#time to get 2024-2025 i guess

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent-ish things ~

[captainrufflebanger]

I suppose it's a bit telling that as someone who never had migraines before in their life, my emotional stress has been so bad this year I've begun having them. Brain please that is anything but helpful 🫠

[meerphanim]

{ Click/Tap for better quality. }

Me, The Calender! And Happy New Year!

[mononijikayu]

you belong with me — nanami kento.

"Hi….I’m Kento."

“Kento, huh.” you said, testing the name again like you were rolling it around in your head, trying to get the feel of it. After a moment, you nodded, satisfied.

“Yeah, that’s my name.”

“That’s a good name.” You declared it with the authority of a five-year-old who had decided someone was officially worth their time.

“Your name’s okay too... I guess,” Kento replied, his tone so nonchalant it was almost teasing.

GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, romance, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, p to v sex, car sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my love, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, best friend! nanami kento, best friend! reader;

WORD COUNT: 14k words.

NOTE: hello everyone, this is the final fic for 2024!!! wah, there's a lot to say. first and foremost, this fic would not be possible if it wasn't for the lovely person who commissioned it from me awhile back. please give them a lot of love and a lot of thanks.

they were my first ever commission here and still it flutters my heart with joy to have worked them. they were so good to me and continues to do so, with how they want to share this fic with you too.

also, i want to thank you all for sticking with me this 2024. it was a long road and a really painful time. i wrote to escape these painful times and i got through 2024 with you guys, just enjoying stories in my head. so thank you!!! there were a lot and there are still a lot i haven't published here.

i hope we continue to be together in 2025 too. i'll continue to write for both of us, to have solace in hard times. i bow to you in all ways that i can. thank you for being good to me!!! i love you all. this is kayu signing off for 2024. please have a lovely and wonderful new year and i'll see you on january 2025 <33333

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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EVEN AS A CHILD, YOU THOUGHT THAT HE BELONGED TO YOU. It was a childish little thing, you knew that much. But the moment you met Nanami Kento at the park when you were five years old, you just knew he was going to be your best friend.

And no one else could claim that from you. It wasn’t something you decided after a long debate in your head. If anything, it was instinctive, instant, like the way a flower turns toward the sun. What surprised you even more was that he didn’t seem to mind it.

That day, Nanami Kento was sitting on the swings, looking unusually serious for a kid. His little legs dangled, barely brushing the ground, and he rocked back and forth so slightly it was as if he wasn’t even moving. It was odd. 

Most kids treated the swings like they were flying machines, pumping their legs wildly, laughing as they soared. But not Kento. He just sat there, his small hands gripping the chains, his gaze fixed on the ground as though it held all the answers to the universe.

It wasn’t sadness—not exactly. He didn’t look miserable or lonely. No, it was more like he was... satisfied. Content in his little bubble of silence, where the noise of the playground seemed to slide right past him.

You, however, were not content with his quiet. What could a kid possibly have to think about so deeply? Why wasn’t he running around, chasing someone, or shouting nonsense with the other kids? How could he stomach sitting there alone for so long?

The questions buzzed in your head, but more than that, you felt a pull. You wanted to know him. You wanted him to talk to you, to share whatever thoughts were hiding behind those serious brown eyes. And if he wouldn’t come to you, well, that was fine. You’d go to him.

You had the kind of confidence that only comes from being five years old and utterly fearless. The kind of confidence that didn’t know rejection or hesitation, only the certainty that the world would say "yes" if you asked it nicely enough.

So, you marched right up to him, your pigtails bouncing with each determined step. You put on your brightest smile, the kind of smile that has always gotten adults to bend down and coo. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?”

"Hi!" you announced, planting yourself firmly in front of him like he had no choice but to acknowledge you. You told him your name, grinning at him. 

He blinked, startled out of his deep, secured thoughts to the sight of you. It took a while, but he  lifted his caramel gaze to meet yours. For a moment, he just looked at you, like he wasn’t sure if you were real. No one has ever approached him before, well not as brazenly as this. Then, finally, he answered you back. 

"Hi….I’m Kento."

“Kento, huh.” you said, testing the name again like you were rolling it around in your head, trying to get the feel of it. After a moment, you nodded, satisfied. 

“Yeah, that’s my name.”

“That’s a good name.” You declared it with the authority of a five-year-old who had decided someone was officially worth their time.

“Your name’s okay too... I guess,” Kento replied, his tone so nonchalant it was almost teasing.

“Huh? It’s pretty!” you retorted, your hands flying to your hips, a slight pout settling on your lips. “My mom thought hard about it, you know!”

“So did mine.” Kento shot back, a flicker of mischief lighting his normally serious face. Then, in a tone that was just a little too smug, he added, “It’s a good name too.”

For a second, you just stared at him, caught off guard by the slyness in his tone. Then, to your own surprise, you burst out laughing. It wasn’t just the words that got to you—it was the way he said them, so calm and deliberate, like he was throwing you a challenge wrapped in politeness.

“You’re funny, you know that?” you decided, grinning widely.

Kento raised an eyebrow at that, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Well, you are.” you said firmly, as though your opinion was final. “So, Kento, what do you wanna do? We could swing, or climb the jungle gym, or—oh! We could build a sandcastle!”

He blinked, caught off guard by your rapid-fire suggestions. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, like he wasn’t used to making decisions for playtime.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand without a second thought. “Then we’re doing the sandcastle! Come on, you’re gonna love it.”

He let you pull him along, his steps falling into rhythm with yours. “What if I don’t?” he asked, his voice so soft you almost missed the challenge in it.

“You will!” you said confidently, already imagining the crooked towers you’d build together. “Because I said so.”

Nanami Kento didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a quiet laugh, the sound so small you might’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. But you were paying attention, because something about this boy made you want to see every little detail he kept hidden in that quiet bubble of his.

From that moment, Kento Nanami became yours.

He knew that just as much as you did, even then.

And he was certain you were just as much his from then.

It wasn’t long into your days of playdates before you started staking your claim. You didn’t mean to—well, maybe you did. That really didn’t matter. What mattered was that you and Kento were having fun. Like the time some other kids approached while you and Kento were hard at work in the sandbox, trying to make your castle less crooked.

"Hey, kid!" one of them called, pointing at the little shovel in Kento’s hands. "Can I borrow that?"

"No way." you said firmly before Kento could even open his mouth. You shot the kid a look that clearly said back off. "We’re using it."

"But—"

"Nope. Sorry. It’s ours to play with." you cut them off, turning back to your castle as if the conversation was over. "Right, Kento?"

Kento hesitated for a second, glancing between you and the other kid, before quietly nodding. "Right."

The other kids' faces were filled with harsh looks at what you said. But you didn’t care. All they could do was huff and puff until they were blue in the face. You would never budge, not even if they wanted you too. 

You were a tough girl. And you always got what you wanted. And you wanted your new friend and his attention only on you. So you didn't care what you did. You’ll keep your friend, no matter what they want. 

Soon enough, they gave in and went to wander off. You can only smile. You didn’t feel the slightest bit bad. If anything, you had wished that they had left much sooner. 

You turned to Kento with a satisfied smile. "Good. They’d just mess it up anyway. It’s better if we play together, only us!"

Kento tilted his head, watching you with that quiet curiosity he always seemed to have. You seemed to be content about playing just by yourself, by his side. Not many kids seem to be content about wanting to do that at all.

"Why don’t you let other kids play with us?" he asked.

You looked at him like the answer should’ve been obvious. "Because you’re my friend. I found you first. That means you’re mine."

For a moment, he just stared at you.

Then, slowly, that tiny, barely-there smile returned.

"Okay." he said simply, like he didn’t mind one bit.

══════════════════

YEARS DRAGGED ON IN A FLASH FOR BOTH OF YOU. From that day forward, Nanami Kento was your shadow. Or maybe you were his—it often depended on who was asking and whose ego needed inflating at the moment.

But that was just how it was between the two of you. And you were content about how that goes. You knew he was just the same. Not because you went around declaring it (okay, maybe you did once or twice), but because your actions left no room for doubt.

The two of you were inseparable, and everyone knew it. In a way, both your parents were both glad and concerned about it. Glad that you both were in each other’s lives, nurturing and caring for each other. That means you both weren’t lonely, and you both were happily playing with each other day in and out of school.

But concerned that you weren’t letting each other find any other people in your lives and explore other friendships. But that hardly mattered to the two of you. Both of you didn’t budge. You didn’t need anyone else. If anything, you only need each other. You were both content with that. 

If there was a school project, Nanami Kento was your partner. No debates, no negotiation. You made sure of it every single time. It got to the point where teachers didn’t even bother asking anymore. By third grade, the class roster might as well have been printed with your name and his own written in bold under "Partners" for every project.

“Do you guys ever work with anyone else?” a classmate once dared to ask.

“Why would we?” you replied, looking genuinely puzzled. “He’s the best at making the physical parts.I don’t need anyone else.”

Kento, standing beside you, simply shrugged. “She’s good at explaining the messy, hard parts.” he said, so matter-of-factly it left no room for argument.

At lunch, it was no different. You always saved him a spot, waving him over like a VIP guest being ushered past the velvet rope. And no one dared sit with the two of you. Not after The Incident.

There was one time where a new kid made the mistake of sliding into the seat next to Nanami Kento before he got there. You didn’t even hesitate to act as quickly as you could. 

“Excuse me, new kid.” you said, your voice sugary sweet, but your eyes narrowing dangerously.

“What?” the kid asked, glancing up at you.

“That’s his seat.” You pointed toward Kento, who was still in the lunch line, entirely oblivious to the showdown brewing at the table.

“Seats are for everyone in the school.” the kid said, with all the defiance of someone who didn’t know better yet. “I can sit wherever I want.”

And that’s when you did it. You reached out and swatted their hand as they tried to open their milk carton. You glared at him, almost as cold as the North Pole. He gulped at your glare. You were terrifying for a middle schooler.

“Go. Somewhere. Else.” you said, every word punctuated with a glare that could have sent a grown man packing. “That’s HIS seat!”

The new kid was terrified and immediately scurried off, muttering something about "territorial weirdos." — that was another thing for the school to whisper about in their past time. But you didn’t care. 

By the time that he got out of the boy’s toilets, Nanami Kento got to the table, his spot was as clear as always, and you were already peeling the wrapper off the sandwich your mom made for him like nothing had happened.

“Thanks.” he said, sitting down without even asking why the kid from earlier was now eating on the other side of the cafeteria. He saw that of course. But he didn’t dare ask. “Thank your mom for me, about the sandwich.”

“You’re welcome.” you replied, sliding his sandwich over to him. You smiled as he opened his own lunch bag and started to pull out chocolate pudding in a tupperware. “Ohhhh, your mom thought of dessert!”

“Hm, I asked her.” Kento retorts back to you, smiling softly at your excitement. “Since you like chocolate pudding.”

“Thank your mama for me, okay?”

“Hm, I will.”

But of course, your protectiveness didn’t stop at lunch seats. If anything, you were protective of him to the point that it was already insane. If anyone so much as thought about teasing him, you were on them like a hawk. It didn’t matter if it was a stupid nickname or a poorly aimed joke. Nanami Kento wasn’t going to deal with any of it, not on your watch.

“Hey, Kento, why are you so quiet all the time?” one boy snickered during recess, his tone dripping with mockery.

Before Kento could even respond, you were already there, hands on your hips and glaring like you were ready to call down the wrath of the heavens. You glared at the kid as though he was meeting to face a thousand suns. 

“Maybe he’s quiet because he doesn’t waste time saying dumb things like you do.” you snapped, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow for maximum effect. “Stop being a weird waste of space and leave him alone, you freak!”

The boy tried to stammer something in response, but you didn’t wait to hear it. You didn’t care for what they said. Only for what Kento says. You rolled your eyes at the kid, as though he bored you and looked away. Soon enough, you turned back to Kento, your expression softening immediately. 

“Come on, Kento.” you said, grabbing his hand. “We’re going to the swings.”

Kento didn’t say much about that. But later, when that same boy made a malicious face at you from across the playground and had made a plan to chase you with a bottle of water to throw, Nanami Kento was the first to sense a threat against you.

He sighed heavily and without even looking up from his picture book muttered just loud enough for you to hear. “She’s faster than you, you know? She would wet your hair and make fun of you for it. So, I wouldn’t try it.”

The boy stayed far away after that.

And you could only giggle at what he said.

Nanami Kento knew you all too well.

But just as much as you were ready to fight Nanami Kento’s battles, he was ready to fight yours. And while you often took on challenges with the energy of a charging bull, Kento’s approach was quieter, deadlier—like a knife slipping between ribs before anyone even noticed it was there. He was just that type of kid, you think.

You first realized just how far Kento was willing to go for you one day when a group of older girls decided to target your ponytails. It wasn’t a big deal to you at first; you were used to the occasional teasing. But this time, something about their tone, or maybe the way they crowded around, everything about it had made your stomach twist.

“Why do you always look like you just rolled out of bed?” one of them sneered, her voice dripping with faux innocence.

Her friends burst into laughter, as if she’d just delivered the punchline of the century. You bristled, the words forming on your tongue to snap back. But before you could speak, Kento appeared, slipping between you and the girls like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why do you care?” he asked, his tone calm, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

It was such a simple question, but somehow it silenced the entire group. The girl blinked at him, thrown off by his directness. Kento yawned, as though he was already bored with her. She had never expected anything from him. Kento was quiet and reserved. 

He was also popular and quite a handsome young boy that people had a crush on. Even when he didn’t talk or pay any mind to any of them. You glared at this girl, as though she was the worst of them all. She’s always been trying to take Kento from you.

“Uh, excuse me?” she said, attempting to regain her composure.

“You heard me.” Kento’s gaze was steady, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was an edge to his voice that made it clear he wasn’t messing around. “Why do you care what she looks like? Or are you just bored?”

The giggling stopped. 

“Well, I—” The girl floundered, her cheeks turning pink. 

“She looks fine to me.” Kento interrupted smoothly, tilting his head slightly as if he were assessing them. “Better than you, anyway. I mean, those pants with that shirt? What are you thinking? Does your mom even love you if she allows you to wear something like that?”

You could’ve heard a pin drop at what he had said. You look at him, blinkingly. Before finding yourself bellowing at laughter at how blunt he had worked everything. The girls gasped, their mouths falling open in perfect synchronization. One of them muttered something about “rude boys” and then, just like that, they were gone, retreating with their tails between their legs.

You stood there, stunned, as Kento turned back to you like nothing had happened. You finally straightened yourself from your laughing form. You wiped your eyes as you turned back at him. You grinned at his words. 

“Better than her?” you repeated later as the two of you walked back to class. You were trying not to laugh, but the corners of your mouth kept twitching upward.

“It’s true. You already know that.” he said simply, not bothering to look up from the book he’d already opened, as if the whole thing hadn’t even fazed him.

“Aw, you think I’m cute, don’t you?” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“Don’t push it.” he replied dryly, but the tiny smirk playing at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

══════════════════

BUT OF COURSE, THIS ONLY INTENSIFIED ONCE YOU BOTH GREW OLDER. Entering this new environment, in high school — one could say nothing had ever changed. If anything, it has only grown more concrete that you and Nanami Kento, no one can separate the two of you even if they tried. 

If one were to describe how you both were, it would be like being a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Inseparable. And even when people questioned it, you turned them down just as easily. Little by little, people barely questioned it anymore. 

You had long since reached the point where your friendship was so solid that it seemed like a fact of life. If anyone tried to ask about it, the answer was already clear: You two were a package deal. And while you liked it that way, not everyone seemed to get the memo.

It didn’t take long for the attention to roll in once high school started. You were used to it by now. After all, you and Kento had always been a pair of conspicuously close friends, so naturally, people were curious. 

But this was a different kind of curiosity, the kind that came with stares and whispers behind your backs. Everyone seemed to have suddenly developed a keen interest in your best friend, and you couldn’t decide if it was because of his brooding good looks or that deep, mysterious aura he carried, but maybe, probably both.

It started with the girls, as it usually did. They would hover around Kento in class, a little too eager to engage in conversations about anything—his favorite books, his thoughts on the weather, even the random things he’d written in the margins of his notes. It didn’t matter what they brought up; they were just looking for an excuse to get a reaction out of him. 

They wanted to be the one to crack the mystery that was Nanami Kento. And of course, they expected him to open up, to smile, to laugh, to do something that would confirm they were special enough to make him forget his usual quiet, studious demeanor.

But Kento, being the stoic, no-nonsense guy he was, would respond with quiet politeness, barely even registering their presence. He would tilt his head slightly when they asked questions, look at them through the edge of his glasses, and give just enough of an answer to keep things from getting awkward.

The girls would often stare at him a little longer than necessary, hoping for a second of warmth or acknowledgment. But no matter how many times they tried, all they got was that polite, impersonal smile that didn’t reach his eyes. And it wasn’t that he didn’t care; it was just that he didn’t care about them, not in the way they wanted. 

To Nanami Kento, it was all just noise. So, he’d just keep his focus on what mattered, which was probably the latest algebra problem or his ongoing internal monologue about the best way to prepare his next snack.

Even as an emo guy with that black hoodie, messy blond hair, brooding eyes that screamed ‘don’t talk to me, but if you do, be prepared for my sarcasm’—people still flocked to him. It was almost unfair, you thought. He had this combination of boy-next-door charm and detached, almost tragic mystique that girls couldn’t resist. 

He was a pretty boy, you knew that much. You’d known him long enough to appreciate the way his eyes glinted in the sunlight, how his messy hair always looked effortlessly perfect, how he somehow made a monotone voice sound like the most hypnotic thing in the room.

And it wasn’t just the girls, either. The guys were starting to notice, too. Sure, they didn’t hover the same way, but they’d get a little too chatty when Kento was around, laughing a little too hard at his dry jokes, trying just a bit too hard to be friendly.

Everyone knew he wasn’t the type to just buddy up with anyone, and that mystery only made him more desirable. So when they’d get too close, you’d notice the slight twitch of Kento’s eyebrow, the way he’d lean just a little bit further away to make it clear that he was not interested in their company.

But the one thing you didn’t doubt was this: Kento was really polite. He never outright rejected anyone, and that politeness was a plus. Sure, it drove you a little crazy when they’d swarm him like bees to honey.

But you had to admit that his politeness was a rare commodity in a world where most people had no issue turning someone down rudely or making them feel uncomfortable. Kento didn’t do that. He’d simply nod back at people and get back to whatever it was he was doing, never making a fuss about the attention.

Well, it was better than over half the school, that’s for sure. You’d seen the way people treated each other, cold and snide, brushing off others without so much as a second thought. Kento was a rare gem in that regard. He was a gentleman, even in the face of all the attention he was getting, and that made it all the more frustrating. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want people to admire him; you just didn’t like the thought of anyone thinking they could replace you. You and Kento had this bond, a strong one, one that didn’t need words to be understood. But here was the thing—everyone else didn’t get it. And that was where the fun (and by fun, you mean sneaky sabotage) began.

After all, who else could say they knew all his little quirks? Who else had shared so many quiet lunches under that same oak tree, or been the one to force him to eat a full meal instead of staring at his book? You were his best friend, and that meant you had a certain, special claim on him, no matter how many girls wanted to make themselves part of his world.

But, like the selfless best friend you were, you’d keep that fact under wraps. No one needed to know you had a stake in him—especially when you were also the one helping him avoid the chaos of all his newfound admirers. Let them keep fighting over who could be the one to crack Kento's cold exterior; you'd be the one to keep it safe.

But that wasn’t enough. No, they wanted more. They wanted to peel back the layers, crack open that cool exterior, and find whatever hidden treasure lay beneath. And that was where you came in. That’s where you always have to come in. He was your best friend, after all.

It wasn’t that you hated the attention Kento was getting, but it was yours, wasn’t it? You didn’t want anyone to think they could just stroll up and waltz into the little bubble you and Kento had created. And you know he agreed. He doesn’t really need anyone else, he’s said that to you numerous times.

So naturally, you and Kento found creative ways to sabotage any admirer who dared to get too close. It wasn’t malicious, exactly. Well, not to you or Kento. it was more like you were just “protecting” him, and, on occasion, he did the same for you.

It started with the simple things. You'd hover near him during lunch, casually tossing your snacks at him in a way that made it obvious you didn’t want him interacting too much with anyone else. It was like a game of cat-and-mouse between the two of you. Both of you pretended you weren’t doing it, but everyone knew exactly what you were up to.

For example, when this girl from the other class named Yuki asked to sit with Kento one day during lunch time, you quickly swooped in, plopping down next to him like you were the most important thing in his world. You grinned at him and he hummed.

“Hey, Kentooooo!” you said, dropping your lunch tray in front of him. “Did you get those history notes I gave you this morning?”

Yuki opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, you continued to talk to him with a brighter grin. You nonchalantly handed your strawberry milk carton to him and he started to open it for you with the same amount of cool. 

“I was thinking of making brownies this weekend. You like chocolate, right? The ones that we used to buy at the mart? It hasn’t changed, right?” You sent her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I know it's probably too sweet, but it’s his favorite.”

Kento nodded back at you as he placed your strawberry milk carton on the side. You thanked him happily as you started to drink with happy sounds. Kento simply looked at Yuki with the politest expression he could muster and muttered back at her. 

“Sorry, I’ve got a study group with her after school. Maybe next time.”

Yuki didn’t even bother trying to argue, just nodding stiffly before retreating. You shot Kento a quick grin, but before you could say anything, he just sighed and went back to his book.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” he muttered under his breath. “Could have handled that myself.”

“But I have to. You know that.” you said with a grin, popping a piece of fruit into your mouth. “You’re my best friend, not hers.”

One day at lunch, as you and Kento sat under the shade of the old oak tree, munching on your usual snacks, a girl named Mia from your history class walked by. She glanced at Kento, then at you, then back at Kento, before finally stopping a few feet away.

"Hey, Kento!" she called, her voice way too sweet for your liking. “Mind if I join you guys?”

You didn’t even have to look up from your crackers. “Sure, but he doesn’t bite.” you said, not even looking at Mia. “I mean, I don’t think so...”

Kento, who had been engrossed in a textbook the size of a brick, glanced up at you before looking back at Mia. "I can sit alone, you know." he said, a little too casually, not even bothering to hide the fact that he didn’t care much for the attention.

Mia, undeterred, tried again. “Are you sure? I heard you like this band, too. Maybe we could—”

But before she could finish her sentence, you leaned forward, dropping a half-eaten cracker dramatically into your lap as if to make your point clear. 

"If you want to talk about music, you’re gonna have to take it up with me right now, okay?" you declared, giving her your best “this is my turf” look. "Kento here’s more into his book right now, not whatever band you think you have in common with him."

Kento blinked slowly, clearly trying to figure out why he was being pulled into this, but didn't argue. He just glanced at you and nodded, an expression you knew meant, I’m not getting involved in this one.

Mia looked between you and Kento, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Okay, fine.” she muttered before turning around and walking off, her face flushed red.

"Good job, hero," Kento muttered under his breath, voice dry.

You smirked at him. "You’re welcome, sunshine."

Of course, it wasn’t like you were the only one who was possessive. Nanami Kento hated that you were constantly getting hit on. It drove him absolutely insane. Apparently, teenage boys had this ridiculous notion that your consistent rejections made you more appealing. The more you turned them down, the more determined they became, like you were some kind of prize to be won.

Nanami Kento of course, naturally, found this logic baffling—and irritating. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to handle yourself; he absolutely did. He hated everyone else, maybe most of all the men around him and of course — you. 

But watching those guys swarm around you, trying to impress you with their lame jokes or over-the-top compliments, made his jaw tighten and his grip on his pen just a little too firm. Oh, he hated men even more like that. And, well, Kento was never one to sit back and let something annoy him for too long. Not when it comes to you.

But of course, there are things that come as unexpected too.

Maybe it was because Nanami Kento was too perceptive.

Maybe he was just good at dissecting situations happening.

He doesn’t know how this happened, or how this came to pass.

But today would change his life for good, that was certain.

A week after one particularly bold senior cornered you after class to “ask for your number” Kento decided to return the favor—not with dramatics, of course, but with his usual understated, calm assertiveness.

You were sitting in the library, animatedly telling Kento about your latest sketch. It was a concept you were certain would win the upcoming art contest. He was actually paying attention, nodding slightly as you explained your technique, when suddenly, a guy from the senior class decided to interrupt.

“Hey, you’re the girl who draws, right?” the senior asked, leaning against the edge of the table with a grin that screamed overconfident.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah, that’s me.”

“Well,” he continued, practically oozing smugness, “I was thinking, maybe you’d want to collaborate on some sketches sometime. You know, we could—”

Before he could finish whatever weak line he’d rehearsed, Kento smoothly slid into the seat beside you, his broad shoulders cutting off your view of the guy. He didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead, he turned to you, his voice calm but laced with just enough edge to make his point.

“I’m pretty sure sketching is a solitary activity.” Kento said matter-of-factly. “You know, for concentration… unless, of course, you want a distraction?”

The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Kento’s sudden presence. “Uh, no, I—”

Kento didn’t let him finish. “You know….” he continued, still not looking at the guy. “It’s actually better if you’re alone when you’re working. Less… interruptions.” 

He then picked up your sketchbook, flipping through it with the kind of casual indifference that somehow made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. Your jaw dropped at what he’s done.He’s silly like this sometimes, you think to yourself. 

“Kento!” you half-laughed, half-scolded, reaching for your sketchbook. “That’s my sketchbook!”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” he replied nonchalantly, not even pretending to give it back. His attention wasn’t on your sketches anymore, though. His eyes were fixed on the poor senior, who was now fidgeting uncomfortably under Kento’s unnervingly calm stare. 

“Do you mind?” Kento said coolly. “She’s busy.”

The guy stammered something unintelligible, his confidence evaporating faster than a spilled soda in the sun. “Uh… yeah, maybe another time, I guess.” he mumbled before slinking off, clearly realizing he was no match for Nanami Kento’s level of subtle intimidation.

Once the guy was gone, you turned back to Kento, crossing your arms with a mix of exasperation and amusement. You giggled to yourself for a moment. He sighed, looking at how amused you were. It was always like this with you, getting giddy when he does things like this.

“Nice one, Kento.” you said, smirking. “You do know I could have handled that, right?”

Kento raised an eyebrow, setting your sketchbook back down and leaning back in his chair like nothing had happened. You take it back from him, giving him a small thanks. He couldn’t stop looking at you. But when you looked up again, he'd already looked away.

“Sure.” he said, his lips curling into that faint, almost-smile of his. “But it looked like you were busy… talking to him.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm. “What was that even about? You’re not my bodyguard, you know.”

“I wasn’t being a bodyguard.” he replied, his tone annoyingly calm. “I was just... pointing out how distracting he was being.”

“Right, right.” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “And that had nothing to do with you hating that he interrupted us?”

Kento didn’t answer right away, but the way his eyes flickered with quiet amusement gave him away. He never likes admitting it out loud, but he feels glad. He feels glad when he makes sure you both are alone. You were all he needed after all.

“Maybe.” he finally admitted, his voice as casual as ever. “Or maybe I just wanted to look at your sketchbook.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you talk too much.” he countered, eyes shining softly against your own.

You giggled back at him, your lips smiling beautifully at him. Beautifully more than ever before. “But you like it that way, don’t you?”

Huh, what was that? He thought to himself.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

Was that his heart beating like that just now?

For a moment, he stops and looks at you. You were unaware about what happened just now. Instead, you were back on your sketching, humming to some song you were obsessed with right now. Kento swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of how he was looking at you. He cleared his throat. 

“We should get going.” he said finally, his voice a little quieter than usual. “The library closes soon.”

You nodded, falling into step beside him as you always did. But as you walked, Kento couldn’t help sneaking a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. He’d always thought of himself as someone who was good at keeping his emotions in check, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Is this what it feels like? Kento wondered as he watched you walk off in front of him. 

He stops. He takes in the sight of you. You were laughing, hopping on the tiles one by one. The sun glows behind you like a beacon leading him to the direction of life. You nearly fell, making him jump forward. But you held your balance. 

And then you laughed. Laughed so beautifully that he doesn’t know what to do.  He could feel every fiber of him turning warm, warmer and redder than ever before. His heart beating out of rhythm again. 

Ah, shit. Kento once more thinks to himself. I’m screwed.

══════════════════

HE DOESN’T THINK TO SAY ANYTHING. How could he, when he’s scared about the outcome? But as the time flew by as fast as it could, he knew he can’t keep being a coward about it. He had to say something. He should do it soon.

It was going to come out anyway. College was looming on both your shoulders. And with that, a lot of uncertainty came. If he says something, at the very least there would be something certain, concrete as your friendship. 

The two of you sat cross-legged on the floor of Kento’s family home, a single bottle of sake between you. Neither of you had much experience with alcohol, but the thrill of being eighteen and toeing the line of rebellion was too tempting to resist.

Kento poured carefully into the mismatched cups you'd found in his cupboard, his movements precise, even in the low light.

"Cheers, cheers!" you yell with that bright eyed grin, raising your cup to him.

"To...?" he asked, his brow arching slightly, always wanting things to have a purpose.

"To us!" you said simply, eyes sparkling with mischief.

He hesitated, his breath catching in his chest, before clicking his cup against yours. "To us."

The first sip was sharp, burning its way down, but it wasn’t long before the alcohol began to work its magic with swift effectivity. You laughed more freely, leaning closer to him, and your words came faster, your thoughts unfiltered.

"You know, Kentooooo." you said, poking his shoulder with a pout. "You’re, like, ridiculously handsome, right?"

Kento froze mid-sip, his ears instantly turning as pink as your sweater. "W–what?"

"I mean it! You’re so... ugh…." you groaned, tossing your head back dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?"

"Like what?" he asked, his voice soft, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest.

"Like you’re trying not to smile, but your eyes are giving you away." you teased, your grin widening as you poked his cheek this time.

Nanami Kento could feel his heart pounding so loud he was sure you could hear it. Every word you spoke chipped away at his usual composure, and he could feel himself unraveling under the weight of your drunken admiration. In just this moment, you wholly outwit him. You make him come undone. Only you can have that effect on him. Only you. 

"You’re unbelievable, you know that?" he muttered, trying to look away, but you caught his chin, turning his face back to yours.

"Admit it already, won’t you?" you said, your voice lower now, but no less playful. "You like me. Maybe even a little too much."

Kento stared at you, the world blurring slightly around the edges, whether from the alcohol or the way you were looking at him, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to do it like this. He didn’t want to put up his hopes that you would be sober enough to know the truth. Or for you to have sober truths pouring out of your sharp grinning lips. 

"I think…" he began, his voice steady but his heart anything but.

“You think?”

"I’m falling for you. More and more. Every second."

You blinked at what had just shifted in the air, your teasing expression softening as you processed his words. Then, to his surprise, you smiled—not mischievously this time, but gently, sweetly. Full with a merry drink, you smiled.

"Good." you whispered, leaning in so close he could smell the faint sweetness of the sake on your breath. "You said really good words.”

Kento barely had time to breathe before you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, leaving his face on fire and his heart completely, utterly yours. Kento froze, the warmth of your lips lingering on his cheek like a brand. His breath hitched as your words sank into the alcohol-drenched air between you. 

“I think I’m already there.”

He stared at you, his usually composed mind now an unsteady swirl of emotions—exhilaration, disbelief, and a flicker of hesitation. Your gaze was soft, dreamy, and undeniably sincere, but the alcohol in your system clouded everything. He said it out loud. But are you sure? How could you be, with how merry the drink is in your belly?

"You don’t mean that." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it too loud would shatter the fragile moment.

"I do. I do." you said, your expression serious despite the light flush of intoxication on your cheeks. You reached for his hand, holding it with a gentle firmness that made his heart stumble in its rhythm.

Kento's fingers curled instinctively around yours before he could stop himself, but his grip was careful, steady. "You're drunk. I just…you can’t say that drunk." he pointed out, his voice more tender than reprimanding.

You frowned, tilting your head like you were trying to understand him through the haze. "So? That doesn’t mean it’s not true."

He sighed, looking down at your joined hands. He wanted so desperately to believe you, to let his heart leap completely into your words, but his rational side, his ever-present voice of reason. It held him back.

"It matters. It matters to me." he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly. "If you mean it, I need to hear it when you’re sober. When you’re sure."

"But I am sure, Kento." you insisted, leaning closer, your warmth almost overwhelming him. Your free hand reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, and he felt the breath leave his lungs in a rush.

Kento shook his head, his smile faint but aching with restraint. "Not like this." he murmured. "You’ll wake up tomorrow and—"

"And what? Pretend this didn’t happen?" you interrupted, your brows knitting together. "Do you think I’d forget how much I lo—"

His hand shifted, gently pressing a single finger to your lips to quiet you, though it was more for his sake than yours. He wasn’t sure he could take it, hearing those words from you while your judgment was fogged.

"Stop. Please." he said, his voice barely steady. "Don’t say it now. Not tonight."

Your eyes searched hisfrustration flickering in their depths before softening. You saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way he looked at you like he was holding back an ocean of feelings.

"You're such a romantic, aren’t you?" you murmured, a teasing lilt to your voice as a lazy smile spread across your face.

He gave a quiet chuckle, his fingers brushing against your cheek now without realizing it. "Maybe." he admitted, his tone gentler than ever. "But I want this—want us—to start right. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me again."

You let out a small sigh but didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as your eyelids grew heavy. You always liked this, taking in his warmth. You don’t think there was any other place you belonged in but his arms.

If you were being honest, you were afraid. He was right. Your words could mean something, and maybe it wouldn’t be as clear as his own. You were drunk. You were really drunk. And feels hazy in your head. It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair to your Kento. Not like this.

"Fine." you murmured, your words slurring slightly. "But you’d better be ready for me to say it a hundred times tomorrow. Maybe a thousand."

Kento chuckled again, the sound low and warm in his chest, as he rested his chin lightly on top of your head. "I’ll be ready." he promised, even as his own heart thudded wildly at the thought. “I’m always waiting for you. Always.”

And as you drifted off, still clutching his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, Kento silently vowed to himself: when the time came, he’d tell you how deeply, how completely he felt for you too. He just needed to be sure you knew what it meant.

The morning after that night, you woke up on Kento's couch, the faint remnants of sake lingering in the air. Your head throbbed lightly, and your memories were fuzzy around the edges. Kento, ever thoughtful, had left a glass of water and some aspirin on the table beside you.

"Rough night?" he asked from the kitchen, his voice steady but carefully neutral as he busied himself making coffee.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "What did I even say last night? I barely remember anything."

He hesitated, his hand tightening briefly on the handle of the coffee pot. He looked over at you, your half-asleep face free of the weight of your drunken confessions. For a moment, he considered saying something, but the words got caught in his throat.

"Nothing too embarrassing," he said instead, forcing a faint smile.

You laughed, your cheeks reddening slightly. "Good. I’d hate to think I made a fool of myself in front of you."

Kento gave a small nod, but his heart felt heavy. You didn’t remember, and he couldn’t bring himself to remind you. Not like this. So, he lets himself break apart. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t let you have guilt. Because if he did, how is that loving you?

So Nanami Kento buried those words, locking them away where they couldn’t touch the fragile balance between you. He told himself it was better this way. But he hopes, maybe one day — just one day. You’ll see him too. Sober with your love for him.

══════════════════

THINGS DID CHANGE A BIT WHEN YOU WENT TO COLLEGE. Of course, you both got into the same university. But there’s a rough difference between not only being in different departments, but also being in different campuses. It was a rough travel back and forth. But Nanami Kento was determined to go and visit you.

You often feel a little bad when you look back on those days. Engineering classes were no joke. Too many long hours, grueling projects, and the constant pressure to keep up left you drained most of the time.

You barely had the energy to go out, even when you wanted to. But Kento never minded. He understood in the quiet, steady way that only he could, and instead of waiting for you to have time, he made sure to visit you instead.

It didn’t matter where for him. Whether it was the bustling campus lunch hall, where the two of you would share a plate of something warm while you tried to finish an assignment, or your dorm room, which was always a little messy with textbooks and half-drunk cups of coffee.

What mattered to him wasn’t the place or even what you were doing. What mattered was just being with you.

And that thought? It never fails to make your heart skip a beat. Even now, after everything, it feels just as special as it did back then. You still held dearest to him after all this time. Ever since you were kids, you were his everything. And you were sure, more than ever now, that he was yours too. In all sense of the word.

It’s been a year and a half since that time, since you confessed to Kento. Well, technically, drunk you confessed to him. It was late, and you’d had just enough to drink to make your heart bolder than your brain. You didn’t want to say a word. And you think that Kento was just as much waiting for you to say something.

You were ready to die of embarrassment when you remembered that you had said that. But then you remembered, with just as much horror and embarrassment — he’d confessed too. With that same calm sincerity, he told you he’d felt the same way for a while.

Looking back, it was a little messy, maybe even a lot embarrassing. But it was also sweet, earnest, and so perfect for you two. And honestly? You wouldn’t change a thing. You had said something that clarified things for you.

After all, that drunken confession was the start of something that would make all the challenges of those days worth it, every late-night study session, every coffee-fueled conversation, every stolen moment in between. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.

You were falling for Kento more and more every day, and it was starting to feel like a problem. A big problem. How were you supposed to act normal around him when everything he did—from the way he fixed his tie to the way he said your name—made your heart do backflips?

It wasn’t fair, really. How was it possible that the same person who once laughed so hard he choked on a piece of rice during lunch was also the one making you reconsider your entire perception of love? He was your best friend, and now you couldn’t even look at him without overthinking every little thing.

And to make matters worse, he was visiting you today.

You had approximately 15 minutes to get your life together before Kento arrived, which was nowhere near enough time to deal with the tornado that was your dorm room or the emotional hurricane swirling inside you.

“Okay, okay, calm your tits.” you muttered to yourself, grabbing stray socks off the floor. “Just play it cool. It’s just Kento. You know him best. Real well. He’s been here a million times. No big deal. Totally normal.”

You shoved a pile of notebooks into your desk drawer, praying it wouldn’t jam, and quickly rearranged the pillows on your bed. By the time you heard the knock at your door, your dorm was passable, well barely. And you were mostly sure you didn’t look like a total disaster.

When you opened the door, there he was, Nanami Kento in all of his huge handsome stature, standing there with his usual calm demeanor, holding a bag of snacks. You yelped quietly as you looked at him. Your roommates must have let him inside. 

“Thought you might need these.” he said, giving you one of those small, knowing smiles that made your brain short-circuit.

You blinked at him. “Nanami Kento, are you a psychic?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No, but you texted me at 2 AM complaining about running out of your favorite chips, so I figured this might help. You still have some paperwork to do, right? And you won’t eat unless I come by to remind you. So, I got it.”

“Oh.” You tried to laugh, but it came out more like a nervous croak. “Right. Thanks. You’re, uh…you’re a hero.”

He stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the room. “Did a tornado hit your room? It was clean last time I came by.”

“What? No!” You crossed your arms defensively. “I cleaned! Mostly.”

Kento gave you a skeptical look before setting the bag of snacks on your desk. “If this is what ‘clean’ looks like to you, remind me never to see it messy.”

You threw a pillow at him, and he caught it effortlessly, smirking. “Careful. That’s my best throw pillow. If you damage it, I’ll charge you emotional damages.”

“Noted, little miss engineer.” he replied, setting the pillow down with exaggerated care. “What’s the rate for emotional damages these days?”

“Depends. How many snacks did you bring?”

“Enough to keep you from suing me.” He tells you with a grin. “Still have some in my car, just in case you wanted more.”

The two of you laughed, and for a moment, it felt like old times. A little bit easy, comfortable, effortless. But then, as Kento sat down on the edge of your bed, something in your chest tightened. How had this annoying, perfect, infuriatingly kind man become someone you couldn’t stop thinking about? Someone you don’t think you could live without?

He looked up at you, tilting his head slightly. “What’s with the staring? Do I have something on my face?”

“What? No!” You blinked rapidly, your cheeks heating. “I was just—uh—zoning out. Engineering stuff. Very complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right, right.” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Because I’m definitely not the one who helped you with that last project.”

“Details, details, Nanami Kento. Don’t get bogged down in the details.”

He chuckled, and the sound was so warm and familiar that you almost forgot why you were freaking out in the first place. Almost. Kento takes a moment. He then looks at you as though examining you with careful abandon. Kento wanted to take in the sight of you, after not seeing you for a while.

“You’re weird today, do you know that?” he said, leaning back slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, totally fine. Super fine.” You waved a hand dismissively. “Just tired, you know? Engineering. It’s a grind.”

Kento studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

Your stomach flipped, and you forced a laugh. “Who, me? No way. I’m like…a professional liar. Best in the business.”

“Uh-huh.” He hums back in retort.

He didn’t press further, but the way he looked at you. Everything about his caramel gaze was gentle, understanding, like he already knew what you weren’t saying. Everything about it, everything about him made your heart squeeze.

You sighed internally. How were you supposed to handle this? You couldn’t just blurt out, “Hey, Kento, I think I’m in love with you, and it’s driving me absolutely insane!”

But as he opened the bag of snacks and handed you your favorite, you couldn’t help but think maybe, just maybe, he already knew that you knew. And that maybe he knew that you felt deeply about him. You sighed. Maybe you’re just imagining it.

As the minutes ticked by, Kento made himself right at home in your dorm, sitting cross-legged on your bed and munching on the snacks he’d brought. Meanwhile, you had plopped into your desk chair, scrolling on your phone under the pretense of “taking a break.” 

But in reality, you were desperately trying to distract yourself from the way he looked way too good just casually existing in your space. How could he look that good even as a law major? How can he have time to make your heart feel like this?

As you flicked through your social media feed, you stumbled upon a post that made your stomach twist uncomfortably. It was a picture—Kento, smiling (smiling!) with a group of classmates, apparently from earlier that day. Some of them were girls. Really pretty girls. Those really pretty preppy law girls!

Your first thought was When does Kento even smile like that? He never smiles like that around me!

Your second thought was Who’s the one leaning so close to him? Is she, like, whispering in his ear or something?

You shot a quick, subtle glance at him. He was still on your bed, completely unaware of the emotional spiral you were going through. He crunched on a chip like it was the most normal day in the world.

“Did you have fun today?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Kento raised an eyebrow. “Uh…what?”

“Today. You were with…people from your department.” you said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

His brow furrowed toward you slightly. “I mean, yeah, I had a class project meeting. It was fine. Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” you said, voice a little too high-pitched. Fuck, you  were too obvious. You looked back at your phone, scrolling furiously to hide your face. “Just…wondering. Looked fun.”

“Wait.” Kento’s tone shifted. Suddenly you felt his gaze on you. “How do you know about that?”

Your heart dropped. “Uh, I saw it. Online. A picture. No big deal!”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. “Are you…jealous?”

“What?!” Your head whipped up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. “Me? Jealous? Of what? Why would I be jealous?”

Kento’s lips quivered into a rare, brat–like smirk, and you immediately knew you were in trouble. “No reason at all.” he said smoothly. “Just seems like you’re a little…interested in what I’m doing when I’m not here.”

“Interested? Pfft, no. I was just—just checking to make sure you’re not hanging out with the wrong crowd.” you stammered, flailing for a decent excuse. “You know, bad influences. Peer pressure. That sort of thing.”

“Right, I see.” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Because I’m the type to fall victim to peer pressure.”

“Well, I don’t know that part of your life right now!” you snapped, feeling your face heat up. “Maybe one of those girls was trying to…to make you join a pyramid scheme or something!”

Kento leaned back on your bed, folding his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying this far too much. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know.”

“I’m not hiding anything!” you shot back, spinning your chair around so you didn’t have to look at him.

There was a rustle of movement, and then suddenly, he was right behind you, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. You could feel your ears redden at the feeling of him. You squeaked, loud enough for him to hear.

“You’re really bad at lying, too. How come you haven’t evolved at lying? It’s been years and somehow, you’re still bad at it.” he said softly, his voice just teasing enough to make your heart race.

You spun around to face him, glaring. “Okay, fine! Maybe I was a little jealous. Are you happy now?”

Kento blinked, clearly surprised by your sudden outburst. But then, to your absolute horror, he started laughing—actual, full-on laughing. He hadn’t expected for you to just come out and say it like that. You were a prideful little flower, you always have been. 

“You’re laughing at me?!” you cried, swatting at his arm.

“I’m not laughing at you, you know.” he said, still chuckling. “I just didn’t think you’d actually admit it.”

“Well, I did!” You crossed your arms, trying to look annoyed even as your face burned. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Kento’s laughter softened into a small, fond smile, and for a moment, the teasing disappeared. He didn’t know how much he missed you until now. Somehow, the world seemed like it was in proper orbit when he’s with you like this.

“Nothing, nothing.” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Because you don’t need to be jealous. If I wanted to spend my time with anyone else, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting as he straightened up and walked back to the bed like he hadn’t just casually wrecked you with one sentence. You looked away, crossing your arms as though to shield yourself from him. But he could still see the redness of your ears.

“Well….” you muttered under your breath, plopping dramatically onto your desk. “Now I’m jealous of myself.”

Kento paused mid-bite of a chip and turned to you with an amused look. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” you said quickly, sitting up straight like you hadn’t just been caught having an existential crisis.

But of course, Kento being Kento, he wasn’t about to let it slide. “No, no, go ahead.” he said, his smirk returning as he leaned back against the headboard. “Explain how you’re jealous of yourself. This, I have to hear.”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Forget I said anything. It’s dumb.”

“I doubt that at all.” he replied, his tone annoyingly smug. “But fine, I’ll drop it. For now.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, only to find him watching you with a mix of amusement and something softer, something that made your heart flip all over again. You wanted to throw a pillow at him or maybe yourself—just to get rid of the growing warmth in your chest.

Instead, you grabbed the bag of chips from the desk and walked over to him, shoving it into his hands. “Here. Eat some of the snacks and stop psychoanalyzing me.”

“I wasn’t psychoanalyzing you.” he said, popping another chip into his mouth. “But you’re making it very tempting.”

“Unbelievable, Kento.” you muttered, plopping down onto the bed beside him. “This is why I can’t stand you sometimes, you know that?”

“Uh-huh.” He glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. “So much so that you admitted to being jealous of people spending time with me. Makes perfect sense.”

You huffed, grabbing a handful of chips just to give your hands something to do. “Okay, fine, you got me. I was a little jealous. Big deal. You’re my best friend. It’s normal to feel weird about you hanging out with other people, right?”

“Is it?” he asked, his voice teasing but his eyes studying you closely.

“Yes!” you said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Because we’re close. And I don’t like sharing, okay? You’ve known that since we met!”

“Hmm, hmm.” he said thoughtfully, leaning a little closer. “So what you’re saying is, you want me all to yourself?”

You choked on your chip, coughing violently as Kento sat back, looking far too pleased with himself. “You—ugh! Don’t say things like that!”

“Why not? I’m just repeating what you said to me.” he replied innocently.

“That is not what I said!”

“Sounded like it to me.”

You glared at him, your face burning. “You’re the worst.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, smiling slightly. “But I’m your worst.”

And just like that, you were done for. Completely, utterly done for. You threw a pillow at him once again. Because what else could you do to him like that? He wasn’t wrong. Sure enough, he caught it effortlessly, laughing rather softly as he set it down beside him.

“Stop overthinking about it.” he said after a moment, his tone quieter now. “I’m here because I want to be. No one else matters, okay?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” he said simply, reaching into the chip bag again like he hadn’t just made your heart implode for the second time that evening.

And you sat there, staring at him like an idiot, thinking that maybe, just maybe, falling for him wasn’t the worst thing in the world after all.

══════════════════

IT WAS ONE OF THE RARE OPPORTUNITIES WHERE YOU HAD A DAY OFF. So of course, you took the time to call Kento and ask him to hang out with you. And as usual, all he had said was that short, sure yes and nothing more.

He’d pick you up in thirty minutes, like usual. And of course, Nanami Kento was never late. If anything, he was always ten minutes early. He couldn’t have you waiting, after all.

The bar was warm and lively, filled with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. You and Kento had decided to spend your day off together, and while the original plan had been something low-key like a café or a bookstore, somehow you’d ended up here, nursing a drink and trying to act normal around him. 

He’d never been here before, but he saw it from across the road and if the cafe or bookstore was closed — an afternoon at a bar wasn’t going to be a bad idea for college kids wanting to have some adventure beyond the campus walls.

Normal. Just normal. Yeah, act like you do. Well, whatever normal looks like to you now.

You could only mentally sigh as your peripheral was only stuck on him more than usual.

As if that was possible when you were utterly, hopelessly in love with the man sitting across from you.

Kento, of course, looked effortlessly composed, like he always did—leaning back in his seat, one hand resting on the table, the other holding his drink. He wasn’t a flashy guy, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made it impossible not to stare. And you were staring. Again.

“You’re staring at me again.” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

“I am not!” you shot back, quickly taking a sip of your drink to cover up your flustered state.

“You’ve been doing it all evening.” he continued, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, no.” you muttered, feeling the heat creep up your neck. “I was just…zoning out. Thinking about…stuff.”

“Stuff. You sure….about stuff as an excuse?” he repeated, his tone skeptical.

“Yes, stuff.” you said firmly, glaring at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He chuckled softly, and you were both annoyed and utterly charmed by the sound. Why did he have to be so effortlessly perfect? It wasn’t fair. You hated how good he is at being everything you love. As you tried to regain your composure, a voice interrupted your thoughts. 

“Hey there, sweetie–pie.” a man said, sliding up to your table with a confident grin. “Mind if I join you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh…”

Before you could say anything else, the man pulled up a chair and sat down, clearly not waiting for permission. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. You felt disgusted by the way he looked at you. He wasn’t your type at all. And moreover, he’s creepy as hell.

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room.” he said smoothly. “You’ve got a great smile.”

“Um, thanks?” you said awkwardly, glancing at Kento.

Kento’s expression didn’t change much, but there was a subtle shift in his posture. He sat up a little straighter, his jaw tightening just slightly. Kento’s eyes were glaring hard enough that you could find those eyes were blades cutting you whole.

“So, what’s your name?” the guy asked, ignoring Kento entirely.

You opened your mouth to answer, but Kento beat you to it. 

“She’s not interested in you.” he said flatly, his voice calm but with an edge that made the guy pause.

The man glanced at Kento, raising an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Person she’s with.” Kento replied smoothly, though his tone made it clear that he wasn’t just a friend. “Who also happens to know she’s too polite to tell you to leave, so I’ll do it for her. What else are you waiting for? Leave.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was Kento…jealous?

The man hesitated for a moment, clearly debating whether to push back, but something about Kento’s steady gaze seemed to make him think twice. With a shrug, he stood up. He wasn’t going to get anything out of you. Lest he wants to get bitten by a tiger waiting to eat him. Well, at least he’s smart about that.

“Alright, alright. No need to get territorial.” He winked at you before walking away.

You shuddered at his wink.

Have men always been weird?

You shake it off quickly, drinking your pint.

You turned to Kento, your cheeks burning. “Territorial? Really?”

Kento shrugged, taking a sip of his drink like nothing had happened. “He was bothering you. I handled it.”

“I could’ve handled it myself, you know.” you said, crossing your arms.

“I’m sure you could’ve.” he replied, setting his glass down. “But I didn’t feel like watching you pretend to be polite to someone who clearly couldn’t take a hint.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe.” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “But at least you don’t have to deal with him anymore.”

You huffed, turning back to your drink. But as you took a sip, you couldn’t help but notice the way Kento’s gaze lingered on you, softer now, like he was trying to gauge your reaction. You drink your pint once again in some somber silence. 

“Was that really necessary?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes.” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You glanced at him, your heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again. “Why?”

Kento held your gaze for a long moment before replying. “Because I don’t like the idea of anyone else thinking they can have what’s mine.”

Your brain short-circuited. “W-what?”

He didn’t elaborate, just leaned back in his chair with that same calm composure, as if he hadn’t just wrecked your entire evening with one casual sentence. You stared at him, utterly flustered and more in love than ever, wondering how on earth you were supposed to survive the rest of the night without completely losing your mind.

For the rest of the night, Kento didn’t let you out of his sight. He was subtle about it at first—the way he leaned in whenever someone walked by, his hand resting casually on the back of your chair. But as the minutes passed, it became glaringly obvious: Kento was on high alert, and every glance from a stranger only made his protective aura grow stronger.

When a group of guys walked by your table and one dared to look at you a second too long, Kento’s hand dropped from the chair to your shoulder, the weight of it warm and grounding. He didn’t even glance at the guy, his focus entirely on you, but the message was clear: Don’t even try it. Back off.

You tried to act normal, but it was impossible. Sitting beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you were acutely aware of every little thing about him—the way his sleeves were rolled up just enough to show his forearms, the way his voice dropped into a lower register whenever he spoke to you.

“You’re quiet again.” he said, his voice low as he leaned a fraction closer.

“I’m fine, Kento. Really.” you mumbled, staring into your drink to avoid looking at him.

“Liar.” he murmured, his tone edged with amusement. “You’ve been squirming all night.”

“I have not!” you protested, but the way your voice cracked didn’t help your case.

Kento just smirked, and that was the last straw. You stood abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Not alone, you’re not.” he said immediately, rising from his seat with an ease that made you want to throw something.

“What, are you my bodyguard now?” you snapped, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his possessive tone.

“If that’s what it takes, then yes.” he said simply, his gaze steady and unyielding.

Before you could argue, he took your hand—firm, unrelenting—and led you toward the exit.

“Kento, the bathroom’s that way.” you pointed out, trying to tug your hand free.

“We’re leaving.” he said without looking back.

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Because I’m done watching people think they can look at you like you’re up for grabs.” he said, his voice calm but with an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your protests died in your throat. Nanami Kento rarely raised his voice or lost his composure, but there was something in his tone now. It was something raw and unmistakable. And every bit of it just left you speechless.

The car ride was silent, tension thick in the air. When he pulled into a quiet, empty lot, he turned off the engine and finally looked at you. His gaze was dark, intense, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Kento, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You.” he said, his tone low and rough. “You’re what’s going on. Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit there and pretend I’m okay with watching other people look at you like they have a chance?”

Your breath hitched. “I… I didn’t think you—”

“Didn’t think I’d care?” he interrupted, leaning closer. “Didn’t think I’d notice? God, you drive me insane, you know that?”

“Kento…”

“You’re mine.” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’ve always been mine. You always have been since we were kids. I just didn’t want to scare you off by saying it out loud again.”

Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “I— I….I know.” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I thought you wouldn’t say it again and I just…maybe with time passing… I thought I was the only one now.”

His lips curled into a dark, almost predatory smile. “You’re not. Never. Not when I’ve marked you since we met at that playground when we were kids.”

Before you could process his words, Kento leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was animalistic, it was wanton. It was full of possessiveness, claiming, as if he were branding the truth into you.

You matched his intensity, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, and any hesitation you’d felt earlier melted away, replaced by a burning need that had been building for far too long.

He broke away just long enough to murmur against your lips, “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” you whispered, your voice shaky but resolute.

“You belong with me.”

You looked at him with your doe like eyes. “I belong with you.”

“Good.” he growled, pulling you into his lap without hesitation. His hands gripped your waist firmly, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “Because I’m done holding back.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face as you whispered, “Then don’t.”

And he didn’t.

══════════════════

YOU DIDN’T EXPECT HIM TO BE THIS HUNGRY FOR YOU. But with the way he’s going at it. Kento has been hungry for you for a very long time. Kento’s lips linger, soft and insistent, as if savoring every inch of your skin.

The warmth of his breath trails higher, leaving behind a delicate ache where his mouth was. His hands rest firmly on your thighs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch.

“You’re trembling.” he murmurs, his voice a rich baritone, teasing but laced with tenderness. He looks up, his gaze heavy with desire, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he speaks. “Do I make you nervous?”

A shaky laugh escapes your lips, betraying your composure. “Not nervous... just—” Your words cut off as he presses another kiss, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

“Just what?” he asks, his tone low and deliberate, his lips curving into a smile against your skin. His hands slide upward, thumbs drawing small circles that make your heart race.

“Kento.” you breathe his name like a plea, your voice catching as he moves closer, the space between you charged with electricity.

The dim glow of the streetlamp filters through the windshield, casting golden lines across his sharp features. The intimacy of the confined space amplifies every touch, every sound between the two of you in these leather seats. The soft rustle of fabric, the quiet hum of his breathing, the slap of flesh against flesh.

“I love when you say my name like that, you know?” he says, voice dark and velvety. His mouth moves with purpose now, leaving faint marks of love on your skin, each one deliberate, each one staking his claim. “I love hearing it like that. Wanton f’r me.”

You gasp, your head falling back against the car seat, fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently. He groans at the sensation, the sound sending heat coursing through you. How has he ever been this good at getting under your skin?

“I want to hear more from you.” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a mix of command and yearning. His lips hover for a moment, teasing you with their proximity. “But only if you’re ready.”

Kento’s lips trail higher, each kiss softer yet more possessive, leaving warmth that lingers long after his mouth moves on. He pauses for a moment, his breath hot against your skin as his hands tighten slightly on your thighs, his thumbs stroking slow, deliberate circles.

“Don’t hold back your noises from me, okay?” he murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper that sends a shiver racing through you. He looks up, his golden-brown eyes locking with yours, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I want to hear you clearly.”

The command in his tone makes your pulse quicken. You bite your lip, but the sound escapes anyway, a soft, breathy whimper that only seems to spur him on. Kento’s touch made you feel as though a thousand flames were burning all at once.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” he says, his voice thick with satisfaction. His teeth graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and he chuckles darkly when your hips shift involuntarily toward him.

“Kento.” you gasp, your voice trembling with both restraint and longing.

“Hm?” he hums against your skin, the vibration sending a jolt straight through you. “I told you—no holding back.” 

His hands glide upward, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, anchoring you in place as his mouth continues its slow, maddening journey lower and lower. You could feel your lips mutter a weak groan against him. 

The dim light of the streetlamp catches the sheen of his messy blond hair, illuminating the faint smile on his lips as he drinks in every reaction you give him. The intimacy of the moment wraps around you both, the world outside the car fading entirely.

“Kento, please.” you whisper, your voice raw with need, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He pauses, his lips hovering just above your skin, his breath ghosting over you. He takes in the sight of you, almost as though a hunter to a prey. Nanami Kento is your hunter, he always has been. And he’s been keeping this inside him for way too long. This desire, for you. Only you.

“That’s what I wanted to hear from you.” he murmurs, his tone dark and full of promise, before pressing another kiss, softer this time, but no less consuming.

Kento’s words hang in the air, thick with authority and desire, as his lips return to your skin with renewed purpose. He’s slow, methodical, as if every kiss, every graze of his teeth is a language only he can speak—and you’re utterly fluent in his meaning.

“Such sweet sounds from you, hm?” he murmurs against your thigh, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through you. “Don’t hold them back from me. Let me hear what I do to you.”

Your breath hitches, a soft moan slipping past your lips, and the way his lips curl into a grin tells you he’s satisfied—but not done. His hands are firm but gentle as they slide further up your inner thighs, fingers brushing dangerously close to where you want him most. 

His touch sets your skin alight, the heat pooling low in your stomach as your chest rises and falls in uneven rhythm. You could feel his long fingers making their journey to that space, their cool touch melting you whole in a pleasurable moan.

“Kento.” you whisper, barely able to find your voice, your hands trembling as they clutch at the seat beneath you.

He glances up, his caramel eyes catching the faint glow of the streetlight streaming through the windshield, giving him an almost otherworldly allure. His gaze is dark, hungry, but there’s a softness there too. There was that endless reverence in the way he looks at you, as though you’re something precious.

“Yes, my love?” he asks, his voice laced with feigned innocence, though the smirk pulling at his lips betrays him. Your heart drummed at your new nickname from him. It was real. You were lovers. Doing what lovers do. “Tell me what you need. I want to hear it.”

You let out a shaky exhale, your fingers threading into the lower depths of sandy blond undercut for stability as much as desperation. Slowly, it trailed down on his neck, your touch sleuthing through him. Temptingly, almost like a wanting vixen.

“I need you… closer.” you admit, voice breaking, the vulnerability of the words making heat rise to your cheeks.

Kento hums in approval, the sound low and pleased at your words. He leans closer and his fingers echo deeper and deeper into you. Your head throws back hard against the leather’s pristine touch. He playfully moves inside. One moment in a circle. One moment a thrust. Over and over again, rinse and repeat, force and pleasure. And all you could do was surrender.

“Good girl of mine, my love.” he murmurs, his praise sending a wave of warmth coursing through you. 

That had surely made you even more wet inside. His lips press higher against your jaw, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He continues on and on. You don’t know where he learned it. How he got so good at knowing how to take you to paradise. BUt you could hardly care. You were focused on how deep his fingers were in you. 

“You’re so beautiful like this, my love.” he continues, his voice velvet against the charged air. His hands grip your thighs tighter, pulling them apart just enough for him to settle more firmly between them. “Completely undone for me.”

A sound escapes you, part moan, part plea, and his response is immediate. There was a broken groan deep in his chest as he nuzzled against you, the vibrations of his voice making your whole body tremble and shake as  he rushed more and more, in and out, with his masterful fingers.

“That’s it. Go on, my love.” he breathes, his voice dark, dripping with satisfaction. “Just let go for me, honey. No one else is here. Just us. Just me and the way you fall apart under my touch.”

The world outside the car feels impossibly distant now. The soft flicker of the streetlamp, the faint hum of passing cars. It’s all drowned out by the thrum of your heartbeat and the way Kento’s lips, and his fingers worship every part of you they touch, in and out.

“Kento, Kento.” you gasp again, your voice a desperate whisper.

His name on your lips seems to be his motivation, pushing more and more as his fingers tighten inside of you as he shifts closer, his movements becoming more deliberate, more consuming. You could only feel your tears rush in pleasurable waterfalls on your cheek.

“Say it again, my love.” he demands softly, his lips grazing the edge of your hip. “Say my name like that again.”

And when you do, your voice trembling and raw, and broken — he lets out a sound that’s pure need, his control slipping as he loses himself in you entirely. His fingers dug deeper and deeper until they couldn’t anymore. Your slick brushing through his fingers as he repeats it over and over again.

Kento’s name spills from your lips again, breathless and aching, and he growls softly against your skin. There was a sound that sent a ripple of heat straight to your core. You cry out loudly as you come undone on his touch, so hard that you see stars. 

“You’re trembling so much, my love.” he murmurs, his voice molten and rich. “Is it because of me, hm?”

His fingers slowly exit through your crevices, slick and full of you. He looks satisfied with the mess he made of you. It doesn’t matter if you pool your pleasure on his leather seats. The sight was satisfying to look at. Because you’re his. And this was proof.

Your answer is a shaky exhale, your head falling back against the seat as your hazy gaze saw him slowly eat at the slick of your pleasure. You had just come undone from his touch and now you could feel yourself wanting more. You were wanton for more. Only he could make you feel this way.

“Words in full, my love.” he coaxes, his tone teasing but firm. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Kento.” you admit, voice breaking as you finally surrender to his command. “It’s you—only you.It’s always been you.”

And with that, he kisses you as he finds himself wanting more of you, as much as you wanted more of him. You gave him everything, and he gave you everything. You wanted to be whole, consumed by the existence of the other.

The air thickens with desire as his touch shifts from lingering to deliberate, the rhythm between you growing more urgent.  You brace yourself, your body trembling in anticipation, and then, with a careful, controlled movement, he enters you. 

A sharp inhale catches in your throat, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. You gasp, every inch of him stretching you, pushing you to the edge of something deeper, something more consuming. Your body trembles in the wholeness of him. 

He began to move at a slow pace and then soon enough, with that eager speed. Your legs crossed against his back, and your arms crossed against his shoulders. You could only hold on for dear life as he pushes in and out of you in a pace that took your breath away.

Every inch of him stretches you, each motion slow yet intentional, designed to leave you breathless, wanting more. Kento’s gaze never leaves yours, intense and searching, as though he’s reading the unspoken desires written in the way your body responds. The heat between you builds steadily, a slow burn that makes your pulse quicken, your limbs aching with the need to surrender to him entirely.

Everything felt so good.

He made you feel good.

Only he could do it like this.

"Are you okay?" His voice is low, almost reverent, as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. 

There’s a softness in his caramel eyes, a tenderness beneath the storm of desire that mirrors the vulnerability you feel. His breath is heavy, and yet there’s a careful concern in his touch, as if he's trying to read you, to make sure you're ready for what comes next.

You nod, but words fail you, the overwhelming sensations clouding your ability to speak. Every inch of your being is attuned to him now, to the heat of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing. 

You inhale deeply, trying to steady yourself, yet all that fills your senses is him. The scent of him, the taste of his skin, the press of his chest against yours. Your slick blending against his own. It was all consuming. How you both fit together. How you were made for each other.

"More, Kento." you whisper, the word barely audible but laced with desperation. It’s not just a plea. No, you were saying it as it is. “Faster.”

You needed him. Every bit of him, every part of him. You wanted it all. The craving in your voice is clear, raw, and unfiltered. The desire that had been simmering between you both is now an undeniable force, impossible to resist.

His lips curl into a small, knowing smile, and something in his gaze shifts, darkens. Without breaking eye contact, he presses forward again, moving with an intensity that speaks of his own growing hunger. His movements are deliberate and calculated, even with the speed he was going at. 

It was as if  he was savoring every inch, every moment with you. Each stroke is measured, calculated, and yet there's an undercurrent of urgency, as though he's trying to pull you deeper into him, deeper into this shared space where only the two of you exist.

His gaze is intense, a silent communication passing between you both. It's not just about the way he moves or the way he touches you. Everything about it felt like magic. It's how he reads every subtle shift in your body, every small intake of breath, every whisper of need. 

He’s attuned to you in a way that goes beyond words, understanding the unspoken pleas you can't voice. It’s like he knows you better than you do yourself. It’s like he’s memorized every part of you. He just knew how to love you whole, completely.

You cried out as he hit that pleasure spot, in and out. The car windows were fogging up with the hot breath echoing out of your lips over and over again. You were certain that just as much, people had noticed the car shaking and rearing with activity at the stop. It was too obvious to see.

The heat between you builds steadily, a slow burn that makes your pulse race, that quickens the rhythm of your heart. You feel it in the way your body responds, how the pressure inside you grows with every shift, every stroke, until it feels like the world is narrowing down to just the two of you. You both were lost in this rhythm of connection, of craving, of surrender. This was all that there was, this universe of you, together.

Your body aches with the need to give in completely, to let him take you fully, to become lost in the feeling of him, of the shared moment. He looked at you and leaned forward, letting his lips take yours. His tongue pushes through against your own in a delicious melee of pleasure. You hummed against his lips as his thrusts got deeper, faster. More desperate. 

When he parts from you to gather air in his lungs, he slows for a bit and pulls out, earning a whine. But then in a steady shock, he pushes back in, his hands straying to your back, pulling you closer to him. It was as though he wanted you to melt and blend with his flesh. To become one. He thrusts deeper and deeper, harsher than before. You cry out against his ear. 

"Let go, my love." he murmurs, his voice a low, breathy whisper against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I’ve got you." 

There’s an assurance in his words, a promise that you can surrender, that he’ll be there to catch you, to guide you through whatever comes next. And with those words, everything inside you snaps. The tension, the anticipation, the desire. 

Everything unravels in a wave of release, a deep, consuming surrender. You cry out so loud that you think that you were gasping for air for the first time. Nanami Kento hit on your body with a harsh desire last time and felt his own hot pleasure flow through you with a loud roar.

Your body trembles beneath his touch as you lose yourself in him, the rhythm of his movements pulling you deeper into the moment, into the raw intensity of it all. Your grip on him tightens involuntarily, fingers digging into the hardness of his skin, anchoring yourself to the sensation of him. 

Each breath comes quicker, more erratic, as you struggle to keep up with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your eyes flutter closed, and a few tears escape, blurring your vision. But the tears are not from pain. They are from the overwhelming satisfaction, the complete surrender of everything you’d been holding back.

For a moment, you can’t see anything, your body entirely consumed by the sensations coursing through you. It’s like you’ve been plunged into a haze, where nothing exists but the pulse of his touch, the heat of his body against yours. You feel your senses heighten, every movement, every sound reverberating inside you, making your heart race.

And then, slowly, your sight begins to return. Everything is foggy, distorted at first, the edges of the world softened by the force of your pleasure. But as the fog clears, everything sharpens, every detail comes into focus. 

And in that moment, it feels like you’ve stepped into something infinite. The universe itself is laid bare before you, and standing at the center of it all, consumed by the same overwhelming force, is him. Everything felt like enlightenment. Life started here.

Kento’s eyes are locked onto yours, dark and intense, holding you captive with every glance, every word unspoken. His face, usually so composed, is now etched with a mixture of hunger and satisfaction, his own breath coming in ragged pulls. You are drawn to him, to the way he fills every corner of your mind, your heart, your body.

"You're... breathtaking, my love." he murmurs, his voice rough, barely audible as he moves against you, his hands cradling your face gently. "So beautiful, at this moment."

The words make your heart ache, the vulnerability in his tone striking you deeply. Your gaze never wavers from his, even as the pleasure inside you begins to coil again, threatening to pull you under once more. It’s not just his touch, not just the way he moves inside you. It’s the way he sees you, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only one who matters in the world.

"You’re mine. You always will be." you whisper, your voice trembling with the truth of it. The words come from somewhere deep, primal, raw. You don’t even know where they’ve come from, only that they’re true. 

“Am I really?” He snickers, pecking at your jaw with small peppering kisses with exhaustion.

You nodded shyly, smiling at him. "I need you... like this. Always."

Kento smiles at your confession. His grip tightens around you, his lips pressing against your forehead in a soft kiss, almost reverent. For a moment, it was like he’d fallen in love with you again for the very first time again.

"And you have me, my love." he responds, his voice low and full of promise. "All of me. Always."

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Chef!Mydei hates sweet things. Cakes, candy, anything with too much sugar—it all makes him sick. He won’t even taste the desserts he makes, just goes off instinct and technique. People always ask if he’s crazy, being a chef who refuses to eat sweets, but he doesn’t care. He says they’re too much, too sticky, too overwhelming. He hates the way sugar lingers on his tongue, how it coats his mouth in something artificial and cloying. Nothing about it appeals to him.

But your pussy? That’s different. That’s the one sweet thing he’ll never turn down. He loves the way you taste, warm and wet on his tongue, nothing like the sugar he despises. He’ll eat you out for as long as you let him, licking you up like you’re the only thing worth savoring. He groans against your clit, gripping your thighs, completely obsessed with the way you drip for him. And when you wear lip gloss, it drives him fucking crazy. Watching your slick, shiny lips wrap around his cock makes him lose his mind. He grips your chin, his thumb smearing the gloss as he pulls you in for a kiss, tasting both you and the sweet tint of whatever flavor you put on.

He swears he hates sweets, but when it comes to you, he’s a liar. He can’t get enough—of your lips, your mouth, your pussy. He’ll ruin you over and over, until you’re shaking under him, until your gloss is smeared and your thighs are sticky with his cum. You’re the only thing he’ll ever indulge in, the only sweetness he’ll take his time with.

Mydei watches you from across the counter, arms crossed, eyes dark. His lip curls in disgust as he shoves a plate of pastries aside. “Too fucking sweet,” he mutters, wiping his hands on his apron like he can’t stand the thought of sugar clinging to his skin. “Shit like this makes my teeth hurt.”

You giggle, popping a piece of candy into your mouth, making a show of sucking on it before pulling it back out with a wet pop. “So dramatic,” you tease, licking your lips, your gloss shining under the kitchen lights. “Guess that means you don’t wanna taste me either, huh?”

That gets him. His jaw tightens, and in a second, he’s on you—gripping your hips, pressing you back against the counter. “Don’t start shit you can’t handle,” he warns, voice low, but you can feel how hard he already is against your thigh. His fingers slide under your skirt, pushing your panties aside, feeling how wet you are just from teasing him. “This—” he groans, dragging his fingers through your slick, bringing them up to his lips, “—this is the only sweet thing I fucking need.”

Your breath hitches when he sinks to his knees, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. “Better than any dessert,” he murmurs before burying his face between your thighs, licking into you like he’s been starving for it. His tongue is messy, desperate, groaning every time you tug at his hair.

When he finally pulls away, his lips are glossy—slick with your wetness instead of the sticky lip gloss that’s smeared across your mouth. He smirks, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. “Fuck your candy,” he says, voice thick with need. “I’d rather eat you all night.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Snow Angels | S.Coups

❄️ Pairing: Dad!Choi Seungcheol x Mum!Reader ❄️ Requested by: Anon ❄️ Synopsis: Prompt 10 - Y//N and Seungcheol take their kids outside to make a snowman and snow angels ❄️ Word Count: 999 ❄️ Warnings: None. Sorry this was late, I've been sick with a migraine. ❄️ Taglist: Open. I am renewing my tag lists for 2025. Please read this post if you want to stay on them- tag list renewal (dec 01-31 2024).

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

“Eomma! Eomma! Eomma!” Seungcheol and Y/N’s oldest son chants excitedly as she rushes into the kitchen where Y/N is making breakfast for the family of five. “It snowed again last night!” he informs her. The first thing he did after waking up was look out the window. Seungcheol had told him they were expecting another snow fall over night and promised him they’d spend time making snowmen and snow angels with his younger brother and sister. “There’s so much more snow out there!” the 8-year-old let’s her know. 

“Really?” Y/N asks, pretending to be surprised. “I guess that means you’ll have a lot more snow for your snowman.” 

He nods his head, before putting on the same pout his father uses for various reasons. “But more snow means I have to look harder for rocks to use as the eyes and mouth.” 

“Check the bowl on the table,” Y/N tells him nodding towards the bowl that sits near the end of the table, closest to the door. "Appa went out and found some last night." 

"Can we go build a snowman now?" Seung-han excitedly asks, seeing the small rocks in the bowl. 

"Let's have breakfast first," Y/N tells him. "Then we can get ready and go outside to make a snowman." 

"I thought we were decorating the Christmas Tree first," Seungcheol says walking into the kitchen, carrying their 2-year-old daughter, Nari, with their second son, 6-year-old Ye-jun trailing behind them. They were a little late to getting the christmas tree decorated. It had been sitting bare in the corner of their living room for a good two weeks. Between their busy schedules and school functions, they hadn't had time until now. Both Y/N and Seungcheol have a weekend off and thought it would be fun activity to do as a family. 

“But I want to build a snowman,” Seung-han insists, pouting once more. “We can always build a snowman after we decorate the tree,” Seungcheol suggests, gently placing Nari in her chair and helping Ye-jun into his.  

“Snowman first,” Seung-han argues, trying to convince his father. His younger siblings quickly echo his words leaving no room for argument. 

Seungcheol mirrors his sons pout as he walks over to his wife, pecking her lips before bowing down to place a kiss on her rounded belly where their fourth (and final) child, another boy, is growing. 

"We can always decorate the tree later," Y/N assures her husband. "It'll be nice to do once we're all warmed up from being in the snow," she continues before lowering her voice, "It won't be long until they get cold and bored and want to come back inside." 

"Snowman first, it is," Seungcheol concedes, earning cheers from all three of his children, even though he suspects Nari, the daddy's girl, is just going along with her older brothers. 

Once breakfast is ready, Seungcheol helps Y/N set the table. "Make sure to eat all your food, or I might change my mind and we’ll do the Christmas tree first," he warns the kids as he places their bowls in front of them. 

After they finish breakfast, Seungcheol does the dishes and then helps Y/N get their children wrapped up warm in coats, scarves and gloves before heading outside to play in the snow. As soon as they're outside, Seung-han is making snowballs to make the snowman with Seungcheol's help while Ye-jun and Nari flop onto the ground, waving their arms and legs, leaving behind perfect imprints in the soft snow. Nari, her cheeks flushed from the cold, gets up and admires her creation, her eyes wide with joy as Ye-jun goes to help his father and older brother in making a snowman. 

"Look Eomma, it's Uncle Hannie!" Nari says, standing up and pointing to the snow angel she made. "Take a photo!" 

Y/N chuckles at Nari's enthusiasm, her cheeks flushed from the snow as she stands proudly beside her creation that reminds her of her favourite uncle and godfather.  

"Alright, my little princess," she replies, pulling out her phone. She makes sure to get the perfect angle, making sure to include Nari's beaming smile and the outline of her snow angel in the frame. Y/N takes a couple photos, sending one to Jeonghan with the caption 'It's Uncle Hannie – Nari.' 

Seungcheol, still kneeling beside Seung-han as they make the base for their snowman, glances over at Y/N and Nari, his heart swelling with pride and love. He lives for these carefree moments, seeing his wife and children happy. He finishes packing a snowball and tosses it playfully at Seung-han, who squeals in surprise and retaliates with a snowball of his own. He laughs, dodging the incoming snowball. The playful banter quickly escalates into a full-blown snowball fight, all three kids against their dad. Y/N watches, her heart full. 

After a while, the snowball fight winds down, and the children, breathless and giggling, collapse into a heap in the snow. Seungcheol joins them, lying back and making his own snow angel, much to the delight of the kids. 

“Okay, everyone! We should get back to making the snowman!” Seungcheol suggests. They begin rolling large snowballs, working together to stack them on top of each other. Seungcheol helps them, lifting the large snowballs with ease and placing it carefully on top of the bottom one.  

“Now for the face!” Seung-han declares, running off to get the bowl of rocks that Seungcheol had connected the night before. Nari and Ye-jun follow suit, their little hands searching for the perfect items to give their snowman personality. Seungcheol takes off his scarf placing it around the snowman's neck. 

Once the snowman is complete, Y/N makes them crowd around their creation and takes some photos on her phone, wanting to capture the moment forever. 

“Can we go inside now?” Seung-han asks, starting to shiver from the cold, his teeth chattering slightly. 

Seungcheol agrees ushering his growing family back inside so they can get warmed up before they start decorating the Christmas tree.

I am renewing my tag list for 2025. If you want to remain on my tag list (or join) you can fill out my Tag List Form

taglist (haven't renewed so far): @do-you-remember-summer-127 - @catzachvsvt - @lemur46 - @ateez-atiny380 - @lovrehani

@lixisoul99

Already renewed for 2025 (don't need to fill out the form again):

@carattinymoa - @forever-atiny - @choppedballoondetective - @rainyday-daydreamer - @ultrapinkvoidbouquet

@reiofsuns2001 - @alexxavicry - @hollxe1 - @bookswillfindyouaway - @shuaserendipity95

@http-gyu - @astuteataraxy - @everythingboutkpop -

[dizzyduck44]

McLaren’s mistreatment of Oscar Piastri

So before the 2025 season gets under way let’s discuss one of the most controversial and polarising topics in F1, Oscar Piastri and McLaren.

I have been a McLaren fan for decades and can agree that the two number one drivers have pretty much always been a thing at McLaren. Senna/Prost, Alonso/Hamilton, Hamilton/Button, Sainz/Norris, Norris/Ricciardo (I refuse to put Hakkinen/Coulthard in that list due to Ron Dennis’ obvious bias). So the concept is not new to the team.

What is new is what they are trying to do.

You see in almost every pairing I have listed, there was an elder statesmen of the team, a world champion, a veteran of the sport. The current McLaren has been built on the foundations of two incredibly talented junior drivers they hope to mould into world champions.

In Lando, he is home grown, literally. Nearly a decade on the team in one form or another, served an apprenticeship with them, he is the driver McLaren built.

Oscar is the driver that McLaren bought. And I’m not sure they read all the small print!

Firstly from Oscar’s perspective McLaren was the glass slipper. Alpine was in chaos, McLaren were offering him a spot on the grid and seeing the time, care and attention they had given to develop Lando, for a young driver, could you ask for anything more?

If McLaren were looking for a compliant teammate who would have the McLaren team ethos, maybe the first warning should have been Oscar was deserting the team that paid for his junior categories and he was ousting his countryman at the team to get on to the grid. Oscar or his team would get what they wanted at all costs.

Then we have to look at Oscar’s junior career. F3 and F2 championships back to back, it sounds so impressive. Only 4 men have ever done it. However, if you were Charles LeClerc, George Russell or Gabriel Bortoleto, the field you beat along the way was super impressive. Packed full of successful F1 drivers, Formula E World Champions and regular Indycar drivers. Oscar didn’t really have the same challenges. In fact by the looks of it the only driver you would single out is Liam Lawson. Logan Sargent was his F3 vice champion and he sadly drowned in F1. Oscar was a big fish in a small pond. Honestly he should have won with the talent he was showing, otherwise F1 was a none starter. (Oscar himself admitted Baku 2024 was “the toughest race of his career”, probably the first time he had ever been tested to that level).

By comparison Lando had been a medium fish in an ocean. He had the wins behind him, he had spent his life competing against and beating Mick Schumacher, Callum Ilott, Zhou Ghanyu and he advanced past them, just to be up against George, Alex Albon and Nyck De Vries. However, he held his own in Daytona against Fernando Alonso, so he was well aware of the challenge ahead.

First season for Oscar and I refuse to heap too much criticism on a rookie. His tyre management of was an issue BUT the thing that in hindsight was a problem was his love of a lunge into the first corner. Carlos Sainz put it down to “rookie enthusiasm” in Spa, but sadly that wasn’t the case. This was Oscar’s “thing”.

What amazed me was McLaren said nothing to him. Zak who has once said Lando’s greatest strength was the maturity to know you can loose it all in the first corner, and even if you make a mistake you don’t have to rectify it in the second corner, was letting this go unchecked by Oscar.

So we rock into 2024 and boy was the situation about to get worse for everyone involved.

Earlier in the season I was one of the people who was highlighting Oscar’s new trend to go into the first corner and never give his teammate room. And guess what? His teammate did what the team needed to get both cars to the end of the race, and yielded. However I remember by May/June I was screaming blue murder about this, that Lando’s reputation for messing up the first corner was a byproduct of his teammate, and that if Oscar did that too anyone else, they weren’t going to be as kind to him!

Then there was his little habit of doing a bit of mid quali, mid race rallying. Generally the quickest way round the track was on the grey stuff, but I heard this little quirk, as one Aussie coin it, “Oscar is playing in the rocks again!”.

By the time we got to Hungary my patience with the “babying” of Oscar was near its end. That race tipped my opinion of Oscar and McLaren forever.

My argument has NEVER changed. Again we had a first corner lunge, but then after the pitstop, Oscar dropped 7 seconds behind Lando. And it’s the WHY that angers me. Lando’s pitstop was to undercut Hamilton. He had been asked to push to give the team as much of an advantage as possible. Catching Oscar, Oscar went off track costing him time. Lando pitted and there was still enough time for Oscar to come in, pit, get out, (even if behind Lando) with plenty of time to do an easy swap with both McLarens comfortably down the road.

What ACTUALLY happened, is Oscar came in overshooting his pit slightly (costing time), left the pits and almost immediately went off track again (costing more time). With dirty tyres Lewis was able to catch him up and pressure the hell out of him.

Meanwhile Lando was on plan A, get away from Hamilton and do an easy swap with no risk of losing a place to Lewis. Erm well slight problem, Oscar has made that near impossible now. But all Oscar had to do was catch Lando up. To this day, on fresher tyres, same car and clean air, I don’t know how Oscar couldn’t catch Lando.

Now in the real world of F1. If you are 7 seconds behind the leader and you are there through your own errors, the race is gone. No driver is slowing down 7 seconds for you to catch them up because you were doing really well up to that point! It’s a tough lesson to learn, but it builds character and teaches you to learn from your errors. BUT on that day McLaren chose not to give that lesson. They demanded and bullied Lando to slow down to give Oscar the win.

What exactly did Oscar learn that day? First corner lunges are good? Dont worry, the team will gloss over your mistakes and give you what you want? Whatever Oscar learnt that day it nearly cost them the constructors championship.

As we moved to Monza McLaren should, by their own admissions, have made it clear what they expected. Sadly they all expected Oscar to “know” how they wanted him to behave when they had never once prior called him out on his flawed behaviour. So at turn 3, not even turn 1 this time, he lunged his teammate, nearly sending him out the race, to take the lead.

We know now, courtesy of Drive to Survive, the pitwall were instantly pissed as that had compromised their whole race. On reflection Oscar knew it was the wrong thing to do. Yet had McLaren addressed this behaviour, that had been building all season, earlier, Oscar would “know” what to do. Would see that ensuring you end the race in the best position is worth more than lap 1 glory. McLaren were just letting him develop bad habit after bad habit.

As McLaren gave priority to Lando I genuinely saw one Piastri fan claim this “was not fair to Oscar’s feelings” (can I point out, not a female either). In F1 there is one champion and Lando had earned his right to priority. All those little things, McLaren had never raised with Oscar or glossed over were costing him. If your feelings getting hurt is an important factor in how you perform, maybe F1 is not the right place for you.

Then the chickens came home to roost. In Brazil he crashed into Lawson in a clumsy overtake and gained himself a 10 second penalty and then Abu Dhabi happened. And if you’ve read this far you know why this post was so long. Constructors Championship critical. McLaren’s failing nearly cost them everything.

First corner, he kept his line, as previously Lando had just got out his way. However this time it wasn’t Lando, it was Max, doing to Oscar what Oscar had done to Lando all year, (hell Max had done it to Lando in Austria and Austin), and guess what? Inevitably they hit each other and spun. In a race where it was essential for the team to gain as many points as possible over Ferrari, Oscar had gone from 2nd to last!

Then in his need to make up for the first corner he lunged Colapinto, hit him and got a 10 second penalty. Then to complete his greatest hits collection he lost it completely behind Tsunoda and not so much went to play in the rocks more wiggled towards a wall at high speed.

Had any of those three things resulted in a Ferrari championship, was it totally Oscar at fault? Or the complete unwillingness and seeming inability of McLaren to hold Oscar accountable for his little quirks and habits over the last two years? For McLaren seemingly rewarding errors rather than saying, listen this is the pinnacle, you want the win, you need to work on here, here and here.

Because here is the flip side of this. We hear Lando every season pinpoint exactly where his improvements and gains need to come from. And I can only assume that is being lead in part by McLaren. So WHY does Oscar not appear to either be getting the same treatment OR is choosing not to work on them?

So as we go into a season where we already know the McLaren has rear end instability, which given his traits, not great for Oscar, is McLaren doing Oscar a disservice by NOT being real with him OR is there someone in team Oscar who thinks they know better and is trying to throw their weight around? If it’s the latter, you know what would really help with that? Working on the areas that need it and getting the better quali positions and race results.

Because the long and short of this is, if we have a third season of Lando destroying him in quali and the same mistakes leading to points lost, the question has to be, is McLaren’s approach with Oscar really helping him, or holding him back? Will a day in July 2024 in Budapest be the moment that could have been the failing that fired a champion on, or becomes the point we look back at where it all started to go a bit wrong.

[itsrlymine]

hey baby!!! hope youre having a lovely day. I absolutely adore ur account, even though ive been into spirituality for a long time, i finally understood manifestation in my own way in december 2024 when i found ur account while browsing tumblr 😭😭😭😭

ur posts have been such a massive help, there is no way i could describe it oml, i want u to know that you were someone who helped me so much with everything. recently, ive encountered resistances, and obviously, theyre gone now, and in a way, i (usually) came across a particular post as a reminder to myself that manifestation is as simple as drinking water. since i understood manifestation in my way thanks to you, ive realised that the playlist (which i left in mid-2023) with the audios that supposedly didnt work, only didnt work because i doubted myself so much and was being SO negative. clearly, im using a different one now, and ive also gone through details of my life this 2025 (in a doc) because i absolutely adore writing, however, everything has been happening so fast and its still hard to accept that everything is so real, but it really is!!! things as unreal as having an identical feature of someone in my face, an aura, body changes, environment, moving, making 80% of my classmates leave and new ones coming (lol), parties, rich suitors and flings, among many other things ive manifested. cause im "changing" my mindset, i found that i like saturation, and for fun, i started doing it to get ("") curls in my hair from birth, i wanted it to take a week bc i dont like when everything happens instantly for some reason: now guess whos got super curly hair now. i also changed its natural colour, now the blonde stands out loads. ngl, im still some insecure abt specific things, but then i remember some of ur quotes and i immediately change my perception, the "nothing is hard, nothing is difficult, its just done" made a HARDDD click on my mind, being so frrr.

anyway, youve been a source of trust and deep learning for me, though it sounds weird, i just want to thank u so damn fucking much, my love!!! i love your posts forever, thank u<3 sending love

🇧🇷

omgg hey babe!!! i'm so happy that my page has been able to be of some help to you my love. exactly!!!!! nothing is hard, nothing is difficult, it's just done!! seriously there's nothing impossible or hard. there's so many things we can "bring" into our experience ans we need to take advantage of that. keep updating us my love, i'm so happy for youuuu.

[goldenkiwistyles]

End of time CS55

Carlos sainz x best friend!reader

warnings: google translate.

Part 2.

Liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 4634 others.

yn: Can't believe my best friend is now an old man! Happy birthday cabrón. Love you 💗

comments:

carlossainz55: Thanks chica. Love you too I guess 🙄

carlossainz55: Also who are you calling old? Its your birthday to. ^yn: Yeah but your older than me 😁

^carlossainz55: By a few hours!!

user1: The banter between these two is so sweet. You'd think there siblings.

^user2: I mean they have been friends since they were two.

Liked by yn, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt and 5483 others.

carlossainz55: Happy birthday to my partner in crime! Love you lots preciosa. X

Comments:

yn: you really mugged me off, Also you know I hate being called precious.🖕

^carlossainz55: It annoys you so I like it preciosa.

Alexandrasaintmleux: Happy birthday gorg. X

user 1: Seriously they should get together.

Liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 5450 others.

yn: Camera roll recently <3

Comments:

yn: I'm still not over Mexico 😭

user1: The third pic 👀

user2: seriously they are so cute together!

user3: They need to start dating!!!

Liked by yn, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrai and 5864 others.

carlossainz55: What a year. addio Ferrari, mi mancherai. Bring on 2025.

Comments:

yn: ❤️❤️

scuderiaferrai: addio Carlos.

user1: NOOOOOOOOO

user2: Charlos divorce is here 😭

user3: and with that the 2024 season comes to an end.

Liked by carlossainz55, user 1, user2 and 6058 others.

yn: 2024 over and out. <3

comments:

User1: OMG THERE TOGETHER!!!

User2: Holy shit what a way to end the year.

carlossainz55: Te amo preciosa. xx

^yn: Love you too. xx

^yn: Still hate being called precious.

[amateurvoltaire]

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.

[jjjjeonww]

hong joshua - "Dear, Diary. Damn my academic rival."

genre - romance! ~~in which you've seen joshua as your academic rival for years, but lets see how he sees you in his perspective. (just wanted to switch it up a bit heh) a/n: this is a little thank you for 108 followers hehe<3!! also, this is a fic requested by the one and only, @hanniescookie! you keep coming up with amazing ideas and requests my angel, and im always happy and always honoured to complete them and be the person who receives them <3 ( @wonkierideul, here's your tag my lovie! you've had a tiring day, take a break and rest up. a junhui fic will be coming soon, just for you🤍)

(remember, this is all in joshua's pov!) 28th December 2024 Dear Diary, Today I felt so stupid. Why? I couldn't take my eyes off Y/n as she pored over the latest batch of data, her brows were furrowed in concentration. The flickering lamplight casted shadows across her face, it highlighted the curve of her cheekbones. Honestly, to me, Y/n was a vision of focus and intellect, a force to be reckoned with. And damn if she didn't look gorgeous in the process.

When she glanced up and caught me staring, a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It was a rare sight, that smile... but it was all the more devastating for its infrequency. I felt my heart stutter in my chest, my breath hitched slightly as I drank in the sight of her.

"You've got that look again," I said. I have no idea how, or why my voice came out more huskily than I intended. I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. "Like when Tom thinks he can finally eat Jerry. What are you so smug about?"

I saw her smile widening, a glint of mischief appeared in her eyes. "I'm not smug," she said, and I know I heard the stupid note of false innocence in her tone. "I'm just...satisfied with my progress." Note by Joshua: (As if she could do any better than me. Well, she did do better than me this time. Won't let it happen the next!)

5th January 2025 Dear Diary, Today we got our test results. Obviously I looked around to find Y/n and to see her reaction to her grade, only to find her right next to me, holding up her test results, the paper rustled softly in her hand. I leaned forward to see, my glasses slipping down my nose as I squinted at the numbers. My jaw clenched as I took in the scores - hers were higher than mine, by a margin that made my gut twist with reluctant admiration.

"What?" I scoffed, pushing my glasses back up. "You've beaten me again?" I leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms over my chest. "Damn you Y/n. Next time... don't get too comfortable. I'm not going to let you stay ahead for long." Her smile turned into a full-blown grin, those eyes... they sparkled with that familiar competitive fire. "I wouldn't expect anything less," she said, a note of challenge in her voice. "But don't worry, Joshua. I have no intention of making this easy for you. I want to see you push yourself, to reach for even greater heights."

I felt a surge of determination, a fierce need to prove myself and rise to her challenge. But beneath that, I felt something else, something softer and more intense. A longing to see that smile on her face again and to keep this fire alive. Note by Joshua: (I guess I got another longing; For her to stop calling me by my name and instead call me 'hers'. And I'm cringing at my own joke haha! until next time diary!) 13th January 2025 Dear Diary, The days have turned into weeks, and my isolation and forced collaboration with Y/n only seemed to intensify the charged atmosphere between us. We clashed over theories and methods, our voices raised in heated debate as we paced the confines of the cabin. The air grew thick with tension, but it was a different kind of tension than before. There was an undercurrent of something else, something that made my skin prickle and my heart race.

Note by Joshua: (Today's note of 'love' was a short one. Guess our isolation was bigger than our forced proximity.) 27th January 2025 Dear Diary, Something happened this evening. As I was reviewing our notes by the flickering fireplace, I glanced up to see Y/n staring at the flames, a distant look on her face. She looked gorgeous in the firefight, shadows dancing across her delicate features and highlighting the curve of her lips. I found myself wondering what she was thinking about, what dreams or fantasies played behind those captivating eyes.

"You know," I said softly, to me, my voice was barely audible over the crackling of the flames, "sometimes I wonder what goes on in that brilliant mind of yours."

And she turned to face me, a small smile played at the corners of her mouth. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

I felt a smirk tug at my own lips, a hint of playfulness entering my voice. "I think about it more than I should," I admitted, my gaze locked with hers. "Especially when you look at me like that."

Her smile widened, a soft blush coloured her cheeks. "Like what?" she asked, a note of innocence in her voice belied by the heat in her eyes.

I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, my eyes never leaving hers. "Like you're trying to figure me out," I murmured. "Like you're seeing right through me, past all the bravado and the competition, to the heart of who I am."

I watched how her breath hitched, and how she swallowed hard. "Maybe I am," she whispered, her voice was barely audible. "Maybe I want to know what makes you tick, Joshua. What drives you, what you dream about, what you...want."

I felt my heart pound in my chest, a fierce longing surging through me. I wanted to tell her everything, to lay bare the secrets of my soul and hope that she would do the same. But I held back, I didn't want to scare her off. Note by Joshua: (Maybe next time, we'll see what'll unfold for me and Y/n. But hey, at least today's 'love' note was a long one right?)

[cc-human]

Driver’s Vlog- Day 1

Pairing: Various 2025 F1 x Red Bull Driver! reader

Warnings: Swearing, and this is my first fic so potential bad writing 😔

✨In this fic reader will be replacing Liam Lawson in the Red Bull Seat (apologies Liam fans 😔)! And have been with Red Bull since the start of 2024!

✨I’ve left the gender of reader up to people’s preference as best as I can! If there’s a preference for a specific gender in the future let me know!

✨Also this will be slightly short just cause it’s setting the tone for what I hope the rest of the potential series will go like!

The video starts with a shaky video before finally being settled on a table, showing the newer of the two Red Bull drivers sat down, grinning like they’ve won the lottery, while hushed muttering can be heard in the background.

“Hey guys! Welcome to a series we will officially be starting today on my newly made, thank you so much Red Bull admin for helping me, YouTube channel!”

The no-longer rookie driver had been planning this for a while, only just solidifying the plan of going ahead with it once they realised they’d be gaining 5 new rookies in the 2025 season… which meant they would actually have people willing to work with them other than Lando.

“Basically, this is a day in the life of a F1 driver, shown by the drivers, and not to be turned into any form of gossip as it’s straight from the mouth! And for the sanctity of my PR team that is 100% not targeted at anyone and is just a statement I added out of pure-”

“Spite?” A British accent rang out.

“Malice?” A French accent this time.

“Hatred for the bastard media?” There was no guessing which person called that out.

“Boredom?”

“Thank you Oscar! See this is why you’re my favourite!” Loud arguments were heard off camera after (Name) made that statement, although while loud it sounded more like bickering siblings than a fist fight, “Boredom! So what I’ll be doing is making videos with the other drivers on the grid, Max Verstappen do not give me that face you’re joining in otherwise I’ll purposefully crash into you, and every now and then we’ll do a special video based on a suggestion by a viewer! Whether it’s cooking, doing sports, singing… whatever you guys want and what we can legally do!”

“Basically, I’m tired of hearing how much we hate and want to kill each other, and while yes. Sometimes I want some of the guys’ heads on a spike…” (Name) was cut off by an over exaggerated gasp from behind the camera, “some more than others.. we do get on. And I want to show a bit of that grid love! While ensuring it’s on our terms and no driver feels uncomfortable, except Max he doesn’t get an option.”

A chorus of laughs, one in particular being louder until it was cut off by a chocking noise and Max’s laughter now rang out, “serves you right Lando, just cause you actually enjoy doing stupid shit doesn’t mean we all do.” 

“Anyways” (Name) stopped Max before he could Maxsplain his hatred for media for the third time that day, “that’s basically all this video is for, I’m hoping you guys can enjoy the videos as they start to occur on the channel! And don’t expect every video to be race related, it’s just us having fun and me recording it… and hoping to get some blackmail while doing so… so don’t go hammering on in the comments like ‘Oh My GoD i CaN’t BeLiEvE cArLoS pUsHeD oScAr, OsCaR iS sO cRaShInG iNtO hIm NeXt RaCe!’ cause yeah no. This is purely us being idiots, and getting on as a grid, outside of going in fast cars.” (Name) grinned finishing that sentence.

“So finishing on that note! I’m (Name) an F1 driver, and I hope you enjoy the channel and the chaos that will follow, and these are some of the faces you’ll see!”

They quickly reached for their phone on table and panned it over to the drivers on the other side of the room. 

Out of the 3 other chairs in the room, only Oscar was sat normally, Lando was handing upside down off the chair to Oscar’s right, while to his left Carlos was lounging with his upper body and feet dangling off either side.

Charles was sat between Oscar and Carlos’ chairs with his head resting just below Carlos’ head, chatting to both of them in a world of their own, with Max leaning over Oscar’s chair listening in, occasionally starting to go on a ramble before being stopped by Charles tapping his leg with his foot so he didn’t go too far off topic, with Pierre watching them from where he was leaning against the wall, adding in a comment every now and then.

Lando was scrolling on his phone, occasionally sitting up to show Oscar whatever he deemed funny, before leaning back into the pose he decided was comfortable… normally (Name) wouldn’t have an issue with that but he’d been like that for almost an hour and they could almost feel their muscles crying out… still if it works for him, it works for him they guessed.

The camera panned back to (Name) as they quickly added, “it won’t just be these guys! The others will be joining in, not like they have an option, and we’re gonna be getting started on one of the videos once Lewis and the ducklings- I mean rookies come back! They’re just doing a snack and drink run, and why wouldn’t you need a 7 world champion and 5 rookies to get snacks when realistically it would only take 2 people…” (Name) was completely deadpan with the previous statement before smiling and waving to the camera, “right! Well bye guys, and I’ll see you in the next vlog!”

And with that they pressed the stop recording button and put their phone on the table, before looking at the other drivers in the room.

“What do we think the chances are FIA try and fine me for me personally swearing, and letting you guys swear in videos?”

“If they don’t try and fine you for that video alone I’ll be surprised mate.”

“Yeah true.”

——————

I hope you guys enjoy that, and feel free to send me recommendations on future parts, or advice on writing!

Also for requests just know that I personally do not write smut! It may occur in the future, but currently out of personal preference I don’t, so don’t be upset if you request something involving smut and I never write it… it’s just not for me sorry gang 😔

[unsolicited-opinions]

Why does it feel like some people are trying to gaslight you into being a trump supporter all because you said "no matter the political party, the administration has a right to revoke the visas of individuals who espouse their support for designated terrorist groups"?

Probably because some people are, Anon.

There are some MAGA folks in my inbox who are furious with me for being a Jew and despising Trump:

This gentile Trump fan knows so little about Jews that he uses the phrase "final solution" in telling Jews how they should feel.

The same Ask contains this:

"You people."

He thinks that Trump caused Jews to "have [our] holy lands back."

So, yeah. You're right.

But there's a bigger issue here, and that's US political polarization and the rejection of nuance.

Right or left, social media is mostly filled with people arguing from ignorance and treating politics like a team sport where one cheers for one's team loyally.

Let's look at this particular example you mention. Neither the mainstream liberals nor the mainstream conservatives want to acknowledge that these things can be true at the same time:

1. Trump is pushing the US towards autocracy as best he can. He and his administration do not actually care about antisemitism and are using the issue as a political wedge and to punish people they don't like. He's using Mahmoud Khalil's case to expand presidential powers.

2. Any administration can legally ban foreigners based on their support of terrorism.

Example: In February of 2024, President Biden banned anyone who committed and promoted violence in the West Bank from having a US visa for any purpose. This was legal. This was ethical. I supported it, and so did most Americans who noticed it.

That both Dems and Republicans seem to take a side on the issue exclusively based on party and utterly without nuance illustrates something important I'd like to ramble about.

That ramble is below the break, but It's longer than the line at the DMV and probably about as interesting. There's no shame in skipping it.

You're sure?

Okay, you were warned.

When Obama was elected in 2008 and the Democrats took a 70-seat lead in the House, the Republicans lost their @#&*ing minds. They were in the wilderness, out of power, and rejected by the US electorate. (And, as many have observed, there was a wildly racist backlash to the election of the first black President of the United States.)

The Republican plan to change this and get back into power was to make themselves the party of opposing anything Obama did.

They didn't just treat him like the president of the opposition party, they treated him like an assault on the American Way Of Life. This isn't an exaggeration.

If you weren't alive or politically aware at that time, here's some examples of Republicans rejecting their own policy ideas because Obama embraced them:

- The Affordable Care Act ("Obamacare")

The ACA’s individual mandate, which required individuals to obtain health insurance, was based on a policy developed by the conservative Heritage Foundation (yes, the authors of Project 2025) in the 1990s and was implemented in Massachusetts as Romneycare under Republican Governor Mitt Romney. It was a massive gift to the insurance companies.

Despite the plan’s conservative origins, Republicans labeled the ACA as “socialist” and spent years attempting to repeal or dismantle it. The individual mandate, once a free-market solution, became a target of intense criticism.

- Cap-and-Trade for carbon emissions

This was originally a Republican-supported, market-based solution to environmental regulation. It was championed by Republicans like John McCain and even used successfully in reducing acid rain under George H.W. Bush.

When Obama proposed a cap-and-trade system to address climate change, Republicans denounced it as a “job-killing” scheme and labeled it a “tax on energy.” The bill ultimately failed in the Senate due to Republican opposition.

(Guess which president got the Environmental Protection Agency into existence. Republican Richard Nixon. The environment wasn't always a partisan issue and Republicans used to care about the environment before the issue was polarized.)

- The DREAM Act

The concept of providing a pathway to citizenship for undocumented immigrants brought to the U.S. as children had bipartisan support, with some Republican co-sponsors when first introduced in 2001.

By the time Obama advocated for the DREAM Act, Republicans opposed it, citing concerns about "amnesty," and blocked its passage through a Senate filibuster in 2010.

Then there were all the ridiculous personal attacks. This kind of nonsense, which hadn't been normal previously, became the daily norm:

The Republican philosophy became: If Obama and the Democrats are for it? We're against it!

I will abuse this moment to share the brilliant Groucho Marx singing "Whatever it is, I'm against it."

Anyway, this strategy worked for the Republicans and has been increasingly the norm for the Republican Party ever since.

That was bad enough, but a lot of left-leaning criticism of Obama focused on the idea that he was too centrist. That he kept trying to reach across the aisle to the Republicans, despite the way they slapped that hand every time he tried. They were pissed that Obama's administration bailed out the banks in 2009 (when they felt Democrats should be the party to break banks up and let them fail, Obama thought the economy wouldn't recover without a bailout and I think economically Obama was proven right, but politically, it hurt the Democrats). These left-leaning democrats thought it was time that the Democratic Party, originally a Labor party, had a leftist wing again.

(Sidebar: Yes, the internet has also contributed to polarization and the demise of nuance in a big way, but that's a topic for another time.)

I'm not suggesting that the polarization of the US electorate has been symmetrical. It hasn't. The rightward movement of the Republican Party has been much greater than the leftward movement of the Democrats - but we got reactionary far-left Democrats, too.

While the Republican Party is now run entirely by far right ideology (and that's a disaster), the Democrats helped make it happen with their own end of the Horseshoe.

The loudest democrats, the ones with good Q scores in the Democratic base are the likes of AOC/Ilhan Omar/Rashida Tlaib. They married the leftist wing of the Democrats to "global South" and Islamist causes (oversimplification, yes), which helped decrease support to Israel (which the Democrats used to support enthusiastically when it had a lefty government) and caused the Democratic party to completely ignore the rising antisemitism of the left, particularly on college campuses. How could it be wrong, they argued, to support protestors who are advocating for human rights?

This gave Republicans the opportunity to *own* those issues. Elise Stefanik didn't give a single shit about campus antisemitism, but the Republicans owned the issue in the minds of most Americans from this moment on:

Claudine Gay was very badly prepared for this hearing. She spoke like a lawyer, not like a human being. It was obvious Harvard hadn't done anything to protect the civil rights of Jews on campus in acoordance with federal law.

Americans (correctly) saw that liberal institutions, aligned with Democrats, hadn't done anything, nor had congressional Democrats who didn't want to alienate the "Pro-Palestinian" part of their base and didn't want the Republicans to have an excuse to go after colleges. This was a huge mistake. Biden should have had the Department of Education sue these institutions for their failure to protect civil rights. It is tragic that the Democrats did less than nothing, but that helped get us where we are.

So where did this get us?

Now, fighting antisemitism is a partisan issue which the GOP "supports" (for its own reasons, mostly a political wedge) and the Democrats oppose it as a symbol of Republican fascism.

This is why they lionize Mahmoud Khalil.

Now, being a liberal seems to mean believing that claims of antisemitism are wildly exaggerated and being dishonestly used to deflict criticism of Israel.

Now we have liberals saying "criticism of Israel isn't antisemitism" as if that hadn't always been the view of US Jews who love to criticize Israel.

Now we have liberals who are opposed to every sort of religious/ethnic persecution except one- because as David Baddiel said, Jews Don't Count.

Now, the support of the only liberal democracy the MENA region is a partisan issue which the Republican party "supports" (for its own reasons, mostly geopolitical advantage) and which the Democratic party base associates with Trump's autocracy and fascism.

There's seemingly no room for nuance on either side.

So if I express the belief that the law permits Trump to ban foreign nationals who promote violence, despite their support for Biden doing the same, liberals think I'm a fascist.

(Guess which President, by the way, was the biggest deporter of foreign nationals in modern history. Hint: it was Obama.)

If I support declining visas and/or residence to foreigners who promote terrorism (as Biden did in 2024, remember), Democrats see me as a fascist, aligned with Trump, and an enemy of civil liberties. The right sort of Jew, for Democrats, disowns Israel and opposes anything Trump does.

If I criticize Trump's efforts towards autocracy and fascism, I'm the wrong sort of Jew because I don't appreciate his strategic support of Israel or feigned caring about antisemtism. The right sort of Jew, for Republicans, is the Jew who still thinks of politics in the predictable framing of the "is-it-good-for-the-Jews" mindset and isn't concerned about the dismantling of the liberal democracy which made Jews (and everyone else) safer and more prosperous in the US than at any time in history.

If the Dems are for it, the GOP is against it.

If the GOP is for it, the Dems are against it.

These partisan policy positions are, for now, locked.

If you watch the news with this framing in mind, it may make more sense.

If you've actually reached the end of this ramble, I'm shocked and grateful. Have a cookie: 🍪

[clemswinecorner-socials]

So Hvar so good [ah]

yourusername

Hvar, Croatia

liked by willne, arthurtv and others

yourusername special thanks to my brother for bringing a bit of home and some company to me during my time abroad xx tagged georgeclarkeey, arthurnfhill, chrismd10, arthurtv

posted june 13th, 2024

chrisfan omg chris went to visit her how cute!! chrismd10 ur welcome mate, i'll bring an English flag as well next time 😂😂 yourfriend okay cutie

yourusername imy already pls come back to visit again

randomfollower this dump absolutely slayed georgeclarkeey good times arthurnfhill come back to london pls dealing with him was much more bearable with you around

yourusername got a while left but will let you know when I'm around xx

... view more comments

yourusername

Hvar, Croatia

liked by arthurnfhill, willne and others

yourusername so hvar so good

posted september 3rd, 2024

yourcousin ?!?! a man ?!?!

yourusername just a friend for now :) yourcousin croatian guy or??? yourusername wait I'll text you about it chrismd10 how about you text me as well

yourbestfriend i miss you girl randomfollower this makes me want to live abroad chrismd10 ok if its good i guess you wont need a place to stay in London then 👍🏻

yourusername definitely not what i said?? i'm sure your roommates will let me in x

... view more comments

yourusername

Hvar, Croatia

liked by chrismd10, theburntchip and others

yourusername one last hvar post before i'm back home

posted october 10th, 2024

chrismd10 are you ever going to tell me about the lad or croatianfriend I'll miss you sm!!

yourusername our aperol dates will happen over facetime <333

yourbestfriend there goes my reason to book flights to the sun

yourusername bff you know i'd never say no to a flight to the sun this just means more holidays together

arthurnfhill london weather will dissapoint you

yourusername i know pls dont remind me

randomfollower y/n replying to everyone but chris i can't

... view more comments

yourusername

London, UK

liked by arthurtv, georgeclarkeey and others

yourusername back in london init tagged chrismd10, arthurnfhill, theburntchip

posted october 26th, 2024

chrismd10 ON MY FUCKING DINNER TABLE???? chrisfan are you staying with chris?? randomfriend does chris know about the lad yet?

yourusername yes chrismd10 no yourusername you do??? chrismd10 literally don't??? all I know is that there is one

yourbestfriend obsessed with you and your slow softlaunchhhh

yourusername i fear that as the relationship develops the insta develops with it🤭🤭🤭

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yourusername

liked by georgeclarkeey, miniminter and others

yourusername bit more hvar bts bc i lowkey miss it tbh tagged arthurnfhill, arthurtv, chrismd10, calfreezy, willne

posted december 16th, 2024

randomfollower is that arthur in picture 3 or am I delusional willne fantastic vibes arthurnfhill me too let's go back

yourusername looking up flights as we speak

chrismd10 y/n.

yourusername i think we need to talk? chirsmd10 d'you reckon? yourusername we're in the living room 😃👍🏻 georgeclarkeey uh oh chrismd10 don't think you're getting away with everything george

croatiabestie what you only miss me lowkey?

yourusername no i miss you highkey its the sunburns i miss only lowkey

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Ireland

liked by arthurtv, calfreezy and others

yourusername new year new relationship era (hardlaunching) happy new years lads, im enjoying a short getaway trip with my london boy <3 tagged arthurnfhill

posted january 2nd, 2025

georgeclarkeey hes putting in work, got you onto the Guinness already arthurfan t swift reference iktr chrismd10 happy new year, happy for you lot yourbestfriend favs (pls visit me next) lisahull_hill looks lovely y/n, tell me all about it next week xx arthurnfhill don't have to miss the missus this trip! arthurnfhill love you loads ❤️

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[lovemomhatepolice]

formula 1 masterlist

navigation taglist requests

carlos sainz

alexander albon

oscar piastri

lando norris

george russell

kimi antonelli

lewis hamilton

charles leclerc

max verstappen

oliver bearman

franco colapinto

arthur leclerc

daniel ricciardo

f1 drivers (multi!)

grand prix 2024

grand prix 2025

quarantine

A/N: in the future I will add more drivers to the list! for now I'm posting my favorites and chapters with more of them :)

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

some chapters will be sub-linked to the driver in question as well as under the masterlist GP 2024 or masterlist quarantine (I introduced them in order to keep relative order and so that I don't get anything mixed up, and maybe someone is looking for something on this exact topic)

10.11.2024 - I also added drivers who: are not permanently in F1, are from F2 or F3, are not F1 drivers at the moment

23.03.2025 - i guess it's time to change their colours

[imaluvsj7]

✿ ─── WE MET IN 2025 : JAKE SIM

SYNOPSIS : finding your soulmate on the new year wasn't exactly your plan but guess fate has its own plan.

PAIRING : jake sim x afab reader ; GENRE : strangers to lovers, fluff ; WC : 2,522

WARNINGS : english is not my first language, I do proofread but if you find typos then I'm very sorry I make typos alotttt. Female reader(s) without any description of body; height; image, reader words in IT tech company, reader(s) has a family along with younger siblings — she is heavily playing older sibling role although the family is mentioned for the plot but no fights mentioned. That's it I think if you find anything lmk !! ENJOY READING DISCLAIMER : This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

“Do you (first name and last name) take Sim Jaehyun to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?” — “I do.” You responded to the priest's questions with tears fighting the urge to fall on your grinning face while hands shaking.

“Do you Sim Jaehyun take (first name and last name) to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?” — “I do.” Jake replied with a cheeky smile and eyes shining with tears as he tried to sooth your shaking hands by caressing your knuckles.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, now you may kiss the bride.” Holding your hands Jake leaned in and kissed you gently. Soon after parting away he whispered close to your ears, “I may sound like a jerk but I'm glad Do-hyun found you for help after getting lost on 31st December 2024.” — oh of course you do vividly remember that night. [ CLICK TO READ MORE ]

DATE – 31st DECEMBER 2024 | TIME – 11:15 PM

You never thought starting a new year with no one beside you would be this lonely. You lived in a different state for work purposes and unfortunately couldn't fly back to your parents home. The company really needed all the staff this year since the increase in consumers led to a good opportunity for your company to achieve big recognition among locals and brands.

It wasn't forced labour but a request by the company’s CEO and he did give 3 days holiday, for christmas and new year eve and new year to celebrate with families. Not enough big holidays because of the circumstances but an extra paycheck for the staff that stayed to consider his request.

You being one of those staff, currently your parents were facing some financial problems which was an obstacle for your brother’s studies. Being an older sister who had a well paying job you decided to help him as much as you can.

Not that your brother wasn't working hard already, he is studying hard for scholarship and trying to ease your and your parents' responsibility by a side hustle job where he works as a cashier in a small restaurant. But a family has other requirements and necessities too, at the end of the day he is a seventeen year old teen who deserves some freedom after studying and doing his part time job.

So the opportunity of an extra paycheck along with the opportunity to impress your boss as a good staff shined in front of your eyes which lead you to not attend your family holidays.

Your brother who wanted a bike for himself after he turned 18 this year didn't want to burden you so he decided to push the dream of a bike for some next year. Your father unfortunately lost his job after his company faced some serious decline in their business.

Your family always appreciates your efforts and loves you dearly so maybe it's the older sisters’ instinct that kicked you to take it upon yourself to help out your brother with his dream bike by adding some of your own money and help out your parents for their daily necessities.

Being tweety three — oh your birthday comes during holiday what a wonderful time right . You always wanted to work as a computer engineer since you loved the devices and for what reason, you don't know but the coding always looked like a cyber crime mystery to solve. sigh. . .

Only if, as a child , you knew how it's not just moving a cursor and typing vigorously but a lot of responsibilities to sit in front of the pc for long hours and daily headaches. You still loved your job but who doesn't trash talk about their profession right? Especially when you're supposed to enjoy the holidays with your family.

A petty reaction since you willingly chose this for yourself — but hey you're a human with vulnerable emotions so it's valid to have such negative thoughts about your job currently.

“Excuse me miss”, a soft tap on your thighs snaps you out of your thoughts and you glance down to see a boy with age around 7 - 8 years. “Yes, do you need something?”, you crouch down to his level. “I can't find my uncle….. he was here but I lost him in the crowd.”

“Oh it's the new years crowd so it happens it's okay we will find your uncle, what is his name or do you remember his number”, you ask while grabbing his hands on your own. “No, I don't know his number…. Ohhh! But I know his name. It's Jaehyun 삼촌 (uncle).”

“Okay you're a brilliant kid to remember his name huh.” He covered his ears while blushing at your compliment. Cooing at his precious reaction you stand up to find his uncle and ask him more about where they were before and what he looks like.

After a few minutes you start to get anxious but try to stay calm for the sake of the child but getting angrier — tch… who leaves a child alone carelessly in such a crowded place. “Do-hyun”, suddenly you hear a man shout a name while hurrying towards your direction pushing past the crowd.

“삼촌”, the kid whose name you forgot to ask response to the man while gripping your fingers tightly and dragging you towards the man. “He is my uncle miss”, the kid looks up with slightly teary eyes and soon the guy reaches to your distance.

“Do-hyun I got worried sick, why did you run away from the spot I told you to stand.”, the guy pants while scolding the kid with glossy eyes — trying his best to not cry. He scoops the kid in his arm after Do-hyun lifts his arms and soon kisses his cheeks and wipes his tears.

“Sorry I saw one uncle with same jacket as yours and I thought it was you so I ran after him but then I lost the sight of you 삼촌.” Oh so it wasn't the man's fault. Finally the man looks at you and says, “thank you so much for your help Miss — “Yn, Ln yn” — Miss yn.”

“It's okay but please be careful next time it's not safe for him to be alone in such a crowded place.” “Yeah I understand and sorry for the trouble. Btw, I'm sim jaehyun or jake for short.”

“Oh we should leave now Do-hyun, the fireworks are going to start soon for the new year and we can't leave your parents alone.” Jake exclaimed after checking his wrist watch. 11:46 — well they must live in a nearby area, you thought after realizing the time.

“Aunty yn you should join us too, you don't have a partner with you”, whoever said kids are brutally honest and don't have timings is totally correct. You mentally sigh as Jake covers his mouth to control his laugh while trying to fake a cough.

“Do-hyun, you shouldn't say such things to someone.” Jake tries to shut him up but — “but….. she really doesn't have anyone with her so I just thought we will give her some company.”

“That is because I couldn't go back to my home, Do-hyun. My office had some important work”, you try to give an awkward laugh trying to cover the situation which did work in your favour. “That's quite sad…. It's the new year.” “Yeah but the company needed some help this year so few of the workers stayed in which I'm included.”

“A hardworking employee huh, anyways Do-hyun is right you are alone might join us with the new year celebration.” Wow, a way of wording your sentence jake… great. “No it's okay I will get going after watching the fireworks, thank you for the offer tho.”

“Please I insist, this is bare minimum after all you have helped Do-hyun.” “Jake thank you so much but I don't think that will be appropriate plus Do-hyuns’ parents aren't aware and we barely have a few minutes left so you should leave asap.”

“Aunty yn, please join us. I will show you my superman collection.” “I appreciate it so much Do-hyun but I can't, I'm sorry.” “Is there any reason?” Jake asked. “No particular reason but I will be honest, it's our first meeting and I don't know you or your family Jake so I don't think it's reasonable and appropriate.”

“That's fine and pretty reasonable. Anyways thank you so much for helping Do-hyun we should probably get going before twelve.” “Yes of course! Happy new year to you both, deliver my wishes to Do-hyuns’ parents too.”

You take steps back and turn around to walk back to your previous spot since fireworks will start soon. “Btw yn — Jake calls you, making you halt in your steps. He walks closer to you and continues — if you don't mind will you…. uhh… you know.”

Looking at him with your raised eyebrows you wait for him to continue. “Maybe if you don't mind then can you give me your number.” handsome, interesting and maybe a flirt… you chuckle internally at his bold move.

“Asking for my number when you don't even know me properly is a bold move Jaehyun.” He lowers head a little while his face goes crimson red – so pretty – “To know a pretty girl better I definitely need her number”, he speaks with confidence but soon it crumbles when you forward your hand to him.

Well acts bold but is definitely a loser trapped in a hot body. You try not to laugh so he doesn't feel embarrassed while he puts Do-hyun down and fumbles to find his phone. “Just a second…. H-here… wait lemme unlock… password what is the password Do-hyun – oh yes wait… yeah here.”

He fiddles with his ring placed onto his middle finger while clearly trying to act calm and collected. Soon you push his phone forward after typing out your number. “Here you go.” “I can t-text you right….?” “I mean I gave my number for a reason.”

“Uncle Jake, are you done trying to bag a baddie? If so let's go home please, the fireworks are going to start soon. Mom and dad will be worried.” You and Jake laugh at Do-hyuns’ honesty

“Guess someone is using social media from a young age.” “No I don't use social media, I learnt this from uncle Jake when I asked him why he doesn't have a wife – “well Do-hyun I'm waiting to bag a baddie” – his words auntie Yn not mine.

“Okay enough exposure Do-hyun we need to leave.” Jake picks him up back while clearly to cover up his embarrassment and soon bidding good-byes he starts to walk away with his red face. “Thank you so much once again pret- I mean Yn, we will get going it was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too Jake and also the little chatterbox.” You get closer to pinch Do-hyuns’ cheek. Soon walking away and smiling to yourself, guess grabbing the opportunity to stay here wasn't so bad.

──────── TIME SKIP ──────────

DATE – 5th MARCH, 2025 | TIME – 1:37 PM

PLACE – Daejeon O-World Flower Land

“Thank you for this date Jaehyun. I really loved the whole experience.” “Well I know your love for flowers especially flower gardens plus this place had birds so I thought you would like it. – “Like is an understatement I loved it” – guess my mission is successful now.”

You both chuckle at his words while holding hands and walking towards the bench. “You know I didn't want to reject your offer of visiting your place with Do-hyun that day.” “I mean it wasn't so appropriate to ask you that when it was our first meeting, that too by coincidence so i don't blame you for rejecting the offer.”

“Yeah plus you are a man and I can't trust a random man to walk to his house on the first meeting you know.” “I did realize that after I told my sister about our encounter. I don't want to sound sappy but it must be very hard to live as a woman right.”

“Well yeah but I blame man sorry.” You both laugh while he continues – “Valid reason though, I used to believe that we can understand what women go through if we study enough about the reasons for your safety but later I did realize that no matter how much we as a man learn we can never stand in the same shoes.”

“I think you are the first even man with an intellectual brain because wow that was a suppressing statement.” “Thanks to you and my sister, well she said it's bare minimum but yeah.”

“I mean she is right tho but I think someone is a keeper huh.” “Oh really then I think I might need someone to keep me with them to educate me further.” “If you think you can impress me with just a few words for women then you're wrong, Sim Jaehyun.” You tease him but knowing where this is going.

“No ma'am who said that, I will do better I promise but I might need someone to hold me accountable throughout the journey. Plus I have been yearning for a baddie for so long so I think it's time I bag one.”

“Oh is that so hmm… I think you shouldn't miss your chance then.” “Right, so pretty girl will you be please give me the honour of becoming your boyfriend and make me the happiest man alive by being my girlfriend.” “Yes Jaehyun, I will be your girlfriend.”

“Let's gaur”, he jumps while standing up and shouting in his Aussie accent, soon pulling you to him and spinning you around. “Jaehyun put me down I feel dizzy – “Naur I feel so happy.” – put me down or I will punch your face oh god I might throw up.”

Soon after a few minutes of calming your breath you both sit and pull his ears. “Oww… oww Yn that hurts sorry please leave my ears.” Leaving his ear and taking support of the bench to sit comfortably.

“Well the proposal was a bit corny”, you teasingly roll your eyes and while smiling. But he knows it's a joke after all he has spent enough time to understand your teasing. “Well sorry princess but I have been waiting for 3 months. I had to make it special by adding a few beautiful terms.”

“Shut up Jaehyun.” “Btw how many children do you want. – “Jaehyun”, you shout while smacking his shoulder – Sorry my bad I was teasing you.” You both continue to bicker without noticing an old couple who are standing on the footpath after witnessing the proposal.

“They remind me of us, honey. Remember we met in this park after we shared a bench”, one of them exclaimed. “They are in for a long ride sweetheart.” — the other partner replied.

© 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐒𝐉𝟕 2025 | DO NOT PLAGIARISE ON ANY PLATFORM

💌 ─── NOTE : ౨ৎ participation for ‘𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋 ⎯⎯ ⠀ ✿ް⠀okwonyo’ by @okwonyo

After 2 months of not posting it's finally here. I'm sorry but after changing the plot since the first one looked rushed I went through writers block and couldn't think of anything so I really hope you all do find it good enough to read and leave your feedback, It will be appreciated <3

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