#Otherwise I wouldn’t be bothering you all rn

[daisyjay887]

Do any of y’all know much about YouTube copyright? I’ve posted three smosh compilation vids (the rest are Dan and Phil) and I’ve had copyright on the first two for a little while now and I just checked and the third vid is now struck as well

what should I do??? I keep seeing shit about the channel getting terminated would that happen for me? I’m not monetizing anything but I’m really concerned

[sgfgmichaelrry]

⁎⁺˳✧༚ dancing with our hands tied

pairing: luke castellan x afab! reader

warnings: mdni, smut, oral (f!rec), kissing, making out, nudity, swearing

word count: 2.5k words

an: i have no excuse for this, i’m in my #thothours rn. also episode 7 of pjo absolutely ruined me in the best way possible

You should have known from the first exchange of hot kisses and hushed whispers that this was a dangerous game to play. Dancing on a tightrope with Luke Castellan was bound to bring more ruin than good, but you couldn’t give a damn; Not when his lips trailed along your neck and perked themselves on the tender flesh. Not when his hands held you dearly like a prayer. And especially not when he’s whimpering oh so sweet for you.

⁎⁺˳✧༚

Under the cascaded moon light, Luke’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist, leading the two of you through the camp and toward your cabin. As he twisted the door knob open with his other hand, he uttered a mental “thank you” to your half-siblings for busying themselves at the camp bonfire tonight. Pushing the door opening, a smirk etched itself on his face when he saw your bed, all made up and ready to be messed up. “You shouldn’t have bothered, princess,” Luke muttered softly. “We’re just going to end up ruining it,” he said, peering down into your eyes.

A blaze filed your cheeks at his words, and you couldn’t deny the tension filling in your chest. “It’s not the first thing you’ve ruined,” the smirk evident in your voice as your warm eyes met his. A quiet chuckle hummed from his lips at your joke, a bemused smile gracing his face as he shook his head. He loosened his grip around your wrist before moving to shut the door behind you. The satisfying click of the lock echoed in the otherwise empty cabin, and it granted him all the courage he needed for the moment.

He moved away from the door, turning his head towards you and within an instant, your arms were thrown behind his head. Your lips crashed with his in a dizzying frenzy, savoring the taste of your lover. His hand sought their place on your waist, his thumbs brushing against the plush of your tummy. Your fingers carded themselves through his bouncy locks before trailing down to rest behind his neck. He pulled apart first before trailing gentle kisses down the expanse of your neck and collarbones, adjusting his hands to rest his palms on your hips.

“Missed me, princess?” he teased you, welcoming the feeling of your fingers tugging his strands. “Something like that,” you sighed out. The feeling of his lips and teeth teetering at your skin made your legs weak, but Luke’s warm grip wouldn’t even let you think of crumbling. His hands found their way to rest delicately on the supple curve of your ass, his mouth trailing underneath your orange cabin shirt to kiss a purple bruise on your skin.

The desperation pooling in your chest brought your hands down to grip his biceps, your whispered pants and whines were swallowed by his mouth. Luke made his way back up to connect his lips with yours, hungry to feel you consume all his senses. “Fuck, baby,” he grunted out, “Hated being away from you all day.” His lips bruised themselves trying to memorize the pattern of your rhythm. “Missed you so bad. Thought about sneaking you off for lunch. Maybe some dessert too.” He whispered between kisses, and his words made the delicate skin between your legs drool. He held your frame close to his as the two of you whisked your way to your bed, eyes fluttering open as you pulled away from his kiss.

His love struck gaze found your own as he laid you down on the bed, his body leaning above her own. “Is this okay, baby?” he whispered, gentle hands toying with the hem of your shirt. Your fingers pulled his chin down to bring your lips together for a brief peck. “Always, my love.” A soft smile illuminated his face as he began lifting the fabric over your skin. The cool air nipped at your flesh, but you couldn’t pay any mind as the warmth radiating off Luke’s frame harbored in your core.

You aided in removing your cover, lifting your arms above your head to pull your shirt off. Luke’s attention was brought to your chest, taking in the precious details of his girl. He took in the delicate bow resting in the middle of your bra, almost like a bow on top of a present made just for him. He took in the freckles decorating your breasts and how each cluster looked like a constellation, sun kisses painting your delicate skin. And he took in the faded memories of previous nights in your bed, a smug grin taking his features as he sees reminders of him on you.

“My eyes are up here, Castellan,” you joked, crossing your arms in a mock offense. Luke’s cheeks warmed up as he realized he got caught staring, blinking and shaking his head suddenly. “Sorry, baby, just couldn’t help myself,” he uttered an apology. “Not when my girl looks this good.” His words sent you quietly giggling, his breath tickling the expanse of your neck as he whispers in your ear. “Oh, aren’t you romantic?” you laughed out, the sarcasm heavy in your tone. His lips engaged with the skin on your chest with a smirk, leaving precious kisses and love bites for you to try to hide tomorrow morning. Your fingers run up his back, leaving scratches in their wake as they make their way to tangle in his curls.

Luke’s lips attached themselves to a tender spot on your neck, painting a beautiful mark that caused your back to arch into his touch. He grazed his thumb gently across the padded curves of your breasts, hands tracing from your rib cage to your back to unclip your bra. He threw the garment to sit next to your shirt, the pile by your desk growing by the minute. He palmed your breasts in his warm hands, and the friction rubbed your nipples so deliciously, making them perk up more in his touch.

His body travels down the expanse of your body, memorizing every inch of your body with his mouth. Luke settles his knees on the floor, his hands now squeezing the plush of your hips over your shorts. His thumbs fiddled with the loops of the denim before catching your eye and offering a sweet smile. “You’re so pretty like this, sweet girl,” he praised, running his hand up and down your thigh. She whined out at his touch, squeezing her thighs with a stroke of his hand. He moved to trail kisses down her tummy, making a sweet moan tumble out her lips as he got closer to where she needed him. “Luke, please touch me,” she moaned out.

She bucked her hips as she began to get impatient, her pussy soaked at Luke’s teasing. “Fuck, baby” she whispered out, desperation seeping through her tone. She knew what game Luke was playing at; the way he grazed his lips above her clothed core, ghosting his fingertips over the sensitive skin. As his lips continued to adorn her thighs with hickeys, she sat up on her elbows, bringing herself face to face with Luke. “Enough teasing, Castellan,” she huffed out. “Touch me or I’ll make myself cum tonight.” His eyes widen at her sudden command, the contrast between her soft whines and demanding tone giving him whiplash and a tighter tent in his pants. A smirk grazed his lips at her demeanor, and he knew that his game was working.

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered out with a sly grin, hands immediately reaching behind his head to pull off the orange cabin shirt he adorned. His arms moved above his head to rid himself of the shirt, his muscles riveting with each flexing move. Now, it had been your turn to stare, to admire the work of art settled on his knees for you. He turned his body to throw his shirt next to your desk chair, and when he turned back to face his girl, he was met with hungry lips catching his own. You poured your love for Luke into the kiss, the ache seeping deep within your bones. Your lips broke apart before moving down his neck, savoring the taste and warmth of your lover. “I love you, Luke,” you breathed out between kisses. “You’re so pretty like this, baby.” He whined out at your touch and your words, his senses overwhelmed by the pure adoration you were pouring out for him.

His fingers dug themselves into the fat of your hips, holding onto you like a lifeline. His eyes screwed shut for a moment as he felt your mouth making its claim on his skin. Within an instant, your lips were back on his in a dizzying frenzy of lust and love. He pulled apart and held your chin, his eyes shifting between your swollen lips and your warm eyes. He pushed your body back down onto the mattress, his hands holding onto your hips so dearly.

He toyed with the button of your shorts, admiring the way the denim curved around your plush thighs. He looked back up at you through his lashes, catching a glimpse of your annoyed face. “Luke…” you had warned, but you both knew who was in control here. He smiled before moving his fingers to unbutton and unzip your shorts, sliding the fabric down your legs. He turned to throw the fabric toward the ever growing pile before eyeing a precious little bow on your panties, noticing how it unintentionally matched your bra.

“What is this, princess? ‘Got a present wrapped up for me?” He fiddled with the bow, grazing his finger right above your core. His hot breath fanned right above your aching pussy, and his hold on your thighs was too intoxicating. “Just for you, my love,” you whispered through shuddered breaths. Luke smirked at the thought of you being his and his only, and the thought only sent his mind into a frenzy.

His fingers grabbed the fabric resting on your hips before pulling down your panties, leaving you entirely vulnerable to his touch. He gently rubbed his thumb above your hip bones, reassuring you once he heard your breath pick up. “It’s okay baby, I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, pressing kisses on the insides of your thighs. He took it upon himself to tease the skin there, leaving soft love bites for you to find in the morning. “I wanna make my girl feel good tonight,” he hummed out before pressing a kiss right above your core. You let out a whine, the desperate desire to feel his mouth on your pussy drove deep into your bones.

Within an instant, his tongue met her cunt, pushing its way inside her folds. The languid movement of his mouth against her left her breathless, his tongue fueling the fire in her belly.

He latched onto the taste of her, desperate to taste all of her. “Oh, fuck, Luke!” You breathed out between pants, the pleasure becoming dizzying. It became messy, but neither of you would complain. Your slick decorated his chin as his mouth moved diligently, trying to consume your nectar entirely. He threw your thighs above his shoulders, pressing your cunt ever closer to his face.

He lapped at you as if you were the only thing worth living for, drinking you up like his only lifeline. Given the proximity, it was no surprise his nose fumbled its way on your clit, but you couldn’t say you weren’t pleasantly surprised with the added feeling. The stimulation had become too much yet not enough all at once. The friction on your clit and in your folds send your mind into a fuzzy haze, drunk off the pleasure your lover was giving you. Your fingers shot straight to Luke’s curls, tugging on the strands. Luke moved his lips to attached onto your clit, and each scratch of his scalp sent him reeling, moaning around your bundled nerves. He shook his head in between your thighs, creating such a delicious feeling, it brimmed tears in your eyes. “Luke, please!” You cried out for more, desperation seeping out your core as Luke’s mouth kept you steady towards your first orgasm of the night.

It only took a few more flicks of his tongue on your clit to have the walls begin crumbling. You closed your legs around his head, locking him entirely on your cunt. His mouth trailed within your folds and his nose returned to rub on your clit. His mouth began writing symphonies in your pussy as your whines got increasingly louder, the sound a hymn to his ears as he knew you were close. He moved one of his hands to play with your eases nipple while the other gripped onto your hip so deeply, it was bound to leave a bruise in its wake.

With a few more strokes of his tongue on your pussy, your breathing had become desperate pants of air as you screwed your eyes shut. “Fuck, Luke, I’m coming,” you panted out. “I’m coming… I’m-“ And in that instant, your walls came crashing down. Your ears began ringing as blood rushed into your head, and you squeezed your thighs around Luke’s head. A throaty moan tumbled out your lips as you held tightly onto Luke’s locks, his tongue continuing its assault on your core. He was no longer doing this solely to please you, but to also satiate the lustrous hunger he had. The stimulation had become too much to bear, and tears began to fall down your pretty cheeks. “Luke, ‘s too much, I can’t,” you mumbled out in your fuzzy state. Your slick kept oozing out of your pussy, and Luke only took it as a challenge to drink you dry. It wasn’t until you tugged his curls, urging him away from your core, that he pulled away;

He moved his head back to catch a breath, eyes capturing the perfect glimpse of you in this new position: head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, back arched, and pussy clenching for something inside. “Good girl, baby. You did so good for me.” As your legs still rested above his shoulders, he took the opportunity to decorate your thighs with more kisses and love bites, filling the skin with more reminders of his love. He trailed his kisses down to your knees before standing up and making his way next to you.

He nuzzled you against him on the mattress, curling you deeply into his chest. You pressed your warm cheek against his chest as you caught your breath, focusing your hearing to his steady heartbeat. “Thank you, baby. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate you taking care of me.” She turned her head up towards her boyfriend, her lips grazing the column of his neck. He tilted his head down to meet her lips, sharing the taste of her on his lips. She moved her hand to hold his chin, but the proximity hadn’t been enough for the two of them (It never was.) She moved one leg to straddle over his lap, pressing her lips roughly against his.

“Already wanting round 2?” Luke pressed between kisses, smirking against her lips.

“Oh, don’t act surprised, Castellan.”

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Lovesick Alastor headcannons? also can it be slight yandere coded, with a AFAB reader? would also like this to be in the 60’s AU, if that’s okay!!

A/n: 60’s? Alastor? Yandere? The killer is literally having all the cards in his favor rn 😨😨 !! But don’t worry bby I like this thought, AND HE’S LOVESICK??? 10/10 delulu thought bc we all know Alastor wouldn’t be like this ( but yk, I feed into my delusions, so today he’s gonna be a lovesick mf thank you 😝 ) Also, HUMAN ALASTOR BECAUSE THE GIRLIES THAT LOVE HIM JUST AS MUCH AS I DO MUST BE FED !!!!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: yandere themes! Unhealthy obsession! NSFW ahead! Reader is headcannoned as AFAB but can be read otherwise! Mentions of race & segregation! Mentions of drinking & smoking!

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝙉𝘼𝙑𝙄𝙂𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *

Songs you can play while listening: We’ll meet Again By Vera Lyn. Lovefool by the Cardigans. Try a Little Tenderness By Otis Redding ( or Frank Sinatra however you see fit ). Come Fly with me by Frank Sinatra. These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding. Are you lonesome tonight by Elvis Presley. Strangers in the night by Frank Sinatra. Cant help falling in love by Elvis Presley.

⋆˚✿˖° 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑭𝑶𝑶𝑳 ⋆˚✿˖°

Lovesick Alastor would include….

A large sum of gifts

dancing to elvis

Have a ton of bouquets your not sure what to do

Having to go out of the city to a smaller town so you two can have some sort of privacy

alastor gets into more ‘white’ bars than people expect and only because of his status, it deeply bothers him

Dancing to frank sinatra >>>

he takes you dancing a lot, like a WHOLE LOT

drive ins a are a must, and it’s always so romantic, even if it’s simple you know? he usually parks away from other people to make it more private

make out sessions in his car at said drive in

he really likes getting milk shakes with you

attends elvis shows with you and you both just stand really close to the divider so when it eventually breaks you two are already so close together

having to sneak around at night so you two don’t get caught with one another

adoring his mother and her cooking

ALASTOR WITH A FANCY CAR >>>>>

alastor kills anyone he sees interact with you while you’re at work, or just anyone he doesn’t like near you in general

kills your neighbor because he saw alastor leaving your house ( you will never know )

Alastor likes helping you pick dresses and do your hair, he also learnt a lot from his mother in this aspect

sewing together >>>

you two often sit by the river together sometimes even late at night

he loves when you run to him scared about the killer in the area, he thinks it’s ironic and funny

would do anything and everything for you

helps fix your house, he’s very handy

secretly envies the younger children with fathers that actually talk to them

[sourpatchys]

what are your opinions on Daryl's dick size

Never in my life did I think I’d have the absolute honor to be asked for dick headcannons, but here we are!!

This honestly kinda threw me for a loop because I’ve never thought about it independently, I’ve just agreed with everyone else lmaooo

So, I hope you still enjoy— even if I’m not adding anything super substantial to the table

NSFW below the cut 18+ MDNI

A/n: please ignore how weird the columns look I have no idea why they did that, I’m on mobile rn so the interface is a little different than I’m used too when posting haha

—

Daryl isn’t a super hairy guy, especially not down below. He’s never bothered to shave though, not before the world went under and definitely not after. If his body is going to grow hair then who is he to say otherwise?? It was bad enough shaving his face when he was a teen, why the hell would be put his genitals through that torture??

Realistically, Daryl’s probably supporting a good 6 inch dick maybe 6.5, with a pretty average girth at around 4.59. He’s not self conscious of his size— he never really understood why anyone would be in the first place. (That didn’t stop him from laughing at the jokes and making a few of his own in his youth through)

He’s definitely circumcised, a religious family from the south made sure of that. He has a couple distinct veins going along the sides, not aggressive looking but they’re definitely visible, and he has a slight indentation on the underside leading a beautiful stripe right up from base to tip

I don’t take Daryl as the Masturbation type, at least not often. You could definitely find soft spots and pleasure spikes that he’s never found on his own before

The head of his dick has a slightly pink hue, perfectly mushroom shaped, and his urethra is one hole (there’s no slot in the middle)

He’s always a mess after cumming, he doesn’t get off much (at least not on his own) so when he finishes he finishes hard. He’s completely pent up.

Obviously with no showers available (and Daryl in general just hating showers for some reason) he can (and usually does) have a smell of some kind, though I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily overpowering. He’d likely wash off a little before letting you anywhere near his crotch though.

He’s a grower— not a shower. Flaccid, his sick isn’t much to write home about, which isn’t something he minds— running around in the hot Georgia sun isn’t exactly fun. Least of all of you have a huge dick swinging between your legs.

He’s got a pretty tight sack— not too big or too small— which could be considered odd for his age, but given his lackluster sexual desires without a partner, they don’t really get much use. (And he’s not complaining)

[ficsandgiggles]

Encouragement (Florence Pugh x Reader)

Hello! Rn I’m struggling to make friends (everyone is so fake) so I was thinking if you could do a fic where florence or Yelena (doesn’t matter) cheers reader up since they feel left out constantly. Thank you reading your fics really makes my day and when they left me out I like to read them to cheer me up :)

A/N: hey anon! I’m sorry this took so long but I really hope it’s worth the wait ❤️

Word count: 978

Warnings: None

You stood there awkwardly as your co-stars were talking and laughing about whatever, you were invited to a birthday party and everyone was talking happily and enjoying themselves, apart from you.

You were almost certain that you were invited just so it wouldn’t look bad on them by not inviting you, you had hoped it was an opportunity for them to get to know you and bring you closer to them. However, as always, you were the one just existing next to them.

Eventually, you moved away from the large group and sat on a chair away from them, sipping your drink and keeping to yourself, when all of a sudden you heard someone next to you.

“You know it’s rude to be on your phone at a party right?”

You jumped and quickly put your phone in your pocket as Florence smiled gently at you, letting you know she was playing around. She was of course invited to the party but you were convinced she wasn’t coming, but she was just late.

Florence was one of the few people you really got along with, more so than everyone else. Unfortunately, though, you didn’t see her that often and despite you putting your all into acting, you just felt miserable whenever you were on set without her.

“Flo!” You said excitedly, jumping up and hugging her. The blonde chuckled and hugged you tightly, even picking you up and swaying you gently. “I didn’t think you were coming!”

She smiled and put you down. “I got the time wrong.” She chuckled. “I’m glad yet surprised you’re here, I thought you didn’t like parties very much.”

You bit your lip, you hadn’t yet been open with how you actually felt on set with the others. You told her that you didn’t like large crowds, which was partially true, but you hated feeling left out more than anything.

“I don’t… I just hoped that people would like me more I guess.” You told her vaguely, stepping back with a sigh.

“Wait… what do you mean?” She asked, putting her hands on your shoulders to show you know you’ve got her full attention.

“I uh… I wish you were always on set, otherwise I don’t exist unless I’m filming.” You admitted quietly, briefly looking over at the group who were still chatting and laughing.

“Oh Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?” Florence asked gently and pulled you into another hug, swaying you gently as you melted into the feeling. Her fingers gently fluttered up and down your back in hopes of relaxing you.

“I didn’t want to be a bother, you’re busy anyway so you wouldn’t have wanted me to be miserable around you.” You replied, earning you a side squeeze which made you squeal in surprise.

“Hey, you would never be a bother to me, I want to make sure you feel wanted and welcomed where you work.” She told you, shuffling to the seat you were sat on earlier and casually sitting down with you on her lap. “I think I need to show the others how cute you are.” She whispered in your ear before shaking her fingers into your ribs as she had her arms wrapped around you.

You yelped in surprise, squealing with giggles as you pulled at her arms. You knew Florence was the type to instigate something like this but you never thought you’d be her victim.

“HEHEHEHEY!” You giggled out, squirming as you tried to free your trapped self, you fell back further into her arms, making her fingers flutter towards your belly now.

“Awww you’re sensitive!” The actress teased, her fingers spidering and skittering all over your belly now. “This would be one way to get everyone to love you!” She teased.

“Nohohoho please…” you replied between giggles, you honestly wouldn’t know how to feel if everyone else knew you were sensitive since you were convinced they didn’t like you anyway. Plus Florence was the only one you trusted enough to do something like this to you.

Florence heard the hesitancy in your voice and nodded. “Alright, I’ll just cheer you up from here then, as you’re still not escaping me.” She smirked and now moved down to squeeze up and down your thighs towards the spot above your knees, causing you to squeal and kick out.

“Not thehehehere!” You whined, trying to pull your arms free to push her hands away, but you were still trapped, your anxiety slowly being freed the more you were giggling.

“But this is such a giggly spot!” She teased, focusing on the dreaded spot above your knees, grinning as you broke into giggly laughter, shaking your head helplessly.

“I don’t cahahahare just mohohohove!” You shrieked out, accidentally kicking her shin as you thrashed.

“Hey, rude!” She gasped and blew a raspberry on your neck before moving her hands so you were technically free but she dug her fingers under your arms instead, making you squeal and slam your arms against your sides.

“You’re silly, you’ve just trapped me now!” She grinned and kept digging in, smiling as you kept cackling with laughter before managing to roll off her lap.

“Oops, are you ok?” She asked and offered you a hand up, which you took and stood up, nodding.

“That was… freeing, thank you.” You smiled and hugged her tightly, which she quickly returned fondly.

“How are you feeling? Would you be willing to come with me towards the group?” She asked you gently and offered you her hand.

You bit your lip, nodding hesitantly and taking her hand so you could go towards the group.

You were surprised when they welcomed you with open arms, they felt awful that they had pushed you out, but it turned out that you fitted right in, you just needed some gentle encouragement from the co-star you looked up to.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Kingdom of the Stars Chapter 37: The Aftershock

(The title honestly describes my reaction to some of the reading speeds you guys have....oh my goodness....I'm literally crying like my pfp rn)

Previous: Chapter 36

Next: Chapter 38

Time seemed to come to a slow after that as the two sat in silence as the brief rumbling of thunder was heard.

“I won’t,” his promise rang in her ears as the sobs softened. “I won’t.”

Had he meant it? She wished she knew, but she was too afraid to ask, too afraid that at any moment he’d snap at her like the other figures had. Her mind warred with her body that had given in to the small warmth and comfort his touch had provided. 

“Don’t get used to it,” Abigail’s voice echoed, as she and the other noble girls appeared. “A promise like that means nothing when he never had a choice to begin with.”

What?

“It’s not that he won’t leave you, ” she explained and rolled her eyes before leaning forward. “It’s that he can’t. He needs your wish to leave, remember? So if it weren’t for that I’d doubt he’d bother sticking around…I mean why would he? Sure he may need you, but he certainly doesn’t want you. Not when he could have better.” She smiled, gesturing to herself and her friends.

“Face it, Asha,” Moireach shrugged, “the only reason why you never wanted him going to Amala’s house is because you knew that as soon as he put two and two together, he wouldn’t even give you a second chance. Not when he figured out the truth.”

The truth? But…

“There’s nothing special about you,” came Mrs. Chidera’s gentle voice as Asha cringed. “In a kingdom filled to the brim with dreams, wishes, and impossibilities you somehow managed to remain the most unremarkable thing anyone could ever come across…and then you still dare to call the rest of us complacent. Well, complacent as we may be, at least our fathers never thought us to be so worthless that we shouldn’t part take in their legacy!”

“Be honest Asha, your father’s legacy…” the queen hesitated as if trying to gather her thoughts before sighing, “ It was never about helping any of us, was it? No, it was just about trying to make sense of your insignificant existence, another one of your pitiful attempts to fit in, right? Because you know that at the end of the day when all is said and done, you’ll be the last person who anyone ever cares to remember. Just like your ancestor Geron. I’m sure he’d be very proud of you~,”

She whimpered, covering her ears as her body trembled. “Please, your highness” she begged. “Just leave me alone!”

“Asha?” Cepheus quietly began as 

his grip on her shoulder slightly tensed.  “Asha, what’s wrong? Should I-”

“Don’t…don’t touch me,” she hissed, glowering at him as he stared back in shock.

“Oh…alright then…I’m sorry,” he murmured, quietly turning away.

She couldn’t explain why she’d felt so hurt at his simple compliance. She had been the one who demanded that he stop touching her, but seeing the ease with which he’d so quickly removed himself and turned away had her eyes pooling with tears once more.

“Foolish child,” the king’s voice called. “ Did you really expect otherwise from him? The creature has shown time and time that his affection is selective, only ever showing itself towards you when you are alone. Surely you haven’t forgotten how quick he was to yank his hand away from you when your mother had come into the kitchen. The same hand, need I remind you he used proudly to hold that Amala girl in his lap for all to see, and yet he couldn’t be bothered to let one person see you two holding hands.”

She warily eyed the star, who was needlessly flipping through the pages of her storybook. “Let’s not also forget how displeased he was hearing about how you look at him, yet once again such displeasure was never apparent when those other noble girls teased Amala and him…hmm, I wonder why there was such a difference in response from him… Shall we take a guess?”

“No,” her voice trembled, horror filling her as she watched him settle on a page in particular.

“Don’t you get it?” Velius impatiently sneered. “This thing he’s doing for you, it’s nothing more than pity. Just like when the king made you his apprentice and the prince, his friend, and he too will leave you just as they did.”

“I-,”

“Don’t bother defending him.  don’t you remember when the queen’s favorite lady-in-waiting died?” She did. The queen held herself together well but the king had never failed to be there for her when it had truly mattered both publicly and privately. The silent yet gentle gazes and the hand touches haunted her. She knew that if the king could, he would've given every wish he had to take just an ounce of his wife’s pain away. 

“Do you ever think he could come close to showing such affection towards someone so undeserving? Do you ever think he could stay by your side like how the prince had when Dahlia’s grandmother passed? Ha!” the king’s laughter rang in her ears as she shivered. “You thought you’d been her best friend, but who was the person she’d gone to when it had happened? Do you think you of all people ever once crossed her mind?”

The king’s voice grew sympathetic as he shook his head, “And that was someone who’d known you for at least six years, how exactly do you think someone who’s only known you for a few days is supposed to act?”

Maybe she’d been expecting too much of Dahlia. Just as she’d been doing with the star…

She couldn’t see what he was reading, but judging from his expression, she doubted it could’ve been anything good as he glanced towards the door and stood up. She’d nearly been half tempted to ask what he was doing before she watched him take one step after another.

He was leaving.

So soon? But…he didn’t even say goodbye! She swallowed a scream as she fought every ounce within her being to not chase after him, and plead with him to stay.

“Don’t bother,” Velius threatened as the star paused at her door frame and carefully reached out into the hallway for something. “He’s finally making a sane decision for once in his life.”

She knew that, but that hadn’t given her a reason as to why it had hurt her so deeply.

“Why? Well, that’s rather simple my apprentice,” the king’s voice loomed from behind her. “It was inevitable. Just as you are so pitifully powerless to stop him or anyone else from leaving.”

Asha shivered. The king was right. But that hadn’t made it feel less painful or tragically hilarious. Just a few days ago she would’ve given anything to get him to leave her life as abruptly as he’d entered it, and yet now she would’ve given anything to get him to stay. 

But perhaps it was better this way. After all, there wasn’t much she could give a creature of his stature, maybe he-

“Here,” he spoke, holding a plate full of deliciously steaming food forward. The food's scents were tantalizing, and he smiled rather sheepishly, “I think it’ll make you feel better…”

She hesitantly looked from him to the food, and back to him. 

There it was, deep within his eyes as he’d looked at her. Pity. So much pity. He’d probably seen her as nothing more than what the king would’ve described as a petulant child throwing a massive tantrum, and maybe he was right. Maybe they both were.

“I didn’t cook it if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She cast him a withering glare, immediately shutting him up as she snatched the plate from his hands before marching towards her window. Without any hesitation she’d pried the window open, only to be somewhat surprised by the face of shocked crows perched on the nearby tree branches who’d looked more like caught children than simple birds.

She hadn’t known they were still lingering, nor could she bring herself to care as she’d placed the plate on her window sill before commanding, “Eat.”

Unsurprisingly they hadn’t needed to be told twice as they’d gluttounously devoured the food as she’d stepped away from the window.

If the star had been upset, he’d done a wonderful job of hiding it as he’d merely stared at the window sill in shock.

“What are you doing?” he called after her as she’d picked up her fallen satchel before fishing out the manuscripts and her father’s journal.

“Something I should’ve been doing a long time ago,” she gruffly answered as she seated herself at her desk, roughly shoving all of her useless astronomy papers and star charts to the side.

 How had she let him convince her to take a vacation? No wonder she was unraveling- she’d taken her eyes off the prize, a prize she now knew she no longer deserved or was ever meant to be a part of.

She’d been such a fool, letting herself get so excited over a past world where both man and the supernatural could co-exist. A world that she realized would by all means, she’d never have been a part of. If the stars and astronomer’s influence had been so widespread then who was to say that she wouldn’t face the same rejection in any other country she moved to? 

Maybe this was why her father hadn’t wanted her to be a part of his legacy… Not only was she a figure no one would be able to believe in, but she just wasn’t a person who could handle rejection…

“Are…are you working?” 

She didn’t answer, watching instead as with each and every letter she’d transcribed her handwriting had nearly become intelligible.

“Asha I don’t think-,”

“Not now Cepheus,” she hissed, dropping her quill as she quietly cursed at her shaking hand. Why couldn’t she stop shaking? She wondered as she stared at her fingers covered in light ink smudges.

“If I wanted your opinion then I’d ask for it…”

“Why are you being so mean to the prince?” came a small voice as her eyes snapped to the child standing beside her. Familiar brown eyes met hers as the child dressed in familiar nightwear stared curiously back. 

“He’s not a prince,” she mumbled back, reaching for the spare napkin that sat on her desk. 

“He’s not?” the child asked curiously, tilting her small head as her braids moved with her. 

“Of course not. Not every pretty boy you see is a prince, and if he were a prince then he’s definitely not my prince. Princes are supposed to fall first, not the other way around!” she sneered. She’d read enough storybooks to know.

“But…you named him Cepheus…”

“So? I only named him because he absolutely refuses to give me his name! He doesn't care about me! He never has and he never will! Life isn’t a bunch of fairy tales where dreams magically come true! So why don’t you get your head out of the clouds for once and start living in the real world?!”

“You’re wrong!” She cried, her voice raising with every syllable as she passionately stomped. “Dreams do come true!”

“Then why did ours never come true?”

The child looked taken aback, blinking briefly before asking, “They…they didn’t come true?”

Asha drew in a tight breath, promptly facing the wall ahead of her as she replied, “No…”

“Why? Did I do something wrong?” she could hear the child shuffle next to her. Her mind raced in tandem with hers as she tried to make sense of the revelation. “I just…thought that because Uncle Magnifi-

Asha scowled. Her grip mercilessly tightened on the quill in her hand as she grounded out “Don’t call him that.”

“What? Why not?!”

“Because he’s not your friend!” She snapped to the stunned child. “No one is your friend!”

“That’s not true! Papa is my friend! And Mama! And Saba and Dahlia and, and-,” her voice trailed off as her eyes lowered to her feet, unevenly rocking as Asha angrily sighed, turning back to the desk as her elbow roughly banged against it, causing her ink bottle to rock before tilting and spilling.

“No!” She screamed, scrambling to rescue her papers from the spreading ink. Horror filled her as she took in the sight of Vitrius’s manuscripts partially covered in ink. 

She ruined it.

Just like she had ruined everything else.

No wonder the prince couldn’t trust her! She was useless! Completely and utterly useless! 

“I-,” her thoughts paused as she glanced towards the now frightened child, frozen in place as she helplessly stared at the ruined manuscript. 

“Shouldn’t you be off somewhere being a complete and total embarrassment to your family name?! Get out of here!” She screamed as the child flinched.

“I…I’m sorry,” she sniffled, tears freely flowing from her eyes. Her face crumbled as she began to weep. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as the words cut through Asha’s heart like a knife. 

“Asha?” Cepheus’s voice returned. He was still here?! Somewhere through the strange haze of her mind, she could faintly register his movements as he’d taken the ruined manuscripts from her. 

It was hard to focus on what he was doing as she bent over, and gasped. Slowly, taking in one deep breath after another as she rested her hand over her heart.

“There we go!” He said after a while as he rested a perfectly restored manuscript on the desk. “All better! See?”

She sniffled, briskly wiping her eyes as she weakly stared at the now pristine desktop. By every account what the star had done was undoubtedly a near miracle.

But for her, she knew that it was just one more sign of how truly helpless she was without him.

“Asha?”

Of course, she needed him to clean up her messes. 

“Asha, please say something,” he whispered. 

He must’ve been tired of having to deal with someone so…so worthless!

 Her eyes focused on the growing tear stains of her skirts as she heard the words slip from her own lips, “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, over and over as the tears nearly blinded her. Her body shook as she began to cry. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”

“Asha!” He exclaimed catching her as she nearly crumpled from her chair and onto the floor. “What's wrong?!”

“Everything!” she cried, clutching at his shoulders. “Make it stop! I beg of you!”

“It?”

“The voices? The tears! The pain! It won’t stop! I can’t take it anymore!” she screamed. “Please I…I’m falling to pieces no matter how much I try! I’m unraveling,” she gasped, her eyes squeezing shut before the idea hit her. 

The perfect solution to all of her problems.

 “Please,” she started. “….Just wipe me from existence! I don’t want to do this anymore!”

“What?” She hadn’t understood why he’d look so mortified at her words.

It was perfect.

“Yes,” she smiled. “If you make it like I never existed, then no one will ever remember me! And like you said they can’t miss what they never had, right? Without me, my family never has to be ashamed, exhausted, or disappointed! They’d be able to live the lives they always wanted and I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore! It’s perfect!”

“No.”

“No?” she repeated, releasing him as her smile faltered. “What do you mean by no?!”

“I mean that I’m not going to erase your existence like that.”

“Why not?!” She challenged as she rose to her feet. Her body wobbled ever so slightly before she held onto the bed to steady herself. “Is it because you can’t or you won’t?”

“I won’t,” he sharply corrected. “Not as your wishing star, and especially not as your friend.” 

She glared at him. Her chest heaved as anger and disgust filled her. And for a moment she hated him, almost as much as she hated herself before she’d felt her strength leave her once more.

“I knew it,” she sobbed and turned away. Her body slipped back onto the bed as she pulled a pillow towards herself. “I knew you never wanted to help me, and that you were just using me for your own ends, just like the king and prince was. It was only a matter of time before you figured out the truth…so you might as well do what everyone else has.”

“What everyone else has?”

“Just admit it Cepheus,” she sobbed into her pillow. “I  won’t hold it against you.”

“Admit what?” He asked as he took a seat on the bed next to her.

“That I’m useless and that you won’t stay around much longer and that tonight when you go and see Amala…I’ll…I’ll never see you again.” She cried, trying to ignore the pain that tore at her heart. 

“Why would I never see you again?” He asked.

“Why would you want to?”

“After everything we’ve been through together today, you don’t think I’d have a reason to want to see you again? Asha, we're friends. I could know all the humans in the world, but I promise you that there’s no other person on this planet I’d rather be around than you.”

Liar . She kept on forgetting that he couldn’t leave her. So for the time being they were effectively stuck together, which would make it all the worse when they would inevitably part ways.

“Why would you?” She grumbled. “I know you won’t miss me when you go…”

“Why do you think I wouldn’t miss you?”

“Look around Cepheus. I’ve lived in this kingdom all my life, and yet I know that if I ever leave Rosas, no one will miss me when I’m gone. Not the king, not the other apprentices or royals or nobles…and those are people I’ve worked for, for five years. Five years Cepheus! And it meant…nothing!” She confessed as her grip on the pillow tightened. “Why would I expect anything different from you when you’ve only known me for a few days?” she sniffled. “You’re already ashamed of me anyway.”

“Ashamed of you? Asha, I’m not ashamed-,”

“Oh yeah?!” She snapped as she immediately sat up. “Then why were you so quick to pull my hand back when my mom walked into the kitchen?! Or how about the expression you made when Saba talked about the way I look at you?! Other noble girls tease about falling in love with you and you’re nothing but perfectly polite with them but whenever it comes to me you abhor the idea of seeing me as…as…as anything more than just amusing!”

“I don’t see you as just amusing-,”

“Well you’ve got a funny way of showing it,” she huffed. “But go on and tell me that I’m wrong ... .I've heard it all before..”

“I’m not going to lie to you or deny how you feel,” he took a deep breath. “I understand that you have a lot on your plate both mentally and emotionally now. I admit that I’m not exactly the best…listener or talker when it comes to things like this…so You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I want you to be honest with me, please.”

“Honest?” She repeated, anger now taking the place of sadness. “Honest?! Why should I be honest with you?! You do nothing but hide things from me, Cepheus! I don’t even know your real name!” She sneered. 

Regret and fear filled her as the words left her and she trembled. “I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She looked away, as the tears began to gather once more. “if you want to leave now, I won’t hold it against you.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Leave now? Why do you keep saying I'm going to leave you?” 

“Because the prince…the king…and you. You’re all the same! You all just keep me around because you need to, but when it comes to the wants or just anything else, it’s like I can no longer serve any purpose to any of you. So you just toss me aside again and again for the next best thing…I can see it in the way you look at those Ischanian girls…it’s just like how the prince looks at Dahlia…” she sobbed.  “How can I ever compete with that?”

He looked stunned, “Compete? Sure the Ischanian girls are nice, but why would I do that to you? Asha, we’re friends-,”

“I thought I was the other apprentices’ friend,” she answered briskly. “But as soon as the prince was gone they realized that without powers I wasn’t worth keeping around. Heck, I even dared to think that I was the prince’s happily ever, his friend, and look at how that ended! He chose Dahlia over me just because I’m not as pretty nor as good of a cook as she is. But it doesn’t even stop there! He can’t even trust me when everything depends on it!” She shouted. “The other apprentices couldn’t tolerate me enough even if their life depended on it and the prince…” she sniffled, feeling the tears fall. 

“I missed him. I missed him just as much as anyone in that castle did and not once could he think of me when he was gone. He brought everyone else back something but me. He…he treats me like I’m a traitor, Cepheus!” She wailed. “I don’t know what I did wrong! I tried to fix it! I want to fix it! But it’s not working!”

“What isn’t working?”

“Everything!” She cried, staring at her hands as tears blurred her vision once more. “All this time I’ve been trying to tell myself that people who were like you and the king with powers were the problem and that it was the reason why I couldn’t convince anyone to believe in me, and the reason why my father and my Abuela died when I should’ve realized that the problem here…had been me all along.”

“You?”

“Yes! Don't you get it?! Everyone respected my father. They listened to him and liked his ideas all the way up until it was discovered I’d been born without potential. Then everything changed.” She slumped forward, trying not to remember the looks of pity and sympathy the people had given her and her father the day they’d all found out.

Before then, she could always remember hearing their murmurs of excitement at the potential that she could have carried, and how by her father’s and king’s side, she too would’ve been able to bring Rosas to such greatness. But that greatness would never come the day they’d all found out the truth.

She brushed a few stray tears away. “I could tell even though they tried to hide how their interest waned behind their gazes full of pity…” she took another shaky breath as she hung her head, whispering. “I was never worthy enough to follow in my father’s footsteps, not when I was the reason why people lost interest in it in the first place… I ruin everything I touch! My abuela’s music box, my mother and saba’s life, my own life, the wishing tree, the forest animals and it’s only a matter of time before I’ll ruin you too!”

“If I’d been born with magical powers…my father would still be here. My grandmother would still be here. My father's dreams would become a reality and I would actually matter to people. My family would matter…Maybe I’d have more friends too, so I wouldn’t have to always tell my family that it was fine when it wasn’t. Maybe I’d be able to give them the wealth they deserved so they’d never have to work long shifts to make ends meet from time to time. Maybe my family could understand me and they’d be proud of me just like my abuela and papa was…”

“But it seems like no matter what I do, I’m destined to disappoint everyone around me…and how couldn’t I?…all I can do is ruin and waste…and it feels like the world hates me for it.”

“It’s like they think I wanted to be born this way when the truth is, I’d do anything to change myself if I could!” she cried, her fingernails dug into her forearm’s flesh.

“I wouldn’t bother with that if I were you,” Cepheus warned. “Your life is too short to spend it on changing yourself for people you’ll never be able to please.”

She scoffed, further burying her head into her pillow before replying, “Easy for you to say.  You’re out there being sought after for balls and princesses. What would you know about being disliked?”

He’d chuckled, not seeming the least bit offended by her words as he’d answered, “Far more than you’d think, that’s for sure. But I do know that when situations are dire for me it’s best to focus on the things you can control rather than can’t.”

“control? Cepheus I’m a peasant who was solely employed by the royal family because of the king’s friendship with my dad who wanted me to have absolutely no part in his legacy whatsoever! What sort of control do you think I actually have?! I can’t control anything not when the king and prince treat me like…like this! I don’t know why they do it either! Well, I sorta do but-,”

He frowned. “Oh and why is that?”

“Because I’m an embarrassment Cepheus,” she whispered as her grip on her pillow further tightened. “Anyone would be ashamed to have me as an apprentice or friend in comparison to everyone else!”

He shook his head, “No, I’m sorry…They don’t treat you like an insecurity. They treat you like a threat.”

“A threat? Ha! You’re talking about two powerful individuals who are destined to rule by the divinely chosen blood in their veins…How could I, of all people possibly be a threat to that?”

“Well, you imply that there are alternatives to total dependency on the king. An implication that if it reached the right audience could be far more impactful than you’d realize.”

“You think so?”

He nodded, “I know so. Then there is the prince, the mistrust he displays is probably a side effect of the court politics between him and the king.”

“But wouldn’t that also impact the other apprentices? The king works very closely with them.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” The star thoughtfully nodded. “But similarities in magical abilities aside, like you said they're nobles. They’re in a better position to leverage themselves out of trouble than you are.”

She sniffled, brushing away a few tears. “I hadn’t thought of that. But I don’t think I’ve been thinking very well at all, lately,” she confessed. “Nothing makes sense to me anymore.” She sniffled, silently drawing in one breath after another before she asked, “Will you miss me Cepheus? When you’ve gone back home in the sky?”

“Miss you? Asha-,” his voice trailed off. “Of course, I would miss you.”

“You shouldn’t,” she angrily sniffed. “ In a world like this, I’m the most unremarkable person anyone could come across…there’s nothing special about me, I have no significant lineage nor heritage, no powers to master nor purpose to serve.”

“You’d really call yourself unremarkable?” He laughed. “After you choked me out today? And tried to judo flip me the day before?”

“Compared to someone like you and the things you can do? I’m nothing . I do nothing.”

“Asha you can’t compare yourself to someone like me. We’re two completely different beings. That’s not a fair comparison!” He frowned before placing his hand over his chest. “Look, take it from someone like me, having powers isn’t always the best thing in the world. At least not in my world. I can’t deny that it does make certain things a bit…easier but it has its disadvantages as well.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Asha sniffled as she buried her head into her pillow again. “People will like and appreciate you more for what you’ve done in a few days with your power than I ever did in my lifetime. The king barely hangs up any apprentice portraits of me in the hallway and when he does it’s always in the most obscure places. Rosas’s best royal playmaker who lives and breathes everything royal didn’t even know I existed. The officials walk all over me because they know they don’t get punished for it! And until now I’ve never been invited to the royal fair like all of the other apprentices!… I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong. You’ve taught me that humans can be cruel, self-serving, and defiant!”

She cast him an incredulous glare, “And that’s supposed to be a good thing because?”

“Because before I thought humans were basic creatures incapable of displaying more than 3 emotions at a time. But you shattered that. You taught me that humans were complex, capable of change, and altruism.”

“Altruism?” she sighed, slumping over her pillow. “What exactly about me is altruistic?”

“Well, when you noticed that Julian was running rampant, you risked your own life to save everyone there.”

“Everyone who was in danger because of the star I’d brought there in the first place, yes,” she crossly remarked. “How courteous of me to do the basic minimum of cleaning up a mess that I was the cause of in the first place!”

The star winced, “Alright, but how about the townspeople who were disheartened by the market disaster? You were able to rally them behind a common cause. You gave Lady Allard credit when you knew she didn’t deserve it!”

“To cover my own tracks,” Asha grumbled. “Plus I needed to get time off for my Saba’s birthday, remember? So it wasn’t exactly out of the goodness of my own heart.”

“Okay fair point but you can’t disagree with the fact that Delphine is a noblewoman, who prior to this all seemed to have garnered a reputation for being disliked amongst her community. But now she’s trying to do better because you helped show her just how talented and caring your community was! If this hierarchy of yours is worth its salt, then I’m quite willing to bet that not many who share the same class as you can say they’ve done something similar. And then you granted Miss Nora’s wish for her son to have friends. You had no real reason nor gain to do so, but you did it anyway if only to save someone the pain you’d endured. And then you want me to heal Amala’s grandmother because you know what it’s like to feel that grief! You may not think of yourself as being altruistic, but you have to admit that at least your heart was in the right place for those two situations!”

She sighed “I do see your point. But I don’t think I’m as kind or as strong as you’re making me sound. If I were truly altruistic then I wouldn’t be crying over being forgotten or people not appreciating me. If I were even the tiniest bit strong then I wouldn’t be falling to pieces because people didn’t like me… or that my own father of all people didn’t think I was strong or deserving enough…if I were truly strong then I’d be doing everything in my power to prove him wrong, but…I’m just so tired of it all Cepheus“ she sighed. “I know you’ll disagree with me, and say that it’s only human or natural to want or expect some decency and respect from others, but how can I when I don’t even think I’m…a good person?”

“Why do you say that?”

“a good person wouldn’t be falling to pieces over this…if I were good then….I wouldn’t want things I know I shouldn’t have.”

“Things you shouldn’t have?”

She bit her lip, embarrassment nearly overwhelming her as she realized the hidden implication behind her words. What was she thinking admitting that to Cepheus of all people? 

The silence was only brief as she watched the star nod rather understandingly, “I see.”

“See what?!” she snapped. “You see nothing!”

“So you think,” he’d replied with very little resistance as he’d stood once more and opened her windows. “Come,” he told her.

“What?” she asked, glancing from him to the open window. Where to?”

“Anywhere I suppose. I may not be able to make you disappear, but I can give you a distraction.”

“A distraction?” she repeated.

“Just a way to give you some temporary peace of mind, if you will. So how about we pick up from where we left off earlier? Before the assassins, the mobs, and everything,” he sighed, his hand resting on the windowsill as if he were trying to remind himself of those times as well. It was hard to believe how drastically her life had changed in just the span of a few days, she thought as the star smiled. “The night is still young you know, and she’s always kind to those who have a lot on their mind. So,” he took a deep breath and held his hand forward, “Would you give me the honor of accompanying you tonight?”

If she’d had any strength or sense left she probably would’ve argued with him. After all, the whole reason why she’d gotten into this mess had been because she’d been wandering the night and ending up in a place where she shouldn’t have been. But alas, she was tired and with her mind frazzled and unraveling she could do little more than to hesitantly take his hand once more.

Shame and relief filled her as she felt him gently pull her into his arms. 

There was something different about the way he held her tonight.

Maybe it had been in His warmth that so graciously greeted her as she felt him hold her in a way that would’ve reminded her of how someone would hold something fragile and delicate.

She sighed, closing her eyes as she felt them slowly ascend into the cloudy night sky above.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You did what?!” the king’s voice rang through the secret corridor. The figures winced, stepping back as green energy snaked across the floor and past them into the surrounding darkness. 

Drawing their breaths, several cast their gaze towards the ground, before promptly catching sight of the various pieces of stone hands, feet, fingers, and body parts that littered the room.

“You-,” he pointed a nearly clawed finger towards them. His viridescent eyes cut through the darkness and narrowed as his voice lowered to a whisper. “Had one simple little job.”

He took one slow step forward then another. “Apprehend the girl.”

They took a step back. “Alter her memories,” he whispered as the torch’s flame flickered and lowered as he neared, nearly appearing more shadow than man. “Wipe them clean if you had to!” 

His staff eerily glowed a sickly green as the torch’s flames abruptly flickered back to life, illuminating the figures trapped by the wall behind them.  

“It was so simple!” he seethed as the corridor’s floor trembled. 

“She has no powers. No rank or significance to speak of and yet none of you could even get it right!” he yelled, slamming the floor with the end of his staff as his powers coiled and slithered through the ground once more. Several pieces of statues and stone broke as the king’s power dissipated, leaving the air with a sickly warmth as the figures helplessly looked on.

“Please your Highness-,” a figure started, as the others crouched behind him. “H-h-have mercy!”

The king’s grip on his staff tightened as he tensed. His brows furrowed with thought as he stared at the statue shards on the ground, and then at the headmistress seemingly lost in thought.

Silence greeted them all once more as he walked away. His footsteps echoed through the room as he took a deep breath and leaned against the desk neatly placed near the room’s cauldron.

He took one deep breath, then another as he muttered something before shaking his head. “Idiots. What am I even paying you for?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” he snapped, turning to the only person in the room who could bravely say such a thing to him.

The headmistress shrugged, unfastening the belt around her waist before she carefully placed a small glowing vial on the table. “You’re not paying any of them anything, remember? They don’t even have dental.”

The king huffed. “Well, maybe they would if they were more competent! Dental is not cheap!”

“Bold of you to assume that healthcare should reasonably be tied to meritocracy,” the headmistress muttered under her breath as he rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Does it matter? After everything I’ve been through today with the nobles and the prince whining…don’t get me started on the prince” he warned the headmistress before throwing his hands up and looking back at the hooded figures. “…ugh…Someone, anyone..give me a silver lining!”

“I think we can do better than that,” the headmistress spoke with a content sigh as the cauldron gently began to bubble. “We found it,” she grinned as she gently moved her fingers across the cauldron's surface as its smoke contorted into the shape of a tree. “The wishing tree .”

“You did?” the king asked his eyes glued to the cloud tree that promptly shriveled.

She nodded, “Of course I did. And it was right where we thought it would be. There was a noticeably admirable effort to keep it hidden.” she spoke, as a small cloud arose from the cauldron, taking the form of an all-too-familiar elderly man as the king scowled. “Admirable,” she continued, dispersing the form with a dismissive flick of the hand. “ but not sufficient.”

“Of course,” the king glowered as the cauldron changed from a soft purple to a vivid jade.

“But that’s not all… she shook her head as she withdrew a small map from her robes. “while we were there we stumbled across animals…talking animals.”

“Talking animals?!” the king spat as his face twisted with disgust. “Seriously?”

“Yes seriously…I know…it sounds ridiculous but it’s no doubt a sign of his presence-,” the headmistress warily murmured as her finger lingered over the spot on the map where they had found the tree. “Sabino must’ve shown him the tree.”

“Tree! Shmee! Imagine having the power to alter the very fabric of reality and you just…you just make animals talk! Animals! Who does that?!” he cried, facing the figures who’d promptly shrugged. 

“Your apprentice, Dario would,” the headmistress interjected.

“Fair point,” the king conceded with an annoyed nod. “He would do something that pointless…” he shook his head before pointing his still glowing staff towards them again. “But if he knows where the tree is then there’s a good chance he’s already restored it….which unfortunately brings you all back to square one.”

A cool silence filled the air as the figures tensed. The sounds of their heartbeats thundered in their ears as all watched the king aimlessly toy with his staff before looking them over thoughtfully. 

“Why the silence?” he asked, as his face twisted with what most would’ve called concern. “You know hypothetically, if the girl were to die, then her family would undoubtedly notice…. Which unfortunately will mean nothing but endless questions…she’s already had the gall to ask me about what she witnessed in the wish garden a few nights ago,” he glowered as the headmistress’s grip on her vial tightened. “Lord knows that it’s only a matter of time before she asks about this too, seeing as you all were kind enough to incompetently leave her alive with her memories intact after the confrontation.”

Tentatively he paced around the room, quietly watching them from the corner of his eyes as the reality of their situation quickly set in.

“Hmm if either court were to find out about you, I doubt it would end well for you” he called, as the figures tensed. “But thankfully that’s why you have me, right?” he paused, looking them over as they promptly nodded in return. “As your king, I will never be afraid to defend and protect you! Even when the work you’ve left me to do is nothing short of difficult! So….it’s only fair that you all at least find one modicum of success while on the field, right?” he asked, sharply pivoting as the tip of his staff pressed against the chest of one of the hooded figures. “ I’m not asking for much, am I?”

The king smiled, listening to the sounds of uneven breaths that filled his ears as the figure did everything in his power to not writhe at the power of the glowing staff. “Hmm?”

“N-no Your Highness,” the figure grounded out as the king stared, watching his body twitch in agony. “N-never.”

“I’m glad you think that,” Magnifico hummed, promptly withdrawing his staff as the man collapsed. “And I take it the rest of you agree, right?” he called to the crowd as they promptly nodded, watching as his silhouette briefly retreated before turning to face them.

“So surely one of you has some semblance of good news, right?” he asked as he rested his foot on the piece of a statue’s face.“Maybe one of you’ve gotten closer to finding it, right? Right?”

As expected, the silence was the only reply he received as the figures’ gaze slowly lingered on the remains of the statue’s face.

“Oh…” A sympathetic sigh escaped him as he looked the still silent crowd over as the statue’s piece began to groan and creak beneath his foot. 

“IF there's anything any of you would like to tell me…then speak now…or forever…hold your peace,” he whispered as the sounds of the stone shattering beneath his foot filled the room. 

None of them had to speak, not when their eyes pointedly landed on three figures in particular.

Neither of the three-spoke as the king smiled, looking them over as he neared, briskly stepping over the dark remnants of the shattered stone face. “Well?”

“I-I-,” Castor softly whispered before shooting Cladestonia a desperate glance. As expected neither Clandestonia nor Vraden flinched as a strange silence filled the air, and Castor tensed, his eyes briefly lingering on his comrade who still lay on the floor.

“This might not be what you’d qualify as good news,” came the headmistress’s voice, promptly drawing the king away from the three hooded figures before him. “But we confronted the star today.”

“You confronted him?!” the king snapped, as he spun towards her. “Did you engage in battle?”

“Yes,” she nodded and poured her vial’s contents into the cauldron. “And as expected there were some…casualties.”

“Casualties?” he frowned as he stepped back and looked the group over. “Come to think of it there were more of you…weren’t.” his eyes sharply turned back to Castor. “Where is your friend?”

“F-friend?” Castor replied, trying not to shift uncomfortably.

“Yes! You know the big one! Seven feet tall, dangerous, and scarred…would kill on sight! He murdered a few guys last week! Remember?” the king asked as Castor grimaced before hesitantly nodding. “What was his name again?”

“I-,” Castor paused, glancing to his comrades who stared back at him helplessly. 

“No don’t tell me, Casper” The king tapped his chin thoughtfully. “It was…Ennecko! You all remember! Good old Ennecko!”

“His name was Inigo,” the headmistress called from behind him in a tongue that no onlooker could decipher.

“Inigo?” the king repeated as his face twisted in distaste. “What type of name is Inigo? See you can complain and call me a lot of things, but at least I had the decency to give my child a good name. Inigo…that’s almost as bad as Dario, Dahlia, and Sirius.” He shuddered, “Ugh…Don’t get me started on that one.”

“Sir,” the headmistress interjected. “Inigo wasn’t the only one lost. Six others perished in the exchange as well.”

“Six more?” he repeated as his brows furrowed. “So you mean to tell me that seven new bodies are currently located on the bottom of one of the rivers? Seven???”

“More or less,” the headmistress shrugged. 

“Of course,” he sighed. Flicking his cape, he neared her and promptly asked in the olden tongue.  “You don’t suppose it’s going to take long for them to decompose?”

“Not more so than usual. No. But either way I doubt their bodies will be any more indistinguishable than from what’s already down there,” the headmistress replied as he smiled, watching as the figures helplessly exchanged glances over the conversation they’d never be able to comprehend. 

“But seven casualties…“It’s a pity he couldn’t have made it ten…” he murmured, as eyes landed on the silent trio before quickly speaking in Rosarian as he looked around the room.  “I suppose you all need time off to go lick your wounds and whatnot, don’t you?” he sighed taking in the silence before he sat down. “Very well then….You are dismissed.”

The figures said nothing, but the king could see from how the tension left their shoulders that they were shocked that they were still breathing. But they knew better than to ask, as they offered one final bow before swiftly departing in the shadows.

“Hold on a minute!” the king called, as the figures tensed. “I still need to talk to you three-,” he gestured to the trio. “Yes, you. The rest of you can go.”

He hadn’t needed to say it twice as the remaining figures cast the trio a sympathetic glance before quickly collecting their still-unconscious comrade and departing. 

“How have you three been?” the king asked, with a brilliant smile as he promptly broke the trio’s attention away from their fleeing colleagues, before taking a seat. “I feel as if it’s been a while since we’ve last had a chance to chat like this, hmm?”

The three nodded. Castor’s gaze briefly rested on the headmistress who’d seemed perfectly content on ignoring the conversation in favor of the still bubbling cauldron before her.

“How goes the search?”

“Not well your Highness…” Castor carefully added, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “We lost contact with the last squad we’d sent out there.”

“So that’s what? Four more casualties in addition to the seven that have happened today? So eleven of you have died. Eleven.” the king’s smile disintegrated as he stared at them. “You know…Training those spies wasn’t easy nor was it cheap.”

Cladestonia nodded, bowing her head as she placed her hand over her heart in an act of penance. “I know your highness, and I will take full responsibility for it in any way you see fit.”

Castor could barely swallow his horror as both he and Vraden exchanged glances. 

“How admirable of you, Estonia,” the king pleasantly smiled before waving his hand. “But you needn’t do that. For you see, after all these years of searching and studying her, I know better than anyone just how stubborn that forest is…She always does everything in her power to ensure we never get close. No matter how many bodies you throw at her or paths you create, as long as there is still life in her roots…she’ll never give up The Heart…but unfortunately for her,” He glanced back at the headmistress who nodded. “I am not one to be so easily dissuaded…not when I have fate on my side…. .” the king smiled, reaching for the familiar package his foolish apprentice had given him a few days ago. 

“Shall we try again tomorrow, Your Highness?” Cladestonia asked as she warily eyed the package in the king’s hands. 

He shook his head as a book appeared in his hands.

“Don’t bother,” he frowned, looking over the book’s pages. “With that thing here your search in that worthless forest has been unfortunately….compromised….But in the meantime, no one is to make any attempts on her tomorrow.”

He must’ve seen the looks on their faces as he calmly continued, “I have reason to believe that thanks to our dear princeling, she’ll be at the fair anyway. She and her…guest that is.” the king’s eyes met theirs.

  “Of course, you know I can’t stop any of you from attending or enjoying the fair…” he smiled as he stood to his feet, faintly feeling a cool breeze pass through the corridor. “but d o keep a lookout for anything strange, alright? Things never have a habit of staying buried for long in Salcona.”

“The forest is beautiful tonight…” the star sighed as the sounds of crickets and toads chirping filled her ears. His glowing fingertips grazed the edge of a nearby vine as slowly but surely the forest around them began to glow as if new life had been breathed into it.

“It is,” she sighed, neglecting to look at the forest behind her as she huddled upon the rock firmly embedded near the forest’s edge. 

The pain within her heart had long since dulled, leaving in its wake a strange mixture of embarrassment and guilt as her words to the star had replayed in her mind over and over. 

What had she been thinking?! Asking him of all creatures to do that?! It had only been a few of the questions she’d asked herself as she saw the distant fire towers.

“Hey, Asha do you want to try some?” The star’s voice came as he suddenly appeared in front of her. 

She’d be lying if she’d said she wasn’t at least partially surprised to see Cepheus back in the outfit she’d seen him in when they’d first met, seemingly a lifetime ago. Save for his newfound claws and longer hair he’d looked nearly identical to back then.

“Honeysuckle?” She asked, cautiously taking the plant from the star. “Were you…foraging?”

“Yep! Sorry it took me a while, but they’re so small that you usually have to find a bunch of them just to taste it!” He plopped a dark berry into his mouth as she looked on in horror. “What? I thought you’d prefer it to my cooking-,”

“No no Cepheus it’s not that! It’s just…I don’t think you should be eating those berries- they’re probably toxic and-,” her voice trailed off as she watched Cepheus slowly swallow.

“They’re toxic?” He didn’t sound worried. Of course, he wouldn’t be. 

“To humans at least,” she sighed before tenderly massaging her temples. How in the world had she nearly forgotten that the semi-glowing being in front of her was anything but human?

“Are the towers always lit like that?” asked the star’s voice after a moment of silence. 

“Only when storms are approaching,” she replied, somewhat surprised to see them all burning so brightly together tonight but as she said, it was to be expected given the possible storm that loomed on the horizon. 

“Hmm,” the star hummed thoughtfully as she heard branches break. “It’s almost like they’re arranged in a pattern of some sort,” the star thoughtfully spoke as he glanced at the flickering towers.

“They probably are,” Asha sighed. “Seeing as how Lord Vitrius was around when the astronomers named the place, I wouldn’t be too surprised if someone like him with a cartographic background had a hand in designing certain landmarks like this….”

The star was silent momentarily before asking, “How much do you truly know about Tau Vitrius?”

“Not much,” she confessed. “But yesterday the prince had given me his manuscripts that he’d obtained while in exile. He thought there was something more to them than what met the eye, given how hard Vitrius had tried to destroy them before he died. I did some digging about him in the library and ended up stumbling across his journal….I couldn’t find much on the manuscripts, but I know that he was my father’s master, and he wanted him to find something before he suspiciously departed Rosas.”

“And have you found it?”

“Found what?”

“The thing that the prince wanted you to decipher?”

“Ha!” she scoffed and waved dismissively. “How could I when he doesn’t trust me enough to be fully transparent? He must’ve been insanely desperate to have gotten me involved in the first place given how he couldn’t even be bothered to bring me back any sort of gift! And I mean, I know it sounds insanely entitled given the circumstances and what he went through, but I can’t help but feel as if the prince himself never really placed any true meaningful value or thought into our friendship… come to think of it, maybe none of them ever did…”

“Even Dahlia?”

“Yes? No?... Uh, I don’t know!” ” she scowled as she drew her knees to her chest. 

She’d let the conversation lapse into silence as her eyes remained solely focused on the distant lights of Banquo. 

The city looked lively tonight, probably with what she suspected to be the last-minute preparations for the fair tomorrow.

“Asha?” Came Cepheus’s voice. “Are you feeling better?”

Yes, she could already feel the words forming on the tip of her tongue as they’d done so many times before. ‘I’m fine. Everything is fine. Everything was always fine, wasn’t it?’

So why couldn’t she put herself back together? 

Even in the worst of times, she’d always been able to pick herself up and put the pieces of her heart back together. Maybe her fixed heart had never quite perfectly resembled what it had been before, but at least it had looked similar to a heart, or what she’d thought had been acceptable enough to pass for one even with all its cracks and fractures.

But this time, she wasn’t quite sure what it would look like if she’d ever been able to put it back together…nor was she certain that it would ever be good enough….

Nothing was ever good enough…

 Not her, and not her heart….

“I…I’m sorry,” she began as she feebly wiped her tears. “I know you’re trying to help me, and I really appreciate it, I just….I don’t think I’ll ever feel better…I don’t know how,” she confessed, staring at her lap as the tears began to blur her vision. “I don’t know anything…not about my family, my home, and or even myself…”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head, unable to give voice to the strange yet selfish desire that had begun to eat away at her. She didn’t know why she would feel that way over a boy, a being she’d only known for a few days�� but she had a sinking suspicion that it had been because of the way things had been going.

In the past few days, Her life had undeniably fallen apart and with every crack and rupture that had appeared, she’d only had one person or place to turn to.

She shook, trying to ignore how cold the passing breeze felt as she tightly tugged at her tear-stained skirts.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d sat there in silence before he’d suddenly stood up. She’d nearly asked him what was wrong when he quickly unfastened his cape from his shoulders,  before gently placing it on hers.

The warmth immediately enveloped her as she dumbly watched the star look her over once, not twice, with a rather pleasant smile before re-taking his seat next to her.

Had he just? No, he couldn’t have-?! She thought, staring at the beautiful glowing cape that now adorned her shoulders as the star laughed. 

Had he really just given his cape to her so nonchalantly?! She could scarcely believe it as she took in the sight and feel of the cape, taking note of the cape’s smaller details of constellations and clouds that she’d failed to notice before. 

Calling the cape beautiful was an understatement, she thought, feeling somewhat grateful for the protection it had now put between her and the wind. 

She knew she should’ve said thank you, or at least something to the star who sat beside her, more focused on Banquo than anything else, but as her heart began to race she had no choice but to sink within the cape’s warmth, muttering a garbled thank you that not even the star would be able to understand.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d sat there in silence before he’d spoken again, this time to ask, 

“Asha…Have you ever been to any other countries?”

“No…It’s too expensive…” she confessed, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy she felt as she remembered how frequently the royals and nobles used to travel. “But I’ve always dreamed of going to Corona. For a time I even thought about becoming a diplomat just so I could have an excuse to get a change in scenery…”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to focus on my father’s work instead…” she confessed, as she stared at the cape’s patterned edges. “it made me feel as if I’d gotten to see a side of him I would have seen if he’d never passed…or what he would’ve wanted me to do if he’d survived…I just…can’t believe he wouldn’t have wanted me to be a part of it…I thought if there was anyone who’d always believe in me then it would’ve been him…but now…I’m not even sure anymore.”

The star frowned, leaning back as he tilted his gaze towards her. “I can’t speak for your father, but maybe his request had come from a place of concern rather than disappointment. Remember he was as much of your father as he was an astronomer, and with the order probably well gone by the point you’d enter into his life, you’d probably taken top priority to him. So thinking of it from a parent's point of view, why would he want you to live The life of an astronomer, one that has never been particularly easy nor 100% safe, even at the height of their power? If something had caused the order to collapse surely he wouldn’t have wanted you to be caught up in it as well…”

“I guess…that does make sense…” Asha slowly nodded as her grip on the cape loosened. “but what exactly am I supposed to do without his legacy? Everything I’ve endured and put up with was because I always told myself that it was for a greater purpose, that I had a greater purpose! It’s the only reason why I was able to get an apprenticeship in the first place or even get the manuscripts to learn about Tau Vitrius from the prince! It was all because people thought I was destined to follow in my father’s footsteps, and I was fine with that! I could live with that! But now I see that in this world with people like the king and beings like you I have….nothing to offer…for anyone…”

“I wouldn’t say that-,”

“Why not?” 

“Well, it’s not like you’ve depleted all your options. You’ve been stuck in the same role for five years…You know your life is too short to not expand your horizons, Asha.”

“Is it?” she asked as she stood up and began to pace. “What point is there in moving elsewhere? People from all over love and admire the king and his powers. Once they figure out I’m his useless former apprentice I doubt they’d even bother entertaining an introduction. There’s just no place in this world for me or my inventions.”

“Then why not look elsewhere?” he asked as she came to an abrupt halt.

“Elsewhere?” she stared at him in disbelief. “Cepheus where exactly can I look? The royal family has been all over the world for recreational or job-related affairs, and every time they return they tell me just how much the world appreciates their powers and whatnot. How exactly am I going to compete against that?”

“Maybe you don’t have to compete…” he shrugged as he stood to his feet and neared her. “Have you ever thought about going to outer space?”

“Outer…Space?” she frowned, risking a glance at the star. “Cepheus that’s not possible-,” Her voice trailed off at the teasing expression on his face before she promptly shook her head.

“Fine. Cepheus that’s not practical.”

“Why not?” he frowned. “We’ve taken astronomers up to space before and things were perfectly fine.”

“Astronomers?” she scowled. “I’m sorry you mean the same group of people that my own father didn’t want me to have anything to do with regarding his past with your kind for best case scenario my safety and worst case, because of my incompetence?”

“Well sort of, but your mother said that he never had an issue with you studying the art of astronomy-,”

“Yes, but not the actually important part that involved your world remember?”

Cepheus leaned back, his eyes nearly lost in thought as if he’d been contemplating something before he shook his head. “I thought you wanted to help me restore the order? Didn’t you want to be a part of it?”

She had. God knows that for some insane reason, a small part of her had wanted to. But could she take that chance given what she knew now? Knowing that she wasn’t supposed to be a part of his world? No. She couldn’t. 

“I told you I was a selfish person Cepheus.”

He shook his head. “You’re a lot of things but I wouldn’t call selfish one of them.”

“Alright then,” she huffed. “Since you know me so well why don’t you tell me- what am I?” 

“Defiant.”

“Defiant?” A strange laugh escaped her as she stepped back from the star. “What in the world makes you think that I, of all people, am defiant?!”

“I think that even though you and so many others tell yourself that you don’t deserve better, you don’t truly believe it. If you did then you wouldn’t want things to change. You wouldn’t hate yourself for not being able to accept it or berate yourself for feeling that you weren’t good enough. You wouldn’t want more for yourself and others, and you know that, don’t you? That wish in and of itself is defying the very concept of the strict structure that your society seeks to perpetuate. But the people around you that’s become your world, have done nothing more than disappoint you over and over again so much that you can’t help but fear what would happen if you were to take that final step to leave it all behind. But you know it’s there, right? Calling to you to take that final leap…”

Shame filled her as she found herself unable to particularly answer before he continued, “In the king's perfectly crafted world of order you’re the entropy he fears. The one he’s tried so hard to convince the world never existed and that’s why he hates you for it.” He grinned an expression that had failed to match his words. “If I were your king, I’d be terrified of you.”

“If you were my king, I think I’d be a little more than defiant,” she grumbled, earning herself a rather hearty laugh from the star. 

She hadn’t exactly been joking, but hearing his laughter was a nice change of pace, she’d thought as she smiled in spite of herself. 

“I just don’t understand why you would make it sound like a good thing….” she sighed as his laughter died down.

“Isn’t it?” he smiled. “You’re a far more interesting woman than you think.”

Interesting. That was hardly a step up from amusing in her book. In fact, she wasn’t really sure what to make of it- would it have killed him to call her enchanting or tantalizing?! Eh, given what he’d said about the anti-love rules, probably…

But she couldn’t help but feel as if the star were studying her…for what and why was beyond her…perhaps he was still trying to figure out what to make of her.

‘Him and me both,’ she mentally sighed before wrapping the cloak around herself.

“Still…I can’t just up and leave my family like that…I’ve already given them enough problems as is and besides the culture and history of my family’s past and present are permanently ingrained into these lands….if I went to space with you. I could never come back here…”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

She took a deep breath. 

What was the point of keeping all these secrets from him? If he’d ever had something of an ulterior motive then what could she do to stop him? Yes, she knew in the past she’d kept all those secrets from him out of a sense of shame and possibly responsibility given her…father’s job. But with all that gone, why even bother? He was bound to find out the truth at the fair which she was admittedly in no state to attend. 

If anything it was better to tell him now, so she could at least prepare him.

“Cepheus there’s something I need to tell you…” she slowly started as her hands nervously fidgeted. 

“This kingdom, its monarch and its people…in its infancy, it was believed that when our king gained the power to grant wishes, that it attracted attention from elsewhere and monsters descended from the skies. Monsters that only the king could defeat and keep the wishes safe from….and ever since then nearly everyone in this kingdom has had a negative view of stars…

“A courtesy of the king’s imagination, I guess,” he sighed.

“Yes….” she paused, taking in the distinct lack of surprise on the star’s face. “did…did you know?”

“I mean, sort of? Yes?” he tentatively shrugged. “But in my defense, Velius’s rambling, the king’s law of power exclusivity, and even the entire concept of the wish gardens leave very little to the imagination.”

“You knew about the wish gardens?!” she exclaimed. “How?!”

The star hesitated, nearly looking embarrassed and guilty before he admitted, “When I granted Julian’s wish he was still lurking around it.”

She gritted her teeth. “I meant to tell you sooner, I really wanted to, given how deeply ingrained those sentiments were into our culture but I just didn’t know how, not when I was the reason why you’d ever be stuck in a place like this…” She shook her head. “You didn’t see them, did you?”

“See what?”

“There are several murals scattered around the kingdom, each depicting a battle the king underwent while protecting Rosas from…you know…so I just wanted to warn you about them in case we see them tomorrow…”

“I see…well…” the star started after a moment or so of silence. “I appreciate the warning Asha…”

She cast him a wary glance, unable to fully make out his expression as he stared at the cloudy skies above. “Maybe you shouldn’t go….”

“And let you roam around a new place with more possible assassination attempts?” he shook his head. “Not likely.”

“Cepheus! Didn’t you hear Velius? OR anything I just said about the kingdom’s culture and viewpoint on stars? Someone knows you’re here in Hamlet, and they’re actively looking to find you. Not to mention that The king’s going to be unveiling the final mural soon for this thing he claims is going to be the ‘new era of Rosas’, so if there was ever a time for the nobles and common folk to be completely insufferable about the topic, then it’s now!”

“Final mural?” the star repeated. Now he sounded curious.

“Yeah, he claims it’s depicting the most vicious star he ever fought.”

“Did he say the name of it?”

She shook her head, “No, but come to think of it, none of the stars he’s ever defeated in any of the murals have ever been explicitly named, none save for…Alderamin.”

“Alderamin?” the star snorted. “He told you he beat Alderamin? Did he do it with a straight face or was he crying?”

“Well he didn’t tell us himself, but the royal playwright who usually gets all of his content approved by and tailored to the royal family made a whole musical number and play depicting the ordeal…”

“Was it good?”

She grimaced. “The song was admittedly catchy, yes, but I don’t think it’s going to be a tune you should be eager to listen to.”

“Fair enough!” the star happily beamed to her confusion. “But you know, the more I think about it, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you just so happened to receive an invite the moment I entered your life, do you? I mean the invitation did say that they were looking forward to seeing you and your guest, as in singular and not ‘you and your family’ or ‘you and your guests.’ They’re expecting you to bring someone in particular Asha, and I have a feeling that if you don’t, they’re not going to take too kindly to my absence.”

 Great. So she was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. What was she going to do?! At the rate at which things were going, she’d be lucky if the king banished her before the yearly storms rolled in!

But come to think of it, the star did have a point… The timing was oddly strange as was the wording… She hadn’t known just when, how, or why they’d put the puzzle together to figure out something was amiss with Cepheus, but she was more certain than ever that this wouldn’t end well for anyone, save for the royal family.

She drew in one shaky breath after another as she forced herself to remain calm. “Cepheus…If you go to the festival tomorrow, will you be alright?”

“Asha I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with worse remember? If I die, I promise you that this fair won’t be the cause of it.”

Ah right…the trials…but the way he’d said; ‘ if I die’ had bothered her. But it hadn’t been enough to keep her from asking, “Die? Do you mean as in say the king killing you? Could a human ever do that to a star?”

He frowned. “Stars may be immortal but we are alive and as such we too can die. But unlike humans or most creatures we do not find or gain any reprieve or closure in death….” his voice trailed off as the sounds of the forest filled the air once more.

It was nearly insane to think that the king, and to some extent, maybe even the prince had been telling the truth. But what else had they been right about? She was too afraid to find out…

“Why didn’t you believe?” the star asked, breaking the silence again as he turned his eyes towards Banquo.

“What?”

He turned his darkened eyes towards her.  “Why didn’t you believe in your king…your master’s past trials and tribulations? You seem to be a rather staunch defender of his benevolence and positive contributions to society…so why draw the line there?”

“It’s not as interconnected as you think…I’ve always found stars to be beautiful and well…fascinating. Both in their contribution to mythology and science, so growing up, I could never quite believe all those stories about them being bloodthirsty monsters, prowling in the heavens, and eagerly awaiting the day to seek revenge. I mean, how could I when every night without fail they’d decorate the night sky, offering guidance to any wayward soul?” she asked, looking towards the cloudy skies and trying to imagine the stars from above looking down at her. “It���s how my father told me he found the land that would soon become Rosas when they’d first lost their home, and it’s how my ancestors on my mother’s side were able to always make it home even on the darkest of voyages around the world.” She took a seat once more and sighed. “I’ll be honest with you, do I give the king too much leeway at times? Yes. But you have to understand, he was my father’s best friend. When he died, he was the one who looked after us… so slandering him feels like I’m indirectly slandering my father.”

“Your grandfather doesn’t feel the same way-,”

“Ha! He never does, why do you think he’s always praying to our ancestors and whatever else he believes in for luck? The same ancestor who wanted nothing to do with your people or the order! Even when you guys were trying to help us! But you can’t ever make my Saba see it that way. Nope. He's always complaining about his bloodline this, and bloodline that, but if he really cared then he’d be honest and open about the past.”

“The past, huh?” the star murmured as he sat beside her. “I know you said that your father and grandfather didn’t see eye to eye on the matter, but how exactly did they end up back in Rosas’s predecessor if that’s what your ancestor didn’t want?”

“I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with that mistake Velius was talking about…but I doubt my grandfather would want to talk about it…he’s always been vague about the past…but come to think of it…everyone has…all I know is that my family was something of an outcast long before my grandfather was born…and I think Geron is to blame for it…”

“Why would you blame Geron? I mean sure he didn’t do anything wildly significant but nearly every iteration of that story can agree that he was more or less a neutral figure.”

“See and that’s the problem!” she cried as she stood. “He’s insignificantly neutral! How does one person involved with raising not one but two kings end up being forgotten by history? Especially when he served as an advisor to one of them! But I think I know how,” she scowled. “When humanity was making progress in Atlantis’s absence by forming the order, all he could do was run away….But that’s it, isn’t it? History is repeating itself….my father, just like Geron served as an advisor to a powerfully remarkable king, but what exactly do they have to show for it?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call Erlan a remarkable king,” Cepheus quietly interjected. “But given that I am something of a blue star, it could just be my bias speaking.”

“You don’t like Erlan?”

“I tolerate him more than most blue stars,” he shrugged. “The Apsuramal despises the very thought of him though. He sided with the star who shattered the ancestor of the Cerulean court.”

“Wait- but I thought you said that you weren’t related to the Heart of Atlantis? Now you're telling me that it’s the ancestor of all cerulean stars?”

“Uh…It’s complicated,” the star nervously smiled before quickly adding, “and in most iterations, it’s believed that Erlan’s forces had been the cause of Atlantis’s destruction but blamed it on the ancestor to not invoke the wrath of the remaining blue stars…a notion the Cerulean court couldn’t take well, not when they believed most Atlanteans to be something akin to star bloods.”

“Star bloods?” she whispered. 

“Yes. There was believed to be something of a tight, maybe even blood bond between the Apsuramal and the Atlantean queens, one that most suspected was the cause for the relationship between the old kingdom, the order, and the cerulean court never being quite strong as it should have been…but it only worsened with each passing millennium.”

Huh…maybe that was why Magnifico had never exactly liked the cerulean court…but still… ”I never would’ve guessed, given how Vitrius and Deneb seemed to be on good terms.”

“Ah, you know about those two?” 

“Yeah, my Dad mentioned them in his journal…Deneb had summoned them to visit when she’d recruited my father to be Sirius’s astronomer…I don’t know if he ever took the job or not…”

“What did you say your father’s name was again? Was it the same one he had while working for the order?”

“I….” her voice trailed off. “I don’t know…I used to think that I knew him better than most people did….but now I’m not sure…” she sighed. “but all I know is that near the beginning of his tenure within the order, he became Vitrius’s protégé…and then he’d somehow ended up being entangled within Sirius and Polaris’s affairs…” She winced as the star’s face paled. That couldn’t have been good. “I don’t know how it ended, but he was worried about the crimson court coming after his family…so much so that now I can’t help but wonder if my lack of powers was the culmination of some sort of curse that they’d placed on him! Think about it Cepheus, I’m the perfect obstacle to his legacy!”

“Eh…” the star slumped as hints of color returned to his face. “Not to discredit your father or anything but I doubt that.”

“You doubt that?!” she stammered. “Why?”

“Well for starters, the solution to said problem is rather pitifully easy. If you’re so worried about your kids inheriting your lack of powers, then why not have a child with a man or being who has an abundance of them? Powers are a hereditary trait, and given your father’s connections to high-ranking stars I’m more than confident that he would’ve been able to make this happen.”

She fervently shook her head. “Not if the crimson court took out the order first! Or severed the connections between our worlds!”

He shrugged, still not looking too convinced, “Possibly but all that work for just one astronomer is pointlessly petty. Even for them. Look, I’m pretty sure that if the crimson court had cursed him then I don’t think the curse would’ve been that….passive per se.”

“Oh yeah? Then explain to me why red-crystal-wearing assassins who utilize their powers chasing after us?!”

He narrowed his eyes, as all notes of humor and laziness within him died.  “...What did you just say?”

Oh…oh…she messed up badly, didn’t she? She’d been meaning to tell him about the Crystal but between the assassin’s encroachment on the tree and her family’s plan to move, she’d had little courage to be forthcoming with this information.

But it was too late now.  

 He’d already been trying to get her to contemplate leaving, but now she was certain he’d force her. 

She trembled. “T-The one that fell into S-salcona was wearing a red crystal around her neck…I didn’t know if any of the others were wearing one, so I didn’t think much of it until I’d heard they’d poison the tree…I…I’m sorry for not telling you this earlier…but…I was afraid!”

‘Idiot,’ her mind hissed. How could she have been so incompetent?! He was probably furious that she hadn’t brought this up sooner. Fear wasn’t a viable excuse here. Not when time wasn’t on their side.

She shrunk, waiting for any signs of anger or movement. She didn’t want to know what an angry Cepheus would look like…

Maybe he’d start yelling at her like the king, or pity her and distance himself from like the prince, or speak hurtfully like her Saba or- or-

“Asha?” Came the star’s voice as she felt him gently grip her shoulders. “Asha, what’s wrong?”

Everything . Her mind had whispered as her eyes nervously met his. “You’re…you’re not mad at me?”

His jaw slightly slackened. “Why would I be?” 

“I mean everyone else is, so why not you?” She grimaced as she took note of the lack of laughter coming from the star.

Cepheus didn’t look annoyed or exasperated…no he looked worried and concerned…the type of emotions she should’ve expected from someone who’d swam to the bottom of Salcona for her… 

Come to think of it He’d done more for her in a few days than the king and prince had done in years, so why couldn’t she see him like that? Oh…she knew why…

“I’m sorry Cep-,”

“Don’t apologize…”

“Why not? Look at all the terrible things I’ve said to you lately. You’ve been nothing but helpful to me and yet when I look at you…when I think about you I just…I just get so scared that just like everything else it will all mean nothing! I don’t even know why I think that! It’s so illogical but I can’t help it! You were the only person in my life who actively helped me uncover my dad’s past! But now I can’t help but feel like I let you down most of all…”

“Asha you didn’t let me down. You didn’t let anyone down. Anyone in your place with your knowledge would’ve done the same thing. Regardless of what we know now, at the end of the day, he was your father and I can’t fault you for being the least bit curious about him.”

She lowered her head, thinking it all over as the breeze gently pushed her braids. “Do you think he should’ve kept it from me?” she whispered. “That he shouldn’t have wanted me to get involved?”

He sighed. His grip on her shoulders ever so slightly loosening. “I can’t give you a fair answer on that Asha.”

“I don’t want a fair answer!” she cried as her voice broke. “I want your answer!”

The star grimaced, “then no. I don’t think he should’ve. But I can’t lie that the history and conflict surrounding his star connections would’ve been enough to leave anyone reasonably cautious. Maybe your father thought that, and if he did then I think you at least deserve to know that much…”

 He looked at the surrounding trees, before tentatively laying his hand on one. “I suppose it’s best if we start from the beginning then.”

“What…what do you mean?” 

“A deal is a deal isn’t it?” She hesitated, feeling his eyes examine her before he gently added, “Even if your father didn’t want you to be a part of his legacy, that doesn’t erase the hard work you’ve put in to come this far…so I think you at least deserve to know the truth if you so wish to.”

[lyranova]

I read all your rant about Finral and Finesse and everything, and even though I completely understand your points... I have to admit, I never felt that Vanessa and Finral were teased as a ship, but as best friends. I understand why people felt otherwise, but it wasn't my case (even today, I only feel the friendship chemistry, but I DO support those who ship them). Isn't it weird that we felt something else entirely for the bond between Vanessa and Finral?

On the other hand I was immediately totally on board for Finral and Finesse. Don't ask me why, I just find it so cute from the start. But I do agree, that it might should have been introduced a bit better and certainly sooner, maybe.

Sorry if I bother you with that. It just made me think, how different we felt about this topic, but how I can still totally understand your point and Acacias. And I totally support that. Ship Finral and Vanessa all you want, consider Finral and Finesse as friends all you want, be happy about it! I fear it's just not my cup of tea in a romantic way, but that is just my opinion. But as best friends, as Brotp, I'm all on board for it.

(Sorry that I submit, but the ask didn't let me write all of this^^')

———-

Hiya @just-a-little-fan-1793 (I wasn’t sure if the submitted post would tag you or not 😅)! I wonder why the ask box wouldn’t let you type this all out, that’s really odd 🤔, maybe Tumblr is glitching again.

No worries, not everyone views things the same way, if we did, it’d be pretty boring wouldn’t it 😆? At least that’s what my other mutuals and I say when we talk about disagreeing or we have different opinions on things! Like for example; there’s a certain Kdrama that I’ve watched and loved where a lot of people felt the FL and the ML had a bunch of chemistry and wanted the characters to get together, but I on the other hand felt that the ML and the Second FL had a lot more chemistry together (even after I rewatched it I still felt the same) and that the FL and ML were just…friends? Aquantinces? Understanding of each other? I don’t know the right word rn, but apparently the writer felt the same way because in season 2 they heavily implied the Second FL had feelings for the ML 😆!

So it really is fun where people can watch the same show and get totally different vibes from characters, ships, etc! Whether it’s kdrama’s or anime! And I think that’s something I love about fandom, you and someone else could have watched the same scene but got two completely different things from it, which makes it fun and interesting I think!

Anyway back on the topic at hand; I don’t mind Finral x Finesse 🥰, I’ll admit they’re not really one of the ships I think about a lot, but I think they can be very cute together! They really should have introduced Finesse better then they did 😔, or even hinted at her existing like my mutual @loosesodamarble said (Langris could have easily mentioned her when he saw Finral in Kiten, like Erika said, but they didn’t 😭!)

You aren’t bothering me with this! I actually enjoy talking about ships and how peoples ships are different then mine (if that makes sense, I have a killer headache so I’m not sure if I’m making much sense 😆!). I think it’s fun how differently we see the topic, and I 100% support you in shipping Finral x Finesse 🥰! If (or when tbh) they become canon in Black Clover I’ll fully support them and love them as well even though I ship Finral x Vanessa. And I support you in only seeing them as a BROTP, they certainly are best friends at the end of the day, which makes me love those two no matter what 💕!

Thanks for sending this in, I don’t know why tumblr glitched and wouldn’t let you send it in as an ask 😔. But I still enjoyed hearing your thoughts and opinion, even though they’re different from mine 🥰! I want this blog to be a safe place for everyone to voice theirt houghts and opinions whether we agree or not 😁. So thank you for sending this in 💕!

[alwayzraven]

Kardeşlerim Ep 81

Ayla gave the Erens an hour to leave their house. The movers are going to come and move the furniture out of the house. Ayla didn't tell Sengul that she sent the man who stole her money. The movers put all of the furniture in the garden. The Erens went to Sengul's sister house but she already had guests so only Sengul and Umutcan could stay. The rest went to Tolga's house but Tolga and Doruk weren't there because they took Bahar to the hospital.

Berk called Aybike. He sensed that something was wrong with her. Aybike told him that his mom bought their house and kicked them out.

Berk:”You’re probably joking so I can come to you. My mom wouldn’t go this far”

He just couldn’t believe that his mom would do that. Aybike told him to go ask his mom. 

Berk was so pissed at his mom. When he confronted her, Ayla acted like what she did was completely normal. She told him that Sengul put her house up for sale and she bought it, she did nothing wrong. She didn't tell him that she tricked Sengul into selling her house. Obviously, she doesn't want him to find out the truth bc she knows he will be pissed and their relationship will be ruined. Berk left the house angry and went to the Erens house. He saw that their stuff are outside in the garden. He called Aybike but she didn't want to answer. Aybike said that she's not in the mood to talk to him and Oglucan told her that Berk is not to blame for what his mom did. Berk called Oglucan and asked him where they went. Aybike told Oglucan to lie. Oglucan said that they are staying with their dad's friend. 

Berk:”I am so ashamed, I don't know what to say but believe me I didn’t know that something like this happened otherwise I would’ve never allowed it ”

Oglucan:”It’s okay, don’t be sad, we know you, don’t worry”

Aybike:*nods*

I loved this small detail of her nodding and agreeing to what Oglucan said to Berk ❤️️

That night, the Erens spent the night at an abandoned warehouse.

The next morning, Emel went to school with the others bc she got sick. Berk apologized a thousand times to everyone for what his mom did 🥺 

It looked like Aybike held his hand but the camera didn’t film it.

He asked them if they were going to stay at Orhan’s friend’s house today too but Emel told him that they stayed in an abandoned house the night before. Berk was surprised. The kids thought about what to do to make some quick money so they can at least stay at a hotel and decided that they will sell some things (clothes, toys, cake....) and AsDor will sing a song. They managed to make some money. Here is what Ayber were doing while the others were working 😂

Unfortunately, while they were standing in front of the hotel, a kid stole Oglucan's bag (the money was in that bag) and they couldn't catch him so they went to Tolga's house and spent the night there.

The next day, Orhan went to Gunul's restaurant. She made him an offer at the beginning of the episode. She will help him catch the man who scammed Sengul if he gets back with her. Orhan accepted her offer. Gunul called Sengul and told her that Ayla was the one who sent the man who scammed her. She told her that she will go the police station with her and give her testimony about this. Sengul went to Ayla’s house and told her that she found out about what she did and she will report her to the police. Ayla told her that everything she did was for her son and begged Sengul to hear her out because she doesn't want to leave her son without a mother. Ayla gave Sengul her house back (The deed of the house is in Sengul’s name) and told her to keep Aybike away from Berk but Sengul replied:”I will not get involved in those things” and I just love her response 😂 Can we interpret this as a sign that Sengul does not hate Berk anymore??? Berk has a scene with Snegul and Orhan in ep 82 or 83  and I am so curious about what the scene is about. It can’t be something bad like “you need to break up with Aybike rn!” because obviously, Ayber’s relationship doesn’t bother Sengul anymore.

In the teaser, it looked like Berk found out about how his mom send someone to scam Sengul and decided to leave the house.

Berk: “I don't want to talk to you any more, nor do I want to see your face.”

Berk never spoke to his mom like that 😬 He could be going to Tolga’s house since Doruk is also there. 

Overall, this episode was good and I can tell that the next ep will also have some action. I can’t wait to see Aybike’s reaction to Berk leaving his house.

[cheoliehansoliereblogs]

🧸this is a review for @k-fic-collection 🧸

Consider this my live reaction while reading the fic

First of all, before we even get into this, can I just say I love a good college A. Something about the vibes are just immaculate

“See, I only know that one slimy creature with the ring. What was he always saying…” The man snapped his fingers, a lightbulb switching in his otherwise empty brain. “Ah, yes!” He then completely distorted his voice, rasping, “My presh-shious!” - the way Vernon would drop kick me because that’s also the only line I know from that movie

Vernon could not help his smile dropping. I don’t get paid enough for this. - how I feel working my on campus job and the students email me over things that are clearly explained

but someone this aesthetically pleasing did not come to stores like his - I’ve never heard someone be referred to as aesthetically pleasing, but if someone said that to me, I would be honored

“I don’t know if you’d have the Disney Princess box set? You know, the complete edition?” - this is something I would do for sure. Either Disney Princess or classic Barbie movies

Perhaps you were braindead? - ouch

who was watching Disney movies at that age? - Disney movies are a classic to be enjoyed at any age, Chwe Hansol!

He had, in his own words, called you a hag. - I will throw hands, istg

“My god, you’re a filmbro!” - the accusation serves him right for judging reader for wanting a Disney Princess box set

Of course the pretty, borderline-mean, borderline-terrible-taste-in-movies girl was taken - all these insults, yet he still wants her. What does that say about him?

“How can I help you, Miss Disney-Hag?” - I will literally fight this man, even if I’m over a head shorter than him. I will come for his ankles 

Packaged in pink casing, Sofia’s most treasured piece sat, almost with its head held high as the other movies orbited around its pull. - I cannot believe this man is stealing his little sister’s most prized possession rn for a girl he barely knows

Kim Mingyu. Fuckass Kim Mingyu. Film major—just like him. One of the most popular boys in the year—very unlike him. All the teachers love his essays, all the girls love his freakishly-perfect six-pack, which Vernon is extremely irritated (and devastatingly intimidated) by. - not at mingyu being the literal worst for being too perfect (I get it)

“You’ve never had a hot girl this close to you.” - oh to have this confidence

“All part of my master plan.”- idk what evil plan is being concocted rn, but I’m so here for it

You could only shake your head, trying to contain your laugh. “Careful, or I just might bother you after the plan.” - oop-

MINGYU IS A FUCKING IDIOT…CINEMATICALLY ILLITERATE…BORDERLINE MISOGYNIST… - girl, let’s take a few deep breaths

“Didn’t you say she was really stupid, Gyu?” - kim mingyu i hate you with a burning passion wtf (not irl baby, i know you would never)

“_____ may have been hot, but she was one stupid bitch. Thank god I got rid of her.” - the way my jaw dropped, wtf!!!!!!!

vernon: u dont have to wait till next week / vernon: ill help u with the plan - YESSSSSSSSSS

VERNON WAS WONDERING WHETHER HE STILL HAD TIME TO KILL HIMSELF. - me during finals week

“Get in loser, we’re going trespassing.” - an icon, truly

“I don’t take opinions from men who can’t drive.” - once again, an icon

Sure, he could not drive, but was it not just three pedals, a wheel and a dream? - this is how I think about driving as someone who doesn’t have a license

For a moment (and he did not know whether he was going to regret making this assertion), he did not care for Christopher Nolan’s disrespect, after seeing your reaction. - the filmbro has a heart!! He’s changing like the grinch with christmas

What Vernon wanted to tell you was no, no, no, because another second with you would end with all the blood in his system rushing to his head, and other places. Damn everything and everyone, he would want to see you again—no. No. He wouldn’t. He would not. - i love how nervous he is in this. I feel like the members are usually written to be super suave and cool, but seeing him written like a normal guy who’s just goofy and a little bit of a loser is refreshing and kinda nice

Only when, fifteen minutes in, Atlantis is finally introduced that something clicked in his brain. Mingyu tilted his head, thinking out loud. “What the fuck…?” - how can one be so dense??????

The worst arrived in all his golden-skinned, empty-headed glory. Holding one of his DVDs, Kim Mingyu stood at the doorway, his eyes widening with every second they beheld the intruder, one leg out of the house, the other a moment away from heaving him up. - omg omg omg omg omg omg omg omg the p a n i c

And then you were both laughing, giggling beyond control at the narrow escape, and the near crash against some tree. Vernon knew how stupid this whole situation was, but strangely, he did not seem to care—not when you did not see it like that. A very odd prospect. - this scene is so cute 

“So…Tangled is the only one you haven’t watched, huh.” - so disappointed he hasn’t seen one of the best Disney movies to exist. If he doesn’t like it, i’m throwing hands

You, on the other hand, were a problem. He could not let you down—not anymore. Not after today.  - 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“Now why are we already getting context of some random witch’s actions? Less telling, more showing, man!” Vernon kept his arms crossed, shaking his head at the TV. “Oh, great, poor little king and queen in their big ass castle!” - can he shut up??????

Blinking back repeatedly, he could not even shrug it off, stunned once again by how you were casually able to touch him and not feel anything—while his entire system shuts down like a lagging desktop when it tries to run the Sims. - that’s actually so cute

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let me just change my name to Bartholomew Whiteman real quick.” - that’s actually crazy

Because the music that surrounded the two crept into his ears, playing the strings of his senses; because the lights were off save for the TV, shining its dimmed lighting upon your face, making you glow with the dark purples, blues, golds of the Tangled scenery. He lost all interest in everything because you were looking something out of a daydream, watching the events of the movie as if they were scenes of salvation. The two of you were definitely not on any kind of boat, merely sitting on bean bags. Despite all of that, he began to float—swaying from where he sat, as if he was truly settled on water. - if someone ever described me like that i would burst into tears

“If I am to be your exception, _____, then I suppose you can be mine.” - screaming, crying, throwing up

 “I think I could have fun with you anywhere…in secret or for anyone to see.” - asjdkdjsgdklsghi

Whatever happens, Vernon would not be having sex with you if Shrek was playing in the background. - the way i was not expecting it to be shrek omg

VERNON LOST HIS VIRGINITY WITH SHREK PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND. - NO FUCKING WAY

You did not stop teasing him, and he did not stop shutting you up by kissing you senseless. - oh

When the two of you were not terrorising Mingyu’s livelihood - that would be so fun tbh

The beginnings of his shit-eating attitude did not develop, since your smack on his arm completely snuffed it out. “Ow, damn!” - serves him right

but decided that it was important to accompany Vernon to the seemingly bigger release - this is love, sacrifices

What you received instead was a boy engulfed in all the pinks of the colour wheel. - vernon the barbie fanatic i’m so here for it

And as the two of you entered the theatre, hand-in-hand, the boy learned that perhaps he, too, would have gone anywhere with you. - omg that was so cuteeeeee

I just wanna say that I loved the Tangled scene so much. Like that part was so well written and it made me so happy and it made me feel so warm and bubbly inside like words cannot describe how perfect that scene was. This fic was amazing and I loved it so much, definitely one of my favorite Vernon fics.

𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐨-𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝

❝Who knew all it takes is a hot girl with top-tier taste for a man to admit he's wrong?❞

𝒈 𝒆 𝒏 𝒓 𝒆 : fluff, comedy, suggestive, college! au

𝒘 𝒐 𝒓 𝒅 𝒄 𝒐 𝒖 𝒏 𝒕 : 21.7k words

𝒔 𝒖 𝒎 𝒎 𝒂 𝒓 𝒚 : self-proclaimed movie mastermind chwe vernon minds his business—whether that be avoiding the popular, problematic kids in his college to reducing customer interest in his parents' film store. his plan of isolation, however, is completely destroyed when you, a seemingly insane disney fan, slam his perfect movie taste and ask for his help to take down an evil ex.

𝒄 𝒐 𝒏 𝒕 𝒆 𝒏 𝒕 : loosely inspired by watching the detectives, film major! vernon who owns an outdated film store, fem! reader is the baddest (but also the craziest) bitch in this fic, vernon is a loser, film major! mingyu who will be violated many times in this fic sorry king, mentions of many filmbro films which will also be violated, self-indulgent mentions of some of my favourite films, a few super dark jokes nothing serious though, kissing, mentions of sex and the act of cumming (all joking wise) but no actual sex because im fearing god today (super suggestive at best), barbenheimer reference <3

𝒕 𝒂 𝒈 𝒍 𝒊 𝒔 𝒕 : @hyuckworld @junyangis @hiraethmae @lllucere @intoanothermind @kokoiinuts @shnnzsworld @lilifiedeans @talkyoongitome @vanishingboots @cookiearmy @person1fys

𝒂 𝒖 𝒕 𝒉 𝒐 𝒓 ' 𝒔 𝒏 𝒐 𝒕 𝒆 : she is finally here !! so so sorry for taking so long </3 i never thought it would be finished atp but thank you addy and alice for pushing me to complete this lil fic !! addy ur film major info birthed the filmbro slander, and alice...no smut LMAO LOSER anyway do enjoy homies <33

𝒑 𝒍 𝒂 𝒚 𝒍 𝒊 𝒔 𝒕 : if you're too shy (then let me know) by the 1975 || q&a by seventeen || wonderful women by the smiths || confidence by ocean alley || talk talk by charli xcx || oh my! by seventeen

back to masterlist

“NO, THE HOBBIT IS SET BEFORE THE LORD OF THE RINGS.”

This particular customer, however, refused to grasp the concept. “But the Hobbit was released after,” he repeated, as if he had not heard twenty minutes ago, when he first entered the store. “Wouldn’t it make sense to watch the more recent movies?”

Vernon clamped his lips together, stopping himself from saying something that would lose him a potential buyer. Well, not that it would matter much, considering the man before him could not comprehend what a prequel was, but still—he had to make this idiot understand.

“I understand that, sir, but the Hobbit is a prequel to the Lord of the Rings.” Holding onto the DVD set, he pointed to the grand picture of the movie’s protagonist. “It’s based on Bilbo Baggins’ adventures.”

“But was that not the little fellow from the Rings?”

“No, sir, that was Frodo. Bilbo is Frodo’s uncle.” The boy then clarified, tone heightening, “You know, where he reclaims his home from Smaug?”

“Smog?” The customer parroted incorrectly, scratching his hair as if the action would jog his memory. “Now why does this hobbit’s home have health violations?”

The twist of his lips was inevitable. “Smaug,” he corrected. “The dragon…the villain…the whole reason the movie was created?”

“See, I only know that one slimy creature with the ring. What was he always saying…” The man snapped his fingers, a lightbulb switching in his otherwise empty brain. “Ah, yes!” He then completely distorted his voice, rasping, “My presh-shious!”

For a split second, Vernon was a little gob-smacked at the impression. Then, he remembered he needed sales, and made sure to laugh as if that customer was the funniest man that ever stepped foot in the store. 

This particular joker, who was clearly not understanding Vernon’s analogies, instead asked, “Well, which one do you recommend?”

Ah, the fated question. 

Besides from the Lord of the Rings collection, he had been asked this very question a few too many times, when customers would browse the films on offer and ask for his opinion. Not that he considered himself an all-knowing master of movies—

He smiled. Now that was something he could chuckle about.

“Well, sir, the Lord of the Rings is a timeless classic. I would recommend it to anyone interested in a well-written, well-produced fantasy.”

The man twisted his lips. “But I don’t really like fantasy, though.” 

Vernon could not help his smile dropping. I don’t get paid enough for this.

With as much strength he could muster, he persuaded the idiot to get a rom-com instead, and ushered him out. 

He sighed, going back to the desk. The store was never busy—unsurprising, since nobody buys DVDs anymore—but that was how he liked it. The less customers that bothered him, the better. He did not want to be that type of guy, but he would rather have his own company than those who thought that the Marvel movies were God’s gift to man. (The Spiderman movies, however, he had to leave out of his apparently controversial statement).

Vernon was about to close the shop out of pure boredom when someone stepped in. 

His eyes darted to the newcomer. 

They stayed as he beheld you.

Perhaps this was a gross generalisation, but he did not expect someone so cute walking in a store this run-down. Maybe you had mistaken it for a vintage shop, planning to rob the CDs, or thought there might be decades old clothing in here. He was certain you had walked in by mistake, but then you began to browse the movie sections.

His first thought was that you seemed to have excellent taste. 

You slowed your steps in the classics section, eyes roaming at the Fan Favourites shelf which was simply movies Vernon had seen this week. Still, they were amazing fucking movies, hence their place on the shelf, now being admired by the likes of you. He wondered what you thought of the one DVD you picked up, assessing the blurb at the back. Roman Holiday. The boy could have smiled—you truly had a knack for picking out special films. 

Your fingers lingered on the movies for only a couple of minutes before you saw the desk—first the counter, and then the person behind it. 

The fact that your first instinct was to smile at the boy behind the counter had a profound effect on him.

Now, he did not want to sound pathetic; he did not know you, had never seen you before, but someone this aesthetically pleasing did not come to stores like his. Someone who picks up Roman fucking Holiday and be this cute did not acknowledge boys like him.

But Vernon Chwe will be cool about it. He will not look like a loser in front of you.

He pretended to look over some DVDs on the counter desk as you approached him. “Hey, there,” you greeted, and only then he allowed himself to look up, glancing you over. Already you had propped your arms on the top, eyes darting around the store as if finding something which deserved your attention. ���I wanted to ask about a specific film. Well, films.” 

Films? Vernon really thought all the intelligent minds had rotted in this lifetime, but clearly you were an exception. “Of course,” he said, setting the movie on the side. “What genres are you interested in?” he ticked his head towards the Fan Favourites. “You were looking in the right place, to be fair.”

“Hmm?” you only spared that shelf a momentary—dismissive—glance. “Oh, sorry! I was looking for a specific box-set, but I can’t seem to find it on the shelves. I was hoping you could have it out back.”

Specific box-set? Vernon tried to contain his smile. Of course you were looking for a collection of timeless classics. “What’re you looking for?” he asked you, hoping you were going to request Hitchcock’s best. If you asked for Wong Kar-Wai’s trilogy, he might have fallen to his knees. 

You smiled at him.

Then dropped the bomb.

“I don’t know if you’d have the Disney Princess box set? You know, the complete edition?”

Vernon’s eye twitched a little. What the fuck?

Your gaze on him did not shift. “Are you okay?”

It took a moment for him to realise that you had asked him a question. “Huh? Right, sorry,” he said hurriedly, mind rushing for the many possibilities as to why you had requested a set like that. Perhaps you were braindead? No, that was too harsh. But then, who was watching Disney movies at that age?

Then an idea came into his head, and it made him feel much better. 

“So sorry about that,” he reiterated, scratching the back of his neck. “Anyway…Disney Princess set, huh?” He sighed out a laugh. “A sweet treat for your younger siblings, then.”

“Younger siblings?” A swift shake of your head, still smiling. “Haven’t got any of those.” 

The twitching was back. “...anyone under the age of 12 you know?”

“Now you’re making me sound like a freak,” you mused, locking your hands together. “Is it that shocking that I’m getting the set for myself?”

Vernon’s any attempt to diffuse the conversation died the moment you said those words.

Disney. Princess. Movies. The box-set you wanted was a Disney. Fucking. Princess box-set. 

At this rate, his eye-twitching was very much visible to you. “Don’t tell me no one’s ever bought a Disney movie from you,” you said, surprised by his change of attitude.

“Well,” he jeered, “I usually have first-time parents with their toddler kids asking me about sets like that.” 

You then titled your head back a little, taken aback with the comment. “Are you saying I’m too old to watch Disney movies?”

“No!” he instinctively defended himself, though he had virtually no defence to offer. He had, in his own words, called you a hag. 

This was it—he was usually stellar at keeping his opinions to himself. Now, the one time he could have kept his mouth shut, it spluttered open and not only embarrassed him, but one of the only cute potential customers. He was his own saboteur. His own destruction. 

After catching the flurry of emotions on his face, you had a realisation. 

Did his stupid comments get to you? Perhaps they would have, had you not seen his like before. Not only that, you had a sneaky feeling he himself had no clue on what category he was slotted into.

So you let the corners of your mouth curve upwards—up to the point where you were smirking, completely catching the boy off guard. 

“My god, you’re a filmbro!” 

Those emotions that you had witnessed now all conjoined into confusion. “Huh?” was his intelligent answer to the accusation. Filmbro?

And then you began to chuckle—little bursts of soft giggles, which escaped your mouth the more the revelation settled over you. “Wait, wait,” you began, “I need to ask this first!” You wiggled your finger at him. “What is your favourite film?”

Again, the fated question. This time, though, he felt as if his answer would not be the right one. Still—if there was one thing he was confident about, it was his expertise in films.

He tried, as confidently as he could, to voice out his supposed opinion. “Nolan’s Inception is one of the greatest films ever made.” 

There was one, solitary, quiet moment.

It was ruined by the subsequent laughter, courtesy of your mouth, which could not shut after his answer. You had to grip the counter, cackling at the response, and Vernon could only gawk at you, face reddening with every second spent watching you keel over. 

After what seemed like a lifetime (but was only about thirty seconds), Vernon finally cleared his throat. “Alright now, that’s enough comedy,” he muttered.

Another thirty seconds later, you finally seemed to calm down. The mischievous mirth on your face, although would have had any man swooning at your feet, seemed to irritate him all the more. “I’m sorry,” you gasped out, wiping a slight tear from your eye, “You just…you reminded me of my boyfriend.”

Of course. Vernon nearly clicked his tongue in disappointment. Of course the pretty, borderline-mean, borderline-terrible-taste-in-movies girl was taken. Fuck my life, son.

Your smile flickered—almost as if it turned cruel. “My mistake…ex-boyfriend.”

His eyebrow then raised a little. Maybe life can be unfucked; maybe the pretty, not-that-mean-as-he-thought, changeable-taste-in-movies girl was still attainable. 

Your eyes wandered once more, but this time to your hands. “I was actually going to get the Disney Princess set for him.”

The eyebrow decided to raise further up. He was dying to know why you were 1) getting your ex-boyfriend a present and 2) getting your ex-boyfriend the worst fucking present. But of course, due to the lack of balls in his pants, he did not ask you.

The crazier notion was, maybe you knew the lack of balls that should be present in his pants, because you iterated for him. “I’m surprised you’re not asking why I’m giving my ex a Disney Princess movie set, Mr. Filmbro.”

That term had him immediately frowning. “I don’t particularly care,” he lied as best as he could. He then crossed his arms. “Plus, I’m afraid the store doesn’t have the sets. I’m gonna have to order them in.”

A tilt of your head. “Are you lying?”

The cross of his arms was gone—now his hands were raised in surrender. “No, no!” At least not the set order bit…

Although it was quite clear that you did not believe him, you spared him this once. “Alright…” you receded your arms from the desk, taking a step back. Instead, you pointed at him. “But don’t think I’m gonna leave you alone on this!” 

Vernon’s insanely suave, cool, mystique response was giving you a thumb’s up. “Of course.” 

As you walked back to the entrance, hand on the door, you looked back at him. “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Filmbro.” 

The eye-twitch was about to come back. He did not bother waving as you left the shop.

VERNON COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU FOR THE SEVEN DAYS BETWEEN YOU AND TODAY. 

It was slightly embarrassing—he supposed he should have expected some extraordinary meet-cute, where someone who looked and acted like you would waltz into his dusty-ass film store and ask for possibly the worst movie collection to grace the western cinema. 

But then you called him a fucking Filmbro, and now the self-hatred might bubble to the surface of his usual calm demeanour. 

The boy scoffed as he fixed the alphabetical order of the CD covers, located in the Classics section. Filmbro…what the fuck do I look like a Filmbro for…

He firstly supposed that he should consider it a compliment—so what if he had superior knowledge of movies over the average morons that wandered into the store? He was paid minimum wage for this knowledge! Fuck, he was doing a degree within this field! (Not that he was quite sure he would end up as a blockbuster director at the fine age of 21, but the arts majors were always told to dream beyond the realistic limits.)

The more he contemplated over the vicious term, the more it began to bother him. Filmbro…Film. Bro. God, it sounded like a classist clique—a club where the members considered themselves above the laws of society, but were horrendously ridiculed by the outsiders. At the end of the day, he had always been an outsider in these clubs—he did not enjoy being the laughing stock, even if it meant being a member of an elitist group. 

Whatever. So what if you called him a Filmbro? He had only spoken to you once; the opinion of one girl—regardless of how pretty she was—was not of any relevance to him.

But then you sauntered into his store, and suddenly he forgot that he was seething over you for an entire week. 

There you were, footsteps harmonising along the bells of the entrance, and he swerved back to see you. You, in all your frill-skirted, layered-shirted, gum-chewing glory, catching his eye and bringing back the smile which you had offered him the moment you bestowed him that term of little-endearment. 

“Hello again, Mr. Filmbro.”

Don’t be a prick, don’t be a prick, don’t be a prick—

It was fine—it was okay. Vernon was a man now—no longer in his teens. He could have a normal, pleasant conversation. He was mature and able enough to interact with a girl who just happened to disagree with him on certain interests. 

He would be cordial—kind.

“How can I help you, Miss Disney-Hag?”

His skin nearly crawled. I need to kill myself immediately. 

A bit of a low blow from his nickname, but you were laughing, a silly little melody. You must have been crazy, because any other sane, rational human being would have been offended—should have been offended. Vernon fought to keep his face straight. 

“I see you’ve been thinking about me then,” you said. 

That had him looking away, walking behind the counter. “It’s not everyday I get a grown-ass woman asking me about children’s films.”

You mocked a gasp, slapping a hand over your chest. “Ouch. Do you hurt every girl that walks into your filmstore, or is this special treatment reserved for me?

Vernon focused on the cash in the register. “When another girl asks for the special edition for the Cinderella trilogy, then I’ll hurt her just the same.”

You clicked your tongue. “I should have known all men suck in their own ways.” You then approached the counter, propping your elbows atop the surface. “At least show me you’re good at your job and bring me the movie set I ordered.”

At this precise moment, all the thoughts about your stubborn addiction, playful smirk and how terrible the Little Mermaid was had completely vanished.

Shit. 

Maybe his irrational dislike ran further than he thought.

“Yeah…” but then he realised he sounded incredibly suspicious, and cleared his throat, forcing a little assurance in his usual monotone. “Yes! Yeah, of course! The movie set.” He took a step back, nodding his head ever so slowly, as if his head was not churning out a million different plans. “Give me one second…”

“Sure,” you could barely get out before Vernon whirled on his heel, bursting through the backstage door, and into the Chwe flat. 

He did not know whether this was going to work out. 

Like lightning he ascended the stairs, hands brushing against the bannister as he went past his bedroom, door slightly ajar. Not the destination he was seeking, he stopped before the neighbouring door—this one firmly closed. 

The boy made sure to knock first. No answer. Perfect. Slowly turning the knob, he opened the door, peeking around just in case there was someone in the room, and then he would have to resort to more planning. Since the coast was crystal clear, though, he put his mind at ease, only focusing on the main plan.

The room he had entered was a myriad of pop culture references and childhood memories, plastered on the butterfly-covered walls, sitting atop bedside tables or hanging off the hooks. Vernon never realised how invested his sister was with certain TV shows or films till he saw Lindsay Lohan’s mugshot plastered next to her bed. He had asked about it once, but she only waved him off. You wouldn’t understand her impact, she had said to him, and went back to shitting about him to her friends. 

Prying away from the poster, his eyes settled on what he came for, settled in the middle of the huge book shelf.

Sofia prided herself with her book and movie collection, a hereditary trait which Vernon shared: the top and bottom shelves were filled with her all-time favourites, even resorting to furthering her obsessions with the merch related to her treasured characters. He remembered laughing at her ideas until he saw a Barbie FunkoPop figure staring back at him one day. That notion was already horrendous, but the black, soulless eyes had guaranteed its spot in his sleep paralysis the next day.

Thankfully, the little horror was not on show on her bookshelf—this time, right in the middle, was the very prize that he sought. 

The Disney Princess Movie Set—Complete Edition.

Packaged in pink casing, Sofia’s most treasured piece sat, almost with its head held high as the other movies orbited around its pull. As far as Vernon remembered, it held all the Princess movies, and was worth at least 6 hours of his wages.

The boy looked around the room, as if his sister would appear any second.

Then, like a thief in the night (even though it was broad daylight, and would definitely be caught), he swiped the set off the bookshelf, and hurried out of her room.

“Sorry, Sofe,” he could only murmur under his breath as he dashed down the stairs, hoping you had not been bored by his absence, and left him with stolen goods at the scene of the crime.

He opened the door adjacent to the shop, and he almost sighed in relief when you perked up, eyes darting straight to your apparent order. When he saw your face light up like fireworks in the night sky, he titled his head back a bit, stunned by your boisterous reaction.

“You actually bought it!” you exclaimed, drumming your hands against the counter as he set the movies down. “I had a feeling you would blow me off.”

“Business is business,” Vernon said, crossing his arms, “Shit taste in movies will not stop me from making my money.”

You clicked your tongue. “Spoken like a business major.”

“Film major, thank you. I would rather kill myself than submit to the horrors of finance.”

“Don’t die on me just yet.” Bringing out your purse, you fished through its contents, first setting your card on the counter. Then, you brought out a crumpled piece of paper. “I actually have a few more films I want to ask about.”

The boy was expecting another long list of early 2000s rom-coms—perhaps an opinion for every Disney movie ever made in its existence. He swore if he had to hear about Rachel McAdams’ versatility one more time, he might blow his brains out in front of a customer. 

Then you dropped the names, and he had to surge his head forward.

“What are your thoughts on Wolf of Wall Street, American Psycho, Pulp Fiction…Fight Club, Saving Private Ryan, Scarface…” You squinted at the list, finding the names neverending. “Jeez, this list keeps going, huh?” 

He could not help the scoff. “And you called me a Filmbro.” He set his forearms on the counter, locking his hands together. “What do you need these movies for?”

“They’re for my ex-boyfriend.” 

The term had him pausing. Of course—the ex-boyfriend. How has he heard of this man, but not know a thing about him? Shit, he did not even know your name.

“This ex of yours has…an interesting taste,” he said slowly. “What’s he like?”

“I can tell you he attends the same college as you. Well, us,” you clarified, jerking your head towards the college colours of your server’s hoodie. “Film major. Just like you, actually.” 

“Oh?” Small world. “What’s the name?”

“Kim Mingyu. Do you know him?” 

Vernon Chwe nearly shit his oversized jeans.

A hesitant nod of his head. “I have a few classes with him.”

“Oh?” Your stare was a little more intense now. “What do you think of him?”

Right. 

Another fated question—the people around him had to stop asking him such controversial questions, or else he was bound to piss someone off. You were already letting him off the hook too many times; one more judgemental comment, and he was having that Princess movie set smashed on his head.

Kim Mingyu. Fuckass Kim Mingyu. Film major—just like him. One of the most popular boys in the year—very unlike him. All the teachers love his essays, all the girls love his freakishly-perfect six-pack, which Vernon is extremely irritated (and devastatingly intimidated) by. 

What all these people failed to realise, though, was that Mingyu was the biggest piece of shit to grace the halls of his university—and the planet, if dramatics were in order. If you thought that Vernon was a filmbro, then Mingyu was Filmbrother. Filmcomrade. Filmnemesis. 

It was as if you could hear the thoughts churning in his head. “You can be honest, you know. He did dump me at the end of the day.” A smirk began to appear. “Say your worst.”

The reassurance did not help. “I mean,” he started, swiping your card, “He’s okay? I haven’t talked to him enough to have an opinion on him.” 

A half-truth—that should suffice. 

But because the fates like to shit on his head every now and then for kicks, they decided to leave you unsatisfied with his answer. “Or, you can keep lying!” 

Excellent intuition, really. “I’m not!” he exclaimed, slapping the card back on the counter. “I really don’t know much about him.”

The big man upstairs was testing him even further, when, with a determined gaze, you set your elbows atop the surface. You leaned closer, tilting your head to the side as you inspected him, and Vernon blinked back at the sheer lack of space you had created. His mouth twisted, eyes frantically darting at the features of your face, not quite taking in the entirety of your being. Your vision seemed to work perfectly, because it caught the slight flush at the tops of his cheeks, where it was just pale skin seconds before.

Your smirk deepened. “Judging by your blush, you’re either terrible at lying…or,” you offered, voice lowering a little as you drummed your fingers against the counter, “You’ve never had a hot girl this close to you.” 

Fuck everything and everyone, because that only made him blush more furiously. You could not help the chuckle that escaped, deciding to cease torturing him and take your card. “I’ll not say the answer, Mr. Filmbro, but I think you already know.”

Since he had no plans of turning into a human form of a ketchup bottle, he evaded the topic entirely, instead focusing on interrogating you. “You still haven’t told me how Mingyu is related to the movie list you made.”

That seemed to hold your interest. “Oh, of course!” Putting the list back into your bag, you began, “Well, the list holds my ex-boyfriend’s favourite films. I wanted to know your opinion on a few.”

He could not contain his sigh. Oh, he had an opinion on these films that you mentioned. Again, he would rather be buried with his thoughts on the specific genre than ever tell you. The curiosity, though, was eventually going to eat him alive.

So much for minding his business.

“I mean…” he began to think, trying to find the right words. “I don’t mind them? Godfather is a good film, but I’ve seen better from Brando. I like American Psycho, but again, people tend to miss the point of the movie.”

As you nodded, listening to his two-cents on the movies you mentioned, he paused, furrowing his brows. “Why do you care about my opinion?”

You smacked your lips together, folding the list back. “I don’t know much about you, Mr. Filmbro,” you began, “But you don’t run a filmstore without knowing a thing or two about the films you sell.”

“So?” He crossed his arms atop the counter. “Shouldn’t you have asked the guy who you made the list about?”

“Trust me,” you said, your smirk turning more into a rageful flash of teeth, “I know exactly what he thinks of these films.”

Don’t particularly know what to make of that comment. “Well, I don’t know what my opinion for these films is going to help you in any way.”

“It has helped.” You paused then, waiting to see if he would egg you on, asking how his seemingly tame opinions would play into the grand scheme of things. “All part of my master plan.”

Master plan? Vernon may have been interested before, but he was certain that, before, he could have hid it without letting you catch onto it. In a sudden flash, though, as if his mouth was beyond his control, he regrettably slipped out the words which had you smiling more than he would have liked.

“What master plan?”

He almost closed his eyes. Shit. Now I’m fucking invested.

The corners of your mouth, lifting upwards, had him almost nervous. “I was hoping you would say that.” 

Great. Brilliant. Fantastic. Fucking Stupendous. Vernon could not think of other pretentious synonyms. “I will tell you, Mr. Filmbro,” you began, once again settling your locked hands on the counter, “If you help me out with it.” 

That had his eyebrow shooting upwards. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I intended.” A pause. “Look, I know it’s a little crazy…being asked by someone to help in some mysterious plan. But hey!” you added, “You know who the target is, and you know I can be trusted.”

“Calling your ex-boyfriend a target makes this sound like a contract killing. Also, I actually don’t know that,” he corrected, crossing his arms. “The only thing I know about you is your weird obsession with children’s movies.”

“Well, buddy, that’s basically my entire personality, so you don’t need to know any more!”

Vernon sucked in a breath. “I don’t even know your name.”

Your eyes darted to his features, the sharp brows, the speculative eyes, the flared nostrils. His lips, which were twisted in a curious, bemused line. “That’s an easy problem to solve.” You decided to battle his frown with a smile. “_____.”

_____. At least he knew one important thing about you. He swore Mingyu had mentioned your name before, but then he should not also hold certainty—that boy’s favourite subject had always been himself. 

You snapped him out of his thoughts. “This is when you tell me your name now…or do you enjoy being called a filmbro?”

Man…he could not look you in the eye afterwards. “I don’t…” he got out, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “And it’s Vernon. Chwe Vernon.” 

“Vernon,” you repeated, lips curling upwards. “Alright, Vernon, since both of us know each other’s names, you can definitely help me now!” 

The said-boy tried to smile, which was more a grimace. “Well…”

“Tell you what,” you said, trying to find something in your bag. “Wait, give me a second…shit, where is that piece of paper…?” You finally managed to fish a crumpled piece out. “Right!” After catching sight of a pen lying around the counter, you took it and scribbled something quickly, sending it his way.

Taking it, he looked at the messy scribbles—your number. “You’re looking at it as if I passed you a death threat,” you snickered. Vernon gave an uneasy smile. “Just think it over. I need movie expertise, and there’s no one else I know who can help me more than a guy who runs a film store.”

The boy behind the counter listened to you, paper still in hand. Maybe Mingyu made some points breaking up with you—you did not know who Vernon was, save for the name that was tied to him, and the job he was forced to do by his parents. Realistically, he had to decline, because if he has ever learned something in his life—or from watching a myriad of golden age romantic tragedies—is that you never trust the beautiful, crazy girls. 

“Hey,” he heard you say, and he swore your chirp had softened. “I’ll go ahead with my plan in a week’s time. If I don’t hear from you, then I’ll know your answer. You don’t have to tell me now.” When he looked at you, he saw your expression shift. “That’s why I only gave the paper.” 

He supposed he could appreciate this sentiment. “Thanks,” he could only say, pocketing your number. “Is there…anything else you want? Aside from the—” a snide glance at the DVD set—”the movie?” 

“I saw that,” you scoffed, taking hold of the movie set. “And no, I’m alright. I’ll bother you about children’s movies another time.” 

“I’ll make sure these children’s movies are all conveniently sold out when you come,” he countered without thinking. 

You could only shake your head, trying to contain your laugh. “Careful, or I just might bother you after the plan.” 

Vernon did not know what he felt at that notion—would he want that? However, he did not have time to ponder, since you were already heading for the door. As you nearly left the store, bell ringing, he did not hear the door close. He glanced up, catching you looking at him with an indecipherable expression. “Yes?”

You waited a moment before parting your mouth. “I hope to hear from you, Mr. Filmbro.” 

With that, you swiftly exited the store, leaving this Mr. Filmbro even more helpless than he was between the seven days between your first encounter, and now this very second. 

“JO MADE SENSE WITH FRIEDRICH AT THE END. SHE SIMPLY…NEEDED A MAN AFTER PINING FOR LAURIE.”

The professor listened in the small circle, the rest of the students typing or writing down the answer. “Like, realistically,” Mingyu went on, twisting his mechanical pencil between his fingers, “The whole point of the movie is her relationship with Laurie, and that was shattered the moment he married Amy. Friedrich was like…” he pouted in thought, furrowing his brows. “The light at the end of the tunnel…does that make sense, Minghao?”

The said-man nodded. “Interesting take,” he noted, walking closer to the circle he was teaching. “So you agree that Jo needed Friedrich at the end of the film?”

“Absolutely.”

There were a few murmurs around the room, majority of them agreeing with the golden boy who was sitting at the head of the circular, white table. Vernon, who was sat one girl away from him, typed furiously in his laptop, adding to his notes. MINGYU IS A FUCKING IDIOT…CINEMATICALLY ILLITERATE…BORDERLINE MISOGYNIST…Okay, perhaps he was exaggerating on the last one, but his analysis of the question pissed him off. 

Did Jo need Friedrich at the end of the movie? Was what Professor Minghao had asked them about an hour ago. Vernon knew the answer immediately, and, although did not share it with the seminar, was surprised to be disagreed by the majority of the class. Not surprising, however, when his class was filled with men who could not imagine a woman in a film wanting anything else but a man beside her. 

Whatever, he thought, straying from the web page and instead checking the release date for Oppenheimer when he heard your name crop up amongst the discourse in the table. 

“Did _____ actually?” 

“Oh, yeah, said she thought Jo should have been on her own.” A click of tongue. “Not surprising, coming from her.” 

Vernon instantly perked up, fingers pausing on the keyboard. Not surprising? The boy was actually floored at that opinion—and how valid you were for expressing it. 

“I mean,” another girl, right next to him, chimed in, “Didn’t you say she was really stupid, Gyu?”

“God, I don’t know where to begin,” Mingyu said, aghast, and the boy who eavesdropped felt a little dread at every word that escaped his mouth. “Everytime I watched a movie with her she always got bored, or argued with me when I tried to explain shit to her.” 

“I remember we sat with her while we were tryna do our film project last semester,” the boy beside Mingyu recalled. “She had no fucking clue who Martin Scorcese was, man!” 

The group audibly gasped, save for Vernon, who could not help himself, refusing to mind his business. Nasty habit this—he made a note to call you out for this later on, should you walk into his store again. 

Fuck. He did not want that. Of course he did not. He should stop thinking about it too. 

You, that is.

“She’s gotta be the dumbest one yet, Gyu,” the boy snickered, snapping his laptop shut. 

“You don’t even know the half of it,” the dumper groaned, raking through his locks. “You know she was always watching those fucking Disney princess movies?” Vernon’s eyes widened a little. “Man, I remember she wouldn’t get enough of them. Like, what are you, six? Why the fuck am I watching a movie about a midget dragon?”

Then, Mingyu said the words that made the eavesdropper’s spirits shot down. 

“_____ may have been hot, but she was one stupid bitch. Thank god I got rid of her.” 

The others agreed. He may have spoken more on the matter of your lack of media literacy, but the professor was back, and the seminar had quietened, all in focus. 

All except for the boy who had not given his two cents on the matter, frozen solid at the conversation that occurred. What the fuck was that? He had first thought, over and over to the point that he nearly typed it in the seminar document. He had always known Mingyu was an asshole, but what he said about you gave him a very uneasy feeling.  

What sent him over the edge was that a lot of his grievances sounded identical to Vernon’s own words. 

Miss Disney Hag he had called you—to your face he had insulted your taste in films, and you had only laughed. He wondered how you felt when it was Mingyu amplifying those very opinions on a daily basis. 

A frown marred his features. Damn it. He knew he was a loser, but he did not know he was an asshole. Like Mingyu…

Vernon visibly shivered. 

As Minghao voiced out the objectives for the second half of the seminar, the boy brought his hand into his trouser pocket, slipping out the paper. He looked over your number, the messy scribbles dancing in his eyes. Darting to his phone on the table, he held it in his free hand, looking over the contacts. 

“Damn it,” he said under his breath. 

Was he going to regret this? Most probably. Will you probably make him do something that would result in a fatal injury, and land a permanent stain on his social record? One hundred percent. 

If he knew these things already, then what he should have done was toss the paper in the nearest bin. What he did instead, as he typed in some vital information in his phone, was something that changed his life (or at least the life he will live for the next few weeks).

vernon: u dont have to wait till next week 

vernon: ill help u with the plan

There. And now, he shall wait.

Which, he pondered as he saw the immediate response, was not very long. 

normal disney enjoyer: wait who tf is this??

Oops. 

vernon: oh mb this is vernon lmao

vernon: from the filmstore

normal disney enjoyer: oh damn why didn’t u say so !! freaky ass text 

vernon: ??? ive said it now tf

normal disney enjoyer: and im happy u have ;)

Well. Vernon sighed a little, trying to focus back on his work, but to no avail.

Let’s see what you have in store for the next week.

VERNON WAS WONDERING WHETHER HE STILL HAD TIME TO KILL HIMSELF. 

It could be quick—maybe if he jumped in front of the next incoming car, full speed, he might suffer a haemorrhage in his brain, and die bleeding out as his parents took him to the hospital. Of course, that does mean that it would be slow and excruciating, but he thought that nothing would be as painful as whatever you had planned for him.

Come on…maybe it won’t be that bad. Perhaps his thoughts were spiralling too quickly. Perhaps his assumptions of you were a stretch, and that all this anxiousness, pent up in him, would wash away the moment he saw your car pulling up to the store’s driveway.

He felt himself prepare mentally as, eventually, your small, red car slowed in front of him. Right before him, he saw the passenger window roll down, and he caught sight of your smiling face, teeth showing. 

Perhaps it truly would not be as bad as he imagined. 

“Get in loser, we’re going trespassing.”

Nevermind.

“Oh my God,” was the unsatisfying answer to your perfect reference. Seriously, you should not bother saving your precious material on such a lame boy, but there was something so exciting about his eyes sharply rolling, colour staining the tops of his cheeks. “I’m not doing this if you’re going to quote terrible movies the entire night.”

“First of all, fuck you. Mean Girls birthed half of your customers.” You flicked the lock on the passenger door, pushing it open. “Second, you don’t have a choice. You’ve agreed to ruin Mingyu’s life.”

“First of all yourself, I did not agree to that.” Begrudgingly, he settled shotgun, snapping the car door shut. “Second, Mean Girls was a waste of Rachel McAdams’ talent.” 

You scoffed, starting the car. “I don’t take opinions from men who can’t drive.” 

This shut the boy up nicely, clamping his lips together in quiet shame. He wished he could argue with that—you, he feared, had a good point. Despite that, it was not his fault that his parents insisted on the reliance of public transport; the bus was his greatest villain—aside from the middle school kids in his store that always ask for the next FIFA game. 

You could not help taking a second glance at him, chuckling at his defeat. “Don’t be sad, Mr. FIlmbro,” you reassured him, changing gears. “I like my men a little pathetic.” 

That did not help at all—his eyes widened, gawking at you, but you were already looking ahead, pressing your foot on the accelerator. 

“Jesus!” he exclaimed as he held onto his seat, taken aback by your sudden rush of speed. “I thought you wanted to kill Mingyu, not yourself!”

“My bad,” you only said, turning right. “I’m just so excited! You know, getting there.” 

“I can see that,” he mumbled, looking away from you into the back. Strapped in with the seatbelt, bizarrely, was Sofia’s Disney Princess Set, as if the dozen-movie box was a toddler in need of extra assistance. What the fuck…?

“I’m having these films in pristine condition, Vernon,” you explained, though it still made no sense in his head. “You understand, don’t you?”

Of course not. “Sure.” 

He waited for further explanation, which, as the silence continued, you decided to throw him the conversational bone. “I don’t just carry the set around with me, you know.”

Sure. “Of course not.” 

“It’s relevant to today’s plan,” was all you would offer, speeding more to reach the destination quicker. Vernon held onto the belt a little tighter, still eyeing the movie set rather suspiciously before focusing back on the road. 

The drive was not long—perhaps thirty minutes at most—but he knew he was leaving the rougher parts of the city when nicer neighbourhoods welcomed his vision, the litter on the roads disappearing, instead trees in an orderly line painting the sides of the pavement. The further you drove into these suburbs, the more he was surprised at the sheer luxury of the exterior of these houses; granted, he did not originate from poverty, but his idea of a holiday was three days in the comforts of his bed, bingeing the Miyazaki collection with a lifetime supply of mint chocolate chip ice cream on his lap. 

Vernon had to save his mouth dropping to the seat of the car floor when they rolled into the Kim household’s drive. 

He was aware that Mingyu derived from wealth—the former could not help noticing his pricey, flashy brands every time the taller boy sauntered into the Film Sound classes, but he did not expect this Bridgerton-ass looking house, nestled in between the other million-dollar homes in the neighbourhood. He was greeted with a clearer picture the closer you parked in their drive, surprisingly empty; it was around that moment that you noticed that all the lights were turned off in the house, almost a haunting image. 

The boy was on his way to make a comment about your terrible spying skills when you rebuffed him immediately, saying, “I know what you’re thinking. I have it covered.”

“Please tell me, Miss Bond, how are you planning to carry this out?”

You offered him an incredulous look. “I don’t know what that reference means, I’m too pretty.”

His answer to that was a thin, long line of his mouth. You chose to ignore it completely. “Mingyu’s parents are out of town right now, and his sister’s on a ski-trip in Austria.”

A glance of confusion. “In the middle of March?” 

A shrug. “You know what rich people are like.” Weirdly enough, he knew exactly what you were talking about. “But it worked out great for us.” With a hard exhale you got out of the car, the boy beside you reflecting your actions. “All the easier for what we have to do.” You opened the car door behind the driver’s one, unstrapping the seatbelt and carefully bringing out the movie set. 

“How’re we getting into the evil lair, then?” he asked dryly, crossing both his arms. “I assume the millionaires don’t happen to put a spare key under the carpet?”

“Imagine,” you said, sighing melodramatically. “I tried making them do it so I could sneak into his house, but for some reason, Mingyu never agreed to it.” 

“I wonder why,” he muttered.

“Worry not, young grasshopper!” You strolled to the very right of the house, where a thin wooden door was almost hidden from view. “Where there is a door closed, another is mysteriously open.” 

With a hard push, the door trudged back, swinging heavily away. He stared at it, not quite believing how someone can be so careless to keep their gates unlocked. “Another weakness of Mingyu’s—” You pointed at the cleared path into the house—”whenever he leaves from the garden, he never locks the gate.”

Vernon could not quite believe it. “Either the wealthy are incredibly secured in their safety, or stupid as fuck.”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you joked, going further into the journey, ushering him over. Like a siren calling his name, he followed you, unaware of the shit you might be getting him into. 

Into the fancy garden they arrived, clean-cut hedges bordering in dozens of flower bushes, peppered also with a few fruit trees—berries of every kind ripening on the green. While Vernon admired the natural luxury, you hurried to the nearby shed, where a ladder was situated right beside it. “Quick, help me out here!” you shouted in a whisper, ushering him over. Dropping the DVD set for a moment, you grunted as you held the large ladder up with his assistance, slowly making its way to the brick wall of the house. “Wait, line it up against that window over there,” you instructed, jerking your head towards the far right window, no doubt on the second floor. Once the ladder was lined up properly, you moved the boy out of the way, shaking the rails to make sure it stayed put. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Vernon muttered, watching you take the Disney Princess set in one hand, the other making the first step on the calendar. “We can still…you know, not commit breaking and entering.” 

“You can happily leave, Mr. Filmbro,” you offered, looking up at your destination. 

That had him scoffing. “My ass is not walking two hours back to my house.” 

“That seems more like a you problem then!” you chirped. “Now are you following me up, or pussying out?”

Once again, pussying out seemed like the obvious choice for the boy. He was not made for missions such as these—he was merely meant to watch other people act out said missions in front of his television. Unfortunately, because he was too far away from the film store, it was either sitting it out, waiting for you to come out and do something diabolical, or at least watch over you should you cross a line (if the latter were the case, then Vernon had already failed). 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he kept uttering like a mantra, waiting for you to climb up enough to hold onto the ladder as he began to follow after you. He made the mistake of looking up as you climbed up, and he got a full, HD view of your ass. He tried his very best to look away out of some semblance of respect, but you also made the mindful decision of wearing the shortest skirt known to man. His fuck, fuck fucks! rang louder, causing you to shush him.

“Stop freaking out, my guy!” you called out, right on the top of the ladder. “I know my ass is crazy built but this is not the time.”

“That’s not why I’m freaking out, _____!” he countered, but knowing you, you did not care for his explanations. He only waited as you pushed open the slight-open window, all the way to the top before climbing inside.

As he reached the top of the ladder, he watched you dust yourself before glancing back at him, ushering him inside. “Here goes nothing,” he said to himself, hands on the top of the window ledge as he put his foot on the sill, pushing himself inside. 

Vernon dropped into the unknown room, an oof! leaving his mouth as he landed rather ungraciously on his feet. Quickly, he looked up, surroundings rather dimmed due to the lack of lighting. Still, with the help of the moonlight, he could slowly make out the huge smart TV in the middle of the bedroom, beneath it a wide shelf filled with DVDs, some opened and scattered on the carpeted floor. The bed was on the opposite side, right next to the window the two of you had entered in, black and gold sheets tousled and unmade.

As you turned the light on, the boy then made out that Mingyu, in fact, did not have a bed frame, but just a mattress, with the sheets barely done properly.  The wall on his left was a full black-shutter closet, where he could see the collection of his designer clothing behind the gaps. Posters were plastered on the rest of the walls, most of them being the Tarantino classics —a reclined, raven-bobbed Uma Thurman watching him with bedroom eyes being the most prominent—with certain papers of autographs also stuck next to the posters. There was another poster—American Beauty and the girl surrounded with rose petals—which had him quickly looking away.

“Jesus,” was all he could say, but he supposed he should not have judged. He himself had only his posters in his room—except he did not have the same taste as a middle-aged incel.

“I know.” You looked around at the familiar space, and the memories you had made here. “Imagine having sex in this hellsite.”

Then the image of you having sex with Mingyu on that messy bed came into his mind, and Vernon could have combusted then and there. “I can’t imagine,” he mumbled out, walking to the door, opening to make sure no one was inside. “_____, are you sure no one’s here?”

“Swear on my life, Mr. Filmbro.”

He had to trust you now—or you had very little respect for your life. 

He kept eyeing the DVD set you had in your hand. “Are you still not gonna tell me what we’re doing with that?”

You marched over to the shelf beneath the TV, settling yourself down. “Come here and I’ll show you.” You patted the empty carpet space next to you for added emphasis.

Hesitantly, he obliged, sitting cross-legged next to you. Finger pointing as it scoured the shelf, you carefully brought out one of the films from Mingyu’s selection, all the while sliding out a Disney film from your own set. “Now, tell me,” you began, as you showed him the two movies. “Do you think The Dark Knight and Mulan are a good match?”

First pulling a face at the choice, he then resorted to keeping his twist of features as he turned to you. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“So like, you know Mulan is a woman disguising herself as a soldier in order to defeat the Huns and save her father’s honour, right,” you explained, though you had a small feeling he was not particularly listening. “And Batman is the same thing, except he dresses up as a fucking bat…stupid furry.”

Vernon could not understand how you compared one of the most beautiful, nuanced depictions of a broken, three-dimensional superhero into a furry, but he needed to get to the bottom of your plan, once and for all. “No, I mean, what are you doing? Why the hell are we here?” 

You tutted extra loud. “I’m gonna swap the CDs, dumbass!” You held up the princess movie. “Thought Mingyu could say to me that Disney princess movies sucked, huh?” Then, the classic DVD’s turn to rise. “Let’s see how he’ll like watching a talking dragon in China instead of a talking bat in Fantasyland!” 

The boy could only watch, shock growing with the successful swap of the movies, the secret Mulan CD safely tucked into the The Dark Knight’s DVD case. “It’s Gotham, actually,” he murmured, but he knew you were not listening. “Wait, _____, we really just snuck into your ex’s house to swap a few movies?”

You looked up briefly as you began opening another DVD case. “I mean, if you want to trash the place, that’s fine, but you can’t do anymore than what Mingyu’s dirty ass hasn’t done already.”

Fair point. “I think you’re going insane. Like, clinically.” He kept looking at the door, which was closed shut. “He’ll kill us if he catches us.” 

“Forget about us, you’re barely doing anything!” you exclaimed, tossing some of Mingyu’s movies to him. “Can you actually help me instead of complaining?”

What he should have done was argue with you properly, perhaps even make his escape and leave you to dig your own grave. Sure, he could not drive, but was it not just three pedals, a wheel and a dream? He could have left, never to see you again. 

But then his eyes wandered to the Inception DVD scattered beside you, no doubt collateral damage as you took out the other Nolan films, and saw a Disney Princess movie sitting beside it. Sleeping Beauty, it read out, with the picture of some skinny blonde chick slumbering with a man overlooking her. He thought it a bit strange, almost creepy how this brunette was watching her. 

And then an idea came into his head. 

He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, clamping his lips together. Please forgive me, Mr. Nolan, for what I’m about to do. 

Hand reaching out to grasp both DVDs, he opened one of his favourites, unclipping the CD. You glanced at him, swapping the movies around. You could not help your stare lingering a little, watching his lips pout, brows furrowed as he fixed the new CD in the Nolan set, as if the task was a serious one. Well, it was a serious task for you, but you expected more complaining. 

When he looked up, he managed to catch a small smile on your lips before he quickly looked away. “And now you’re slacking,” he accused, closing the DVD and setting it atop the newly improved. 

“What’s the plot for Inception?” you asked him, cracking open The Princess and The Frog. 

“I thought you knew, since you laughed at me for saying it was my favourite.” 

“I don’t know the full thing,” you admitted. “The only reason I knew about it was because Mingyu never shut up about it…sorry about that, by the way.” 

Vernon sighed. “It’s fine…if I made fun of your Disney favourites, then bullying me for Nolan isn’t the worst…I think.” He looked at your new suggestion before picking out Alien from Mingyu’s selection. “A thief has to implant an idea into this powerful guy’s mind, and he does this through infiltrating other people’s dreams. However, he has to be asleep while he does it.” 

As you began to laugh, he threw you an irritated look. You shook your head, unable to erase your smile. “That’s a really good match.” 

His eyes widened for a moment, mouth parting. For a moment (and he did not know whether he was going to regret making this assertion), he did not care for Christopher Nolan’s disrespect, after seeing your reaction.

With that, the two of you sat in near silence, the crisp opening and closing of the DVDs, the sliding of the discs being the only sound between the two of you. The Princess of the Frog was successfully matched with the Alien—you, unsurprisingly, had not watched the movie, but Vernon had watched both (one against his will, which you could guess), and thought it the best match. Brave was slotted into The Revenant's case, while Beauty and the Beast went straight into Pan’s Labyrinth’s. 

“Okay so…” the boy held up the Pocahontas CD. “Native American princess falls for the coloniser? How the fuck are you defending this?”

You could only offer a sheepish smile. “The soundtrack is really good?”

“Knowing Disney,” he crowed, cracking open the DVD, “They probably have a song on how terrible the poor Natives are.”

You eyed him, surprised. “How the hell did you guess that?”

First, Vernon made a face, as if he himself could not believe his excellent intuition. Then, he only laughed a little, taking out the Dances with Wolves DVD from the shelf. “I’ve watched enough Disney movies with my sister to know how they work.”

“Oh, so you have watched them?” you mused, watching him exchange the discs. “All that time I thought you only watched what Mingyu watched.”

“No, I watch foreign indie films like an asshole,” he clarified, shutting the cases, and putting Dances with Wolves back on the shelf. “The thing is, I still have my grievances against the super popular films. You know the list you mentioned to me the other day?” You nodded. “Most of these film junkies get off on those movies. I’ll admit I like them, but I’ve seen so much better.” 

You snorted. “Like Inception?” Vernon watched you for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. “What? You asked him, tilting your head. 

He followed your movement—he too, craned his head, his brown curls cascading along his forehead. “Like Inception…and better.”

“Better?” you gasped out, fingers rising to your bottom lip in shock. “Does Mr. Filmbro prefer a movie over Nolan’s grand—no, best release ever?!”

“Ha, ha,” he monotoned, only adding to your amusement. “It’s still his best film! But,” he added, shrugging a little, “I may or may not have lied to you the first time we met. Inception’s not my favourite movie.”

“What?!” you could barely contain your grin. “Oh my God, if I find out it’s a fucking Disney movie, I’m never letting you live it down!”

“Let’s not go that far,” he jeered, earning a harsh nudge of your elbow. “Hey! You should be thanking me for my honesty.”

“How about you extend that honesty and tell me which movie is your favourite?” 

Vernon mocked a ponder. “It’s a hard pass.” 

“Come on!” you pressed, scooting a little closer, almost reaching out as if to nudge him some more. “You’ve already committed a felony with me. Telling me your favourite movie is naturally the next step.” 

“Because that’s obviously how normal human interaction goes,” he countered, sarcasm clear in his voice.

“Tell me.” 

“No.”

“Tell me!” 

“Hmm…no!” he repeated, assembling the last of the DVDs. “Maybe if we raid Mingyu’s house next time.”

“Oh?” Leaning closer, you paused his hands on the movie sets. “Do you want there to be a next time?”

It was then Vernon realised the implications of your question, a consequence of his own suggestion. It was almost comical, how his eyes widened like full moons, and he immediately shook his head. “Now you know that’s not what I meant.” 

“Then what did you mean?” you asked him, and the way he exposed a slight stutter at your question had you laughing. “Would you want to see me again?”

What Vernon wanted to tell you was no, no, no, because another second with you would end with all the blood in his system rushing to his head, and other places. Damn everything and everyone, he would want to see you again—no. No. He wouldn’t. He would not. 

“You haven’t answered the question,” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

The boy was about to stutter out an answer when the two of you heard a door slam downstairs. 

You whirled back, eyes instantly darting to the door. They then focused back on you, widened very much like his not long ago. “_____,” Vernon muttered. 

“Mr. Filmbro…”

The furrow of his brow appeared for a split-second before it disappeared at the shuffling underneath. “What the fuck do we do?” he gulped out, looking around to find anywhere to escape from. This was it—he thought he was getting away with trespassing just because you had convinced him to, but that fuckass ex-boyfriend was going to catch them in his bedroom, two inches away from kissing you, and—

“Wait,” you then said, catching his wrist in your hand. He barely had time to react to it before you shot up from your seated position, hauling the boy along with you. He stumbled, but then you nearly made him fall flat on his face as you ran to the shutter closets, sliding them straight open. The inside was a mess of branded clothing and boxes of sports equipment, but there was one opening with just enough for two people in trouble to hide. 

You first went in, and, with a harsh tug, pulled him in with you. He crashed into you, but you had enough control to slide the shutter door shut. There was so much commotion that when you both finally stilled, breathing harshly as you heard Mingyu enter the room, Vernon blinked back to see your face about two inches away from him. 

He was going to yelp—strong on going to, because you sensed his incoming shock, and smacked your hand against his mouth. His eyebrows could have touched the top of his forehead, but what you noticed the most was the warmth of his skin, burning the longer your touch lingered on his lips. 

The smile you offered him as you put a finger to your lips had him almost passing out. 

“Yeah, man, come round whenever,” was all Vernon could hear, still not comprehending Mingyu’s speech due to your hand. “No, Minseo’s not here, what the fuck? Why do you wanna know where my sister is?” 

Slowly, ever so carefully as not to alert him, you pulled down on one of the blinds of the shutter, spying the movie which he was about to see. Vernon should have been following your movements, but he could only sense you, inching closer and closer to him till you were pressed against him. Of course, you were only trying to better your vision of your ex-boyfriend, but the boy beside you could not focus. The hand on his mouth—God—he needed, so badly, to be put down. Your fingers were soft, and although his lips could not help brushing against your palm, everything in him resisted the urge to react.

Quickly glancing at your accomplice in glee, you dropped your hand from his mouth, silently urging him to watch. He could have rebelled against your pulling away, but he instead obliged. Bringing his face next to yours, he glanced at you one last time before peering at the vision that welcomed. 

There he was, the golden boy, raking his hair as he strolled into the middle of the room, observing the TV before him, and the DVD player sitting at the bottom. He kept humming, as if agreeing with whoever was on the phone. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go to that party later…no, I’m not bringing _____! You know about that already!” 

The boy in hiding quickly snuck a peek at you, who soured a little at the mention. “Hmm? Yeah, whatever. What? Nah, I’m just gonna watch a chill movie before leaving.” Mingyu scanned the films on his shelf. Walking over, he leaned down, sliding out The Shape of Water from his collection, cradling his phone between his shoulder blade and his craned head as he opened the DVD. 

Vernon could not help pulling a face at Mingyu’s choice of a ‘chill movie’ being a film about a mute woman wanting to fuck a water creature. You probably did not understand the reference, but by the growing anticipation on your face, you only cared about the scene you two had created, and was about to unfold just then. 

Mingyu slid the CD into the player, pressing play as he made his way to his frameless bed, settling down in the sheets. “Yeah…no, no, it’s just starting.”

The two of you could hear clearly the opening credits, which began with the most obnoxious opening music of Disney’s intro. Vernon was taken aback by how Mingyu did not realise it from that very moment, but considering he was too busy chatting pure shit on the phone, laughing to himself, the boy assumed he was simply waiting for the action to occur.

“Any minute now, Mr. Filmbro,” you whispered, oh-so-fucking close to him. He did not respond, merely a nod.

Craning his head to see through the shutters, he noticed the animation come to life, the ship within dangerous waters sailing with uncertainty. He snuck a quick glance at Mingyu’s face, which started garnering a little confusion. 

“Are these extra credit scenes? I don’t remember any of this,” he heard the OG filmbro complain. 

You could not help the snort that escaped you. Vernon glared at you, but with little effect. “What?” you whispered. “I don’t remember him being this thick.” 

“What the fuck is this cartoon…” the two of you heard Mingyu pipe up. Finally, the buffoon is realising this is not the two-time Oscar winning animation, but the four-time Oscar winning CGI. “This wasn’t in the director’s cut.”

You still could not believe how your ex-boyfriend was taking this long for the realisation to hit. Even when Eric jumped up on the screen, holding onto the ship’s ropes, the watcher only regarded the character intently, as if he was somehow part of the stranger film. 

Only when, fifteen minutes in, Atlantis is finally introduced that something clicked in his brain. Mingyu tilted his head, thinking out loud. “What the fuck…?”

Getting up from where he sat, he ended the call, informing whoever was on the other side that he would meet later. He took out the CD from the player, examining its exterior. “Can’t see shit on this CD…” He was not wrong—you were smart, choosing the discs which did not have any images, confusing the boy all the more. “Maybe I put in the wrong one…”

He shrugged it off, taking out The Dark Knight instead, another easy, breezy movie to watch when The Shape of Water did not pull through. Now Nolan was a hard one to criticise—Vernon himself was a huge fan, but seeing Mingyu try to watch it irked him. A good thing, then, was it not, that he was bound for a second surprise?

Repeating the routine, he slid the secret CD, settling back into his frameless bed. “Great minds, huh?” you whispered to him, and Vernon only rolled his eyes, not enjoying the dig against him in the slightest. 

“You dated him,” he griped, watching the movie start up.

“Waste of good looks,” you whispered, your partner-in-crime nodding in agreement. The movie beginning had you both falling silent as a bird of prey hits on one of the soldier’s heads. The scene is set in the cold mountains of China, but the sole audience does not catch it immediately. 

“So fucking weird…” Mingyu trailed off again, leaning forwards. “This isn’t the robbery scene…”

Of course it was not—the idiot would not witness one of the best film openings in Vernon’s humble opinion. He would not feast his eyes to the workings of Joker’s bank robbery, nor the cold one-liners from the incapacitated bank manager. 

No, what he was served was the Huns crossing the Northern border, which, as the boy finally began to clock after a good ten minutes, was not what he was expecting.

“What the…” once again, he heaved himself up, walking over to the player. “Now I know something’s wrong…”

Both you and Vernon stretched further close, as much as the closet would allow, to peek at Mingyu’s frustration as he brought the CD out once more, examining the back and front. He then took out some more of his favourites, opening their cases and taking out the CDs, observing them closely. He was suspicious now. How could he not be, when he was expecting incel excellence, but was greeted with the same shit his younger sister—his crazy ex-girlfriend, even—would usually watch.

He blinked back. 

His deathly stillness had the two trespassers pausing. You two looked at each other, faces losing any humour, perhaps recognising that he had clocked on. You watched the scene as Mingyu rapidly added one CD after another, expecting one movie only to have a Disney-fied replacement, completely botching his plans. Every movie that received such Disneyfication further enraged him, the grit in his teeth heard, the tick in his jaw visible. 

The final straw was when the Godfather was slotted in, his all-time, unmatched favourite. There was darkness for the first few minutes, and he sighed too quickly in relief, about to lay back on his mattress. 

Then, a curly-haired girl, a toddler at best, in huge green glasses becomes visible, being told to open her eyes. 

“Is this where magic comes from?”

“What the fuck?!”

And as a conversation between the little girl and her elderly grandmother blossomed, there was a specific dialogue which sent the young boy over the edge.

“This candle became a magical flame that would never grow out…and it blessed us with a refuge in which to live…a place of wonder…An Encanto.”

You nearly burst out laughing. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, could have seen red. 

“Who fucked with my CDs?!” he demanded to no one in particular, though in his mind he knew there was a culprit. “My fucking CDs, man!” 

“Did you do the Godfather swap?” you whispered, barely able to contain yourself.

“Two special families with one heir that doesn’t feel connected to their lifestyle.” Vernon grinned at you, impressed with himself. “It was too easy.”

“Where did you even find the Encanto DVD? It wasn’t in our set.” 

“I found it in his little filmbro shelf.” He ticked his head towards the boy in physical agony. “My guess is that his sister is a Disney fan and left it in his mancave.”

“Oh my God,” you got out, watching the melodramatic scene of your dear ex show rage akin to a teenage boy losing Call of Duty online. 

“That fucking bitch,” he guttered, over and over again as he threw the Encanto CD across the room. Those words came out, and the boy behind the shutters stiffened. Okay—there is rage, and then there is straight up promise of violence. Vernon may not be much of a knight, but if they were caught, he knew he would have to protect you.

He hoped to everything that existed that it would not have to come to that—Vernon would rather fake having a heart attack and have you drag his body out of the Kim Manor. 

It seemed as that might have been a real possibility, until the boy called out a threat to a name they were not expecting.

“Minseo, I’m gonna kill you!” Mingyu roared as he stormed out of the room, undoubtedly on his way to destroy her room, even take his anger out on her Jellycat collection.

As you heard his frenzy disappear down the halls, the trespassers took this as the opportunity to escape the closet, Vernon already creating a little distance in case you come too close and cause his passing out.

“We need to get out now,” he declared as you crept out of the wardrobe, his head whipping to the door which Mingyu left from. 

You nodded, not quite looking at him as you dashed straight for the final DVD. “Oh, Jesus,” He groaned, watching you scramble for the movie, trying horrifically to hide it within your clothes. “You do realise he can come in any second!” 

“Okay, okay,” you said, hurrying over to the window. “Wait, you can go first.”

Vernon raised a brow, following after you. “How come you don’t want to go first?”

You only ushered him further, grinning. “You can peek at my ass again.”

“My eyes will be closed,” he sniped, already carrying it out, trying his absolute best not to imagine your ass in his mind—maybe stakeouts for goofy purposes were not for the weak-willed. “You know, just for that alone, you’re going down first.” 

“Whatever suits you, Mr. Filmbro,” you almost chanted, aggravating him all the more as you stepped out of the window, beginning the trek down. 

He looked down as you descended with one film in hand, still stealing glances at the only door in the room, terrified that the boy would burst through the door, see you both and bring about his downfall. Subconsciously, his fingers hovered just before his mouth, biting the skin around his nails. He knew he should have run himself over with an oncoming vehicle. A messy plan, but still fool-proof. 

“Stop panicking and come down here!” your voice snapped him out of his anxious frenzy. “I know you’re biting your nails off right now!”

The boy instantly repelled his hand, instead furrowing his brow. A little irritating—scary, as well, really—how predictable he was in your eyes. How quickly you had figured him out.

“Alright,” he said, absent-mindedly as he reached for the windowsill. He peaked down again, not realising how far down the descent truly was. Rationally, he knew it was not the worst drop he’d seen on the first floor, but the nerves had started affecting his mind. Now, this entire time he was watching you take one step, two steps down, but he did not have the strength to follow you. 

Still, he knew it was now or never.

Vernon was going to be at your heels (or, more anatomically correct, at your head) when he heard a shuffle from behind him.

He whipped his head around, anticipating the worst.

The worst arrived in all his golden-skinned, empty-headed glory. Holding one of his DVDs, Kim Mingyu stood at the doorway, his eyes widening with every second they beheld the intruder, one leg out of the house, the other a moment away from heaving him up.

Oh. Jesus. Christ.

“The nerd from film theory?”

Vernon’s face dropped. 

The Nerd from Film Theory? The Nerd from fucking Film Theory? 

It was then and there, in that exact moment of time, that the filmbro in question did not give a single care for what the popular boy thought of him. Vernon knew everything about this boy (whether he wanted to or not); his every class, his every terrible friend, even his film preferences, thanks to yours truly. Yet Mingyu did not even know his name—did not even bother to remember.

It was because of that that he managed to garner some essence of his bravado, finally settling both feet on the ladder steps. 

He also decided to add in some corrections to Mingyu’s knowledge. 

“Jo March did not need any man after Laurie…in fact, she did not need any male support, asshole.”

For added effect, he raised his middle finger, as if the burn was sick enough to hurt. 

Mingyu’s devastating response was a confused tilt of his head, clearly not understanding his reference. 

It was enough time for Vernon to hurry his descent down, catching the former more off guard. 

“What the fuck—” was all the boy heard before he quickly tried to travel downwards, feet nearly slipping on the steps by his sheer carelessness. Mingyu’s head popped out from the window, and saw the great ladder leaning against the sill, shocked gaze lowering to where Vernon was descending to.

When his eyes found yours, he could have choked on his gulp. Even more so when you smirked at him.

“_____?”

As Vernon finally dropped off the ladder, dusting himself off, he watched the two of you, staring each other down. When he gauged Mingyu’s fear of you, there was a small part of him that was filled with admiration.

Mingyu’s demand sounded more like a whimper. “What are you doing here?”

You only curled your lips further upwards, grinning like a wild animal. It chilled your ex-boyfriend to the bone when you held the Tangled CD up for him to see, with your other hand raising your middle finger. 

“This is for calling me a stupid bitch.”

His mouth dropped open. That gave you just enough time to grab onto Vernon’s hand, enveloping your fingers around his wrist. 

And run for your life.

Vernon let out a yelp as he was yanked forward by your hold, barely hearing Mingyu’s loud curses and retreating back into the house, no doubt to follow after you two—the trespasser could only guess, much too occupied by your hand, a guiding beacon of mischief, never absent in his life as you ran and ran and ran out of the garden, out of the sleek maze which you two first entered, catching sight of the open garden gate.

The boy heard distant footsteps coming from the house, and as you both saw your car parked beyond the greater gates, you fished out your keys, finally letting go of his hand to dash over to the driver’s side, jamming the key in the lock. Vernon let out a startled noise as the car unlocked, wasting no time to jump inside, heart beating loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear. Mingyu appeared at the main doorstep at the exact same time, even more shocked to realise he had not noticed his ex-girlfriend’s car casually parked before him. 

Just as you climbed inside, swivelling the keys into ignition, Mingyu began to run after the car, a mere ten seconds between him and catching you two.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _____, just start it already!” the nervous boy in shotgun begged, his head swivelling back at every chance, heart lurching at every metre closer the filmnemesis crept.

The car revved to life at your signal.

It was time to get the fuck out of here. 

“GO, GO, GO!” Vernon screamed at the top of his voice, fisting the handle at the roof of the car as you slammed on the accelerator, racing out of the driveway with Mingyu’s bellowing following after you. Of course, since he was a mere, enraged college student, and you both were in a (slight) state-of-the-art vehicle, you zoomed out of the neighbourhood, his curses fading with every turn further out, you managing to escape. 

Vernon, because he had never done such a thing before, was still screaming to leave for the next ten minutes until you had had enough, swerving to the side of the road, not far from his DVD store. You almost crashed into the nearby park, frightening a few birds that expected peace within the sidewalk trees, only to be disturbed by a troublesome ex and a film-obsessed loser. 

You gushed out an exhale, fingers gripping tightly to the wheel, almost as stunned as the boy beside you, who seemed to take in the town’s worth of air in his little body. But then, you realised the gravity of the situation, the sole movie at the back which could not be swapped, and the valiant escape from something you never thought you would come out of alive.

Just then, you burst into laughter. 

The boy whirled his head to you, who could not stop the tumbles of laughter that escaped your mouth, hanging on to the car wheel as you cackled and cackled like the Wicked Witch of the West. Well, that was what you thought you sounded at that time, but you, as always, did not care.

Only that you were wrong—at least in Vernon’s eyes. You were wrong, because if you were laughing like some Disney villain, then he would have been more pissed off—enraged even. He was instead in awe, shocked at the raw guffawing that spluttered out of you without shame. Had the two of you not evaded a great danger? Nearly been arrested for your legally ambiguous behaviour? 

For the first time in his life, he was not embroiled with dread. 

There was no anxiety in his body, no essence of panic at the consequences of your actions. No, he could only stare at you and your mirth, and find himself raising his brows, the beginnings of a scoffed laugh creeping from his lips. 

The more he looked at you, the more his own laughter joined yours. 

And then you were both laughing, giggling beyond control at the narrow escape, and the near crash against some tree. Vernon knew how stupid this whole situation was, but strangely, he did not seem to care—not when you did not see it like that. A very odd prospect. 

After a few minutes, when it finally seemed as if you would settle down, you sighed, leaning back into the driver’s seat. “We should do that again.”

Despite the amusement lingering, he immediately shut the idea down. “Not a chance.”

You admired the ancient lining of the tree’s bark in front of the car. “The way you were laughing with me just now, you’d think you want to commit crimes from now on.” 

A dramatic roll of eyes. “I’m not going to jail. They don’t even have a TV there.”

“You and your fuck ass movie collection…”

That brought out another chuckle from the boy—you smiled at the notion. He then looked at the rearview mirror, where the last movie was splayed, all alone and away from the others. “Kind of a shame we missed out on one last movie.”

“Right?” You followed his line of sight. “Fuck, Tangled of all movies?”

“Wait, isn’t that the one with Rapunzel?” 

You let out an impressed hum. “A week of seeing my face, and you’re already catching on!” A mischievous raise of brows. “Another month with me and you can sing all the tracks from the film.”

“You really shouldn’t have this much faith in me, _____,” he said, shaking his head. “Plus, this might be the one movie I didn’t watch with Sofe.” He saw you perk up at the new name. “My sister. She’s the one who forced me to watch all those Disney films years ago.”

“I like her already,” you mused, a finger on your chin. You paused for a bit, looking down at your shoes, settled lightly upon the pedals. Then, you started the engine once more.  “So…Tangled is the only one you haven’t watched, huh.” 

A glance at you. “Yep.” 

You looked back, hoping to reverse away from the tree. “Right…” You checked your watch, the car slowly moving out of the pavement. “Interesting…super duper interesting.”

It was something insane, fantastical the way Vernon’s nerves seemed to hum at the implications. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“What? I just said that it’s interesting you’ve never watched Tangled…”

The boy scoffed, crossing his arms. “This is where you’re gonna force me to watch the stupid movie.” 

But then he caught the look of surprise on your face, as if you had been caught. “Oh, Jesus, you’re not gonna let me out the car, are you?”

“No, no!” you countered at once, raising your hands. “Well, yes as in I was hoping you would watch the movie with me, and no, I won’t force you.” You sighed a little, fingers back on the wheel. “You’ve already done so much today. If you want to go home, I’ll drive you straight there.”

He watched your expression, the prepared acceptance, the anticipation—the sliver of hope, hiding itself amongst the flurry of other emotions. In all honesty, he was tired; the entirety of this evening had exhausted his social battery (which he doubted he had to begin with) and he still had some sound image work left back at the college studio. If it was any other person asking, he would have happily bunked them off—pretended that he had suddenly developed a terminal illness in the span of minutes, and begged them to drive him back home to ‘live out the rest of his days’.

You, on the other hand, were a problem. He could not let you down—not anymore. Not after today.

When he let out a soft sigh, you were anticipating the worst. Then, he revealed the answer. 

“Let’s watch a fucking Disney Princess movie.”

VERNON DID NOT WANT TO WATCH A FUCKING DISNEY PRINCESS MOVIE. 

The moment you opened the door to your house—a shabby, student house about twenty minutes from campus—stepping inside, he realised there was no way back, and that he had to humour your wish, or else lose respect in your eyes. 

As you brought him down the small hallway, leading into the little living room, you quickly grabbed the takeout boxes of your flatmates, murmuring hurried apologies as you left the room. The boy looked around, the slight cracks of the blue walls, the 32” TV sitting at the opposite end of the fraying couches. Posters of Bridget Jones, Notting Hill, and other Hugh Grant movies were plastered on one end of the wall, while Vernon nearly had a jumpscare when he caught a life-size cardboard cutout of some Disney hero—this one unrecognisable. 

“That’s the love of my life you’re staring at,” came the voice behind him, and he whirled to see you, a huge bowl of popcorn cradled in your hands. “Why’re you standing in the middle like an idiot? Sit, sit!” Vernon obliged, making to settle on the sofas when you tutted. “Are you mental? No, sit on the bean bags near the TV!” 

How stupid of me to assume I could sit on furniture designed for sitting, he meant to crow, but the moment he settled on the bean bags, he instantly preferred their malleable comfort. When he let out a relaxed sigh, you huffed out a laugh, propping the bowl before him. “See?” 

“I was gonna say…” Vernon trailed off, watching you press a few buttons on the DVD player. “Where’s the CD?”

“Already in,” you said, picking up the remote as you settled in the beanbag next to him, scooting closer. Catching a look at his face, you bellowed, “Yes, Mr. Filmbro, I watched it recently!”

“How recently are we saying?”

“...yesterday evening.” 

“And this is the masterpiece you wanna show me,” Vernon murmured, sneaking a look back at the cardboard cutout. “Don’t tell me he’s the floozy that’s leading the film.” 

You turned the TV on. “Fine. I won’t tell you.”

He then looked at you. “Oh, Jesus.”

“Trust me!” you then reasoned, putting a hand on the boy’s knee—the mere touch had his brain rewiring, nerves all ceasing to work on the one point where your touch remained. You really had to stop—first your hand was on his mouth in that damned (blessed) closet, and now this soft reminder. He tried his best not to fix his eyes on your lingering fingers as you carried on, “This film is a modern classic. I promise.” 

Well shit, he thought. When you looked at him like that, you could have convinced him that Quentin Tarantino was a better foot fetishiser than a filmmaker. 

“Okay,” he said, almost believing in your words. 

With that, the landing page for the movie turned on, and there were the main characters; he assumed the chick with the long, blonde hair was Rapunzel, and the man behind her—which, Vernon thought, did not deserve to be celebrated as a life-sized cardboard cutout—was the love interest. Whatever. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” he mumbled as you pressed the fated Play, anticipating the worst. 

And as the two of you fell silent, Vernon still holding out on the popcorn, watching suspiciously at the screen, the voice of a man flooded the TV speaker.

“This…this is the story of how I died.” 

The boy immediately reacted, face dropping. “The fuck?” he got out, catching the WANTED! Poster of the very man he bad-mouthed not two minutes ago. 

“But don’t worry, this is actually a fun story…and the truth is…it isn’t even mine.” 

“Wait, this dude is already dead?” he asked.

“Just watch the movie!” you answered impatiently, making the boy sigh and lean back into the bean bag.

“This is the story of a girl named Rapunzel. And it starts…with the sun.”

You wanted to keep your eyes rooted to the screen, watch the unfurling of Mother Gothel’s backstory, but that was precisely when the incessant complaining began. 

“Now why are we already getting context of some random witch’s actions? Less telling, more showing, man!” Vernon kept his arms crossed, shaking his head at the TV. “Oh, great, poor little king and queen in their big ass castle!” 

“Having basic sympathy will take you great places, my guy,” you merely said, scoffing down the popcorn in the bowl. “Their kid just got stolen by some crazy bitch.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, piping down once more when the flashbacks ceased, and the present day was introduced into the story. On the screen, a small, green chameleon entered, camouflaging himself behind a pot of flowers. He guessed that the chick with the long hair—Rapunzel—would be finding him, and, lo and behold, he was right. In all fairness, though, it did not take a film degree to work that out.

He also did not need a film degree to guess that a musical number was about to be introduced, not even ten minutes into the movie. That he worked out all by himself, when the guitar riffs sounded. Beside him, you instantly brightened, smile widening as TANGLED morphed on the screen, the song about to begin. 

It was around that point when, as he spared you a glance, he realised you were about to sing along.

“Oh, Jesus—”

If his life was a romantic film, this would have been the perfect setup; the girl that made his heart flutter was seated dangerously close to him, bean bags already touching with shoulders barely following, watching the cheesiest animated movie. He could have seen the shot now, with his gaze turning rose-y as you would open your mouth and sing along to the song. Of course, you would sing beautifully, better than the original singer, and he would sit there, absolutely mesmerised. 

Oh, he was stunned alright. 

“SEVEN AM THE USUAL MORNING, LINE UP—!”

The boy flinched at the sheer volume of your chant—screech would be the better word for it, for he guessed singing was not one of your natural talents. 

You could not see his judgement at all, eyes closed and clutching your fists to your chest, continuing the song. “START ON THE FLOOR AND SWEEP TILL THE FLOOR’S ALL CLEEEEEANNNN—!”

A scoff escaped him, not quite believing the scene before him. He was shocked to silence, the movie’s music now in his background, the forefront being your attempt to outsing the princess. Either no one had told you how horrendous your singing was, or you simply did not care for the opinions of others. A part of him hoped that it was the latter—for you to be so comfortable in singing away, despite what others thought, made his judgement disappear. 

Shamelessly you sang the entire number, up to the point where the scene cuts and the supposedly hot love interest—whose name was Flynn Rider, apparently, which he should have known if he just read the poster at the start of the movie like a normal viewer—was now trying to steal the crown jewels. 

Vernon was too busy thinking about how stupid ‘Flynn Rider’ was as a name to realise that another song had just started. Immediately you changed your tune, your tone lowering, almost sultry. 

This time, you looked at him when you started singing. 

“Look at you, as fragile as a flower…”

“Ayo?” A glance at the TV screen, where Mother Gothel was now singing. “Another song?”

But you did not answer his question, only singing further as you reached your hand out to him. “Still a little sapling, just a sprout!” You continued, and, at that, your hand patted his mess of curls atop his head, mirroring Mother Gothel’s actions. 

Blinking back repeatedly, he could not even shrug it off, stunned once again by how you were casually able to touch him and not feel anything—while his entire system shuts down like a lagging desktop when it tries to run the Sims. 

The overdramatic flair was present in your singing, changed from the sweetness of the previous song. It was crazy how you remembered each word, not slipping at any chorus—you were a true fan, a committed admirer of the film. Even he could not comprehend knowing every single line of his favourites. 

It was admirable indeed—to love a film as you did this one.

It was what made Vernon smile a little, turning away from your melodrama and focusing on the screen, where Mother Gothel now threatened to never be asked to leave the tower. Again.

This time, he would give the movie a chance. Thank God he decided to wake up.

The movie picked up the pace instantly—he had not expected Flynn to meet—and be whacked out by Rapunzel’s frying pan—so quickly, and had reflected her dejection when the mother screamed at her. He could tell where this was going, especially with the thief now in the closet, but he found himself grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl without turning away from the screen.

By the time the third song of the movie came around, he was taken aback that it arrived further in, surrounded by the thugs of the Snuggly Duckling. Without realising, he turned to you, anticipating you breaking out into a song, but you were merely watching the movie, bobbing your head along to the beat.

Noticing his stare, you glanced at him. “Expecting a show?”

“Since you were giving them out without request, I figured this time would be like any other.”

You snorted, grabbing the popcorn. “I’m saving my heavenly voice for the best song, actually.”

Vernon mocked a gasp. “So you’re telling me Mother Knows Best isn’t the best feature?”

“Don’t chat shit, Mr. Filmbro, because Mother Knows Best is one of the top five.”

“I look forward to seeing which song you’re holding out for,” he only said, turning back to the movie again. The popcorn ran out about this time, and you shot up from your bean bag, promising more as you exited the room, leaving him to continue. 

By the time you returned, the protagonists were escaping, chaos ensuing all around them with the guards, his partners and that eccentric white horse chasing them. Ending up in the cave, they recognise a lack of way out, and although Vernon was aware that the movie ends on the happiest note, a small part of him filled with dread. 

That dread disappeared instantly when Flynn confessed his little secret.

“Eugene Fitzherbert?!” The boy demanded.

You chuckled at his disdain. “Yeah, Flynn Rider was hotter. Eugene Fitzherbert ages him about forty years.”

“Flynn Rider was silly, but Eugene is straight up diabolical.” 

“He is still fuckable regardless!” you shushed him, raising your pointer at him. “You wish you had his sex appeal.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let me just change my name to Bartholomew Whiteman real quick.”

“Hey!” you whacked him on the arm, this time laughing heartily at his quip. “Let my man live!”

He decided to spare your fictional man any more bullying, taking in the town atmosphere where the two adventurers and Maximus had now ended up. “Ooooo, the castle dances are my favourite scenes!” you gushed, scooping popcorn in one hand and eating with the other. “Wait, look, look at the braid!”

“Jeez, I’m looking!” he insisted, watching the girls braid Rapunzel’s hair. Flynn—which Vernon is continuing to identify him as, because Eugene was too much for him—stared at her longingly at the results. Vernon used the popcorn as an excuse to gaze at you matching Flynn’s longing at the screen. Your head rested on your knees, locking your hands in front of them, forming a lazy smile. This smile remained throughout Rapunzel and Eugene’s activities, even to the point when the couple were settled in a boat, waiting for the lights. 

“It’s happening,” you declared, the smile widening as you released your legs from your hands. “Oh my God, it’s fucking happening!”

Raising the volume, the boy watched the screen, where thousands of lanterns were sparking alight at the king and queen’s signal. The lanterns’ lights broke across the borders of the town, melting into the sea, the docked ships. Rapunzel had not noticed though, too busy dropping flower heads upon the water’s surface, Flynn helpfully holding out the bunch. 

As the princess dropped another upon the waterbed, she finally noticed the beginning.

It was then Vernon heard your favourite Disney song.

“All those days, watching from the window…All those years, outside looking in…” 

You followed this time, not as loud as the other songs, quiet and soft, as if letting the blonde shine in her song. “All that time, never even knowing, just how blind I’ve been…”” 

You exhibited the same excitement as Rapunzel, who, noticing the lanterns, threw off Flynn’s balance, hanging onto the curling bow of the boat.

The boy, however, was not really focused on the screen.

Because the music that surrounded the two crept into his ears, playing the strings of his senses; because the lights were off save for the TV, shining its dimmed lighting upon your face, making you glow with the dark purples, blues, golds of the Tangled scenery. He lost all interest in everything because you were looking something out of a daydream, watching the events of the movie as if they were scenes of salvation. The two of you were definitely not on any kind of boat, merely sitting on bean bags. Despite all of that, he began to float—swaying from where he sat, as if he was truly settled on water. 

“Now I’m here—” You put your hand to your chest— “Blinking in the starlight…now I’m here, suddenly I see…”

You kept singing the lyrics, voice more subdued than your last outbursts, and Vernon could only watch you, the pure love of this song radiating off your very pores. Vernon’s anticipation rose with every octave of the singer’s voice rising, eyes never leaving your face, the parted mouth. 

“Standing here, it’s oh! so clear…!”

As the viewers themselves were about to observe the thousands of lanterns Rapunzel witnessed, Vernon himself waiting, he made the mistake of averting his gaze from you, if only to see the grand reveal.

It was what made you unconsciously envelop your fingers with his, clasping his hand with yours.

He whipped his head to yours, eyes widening to the point of spilling. 

You were already looking at him. 

When you sang the next lyrics, Vernon could have melted molten.

“I’m where I’m meant to be!” 

And as the lanterns surrounded the protagonists, lighting up the entirety of the night, you sang the chorus to the boy in your little college flat, no one to witness it but two of you.

“And at last I see the light! And it’s like the fog has lifted!” 

Your voice was hoarse now, all the screech-singing catching up to you. Vernon, in another lifetime, would have instantly resisted, ran for the hills if it was literally anyone else in the room but you.

“And at last I see the light! And it’s like the sky…is new…” 

But it was you—you holding his hand tightly, you looking at him with the light of the lanterns in your eyes, you opening up to him in your little haven, away from anyone else. Granted, you could have offered this performance to anyone, but he liked to think—shit, he was truly hoping—that you would not have done this for anyone else. 

You would have only sang your favourite song to him. 

“And it’s warm, and real, and bright! And the world has somehow…shifted…”

Vernon watched you halt a moment, waiting for the next verse, your hand tightening in his. 

“All at once…everything looks different…”

You were right—the world had shifted underneath him, stilled under the dimmed lighting of this dingy living room. The two of you now faced each other, music still tuning from the TV, but the characters long forgotten, as if they never existed. Yes, you were right in that everything looked different, seemed different, as if he was seeing you for the very first time. 

“Now that I…see you.”

Shit. You were rather beautiful before him.

You paused then, watching his reaction. You tilted your head, thoroughly amused by the sheer awe that radiated from his face, but then you noticed his chest rise and fall, more unevenly the longer you observed him. 

The next detail you caught was how his eyes darted down—down to your lips.

It was the lips, which were watched so intently, that parted.

You attempted at a little humour. “Out of all my talents, I guess singing isn’t one of them.”

But Vernon did not respond with words. Sure, he would have agreed with you, but singing was irrelevant now. Out of all these infinite talents you possessed—your natural charm, your ease in making him laugh, your trespassing and eventual escaping of such crimes—Vernon could not have given less of a shit about singing. Not when you were before him, bathed in an unnatural, extraordinary light, soft music playing in the background. Almost as if he had adorned the rose-tinted glasses, courtesy of the universe.

In any romantic comedy, he would have kissed her.

The boy was not known to be courageous—anything but brave. Real Life, Not Clickbait Vernon would have left by now. The Real Vernon should have pussied out. 

You, however, looked a little too beautiful to be treated with cowardice. 

“Are you going to kiss me, Mr. Filmbro, or are you gonna make me wait till the end of the movie?”

He parted his mouth for a split second, gob-smacked at your question. The twinkle in your gaze, though, had him spluttering out a harsh chuckle, craning his head down at the sheer absurdity of it all. But then he looked up, smiling, not quite believing what he was about to do.

“I should make you wait.”

That was what he said. What Vernon instead did was finally grow the two balls that were supposed to be hidden in his pants, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. 

Now the boy always wondered whether the movies were right—when mouths would touch, move against each other, whether a fire would ignite between souls, whether one really felt as if they were not of this world.

It seemed like Hallmark-level bullshit to him, but the moment his lips touched yours, he began to float out of this room. A soft hum reverated from you, approval at his actions, and he could have burst as he felt you smile against him. 

Maybe Disney was right. God, he really did not want to be in such accord with that stupid corporation, but they were onto something with the fireworks, the orchestral singing when couples kiss. He himself felt a choir-like chant all around him as he brought his hand to your face, angling it slightly so he could gain better access, boost your pleasure as he delved slightly deeper.

He was unstoppable. He was alive and ecstatic and delirious, opening his mouth wider, his other hand now finding your waist, snuffing out any distance between you two. It was not like he was a pro in these situations—he had only ever had one serious girlfriend, and that was at an age where a boy could get away with merely ‘french-kissing’ (as the kids back then would have gloated) your significant other. Again, he may have fooled around a little in college, too, but never had he experienced this haze of lust, this newfound desire. 

This desire enhanced further when you slipped your tongue from the seams, sliding it along his as an invitation for more, and he could have honestly thanked that heinous hag Walt Disney for making movies you adored so much, to the point of showing him and landing him in this situation. Of course he indulged you, opening his mouth enough to let you inside. The sensation of your tongue slipping past his lips had a soft noise releasing from his throat. 

Tangled was all but forgotten, the two of you too occupied being entangled with each other. You pulled him even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against the ends of his hair. The soft touches had every strand of his locks standing on edge, a wave of delight washing over him. 

You were sagged into the bean bag, Vernon’s weight upon you sinking you further, but you did not mind it—relished it, his scent engulfing you, the sighs and soft murmurs of his every exhale haunting your eardrums. Who would have thought that a boy who could recite every Joker quote from The Dark Knight—Virgin Supremism you termed the talent—had this kind of game hidden underneath? How was he able to ignite such powerful emotions from you?

How was Vernon ‘Filmbro’ Chwe able to make you feel so good you did not realise Tangled finishing right before you?

The two of you could have spent all night intertwined in each other, perhaps would have gone past the boundaries of mere making out. However, between the haze of his soft whispers to you, your own mist swimming in your head, you heard the starting music of the DVD reverting to the home page, and like instinct you opened your eyes, finding that the movie had ended.

You must have paused, because Vernon immediately stopped, concern staining his pretty features. His knitted brow, eyes laced with nervousness, shamed you for ever stopping. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“Oh, no, no!” You felt like a fool for the answer you attempted to give him. “It’s just, um…”

He followed your line of sight, turning around. Once he realised, he looked back at you, you surprised to find a little shock replacing his concern. “We were going for that long?”

Your smirk had his stomach knotting. “This is what happens when you make out with someone you like, Mr. Filmbro.” 

He could not respond, looking away as his flushed face managed to redden some more. You only laughed at him, playing with the hem of his shirt, his arms still steady as they caged you. “You are so lucky, you know.”

He quirked a brow. “And why is that?” 

“I would never miss the second half of Tangled for a man.”

It was so incredibly stupid, how he felt a semblance of pride at the notion.“Happy to know I’m an exception.”

“You do know I’m gonna make you watch it again so you can say you’ve watched it.”

Vernon tilted his head to the side, lost in thought. You watched him, anticipating. “This is the part where you say you’d rather Mingyu jump you than rewatch Tangled.” 

“Well yes, but…” He glanced over his shoulder, where your shelf of DVDs were stacked, a particular movie which had caught his eye previously now standing out all the more. “I, uh…” 

He looked back at you, and the self-conscious glint in his gaze had you watching his every movement. “I was hoping to show you my favourite movie instead.”

You were ready to make a comment on how you prided on avoiding Nolan films like the plague, but then you remembered the conversation at Mingyu’s house. Your eyebrows could have touched your hairline. “You said I could never know.”

“Well…” a small smile escaped him, slowly pulling himself away. “If I am to be your exception, _____, then I suppose you can be mine.”

Gaping at him, you could only keep silent as he, with great effort on his part, heaved off you, making his way to the shelf. He was lucky, you thought—had he been a moment slower, that comment alone would have had you kissing him again. 

What quickly caught your attention was him sliding his pointer finger through your collection, a series of your favourites. The anticipation was rising, you not quite believing that Mr. Filmbro’s favourite film was within your arsenal. Weeks ago, you would have bullied him relentlessly for the ironic hypocrisy.

When he pulled out the fated DVD, you let out the greatest laugh.

The boy instantly frowned, but you did not realise, cackling and cackling away at the selection, the final boss of Vernon’s favourite film, nestled between his fingers. “Shut up,” he mumbled, but again, you did not hear him, lost in the shrill sound of your laughter, erupting the room to life. 

“Oh, Jesus—” Your chortling did not seem to stop, almost to the point of hiccups. “Your ass…this entire time—!”

“And suddenly I’m leaving!” Vernon announced, getting up and about to drop the DVD. 

He did not last long in his determination when you grabbed onto the end of his shirt, grinning still. “Thank God you’re not a Nolan kiss-ass…that’s all I’m saying.”

All he could do was stand like an idiot, the tips of your fingers caressing the skin just above his trousers. “But I am a Nolan kiss-ass,” he murmured, crossing his arms. 

“That’s what I thought, too, but this film—” you jerked your head towards the prize in his hand. “You’ve redeemed yourself.”

“Stop it,” he only said, crouching down to pull out the Tangled CD, replacing it with the new, and, in his opinion, improved movie. “This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“And nobody will know,” you assured him, watching the movie’s main menu pop up, the PLAY option highlighted. “This’ll be our secret.”

“First the trespassing,” Vernon began, sitting down beside you, “Then the tampering of movies, and now this.” He grabbed the remote, about to play the movie. “How much more are we gonna sneak around?”

You looked at him, and the smile you offered him had him glancing away—only for a second. “Have you not had fun, though? Sneaking around with me?”

Normally, in a situation where he had zero balls, he would have evaded such a question, not fanned the flames of your fire. But tonight he had watched a Disney movie with you, felt your fingers caressing his skin, had even kissed you in the purple hues of Tangled’s light. Tonight, he could conquer the world.

What would answering a heated question do any harm?

Vernon locked eyes with you then, trying to fight his smile. “I think I could have fun with you anywhere…in secret or for anyone to see.”

As something in your gaze shifted, he turned the film on (an entendre which was completely intentional). 

Once again, the two of you were in the same position, watching yet another film, this time another’s all time favourite. The narrator began in a strange, European accent, explaining the tale of an unfortunate princess, much like Rapunzel, and her dire situation. 

Although it was undoubtedly his most treasured film, the boy had a very hard time paying attention when all he could feel was that penetrating stare of yours, capable of revealing his very soul from beneath his measly shirt. Even when the stranger main character was introduced, following his main routine in his strangest abode, Vernon was not particularly concentrating anymore.

Not when he heard your voice, a soft question amongst the gaudy music of the 2000s. “Do you mean that, Vernon?”

And perhaps it was because you said his actual name, especially when your voice sounded like…like that. Like something from a perfect movie soundtrack, akin to the end-credits of an unforgettable TV show. 

Because he was too occupied with simply admiring you, he merely nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.

And because you were too busy admiring him, his words, the entire night where you had felt pure, euphoric joy, you did Mr. Filmbro a little dirty by making a decision that negated his film.

You shifted closer once more, hands reaching out to hold his face. 

This time, Vernon was prepared when you kissed him.

There was a certain eagerness in your lips this time which was newer—more enjoyable to his senses. It made sense now, why all these couples in movies made out for hours and hours on end. He felt as if he could kiss you forever, move against your mouth, delve inside until his tongue memorised your very imprint. 

You moaned a little louder this time, and the very sound had his heartbeat racing, moreso when, as he pressed you against him, shifting upon his beanbag, he knew then and there that something in the air shifted.

Last time, you had stopped. This time, there was no such indication—the very thought had him skirting his hands around you, holding you tight enough to never let go.

Still—even with such possibilities, there was no way you and him would escalate to the point of losing his virginity.

Whatever happens though, he will still watch the end of his favourite film. 

Whatever happens, Vernon would not be having sex with you if Shrek was playing in the background.

VERNON LOST HIS VIRGINITY WITH SHREK PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND.

Certainly not his greatest achievements, considering he could not focus on his favourite movie, but it was certainly not his fault. You were—to put it quite plainly—hot as fuck.

He did not leave until the very next day because—as he had stated that night—he still wanted you to watch Shrek, and did, somehow, end up watching it properly. You did not stop teasing him, and he did not stop shutting you up by kissing you senseless. 

Unfortunately, the boy did have college the next day, so he had to leave at some point, but not without promises of meeting you again. This time, however, you two did not continue the crimes he committed with you. You and Vernon were not modern-day Joker and Harley Quinn.

When the two of you were not terrorising Mingyu’s livelihood, you decided to hang out at the filmstore, where it all began. Vernon would host weekly movie nights, and both of you would eat popcorn and watch each other’s recommendations, scoring them differently in accordance to what was most important for each other.

For the film majoring student, the rating was influenced not only by the actors’ performances, but also from the intricate storyline, the character developments, their relationships. A story, for him at least, was about relationships. Good cinema was about the chemistry between two actors, the emotional connection they had not just with each other, but also their effect on the audience. The actual editing of the film, too, was another bullet point in his criteria.

Your rating, on the other hand, differed slightly. 

“Michelle Yeoh is such a MILF,” was your only comment upon finishing Everything Everywhere All at Once. 

This comment nearly made Vernon lose his mind. “One of the greatest movies of this decade, and this is your only input?”

“But am I wrong, though?”

Vernon sighed a little at that—at the end of the day, you were absolutely in the right. There was a reason Crazy Rich Asians went platinum in his dingy little room. 

Of course, it was not just his personal recommendations that played. You had compiled a list of your all-time favourites, going beyond Disney’s borders, and Vernon was introduced to the dashing timeless genre of the rom-com. Now having a younger sister who (he thought) was a basic bitch meant he did possess some knowledge of the genre, but he had never really sat down and watched a rom-com without falling asleep in Sofia’s bed. 

For you, though, he braved the most famous romances, which he found himself enjoying more than he would have liked—more so when he found one of his favoured actors in 10 Things I Hate About You.

“Heath Ledger singing was something I never thought I needed,” Vernon commented as the ferocious couple finally kissed. 

“And this is the same fella who was the Joker in your little Nolan film,” you reminded him, as if he was not aware already. “Oh, and he was the gay cowboy in that movie.”

“Gay cowboy?” His confusion lasted for approximately thirty seconds before he groaned, pushing you over on your beanbag. “My god, are you talking about Brokeback Mountain?”

“Yes, that one!” you exclaimed, picking up the TV remote. “My guy has range, but him as a high schooler is still my favourite role.”

“You do realise how bad that sounds, right?”

“You know what I mean,” you said, waving him off as you began searching for the next movie. “Now, Two Weeks’ Notice or The Proposal?”

Vernon endeavoured to weigh in on the options. “Which one do you think I’d like?”

“Well, both have Sandra Bullock in them…”

He looked over both DVDs. “Now that’s a white woman I can get behind.” 

You scooched a little over to him, locking your hands together. “We can watch something you like…” When he knitted his brows together, not quite answering you, you went on, almost unable to look him in the eye. “You’ve been super nice, you know…sitting through all my favourites.” 

The boy could not help it, unable to let a smirk slip. “Is this _____ appreciating me for once?” The beginnings of his shit-eating attitude did not develop, since your smack on his arm completely snuffed it out. “Ow, damn!”

“You deserved that,” you muttered, beginning to scoot away until Vernon’s hand on your wrist stopped you. 

When you focused your gaze at him, he already beat you to it. “Let’s watch both today.” 

It was silly, how that made your heart beat faster. “Really? You would watch two rom-coms in a row?”

As his hand pulled you closer, his stare had you almost—almost—nervous. “I’ve done worse for you.”

“Very true,” you said, absent-minded, more lost in the twinkle of his eyes. “Very, uh…good point.”

Vernon thanked all the higher bodies that may have existed for the pure, unadulterated rizz he was attempting to spew. “I’m full of good points,” he crowed. “Now, are you going to stare at me all night, or are we going to watch Sandra Bullock?”

Although your cheeks burned, you pushed him off, earning a chuckle from him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mr. Filmbro. The only man I’ll be staring at will be Ryan Reynolds in The Proposal.”

All of the boy’s suave attitude dissipated at his shock. “The Deadpool guy?!”

“Ryan Reynolds did have range before,” you explained, shaking your head. “Then the superhero bug bit him.”

“What a shame,” he only said, as if Vernon did not follow the Deadpool universe to the point of possessing special editioned comics in his room. Still, he happily slotted the CD inside the player, and excused himself to make more popcorn for the two of you.

As the boy prepared snacks, glancing back every time at the opening scene, he managed to sneak a look at you, eagerly watching the screen. 

He could only smile, putting all the popcorn in the huge bowl before hurrying back to you. 

THIS WAS PROBABLY THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT TO A CINEMA. PERHAPS THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT AT ALL.

Admittedly, it was not as if you had intended to go into the cinema in formal attire—or, at least the only formal clothing you had. Your first plan was to steal something from your father’s wardrobe, but when you tried it on, it did not fit properly, and you refused to look like an idiot in public.

Not that you cared much about looking like an idiot in public before, but there was another person to look out for. And that person, although had already done embarrassing enough actions for you, did not want to push it further. One more ceremonious act of humiliation, and Vernon would have run a thousand miles from you—or that was what you thought. 

You observed your cinema fit one last time before your bathroom mirror, fixing the lapels for the nth time. Your rented three-piece suit was almost a second skin, waistcoat snug underneath the tweed jacket, matching coloured trousers adorned alongside. You borrowed some Oxford brogues from a friend, which made you realise that you had more posh friends than you knew. You tried to find a hat similar to the one Cillian Murphy wore in the promotions, but because you did not have the wardrobe of a middle aged man, you resorted to let your head rest. 

All of this elaborate planning to see Nolan’s (apparently) greatest release yet—Oppenheimer. 

Because the cinema was not far away from you, you decided to walk, messaging your date to let him know that you were on your way. You were certain he was already there in the cinema; Vernon, since you had started hanging out more with him, had only ever talked about Nolan’s upcoming epic. You swore if you recited the IMDB plot out to him during sex, he would have spunked within minutes (a mental note to experiment on that later). His excitement had you booking midnight release tickets, which consequently made him so happy you thought you had invited Nolan to the town cinema. 

The night, furthering along, had beautified the black sky, stars twinkling on your journey. The consistent vibrations from your phone indicated the boy’s imminent excitement, and you smiled, double-checking your formal attire once more. You would have romanticised the nighttime further but living in student area brought you right back to fearing slightly for your life, so you quickened your step, cinema already a close speck in the distance. 

You knew you were nearer to the destination when the flocks of pink and black grew, the cowboy hats and fake pipes all piling up in your vision. Seeing the pink reminded you of Barbie’s influence, also being released tonight alongside the more serious counterpart. 

A small part of you really wanted to see the midnight release for the new movie. The original plan most people were following was either to watch Oppenheimer and then Barbie, or the other way around. You were so close to procuring tickets for the latter, but decided that it was important to accompany Vernon to the seemingly bigger release. After all, you were never as excited about films as the dear film major you had rather grown to like.

Another vibration of your phone, and you finally decided to stop ignoring said-film major and text him, possibly informing you of his arrival.

mr. filmbro: yo where u at

mr. filmbro: they’re too many pink mfs out here im getting suffocated

You rolled your eyes.

_____: im coming to save u kitten.

mr. filmbro: :0

Once you were inside, it was a complete sea of pink and black and grey. Two sides, which one would assume would be opposing, were all celebrating, sharing their drinks, anticipating when the theatre doors would open to let everyone in. Within this myriad of fans, you tried to search for the most mentally ill one—the one who you were certain had a finer three-piece set than you, who would have happily stolen Cillian Murphy’s set clothes to truly honour the movie. 

Strangely enough, after a few minutes, you could not find him, even after confirming your seats. You searched for anyone wearing anything devoid of colour, but did not find the boy. This time, you decided to bother him, calling him and pressing the phone to your ear. 

“Where are you, kitten?” you purposely growled, lowering your voice an octave. “Daddy’s waiting.”

“Kitten actually killed himself after hearing that,” was his purposeful monotone. 

“Can you resurrect yourself for me real quick? I’m tryna find where you are.” 

“I’m next to the Oppenheimer popup.” Immediately you tried to find it, scouring through the crowds. “I figured you’d find me easier.”

Scoffing, you ignored the Barbie stalls, walking further ahead. “How very smart of you to wear Oppenheimer clothing while standing next to it. So much easier to find you, isn’t it?”

He did not retort back, instead inciting your excitement. “Wait, I think I can see you…?”

Your eyes darted over to the fresh faces of the Nolan fans, all taking pictures of the cast pop-ups. What you were observing were the men and women, all lack of colour. 

What your gaze ended up on was someone completely different. 

What you were expecting was a mini-Oppenheimer, the too-large blazer, the sashed hat upon pretty brown curls. What you received instead was a boy engulfed in all the pinks of the colour wheel.

Pink was the colour of his top, bubblegum pink the colour of the stringy fur coat sporting over said shirt. Magenta was the colour of his flared trousers, whilst rose was the colour of his converse. What topped off the entire look was the hot pink cowboy hat, sitting perfectly upon his wavy locks, completing his fit—a fit which was perfect for the Barbie movie. 

It was around that point that he caught on to your stare—through the oceans of opposing fans, he, too, finally found you.

Vernon heard your curse murmur through the phone. “Oh my fucking God.”

That was when his own gaze roamed over you, shocked and shameless amongst the crowds. Not that the crowds mattered, not anymore. He was a little nervous, he had to admit it to himself, only because there were so many people, and they were only watching for the fad, for the trend. A part of him wanted just you and him in this midnight cinema, the biggest official date yet. 

But then seeing you here, in all your black-clad, Oppenheimered glory, had stunned him to his core. Although he had specifically brought you here to watch the movie, he had completely expected you to arrive in the pinkmania fit. Because you had kindly booked tickets for his anticipated film, he thought at least to participate in the Barbie craze fit.

It was like instinct, how his steps gravitated towards you, his phone still pressed against his ear, very much like you. You followed him slowly, hearing his ragged breaths through the speaker, watching him walk closer and closer until you both were a mere couple of feet away.

Only then did you drop the call, your hands at your sides as you admired him. It was a while before any of you spoke. 

Like always, you spoke first. “Tell me the fur coat is yours.”

A ghost of a smirk. “Sofia’s.”

“Stealing’s like second nature to you now, isn’t it?” you taunted. 

Like always, he dodged your taunts. “I thought you were gonna wear all pink.”

“I thought you were gonna wear all black.”

He tilted his head. “Well, I thought since we were watching both movies…”

Your confusion was clear, the corner of his lips curling further up. “Wasn’t Oppenheimer first?”

He then went inside his flared trouser pockets, fishing out two tickets—its colours matching his outfit. “I know how much you wanted to see Margot Robbie be silly.” 

“I did!” you exclaimed, taking the tickets from him, admiring how pretty they were designed, especially when compared to the Oppenheimer marketing tickets. In your admiration, though, you noticed a detail which had your excitement faltering. “Wait, are you sure? It says the movie’s at the same time.”

Vernon then checked the timings, mouth parting. “Oh shit. Didn’t think about that.” He shook his head, mouth straightening in a line, dejected. “This is what happens when I try to do something romantic.”

“I have to give points for effort,” you offered, bringing your hands to his wrist. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s watch Oppenheimer, honestly. Cillian Murphy is still hot when he’s old.”

“No, no,” he countered, clasping your hands on his wrist. “It’s chill.” He glanced down. “Let’s do Barbie first.”

You attempted to argue him on this, but he simply let go of your hands, with his one hand wrapping around your waist, and the other hand’s wrist being checked for the time. You bit back a smile at his mere actions, relishing his fingers skirting under the suit, the waistcoat. “Vernon,” you attempted. 

“_____,” he said back, staring at you with an awe that you would have deserved had you worn a couture gown, not some rented hand-me-downs. 

You knew he would not take no for an answer now. “But what about Oppenheimer?” you asked anyway as the two of you made your way to the cinema. 

Vernon only pretended to think extremely deeply of the situation, making you elbow him playfully. “Now tell me, Dear Disney Hag, how did we enter Mingyu’s house?”

“Why, we walked straight in!” you answered like an over-enthusiastic student, in which he sarcastically clapped for you. 

“Right on.” As you both walked towards the Barbie theatre, the opposing movie was being screened right beside you, where people were bursting in. “See how everyone is walking in right now?” He gave you a knowing glance. 

That knowing glance had you scoffing in excited disbelief. “My God! Look at you, all ready to commit crimes!” you looped a hand around his arm. “I have taught you well, young man.”

He patted your arm. “Mr. Filmbro has come a long way from chatting shit about your movie taste.”

“So you admit it?” you leaned in. “Disney makes better movies than your flop directors?”

“That’s a completely different claim,” he clarified. “My taste in films is objectively better.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact you're watching the Barbie movie before Oppenheimer.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging you closer. “That’s ‘cause I like you a lot, Disney Hag…”

You did not stop your smile from lighting up your entire face. “You’re not the most insufferable filmbro I’ve dated I guess…”

”I better be the last filmbro you date,” he muttered, watching over the last of the crowds, where they now stood, waiting to enter the theatre.

The longer you waited to answer him, the more incredulous his face became, brows knotted in disbelief. You only chuckled, leaning in and pressing your lips upon his. Of course, he was taken aback, but surprises like these were pleasant, welcomed with open arms as Vernon closed his eyes, pulling you in. 

The moment the line started quickening you broke away, only to make sure no one skipped in front of you and him, and thus deal with yours and his passive aggression. You could not help the giggle that escaped you at breaking away from his lips, relishing in his dazed state. 

Honestly—you truly would not have minded being anywhere with him.

When it was finally your turn to go inside the Barbie screening, you held tightly to his hand. “Let’s go, Mr. Filmbro.”

Vernon only smiled. “Right behind you, _____.”

And as the two of you entered the theatre, hand-in-hand, the boy learned that perhaps he, too, would have gone anywhere with you. 

[cassifictional]

If you're taking requests, because I truly adore how you write, could you ever do something for Sevika and her ex-girlfriend? Maybe they really haven't gotten over each other after a few years and they still bicker and get jealous over each other, maybe something nsfw happens too. If you don't like the request, feel completely free to ignore it ♡

It’s so nice to hear that you like the way I write! 💕 And a perfect way to get me to write your request lol, compliments work really well on me. I’m not sure whether you wanted an Sevika x OC fic or Sevika x reader so I’m gonna go with x reader because that’s what I’m used to writing!

Sorry if it’s not as good as my other works, it’s really hot where I live rn and my brain is a bit foggy. Also somehow I wrote 1.9k instead of the 500 words I was going for. Lucky you.

My request are semi-open, if you have any fun ideas feel free to leave me an ask and I might write something for it if I have the time and inspiration. I'm gonna assume requests are sfw unless specified otherwise!

Tags: nsfw: mdni please. mean Sevika, jealousy, angry sex, fingering (reader receiving).

Infuriating

It’s one of those days again: cocktail night with all of Silco’s associates. Every once in a while, he rents out a place to invite everyone he wants to keep on his good side. A necessary evil, or so he says. On the surface it seems fun, but look a little closer and it’s all just one big, corrupt power game. If he didn’t insist you’d be there every time, you probably wouldn’t even bother to show up.

The air in the room felt thick with cigarette and cigar smoke, making you feel overwhelmed and disoriented. People surround you as you tried to locate a corner in the room where it was a little less crowded.

“Hey, having a good time? Can I get you a drink?” you suddenly hear a woman’s voice say as you noticed someone had walked up beside you. She had long, black hair, was wearing a tight blue dress and was adorned from tip to toe in fancy jewelry. Her dark brown eyes fixated on yours, she was waiting for a response from you.

Feeling flattered, you smiled and nodded at her.

“I’ll get you something nice. Save a spot at that table for me, would you?” she said flirtingly as she pointed to a table behind you. She winked at you before you watched her make her way to the bar. Like she had asked, you stood at the table and waited for her.

“She is so not your type.” you heard another voice say to your left. One a lot more familiar.

“I think I can decide that for myself, Sev.” you replied, annoyed at the sudden intrusion of the one person you really didn’t feel like chatting with tonight.

“Figures. Being decisive was never your strongest suit.” she taunted. Was she trying to pick a fight?

Sure, your breakup years ago had been messy. No, it wasn’t all her fault. Yes, you lost a good thing you had together, but you always figured you two had never really been meant to last. And yet, it seemed like as long you were in the undercity, you just couldn’t get away from her. In one way or another, you always found her again in the most random of places and situations, often resulting in bickering and petty arguments. Tonight seemed to be no different.

The woman from earlier returned with two drinks, one for herself and one for you. But when she noticed Sevika looming in the corner beside you, she seemed to hesitate.

“Oh.. I’m sorry.. am I interrupt- I think I’ll just..” she said nervously as she glanced back between you and Sevika, who was obviously scaring her off with her death stare.

“No, it’s fine, we’re not together.” you tried to diffuse, but the woman didn’t seem convinced.

“I really don’t want to intrude. Sorry..” she said before quickly making her way to the other side of the room, depriving you of the drink you were actually really looking forward to.

“Great. Thanks.” you said as you turned around and glared at Sevika. “There goes my once chance of having a nice evening. Happy now?”

“Just saving you the trouble. Like I said, she’s not your type.” she scoffed before lighting a cigarillo and blowing a few puffs of smoke your way, which you angrily fanned away.

“Like, what, maybe she’s yours? As far as I’m concerned, you don’t really have a type. It’s always been quantity over quality at the brothel with you.” you grumbled.

“Jealous?” she mocked. “I’ll talk to Babette, see if she’s hiring.”

So fucking annoying. She always knew how to get right under your skin. Eager to get some kind of revenge on her for scaring your flirt away, you considered your options. Empty her drink over her head? No, that’s uncivilized. Violence wasn’t your style either. Instead, in a move that was a whole lot more friendly, you reached your hand out and gestured for Sevika to hand you her cigarillo.

“Fuck you too. Let me have some.” you said as you angrily stared at her.

With surprisingly little hesitation, Sevika took the cigarillo out of her mouth and handed it to you, but not before making you reach for it a bit first. You took a few puffs, maintaining eye contact with her as you did. Even though you were still angry with her, you couldn’t help but feel some of your old feelings for her bubble up to the surface again as you looked at her. Things between you two had been amazing and intense while you were still together. A feeling you really missed from time to time. A feeling that made you doubt whether or not you had tried hard enough to fix it at the time. The constant bickering you went through together now didn’t motivate you to really try and patch things up, though. She was irritating, infuriating even. And yet. You wondered. What if it had worked out?

You took the cigarillo out of your mouth again, twirling it between your fingers for a second before you reached out to hand it back to Sevika again. But instead of handing it to her, you intentionally dropped it right into the drink she was holding.

"Oh. Oops."

Shocked, she dropped the glass right on the floor, shattering the thing into a million pieces and spilling liquor everywhere. And now, Sevika looked fucking furious.

“Alright, you little fucking-“ she growled, but she was cut off by Silco, who had noticed the rising tension and had made his way over to you both.

“That’s enough.” he hissed. “I told you to stay professional.”

Sevika gave him a death glare but didn’t reply, now realizing that she may have fucked up a bit. Silco pointed to a door nearby.

“Outside, now. Come back when you’ve cooled off.” he then turned to face you as well. “You too. Out.”

Not eager to challenge your boss and risk getting on his bad side, you complied and made your way over to the door. Sevika followed closely behind you, heavy footsteps revealing her anger.

“Like fucking schoolkids getting detention.” you grumbled as you pushed open the door. “You’re sure as hell as immature as one, Sev. And you’re- wait, this isn’t..”

“Move.” Sevika groaned as she pushed you forward into the room, almost knocking you over in the process. She quickly realized as well that this door didn’t lead outside.

“Side room.” she ascertained. “Not the exit. Dumbass.”

“No shit, sherlock. And cut it out with the insults.” you snapped.

“That last one was for Silco, not you.”

“For once.”

“So quit assuming everything is about you all the time.”

You sighed in frustration. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be mean to you, but tonight felt a little different from her usual verbal attacks. As if you had really struck a nerve with her.

“Why do you hate me so much?” you asked.

“I could give you a list.” she grumbled as she looked around the room for another exit, to no avail.

“I’m serious, Sev. What the hell happened?”

She sighed. “We’ve been over this. We didn’t work, end of story.”

“You used to like me.” you muttered. “I used to like you. Love you, even. Then it all went to shit and for what? Why?”

You watched Sevika as she was stood with her back towards you. Her shoulders were tense, her whole body looked stiff. The shimmer in her metal arm briefly started to kick in, but went away before it could send her into a frenzy. Then all of a sudden, she turned around and stormed towards you, only stopping when she was right in front of you. She loomed over you like a tower.

“You want me back so bad, is that it?” she hissed.

“I want to know why.” you said quietly, trying desperately to keep back your tears. “You never.. we never talked about why it went to shit. I want to understand.”

“I liked you better when you listened to me.”

“Sev, please, I just..”

She grabbed you by the jaw with her metal hand, squeezing forcefully but not hard enough to really hurt.

“Shut up. You want it to be like the ‘good old days’ again?” she growled, bringing her face close to yours.

Even though you were still angry, the urge to kiss her was greater. But once she noticed you leaning in, she moved her hand from your jaw to the back of your head to grab a fistful of your hair. She pushed you back into the now closed door behind you, effectively immobilizing your head to where her hand was.

“So fucking desperate.” she muttered under her breath as her other hand made it’s way to one of your thighs. “I remember you used to beg for it.”

“Then.. please?”

The look in her eyes still screamed fury, but behind the angry façade you could see that there was more to it. You had gotten to know her well during your time together. You could see something you didn’t quite recognize, not just yet. Lust? Jealousy? Regret?

Her grip on your hair forced you to keep eye contact with her. Without any further hesitation, Sevika moved her hand up from your thigh, straight into your underwear. Knowing there were probably people behind the door Sevika had forced you against, you struggled to keep yourself from moaning out loud.

She effortlessly found your sweet spot like she always did when you were still together. As if you had never broken up in the first place. Her movements were rough but precise, keeping you exactly where she wanted you, touching you exactly where she wanted to.

“Oh, god..” you gasped as you felt one of her fingers brush over your entrance before she roughly shoved it inside you.

“Try not to let the whole room hear you.” she sneered, pushing a second finger inside of you. “Or do. See if I care.”

“Fuck you, Sev.”

“You wish.”

“Oh, you- ah! Fuck.. fuck me.” you moaned as Sevika curled her fingers inside of you, continuing to roughly move in and out of you. Your pleas seemed to motivate her as much as they seemed to be pissing her off.

You gripped her arm tightly as she continued to fuck you against the door, surely making enough noise by now that people on the other side of it could hear something was going on. She kept her eyes on you the whole time, the look of anger mixed with unknown, messy feelings in her eyes unwavering. Maybe it had been the lack of intimacy in your life lately, maybe you had just really missed her despite all the harsh words spoken between you, but she knew exactly how you liked to be touched and she could definitely feel you were getting close. As she slowly but steadily pushed you over the edge, she moved her metal hand from the back of your head to your mouth to muffle your increasingly loud moans as you came.

You felt your legs turn to jelly but Sevika’s hand was still underneath you, keeping you upright. She briefly let you ride it out before she removed her hand from your underwear as quickly as it had found its way in. She leaned back in close you your face, your mouth still covered by her metal hand.

“Whore.” she hissed before removing her metal hand from your face.

She pushed you aside, opened the door and walked out. The door fell shut behind her. Still trying to catch your breath and compose yourself, you rested your back against the closed door again and slowly slid down onto the floor. Your eyes filled with tears as you processed what just happened. You finally got the courage to ask and she didn’t even tell you. Tell you why you ended up like this.

Notes: angry sex, sure! But I do need to sprinkle some explicit ✨consent✨ in to feel comfortable with it. I feel like this could use a continuation. Anyone interested in that? Let me know. Poor y/n’s having a hard time.

[90stvshowgoth]

—THE BET

summary: you thought that as a member of the phantom troupe you were supposed to be smarter than this, yet here you were betting against hisoka. everyone knew that hisoka was a master at poker, cards were his weapon after all, but you couldn’t resist wagering one more bet on a drinking game.

w/c: 4587

tags: dubcon, drunk sex, creampie, blood kink, hate sex, begging, brat taming

a/n: this originally started as a chrollo oneshot, you can kinda tell from how the opening paragraph is about him, but once i started writing the poker game i was like “okay no i gotta make this its own thing,” and because of that decision we now have loose ends getting ch.3 rn :) also no, i couldn’t help but kinda reference phantom of the opera cause it slaps and nobody can tell me otherwise. also, no, before anyone asks, this is a oneshot. it aint getting a sequel.

big thanks to the lovely miss @sealedrosewater for beta reading this clownfucking nightmare.

The heist had gone off without a hitch, Chrollo’s plan worked like a charm and before the night was out you had all flawlessly extracted each and every one of the gilded texts being held in the museum. You still remembered the childlike gleam in your boss’ eyes as he ran his fingers over the aged leather, its binding parchment laced with gold. The faintest ghost of a smile fled from his pallid lips as he admired his new conquest. It made your chest swell with pride, happy to help the man you respected so much. Besides, your cut was nothing to sneeze at.

Your rendezvous was inside a long-abandoned opera theatre where dust clung to the red velvet of the seats and the chandelier was seemingly hanging by a thread; your boss always had a flair for the dramatics. Once all members of the spider had finished reconvening at the empty theatre to gather their spoils it wasn’t long before someone, probably Uvogin, brought out the drinks. Nobunaga had already begun nursing a rum and coke, all while Feitan kept turning down Shal’s insistence to “Just try some, Fei,” Even Shizuku cracked open one of the ice-cold bottles, knocking back an impressive swig. As soon as you saw Machi pulling out a deck of cards you knew you had to stay for the after party.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of your leader. He’d gone to his room with the book you recovered tucked under his arm. A few other members who couldn’t be bothered took after your leader and went off to whichever side room they’d stashed a futon in the week prior; the Phantom Troupe’s equivalent of picking out a bedroom. A shame, really. You’d seen Feitan drunk once before and it was truly a sight to behold.

You sat crosslegged on the wooden floor, watching your comrades slowly get comfortable for a night of fun. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat above you, looking up to see Pakunoda with a soft smile on her face and an opened beer in her outstretched hand.

“Paku, have I ever told you how much I love you?” You couldn’t help but shower the woman with praise. She had been the one who recommended you to Chrollo after all, and she served as your mentor for your first few months until you found your feet.

She scoffed at the compliment, “Far too much,”

Sticking your tongue out playfully at the mindreader, you took a deep sip of beer, enjoying the familiar taste. Paku sat down beside you and it wasn’t long before the two of you were drinking shoulder to shoulder.

“Machi! Deal us in,” You raised your drink to the transmuter and she flicked two cards towards you both.

Scooting away from Paku, you quickly scanned the cards you’d received before pressing them face down. A queen and an ace. Not great, but not awful either.

The others had formed a haphazard circle, each glancing at their cards with an unreadable poker face. Well, all except Hisoka, who seemed pleased as punch with whatever hand he’d been dealt. Silently, Nobunaga took out two coins and threw them into the center— the Troupe’s house rules counting it to be equivalent to 2 billion jenny.

“Call,” you answered, matching the swordsman’s bet with an unreadable expression on your face.

“Oh? Well then, I’ll raise you,” Hisoka purred, pushing five extra chips into the pot without breaking his gaze from yours.

‘What was he planning?’ That smug look of his just made you want to win that much more. The same seemed to be true of everyone else, each calling the clown’s bet in a row. After all, to a member of the Phantom Troupe, five billion jenny wasn’t that much of a loss.

When Machi turned up the first three cards your heart skipped a beat. Two queens and a seven. Winning a round of poker against some of the smartest criminals the world had ever known was an uphill battle, seeing as how you’d been a member for years without winning a single game.

‘Three of a kind already... what should I do?’ Your face was as stone-cold as before, even with the excitement bubbling in your gut. As nonchalantly as you could, you raised another two billion. At that, Uvo and Shizuku both folded, the enhancer grumbling with a disappointed frown.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I haven’t got enough coins~” Hisoka slapped down a twenty, and a chorus of annoyed groans broke out like a choir, the abandoned theatre’s acoustics amusingly echoed the loud noises of displeasure.

After that little stunt only three others remained: Pakunoda, who’s facade hadn’t cracked all game, Nobunaga, who was glaring daggers at Hisoka, and the aforementioned magician holding up his cards in front of him like a child playing for the first time.

All three of you matched his bet, but none were happy about it. As Machi flipped over the fourth card you found yourself holding your breath. Not because you particularly cared about the money at stake, but because you felt closer to a victory than you had in months. The caricature of a medieval jester being illuminated under the light made you dig your nails into the palm of your hand.

Joker. That meant you had four queens.

It never felt harder to fight a smile off your face than in that moment. Without betraying your excitement, you called, and to your surprise so did Hisoka. Was he bluffing? Or did he have something else in mind? Nobunaga took a deep breath, knocking back the rest of his drink before calling alongside Pakunoda.

All eyes were on the card beneath Machi’s fingertips, the seconds it took to turn the paper on its head filled the theatre with a suspense liable to bring its fragile walls to the ground.

An eight of hearts. Oh well, no big deal.

Nobunaga muttered a curse under his breath, revealing a simple jack and ten of the same suit. Pakunoda was unreadable when she showed the pair of kings she held in her hands. She must’ve thought that the three of a kind would’ve won her the game. The smile on your face felt sweeter after holding it in the whole round, and Nobunaga rolled his eyes when he saw your hand, pushing the pot towards you.

“Well, look at that~” Your victory was interrupted by Hisoka’s insufferable tone, the cards he held up making your jaw drop.

A nine and a jack of hearts. A straight flush.

“That’s bullshit!” You cried, enraged over the loss. It wasn’t even that you cared so much about losing, It only mattered because you lost to him. In an instant you had summoned your nen into the palms of your hands, ready to lunge at the clown when Pakunoda grasped your shoulders, holding you back. Sometimes you forgot how much brute strength was hidden under that pantsuit.

“Just flip a coin, don’t give him what he wants.” Your first reaction was to ignore her, squirming against her iron grip to try and get to Hisoka, who was dramatically scooping all your winnings into his arms.

Uvogin tossed yet another empty beer can over his head, “C’mon Paku, I say let ‘em fight,”

“I concur~” The magician chirped, dramatically stacking each and every coin he’d won while boring his yellow eyes right into yours. His tongue parted his lips, a manic excitement hiding behind the coy expression.

Although every muscle in your body screamed at you to rip into him, you knew you wouldn’t win. He knew your abilities and you couldn’t say for certain you knew all of his.

“Never-mind,” You spat the words out at him like they tasted sour, “You’d probably get off on it anyways.”

A few laughs from the peanut gallery followed your words and Hisoka shrugged, the intense bloodlust from a few seconds ago vanishing as if he’d changed his mind about fighting you on a whim. “You may be right, darling,” your face scrunched up at the nickname you knew he only used to get on your nerves, which it did. “but what if we played a different game?”

Despite how badly you just wanted to ignore him and laugh the night away with all but one of your comrades, you couldn’t turn down the idea of a rematch. Your pride wasn’t nothing to you. “What kind of game?” You asked hesitantly.

He hummed, standing up from the towers of coin he’d made, sauntering over to the cooler of drinks Franklin had provided. After digging around the cold box he pulled out a bottle of fruity tequila and two empty shot glasses.

Your eyes narrowed at the “innocent” smile on his face, looking over to Pakunoda for reassurance.

“You’ll kill him if he spikes my drink, right?” You asked your mentor, who nodded resolutely.

Paku was staring at Hisoka like she was already thinking of ten different ways how to kill him. After sizing him up she flashed you a reassuring nod, “Without question.”

Resolute in your decision, you marched forward, snatching one of the shot glasses from his hand. The stage lights shone above him, making his eyes gleam like the plastic gloss of a doll.

“Shall we begin, then?”

You raised an eyebrow, “What are the rules first?”

He waved his hand in the air, brushing it off, “Nothing too complex, I assure you. The first one who taps out will lose. The loser will do something for the winner. That’s all.”

You still weren’t convinced it could be that simple. “What’s the catch?”

That smirk from before returned to his painted face and he suddenly leaned forward, feeling far too close for comfort. Still, you didn’t step away, your face expressionless as he whispered into your ear. If you did you felt like he’d somehow win whatever stand-still the two of you had on.

“If I lose, I’ll leave the Phantom Troupe,” You reeled away, stunned at his declaration.

Being accepted into the Troupe was the best moment of your life, it always would be. When you looked into the mirror at the tattoo that curled under your ribcage you felt such a warm swell of pride. You couldn’t imagine throwing it all away over some drinking game.

“And...” You blinked rapidly, trying to collect yourself, “If I lose?”

The laugh that echoed from his chest was far from reassuring.

The evening slowly ran into the early morning, each of the other Troupe members wandering off eventually in varying stages of drunkenness. Even Pakunoda headed off to bed after confirming that Hisoka hadn’t spiked your drinks with anything other than a strawberry vodka base. It was unnerving at first, to be completely alone with Omokage’s replacement. Luckily his tastes ran strong, and your vision was spinning before your knew it.

“Match.” Another shot went down your throats, the taste disgustingly sweet, and you watched as his Adam’s apple tensed from the burn.

You’d long since stopped counting how many drinks you’d had, losing track once you got to the double digits. You were both using nen to reinforce yourselves, obviously, but it wasn’t infallible.

‘How is he so good at this?’ You wondered, because as the bottle ran low you started to question just what had made you so confident as to enter a bet with Hisoka in the first place.

“My dear, why not rest for a minute? At least try to enjoy each others company?” His legs were crossed, resting his hand on his palm as he not-so-subtly checked you out. It wasn’t uncommon, and certainly not unexpected from someone like him, but what you hated wasn’t just the nerve of him, but how it made you feel. His scrutiny sent chills down your spine, the unnerving edge to his tone only making you shift your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,” you knocked back two consecutive shots, unable to hide the wince it caused on your face. Good, you wanted it to sting. Anything to take your mind off the magician in front of you.

He pouted as he poured another row of drinks, “Aw, now why’s that?”

You answered his question with another, pointing towards the half-empty bottle of liquor, “Whats in this, really?”

The magician rolled his eyes, “I did pick an unopened bottle for a reason, dear, I do so want you to trust me.”

Without much fanfare he threw back four shots, over your stunned reaction.

“Just give up already, Darling~ I promise to make it worth your while,” You were reaching your limit for sure, but you were far to stubborn to give up without a fight.

“Fuck you,” you took the first of your next four shots slowly, not managing his fast pace.

He grinned a cheshire smile, “Oh, say that again, will you?”

If he were to call you out on the blush slowly spreading across your nose you’d just blame the alcohol, but the truth was that his words just egged you on even more to the point where you were almost—barely even considering...

“What do you mean, make it worth my while?”

He leaned forward like a cat, agile and silent, whispering his words against your temple, “I’ll tell you how I won that hand,” He got you, hook, line, and sinker.

“You’ll tell me how you cheated?”

Hisoka nodded, a clawed hand coming to stroke a stray piece of hair behind your ear, the action far too intimate for someone like him.

There was no way you’d win against him in this match, that much was clear from the very sober way Hisoka held himself against you, inhumanly still, so what did you have to lose?

‘Your dignity,’ A part of you answered back, but it wasn’t all that convincing. You’d left your dignity behind four shots ago.

“If I lose...”

“If you lose,” He mouthed the words into your cheek, his eyes closed in thought, “You do know what I’ve decided my prize shall be, right?” Of course you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, and the way he nuzzled himself into your neck was far from subtle.

Were you actually so desperate to learn how you lost that you’d sleep with him?

No, you weren’t. But the ache between your legs was getting harder to ignore, and the idea that you could write off what you were about to do behind the excuse of gathering intel sounded like a win-win.

You dug your hands into his hair, not trying to be anything but rough, basking in the moan that spilled from his lips, breath hot against your neck before you yanked him back to meet your gaze.

“Fine. You win, Hisoka,” He smirked, and although he was on his knees he still towered over you, “so how did you cheat?”

Before you could blink his hand had wrapped around your throat, the magician slamming your head into the wood of the stage. You’d had plenty of time to block the damage with your hatsu but the action left your brain rattling inside your skull.

“I’ll tell you later,” He promised, the disorienting blur was slow to fade from the alcohol, and distantly you could feel his other hand stroke your face, his nails like filed daggers trailing over your cheekbones.

“What to do with my prize, then, hm?” He mused, tilting your head from left to right as if examining a block of wood he was about to carve. You coughed on impulse when he let go of your neck, guiding it up instead and taking both your small hands into his palm with an iron grip.

With a flick of his wrist he drew a card, the eight of hearts, seemingly out of nowhere, his nen sharpening it into a thin blade, “Don’t move,”

“Wait... Hisoka, don’t—!” You were far too late to stop him, the frigid air of the ghostly theatre rushing to meet the bare skin of your chest.

Your shirt fell to ribbons along with your bra and you thrashed desperately in his grasp, angry over the loss of your favorite top. He paid your escape attempt no mind, enraptured with the way your tits rose and fell with the timing of your breath and the way you tried to wriggle yourself free.

Still holding your hands to the floor above you, his head bent to wrap a skilled tongue around your tits, a soft sigh involuntarily falling away from you.

“I fuckin’ ha-ate you, Hisoka—ah,” His teeth bit down on your peak at the comment, peering up at you from under his fiery hair.

“Oh? Then why is it you’re moaning like a little whore?” He shifted his weight above you and you saw an opportunity.

You kicked with all your strength between his legs, pulling your knee back and shoving him off with a dig of your shoe into his stomach, “I’m not, don’t call me that shit!”

He actually loosened his grip on you clearly not intending for you to get free from his grasp, a choked sound of what you thought was pain devolving to something much more heated as he stared into you.

“You... are well worth the wait, my dear,” His bloodlust seeped out from every pore, grounding you to the spot. You could usually hold your own against someone like him but it wasn’t hard to see the disadvantage you were at.

Within a fraction of a second he was on you, twisting your waist in his clawed grasp until your ass was hiked into the air, a sharpened playing card slicing through the denim until he could rip it from your legs, yelp echoing like music in the long-silent theatre.

“I knew you’d have some fight left in you,” He crawled forward and you started to realize why he wore exclusively baggy pants, his length hot against you through the fabric as his hips caged you in. As he began to remove that street-performer getup he always wore he’d occasionally curl his hand around your waist to mercifully tug on your ignored clit, your groans muffled and cursed, “I love it. That resilience? It just turns me on.”

You could feel your confidence fade as he tugged those sweatpants down, the weight of him grinding into your ass made all your bravado vanish.

“It will make it so much more satisfying...” He pointed his finger upwards, and suddenly your hands became magnetized to each other, no amount of struggle even budging the rubbery nen substance. “...when I break you.”

Without warning he slid himself inside you, hands holding your hips still as he forced your back into an arch. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the flailing of your bound arms useless as he shallowly began pumping his cock deeper inside you.

Your muffled curses whispered into the floor made him laugh, pulling his hand back and cruelly slapping the vulnerable flesh of your ass without a warning.

“Wh.. Why?”

“Because, darling, I want to hear you beg for me.” He pouted, teasing your clenched walls with only the tip of his slick head.

Despite the desire coursing through your veins you still had your pride in tact, “Never gonna happen, asshole.”

Gripping your hips, he dug himself into your dripping cunt as far as he could, both of you unrestrained with a moan at the feeling of his cock brushing near your cervix, your hips traitorously snapping back to meet his eager thrusts, movement near impossible as Hisoka forced you into the ground.

You cried out softly with each quick pull and stretch, only able to say his name one syllable at a time,

“Hi-so—kah...” It was hard to turn your head to the side from his brutal pace but somehow you manage, craning yourself in order to see him; His head was thrown back with a sheer bliss softening his glistening skin, his eyes closed and lips parted. The sight made your keening grow louder, the simple image of him losing himself in your twitching pussy sending a wave of slick dripping around his length.

He must’ve felt your gaze on him because soon enough his was staring at you, his pupils blown wide with desire in a way that made them look like a sun eclipsed, black outlined with a ring of fiery gold.

All at once his hips froze, digging his cock so far as to leave an indent in your pelvis. For a confused second you thought he’d finished, but his gaze was cruel and focused, his lips in a smirk, and you felt no more full than you had a moment ago. He was doing this on purpose.

“Wait, no-nono, wh..y?” You hiccuped, taking his break as a moment to wipe unshed tears from your glossy eyes.

He sighed, “I don’t like repeating myself, darling,” He accentuated the infuriating nickname with a slap to your thigh, face unchanged as he trailed his sharpened fingertips along the reddening skin.

“His..oh.. fuck, Hisoka—“ The banished tears returned, falling silently down your pink face as you whispered, “please,”

“Hmm? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you, my dear, mind saying that again?

Your voice hiccuped as you spoke, “Please, alright? Please,” You thought it’d be enough, that he might finally go back to toying with your clit while he fucked you into the old floorboards, but you’d underestimated the magician’s self-control.

Innocently, he tilted his head, “Please what, dear? Please hit you again?” Hisoka didn’t blink as he slowly brought up his palm, giving you plenty of time to try and wiggle free from your punishment just to show off how futile escape really was, lashing his hand down on the same patch of skin as before, grinning at the shriek he yanked from your lungs.

“No! No, fu-uck.. just—“ You whimpered, brain seemingly disconnected from your mouth as you struggled to form the words, “just fuck me, Hisoka, please.”

“Look at you, huh? You were a slut after all,” He purred, letting the weight of your words hang lifeless in the air along with your stubborn pride. Before you could argue again his hand had returned to your clit, pace unforgiving as he pulled your nerves ever closer to snapping only to halt the second he grew bored, “Say it,”

Mindlessly, you nodded your head, “I’m yours, I’m your slut, Hisoka,” you intentionally clenched yourself around him, mumbling lucid pleas for more as his hard cock twitched, pre cum dripping from your heat onto the floor as your conscience trying to deny what your body so willingly accepted, “want you to fuck me, Hisoka, fu-ck,” you whined, the still presence inside your sensitive walls drove you insane.

With each word a truly unhinged aura began to surround him, and by extension, you, the intoxicating menace dripping over you like a drug as you faced forward once again, wiggling your ass as best you could in his grip.

That was his breaking point, ripping you away from his cock only to drive himself back in, digging the full blade of his nails into your hips, blood pooling around the crescent cuts.

“Fuck, ah.. Darling, ‘doing so good, so good’fr me-ah,” He slurred his words together, more drunk on you than the vodka as he leaned back, forcing you to meet him as his thrusts became so quick that it was getting hard to breathe, your ribcage creaking with discomfort as you were nailed into the stage.

“M..o-re, more...” You begged, and he was happy to oblige. the smearing crimson of blood running hot down your thighs, the pain only making you more pliant in his sculptor’s hands as he folded your body however he liked, ignoring your pained weep from the stretch as he slung one of your bleeding legs over his shoulder.

It was almost weird to hear him say your actual name, so often he used a pet name to mock or flirt with you, sometimes both, “So good for me like this, taking me so goo-uh,” He choked on his words as your cunt tightened around him, your hands clinging for balance in his hair, and Hisoka clearly didn’t mind if the slew of moans from his lips was any indication.

The angle his hips cut into had the edges of your vision turning into a vignette, “I’m close, so close, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Right here,” The hand that had been toying with your clit changed angles, his fingertips spinning spirals onto your aching bud while the flat of his hand pushed against your stomach, your shout swallowed by his pretty lips, tongue toying with yours.

“Ye-es cum inn-side me,” You were too far gone to care, anything he said sounded good as long as he said it in that sultry purr, arms numb as they lay suspended above your head.

“Take it, take it, Darling,” With what little strength you had left you curved your calf beside his neck, pulling him in until his cock brushed your cervix, the pain indistinguishable from the pleasure, “Uhn, cumm-fuck, i’m cumming—“

His cum was thick, the curve of his cock jutting inside you as he filled you up, mercifully swallowing your hallowed scream as he kissed you deeply, almost all feeling in your raised leg lost until he lowered it to his waist, involuntarily snapping his hips up although they had nowhere left to go until your moan turned into a broken sob of lingering bliss.

“Shh, dear, I’ve got you,” With a whirl of his wrist your arms were free of his bungee gum, shakily pulling them to your sides again as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck, whispering a slurred mess of sweet words, stopping to suck a particularly deep hickey into the vein of your flesh.

“Hisoka, quit it!” Your fight had returned along with feeling to your fingertips as you wrenched him back by the hair, his cock jumping.a bit inside you at the grip, “I’ll have to wear sweaters for weeks now, you jerk.”

The capillaries had already begun to burst as he laughed, reaching up behind your head to pull his discarded top forward, digging out what looked like a piece of smooth cleaning cloth from its pocket and lying it over your neck with a simple point of his finger, gyo revealing the pink gum of his aura that controlled it before he smoothed the fabric over your skin, the texture so light you could barely feel it.

“A deal’s a deal, love, I’ll tell you how I cheated,” He smiled as satisfied and smug as he could ever be, a tingling sensation overtaking the patch of covered skin.

As he pulled your hand away you ran your fingers over the cloth, not finding a seam among the normal tone of your chest. Eyes wide as you looked at him for answers he was already happy to provide, “It’s called texture surprise. I can apply it to any flat surface and change its appearance. It’s quite handy,”

“It works on skin, paper, even playing cards,” You felt like an idiot. During the match you kept analyzing him for a sleight of hand trick all while he was using a second nen technique to win. It was so simple but genius, and you felt a little bit better knowing you weren’t outwitted by something obvious.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,”

He chuckled, kissing along the new unblemished canvas of your neck, “I know~”

[kkoffin]

Wanted to clarify that I don’t think @filius-mariae is making/intending to spread this misinformation, but rather, whichever person may have told her this. Sorry if I sounded really mean at first

Also wanted to add on, while I’ve got you tagged, I’m not really following the whole cass report stuff - I know you sent another ask which I may also respond to in a minute, but to be totally honest rn I chose my degree based on the fact that there was no math involved, and very little research. I do not do well researching topics I’m not interested in or don’t find GREAT importance in. I’m not British and I never rly chose to learn about the cass report, thus never posted about it. I haven't rly posted a huge amount about anything medical outside of cosmetic surgery, since I focus more on philosophical, criminological, legal, and societal/cultural issues.

Here's ur other ask and my thoughts are pretty much: whether its proven that puberty blockers are harmful or not, in order to use this life-altering procedure on children, I think it should be absolutely proven, undoubtedly, unquestionably that it is NOT harmful. Further, it should be regulated and LONG-TERM research should be performed before it's given to children.

Puberty is traumatic for most women, and greatly stressful for ALL children, but it is a natural part of the human experience. It is not "unconsentual" or "forced" - its the body's process of changing from a child's body to an adult body. Same as your baby teeth falling out, or simply getting bigger. Further, a female child is still a female. You don't turn male or female with puberty, you're born with it. You cant prevent being the "wrong" sex. I don't mean this to say its not easier to "pass" if, hypothetically, you prevented puberty, I only mean it to contradict the idea that puberty is some unnatural and optional process, which is the end all and be all of trans-identifying kids.

finally, we know it's not a totally consequence-free process. That shouldn't be shocking news to anyone - but people will argue that it's worth it regardless. I have seen children screaming crying, going on for weeks, about how they want to be Chinese. I honest to god, up until the age of 7 or so, would tell people that when I grow up, I want to be a cat. There’s a lot more examples i can provide but it’s late, and tldr: Kids are stupid. pre-pubescent kids. This is why we don’t let them get tattoos or have sex or whatever else, we know this.

Puberty is not optional, I see a lot of TRAs say puberty is the tattoo, not puberty blockers. That is not the case. Literally the entirety of humanity has experienced puberty. we know what it does. It’s not going to kill you, or make you become infertile when you wouldn’t have otherwise been, or give you depression you otherwise wouldn’t have developed. because there is no otherwise. puberty (assuming you don’t die prior) is inevitable to become an adult. You can try to make kids go through the opposite sexed puberty, but it’s still puberty, eventually.

tldr stop experimenting with things that haven’t been studied thoroughly on children and puberty is inevitable, not some optional event. and disclaimer again, for if any TRAs find this and decide to argue with me: i do not focus on this area, thus im not going to bother debating it. this is just my medically uneducated, but culturally educated take. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a male or female body anyways, regardless of dysphoria. see my other posts for more details on that but essentially gender isn’t real, abolish it and abolish gender dysphoria, sex is real. the answer to anorexia is not to let them starve, the answer is to make them realise their weight doesn’t matter, and their sense of self/value shouldn’t be based on it. same with gender.

What do you make of the whole “600k British doctors in the British Medical Association condemned the Cass Report” thing? Thanks :)

i would actually LOVE a source for this because there aren’t even that many doctors IN Britain! So that would be pretty crazy!! If nearly 200% of doctors were condemning a hyper-specific report on something.

idk if this is purposeful misinformation or negligent misinformation or some crazy typo, i literally can’t find anything CLOSE so. idk. either way, it’s crazy misinformation that yall spread for fun

[moomoomooing]

Kyuu and why he’s in NRC

some ramblings for kyuu and NRC, specifically on how NRC is a school for villains

this was honestly really fun to write and I wrote so much more than intended. I promise i’ll get around to writing more on kyuu and leona once i’ve splurged out all the lore i want for kyuu rn :D

yk i havent said it here but like, NRC is a school full of villains essentially right, it’d be pretty weird to slap some wholesome and pure-hearted person into NRC- especially when RSA exists lmao

idk i was thinking abt it and yeah, yuusonas and just yuu characters in general are the expection to this cause theyre arent at NRC by choice or really fit in with the rest of the boys in “evilness”

oh also- kyuu here, while I list him as a sona for myself, isnt really the most accurate representation of myself, I put on a lot of negative aspects on him and we certainly wouldn’t act the same way. So maybe listing him as an oc/sona would be far more accurate. He’s based off of me, but I develop him as his on character- using myself for reference. (For when I talk about it: I do not condone bullying and it makes me really uncomfortable to even witness it, empathy ig? i dont really understand it myself, but yeah, that part specifically is purely made for Kyuu and why he’s an NRC boy)

so i present some of the stuff that makes Kyuu an NRC student :)

To him its kinda everyman for himself, he’ll help if its reachable and fairly easy for him, or that person has some great significance to him (aka emotionally important or like, powerful ppl he wants to be on the good side of). But otherwise, he’ll leave that person to just kinda suffer-he’ll offer condolences and be on his way. He’s tries to stay on good terms with Azul for that reason, it’s real easy to pull strings when you’re friends with someone like that, even just a name drop of the tweels or Azul might intimidate some people. He’s never signed a deal but he does work part-time at the Mostro Lounge. He’s incredibly self-sufficient to the point where he will allow himself to sink and refuse to make a peep to others. Professor Trein is basically the only exception- and that took a lot of pondering to take the chance. 

He’s cold, not just in appearance from his resting face, but if he doesn’t know you, theres a good chance he’ll never bother talking to you. Hell he doesn’t like getting involved in stuff like bullying, either being the bully or preventing it- to him it’s free entertainment, the only exception is underclassmen he particularly likes or if they’re in the Equestrian Club with him. Catching Floyd or Jade on a hunt for a student might just make it to his most memorable moment of the day, It’s a bore when all the kids are the same type of roughhousing and mean. His social bubble is small and restrictive- which is why getting such a severe crush on Leona was so significant. If he wanted any type of closure or chance it would force him to interact and actually try to be nice and active with people he doesn’t care about to make some connections. He met Ruggie that way, and while Ruggie saw through him immediately, it definitely worked on other Spelldrive Club members (ahem Epel). Though nowadays he’s far more involved with the first years, he actually tutors (attempts to) Deuce and Ace, and any of the other first years when they need help, so that relation with Epel became a lot more genuine than before. 

Getting into a relationship with Leona didn’t really change much for him, besides the whole independency thing. A brief side note-I find it really unbelievable that overblots don’t have some sort of intense recovery period, which for my purposes I say they do. Even after a week or two you still feel the effects of the blot, maybe even a physical manifestation of blot, throwing it up or choking on it at its worst. Kyuu and Leona got together a mere days after Leona overblotted, it was a moment of fear for Kyuu- Kyuu being amongst the crowd when it happened, and Leona being pretty emotionally vulnerable afterwards and was forced to admit and re-confront lifelong doubts and pains. Leona ended up needing to do check-ups in the infirmary, having to stay a night when the blot afterwards had surged back and Ruggie forced him to actually get help. Kyuu ended up visiting the infirmary at the time, and well, they confessed. (This is something I’ll probably write about later, especially how I think it would go from Leona’s side bc I think that’s interesting lmao.) This, quite frankly, is a pretty awkward way to start a relationship. It took a lot of time to truly get comfortable around each other and begin to open up emotionally. Bringing this back around to how it changed Kyuu’s whole sever emotional independence, they were close enough that it made Kyuu actually talk. Leona doesn’t pry or force more out of Kyuu than necesarry- and that helps so much in making him feel like he can drop it into conversations (where appropriate of course.) That pressure of making it feel like it’s a big deal is crippling to him.

Oh lord this turned into some intense brainrot- if you made it this for a smooch for you and im sorry for writing so much-

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hi! I love everything that you write and heh I am a fan! 😄 tbh this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr! If you don't mind and if I am not being a bother...can you write about how the guys would react If MC suddenly starts making meme references? I don't know how I got the idea but I am REALLY curious. And love you! :D

Hiya! Tyvm for the kind words, and apologies that this took a while! I hope you have the chance to enjoy it regardless ❤️❤️❤️ Love you too, sweet pea! I promise to get to the next request you’ve sent ASAP~

Aight but this would be hilarious because the range of the reactions is just ungodly. I will be putting this under a cut after Napoleon so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash, but all the suitors are included below otherwise! 

Comte is the one that recognizes a few, but didn’t really stay in modern times long enough to be as well-versed as a Gen Z kid might. Regardless he finds the wittiness and absolute chaotic fuckery to be delightful, and will 100% support the harmless nonsense. It never fails to get a laugh out of him

Mozart that first day be like: “Buzz off MC I hate you” MC, because she likes swinging bats at wasps’ nests: “Well that’s not very cash money of you” Mozart: ?????????? Comte, giggling in the bg like the secret fae he is This one’s just because I’m petty, but after the events of Comte rt I just imagine them encountering Vlad again and MC’s just “I lived bitch.” while Comte is flipping him off behind her lkjahgkjhdsg

Comte @ Leo when he finds the latter under his desk: Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you.  MC: wheezing from the hallway as she’s about to give him his letters

MC: So how was your day, honey? Comte: Good, good--briefly had to go beastmode upon the punk that pilfered my lint roller MC, biting her lip to keep from laughing: So does Leo still have his kneecaps? Comte: for now.

Comte, @ literally anyone upsetting the MC: I won’t hesitate, bitch

Comte: Be careful with my emotional baggage, it’s designer

MC: What if I was evil and ran towards you at very fast speeds Comte: My arms are strong, I would catch and hug you

Leo and Dazai are the ones that don’t have a single reference point but are filled with so much dumbass chaos energy that they just. Understand immediately???? Nobody knows how or why, but they just catch on so fast--adapt the language in a matter of weeks. Never underestimate the power of combined boredom, depression, and humor

I swear to god I just see MC taking them their Blanc/Rouge and being like “here you go sir, one enslaved moisture” and they just go fucking hog wild from day one. MC starts impersonating Theo when he leaves the room around Dazai, like fake deep voice “you all only hate me because you do not like me and I am mean to you. grow up.” Or like the MC meets a baby on her travels with Leo around town and she holds them and says v seriously and sagely “So you are Baby? I have heard tales of your exploits.” and Leo about loses his shit right there. They both think MC is the funniest person alive--they’ve never been more eager to throw a ring at someone in their entire life.

Also a bonus for my beloved Dazai:  MC, facing even the slightest inconvenience (like dropping her fork) in the most dramtic voice possible: Life is not daijoubu. Dazai: wheezing

MC, after watching Theo turn down a woman at the bar in the meanest way possible: bro quit letting the darkness consume you u r scaring the hoes Dazai, literally rolling around on the ground, half-drunk and dying:

MC, walking alongside Dazai and stopping to stare at her reflection in the River Seine. Dazai’s expecting some sad or twisted shit, since people often feel comfortable talking about those things around him, but instead she just: “Oh, it’s you. The source of all my problems.” And he about falls into the river from shock HAHAHA

At this point don’t be surprised if his next book is about an absolute madlad woman similar to MC

Napoleon finds it to be a delightful quirk more than anything? He doesn’t really understand it, but he finds it funny when they change their voice for effect or speak in exaggerated tones. If it’s just comprehensible enough for an outsider to understand--or Sebas gives him context--chances are it’ll send him into a laughing fit

For this one I just imagine MC singing that Ratatouille meme song obnoxiously bad while cooking, and Napoleon and Comte are just so wildly amused by it bc it makes zero sense and it’s only vaguely French at this point

MC @ Napoleon while they’re cooking brunch: Can I offer you a nice egg in these trying times?

MC, conflicted because she’s tired and wanted to sleep in but also got to see Napo’s cute sleeping face for a few hours: For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5AM on the day I can sleep in. Sebas: Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise MC: early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch Napoleon: laughing in agreement

Isaac is the type to be bewildered and concerned at first (especially when he hears the more nihilistic ones hoOOOoooOO BOY) but eventually begins to understand it’s some bizarre attempt at humor (that hurts Zack baby). While some part of him laments that it reminds him of Dazai and he’s secretly jealous of how she and Dazai bond over it, he will sometimes join in the chaos when the mood strikes him and he’s feeling mischievous

Isaac: How are you feeling? MC: Oh, I’m not Isaac: seconds from dialing 911 Isaac: Are you okay? MC: Oh yeah dw I just suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes you look like you’re an angry serial killer Isaac: say sike rn

Isaac, tutoring MC and correcting something:  MC, muttering while redoing it: The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math. Isaac: unable to help a laugh

One time MC was avoiding Isaac for fear of hurting his feelings and he just confronts her like: Isaac: back by unpopular demand, me! What’s wrong, MC pls MC was so hecking proud of him

Isaac, telling MC about a recent discovery he learned at uni from another professor: bones typically heal stronger after they’ve been broken--so long as they’re set properly, of course MC, looking him dead in the eyes: So what you’re saying is that I should break every bone in my body until I become superhumanly powerful? Isaac: please do not, no

Mozart and Jeanne are just. Totally lost. Why are you talking like that??? Why are you making “crab hands”???? They don’t understand. Maybe never will. They reach a point where they just kind of laugh and shake their heads, endeared by the oddity after they’re used to it and have determined it isn’t a threat/insult. 

MC: It’s a cold and it’s a brooooken, Waluigi. Waaaaluigiiiii...waaaahluigi..... Mozart: surprised, then starts snickering and playing along on the piano

Arthur, asking MC very personal questions out loud because he is an idiot sometimes: Soooo MC, are you a top or a bottom? MC: I’m a threat. (If he asks a second time, the response will be “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”) Jeanne, fighting a smile:

MC, about to punch an asshole: Your free trial of being alive has ended Jeanne, seconds from laughing for the first time in 100 years:

Also, because I genuinely can’t help myself. You know that knight meme like “Parry this you fucking casual.” I cannot stress enough that it is literally the personification of Jeanne’s entire character. I’m not even joking.

Arthur and Shakespeare are utterly fascinated by the rapid evolution of wordplay and the sheer hilarity. They will ask all about these so-called “memes” and ask for examples of them if MC can show them (either somehow accessing her phone or drawing them). MC draws Arthur the knife cat meme and he about a s c e n d s at the hilarity of it all, points and yells THEO IS HOLDING THE KNIFE. He is correct. They will be delighted and follow along eagerly, and--god forbid--will make their own based on late 19th century struggles.

Is this where Shakespeare got the idea for “What, you egg? stabs him” and “You are a saucy boy.”? I’m too scared to ask. Don’t even get me started on “The Fool jingled miserably across the floor.” That one is just too on the nose...

I can’t even imagine what would happen to Shakespeare if MC like translated vines and memes into Ye Olde English around him. Imagine she’s at one of those noble balls and hears rumors of these two guys living together and they’re so obviously gay and he says “And those gents w’re roommates.” And in the most false surprised tone ever MC just replies “oh mine own god, those gents w’re roommates.” Imagine having a wife that’s just as hilarious as you are and hits you with all the force of a bag of wet mice every time you speak in retaliation, he’s going into palpitations.

Every time Arthur does smth stupid MC just: “I Pretend I Do Not See It.”

Vincent is tickled pink by MC’s penchant for finding joy and/or amusement in nearly everything they do, and he smiles gently when he sees them muttering and laughing to themselves. He wants to be able to join them in what they love, but he has a harder time following along and understanding the darker humor sometimes. Mostly gets confused??? Please give him the easier ones to mimic and laugh when he tries--or just include him in your jokes MC. He’s babie your honor...

But he also. Will not. Stand any kind of self-deprecation or borderline verbal self-harm. He’s usually very easygoing and calm, but for whatever reason that stuff makes him go deathly quiet and upset.

MC, after something goes horribly wrong, hugging Vincent: Oh Vince, we really in it now Vincent: giggling a little despite his worries, relaxing

MC: Theo stop simping for Vincent that’s my job

MC, when Theo leaves the room and she gets Vincent all to herself: The evil is defeated.

MC: And this is where I would put my will to live...if I h a d one! Vincent: ;-; MC: oh shit, oh fuck, I was only kidding Vincent wait (MC was subsequently lectured and loved on for many hours)

Theo is conflicted because on the one hand, he loves to see you smiling and having fun. On the other, you’re clowning as hard as Dazai and Arthur and he can only handle so many monkeys in his circus. Most of the time he will roll his eyes and be the straight man of this comedy, but you might find him cracking a smile--or accidentally letting a chuckle slip past his lips now and again.

MC, after meeting Theo: I’m a nice person, but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people.

Theo, those first days: Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? MC: I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.

Theo: Every time I ask MC to explain “vibe check” to me she hits me with some kind of improvised weapon

MC, after the “incident” (you know the one): This year, I lost my dear lover Theo Theo, in the distance: QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I’M DEAD! MC: ;-; sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Sebastian is last because oh boy. OH BOYYYYY I LOVE HIM. Okay so the way I see this happening with Sebastian is just. So wild. Because at first he’s t r y i n g so hard to be the proper butler man. He does not meme. But then he starts to drift closer to what Niles from The Nanny was, where he’ll quip and joke in private or when the situation is just beyond the amount of absurdity he can handle without making a snarky comment. Everyone in the house can’t fathom how Sebas and MC got so close so fast, but there are points where they’re just “Are they even speaking English anymore???” It’s 11 times funnier than normal because Sebas almost never smiles or laughs when memeing, the deadpan quality of his playing along sends MC every time

Has ABSOLUTELY said “HEY. PANINI HEAD. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME???” jokingly when MC made a mistake in the kitchen. They laugh about it for y e a r s

MC: I can’t date someone who keeps a lamb as a pet, that’s so weird Sebas, brushing Lotte in front of MC: MC: MC: Okay, I will make an exception because she looks very polite

MC and Sebas, fully aware of the fame some of the men will reach in modern times: We will watch your career with great interest.  (I s2g that’s like half of Sebas’ rt right there I’m crying)

Sebas rt with Lotte be like that 500 dollar Mareep meme: “sometimes a family can be just a boy, his gf, and their 500 dollar two foot tall Lotte”

[incorrect-nozaki-kun]

JEHBDDJBDND MIKORIN'S THE TYPE OF GUY TO COMFORT THE GIRLS THAT ATSUMU SCREAMS AT TO SHUT UP i'm seeing a very specific y/n scenario where mikorin is like "how could he do that >:(((" and tsumu is just like "wow hes cute"

I HAVE MIYA TWINS BRAINROT RN AND I CONSTANTLY HAVE MIKORIN BRAINROT SO LETS ELABORATE

Under the cut bc I got carried away

So Shiratorizawa and Inarazaki have a game together and Mikorin wants to be supportive of his cousin Tendou so he goes.

And because he’s a wimp he drags Kashima with him.

Now Kashima vaguely knows Inarazaki players bc she’s seen them play Nekoma when she’s gone to games to bother support Yaku so when Atsumu steps up she’s just like

“Oh boy here we go”

Mikorin meanwhile is just watching the 2 rows of screaming girls wondering who the guy they’re screaming for is.

So Atsumu does his thing. Yells at some girls bc his character growth hasn’t happened yet and Mikorin is SHOOK ™

“That’s so mean I’m gonna make sure they’re okay.”

Cue in the DEAD SILENCE Mikoshiba “Wouldn’t known subtle if it beat him with a bad” Mikoto leaning towards the girls and just going

“Hey are you ladies okay that guy was a jerk.”

Inarazaki fans are SCANDALIZED

Kashima is MILDLY HORRIFIED

Tendou is DYING

Suna and Osamu are ALSO DYING

Aran and Kita are TIRED

And Atsumu is fucking LIVID

Because who does that guy think he is?!

With his dumb shiny hair and stupid pretty face and nice voice and oh shit.

Eventually the game finally plays, Inarazaki looses but only by a little and Atsumu is CONVINCED he was off his game because of Mikorin

“It’s that red haired guy! Shiratorizawa planted him on purpose to throw me off I know it!”

Meanwhile Suna off to the side

“Are you sure it wasn’t that you just suck?”

“FUCK OFF SUNARIN.”

At this point Kashima and Mikorin have made it to Shiratorizawa’s bench and are congratulating the team

Goshiki idolizes Kashima and you cannot convince me otherwise

And Tendou has decided to be a little shit to his cousin bc that’s what family is for

“Sooooo you really showed Miya huh?”

“The piss blonde hair guy? He was a jerk I wasn’t wrong.”

“Yeah but that’s his whole thing. It’s like a ritual. Hahaha maybe that’s why we won!”

And now Mikorin is embarrassed. 

Bc he threw off his ritual!

Now he’s gotta apologize!

But it’s Mikorin so he just kinda. Runs up to Atsumu.

“I’m sorry I threw off your ritual I didn't know but you were kinda being an asshole but also like my bad okay sorry bye.”

And runs away back to a dying Tendou and Kashima bc that’s hilarious.

Atsumu, Suna, and Osamu all fell in love a little with Mikorin at that moment.

“Dibs.”

“FUCK YOU YOU CANT CALL DIBS”

“TOO BAD I ALREADY DID FUCK OFF ‘TSUMU”

[deepdonutkid]

Please headcanon it! I agree with lit everything you've said, especially the arguing with Tommy and John being soft and supportive

John with a communist girl- head canon

author's note:

This is my first x reader thing, I guess. This is also the first request, sorts of. So thank you anon, whoever you are, for my first writing request on Tumblr.

Requests are still open btw

Okay, this was a little longer than I expected! And yes, John's kids are mentioned! I just love them and I could write another headcanon about them as well! With fan art, because I have clear pictures of them in my head.

I typed this on my phone, because rn I'm at my parents house with my crappy laptop and it's too slow for me. Usually I type so much faster.

I'm a communist myself so this was very funny to write, because I know my 'linke macker' or just 'mennes' and how to avoid them.

Warning: drinking, violence and bar fights

John always had a thing for strong women. He just doesn't like women who doesn't know what they want and are too shy to talk to men.

He thinks he women shouldn't be scared of talking to him, because he would never hurt a woman. That's why, he can handle shy girls. He doesn't want to carry the whole conversation and he doesn't like silence.

John wants someone he can talk to and also with. Full length conversation about everything. Which cigarettes are the best, if he should wear his cap or the other, what to have for dinner, which card game is the best game... Stuff like that

Since his first marriage he knows that in a good marriage it's you two against the problem and not you two against each other. That is the reason he is looking for a partner, someone he can rely on.

When he first heard your name, he laughed it off. A woman leading protests... He just couldn't believe other men would listen to a woman and follow her command, because he knows men too well and how they treat their wives.

Then he saw you on a pedestal giving a speech about women's rights and he was quite impressed by your volume and your powerful voice. Actually he was just passing by, but he had to stop and listen for a while. You made some fair points. Women did a lot of unpaid work, men could or would never do. But he had to go after all, because he had something to do.

He thought about you once or twice, but after seeing you in the Garrison for the first time, it was something he would never forget. You argued with a man, who confronted you about your speeches and told you to keep your mouth shut.

John was already on the edge of his seat, to help you out, when the man graped you. Faster than he could process it, the man went down. With unbelieving look on his face he stared at you. Never ever he had seen a woman like you. A woman a strong left hook like his.

Finally he stood up and made his way up to you. He grinned, completely smitten, and asked if everything was okay. You brushed it off. Of course, you didn't need help. No damsel in distress here!

Then he had to try something different, because he wanted to talk to you, more now than ever. But he seemed to get a clue, why so many others listened to your speeches and why so many man respected you. Just while standing there you claimed, what was rightfully yours, respect. Everything about you, your whole presence, was so powerful, even a little intimating, but that just turned him on even more. So he asked you about your political opinion on police violence and now it was your turned to be stunned.

Nobody outside of your party wanted to get in a discussion with you, but there he was right in front of you and the smile on his face was honest. He didn't tried to make fun of you. The Shelby was different than all men you had met before. So you went with him back to his table and just talked, talked all night and about all sorts of things.

You just couldn't believe you met a man like this, so charming, so respectful like this in the Garrison. All about him was interested. You felt for his voice and the glance in his eyes when you explained something to him.

Both of you didn't recognize it at first, but while talking you moved closer and closer to each other. Suddenly his hand went on your lap. He moved it away quickly and apologized with a smile. Then you took his hand back, while looking deep into his eyes. It was the moment you knew you passed the point of no-return.

Everything went pretty fast from there. He kissed you, you kissed him, his hands were all over you, despite being in public, and the casual night out ended in his bed.

When you woke up first, you wanted to get away just as fast as you arrived, but he stopped you. Right before you could leave the bed, John hold your hand.

"leaving already?" He asked: "let me make you a cup of tea first"

The way he said with his sleepy voice was all it took to make you stay after all

Then you heard something that made you nervous. The sound of small feet making their way up to this room, mixed with squeaking voice of a little girl

"you got kids?" You croaked

John nodded. "Didn't you know?" Because everybody in Small Heath seemed to know. Kids aren't a secret anyway.

No, you didn't and you shook head. You knew his name, his reputation, but otherwise you didn't bother to listen after the Shelby's name was dropped

Everything the Peaky blinders did was not really legal or nice, so you wanted to stay away from them and further troubles.

Now you slept with one of the Shelby brothers and wondered, if you made a mistake last night by walking home with him.

John saw the concern on your face. "You have a problem with that?"

You eyes widened and you shook your head again. "No. No! I love kids." After taking care of your younger siblings and the kids of of your older siblings and probably a dozen cousins, you knew you loved kids.

And you had a plan to get some children of your own, but you were to busy to work for women's rights and worker's rights and the revolution.

And as you got older you realized that most men took their women for granted, while they did so much for their husbands everyday. You didn't want that for yourself. And you did pretty well on your own. Why would you need a husband anyway?

But something in your heart melted while you looked at him with his kids. You just couldn't deny that and soon you became his girl.

Everybody seemed to know and they treated you different now. You disliked it, but there was nothing you could do about, so you just made your peace with that.

One evening John and you laid in his bed. The kids were already asleep. When John whispered: "I want you to meet my family."

Of course you saw them passing by and they greeted you. Once you sat with Arthur in the Garrison, while waiting for John. But you hadn't talked with them more than a few words.

Then again, you weren't so sure, if you would like to. You knew Tommy from before the war, while he was still in your party and a communist. But that was before the war changed everything. Tommy- you heard from others- became a cold-hearted asshole, who didn't even smile since he came back from france.

While being with him in the party, Tommy and you wouldn't stop "discussing things". Actually you two fought everytime and about every little political issue. One time he threw something at you. This was how much you liked each other and you still had the scar and your forehead from book he threw at you.

John stroked you head and said: "everything is going to be alright. You'll see." You nodded in agreement. If it was his wish, you just couldn't say no. And maybe you could get along with Tommy after all.

But no, it wasn't that easy. Polly, Arthur, Ada and Finn liked you so much, but with Tommy everything was still the same. So not exactly everything had changed after all.

The both of you couldn't stop bickering at the dinner table. It ended with you storming of and leaving. Or at least you thought this was the end.

Right after you slammed the door, you heard John yelling: "I was about to ask her, if she would marry me! Don't ruin this for me! This is my life."

Then you really had to leave. You were scared John would come after you and ask you right away, because you didn’t know what to say.

You ran straight to your parents home and hid there. When the panic vanished you knew your answer.

That night you sneaked to his house and knocked. John seemed so relieved to see you. “I looked for you everywhere, y/n!”

“The answer is yes.”, you sputtered with gleaming joy

It came out of nowhere and John just kept starring at you with the same confused expression

Then you added: “I want to be your wife”

You could see his brain processing this infromation. John still looked baffled.

A grin appeared on his face as he realized what you just had said. Just secounds later he pulled you closer for a kiss

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl