#I know the point is to hit these people where it hurts and where it hurts is 'lmao women don't want you'

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

I hate this but I LOVE it

Because all of these years have built up to this, the culmination of the “Adam style” problem between Leo and Adam.

First season, Leo is shocked by Adam’s way of doing things but is so happy to have him back, he pretty much lets him do whatever. Things are so tentative that Leo just goes along with things, especially since he’s still processing that his best friend is even alive as well as his own perceived failures as a cop.

In the second season he is exasperated and frustrated by Adam’s refusal to involve him in his father drama, but out of fear he still largely lets it all go and defers to Adam until the showdown in the forest, where Adam arguably hits his lowest point in terms of the Adam style—and it horrifies Leo. Adam looks horrified himself by what he’s almost done, by what he’s forced Leo to do. All the same, considering it’s Roland-related, we know he’ll forgive Adam.

In the third season, Leo strays into trying the Adam style himself a bit in the investigation, but is largely able to justify his actions to himself and Esther in the name of saving Adam, and even involves Pia; it’s still to do with Roland, so Leo simultaneously feels a lot of guilt and no guilt about doing things Adam’s way, but maybe he also feels here like he doesn’t have the right to criticize Adam’s choices.

In the fourth season, he’s back in denial about Adam doing things on his own even as he knows Adam’s doing it, even as he knows Adam is keeping things from him, because everything that happened to Adam has made him feel guilty and tired—but he’s also getting weary of being left out, and the sense that Adam doesn’t trust him and maybe doesn’t reciprocate his care is wearing Leo down.

So in the fifth season, it’s mixed—we start with a terrible break between them at the lake, but after the little old lady’s car crash, Leo tries to adopt Adam’s style impulsively in a fit of righteous anger, with mixed results. However, by the end, there’s been a little peace made, because he’s realized that even if Adam does things his way, he does care about Leo and wants to protect him, so there’s an understanding.

Finally, in EdN, during a case that eventually involves his own team, we see that Leo has accepted Adam’s style, albeit within limits; he won’t let Adam turn off the camera during interrogation, but tacitly allows Adam to follow the suspect afterwards, and warns him of danger but doesn’t try to stop him doing things.

So here at the end of this season, we have a full circle moment, because Leo thought his friend was dead at the beginning and here Adam clearly is terrified that Leo could be dead he’s not allowed to be, I say so and as everyone’s been commenting, it’s Adam’s reckoning with his whole approach to things. Also, the irony has to be hitting him that it’s really only after Leo finally comes to terms with Adam’s way of doing things that it ends up hurting him in a potentially life threatening way. I bet between the events of now and next season, Adam is going over that case obsessively from start to finish (and Pia too, probably) trying to figure out what he could have done differently, if doing things Leo-style would have changed this outcome.

Because as people are noting, he’s never dealt with the possibility that Leo could be dead—in danger, sure, in FdG, and that’s where we see Adam get the closest to regretting his own methods, because of how they’ve influenced Leo’s. But all the same, even when Leo’s made it clear that Adam’s style of doing things has hurt him emotionally, it’s never been like this. It’s never been something that they can’t come back from. Leo has been Adam’s constant, a safe harbor, and now he has to consider whether his actions, his stubbornness about doing things “his way” and keeping people at an arm’s length, have effectively cost him the person he loves the most.

I think any “Adam style” analysis links up really effectively with the brilliant “he loves me, he loves me not” analysis by @justanotherprofessionalfangirl be sure to check it out!!!

Tatort Saarbrücken: DAS ENDE DER NACHT (2025) Adam und seine Verstärkung

[03jyh23]

✋🏻⌇touch part two┆choi san

│part of goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

│listen here

│part one

non-idol!san x fem!reader

│synopsis: you and san had always been the best of friends, but a single kiss changed everything.

│genre: friends to lovers, smut with some plot, a tiny bit of angst

│trigger warnings: explicit sexual content (consensual and unprotected sex, thick san, oral sex (both receiving), mentions of cum, neck kissing, and biting), mentions of infidelity (not between san and the reader), adult themes, strong language

│words: 5.1 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! yeah, i'm well aware that it's been like 6 months since i posted the first part but i count on your forgiveness ✋🏻😔 nonetheless hope you guys will enjoy it🙂‍↔️

love, mon ♡

It was late Saturday night. San had just returned from his gym session, preparing some protein shakes when the doorbell rang catching him off guard. He paused the music playing loudly on the speakers and went to open the door.

He unlocked the door only to have you wrap yourself around him in a second. "Hi—" he wanted to greet you, but your lips were already on his, and like a fool, he gave in. You stumbled backward into his apartment, not breaking the kiss as San kicked the door shut behind you. His hands found your waist, steadying you as you both moved through the apartment. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering traces of the gym filled your senses. You pressed yourself closer to him, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands roamed your back. The intensity of your need for him was overwhelming, drowning out any thoughts of what had led you here tonight. San pulled back slightly, his brown eyes searching yours with concern.

"Hey—" he tried to speak again, his voice gentle, but you silenced his words with another passionate kiss, your lips urgently seeking his as you pressed closer, desperately fighting for him to match your intensity and reciprocate the kiss. San's back hit the wall as you pushed him against it, desperate to keep him close to you.

He grasped your hips and pushed you back gently so he could finally speak. "Y/N, wait," he said firmly, his breath slightly ragged. "What's going on? Talk to me." He held you at arm's length, searching your face for answers. You tried to avoid his gaze as your trembling fingers worked to untie the drawstring of his grey sweatpants, your movements betraying your desperation. Before you could pull them down past his hips, San's strong hand caught your wrist. In one swift, fluid motion that left you breathless, he reversed your positions, pressing your back against the cold wall, the sudden chill sending shivers down your spine.

The abrupt change in position made you gasp audibly, your heart thundering against your ribcage as San skillfully pinned both your hands above your head, his grip unyielding yet careful not to hurt you. The warmth of his body contrasted sharply with the cool wall behind you, making you acutely aware of every point where your bodies touched.

"I said wait," he growled softly, his voice low and commanding, his face mere inches from yours. His warm breath ghosted across your lips as he spoke, "I need to know if you're okay?"

"San please no talking, just fuck me," you pleaded breathlessly, your voice carrying notes of both desperation and vulnerability.

San's expression softened slightly at your plea, but his grip remained firm. "Not like this," he murmured, "You're hurting, and I won't take advantage of that." His thumb traced small circles on your wrist as he held your gaze, silently asking you to trust him enough to open up.

Your breath hitched at his words, and you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Then let me take advantage of you instead." Your hands strained against his grip as you pressed your body closer to his.

San's breath caught, his grip on your wrists tightening momentarily as he processed your words. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he fought to maintain his control. "Y/N," he warned, his voice rough with barely contained desire.

"Please, San," you murmured against his skin, your lips trailing down his neck. "I need this. I need you." Your words were punctuated by soft kisses along his jawline, each one a silent plea.

San remained still for a moment, his internal struggle evident in the way his body trembled against yours. Finally, with a resigned sigh that held both concern and desire, he released your wrists, his hands sliding down to cup your face. "We need to talk about this later," he said before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You melted into it, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as San's strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat between your bodies was intoxicating, spreading through your limbs like liquid fire. His broad shoulders beneath your fingertips made you feel delightfully small and protected, while the firm muscles of his back flexed under your touch. The overwhelming awareness of his physical strength, the way he could easily overpower you yet handled you with such careful restraint, sent waves of warmth coursing through your body, making your cheeks flush a deep crimson. Your lips traced a path down his jawline, each kiss more desperate than the last. San tilted his head back, giving you better access as your mouth explored the sensitive skin of his neck. His hands found their way to your breasts, cupping them through the fabric of your dress as a soft groan escaped his lips. His touch was both gentle and possessive, his fingers kneading softly as you nipped at the junction where his neck met his shoulder. The sensation of your teeth grazing his skin drew a deep, throaty moan from him, his fingers tightening their grip on your breasts. Without warning, he lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his lips crashed against yours in a hungry kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he carried you down the hallway toward his bedroom, his muscular arms holding you securely against his chest. The feeling of his lips moving against yours, combined with the gentle sway of his steps, made your head spin. As you reached his bedroom door, San pressed you against it, his body pinning you in place as one hand fumbled with the handle.

"You're so beautiful," San breathed against your lips, his voice husky. "But are you sure about this?"

You nodded frantically, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Please, San. I need you. I need to forget everything else."

"Y/N," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. "I don't want to be just a distraction."

"You're not," you gasped as his lips found a sensitive spot.

San pulled back slightly, his intense gaze meeting yours. "Promise me you won't regret this in the morning."

Instead of answering, you captured his lips in another desperate kiss, pouring all your unspoken feelings into it. San finally managed to open the door, carrying you into his darkened bedroom. He gently laid you down on his bed. His hands traced the curves of your body with reverent care, his touch setting your skin ablaze. The weight of his body pressing against yours made you forget everything else, just as you'd wanted.

Your hips jolted upward as his fingers traced along your inner thigh, a soft gasp escaping your parted lips. San watched your reactions intently as your mouth fell open in a silent plea. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders as his fingers went dangerously high, drawing a breathy moan from your lips. His fingers ghosted over your underwear, the light touch making you arch into him with a desperate whimper. San's other hand traced up your side, pushing your dress higher as his lips found yours in another searing kiss. His fingers traced up and down your clothed core with a teasing pressure that made your breath catch. Each slow stroke sent shivers through your body as he deliberately avoided direct contact with your most sensitive spot. You could feel the heat building as his fingers moved with agonizing precision, rubbing circles near but never quite touching your clit. The fabric between his fingers and your skin only heightened the sensation as he continued his torturous exploration. A soft whimper escaped your lips as his fingers pressed just a little harder, the friction of your underwear creating delicious pressure that had your hips lifting to meet his touch.

With trembling fingers, you grasped the hem of your dress and slowly pulled it upward past your hips, the fabric bunching around your waist. "I need more," you gasped breathlessly, San's warm hands joined yours, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he helped guide the dress higher. Together, you worked the fabric up over your head. The dress fell forgotten to the floor beside the bed, leaving you exposed in just your panties, your skin flushed.

"God, you're perfect," San breathed, his eyes slowly trailing over every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers traced delicate patterns across your collarbone and down your shoulders, making you shiver. The gentleness of his touch contrasted beautifully with the intensity in his eyes.

"Please," you whimpered desperately, arching into his touch. "I need you so badly." San's breath hitched audibly as your trembling hands found the hem of his shirt, your fingers brushing against the warm skin beneath.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against your neck.

"I want to feel you," you gasped, tugging at his shirt. "All of you. No more teasing."

He pulled back just enough to strip off his shirt in one fluid motion. "Like this?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours as he pressed his bare chest against yours.

"More," you pleaded desperately, your fingers trailing slowly down the defined ridges of his abs until they reached the waistband of his sweatpants. Your touch was both tentative and demanding as you traced along the elastic. "Please, San. I need more."

San caught your wrist, stopping you. "Not so fast," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of scorching kisses, "Let me take care of you first," he whispered against your heated skin, his hands sliding down your sides with deliberate slowness. His fingers hooked under the delicate fabric of your panties, slowly dragging them down your thighs. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver with anticipation. San's fingertips traced teasing circles over your inner thighs, gradually working their way higher. When he finally reached your center, his touch was feather-light, barely ghosting over your sensitive flesh. A soft whimper escaped your lips as his fingers began tracing slow, deliberate circles near your clit, never quite making direct contact. The teasing motion had your hips lifting desperately, seeking more pressure. San maintained his torturously slow pace, his fingers moving in languid strokes up and down your folds. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more teasing, his fingers finally brushed directly over your clit, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. The contact was brief before he returned to those maddening up-and-down motions. Your breath caught as you felt one finger slowly press inside you. He withdrew just as slowly, only to repeat the motion with the same deliberate patience that had you trembling beneath him.

"Please," you gasped, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, "I need more."

At your plea, San's mouth replaced his fingers, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh before his tongue traced a long, slow stroke up your folds. His lips pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses against you, each one sending shivers through your body. His tongue moved with deliberate gentleness, flat and soft as it explored you with broad, languid strokes. You moaned as his tongue flicked teasingly near your clit, never staying in one place too long. He alternated between those gentle, flat strokes and more focused attention, his tongue becoming firmer as he traced patterns against you. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he moved lower, his tongue pressing carefully inside you before returning to those maddeningly soft caresses. The wet heat of his mouth had you trembling, his lips creating delicious suction as his tongue continued its relentless exploration. He took his time, drawing soft moans from your lips as he varied between licks and gentle sucking, always mindful of your sensitivity. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as his mouth worked against you with increasing intensity.

"San," you whimpered, your back arching as he found a particularly sensitive spot. His response was a low hum against your flesh that sent vibrations through your core. Your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably around his head, your fingers tightening in his hair as the tension built. Every stroke of his tongue sent electric shocks through your body, making your muscles spasm and twitch beyond your control. Your back arched sharply off the bed, your body moving of its own accord as waves of pleasure coursed through you. A loud, desperate moan escaped your lips as your legs clamped down around his head, your whole body tensing as you reached your peak. Your grip on his hair turned harsh, yanking at the strands as your hips bucked against his mouth. The intensity of your orgasm had you writhing beneath him, gasping his name between broken moans. San groaned against you, the vibrations prolonging your pleasure as your body shuddered through the aftershocks. His hands held your trembling thighs firmly, keeping you steady as you slowly came down from your high. When he finally pulled away, his curved into a smirk lips were glistening. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his eyes locked with yours.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured as he crawled back up your body. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as his hands roamed possessively over your heated skin. You could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, his hips instinctively rocking against you, seeking friction as his kisses grew more desperate. Your hands moved to his waistband, tugging insistently at his sweatpants. San lifted his hips, helping you push them down along with his boxers. Your breath caught at the sight of him, hard and straining against his stomach.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you pressed your hands against San's chest, pushing him back. He went willingly, letting you guide him until he was lying flat against the mattress. You straddled his hips, your hands splayed across his chest as you leaned down to capture his lips in a heated kiss. San's hands immediately found your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as you rolled your hips against him. Without hesitation, you spat on your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips. You stroked him slowly at first, your thumb circling the sensitive tip as pre-cum beaded at the slit. San's breath came in harsh pants as you lowered your head, your tongue darting out to taste him. His hands tangled in your hair as you took him into your mouth, starting shallow as you adjusted to his size.

"Fuck, Y/N," San moaned, his voice deep and gravelly with need. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, occasional groans and whimpers falling from his parted lips. Working in tandem with your hand, you gradually took him deeper, your tongue pressing flat against the underside of his shaft. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked eagerly, drawing a deep groan from San's throat. His grip tightened in your hair as you bobbed your head, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach.

"Fuck," San gasped as you swirled your tongue around his tip before taking him deeper again. "Your mouth feels so good." His hips twitched, fighting the urge to thrust up into your mouth. You hummed around him, the vibrations making his thighs tremble. As you tried to take him deeper, you felt your throat constrict slightly, causing you to pull back with a soft gag. San's concerned eyes met yours, but you simply caught your breath before taking him back into your mouth, more prepared this time. The sound of your slight choking seemed to affect him deeply, his cock twitching against your tongue. After a while, you could feel San's muscles tensing beneath you, his thighs trembling as you increase your pace. Your jaw began to ache from the repetitive motion, but the sounds San was making above you spurred you on.

"Mmm, fuck," San moaned breathlessly, his voice deep. "Your mouth is so perfect... so good for me." His words dissolved into a series of low groans and gasps, occasionally punctuated by your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You alternated between long strokes with your hand and eager sucks with your mouth, your tongue never staying still as it traced patterns along his length. His grip on your hair tightened almost painfully as his hips gave a sudden, sharp twitch. A strangled groan escaped his throat, his entire body going rigid as his cock pulsed against your tongue.

"Y/N, fuck," he breathed out heavily, his voice trembling with barely contained desire as he involuntarily bucked his hips upward, pushing himself deeper into the wet warmth of your mouth. "Please- you need to stop," he gasped desperately, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. "If you keep going like this, I'm not gonna last another second."

But you didn't want to stop.

You wrapped your lips around him once more, sucking him harder and deeper than before, your tongue tracing intricate patterns along his sensitive flesh. Your movements became more purposeful and intense as you hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight suction that had him writhing beneath you. His breathing grew increasingly ragged and uneven, his muscles tensing and relaxing rhythmically as waves of pleasure coursed through him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck" San's desperate moans echoed through the room, each one deeper and more primal than the last. You could feel him trembling beneath you, his thighs quivering with the effort to maintain control. When you finally released him, you did so with an excruciatingly slow, deliberately teasing pop that sent visible shivers through his entire body.

"You're fucking insane for this," San breathed, his chest still heaving as he pulled you up into a kiss. His hands gripped your waist possessively, fingers digging into your skin as he held you close. You rocked your hips against him, feeling his hardness pressed against you. The friction made you both gasp, your bodies moving together with increasing urgency. Your lips found his neck, trailing heated kisses along his jaw as his hands roamed over your nipples. San's hands moved with deliberate purpose, his fingers expertly teasing and rolling your sensitive peaks as his mouth found yours again. The kiss was deep and passionate, his tongue sliding against yours as you continued to grind against him. Your hands traced down his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath your fingertips.

"Need you," you breathed against his lips, reaching between your bodies to guide him to your entrance. "Please, San."

His hands tightened on your hips, helping to position you properly. "You sure?".

You nodded desperately, sinking down onto him slowly. Both of you moaned at the sensation, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to his size. San's hands moved soothingly up and down your sides, his lips pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone. His cock stretched you more than you were used to, the stretch causing a slight burning sensation as your body adjusted to accommodate his impressive girth. The mixture of pleasure and discomfort had you gasping softly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping him tighter as you slowly took him deeper. San pressed gentle kisses along your shoulder, his lips trailing a soothing path across your skin as you adjusted to him.

"Can I move?" he asked as your face relaxed a bit, feeling your delicate movements against him.

You nodded against his neck, rolling your hips experimentally. The movement drew soft moans from both of you, "Yes," you breathed, "please move."

San's hands gripped your waist more firmly as he began to guide your movements, helping you establish a steady rhythm. His hips rose to meet yours with each downward motion, the angle allowing him to hit spots deep inside you that had your toes curling with pleasure. His mouth found your breast, tongue swirling around your nipple as you rode him with increasing intensity.

"Fuck," you gasped, your head falling back as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Your nails raked down his chest, leaving faint red lines in their wake.

San's lips returned to yours, swallowing your moans as one of his hands slipped between your bodies. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles that had you trembling above him.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice deep and gravelly. Your movements became more erratic as the pressure built, your thighs shaking with the effort. San's free hand tangled in your hair, pulling you down for another passionate kiss as his hips thrust up to meet yours. Your rhythm faltered as San slipped out, a frustrated whine leaving your lips. Your hand quickly moved between your bodies, wrapping around his length to guide him back to your entrance. San groaned at your touch, his hips jerking forward as you positioned him properly.

San gripped your hips and rolled you both over, pressing you into the mattress as he settled between your thighs. He slid back into you with a deep thrust that had you gasping, your back arching off the bed. Your hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as San set a relentless pace.

"Fuck, you're so perfect," San growled, his hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. "Touch yourself for me. Want to feel you come around me."

"I can't hold back anymore," you moaned, your voice trembling. "San, please..."

San's mouth attacked your neck, alternating between gentle licks and sharp bites that sent electricity coursing through your body. Your breathing became increasingly erratic as he worked his way down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. Your entire body trembled uncontrollably beneath him, every muscle tensing and releasing in waves of pleasure. Your walls clenched rhythmically around his length, drawing deep groans from his throat as you felt him twitching and pulsing inside you. Overwhelmed by the intense sensations, you moaned loudly as his name fell from your lips in a breathless cry. The overwhelming pleasure made your vision blur at the edges, your body arching off the bed as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

"Come for me," San commanded, his voice deep and rough. "Let me feel you."

"San... San... I'm- Fuck" Your words dissolved into a loud moan as your orgasm crashed over you.

"That's it," he groaned, "You're so fucking perfect." Your body shuddered with aftershocks as San continued to move inside you, his fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise as his own release approached, his breathing harsh and uneven.

"S-San, fuck, oh god, it's too much, fuckfuckfuck!" you cried out breathlessly, your fingers digging desperately into his flesh, making him hiss sharply at the pleasurable pain of your nails marking his skin. With a final deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, a moan escaping his throat as he came undone.

San collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you both tried to catch your breath. His lips found yours in a lazy, satisfied kiss, your bodies still trembling with residual pleasure. After a moment, he carefully pulled out and rolled to the side, immediately drawing you against his sweaty chest. You could feel his cum dripping down your thigh as he pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Let me clean you up," he murmured softly, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. After cleaning you both up thoroughly, San pulled you back into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace. You snuggled into his chest, feeling content and sleepy as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin. His steady heartbeat under your ear gradually lulled you into a peaceful doze.

You were startled awake by the sound of movement from the kitchen, the morning sun streaming through the windows and hitting your eyes. As consciousness slowly returned, you caught sight of the clock on the wall and felt your blood run cold. Fuck. You were supposed to be at Juyeon's in an hour. Panic seized you as you scrambled out of bed, frantically gathering your scattered clothes from the floor with trembling hands. You were halfway through pulling on your dress when San appeared in the doorway, holding a tray laden with fresh pancakes.

His expression shifted from cheerful to confused as he took in your frantic state. "What's wrong?" he called out softly, concern evident in his voice.

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze as you searched for your shirt. "I shouldn't have stayed," you muttered, your voice tight with anxiety.

San set the tray down on the desk, moving to intercept you as you continued gathering your belongings. "Y/N, please," he pleaded, "Just stay. Can we talk about... about what this means? What are we doing here?" The vulnerability in his voice made your heart clench painfully. Instead of answering, you surged forward and pressed your lips against his in a desperate kiss, effectively silencing his questions. When you pulled away, his eyes were filled with defeat. "Fuck," he whispered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "You can't keep doing this to me. I'm not just some fuck-toy you can use and discard. I'm your fucking best friend—what are you running away from?"

You turned away, unable to bear the pain in his expression. Your hands shook as you grabbed your phone from the nightstand. His words made your chest tight with panic. Without looking back, you headed for the door, ignoring his quiet "Please don't run away this time."

"I can't do this," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. "I'm sorry, San. I just... I can't’’

"Wait," San called after you, "I love you. I've loved you for so long, and I can't keep pretending this doesn't mean anything."

The words hit you like a physical blow, making you stumble in your steps. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as his confession echoed in your ears. Everything you'd been running from, everything you'd been trying to avoid, crashed into you at once.

"Please," his voice was barely above a whisper now. "Don't leave. Not like this. Not again."

You stood there, frozen, as the weight of his words crashed over you. The confession hung heavy in the air between you. Your fingers trembled against the doorknob as memories of every shared moment, every lingering touch, and every meaningful glance flooded your mind. "Don't," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Please don't say that."

"Why not?" San's voice was quiet but firm. "Because it scares you? Because it makes this real?"

"Fuck you, San!" you snapped, whirling around to face him. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to make me the bad guy here!"

"Me? Making you the bad guy?" San's voice rose, anger finally breaking through his composure. "You're the one who keeps crawling into my bed and then running away like I'm your dirty little secret!"

"Because this is fucking messy and you know it!" Your hands were shaking as you gestured wildly between you. "We're best friends, for fuck's sake!"

"And that's exactly why this could be something amazing if you'd just stop being such a goddamn coward!"

The word 'coward' hit you like a slap.

"I'm with Juyeon," you said weakly, the excuse sounding hollow even to your own ears.

"Are you?" San challenged. "Or are you just hiding behind him because it's safer than admitting what's between us?"

Every instinct screamed at you to run, to escape before the walls you'd built came crashing down completely. "I..." The words caught in your throat as noticed the vulnerability in his eyes, the quiet hope mixed with resignation, made your chest ache.

"I can't keep doing this with you," San said, "Every time we're together, it feels right. You know it does."

"It's not that simple," you protested, wrapping your arms around yourself. "What if we try and it all falls apart? What if we lose everything we have?"

"What if we don't?" San took a step closer, his eyes intense. "What if we're missing out on something incredible because you're too scared to take the risk?"

"I'm not—" you started, but San cut you off.

"You are. You're terrified. And you know what? So am I. But I'd rather be scared with you than safe without you." The raw honesty in his voice made tears spring to your eyes. "Just tell me one thing," he said, closing the distance between you. "When you're with him, do you feel what you feel when you're with me? Does your heart race? Does your skin burn? Do you lose yourself completely like you do with me?"

Before you could think better of it, you crushed your lips against his, silencing his words with a bruising kiss. Then, just as quickly, you pulled away and practically ran for the door.

The cool morning air hit your face as you stumbled down the stairs of his apartment building, your heart hammering in your chest. San's words echoed in your mind, mixing with the ghost of his touch on your skin. You fumbled with your phone, hands trembling as you ordered a ride to Juyeon's place, knowing you were already late but unable to process anything beyond the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

[sematarygirls]

Okay but he’d fuck you so hard when they lose the Super Bowl after you spends an hour gloating about the eagles handing their asses to them!

i saw this request and started giggling and kicking my feet omg. anon, i owe you my first born child. you are a GENIUS! (although, fair warning, i'm not great at writing smut. i hope this is okay <3) not proofread

cw: unprotected p in v, rough sex, mean rafe, slapping, degradation

Football tended to be a touchy subject between you and Rafe. Where you were a diehard Eagles fan, he wouldn't be caught dead rooting for them. After the Chiefs narrowly beat out the Eagles in the 2023 Super Bowl, Rafe wouldn't shut up for weeks about how "trash" the Eagles were. It drove you absolutely insane.

That's why, when the Eagles absolutely kicked ass this Super Bowl in a rematch against the Chiefs, beating them out at a whopping 40-22, you thought it was your well-deserved right to rub it in Rafe's face, much to his dismay.

One thing about Rafe is that gloating is only okay when he does it—much like a lot of other things (he's a very hypocritical guy), hence his growing anger when you wouldn't stop talking about how the Chiefs absolutely threw the game with all their fumbles, making jokes the whole time about how it seemed like they weren't even playing.

Another thing about Rafe? He tended to get violent when he was angry. With other people, this meant he'd kick their asses, but with you, it meant you were in for a long night of rough fucking to make him feel better and put you in your place for your "bratty attitude."

Though, if you tried to point out the hypocrisy with him finding your actions annoying when he had done the exact same two years prior, he would only get more annoyed and very, very defensive.

You'd learned at a very early stage in your relationship that some battles were not worth fighting with Rafe, and besides, you kind of liked it when he was all rough with you, manhandling and degrading you deliciously.

"Not so mouthy now, huh?" He taunted, pounding into you from behind. Each thrust pushed you forward a little bit, your face burying further into the pillows as you moaned. A sharp slap to your ass had you gasping, the pain sending a jolt of pleasure to your core that had you practically gushing around Rafe's thick length. You didn't know how long you'd been going at this with him, but he hadn't let you cum, nor had he let up the brutal pace.

"Look at you," he sneered. "Can't even think of anything to say back to me, huh? Thought you were gonna gloat all night about how the Eagles won." His words were cruel and biting, revealing the depth of his anger, which wasn't about the football game. It was more so about being challenged, his ego hurt after talking such a big game about how the Chiefs were going to dominate.

You couldn't form a coherent sentence. Your brain turned to mush as the only thing you could focus on were his rough hands on you and his length stretching your velvety walls. You could practically feel each ridge and vein of his cock as it slid back and forth, his tip nudging your cervix roughly with each pass.

"What happened to that smart mouth, huh?" He mocked. "Your dumb little brain's too desperate for cock, huh, bunny," he cooed, his tone patronizing as he continued to pound into you with rough strokes, making your back arch and eyes roll back.

He was so mean, but you loved it.

He was right. You couldn't respond to him anymore. You had lost your ability to form a single word, dumbed down to a mess of please sounds as he hit that sweet spot inside of you so perfectly. He took that as a victory, seeing it as proof that you knew your place. He loved it when you whimpered underneath him, completely at his mercy. "Look who's behaving now. You're lucky you're so pretty, honey," he continued, enjoying this little game of his. "Otherwise, I wouldn't put up with such a bratty mouth."

"Fuuuuuck," he groaned, giving your ass another sharp smack before his hands found your hips again, his grip bordering on painful. "And this fuckin' love this pussy. Fuckin' perfect, baby."

He was getting close. You could tell by the way his pace started to falter, and his words switched from degrading to praising. One hand slipped down to your clit, rubbing firm circles. Even when he was pissed, he still tried to make you cum first.

It didn't take much more effort on his part. Your thighs were already trembling, desperate for release from the moment he'd thrown you onto the bed and ripped your clothes off.

"You're gonna be a good girl now, huh? You're gonna stop being such a pain in the ass, aren't you?" He questioned, punctuating each question with a thrust. "No more running your mouth and riling me up, right?"

"Uh huh," you whined pathetically, needy and desperate to cum.

He knew he had you right where he wanted you, all pliant and begging. "Yeah, you gonna stop talking back, huh? You can be a good little bunny for me, can't you?" He cooed, his words sounding a little bit less harsh. He was enjoying having you like this, completely at his mercy.

All you could muster was a weak nod, your fingers gripping the sheets and mouth parted in ecstacy as you reached your peak, blinding pleasure overtaking your body as your walls clamped down around his cock.

"That's it, baby, just like that," he groaned, pumping a few more times before pushing deep inside you and releasing spurts of hot, sticky cum into your eager cunt.

[lanadelrafe]

Ok so why is no one talking about mob boss! Rafe LIKE HELLO. I think we’re gonna need more🫶🏼

as much as they fight, mob wife!reader can’t sleep until she knows rafe is safe.

— tw: mentions of a gun, attempted sexual assault, murder, blood.

— author’s note: i’m so glad people actually like this au! i know it’s not all sunshine and rainbows but i’m under the impression that being a mob wife isn’t that great. but they actually kinda like each other in this one.

there was a break in once when rafe was out doing god knows what. mw!reader was home alone with no protective detail. had there not been multiple men who rushed around, breaking things, she would’ve put those training sessions to work and defended herself. instead, she called rafe and locked herself in their shared closet. rafe hurried home, gun loaded and ready to be used. she could hear the shots even from her hiding spot. once it got quiet, she began panicking because she had no clue whether it meant rafe was alive or not. she heard the sound of the door knob being turned and she held her breath. when the door didn’t open, whoever was behind it began to jiggle the knob it abruptly.

she knew right then and there that it wasn’t rafe.

the only thing she had to defend herself were her heels. the memory of the incident at the club flashed in her mind. she grabbed a single heel and held it up, ready for the attack. when the masked stranger finally broke down the door, she lunged at him. he struggled for a moment, bleeding from his scalp, before he managed to pin her arms to her sides and flip her onto her stomach. she laid flat against the floor, thrashing and trying to break her wrists free from his hold.

the moment she felt his grubby hands push up the oversized t-shirt she was wearing was when she really started to freak out. she started screaming and threw her head back against his nose. she heard a crunch and a pained groan. he released her and she took the opportunity to crawl out from underneath him. she didn’t make it far when he grabbed her by her ankles and dragged her body towards him. he flipped her onto her back and she scratched at his face, beginning to cry. “get off of me!” she shrieked. she pushed off his mask and gasped when she saw the bone sticking out of his crooked, bloody nose.

he grinned down at her. “don’t worry sweetheart. it’ll be something you’re used to.” he was pressed against her core while her legs were on either side of his waist. he reached down to yank her panties off, laughing deeply.

before anything else happened, they both heard a whistle. she stopped her cries, craning her neck to see where the noise came from. rafe stood at the door, leaning against the frame while cradling his bloody arm against his chest. he pointed his gun in their direction and pulled the trigger. the bullet hit straight between the stranger’s eyes, blood splattering onto mw!reader’s face. she let out a choked sob and shoved his lifeless body off of her.

she stood up and ran into rafe’s arms. he groaned at the impact, having been shot in his shoulder. but nonetheless, he pushed through the pain to wrap his uninjured arm around the back of her neck.

“i was so scared rafe,” she whispered later to him while they laid in bed. the bullet in his shoulder was long gone and he was bandaged up, curtesy of the private doctor he had hired for situations like this. “thought he was going to-”

he cut her off, “i’ll never let anyone hurt you again.” he traced his fingers up and down her back while she clung to his body.

“yeah,” she replied softly. and for the first time in a long time, she believed him.

after that night, rafe installed a high level security system, had armed guards posted outside the mansion’s gate and every entrance to their home. despite the new safety measures, mw!reader would still stay up into the late hours, paranoid. she didn’t close her eyes until she was tucked into rafe’s side, arms wrapped her protectively.

[seriouslycromulent]

So I'm just going to say it ...

I know there's a lot of folks who aren't feeling the new Night Court series, and it's likely not going to get renewed for another season. But I am proudly in the minority of folks who are enjoying the show and I appreciate what it's trying to do and the laughs it provides.

And this week's episode is a great example of that. Setting aside my pro-anyone-associated-with-Broadway-is-awesome bias, this week's episode was fantastic!

Sidenote: Yay! Andrew Rannells!

This episode was grounded in what felt like an honest commentary of what is going on in the world. And I especially adored it because my personal backstory is that the episode was probably born from an actual conversation someone had about or with John Larroquette in real life.

There was both silliness (the whole bit about the EDM festival in Flushing) and heart (the conversation at the end where Dan expresses how it hurt that the people he cared about where just humoring him because of his age). I love it when the show does that!

The B storyline (the lie detector test/crush on Wyatt) was just as funny as the A storyline, and it helped reveal just a little bit more about the characters as well, which is always appreciated. Character development has always been a must when it comes to any show truly resonating with me, and it's nice to see they haven't forgotten that.

I also appreciated the balance of this episode. Sure, there was a commentary about generational differences, but Julianne got to represent the cooler members of the older generations. And Andrew Rannells' character Tad represented how a bit douche-y and annoying some members of younger generations can be, especially toward older gens. The point being that ageism can go both ways. But in the end, everyone got to be funny and showcase how each person in the cast is talented in their own way.

I understand that this might be the last season of the new version, but I am unapologetically enjoying it and wish the network would give it space to find its rhythm like the original series got a chance to do. As much as I enjoyed the OG Night Court, I won't pretend that it didn't need a couple of years to find the right cocktail of talent and its own singular voice.

Surely, I'm not the only one who remembers that there was an entirely different court clerk before Charles Robinson joined in the 2nd season, 2 public defendants before Markie Post joined in the 3rd season, and 2 bailiffs before Marsha Warfield joined in the 4th season. And even though there were funny and heartfelt episodes in the first 3 seasons, the show didn't really hit its stride until the 4th season when Marsha joined the cast.

But unfortunately, audiences have shorter attention spans now, and any series that doesn't deliver nonstop gut-busting laughs in the first 2 or 3 episodes is often automatically considered "unwatchable" by the audiences who rely on a popular influencer or YouTuber to tell them what to think.

Oh well, I am determined to be grateful for what we have been allowed to enjoy. Because the show has really delivered some great laughs at a time when I most certainly needed them.

Now to convince NBC to release each season on DVD or in a downloadable permanent streaming format for those of us who would like to watch the show any time we want in the future.

[dazais-guardian-angel]

kinda wild to me that one of the most compelling aspects of both Chuuya and Kunikida's characters to me, that I never really see talked about, is how they're heavily set on a doomed crash course towards complete and utter destruction, and how I am so, so worried for them both.....

[omarfor-orchestra]

.

[kariachi]

Midnight Rant #5 billion and 12 on Charmcaster and Kevin- That woman's fucking AF premiere.

Because we have Kevin, very obviously in a very bad place. He's being retraumatized, his girl's cut back hard on spending time with him with no explanation, our boy is going through it. And then he makes a friend, according to WoG over the course of a few months, in a grown woman. And it's great, it's fine, and then she starts macking on him. And then she plants a kiss on him despite him shutting her down. And while doing that she literally takes control of his damn mind, just fucking harpoons that poor boy's bodily autonomy, forces him to turn against his loved ones. All because she never actually gave any sort of shit about him and from the very start was using him to get to and hurt his girl. This relationship that he thought was forming for months was all a ruse, her using him and then abusing him. And this is

So painful for poor Gwen. Can you believe that Kevin didn't have faith that her pulling back with no explanation meant she was working hard to fix him, after the whole three-odd months they'd been together? And to have Charmcaster come back starting problems. Oh poor Gwen, everyone is so mean to her.

And it's not just in the fucking show, it's in the fandom as well, this idea that the shit Kevin goes through matters in how it affects Gwen and not in how it would have to affect him. Just, that had to be such a fucking painful if not straight up traumatizing event. Charm fucked with his goddamn mind. She made him think she cared about him only to hurt him.

Congrats, Charm, I'd say you were only a few steps below Servantis but he at least let the kids have a degree of autonomy and wasn't on screen macking on them. Slow clap, you're even keel.

Just, I sometimes remember that we have a whole episode surrounding Kevin, already openly in an awful headspace, being groomed and straight up mindcontrolled, and the big take-away is how much the situation hurt Gwen and how bad a boyfriend he is for not reading her damn mind. And it drives me up the fucking wall.

Especially when you remember that he spends that season in his underwear, I'm sorry but the parallels to the treatment of imperfect SA victims write their damn selves.

And when you also keep in mind that when Mike is pulling the 'charm them and thrall them' bit it's treated, by the show and fandom, as him being an irredeemable predator and his victims have every right to hate him forever and wish horrible things on him, but Charm gets to have the 'oh poor Charmcaster' treatment and Kevin's thinking she can go fuck herself is treated as a flaw in his character by the show and ignored by fandom.

Because in the end the disparity comes from the same place as the repeated physically abusive acts Gwen commits against Kevin, as Looma's threats being treated as humor, as Gwen's thinking they're romantic being treated as humor- plain old misogyny. Mind the misogyny isn't all of it, but the age old belief that this sort of shit committed by women against men isn't a concern, and in fact may even be treated as ridiculous, because women are too weak to hurt men plays a big role. Doesn't matter if it's a grown woman grooming a mentally ill teenager or a teenage girl shoving her boyfriend into freefall- she's just a girl so of course what she's doing isn't actually dangerous or harmful, because women aren't capable enough for such things. Which then plays into the age old sexist bullshit that men are simply too strong and rough to be hurt, and to be hurt by a girl especially- physically, mentally, however- is funny because it means they're weak.

And that's not even getting into the 'a guy is always eager' bullshittery.

Just, for the love of fucking christ...

[musical-chick-13]

Does anybody else, like. When people talk about "Oh those stupid guys who are too pathetic and awful and off-putting to get a girlfriend" and, because you are a queer woman who has had difficulty in trying to date other women, you assume that they are also talking about. You.

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

my various mental issues make liking people so hard because i already put people on a pedestal to begin with if i genuinely like them so i am automatically laying myself at their feet like a dog but then i wrestle with the ego death of seeing that they're just a human being who is capable of being wrong and stupid and annoying me and it kind of makes me sick to my stomach not because i expect people to be perfect but because i know if i had like 5 minutes to sit down and talk to this person i would feel more secure in knowing where they stand on any given thing. but you aren't granted that when you just like some random guy who will never know you because you can't take the feeling of someone who could actually know you. or whatever.

[rainbowbeanstyles]

.

[tricksterlatte]

The Online Fandom 7 Deadly Sins

sloth: complaining about how no one writes the tropes or pairings you like and bashing what's already out there, while refusing to create anything you desire yourself

greed: zine and other finance-related scandals with zero remorse for those negatively affected

gluttony: spending rent money on merch, experiencing buyer's remorse, then repeating the same process next month

wrath: anon hate over literally everything under the sun, even harassing official writers and threatening them if they don't make your ship canon

pride: devaluing other's characterizations and ships to praise yours as better, whether through a canon perspective or a moral perspective, when neither matter in the long run when it comes to your own enjoyment

envy: trash talking others' fandom creations or saying you won't bother creating anything because it'll never be as good as them

lust: fighting over who tops or bottoms because of your personal preferences when one, both, or neither could happen, especially when most of these characters never even kiss canonically nor have most people fighting done any of these things irl themselves

[hauntingblue]

The episodes at the baratie are good if you ignore the big fucking elephant in the room that is sanji. Which is you know not a thing that can be easily ignored

[gaystardykeco]

not ready to go back to work tomorrow but luckily im so not ready that my brain isn't letting it fully process and so im just kind of numb except for little moments when the panic breaks through again

[running-in-the-dark]

I'm starting to really feel like I might have to like. stop being online. in any form. but especially on social media.

I already don't read the news anymore because it made me too anxious. but social media is basically like the news except worse. at least with the news you know that you're mostly gonna get bad things. on tumblr/reddit/wherever it's a pleasant stream of fun/interesting/entertaining posts and then bam here's some really bad shit that's going to ruin the world as we know it and we're all fucked and there's nothing you can do about it! and right below it is the next cute cat picture or a cool drawing or a silly text post and you just keep scrolling

[tiredlinguist]

god, this makes sense. after my mom found out i started testosterone, she told me i had caused her more grief than she could imagine, and that she didn’t even want to think about or look at other people’s daughters. she told me she couldn’t focus on anything else, she’d stopped caring about her job, she wished she were dead. she was mourning me, and meanwhile i was becoming the person i had begged my parents for years to let me become.

she did this following the first phone call we’d had in months, aka the first time she’d heard my voice after it dropped. i can’t help but think that’s what triggered her to tell me all the things i mentioned above (and more, that i don’t want to bring up). my low voice was tangible proof that i was destroying my body, and therefore was destroying hers

the cis maternal urge to treat your trans son’s body like an extension of your own body, and to react to said trans son’s physical transition as if they might as well have just started hacking away at your own body with a rusty axe, really is something else.

my mom hasn’t seen my chest post-op at all because the idea of it is so awful to her that the one time we took my bandages off with her present, she ran across the hotel room to hide from it and started crying to my brother about it (yes, with actual tears). she drove an hour and a half with us at 5:30am to my post-op just to sit in the waiting room because she refused to come in and see me after the surgeon took the bandages off. my dad has been the only one helping me with recovery things like changing bandages and monitoring healing because she still won’t look at my chest.

and she says that’s because she loves me and cares about me. love is when you treat the body your child can finally live in comfortably like it’s your worst nightmare. apparently.