#even knowingly or unknowingly

[a-tad-bit-obsessed]

There’s something about that fact that Callie didn’t actually even properly throw the guts on the bullies at school, didn’t actually properly attack them with them, instead she just dumped them in their lunch trays and the odd bit splashed on them

[knowlesian]

one of my favorite games to play whenever i rewatch the bear is “spot the very realistic health code/basic kitchen rule violations”

so far my favorite is one of the ones i’ve never seen mentioned: how often people wear their aprons outside the kitchen, which is absolutely a no-no and equally absolutely happens all the goddamned time and i am speaking from a lot of experience on that one

[belades]

Something about people spreading misinformation or using "unfair" logic (namely willfully ignoring multiple important factors, comparisons, or history based on the subject) just drives me into an absolute frenzy even if I otherwise 100% agree with their stance on an issue.

[kaizokuseb]

it's crazy how often i have to remind myself that the vast majority of people are cis and have cis ideas of gender. i'm just surrounded by queer people all the time, on and off the internet, that i'll turn into that xkcd meme. "well the average cis person only knows one or two trans people, right? and they know that the concept of two completely distinct genders is entirely socially constructed, of course."

[redrosydiaz]

actually the eddie golfing/walking/coffee shopping montage is. the funniest thing ever. like eddie what the fuck are you even doing lmfao.

[sick-bay]

i LOVE the

-"oh no! you're injured!"

-"i'm fine. it's not that bad." *passes out later because it WAS. that. bad.

trope

[msmk11]

Regardless has always been a very powerful word. It is the conviction and resistance with which we face adversity. It’s seen as a bandage, a warm blanket, a sign of love and loyalty.

But I’ve found this word can be rather reckless in nature. It’s a word we throw around to show how much we care. But if we’re always throwing it around, we lose sight of its purpose.

We’ve forgotten to consider what we’re regarding in the first place. What happens when we disregard something we shouldn’t in favor of performative care? When does well-intentioned love become hollow heroism?

The love you have for me is not entirely selfless because you too relish in the ability to care and fulfill a role you’ve always dreamed. To pursue these goals regardless of the cost to me makes me wonder how much you care at all.

[highdramas]

ok but first or second year resident flirting with jack’s wife knowingly or unknowingly that she’s jack’s wife and jack is losing it over the whole thing and keeps giving the newbie death stares from across the room whenever the newbie is near is wife and dana sees this all go down from the nurses station and just prepares for jack to go ape if the newbie crosses a line

rookie mistake | dr. jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!attending!wife!reader

warnings: language, age gap (unspecified, but reader is late 20s/early 30s and jack is mid/late 40s), jack defends you because you are his lovely wife <3

word count: 1.8k

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. ANON THANK YOUUUU FOR THIS REQUEST <3 i adored this one <3 this is a continuation of ring of fire set in the future, but it's not necessary to read to understand this fic. if you would like to, though, you can find that here <3 not proofread so apologies for any errors!

on monday, you resign yourself to cut the newbie some slack. i mean, alex doesn't know, and if he did, you're almost certain that he would knock that shit off immediately. but... there's a small part of you that finds it a little bit amusing. and maybe you should be good and hold your hand up and say the words that would make any wise man run far, far away: "sorry, kid. you know your attending? yeah, that's my husband."

but that would just be too easy.

tuesday, you're ultimately surprised by the gumption that he has to continue to flirt with you. he says your name like he's purring it, and you can't help but scrunch your nose up slightly, looking up at the board to see where your skills are most needed. the amusement has mostly dissipated, being followed by a certain brand of annoyance that only a twenty five year old boy can draw out of you.

you roll your head to look at your forty nine year old man, coming out of the trauma that had come in thirty minutes ago, only to find that his gaze is already on you. his cheeks are slightly red, hands on his hips, eyebrows screwed up in that way that indicate to you that he's weighing his options about what the best course of action is, here. you wave at him with your fingers, and the new resident, alex, follows your gaze. he gives a big toothy grin to your attending and it takes everything within you to keep your face as neutral as possible. "man, abbot's a cool fuckin' dude," he says under his breath with a truly earnest reverence, and it almost makes you feel bad. almost.

"he's the best of us," you say, and it's entirely truthful. you can tell that jack is still cued in on your conversation. you slide your glance back over to him and wink before you look back to alex.

"yeah." he doesn't take a beat to look back at you with that unbridled hunger that he had been throwing your way through both of the shifts you'd worked together. "so. what're you doing after all of this?"

with raised eyebrows, you shrug your shoulders. "i have an idea or two." he looks just a hair too excited, and your face drops. "not like that. you know, if you want to be a doctor, you do need to actually have an attention for detail." you raise your left hand, revealing the gold band that you wear when you're working. “less flirting. more charting. go.”

when you look over at abbot with a slight exasperation, he just raises one eyebrow at you, and offers a tentative thumbs up– almost a question.

you give him a thumbs up back.

–

the next day, alex was going around to every person that you both worked with, attempting to get intel on you, and your love life.

dana scoffs when she hears the words come out of his mouth. “i mean, he can’t be all that. there’s no way he’s better than me. i was a diver at duke! i had a full ride!” the words are said with such true arrogance that even dana has to laugh.

“oh, kid, if only you knew.” she claps him on the shoulder and points her finger at him. “i’m only gonna tell you this once, alright– after that, you’re on your own. and don’t say i didn’t warn you.” she looks at him down the bridge of his nose– a remarkable feat, considering alex is nearing 6’1. “you don’t want to try your luck. you feel me?”

“but–”

“ah– what did i just say? you don’t want to try your luck. believe me.” she claps that same shoulder again. “and if you do, i knew nothing, and had nothing to do with it.”

you lean against the counter, very obviously eavesdropping, not like you really care– when abbot slides up beside you. he looks over his shoulder at alex, who is, of course, already looking at you. when he meets abbot’s gaze, his eyes go wide and he turns right around, going back to north-11 to finish up with the norovirus patient that jack had put him on. following jack’s line of sight, you can’t help but smirk as you watch alex take in a big gulp of air, slap a mask on, and step into what you’re sure is a hell made entirely of shit and vomit.

“you know,” you say lowly, your elbow brushing jack’s. “that is just mean.”

“all interns get a noro case when they come in,” he says seamlessly, looking between the board and the patient notes that he’s trying to wrap up. “it’s textbook.”

“his first day was three days ago. you usually give it at least a couple of weeks before you start sticking them on noro or food poisoning.”

“not all interns flirt with my wife, relentlessly, in front of me.” jack puts his undivided attention on you.

“oh my god.” you’re smirking. you’re smirking, wide, at your computer. when you look over at jack, you say, “you’re not seriously jealous of the kid?”

“it’s about respect.”

“i don’t think he’s even picked up on us yet. which is hilarious, in and of itself.” you finish up with your chart and put a hand on your hip. “no one’s telling him.”

“he keeps this shit up, he’ll be hearing it from me.”

you hum and pat your hand on his chest. he catches it, his thumb rubbing at the ring you wear. “you’re sexy when you’re jealous,” you say under your breath, close enough to him that you can get away with a little workplace flirting.

“i’m not jealous.”

–

he is jealous.

he’s jealous when he watches this kid– yeah, you may only be five years older than him, but he doesn’t linger on that fact too long– blatantly flirt with you. he gets jealous when alex leans in slightly towards you during shift, just a little too close than is friendly while you review patient notes and ongoing care. but then, he watches you do your little semi-awkward shuffle to the left, and he can’t even help his smirk. and then you look over your shoulder, make this face that says, can you believe this guy? and suddenly, it’s not that he’s jealous. it’s just that he loves you.

but then, on that thursday, alex touches you.

at first, you don’t even notice what he’s done. a little piece of hair has fallen into your eyes out of the tortoiseshell clip that you love so much– the one that jack picked up for you at a cvs because he knows how much you love tortoiseshell. and it’s so faint that you barely even register it. but it doesn’t matter. because you may not have realize, but jack certainly has.

alex’s hand hasn’t even dropped from where he’s tucking that loose piece of hair behind your ear when jack surges up, dana hot on his heels. “woah, woah, woah, let’s all cool it–” dana starts, but it’s no use.

jack puts a firm hand on alex’s shoulder, squeezing tighter than necessary. certainly firm enough to drive home his point. “hey, buddy,” jack says lowly, just enough so that alex can hear him loud and clear, without causing a scene that draws the attention of the entire emergency department. he has that sort of simmering intensity that always makes something swirl in your belly. “look, i’ve tried to be cool, man. i really have. but i’m only going to tell you this one time before i pull in a favor with gloria so that you complete your residency somewhere else. keep those grubby fucking hands off of my wife.”

mortification is an understatement for what you assume alex must be feeling. his face is beet red, eyes darting between you and abbot so fast you’d want to get him in for a head CT if he kept it up any longer. “i– holy shit– i did not know.”

“i know you didn’t,” jack says with a resolute nod. “but now you do. so keep your hands to yourself and we won’t have a problem.” he pats alex’s back once, and you cover your mouth with one hand and peer over at dana with wide eyes. she, can only shrug, roll her eyes, put her readers back on, and turn back to the charge desk. “go get a sandwich from the bin and take ten minutes. go.” 

alex looks at you and you feel bad, almost. you smile at him and say, “next time, if a woman says she’s not interested… take it at face value, before jack abbot has to get involved.”

“yes, ma’am. it will not happen again.” alex gives one last nod to jack, like a nervous teenage boy, before he’s off running towards the staff lounge with his tail between his legs.

jack rubs a hand over his face. you bite down on your lip, look at him, and you start to chuckle. soon, jack’s laugh begins to mix with yours, coalescing until you’re leaning against the charge desk with tears clouding your vision, his dimples fully out and on display.

“man,” he says, shaking his head. “i feel a little bad.” he says, his laughter still holding him by the sleeve, begging to tug him back under.

“you should be. you’re scary,” you say while his thumb catches one of the stray tears on your cheek.

he snorts. “i’m about as scary as a kitten.”

“i dunno. i think our friend would beg to differ.” you lean into him and squeeze his arm before you force yourself to pull away– you like to exude some semblance of professionalism at work. even if the thing you want to do is drag your husband to the on-call room and ravage him for defending your honor.

“yeah, well. guess i reserve it for special circumstances.” he crosses his broad arms over his chest and looks you, up and down. they land on your face and soften. “i love you, kid.” the way he calls you kid, versus alex, makes your chest squeeze. an old habit from your residency, a reminder of where you were and how far you've come now.

the fondness that you feel for him never gets smaller. the longer you've been with him, from that time where you were his resident, smoking weed on his living room floor and wondering if there was a world where this could all work... the thing that always remained true and steady was how much you liked jack. right down to his bones, you liked him.

how can you capture that all in a sentence?

you don't know. but you settle on, "i love you," emphasis on the most important word there is.

[rafelandia]

In the Middle of the Night (Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, little bit of cum play, unprotected sex

Summary: Rafe can't sleep. Luckily, the antidote to his ailment is laying in bed right next to him.

Author's Note: I can't stop thinking about Rafe waking Y/N up in the middle of the night for sex. I am addicted to the trope of Rafe being an asshole to everyone except his girl, but this is more of a soft!Rafe moment than anything. If you enjoy, please give a like or reblog. And any requests for blurbs/one shots/etc. are always welcome in my inbox!

Before Y/N came along, there were many ways in which Rafe would conquer the restlessness that crept up on him in the middle of the night. He would go for a run on the beach with nothing but the moonlight to guide him, hunker down in his home office and crunch numbers, read a few chapters in his current favorite non-fiction. There were dozens of outlets Rafe had conditioned himself to do when he just couldn’t fall asleep despite knowing that he should. He was older now and staying up all night like he would as a teenager just wasn’t good for him in any capacity anymore.

All of these outlets, but they suddenly went out of the window when he met Y/N. She was unlike any other woman he had ever been with or even met before, but he supposed that’s how it always was when you were in love with someone. He swore he could stare at her features for forever, that she was more intoxicating than any substance or drink. But looking at her in the glimmering moonlight that shone through the cracked shades was not what put him to bed whenever that frustrating feeling of not being able to close his eyes came insidiously creeping into his head.

There was something about the way her hair was mussed about her head like a halo around her pillow, or maybe it was the way that she was sleeping on her stomach so that the swell of her breast peaked through the comforter. Either way, Rafe couldn’t help but feel his boxers growing tighter the longer he traced his eyes over the shape of her sleeping body next to his.

He slid his body over towards her, turning her and wrapping his arms around her body so that his front was flush with her backside. Warmth radiated from her sleeping form and his hands found their way to her breasts. Rafe began gently kneading them in aim to draw her from her slumber, but the most he got out of her was a shift in her bum on the mattress. A low rumble escaped from his chest at the way she unknowingly ground herself against his cock.

His next attempt was to go for her neck. Rafe always teased her for being so sensitive there but at the same time, there was nothing more that he loved than feeling her turn to putty in his hands when his lips roamed about the column of her throat. He started nipping at her skin with his plush, pink lips, just barely meeting his skin with hers. Goosebumps raised in response to his touch as his kisses grew sloppier. It was when he’d hit her sweet spot with his tongue that he heard the sound he’d been searching for. Rafe swears he’s never heard anything more heavenly in his entire life, that soft, half-moan half-groan that fell from her parted lips. It brought his neediness to the forefront.

“Baby,” Rafe grumbled against the crook of her neck, tickling her with his outgrown stubble.

Amidst her hazy state she was able to hum back at him, though it sounded once more like a broken moan.

“Need you to wake up,” he hoarsely whispered as he began working himself against her backside, slowly but surely rutting his hips into the skin of her bum to ease some of the tension that had built up in his cock.

He couldn’t see the way the corners of her lips turned up knowingly. She was no stranger to this Rafe, the Rafe that woke her in the middle of the night with an itch that he just couldn’t seem to scratch. It was almost comical to her, the way that he’d do just about everything in the book besides coming right out and telling her that he was in the mood. Sometimes, she’d tease him and pretend to be asleep longer than she actually was before turning over and giving him what he wanted, but not tonight. Unbeknownst to Rafe, he had stirred her from quite the dream, so there was no need to dance around the ledge this time.

With a sigh, she resituated herself in the bed, turning in Rafe's arms so that their faces sat mere inches from each other.

“Hi,” she sang through her sleep-ridden voice.

“Hi,” Rafe repeated back to her in the same groggy tone. "Can't sleep?" she asked, a tinge of playfulness in her voice.

He gave no response - just a lazy smirk in return. Even in the darkness, Y/N noticed a flush rising up his neck and cheeks. He'd been caught.

“Need some help?” she quirked her brow and gestured downwards to the tent in his boxers.

“Maybe,” he answered with a sleepy chuckle.

She knocked him on his back so that she was straddling his waist and sitting on his now painfully hard cock; the feathered duvet now pooled at their knees. Rafe hissed at the commotion, but the feeling soon turned to bliss when her hands snuck into the waistband of his boxers and she took his length in her fingers. It felt heavy in her grip as she smeared the silky beads of precum along his tip, coating him in preparation to make home within her tight, warm walls.

“I was dreamin’ about you,” she spoke lowly as she gently twisted her wrist around his cock, reveling in the way Rafe's brows were furrowing together in response to her touch.

“Yeah?” he jested.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, “We were kinda like how we are now. But this is much better,” she finished with a tantilizing pump of her hand.

Rafe's hips jutted into her fist, wanting more than just her teasing touches. It almost made her laugh aloud, how needy he could be in the middle of the night like this. She wanted him just as much, only due to her still-drowsy state, she was able to control it.

She leaned down and laid her body flush with Rafe's as she kissed him for the first time since he’d woke her. They tasted of the remnants of their minty toothpaste and mostly of morning breath, but that was the furthest thing from their minds. Rafe held her close to him as his tongue slipped between her lips, aching to get her going as quickly as he could. His arms slid under the ratty Kildare High School t-shirt of his that she slept in so he could lift it off of her frame, breaking the kiss for only a fraction of a second before they were intertwined again.

Once her chest was free of clothing, Rafe ran his hands along the sides of her breasts and spine, chilling her skin with his cold hands. He ducked his head down to kiss the center of her chest and then outwards to her wrap his plump lips around her erect nipples. Those velvety, smooth sighs of hers turned into the moans that Rafe adored oh-so dearly. Y/N began to feel the wetness from her core pool at the front of her panties. One of her hands cradled his neck, snugly but not tightly as she kissed him, but she was able to move the other down to grip his cock in her digits once more.

“Y/N," Rafe pleaded, his hazy, hungry eyes peering up at her. He needed her to do something, anything before he lost his whits.

She locked eyes with Rafe as she sank down slowly, splitting herself on top of him. Rafe always swore that the way the wrinkle between her brows reared itself and her lips parted just slightly when she first felt his cock first enter her was by far his favorite face of hers. Well, his second favorite, apart from the face she made when she came, he supposed. He gripped onto her hips tightly as she lowered herself fully onto him, exhaling a sigh of relief when she made it all of the way down to the base of his cock.

They soon found their rhythm, Y/n bouncing and rolling her hips against his while they chased their highs. Her early morning sensitivity caused her to melt in Rafe's arms with the way his tip was able to brush against all of the sweetest spots that made her eyes roll back into her head and a shiver run down her spine.

All that was heard in the otherwise silent room were sounds of wet skin meeting harshly each time she pushed herself back onto Rafe. Their lips chased each other in between thrusts, eager to be as close to each other as they possibly could. Sweat pooled in the dip of her back and in the grooves of Rafe's toned stomach, the two of them yearning to reach their ends.

Y/n's bouncing soon turned to lazy, barely motivated rocking as she found herself almost physically unable to continue. The tendons in her thighs were screaming for relief and the heat that surrounded her made her feel like she was trapped in a sauna. She could feel herself right there, right on the brink of getting to where she needed to be, but she was growing frustrated that she wouldn't be able to get them both there on her own.

“Rafe,” Y/N whined as she gripped both of Rafe's shoulders tightly, knuckles growing white from the hold she had on them.

He sensed her weariness, but he was waiting to see how long it would take her to beg for him to take control of the two of them.

She raised her eyes from being buried in Rafe's neck to look at him.

“Please,” she moaned.

“I've got you, baby,” he huffed, barely able to spit the words out between each manual breath.

With one fluid motion, he had her flipped over onto her back and plunged back into her soaking cunt once more. Y/N cried out at the new angle of Rafe on top of her, watching his dainty, silver chain dangle inches away from her face.

“Gonna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that," Rafe muttered into her ear as he mouthed against her neck, “You gonna cum for me first though. Right angel?”

He continued to drill his cock into her heat, each time brushing against the spongey part of her walls that made her thighs shake and reflexively want to close. Rafe caught wind of her trembling and forced her legs open with one of his strong, veiny hands, pressing it even deeper into her chest with his other arm pressed deep into the mattress to balance his body on top of hers. Their stomachs brushed against each other with every thrust, only adding to the overwhelming sensations that they were both feeling.

“Your pussy's so perfect. Like it was made for me," Rafe moaned. "Gonna fuck you like this every night for the rest of my life."

His words of encouragement took her right back to where she was before, right at the brink of breaking. Her moans went up an octave and Rafe could tell by the way she had started to clench around him that she wasn’t going to last much longer. He knew for certain that with the way that her cunt was so expertly gripping his cock that he wasn’t that far behind her.

"Need you to cum, baby. Need to feel it," Rafe was nearing his breaking point, but knew he couldn't be satisfied without feeling her clench around him first.

Unable to speak due to the way he was pounding into her, Y/N gripped Rafe's shoulders even harder than he was fucking her in response. This made Rafe cockily smile and only pushed him to fuck her more fervently and deeper. His hips would certainly leave light purple bruises on hers come morning.

Her release sprung on her quickly, her walls spasming around Rafe's thick, pulsing cock. Y/N let out a sound akin to a high-pitched whine blended perfectly with a scream - it was so beautiful to him. Her orgasm came so suddenly that it caught Rafe off guard as well; he had but mere moments before he found himself filling her up with his warm, milky seed. It was so sudden and intense that it seeped out from around his cock and onto the plush, silky sheets.

They rode it out together, Rafe pumping into her slower and sloppier than just minutes before. Y/N was becoming overwhelmed with the sensation and he was quick to pick up on it. Rafe pulled out slowly, watching Y/N wince as her now-swollen heat contracted around nothing but emptiness. He ran his fingers along her pussy, collecting her wetness and his cum on his digits before gently pressing the mixture back into her core. She hissed at the feeling of him inside of her again and it made Rafe's dick twitch. He could easily go again, but he knew that she couldn't. It was intoxicating to watch her squirm. Next time he thought to himself. He loved to drive her crazy.

They both laid there, Rafe resting his full weight on top of her while they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeats return back to their resting rate. She twiddled with the clasp of Rafe's chain while he pecked soft kisses on her sweat-slick breast with his lips.

"I love you," Y/N sighed, her eyes beginning to close as she teetered the line of consciousness.

"I love you, too," Rafe was just as exhausted as she was. Finally.

When they regained their bearings, Rafe reached across the bed for the shirt he’d pulled off of her body. With caring hands, he cleaned the two of them, tossing the soiled garment somewhere off into the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

“Thank you,” Rafe mumbled into her skin as he crawled back into the covers with her and pulled her into his arms once more.

“Anytime,” she laughed, still somewhat out of breath.

“But will you please go to sleep now? You have a presentation in the morning and you only wake me up to fuck when you can’t sleep so I’m assuming you’ve been awake this whole time,” she sounded like a parent talking to Rafe, which while he would never admit, he adored.

She felt Rafe's laugh reverberate off her chest and shake her body, to which he then promised her he’d be good and go to bed.

Rafe could go on midnight runs and read as much as he could, but nothing could put him to sleep as easily as this.

[heirbane]

i think there could be something said re: gaius and his age gap ships but. i'm not educated enough to form a hypothesis

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing a "Toxic" Character

Toxic Behavior - any kind of behavior that results in unpleasantness for those around you.

This can range from accidentally telling a joke that hurts someone’s feelings to alienating close friends and family through consistently negative and cruel behavior.

In other words, toxic behavior is whatever someone does to bring negativity upon themselves and others.

Everyone can be difficult on occasion, but you want to avoid allowing occasional, accidental toxic behaviors to become a long-term feature of your personality.

It’s one thing to make a selfish decision and meaningfully apologize afterward, but it’s another when it becomes a defining trait.

Even the most toxic people can improve their behavior patterns, so long as they make an earnest effort to understand themselves and become more compassionate.

Even though it might take a lot of self-compassion, patience from friends and family, and a resolute commitment to becoming kinder, it’s well worth it for everyone in the long run.

Prominent Toxic Behavior Traits

Toxicity manifests in numerous ways. If you’re worried you might be consistently exhibiting toxic traits, ask yourself if someone would describe you as having any one of these 5 qualities:

Critical: When people behave in a toxic way, they often blame others for all their problems. Rather than accepting any responsibility for their unhappiness or aggression, they convince themselves they behave this way solely because of the kind of people around them. Ask yourself if you’re quicker to criticize others than to self-reflect.

Manipulative: Controlling behavior, gaslighting, and other forms of manipulation are some of the key signs of a toxic person. Perhaps you try to passive-aggressively get coworkers to do your job for you or try to make family members feel guilty so they’ll do you favors. If you manipulate other people, knowingly or unknowingly, you’re exhibiting a key toxic trait.

Narcissistic: Certain toxic people only look out for themselves. As narcissists, they view their own lives as above anyone else’s. While everyone can veer into self-interest from time to time, this sort of constant self-involvement is a sure sign of toxicity. Think about the last time you put someone else’s needs above your own—if you have a hard time remembering when that was, it might be time for some further self-evaluation and improvement.

Negativity: Toxic people are often negative people. They feel the need to nitpick and criticize the minutiae of their lives, berating friend and foe alike for making things more difficult than they need to be. No one can feel happy all the time, and negativity can balance out positivity on occasion—but if you constantly dwell on things that make you sad or angry, you could be embodying toxic behavior.

Unapologetic: When toxic people lash out at their loved ones, they’re unlikely to ever apologize or see what they’ve done as wrong. This might be because their self-worth is bound up in thinking they must be right at all times and at all costs. Ask yourself whether you ever feel comfortable being wrong. If the answer is no, this might be a toxic trait worth improving.

Tips for How to Not Be Toxic

Devoting yourself to positivity rather than toxicity can prove a boon for both you and all your loved ones. Learn how to stop being toxic with these 7 steps:

Apologize when necessary. Everyone exhibits bad behavior from time to time. Apologize when you act out of line so you can get back to spending time creating positive memories with friends and family.

Assess yourself regularly. Toxic traits often emanate from low self-esteem and unaddressed trauma. Work on bettering your mental health and wellness. Journal out your thoughts to improve your sense of self-awareness.

Be open to feedback. Free and open communication is one key hallmark of healthy relationships. Listen more than you speak. Ask people what you can do so you both can have a good relationship with each other.

Deal with past trauma. There’s an old saying: “Hurt people hurt people.” In other words, people who’ve gone through hard times and are in a painful situation are likely to create hard times and painful situations for others. Seek out help to deal with these very real wounds. No one deserves to suffer, and the sooner you heal, the sooner you can help others heal, too.

Practice mindfulness. Very few people actively set out to be a toxic person, they just fall into toxic habits. Practicing mindfulness meditation gives you the tool kit to break up negative thought patterns and assess why you might behave in a toxic way.

Respect boundaries. Individual toxicity often leads to toxic relationships with others characterized by codependency. Respect people when they set boundaries with you, then pay attention to whether you’re crossing them.

Seek opportunities for compassion. Rather than looking for opportunities to criticize, seek out the ability to be compassionate. Give yourself grace as a form of self-care—remind yourself you’re not a bad person, just someone trying to get through the difficulties of life like anyone else. Forgive others who frustrate or wrong you. Focus on spreading a sense of well-being and you’ll be well on your way to ensuring each day is a positive rather than toxic one.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[anetherealpoetess]

tbh characters like galadriel are more important now than ever. there's morfydd clark saying that every time she's played a human woman, shame has been at the heart of the character, but there is no shame in galadriel.

galadriel turning her back on the ethereal light of elven heaven to hunt down and savage a demigod with her dead brother's dagger, only to accidentally fall in love with that demigod isn't the fragile, guilt-laden journey we're used to seeing women undertake.

it's unapologetic. it's defiant. it's staring into the storm and deciding you have the right to step forward into that tempest. (a decision men have made time and time again in story and in song while women are rarely given the opportunity.) she's not watching the rings of power from a distance. she's the heart of the show, her delirious appetite to kill sauron the only reason the story even exists in the first place. and yes, for those knowingly or unknowingly anxious about women, it's a hard watch. that's exactly why they should watch it.

i love galadriel. i hope she never takes her hand off the hilt of her sword. i hope she never learns shame.

[kinzhae]

"Unrequited Love"

Reader has been in love with Satoru Gojo for years, but Satoru is oblivious and more focused on someone else. As reader grows closer to Suguru Geto, Satoru becomes jealous and realizes his feelings for reader. Eventually, Satoru confesses his love.

Gojo x Reader, High-school au!, more of a oc?, angst? , comfort, fluff, special ending, unrequited love, jealous gojo.

Part 2 - suguru -

"Whats going on between you and suguru?"

The classroom was noisy, filled with the dull hum of chatter and the occasional clatter of a pencil hitting the floor. You sat hunched over your notebook, diligently jotting down notes as the teacher droned on about formulas that seemed to stretch endlessly across the blackboard. Next to you, Satoru lounged in his chair, barely paying attention.

But he wasn’t looking at the equations.

You didn’t have to glance up to know where his gaze was locked—it was the same place it had been for weeks now. You could feel it, the way his attention was entirely absorbed by her. The girl across the room with the soft laugh and the fluttering lashes, the one who had unknowingly—or maybe knowingly—captured his heart.

“She’s so perfect…” Satoru muttered, his voice barely audible but weighted with adoration.

Your pen faltered mid-sentence. You swallowed hard, gripping the pen tighter as you forced yourself to keep writing. His words echoed in your head, their impact much sharper than they should’ve been.

Your best friend. Seven years of laughter, secrets, and late-night conversations—and now, this.

You risked a glance at him. Satoru’s lips were curved into a smile, one so uncharacteristically soft that it sent a pang through your chest. He looked at her like she was the only person in the room. She must have felt his stare because she turned slightly, catching his eye and giggling before quickly looking away.

They were a perfect match, weren’t they? She was sweet, charming, and undeniably pretty. And you? You were just...there.

People joked about you and Satoru all the time, shipping the two of you as if it was some kind of game. "You two are inseparable," they’d say, laughter bubbling up like they were stating the obvious. But every time, Satoru would brush it off with a smirk and a wave of his hand.

“As if,” he’d scoff. “We’re just friends.”

Just friends.

You pressed the pen harder against the page, the ink bleeding into a dark spot as the words blurred in front of you. It wasn’t fair, how much space he occupied in your heart when yours barely registered in his.

“Hey,” Satoru whispered, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

You blinked and turned to him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the ache in your chest. “What?”

“Do you think she likes me back?” he asked, his voice tinged with excitement. His eyes sparkled with the kind of enthusiasm he used to reserve for teasing you about your messy handwriting or begging you to share your snacks.

You hesitated, the lump in your throat growing. She already liked him. It was obvious to everyone, even to you, who had tried so hard not to see it. The stolen glances, the way she laughed just a little too hard at his jokes, the way she seemed to linger around him whenever she got the chance.

“Probably,” you muttered, barely audible. You stared at the scribbled notes in front of you, your vision blurring slightly.

Satoru’s grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair with an almost triumphant look. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said, his voice buzzing with confidence. “I mean, who wouldn’t like me, right?”

You forced a small laugh, the sound hollow to your own ears. “Right,” you murmured, keeping your eyes glued to the page.

He didn’t notice, of course. He was too busy stealing glances at her again, his mind already worlds away from the person sitting next to him.

The rest of the class dragged on, every second feeling heavier than the last. You kept your head down, pouring all your focus into your notes as if they could distract you from the weight in your chest. But it didn’t help. Not when you could still hear the faint sighs of admiration slipping from Satoru’s lips, not when you could still feel his excitement radiating next to you.

When the bell finally rang, you shoved your notebook into your bag with shaky hands, eager to escape. “I’ll see you later,” you said quickly, not waiting for his response as you stood and made your way toward the door.

“Wait—hey, where are you going?” Satoru called after you, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t.

You weaved through the crowded hallway, your head down as you tried to push the thoughts away. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt invisible next to him, and it wouldn’t be the last. But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

By the time you reached the quiet corner of the library, your usual hideout, the tears were already threatening to spill. You slumped into a chair and buried your face in your hands, letting out a shaky breath.

It wasn’t fair. Loving Satoru wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

You thought back to all the times he’d been there for you, his playful grin and easygoing attitude lighting up even your darkest days. You’d fallen for him so gradually, so deeply, that you hadn’t even realized it until it was too late. And now, you were stuck watching him fall for someone else—someone who could give him the kind of happiness you never could.

The thought sent a fresh wave of pain through you, but you swallowed it down. You couldn’t cry here. Not now.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped your eyes and opened your notebook again. If Satoru was happy, that should’ve been enough for you. It had to be.

But as you sat there, staring blankly at the page, a small, bitter part of you wondered if it ever really would be.

The quiet of the library was broken by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. You glanced up, startled, and found none other than Suguru Geto sitting across from you. His usual calm demeanor was intact, but his sharp eyes were fixed on you with an intensity that made you squirm.

“Skipping out on Gojo?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. His voice was low, almost teasing, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity behind it.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to say. Suguru was one of the few people who knew Satoru as well as you did, maybe even better. If anyone could read between the lines, it was him.

“Not skipping,” you mumbled, looking back down at your notebook. “Just needed some air.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Air? In a library?” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

Your pen faltered again, and you let out a quiet sigh, the weight of the day pressing down on you. “Why are you here, Suguru?”

“To check on you,” he said simply.

You blinked, surprised. “Why?”

“Because you looked like you were about to fall apart back there,” Suguru replied, his voice softer now. “And because I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way you look at Satoru.”

Your heart sank, the words hitting harder than you expected. You opened your mouth to deny it, but Suguru cut you off with a small wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “It’s written all over your face. Has been for a while.”

You looked away, the embarrassment and pain swirling together in your chest. “It doesn’t matter,” you muttered. “He’s in love with her.”

Suguru didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he sat back in his chair, studying you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, for someone as sharp as you, you’re pretty stupid sometimes.”

You frowned, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Listen,” Suguru said, leaning forward again. “I’m not saying Satoru doesn’t have a thing for her. He clearly does. But do you honestly think he’d brush you off if you told him how you felt?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stared at him, speechless.

Suguru sighed, shaking his head. “You’re his best friend, you idiot. He cares about you more than you realize. Maybe even more than he realizes.”

A bitter laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “That’s the problem. I’m just his best friend. Nothing more.”

Suguru’s expression softened, and he gave you a small, almost sad smile. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re too scared to find out if that’s really true.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken possibilities. You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, a part of you wondered if he was right.

Before you could respond, Suguru stood, pushing his chair back with an easy grace. “Think about it,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “And if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

You watched him leave, your heart still racing from the conversation. Suguru had always been perceptive, but you hadn’t expected him to see through you so easily.

As you sat there, the notebook in front of you forgotten, his words echoed in your mind.

The days following your conversation with Suguru were...different. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but you found yourself gravitating toward him more often. Maybe it was the way he seemed to genuinely understand you, or maybe it was the subtle kindness in his words, the quiet reassurance that you weren’t as invisible as you felt.

Suguru didn’t pry after that day in the library, but he didn’t pull away either. Instead, he started seeking you out during lunch, sitting next to you in class when Satoru was distracted, and walking you halfway home with casual ease.

At first, it felt strange—foreign even—to have someone’s attention focused on you so completely. But as time went on, you began to relax around him. Suguru’s presence was calming, a stark contrast to Satoru’s endless energy.

You weren’t the only one who noticed the shift.

Satoru was glaring. Not at you, not even at Suguru directly, but it was clear as day. His usual cocky grin was replaced by a tight-lipped expression every time he caught you and Suguru talking.

“Yo,” Satoru called one afternoon, sliding into the seat beside you in class with an exaggerated stretch. “What’s up with you and Suguru lately?”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden question. “What do you mean?”

Satoru tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve been hanging out with him a lot. More than usual.”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “We’re just talking. He’s been helping me out with some stuff.”

“Stuff?” Satoru echoed, his tone sharp. “Since when do you need him for stuff?”

Your chest tightened at the accusation in his voice, and you frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? Suguru’s been a good friend.”

Satoru opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “Nothing. Forget it.”

The awkward tension settled between you, a stark contrast to the easy banter you used to share.

It wasn’t long before Satoru’s irritation bubbled over.

One afternoon, as you and Suguru walked out of the classroom together, Satoru intercepted you in the hallway.

“Hey,” he said, his tone light but forced. His eyes flicked to Suguru, and the tightness in his smile was unmistakable. “Mind if I steal my best friend for a sec?”

Suguru glanced at you, a knowing look passing between you two, before nodding. “Sure. I’ll catch you later.”

The moment Suguru walked away, Satoru turned to you, his expression unreadable.

“What’s going on with you two?” he asked, his voice low.

“What do you mean?” you replied, folding your arms defensively.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Satoru shot back. “Since when are you and Suguru so...close?”

You felt a flicker of frustration. “Why does it matter?”

“It matters because—” He stopped abruptly, running a hand through his hair. “It just does, okay?”

“Why?” you pressed, your voice trembling slightly. “Because you don’t want me to be close to someone else? Because you’re afraid someone might actually notice me?”

Satoru flinched, as if your words had struck a nerve.

“It’s not like that,” he said, his tone softer now. “I just... I don’t want to lose you.”

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard, and you stared at him, your frustration slowly giving way to confusion.

“Lose me?” you echoed.

Satoru looked away, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “You’re my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do if things changed between us.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to them than he was letting on.

“Things are already changing,” you said quietly. “You just didn’t notice until now.”

Satoru’s gaze snapped back to yours, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Fear? Regret? Maybe even jealousy?

Whatever it was, it made your heart ache all over again.

“Satoru…” You hesitated, unsure of what to say. “I’m not going anywhere. But you don’t get to act like this just because someone else is paying attention to me.”

His expression wavered, and for the first time in a long while, Satoru Gojo didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, he just stood there, his silence speaking volumes.

And for the first time, you realized that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as indifferent as he seemed.

Time passed, and your relationship with Suguru settled into something steady and comforting. He became your anchor, a quiet presence who never pried too deeply but always seemed to know when you needed someone to talk to—or when you just needed silence.

But the more time you spent with Suguru, the more obvious it became that whatever existed between you two was purely platonic. Suguru didn’t treat you any differently than he treated others he cared about. His kindness wasn’t exclusive; it was simply who he was. And, honestly, that was okay.

What wasn’t okay, however, was the growing tension between you and Satoru.

Every interaction with him felt charged, as though there were unspoken words hanging in the air, threatening to break free. He was quieter around you lately, more subdued than you’d ever seen him. It wasn’t the Satoru you knew, the one who filled every room he entered with a boundless energy that couldn’t be ignored.

And yet, he never stopped looking at you.

You caught him staring more often than not, his usually bright eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite decipher. You tried to ignore it, brushing off the way your stomach twisted every time you felt his gaze linger.

Until one day, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

---

It was late after school, the sun dipping low in the sky as you packed your things. Most of the students had already left, but you’d stayed behind to finish an assignment. Suguru had offered to walk you home, but you insisted you’d be fine.

As you slung your bag over your shoulder and stepped into the empty hallway, you nearly bumped into Satoru.

“Whoa,” he said, his hands shooting out to steady you. “Careful.”

“Satoru?” you blinked, surprised. “What are you still doing here?”

“I was waiting for you,” he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Your brow furrowed. “Waiting for me? Why?”

He hesitated, his hands slipping into his pockets as he looked away. “Can we talk?”

The weight in his voice made your heart skip a beat. You nodded slowly. “Okay.”

He led you outside, where the cool evening air wrapped around you both. You walked a short distance to a bench under a tree, the silence between you stretching uncomfortably.

Finally, Satoru broke it. “I don’t know how to say this,” he began, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “But I can’t keep it in anymore.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. “Satoru, what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath, his blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “I’ve been an idiot,” he said. “I’ve been so focused on other things—on other people—that I didn’t realize what was right in front of me.”

Your breath hitched, and you opened your mouth to speak, but he continued before you could.

“I didn’t realize how much you mean to me,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “And I’m scared I’ve already screwed it up. But I need you to know—” He paused, his hands clenching into fists. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. You stared at him, stunned, your mind racing.

Satoru looked down, his usual bravado completely gone. “I know I don’t deserve it, not after how I’ve acted. But I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine.”

For a moment, you were silent, the weight of his confession settling over you.

“Satoru…” you finally said, your voice soft. “Why now?”

He looked up, his eyes filled with something you’d never seen before—vulnerability. “Because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you,” he said. “Not to Suguru, not to anyone. I was jealous, and it made me realize how much I care about you. Not as a friend. As...as something more.”

Your heart swelled and ached all at once, the emotions swirling within you almost too much to bear.

“Satoru,” you said again, your voice trembling. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

His eyes widened, hope flickering in their depths. “You mean…?”

“I love you too,” you admitted, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I have for a long time.”

Relief and joy washed over his face, and he let out a shaky laugh. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he said, reaching for your hands.

You let him take them, his touch warm and familiar. And in that moment, it felt like all the pain, all the waiting, had been worth it.

Satoru Gojo wasn’t perfect—far from it. But as he looked at you with more love than you’d ever thought possible, you realized that he was everything you’d ever wanted.

Special:

The warmth of Suguru’s laughter filled the quiet park, the three of you lounging on a patch of soft grass under the shade of a massive tree. It had become a tradition to meet here after long days at school, a space where you could escape the world and just exist together.

Satoru was sprawled out on his back, one arm shielding his eyes from the sun, while Suguru sat cross-legged, his usual calm and collected demeanor on full display. You were sandwiched between them, leaning back on your hands, the breeze tugging gently at your hair.

“I don’t get it,” Satoru grumbled, sitting up abruptly and running a hand through his messy white hair. “Why does he always get the compliments?” He jabbed a finger at Suguru, who raised an eyebrow in mock amusement.

“Maybe because I’m more charming,” Suguru replied, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Charming, my ass,” Satoru scoffed. “You’re just taller. People fall for that whole ‘mysterious guy’ thing you’ve got going on.”

“Ah, so you’re admitting they don’t fall for you?” Suguru quipped, smirking.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their bickering. It was always like this—playful jabs, exaggerated arguments, and you caught somewhere in the middle. But today, there was an ease in the air that made it all feel special, like the world had melted away, leaving just the three of you.

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, raising your hands to placate them. “Let’s not start a war over who’s more likable.”

“Too late,” Satoru said, his blue eyes gleaming mischievously as he nudged you with his shoulder. “You’re the tiebreaker. Who’s better—me or Suguru?”

Suguru chuckled softly, leaning back on his elbows. “Careful, Y/N. Your answer might just end a friendship.”

You rolled your eyes, used to their antics by now. “I’m not picking between you two,” you said firmly, though the smile on your face betrayed your amusement. “You’re both equally annoying.”

Satoru gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Annoying? Me? Impossible.”

Suguru shook his head, his grin widening. “She’s not wrong, though.”

Before Satoru could retort, you added, “But you’re also my favorite people in the world. So stop fishing for compliments.”

The sincerity in your voice seemed to catch them both off guard. Satoru’s teasing expression softened, and Suguru gave you a small, genuine smile.

“Careful,” Suguru said after a moment, his tone light but his gaze warm. “You’re going to make us emotional.”

“Too late,” Satoru said, leaning over to sling an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N’s stuck with us for life, whether she likes it or not.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t shrug him off. “Like I could get rid of you two even if I tried.”

The three of you sat there for a while longer, the teasing giving way to a comfortable silence. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the park, and you found yourself wishing that moments like this could last forever.

Because no matter how chaotic or complicated life got, being with Suguru and Satoru always felt like home.

[ladystoneboobs]

idt we talk enough about how a song of ice and fire is also the song of incest and cannibalism. i mean, sure, obviously both of those subjects are noted as present, but the saga feels much more known for its incest, which idt is fair or accurate to the later materiel. iirc, jaime fucking cersei next to their dead firstborn is the last instance of onpage incest happening in present tl, and after that it's all about the cannibals, baby.

(disclaimer: cw/tw sa, cw/tw rape, and i'm not counting cousincest as that's normal in-world even for non-targaryens and also still legal in many places in our world today, nor counting the faux-incestuous freudian mess that is littlefinger/alayne(sansa)/sweetrobin, nor any dark humor jokes and/or unfulfilled threats wrt forced cannibalism)

in fact pretty much all the active incest during the present tl happens in those first 3 books:

the twincest as a major plot point ofc, kicking action off when bran saw them fucking in a tower

and viserys creeping on dany and twisting her nipple

tyrion relating his backstory to bronn wherein he and tysha were both raped by proxy by his father, tywin (tho tyrion does not use that terminology)

craster still being alive to rape and impregnate his own daughters (resulting in dozens of forced incestuous relationships)

and theon unknowingly groping his own sister while she (knowingly) groped him in return

jaime's early pov recalled how he shut up cersei with kissing when they fought after bran refused to die

bella of stoney sept trying and failing to seduce gendry who is (unbeknownst to them both) her half-brother as both were sired by robert baratheon (only example in these 3 books where incest was averted before any sexual activity or incestuous contact occurred)

the aforementioned sept twincest next to joffrey's corpse

tyrion learning from oberyn about cersei twisting his penis when he was a baby

cersei's failed attempt to seduce jaime in wst, pulling out his dick for either a bj or hj until her talk of tyrion's death made him lose his boner

while incest is not exactly absent from the text after that, it seems to exist in the feastdance only in hypotheticals or past memories:

aeron's trauma flashbacks of his (implied only in published text) csa by euron

jaime still feeling lust when seeing cersei nude

and her fond reminiscing about them fucking behind robert's back/brief dream of them as a married couple before her walk of shame

victarion misinterpreting asha's offer of partnership as a marriage proposal and suddenly looking at his niece in a new way with "his manhood beginning to stiffen"

jaime's recollection of fucking cersei at darry next to robert as he was passed out drunk before cersei sent him to hunt arya (which would have happened back in agot and the point of this scene is more his failed hunt for a child just to make cersei happy)

arianne's "uneasy" memory of a past fantasy about being seduced by a man whose description is suspiciously similar to her late uncle oberyn

the aborted marital match of aegon/young griff to his purported aunt dany

illyrio saying (the now dead) viserys tried to rape dany the night before her wedding to drogo (another event from agot concerning a guy we already knew was into incest)

and tyrion once saying he wanted to rape as well as murder cersei

conversely, the cannibalism in the earlier books is most often only unproven hypotheticals alluded to as possible cannibalism:

old nan saying the others fed their dead servants the flesh of human children (which we have not yet seen with any wights so far, whether or not one counts walking undead eating human flesh as straight-up cannibalism)

the mystery meat in flea bottom's bowls o' brown which may or may not contain symon silver tongue after tyrion had him killed

renly's recollection that cressen kept stannis from catapulting their old master-at-arms by saying they may need to eat him later (which did not come to pass thanks to davos)

joffrey telling his people to eat their own dead (with no way of knowing if any actually did)

lady hornwood eating her own fingers

the mentions of the ice river clans being the cannibals beyond the wall (who are def not among the free folk jon snow gets to know onpage, making it just background detail)

bran's (possibly mythical) story of the rat cook

and biter chewing on people he attacked and other corpses (which seems to be just a side hobby connected to his killing method moreso constituting a snack than a full meal from a person butchered for meat. this tendancy of his is just background detail in acok, with biter chewing a corpse in the background after the weasel soup operation, and the hindsight implication that it could well have been him rather than dogs or wolves who had "been at" the corpses after the skirmish where yoren was killed)

while the feastdance feels much more in your face with cannibalism, having not only more total mentions of the practice but also more confirmed, actual cannibalism (as opposed to the ambiguity of each and every bowl o' brown), for those who know how to look at the evidence:

jaime learned that his father's mad dog aka the mountain fed parts of vargo hoat to all his prisoners (including vargo himself) after recapturing harrenhal

jaime then recalled tales of danelle lothston presiding over feasts of human flesh in harrenhal

and euron bragged about pulling a similar trick with the warlocks he captured (the only twist being that the warlocks knew what they were being forced to eat, which vargo hoat and wylis manderly etc at harrenhal likely didn't)

the elder brother of the quiet isle told of biter eating all of a woman's breasts at saltpans after she'd been raped and killed (prob the largest amount of flesh biter's confirmed to have eaten from one corpse)

bran and co. ate "pig" supplied by coldhands which had to be long pig aka human meat

brienne felt her face being eaten by biter in her own pov (which is so much worse than him chewing others in the background of the weasel soup scene)

theon was told that two ironmen at moat cailin were found eating their dead comrades

the astapori were said to eat their own dead while under siege by the yunkishmen

and then were said to do so again in refugee camps outside meereen

sam and davos sailed past skagos and each remembered stories of skagosi cannibalism

khrazz the pit fighter cut the hearts from his defeated foes to eat them

cotter pyke's last letter to jon snow said the wildlings were eating their own dead at hardhome

4 of stannis's men were executed by burning for butchering and eating dead men (with asha wondering how many others had done so without being caught)

and ofc the frey pies with wyman manderly having his 3 former guests killed and serving their meat to their own kin and the other guests at ramsay's wedding while eating some himself too

two of these examples (involving gregor clegane and euron greyjoy) must have actually happened during the course of asos, but grrm chose to give us the gruesome details in affc, which was brand new information about men we already knew were villains but did not know were into that fucked-up shit specifically, unlike being reminded that agot-era jaime and viserys wanted to fuck their sisters. it's as if after craster was killed and jc effectively broke up grrm decided cannibalism was the taboo subject matter he would fill the later books with, so we'd really feel the increasing danger of starvation-induced cannibalism with winter's arrival (and have no trouble believing rickon's new home of skagos really is a cannibal island). however, in-universe it feels like there's some sort of environmental balance connection so that the decrease in one formerly common behaviorial abomination just allows another such abomination to fill in the gap with a sharp increase in activity, like deer overpopulation resulting from lack of predators as if all the active incest somehow stopped more people from eating themselves or other people.

[honeyhaeya]

(1/2)🖇 ༘ ⋆"Moved On Not "

' ╰┈ 'you wore his hoodie home. it still smelled like him. and god, you swore you could still feel his hands on your waist'

' .☘︎ ݁˖' '연준 x f!reader

🎧ྀི 'ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Diet Pepsi (Addison Rae)

♫⋆₊˚ ﾟ. 'ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre / tags: fluff, smut, emotional tension, friends to lovers, teasing & possessive!yeonjun, intense makeouts, lap-sitting, domestic moments, long build-up, jealousy, banter, soft aftercare, sunrise sex ੈ✩‧₊˚ warnings: NSFW WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT ! explicit language, emotionally vulnerable scenes, mention of alcohol (responsibly), jealousy themes, minor angst (resolved), tension from miscommunication, reader is bold, story contains mature themes ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗ nsfw warnings: porn with little plot (AT LEAST) - oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), praise kink, hair pulling, neck kissing/biting, dirty talk, soft dom!yeonjun, riding, creampie implied, overstimulation, light marking (hickeys), possessiveness (you’re mine energy), emotionally charged sex, aftercare (wiping, cuddling, forehead kisses), clingy!yeonjun post-sex, reader takes control at times ✩‧₊˚ wc: 5558ੈ ੈ♡ a/n: my laptop just recently broke which is why i didn't get to update here on tumblr :// editing here on my phone is so damn hard, i almost didn't post this. lately, I've been in love with yeonjun cause he's so so so much prettier in person. 1/2 chapters ! chapter 2 is posted

This wasn’t what you had in mind at all.

You thought the class reunion dinner would be a predictable, boring affair—filled with awkward small talk, forced laughter, and empty reminiscing. But then he walked in.

The one person who had unknowingly held your heart hostage all throughout high school. The one you swore you'd moved on from.

One year had passed since graduation, and not once had you crossed paths with him again. You thought the feelings were long gone—buried with teenage dreams and unspoken confessions. But the moment his eyes met yours across the restaurant, the moment he strolled in with that damned smirk—the very same one that made your heart skip back in first year—it all came rushing back like a punch to the gut.

"Hey," Karina said, patting your head and tugging you out of your trance, her hand messing up the perfectly styled strands she helped you curl earlier. Her eyes narrowed at you knowingly, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Stop drooling. He hasn’t even taken his jacket off yet.”

You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks. She knew. Of course she knew. She was the first person you ever told about your ridiculous crush on him, and probably the last. You knew she’d set something up later if you didn’t make a move tonight—and that alone had you shaking your head in silent panic.

But it was already too late.

Out of all the empty seats in the restaurant, Yeonjun made his way to the one right beside you and sat down, casually greeting the table. Your breath hitched. The air around you thickened, your awareness of his presence suddenly heightened.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth, familiar in a way that made your chest ache. “Still stunning as always.”

His gaze lingered on the dress you wore, the one Karina and Winter picked out with hushed squeals and knowing looks earlier that evening. You looked good. You felt good. But under Yeonjun’s gaze, you suddenly felt exposed—like he could read everything you tried to bury behind your quiet smile.

“You clean up well yourself,” you replied softly, your lips curving in a polite smile. Your eyes flickered to his, just for a second, before darting elsewhere—almost as if dismissing the conversation before it could even begin.

It was a habit. One you never quite broke.

And Yeonjun noticed. Always noticed. That was his biggest frustration with you back then. No matter how many times he tried to get close, it always felt like you were slipping away. Like you were building walls the moment he tried to peer in.

Did he make you uncomfortable? The thought had haunted him more than he cared to admit.

But tonight, he wasn’t going to miss his chance again.

“I’ve been doing alright these past few years,” he said, steadying himself. You looked too beautiful tonight to ignore. “It’s really nice seeing you again, you know. You’re… refreshing to look at.”

You smiled, nodding politely. “I can say the same for you,” you murmured, your heart hammering against your ribs.

He blinked. You said it so casually—but the words clung to him like hope. Still, unsure of your tone, he turned his attention back to the group, not wanting to push too hard.

The night wore on, laughter echoing around the table, glasses clinking, and the heady scent of food and alcohol mixing in the air. You were smiling, laughing quietly when the jokes got a little too funny—but always from the edge of the circle, never the center.

Yeonjun watched you more than he watched anyone else.

He noticed the way you covered your mouth when you giggled. The way your eyes sparkled at jokes, especially his. It made him want to say the worst ones just to earn that small laugh again.

Under the table, Winter nudged you with her foot. You turned to her, brows lifting in question. She didn’t speak—just got up, waiting for you to follow. Curious, you did.

She led you to the hallway, away from the buzz of the reunion. The moment you stepped out, she turned to you with wide, excited eyes. “Okay, don’t freak out,” she said, practically vibrating with energy. “Beomgyu just asked if he could take you out to dinner sometime!”

You blinked. “…Beomgyu?”

Winter beamed, looking more thrilled than you felt. Karina trailed behind her, arms crossed with a sigh.

“You mean the same Beomgyu who’s made it his life mission to bully me since freshman year?” you deadpanned, one brow raised.

Winter rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. He’s not bullying you. He’s teasing you. There’s a difference. Besides, he’s into you. Always has been.”

You and Karina exchanged a look—hers unreadable, yours full of disbelief—before silently turning back toward the party.

And still… Yeonjun’s lingering glance at you, the soft tilt of his head, the way your heart jumped at his laugh… that stayed with you longer than you expected.

You returned to the table, trying to pretend like your heart wasn’t racing. You slid back into your seat, offering a half-smile to whoever noticed your absence. Yeonjun’s arm was now resting casually behind your chair, not touching, but close enough that the warmth of his presence made your skin tingle.

You didn't even have to look—you knew he was watching you.

Karina leaned in slightly, murmuring under her breath, “So? What was that about?”

You rolled your eyes. “Winter’s matchmaking again.”

“Ah,” Karina said knowingly, following your gaze to where Beomgyu was laughing with some of your old classmates across the room. “The human embodiment of chaos.”

“He asked if he could take me out,” you muttered, picking up your glass again, lips barely touching the rim. “Winter looked like she was gonna explode with excitement.”

Karina hummed. “And how do you feel about it?”

You hesitated. Your eyes flicked to your left—Yeonjun was laughing at something Soobin said, his dimples deep, the corners of his eyes creased in that boyish, devastating way.

“I don’t know,” you said truthfully. “I thought I’d be over him by now.”

Karina gave you a soft look, one that said she knew exactly who him was.

“You can’t just switch off a three-year crush like a light, Y/N.”

You were about to respond when Yeonjun turned to you, voice smooth, confident again, like it hadn’t cracked once back there when he first saw you.

“Hey,” he said, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “You disappeared for a second.”

You swallowed. “Winter needed to talk to me.”

His eyes searched yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke. The noise of the table blurred in the background. There was something unspoken passing between you—an almost—but not quite.

You weren’t sure what possessed you in that moment, maybe it was the buzz of the beer, or the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing worth looking at, but you leaned in, just enough, and said, “Did you miss me?”

It was playful. Teasing.

But it landed.

Yeonjun blinked, taken aback—but only for a second. That smile, the one that ruined you years ago, curved back onto his lips.

“Of course,” he said. “You’ve always been a hard one to ignore.”

Your breath caught. Your heart did a little flip-flop thing, and Karina, the ever-present observer, raised her brows behind her glass with a silent finally.

You looked down at your lap for a moment, trying to compose yourself.

Before either of you could say more, someone shouted from across the table, “Truth or drink!”

You groaned.

Yeonjun just chuckled.

Someone shoved a bottle to the center of the table and spun it—glasses were being filled, rules shouted over one another, people already choosing chaos. You thought you might escape this mess, until the bottle slowed… and landed on Yeonjun.

All eyes turned to him.

Soobin grinned. “Truth or drink, Jun.”

Yeonjun glanced at you briefly, then looked back at the table. “Truth,” he said.

Soobin leaned in like this was a setup. “Alright. Did you ever have a crush on someone at this table?”

The table erupted with oooohs and gasps and laughter.

Yeonjun’s eyes didn’t leave yours.

The teasing smile dropped into something softer, something real. His voice was calm when he replied.

“Yeah,” he said. “I still do.”

Your breath hitched.

You didn’t look away—not even when your pulse spiked and Karina elbowed you under the table. Winter’s jaw was practically on the floor.

Yeonjun still had a crush?

You didn’t get the chance to respond—because right after that drop of a confession, Taehyun groaned, “Okay, this is getting too wholesome. Let’s spice it up.”

“I second that,” Beomgyu chimed in, already tipsy and too loud. “Truth or dare, people. Come on, we’re not in middle school anymore.”

The energy shifted instantly. Someone clapped. Bottles were refilled. You laughed nervously, clutching your glass tighter.

Soobin leaned forward, spinning the bottle again, and when it stopped—right in front of you—everyone turned in anticipation.

You blinked.

“Y/N,” Soobin said with a grin, clearly enjoying this too much. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said without thinking.

“Lame,” Karina muttered, but she was grinning too.

Soobin rested his chin on his hand, tilting his head in that charming, innocent-looking way that was anything but innocent. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Who was your high school crush?”

Immediate chaos.

Winter gasped. Karina started chanting “SAY IT. SAY IT.” The table erupted in whoops and teasing, while you nearly melted into the floor.

You didn’t answer. You were too busy trying not to make eye contact with the one person whose gaze was already burning a hole into the side of your face.

“I’ll drink,” you muttered, reaching for your glass.

“Oh, come on,” Soobin said, still grinning. “Don’t tell me you were into someone boring like Mr. Han from chemistry class.”

“Mr. Han was married,” you shot back, eyes narrowing—but your heart was racing.

“Well, if you're not gonna say it...” Soobin leaned in a little more. “Wanna give me a hint? Was it someone as charming as me?”

That made you laugh, even as your cheeks flushed. “You’re unbelievable.”

He smirked. “But am I wrong?”

Before you could answer, Yeonjun suddenly shifted beside you. He reached over, his arm brushing against yours—deliberately this time—and took the bottle. “My turn to spin,” he said coolly.

Soobin raised a brow but sat back, clearly amused.

Yeonjun spun the bottle, eyes never leaving yours.

It stopped—on Karina.

“Dare,” she said immediately.

Yeonjun smiled. “Switch seats with me.”

The table went silent. You froze.

Karina blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” Yeonjun said, already standing. “Let me sit there—” he gestured at the seat across the table, next to Soobin, “—and you sit here.”

Karina looked at you, then back at him, her expression somewhere between smug and surprised. “Wow,” she said under her breath. “Bold.”

But she stood up anyway.

Yeonjun sat back down—closer than before—and the moment Karina left, he leaned toward you, voice low enough that only you could hear.

“I don’t like how he talks to you.”

You turned your head, startled. “What?”

Yeonjun smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Soobin. He flirts with everyone, I get it. But with you? Nah.”

“You’re being—”

“Possessive?” he cut in, eyes flicking down to your lips before returning to your gaze. “Maybe. Can’t help it when it comes to you.”

Your throat went dry.

And then, in the background, Beomgyu shouted, “Okay, next round! And no more skipping dares!”

You didn’t even care.

Because Yeonjun was still looking at you like you were his, and maybe—just maybe—you wanted to be.

“Alright, alright,” Beomgyu hiccuped, eyes glassy with mischief, “since everyone’s too scared to admit their crushes, next round’s dare only.”

Everyone groaned, but Soobin was already spinning the bottle again.

It landed on Yeonjun.

The table collectively ooh’ed.

“You better make this one count,” Taehyun grinned, leaning forward. “We’ve been waiting for years, man.”

Yeonjun leaned back coolly, one arm stretched behind you on the booth’s top. “Hit me.”

Soobin’s grin turned devilish. “I dare you… to kiss the person you had a crush on during high school.”

You choked on your drink.

The table exploded. Winter shrieked. Karina howled like she was on a game show. “THIS IS BETTER THAN NETFLIX!” "This is kinda cheesy." Winter muttered, enjoying the events around her.

Yeonjun looked unbothered. He glanced around, as if thinking, just to tease—then his eyes locked on yours. Steady. Hot.

And before you could react, he leaned in.

You could barely breathe.

His hand brushed your jaw, tilting your face toward him gently. “You okay with this?” he murmured.

You nodded.

His lips brushed yours, soft but sure, enough to set your whole body on fire. It wasn’t a drunken dare. It wasn’t casual. It was a declaration.

The table went dead silent for a moment. Then erupted.

“Oh my GOD—” Winter yelled.

“You two have been the biggest slowburn in history,” Karina said, dramatically wiping away fake tears with a napkin.

You were flushed, dazed, laughing through the heat of your embarrassment. Yeonjun just smirked, brushing his thumb against the back of your hand under the table.

The game kept going, messier now. More drunk, more unhinged.

Karina ended up doing a handstand against a wall.

Winter accidentally confessed her 2020 situationship with Beomgyu that no one knew about.

And eventually, the group started breaking up, people calling Ubers, hugging goodbye, swaying in their shoes.

Karina was flat-out giggling into your shoulder. “I’m gonna throw up in Yeonjun’s car, heehee.”

“You’re not even in his car.”

“Yet.”

Yeonjun appeared at your side, offering his jacket like a silent knight. “You good?”

You nodded. “They’re trashed.”

“I figured.” He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You wanna come with me? I’ll take you home.”

“Can you take all three of us?”

“Obviously.” He looked smug. “But only one gets shotgun.”

Winter hiccupped. “I call trunk.”

Yeonjun helped you both get them into the car, Karina now passed out on Winter’s shoulder in the backseat.

The car was quiet as he drove. You watched the city blur past, heart still racing from earlier.

Karina stirred behind you. “Y/N?”

You turned. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad it’s Yeonjun,” she slurred softly. “He’s like… obsessed with you. Been obsessed since sophomore year. This is me… officially giving my blessing.”

You flushed instantly. Yeonjun laughed, low and soft, his hand gripping the wheel tighter.

“Thanks, Karina,” he said.

Then she added, “Don’t be shy, you can totally make out with her in the front seat. I’m not watching. Zzz.”

You groaned. “Oh my god—”

“Tempting,” Yeonjun muttered under his breath, giving you a teasing side glance that made your breath hitch again.

When he finally pulled up in front of your place, he parked but didn’t turn the engine off.

“I’ll walk them in,” he said, unbuckling. “Then I’ll come back… if you want me to.”

You bit your lip, heartbeat thudding.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I want you to.”

And god, the way he smiled at that?

You knew tonight was only the beginning.

He came back after making sure Karina and Winter were both inside and passed out, leaning on your doorframe like he had no right looking that good after babysitting two grown women.

You were waiting just outside the building, jacket tugged tighter around you, and as soon as he reached you, he tilted his head. “You didn’t go in?”

You shrugged. “Thought I’d say thank you properly.”

“Thank me?”

“For the ride. For not losing your mind dealing with them. For the… dare,” you added, lips curving up slightly.

Yeonjun’s smirk grew. “That didn’t feel like a dare to me.”

You looked away quickly, heart pounding. “Shut up.”

He stepped closer.

“Look at me.”

You did.

The streetlamp cast a soft glow over his face, and god, his eyes—they weren’t teasing now. They were hungry. Honest.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured. “You’ve always looked stunning. But tonight, you actually destroyed me.”

“Yeonjun…”

He reached out, hand slipping to your waist, tugging you close until your chest nearly pressed against his.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, voice lower now. “Three years of watching you keep your distance, laughing at my jokes but brushing me off, looking at me like you wanted me but never saying anything.”

“I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I was,” he breathed. “And I still am.”

And then he kissed you again—but this time, it wasn’t soft. It was everything he’d been holding back.

You gasped into his mouth, and that was enough for him to deepen it, one hand cradling your jaw, the other slipping down to your lower back to press you even closer. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself, your knees practically buckling under the weight of him.

His mouth moved against yours, confident, hungry, like he was memorizing every inch of you. And when he pulled back—barely an inch—he whispered against your lips:

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you wanted me back then.”

Your breath hitched. “I did.”

He grinned. “And now?”

You smirked, tugging him closer by the collar. “Now, I want you in my apartment. But let’s start with round two of that kiss.”

Yeonjun groaned, like you were physically killing him. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“You’ve survived three years,” you whispered, “you’ll survive the night.”

And just like that, the door behind you opened with a loud creak—and Karina, bleary-eyed and holding a water bottle, blinked at you both.

“Oh,” she said slowly. “So… we’re past the flirting phase?”

You shoved your face into Yeonjun’s shoulder with a mortified groan while he laughed. "What are you doing in my apartment?"

Karina smirked. “Okay, carry on. I'm leaving... Just don’t make it weird. And tell him you talk about him all the time when you’re drunk.”

“I don’t! ” you yelled.

Yeonjun just beamed, clearly storing every bit of that info for later. “Good to know.”

And when Karina disappeared again, he leaned down one more time.

“Apartment or car?” he whispered.

“Door’s right there,” you said, breathless.

“Then let’s go. I’m not wasting another night not having you.”

You barely made it past the door before Yeonjun had you pressed up against it, his mouth claiming yours like he couldn’t breathe unless he had you. His hands roamed—one sliding up your thigh, hitching your dress up slightly, the other braced by your head.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, and god, he groaned into the kiss like he was finally tasting something he’d been starving for.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he muttered against your lips, "how many times I’ve had to walk away from you because I thought I didn’t stand a chance."

You whispered against his skin, “Then don’t walk away now.”

That flipped a switch.

He lifted you easily, like you weighed nothing, carrying you deeper into your apartment as your legs wrapped around his waist. You were both laughing into each other’s mouths, breathless, drunk off each other, barely able to navigate the hallway from how distracted he was getting with your neck, your shoulder, your little whimpers every time his teeth grazed skin.

He found your bedroom like he lived there—you wouldn’t be surprised if he had the blueprint memorized at this point.

You landed on your back, dress hitched up, Yeonjun crawling over you with the softest grin and the hungriest look in his eyes. His fingers traced your thigh slowly, reverently, and he leaned in close, lips brushing your ear.

“Tell me to stop.”

You looked up at him, pupils blown, lips swollen, heart thundering.

“Don’t you dare.”

He kissed you again—slower this time, deeper. Like he was trying to pour three years’ worth of tension, longing, and restraint into every movement. His hands were everywhere—memorizing you, worshipping you like you were something he’d dreamed about for too damn long.

Clothes came off in between feverish kisses and whispered confessions.

“You always made me nervous,” he admitted against your shoulder. 

“You made me crazy,” you replied, threading your fingers through his hair. 

“You’re making me lose my mind right now.”

You smiled, breathless, lips brushing his. “Good. I want to drive you insane.”

And oh, you did.

Every roll of your hips had Yeonjun cursing under his breath, his grip on your waist bruising as he held you down against him. The friction was delicious, every slow grind of his cock in you dragging a groan from his throat that vibrated against your collarbone as he buried his face there, panting like he was losing control—and god, he was.

“Fuck, baby…” he breathed, hands roaming over every curve, every inch of skin like he didn’t know where to touch first. “You feel—god, you feel so good.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him growl. He pushed his hips up into yours with a desperation that made your head spin, and the sound that left your throat was shameless—needy and breathless and entirely his fault.

“You like teasing me, huh?” he whispered, voice low and ragged as his lips trailed down your neck. “Grinding on me like this… wearing that dress like you didn’t know what it’d do to me?”

His hand slid down, fingers gripping under your thigh to guide your rhythm—slower, deeper, making your breath catch.

“You’ve been in my head for years, Y/N. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your reply was a whimper against his lips, your hands slipping beneath his shirt, nails dragging down his back as your bodies moved in sync—hot, slick, desperate for more but not ready to stop tasting each other yet. He kissed you hard, messy, tongue claiming yours as your hips rolled again, earning another moan from him, rougher this time.

It wasn’t just sex.

It was years of holding back, crashing into one night of hands and mouths and whispered confessions between kisses. A fever that wouldn’t break until you both came undone in each other’s arms.

And he wasn’t stopping until he had all of you—sighs, moans, trembling legs, and whispered “Yeonjun”s falling from your lips like they were meant for him and him only.

The sun hadn’t fully risen yet—warm light leaking in through the curtains, casting soft gold over tangled sheets and bare skin. Yeonjun was still on his back, chest rising and falling beneath you, but his eyes—dark, half-lidded, hungry—never left yours.

“Couldn’t get enough last night?” he rasped, voice ruined from moaning your name into the dark hours ago.

You smirked, slow and dangerous, palms splayed across his chest as you leaned down, brushing your lips over his just barely. “Did I say I was done?”

His hands found your hips in an instant—like they’d memorized the shape of you already—thumbs dragging lazy circles into your skin as you sank down on him again, slow and deliberate. The breath he let out? Shaky. Deep. A low groan that shot straight through you.

“Shit, baby—” he hissed, head falling back into the pillow, jaw clenched like he was trying not to lose it. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You rolled your hips, grinding against him, watching the way his lips parted, the way his grip on your waist tightened. The way his eyes fluttered shut when you clenched around him on purpose, testing his control.

"You look good like this," you whispered, leaning in, kissing just below his ear. "All needy underneath me."

Yeonjun’s response was to buck his hips up—hard—and you gasped, hands flying to his chest for balance, a moan slipping from your lips before you could stop it. He grinned, smug and breathless.

“Thought you were in charge, sweetheart?”

You were. Oh, you were. And you showed him exactly how much—riding him slow at first, then faster, chasing that high again as the room filled with nothing but the sound of skin meeting skin, choked moans, and the low, filthy things he was whispering against your lips.

“Faster, baby—fuck, just like that—” 

“You feel so good—so tight—” 

“I’m not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that.”

It was messy, desperate, bodies slick with heat and want. You moved like you needed him to feel everything—every roll, every clench, every shake of your thighs as you pushed him right to the edge.

And when he came undone beneath you, cursing your name like a prayer, holding you tight like you were the only thing that existed—you knew neither of you were walking out of this as just “friends from high school” again.

No. 

This was the beginning of something else entirely.

Your phone lit up from where it had been abandoned on the nightstand, buzzing nonstop like it was ready to expose your sins to the world.

Karina: so???? Karina: did you ride him or nah??? Karina: yk what nvm—i saw his post of you Karina: YOU'RE DONE.

You slapped a hand over your face, burying deeper into the sheets, the scent of him still clinging to every inch of your skin. God. You were sore in places you didn’t even know could be sore. Your thighs were still trembling. And to make it worse, you could hear the faint sound of Winter giggling in the kitchen through your phone speaker—she was apparently replaying the video of you stumbling into Yeonjun’s apartment last night, all breathless and flustered.

Then—

Karina: he’s in the shower, right? get in there and make it round 3, queen. don’t let those thighs rest yet.

Your face burned.

Before you could throw your phone into the void, the bathroom door creaked open and Yeonjun peeked out, hair wet, towel slung low on his hips, steam curling around him like he walked out of a drama fantasy.

“What’s got you hiding like that?” he grinned, leaning on the doorframe. “Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

You threw a pillow at him. He caught it with one hand, cocky as ever, then walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I left the water running, y’know,” he murmured, hand trailing under the sheets, over your knee. “You can still join me. I’ll be gentle…”

You snorted. “You? Gentle? After last night?”

“Okay,” he laughed, leaning down until his forehead rested against yours. “Maybe not. But you weren’t exactly complaining.”

You gave him a shove, but your fingers curled into his towel anyway. “Five more minutes, then I’ll come. You better not waste all the hot water.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a smirk, kissing the corner of your lips. “I’ll keep you warm.”

cut to Karina and Winter on the group chat an hour later:

Winter: guys she's not answering. she’s either dead or— Karina: no babe she’s just being put in missionary with love rn. Winter: god i hope so. she deserves it.

The bathroom was warm with steam, water fogging up the mirror as you leaned back against the tile, chest heaving, lips swollen from how hungrily he had kissed you the moment the door closed.

Yeonjun didn’t waste time.

“Turn around,” he whispered, voice hoarse, hands trailing down your hips like he was savoring every inch. “Wanna see you dripping for me.”

And you did. The second your hands touched the wall, he stepped closer—his body flush against yours, hard and already twitching at the sight of your ass arching back toward him.

“Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he groaned, pressing kisses down your neck before biting at your shoulder, making you gasp.

His fingers slid between your thighs, parting you open with practiced ease, teasing your entrance while the water beat down on your skin. “Still so wet,” he murmured, like he didn’t just have you moaning his name minutes ago.

“You gonna keep teasing me or—”

He pushed in all at once.

The moan that ripped from your throat was shameless.

So was the way your hands flew to the wall to support yourself, legs already shaking. “Y-Yeonjun—”

“Say it again,” he hissed into your ear, snapping his hips hard against yours, “Say my name.”

“Yeonjun!”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he growled, fingers gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. “This pretty pussy’s mine now, yeah?”

You nodded desperately, gasping when he pulled out almost entirely—only to slam back in deeper, harder, hitting that spot that made your whole body jolt.

And he didn’t stop.

He fucked you like he’d been waiting years for this. Like he needed to memorize every sound you made, every time your voice broke from pleasure, every time your walls clenched around him so tight he had to bite back a moan of his own.

The slap of skin echoed with the water, your breath fogging up the glass as your hands braced against the tiles.

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m close,” you whimpered, and Yeonjun’s hand reached around to rub your clit in tight, firm circles.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathed. “Let go for me.”

And you did—with a cry, legs trembling, walls fluttering around him like a vice, pulling him right over the edge with you.

He groaned your name into your skin, thrusts becoming erratic until he spilled inside you, hips stuttering before finally stilling. He leaned against your back, kissing your shoulder lazily as the water continued to pour over your bodies.

You were both breathless, soaked, and ruined.

“Holy shit,” you laughed weakly. “That was…”

“A religious experience?” he offered with a smirk, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You swatted at him, half-laughing, half-mortified. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love it,” he said, nuzzling into your neck. “And now you’re stuck with me.”

You didn’t say it out loud—but yeah. You were.

Very happily stuck.

The towel was barely hanging on your hips, your legs trembling as Yeonjun scooped you up from the shower floor—literally. You clung to him, chest against his, your head dropping to his shoulder as he carried you out like you were weightless.

“Gonna kill me, Junnie,” you mumbled, voice hoarse, barely audible.

He chuckled, smug and breathless. “You started it, sweetheart.”

“You started it... back in high school,” you slurred, half-sassy, half-gone.

Yeonjun grinned so wide his cheeks ached. “So you have been thinking about me.”

“Nooo,” you whined as he laid you down on the soft of his bed, sheets cool against your heated skin. “Can’t even feel my legs. You broke me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” he teased, tucking the blanket over you and kissing your damp forehead. “You were riding me like a champ twenty minutes ago.”

You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head. “Don’t remind me.”

“Why not?” he cooed, slipping under the covers beside you. “I was gonna ask if you were up for another round.”

You yanked the blanket tighter over your face. “Yeonjun.”

“What?” His hand snuck under the blanket to rub gentle circles into your thigh. “You’re the one making those little noises when I kiss your neck like this…” He leaned down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the spot just beneath your ear, smirking when your breath hitched.

“Yeonjun.”

“You’re saying my name again. I love that.”

You peeked out from under the covers, giving him your most exasperated glare. “My pussy’s literally sore.”

Yeonjun’s smirk faltered—but not from guilt. No, he looked even more wrecked by that. He groaned lowly, head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t say that unless you want me to stay hard forever.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“And you’re irresistible.” He lifted his head, brushing a kiss to your lips. “Get some rest, baby. I’ll deal with the boner you gave me in the shower.”

You blinked at him. “Again?”

“Look,” he said, dramatically. “I got a naked, dripping wet goddess grinding on me, saying my name like a prayer—and then had to carry her limp body to bed. What else was I supposed to do in there?”

You giggled, cheeks burning. “You’re sick.”

“I’m in love,” he corrected, brushing hair from your face. “And maybe a little sick.”

You hummed, snuggling closer. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I know,” he whispered, kissing the crown of your head. “Sleep, baby. I’ll be here.”

And he was—pressing light kisses to your temple as your breathing slowed, arms wrapped protectively around your sore, satisfied body.

Still hard. Still down bad. Still so stupidly in love.

a/n: hi y'all. I've been gone again for quite a while and my fanfics are rotting in my drafts on wattpad lmao. i made like, another yeonjun fic. DW this ff is already finished but it might take me a while to post it again cause like i said, my laptop broke and editing here on a phone is not efficient. i survived though. LMK IF I FORGOT ANYTHING THAT I SHOULD'VE POSTED.

also, repost the post if you want to be added in the taglist :)) THANKYOU FOR READINGGGG MWAS

<to read next chapter tap the underlined>

[project-sekai-facts]

What grinds my gears is what when people say that the reason Kana5 is bad due to it trying to make Mafumon sympathetic.

A couple have even gone as far as saying that Kana5 is as bad as Toya5 for the same reason and I-

Look. I deeply understand the idea of abusers being more complicated than simply “evil trash” is hard to comprehend. And I may sound insensitive but,

They need to grow up. They should not let their biases cloud their judgement and assume something is bad just because a piece of media has something they personally don’t like

the difference between harumichi and mafuyumum is their awareness.

harumichi - fully aware of what he is doing, fully aware his son is his own person and does not stop him despite heavy disapproval

mafumum - completely oblivious to what she is doing to mafuyu, projecting an idealised version of mafuyu onto her (and possibly an idealised version of herself)

harumichi working toya to the bone is him applying how he learnt to toya. the intent was not to physically/emotionally harm toya but that is what ended up happening (physical exhaustion is to be expected, he should not have forced toya to keep working but he deals with the same so he probably doesn't think it's a big deal). that said, he is fully aware of the fact he is taking away from toya's childhood, and admits this in concerto that toya's life was not "normal".

mafumum is entirely unaware of her abuse to mafuyu. this is repeatedly made clear in events post sayonara persona. mafudad relays to her what mafuyu tells him and she's incredibly distressed to learn that she'd been hurting mafuyu and she doesn't know what she did wrong. she can be manipulative, but she's not aware that she's being malicious, she thinks she's genuinely doing what's best for her child who she loves. there's also some context clues such as her young age compared to other parents, the fact she doesn't have a job and the fact she's at a lower social standing to her husband that suggest she may also be projecting the life she didn't get onto mafuyu.

harumichi being given the attempted sympathetic backstory doesn't work. he is neglectful towards his son, but is slowly easing out of these ways a little bit. toya has already begun to make ammends without the need for making harumichi sympathetic. he's a bad parent who did a bad thing knowingly.

with mafumum it is justified. in her first appearance, we see her from the biased viewpoint of kanade, who sees her as a cold and neglectful parent towards mafuyu. however from mafuyu's pov, she is a loving mother who is misguided in how she shows this love. this is what unreliable notes is about. mafumum is a bad parent who did a bad thing unknowingly. she is sympathetic because she is a troubled mother coming to terms with the fact she ruined her child's life.

both characters are loved by their children by virtue of them being their parents. the story is going to convey that no matter how bad they are as people. yes, forgiving abusers in fiction is overdone and to some degree unrealistic, however we do not yet know if that is where the story will go. all we know is that there will be a reconciliation. but even if mafumum specifically gets forgiven, it would not be unjustified. i feel like the first impression we get of mafumum from Kanade POV left a strong impact on a lot of people that they can't let go of. the whole point of the current arc is to let that go. the game builds her up as this malicious antagonistic force so that it can deconstruct that when we get to see her from an unbiased POV. she's not a villain like many people make her out to be, she's a human who made a mistake. a very bad and very big mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. she is a loving mother who fucked up really badly because she was too obsessed over perfection to actually see her daughter for who she is.

if the writers try and make us forgive harumichi though fuck them he fucking sucks. like i feel like toya will because he's like that yknow but i don't think the audience should feel sympathetic towards him.