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trashytracktales · 1 day ago

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Fade to nothing | CL¹⁶

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none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.

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𐙚 summary ──── Maybe the summer break on the French Riviera fried their brain cells, because they've finally decided to simply not care anymore if someone sees them together. But when she catches the wrong stares, she starts spiraling. Now, Charles has to switch her focus back on him.

𐙚 pairing ──── Charles Leclerc x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, secret relationship going public, fluff & smut, overusing French terms of endearment, descriptive language, mature/sexual content, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, lots of teasing, reader dealing with insecurities.

𐙚 word count ──── 5.5k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 10, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Foaming at the mouth, because I find it so very offensive that I don't have my own personal Charles Leclerc. Anyway 😤. As Daniel Ricciardo said, enjoy the filth. Wait, no. That's me 🤍🎀

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THEIR DAY ON the French Riviera begun in a golden haze. Hand in hand, they strolled through picturesque streets, enjoying every moment together. In public. For the first time.

They walked across the town like they were the only two people left on Earth, passing by quiet art galleries and stylish boutiques. For the most part, all she focused on was the pure excitement of being with him, holding his hand had, taking pictures and making memories. But as the day went on, her awareness of the curious looks she caught grew stronger.

The sun is now slowly setting, painting the horizon in a warm orange glow just as they return to Charles' boat. As though nothing could possibly bother them here, Charles puts his arm around her and guides her on board. Then, he offers her a gentle smile, his gaze full of warmth while telling her he's heading over to make some drinks.

The girl watches him for a moment, allowing herself to take in the serene comfort he exudes, and wishing she could absorb even a small portion of it. She always feels it when she looks at him, and this time around, nothing is different. On the contrary, somehow, it's as if everything she feels for him comes together in a tiny, small point, a singularity so powerful that it makes her feelings collapse on top of each other.

She rushes to the cabin to change, but her hands start to shake halfway through, and she can feel the doubts weighing her down. She keeps thinking about the subtle judgment she saw in their eyes, which serves as a reminder that many people might believe they jumped into this too soon and that she is only a fling — a stand-in for his previous relationship.

Even though she tries to push the thought away, the sadness comes too quickly, and tears start to well up in her eyes. Suddenly, she feels small, so out of place, as though she’s a visitor in his life rather than someone who belongs beside him.

Which sucks, because she really, really likes him.

She was always confident; she thinks that was one of the reasons why Charles noticed her in the first place. But now, it is as if all her confidence has evaporated under the gaze of some random people she doesn't even know.

They both agreed to keep the relationship a secret in the beginning, just as they both agreed that today they won’t care if anyone sees them. They've stayed hidden from the world for far too long, but now she wonders if they should have waited just a little bit longer because, all of a sudden, she starts feeling too unprepared for the wave that is about to hit, which sends her spiraling.

Because it takes her too long to return, Charles comes to check on her, finding her in the cabin, sitting on the edge of the bed, half naked and clutching one of his shirts to her chest. Usually, he's not the type to intrude, but the soft sound of her quiet sobs fills the small room, piercing through him like a sharp, unexpected ache.

Without a second thought, Charles sprints over, kneeling down in front of her, his gaze steady, filled with raw concern, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She feels his hand on her thigh, which brings her back to the present moment, way too fast. Her breath is slightly shaky while her hands try to instinctively pull away from his gentle grip to wipe her cheeks, in order to hide any trace of her tears.

Looking down at him, she manages to let out a choked word that holds so much weight for her right now, “Us.”

“Us?” Charles raises an eyebrow. “What about us, mon cœur?”

She smiles, pressing the shirt closer to her chest, wiping the tears again with the back of her hand.

“I want you to have it all,” she admits, “And I'm starting to think that, maybe, I won't be able to give you what you need.”

He wants to immediately deny her statement, because in the four months they've been together, she gave him everything and more.

“What? What do you think you don't give me?” he asks, taking the same hand she wiped her tears in his palm.

She shrugs, “I just think… I sometimes think you deserve better.”

Better. The idea twists in his mind, disbelief and frustration tightening around his heart like a claw. He lets out a small scoff — not to mock her, but because it's hard for him to believe that she's doesn't think she's enough for him. It breaks his heart, because she cannot be further away from the truth.

“Where is this coming from?” asks Charles in a quiet, but firm tone.

She shakes her head, wishing she would've never opened her big mouth, “I was just thinking,” the girl repeats, letting out a dry chuckle. “It's nothing, really.”

Charles’ eyes travel across her face, taking in every micro expression, “You're crying, mon amour, so it's not nothing. Where is this coming from?” he asks again, “How much ‘better’ do you think I deserve?”

Her fingers start fidgeting in his grasp, eyes fixed somewhere over his shoulder, “Everyone loves you, especially your fans. You deserve someone who matches that, someone who belongs in your world, without feeling so small next to you.” She pauses for a moment, the words weighing her down, “I saw people staring today,” she explains, “I know we’ve both agreed to not care about what they think or if someone gives a fuck about seeing us together, but I realized how out of place I must look beside you. That’s all.”

Charles needs superhuman powers to ignore the frustration that’s slowly creeping around his shoulders. His eyes are intent, fixed on her, desperate for her to see what he does. He knows that her feelings are valid and very real to her, but that doesn't mean that they tell her the whole truth. At the same time, he doesn't want to make it worse by explaining why people's opinions shouldn't affect her the way they do. Instead, he gently grabs her hips, pulling her down to sit on his lap, so she's now straddling him, their faces inches apart.

“Listen to me,” he says, his voice low, “You see me, beyond everything everyone else sees, and that’s why you are more than enough. You are the realest thing that has ever happened to me, do you understand? You're not just a phase, and I'm so sorry I didn't show you enough how important you are to me. Because you are, bébé.”

She bites her tongue in order to stop herself from contradicting her boyfriend. Deep down, she knows she’s flawed in ways she can’t easily mend, no matter how much Charles wants to reassure her. A part of her wants to believe him, but even now, wrapped in his warmth, she knows the doubts will find their way back.

Charles’ hands drop on her waist, resting there while holding her close on his lap. He feels her doubt, understanding that she's struggling with more than what she lets him to see — another dagger to his heart.

“I'm with you, love,” he adds, rubbing his thumbs in small circles on her bare skin, “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Not if I have any say in it, is that clear?”

His voice sounds far too bossy, which makes her flinch a little, recognizing too late that he is far too blunt for the situation they both find themselves in.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“No, don't apologize,” Charles rushes to say, pressing her head against his chest. “I’m glad you told me, but I want you to care about what I say, and not what people might say.”

He envelops her completely in his arms, and it’s like he’s just now realizing how small she feels against him, her body fitting perfectly against his. She feels that, too — the warmth and steadiness of his arms around her, the way he grounds her, making her feel safe.

“I never doubted you, you know,” she clarifies, “I was just thinking that, if I can't handle pressure, I don't think we should…”

He tightens his grip around her waist, refusing to let her finish her thought, his heart screaming in agony as she tries to move away. “Don’t go there, please,” he almost implores her.

“Why not?” she whispers.

“Because it’s not the case, I promise.”

“But—”

“Because you'd be so wrong. Because I love you,” he continues, as if it's the most casual thing ever. Like it is as obvious as tomorrow. As easy as breathing. As automatic as blinking. As if it's not the first time he ever says it to her face.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The words are ricocheting against her skull like he just put a spell on her. Of course Charles loves her. He showed her this through every little gesture along the way, and she knows he means it, because for the first time since they got back, she realizes she doesn’t want to run from this, from him.

She was so blind, but the next time she looks at him, her fingers tracing his cheek, she simply knows. Charles lets out a small sigh, leaning into her touch, then taking her hand back in his, pressing a gentle kiss on top of her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Tell me you see it,” says Charles, exhaling a heavy breath.

His gesture makes her feel warm inside, “See what?”

“That you are everything to me,” he answers softly, caressing her hand with his thumb. “That I want you exactly as you are.”

For a moment, understanding dawns in her eyes — the realization that they are real, in spite of what she might think — like a light that is breaking through the doubts that had clouded her mind for so long.

“You are mine and I am yours, and I won't have it any other way.”

She exhales slowly, nodding in his direction. Even though he's able to see the relief washing over her face, he still needs a confirmation, so he can anchor himself to it.

“Say you understand.”

“I understand,” she parrots, sinking her teeth into her lower lip.

He sees the hesitation, closing his eyes for a moment. “You understand, but you don't believe me,” Charles concludes, his voice full of wonder. He sucks in a breath while freeing her lip, brushing his thumb against it. His eyes lock on hers, “You really think there is someone else out there who makes me feel the way you do, hm? Who else is going to be this responsive, baby?”

To show her what he means by that, he pushes his thumb inside her mouth, Charles' soft voice sending shivers down her spine. She opens up more, instantly, gazing back at him, realizing how right he is. Meanwhile, Charles is slowly pushing his thumb further, watching her lips closing around it.

His mouth curls up into a smile, “That's it, mon amour. Oui, see that? I don't think there is anyone else out there who can be this good for me, so eager to submit to everything I do,” he laughs, “Hell, I don't even have to tell you what to do, you just know, baby.”

She closes her eyes for a split second, sucking on Charles’ thumb, her hands gripping tightly on his forearm. It makes him feel in control more than usual, which awakens something primal in him. He ends up caressing the side of her face with his fingers as he pushes his thumb deeper, pulling it out with a soft pop, before shoving it back in.

“So fucking good for me, and you think I deserve better? What’s better than this, mon cœur?”

As a response, she moans slowly around his deliberate, slow movement. He finds it so satisfying to see how easily she listens, understanding exactly what she needs from him in return — patience, kindness, reassurance, and trust.

Charles pumps his thumb one more time before pulling out, using it to leave a wet trace down her neck. His hand tightens around it for a brief moment, bringing her back to him. She opens her eyes, still under the spell he put on her earlier with just three little words. Her eyes are dark as she looks up at him through her eyelashes, the desire in her eyes sparking like fireworks.

“You need this, don't you?” he asks curiously.

She nods, which makes Charles smirk. It’s easy to notice the subtle shift in her energy — the way she presses her body closer to his, and the way her breathing deepens. Charles sees the vulnerability in the way she looks at him, but he knows is different now; she’s not hesitating anymore.

Something flickers inside of him as her hand lightly but purposefully caresses his chest; she wants him to take the lead. She isn't seeking power or domination, but asking him to guide them both through this. And Charles understands she’s giving him the space to be the one to move them forward, because this is more than just a physical need. It's about how she decides, here and now, that she trusts him completely.

They stand inches apart, the air between them heated and taut with silent yearning. Every part of their bodies is tuned to each other in a way that feels so delicate yet urgent, and Charles can feel her heartbeat synchronize with his, both of them pounding in anticipation. Her lips are slightly parted as her eyes glide up to his, a silent invitation he cannot refuse. The outside world seems so far away, as if all that remains is this common understanding that neither of them is willing to let go of.

The kiss begins shyly and slowly. At first, his lips are gentle against hers, a slight touch that seems to carry the weight of all they have been resisting. She reacts swiftly, her hand slipping into his hair, drawing him in and intensifying the kiss.

Then everything changes — the pressure grows desperate, almost vital as the intensity increases. She melts into him, pressing every inch of her body against his as if she can't get close enough. It drives him wild, forcing him to tighten his grip on her.

Slowly but surely, their make out session turns into a silent cry for something more profound, as her fingers tighten in his hair to pull him closer. Their chests heave and their foreheads rest against one another until they eventually split apart, panting for one more breath of air.

“Forgive me, mon amour,” says Charles, trying his hardest to regain his composure.

“Forgive you?”

“Because I made you doubt us. Doubt me, and how I feel about you,” he clarifies, breathing wetly above her skin. “Will you let me show you how sure I am about this?”

She nods again, smiling, her hands still resting on his chest.

He gets up to lay her carefully on the bed, positioning himself between her legs as he unbuttons his white shirt. Meanwhile, Charles’ eyes glide over her bare chest and the way her wavy hair spills over the pillows, making her look like an angel.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as he leans over to kiss her neck, then going further down, sucking bruises all over her chest on his way to her stomach, claiming his girl with every flick of his tongue against her skin. He cups her breast in his palm, squeezing her enough to feel him all over her body, his lips reaching over her panties. “In case I wasn't dead fucking clear already,” Charles adds softly, almost like a promise, hooking his fingers on the lace material before pulling it down her legs, “I only want us. Like this. Always.”

She moans softly, anticipating his fingers to send her to another realm, far from any doubt. And her world does, indeed, change completely the moment she feels his tongue at her entrance instead. So hot and soft and warm against her, that her fingers curl instantly into his hair while his tongue slips between her folds, as if that is its rightful home.

“Charles,” his name comes out of her mouth in the form of a whine, sending little jolts towards his already hardened cock.

“Putain,” he chokes out, raising his head to look at her, “Nobody tastes like you do, baby. So sweet and wet for me.”

“Charles,” she whines again, her chest rising and falling with burning intensity. “Please…”

“Patience, bébé,” Charles chuckles, his voice vibrating hotly above her, “Let me worship you, so you won’t question me ever again, yes?”

He would have heard her agreeing with him, if Charles hadn't slipped his hands under her until his palms gripped her ass to pull her closer to his mouth. As a result, he hears her moan louder than before, smiling as he connects his lips back on her pussy, sucking on her clit with a newfound thirst.

His grip on her is so strong that even if she wants to push her hips further, she can't move an inch. Which drives her crazy, because his tongue works her with such frivolous movements, bringing her so close to the edge, but she still needs more.

“Baby,” she moans painfully, getting too agitated that it makes her get up, proppting herself on her elbows to watch him. “Fuck, Charles,” she adds, admiring how beautiful he looks between her legs, lapping at her with one goal in mind.

She tries to rock her hips back against the pressure again, which just reminds Charles of how good he makes her feel. The thought drives him mad and, even though it’s all about her right now, he can’t stop fucking his hips down so he can rub his aching cock against the bed, searching for any sort of friction.

“I feel you, baby. Don’t hold back,” says Charles, his voice sounding muffled between her legs.

His tongue is enough to make her come all over his face, he knows that, but he can't deprive her of his fingers when she needs him the most. So, he uses his hand to split her further under his mouth, making sure he touches her sweet spot again and again. And again, until a wave of pleasure hits her like a tsunami, shaking her to the core as she cums involuntarily. She tries to pull him out of her legs, because she knows how messy it gets when she comes that hard, but Charles drops his mouth back on her, driving her through her orgasm as his tongue finally stops at her entrance to catch the rest of her release. Then, he swallows her sweetness, letting his forehead drop on her thigh.

Their breathing is the only thing that can be heard in the entire cabin for a while, her palm resting on his cheek to caress him gently as they both recover slowly.

“So fucking hot, mon cœur.”

She sighs, still too sensitive from the pleasure that reverberates throughout her body, “Come up here,” says the girl, patting Charles’ head.

He pushes himself up, still half dressed and very much hard in his boxers. Charles lays his weight on her, exhausted, like he's came ten times by now. Gently, he rests his head on her chest while her arm wraps around him and his palm curves around her breast, pinching her nipple lazily between his fingers.

“You’re so perfect,” he says, enjoying the way she gets covered in goosebumps under his breath. “So perfect and so mine.”

She can't say anything to him without her voice shaking, so she gently grabs his chin, bringing Charles on top of her to kiss him. She feels her own taste as their tongues collide, causing her to moan softly into his mouth. Even if this kiss is much, much tamed than the previous one, just the thought that he was between her legs makes her pussy tighten, as if she's been set on fire from the inside out.

“Can I return the favor?” she finally asks in a breathy voice once their lips part.

Charles hums at the mental image of her mouth around his cock, but decides to push the thought deep into his mind, “Who said I’m done with you, mon amour?”

Charles' hand travels to her pussy once again, his middle finger gliding lightly over her wetness. Her eyes close in pleasure, while her arms wrap around his neck, before she realizes what he's actually doing. Her eyes snap at him as he reaches the letter 'R', Charles grinning proudly from above her.

Their faces are so close she can see the twinkle in his eyes, and their breaths blend together in a sweet warmth.

She laughs, “Did you just spell your name on my clit?”

His expression instantly lights up when he hears her. “Planned to do it with my tongue, but I didn't expect you to come that hard,” he admits, joining her in laughter.

She blushes at his statement, remembering how true it is. It's impossible for Charles not to notice that, but he loves it when her cheeks and chest become so rosy as a result. He also loves the sounds she makes when she's turned on, so he's not wasting any more time before teasing her wet entrance with his finger, pumping it slowly, until he feels her clenching around it. Just to make her forget the shyness, of course.

His flemish gaze sweeps over her entire body and, seeing her so vulnerable and willing beneath him, makes him want to run his tongue over every inch of her, to cover her in kisses and love marks until it's too much, so that he can come all over her pretty nipples just at the sight of her.

“Fuck, if you could see yourself right now,” says Charles, exhaling sharply. “You make me lose my mind, you know that? I almost forgot I still have to show you how mine you are. You want that, baby, don't you?”

“Yes,” she returns to whining, because apparently that's all she knows recently.

And she does it again, when his fingers pull out of her way too soon for her liking. She follows Charles, getting rid — fucking finally — of his shorts and boxers with a quick movement, poising himself again in his place, right between her legs.

She swallows hard at the sight of him, her mouth drying up in record time. She remembers the first time she saw Charles naked and how it didn't even occur to her that they would even fit. Of course, he made it work, because that's what a man with a huge cock does — it makes it fit.

The girl follows Charles as he wraps his dominant hand around the base, then runs his hand along its length, massaging the tip to spread the pre-cum. He made her feel so good, she didn't even take into consideration how torturous it must have been for him. But the little hums he lets out as he positions himself at her entrance are enough of a signal for her to push her hips against him.

Unfortunately, the man meant every word when he said he wasn't done, so he won't simply let her have it, just because she’s so willing to take him. She has to understand, once and for all, that this is it — she is it for him.

Slowly, Charles taps the head of his cock at her entrance, teasing mercilessly. It's almost like a punishment for thinking so low of herself, for doubting him, his feelings for her and what they've built together so far.

A lot can change in four months, especially feelings.

He lets out a shaky breath as he parts her folds with his tip, but instead of pushing inside, he fucks his cock up between the lips of her cunt. Once. Twice. Three times, until he's leaking on her clit, coated in her wetness. It is a sinful feeling that makes them both moan in unison, an ecstatic duet between two souls who found each other at the right time, no matter what people would say about it.

Fuck people. All of them.

She throbs against him, the feeling of skin on skin settings her atoms on fire. His hardness feels so good between her folds that she needs to anchor herself to something, and the sheets are far too fragile for her grip.

“Yeah, you feel that, ma vie?” asks Charles rhetorically when he sees her losing herself. “Of course you do. The question is, did you feel it before?”

“Charles…” she whimpers, pushing her hips against his length in order to find the sweet friction she craves. “Need you. Please.”

Her eyes are watering as she feels the knot in her stomach, waiting for a release that seems so far away — he’s not even inside, fuck's sake.

“So pretty,” hums Charles, ignoring her pleading. “You're gonna look so pretty taking me, ma belle. You always do.”

She raises her head only to let her eyes wander down Charles’ body, from his flushed face to his toned abs, down to where his cock rests hardened between her pussy lips. His eyes are locked on where they're making contact, the image so intimate and powerful it makes him want to scream. She realizes that this is a punishment for him as much as it is for her, but he enjoys it more since he's the one in charge.

She gasps in surprise when Charles grabs her thighs, her head falling back down on the pillows. He pulls her closer as he leans over to seal his lips with hers, having no intent to be soft this time, the passion that burns between them pushing him so close to the edge.

Charles’ tongue tastes her in a rush as he pushes forward, his cock pressing deliciously on her clit, making her break the kiss with a pathetic whine.

So predictable.

“Can you, please, fuck me already?” she says, frustration evident in every word she utters.

Her pleas are so close to get him, wanting nothing more than to bury himself so deep inside her, until he feels her coming on his cock all over again. But Charles groans loudly, hovering above her chest to take one of her nipples in his mouth, biting her gently.

At that, her frustration only grows bigger, forcing her back to arch against him.

“Charles,” her tone is demanding now, motivated to make him understand she's done playing.

“Don't worry, I’ll fuck you so good, baby. Turn over for me,” he replies, anticipation tugging at the edge of his patience.

She does as instructed without saying another word, feeling his hands grabbing at her waist to pull her against him. Then, Charles pushes his palm gently between her shoulder blades until her face is buried between the silky pillows. She lets a muffled moan while his knees are pressing down into the mattress on either side of her thighs, his cock resting hard against her ass.

“Did I mention how pretty you are?” he asks, not expecting an answer in return, while he finally guides himself toward her needy cunt. He pushes in, slowly at first. Deliberate and calculated, as if their initial contact is meant to gather as much data as possible, so he can choose the perfect setup for what's about to come — the position, the angle, the pace. “Such a pretty girl,” he adds with a tamed moan, “Opening right up for me. Every single time, baby. Taking me so well.”

She tries to get up by doing a weak push-up, but her head drops heavy between her shoulders as she fucks back against Charles' length, the pleasure overwhelming her.

The feeling of having him like this makes her squeal, failing to find a single thing worth more in this world than Charles thrusting from behind.

“Oui, have my cock, baby, like that,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss on her shoulder, managing to hit her deeper from this angle.

Charles' touch is still gentle, though, like he's testing the grip, desperately wanting to find the perfect balance as he eases into a rhythm made just for them. He takes every gasp and every shiver of her body as signals, relearning what makes her pulse race and using everything in their favor.

She turns her head to the side when Charles leans over to clasp the edge of the mattress, his knuckles whitening with the force he's putting into it. The veins on the back of his hand look like they're about to pop at any moment, bulging from his skin and snaking up his forearm, finally out of her view as they reach his elbow.

He's so hot and she is so turned on that she could come again just by looking at his arms.

Charles' pace begins to build, the intensity in his breathing growing more labored with every thrust of his hips. Each one is bolder than the last one, like he's reaching the apex of a corner, pressing into her just enough to feel the thrill without losing control. As a response to his movements, she starts breathing in short spasms, the world around them becoming a blur.

“That's it, bébé. You're so fucking good for me, I'm not… fuck,” his voice almost gives out, feeling how close he is to cum from fucking her like this, so he decides to pull out completely in order to prolong the feeling.

Charles learned from an early age that every race is unpredictable, so he has to adapt to any condition.

It makes her cry at the emptiness, her pussy clenching wetly around nothing while he looks down, curious too see how bad she needs him.

Her head falls back between the pillows for the hundred time, too exhausted to scold Charles any more. So, she guides her hand between her legs, firmly massaging her clit, feeling her thighs start to shake. However, the pressure is not nearly as good, which makes Charles chuckle at her weak attempts.

Patiently, he grabs both of her wrists to keep them pinned to her lower back as he uses his free hand to rub the head of his cock against her throbbing hole.

“Chaaarles,” she whines loudly, pressing her cheek deeper into the silky fabric under her, mind too numb to protest further more.

He buries himself back in with a strong thrust, making her gasp at the fullness. Somehow, it feels so much better than before, her body so sensitive in all the places they make contact.

With every shift in pressure and pace, Charles reads her reactions as if they are telemetry data on his steering wheel.

“Please don't... Don't stop again, please,” she lets out another cry, feeling her walls clenching so sweetly around him. “You feel so good, fuck, I… I'm so close.”

He knows that. That's why he stopped in the first place. But now he's ready to give her exactly what she needs, freeing her wrists as he watch them fall next to her body as if they're lifeless. Charles then grabs her waist with both hands, thrusting into her so hard that the sound of their bodies slapping together drowns out both of their moans.

“Want to fuck you for the rest of my life, amour. Please, let me fuck you for the rest of my life,” he implores, panting aggressively.

“Oh, yes,” she agrees, squeezing her eyes in pleasure.

Charles pulls out again, making her grunt at the loss. But before she gets the chance to protest, he flips her over, shoving his cock back in while searching for her eyes, a smug smile hanging from the corner of his mouth.

She moans in relief, pulling him closer, wrapping her hands around his neck to bury her fingers in his messy hair.

“I almost started barking at you,” she admits, rolling her hips with his.

“I know, baby. Just wanted to see your face,” he explains, finding his pace once more.

“Oh, yes. Yes, feels so good,” she begins to moan uncontrollably under his weight, just as Charles leans down to rest his forehead against hers.

“I know, I know. I've got you, my love,” he kisses her again but it doesn't last this time.

Their mouths remain parted, breathing heavily against each other as she comes around his cock, gazing into each other's eyes as if they could see what shape their soul have. Seeing her face changing in pleasure, makes Charles fucking into her faster, following so closely after her.

His moans sound so melodious in her ears while he rides their orgasms, that she starts believing honey is dripping from his lips, because he cannot be real.

Charles is about to pull out when she stops him with a hand on his lower back.

“I only want us, too. Like this. Always,” she repeats his words from earlier, more determined than ever. “And I think I love you a tiny bit more,” she continues, running her hand up his spine. “That's why I was so scared.”

Charles shivers under her gentle touch, “You still scared?”

“Terrified,” she replies, giggling, pulling him in to capture his lips in a loving kiss.

The kind that makes the rest of the world fade to nothing.

thank you for reading!

reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

193 notes · View notes

mj0702 · 2 days ago

Text

Secrets

Something different than the usual...

“Amor... Estic a casa!” Alexia said loudly as she pushed the door shut with her foot her arms full with groceries

“I'm just saying Jenni...” you said hoping no one heard your girlfriend in the first place

“.... qué??” Jenni said confused but the little flicker of your eyes didn't go past her “... todo bien?”

“Sí... bien” you said quickly directing your attention back to the screen

“Vale....” your best friend chuckled knowing exactly why you were distracted for a split second “... so you wanted to answer some questions sí?”

“Sí.... let's have a look...” you said scanning through the questions fans send in while Jenni and you yapped about anything and everything a few minutes before

“I like this one...” Jenni smirked “... what got you to move to Spain?”

“What got you to move to Spain?” you repeated confused and distracted as you watched Alexia padding through the living room bare feet

“TU... no yo” the Madrista rolled her eyes still smirking

“Sí... yo” you mumbled your eyes following your girlfriend who just started to put away the groceries

“Ay.... Ojos en la pantalla....” Jenni snapping her fingers in front of the camera trying to get your attention

“Lo lamento” you mumbled your eyes quickly moved to the screen again getting greeted with your best friend grinning wolfish “What was the question?”

“What made you move to Spain” the dark haired snorted

“Ehrm... I mean.. when Barcelona knocks on your door... you don't really throw that door shut in their faces” you rambled

“Oh come on... lame” Jenni rolled her eyes

“What... that's what made me move to Spain” you said bewildered

“I was the reason you moved to Spain” Jennis smirk widened

“You were the reason I nearly didn't accept the deal” you shot back

“Puta” your best friend snorted “.... stop lying”

“Well... we DID share a flat in France...” you grinned “... you're imposible to live with”

“¿¿disculpe?!?” your best friend exclaimed her hand over her heart “WHO brought you into hospital when you decided that the 7 week old yoghurt was STILL good to eat”

“Kurvetino” you grumbled blushing and the swear word made Alexia look over from the kitchen “... and WHO always walked through the apartment naked? And I mean NAKED”

“Yeah well...” Jenni grinned again “... I mean... look at me... who wouldn't...”

“My PARENTS saw your....” you started but then shut your mouth quickly “... next question”

“Vale... how did you two meet?” your best friend read of the screen “... I came to play for PSG and they made me share a flat with her because no one else wanted to”

“Puta... that's NOT how it went” you exclaimed annoyed “... they ASKED me if I could show the spaniard around and maybe teach her basic French... I had nothing better to do so I said yes.... next thing I knew was her climbing into my bed in the middle of the night complaining how cold it was”

“It is cold in France” Jenni pointed out not denying the rest

“It was summer” you rolled your eyes

“Still... I need warm temperatures” your best friend said

“You LITERALLY complained yesterday on Instagram that it was “too hot for 9.30”....” you looked at her expectantly

“I'm...” Jenni started as delicate fingers grabbed your chin turning your head and you felt soft lips on yours making you completely freeze

“Vaig dir que sóc a casa Amor” Alexia mumbled against your lips after she ended the sweet kiss

“I'm...” you pointed at the screen where suddenly the comment section exploded

“Oh please... it's just Jenni” your girlfriend snorted

“... and around 9.000 fans watching our little Live session” you murmured not daring to look back at the screen seeing how the eyes of your girlfriend got big

“Well...” the blonde was at loss for words

“Don't worry Chica...” Jenni now snorted “... I saw way more of you two than a kiss... I once...”

“Callarse la boca!!!” you interrupted your best friend quickly already knowing how her mind works

“Looks like you just confirmed all the rumours that floated around you two for a while now” your best friend smirked

“Well... no point in denying it now is there...” you rolled your eyes at the smug look on Jennis face

“Next question” the dark haired sing songed while your girlfriend still stood a little off screen rooted in her place her face a blank look of horror “How long have you been dating Ale... uh uh uh... I know the answer... I know the answer!!”

“But obviously no one cares about you since the question was directed to me” you huffed “... a little bit over 9 Month now...”

“... aaaaafter...” your best friend pushed

“After Jenni Hermoso introduced us at the Ballon d'Or.... her words were “This is mi Amiga Alexia... Alexia this is y/n... she doesn't speak a word spanish... teach her” and gone she was” you grumbled

“And oh she did” Jenni laughed “Was looking for you all morning the next day”

“NOTHING happened okay... you left me stranded you Kurvetino” you exclaimed and suddenly your girlfriend rebooted herself pushing you out of the frame

“I swear Jenni Hermoso... if you still gloat about the fact that you were the reason we ended up together – you are not” Alexia said

“But I am...” your best friend huffed “... you would never had the balls to talk to her if it wasn't for me”

“I was just waiting for the perfect timing” your girlfriend exclaimed while you try to find your balance

“I provide perfectivity” Jenni smirked proudly “... I'm your perfect timing”

“Bas si gnjavator” you mumbled appearing on screen again

“Sí... I am” your best friend smile even more proud

“You have no idea what I just said” you deadpanned

“That you love me and are forever grateful that you met me” Jenni grinned

“No...” you rolled your eyes

“That you love me forever and I'll be your Maid of Honour once Ale pulled her finger out of your.... HER ass and finally asks you to marry her” the dark haired grinned

“No... but you could be Godmother...” you smirked “... if you beat Keira to it... she's actually nice to me you know”

“Pff... that stand in bench friend...” Jenni rolled her eyes huffing not catching on what you just revealed as Ales hand protectively found your stomach

“Jenni” you groaned

“She only there for the time I can't” your best friend defended herself

“Well... YOU decided to fuck off to Mexico” you grumbled

“You know...” she started

“I do know...” you said softly ignoring the “screaming” of the fans in the comment section “... but sometimes I just wish you'd still be across the hall”

“You could always come here.... Sandra is coming too...” your bestie said hopefully

“I don't think so... Spain is treating me quite well...” you smiled slightly softly looking over to your girlfriend

“I mean... it would be funny... a Croatian player trained in France, her prime in Spain... retired in Mexico” Jenni grinned

“Far from retirement thank you...” you snorted “... but I do have to take a break soon”

“Your knee again?” your best friend face converting to pity

“Oh no... knee is fine...” you waved off “... sometimes you're just so dense Hermoso... even the fans already caught on”

“Caught on what?” your best friend asked confused

“Okay... official then” you huffed trying to calm your nerves feeling how your girlfriend started to draw small circles on your stomach in silent support “Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes... you know I love you to the moon and back...”

“Ehrm...” Jenni looked a little lost successfully interrupting you “... you sure you want to say all that with your girlfriend right next to you? If this is an offer for something... more than a friendship... I have to pass”

“Shut up and don't interrupt me again” your voice mirroring your nerves “... I love you... you are my best friend and I couldn't asked for a better friend than you... you've been with me through my highs and lows... you were the first one by my side when Carmona broke my knee in that game and you've been with me through everything... so... Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes... I couldn't ask for a better Godmother to my child than you... so would you do us the honour and be my babies godmother?”

“What?” your best friend looked flabbergasted at you while Alexia stood up retrieving the ultrasound pictures

“I need you to be there for my baby the way you've always been there for me” you said your voice strained with stress as your girlfriend handed you the little pictures

“What?” Jenni asked again as she couldn't wrap her head around the new information

“Jenni... please” you begged shoving the ultrasound picture towards the camera

“You... you messing with me right?” your best friend shook her head and in that moment your heart broke a little bit

“No...” you shook your head slightly biting your lip so you wouldn't start crying

“I... no wait...” Jenni stuttered and you watched how she stood up starting to roam the living room all the way in Mexico her hand in her hair

“Jenni” you begged desperately successfully getting her attention back on you the comments of the fans all forgotten as she just looked at you coming forward disconnecting the live

“Mi Amor” Alexia whispered softly as you tried to hold in your tears while the fans went absolutely mental about Jennis reaction to your news

“Can you...” you quickly said motioning towards the screen as you stood up speed walking into the bedroom closing the door behind you

It didn't took long until Alexia quietly opened the door to find you curled up sobbing quietly a spanish national jersey clutched in your fists as you cried into the material.

“Oh mi amor” your girlfriend said her heart breaking at the sight of you

“I thought...” you sobbed out as you felt the bed dip behind you

“Ssssshhhh...” Alexia hushed you gently laying down behind you her hand automatically finding that small bump that was the only evidence so far that a human was growing inside you “... sleep mi amor... I promise when you wake up it will be better... promesa”

“She's my best friend Ale...” you sobbed clutching the jersey tighter pressing your face into the fabric

“We maybe shouldn't have told her when so many people were watching” your girlfriend said knowing it was Jennis Jersey in your hand – you always got out her jerseys when you missed her it was your way of coping with the separation

“I didn't plan on it” you said thinking it was your fault

“No bebé...” Alexia quickly said “... don't start to think it's your fault... you felt it was the right thing to do”

“Obviously it wasn't” you sobbed “... she hates me now”

“No...” your girlfriend said softly pulling you closer into her “... Jenni could NEVER hate you... she's probably just... aclaparat”

“Overwhelmed” you offered the english translation

“Sí.... she needs to sort her head out” Alexia pressed soft kissed to your temple

“Good luck...” you chuckled quietly “.. it's Jenni”

“Sleep mi Amor...” your girlfriend said gently a little relieved that you calmed down a little bit

“Your child wants pollo al ajillo and patatas bravas as a midnight snack” you mumbled your eyes closed already

“Hm... I'll see what I can do to make our daughter happy” Alexia smiled into your neck her hand gently caressing your stomach

You were physically and mentally exhausted when you woke up the next morning. Alexia being the loco woman that you fell in love with already out running on the Beach like every morning and you knew she'll probably be back within the hour. You groaned as you rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom trying to get your day started when your eyes fell on the scrunched up jersey that laid carelessly on your dresser. Immediately your thoughts flew back to the afternoon before and to the reaction your best friend showed over the news of you being pregnant. You always wanted kids. Jenni knew that. She was there when you broke down in tears after a meaningless one night stand as you took a test. You wanted kids yes – just not like that. Jenni promised you all the years back that she would be there no matter the outcome. Now apparently her view on things have changed. You thought she would be over the moon. Maybe cry a little bit out of happiness. But not.... nothing. You felt so empty. You should've feel joy and happiness but right now you just felt empty. Your fingers felt the fabric of the Jersey your memories flooded back to the day Spain won the World cup. The second the final whistle blew you saw Jenni sinking down on her knees praying to whoever was listening above her thanking whoever would accept her silent prayer. Seconds later she sprung up to her feet sprinting over to where you were waiting for her. She pulled you over the barrier laughing loudly crying at the same time. Before you know it she pulled her jersey over her head and she woman handled it onto you.

Alexia watched you as you mindlessly stroked your fingers over Jennis jersey obviously deep in thoughts. Alexia was angry. This deep anger she knew she shouldn't feel towards also HER best friend but the way Jenni reacted to such important news was just – Alexia didn't know how to call it. It was more than inappropriate. It was just – not acceptable. Your girlfriend stood silently in the doorway sweat running down her back and her abs as she saw how your other hand came up to rest on the little bump. Alexia decided to leave you be with your thoughts knowing that no matter what she would say it wouldn't help you at all. The only person who could help you was Jenni. Jenni. The person who was responsible for your sadness but also the person who was the only one to pull you out of it – it was a paradox on. The blonde tried to sneak away as quietly as possible but you already sensed her presence turning around

“You've been quieter...” you smiled but Alexia saw the sadness in your eyes

“I still am... if I want to be” your girlfriend answered her face showing sorrow

“She'll... come around right?” you asked your voice cracking a little bit “.... she just needs time to process”

“Sí mi amor” Alexia covered the distance to you with three strides pulling you against her the Jersey still clutched tightly in your fist “... you know her... she's... dense... she just needs more time than others to understand”

“I don't have anyone else Ale...” you felt tears filling your eyes once again “.... I don't have anyone I want our kid with if something...”

“Nothing will happen mi amor...” your girlfriend spoke against your hair “... we'll see her grow up and be strong and brave and beautiful... so basically Jenni is not needed...”

“Who is your person?” you asked your head placed over Alexias heart

“Mapí” Alexia said seriously “And before you veto – with Mapí comes Ingrid... I trust Ingrid to take good care of another child – she has plenty of experience by then... she can make all the mistakes with Mapí and IF she's needed then she knows what she's doing with our Princesa”

“What if it's a Principe?” you chuckled at your girlfriends train of thoughts

“We can give him away and try again” your girlfriend deadpanned and it made you laugh

“Tell me she'll come around” you begged a second later as the hormones getting the better of you again

“She will...” Alexia pressed a kiss to your forehead “... even if I have to go all the way to wherever she is in Mexico and slap some sense into her”

It was two days later when something pulled you out of your not so peaceful slumber. It was some sort of ringing so you did what you always did

“Ale... your alarm” you groaned pushing your girlfriend harshly

“Sí...” Alexia mumbled against your shoulder still asleep

“Alexia” you grunted loudly pushing her again “... turn your alarm off”

“Lo siento” your girlfriend mumbled while she tiredly moved her arm to punch the alarm clock

“Gracias” you huffed getting comfortable again and JUST as you closed your eyes again the ringing started again

That's when you realized it wasn't the alarm... it was the doorbell

“Alexia...” you whispered

“Hm?” your girlfriend pulled you tighter into her her nose brushing against your neck

“There's someone at the door” you whispered again not knowing WHY you whispered

“Mi amor... just a dream” Alexia mumbled against your shoulder blade

“No I'm serious” you now said loudly “.. go look”

“Why me?” your girlfriend now groaned finally giving up on her sleep

“You can run faster if it's a robber or murderer” you said seriously

“Mi amor... mi vida... mi sol” Alexia rolled her eyes “... no robber uses a doorbell”

“Maybe he's a polite robber” you looked at her confused

“Of course he is” your girlfriend mumbled as the doorbell rang again

“Well... go open it” you pushed your girlfriend towards the side of the bed to get up

“I'm a two times Ballon D’or winner” Alexia said bewildered

“And I'm carrying your child... what's more importante La Reina??” you asked and Alexia knew there was only one correct answer so she groaned but got out of bed swearing under her breath

“If you are a polite robber... take everything what you can carry but let me get back to bed...” Alexia ripped open the door to immediately turning around again to get back into the cosy warmth of her bed

“I'm not interested in your stuff...” your girlfriend whipped her head around so fast she nearly fell over “... I'm interested in seeing my best friend”

“You have some nerve standing at my door in the middle of the night two days after you said NOTHING” Alexia sneered as she chased towards Jenni

“I...” your best friend started when Alexia stood in front of her poking into her chest

“No... you listen and you listen good...” Alexia grumbled “... you made her cry... you made her sad... you made her feel like you left her... she told me you were her everything – the only person she wanted around our child... and you fuck up saying NOTHING and just disappearing not answering any calls or texts? She cried into your Jersey Jenni and I'm not allowed to wash it because then it “doesn't smell like Jenni anymore”... “

“I booked the first flight over... it was with a ton of layovers... I got to the airport as fast as I could and left everything at home.... I just got through because people can google me – I don't even have one Pesos on me....” Jenni said taking whatever Alexia threw at her “... I love her Ale... not like you do... I would give my life for her... I want to hug her when she tells me she's pregnant... I want to cry with her together... I want to BE THERE when she tells me”

“I'm pregnant... I'm pregnant and you're the only person I wanted to tell from the day I had a weird feeling... but you were in Mexico and the Doc said to wait until the end of the first Trimester since that's the most difficult time... we said my knee was acting up that's why I was on the Bench for the last games...” you suddenly spoke from behind Alexia after you came out of the bedroom looking for your girlfriend – kinda expecting her to be already murdered but you heard what Alexia said to Jenni and what Jennis answer was “... I wanted to tell you so bad but they banned me from flying since my bloodwhatever is kinda on the low end so Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes... I am pregnant”

You were crying when you spoke the last words and so was your best friend who just pushed Alexia out of the way to engulf you in the tightest hug. Jenni kissed your hair over and over again as you both were crying into each others bodies.

“I'm... gonna make some tea” your girlfriend grumbled but silently was so relieved that everything turned out how she hoped

“And some patatas bravas” you mumbled shyly looking at Alexia innocently “... not for me... your baby...”

“Mhm...” Alexia rolled her eyes playfully

“While your at it Putellas...” Jenni perked up but Alexia just threw her the legendary la reina glare

“Your girlfriend hates me” she heard Jenni say to you making you laugh

“You can share Patatas with your godchild” you laughed making Alexia smile to herself while she started to cut up the potatoes

“So... names... can't call it it all the time” your best friend said as she threw the door shut with her foot

likes by Mapí.Leon, Ingrid_engen and others

alexia.putellas Benvinguts a les nostres vides Valentina Jennifer Putellas Segura

Cata.Coll ~ strong grip... she's going to be a Keeper ♥️

alexia.putellas ~ recupera això!!!

Mapí.Leon ~ @pinata you owe me 100€.. i told you she's going to get Ales weird feet

Pinata ~ she can still outgrow them!!

Mapí.Leon ~ not with these genes 🤣

Ingrid_engen ~ i know who's going to apologize to Alexia and y/n for this very rude comment

Mapí.Leon ~ lo siento Alexia 😔

Ingrid_engen ~ and?

Mapí.Leon ~ and she's very beautiful

JenniHermoso ~ most beautiful girl in the world ♥️

y/n ~ keep it in your pants ... she's too young to be corrupted by you already

#alexia putellas x reader #woso image

291 notes · View notes

amateurvoltaire · 1 day ago

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Exhibition 1793-1794 at the Carnavalet Museum (Part I)

For anyone interested in the French Revolution, a visit to the Carnavalet Museum is essential. Though the museum covers the history of Paris from its very beginnings to the present, it’s also home to the world’s largest collection of revolutionary artefacts. Which makes sense, given that Paris was the epicentre of it all.

Frankly, if you plan to explore it all, you’ll want to set aside a good 3–4 hours. For those focused solely on the French Revolution, head straight to the second floor, where you can get through the collection in under an hour. Best of all, the permanent collection is free, making it a brilliant way to spend an afternoon in the city on a budget.

Currently, though, there’s a special treat on offer. Running from 16 October 2024 to 16 February 2025, the museum is hosting an exhibition dedicated to my favourite (and arguably the most chaotic) year of the revolution: Year II (1).

Now, since the family and I were in Reims for a long weekend, I somehow managed (possibly after too much Champagne) to convince my husband to drive 150 kilometres to Paris just so I could see Robespierre’s unfinished signature. It helped that the kids were on board, too. Yes, the four-year-old fully recognises Robespierre by portrait. The one-year-old is, predictably, indifferent.

So, slightly worse for wear after a ridiculous amount of Champagne tastings, off we went to the museum.

1. Why Year II?

Because it was a catastrophe. No. Really. Let me explain, in a very overly-simplified summary:

In Year II, France was plunged into an unparalleled storm of internal and external crises that would define the Revolution’s most radical year and ultimately mark its turning point.

Internally, the government was riven by factional divides, economic collapse, and civil war. The Jacobins (2) took control of the Convention, sidelining the federalist Girondins (3), aligning themselves with the sans-culottes (4), and arguing that only extreme measures could preserve the Revolution. Meanwhile, the more radical Enragés (5) demanded harsh economic policies to shield the poor from spiralling inflation and food shortages. The Convention introduced the Maximum Général (6) to placate them, which capped essential prices; however, enforcement was haphazard, fuelling discontent across the country. At the same time, the Indulgents (7) called for a reduction in violence and a return to clemency.

Externally, France’s situation was equally dire, encircled by the First Coalition—a formidable alliance of Britain, Austria, Prussia, Spain, and the Dutch Republic, all intent on crushing the Revolution before it spread further. With the execution of Louis XVI, France found itself diplomatically isolated, and the army was, frankly, a shambles. Most officers were either nobles or incompetent (8), and the soldiers were inadequately trained and equipped. In a desperate bid to defend the Republic, the Convention issued the Levée en Masse (9) in August 1793, sparking revolts in many cities and outright civil war in the West.

Confronted with this barrage of existential threats, the Convention dialled up its response in spectacular fashion, unleashing what we now know as the Terror—a period of sweeping repression backed by some rather questionable legislation. As you can likely guess from the name alone, this was a brilliant idea…

Put simply: by the end of Year II, nearly all the key figures who had spearheaded the Revolution up to that point were dead. And no, they didn’t slip away peacefully in their sleep from some ordinary epidemic. They met their end at the guillotine.

In short, Year II wasn’t just the Revolution's most radical and defining phase—it was also the year the Revolution itself died. Yes, the Revolution, in its truest, purest, most uncompromising form, met its end the moment the guillotine's blade struck Robespierre’s neck.

2. Overview of the exhibition

The visit opens with the destruction of the 1791 Constitution and closes with Liberty, an allegorical figure of the Republic depicted as a woman holding the Declaration of the Rights of Man in her right hand. In between, the experience is structured around five main themes:

A New Regime: The Republic

Paris: Revolution in Daily Life

Justice: From Ordinary to Exceptional

Prisons and Execution Sites

Beyond Legends

More than 250 artefacts are featured, including paintings, sculptures, decorative arts, historical items, wallpapers, posters, and furniture. The layout is carefully structured around these themes, with a distinct use of colour to set the tone: the first three sections have a neutral palette, while the final two glow in vivid red, creating a very nice change in atmosphere.

What I appreciated most was how the descriptions handle the messy legacy of Year II. The texts actually admit that, while some Parisians saw this year as a bold step towards equality and utopia, for others it was an absolute nightmare. This balance is refreshing, even if things are a bit simplified (because how could they not be?), and it gives a well-rounded view of a wildly complicated time.

In this first part, I'll focus on the first two sections, as the latter three fit together neatly and deserve a deep dive of their own. Besides, there's so much to unpack that I'll likely exceed Tumblr's word limit (and the patience of anyone reading this).

3. A New Regime: The Republic

The first section covers the shift from the Ancien Régime to the First Republic, and, fittingly, it starts with a smashed relic of the old order: the Constitution of 1791. After the monarchy’s fall and the republic’s proclamation in September 1792, the old constitution was meaningless. Though it technically remained in force for a few months, it was replaced by the Constitution of Year I in 1793, marking the end of France’s brief experiment with a constitutional monarchy. In May 1793, the old document was ceremonially obliterated with the “national sledgehammer”—a bit dramatic, perhaps, but Year II was nothing if not dramatic.

This section zeroes in on the governance of the new republic, featuring the Constitution of Year I, portraits of convention members, objects from the Committee of Public Safety and the National Convention (including a folder for Robespierre’s correspondence), and national holiday memorabilia. There’s even a nice nod to Hérault de Séchelles (10) as a principal author of the republican constitution.

3.1 Martyrdom as a political tool

Interestingly, the exhibition places a heavy emphasis on the concept of martyrdom. A significant portion of this first area is dedicated to the Death of Marat (11) and, to a lesser extent, the assassination of Le Peletier (12). It’s a clever angle since martyrs—whether well-known figures or nameless soldiers—have always been handy for rallying public opinion. The revolutionary government of Year II understood this all too well and wielded the concept to its full advantage.

In this spirit, the middle of this section features a reproduction of David’s Death of Marat, several drawings from Marat’s funeral, Marat’s mortuary mask, a supposed piece of his jaw, and more. Notably absent are any issues of L’Ami du Peuple, as though the display suggests Marat’s death was more impactful to the Republic’s narrative than his actual writings. I’d agree with that—the moment he died, he was elevated to a mythic status, and his legacy as a martyr of Year II took on a life of its own.

4. Paris: Revolution in Daily Life

While the first section focuses on the workings of governance, this part delves into Year II’s impact on ordinary Parisians. This period stands out for two reasons: France was in economic and political turmoil (wars, both internal and external, aren’t exactly budget-friendly), yet it also managed to introduce some remarkably forward-thinking legislation aimed at improving the lives of the common people.

4.1 The Paris Commune & Paranoia

To understand life in Paris during Year II, we can’t overlook the role of the Paris Commune (13). Rooted in the revolutionary spirit of the Estates General of 1789 and officially formalised by the law of 19 October 1792, the Commune was the governing body responsible for Paris. Divided into forty-eight sections, each with its own assembly, it gave citizens a strong voice in electing representatives and local officials. Led by a mayor, a general council, and a municipal body, the Commune handled essential civic matters like public works, subsistence, and policing.

From 2 June 1793 to 27 July 1794 (the height of Year II), the Commune implemented the policies of the Montagnard (14) Convention, which aimed to build a social structure grounded in the natural rights of man and citizen, reaffirmed on 24 June 1793. This social programme sought to guarantee basic rights such as subsistence (covering food, lighting, heating, clothing, and shelter), work (including access to tools, raw materials, and goods), assistance (support for children, the elderly, and the sick; rights to housing and healthcare), and education (fostering knowledge and preserving arts and sciences).

All this unfolded in an atmosphere thick with paranoia and intense policing; enemies were believed to lurk everywhere. The display does a solid job of capturing this side of the Paris Commune, featuring various illustrations that urged people to conform to new revolutionary norms—wear the cockade, play your part in the social order, fight for and celebrate the motherland, and so on.

One of my favourite pieces was the record of cartes de sûreté (safety cards) from one of the 48 Parisian sections. Made compulsory for Parisians in April 1793, these cards were meant to confirm that their holders weren’t considered “suspects” in a climate thick with paranoia. This small, seemingly random document—issued or revoked at the discretion of an equally random Revolutionary Committee—had the power to decide a person’s freedom or the lack of it.

At the risk of sounding sentimental, in the study of history, we often focus on broad events and overlook the "little guy" who lived through them. But here, this record reminds us that behind each document was, in fact, a real person. And that this very real person was trying to make their way through a reality that, 230 years ago, must have felt stifling and, at times, terrifying.

4.2 Education

A significant spotlight is rightly placed on education in this exhibition section, given the sweeping changes it underwent during the Revolution.

Before 1789, Paris was well-supplied with educational institutions. Eleven historic colleges and a semi-subsidised university offered prestigious studies in theology, law, medicine, and the arts, drawing students from across France. Inspired by Enlightenment ideals, boarding schools and specialised courses in subjects like science and mathematics had sprung up, mainly catering to the middle class, while working-class children attended charity schools. Private adult education also provided technical and scientific training. The catch? Most of these were church-operated.

Revolutionary policies targeting the Church caused a mass departure of teachers, financial difficulties, and restrictions on hiring unsalaried educators. Military demands, economic turmoil, and protests added to the strain on schools. Even the Sorbonne (15) was shut down in 1792, and by late 1793, nearly all Parisian colleges were closed except for Louis-le-Grand (16), which was renamed École Égalité. With the teacher shortage and soaring inflation, a handful of institutions struggled on.

This left the Convention and the Paris Commune scrambling to find new ways to educate the young, and they rose (or at least attempted to rise) to the occasion. On 19 December 1793, the Bouquier Decree aimed to establish free, secular, and mandatory primary education—a remarkable move, though it never fully materialised due to lack of funding.

With France at war, the Convention turned public education towards the needs of a nation in crisis. Throughout 1793 and 1794, new scientific and technical programmes sprang up to meet urgent demands, combat food shortages, and push social progress. Thousands of students were trained in saltpetre refinement (vital for gunpowder), and scientific knowledge spread beyond chemists to artisans and tin workers. In the final months of Year II, a saltpetre refinement zone was set up, the École de Mars was founded to rapidly train young men in military techniques, and the École Centrale des Travaux Publics (future École Polytechnique) was established to develop engineers in military-technical fields.

The education display features a fascinating array of educational degrees, lists of primary school students, and instructor rosters. Although a bit more context on the educational upheaval would have been helpful, the artefacts themselves are intriguing. Placed in the context of the rest of the exhibit, it’s clear that the new educational system wasn’t just about breaking away from the Ancien Régime; it was also very deliberately and openly crafted to instil republican ideals. Nothing illustrates this better than the way Joseph Barra(17) was promoted as a model for students at the École de Mars.

And, of course, this section also showcases one of the most enduring legacies of the Revolution: the introduction of the metric system and modern standardised measurements.

4.3 The (lack of) Women in Year II

The women of Year II were not real women. They were symbols—or so the imagery from the era would have us believe. There is shockingly little about the actual experiences of women in the collective memory of Year II.

Women played active roles in the Revolution. They filled the Assembly’s tribunes as spectators, mobilised in the sections, founded clubs, joined public debates, signed petitions, and even participated in mixed societies. In many cases, they worked side by side with men to bring about the Republic of Year II. So where are they?

Well, they’re certainly not prominent in this exhibition—but that’s not the fault of the organisers. It’s a reflection of how the time chose to represent them. In revolutionary imagery, women became allegories: symbols of Liberty, wisdom, the Republic, or the ideal mother raising citizens for the state, often reduced to stereotypes and caricatures. Rarely were they depicted as part of the public sphere.

The absence of a serious discourse on women’s rights in this part of the exhibition speaks volumes and is true to the period itself. At the time, there was no cohesive movement for women’s rights, and while specific individuals pushed for aspects of female citizenship, these efforts lacked unity or a common cause. Eventually, being perceived as too radical, all women's clubs were closed in 1973.

4.4 Dechristianisation

In my view, dechristianisation was perhaps the greatest misstep of the various governments from 1789 onwards. Not because I think religion should be central to people’s lives—not at all—but because, in 18th-century France, it simply was essential for most. The reasoning behind this attack on religion was sound enough: no government wants to be beholden to a pope in Rome who had heavily supported the deposed king. But in practice, the application of this principle was far from effective.

By Year II, Parisian authorities were still grappling with the fallout from the Civil Constitution of the Clergy (1790), which had left Catholics split between two competing churches: the constitutional church, loyal to the Revolution, and the refractory church, loyal to Rome. Patriotic priests suspected refractory priests of using their influence to fuel counter-revolutionary sentiment—a suspicion that only intensified the general atmosphere of paranoia.

As tension mounted, it devolved, as these things often do, into outright destruction. On 23 October 1793, the Commune of Paris ordered the removal of all monuments that "encouraged religious superstitions or reminded the public of past kings." Religious statues were removed, replaced by images of revolutionary martyrs like Le Peletier, Marat, and Chalier (19), in an effort to supplant the cult of saints with the cult of republican heroes.

The exhibition presents this wave of destruction with artefacts from ruined religious statues, the most striking being the head of one of the Kings of Judah from Notre-Dame’s facade. These 28 statues were dragged down and mutilated in a frenzy against royalist symbols in 1793. . Ironically, they weren’t even French kings; they were Old Testament kings, supposedly ancestors of Christ—a fact that most people at the time were probably blissfully unaware of. But hey, destruction in the name of ignorance is nothing new, is it?

Many in the Convention and the Commune were atheists and enthusiastically supported the secularisation of public life. Unfortunately, they didn’t represent the majority of the French population. To bridge this gap, Robespierre proposed a "moral religion" without clergy, a way for citizens to unite and celebrate a shared, secularised liberty. In December 1793, the Convention passed a decree granting "unlimited liberty of worship," leading to the Festival of the Supreme Being, held in Paris and throughout France on 8 June 1794.

As with so much in Year II, the "Supreme Being" affair was a logical solution to a pressing problem that ended up blowing up in Robespierre’s face—by now, you might detect a pattern. But that’s a story for Part II of this already very long post.

5. Conclusion to Part 1

Overall, the exhibition presents the first two themes—A New Regime: The Republic and Paris: Revolution in Daily Life—in a balanced way, which I really appreciate. I was expecting a bit more sensationalism, given that Year II is known for its brutality, but instead, it provides a thoughtful overview of how the Republic was structured and the impact this had on Parisians.

The range of media and text offers a good dive into key points, especially on everyday life during the period. I didn’t listen to everything, but from what I saw, the explanations were well done. Naturally, since the exhibition is aimed at the general public, many aspects are simplified.

For younger audiences (pre-teens, perhaps?), the exhibit includes 11 watercolour illustrations by Florent Grouazel and Younn Locard. These two artists attempt to fill the gaps by depicting events from the period that lack contemporary representation (like the destruction of the Constitution with the “national sledgehammer” on 5 May 1793—an event documented but unillustrated at the time). For each scene, they created a young character as an actor or observer, sometimes just a witness to history, to make the scene more immersive. It’s a nice touch, though easy to overlook if you’re not paying close attention.

In Part II, I’ll share my thoughts on the remaining themes: Justice, Prisons and Execution Sites, and Beyond Legends. And yes, a lot of that will involve Thermidor—how could it not?

In the meantime, if you made it this far… well, I’m impressed!

Notes

(1) Year II: Refers to the period from 22 September 1793 to 21 September 1794 in the French Revolutionary calendar.

(2) Jacobins: A political group advocating social reform and, by 1793, strongly promoting Republican ideals. Most revolutionaries were, or had once been, members of the Jacobin club, though by Year II, Robespierre stood out as its most prominent figure.

(3) Girondins: A conservative faction within the National Convention, representing provincial interests and, to some extent, supporting constitutional monarchy. Key figures included Brissot and Roland.

(4) Sans-culottes: Working-class Parisians who championed radical changes and economic reforms to support the poor. The name “sans-culottes” (meaning "without knee breeches") symbolised their rejection of aristocratic dress in favour of working-class trousers.

(5) Enragés: An ultra-radical group demanding strict economic controls, such as price caps on essentials, to benefit the poor. Led by figures like Jacques Roux and, to some extent, Jacques Hébert, the Enragés urged the Convention to fully break from the Ancien Régime.

(6) Maximum Général: A 1793 law imposing price caps on essential goods to curb inflation and aid the poor. Though well-intended, it was difficult to enforce and stirred resentment among merchants.

(7) Indulgents: A faction led by Danton and Desmoulins advocating a relaxation of the severe repressive measures introduced in Year II, calling instead for clemency and a return to more moderate governance.

(8) Incompetence: At the Revolution’s outset, military positions were primarily held by nobles. By Year II, these noble officers were often dismissed due to mistrust, and their replacements—particularly in the civil conflict in the West—were frequently inexperienced, and some, quite frankly, incompetent.

(9) Levée en Masse: A mass conscription decree of 1793 requiring all able-bodied, unmarried men aged 18 to 25 to enlist. This unprecedented mobilisation extended to the wider population, with men of other ages filling support roles, women making uniforms and tending to the wounded, and children gathering supplies.

(10) Hérault de Séchelles: A lawyer, politician, and member of the Committee of Public Safety during Year II, known primarily for helping to draft the Constitution of 1793.

(11) Jean-Paul Marat: A radical journalist and politician, fiercely supportive of the sans-culottes and advocating revolutionary violence in his publication L’Ami du Peuple. Assassinated in 1793, he became the Revolution’s most famous martyr.

(12) Louis-Michel Le Peletier de Saint-Fargeau: A politician and revolutionary who voted in favour of the king’s execution and was assassinated in 1793 shortly after casting his vote, becoming a symbol of revolutionary sacrifice.

(13) Paris Commune: Not to be confused with the better-known Paris Commune of 1871, this Commune was the governing body of Paris during the Revolution, responsible for administering the city and playing a key role in revolutionary events.

(14) Montagnard Convention: The left-wing faction of the National Convention, dominated by Jacobins, which held power during the Revolution’s most radical phase and implemented the Reign of Terror.

(15) Sorbonne: Founded in the 13th century by Robert de Sorbon as a theological college, the Sorbonne evolved into one of Europe’s most respected centres for higher learning, particularly known for theology, philosophy, and the liberal arts. It was closed during the Revolution due to anti-clerical reforms.

(16) Louis-Le-Grand: A prestigious secondary school in Paris, temporarily renamed École Égalité during the Revolution. Notable alumni include Maximilien Robespierre and Camille Desmoulins.

(17) Joseph Barra: A young soldier killed in 1793 during the War in the Vendée, whose death was used as revolutionary propaganda to inspire loyalty and martyrdom among French youth.

(18) Civil Constitution of the Clergy: A 1790 law that brought the Catholic Church in France under state control, requiring clergy to swear allegiance to the government. This split Catholics between “constitutional” and “refractory” priests, heightening religious tensions.

(19) Joseph Chalier: A revolutionary leader in Lyon who supported radical policies. He was executed in 1793 after attempting to enforce these policies, later becoming a martyr for the revolutionary cause.

#history #frev #french revolution #paris #marat #carnavalet #museum #robespierre #saint just #amateurvoltaire’s travel diary

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quailfence · 1 day ago

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[Image description taken from alt: Image 1: Irene looks aside, holding her cup of tea. She says to Aronnax, “(brackets) Is it so late already? Oh, how the time flies! Thank you so much, both of you, but I’m afraid I must go, or I will miss the ferry back to England!” Image 2: Conseil, also holding a cup of tea, tilts his head at her and says, “(brackets) It is still early, and there are more ferries through the day; won’t you finish your tea?” Irene responds, “(brackets) I am sorry, I have some errands yet to run while I am in Paris.” Image 3: Aronnax escorts her to the door, where Irene takes up her bag. Conseil has moved to hold the door open; there is notably space enough for a person to sneak by. Aronnax says, “(brackets) Of course, madame. It was a pleasure to have you visit. Should you come by Paris again, do bring your charming husband!” Image 4: A shot of Irene inside a cab, pulling the door closed, hand clutched over the bag with the journal. Irene, glaring at Griffin, says in a sharp whisper, “You weren’t supposed to take (italics) it!” Image 5: A different angle of the interior of the cab, which shows Griffin trying to wrap himself up in a dressing gown. He says, “I couldn’t read it—I didn’t know it would be in French! (italics)” Image 6: Irene takes a shawl out of her bag, offering it to Griffin as he reaches for it. Irene says, “I told you he only spoke French.” Griffin responds, “But you didn’t say his diary— (italics)” Image 7: Irene gives Griffin an incredulous look. “His diary would be even more (italics) likely to be in French! Why suggest the idea if you couldn’t read the language?” Image 8: Griffin hunches in his seat, now bundled in the dressing gown and shawl. He says, “…I didn't think that far ahead.” End description.]

First page || Previous page || Next page

Start reading Episode 1

Dialogue transcripts:

Panel 1

Irene: <Is it so late already? Oh, how the time flies! Thank you so much, both of you, but I’m afraid I must go, or I will miss the ferry back to England!>

Panel 2

Conseil: <“It is still early, and there are more ferries through the day; won’t you finish your tea?>

Irene: <I am sorry, I have some errands yet to run while I am in Paris.>

Panel 3

Aronnax: <Of course, madame. It was a pleasure to have you visit. Should you come by Paris again, do bring your charming husband!>

Panel 4

Irene: You weren’t supposed to take it!

Panel 5

Griffin: I couldn’t read it—I didn’t know it would be in French!

Panel 6

Irene: I told you he only spoke French.

Griffin: But you didn’t say his diary—

Panel 7

Irene: His diary would be even more likely to be in French! Why suggest the idea if you couldn’t read the language?

Panel 8

Griffin: …I didn't think that far ahead.

#league of extraordinary gentlefolk #irene norton #conseil #pierre aronnax #ashley griffin #described

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loveandleases · 16 hours ago

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How would the ROs react if the MC gives them a nickname in their native language? for example, a Brazilian MC calling them "meu amor" which means "my love", a french MC calling them "Mon amour" etc..^^

Below nonie ~

❤️ Cam—He would love it regardless of what MC was calling him. They could call him an idiot in their native language, and Cam would think it's great. He would want to learn some of it to use on MC.

💙 G - Depends on past relationship. If MC makes a slip-up before things are mended, G will google what MC calls them. Then it's a matter of how well they mask their emotions in the moment.

💚 Kara - Thinks it's adorable, and will do the same to MC. She was lucky enough to learn a couple of languages while in school, so she will try her best to use one on MC.

💛M - Thinks it's attractive. M will get caught up in the tone of MC's voice and want to try to describe why they enjoy it.

💜 Isaac - Dependent on the stage of the stage of the relationship. Early on they'll play it off like it doesn't affect them. But the farther they get into liking MC, the more they will think it's very sweet and also be a bit envious that MC can call them something in another language.

🖤 Ardent—He will tease MC about it and also give MC a few nicknames in their native language. However, he will also use more adult nicknames for MC and use them when out and about just to mess with MC.

#love and leases #loveandleases #queued #cam #ardent #isaac #kara #m #g

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frangipani-wanderlust · 1 day ago

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At the time, I didn't place this necklace for what it was, I was just going off vibes, which reminded me of pictures like this.

See all the ribbons where the jewels and chains are tied on? So I was assuming this was meant to be worn similarly and part of some country's royal regalia, but I couldn't figure out whose.

I looked through some of the notes and found enough information to piece together that it is the necklace from this:

Now, aside from this being a Terrible Scandal in France back in the day, it took some digging for me to figure out just what the hell actually happened to the necklace in question. Which is that it was stolen and deconstructed. The pictures are of recreations and the necklace itself is gone for good.

Beyond figuring out what happened to the necklace, I have invested no effort whatsoever because something about French history produces a very strong negative reaction in me. I have no idea why, but my brain refuses to absorb anything French that isn't Amaury Guichon videos.

Hey! Let’s settle this. Look at this necklace!

#tumblr polls #the affair of the diamond necklace #it was definitely a joke poll #you were right to be suspicious

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darkmagyk · 2 days ago

Note

percabeth baby fic/teacher au!

“Constantinople.” Jason said. Ms. Dare nodded, meaning Jason had gotten the question right. He glanced at Dr. Chase to see if she had noticed, if she would give the little nod of approval that all guys on the Jupiter School quiz bowl team craved.

But Dr. Chase wasn’t even looking at them. She and Mr. Jackson, the Juno’s Academy coach, were talking in a low voice, Mr. Jackson showing Dr. Chase something on her phone that was making her frown.

“The 2015 hit movie King of Sparta features this Hollywood leading man?” Mr. Pace asked.

Jason knew this one, he had seen all 4 King of Sparta movies…

Piper, the cutest of the Juno girls, rang in first, and hung her head even as she said “Tristan McLean.”

“Correct.” Ms. Dare said. She glanced down at her tablet to look at the next question, but she was stopped because Mr. Jackson had walked back over to their quiz bowl scrimmage, and put a hand on her shoulder. He leaned down and whispered something to both Ms. Dare and Mr. Pace. Who both nodded.

“I’ll be back,” He said, mostly addressing his Juno students. “I have to go run an errand really quickly.”

Then he left. But it meant Dr. Chase could redirect her attention to the team.

Mr. Jackson was not back through another 2 rounds. But Jason got the coveted Dr. Chase nod 3 times for answering the math questions correctly.

They were nearly tied up, though Jason had just face palmed when Connor had answered “What city was helped by the French, Spanish, and French again before being sold to the United States?” with “Montreal.” Much to Frank and Hazel, who got the answer “New Orleans” correct, chagrin, when Mr. Jackson came back. He was not alone.

In one hand he held a baby carrier were a sleeping infant in a blue onesie and blue beanie, wrapped in a blue knit blanket was laying. On the other side, a slightly older child, but still probably a toddler, was resting on his hip. And trailing after him was a slightly older girl, maybe 4 or 5.

“Sorry, everyone,” He said, “babysitter had an emergency.”

“Isn’t your babysitter Fred?” Mr. Pace asked.

Mr. Jackson nodded.

“What kind of emergency do history professors have?” Ms. Dare asked.

Mr. Jackson shrugged, “Well, everyone,” He nodded to the teams, “this is Junie,”

The oldest girl waved, but then ran to Ms. Dare, giving her a hug. Which might have confirmed the rumor he had heard from Reyna and Hazel, that Mr. Jackson and Ms. Dare were a couple, if not for the fact that Junie then immediately also hugged Mr. Pace.

“Lucie,” Mr. Jackson said. Setting the very very blonde toddler down on the floor. She stood on a second of slightly unsteady legs, before she found her balance and waved with a wide grin, adding “Hi.”

“And hopefully Sofie will stay asleep.” He slung a bag, a diaper bag Jason guessed, off his shoulder, and started opening it, digging out some duplo blocks and a coloring book and some crayons. With a little bit of effort, and Dr. Chase’s help, the older girls were set up in two of the desks, with the toys, and then they refocused on the practice.

“What three Roman gods made up the Capitoline Triad?”

Oh, good, Jason knew this one. He hit his buzzer.

“Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva.” Everyone looked over where the oldest girl. Junie, was grinning at them, having answered the question.

“Sweetie,” Mr. Jackson said, “this is practice for the big kids. Why don’t you finish coloring a picture for my desk.”

Jason glanced to the back corner of the room where Mr. Jackson’s desk was, and now he could see what looked like a dozen children’s drawing and coloring pages.

“But I’m right,” She said.

“You are,” Ms. Dare agreed, not hiding her smile at all.

“Let’s keep going,” Dr. Chase said.

And then Mr. Pace asked his next question.

“Falling on December 20th or 21st, what is the shortest day of the year?”

“Winter Solstice.”

“Junie,” Mr. Jackson said again, “if you answer all the questions, they students can’t learn.”

“Ok,” She said. Going back to her coloring.

Ms. Dare turned to the next question, “Finished in 1936, this public works project was one of many used to hire people during the great depression.”

Jason paused, he knew this one, it was on the tip of his tongue. Leo’s buzzer beat him to it.

“Hoover Dam.” Mr. Jackson’s daughter said.

“Annabeth Jackson,” And that was Dr. Chase, who Jason knew’s first name was Annabeth. It was an unusual name. Had Mr. Jackson named his daughter after Dr. Chase? “It’s ok to know you’re smart. You don’t have to prove it.”

“Like mother, like daughter.” Ms. Dare joked. Mr. Pace laughed, Dr. Chase shot her a glare.

“Next question.” Mr. Jackson offered.

“Right, yeah,” Mr. Pace read the next question, “What name could you give to an Empire that lasted from 1299 to 1919, or to a small piece of upholstered furniture.”

Oh, that one was easy, too.

“Otto Min.” It wasn’t Junie Jackson who spoke this time. It was the younger one. Lucie. She waved when she saw everyone was looking at her.

Dr. Chase sighed, but Ms. Dare and Mr. Pace broke into a giant about of laughter.

“It’s ok,” Mr. Jackson said, patting Dr. Chase on the shoulder. “She’s just jealous they’ll be on my team when they get older.”

“We’ll win, Daddy,” Junie announced.

“Absolutely,” Mr. Jackson said.

“Did you marry me just to create the ultimate quiz bowl champions?” Dr. Chase asked Mr. Jackson.

“Yep,” Mr. Jackson said.

“I knew it.” Piper announced. She turned to her team, “you all owe me $20.”

#percy jackson #percabeth #percabeth fic #annabeth chase #pjo #my fic #asks

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anna-hawk · 2 days ago

Text

Pardon my French

Michael “Mikey” Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You should never assume that the person you're talking about in another language doesn't happen to speak that same language. Rating: T | WC: 5.8k CW: none except my sense of humor, French-speaking reader, French, crack, fluff, meet-cute

Read it on AO3

The happiest of birthdays to my favorite person on here, @darlingshane. Amaya, I don't even know what I could say that I haven't already said 100 times. All I will say is that I love you from the bottom of my heart and that having you as a close friend has been a wonderful experience these past 4 years 🧡🧡🧡

This time, as a gift, I decided to go for Mikey, considering how much you've grown to love him. Your fics for him are some of your best, with “Salt of the Earth”, so I thought I could do a little homage. I was reading through a list of prompts for meet-cutes last month and this really spoke to me. Your Spanish reader fics were extremely fun, which was what inspired me and made me decide to make this into your gift. While I obviously can't write a Spanish reader, I thought you would enjoy something with a French reader instead.

✨Have fun and again, happy birthday!✨

Taking a left at the next street corner, you quickly hurried across the road when you saw the green traffic light for pedestrians.

“You really suck, Caroline,” you grumbled into your phone, as the chill of November blasted a cold gust of wind into your face.

Your cousin laughed before sighing deeply. “I know… Trust me, this was not what I had in mind for today either.”

You sighed in turn as you glanced around for a place to head inside and warm up a bit. “How’s the fever?”

“It’s a bit lower. She’s sleeping for now.”

“Good,” you smiled at the relief in your cousin’s voice.

You had intended to spend the day together, but her daughter had come down with a nasty cold that had held both parents up for most of the night.

“What’s the plan now?” Caroline asked right as you entered the nearest shop to get out of the cold wind.

As soon as you were inside, you were met with the sound of shouting from the register as someone called out orders, while the delicious smell of homemade food hit your nose.

“Getting something to eat,” you replied distractedly while taking in your surroundings.

You hadn’t noticed what kind of establishment you’d entered, but since you hadn’t had breakfast that morning, and with the scents all around you, you figured that you could grab a bite.

“Oh, where?”

“Dunno.” You looked around until you saw a white sign with green lettering. “The Beef… some small place selling Italian beef, apparently… Smells really good,” you added, as you walked up towards the small line at the register.

“Yo, cuz, what’cha doin’ back there?” the man at the register bellowed to the back of the shop. “People fuckin’ waitin’ here. Get a fuckin’ move on.”

“Fuck you, Richie. You come back here if-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Will you calm the fuck down, yeah?” said another man, who was straightening from where he’d been looking for something under the counter next to the shouting one.

Your eyes instantly slid to that man, taking note of the thick, dark hair on top of his head, the sharp jaw and the broad shoulders stretching out the shirt.

“Ah, ben maintenant je sais pourquoi ça s’appelle The Beef, (Well, now I know why it's called The Beef),” you uttered into the phone, automatically switching to French to talk to your cousin, while giving the man a slow once over as you reached the front of the line.

She laughed heartily and made a curious sound. “Pourquoi? (Why?)”

“Hey, what can I get for you today, sweetheart?” asked the guy called Richie as he shot you a smile.

You unfortunately had to look away from the other man and smiled as you looked at the sandwich list.

“Hold on a sec,” you addressed Caroline. “Hey, hi… um… an Original would be good, thanks… and a soda, please.”

“Sure thing… want it to go or you stayin’?”

“Not going back into that wind for a while if possible,” you stated fervently, which had Richie chuckling, while the dark-haired man snorted and nodded his head as he finished another order.

“Right, that’ll be $8.50… Go have a seat. We’ll send someone out in a sec.”

Nodding and quickly paying while Richie bellowed your order towards the back, you made your way to the two-person table that had the best vantage point on the register.

“We’ll definitely have to come back here,” you stated to your cousin, as you sat down and removed your coat while you watched the dark-haired man smiling or shouting his way through the orders.

“I think I’ve actually heard of the place. The name sounds familiar anyway. Family run business, I think.”

“Sure looks like it. From the way they keep freaking yelling at each other, it probably is.”

“So… tell me more about this Mr. Beef,” she snickered.

Switching over to your earphones to make eating easier while talking to Caroline, you made a more detailed description of the man’s features.

A few minutes later, you sat up straight when you noticed him coming into your direction with your order. “He’s coming over, hold on.”

“Here you go, sweetheart,” he smiled, placing the sandwich and soda in front of you.

“Thank you,” you grinned, hearing him calling you sweetheart having a wholly different effect on you than when Richie had said it.

“Lemme know if you need anything else,” he requested, while pulling a rag out of his apron and walking backwards to the table next to yours.

“Thanks. I’m good for now.”

He nodded and turned around, which revealed his denim clad backside to you.

“Tu sais quoi? Je ne t’en veux même plus de ne pas être venue, (You know what? I'm not even mad you couldn't come anymore.),” you told your cousin, as your eyes fixed on the moving ass before you while the man cleaned the table-top.

She snorted at your tone. “Et qu’est-ce qui te fait dire ça? (And what’s making you say this?)”

“Et bien… Il est en train de nettoyer la table juste à côté de la mienne… Et je peux te dire qu’il a une belle paire de miches**. C’est sur elles que j’aimerais manger cet Italian beef. (Well… He's cleaning the table right next to mine… And let me tell you that he has a gorgeous ass. I'd rather eat that Italian beef on that.)”

She burst out laughing this time. “T’es pas possible. (You're the worst.) ”

You grinned at her laughter, while continuing to watch the man, who'd stopped for a second before resuming cleaning the table.

“Je les pétrirais volontiers celles-là. (I'd love to knead that.)”

“Toi et tes blagues de bouffe. (You and your food jokes),” she wheezed, and you could easily imagine her shaking her head.

You chuckled lightly and bit into your sandwich, which turned out to be delicious. You moaned your appreciation.

“We're so coming back here,” you said with enthusiasm and took another bite.

The man turned around and shot you an amused smirk, before walking up to your table and leaning slightly into your space.

“Et comme mes miches, tout est fait maison ici. (And like my ass, everything here's homemade.)”

Your mouth fell open and only reflexes kept the sandwich from slipping through your fingers as you stared at him in utter shock. He winked at you and began walking to the next room where other tables stood.

“Oublie ce que je viens de dire… Je dois quitter la ville, (Forget what I said… I need to leave town.),” you said feebly, while staring after him and hearing him laughing at your words.

“Hein? Pourquoi? Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? (Huh? Why? What happened?)”

“Caro…” you whispered, still in shock. “Il parle français. (Caro… He speaks French.)”

There was a second of silence, soon followed by your cousin's loud, screaming laughter coming through the earphones.

“Qu'est-ce qu'il a dit? (What did he say?)” she gasped out in between peels of laughter.

“Que, comme ses miches, tout est fait maison ici. (That, like his ass, everything here's homemade.),” you mumbled, while putting the sandwich down and hiding your face in your hands.

She laughed even more, cackling through wheezing breaths.

“I can't show my face here anymore,” you groaned, looking forlornly at your sandwich.

“Was he angry? From what he told you, he didn't seem to be.”

“No… he looked amused. But that's not the point… I talked about kneading that man's ass right in front of him,” you moaned and shook your head.

Caroline chuckled lightly. “At least you weren't badmouthing him.”

You only hummed and folded up the sandwich. There was no way that you could eat this now. About to bemoan going back into the wind to escape your embarrassment, you heard your niece’s tiny voice calling for her mother.

“Sorry, gotta go,” Caroline said hurriedly before speaking softly to her daughter.

“No problem. Give her a big hug from me.”

“Will do… Keep me posted on the hot stranger situation.”

You snorted. “There's no situation at all. I'm gonna slink out of here and never come back.”

Caroline laughed softly. “Whatever… talk later.”

“Yeah, later.”

You removed the earphones and placed them back into their case before checking your surroundings. How could you have been so stupid and run your mouth like that? Caroline was right, he didn’t look angry at all, but you’d rarely felt this embarrassed in your life. You quickly put everything into your bag and left a large tip on the table before getting up. As you put on your coat, you noticed the man standing in front of a wall as he checked the light fixture. Glad that he couldn’t see you, you were about to run out when something held you back. You bit over your bottom lip as you contemplated him and sighed deeply.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” you asked tentatively as you reached him.

His head turned to you in surprise, before a large smirk appeared on his handsome face as he moved his whole body toward you. Damn, he really did look incredibly good.

“What can I do for you?”

“Uh… well, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I hope I didn’t offend you or anything. I’m always the first one to tell people to be careful with speaking another language in front of others and not assume they don’t understand you, but here I was doing it anyway,” you said in a rush, glancing at him in between words while mostly avoiding direct eye contact.

“Eh, don't worry, it's not like you were talking shit about me so…” he trailed off with a light shrug, while his grin never left his face.

“Maybe, but still… I'm sorry.”

“Don't be…” He leaned in closer as he lowered his voice. “Ça ne me gêne pas. Surtout quand ça vient d'une aussi belle bouche que la tienne. (I don't mind. Especially when it comes from a pretty mouth like yours.)”

Your eyes widened, while you felt your whole face warming again when his gaze dropped to your parted lips. That’s not what you had expected him to say.

“Well,” you breathed, your eyes locking with his as he looked up again. “Good to know.”

You stood there, watching each other for a few seconds, before Richie’s voice boomed through the snack.

“Hey, Cuz, Fak’s on the line ‘bout the fridge.”

The man in front of you didn’t react except to briefly lift his eyes toward where the voice was coming from before looking at you again.

“Mikey!”

“For fuck’s sake. I heard you. Tell him I’ll call him back in a sec,” he called out irritably.

You laughed to yourself at his annoyance at being interrupted, which had his attention returning to you. Shaking his head with a small grin and a sigh, he put his hands in the pockets of the blue apron.

“You leaving already?” he asked after a beat, as he noticed that you had your coat on and your table was cleaned off.

You grinned inwardly at the word already, as if he was regretting seeing you leave sooner than he had expected.

“Yeah… think I’ll just head home for the day. No weather for nice walks outside.”

Mikey only hummed in agreement and looked down with a small crease between his brows.

“But I’ll be back,” you blurted out, which had him staring back at you with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm… best Italian sandwich I’ve had… Need to have another taste and all.”

“Glad to hear it,” he smiled, inclining his head to one side as he stared at you intently.

You suddenly didn’t feel like leaving at all anymore, but sitting back down would seem weird now, right? He was obviously flirting with you, much to your surprised delight, yet you didn’t feel like coming across as too eager either.

“‘Kay, then… I — uh — I’ll see you next time, I guess.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he smiled softly, while his gaze remained focused on you.

“Right… bye, Mikey,” you babbled, finally taking a step back just when you saw him grinning at you using his name.

“A la prochaine. (Until next time),” he replied, following you towards the front of the shop.

Your name came through your lips like a reflex, and you would have felt embarrassed about that too had Mikey not smiled at learning it. When he repeated the goodbyes with your name this time, you left with a wide smile and barely felt the wind across your skin as you headed home.

**The word ‘ miche’ stands for a loaf of bread, but it’s often used to refer to someone’s butt because, as you can guess, of its rounded form. Reader wants to "knead that dough".

After that day, you had returned as promised.

On the first time, they’d had a busy day, with the line far longer than the last time you’d been there. Mikey hadn’t been at the register, which had disappointed you, but you’d still ordered the same thing as last time. You hadn’t lied when you’d said that it was the best Italian beef you’d had. As you’d been about to walk to a free table, Mikey had come out of the kitchen with a large tray filled with orders. He’d stopped in his tracks as he noticed you and smiled brightly in recognition. Unfortunately, this had been the only interaction that day, since he’d had to return to the kitchen immediately.

On your third visit, Caroline insisted on coming along. She told you that she wanted to taste the infamous Italian beef that people raved about at her job, but you knew that it also was to get a look at Mikey. However, like last time, he wasn’t at the register. She looked at Richie and then back at you with a raised eyebrow, but you only rolled your eyes at her.

“Il a les yeux bleus, celui-là (This one has blue eyes.).”

“De très beaux yeux bleus (Very pretty blue eyes.),” she commented with a smile directed at Richie, as he asked for your order.

Caroline ordered a few different things to bring home a little later, while you went with the original as both other times. Richie yelled the order to the back as always, while he invited you to take a seat.

“Maybe he isn’t in,” Caroline said as she looked around herself.

You shrugged as you took a napkin and folded it in half. “Maybe.”

You wanted to sound nonchalant, but you seriously hoped that he’d be around.

A little while later, the kitchen door opened, with Mikey stepping through it while talking to the person behind him. With your direct view of the register, you noticed him immediately. At your sudden silence, Caroline turned to look as well, which had you hissing at her to not be so obvious.

“What? I’m just checking where my order is,” she waved her hand around at you, and you huffed.

Mikey was still talking while he lifted his eyes to stare around the shop distractedly, only to notice you and smile as he spoke. Your face heated, and you bit your bottom lip at the way he smiled at you. You saw him say something to Richie, who looked towards your table before pointing at an order.

“So?” You heard Caroline ask, but you were too busy watching as Mikey picked up the order and walked towards you.

“Hey,” he said with a grin. “So, these two for now” — he placed a sandwich in front of each of you along with your drinks. — “and this to-go, right?” He put a packed order in the center of the table.

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled.

“Alors c’est lui, pas vrai? (So, that’s him, right?)” Caroline asked while staring at him, which had you making wide eyes at her and groaning softly.

“Caro…”

Mikey looked at her with a lifted eyebrow, before glancing at you with a smirk.

“Oui, c’est moi (Yes, it’s me.),” he replied easily.

Caroline grinned and nodded her head. “Alors, tout est fait maison ici, c’est bien ça? (So, everything’s homemade here, correct?)”

“Oh my God,” you whispered, and kicked your cousin under the table.

Mikey laughed heartily and nodded. “Oui, absolument tout. (Yes, absolutely everything.)”

“Great. Good to know,” Caroline shrugged and sat back casually, like she was just a satisfied customer.

Mikey chuckled and looked back at you with a sly smile.

“Anything else I can get you guys?”

“Nope, we’re good, thank you,” you quickly replied before Caroline could jump in and embarrass you more.

Mikey nodded with another small laugh and walked off with a “Bon appétit. (Enjoy.)”

“I fucking hate you,” you hissed at your cousin, who had the gall to snort and roll her eyes.

“I had to see if the man can take a joke, and he does.” She took a bite from her sandwich and groaned in satisfaction as she chewed. “Besides, the man already knows you find him hot… Which, you were right about, he’s a good-looking dude… But, I’ll take the yelling, blue-eyed one,” she added matter-of-factly after taking another bite.

You snorted at her words. Caroline was married to one of the chillest men on this planet, and she loved the hell out of him. But she’d always had a thing for the loud ones. Except that it never worked out with them because of her fiery personality. She and her husband balanced each other out perfectly, though.

“Still, you didn’t have to remind him of what I said,” you grumbled, biting into your own sandwich. “I was more hoping he’d forget about it.”

Caroline snorted softly. “That first impression is gonna be unforgettable. But I really don’t think he minds that at all… The opposite, really.”

“Right…” You rolled your eyes and sipped from your drink this time. “He might have flirted with me last time, but it doesn’t mean anything. He was just being nice.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said, while swallowing another bite and glancing at you with a smirk. “The attraction clearly does go both ways with how he can’t stop looking at you.”

“What?” you asked in surprise and sat up straight in your chair.

“He’s talking to customers a few tables over, and he’s looked at you at least ten times already.”

You blinked at her at the revelation and ducked your head with a shrug.

“Maybe he’s just looking at our table in general.”

“Yeah, right. I could be dancing around naked that he wouldn’t even notice it.”

This had you uttering a loud laugh of amusement, which turned into a small, pleased smile as you took in her words.

“He’s coming back,” she whispered suddenly, having you jerking in your seat.

“Ça vous plait? (Do you like it?)” he asked Caroline, although he glanced at you.

“Aussi bon qu’on me l’avait dit. (As good as I was told.)” She nodded with a hum of approval.

“Content de l’entendre… Et toi? (Glad to hear it… What about you?)” he glanced your way with a lifted eyebrow.

“Délicieux (Delicious.),” you smiled, feeling your face warming as you saw your cousin watching the two of you with a smirk.

Mikey nodded with a pleased smile and was about to say something when Richie called for him. He sighed.

“Enjoy the rest of your meal,” he said and shot you a smile that was obviously only for you before he headed back.

You followed him with your eyes until he vanished in the kitchen, which had you noticing Caroline’s lifted eyebrow that clearly said ‘told you so’.

“Could be dancing naked,” she repeated meaningfully with a smirk.

Shaking your head at her with a small laugh, you went on eating the sandwich.

An hour later, you left The Beef, but Mikey never came back from the kitchen.

In the following weeks, The Beef became one of your regular places. It had everything to do with Mikey, obviously, however, as the weeks went on, you got into talking to the other people working there. The place was chaotic, with everyone running around and shouting obscenities at each other, but you quickly realized how deeply everyone cared about each other. Caroline, and even her husband, came along a couple more times. However, you mostly went by yourself. For the simple reason that Mikey would often come to your table and strike up a conversation whenever you went alone.

You seriously enjoyed talking to him. He could be as loud and all over the place as the rest of the Beef’s staff, and flirt with you in a very obvious way, while he could also give off this more introverted and thoughtful persona. It was during the later moments that you talked the most, with Mikey sometimes sitting down at your table and talking about the most mundane stuff. You shared stories about your jobs and families, which told you that he also had a younger brother along with the younger sister you’d seen a couple of times. Watching her interact with the loud men in the restaurant, looking so sweet and calm, only to see her biting back if needed, had been an incredibly funny moment.

Caroline was getting more and more frustrated with the two of you for not moving things along, though. However, you really didn’t care. Did you want there to be more? Yes, but you also genuinely enjoyed spending the time with Mikey the way that you currently were, despite how much you wanted to kiss him when he stared at you from under his eyebrows like he often did. Only time would tell, and you weren’t in any particular hurry.

“Hey, Basic Beef. How’s it goin’ today?” Richie hollered as soon as he saw you.

You chuckled at the nickname and walked up to him. Richie had taken to calling you that a few visits back after you’d been talking about your choice of order. He’d teased you about always taking the same thing and not being adventurous enough. To which you’d laughed and shrugged, telling him that you were okay with being a basic bitch. Richie had almost keeled over with laughter at your words, wheezing out the word Basic Beef. To no one’s surprise, Caroline had almost lost it after you’d told her the following day. These two got along far too well.

“Hey, Ducon. (Hey, Asshole),” you snorted and leaned against the counter.

He grinned and turned towards the list of sandwiches with a hum of faked curiosity.

“What will it be today?” he singsonged.

“You’re such a dick,” you laughed.

“Hey, Mikey,” Richie smirked, as he shouted to the back while maintaining eye contact with you. “Your girlfriend’s here.”

You groaned and shook your head, while you heard Mikey’s voice from the kitchen.

“Hope you ain’t being a dick about her order again.”

Richie grinned at you, which had you fighting down the warmth rushing into your face at the fact that Mikey knew exactly who Richie was talking about.

“Yes, he is,” you called out with a laugh to hide your embarrassment, knowing that the other customers could hear everything too.

“She insulted me in French,” Richie threw back with mock outrage.

“Serves you right,” Mikey said, stepping out of the kitchen with a wide grin directed at you. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

“Hey,” you smiled.

You saw Richie sighing and rolling his eyes at the two of you before moving towards the kitchen. “Guess I’ll be making that sandwich myself.”

“God, you’re such a fucking drama queen,” Mikey snorted, while you laughed at Richie’s theatrics. “Can’t I just say hi?”

“That’s not sayin’ hi, cuz, that’s undressin’ her with your eyes.”

You almost choked on your spit, while Mikey closed his eyes as if praying for patience and sighed. “Why do I even let you work here?”

“Cause this place would come crashin’ down without me, asshole.”

Mikey shoved him hard with a huff of a laugh and took a step back before looking at you and then back at Richie.

“I’ll have that order out in two,” he finally said after looking at you again.

“Uh, thanks,” you nodded, while Richie watched him with a raised eyebrow as Mikey made his way back to the kitchen.

Richie sighed again while you took out your wallet, and nodded at the customer who had just entered the place and was waiting behind you. Handing over the cash, your money was met by Richie waving it away.

“Go have a seat, Love. It’s on the house tonight,” he said with a much softer tone.

“Oh… Um, okay, thanks, Richie.”

“No problem,” he winked with a genuine smile. A smile that you returned easily.

One thing had to be said about Richie; he might be loud and obnoxious most of the time, he was also a nice guy who you actually really liked. Putting everything back into your bag, you made your way to your usual table.

As promised, Mikey was out with your order barely two minutes later.

“There you go.” He placed everything neatly in front of you.

“Thanks,” you smiled brightly, looking into his face.

Mikey nodded and looked back towards the register and the kitchen with a tiny frown.

“I — uh — I’m kinda stuck back there with preparing stuff for the weekend and-”

“Oh, uh, that’s okay. I know you can’t chat every time,” you cut in, nodding your head in understanding. You didn’t want him to feel bad about not coming out to talk if he was busy.

“Yeah, no, I know, but I was kinda thinking…” he trailed off and looked down for a beat, sucking on his bottom lip. “Will you stay after we close?” he finally asked, looking at you from under his lashes.

You blinked a couple of times at the unexpected question. “Oh… um, yeah, sure. Of course.”

“Yeah?” he smiled softly. “It’s gonna be” — he looked around the place — “another hour at least, though.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting. I can go pester Richie if I get too bored.”

Mikey barked out a laugh at that and nodded his head a few times.

“‘Kay… See you later.”

You smiled in acknowledgment and watched him walk back, stopping next to Richie, whose eyes shot to you after a moment, but you quickly averted your gaze. Picking up your sandwich, you took a bite to stop yourself from looking up again. Your face felt warm as you thought about Mikey’s request to stay. That had never happened, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what was going to happen. In any case, you could only imagine Richie grinning like a lunatic at Mikey informing him that you’d be staying. To distract yourself, you pulled out your phone and went through your various social media platforms while you ate and then sat out to wait.

A little while later, you were reading through an article about a show you were looking forward to when Richie appeared at your side.

“You can already go through to the back. Everyone’s left there, and I’m gonna finish with the couple customers left and close the front.”

“Oh, okay.” You got up and looked towards the kitchen.

“Okay, listen,” Richie started, looking suddenly serious. “I know I’ve been givin’ you shit and all that about him, but truth is, Mikey’s been… kinda all over the place lately. But since you showed up, speaking French and all that… I’ve seen more glimpses of my best friend than I have in a while.”

You stared at him in surprise. That’s not what you had expected to hear.

“Shit… I don’t wanna scare you off or anything. But… shit… Mikey, when he falls, he falls hard, yeah? And I can tell that you’re not some bitch out to hurt him or nothin’.”

You chuckled at his agitation.

“Nah… I’m just some Basic Beef, remember?” you said softly.

Richie snorted and nodded his head.

“But seriously, thank you, Richie. I’m glad that he has someone looking out for him… But yeah…” You looked towards the door leading to the kitchen. “Mikey, he… I just really, really like him”, you stated with a smile that you knew revealed how smitten you were by the man.

Richie nodded again with a small smile.

“Yeah…” He finally cleared his throat and waved towards the kitchen. “Right… Go ahead… And please, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, yeah? Remember, kitchen, sanitary measures.”

You groaned and shoved at his arm. Now, that was what you had expected. “Don’t be gross, Jerimovich.”

You heard him laughing as you walked towards the kitchen.

Stepping through the door, you looked around at the rows of appliances, pots, and pans, while you hung your coat and bag on a hook near the staff door. As you moved to the deepest part, you found Mikey in front of the stove, with three large pots bubbling away on it.

“Hey,” you said softly, coming to stand next to him with your hip against the counter as you faced his profile.

Mikey lifted his head from one of the pots he’d been leaning over and stirring, his hair curling at the top from the steam. He beamed as he saw you.

“Hey. Richie gone yet?”

“No, not yet. There was still a table left. He said he’d close the front and leave from there.”

Mikey looked towards where the front of the shop was, as if he could see Richie, and smiled.

“Smells delicious in here,” you said after a second, staring at the insides of the pots.

Mikey grinned. “Making the last batch of pulled pork and beef.”

You made a long hum of appreciation at that, which had Mikey uttering a pleased chuckle.

“Can I help you with anything?” you wondered, looking around yourself.

“Nah, I’m good. There ain’t much left to do except wait a bit, but…” he trailed off like earlier.

You tilted your head in question. He was being incredibly tentative tonight, which was kind of cute. “But?”

Mikey shot you a small glance and cleared his throat.

“Just wanted to see you for a bit longer.”

You ducked your head and smiled. While Mikey had flirted with you intensely over the last weeks, it had all been done in a lighthearted fashion. The interest had been genuine, but it had never been this open. This confession was raw and hit you straight in the heart.

“Yeah? Well… While I love the food you guys make here, you know that’s not really what has me coming back every time.”

Mikey smiled warmly, before he smirked. “C’est mon cul, pas vrai? (It’s my ass, right?)”

“Ah non mais t’es pas possible, arrête. (Oh come on, you’re the worst, stop it),” you half groaned, half laughed while pushing at his shoulder.

Mikey laughed heartily and caught your hand as he turned to face you fully. You looked into his eyes, filled with mirth, but also something so tender that it took your breath away.

“Wanna know something embarrassing about me?” he asked in a soft tone.

You nodded lightly, your heart in your throat and unable to speak with the way he was looking at you.

“J’avais déjà envie de t’embrasser le jour où on s’est rencontré. (I already wanted to kiss you on the day we met.)”

Your heart missed a beat before it started to beat faster.

“Alors pourquoi tu ne l’as pas encore fait? (Then why haven’t you done it yet?)” you breathed.

Mikey smiled and cupped one side of your face with a large and warm palm. “Bonne question. (Good question.),” he whispered, before slowly leaning in.

Your eyes automatically fell shut when his lips met yours. It was a soft kiss, just his lips pressing onto yours, as if testing the waters. You lifted your hands to his waist, your fingers gripping at his t-shirt as you slanted your head in request for more. Mikey huffed out a small breath against your lips, and moved in closer, giving you what you wanted. His hand went to the back of your head, with the fingers sliding into your hair as he parted your lips with his. You moaned at the first, soft stroke of his tongue against your bottom lip, just grazing the skin teasingly before he delved in further. Your fingers tightened in his shirt as the kiss turned into something more. More intense. Hungrier. Leaning against the stove, Mikey’s other hand went to the middle of your back, pulling you as close together as possible. In turn, you wrapped your arms around his chest and clung to his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you upright. You suddenly felt ridiculous about ever thinking that you didn’t have any issues with just seeing where this thing with Mikey was going, since you had clearly underestimated how much you actually wanted this. Wanted him. And from how he was kissing you, holding you so tightly against him, the feeling was unmistakably mutual.

You couldn’t say how long you stood there, locked together, with no signs of letting up, but you were pulled out of the moment by the pots suddenly bubbling wildly. Mikey cursed while you gasped, the two of you springing apart to see the contents of the pots sputtering around and almost starting to overflow. Jumping into action instantly, Mikey turned the heat down and stirred the pots while muttering under his breath.

Once everything was under control again, Mikey held himself up with his hands on the counter and exhaled deeply as he turned his head towards you.

“I think my ass is responsible for this too… I turned the heat back on high when I leaned against the stove,” he explained sheepishly.

You stared at him for a second, before you burst into laughter, while he watched you with an amused smile.

“You know,” you said lightly and stepped into his space again, wrapping your arms around his neck while he circled your waist with his. “I think I need to take some responsibility for this too.”

“Hm… you did distract me,” Mikey agreed with a chuckle, and leaned in to kiss you.

You grinned against his mouth, the kiss about to continue like you’d never been interrupted, when Mikey forcefully leaned his head away with a grunt and kissed your forehead instead.

“Okay… let’s just…”

“Am I distracting you again,” you laughed softly, looking into his warm, brown eyes.

“You have no idea,” he confessed, pulling you into a hug this time.

You smiled into the embrace and took in a deep breath, staying in this position for a few long minutes.

“Rentre avec moi? (Come home with me?)” you finally asked, although you kept your face against his shoulder.

Mikey cupped your face and tilted your head until he could look into your eyes, revealing his warm gaze.

“Avec plaisir. (It would be my pleasure.)”

#mikey berzatto #mikey berzatto x reader #michael berzatto #michael berzatto x reader #the bear #mikey berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #jon bernthal #darlingshane #birthday fic #mes fics

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starhvney · 2 days ago

Note

What are the ethnicities you hc for the aphmau characters?

𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐔 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐒

𝐀/𝐍: i love this question ty so much for asking me!! it’s so fun to just freeball it since the characters are literal pixels haha. on top of the ethnicities, i also paired my updated face claims i have for them.

(in advance, i’d like to apologize if i give an ethnicity to a character and the face claim i gave doesn’t really match it? i personally have a hard time associating features with ethnicities, and i pulled the pictures from pinterest so it was hard to confirm all of the face model's origins. i tried my best to do the research.)

anyways, i also included some diaries characters in here as well! i tried to group them all in a way that was coherent so i hope it all makes sense!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐊 & 𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐀𝐍: i really can’t see them as being anything other than native american. i just think it’s a perfect match for them

𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 & 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀: native american, obviously like their parents.

side note: i did some research and found out that some native american people have short hair and cut it, while others keep it long for tradition and only cut it for grieving purposes. so i think it makes sense to hc them as this—though long hair on all of them would be awesome, too. anyways, please educate me if i’m wrong on this!

𝐙𝐀𝐂𝐊: hispanic, though i haven’t decided on specifics

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀: hispanic, more specifically latina/mexican

𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐔: just like jess, i’ve always viewed her self insert as latina, too.

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘: i had trouble deciding for both him and travis, but i think i landed on him being french

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒: we don’t see his mom in mys, but we see her in mcd and she literally just looks like him. so i’ll say travis is also mostly french and possible mixed with another ethnicity to account for his nice tan

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄: that is a white man. he’s from o’khasis, so i feel like he’s straight up an englishman.

𝐙𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀: i see her as a small amount of mediterranean, specifically greek, mixed with scandinavian.

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇: garroth takes more after garte, though i think he’d have the bits of green in his eyes and tall nose from his mother.

𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐄: zane looks more like his mother, with his dark eyes and pale skin, though he has his fathers eyes and the curse of burning in the sun like a vampire from the english side.

𝐕𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐃: he looks the most like zianna, and the unknown biological father seemed to have been european as well based on his skin?

𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂: scottish (af) (samesies)

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇: british

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐍 & 𝐊𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐘: british and scottish. the whole family is paler than a sheet of paper

side note: i wish we saw more of katelyn’s other little brothers :(

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐄𝐍: undecided, though i’m leaning towards maybe spaniard and croatian? pretty sure the face model i chose for him is part italian, though.

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: he was difficult for me to decide on, because i feel like canonically he kind of presents as just a tan white man, but i like to think of him as a mix of northern italian and romanian!

𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐀: i personally view cadenza as being a little mix of scottish or irish, with her pale skin, ginger hair, and big blue eyes, it just makes the most sense to me.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀: puerto rican mayhapsies?

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄 & 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄: i’m not sure why, but i always thought of dante and gene as being mixed with being hispanic and asian ever since i was younger. in my subj3 fic, i more specifically wrote them to be half puerto rican and half korean!

𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀: russian/eastern european

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗: i have a face claim for him, but i haven’t thought of specifics on him yet. i’m leaning towards at least part hispanic, though.

𝐇𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐀: i’m not sure, but definitely european.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀: since hyria is white, i like to think lucinda is half white and mixed with a little greek and a little indian from her father!

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐀: based on her name and her character design being clearly based off of japanese culture, i view her as being fully japanese!

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐆: if not clear by her last name, she is so very clearly german to me. both by her last name and her coloring.

𝐓𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐘: jamacian

𝐊𝐈𝐌: ukranian

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄: mostly indian, and a small bit african

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋: i don’t know, he honestly just exists in my head. if someone could pls let me know what ethnicity the face model i chose for him looks like, that would be great!! ty!

𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐄: mainly dutch!

𝐑𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍: wasian, i’m so sorry but i haven’t put much thought into specifics for him

𝐈𝐕𝐘: english

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘: half english half spaniard

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗: surinamese chinese

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈: her name is japanese, but she has that pretty tan skin and those green eyes, so i’d say she’s part japanese, part filipino, and part kazakh! i'm aware her face claim isn't accurate to this, sorry ;^;

𝐄𝐈𝐍: i had a really hard time deciding on him. i feel like he’d also be native american and some puerto rican as well

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐎: belgian

𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐍: peruvian

𝐊𝐀𝐈: i think he’d be wasian, ¾ japanese and ¼ irish (ginger)

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍 & 𝐊𝐈𝐊𝐈: brazilian and egyptian

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐔𝐑: genuinely i cannot see him as anything other than a nerdy british man so that is what he shall be

𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐍: very obviously based on her coloring, she is also european of some sort. though, i haven’t decided specifics. it would honestly be so fun if her and kenmur were the stereotypical nerdy british couple though. so cute

𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍: scottish

𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀: since her village was in the water, an ethnicity from a northern european country by the water made sense to me. perhaps dutch?

𝐘𝐈𝐏: native american

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎, 𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, & 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀: scottish and dutch

𝐙𝐎𝐄𝐘: tall and sharper features fit the “elven” phenotype, so i think she’d maybe be estonian?

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈: undecided

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐍: undecided, though i’m leaning towards just making him british lol

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀: half native american half latina

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐓: undecided

𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐊𝐎(𝐍𝐄𝐊𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄-𝐓𝐀𝐍): half japanese, quarter korean and quarter hispanic.

𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐈: hispanic, korean, and german, though he looks more like dante than nicole.

𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄: german

𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘: french

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒 & 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍: german and french (obvi lol)

𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐘: persian

𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀: german

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄: persian and german... i guess? he got most of his looks from his mom

𝐉𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐘 & 𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘: english/british

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍 & 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐃: undecided. idek man i just put them in here cause they make me giggle lol

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘: sean

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