#thank you ml writers!!!!!

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

LADRIEN PANIC ATTACK PART 2?!?!!?!?!?!?! LADRIEN PANIC ATTACK PART 2!!!!?!?!?!?!

LADRIEN.

PANIC.

ATTACK.

PART 2?!?!!?!?!?!?!

[broadwaycutie16]

Hey, I hope you don't mind me asking, but what is this whole Karma of Lies thing about? I often have some of your posts showing up on my dashboard about how people are not listening to you clarifying things about your story, but I avoided looking into the whole situation myself because I don't want to expose myself to so much (Adrien) salt which I know is at the initial root of all this (or at least, thats how it came across to me)

Would you explain for me what this situation is about? I'm always intrigued by this whole thing whenever I see another post from you, because of how wild reading about it all out for context is, but now curiosity finally got the best of me x3

So basically, KoL starts as your basic salt plot. Marinette’s being bullied by Lila, her friends are extorting her and accusing her of being unfair to Lila, Adrien’s just like “everything’s fine, Marinette” and telling her to just take all the crap from everyone.

Then Hawkmoth’s identity gets out, and Lila decides to cut her losses and get the hell out of there, but not without getting something out of the deal. She gets Adrien to send her money to her, and because Adrien is so trusting, he puts in the info for his family’s emergency bank account right where she can see it, not even thinking that Lila would try to screw him over. Spoiler alert: She does. She drains Adrien’s whole account of fifty million, leaving him without a cent in this catastrophic time in his life, and skips town by telling her mom a sob story. She also tricks the class into giving up their most expensive possessions, and then sells them to other people after she leaves.

So now Lila’s committed a grand felony, and she’s clear to continue her reign of terror anywhere she wants, with her newfound wealth goving her limitless potential on destroying lives. And you know what Marinette does to stop her?

NOTHING.

Marinette refuses to lift a finger to get Lila arrested. The narrative would have you believe that it’s because she’s setting boundaries and taking care of her mental health for a change, but it’s easy to figure out the REAL reason. She gives all these excuses over why she’s unable to do anything about it, using lots of loopholes, completely ignoring the fact that she’s supposed to be a superhero and thus has a moral obligation to stop Lila, if nothing else just to save all the innocent people she’ll destroy in the future.

Meanwhile, Adrien becomes penniless, his father goes on the run, and his aunt refuses to personally take him in because she’s more concerned about the scandal than about her orphaned nephew, basically resigning him to live in Marinette’s old apartment with hardly anything to call his own while Marinette moves into his old room at the mansion after getting a job with Audrey Bourgeois, who has now taken control of Gabriel’s company. And all through this, Marinette and the narrative are basically saying, “you didn’t help me when I needed you to stick for me, so now I’m not gonna help you when you need it”, basically ignoring the fact that what’s happening to Adrien is a hundred times worse than what happened to her.

Even worse, Marinette trashes all her friends’ reputations on live TV, calling them out for mistreating her without stating the reason why they mistreated her, so the public doesn’t know the full story. And Adrien, desperate to get his life back, makes a stupid and arrogant mistake and tries to take down Mayura by himself, but is easily fooled by her to give her opportunity to steak his ring. The villains are defeated, but now everyone in Paris thinks Adrien gave Nathalie the ring on purpose, and accuse him of being a willing accomplice to his father, effectively crushing any little particles of hope he had left for his future.

But what truly makes this fic a dumpster fire of a story, is how the author directs the whole narrative to try and make you believe that everything that happened to Adrien was 100% justfied, that not supporting Marinette and letting some girl bully her and turn her friends against her, a problem that was temporary at worst and that basically was nothing more than some schoolgirl drama, means that he, a fourteen year old boy from an abusive household, deserves to be virtually homeless, bankrupt, disowned by his entire family, and falsely accused if terrorism, and doomed to living the rest of his life out on the streets, without even the slightest conception that maybe it was a little too much.

Oh, and the only punishment Lila gets is some vague warning from Marinette about her future, and apparently, that’s supposed to be enough to stop the girl who knowingly teamed up with a terrorist and was willing to doom the city just to get back at one person for one embarrassing incident in front of one person.

Basically, The Karma of Lies is the worst salt fic of all the salt fics, punishing Adrien for childish stupidity with permanent life damage beyond anything written in salts before, and trying to send the message that it’s okay for Marinette to let it all happen just to get back at him for not being a better friend.

Trust me, do not read it. It is a garbage fire. I regret reading it every day. It’s really messed with my head. Even now, I’d wholly welcome an infinite number of sequel fics punishing Marinette and her “friends” (read: evil minions) for what they did, because if the story says that Adrien deserves his fate for doing nothing, they deserve even worse. This fic is the epitome of everything wrong with the Miraculous Ladybug fandom.

[mysticraven20]

🔮☕😱 for the ask game

☕Coffee or tea while you write?

I am a 100% tea drinker! White, no sugars 😉

🔮What's your favorite plot twist you've ever written?

There are two I am really proud of.

* The Honey Trap (Chapter 21)

* A Masked Game (Killer reveal)

😱What's your greatest fear as a fanfic writer?

Probably the same as most…that nobody will read it! The first couple of days after posting a new fic/one shot/new chapter I wait with baited breathes to see if I get any comments!

[carpetbug]

hey guys. la llorona fic coming out sometime this week. not clickbait

[seeasweetsmile]

Thank you omg. Pro-astruc fans sucks his ass so much they don't seems to see the problems here or see how much the characters are differents from a scene to another (it hit me with S4 but more with S5). Especially french fans too on twitter; it's so frustrating to see they'll follow him and defend him (or the characters) blindly without questioning his words or how the story/the characters have many little problems because of the writers 😔

Apperently TA once admitted he sees all characters as tools, which explains A LOT on why his writing is so awful.

If he unironically writes characters like tools, of course the writing is gonna suck. Characters need good consistent writing to feel like believable 3 dimensional human beings, and not be treated as tools for what "works in the moment", and he pretty much admitted he doesn't have the skill to do it.

And it also explains why the Miraculous characters feel more like architypes of stereotypes than actual characters. Or why my opinion of them constantly changes with every scene, because they're technically different characters depending on what the writers need their "tools" to be in that moment.

Learn to write humans, not tools, or just go.

[mlsecretsanta]

The 2024 ML Secret Santa Sign-Ups Are Now OPEN!

Welcome back, friends!! It's time to get ready for this year’s ML Secret Santa! 

Sign-ups are officially open! 

Get matched with another artist, writer, or gif maker/editor, and create a special gift for them just as one of them will create a special gift for you! Spread some positivity, discover new creators, and get excited about our favorite bug and cat show! Before you sign up, be sure to read our Guidelines, FAQ, and our 2024 Calendar. 

Sign-ups will be closing on October 28th at 11:59PM Eastern Time!

CLICK HERE to sign up!

[heartsforjh]

Can I please get random clinginess with our man the captain of depression, Quintin himself, idc who gets clingy, either way I get butterflies 😋

Congrats on the 100 Kaykay, wishing you all the more because you deserve it, infinitely proud of you and your growth as a writer 🩷🩷

thank you so much ml 🫶 it means a LOT! i hope this can satisfy your need for clingy!quinn pookie

main masterlist | 100 follower celly masterlist

“Hey, come here!” your boyfriend orders.

You look up from the counter where you’re making a shopping list to see Quinn walking towards you. He wraps his arms around your waist, and buries his face in your neck.

“So, you’re gonna tell me to come to you, but then walk over to me?” you tease.

Quinn scoffs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You’re a little smartass. It’s okay, though. I still love you.”

Smiling, you return your focus back to the list. “Yeah, you better.”

He chuckles, watching you for a moment before losing interest in just standing there.

“What are we doing?” he asks, taking both of your hands in his.

You frown slightly at the interruption but laugh, pulling your hands back. “I am trying to make a shopping list.”

“Oh, so you can send me away to get everything? You trying to get rid of me?” he accuses, placing his hands on your hips considering you pulled yours away.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Well, I was going to have you pick it up on your way back from practice, but if it’s that difficult for you, we can just go together now.”

His eyes widen in genuine surprise. “What? You wanna leave the house?”

You turn to look at him, head cocked to the side. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“Hey, listen. I’m just excited,” he says, defensive but clearly amused.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously before turning back to your list. “You’re excited to go grocery shopping?”

“No,” he laughs. “I’m excited that you’re coming with me this time.”

Of course, Quinn has the time of his life in the store, but only after guilt-tripping you into holding his hand the entire time.

After putting the groceries away with Quinn, you’re ready to settle back down. But first, you slip into the bathroom—mostly to use it, partly to steal a moment to yourself. Quinn has been following you around all day. It’s not a huge surprise or super out of the ordinary, but it’s different enough to notice the change.

“Baby, I have to make a call for work soon,” Quinn announces from the other side of the door.

You have to suppress a sigh, trying your best to keep your tone sweet. “Oh? What for?”

“They’re gonna tell me if I can go back to practice or not,” he explains.

He sounds so happy to relay the news, and you find yourself smiling at his excitement. “That’s great, honey. I’m sure they’ll let you!”

“I hope so. I’m coming in now, okay?”

You freeze, caught off guard. You’d like a chance to decompress and don’t want to offend him, but at the end of the day he is your boyfriend that unfortunately needs attention and you don’t really care all that much if he comes in.

He knocks on the door impatiently. “Babe? Hello? I said I’m coming in, okay?”

Before you can even come up with an answer, the door swings open. You stare at each other for a beat before giggling. He’s been awfully clingy recently, but this? This is a whole new level.

He shifts awkwardly. “Hi. Are—are you okay?”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the irony of him asking you that. “I’m doing great. Are you okay? What’s going on here?”

“I’m gonna be with you,” he says vaguely, almost as if he’s trying to reassure you of something.

His word choice intrigues you. “What?”

“I’ll be here with you… while you go to the bathroom,” he clarifies, gesturing to you.

You laugh. “Thank you, I appreciate that, but I don’t really need moral support right now.”

“I do,” he counters without hesitation.

Your head tilts. “You do?”

“For my call,” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Once again, Quinn acts before you can even protest. He pulls out his phone, and without warning. As if that wasn’t insane enough, he casually grabs your hand. holding it while waiting for someone to pick up the phone.

“Quintin! ” you whisper-shout, eyes wide. “What are you doing? Take it off speaker!”

His brows knit together, seemingly having no idea what he’s doing wrong. “But you won’t be able to hear my call.”

You have to take a second to not explode on him. Quinn is very smart, but you swear when he gets around you his mind immediately goes empty.

You pull out the calmest voice you can muster to try guiding him. “I am using the bathroom. I don’t need to hear your call, babe.”

Quinn sighs dramatically but listens, switching it off of speaker. “Fine. I’ll just tell you what they say after.”

“Thank you,” you reply sweetly, smiling at his pout.

Later that day, the two of you are curled up on the couch watching a movie—or, well, you are. Quinn, on the other hand, is busy tracing the shape of your nails instead of paying attention to the screen.

“Quinny… do you mind?” you ask, sarcastically batting your eyelashes up at him.

He glances down at you, then immediately goes back to playing with your fingers. “No, not at all.”

You huff a soft laugh. “Baby… where is this coming from?”

You shift your body to face him better, gently reaching up to cup his cheeks.

He frowns, confused. “Where’s what coming from? I’m not doing anything.”

“Well, you’re following me everywhere, being super touchy, and acting… clingy,” you say hesitantly, not wanting to give him the wrong idea.

His eyes widen slightly and he lets go of your hand. “What? That’s pretty mean, babe.”

“No, no! Quinny, I’m not trying to be mean. I love all of this affection. It’s just… more than usual. Makes me wonder what’s going on in that head of yours,” you run a hand through his hair, your touch soft and comforting.

He hesitates for a moment before a small smile starts to form. “I dunno. Just… gonna miss you, I guess.”

Your stomach twists at his vulnerability. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Gonna miss you when I go back to work.”

And suddenly, it clicks. Quinn has been home for weeks, healing from his injury. His time being away from the ice is now coming to an end. The only problem is your hockey obsessed boyfriend is not as ecstatic as you’d expected.

“You’re not happy?” you ask, needing to understand.

He shrugs, resting his head against your chest. “I am happy to be going back. I’m just… not happy about leaving you.”

You smile softly, running your fingers through his hair now. “You’re not leaving me. We still live together.”

He shakes his head, his voice thick with emotion. “I won’t be home as much. I love being with you. It’s gonna sound really sappy, but it makes me feel like… me.”

Your heart aches at the confession. You knew the time he spends away probably isn’t ideal, but you never realized how much it affected him.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his temple. “But you’re gonna do so good, Quinn. And then, when you come home, we’ll spend all of our time together, okay?”

He exhales softly against your skin, then buries his face in your neck. If his teammates saw him like this, they’d never let him live it down. But truthfully? You adore this side of him—so much so you agreed to spending all of your free time with him even after experiencing his clinginess today.

“Okay,” he mumbles. Then, he perks up a little, excitement written all over his face. “Let’s plan our next date for when I get home. That way, we won’t waste any time.”

You giggle at his eagerness. “Alright. Let’s think.”

tags: @beenucks @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @azure-dawn81 @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton @r0wdymaize86 @ccomandercody @macklin-celebrini-71 @randomcuboidshape @when-im-with-you @quillycrow @rainyvalentines @alwaysclassyeagle

(there were a few people who i had problems tagging this time! if you’ve signed up for my tag list, but aren’t getting any notifications for my posts, you can try making sure your mentions are on! or, maybe you’ve had a recent username change that you can update me about! thank y’all!)

join the taglist here! :)

[reiding-writing]

Hi!!!! Congratulations! You’re amazing!

Could I get a couple different author’s picks for angst fics starring our favorite Dr.Spencer Reid? They do not have to end happily but they can!! Please recommend yourself as well! (Maybe your current top 3??)

Thank you, wonderful person!! -🐈‍⬛

thank you so much ml 🫶🫶

R E D ‘ S P I C K S — ANGST .ᐟ

the ogs will know i am an angst fiend in the deepest threads of my heart, and when i tell you i have plans to return to that era, i mean it 🙂‍↕️

please make sure you read all of the warnings before indulging in these fics!

red’s 2k book fayre !!

you’re losing me. | 2.0k | @parfaitblogs

in which he's an entirely different person after prison, and your relationship is crumbling.

passive aggressive. | 2.1k | @ddejavvu

spencer's stressed, and he takes it out on you. you're sure it would have hurt far worse if he'd shouted, but instead he broke you down bit by bit, his cold demeanor leaving you crying in your car.

the ninth step. | 1.1k | @pathologicalreid

spencer works to make amends after mexico, and he's starting with you.

you were like an angel to me. | 5k | @januaryembrs

spencer swore he wanted to hate her. she was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. but how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

better off as lovers. | 12k | @eideticmemory

three years after ending your relationship with spencer reid, you find yourself representing him in court on federal murder charges.

we’ll be alright. | 9.1k | @unseededtoast

in which you discover that the line between love and hate is quite fine. Your actions are done out of love, but they only make you hate yourself more and more.

transgression. | 8.2k | self rec

you're in love with spencer reid. He's in love with somebody else.

forgiven. | 3.7k | self rec

you lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. after weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.

absolutely all of the love in the world to these writers and their works, if you enjoyed reading these, make sure to check out their other fics as well !!

[apas-95]

Hi- what's your opinion on the death penalty, from an ML perspective? There seems to be varying opinions between major writers, but most socialist states have practiced it. China currently has a relatively high rate of applying the death penalty, which seems to have broad popular support, although I understand the CPC has a policy of steadily reducing its application (some Western outlets claim there are thousands of unrecorded death sentences being carried out, although the veracity of these claims seems dubious to me). Do you see the death penalty as appropriate or something that should be phased out/eliminated, and what is your perspective on China's use of it?

Thanks!

In an ideal case, where resources were unlimited and classes done away with, I believe the death penalty's negative aspects would outweigh its positive aspects. In higher stage communism, I cannot see a place for the death penalty.

In existing socialism, however, it is basically acceptable as an ultimate disincentive and control measure. In the most extreme cases, during times of war, when resources for rehabilitation were scarce and the risk of further harm high, even executions of political prisoners, such as the Romanovs, Nazi officers, etc, were carried out; when in a stable socialist state these people would be instead detained. The line for what justifies execution is basically dependent on the actual stability of the revolution.

In China, the vast majority of 'death sentences' given are, in fact, 'death with reprieve'. The terms of the sentence are generally a one-year period of probation, where, if the offender maintains good behaviour, their sentence is commuted to life in prison (and then later able to be reviewed etc). Only if they reoffend during that period are they actually subject to execution. These are the types of sentences given to those bourgeois who carry out massive acts of embezzlement and fraud, or those state officials guilty of bribery and corruption. The particularities of the sentence are generally never reported on in the western press, who instead make hooplah of the 'death sentence'.

In brief, it is appropriate, and I do think it should be phased out and eliminated. Everything depends on its context.

[daengtokki]

part five // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 11k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: angst, sex, murder, medication usage, hallucinations, sa mention

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

comments: I wasn't sure how many parts I would need to get to the end, but this isn’t it, ha—we’re not done yet! Thank you for sticking with me!

Please support and reblog if you enjoy! Reblogs help your favorite writers on Tumblr!

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST ]

—taglist: @kkamismom12 / @r0tt1n / @heluvschibi / @feckinbecky / @missystay / @seungluvr / @babrieeee / @curiouscocoabean / @feelikecinderella / @carpioassists / @soulsbbg

Where do you go from here?

You can’t tell yet, because Seungmin hasn’t spoken more than ten words to you in the last three days. The feeling deep down in your gut was right, but despite your heartache, your sleepless nights, and your lonely days…this still feels normal. He heard the words, panicked(?), put a new wall up, and now you’re left with this painful, awkward silence.

But it’s not fair. He started this.

He said it first, and you don’t think he would say those words lightly—it didn’t take all these weeks to figure that out. You knew the night he came looking for you and finally managed to tell you he didn’t want you to leave. It took a lot out of him. Taking you in and caring for you has taken a lot out of him, even though it does seem to be the other way around most of the time. That came naturally, though. Being responsible for the people around you is your normal; taking the blame when things go wrong, or don’t work out…that’s all yours. Damage control is your specialty, but you haven’t done a great job of it lately.

Seungmin looks at you from his spot in the living room. He’s sitting up, but hugging his pillow and resting his head on the arm of the couch. This has been his typical afternoon for the last few days after taking his medicine, and you’re worried he’s adjusting poorly…hallucinating, and just not telling you.

“Did you eat last night?”

He closes his eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no. So, nothing since yesterday morning.”

Maybe if you go over there and beg him to say something; get down on your knees and plead, you’ll get a word. You want to tell him about your nightmare last night. If you were thrashing around and talking in your sleep, he didn’t hear you—he didn’t wake you and comfort you. You woke on your own, gasping for breath and clenching the sheets, and Seungmin’s eyes were shut tight. Trying to get any sleep after that was useless, so you gathered your pillow, a blanket, and Daengmo (he was looking at you, at least) and left him there.

Daengmo is still here on the opposite end of the couch, like a strange mirrored image of his owner.

“I can try to make you something”

Nothing.

“Or I can order it. I haven’t exactly mastered Korean cooking yet.” But not for lack of trying. You’ve consumed nothing but news, dramas, and cooking shows lately to help with learning the language. And to make sure you don’t hear anything else about Seungmin’s last kill. So far it’s been quiet, but it’s only been three days.

“I’ll just go grab something.” You throw your sweatshirt on and head for the door, “you can eat it if you want…” tighten your shoelaces, grab your keys. A mumble comes from him as you reach for the doorknob, and you almost ignore it. “Did you say something?”

“I said I’ll come with you”

It takes him a few more moments to sit himself up, but once he gets that far, he seems to wake up. You wait patiently by the door as he changes, and he makes a point to duck into the bathroom and fix his hair. Another thing you did in complete silence; dyed his hair, and you noticed him staring at the trashcan where the he threw the negative test. Seungmin comes back out looking almost exactly like he did the day you met him; the black and white windbreaker, the calm, somewhat confident look in his eyes. You’re not sure where that came from. He even grabs the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table on his way to you.

“What are you in the mood for?” You tread lightly, not wanting to disrupt whatever jumped into him so suddenly. It was silly to think you got through his worst, but you hoped for just a moment that the closeness and the consistency would help…and the medicine. You still have a long way to go.

“I like your cooking”

You’re not sure where it came from, but you think you see a smile around his cigarette.

“Thank you for cooking for me. And everything else.”

Seungmin watched, or stared absently at you folding laundry this morning. It was then you wondered if it was on its way back—his itch. It has to return eventually, but you hoped you both had more time. The cocky look on his face makes you think otherwise.

“I like doing it.” For him you don’t mind it, and it’s because he doesn’t expect it of you, or demand it.

“Right here”

He opens the door, and you can feel the heat. The smell should help perk him up if his appetite has returned.

“What are we getting?”

“Galbijjim”

It’s small and crowded inside, so when Seungmin finds you an empty table to sit at, you hesitate. “You don’t wanna take it home?” You’ve already gotten a few looks, and you’re not sure if it’s just directed toward you, or the two of you together. It doesn’t bother you much, but you remember how Seungmin felt on the crowded train. “It’s pretty busy in here.”

“No, I’m fine if you are”

But you do notice his eyes wandering around, taking in each person, letting them linger for far too long.

“How are you feeling, still sleepy?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t look at you.

You try to find exactly what he’s looking at, and you do. It’s obvious. Seungmin is staring at one of the girls waiting for an order. His eyes are pitch black, all pupil, when he finally shakes himself free to look at you.

“I said,” your voice shakes, so you shut up and try to calm the wild heartbeat in your throat. “How are you feeling…with the medicine?”

Still he doesn’t answer, but he’s looking right at you.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back home? We’d be more comfortable on the couch…we could watch a movie, maybe.”

“I’m good, the medicine is…” he drops his gaze to his hands, and you follow. Seungmin starts to fidget; pick and scratch at the table, stop himself and wring his hands together. “The medicine is fine.”

The medicine might be doing its job, but fine isn’t the word you would use, and Seungmin is not with you right now. He’s somewhere between his own head and the girl ten feet away…the one that is now staring at him. Now you’re hoping his feeling has returned, because the only alternative would be pure attraction, which she clearly shares. He wouldn’t do that to you after everything, though. Your jealousy is just winning over logic.

“Good. You seem less tired.”

Ignoring it is difficult, but you have to. What else are you supposed to do; confront him, ask if this is his next target, and just wonder why? What is it about her that appeals to him, and in what way…murder? Sex and murder? Just sex? You need to know…that will happen again. You remember him telling you that last time. But you remember everything else, too. There is no denying or hiding your jealousy.

“You’re right, maybe we should take our food home.”

/ / /

The two of you start walking, food in hand, but it takes about ten seconds to realize why he changed his mind about staying—he’s following her. Why is he doing this while you’re with him?

“Seungmin, where are we going?”

“I need you to do me a favor.” His tone is flat, uninterested. He’s not asking you a favor, he’s giving you an order…calmly. “Take the food and go home, and then leave for a while.”

“What? Leave and go where?”

“Anywhere…coffee shop, the university library to study…shopping.”

He’s getting rid of you to seduce her. Kill her, yeah, but first he’ll have sex with her in the bed you’ve been sharing. You have to do what he says, though, because you knew what Seungmin was when you decided to return to him, and you knew he’d return to this, eventually. Getting upset about it now might make him upset, and his medicine, combined with the itch, and then you on top of it all being jealous and difficult...it won’t help. You decide you should be grateful for the last few weeks you’ve had him all to yourself.

“Okay, I’ll go”

“Let me know when you leave the apartment”

“I will, I’ll text you”

“If for some reason it falls through, I’ll pick you up wherever you are”

You doubt it’ll fall through, not with the way she was looking at him. He’ll have another kill under his belt by the time the sun goes down.

Seungmin continues straight, and you take a left on the next block, but you watch him for as long as you can before he disappears. The university library is a good idea, but you’d only sit there and wonder what Seungmin was up to the whole time. You’d go through his possible actions, step by step, thinking of the two of them initiating. Touching, kissing, undressing. Her hands on Seungmin’s hips, pulling at his sweatpants to get to what you now believe is yours. Will it just be a blowjob, like the last time? Will he lay her on the bed and eat her out? That feels too intimate for him, but that’s because he’s so intimate with you when he does it. There is no reason for him to be careful and gentle and attentive to anyone else, especially if they die at the end.

Maybe shopping will keep your mind more occupied.

You unlock the door and look around the deserted apartment. The two of you have barely left before today and since the trip to Uljin, so it makes everything feel even more strange. The bedroom is cold, and you’re glad. Hopefully it stays that way for his guest, and it moves things along quickly.

You look around for yourself in the room…your clothes—you left the shirt you wore last night on the floor, but it’s technically his and isn’t out of place. Your bedside table is mostly bare, save for the end of your phone charger and a single necklace you haven’t worn in weeks. You open the drawer and drop it inside. There isn’t much of you in here, and it took until now for you to notice.

Next, you check his drawer. Everything is neat and exactly where it should be.

Seungmin feels out of practice. He’s gone this long without plenty of times, but he at least had most of the voices pushing him forward during his lull. Everything was silent this time; the spaces in his head were filled with your voice, and filled with thoughts about you if he let it wander long enough. They were filled with sex—good sex, the kind of sex he doesn’t get from his victims, and the butterflies you give him when you look at him as he wakes up every morning. But he can’t think about that right now. He needs to focus. He can’t think about the way you make love to him when he needs it. The way you actually love him.

“Are you following me?” The girl turns and asks, but there’s obvious flirtation in her voice. One hand, the one not holding her bag of food, lands on her hip.

His focus came a few steps late. “Following you? No. What makes you think that?” Seungmin licks his lips and puts on his best charming smirk. “Just headed in the same direction.”

“Where’s the food you got? And the girl…that definitely wasn’t your sister.”

“It doesn’t matter. Are you in a hurry?”

“Well, I do have a bagful of food, but if you let me drop it off to my coworkers…I can slow down for you.”

“I’d like that”

/ / /

He was a little worried you would put up a fight about returning home without him just to leave again, but the apartment is empty when he brings his guest inside.

“This is your apartment? You’re here all alone?” She takes off her coat, and Seungmin grabs it, taking a moment to get closer. He catches her eye, and then the scent of something sickeningly sweet…too much perfume. “No girlfriend?”

“Just us”

“Good, let’s get you out of jacket so I can get a good look at you”

Seungmin obliges and pulls at the zipper, and he’s thankful when he finally feels the blood moving to his dick. As soon as it’s over his head, her hands are on him, sliding across his stomach as his tshirt is pulled up, and he has to shut his eyes as she pulls him closer.

“Where should we take this?”

The touch is overwhelming. It’s like static as her hands slide up his bare chest. It’s off of him, and they close around his neck as she leans in—tall enough to get to him without Seungmin accommodating, and she puts her mouth on his. More static, and the taste of something sour.

“No,” he pushes her back, “don’t kiss me.”

“Damn…sorry”

“Everything else is fine”

“Are you sure?”

He wipes his lips, “yes,” and runs a hand down his dick, because he can feel himself losing momentum. “Take your clothes off.”

“You’re not gonna take em off for me?” She takes a step closer and touches his chest, his stomach, and her hand slides under his waistband. “You wanted this. Don’t you wanna touch me? Oh…”

“Yeah,” Seungmin grabs her arm, but she keeps her hand closed around him.

“Nervous?”

No, he doesn’t get nervous. Whatever he’s feeling is something else. Something he hasn’t dealt with before, at least not to this extent. He’s distracted, just like the day he met you and tried to make up for it with a quick kill—when you sent him that text thanking him for his kindness. “Take your clothes off.” He closes his eyes, moans it as her hand moves up and down his length, over and over, and he feels his dick growing again.

“I will,” she pulls Seungmin closer. “I want this. You gonna give it to me?”

Eyes still closed, he lets himself enjoy the slow, firm movements of her hand. “Yeah, I’m gonna…”

“Where’s the bedroom?”

“The bedroom?”

“Take me to your bed and fuck me. Isn’t that why I’m here?”

His legs shake as she frees him, and then she’s gone…looking for the bedroom herself, maybe. The first door she tries isn’t it—she flicks the bathroom light off and on a few times before slamming the door shut. Seungmin follows as she heads for the right one.

“Wow, this is cozy”

It is, Seungmin thinks, because you made it that way. The lamp on his side of the bed is clicked on, and the one on his dresser is as well. The lights around the bookcase are casting a warm glow on everything; the books and records, the music box, the flowers. The pillows are fluffed up and arranged in a way Seungmin never did it—a little chaotic, but still neat. And the bedspread is pulled down and out of the way. It wasn’t like that before the two of you left this morning.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says, and he’s relieved when she finally starts stripping off her clothes. But then she heads toward the far side of the bed. “Over here.”

“Other side? Picky…” her pants drop to the floor and she sits, not so patiently waiting for him to come closer.

Time to stop fucking around and get things moving. He doesn’t want to leave you waiting somewhere longer than he has to—Seungmin didn’t want to do it at all, but there was no other choice. “I am picky. Take those off.” He heads to his drawer, and from the corner of his eye he sees her move up the bed and toss her panties to the floor. Right next to your tshirt. He bends to pick it and sets in neatly on the table as he slides it open.

“Where…what the hell?” He mumbles.

“What’s wrong? Please don’t tell me you’re out of condoms.”

There’s one left, and he quickly closes the drawer after grabbing it and the lube. “No, I’m not.”

“Good, get over here and let me look at you.” By you, she means his dick, still trapped in his sweatpants.

He slides them down his hips, just enough to pull himself out and stroke to get back to one hundred percent. No matter where he lets his mind wander, he can’t keep himself hard, and it’s beginning to piss him off. If he can’t use his anger right here, right now, then what’s the point? Maybe he can’t do this right anymore, either. Instead of letting his mind wander, he tries to shut it down to nothing; darkness, black…no, the white noise of an old television set. The fuzzy hum fills his ears as he goes for her, crawls on the bed, and pulls her thighs apart.

“That’s much better,” she says in her best seductive voice.

Shut up, he screams in his head. The relief of pushing his dick in makes him lose control immediately. He slides in without a single tease, and without much effort. Her cries of surprise and pleasure wipe out the static and he hears nothing but her. He hates it. He slams in harder, getting himself close as quickly as he can manage, but he can’t seem to get anything in return.

His hand works his way up, resting on her stomach as he fucks her, then to her chest where he can feel the shake of her screams and moans. Finally, it lands on her neck and it wraps around it with no protest from her. He squeezes, but not enough to scare her, because he hasn’t decided yet how long he wants to work to reach his orgasm…but there’s nothing. He forces a moan when their eyes connect, but it’s all he can force himself to do.

Tighter. Still, she reaches out only to touch him; his stomach, his hips as they roll back and forth. His arms. One hand grips his wrist, and the other holds onto the forearm flexing as his fingers squeeze even more.

“Okay…let go,” she croaks and smacks his arm.

Seungmin doesn’t let go, but his mind goes to tv static again.

“Let go!” She pushes her nails in, and it stings, but still he continues…and then something hits hard against his hip, and it burns and almost knocks him backward. Her kick somehow lands perfectly.

Fuck, his mind turns back on. He sees her scrambling to her feet and off the bed as he drops to all fours. “Fuck…”

Just as he turns and gets to his feet, she reaches for the doorknob and the door swings open. Again, he forgot to lock it. If he didn’t lock the front door…he’s close behind, but not close enough. Her hand is on the knob, it turns freely—and then you’re there.

You stand blank-faced at the threshold, and the girl stops in her tracks when she realizes she’s trapped. But Seungmin feels his heart drop at the thought of you being in the line of fire.

“What the fuck, both of you?”

She takes a few steps back. Seungmin can’t figure out why, because you’re smaller, and probably not much of a challenge to get through. It’s then that he sees the glint of his missing knife, gripped tightly in your fist.

“Okay,” Seungmin says softly. Now what? This is not where he expected the day to go, and his mind is racing as he tries to picture where it’s going to end. The girl is frozen, terrified at which way to turn; Seungmin’s hands, or your knife; his knife, his hilt digging into your soft, innocent fingers. He steps to the right and finds your eyes, but you don’t look at him. And he can’t tell you to drop it, because if you do, she’ll run, and she might make it out if this building with a story.

“Please,” the girl begs.

Seungmin wonders if she’s thinking of taking her chances and pushing through.

“No.” Your voice is so soft, but he hears it.

“Nae salang…” do you even know what that means? Seungmin isn’t sure, but he saw your notebook full of Hangul practice; his name written over and over, pages full of 김승민, 안녕하세요, 사랑해요, your name, his name and your name together like a lovesick teenager. He didn’t know how to feel when he saw it because it seemed so private, but you weren’t hiding it from him. Thinking back to it now gives him that familiar feeling in his stomach.

You look at him for just a moment before your eyes move back to the girl, and you take a step over the threshold. She moves back, too, and Seungmin takes a cautious step to the side.

“Please don’t.” Now Seungmin begs—he begs you not to do what he sees happening in your eyes. “Close the door, and give me the knife.”

You shake your head, and Seungmin sees the tears brimming in your eyes.

“Please don’t unlock that part of you…it’s too much. It only feels good for a moment.”

“Minnie…”

“Yes, love?” He watches your knuckles stretch and your forearm flex. His heart pounds, but his stomach swirls and his cock fills with blood again no matter how hard he tries to calm himself. The sight of you standing there wielding his knife—it’s the same feeling he gets when it’s in his hands.

“It's too late for that”

His body shakes. His mind goes back and forth between the static and his clear view of you, the tears running freely down your cheeks. Have you really been here before? Is that why you came back to him?

Seungmin sees you move, and he hears the familiar sound of knife against flesh. The blade disappears into the girls chest, right between her ribs, and she falls to her knees as she gasps for air. You finally let go and take a step back to watch the aftermath of what you’ve done.

The gasps slow down and quiet as she lets herself collapse to the floor. Blood trickles onto the hardwood, but not much…you left the blade in place, and that’s slowing things down. Seungmin watches you watching the body, and he’s getting dizzy from his pulsing erection.

“Seungmin?”

He almost falls to his knees when you look at him, but he forces himself to move—one step, another step around the almost lifeless body. He slams the door shut and grabs your throat, guides your blank stare upward. Your eyes soften when they meet his.

“What have you done?” He whispers and kisses the corner of your lips. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry”

“No.” He kisses you fully, and brings you close enough to feel every aching inch. The grip on your neck tightens, he can’t help it. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Yes”

“You heard everything?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t take hearing you in the bedroom…so I went out in the hallway…”

Seungmin is patient as you begin to sob quietly, and he frees you to hide against his chest. He has to be grateful that you didn’t leave, and that you were exactly where he needed you right outside the front door. “Why did you have my knife?” With his knife in hand, no less. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been much of a challenge. Right? Maybe he’s underestimating you. “Were you planning something else?”

You take a deep, shakey breath and he pulls you away from him. “I’m not sure."

“You wanted to kill her…even if she hadn’t almost escaped, you still would have done it.”

“I would have tried ”

“You succeeded,” he looks at the now lifeless body at their feet, and his hand finds your neck again. “And you have a lot of explaining to do,” Seungmin kisses again, working his tongue to the back of your throat as his free hand starts undressing you, “but not right now.”

You both nearly trip on your way to the bedroom, first coming through the door, and then again on the discarded jeans of your victim. The yelp down Seungmin’s throat doesn’t deter him from his kissing, but you pull away and look at what you stepped on.

“We’ll take care of it afterward…I will.” Seungmin is not worried about the disposal right now, even as blood slowly drips onto the living room floor, and text after text pops up on the dead girls phone. “I need you, now.”

You’re flat on your back, eyes on the ceiling, and Seungmin’s hands work quickly. His mouth works slowly, and his tongue moves just how he knows you like it. He takes his time with you, slowing down even more when your hands reach for him, and your fingers comb through his hair and pull. Seungmin takes your hand and gives you what you were stupidly afraid the dead girl would get—his hunger, and his overwhelming need for you. Seungmin doesn’t let go until you come, and you wait for more, because he always wants more, but this time he works his way up until he can kiss you on the lips.

“So,” he mumbles against your cheek, leaving little kisses as he goes. It’s not something you’re used to getting from him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Minnie”

“You can tell me”

“Tell you…”

“Anything you think I should know.” One more kiss and he’s up, heading for the door. “You can’t just be okay after this.”

Maybe he’s right. No, he is right, but you still don’t know how to start, or where to start. What you do know is that this is now partially your responsibility—the clean up, and getting rid of the evidence. Seungmin said he would do it, but he probably wouldn’t have made this much of a mess if you had listened to him. You snatch up her clothes, the panties and the jeans, and her phone slips from the back pocket and onto the floor. The phone…how does Seungmin get rid of the phones, and does he not worry about them getting tracked? He hasn’t been caught, so he must be doing something about it.

There’s a long string of notifications on the screen, mostly text messages, and all from the same person.

“Seungmin?”

He’s busy laying out a piece of thick plastic drop cloth, but he smiles sweetly when he looks up at you. “Yeah?”

“What do you do about the phones?”

He reaches for it, and as soon as his eyes scan over the messages, his face changes for just a moment. He scrolls through, and to his surprise, there’s no passcode. A few moments later… “I need another favor, a very big favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Pack a bag, bring whatever you might need…but not much. Start one for me, too.”

At first, you just nod. His voice is so calm, and nothing about his body language suggests you should be questioning his request. “Yeah, okay…”

Seungmin didn’t say to hurry, but you do anyway. And take what you might need? It depends on where you’re headed…his medicine, clothes, obviously. Oh, the clothes. You take the girls clothes to Seungmin, because the gears are starting to turn in your brain, finally. After that massive surge of adrenaline, and then coming down from your orgasm, your mind is in a strange, untrustworthy place…but you’re getting there. Every piece of damning evidence needs to be collected and destroyed, now, and there may not be that much time. What was it he read on the phone notifications?

You start packing faster, and start another bag for him. Eventually, you stop and scan the room, knowing you’re forgetting something.

“Oh, we need you…” you head for the bookshelf and scoop up the music box, opening it and swiping a few loose petals before you wrap it and shove it in your own bag. His drawer—it can’t stay, but is he bringing it along? You don’t bother him with the question, you just find a small box to throw everything in and add it to the growing pile.

Does Seungmin have anything else in the room? As far as you know, the drawer is where everything goes, but the minute you stop and think, you start to hear your heart pounding in your chest and throat and ears. It’s so loud. But you feel calm, despite it, because Seungmin is calm. You grab more clothes from the closet, and scan every corner while you’re in there. If Seungmin wasn’t so organized, you wouldn’t even bother, but the neat stack of shoe boxes catches your attention. There really isn’t time for this, but a quick peak won’t hurt.

The one on the very top has something scribbled out, but underneath in black marker there’s more writing: 00-03. Inside are photographs, not organized in anyway aside from the years written on the box. The first one you pick out and look at is baby Seungmin in the arms of his mother, and on the back is Hangul you can’t read except for his name. You wonder if his father took the photo. The next one is him again, a little older, sitting in a man’s lap—his father, you can only assume. You leave them out and open the next box: 06-08. This one is much lighter. Inside is, again, Seungmin and mom. You add that to the others. The next one is a family portrait; Seungmin, his mother, and his stepfather. Nobody looks very happy. You decide to try one more, and you finally find one of just him…a close-up of his young face, seven years old according to the year written on the back. Same chubby cheeks, same big brown eyes, same sideways smirk. You keep that one, too, and put everything else back in its place.

The shuffle and drag of something against the living room floor makes you move faster. Seungmin is probably working as quickly as he can, so you need to be ready when he is. The last stop is the bathroom, and you watch him work for a moment as you walk by; he’s zipping up a suitcase identical to the one from before, and he glances at you before you look away.

“Are we ready?” He looks at the bag you packed for him, and only adds a few more things.

“I think so. Where are we going?”

“We’ll figure that out after we get rid of the body”

Seungmin is quiet and focused as he drives, and right now, you’re not headed in the direction you expected; east, toward Uljin. You’ve been driving north for half an hour, and you still haven’t spoken up and asked him exactly what happened, or if he figured out a destination.

He looks at you, though, because eventually, he feels you watching.

“Hey,” you say as softly as possible. You’re turned toward him, knees hugged to your chest, “Minnie?”

“You should put your seatbelt on…you’re making me nervous.” His hand reaches out, and his fingers slide from your ankle all the way to your toes.

“That’s what making you nervous?”

There’s nothing nervous about him, actually. Seungmin bit down on his lip once since you’ve been watching, sighed twice, and mumbled to himself twice, at least that you caught. Very normal for him. If he is, he’s keeping it together for your sake, and you hate that.

“Yeah, a little.” He smiles at you and licks his lips. “We’re almost there.”

“And then you’ll tell me what’s going on?”

“Yes. And you’ll tell me…whatever I need to know, I hope.”

The seatbelt clicks, “I will, I promise.”

“Did you bring my music box?” It just hit him. He grabbed a few things, and he even checked his drawer. You assumed he saw the empty spot on the bookshelf, but he may have forgotten. Just as you suspected, he looks calm, but he isn’t. His mind is moving much faster than he’s letting on.

“Yeah, it’s in my bag”

“Thank you”

“We’re not going back, are we?”

Seungmin doesn’t answer right away, because he comes to an intersection and turns, and then turns again into an almost empty parking lot. “I’m not sure.”

“The Jasmine…we’re staying here tonight?” It's nothing special, and it's not very big, but the vacancy sign is lit up in the office window. Seungmin got here without directions, so he must be familiar with it.

He looks at the building, sees the sign already glowing in the early twilight, and then his face falls. “I forgot your flowers.”

“My flowers? The forget-me-nots? That’s alright.”

“No, I got you something else, and I was waiting until I felt better to give it to you”

“What was it, what kind of flowers?”

“Moonflowers. I’ll find you more somewhere. Let’s get inside.”

/ / /

Thirty-five miles away from home isn’t very far, but the small town you ended up in feels safe enough for the night. The man that checked you in hardly looked up from his book as Seungmin counted out enough money for two nights, just in case.

He withdrew a significant amount of cash before leaving Seoul, and brought even more that he had hidden even further back in his closet. Seeing such a large amount in one place was surreal, and sitting in the passenger seat putting the two separate amounts together for him was even more bizarre. You did your best counting it, writing it down, adding it up…

“Twenty-six million won…how much is that in American money?”

“I’m not sure,” he laughs and watches as you carefully sort the last few paper-clipped bundles. “Around twenty thousand maybe.” Seungmin smiles and laughs so easily, and it doesn’t seem the time for it.

“Definitely more than I’ve ever had at one time...maybe ever“

“Well now you have it, it’s all yours”

The room is small, about the size of Seungmin’s bedroom, but it’s clean and warm, and you don’t really care where you are as long as it’s with him.

“You packed a lot”

“Did I? It didn’t seem like much at the time…sorry”

“It’s alright. Maybe we just have a lot of important things.”

You unzip the biggest bag first and dig around, “that must be it,” pull out Daengmo, and toss him to Seungmin. He was almost left behind, but luckily he caught your eye as you were headed out the door.

“I thought we forgot you”

The way he holds him and looks at him reminds you of the little boy in the photograph—happy for the moment, comforted by his friend, and maybe a few good memories…but he can never quite hide the sadness in his eyes.

“Minnie?”

His mouth squishes to the side, and he looks even more like his seven year old self. Even the haircut matches. “Yeah?” The words get stuck in your throat when he looks from Daengmo to you. “I know, we have a lot to talk about—“

“No. I mean, yeah I know. I just wanted to tell you again, that I love you.”

“Still?” He smirks. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” If he says it back, you’ll feel better, lighter. You just want to hear it again.

Seungmin doesn’t speak right away. He falls back on the bed, and you can hear him sigh. “I don’t want you to get hurt if something happens. It’s not fair. None of this is your fault.”

What is he talking about? You were the one holding the knife when it pierced the girls heart, not him, and that’s exactly how you wanted things to play out. He picked her, yeah, and he fully intended to do what you did, but something happened, and you got your chance.

He sits up again. “I’ve never had to protect anyone but myself.”

“I know I’m safe with you, Minnie”

You watch as he hears the words, takes them in, understands them. Maybe it’s like saying I love you to him again…maybe better.

He joins you on the floor and crawls closer, “I hope so.”

“I am”

He sets his lips against your shoulder, “I love you, too.” It’s just a mumble—barely enough to make out, but you hear it.

Seungmin waits a few moments, feels your lips on the top of his head. He knows it’s time to explain the situation to you, and then you have to explain yourself to him.

“You should eat before we talk”

The forgotten galbijjim is replaced, and Seungmin smiles sweetly as he watches you take your first spoonful of rice. “This looks better than the place we bought from earlier." It gives you butterflies, his still hesitant smile. "Are we sharing? Did you just get one bowl?"

"I'm not hungry"

You stare at him and wait for more of an explanation, but he just sits silently. Not having an appetite makes sense, and you can't really blame him. You shouldn't have much of one either, but you do, and you plan on feeding it.

"You haven't eaten in a while, Minnie. I'd feel better if you had some."

He just shakes his head and changes the subject. “The phone. The notifications. They read like a friend checking in on her, and then worrying when there was no reply, which is bad enough, because I usually manage to get rid of the phone before we get anywhere near the apartment. Not every time, though, and if I do and they notice it’s missing, they freak out and leave to look for it.”

He pauses and seems to gather more of his thoughts, and maybe give you a chance to say something.

“So you forgot to take her phone?”

Seungmin nods and takes a drink of his coffee. “I fucked up the whole thing before I even got started. My head was not in the right place to do this, but I thought it was what I needed. I was stupid and selfish."

The two of you stare at each other, and it feels like he’s trying to tell you more without opening his mouth—something he doesn’t want to say out loud, but his acknowledgment that it was a mistake from the start is a relief. He seems to be out of that fog that had him gripped so tight for days.

“She was sharing her location the whole time…to the same friend who was texting her. So the phone is gone and burned up with everything else, but the damage was done as soon as I let her in.”

“Seungmin, this is bad”

He sets his mug down, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…I may have ruined everything. The girl will be reported missing, and the friend will have some information about the guy who took her back to his apartment. I’m sure they’ll find some evidence I left behind, and if we’re lucky—”

“Minnie…”

“If we’re lucky, we’ll have a little more time together before my face is all over the news.”

“And if that doesn’t happen? If they don’t find evidence, or a body…or find you, if they even manage to come to that conclusion? The location she was sharing won’t be the apartment, it will be the building…and it’s a big building.”

“I like how practical you are, even now…yes, there are sixty-two occupied apartments in the building.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Seungmin laughs and picks up his coffee again. “I own the building. I guess I never mentioned that.”

You’re surprised he still has any sense of humor, considering how worried he revealed himself to be. “No, you didn’t. That explains a few things, and might complicate them, too.”

“I know. They’ll look for me because I have everyone’s information, and I won’t be there, which might be suspicious.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Going out of town isn’t evidence for murder. I tried to clear out anything that would be suspicious—the drawer, the ten boxes of hair dye. You may have had other things I wasn’t aware of, though.”

“No, the drawer was the worst of it…that was everything”

The memory of finding your ear cuff in his drawer pops into your head. You probably threw it in the box with everything else without realizing. “You don’t keep trophies?”

“No, I don’t. If anything gets left behind,” he thinks back to the silver hoop earring dropped on the floor, “it’s because I messed up. I have no desire to remember them after they served their purpose—what?”

You’re grinning at him, and you don’t even realize it. Seungmin charms you, if you can call it charm, with little effort, and without even realizing it. “I like your brain. And learning more about you every day.

“You like my damaged brain?”

“I love your damaged brain”

“That’s a first”

“I'm sure another one of your victims was hoping for a second date before the first one ended abruptly"

"Like you?"

"Yeah, exactly like me"

Seungmin has to think. How many people does he have to think backward through; two dozen? More?"

“I have taken people out on real dates before…before taking them back. Sometimes it seemed like they were genuinely interested in me, but I never got the impression that those feelings stuck around.”

“Why not?”

“Mm, there was a girl I brought back to the apartment a few years ago. She was nice, even though I assumed the whole time we were both working toward one thing. But she seemed kind, and when we got to the apartment, she told me how badly she wanted to meet someone and develop something real, and that she was tired of being alone. Tired of dating apps and first dates, that's exactly what she said, and I don't know why I still remember that."

“So what happened?”

He returns to his silence, but you know there’s more to his story. The memory is returning to him slowly. “We got to the bedroom, and everything seemed to be going well, but then she saw Daengmo,” he turns and looks at him sitting on the bed, “and she laughed…asked me why I had that on my bed.” He sighs deeply, “she made me feel stupid.”

You remember the first time Seungmin took you to his room, and how out of place his little dog looked. The mood of almost everything in his apartment is grown-up and dark, except for a few things—Daengmo being one of them. But asking him about it was the furthest thing from your mind, especially the second time you ended up in his room.

“We didn’t get any further than that”

“You let her go?”

Seungmin shakes his head, “I’ve never let anyone go,” then smiles at you. “Did I seem weird? My apartment, and me…you left in such a hurry the first time. You must have thought something was off. Or thought I was off.”

Sort of, you think to yourself.

“Oh, you did call me weird. I remember now.”

Should you tell him what went through your mind on your first visit? “No, not you…your patience with me is what was weird.” Something tells you he can handle it, at least if it’s coming from you. “The expensive apartment was a little odd, only because I could tell you were young. But yeah, I did always assume something was off about you—the way you looked at me and touched me when we sat on the couch, I wondered if I was over-looking something. I wanted you—I wanted your attention, and your touch. That’s why I ran.”

“Because I was giving you attention?”

You nod.

“You seem to think so little of yourself…why?”

It’s hard to put into words, and it’s so much to dive into. Seungmin is going to want to know more—he’ll have questions, certainly more tonight than he had this morning. But you believe he’ll understand what you have to say more than anyone else you’ve ever spoken to, and that’s a comfort you’ve never imagined. “I was tolerated by everyone my entire life.”

“Tolerated?” He rolls the word around in his mouth and his head. His English is almost perfect, but some words are just not in his vocabulary.

“I was cared for, but nobody really cared about me.” You speak as simply as possible, but you’re sure he’ll understand. “I was fed, sent to school, had somewhere to sleep, but there was nothing else. No bedtime stories, and no help with my homework. No advice or comfort when I came home with a black eye from a playground fight.”

“Nobody loved you?"

“They may have, sometimes. It could be that I’m just forgetting…but when I think I remember something, it was because my sister was there with me.”

“She took it all?”

Spilling everything to him is easy. Every time you think you should stop for fear of scaring him off, you catch him looking at you with a warmth he probably doesn’t realize he has in him. “It wasn’t her fault. It was given to her. If they gave it to me, I would have taken it all, too.” And you remember exactly who he is, and how far away you are from scaring him.

“I’m worried I won’t always have enough in me”

"Enough?"

“Love. I’ll give you all I have, I promise.”

/ / /

Seungmin watches as you slowly dig through your bag. He’s grateful for how much you actually managed to pack so quickly and so well, because he already misses being home. You pull out one of his old t-shirts and hold it to your chest, and then find another small bag holding the contents of your important nighttime ritual.

“Shower? That will help you feel better.” He feels your kiss hit the top of his head, and a wave of pleasure travels all the way through him.

“Much better if you join me”

“I’ll grab my stuff…I’ll be in”

Now it’s his turn to dig around his bag, except he has no idea what you packed and where you put it. He pulls out his pill bottles and sets them somewhere he won’t forget them. Whether he’s adjusting to them or not is still a mystery, but if today is any indication…probably not. He’s been in a fog most of his time awake since restarting them. He's been seeing things far more frequently, and his dreams are still as intense as they've ever been.

The bathroom door is cracked and Seungmin can see the steam already starting to swirl out. You aren’t in the shower yet, though. You’re partially undressed, crouched down, back against the wall across from the sink.

“What’s wrong?” Seungmin’s drops to your level and his hands cup your face, but he doesn’t move you. He watches your eyes squeeze shut and then relax, over and over until he says your name. And they finally open. “What happened?”

“Just dizzy. I’m okay now, I think.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“I get vertigo when I’m anxious, and sick in the stomach from both. It’ll go away.”

He turns the hot water down, and you’re already attempting to stand before he can get to you again. “Please let me help you—hold onto me.”

“You gonna hold me in the shower, too?” You smile and squeeze your arms around him, but the dizzy feeling has mostly passed.

“Yes, if you need me to. I’m sorry you don’t feel well. I’m going to fix this, and I’ll get us back home."

somewhere in the middle of the forest, pine trees on every side, and up…he can hardly see the sky through the mist and crowded treetops. he doesn’t know where he is, this scene is new. if it wasn’t so unsettling, it’d be beautiful. but seungmin doesn’t get scared so easily…no, He’s not around this time to scare him. but someone is getting closer. footsteps crunch across the thick, cold forest floor. someTHING, maybe. the steps are off and far too light to be a person.

a black cloud bounces in the corner of his eye. and then again on the opposite side

crunch crunch

but it’s so loud. snowflakes start dancing in front of him. no, not snowflakes…what is this? the dead remnants of a distant fire.

scratch scratch

fingers…claws, digging into the bark

His eyes open, slowly and calmly. No pounding heart; no tears; no sweat rolling from his neck and forehead. It’s quiet for a moment and the only thing he hears is the tick of the old alarm clock. Seungmin wonders how you fell asleep with that sound in your ears.

scratch scratch

The door moves ever so slightly. The loose doorknob shakes. Two scratches, and then three. Over and over. He thinks he hears a whimper. Maybe he’s still asleep. Seungmin reaches back and squeezes your hip. He’s relieved to feel you shift and turn and wrap around him.

“I thought you were asleep,” you whisper and settle against his curled up body. “Bad dream?”

“Did you hear that?”

You stay quiet for a few seconds and listen. “No, what—“

scratch scratch

“That”

“I don’t hear anything”

Seungmin sits up, and your hands fall away from him. “You don’t hear it?” But he’s going for the door before you can answer him. “That scratching?”

Again, you listen and hold your breath, but nothing happens—no sounds, no scratching anywhere in the room. Seungmin is hearing something that isn’t there. You watch as he listens carefully, inches from the door, hand flat against it. The muscles in his neck and back tense as he goes for the lock, and then the knob, and he turns it so slowly.

There's nothing, but your heart still pounds like crazy because Seungmin is so sure something will be on the other side. He stops and releases it, turns to look at you, and he seems confused; tired, sad, and very confused.

“I think it’s gone, whatever it was”

Before you can respond, his hand grabs the knob and swings the door open. And nothing is there. Seungmin is standing alone in the empty doorway, and he steps out into the dark until you can’t see him.

“Minnie?” You really don’t want to get up and go after him, but you will. “Seungmin, please come back to bed.” Just as you throw the blankets off, you hear the creak of his footsteps in the hallway, and it’s hard to tell if they’re getting closer, or further away. He doesn’t reappear, though.

“Seungmin?” It’s so dark. It’s impossibly dark, even though it’s nearly dawn, and you don’t even feel his presence out here. Where could he have gone? He wouldn’t leave you by yourself with the door wide open and unlocked. “Please, Min—” the floor creaks again, as if someone is putting their weight down gently. Now you feel him there, and the outline of him slowly comes into view. “Hey, you’re scaring me…say something.”

He reaches out and grabs you, or someone does. It looks like his hand, but everything feels wrong. It squeezes your wrist and pulls you, and you’re face to face with something else—something that isn’t quite Seungmin. This isn’t who you just woke up next to. Two angry eyes stare you down, and lips pull back from its teeth before you manage to pull your arm free, but you lose your balance and fall backwards.

“I’m here, open your eyes...look at me…that’s better”

Everything is a blur, but you keep your eyes open and blink until he’s finally there. It’s really him…

“Hey, good morning”

It’s his brown eyes, big and full of worry, his pretty smile, and his messy morning hair. That horrible face won’t go away, though. It’s burned into your mind.

“Morning?”

Seungmin nods and comes down to kiss your forehead. “Yeah, we made it through the night. Bad dream?”

“Yeah. Strange one. Did you wake me up last night?”

He tucks you back under the blankets and curls up next to you, “no, I slept through the night for a change. I had a dream, but it wasn’t my usual one.”

“So you didn’t hear anything last night?" It's the second thing you remember after that face; Seungmin, if he were truly a monster. "Scratching?” You’re floating, suddenly…the room warms, or you do. Yeah, it’s you. A cold sweat starts as you force yourself up, and now your stomach spins. “I have to—”

“What? You have to what?” His hand touches your cheek. “You’re cold.”

Both feet touch the ground, but your legs won’t hold you up. He makes it to you quickly, and his arms wrap around you as you sit there doubled over in pain. All Seungmin can do is wait and listen to you quietly cry—there aren’t many people in the hotel, but it’s not empty. You can’t risk the attention.

"What can I do?"

"It's okay...it'll pass"

"I can get you to a hospital. Last night, and now your stomach."

“We can’t go to hospital, we don’t even know if they’re looking for you”

Seungmin knows you’re right, but he’s avoided checking any sort of news because he doesn’t want his world to truly come crashing down on him yet. “Can you look at me? At least let me get you back into bed.”

You sit up slowly, and he’s right there steadying you, hands on your shoulders. He doesn’t want to tell you how worried he really is. Seungmin thinks he’s done a great job so far of keeping himself and you calm, but he knows this isn’t going to go away so easily. “Where does it hurt?"

Everywhere, you think. You take his hand and spread it out right above your belly button. And then you slide it down below it. He pushes a little and the whimper catches in your throat.

“Let me know if it gets worse, or better.” His hand moves to your forehead, cold and covered in sweat. “I think it’s time we checked the news.”

/ / /

There’s not much you can do aside from observe until the pain eases up, and it doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere. It gives you time to dwell on the dream, and the dream within the dream. Were you inside of his? “Where are you checking?”

Seungmin finds and turns on his phone for the first time since you left yesterday. “A few local news sites, social media. Looking on Twitter would be easier if I had gotten a name.”

“Is there anyone in your building you trust enough to talk to and ask if anything strange happened?”

Something hits him—some clarity, the sudden realization that his mind has been moving so fast it’s made him overlook the most obvious solution. “The security cameras.”

“You have cameras up?”

“I’m required to have them at every entrance and exit, but I turn them off as needed. That’s the only thing I didn’t fuck up yesterday.” He’s back on his phone, typing, and then watching silently. “Did you bring your laptop?”

Now you can clearly see what he sees—the screen is split into four separate camera feeds, and the quality surprisingly good. Seungmin turned the cameras off when he escorted the girl into the building, but he forgot to turn them off again after that. At 50x speed, he watches the main entrance, the side and back exit, and the elevator starting around the time the two of you snuck out the back.

Twenty hours of footage...tenants coming and going, and you assume Seungmin recognizes the faces that are supposed to be in and out. His eyes don’t leave the screen, and you keep quiet and let him watch. Three hours of footage later, he pauses it to rest his eyes.

“Nothing strange yet?”

“No, not that I can tell”

“You should eat something”

He shakes his head. “Maybe last nights food got you sick.”

“I didn’t eat very much”

Seungmin starts the footage again. Another three hours of almost nothing. “This doesn’t make sense. Did her friend not report her missing?”

“Maybe the police didn't believe her. At least not six hours after.”

Another three hours. Nothing. “How is the pain?”

You flip onto your back and let his hand wander over your chest and stomach. “A little better.”

“Good”

Three more hours. Seungmin picks up the speed between midnight and sunrise, and then slows it down again—9 am, 10, 11…nothing out of the ordinary. He switches to the live feed, and still nothing.

“So the apartment is safe for now”

“For now. We’re not going back yet, unless you start feeling worse.”

“Are we staying here?”

scratch scratch

Despite the pain, you push yourself up and look at the door. Did you actually hear that? Seungmin doesn’t move, so he obviously didn’t. You definitely heard it, and it sounds just like it did in your dream.

“We can stay another night, or we can find a new place on the way to Uljin”

The live feed still has his attention when you turn and set your feet on the carpet, and this time, your legs hold you up. Pain shoots from your belly button to your chest, and then back down, but you try to breathe through it.

“Where are you going? Get back in bed”

“You didn’t hear that?” You reach the door and open it, and the hallway is empty…just like your dream. “Let’s stay somewhere else.”

Now you head east, and you drive much longer this time. Seungmin’s gaze falls on you every few minutes for the entire first hour, but he stays silent until you get to the new destination. Wherever you are, surrounded by mountains…it’s nice.

“Where are we now?”

“Hongcheon”

“Dal…”

Seungmin looks at you, and waits patiently as you attempt to read the Hangul on the motel sign.

“Oh, double k…g. Dalkkum?”

“Very good...Dalkkum.” He says it properly, and it sounds pretty coming from his mouth.

“Dal means moon, right?”

“I’m not surprised you remember that, yes. Dalkkum means moon dream.”

“That’s nice. We should stay here for a while, I like it.”

He turns the engine off and sighs, but it’s a good sigh; one of relief, and a little bit of satisfaction. The lack of activity at the apartment may have put his mind at ease, but you both know it's still too early to truly relax. “Yeah, we can stay more than one night if you want”

The pain in your stomach is mostly gone, so maybe you can convince Seungmin to go on a walk around town. It’s cold, but the fresh air might be good for both of you. “Can we get kimbap?”

“Yeah, whatever you want”

“Cheesy kimbap?”

“Yes, I will eat if we get cheese kimbap”

/ / /

The sun is warm, and Seungmin doesn’t mind the walk, but he eventually drags you and the food to a nearby bench. He checks the bag, and you can tell he’s taking in the smell. “Are you comfortable here, or should we head back to the motel?”

“We should eat it now, while it’s fresh”

“And can we talk?”

“Talk?”

He clears his throat, fidgets a little. Seungmin actually seems a little nervous now, but he unbags all of the food and separates it before continuing. “Yes…about what happened, and what you said.”

“Oh, right”

Seungmin jumps in before you can change the subject. “You said I already have. What exactly did you mean…that you were ready to do it, or that you’ve done it before?”

This is what you’ve been ruminating on for weeks—from the moment you came back in his bed, and tried to escape. When he let you go, and when you couldn’t stop thinking about him even though he should have been far behind you, and quickly getting further and further away. Seungmin kept catching you in your own thoughts, and in your dreams. You went looking for him, and it worked—he still wanted you just the same as you wanted him. He’s been wondering why, you assume...wondering why you want to be close to him, but he’s stopped pushing the question. That’s good, because you still don’t have an answer.

“It’s hard to talk about. I’ve never spoken about it to anyone, ever, and I never expected to. I had planned on taking this to my grave.”

“I understand. You’ve kind of answered my question, so if it's too difficult, you don’t have to."

“No, I do. This is something I need to say, and it’s something I need to give to you."

“It must be too heavy to carry around all by yourself”

You nod as Seungmin lifts a bite of food up to your mouth, and you can’t help but smile when he does. It seems like his way of putting you at ease. “Yeah, but also…” you let him feed you, and then he takes his own bite. It’s a relief to see him eating, finally, after three days. “It’s something you deserve to know.”

“Who did you kill?”

The question, asked so bluntly, throws you back in time. You stand in your living room, bare feet on the dirty floor, tv on and blaring in the corner. He’s sitting in front of you where he always does every single night, and you know in a few hours, he’ll do the same sick shit he does every Thursday night while your mother is at work.

“My dad”

“Your dad? You killed your father?” He sets his chopsticks down and stares at the food, and you wonder if this was too personal. Seungmin doesn’t know his victims, and you already know he was very close to his mother. His stepfather, no…but killing a parent is personal. Maybe you’re actually worse than he is. “When?” He’s looking at you again, but he’s looking at you the way he always looks at you when he’s not in a fog, or having a bad day—like he wants to kiss you.

“I was fourteen, so…almost twenty years ago”

“Fourteen? You were so young”

“I had to”

“I don’t doubt that…and we don’t have to get into it, unless talking about it will help”

“It is heavy to carry around, and sometimes the guilt catches up to me. But he was a very bad person.”

Seungmin finds your hand and squeezes it between his. “We are strangely similar, despite being a world away from each other our entire lives.”

“You don’t think I’m terrible for killing my father?”

“Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?

“No…but, it seems different. It's worse than killing a stranger.”

His stare goes straight through you, and you're so exposed again. Whatever is going on behind his eyes is locked up, though. You need to know what he's thinking about. “Let’s go back to the room and finish this. You’re getting cold.”

[sunshinehaze1]

About Last Night…

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Summary: You met The Dieter Bravo last night, but does he remember meeting you?

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. smut, handjob, f!oral, unprotected PiV, mentions of drug use, reader has hair long enough to tug, smoking

a/n: This was written for @jolapeno Dear-uary Challenge and I received this prompt. Thank you to @peepawispunk & @80ssong for their beta reads! 😘 I hope you enjoy!

word count: 1,744

ao3 | ml

Dieter groans, turns onto his side, and opens his eyelids to find two ibuprofen tablets and a glass of water on his bedside table. He's unsure how he even managed to get to his bed. He can't remember much of last night; as usual, he drank too much, smoked too much, and snorted too much. He knows he needs to get his partying under control; he's not keen on another stint in rehab or being the subject of more tabloid fodder. His team would be grateful, too. But he enjoys it too much. He loves hosting parties at his house and having access to beautiful men and women who want to shower him with adoration and attention. Aspiring actors, writers, and producers all want a piece of him. It's not easy to give those perks up—one of the benefits of being an actor in high demand.

The tablets are sitting atop a slip of paper. He picks them up and throws them back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, emptying the glass of water in a couple of gulps. He picks up the slip of paper, his thick thumb and index finger grip the note, and he admires the neat handwriting as he reads:

image text: D- you may not remember much, so let me refresh your memory. This may be where I left you, but we’ll start where we first met. Even with the stroke of a hand and gripping conversation, this place is the pits.

Dieter, confused, rereads the note. Who did he meet last night that would have left this note? As usual, his house was overflowing with people. Most were friends or people he'd worked with in the industry; surely, it wasn't one of them. His friends tend to bring along their friends, and those friends bring their friends, and soon, his Hollywood Hills home is overrun with strangers.

He pulls on his green robe and exits the bedroom, traipsing over the remnants of the night before. Dodging obstacles of empty glasses, discarded clothing, ashtrays filled with cigarette butts and roaches, coffee tables dusted in white powder, and rolled up hundred dollar bills. A record spins around the player, scratching and skipping with each rotation. People in various states of undress are scattered across the floor and couches.

He finally reaches the conversation pit—avocado green cushions accented with cream and mustard yellow pillows. He descends the carpeted stairs, still unsure what kind of wild goose chase he's being led on. As he straightens the pillows, a slip of paper dances through the air when he moves them around. Dieter bends down to pick it up after it floats to the ground. Suddenly, a flash of recollection races across his mind.

A vision of you and him, bodies close together, barely any space between you two. Your arm draped over his shoulders, and your hand in his lap gripped tightly around his cock. Your hands make languid strokes along his length as you purr into his ear, teasing him. He's impossibly hard, and his eyes scan the party to see if anyone has noticed his precarious situation. A rush of heat skates up his chest to his neck as the risk of getting caught arouses him. You coo, "Baby, you're so hard, I can barely wrap my hand around you."

A moan falls out of Dieter's mouth, his gaze occupied by your grasp on his length. He watches as you continue your lazy strokes, the waistband of his pants resting just below his balls. Your movements are hidden by his fluffy teddy bear coat that he has positioned over his lap but not shielded from his view. He's mesmerized by the lacquer on your nails and the reflection of light that bounces off them with each pass along his cock. He feels arousal roil in his belly, and his balls begin to tighten.

Breathily, he spits out, "I'm going to cum."

Squeezing him tighter before you quickly release him, "Not yet, you aren't." You lean in and kiss him on the cheek, "I need a smoke." you giggle as you tuck his still painfully hard dick back into his pants and pull away.

He hears that sweet sound in his mind, and his cock twitches at the memory. Eager to find out what's next on this salacious tour, he reads the note:

image text: orange and bright, this is the perfect place to get a light.

Dieter was drawn to this home because of the mid-century modern architecture, and he leaned into the aesthetic. Much of the decor is original to the house, including the burnt orange malm fireplace on his back patio.

He heads outside. The sun is now high in the sky, having slept the morning away. Dieter squints to avoid the torture of the sun's rays on his brutal hangover. As he approaches the seating area around the fireplace, he spots a slip of notebook paper under an ashtray littered with discarded butts and blunts on the table.

It prompts his memory. After you left him with blue balls in the conversation pit, you dragged him outside for a smoke. He walked closely behind you with his hands on your hips to conceal his erection as you navigated through the party crowd. His dick was aching, desperate for release. But his curiosity to know more about you was enough of a distraction for now.

He observes you taking a drag from the cigarette between your soft lips. "How long have you lived here?" you inquire as you purse your lips to exhale the smoke up and to the side, away from his face.

"Um, a few years now. I bought it after Cliffs Beasts 6." His eyes rake up and down your body, taking in your curves and the disarming smile that spreads across your face.

"I liked that movie."

Dieter scoffs, unbelieving someone like you would enjoy the movie, let alone see it. It was a flop, an example of a studio trying to milk everything out of a franchise at any expense. There is no way you actually liked the movie.

"No, really, I did." There's that smile again; he knew then that he was done for, his body warmed by the sincerity in your eyes.

Chuckling to himself at the memory, he looks down at the slip of paper, which reads:

image text: I cried out, with your tongue inside, while the Kid sang about Nikki.

Dieter enters his music room, eyeing the wall of his record collection. His fingers dance along the spines of the album covers until he finds Purple Rain. Carefully, he pulls the record out of its sleeve and watches as another slip of paper falls to the ground. He replaces the spinning record and gently places the needle onto the vinyl, A-side up.

The castle started spinning

Or maybe it was my brain

I can't tell you what she did to me

But my body will never be the same

The images of last night in this room flood his mind. You, on your back, laid across the faux fur rug. It was as vivid as if you were there with him right now. Your shapely legs stretched out in front of you, with your perfect pussy glistening in the dim lamplight. His body prone with his face between your thighs, inhaling your scent. He laps into your sweet heat, his tongue teasing through your folds and flicking over your clit. His forearms wrapped around your thighs to hold you in place when you begin to writhe, pushing your core into his face, chasing your orgasm.

Oh, her lovin' will kick your behind

Oh, she'll show you no mercy

But she'll sure enough, sure enough

Show you how to grind

He laps at your release while you cry out his name, unable to control the rutting of his hips against the rug, searching for relief from his aching, throbbing cock. He's been on edge for the last couple of hours, patiently waiting for his release.

At the memory, he realizes he can still taste you on his lips. It's faint, but it's enough to make his cock move. Having sobered up a bit more, he's intrigued to find out where he'll be led next and picks up the piece of paper:

image text: you’ll find this journey come to a close in the place where you like to powder your nose…

Dieter walks down the hall to his bathroom. Vintage aqua blue tiles cover the floor, shower, and halfway up the wall, trimmed in navy blue tiles. The mirror above the matching pedestal sink is covered in writing—a phone number in red lipstick with handwriting that matches the notes—your phone number. Thanks to you and this little scavenger hunt you sent him on, he's slowly pieced together his night with you. He may not remember it all, but his senses help, recalling the feel of your soft, silken skin, your floral perfume, and the way you taste. And he's transported back.

He pictures you bent over the sink as he slides down your panties. Tugging your hair as he slides his cock inside you from behind. Remembering the gasps and moans, you couldn't help but release as he thrust into your warm, wet heat. Rubbing your swollen clit as you approach your second climax, nibbling on your ear, which finally sends you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing his cock so tight he had to pull out quickly to paint his spend across your bare ass. His sweaty brow meets yours, the both of you gasping to catch your breath as he leaves a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose.

His dick was now half hard at the memory.

He pulls his phone out of his robe pocket and opens the camera app. He points it toward the mirror as he takes in his disheveled state: hair tousled and astray, light brown curls pointing in every direction. He notices a stain down the front of his grey tunic and his striped pants slung low on his hips. He does little to improve his appearance before he snaps a picture, tongue wagging, eyes wide, making sure his semi-hard cock is captured in the frame.

He types the number you left on the mirror and attaches the photo.

"I found you."

A couple of minutes later, his phone pings, "It's about damn time; I've been waiting all morning for you. 😉"

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

tagging a few folks who may be interested in reading: @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @ak-vintage @kilamonster (lemme know if you prefer I not clog your notifs)

[l-starsz]

Billie convincing reader to let her eat her pussy on her period

I'm inlove with your fics, you're such a damn good writer 🫶🏽🫶🏽

a/n: this probably isn’t great because i’m SOOO tired and my head is pounding rn but i hope it’s good at least🥲 and thank you so much ml!! i’m so sorry this took ages for me to write🫶

billie and i were laying in bed together, watching a movie. her back was resting against the comfy pillows on our bed, whilst my back was resting against her front. i was sat between her legs, and her hands were lightly resting against my thighs. we were both intrigued in the movie, or so i thought. whilst i was watching, and keeping up with the storyline, billies hands began to wander. they roamed up my stomach, cupping my boobs gently, before moving down again to this time, rest against my inner thighs.

i really tried to focus on the movie, but i just couldn't with her hands all over me. i knew nothing could happen, i was on my period, which meant that i had to wait a few more days until she could touch me. i'd been so horny. i was desperate for her, but we both knew that nothing could be done about it. well, she could fix my horniness, but i felt bad for asking her to do that when i was on my period. so i waited, and somehow put up with the feeling of being unbearably horny almost all day, every day.

soon enough, i felt her pressing light kisses behind my ear, down my neck, before lightly whispering in my ear.

"can i try something, baby?"

i slightly turned in her arms so that i could see her face, before answering her in a hushed tone.

"and what would that be, hm bil?"

"please can i taste you?"

my eyebrows furrowed and i looked away as i wondered why she was even asking. she knew i was on my period. she'd practically been taking care of me for the last few days. grabbing me a hot water bottle, or holding me in her arms whenever my cramps worsened. getting me whatever food i wanted when i was craving something. making sure i was drinking plenty of water. she really was the best. i just didn't understand why she was asking this now.

"i.. baby, you know i'm still on my period."

"i know.. i just can't wait!! i want to taste you please, love. i'll do anything."

i hesitated slightly. what if i made a mess, and then she got mad? what if i didn't taste good? she must have noticed the look on my face because she began speaking again.

"if you're not comfortable with this, then we don't have to do it. but i promise you that you don't need to overthink it, there should be no what if's filling your mind. you know i love you no matter what. i think you're the most perfect girl in the world."

how did she know?

it was like she could read my mind.

"pleaseeee? pinky promise i'll take great care of you, angel. just like always. pretty please?"

if i hadn't been so horny for the last few days, i probably would've said no, but that side of my brain just took over. i needed her so so bad. i reminded myself that she would always love me. this wasn't going to change that. she wanted this just as much as i did.

"if i say yes, can you put a towel down? you know.. just in case?" i mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

"of course, angel. whatever makes you feel the most comfortable." she answered me, placing soft kisses on my forehead.

once i'd spent a short amount of time thinking about it, i looked back into her eyes and nodded.

"i need you billie."

she just smirked at my words, before sitting me up slightly so that she could move from behind me, and settle in between my legs instead.

it didn't take her long to leave the room and grab a towel, folding it slightly and placing it underneath me. she sat on her knees at first, slowly pulling my pyjamas and underwear down so that she had the perfect view of me. once our clothes had been discarded in a messy pile on the floor, she leaned down to lay on her stomach, getting even closer to my core. i let out a needy whine when all she did was lightly blow against my pussy.

she could already see how wet i was. i hadn't told her about how needy id been for the past few days, but i think that as soon as she caught a glance of how wet i was, she immediately realised. she didn't bother to waste any more time, diving straight in. her tongue ran a long stripe up my pussy, before focusing on my clit. she was trying to get me wetter, it wasn't like she needed me to be wetter, she just wanted to tease. i reached my hands down to grab her hair, pulling her impossibly closer to my core in an attempt to get her to move faster.

we both knew that i was already pretty sensitive because of how long i'd needed this, so it wouldn't take her long to get me close, which was why she was trying to drag it out as much as possible. she wanted me to last as long as i could.

her tongue flicked my clit, before licking and slurping, just doing as much as she could to bring me pleasure. after what felt like an eternity, she finally moved to push her tongue inside of me. she worked her tongue against my tight walls as they squeezed against her. my orgasm was approaching fast, and my arousal must have been dripping all over the lower half of her face. at that point, i'd completely forgot that i was on my period, and i think billie had forgotten too. we were both too focused on me finishing.

i was so close, and to add to the pleasure, she pressed her fingers on my clit, quickly rubbing circles against it, making my moans as loud as they could get. i couldn't hold it any longer. no matter how hard i tried, i was too desperate.

"billie! baby, can i cum for you? please?" i moaned out.

"that's ittt." she praised, "cum for me, my love."

as soon as i heard those words, my orgasm hit me. my moans and cries were broken whilst i let the feeling consume me. my back was arching off the bed, and my hands were still tangled in billies hair, gripping onto it tight to ground myself slightly.

as i started to come down from my high, my grip loosened on her hair, and i felt one of her hands gently rubbing my stomach to help me calm down. when i finally flopped against the bed, trying to catch my breath, billie pulled her face away from me, looking into my eyes with a proud smile. all i could see was a mixture of my arousal, and blood dripping down her chin and coating her lips.

my cheeks turned red and i covered my face, embarrassed even though i knew billie was just happy that she'd made me feel good.

i didn't even notice her come closer to my face until i felt her carefully grabbing my wrists to pry my hands away from my face, and i heard her pretty voice.

"don't be embarrassed, angel. can i go clean you up now?"

"please." i nodded and thanked her, allowing myself to be lifted up in her arms, my head resting on my shoulder out of exhaustion.

once we took a long shower, and pampered each other, it was time for us to get back in bed and watch movies for the rest of the day, enjoying each others company just like usual.

[amethyst-geek]

Attention ML fanfic writers

Regardless of whether or not you give Chloe a redemption arc in your fanfics, Chloe should always among the characters who raises their hands when someone asks for ideas, only for Chloe to be among the people who has to put their hand back down when the idea-asker specifies "that DON'T involve murder."

Scenario 1- AU where Chloe gets an actual redemption arc and remains Queen Bee

Ladybug: in light of Rena Rogue's research suggesting Hawk Moth may be Gabriel Agreste, do any of you have any ideas on how to go about investigating this theory or reclaiming the butterfly and peacock miraculous in the event of the theory turning out to be true?

(half of the team, including Queen Bee raises their hand)

Ladybug: ...that DON'T involve murder?

(Queen Bee, Ryuko, Carapace, and Purple Tigress putting their hands bacck down)

Scenario 2- AU where in season 5, instead of melting all of the stolen miraculi into rings that transfer power to akuma, Gabriel instead hands otu the stolen miraculi is lackeys, including Chloe, who assists the various akumas.

Mr. Pigeon: thank you all so much for coming to assist me. Unfortunately, one can only be akumatized so many time before running out of fresh ideas. DO any of you have any suggestions regarding how to give Paris to the pigeon or taking Ladybug and Chat Noir's miraculous?

(Turtle!Chloe, Goat!Lila, and Rooster!Bob Roth all raise their hands)

Mr. Pigeon: that DON'T involve murder?

(Turtle!Chloe and Goat!Lila both put their hands back down)

Mr. Pigeon: Nevermind. I'll just have the pigeons take the Effiel Tower into space again. Third time's the charm.

Scenario 3

Bustier: Do any of you have an idea for what to do for the fundraiser?

(half the class raises their hands)

Bustier: that DON'T involve murder?

(Chloe, Lila, and Juleka put their hands back down)

Bustier: and people wonder why my canon self decided to switch over to politics.

[dramaaddict]

The Blossoming Love

This is a rant post coz the promotions for The Blossoming Love SUCKS SO BAD. Starting with that title which is so generic and basic with both most overused words in cdrama titles 'Blossom' and 'Love'. The direct translation for Chinese title is "Thousands of peach blossoms bloom forever" which in my opinion is still not very good but it's longer and most importantly DISTINCT.

And then the posters. I'm pretty sure I've seen this exact same type of posters for other dramas. Nothing about these posters are appealing to me. I even thought the first one was a poster from another drama of his coz look.

The latest released poster and the photo shoot they did are so much better. I think it has something to do with the colors but I'm not an expert so I can't say for sure.

If they just want to show the vibe of the earlier parts, a poster like this

or if they can't add in a kiss in the poster coz you never know with Chinese censors something like this would work too instead of those.

AND THEN THE TRAILER. I've seen people watch it and saying it's just another "Journey of the Flower" type drama (understandably) but it makes me wanna scream IT'S NOT DON'T COMPARE MY XXC TO THAT WIMP. But the trailer sucks so bad if I just saw this first I wouldn't be interested too. Like who made this atrocity, I just wanna have a talk.

Another problem is people watching just the first few episodes and judging the whole drama based on them. It's just sad. TBF, If I haven't already seen the posts from @dangermousie and @fake-married-my-dead-fiance (Thank you guys so much) I too would have thought it's another generic Xianxia with so call "Righteous" ML (who is actually just a hypocrite and a coward who judge other based on their identities instead of their actions or don't dare go against traditions/others and never even question "the righteous way" when he clearly knows it's anything but that.) And this type of MLs disgust me the most even more than someone like Li Cheng Yin. (OP gods who aren't allowed to feel are another type although they're not bad just frustrating which Shen Li made it work last year.) That's why the "Good Guy" MLs have always repelled me in Xianxia but this drama makes it work. This is the first time I find the Righteousness of the ML extremely attractive.

Tell me how to not fall for this.

This drama don't have big names with large fandoms backing them while airing at the same time as THREE other dramas with traffic stars in them. Youku don't do anything to promote it properly either.

I want to see more posts about this drama, people discussing it, posting about specific scenes or drama watching threads but it's really difficult to find since so few are watching this. I won't blame it if you truly don't enjoy it since everyone don't have the same taste but please at least give it a chance. You can even watch it by ffing. If you still aren't sure and don't mind the spoilers check out @dangermousie and @fake-married-my-dead-fiance posts about this.

P.S- This is the exact scene that convinced me that I'm 100% going to love this drama and it's in ep 1 btw.

Disclaimer: I'm not a good writer and this post is not very organized coz it was a sudden impulse. I just wanted to write out my frustrations after seeing a video about it.

Update: This trailer also sucks.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

U should write more Ian x reader, like a besties to lovers one? No pressure if ur busy ofc <3

More Than Friends || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: you have been ignoring your growing feelings for your best friend ian, but when you are chosen to do a romantic scene together will those feelings stay hidden?

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mild cursing

a/n: ahh thank you so much for this request ml, i’ve been meaning to write for ian again!! hope you enjoy this and have a wonderful day!! 🎀☁️🍒

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Ok, hear me out. The story is ‘getting a root canal’ but we make it a full on musical with production numbers and everything.”

     Angela’s loud voice broke over the chatter you had been drowning out and you looked across the table. 

     You had been sitting in an early-morning writers meeting discussing ideas for a new sketch for what felt like hours. 

     Whoever thought it would be a good idea to make you and everyone else be creative at 8:00am….

     “Angela,” Chanse chided.

     “What? I had a dentist appointment this morning and I was inspired.”

     “Anyone else have any ideas that don’t have the words ‘root canal’ in them?” Chanse asked.

     “What screams Smosh more than a root canal musical!” Angela looked around the room for help.

     Alas, it didn’t look like you were getting anywhere anytime soon. 

    You watched as Ian, who sat to your left, let his head slip from his hand where it had been rested on the table.

     “Look alive, Mr. President-of-the-company,” you whispered to him, covering the fact that you had definitely been watching him longer than was friend-like.

     Looks like you weren’t the only one who suffered from drowsiness that morning.

     “I was totally paying attention,” Ian yawned. “Something about boats.”

     You rolled your eyes and smiled at your best friend. You’d known Ian since you two were little—in fact, he was the reason you'd got your job at Smosh all those years back.

     You’d been staying with him for the past week while your apartment was being renovated and you'd definitely stayed up too late last night watching reruns of friends. Which probably contributed to you both nodding off during this meeting.

   “Twenty bucks says someone suggests kiss currency part two,” you whispered to Ian.

     “Are you kidding? No way I’m gonna take you up on that, I don’t have spare cash on me.”

     “Did someone say kissing?” Courtney waggled her eyebrows. 

     “Yeah, (Y/n) was just begging me to suggest a kissing sketch,” Ian teased.

     You smacked Ian’s arm, feeling your cheeks warm. “I was not!”

     “Ian just wants to kiss you, that’s all,” Anthony leaned over his friend to tell you conspiratorially.

     Ian pretended to gag. “I’d rather kiss Shayne.”

     “Hey!” Shayne threw up his hands in outrage.

     You laughed along with everyone but you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your fist around your coffee mug.

     You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when you had begun to have feelings for Ian that were more than friendly. One minute he was just your best friend Ian and the next he was this funny, attractive guy who made your pulse race when he touched your arm or gave you one of his smiles. 

     You knew Ian didn’t return your feelings—you were sure of that. This new development was entirely one sided. Which was why you were absolutely, definitely never going to tell him. Ever.

     You sighed as you watched Ian lean away from you and towards Anthony to whisper something to him.     

     Everyone was silent for a moment and you leaned back in your seat, running a hand through your hair. 

     “Hey, to piggyback off of the kissing thing,” Anthony started, his voice breaking through the silence, “what if we did an ‘every dramatic love confession scene ever’? It’s been a while since we’ve done that style of video.”

     “Ooh good idea,” Ian said, “Those ‘we want the old Smosh’ people will love that. I can already see the views.”

     “Always ‘the content’ with you,” you teased him.

     “He’s right though,” Spencer chimed in, “Especially if we had you and Ian do some scenes together. People would eat that up; it’ll give ‘em more material for their edits. I’m talking Shourtney part two.”

     You watched as Shayne and Courtney looked at each other and grinned. Damn it, why couldn’t you and Ian be like them!

     But, Spencer wasn’t wrong. Ever since you had begun working at Smosh, fans had been convinced you and Ian were dating. You guys had always laughed about all of the comments and posts together. 

     You and Ian? As if!

     But lately, as you watched the fan edits and read the YouTube comments, you couldn’t help but wish that you and Ian actually were what all of these people thought you were. 

     “I can see it now: April 1st, 2025, Ian and (Y/n). Shourtney part two” Ian echoed Spencer’s comment and nodded. “Zach Justice and Tara level shipping.”

     “You know who they are, grandpa?” You snorted.

     “For the last time, I’m four months older than you!”

     You laughed as Ian spoke again.

     “I mean, I’m in if you’re in,” he turned to you,  “For the sketch. If you don’t mind pretending to be into me. I know it’ll be hard not to fall hopelessly in love with me.” 

     “How will I ever manage,” you deadpanned sarcastically, even as your palms began to feel sweaty. Ignoring your feelings on a daily basis was hard enough, let alone doing a love scene together. But you couldn’t very well refuse and have everyone, including Ian, wonder why. 

     Besides, it could be fun. It’d been a while since you’d done a sketch, and regardless of how you felt about Ian, he was still your best friend and you would get to spend a lot of time on set with him. 

     You took a deep breath. You were probably going to regret the next words that came out of your mouth. 

     “Let’s do it”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “Shut up and kiss me,” you said, throwing your pretend purse to the ground as you stepped forwards.”

     “Not until you promise me that I’m the only one,” Ian sniffed dramatically. “I cant lose you again, baby.”

     “It’s only you,” you yelled, “It’s always only been you.”

     “Then kiss me,” Ian took a step towards you. “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed anyone before.”

     “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” you leaned in. 

     “And then we kiss,” Ian said in a lighter voice, breaking character as you ended the scene. “I feel like it should be raining in the background of this, damn. Ooh, note to self: talk to them about fake rain.”

     “Right,” you smiled shakily, trying not to let the scene have affected you. You were at Ian’s place—your apartment still wasn’t livable—and Ian had suggested you rehearse your scene again for the shoot the next day. 

     You had just received the script and were already panicking a how real it all was. The two characters in the scene were friends who fell in love with each other. Just your luck.

     You silently cursed whoever had written the whole thing. 

     “So do you want to rehearse the kiss before tomorrow?” Ian’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

     “Oh, um, I think it might be better if we just wing it. You know, realistic first kiss and all.”

     “As long as you don’t pull a Jennifer Lawrence on me,” Ian laughed, “No garlic fries.”

     You placed a hand to your chest in mock surprise, “Wow Ian, two pop culture references in one day? I’m so proud.”

     “I learned from the best,” Ian booped your nose and you felt your heart flutter. 

     You flopped down on your couch-bed in the middle of the living room and kicked your pajama-pant-clad legs out in front of you. 

     Ian sat down next to you and picked up the TV remote. “Do you mind?”

     You shook your head as he turned on the television. A show was playing that you’d definitely seen before, but you weren’t paying attention. 

     You couldn’t focus on anything but Ian’s presence next to you as he scooted closer to you and laid his arm over the back of the couch behind you. He smelled like pine and soap and a hint of the day’s cologne and the scent was so familiar and so damn attractive that you couldn’t ever imagine a time when you hadn’t wanted him all over you. How had you been so ignorant then?

     You rested your head on Ian’s chest and let out a sigh. All of this was so normal—you two laying there, watching TV, falling asleep next to each other—and yet it felt so different. 

     Ian kissed the top of your head gently and mumbled “Goodnight, (Y/n).”

     You muttered a soft, “‘Night.”

     Sometimes, when you were really desperate, you imagined that your best friend felt the same way about you that you did about him. In all the little ways that he made you feel special and loved, you found an almost something. It was times like these that you let yourself imagine, what if?

     But then you reminded yourself that you and Ian had always been this way. The only difference was your pulse racing and your heart jumping into your throat whenever he looked at you or touched you. 

     You let your eyes close as the sounds of whatever comedy was on played in the background.

     It was strange how you could feel so anxious and so comfortable at the same time. Despite all the new uneasiness that came with your romantic feelings towards Ian, you were still calmed by his presence. You still knew him better than anyone else. You still wanted this forever. Which is why you couldn’t let yourself change things. 

     You felt Ian wrap his arm around you and you shifted slightly on the bed. This felt right, you thought. How could you dare mess that up with unrequited love making everything difficult?

     Because that was scary. Changing everything was scary. Losing him was scary. But this? This was comfortable, you thought. And it was true. 

     You had never felt more comfortable before in your life.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You had never felt more uncomfortable in your life. 

     You’d thought last night was awkward, reading through the script with Ian. But today, as you reminded yourself you’d have to kiss him and not make it seem like it meant anything to you, you were sweating through your floral-pattern dress. 

     “Hey (Y/n)!”

     You spun around to find Ian wearing a full on tuxedo, complete with a boutonnière and everything. 

     “Wow, you look—”

     “Like prom threw up on me? Yeah, I know,” Ian joked, “But you look like the lead in a romcom so thumbs up costume coordinator.”

     You looked down at your dress. You had gone to costuming earlier on and had just come out of hair and makeup. You hoped you hadn't already sweated it all off. 

     You looked back up at Ian. He looked—well, aside from drop dead gorgeous—like he had eaten something that didn’t quite agree with him.

     You opened your mouth to ask if he was feeling ok when you were called to set by one of the directors.

     “Looks like that’s us,” Ian smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

     You walked over to the set that you would be using, which looked like the outside of a building that could have been a school or a convention center. Apparently Angela had just had it lying around from a previous play. It looked really realistic, almost too realistic.

     You took a deep breath as you stepped onto set and Ian followed you. 

     You got this, you told yourself, you know all of your lines and you’re not going to mess this up.

     You looked out at the rest of the Smosh cast and crew, busy on set or waiting for their scenes. 

     “Ok and rolling…” you heard the director call.

     You prepared yourself. Ian stepped to the side of you. “You ready for this?”

     “Yeah,” you whispered, “definitely. Are you ok? You look pretty pale.”

     “I’m good,” Ian assured you with a nod, “just ate some weird pistachios at the snack table. I’d stay away if I were you.”

     “Noted,” you giggled.

     “…And Action!”

     You immediately were thrown into the scene. Ian had the first line and you tried to get into character.

     “What is your problem, Amy?” Ian said.

     “My problem?” you spat, trying to channel your inner romcom protagonist, “Are you really going to make me sit here and spell it out for you, Jake?”

     “That’d be nice,” Ian—Jake—scoffed.

     “Fine,” you made your voice shaky, “You wanna know what my problem is? My problem is that you came here with Veronica when you knew that all I wanted to do was be your date tonight.”

     “How would I know that? Was I supposed to just guess? You’re my best friend, Amy, why wouldn’t you just tell me!”

     “You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” You—Amy—asked him. “Because you’re my best friend. That’s why. I’ve had to sit here and watch you with girl after girl while all I wanted was as to be one of them.”

     You stepped closer to Ian as you kept saying your lines, trying to summon tears “I have been in love with you for years. Years, Jake. But I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose this.”

     You gestured between the two of you, trying to clear your mind and do what you had rehearsed. You refused to let any of your own thoughts slip in. 

     You continued, “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. So go ahead. It’s ruined now. Go back to your date and have the best night with her. I’ll just be here on the sidelines like I always have been.”

     You turned and pretended to walk away and as planned Ian grabbed your wrist and you spun around.

     “You don’t get it,” he started, “I love you. I always have loved you. From the moment I met you, I have loved you. I love the way you tie your hair up when you’re working on something. I love the way your nose scrunches up when something amuses you. I love your perfume and the way it kinda makes me dizzy when I’m near you. I love you. I have never loved anyone more.”

      Ian’s eyes were intense as he looked down at you. 

     “And I never told you because, look at you. You’re way out of my league, I was lucky to have you as a friend. But, it’s always been you. I love you so much and I can’t believe you love me back. I’ll keep saying it as long as I am still breathing. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

     Even though it was acting, you’d never seen Ian like this. Not even when you were rehearsing. This was raw and emotional and it was hard not to let yourself believe it was real. The air was thick and you were both breathing heavy, the room silent except for the synchronized sound of your breathing. You stepped towards Ian, preparing to tell him to ‘shut up and kiss you’, as the script said, but he kept speaking.

     “I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to say all this. But, I want to be more than friends. And now that you know, will you be  more than friends with me, (Y/n)?”

     You jolted at his use of your name and not your character’s. None of this was in the script, as far as you knew.

     “Ian—” You whispered, looking around. 

     He took your hands, swallowing hard. ���This is real, (Y/n). And I meant every word.”

     You couldn’t process what was happening. You searched Ian’s face and he looked honest and hopeful and a little scared. But he was sincere. You didn’t see any evidence that this was some kind of practical joke. Was Ian saying…

     You moved to stand even closer to him. 

     “Shut up and kiss me,” you said hesitantly, saying the line you were supposed to say earlier. 

     A slow smile came to Ian’s face, getting what you were doing. “Not until you promise me that I’m the only one, I cant lose you again, baby.”

     “It’s only you,” you whispered, “It’s always only been you.”

     “Then kiss me,” Ian said. “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed anyone before.”

     “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” you leaned in. 

     And scene, You thought, So much for not letting this be real.

     And then your lips were on his, and you were kissing him. And Ian was kissing you back. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. You ran your hands through his hair and you felt him shiver beneath your touch.

     As you kissed Ian, your best friend, you silently thanked your luck—that this had happened, that Ian returned your feelings.

     Ian pulled away gently, brushing your hair back from your face.

     “Wow,” you breathed, “that was—”

     “That was everything I’d imagined it would be,” Ian said.

     And then, all of a sudden, the entire studio burst into applause. You looked out at all of your friends and cast mates clapping and cheering for you. Had they been in on this the whole time? Had they all known that Ian would break character and confess real feelings for you?

     “Just to be sure,” Ian said, “You do actually like me back right? You weren’t just finishing the scene?”

     You laughed, “Yes, Ian, I like you. A lot.”

     “Phew,” Ian laughed, calling out to the people gathered, “It’s a yes guys, she said yes! And sorry about ruining the shoot!”

     “You kidding? That was the most realistic love scene I’ve ever seen. How could we not use that?” Anthony called back.

     You giggled and placed your hands on Ian’s chest, “About that, I didn’t know you could be so cheesy and romantic.”

     “Only for you,” he said. “And I wouldn’t say cheesy. Poetic and beautiful, maybe.”

     You rolled your eyes at him, but you’d never been happier. You wouldn’t be able to stop smiling for days. And you didn’t want to. 

     All this time, as you’d been battling your own feelings, Ian had had feelings for you. You no longer had to pretend, because everything you wanted with Ian was already happening. 

     You smiled up at him, “I love you, Ian.”

     You had said it so many times platonically, but it felt different now. And yet the same.

     “I love you so much, (Y/n).”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You put your hair up into a ponytail as you walked towards Ian’s office. You had changed out of your romcom dress and back into the clothes you wore to the studio today. Now that you were done with the shoot, Ian had said he wanted to take you out. Your first real date. 

     You rounded the corner and went to enter Ian’s doorway, but you stopped when you heard voices. 

     “Hey, thanks man,” Ian’s voice carried into the hallway. “Thanks for suggesting that sketch.”

     “Anything for my friend,” Anthony said. “When your best friend whispers ‘hey can you suggest a sketch where me and (Y/n) have to be romantic together’ you step up.”

     You strained to hear. What? Was Ian saying he had planned that whole thing? He was the one who wanted to do that sketch?

     “Besides,” Anthony continued, “I didn’t even really do anything. You wrote the whole thing. Speaking of which, damn man, warn somebody! I’ll bring tissues to set next time.”

     You couldn’t believe it! That entire scene, about two random characters, Ian had written it all for you and him. 

     “You wrote all that?” You stepped into Ian’s office a look of shock on both men’s faces.

     “(Y/n), how much of that did you hear?” Ian asked nervously.

     “Enough to be even more in love with you than when I walked over here, if that’s possible.”

     Ian looked relieved as he came over to you and put his arms around you. “Well, then yeah, I wrote it. And I meant every word I said about loving you.”

     “Wow, I gotta work on my speech writing skills,” you teased, “I didn’t know I was best friends with The Bard himself this whole time.”

     “It’s a gift,” Ian smiled, kissing you softly. “And I had plenty of time to practice being poetic, being in love with you for years.

     “I’m going to go,” Anthony’s voice interrupted, “because I feel like a third wheel and not because my eyes are watering—damn allergies. I’m so happy for both of you.”

     Anthony left the room and you both burst into laughter. 

    Ian placed a soft kiss to your lips again, and you smiled. You couldn’t believe this was your reality. 

     Some of your best memories and moments were with Ian as a best friend. And now you got to experience a whole new world with Ian your boyfriend. You couldn’t wait.

     You were wrong the night before, you thought, as Ian wrapped his arms around you.     

     This, this was the most comfortable you’d ever been. 

     “Hey, I hate to interrupt,” Angela peeked into the room, “but now that we’re done with the operation-get-Ian-and-(Y/n)-together sketch—congrats by the way—where are we at on Root Canal the Musical?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope y’all enjoyed this!! if you did, check out my other ian fic + my ian hcs 🤭🍓💌

[dangermousie]

Hi

I am a lurker and I've followed your Tumblr for a while. I want to check out the First Frost but after reading your recent post abt the complete lack of plot, I wonder should I even try to get into it? The other shows that you like Lost you forever 1, a journey to love 2023, Blossom 2024, Derailment, or even the Love of the Divine tree make me think that your tastes align with what I usually enjoy as well.

And I love your whole rant about a male interest's loserism in love. But it seems that the ML here suffers the exact same fate: he is fixating on and being so down bad for the FL and cannot move on here in TFF for no believable reason? They were highschool sweethearts I get that but other than she's ethereal and extremely pretty and fragile and embodies the kind of weak and docile woman that men want to dote on and protect, what else does she have by modern society standards that other women do not have that makes him do this very... unrealistic pining for her almost a decade later on?

Like the ML seems to exist as a wish fulfillment. Just two very pretty people together.

I also read reviews of Chinese fans and they rant that characterization of the FL sets Chinese feminism hundreds years back. The FL has nothing going on for her except torturing and abuse and trauma, and her biggest sin is to be too beautiful and fragile like a flower. And not in the sense of WTPR but in a very passive and muted way and overall she's just very beautiful that makes ppl's hearts ache?

Do you think the criticism are warranted and whether writers turn her into a victim in a very excessive and forced way, taking away all her power? I’m interested in hearing what you say about Chinese viewers’ complaints?

Hi!!! This is a fun ask, thank you!

OK, there are three issues in the ask: (1) is there enough plot (2) how are ML's attitudes not unrealistic perfection for unworthy FL (3) is FL weak. Because I am contrary and because I want to rant about (3) the most, I am gonna do it after I quickly deal with (1) as the easiest.

(1) Is there enough plot in The First Frost for you or anyone who likes some plot.

Before I get into the meat of this, a quick disclaimer - I am a strong believer that people should check things they are interested for themselves/not check out things they think they won't like regardless of what others say about it. I mean, I love TFF and can (and will) explain at length as to why but all that means is it clicks for me in my lizard brain and I try to come up with a lot of words to justify why I have that reaction (actually that's rather like love, come to think of it.) All my years on tumblr, I think I've come across like two people where our tastes are so aligned that if they rec I'd almost certainly like it and vice versa. Everyone else is who knows.

To get to the answer - there is very little plot in this drama. This is very much a character study and a relationship piece and a slice of life. These are narratives that I find it very hard to pull off but when they are done well, are my favorite. It makes me think of older twdramas like In Time With You (two long term friends slowly fall in love) or jdramas like Long Vacation (an out of work model and out of work pianist end up as roommates) or Aishteiru to Ittekure (an older deaf/mute painter and a bubbly younger aspiring actress fall in love.) Perhaps an older kdrama like Worlds Within (the lives of various employees of a TV station) also fits. These are all huge favorites but none of them have more than a teaspoon of plot. The joy of them is watching the characters who feel like real people live and breathe.

I cannot tell if there will be sufficient plot for you. All I can tell is if you do like plot, probably not the drama for you.

(2) Is FL weak and setting feminism back.

OK, I want to address this one first because it's making me see red. And not in a fun "what has Santa brought me" kind of way.

I have noticed a tendency in a certain fragment of various fandoms all over the place to have a fit when the protagonists are not OP and always winning and always find it easy. How dare there be ugliness and hardship in life! (I've seen comments about The White Olive Tree, for example, that rant about how ugh it is that ML was not able to easily overcome his horrific trauma from war, death/danger of loved ones, and literal torture and mutilation. That's not "inspirational" apparently.) This fits there.

FL is actually quite strong. She does not need ML to rescue her ever except one time where he helped her when she was being chased. Despite an abusive family that had no money to spend on her either and trauma in her formative years, she had good enough grades to go to a good college and get a good job. She has a couple of friends. She's had setbacks and every single time she's pushed through. Horrific family? She leaves them as soon as she's legally able and supports herself. Dancing is closed as a path? She goes into media. One job doesn't work out. She gets another. Apartment becomes a horror show? She gets another one.

What she isn't, is girlbossing her way through life. Which would be so freaking tiresome. Life is hard for her. There are setbacks. There are also victories. This is how life works for 99% of people in the real world. If one wants a wish fulfillment fantasy, that is not the drama for that viewer, but it never pretended to be - every trailer has been atmospheric and moody. I wonder if people who complain are in part driven by the very different vibe of Hidden Love, a sister story that is so sunny. But that's the thing - Sang Zhi has had a charmed life. The worst thing that ever happened to her in her entire life is having an age inappropriate at the time crush on her brother's older friend that didn't go anywhere at the time because said friend is a decent person. She is from a wealthy family, she's healthy, she has loving supportive parents and a protective older brother. Her eventual boyfriend is a very nice person. This is great and it obviously happens plenty to some people, but this is rather less realistic than anything in TFF.

FL is not in the least passive - the amount of strength it takes to dig her life out of what she had to start with is so so so so huge. Yes, she's "muted" - she's quiet and emotionally withdrawn. Introverts are allowed representation in fiction and in life too. (Also her ML, Sang Yan, is likewise a very quiet man. They are just a quiet couple.) She's neither weak nor docile unless one mistakes quiet for fragility and the only way to be strong is to be a loud extrovert.

With my personal narrative preferences, I always prefer to watch complex, wounded people slowly healing and changing, not someone who's already started on third base proceeding to home run.

As to abuse and trauma, this isn't an early 00s Ady An drama. (To say that's all FL undergoes is to wilfully ignore 95% of her story.) People who say the amount of objectification/sexual trauma she undergoes is unrealistic have been pretty lucky. She's been "mildly" harassed at work a couple of times over her career, attempt-raped as a teen and same as an adult. That happens to plenty of women, and when you take into account that she doesn't have the protection of healthy, supportive, protective family and money (that allows them to not live in apartments with strangers.) I don't know a single adult woman who hasn't been at least harassed and many of us have been worse than.

Final note - the only thing that sets feminism are stories who posit all women need a man to function and to have kids and be homemakers with them. Outside of Mormon TV and similar, not much of a thing.

(2) Is ML just wish fulfillment for an unworthy FL

The two are each other's first loves. Why? They just click. As she puts it in a voice over in a high school flashback (paraphrase) "it seemed as if there was another me in the world." To be personal for a second, I am deeply in love with Mr Mousie. Can I explain why? Naw. I can explain all sorts of reasons why I think he's a good person, reasons to respect him or what not. But love is such a subjective thing. I think of my high school boyfriend - I was so in love with him. Why? He kissed me in a meadow and had blue eyes and told me he loved me. Is it a good reason? It was for 17 year old me. The drama relies on the chemistry and mirroring and connection between them - whether you buy it, it's up to you.

Unlike in many dramas where devotion/relationship feels uneven, it does not here. It feels so even to me. The two do not meet face to face for eight (!) years after the end of their high school relationship. And in fact, if it wasn't for some coincidences and a common friend circle, may not have met another eight. And both have not moved on yet given up in the same degree.

She has not dated EVER. After him she has not opened her heart to another man in any degree, not even the slightest. In fact, he's probably the first man she's comfortable sharing a living space with (which is huge with her trauma - she does not even lock her door!!!!) We know he hasn't dated either.

She literally views him as her sun whose warmth she craves (that dream!), she tells her friend she broke it off with him back then because he deserved someone better than her. She does not chase him in the present/immediately notice that he's still a goner because she thinks he's moved on/doesn't see what would be special about her to him for him to be at all interested/he's out of her league. This is not a FL dating a bunch of randoms while ML patiently pines.

We see her slowly unfurl in the safety of their apartment - now that she has a breathing space somewhere - a place where she feels safe and comfortable (her house; it's lovely but it's also cozy and safe) and so she acquires bandwidth to deal with emotions - her Maslow hierarchy of needs now allows the next step.

And for ML, it also makes sense. We get the sense he's a very quiet, very private, very reserved, yet very intense person. He doesn't open up even to his loving family, he has like two good friends from high school/college but that's about it. He's not a person who finds it easy to let a lot of people in; it's hard for him to move on from any relationship because he has very few of them and they are all intense (he is so close to his closest friend, Duan Jiaxu, that people (plural) assume they are a gay couple!) He never planned to chase her and try to woo her until stuff in the drama happened - and even now he doesn't really plan to woo her; he wants to be around her and make her life easier because he's never moved on (and neither has she) but he has no expectations or plans of getting back together with her.

She is detached due to trauma and he's detached innately - if you commit so much when you open up, you will open up rarely; just as you will open up rarely if you are dwelling in trauma aftermath the way she is. There is a reason they are both often filmed through mirrors, partitions, reflections - they have both withdrawn themselves and their truest selves from the world and they rediscover connection through and to each other and join the world.

It all feels very real to me though of course MMV.

(And I peeked at the novel, later on she tells him she will chase him (!!!) and they are quite a committed couple for a chunk of the novel so...)

Anyway, to sum up - it works for me, whether it will for you I don't know. I think this is a masterpiece tho.