#NOT TRANSLATING THAT BUT JUST KNOW IT'S /POS
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me shaking pico by his shoulders after he shot you twice: DUDE YOU CANT SHOOT UR PARTNER FOR BEING THE FUNNYMANDIAS. THAT'S AN ASS-𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖊 (lol get it) MOVE FROM YOU BRO (<- said this only for the pun /j)
(how does this happening to you smh lin you keep being shot at /j /lh)
SORRY IT'S A RUNNING GAG I REALLY LIKE SHANEHAJHFJSHRKAHZKHEKAHDJF /lh
#OLD ART BTW. I HAD TO DIG UP INTO MY OLD ACC (on discord) TO FIND THIS#ANYWAY. ANG BABAW NG KALIGAYAHAN KO NATATAWA AKO PUTEKJAHAJDHAJDHSJDHD#/POS#NOT TRANSLATING THAT BUT JUST KNOW IT'S /POS#YOMIEL UR SO FUNNY /gen /pos#💌 inbox!#♥️ we're doing overdrive!#👑 yomiel!#anyway. ah yes the golden era when I first fell in love with this dude (jokingly)#and then the feeling became more serious and I had the greatest panic of all time /lh#tw gunshot#tw blood#CRUDELY DRAWN BUT JIC
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Chapter 113 - Meiji Romance (Conclusion)
AAAAAA I was pogging out of my mind the entire time AAAAAA
We're "going back to being a comedy manga for a while" after this, or so sensei says..... we'll see how long that lasts.......
(Read it on mangadex)
(The chapter is 40 pages long, I'm not even going to try to fit the extra 10 pages into tumblr's 30 image limit, read it on mangadex)
#youkai gakkou no sensei hajimemashita#a terrified teacher at ghoul school#translations#main story#SCREAMING CRYING PISSING PUNCHING WALLS EATING DRYWALL JUMPING INTO TRAFFIC FLYING DIRECTLY INTO THE SUN ETC ETC (POS)#for optimal experience. read it with ur mitski song of choice in the background#(or maybe its just bc i had mitski on in the background the entire time while i was tling the chapter)#i give it like 6 chapters max before shit goes down again. tanamai i know u cant resist u know u want to
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No your traumas and pain didn’t make you stronger and didn’t have a meaning and didn’t happen for a reason and weren’t your fault and you didn’t deserve any of it. And no it wasn’t some great plan all along and it wasn’t meant to happen and it didn’t teach you anything and it wasn’t to test or punish you.
But it led you to where you are now. It made you who you are and determined your values and the people you spoke to. The friends you’ve chose, the decision you’ve made, the adventures you’ve lived, the places you’ve been to.
And maybe it all would have happened anyway but it wouldn’t have been exactly the same because you wouldn’t have experienced it the same way.
The past is awful and terrible and undeserved, ephemeral but yet permanent in the imprints it left on you. And because it’s permanent it’s also what gives to the present the possibility to exist.
It doesn’t mean you have to forgive. It doesn’t even mean that you have to be at peace with it. It’s just that the way it changed you wasn’t entirely rotten and wicked. It also participated in making you beautiful. Weaker maybe, unstable, broken even if you wish. But beautiful nonetheless. Human, and fundamentally imperfect, dysfunctional in a way that can’t be described even though we cannot look away.
It all led you to that moment where you saw the sun reflecting on the skin of your loved one and you looked at them and couldn’t stop thinking about how utterly magnificent they were. It all led you to the people who love you – you the one who got hurt and still live with the consequences of it, who think and act and see the world in a way they can’t help but be drawn to because of how uniquely and wonderfully terrible it is.
They look at you and every smile and every laugh – no matter how small and uncertain – is a blessing because you have the courage to keep smiling and laughing despite the pain you’ve been through. It makes your smile ten times prettier, your laugh ten times louder, and your eyes infinitely brighter.
What I’m trying to say is, every single experience and event that happened in the span of your life made you who you are, and led you to where you stand right now. At this precise moment. And this is beautiful. And you are beautiful for that. And I love you.
#the more i stare the more i feel like this doesn't mean anything#internet how do i translate this inexplicable feeling of transcendance into words#i tried and failed#but just so you know it makes me positively ache every time i thing about this so this is supposed to be /pos#don't get mad at me or something please <3#writer#writers#writers on tumblr#writing#writeblr#writerscommunity#creative writing#writing exercise#whispers from atlantis
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i thought "/pos" was just like adding "piece of shit" but in a like signature kind of way. i don't know but i was looking at the comment and it just felt like a weirder addition than usual so i looked it up to double check. i didn't fucking know it was a tone indicator god damn it i swear to god i feel like internet's a second language that i never learned
apologies to everyone who i just assumed was either calling themselves, me, or both of us pieces of shit at the end of a comment
#personal#i feel old lol#when you have to translate a comment like you're reading the rosetta stone#i didn't know what brb meant until like three years ago#someone said brb once in text and i was like what does that mean#and of course they didn't fucking respond and i was just sat there lost and confused like WHAT DOES IT MEAN WHY ARENT YOU RESpONDING#i never thought /pos was mean spirited though#i figured it was like when you call a friend fucker
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I do a lot of translation in my job and I've started enjoying it so much more since I started letting myself be a bit more free in my translations. Communicating the message and the vibe is more important than the phrase structure or wording being exactly the same.
#it also improves the quality of the texts because they actually make sense#sometimes these Italians love to put 40000 words that mean nothing and the same thing in a sentence and it's like#girl we don't have to do all that#in the sense that Italian and Swedish text conventions are different and what sounds fine in Italian risks sounding v formal in Swedish#also sometimes I sit there with an Italian origin text that I first have to edit and it's like do I not understand what this says because#1. my Italian isn't good enough in this field#2. this is a complicated field#3. these people don't know how to write#and sometimes when I'm done editing the Italian text and go to do the translation I'm like oh I have no idea what they're trying to say#and think to myself hmm maybe I should've done more editing but oh well eccoci qua#I mean this is like translation 101 but I have done exactly one very bad translation course 5 years ago#that made me go I never want to do this for a job#but my increased freedom now is just I don't care as much about it being exactly the way my boss envisioned#like everything we publish has to go by him first which puts a certain pressure on the text#so when I first arrived at this job I was like uuh the Swedish has to be as similar as possible#but now I'm like man it's more important that it sounds Swedish and not Italian than it being exactly the same#and my boss also doesn't speak Swedish in any case so what does he know#snicksnack#comunque sì queste le riflessioni della serata#domani ho preso il giorno libero perché i miei colleghi mi hanno un po' rotto er cazzo sinceramente so :))
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"te hacen faltan vitaminas" me recuerda a la shap
#and if youre wondering wtf its about;#its kinda like negative rizz but argentinian rock LMFAO#the title is a pun actually hah#vitaminas = vitamins evidently but#the last two syllables are minas which is slang for women#kinda like saying chicks hehe#A la Shaplin le hacen falta minas... desesperadamente WAJAJAJAJAJA#ayy... ya pero muy buen personaje la verdad 🥺#he pensando bastante en ella like. osea es obvio que pienso demasiado en ella LOL pero estoy hablando de que#si pues. es muy buen personaje#me gusta like teorizar sobre ella y su historia genuinamente la encuentro interesante#y analizarla y preguntarme por qué hace las cosas más allá de “lol funny stupid bird” yknow#porque en sus posts más serios si me he quedado muy. hecho mierda la verdad XDD /pos /pos /pos /pos#lamento mucho que mi interés se manifieste en la forma más simp posible................#debería hacer una entrada más para el archivo de texto de música de la shaplin shrine#porque también me quedé pensando muuuuuucho rato sobre Working For The Knife#no me identifico (ya no) pero me recordó demasiado a mucha de la gente que conozco... (el momento menos llorón del astro araya /s)#augh....#ALSO IM SO SORRY IF ANYONE IS TRANSLATING THIS IM JUST. KINDA EMBARRASSED.#i know its nothing bad! but like. monkey brain doesnt register that.#(what if someone comes up and actually just kills me for this???? /hyp)#the only thing that consoles me is thinking if someone loved my oc this much id openly weep and finally be able to die peacefully LMFAOOOO#anyways ily shaplin ily (suckerpunches her) /j
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I think That Woman is genuinely trying to kill me
#you know what she said to me today?#'well. since you suck at writing essays and I'm sure you don't want to write a test. how about a creative assignment?#remember that project idea you suggested? do that. right now. sit and rewrite a chapter of War and Peace in your reimagining'#and like... first of all. bold of you to assume I remember any particular chapter well enough to rewrite it#even all separate events mashed together. because that's what happens when YOU MAKE ME READ 1200 PAGES IN THE SPAN OF THREE WEEKS#but okay. fine. I was allowed to look up references. maybe any other person could have managed something#but second of all. my only reference for the vibe I'm supposed to be going for is ONE BOOK THAT I READ TWO DAYS AGO#PLUS I HAVE ZERO KNOWLEDGE OF THE ACTUAL HISTORICAL EVENTS BECAUSE WE SKIPPED OVER IT IN CLASS#AND THIRD OF ALL. THE WORST THING. IS THAT I CAN'T JUST SIT DOWN AND WRITE#NOT WITHOUT PREPARATION. NOT WITHOUT AT LEAST A VAGUE IDEA OF WHAT I'M GOING FOR#AND NO. 'IMAGINE NATASHA ROSTOVA AS A KOMSOMOLKA' ISN'T AN IDEA. IT'S SOMETHING I COULD DRAW WITH REFERENCE PICTURES#BUT NOT WRITE. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT KIDS DID IN THE KOMSOMOL. THE VLKSM WAS DISBANDED BEFORE MY MOM COULD BE A PART OF IT#and I know it's stupid. I know I shouldn't be upset over not being able to do something I wasn't prepared for#and it's fine!! I was allowed to take it home!! I can come up with something in the privacy of my apartment#where That Woman won't be hanging over me. judging my every move#it's fine. it's literally fine#I know it is. so why am I so damn upset??#I guess.. failing at writing has become such a huge trigger for me that even when it comes to tasks absolutely nobody–#could manage without prior preparation... I just break down if I fail#it took everything in me not to break down crying in front of her. even though I really really wanted to#because first of all I do not trust her at all and don't want to be vulnerable in front of her#and second of all. how could I possibly explain 'oh yeah failing at writing makes me extremely suicidal bc I'm fucked in the head'#'and yet I won't quit because I'm s fucking masochist who likes being miserable apparently'#and I was doing so well writing wise before this... NSND is almost 16k words long and I didn't have a fit over it once#I managed over 8000 words over the weekend translating Tomorrow was the War and actually ENJOYED doing it#I don't enjoy writing. it was.. almost thrilling. to like the process#now I don't want to do anything at all#what's the point if I can't even handle a simple school assignment?#it's not her fault I'm a fucking crybaby who can't indulge in a hobby without becoming hysterical#I should've quit writing after AIDIB like I wanted to. maybe then none of this would've happened. maybe then I wouldn't feel like such a POS
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Everyone knows that Light and L matched each other's freak but I think their dynamic in the musical (the Japanese ver specifically) is underrated. Like it's not super different from canon but they just had this extra edge of Violence that we never quite saw from the more methodical and careful mindgames in canon death note and I think it's great. Like, yes, they did declare in canon that they will bring each other to justice, yes L says he wants to send Kira to his execution, but in the lyrics of the musical they both outright say multiple times that they just want to straight up Kill each other. It's direct the whole way through. There's more mutual contempt. This game is about nothing more than simply being the first one to Kill the Other (they actually use the word "殺し合い" (koroshiau) or "to kill each other" to describe their game (translated as "murderous ... game")).
(Sidenote but all those references about wanting to send each other to Hell?? Beautiful)
Yeah this is a battle of justice and ideals, yes that clash is a key part of their final confrontation at the end of the musical, but throughout their duets (or even songs like The Game Begins where they're singing by themselves) there's this near singleminded desire to just fucking End each other. It's fucking Raw and it's great.
Also THIS FUCKING SCENE?? THIS SCENE FROM SECRETS AND LIES. Iconic. Actually Insane. My jaw dropped. Light looks like a crazy bitch it's beautiful.
Um. Also. Obligatory Playing His Game (yknow the gay sex song) lines dump. It basically says everything I just said above in like 9 lines. You see what I mean right.
In canon they're playing a game of mental chess, trying to use everyone around them to finally catch the other as their end goal, but in the musical you really do feel like all they see is each other. They would probably beat each other to death with their fists if it came down to that. Idk they're just so excited and fired up about their little game in the musical and it's so unhinged and fun and special and I love it. It's like the writers for the musical decided to kick their murderous intent up a couple notches and the result is absolutely Beautiful.
I also think that the intensity of their rivalry in the beginning just makes the wind-down of The Way It Ends soo much better. It's such a good contrast to their previous duets where they try to sing over each other (Secrets and Lies & Stalemate) or with each other but basically at the top of their lungs (Playing His Game). It feels like there's both a quiet mutual understanding but also an underlying disappointment that the game is finally over. In canon, L's death Is instead the peak of their game, the moment he gets confirmation that Light is Kira is the exact same moment that he dies. In the jdrama it's almost sudden, how L dies, after the quiet moment has already passed. But in the musical L's death, ironically, Is the one quieter moment in their game. Their peak was the game itself. It was Secrets and Lies and Playing His Game. But the end of the game in the musical is not a victory, it's just (as L says) the end of everything they'd been wanting up until this point.
Uh. Fuck it. Clip from the Kenji Urai version because I just love his delivery here. His tone just goes so well with the silence and the sound of the clock ticking. You see what I mean right.
Their rivalry in the musical may have been more shortlived but like Damn they were really enjoying every second of it. They were truly insane about each other until the very end. (Like despite everything I just said about the ending it was still unhinged as fuck. Light Making L Shoot Him and then Making L Shoot Himself with L's Own Hand?? Holy shit man. What the fuck /pos)
Musical Light and L your game might've been shorter but you'll always be famous <33 Please never inflict what you had on anyone else ever please stay in hell forever thank you
#death note#lawlight#dn#light yagami#l lawliet#death note musical#sorry this just ended up being a musical screenshot dump and also this is Extremely all over the place i'm just in love okay#btw this was all pointed out by my irl either after secrets and lies or playing his game when we watched the musical together a while ago#and i was like “OHHHHH YOURE A GENIUS ”#got reminded of this on a random whim and like. man i Love that for them actually. two freaks </3#usually i'm thinking more about the hidden sincere and tragic sides of their relationship in the other medias#but man their musical dynamic was also something special#coda analyzes stuff
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what do you think of tone indicators in general?
unfortunately my thoughts on tone indicators are somewhat nuanced. fortunately, this is tumblr not twitter, so I can just write out my full thoughts in one post and be as verbose about it as feels necessary.
speaking as an autistic person (and I know there are other autistic people who don't hold this same view, this is just my perspective), I think as an accessibility tool, the extended set tone indicators in current popular use is fundamentally misguided.
the oldest ones, /s for sarcasm and /j for jokes, make sense. their notation isn't the most intuitive thing ("does /s mean sarcastic or serious?") but it's not too difficult to explain what they mean. I've had to spend my whole life learning by brute force what different tones of voice mean and what they change about how I'm supposed to interpret something, so I already know what "read this in a sarcastic voice" and "read this as a joke" are supposed to mean. my existing skills can be translated into the new form without too much effort.
the same thing applies to emoji and emoticons. I know what facial expressions mean, because I had to learn what they mean. figuring out if :) is sincere or not from context is a skill I've already needed to develop. it doesn't come naturally for me, but it's something I already at least somewhat know how to do.
most of the tone indicators in current use uh. don't work like this.
tone indicators like /ref or /nbh don't correspond to specific tones of voice. I don't have a "I'm making a reference" voice or a "I'm not talking about a person who's here" voice that I can picture the sentence being read in. these do not indicate tones, they're purely disambiguators. they clarify what something means without necessarily changing how it would be read out loud.
and on paper, that's fine, right? like, it's theoretically a good thing to take an otherwise ambiguous statement and add something to it that clarifies what you meant by it. the problem is that these non-tone tone indicators are not even remotely self-explanatory. it's up to me, the person who is being clarified to, to know what all these acronyms are supposed to mean, and how they change the way I'm supposed to interpret what something means.
it's, quite literally, a newly-invented second set of social cues that I'm expected to learn separately from the set that I've already spent my whole life figuring out, and it works completely differently.
sure, these rules are (in principle) less arbitrary than the rules of facial expressions and tones of voice and how long you're supposed to wait before it's your turn to speak, but they're also fully artificial and recently invented, which means they're currently in a constant state of flux. tone indicators go in and out of fashion all the time, and the "comprehensive lists" are never helpful.
in theory, I appreciate the idea of people going out of their way to clarify what they mean by potentially ambiguous things they post online. if it worked, that would be a really nice thing to do.
however, sometimes I imagine what the internet would be like without them. what if instead of using /s, the expectation was that if you're sarcastic online there's no guarantee that strangers reading your post will know what you meant? what if instead of inventing more and more acronyms to cover every possible potentially confusing situation, we just... expected one another to speak less ambiguously in the first place?
so, I on paper like the idea of tone indicators. I think it's good that some people are trying to be considerate by being extra clear about what they mean by things. but if tone indicators didn't exist, and people who wanted to be considerate in this way instead just made a point of phrasing things more clearly to begin with, I think that would be vastly preferable to even the most well-implemented tone indicator system.
also /pos sucks because there's something deeply and profoundly wrong for an abbreviation that means "I don't mean this as an insult, don't worry" to be spelled the same way as an acronym that's an insult
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ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..
how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)
ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol
have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Our Remains
Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end
A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.
You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!
But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying.
Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.
Just an overwhelming sense of dread.
The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer.
You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm.
The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant.
In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines.
John’s icon dims.
You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to.
He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.
“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.
God, you loved him so much.
Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you.
He tried to call as often as he could.
John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.
“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down.
You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic.
“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.”
“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?”
“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”
Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.
Jesus, this was actually happening.
You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind.
“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?”
The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work.
Above all, he knew when something was up with you.
“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”
Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”
The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.
“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth.
The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.
Back at the house, your face scrunches together.
Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad?
John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears.
“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.”
…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted?
“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”
The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him.
“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”
He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind.
There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with.
John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present.
“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”
“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…”
Your voice quivers.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear.
You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”
John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?”
Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring.
From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts.
You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor.
“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”
John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs.
“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.”
You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin.
“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.
“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”
Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.
“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing.
“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?”
A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation.
“I promise, John.”
“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”
Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.”
The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords.
He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else.
The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences.
Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.
—
John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.
All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips.
It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends.
“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute.
Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later.
John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.
The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.
“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?”
Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?”
The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name.
He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed.
Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click.
But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.
“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms.
His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat.
John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening.
Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh.
He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.
“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.”
You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod.
“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”
Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.”
But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room.
Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…
“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.”
Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight.
You steel yourself and raise the box.
“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair.
He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully.
Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm.
“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead.
You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders.
“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed.
What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….
Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship.
John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!”
Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly.
“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.”
It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit.
Why isn’t he saying anything?
John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it.
Pregnant.
His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly.
Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts.
“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss.
John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold.
“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”
Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again.
“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.”
He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.”
You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.
“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”
“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.”
Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”
His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.
You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.
“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.”
The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second.
“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.”
While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child.
A family that you both had made.
John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.”
Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.”
There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave.
What remains behind, you ask? Simple.
White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.
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I CAN HEAR THE BELLS — cl16
MASTERLIST ! you are not to publish, recreate or translate this on tumblr or other platforms without my explicit permission.
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: when charles received the wedding invitation from a close friend address to him and company the embarrassment he feels knowing it would just be him after his recent breakup. now he's dateless and desperate with the wedding in two weeks he's gotta find someone, and who better than you.
warnings: fluff, minor angst because god do i love a good miscommunication trope, poorly translated french, every romance book cliche ever, charles leclerc has the worse possible game ever and yet somehow always pulls, arthur leclerc you chronic shit-stirrer (/pos), if my dream wedding pinterest board was a fanfic, always the bridesmaid never the bride, unless, best friends brother trope.
word count: this is a potentially big fic, multi-part series so i can't give a baseline for the word count but definitely more than 5k. style: written series with smau elements
authors note: welcome to my newest series, this is one i've been workshopping for a while now, characters are made up in terms of charles friends geting married and the ex-girlfriend, as i don't want any alex hate on my account. this is set during the 2024 season, races are altered to fit the timeline of this universe so consider this an alternate universe as well, if you want the nitty gritty details of the series itself.
add yourself to my taglist !
" With Great Pleasure, Amelie Windsor &&. Henri De Santa Invite you to celebrate their love on August 15th 2024 "
PART ONE / a deal is a deal. — written fic, warnings on the chapter. ( coming may 25th )
PART TWO / 27 dresses is wedding prep. — smau, small written blurbs, warnings on the chapter. ( coming soon . . . ) PART THREE / the italian rivera with the lust of your life — written fic, warnings on chapter. ( coming soon . . . ) PART FOUR / i found my love in portofino — written fic, smau elements, smut mention, other warnings on the chapter. ( coming soon . . . ) PART FIVE / i do. do i? — written fic, warnings on the chapter. ( coming soon . . . )
authors note: romance is in the air and because im desperately lonely and adore the early 2000's romance films, they just don't make them like they used to anymore, enjoy please be excited for this
#𐙚 paige’s works#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc smau#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one imagines#formula one imagine
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Along with finally airing the season 5 finale, Tfou released a version of the two last episodes commented by the writing team!! So, as I already did with the commented version of Evolution, here's an overview of what they said!! It’s quite long given that it was two episodes and they talked a lot so I will put the parts I think are the most interesting in bold!! Obligatory disclaimer, this is my own interpretation and translation so take everything with a grain of salt!
At the beginning, the writers recall that the first episode of the season 5 finale, Conformation, starts with Adrien and Kagami supposedly arriving in London "like rock stars". However, it is actually just an illusion made from the scanned version of them and the two teens are actually being sequestered in London. At this moment, Thomas says "talk about good parenting" in English, which I think is very funny. The team explains that they were first put in regular apartments in the previous episode but are now in rooms without windows after both of them escaped. This is also done to protect them from what will happen, as Gabriel is about to put his plan of akumatising the entire world into action.
The writers say that Gabriel had been imagining his plan ever since Animaestro when he was seen signing contracts with Tsurugi, and has been putting it in place since the second episode of season 5 (Multiplication). They say that he also tested the first part of his plan, to put nightmares in everyone's heads, in a previous episode.
The rest is under the cut!
Talking about previous episodes, they then say that as was the case with the Risk - Strike back - Evolution - Multiplication - Destruction series of episodes (aka the longest day ever), the 5 last episodes of season 5 (Collusion - Revolution - Representation - Conformation - Recreation) go together and there is a direct continuation between them. (However, one of their rules as Miraculous writers is that these episodes can also be watched and understood independently.) Therefore, season 5 both starts and ends with a series of 5 episodes (quintologies as they call them).
They note that Marinette's nightmare at the beginning is reminiscent of the episode Weredad from season 3. At this point, we can see that Marinette starts to understand who the villain is although she's not fully conscious of it yet. Thomas says that you can read it in two different ways: if you don't take the previous episode into account, she's starting to intuitively link things together but if you did see Representation, you know that she knows who Monarch really is. (They say that to highlight the fact that even though this is the 4th episode of a quintology, all episodes can be understood on their own as mentioned before.)
They then talk more about Gabriel's plan. He gives everyone nightmares on the same day and we can see the different characters suffering because of that (for example, Marinette's mom who thinks Tom is overprotective). He will then offer a solution which a sort of relaxation application directly inspired by the different yoga apps people have on their phones nowadays. This app helps them relax, but also makes people addicted since their nightmares come back as soon as they don't use it anymore. They joke about the relevance of this in today's world with people being "addicted" to their phones or people in positions of power spreading poisons and then monetising the antidote, or the corruption of capitalism selling things we don't need or causing mental illnesses to make people addicted. They ironise that nooo they couldn't possibly be referring to all of that, not in a children's show!!
During the scene that leads to Adrien wearing the Alliance ring after being reticent to it, they say that they had a conflit when writing it as they had to find a way for Adrien to not become his superhero self, cataclysm the walls and go help his lady in Paris. The end result is that Adrien is reminded of the devastating effect of his power by the nightmare and would therefore do anything to avoid hurting people, and so he wears the ring. Mélanie says that he "could become Chat Blanc" and the others add that even though he does not remember and has never lived it, Chat Blanc still has an influence on his actions.
Thomas mentions that Plagg (who he calls "Plaggo" and "Plagounet", which are sort of funny and affectionate nicknames) doesn't show up on cameras, and Sébastien jokes that there could be kwamis around them as they're talking but we just can't see them. Speaking of Plagg, Sébastien jokingly calls Fred the "queen of cheese" as she's the one writing the cheese puns and mentions that there are way more cheese jokes in season 5 than there were before, which makes him think that she is getting retributed by cheese industries in exchange for writing them. Fred then replies that she's getting paid directly in cheese.
The writers say that while the episodes are often narratively dense with science fiction elements, Plagg allows them to add humour in the scene and keep a lighter atmosphere for small children (you know, when he shows his butt to the camera while Adrien is having an existential crisis).
Anyway moving on lol, the writers then say that they had actually planned since 2014/2015 that Chat Noir would not be there to defeat Hawkmoth as they wanted a very particular power fusion to happen (aka Marinette wielding both the ladybug and black cat miraculous and becoming Bug Noire).
Fred then talks about how ever since the start of the series, they have incorporated the symbolism of fairy tales with the sleeping princess and the knight coming to save her. However, they're switching the genders in Miraculous as Adrien is the princess and Marinette the knight (while Gabriel is the evil dragon). They add that they already explained this in a previous episode (in season 4) but they're showing it again now in Marinette's nightmare.
In the scene where we can see that Tikki ate all the croissants, they joke that she did well given everything that is going to happen afterwards. They also jokingly tell the kids watching that they shouldn't do like Marinette and hide in trash cans but eating bananas and croissants is ok (trust me it's funny when they say it). They add that if Fred is the cheese queen, Mélanie is like Tikki because she loves cakes and anything sweet.
We then see Nathalie's nightmare in which Gabriel successfully makes his wish, and therefore manages to accomplish his evil plan which Nathalie knows about. We can see that she's looking very bad and the writers again jokingly give recommendations to the children watching, here to not use a damaged peacock miraculous.
They then talk more about Natalie's past, in which she was a treasure hunter. They say that someone should let them show the fabulous story of Nathalie, Gabriel, Émilie, Audrey and André when they were younger. Indeed, they already wrote what happened in their youth as it is the origin story without which they couldn't have written Miraculous. When Natalie looks at the picture of her in her "Lara Croft outfit", as they call it, from when they were chasing the miraculous and found the peacock and butterfly ones, they jokingly ask what they were chasing and why and say that you have to watch the rest of season 5 to know (basically, they're strongly hinting at sentiadrien).
They say that Gabriel/Hawkmoth and Tsurugi have been allies for a very long time, but it has only been revealed rather recently in the show and we can see it now in a scene where they're plotting together and rising the tension.
In the following scene, we can see all the kids ready for the "miraculisation", except Mylène who is not wearing a ring because while she is not fully anti technology, she is more wary of it and vigilant of its excesses. They then focus on Ivan, who would also like to resist like her but for whom it is too hard. They add that he has "things stressing him out" but that we will only learn about them in later seasons 👀👀.
They take a moment to appreciate the "exceptional" direction and lighting done by Wilfried in the scene where Nathalie threatens Gabriel with a crossbow. Thomas also makes a reference to Citizen Kane but I've never watched it so idk what he meant by that sorry I'm uncultured haha. The writing team says that while they are the ones writing the scenes, they need a director to make the scenes look like what they imagined, and that it's not always easy.
In the next scene, we can see Ladybug looking around in Nathalie's room to find hints about where Adrien could be and finding her tablet with all the information about the miraculous, which makes Marinette realise that Nathalie was Monarch's accomplice right before they enter in the room. They joke about how OMG THEY NEVER COULD'VE GUESSED that Adrien's father was actually Monarch the whole time. We can see Ladybug recording a message for Chat Noir where she reveals his identity, but she never ends up actually sending it.
They talk about how this scene is a huge climax as it is rare to see Ladybug in the Agreste mansion. It had already happened in season 1 during the episode Simon Says where they already played on the dramatic irony of Hawkmoth being Gabriel (which people did not know at the time). This is the second time that Ladybug is in the mansion, while Marinette has been there before a few times (including the iconic pancake moment). While they talk about Simon Says, Fred looks really smug saying that they had planned everything since the beginning.
They say that the scene during which Nathalie gives Ladybug her phone with the pictures and videos of Émilie explaining all of Miraculous's backstory is beautiful, and that if we as viewers had this phone, we would know everything about it (👀👀👀). In addition, they mention that since this is the final episode of the arc, a lot of things happen to get all the final outcomes of the different relationship between characters.
When Gabriel shows the video of Ladybug and Chat Noir kidnapping Adrien and Kagami on everyone's Alliances, the writers explain that people are so disoriented and stressed that they'll believe anything we tell them. They are therefore receptive to any controversy presented to them, just like how people nowadays will engage in numerous sterile debates on social media.
We can then see Monarch using things he obtained in previous episodes: the cataclysm dust from his deteriorating hand and the magical charm Ladybug gave him. We can see that Gabriel had been planning everything from a very long time but that because of the cataclysm he suffered from, he has no choice but to carry it out now. Coincidentally, it is this very cataclysm that allows his to have Chat Noir's quantic signature and put his plan into action. They jokingly compare what he is doing to making a dog sniff a sock, but in a cyberquantic version.
The quantic signature allows the miraculised people to find Ladybug and Chat Noir, and the team says that when they were writing the scene where they detect Ladybug in Gabriel's mansion, they were all going omg omg omg trying to figure out how they were going to get away with it. They say that while Ladybug is trapped in the villain's lair, the writers trapped themselves with the story.
They once again give a shout out to Wilfried's direction when we can see Ladybug getting attacked from all sides by the miraculised people, notably because of the camera motions. They also acknowledge SAMG's amazing animation especially in the scenes including a lot of characters.
My unculturedness shows again when they say that Marinette hiding in a cupboard under the sink is a reference to Jurassic Park. The reference I do get however is when they say that Plagg not being able to shift through the door with his ring was the plot of Mr Pigeon 72.
The action then reaches a maximum as Monarch knows that Ladybug is hiding somewhere in his house, detransformed. We now get to THE moment they had been waiting for since the beginning: when Monarch discovers that Marinette is Ladybug and she transforms into the fabulous BUG NOIRE!!! They keep talking about how cool she is and that they left the best for last: the final fight with Monarch does not happen with Ladybug, nor with Chat Noir, nor with Chat Noir and Ladybug but with BUG NOIRE!!!!!
Fred says the season has a particular taste of closure, even though there is still a next part, and warns to hold on because the latter will hurt a lot 🥲🥲.
🐞🐞🐞
Now, onto the the second episode, Re-creation !! (Yeah the first 2k words before that were on Conformation alone. I am bad at summarising. 😭)
At the beginning of the episode, when we can see Lila laughing when she sees Alec having an akuma induced nightmare on TV, the writers say that it is because she has known who Monarch is for multiple episodes now. They mention that it is because she read something on people’s lips in Evolution (episode 501) which allowed her to discover things. She also stole a case from Tsurugi so she knows who Gabriel really is.
Then, they focus on the fight we "had all been waiting for", and Mélanie mentions that her favourite lucky charm is the piano crashing on Monarch. They say that while they have spent multiple hours finding intelligent and sophisticated lucky charms for years, this one is just simple and exhilarating.
They then talk about how the resistance is fighting against the miraculised people, and how this happens all over the world (in China, Rio, New York) and includes a LOT of different characters. This explains why it takes a long time to deliver the episodes and they joke about how they’re blowing up their budget. However, despite all the superheroes fighting all over the world, it is still not enough.
Indeed, the outcome doesn’t play out in the giant arena outside, but in the KITCHEN. They joke about how they waited long enough to finally get it and that the resolve should therefore happen there, and even nickname the episode a « kitchen-two-room episode » (the joke makes more sense in french since we define homes according to their number of rooms, not just bedrooms).
They say that in the fight between Bug Noire and Monarch, both are so evolved in mastering their powers that neither of them have limits (Monarch can use as many powers as he wants at once thanks to his rings, and Bug Noire can use as many lucky charms and cataclysms as she wants). They lovingly say that our little Marinette from season one has grown a lot 🥺. She’s now super badass (they kept talking about how cool she was) and has learned so much.
They add that the scene where Bug Noire uses her handcuffs lucky charm is a reference to Kung Fu movies where characters fight while being chained to each other (once again, I’ve watched like zero movies so I’m gonna trust them on that lol). They once again mention the amazing direction and get very excited when Bug Noire slams Monarch through the wall.
During the fight scenes outside, they joke that Doorman (the USAmerican superhero whose power is to open doors) and Fang (a literal crocodile who knows Kung Fu) were essential in saving Paris. However, despite all the people fighting outside, the miraculised people remain too many and there is only one person who can save everyone from Monarch’s perfect plan.
Back in the Agreste mansion, Bug Noire is losing and her only escape is to cataclysm the floor which makes them land in the crypt (which was right under the mansion all along !!!). She then sees Emilie’s body and understand why Gabriel is doing all of this. When talking about his motive, the writers joke that if he succeeded, it would be hard to explain to Adrien why his mom, who has been dead for a year, is suddenly back and that while it would be unjust for Gabriel to trade her life for someone else’s, he doesn’t care and would just make Ladybug go away.
The team explains that in the following scenes, there is an alternance between the outside (in Paris) and inside (in the crypt) fights, with the dialogue happening inside continuing while we see what is happening outside on screen. They don’t do that often, which gives this scene all the more impact during the finale. They talk about how this kind of thing is a trademark of Miraculous: the episodes are quite dense despite their short length, thanks to the fact that the story continues when the action is taking place and the emotion continues to be conveyed. They oppose it to classical action movies where some scenes are dedicated to dialogue/story while fight scenes are just about fighting.
The writers say that from the moment Bug Noire gets her glue tube lucky charm, they are already working on the plot of season 6: when she manages to steal the butterfly miraculous from Monarch, she does not actually retrieve it because of how far away she is and it falls in the water below (cf Lila retrieving it which will be relevant in season 6).
At this moment, Gabriel loses and the resolution of the battle is not what we could’ve expected: we don’t have Ladybug winning by thrashing him, but she instead simply talks to him and even detransforms in front of him. It is not Ladybug who defeats Monarch but Marinette. This echoes to a message they have been trying to convey since the beginning : that in the end, it is not violence or strength that wins, but people talking to each other and opening up about their feelings. It is when people are not subject to their emotions, but instead try to understand them to think better and take the right decisions. And this is what Marinette is hoping for here by showing Gabriel the video of Émilie saying that she never wanted him to become evil, and instead just hoped for him to take care of Adrien (which he didn’t do lol).
In the end, Marinette and Gabriel’s main goals are the same : making Adrien happy. She takes a huge risk and detransforms to see how much he loves Adrien, or on the contrary how much he would rather bring his wife back. This is the only moment where we see Gabriel being truly emotional and understand why he has been doing all of that. Fred adds that he is a character who thinks love goes beyond good and evil, and oversteps every boundary, including moral ones. Therefore, Marinette is trying to solve a crisis of feelings by using feelings.
Back to the episode, we can see Marinette taking the biggest risk in her life and extending her hand to her nemesis, even the kwamis tell her that she’s insane. The writers joke that well, they were right, as Gabriel steals both miraculous and it does not end well (or at least not for now). Gabriel has now won as he can do what he has been wanting since the very beginning.
The team mentions that the next scene is one of the biggest reveals of the show, as we can finally see how the wish happens. We discover that the kwamis are not actually little plushies but take this appearance to avoid scaring their wielders, and the writers actually hinted to that in Dearest Family when Tikki ate all the galette des rois. One member of the team jokes that when the kwamis reveal themselves, they become a Swedish hit from the 70s : Gimmi (as a reference to Gimme ! Gimme ! Gimme ! by ABBA of course).
Moving on from the dad jokes, when Gabriel removes all of his miraculous rings, Marinette is released from the bee sting and can now witness her defeat. But the fact that Gabriel laid down his weapons shows that she has actually won, even though it is only shown and not said.
However, they say that there is still some doubt : we do not actually know what he wishes for as his words are cryptic and we only see the outcome of his wish. They do say that Émilie will not be brought back to life as Gabriel has finally mourned her death, which Adrien has already done for a long time. But Gabriel cannot live without her and decides to die with her.
In order to accomplish the wish, they explain that the world has to be destroyed and then re-created, which leads us to the aftermath of the wish a few weeks later and the pool party where everything seems to be going well. Then comes probably the most enigmatic shot of the episode with Nathalie and Amélie/Émilie. The writers say that they’re not telling us who it is but I think we can guess pretty easily based on what they said right before 😭😭. They also add that with Nathalie next to her we can guess what Gabriel’s wish was, but that it is "not what we think" and that there is a trick.
They say that with the final wish, they have arrived at the end of what they wanted to tell in this arc, which is a revolution of the minds. They said that each played their role, including the villain because he gave up on his power with which he could do anything to make his son happy. They add that the new world we are seeing shows the premise of season 6, which will have a "different taste" and in which they will talk about different things.
They say that at the end, some lies remain as Gabriel is presented as a hero. They say that Marinette gave Adrien the twin rings, in what frankly looks like a wedding proposal lol. Then they go insane because it’s time for LE BISOUUUU, and a real lovey kiss that they remember for once, not like in Oblivio, and not a desperate kiss like when Adrien left for London. However, even with all this cute romantic stuff, we can see some ominous butterflies flying around them…
In the next scene, we can see Marinette taking the miraculous that have been standardised and industrialised by Gabriel and putting them back in shape. The writers specify that this is a parabole about craftsmanship vs industrial production. The miraculous will now be adapted to every person, but we can’t see what they look like just yet! In this new world, the powers are all shared, among people who they trust and know will work for the common good. They joke that the "Avengers" shot at the end with all the heroes is something they’d been dreaming of.
In the last scene with Lila, they joke that it’s never really finished because there’s a bunch of epilogues one after the other. Thomas add that the school described at the end is how he thinks all schools should work!
And we’ve finally reached the end!! They don’t reveal anything in the scene where a weird flash appears in Lila’s room to keep the suspense, and just all scream going OMG WHAT’S HAPPENING!!!
🐞🐞🐞
I hope this was helpful to learn more about the writing team and some stories behind the episodes!! Don't hesitate to add stuff if you think I forgot something or ask questions if I wasn't completely clear :)).
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en garde! 𖦹 CL16
PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fencer!leclerc!reader , f1 grid x fencer!leclerc!reader
SUMMARY: charles had been asking you to teach him fencing, and you finally did.
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WARNINGS: smau mixed with narrations, inconsistent photos, typos, not proofread, cursing, no use of y/n on the narrations, poorly google translated italian, and all photos are taken from pinterest
FACE CLAIMS: all from pinterest
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s been a long time since i added a new fic to my leclerc!sister series, so here it is hehe sorry, i’ve yapped a LOT about fencing on the narration part, so pls forgive me 😭 i hope i didn’t bore you a lot with fencing stuff 😭 i’m also accepting request for this series (i’m running out on ideas lmao 🥲) but i hope that you’ll enjoy this one!
ynleclerc
liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, sofia_rossi, marcoromano.fencing, landonorris and 783,984 others
ynleclerc E' passato un po' di tempo, Italia 💘
view all 12,837 comments
charles_leclerc when are you coming home?
ynleclerc idk, why?
charles_leclerc are you serious right now 😐
ynleclerc what…🧍🏻♀️
charles_leclerc check my messages for once 😐
username1 OH HOW I MISSED YOU 😭
username2 the y/n drought has finally ended!!!! 😭
username3 MOTHER IS BACK, MOTHER HAS POSTED 😭🎉
landonorris thank god you’re alive. i thought you’re already dead somewhere 😔💔
ynleclerc bro what 😭
landonorris anyways, when will you teach me how to fence for a new quadrant yt vid
ynleclerc you sure you’re up for it? don’t want you poking yourself with the foil
landonorris 😠😠😠😠
sofia_rossi CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!!
ynleclerc 🥰🥰🥰
username4 OUR FAV FENCING DUO IS GOING TO SEE EACH OTHER SOON??? OMG 😭❤️
francisca.cgomes you’re in italy and you didn’t even tell me? 😠
ynleclerc I FORGOT IM SORRY IM SORRY!! but hey, i’m italy 🥰 hangout soon?
francisca.cgomes of course!!! just text meeee!!
username5 SHE REMEMBERED HER PASSWORD 🥳
ynleclerc posted a story!
liked by charles_leclerc, sofia_rossi, yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes, marcoromano.fencing and others
charles_leclerc when will you teach me fencing 😔
charles_leclerc can’t believe it’s so hard to schedule one with you 💔💔💔
charles_leclerc i need big brother privileges 💔
ynleclerc USHCJJSJD CHARLES 😭
ynleclerc i’ll be home by next week! (hopefully you’ll be home as well 🤥) damn, can’t believe our schedules never really align
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️
francisca.cgomes i’m free tomorrow!! how about we go out for brunch?
ynleclerc KIKAAAA!! yes yes, ofc! ❤️
francisca.cgomes YAY!!
username6 OUR FENCING DUO WILL BE REUNITED SOON 😭❤️
username7 oh we pray for times like this (you being active on ig 😔💔)
MONACO
The sound of clashing blades echoed through the halls of the Club d’Escrime, a backdrop to your training session with Marco, your Italian coach. Fully suited in your white fencing uniform, mask tucked under your arm, you watched the double doors open, revealing your brother, Charles and his videographer, Antoine. The latter already had his camera rolling, and Charles, in his usual casual style—jeans, a dark hoodie, and white sneakers, looking like he had just stepped off a magazine cover.
“Finally!” You said, walking towards them with a smile. “Thought you’d never make it.”
Charles chuckled, spreading his arms in mock exasperation. “Don’t start! You’re the one who’s always impossible to catch. What is it this week? Tokyo? Budapest?”
“Home, for once,” you replied with a laugh, gesturing around the salle. “But that’s rare, as you know.”
“The place is very stunning,” Charles said, as he marveled the interior of the salle. “So this is where gold medals are made?” He teased.
“Something like that,” you replied, your voice light with pride. “Though Marco here deserves half the credit.”
“Ah, Charles! Finalmente ci incontriamo,” Marco greeted, shaking Charles’ hand firmly. His thick Italian accent added a charm to his words. “Your sister talks about you a lot.”
“È un piacere finalmente conoscerti. Lei non parla mai di me quando vinco, però.” He joked, shooting a playful look your way.
“Not true, and you know it.” You rolled your eyes at the comment.
Marco laughed, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Well today, we’ll see if athletic talent runs in the family, sì?”
“Okay, so here we are at the Club d’Escrime in Monaco. This is where my sister trains—when she’s not winning Olympic gold, of course,” he said grinning at you and turning towards the camera.
“We’ve been planning this fencing lesson for many months now, but with her busy training schedule and my racing calendar, it’s been almost impossible to find a day that worked for both of us. So finally, today is the day!” Charles added.
“Did you mention how excited you’ve been?” You quipped, folding your arms.
Charles smirked. “I may have. But, let’s be honest, you’re probably more nervous than I am.”
“Nervous?” You scoffed. “Why would I be nervous? You’re the one holding a weapon for the first time.”
“Ah, but I’ve seen the movies,” he countered, mimicking a clumsy lunge. “How hard can it be?”
You laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head. “We’ll see how long that confidence lasts when Marco puts you through the warm-up.”
“Speaking of which,” Marco interjected, “shall we start soon? Time is short, and I want to see if he can last more than five minutes.”
“You’re in for a workout.” You teased and smiled.
Charles gave an exaggerated sigh but could not hide his amusement. “Great. I love being underestimated.”
“You’re about to learn that fencing isn't as easy as people make it look on TV.” You smiled at the camera.
“Or tiktok.” Charles quipped, earning a chuckle from Marco.
You gestured towards the piste. “Alright, let’s get you geared up. I don’t want to hear any excuses later.”
Once Charles was all suited up, he stepped onto the piste, fully suited in his borrowed fencing gear, and you couldn’t help but pause. There was something striking about the way the jacket, breeches, and long socks suited him. The silver sheen of the lamé, a metallic vest worn over the jacket for scoring, added an almost regal touch. You smirked as you took in the sight of your brother adjusting his gloves.
“Oh my god. I’ve never looked so good.” Charles said as he came out all suited up.
“Would you look at that,” you began, folding your arms. “Hate to admit it, but you look good. Maybe too good.”
Charles glanced up, clearly amused. “Oh? Surprised your brother cleans up well?”
“I’m just saying, if this racing thing doesn’t work out, you might have a future as a fencer. Imagine, Charles Leclerc, Olympic Champion.” You gave him an exaggerated once-over. “The gear suits you.”
“I mean, I do look the part.” He smiled, striking a mock fencing pose, which was more comedic than impressive.
“You do,” you admitted with a laugh. “But let’s see if you can move like a fencer before you start planning your second career.”
“Basta con i complimenti. Time for the warm-up! No excuses later when your legs start complaining.” Marco smiled.
Charles groaned playfully, shooting you a mock glare. “Leg day already gets me in the gym. Don’t let him overdo it.”
“Stop whining,” you teased, motioning for him to follow Marco. “You’ll thank him when you’re not limping tomorrow.”
“We begin easy,” he said, demonstrating a forward bend. “Touch your toes, Charles. Keep your legs straight.”
“Easy for you to say,” he muttered, glancing at Marco, who was effortlessly folding himself in half.
“Come on, Charlie. You can’t lose to a guy twenty years older than you.” You chuckled from the sidelines, standing near Antoine, who was filming the entire thing.
“Thanks for the encouragement,” Charles quipped, finally managing to graze his toes. “I see you’re enjoying this too much.”
“I am.” You admitted, voice light with laughter.
Next were lunges, which Charles did with ease, his form surprisingly precise. “Now these, I can handle. We do this in the gym all the time.”
“Good. Now arm extensions, long and controlled. Think of reaching for the target.” Charles mirrored Marco’s movements, extending his arms fluidly.
You couldn’t resist teasing, “not bad, Charles. Maybe you’re a natural after all.”
“Maybe I am,” he replied, smirking. “See? I’ve got this.”
“Next is jumping jacks,” Marco interrupted, clearly amused by your banter.
Charles transitioned smoothly into the exercise, his movements energetic and practiced. As he worked through the routine, Charles suddenly turned to you, his tone curious.
“Why don’t we ever train together? Seems like it could be fun.” Charles glanced at you.
“Because you’d complain the whole time.” You laughed, shaking your head.
“Hey, I don’t complain that much.” He argued, clearly offended.
You just laughed at him, waving a hand dismissively. “Fencing is my thing, Charlie. I need to focus when I’m training, it’s not all fun and games.”
“And today isn’t serious?” Charles raised a brow, pausing mid-jumping jack.
“Not really,” you admitted with a shrug. “Today’s more about proving to you that fencing isn’t as easy as it looks.”
“Good luck with that,” he said, clearly amused. “You forget who you’re talking to.”
“Charles,” Marco interjected, a mischievous glint in his eye, “your sister has a gold medal, she might surprise you.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he said sincerely, before his grin returned. “But I’m still confident I can keep up.”
“That’s the spirit!” You smiled.
”The floor is yours, campionessa.” Marco smiled as he stepped back, and gestured for you to take over.
“Alright,” you turned to Charles. “Let’s start with the basics. This is going to be your crash course in fencing, everything you need to know before you touch the blade.”
Antoine, still filming, zoomed in on Charles’ face as he nodded, looking serious. “I’m ready, let’s hear it.”
“Fencing is one of the oldest sports in the world. It dates back centuries, originally used in dueling and combat training, but over time, it became more of a sport.” You explained. “In fact, fencing has been part of the Olympics since the very first modern games in 1896.”
“1896?” Charles repeated, very intrigued. “So, it’s been around forever.”
“Pretty much,” you confirmed with a smile. “Since then, it’s evolved into three distinct disciplines—foil, sabre, and epee. Each had different rules, strategies, and weapons. That’s what makes fencing so fascinating, you’re not just swinging a sword around. It’s a mind game as much as a physical one, that’s why some call it physical chess.”
Charles tilted his head, clearly interested. “What’s the difference between the three?”
“Come on, let me show you guys.” You walked over to a nearby rack, where several swords were neatly displayed, each one gleaming under the salle’s lights.
“This is a foil.” You picked up a foil, you held it up for him and the viewers to see. “It is the lightest of the three weapons, weighing about 500 grams, and the one I use. Foil fencing focuses on precision and technique, the target area is only the torso, and points are scored with the tip of the blade.”
Charles reached out, and you handed him the foil. He tested the weight of the blade, lifting and lowering it.
“It’s lighter than I thought.” He admitted, giving it a small swing.
“Foils are meant for agility and speed,” you explained. You then picked up a sabre, slightly heavier with a distinct curved guard. “This is a sabre. It’s a bit heavier, and the rules are very different. In sabre, you can score with the edge of the blade, not just the tip, and target area is the upper body—above the waist, including arms and head.”
“Sounds aggressive,” Charles remarked, running his hand along the blade’s flat edge.
“Oh, it is,” you chuckled. “Sabre is all about speed and attack. It’s fast-paced, almost like a sprint compared to foil’s more calculated, chess-like style.”
“And the last one?” Charles asked, pointing to the remaining weapon.
“This is the epee,” you said as you picked up the epee, handing it to him. “It’s the heaviest of the three, about 775 grams, and the target area is the entire body, head to toe. But in epee, there’s no right of way, whoever hits first, scores.”
Charles tested the epee in his grip, nodding thoughtfully. “So it’s more…straightforward?”
“In a way, yes,” you said, setting the sabre and foil back on the rack. “But it can also lead to longer matches since there’s no restriction on who can attack when, you need all the patience you can get when playing epee.”
The camera panned as you gestured for Charles to follow you back to the piste. “Now, let’s talk about the rules. In foil, which is what we’ll be learning today, the target area is just the torso. No arms, legs, and head. If you hit anywhere else, it doesn’t count.”
“Got it,” Charles said. “What about the scoring?”
“In foil, we use something called right of way. It means that the fencer who initiates the attack has priority. If the other fencer wants to score, they have to defend or parry first, and then counterattack.”
You picked up a foil and demonstrated, lunging forward in a quick, fluid motion. “For example, if I attack you like this, you can’t just hit me back. You’d need to block my blade first.”
“So, it’s not just about being faster, it’s about timing.” Charles frowned slightly, absorbing the information.
“Yup,” you said, impressed. “It’s about strategy and reading your opponent’s moves. Now, there are also some practical rules. The piste, the one we are standing on right now, is 14 meters long and 1.5 to 2 meters wide. If you step off, you lose ground or even a point, and you can’t use your off-hand to block, and obviously, no overly aggressive moves like charging into your opponent.”
Charles raised a brow. “No tackling allowed? Shame.”
“Not unless you want to get a penalty.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Lastly, to win a match, you have to reach a predetermined number of points, usually 15, or have the highest score by the end of the time limit.”
“Okay, I’ll give you a quick demonstration of how right of way works in a tournament.” You gestured for Marco to join you, and he grabbed another foil, stepping into position, as Antoine adjusted his camera as you stepped back onto the piste.
“Watch closely,” you instructed as you and Marco faced off. “Marco will attack, and I’ll defend and counter.”
Marco lunged forward with a smooth attack, and you parried, your blades clashing with a satisfying ring before you swiftly riposted, your blade landing lightly on his torso.
Turning to Charles, you explained. “Since I defended first and then countered, I get the point. Make sense?”
Charles nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in thought. “So, if I just swing wildly, it’s useless unless I have priority.”
“Yes,” you said smiling. “Fencing isn’t about brute force, it’s about control, precision, and strategy.”
“This all felt like a masterclass,” Charles chuckled. “This is very incredible stuff.”
Once Charles had a solid grasp of the basic rules and ths purpose of fencing, you decided it was time to get into the technical aspects.
“Alrighty,” you began, pacing in front of him, foil in hand. “Before you can start attacking, you need to learn how to defend yourself. So, let’s talk about parrying.”
“There are four primary parries in fencing, and each one is important for blocking and setting yourself up for a counterattack.” You added.
Charles nodded, gripping the foil in his hand as if ready to jump in. “Alright, I’m listening. Hit me with it.”
“Not literally,” you teased, pointing your foil at him briefly before continuing. “First is parry four. This is your standard parry, used to block attacks aimed at your torso. You bring the blade across your body like this.”
You demonstrated, twisting your wrist and angling your blade so that the imaginary opponent’s strike would be deflected away. Charles mimicked the movement, though his hand was stiff, and his blade angle slightly off.
You leaned in, using the tip of your foil to adjust his blade position. “Loosen your wrist a bit, it’s all about control, not brute strength. The goal is to guide their blade away, not smack it out of their hands.”
“Okay, okay. Got it.” Charles said, trying again. This time, his movement was smoother.
“Better,” you said, stepping back. “Next is parry six. The one is similar to parry four, but instead of protecting the inside of your body, it covers the outside. Like this.” You executed the parry with ease, your blade moving in a fluid arc.
Charles tried to copy the movement, his blade wobbling slightly as he adjusted his wrist.
“Close,” you said, stepping closer. “But watch your wrist, it needs to stay firm, or you’ll lose control of your blade.” You tapped the back of his hand with your foil, and he adjusted accordingly.
“Parry eight is for low attacks to the outside of your body.” You continued, moving on, and crouching slightly, angling your blade downward to demonstrate. “This one is a little tricky because it requires good reflexes. You’re aiming to protect your lower torso and legs.” Charles gave it a go, though his stance was a bit too wide.
“Too much space,” you said, tapping his knee lightly with your blade. “Keep your movements controlled. The smaller the motion, the quicker you can recover.”
“This is harder than it looks.” Charles exhaled, looking at the camera as he adjusted his stance.
“That’s fencing for you,” you said with a grin. “Last one, parry seven. This one is similar to parry eight, but it protects the inside of your body instead of the ourside.”
You demonstrated the motion, and Charles followed suit, this time managing a relatively smooth movement.
“Good,” you said, stepping back. “Now, key things to remember when parrying—keep your blade pointed at your opponent at all times. It’s not just about blocking, it’s about setting yourself up for a counterattack. As soon as you’ve parried, you need to riposte, counterattack, immediately. If you wait too long, you’ll lose your advantage.”
Marco stepped forward, foil in hand, and you turned to Charles. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
You squared off with Marco, and as he lunged forward with a mock attack, you parried effortlessly, your blade gliding against his and redirecting it away. In the same motion, you extended your arm, blade tip landing lightly on Marco’s torso.
“See how quick that was?” You said, turning to Charles. “It’s a fluid motion—parry and riposte, all in one go. No wasted movements.”
Charles nodded, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Alright, let me try.”
You stepped aside, letting Marco face Charles. As Marco slowly lunged, Charles attempted a parry, though his movement was slightly delayed, and his riposte lacked precision.
“Not bad,” you said encouragingly. “But don’t overthink it. The more natural it feels, the faster you’ll be.”
“Okay, let’s talk about stance,” you said, planting your feet firmly on the piste. “Your stance is your foundation, if it’s wrong, everything else falls apart.”
You demonstrated, keeping your feet shoulder-width apart, one foot pointing forward and the other at a slight angle.
“Your dominant hand is the one holding the foil. The non-dominant hand stays behind you, raised slightly for balance. So, which hand are you using?” You asked.
“Right.” Charles said, switching the foil to his dominant hand.
“Good,” you said. “Now, copy my stance.”
Charles mirrored your position, though his back foot was slightly out of place.
“Close, but—” you tapoed his leg lightly with your foil. “Your back foot needs to be at an angle, like this. Don’t forget to bend your knees slightly. You need to stay low for balance and quick movement.”
“Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly when Charles adjusted his stance. “Now let’s work on movement. When you’re in your stance, you need to be able to move forward, backward, and side-to-side quickly withou losing your balance.”
You demonstrated, gliding forward and backward with small, controlled steps. “Notice how my feet stay the same distance apart, no matter where I go. That keeps me balanced and ready to attack or defend.”
Charles followed your lead, though his movements were a bit stiff.
“Relax,” you said, smiling. “You’re not marching in the military. It’s more like a dance, fluid and controlled.” He tried again, this time loosening up slightly.
“Better,” you said. “Now let’s add a lunge, the lunge is your main attacking move. From your stance, you push off your back leg and extend your front leg forward, like this.” You demonstrated, your movement smooth and precise. Charles attempted the motion, but his lunge was too short.
“Bigger step,” you said, tapping his front leg with your foil. “You want fo cover as much ground as possjble without overextending.” After a few tries, he managed a decent lunge.
“Not bad,” you said, stepping back. “You’re getting there. Now, let’s put it all together—stance, movement, parries, and lunges. You ready?”
Charles grinned, gripping his foil. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Alright,” you said, picking up the body cord, “before we start, we need to get you all hooked up.”
Charles tilted his head, examining the cord. “What’s that for?”
“This is a body cord,” you explained, stepping closer to attach it to his fencing jacket. “It connects your weapon to the scoring system. When you land a valid touch, the electrical circuit completes, and the scoreboard registers the point.”
“So no sneaky hits?” He joked, watching closely as you secured it to his back and guided it through the sleeves of his jacket to attach to the foil.
“Not unless you want the referee to see it light up,” you quipped, making sure everything was in place before handing him a fencing mask. “Here, put this on.”
“For this first round, we’re keeping it simple, call it a trial run,” you said, rolling your shoulders and flexing your foil. “Marco will referee and keep things light. Just focus on getting comfortable.”
“Got it. Don’t go easy on me, though.” Charles raised his foil slightly, his excitement evident in his stance.
You laughed. “Trut me, Charles, I won’t.”
Marco stepped onto the side of the piste, holding a referee’s clicked in one hand. “Alright, trial run. I’ll call the touches. En garde!”
You and Charles took your positions at opposite ends of the piste, foils raised in salite before dropping into the en garde stance.
“Prêt? Allez!” Marco called, signaling the start of the bout.
Charles moved hesitant at first, testing his footing as he advanced. You let him come forward, observing his movements.
“Don’t forget your stance,” you reminded him, stepping back slightly. “Stay balanced.”
He nodded, adjusting his feet, and made a tentative lunge. Charles’ foil grazed your blade, missing the target area entirely.
“Close,” you said, countering with a light touch to his torso. Marco raised his hand. “Touch!”
Charles shook his head, laughing. “Okay, that was fast. Was that even one second?”
“Welcome to fencing,” you said with a grin. “It’s all about timing. Relax, though you’re doing fine.”
As the trial run continued, Charles began finding his rhythm. He landed his first touch on your shoulder, earing a quick ‘touch!’ from Marco.
“How does it feel?” You asked, stepping back for a brief pause.
Charles grinned under his mask. “Not bad! Are you nervous yet?”
“Me? Nervous?” You teased. “Cute. Let’s see how you handle the next round round.”
The second round began, and Charles was much more deliberate in his movements. He used the parries you had taught him, successfully blocking two of your attacks and landing another touch on your shoulder.
“Not bad, Lord Perceval,” you said, nodding as you reset your stance. “You’re learning quickly.”
“Of course,” he replied, his voice light with mock arrogance. “I’m a Leclerc. We adapt fast.”
By the end of the round, Marco called for a pause. “Alright, let’s use the scoreboard for the next one.”
“See this?” Marco said, pointing to the display. “Every valid touch will light up here with a beep. First to fifteen points wins.”
Charles noticed the screen, which displayed yor names, complete with small Monaco flags next to them.
“Wait, you personalized it?” He asked, laughing. “Now I feel like I’m in the Olympics.”
“Of course,” you said with a grin. “Nothing but the best for my big brother.”
Charles chuckled, lifting his foil again. As you adjusted your own, you bent the blade slightly, an action that caught his attention.
“Why are you doing that?” He asked.
“It’s something all fencers do,” you explained, holding the blade up for him to see. “Foils are flexible, and bending them ensures they’re in good condition and won’t snap. It also helps make the touches more accurate and less painful.”
“Huh,” Charles said, mimicking the motion with his own foil. “Interesting.”
“Alright, this is it,” you said, lowering your mask. “First to fifteen.”
Marco raised his hand. “En garde! Prêt? Allez!”
The boug began, and Charles quickly demonstrated his growing confidence. He moved fluidly, landing a few clean touches on your torso and arm. You could see his competitiveness kicking in, and you responded with sharper attacks, forcing him to parry and riposte.
Halfway through, the score was tied at 7-7, and the beeping sound of the scoreboard filled the room with each touch.
“You’re doing great.” You said during a brief pause.
“Thanks,” Charles replied, panting slightly. “But I’m not letting you win.”
“Good,” you said, resetting your stance. “Because I’m not letting you win, either.”
The intensity ramped up in the final stretch. Charles managed to land three more touches, bringing his total to ten, but you quickly countered with a series of precise attacks, pushing your score to fifteen.
Marco raised his hand as the final beep sounded. “Touché! Match for her—15 to 10!”
“Lifting your mask, you grinned at Charles, who pulled off his own mask, shaking his head in disbelief.
“That was incredible,” he said, still catching his breath. “I actually thought I had you for a moment there.”
“Well fought, champ! Ten points is impressive for a first timer, you did really great.” You said, resting your foil on your shoulder. “But I told you, fencing isn’t easy as it looks.”
Charles laughed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Yeah, no kidding. I think I’ll stick to racing.”
Marco, who had been observing with a smile, stepped in. “You were actually good for a beginner. You’re a fast learner, Charles. I’ve work with a lot of first-timers, and not many can pick up that quickly.”
“That’s true,” you chimed in nodding. “You were way better than I expected. Usually, people take ages to figure out how to lunge properly or keep their stance balanced.”
Charles’ grin widened. “Well, what can I say? It’s in my blood to be competitive.”
Marco laughed, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “You should come by more often during her trainings. You’d make a good parry partner.”
“Oh stop feeding his ego,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s already huge.”
Charles gave a mock bow. “Keep it coming, Marco. I’m soaking it all in.”
Marco just smiled as the camera zoomed in on you both as he continued. “Not, really, Charles. If you’re free diring off-season, you should consider it. You’d give her a good challenge, and it would keep her on her toes.”
“Hmm…” Charles leaned on his foil again, pretending to consider the offer. “Fencing during off-season. I might actually think about that.”
You laughed. “Sure, if you can handle beaten every time.”
“Bold words. But we’ll see.” Charles grinned. “So, what’s next for you? You’ve already won the Olympics. Where do you go from here?”
“Next up is the Fencing World Cup. It’s coming up in a few months, so I’m focused on preparing for that.” You smiled, feeling the excitement bubbling inside of you.
Charles nodded. “If people want fo follow your journey, where can they find you?”
“Everywhere.” You said with a laugh, then added, “but seriously, you guys can follow me on my social media. If you are curious about up coming tournaments, you can check out Team Monaco’s offical instagram. They post all of the updates there.”
Charles turned to the camera. “There you have it, guys.” He then faced you and Marco. “I just want to say thank you, for real. I know your schedules are crazy, and you took time to teach me something completely out of my comfort zone. I really had fun.”
“You’re welcome here anytime, Charles.” Marco smiled warmly. “You’re a natural. Who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be on the piste at a tournament.”
Charles laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“You did great today,” you grinned, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll see you fencing for Monaco one day.”
Charles smiled. “Only if you promise not to embarrass me in front of everyone.”
“No promises.” You teased.
Marco gestured toward the camera. “Alright, shall we wrap this up?”
You, Charles, and Marco all faced the lens. “Thanks for watching!” You said with a wave. “Remember, fencing is cooler than you think.”
“And harder than it looks!” Charles added. “Thank you both for taking the time to teach me, I had a blast today. It’s always fun learning new things.”
“Of course, Charlie!” You replied warmly. “We’ll be waiting for your next fencing session.”
“You’re always welcome, Charles.” Marco smiled. “Just don’t take too long to return, alright? We might have to recruit you into the team at this rate!”
All of you laughed as you said your goodbyes, and with that, the video came to a close, screen fading into black.
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lilyzneimer, landonorris, lilymhe and 88,746 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, gaiusthecaracal
yn.jpg just a regular day at the office (bonus: taught charles fencing, see slide 4! 😁)
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username8 never knew i needed to see charles in a fencing gear up until now 😮💨 THANK YOU MOTHER!
landonorris can’t believe you taught charles first, i thought i was gonna be the first one 😞💔
yn.jpg sorry, big brother privileges 😔✊🏻
charles_leclerc what she said! 😁❤️
landonorris i see that you have taken my advice
yn.jpg yes, and i owe it all to you sir 🫡
landonorris when will u be our quadrant athlete 😔🤲🏻
yn.jpg idk bro, what do they do? 🤨
yn.jpg just hit up my personal coach 😁
landonorris ME NEXT PLS
yn.jpg THERE ARE A LOT OF YOU WANTING ME TO TEACH YOU ALL FENCING 😭😭😭
lilymhe I ASKED HER FIRST! FALL IN LINE!!
landonorris IM HER BEST FRIEND
landonorris BESTIE PRIVILEGES
yourbestfriend EXCUSE ME????
landonorris EXCUSED
username9 WE FINALLY GOT A JPG ACCOUNT??? ACTIVE ERA IS UPON US?????
yn.jpg u guys really gotta thank lando for convincing me on making one bc apparently according to him, i always “ghost” you all 😞💔
username9 OHMGYGOSD I LOVE YOU 😭
username10 GAIUS 🥺🥺🥺🥺
username11 CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING 😭😭😭
username12 petition for you to have a yt acc or tiktok or smth 😔😔😔😔
username13 and then what? we all ended up being ghosted 😔😔😔😔
username13 she barely posts on instagram, and now that she has a jpg account, i’ll take what i can get tl have some y/n content 😔😔😔💔💔💔
username12 omg u right 😭😭😭
username14 ok, scuderiaferrari, just hear me out this once…what if y/n teaches charlos fencing on a tiktok or yt vid? huh huh huh, wouldn’t that be a great idea, right? 😁
scuderiaferrari hmmm, i think you might be onto something 🤔🤔🤔
username15 i will sacrifice my first born for this to happen 🤲🏻
username16 we are BEGGING, on our knees
username17 charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me. charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me 🛐
#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc 16#cl16#charles leclerc x sister reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x sister!reader#f1 grid x reader#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 imagine#cl16 x reader#cl16 x you#cl16 smau#cl16 one shot#cl16 fic#cl16 x y/n
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LOST IN TRANSLATION
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: it’s hard to talk to someone American when you don’t know English….so what happens when you meet an American boy who doesn’t know your language either…now you’re stuck with An unexpected meeting, unspoken words, and a connection that lingers…
Warnings: language barriers, reader is Italian, reader doesn’t know English, reader is a barista, tiny bit of awkwardness, based in Florence, possibly mispronunciation of the Italian language, a bit of anxiety (doesn’t have a lot of serious warnings)
Word count: 1.04k words
Authors note: hey guys!! just so you know, I don’t speak Italian at all so there is a possibility that I might have mispronounced the Italian I used in the story, but I really liked writing this one. I was watching a movie the other day and I kind of got the idea from that. hope y’all like it!!! (I want this to happen to me..)
The café in the middle of Florence was quieter than usual today, and the stillness only made the air feel heavier. You shifted behind the counter, the familiar hum of the coffee machine and the soft clink of cups the only sound filling the space. There was a certain unease growing in the pit of your stomach as you worked.
Today, you were alone, with your friend not coming in for their shift. It wasn’t the first time, but it always made you nervous. You were still new at this job, still figuring out the flow, and not being able to rely on someone else was making it a bit harder than usual.
You sighed quietly, trying to shake off the anxiety. It wasn’t like anyone was going to walk in and make things worse, right?
Then, the bell above the door jingled, and your eyes lifted instinctively.
A man walked in. His presence was undeniable—a tall, buzzed-haired figure with striking blue eyes that seemed to hold a spark of something you couldn’t place. He moved with confidence, his gaze sweeping the room, and when it landed on you, it felt like everything else in the café faded into the background. You weren’t sure why, but something about him made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t felt that way before, and it was a bit unsettling. Still, you tried not to let it show as you greeted him.
“Ciao, benvenuto! Cosa posso offrirti oggi?”(Hello, welcome! What can I offer you today?)
He didn’t immediately respond, and after a brief pause, you noticed the slight furrow of his brow. He was looking at you, but you could see the confusion in his eyes. Slowly, he opened his mouth, and his voice was thick with an accent, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian…. Do you speak English?”
Your stomach tightened. Of course, you had already guessed he didn’t speak Italian, but hearing it out loud only made the weight of your nerves feel heavier. You quickly nodded, offering a small smile. “Un po’ di inglese,”( a little English,) you said, your voice shaking just a little. “Not much…”
He looked at you for a moment longer, as though deciding whether to press on. Then, he smiled softly. “No problem,” he said in English, though it was clear that even his words came with some difficulty. “Uhhh… Uno cappuccino?”
You nodded quickly, feeling a small sense of relief that the order was something familiar. “Cappuccino,” you said, trying to keep things simple. The rest was up to you, though. You could make the coffee, but the conversation would be a bit more challenging.
As you began preparing the cappuccino, you could feel his gaze on you. It was like a weight on your skin, but not an uncomfortable one. It was as if he was taking in every small movement you made, and your cheeks flushed under the intensity of it. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but the way he looked at you made it hard to concentrate.
When you hold the cappuccino in front of him, your fingers brushed against his as he took it from your hand, you quickly pulled your hand away, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. He seemed to notice and offered you a gentle shy smile.
You glanced up at him, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest. He looked down at the drink, then back at you. “I—uh, I don’t speak Italian very well,” he said again, breaking the silence, “but You….you’re really beautiful…..” he said, his English slow and deliberate, the words lingering in the air.
You blinked, unsure of what he meant.
you didn’t fully understand his words so You tilted your head, unsure how to respond, your nerves coming back tenfold.
He noticed your confusion and chuckled lightly. There was a certain warmth to it, though. He pointed at the small flowerpot sitting on the counter beside you, then back at you, his gaze lingering on your face. “You,” he said, “like this. Beautiful.”
You followed his finger and then looked back at him, finally understanding what he meant. He had compared you to the bright, delicate flowers in the pot, and for some reason, that comparison made your heart race even more. You weren’t sure how to react, but a small shy smile tugged at your lips, and your face flushed redder than before.
“Grazie…”(thank you…) you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. The simple word felt like the only thing you could say in that moment.
He smiled, his expression softening, and there was something in his eyes and the way he too had a rosy tint to his cheeks that made your heart flutter all over again.
The moment stretched for a beat, before he cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. He handed you the money for the cappuccino, and you quickly took it, your fingers brushing his once more. He took a step back and nodded.
“I should go,” he said, though there was a hesitation in his voice. “Maybe… I’ll see you again….”
You nodded, a quiet smile still lingering on your lips. “Ciao,” you said softly.
“Ciao…” he says as he gave you one last smile, a lingering glance before turning and heading toward the door. The bell above the door jingled again as he stepped out, and you stood there for a moment, heart still racing.
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, still trying to make sense of the brief but undeniably impactful interaction. There was something about him, something you couldn’t put into words, that made your day feel like it had changed in an instant.
You glanced at the cappuccino machine for a moment, lost in thought, before you shook yourself out of it. Stop thinking, you told yourself. You’d barely spoken more than a few sentences to him.
But maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again…
Authors note: this is honestly so cute that I feel like writing another part to it, but let me know If yall like it and if I should write another part!!!
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#obx fanfiction#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagines#drew starkey x y/n#obx#rafe x you#rafe cameron fluff#rafe fanfiction#drew starkey fluff
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roster | mikha lim.
part one of three.
summary ; excitement was something she was missing and you provided it for her. she thinks you're clueless, but she doesn't know that every move she's made has already been played by you.
pairing ; mikha lim x fem!reader
content ; mikha goes to admu, reader goes to up, mikha volleyball player, BABAERO CONYO MIKHA!!!, hookup culture, half smau...., suggestive, read to see ^-^ !!! taglish w eng translations!
genre ; fluff, angst
wc ; 3.8k
playlist here !!
a/n ; thank u @heybeautifulstranger for helping me translate hehe labyu
mikha loved volleyball. without it, she was nothing. at least, that's what she believes.
she put all her time and effort into the sport, disregarding everything else to improve herself. she was already the star player; every young person in the country was familiar with the name ‘mikha lim’. although the girl was incredible at her sport – that wasn’t the reason why she was so well known.
mikha was attractive. she knew that and apparently everyone in the country did, too. people came to her games to watch her play, but not watch her play. mikha wished people focused more on her performance as an athlete, but she wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t like the attention. support was still support.
“huy, friday night na at nagpapractice ka pa? late na, mikhs. umuwi ka na. (it’s friday night and you’re still practicing? it’s late, mikhs. you should go home.)” her coach advised, putting equipment away. mikha laughed, gripping the ball she held. “not yet, coach. may energy pa ako. (i still have energy.)”
“baka namimiss ka na ng jowa mo. (your girlfriend might miss you already.)” she teased, earning another laugh from the star player. “i don’t have time for a relationship po.”
“oo nga, baka magalit ang mga fangirls and boys mo. (that's right, your fangirls and fanboys might get mad)” she joked, mikha rolling her eyes playfully. she threw the ball over to her coach, deciding to pack up for the night. “i can’t have a jowa when i’m supposed to be the nation’s girlfriend!” she grabbed her bag and water bottle, turning to her coach who was clearly amused by her answer. “i’ll go home na po, night, coach! see you next week.”
“bye, mikhs.”
she gets into her car, checking her phone for the first time in hours. dozens of notifications flooded her phone as soon as she changed her focus from do not disturb. ranging from message requests sent by ambitious and confident (delusional) fans to thirsty comments on her posts to getting tagged on edits, and so much more.
she ignored all of them and immediately checked her messages.
when she said she had no time for relationships, she meant it. but that didn’t mean no time for some fun. she drove home to freshen up and get ready to meet up with her friends.
the loud and busy atmosphere always amuses mikha. while some people enjoy quiet and intimate places, mikha enjoyed the club.
“lim! over here!” kyle, one of her friends, calls out. she made her way past the sea of dancing drunks and sat with her group. “get me a drink, kyle.” she said, making the group laugh. “wow, hello to you, too.” he sassed before getting up to get mikha’s go-to. “sinong target mo today, mikhs? (who's your target of the day, mikhs?)” evan asked with a smirk on his face. “kakarating ko lang, van. (i just got here, van.) let me drink first, then that question will be easy to answer.”
kyle shortly came back to the table with mikha’s drink, sliding it over to her excitedly. “thanks, kyle.” she dragged, taking a sip from the glass. “okay, you drank na. who’re you going after?” evan pushed, causing the group to laugh. “what if you just sit and relax, mikhs? it won’t hurt to go a night without sleeping with a random girl.” aiah suggested, foolishly, mikha thought. she scoffed, shaking her head. “ate aiah, where’s the fun in that? besides, i’m not in the mood to sleep with someone tonight.”
“then?”
“baka make out lang... (probably just make out...)”
and that’s exactly what she did.
as soon as she got a little tipsy, she moved to the dance floor and picked a girl up without even trying. she pushed the girl against the wall, her lips on hers and hands on her waist. mikha had no idea what her name was or where she came from. they made small talk before, but mikha didn’t bother listening. she knew where this was gonna lead and she didn’t want to waste time remembering details about someone she was never going to see again.
she pulled away from the girl, who’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “this was fun, thanks…?”
“jen! my name is jen! but it’s okay if you don’t remember! you wanna get out of here? we can get out of here!” she asked, eager to spend more time with mikha. she slowly let go of jen’s waist, squinting her eyes before shaking her head. “nah, i’m good. you have a good night, though.” and with that, she left the girl alone in the bathroom stunned and embarrassed.
she made her way back to her group’s table, all eyeing her with amusement in their eyes. “what?” she asked, grabbing a fry from the basket they were all sharing. “who was it?”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she shrugs, grabbing another fry to try and end the conversation.
“maybe you should check your hair and makeup before you leave the bathroom, lim.” kyle teased, catching mikha off guard. “shit, is it bad?”
gwen laughed before passing her a wet wipe. “nakakatawa ka, mikhs. (you’re funny, mikhs)”
“i don’t even remember her name. it was like jane something..?”
“jen?! jen santos?! you made out with jen santos?!” evan yelped, letting out the biggest laugh. “what’s wrong..? she was pretty.”
“yeah, she’s pretty. but she’s like.. obsessed with you. i heard she’s been trying to catch you at one of these things so she’s gone to every club in the area.”
“are you being for real..? what if we’re talking about different jens?” mikha suggested. but evan was quick to whip his phone out and show her jen’s account. “is this her?”
“oh..”
evan let out another laugh, causing kyle to laugh with him. “she’s just gonna keep coming here now! we need to find another place!” they joked, earning an eye roll from her. “she’s probably not that bad, you’re just–”
“mikha!” a voice calls out, catching everyone’s attention. it was jen. she walked over to their table a little too excitedly, standing over mikha and placing her hand on her shoulder. “i think you should rethink your decision, malapit lang ang place ko! (my place is near!) we could dip right now.” she offered, trying to be seductive. “ah.. i’m good, jane.” mikha replied, removing her hand off of her shoulder. “it’s jen, pero okay lang! (but it’s okay!) you wanna sit with me? nakaupo lang ako doon. (i’m just sitting there)”
“i’m good.. i’m here with my friends. you have a good night, though.” she smiled politely, trying her best to send her away. “oh, okay! i’ll catch you mamaya (later)! i’ll get your number or something.”
mikha simply nodded as the girl walked away, extremely giddy from the interaction. “shit.. no wonder why it was so much easier.” they all laughed at her, echoes of various comments following. “this is why you should’ve listened to me and stayed still.” aiah joked, but meant it.
“next time, i won’t even look at a girl.” her friends snickered knowing that would never be possible.
you were a casual sports enjoyer, being in a sports enthusiastic school – you couldn’t escape it. everyone would go to all the games, basketball, volleyball. it was one of the few things that brought everyone together, but it never came above your academics.
it wasn’t like all you did was study, you liked to think you had a healthy school life balance, going out with your friends whenever they wanted to hang out, seeing some people here and there. you were able to maintain a good social life with good grades and that was more than some people could wish for.
and your unexpected ‘attention’ really did help you get through a lot. it all started when you helped your best friend, jay, out with his band, x:o’s set at a local event. they were starting to become popular, their songs being played across the country. they were heavily praised for their good music and well.. good looks.
x:o consisted of five members, jay, jake, stephen, ricky and evan. they were indeed a group of attractive young men and managed to put out really good music. after the gig, the group’s account dedicated a post thanking those who helped out and you managed to catch the eyes of a lot of fans.
after the post, your social media accounts started to gain traction, earning a few thousand followers in the time span of a week. you appreciated the attention, but with your focus on school, you were never really active on social media, only posting a few pictures and a few tweets here and there. the attention only grew from there as more and more people started to approach you, later sharing on social media how kind and down to earth you were or how pictures didn’t do you justice. jay teased you for it all the time, joking about how he should be your manager since he’s the reason why all of this started.
your entire friend group has never missed a gig of theirs, but people only ever pointed you out. you and jay started to gain attention as a pair, people getting suspicious by how close you were, eventually leading to them thinking that you were dating. both of you never made an effort to shut the rumours down as you simply didn’t care. (and it helped jay a little with the people who would flirt with him)
your group would laugh at the posts knowing that you looooved women. you were jealous of jay because of the girls that would approach him; some very attractive girls. ‘i should’ve joined a band’ you would joke whenever a girl would speak to him.
x:o landed a gig at the vault, a very popular club in the area. every weekend this place was crowded, which is why this gig is a big deal. jay was setting up with his band while the rest of you (except angelo) had started drinking. “thanks sa food, ate jho! (thanks for the food, jho!)” sheena shrieked, stuffing her face with the food jhoanna bought for her. “wala yun… dapat magpasalamat ka kay y/n kasi treat niya ‘to. (it’s nothing, you should actually be thanking y/n since this is her treat.)” she glared, causing you to laugh. “okay lang yun, jho! libre kita next time, bribe lang kasi ‘to. (that’s okay, jho! i’ll take care of it next time, this was only just a bribe.)”
“ang daming tao rito, mga walay batasan. (there are so many people here, people with no manners.)” colet commented, kissing her teeth and subtly glaring at everyone she saw. “yun oh, yung naka green, suntukin ko siya, beh– (that one, the one wearing green, i’m gonna punch her–)”
“nakarating pa lang natin, may suntukin ka agad? (we just arrived and you’ve already found someone to punch?)”
whilst your group started bickering about colet’s impulsive (and violent) thoughts, the nation’s girlfriend had arrived with her group of friends. “guys, we were just here last week.” mikha complained, getting dragged by kyle. “since when have you ever been against clubbing?” kyle asked, “besides, we’re here for evan. supportive friends tayo diba? (we’re supportive friends, right?) our little rockstar, performing at our favourite club. full circle moment na ‘to, guys. umiiyak na ako. (this is a full circle moment, guys. i'm crying now.) ” the girls rolled their eyes at his drama, hitting him with teasing comments about how lame he was.
your two groups were together more often than anyone realised. despite having friends in the same band; your friend groups never came in contact with each other. jay was familiar with evan’s friends and evan was familiar with jay’s friends, but their friends knowing each other wasn’t the case.
mikha slid over to the bar, smiling at the bartender as a non-verbal order. she was here all the time and was very familiar with all the staff. while waiting, she looked around to observe the crowd and her eyes landed on an unfamiliar face. she stared at you for a few seconds, growing more and more curious as she watched you from a distance. feeling someone’s gaze, you turned to the side and locked eyes with the particular redhead. the both of you held eye contact until a glass was placed in front of her. she turned away from you to thank him and immediately turned her head back to your direction, but to her disappointment; you were gone.
she brought her drink over to their booth, everyone curious about her expressions. “nangyare? (what happened?) you good?” gwen asked, concerned. “yeah, i just think i found my girl for the night.”
“ayan ka na naman. (here you go again.)” aiah sneered, shaking her head. “sino ba? (who is it?)”
“i don’t know yet eh, but i’ll find out.”
you got back to your group with snacks in hand, sitting down next to sheena. “nakita ko yung atenean na volleyball player (i saw that atenean volleyball player). the redhead.”
“ah, mikha lim? nandito siya? (she’s here?)” jhoanna asked. “is that her name?”
“yeah, kaibigan ata siya ni evan. bakit? (i think she’s friends with evan. why?)” gelo replied, throwing a peanut into his mouth.
you shrugged and took a sip of your drink, “wala lang (nothing), she’s pretty.”
“her fans call her the nation’s girlfriend,” gelo added, making sheena giggle. “seryoso! (i’m serious!) babaero yan. (she’s a player)”
“ang corny, (how corny)” she added. you rolled your eyes at her, although you did agree. but you did see why they called her that. you only needed one glance to see that she was attractive.
as time went by, more drinks were bought. kyle was already failing to stand up straight and the band had yet to start. both groups made their way to the front of the stage, cheering as the much anticipated band started preparing for their entrance. “the vault, let’s make some noise!” cheers erupted as the five members walked onto the stage, all their faces laced with excitement and determination. “are we ready to have some fun tonight?” jake beckoned with his bass guitar in his hand. the cheers grew louder, all of you grinning at jay as you saw the excitement on his face, “this is ‘looking for somebody (to love)’, hope you enjoy!”
the familiar guitar melody started playing, jay and stephen immediately getting into it. everyone in the crowd started dancing along as jay started singing the first verse. mikha coolly bopped her head to the music, trying her best to avoid contact with random strangers. you were on the other side of the stage as she caught your eye, her red hair made it easy for her to stick out in a crowd. you admired how elegant her small movements managed to be, smiling briefly as you watched her dance with her friends. coincidentally, she looked up and locked eyes with you once again. a small smirk crawled across her face, pleased with the fact that she had your attention in this crowd. you sent a small smile her way before turning away to dance with jhoanna. she couldn't tear her eyes off of you. she needed to have you.
a few songs after, the crowd seemed to quiet down. “should we slow it down a little? gusto niyo ba? (would you guys like that?)” jay asked, playing with his earpiece.
“this is fallingforyou.”
What time you coming out?
We started losing light
mikha turned to find you, seeing you leaning on colet. you felt her gaze on you, tilting your head as your eyes met once again. she was amused, but she didn’t know why. there was something about you that was so alluring. she moved to face the band before turning back to look at you, but you were gone. again.
“uh, guys, i’ll be back.” she said, eyes searching through the crowd to find you. “yeah, yeah. have fun, mikhs.” they replied, knowing what she was leaving to do.
she pushed past dozens of people on the dance floor, relentlessly trying to find you. after getting past what felt like hundreds of people, she finally found you standing against a wall near the side exit with your arms crossed.
“eager, are we?” you asked as she walked towards you. “no.. not really. i mean, you must be though, right? leaving the crowd to wait for me here?” she grinned, standing over you. “who says i’m waiting for you?”
“your eyes are telling me everything i need to know.” she mumbled, hand travelling to your waist. “everything? really?”
And on this night and in this light
“am i wrong? do you have something else to say to me?”
you hummed, pretending to think, letting her pull you closer towards her. “bilisan mo na. (hurry up.) i’ve been thinking about you for almost an hour now. my patience is running out.” she complained, ducking her head into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo. your breath hitched as her face moved closer to yours, “can i?”
you replied by grabbing her neck and placing your lips eagerly onto hers. mikha let out a breath of content, pleased with the contact you two were finally making. she gripped onto your waist, soothing you with caresses every now and then.
I think I’m falling, I’m falling for you
your lips moved against each other with vigour, pouring out all of the lust and need you managed to have for each other in a short period of time. for the first time in forever, mikha was excited. she loved the feeling of your lips against hers, the faint scent of your shampoo, how you felt in her hands. she didn’t want to stop kissing you.
you pulled away briefly, placing your head on her shoulder, trying to catch your breath. “you.. i...” she began, unable to form words. you laughed and patted her cheek, not bothering to speak as you knew you’d go through the same struggle. “you wanna get out of here?” she managed, looking down at you with lidded eyes. “i’d love to, but i’m here with my friends.” you answered, the taller girl clearly not pleased with your answer. “please,” she whined, wrapping her arms around your waist to bring you into a hug. “i don’t even know your name, i can’t leave with you.” you laughed, hugging her back regardless. “my name’s mikha, can we go now?”
you laughed once again against her shoulder, shaking your head. “well, mikha. i still can’t leave with you.”
“thank you all so much! we’re x:o, we hope to perform for you guys again soon! mag ingat kayong lahat! (take care everyone)” you heard from the speakers, causing you to fix your posture. you slowly let go of mikha, getting an annoyed groan out of her. “i have to go, it was nice meeting you, though! mag ingat ka, ha? (take care of yourself, okay?)”
“wait, what?”
“i’ll see you, mikha.” you smiled, locking lips with her once more before you ran into the crowd to find your friends.
“wait! i don’t even know your name!”
mikha groaned, throwing her head into her hands. who cares if you were with your friends? she could take care of you (in more ways than one). she stayed there for a few minutes, trying to fight off the warm feeling you left her with. she made her way back to her friends shortly after, evan finally joining them. “mikhs! i was wondering if you were gonna come back. you okay?” aiah asked as she sat down next to her. mikha defeatedly dropped her head onto aiah’s shoulder and sighed, “yeah..” was all she let out.
she felt frustrated, you brought her so much excitement and even if she wanted to do it again (which she did); she wouldn’t be able to. this was the first time she wished she made some sort of small talk before, because other than the taste of your lips and the scent of your shampoo – she knew nothing about you.
you rushed back to your friends, blindly trying to fix your appearance before reaching them. you saw colet waiting besides the door that led backstage. “well, well, well.” colet began, “nakakatawa ka talaga, beh. (you’re really funny.)” she laughed before dragging you inside. “look who i found. bumalik siya, guys. (she came back, guys.)” you rolled your eyes at her before hugging jay, “good job, jayboy! you did great tonight.”
“eh, pano mo malalaman? nawala ka bigla. (how would you know? you just disappeared.)” sheena joked, sticking her tongue out at you. “i heard the entire set! ano ka ba? (what are you saying) i was just doing something.” "right.. right.. you should fix your makeup, y/n. that something didn't really hold back."
“what?!” you asked, grabbing the mirror jhoanna was holding out for you and immediately turned around in embarrassment. you quickly tried rubbing the lipstick marks off your face as your friends laughed at you.
“whatever, guys. basta (anyway), good job, jay.”
he laughed but was thankful for the support. "it's okay, y/n. it's a club! i encourage this behaviour, in fact - i endorse it." you rolled your eyes at him as he slung his arm around your shoulders. "let's go na? back to mine? we can get food and drinks on the way." he suggested, wanting a more intimate celebration. "paano ang mga bandmates mo? celebration niyo? (how about your bandmates? your celebration?)" angelo asked. "we had our little moment na after the show. bukas yung celebration namin. okay lang. ready na ba tayo? (we'll have our celebration tomorrow. it's okay. are we ready?)" you all agreed and hurriedly made your way out of the venue.
mikha spent the rest of the night trying to find you, not knowing you left from the back exit.
“god, mikhs. who the hell did you hook up with? you’ve been so out of it since you came back.” kyle commented, evidently noticing her friend’s odd behaviour. “i wish i knew, i literally don’t know what her name is. i feel like an idiot, i begged her, for fuck’s sake. i don’t beg.” she complained, taking another sip of her drinking, causing aiah to take it away. “okay, that’s enough for tonight. lasing ka na, uminom ka na ng tubig. (you’re already drunk, you should drink water now.)” mikha groaned at her but listened anyway.
“can you describe her?”
“ganda. pretty. cute. ganda. hot. pretty. gwapa. i don’t know,” she slurred, slamming her head down on the table dramatically. “whatever, i don’t even care.” she continued.
mikha got over you the next day, but slowly, a week went by and you still occasionally managed to cross her mind. she still wondered about who you were and unfortunately still wanted to see you again, but there were plenty of fish in the sea and you know, it wasn’t that serious.
– hope u enjoy..... @yumtooki :3
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Sign the Dotted Line (Chapter Six)
Summary: You have a special opportunity to travel with the boys, making it a mini vacation while you're at it. This makes it the perfect opportunity to turn over a new leaf with Minho, or so you hope.
Pairing: idol Minho x fab reader
Genre: angst, fluff (for 2 seconds), smut- 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: dry humping, p in v penetration, multiple creampies (wrap it up), slapping. I think that's it.
Notes: Y'all we are nearing the end, with this being the second to last chapter of this mini series! It is kinda bittersweet haha. Also yall toxic relationships are bad don’t be like the reader in this story. I felt like I should say that. Anyways, this is lightly edited, as I was exhausted, so please excuse any typos.
I hope you like this chapter! If so consider a reblog, comment, or like. My dms are open as well! ♡
New chapters posted on Saturdays at 1pm CST!
Series Summary: You are living an ordinary life until one day you come across a notice from your favorite band Stray Kids, that the company is looking for a girlfriend for one of its members Lee Minho. Thinking you have nothing else to lose, you apply. This one action causes your life to change forever.
Series Masterlist
Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)
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“So y/n,” Chan said, “how are you holding up?”
Chan searched your face, looking for any sign of discomfort. You started to relax at his reaction, always having a soft spot for the man.
“I’m fine Chan.” You said.
Chan looked skeptical, not believing your response. You chuckled at the expression on his face.
“Chan I’m fine. I promise,” you repeated with a chuckle.
Chan seemed to accept your answer the second time around.
“Ok good. I know things have not been ideal and tough recently…well since you arrived.”
That’s an understatement you thought. Things have definitely not been ok since you arrived.
Chan shifted in his seat, it was almost like he was nervous which was odd for the leader.
“Come on Chan, spit it out,” you chuckled.
He gave you a grin, “ok ok you got me y/n. I wanted to explain why minho is…the way he is.”
At this, you straightened up, your full attention on the man in front of you. You’d be lying to yourself if you weren’t interested in what he had to say, anything helping to get a glimpse into Minho’s mind.
“Minho is…stubborn. He not in tune with his emotions most of the time, surprising them until he does something rash.” Chan stopped as if he were thinking.
“He’s also possessive, and I don’t think he likes when we’re overly friendly with you.” Chan said, running his hands through his hair.
“I hope he’ll talk to you soon. Maybe actually explain himself better than I am now. We just don’t want you to leave y/n.”
You listened to Chan’s explanation. It made sense, every bit of what he was saying. Minho did seem possessive, you could tell as he was giving you the best fuck of your life. Was he acting out because of that?
“Thanks for explaining Chan, I appreciate it. I’m not leaving though. The manager refused to terminate my contract,” you nervously chuckled as you remembered that conversation.
“Oh? I figured as much.” Chan said. Well we’re happy you’ll be staying. I’m sure minho will be happy too even if it doesn’t seem like it.”
Chan gave you a warm smile. “Well now that’s done shall we go back? It’s almost time for the meeting.”
You nodded getting up and following Chan out the door. That conversation was actually helpful, giving you an insight into Minho’s mind. You hoped you both could talk at some point.
You both made your way back to the practice room, slipping inside the room and making your way to the couches. Felix gave you a huge smile, making room for you on the couch. You couldn’t help but smile back at Mr. Sunshine himself and plopped down next to him.
Everyone was chatting, and there was the occasional scream, the chaos a familiar and comfortable sight at this point. The door opened and Harin and Seoyun walked in, making their way to their boyfriends. You kept looking over at Minho, who was lost in conversation with Jisung. He looked okay, didn’t seemed affected by the turn of events a few days before. However, you knew looks can be deceiving.
A short while later, the door opened, the manager walking into the room. Everyone quieted down, looking at her expectedly, giving her their undivided attention. She pulled up a stool and sat down before beginning the meeting. She went over logistics, taking about the upcoming comeback, rehearsal schedules and other minor things. At the end of the meeting she mentioned one other thing, stating that the boys would be going to Japan for a fan event. The girls could come if they wanted as there would be part of the trip where the members could sight see.
Harin and Seoyun clapped their hands, excitement on their faces. They were definitely going to go. You weren’t sure if you should go, you’d definitely have to think on it. The meeting wrapped up, everyone going their separate ways. You got up, getting ready to go when you were stopped by Jisung.
“Where are you going? Stay with us! We’re going to grab something to eat.”
You looked at the boy in front of you, hope in his eyes. You couldn’t say no, not to this face. You shook your head yes, as he smiled at your answer. You sat back down next to Felix who immediately started chatting with you. Your mood improved as the conversation went on.
“Y/n, please tell me you’re coming to Japan with us,” Felix said.
“I…I don’t know Felix. I’m not sure I’d be…welcome.”
Felix looked shocked, his eyes growing wide. “Why wouldn’t you be? We love you!”
“Thanks Lixie. But not everyone loves me,” you said as you hung your head. You started picking at your nails as the blonde stared at you. Recognition dawned on his face.
“Y/n, you know he would actually like you to be there. You don’t have to tiptoe around us just because of an argument with Mr. Stubborn.”
You giggled at the nickname Felix gave Minho, a smile breaking out on his face at the sight.
“Ok, ok Lix. I’ll go okay,” you laughed.
“Perfect! We’ll have so much fun sight seeing on our off days!”
You had no doubt about it. With this group you’d be surprised if you all didn’t get kicked out because of the chaos. You couldn’t hide, not anymore. You had to enjoy the moments as they came and this was a perfect opportunity to do. You weren’t going to let “Mr. Stubborn” as Felix called him get in your way.
Weeks passed and the day came for the group to head to Japan. You couldn’t lie, you were excited to go, as you’ve never been there before. You decided to meet with the girls before and then go to the airport together, avoiding the fans and paparazzi that was going to be there to see the boys. You were happy about this, as you still hadn’t gotten use to the nonstop flashing of lights from the cameras.
All three of you left the dorms, and made your way to the company car. You slid in next to Seoyun, settling in for the ride. You looked out the window, watching the scenery go by, many cars speeding by. It didn’t take long to get to the airport. The boys had already made it as you saw groups of fans and paparazzi following a group of men as they headed into the airpot. Grabbing your bag, you braced yourself, hoping most of the people would stick to following the boys.
The car pulled to the curb, and Harin opened the door to get out as she was closer. There were a few groups of people who turned around and saw you three get out the car, excitement on their faces once they recognized who you guys were. As you made your way to the door, you bent your head, shielding your eyes from the flashes of light from cameras.
You thought the flashes would end once you got inside, but it continued, a constant light blinding you as you made your way to the security checkpoint. You lifted your head to look ahead, noticing the boys in front of you. You had hope and were thankful that they were close. Getting through security was a slow process, with you three girls standing in the back most of the time until it was your turn. Thankfully, you didn’t have much you had to take out of your bag, making it easy to go through the detectors without issue.
Once you, Harin, and Seoyun made it through, you breathed a sigh of relief, the hoardes of people not allowed past security. You jogged to catch up to the boys, Jisung noticing you right away.
“Y/n! Hi! I’m so happy you’re here!” He said giving you a big, gummy smile.
“Hi Ji,” you said. You couldn’t help but smile back, the crowds of people forgotten.
“We’re going to grab a bite to eat while we wait to board, wanna come?”
You shook your head, noticing the other girls had made their way to their boyfriends. You could go for some food. You followed Jisung over to where Felix and Jeongin were standing, the younger boys giving you a wave and smile as you approached. You couldn’t help but look around, your eyes looking for Minho. He was standing with Chan and Harin, looking hot as always in a simple white tee and sweatpants. You quickly looked away, not wanting anyone to catch you staring.
“Alright, ready?” Felix asked.
You all nodded and began walking over to a kiosk selling ramen. After ordering, you made your way to the register ready to pay, only to have your hand slapped away, preventing you from hading your card to the cashier.
“Na uh y/n, I’ll pay ok?” Jisung said, giving you a stern look.
You could tell he was not going to budge, so you surrendered, stepping aside to let the man pay. He grinned as you moved, handing his card over to pay. You grabbed your bowl and made your way to a table with the others. The food looked amazing, as you were starving, not having ate anything since last night. You groaned with the first bite, the flavor heavenly on your tongue.
You passed the time until take off with the boys, as they laughed and joked around. Jisung started to talk about places he wanted to go on the off days, and foods he wanted to try. You listened in awe, amazed that they knew so many neat spots. Of course, you remembered they have been to Japan many times, and know their way around a little.
Looking at your watch, you mentioned you all should probably head back to the gate, boarding would take place soon. They agreed, grabbing their trash to dump on the way back. Felix fell in stride with you as you all walked back to the gate.
“Sit with me?” He asked, hope in his eyes.
You nodded yes, more than happy to sit with the sunshine boy. Felix grinned, happy you agreed. Once you all made it to the gate, boarding began, as you all filed onto the plane one by one. You settled in your seat, Felix sitting next to you. He chatted with you while you all waited to take off, the others joking around with you. The boys snapped pictures to send to fans, the plane filing with laughter. You smiled along, their happiness contagious.
Before long, it was time to leave, the plane making its way down the runway and up into the air. You settled into your seat, closing your eyes for a nap. You would need every ounce of sleep you could get, as you’re sure the agenda would be packed with activities. You drifted off, the sound of the engine as your background noise, hoping to sleep soundly until you landed.
You were awoken by being jostled in your seat, your eyes opening in a panic, looking around for the cause of the disturbance. Felix placed his hand on your lap calming you, letting you know the plane just landed. You gave him a smile, straightening up in your seat and smoothing your hair down. You all got off the plane, making your way to the cars waiting to take you to the hotel. You were about to get in the car with Felix, Jisung, Changbin, and Hyunjin but you felt a hand on your back guiding you away from the car.
“The boys have schedule today, they’ll be back later,” Harin said guiding you to a separate car.
You looked up seeing Seoyun get into a separate car. You slid in behind her, Harin following suite. The driver was taking you three to the hotel, as you were not needed for any schedule activities today. You couldn’t wait to get to your room, shower, and take a nap, exhaustion kicking in from the flight. Looking out the window, you took in the sights. There were people everywhere, walking on the sidewalks, on bikes, even the traffic was slow.
Not too much longer passed before the driver pulled up to the hotel. He helped you all with your bags, before bowing and getting back into the car. A staff member was already in the lobby, waiting for your arrival. They handed each one of you your room keys and dismissed you. Taking the keys, you grabbed your suite case and followed the others, making your way to the elevators.
Once on the assigned floor, you said your goodbyes and parted ways. You keyed yourself in, and stepped through the threshold, closing the door behind you. Tossing your shoes off, you took in your surroundings. There was a nice king size bed in the center of the room, a couch, and mini kitchenette. You walked to the window, pulling back the curtains to peak outside. Your room was facing the street, giving you a view of the busy road below, people making their way quickly to their destinations.
You closed the curtains once more and opened your suitcase, pulling out everything you needed for a shower. You decided to sleep in one of your sleep shirts, as the room was a little too warm for comfort. Stepping into the large bathroom, you turned the shower on, quickly discarded your clothes and got in. The water felt great on your skin, washing away the impurities from travel and the sweat that you are sure accumulated on you since your arrival. Once done, you turned the water off and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your body. It didn’t take you long to get dress, tossing on a pair of panties and slipping the shirt over your head. You put your hair up into a messy bun and padded your way to the large bed.
Pulling back the covers, you slid in, sighing as your back hit the soft mattress. You felt like you were in heaven, surrounded by the fluffy covers. You felt your eyes droop before they shut for good as you succumb to sleep. You were dreaming, you knew you were dreaming because Minho was there, looking good in all his glory. He kept trying to reach out to you, but you would turn away, not wanting to entertain him. The process went on and on until you locked yourself in a room, locking the door to get away from him. It seemed to work until you heard a knock on the door, which you ignored. However, the knock kept coming, eventually becoming a pounding on the door. But wait, why would the sound get louder? Unless…
Your eyes flew open, as you looked around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You startled as another knock came to your door. This must have been what you had heard in your dream. Stretching your limbs, you got out of bed, padding your way to the door. You stood on your tiptoes to peek through the peep hole to see who it was. There stood Minho, at your door, his hands tucked in his pockets.
You were shocked, not expecting to see him, especially as you just dreamed of avoiding him. He was about to knock again when you pulled open the door, his hand paused midair. You both stood there staring at each other, neither knowing what to say. You decided to let him talk since he was the one to show up at your door. You watched as Minho’s eyes scanned your body, his eyes lingering on your bare legs. You looked down, your face heating up, realizing you were only in your sleep shirt.
You looked up once more, meeting Minho’s eyes once more. He took a deep breath before saying, “Can I come in? We need to talk.”
You considered telling him no. You wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed and go back to sleep. However, the rational side of your brain knew you should let him in. You both really needed to talk, especially after you had that discussion with Chan.
You nodded your head and stepped aside, allowing him to cross the threshold. You closed the door and made your way into your room, signaling for Minho to sit on the couch. He walked over before sinking down, stretching his legs in front of him. You opted to sit on the edge of the bed, your legs dangling. You sat in silence as you waited for Minho to say something.
He seemed nervous, as he kept wringing his hands, as he crossed and uncrossed his legs. You had never seen him so nervous, as he always seemed confident in his words and actions. You could tell he was struggling internally with himself, probably about whether or not he should go through with this. In the end, he must have decided to just get it over with as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Y/n,” he said, his voice cracking a little. He cleared his throat before saying once more, “Y/n, I want to say I’m sorry for how I’ve acted over the last few days, hell, for since we met.”
“I…” he looked down at his hands, as he shook his leg. He swallowed, before looking up again. “I do like you y/n, more than you know. I um…I love you. I guess I didn’t know how to handle my feelings and express them. Yeah at first I was pissed, but it wasn’t you. I was mad at the company and well you happened to be here and I took it out on you.”
You listened as he rambled on, expecting every word after talking with Chan. It was nice to hear it from him, it was a start to mending your relationship.
“I am a little possessive, I don’t like to see you with other men, even if it’s the members. It does make me irritated I guess. I’ve talked with the others about it and they think I’m dumb of course, but I just want you to myself.”
Minho paused as he seemed to be reflecting. There was silence throughout the room as you waited for him to continue.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and it may take a while if you do decide to forgive me, but I want to apologize and hope you will consider forgiving me y/n.”
He seemed to be done, as he sat back, took a deep breath and let it out. You appreciated his words, knowing it took everything in him to come before you and apologize. You know he’s possessive, you know he’s stubborn, and you know he likes things his way. But, you also know how kind he can be, how he loves the members, how he loves his family, and yes even how he loves you.
You figured it out pretty quickly, but didn’t want to believe it, thinking no one who loves you treats you that way. Of course your theory was confirmed after speaking with Chan and now after listening to Minho. Thing is you had already forgiven him, but didn’t want to move things too quickly, wanting him to step up and take responsibility for his actions. You were willing to push past this, as you still had to abide by the contract.
You let him sit there and struggle, watching as he looked everywhere around the room except at you. You smirked to yourself at his reactions, as the boy was stressed, probably worried that you’d reject his apology. After a few more moments however, you decided to respond, put the poor boy out of his misery.
“Thank you,” you said, his head snapping up at your words. “All I wanted was an explanation, an apology. You’ve treated me like shit this last year. I adored you before signing this contract, thought you were an amazing person. Of course that perspective changed once I actually got to know you. You’re stubborn, and yes possessive, you like to do things your way, but I also know you’re a good person.”
You stopped, as you shifted on the bed. “I guess I forgive you Minho cause I guess I kind of love you too. We can start anew.”
Minho looked at you, his eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He couldn’t believe your words. You forgave him, just like that. He silently thanked his lucky stars. He shook his head, a smile starting to form on his face. You got up and walked over, quickly closing the gap. You grasped his face between your hands and sealed the promise of a new relationship with a kiss, you lips molding with his.
Just like you remembered, his lips were soft, easily moving along with yours. Minho gripped your hips and brought you closer, as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. You relaxed your stance as you kissed the man in front of you feeling like you were where you should be.
As Minho kissed you, he pulled you into his lap, having you straddle him. The kiss grew more heated as he ducked and nipped at your lip, causing you to let out a moan. You rolled your hips along his covered cock, sighing out at the pleasure you felt. Minho gripped your hips and smoothed his fingers over your skin before snaking his hands down to your ass.
He gave the flesh a squeeze before guiding your hips back and forth, as his hardened cock brushed against your core, catching your clit just right. You whimpered at the feeling, as you wrapped your arms him and buried your face against the crook of his neck. You felt him shudder beneath you as your breath fanned against him, his as he gripped your hips harder.
With a growl deep in his chest, Minho pulled you away, picking you up and placing you down on the couch on all fours. Your head was resting on the back of the couch, your legs spread so he could see your glistening pussy. You turned your head to look at Minho as he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out. He dragged the tip through your folds, teasing your clit over and over. It felt good and you couldn’t wait for him to breach your walls, filling you up over and over again.
“Minho, please,” you whined, arching your back more to present to him.
“Please what baby?” Minho asked, still sliding his cock through your lips, coating the tip in your arousal.
“Give me you cock, need you cock Minho.” You replied, desperation in your voice.
Minho chuckled before slamming into you, the sudden stretch causing you to yell out. He picked up a brutal pace, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. You listened as Minho let out a loud groan, adjusting his stance in order to go deeper. The change in position cause his cock to rub your sweet spot just right, the pleasure mounting which each stroke.
You felt your high approaching, as Minho abused your pussy, his cock kissing your cervix again and again. He gripped your ass, his fingers digging into the skin before he let his hand come down, slapping the flesh, causing you to moan.
“I missed this pussy baby,” Minho said, his breathing fast, his chest raising and falling rapidly. He was close, your walls hugging his cock just right, like you were made for him. He missed you and your quirkiness and your smile. He missed listening to you talk with him, no matter the topic. He was never letting you go, he knew that for sure. He guesses this is what people mean when they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.
“Will you cum for me baby? Cum with me..” Minho breathed out, as he thrusted a few more times before stilling and emptying his load into you. He heard your moans, as his hot cum painted your walls, you clenching down on his member again and again. With a loud wail, he felt you cum, as you spasmed beneath him, your walls fluttering again and again.
Minho squeezed your hips before pulling out, his cum dripping onto the couch below. He pulled up his pants leaving them unzipped before lifting you up, carrying you to the bed. Placing you beneath the sheets, he pulled off his pants completely and slid in next to you, cradling you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head before saying, “I love you.”
You responded without hesitation, saying I love you back. You did love this man. You had fallen for him long ago, your heart split in two when he denied you. However, you were, in the man you love arms. You were happy he explained himself and apologized, the future looking brighter. Of course there is still a part of you wondering if he will go back on his word, just like last time. You hoped that was not the case and were willing to take the chance.
Moments passed, silence throughout the room. The only sounds you hear is the thumping of Minho’s heart as you lay on his chest. Minho gently shifted, placing you on your back, settling between your legs. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, his own gently massaging yours. The kiss grew heated, his tongue pushing into your mouth to entangle with yours.
You felt him push your leg up before gently sliding into your warm heat once more, as he set a gentle pace, slowly thrusting his hips into yours. He swallowed your moans, your breath getting faster as the pleasure deepened. Minho looked you in the eyes as he thrusted, moving his hand to grab yours and intertwine them, placing them above your head. The sensation was heightened, the pleasure building throughout your body, slowly making its way to your core. With a few more thrusts, you tipped over the edge, your back arching off the bed as your orgasm spread through you, causing your toes to curl and vision go white. You came hard, the feeling so intense, you couldn’t stop, as Minho continued to make love to you.
The sight below him was beautiful, you lost in ecstasy because of him. He took in your beautiful features, as you came, his cock twitching within you. He rocked his hips again and again, his orgasm approaching. A few more thrusts and he felt his release, once more flooding your walls.
You sighed at the feeling of his cum once more hitting your walls, as your breathing slowly returned to normal. Minho pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling out and getting up. You watched as he walked to the bathroom and heard the water running. A moment later he came out, a washcloth in his hands. He gently wiped you down, cleaning you of the sticky fluids. Once done, he tossed the towel away before sliding in next to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.
Minho looked you in the eyes, searching them for any regret, not finding any. “I’m never leaving again,” he whispered, kissing you once more.
“Thank goodness,” you replied, a smile on your face as you snuggled closer to him. You felt in your gut you could believe him, his actions being louder than words tonight. You were more than ready to move forward with your boyfriend, and tonight would be the start of your brand new beginning with Minho. As you drifted off to sleep, you dreamed of Minho, showering him with your love and for the first time in a long time, you slept like the dead, comforted within the arms of the man you love.
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