#all of us when we watched this for the first time: WHO IS THIS GUY WITH REINER???

[melminli]

I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻

BANG BANG BANG ll

summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.

prev. | masterlist

There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.

“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?

You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.

“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”

You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.

The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”

You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about six years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was really fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.

It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.

You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.

She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.

Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.

“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”

The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.

You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”

Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.

You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back. “ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”

Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.

[saemisic]

WHAT’S AFTER LIKE ?

𝓞𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙒𝙄𝙎𝙀 … ‘ new years with the enha boys ‘

𝓁𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝒸𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘢 & 𝒶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 ⦂ bf! ot7 x gf! reader ── 𝔀arnings. est relationship, pet names, mentions of the jeju plane crash( my condolences to those who’s families were affected, my heart goes out to each victims family) , NOT proofread , almost getting burned? && fluff fluff and more fluff ❔

ㅤ♡ྀི / sae's thoughts: hai guys, HAPPY 2025 GUYS OMG, i cant believe we survived 2024 ?! anyways this is way longer than i ever intended but i hope you like, its my first time writing ot7 >:).

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆.

The sweet aroma of spicy ramen filled your senses on the cool rooftop. The restaurant you guys went to with friends was lit up with exciting buzzing. The TV in the middle showing the Seoul center where a large crowd had gathered & a countdown, 1 minute left.

Laughter filled your ears as you turned back to your group of friends, heeseung among them.

"15...14...13...12..." people cheered loudly crowds gathering around the TV. You could spot heeseung nearby talking with one of his friends, smiling and laughing. As you tried to push your way through to him, you smelt alcohol, soju , bulgogi and more. Finally, reaching him right as you heard "10...9...8...7..." chants getting louder. Heeseung turned smiling at you as the crowd grew louder voices become harder and harder to distinguish.

"...6...5...4...3" was all you heard before his hot breathe kissed your neck , "right in time" you heard as the sparklers lit up the night. Suddenly you felt yourself being pulled into heeseung's warm body right as the firework went off. You felt his warm soft lips against yours as the loud crowds cheered and the night sky lit up. The kiss lingered, with a smile on both of your faces he sweetly mumbled "happy new year doll, i can't wait whats in store of us"

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠.

The soft music playing in the background of the restaurant you guys were sitting in. The gently clink of utensils against the fine China plates was all so high class. Yet it all didn't matter when the love of your life was sitting in front of you, scarfing down some pasta.

"Jay, slow down! this is fine dining, high class!" you scolded giggling.

He could only shake his head in response mouth full of pasta "hpmh babe you dont understand this is actually the best Italian cuisine in Seoul" he tried. You could the pops in the sky signaling that the start of celebration. Looking out the large window & seeing pink, yellow, green fireworks lighting up the city skyline. Down on the street people were crowding the tight alleyways with soju scent prevalent. When you turned back you were meet with his cat eyes mere inches away from your face.

Blushing pink, you quickly turned you head right to look at the diners. Before you had his hand gently pull your face back towards him.

" You know, having you by my side this year was the best thing?" he said softly staring at you. " before letting go and sitting back a smirk gracing his features. " don't do that, not in public" you muttered face bright red. Only humming in response as you two looked out enjoying the new beginnings.

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧.

The cold grass tickled your legs as you layed gently on the blanket set out. On top the hill, a perfect place to watch the fireworks and enjoy some dinner. Along with you and Jake was Layla, running around the grass with her ball. You placed out all the food right as the fireworks began. The city shimmered with lights as you felt jake sit next to you close to conserve heat.

"this is perfect babe" he said the wind blowing softly.

Layla came bounding back panting with her ball in her mouth, slobbered up. "Gosh layla, look at you , is this how you want to end the year?" you laughed taking the ball from the puppy and throwing out into the field. "She really loves that ball huh" you commented as you passed the plate of food. ""yea she does" jake laughs, his expression softening as another pink firework lit up both your faces.

Plopping down on the blanket, the two of you just lay there in each others arms enjoying the magical night.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧.

The sparklers in your hand turned all kind of colors when lit by the lighter. The pink, green, red all colors to represent a new year. Sunghoon wasn't too far away a soft smile as he watched you and Yeji play around with the sparklers. The pinks, greens and yellows all lit up the dark alleyway.

"Be careful, Y/N! don't burn yourself!" sunghoon called worry not on his face as he stared at the sparklers.

"i will hoonie, come have one" you offered turning towards the man. You also looked at Yeji, she was a little quite naturally, being introverted ran in the family. "Mhmm im good thanks" sunghoon replied back coming towards you, his larger frame enveloping you.

"wait ! omg yeji , sunghoon we should totally take some photos" you squealed pulling out your digital camera. Gathering close you snapped a couple of group selfies before handing the camera to Sunghoon. "Okay hoon, make sure the angle is good" you demanded. One photo you managed was you and hoon making and heart and after the photos were definitely insta worthy.

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨.

The TV lit up the cozy dark living room as you and Sunoo sat on the couch. All cozied up watching the new years celebrations. It was a quite new years for S. Korea after the devastating plane crash that took too many life’s. It was nice to see all the celebration around the world . Japan and Australia had some amazing firework shows, seeing the NYC ball drop was also a highlight of the night.

“ Wow, it really is amazing to see how these other countries celebrated the coming of 2025 isn’t it?” sunoo asked his arm around your shoulder.

“Yea, the fireworks have always been my favorite “ to replied a bit of hesitance showed. “I mean considering everything that 2024 brought I’m glad we still have each other” you said as you snuggled closer.

Quite nights like this were always the best, just the two of you enjoying the moment in the present. 2024 has been a hard year for everyone but you had each other so it was going to be okay.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧.

Maeumi was running around going absolutely crazy. That was the way he was , as you guys were getting the food to the table. Jungwon and you had come to Jungwons grandma’s house to celebrate the new years, you and his family were there.

The food smelt absolutely mouth watering , you couldn’t wait to sit and eat . “ you drooling babe” jungwon as voice came into focus as you stared at the grilled meat. Pink tinted cheeks as you whipped your hear the other way, “stop no I wasn’t “ you said flustered busying your self with anything else.

“ you’re too cute , it’s okay we are about to eat anyways” he laughed.

Maeumi came in all hyper and with his toy hanging from his mouth. It was destroyed beyond recognition but he didn’t seem to care. Sharing a look you both laughed at the hyper dog going crazy with his toys and with all the activities around him.

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢.

The large winter blankets was covering the both of you as you watched the celebrations. Ni-Ki had finally gotten the day off to spend with family but because his family was in Japan , he chose to spend it with you. The soft TV in the background as you go two held each other.

It’s been a rough year and you two had managed to survive the worst of it, showing that you were meant to be. “Ouh look babe, that firework is huge!” Ni-Ki exclaimed as he focused on the TV. “Wow, it’s so colorful too” you commented back seeing the fireworks show.

“Do you miss your family, would you rather spend time with them?” You suddenly blurted eyes distant. “What ?” The boy could only stare . A silence fell on the room before niki said “ I am with my family Y/N, you are a part of it” he said now sitting up.

“Okay then” you said focusing back on the screen before you tackled down in a fit of tickles. You shrieked “riki what the hell” you laughed as you tried fighting him off giggling as you were at his full mercy. your neighbors definitely didn’t enjoy two sqealing teenagers but oh well…

[lilreidgirl]

Bad guy

Summary: Your ex boyfriend, Rafe, thinks he’s a tough guy so you have to put him back in his place, sort of

Warnings: MDNI(18+), oral (fem receiving), nipple play and boob groping, bloody nose and punching, switch!reader and Rafe, TOXIC reader and Rafe, very possessive, swearing, nicknames/name calling (angel, baby, big man, little bitch, etc…), very heavily inspired by bad guy cause I have writers block so I can only write things based off of songs…

WC: ~1.4k

A/N: Heyy guys!! Sorry, I disappeared, I’ll try posting more. But also first post of 2025!!!!

Fucking idiot.

That’s all that ran through your mind when you say the blood splayed out all over his white shirt and the guy you were just flirting with’s face. Red stained all over the sand under the boy’s nose, more and more liquid spewing from it by the second.

“Fuck!” The guy — you think his name was Jonathan or something — screamed, hand coming up to cup his broken nose. “I- I think it’s broken,” he whined, looking around at the people surrounding him with panic in his horse voice, “That motherfucker broke my nose!”

Just as he yelled out the wonderfully endearing term, your gaze fell on said “motherfucker” sneaking away, using the commotion of Jonathan’s screaming to slip away without being seen.

Motherfucker thought he was so smooth, huh?

You scoffed as you followed.

Soon Rafe had lead you both to a completely different bay, a small one almost no one knew about, one he had shown you on your second date.

“Rafe!” You called out his name as you caught up with him, watching as he immediately turned around, slightly feral looking eyes landing on your own.

“What the fuck was that?” You spat out. Of course, you already knew the answer; he got jealous when he saw you — his ex — flirt with another guy and lashed out. What more can one expect from a man, right?

“Oh, you’re asking me that? You’re the one who’s flirting with all these fucking men at parties like a fucking slut! You’re mine! Mine.” Your eyes studied the way he was staring at you, the expression on his face was one you could always recognise easily. The rage, the savagery, the insanity.

You used to be the one to calm him down, to slowly make that look fade away and blossom into a smile. The day you broke things off with him you promised yourself to never be the one to do it again. It wasn’t your responsibility.

“We broke up.” Your words carried a heavy weight with them, the weight crashing down on Rafe almost instantly.

“You belong to me.” He stated, a fire that seemed to have originated straight from hell burned behind his usually piercing blue eyes, now just a dark navy swimming amongst the shadows of the night sky and the calm ocean waves.

“Oh yeah? Think you’re so tough, huh?” You couldn’t have held back the chuckle that left you if you had tried which you definitely didn’t.

“Get on your knees.” Your voice ordered.

“What?” His mien shifted to one you couldn’t quite read.

“C’mon, big man, you heard me.” The tone of your voice was taunting and you couldn’t help but smirk at the way it felt to say it.

“Get. On. Your. Knees. Now.”

With an undercurrent of hesitation, he sank to his knees, bare skin of his shins hitting the sand as he squatted down in front of you.

His eyes travelled down your body, clad in a black bikini and white shorts. The marks he had left on your delicate skin when you were together still slightly present, little pink spots placed where dark hickies once lay, tiny crescents of his nails dug into your thighs, memories of bruises on your knees from all the times he’d made them scrape down onto the ground.

The gawking at your body didn’t go unnoticed by you. You leaned down, bending your knees under you, ass resting on your ankles so that you were eye level with him.

“You always were rough, weren’t you?” Your fingers glided over the slightly rough area of your joints. “Just couldn’t get enough?”

It was obvious that the questions were rhetorical yet he still answered with a short and eager nod.

As a cruel grin grew on your lips, you took hold of Rafe’s hand and guided it behind you. Like clockwork he promptly tugged at one of the strings connecting the bow that was keeping your bikini tight around your chest.

The flimsy piece of swimwear dropped to the ground, covering the little sandy surface that now lay under it.

“You’re so fucking stunning, angel,” he praised, the nickname making you huff away a suppressed laugh.

His large hands reached up, slim fingers skimming over your smooth mounds.

“You sure you wanna do this, baby?” You asked.

“God, yes.” One of his hands enclosed around your right breast, squeezing gently while the other pinched the nipple of your left breast between his fingers, rolling over it with his thumb.

Straightaway your head fell back in pleasure, breaths coming out in small pants as you questioned, “Yeah? Once we start this again, it won’t end.”

To your ears it sounded like a threat, it possibly actually was, but to Rafe’s? He was convinced it was the best promise ever made to him.

“Please.” He sounded desperate and you absolutely loved it.

“Stupid.” You muttered under your breath, unsure if Rafe had heard the whispered comment or not.

“Don’t you see what I do to you, Rafey?” Your fingers clipped into his blonde hair, tugging you closer together as your ass rose from your ankles.

“Your mommy fucking hates me, your sister avoids me at all costs, your friends think I’m crazy and I’d quite literally fuck your daddy if he let me.” A loud whisper left him as you pulled him even closer, roughly shoving his face against your chest. Right away his mouth wrapped around your left nipples, his silken tongue flicking and tasting at your sensitive bud as he moaned.

“I’m the bad guy.”

With a brutal force you hauled his face away from your body and stared down at his eyes as they looked up at you with a hint of surprise.

“And you’re my little bitch, huh?” Your lips met each other in a heated, dark kiss as your hands cascaded all over each other’s bodies.

After a few seconds, when it seemed Rafe had finally come to his senses he jerked backwards, breaking the kiss.

“Don’t call me that.” He spat, anger snd disbelief costing his beautiful features.

“I can call you whatever I want.” You snapped back, dominate overtaking your tone.

Instantaneously Rafe grabbed your thighs and in one fluid motion laid down on the sandy beach and yanked you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist.

“Acting like you can fucking order me around now, huh?” He questioned, eyes boring into your face.

“Outta teach you a lesson.” Was the last thing he said before he turned you around to face the same direction as him and tugged down your shorts and panties, stripping you of all your clothes, before dragging you to hover over his face.

Shaky exhales left you as you felt his hot breath hit your bare core.

“Rafe…” you whined as your hands settled on his shirtless upper body, nails digging into his pecs.

“Shh, angel, just let me take care of you, okay?” Before you could even think about answers he found respite between your supple thighs, his hands tainting your body, kneading and bruising at your soft skin while his rough, curling tongue laps over your soppy cunt.

With loud moans and whines ripping through your body, you dragged your fingers from his bare chest to his neck, wrapping your hands around his throat, feeling his tongue stutter against your clit which made an even more forceful groan escape you.

“Fuck, Rafe!” Your hands tightened around his neck, grinding your sex down onto his nose and mouth. “I’m gonna come!”

Your words made his actions even more vigorous and soon you were reaching your high, moaning his name as he tongue-fucked you through your orgasm.

After the trembling of your legs had slightly calmed down you collapsed forward, resting against his torso.

You felt a small kiss be placed on your sensitive clit, making your body jolt and cry out.

When you’d felt you’d rested enough you got up, quickly grabbing your bikini and shorts and putting them back on.

Rafe sat up and watched you get clothed again, ruffling his hair to get a bit of the sand out.

“So… does this mean we’re back together?” He asked.

“Uhh…”

@emma-e-a

[peachhcs]

through the years with them

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

quinn, jack, and grace have always been in charge of luke, samy, and will growing up. whether it's in toronto, michigan, or massachusetts, it was always 3v3.

wc: 3.9k

happy new year everyone!!! wishing you all a beautiful and safe and happy 2025🩷 after writing flashbacks in my christmas fic, i was inspired to write more memories between the hughes-smith siblings growing up all together

au masterlist

WINTER OF 2011

it was the first real snowfall of winter which meant all the kids raced outside to play in the fluffy powder. ellen and colleen worked to bundle up all of their kids to make sure no one got frost bite while also lecturing at quinn to make sure everyone kept their hats and gloves on even if they didn't want to.

"yeah, mom. i know," the twelve year old rolled his eyes watching his little sister struggle to zip her coat before he went over to help her with it. samy grinned. "thanks q," she mumbled and grabbed her hat from ellen.

"you guys are all in charge of the little ones, okay? make sure they behave and if you go on the ice, be careful," it was all stuff the three older ones heard before.

"yeah, mom, don't worry. we'll keep the monsters in line," jack grinned and ruffled up luke's curly blonde hair. the younger boy swatted his hand away. "don't do that."

once everyone was bundled up, the kids were set loose into the hughes' backyard. toronto winters were a lot colder compared to boston winters, so will and grace weren't used to such frigid temperatures when they got outside. luke made a break for the rink as usual, so jack followed after him. will followed after them which meant quinn had to follow them too. grace helped samy through the piles of snow, always wanting to follow her brothers and do what they were doing.

"i wanna shoot," luke said, grabbing his stick from the fence. he just got on with his boots because he slid just as easily as he would on skates.

"let's do a game," jack suggested since that was something all six of them could do.

"no, last time we did it with all six of us someone got hurt," quinn immediately shot down the idea being the older brother he was. he was not about to take the fall again if someone got hurt because last time, moose nearly broke his arm and quinn got blamed for it when it wasn't even his fault, moose was just clumsy.

"come on, q. we'll be careful. we can't even go that hard with six year olds with us," jack looked over at will and samy.

"i heard that!" her little voice said and the middle hughes just shrugged.

"fine but if someone gets hurt, it's not my fault," the oldest hughes finally gave in and grabbed his stick. they split the teams so each of them had a fair advantage which meant quinn and jack were on opposite teams. quinn took his little sister and grace, who actually wasn't half bad considering she didn't even play. jack had luke and will, confident in their abilities to take down quinn's team filled with all girls.

the kids slid across the ice in their boots, occasionally falling down because they couldn't stop as easily, but it was still fun nonetheless. there wasn't a time those kids weren't out on the homemade rink their parents built for them. it was definitely a huge attraction whenever friends came over.

jack tried crowding quinn. the older boy passed over to grace who successfully skated passed luke and put it into the back of the net. she lifted her arms in victory.

"nice! we're up 2," quinn smiled, the two high fiveing as he slid by. jack let out a frustrated groan.

they set back up and went again. luke started getting a bit more aggressive as he tried pushing past the girls this time. he was very determined to score at least one goal.

"moose, eyes up or you're gonna hit someone not looking," quinn called as he watched his little brother run across the ice.

"my eyes are up!" luke yelled back, but as soon as he said that, he lifted his stick to take a swing at the puck that samy had. unfortunately, luke's eyes were not up and his stick flew right into samy's chin.

the girl fell over and tears immediately pooled in her eyes. the others' eyes widened as grace and quinn raced over to her. "oh shoot. shoot. she's bleeding," quinn panicked and cupped her chin where the blood dripped onto his glove.

"we need to get her back inside," grace said and the two helped the girl up.

jack, luke, and will stood there in shock as the blood dripped everywhere from the rink to the snow as grace and quinn rushed her back inside.

"come on," jack mumbled and pulled the other two back up to the house.

"am i gonna get in trouble?" now luke was crying because he didn't wanna get in trouble.

"mom!" quinn yelled as soon as they were inside. the urgency in his voice made ellen come running from the kitchen where her eyes widened seeing so much blood on both of her kids.

"what happened? is she okay?" samy was still crying as ellen grabbed her from quinn's arms.

"moose accidentally hit her with his stick," quinn explained as jack came in with luke and will.

"she's bleeding so much. jim! jim, get in here," ellen called and then colleen, bill, and jim were rushing into the foyer where the kids watched the scene unfold.

"i'll get her a cloth," colleen said.

"we should take her to the emergency room," jim said as he inspected the deep incision.

ellen and jim rushed around to get their coats on while quinn finally went to a still crying luke. "hey, it was an accident. it's not your fault," he tried shushing the younger boy.

"i didn't mean to hit her. is she gonna die?" the second youngest cried.

"no, she's not gonna die, moosey, don't worry. she'll be okay. mom and dad are gonna take her to the emergency room where they'll make her better," quinn reassured.

"we'll be back, kids, colleen and bill are gonna watch you," ellen said to her kids before her and jim hurried out the door with samy.

"it's okay, luke. it's not your fault, okay?" colleen came to comfort the boy too. she swept him into a hug where he cried into her shoulder.

"why don't you guys find something to do in the meantime? i'll let you know what your mom says," she said and the others nodded. quinn led them to the basement where jack immediately turned on the ps3.

"she'll probably just need some stitches and she'll be fine. it's like when i needed stitches in my finger after accidentally cutting it with a knife," jack shrugged, always the calm one in these situations.

"you were really lucky you didn't lose a finger," quinn mumbled.

"it didn't look that deep, so i'm sure she'll be fine. she'll be in high spirits once she gets back," grace said.

"i knew we shouldn't have played," the oldest hughes was still mad because he literally said something like this would happen and they still played anyway.

"are you blaming me now? it's not my fault. i wasn't even going that hard. luke was the one not looking," jack quickly shot back hearing his brother's words.

"you're the one who suggested playing. i didn't even wanna play!" now the brothers were arguing and grace quickly mediated.

"it's no one's fault, okay? no one's mad and no one's blaming anyone. just a freak accident," she said firmly which made the older boys finally ease off one another.

almost two hours passed when ellen and jim returned. they hurried upstairs to greet them where samy now had a large bandaid across her chin, but at least she was smiling.

"tell them how brave you were," ellen smiled as she helped get her coat off.

"i was super brave and i got candy after!" samy exclaimed and proudly showed her brothers the bandage. luke was hiding behind colleen's leg still feeling guilty about the whole thing.

"hey, now you'll have a wicked scar and you can tell people you fought a bear or something!" jack exclaimed making the others laugh. samy saw luke hiding and went over to him where he nervously stepped back afraid he would hurt her again.

"i'm okay, moosey, see?" the brunette showed her brother her bandaid proving she was okay. luke stared at her for a moment before pulling her into a hug.

"i'm sorry i hit you. i'm glad you're okay," he said.

"it's okay. i forgive you," samy said and the parents smiled watching the two make up.

"now remind me that you guys aren't allowed on the rink unless we're out there with you," ellen squeezed quinn's chin who flushed.

"right," the older boy mumbled.

SUMMER OF 2014

"oh, why are you so dressed up?" jack teased as quinn raced by everyone sitting down in the basement trying to stay somewhat cool. the past week had been boiling and after doing all of the outdoor activities that could keep them cool, everyone was now inside in the air conditioning attempting to stop sweating so much. jack watched his older brother run by looking rather nice for the late afternoon.

"none of your business," quinn mumbled as he stopped in the mirror to look himself over, fixing his hair.

"he's got a date!" samy exclaimed after eavesdropping on her brother's phone call the other day. everyone's eyes widened while quinn quickly glared at his sister.

"a date? no way," jack mumbled, sitting up more so he could watch his brother.

"is it with that girl you were flirting with at the bonfire the other night?" grace chirped making the middle hughes quickly snicker. now that they were getting older, the parents were finally letting the older three go out more with the neighborhood kids. there had been a bonfire a few days ago someone was hosting that quinn, jack, and grace attended.

"oooh, i knew you had eyes on her!" jack exclaimed making quinn's blush even worse.

"do you guys ever mind your business? especially you, samy. i thought we talked about eavesdropping on other people," the older boy mumbled in annoyance. the youngest hughes had been having a really big problem with eavesdropping lately and she was entering her tattletale phase that quinn dreaded because he already dealt with it three times.

"you were talking loud. what was i supposed to do? not listen?" samy shrugged.

"yes, not listen," quinn said.

"it's gonna be fine, don't worry. she seemed to really like you," grace hummed as she got up to help the dark-haired boy with the last of his buttons in his haste to fix his hair.

"you think so?" quinn wondered feeling some self doubt in himself. he'd never really been on a date before, but he did know that he had to pay for her things and hold the doors open for her and possibly hold her hand if that's what she wanted.

"i know so because she even asked me about you when you guys were done talking. i said you're a really cool hockey player and one of the best big "brothers" i have," grace's words brought a smile to quinn's lips hearing her say that. a bit of relief flooded his system.

"thanks, gg," the boy smiled down at her as she finished his last buttons.

"looking spiffy. hope you guys kiss tonight!" jack exclaimed making the other littles chuckle.

"shut up," quinn rolled his eyes and looked at himself one more time.

"when are we gonna be old enough to go to bonfires?" luke complained, his face in his hands.

"when you're twelve," jack said with a snicker, always boasting about his privileges that he had that his younger siblings didn't.

"so next year!" luke exclaimed with excitement.

"aw wait, that means you're leaving me with will," samy made the realization and the younger blonde made a face.

"hey, rude," will rolled his eyes.

"maybe that means you guys will finally get along if you spend some time together," jack mumbled and slid back into the couch to continue gaming.

"whatever," samy mumbled and rolled her eyes. she definitely took after jack's sassy attitude.

they all wished quinn goodbye as he rushed out of the house a few minutes later. while we was gone, grace and samy decided to bake cookies while the boys stayed downstairs playing on the wii. the oldest hughes didn't return until a few hours later where a very lovestruck expression sat on his features.

"so? how'd it go?" jack exclaimed when caught sight of his brother.

"did you kiss??" luke added.

"oh they definitely kissed," jack commented when he saw quinn's rosy cheeks.

"it was great. she was really nice and we're gonna try and hang out again before summer ends," the older boy explained briefly.

"ooh, someone's in loveeee. quinn and rachel sitting in a tree. k-i-s-s-i-n-g. first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage," the youngest hughes brother teased making quinn smack his arm.

"shut up," the boy grumbled. the others just laughed as quinn ran upstairs to hide for the rest of the night and text rachel. being a teenager first meant all of the younger ones had a million and one questions for quinn when it came to dating and just being a teenager in general.

SUMMER OF 2020

samy came down the stairs, her phone in hand and ready to walk out the door when quinn, who caught a glimpse of her outfit, immediately stopped her.

"where are you going?" he crossed his arms and the girl rolled her eyes.

"i'm going out," she shrugged and the vagueness nearly pissed the older boy off. the others caught wind of the conversation and poked their heads out from the kitchen.

"out where dressed like that?" quinn asked again. her shirt was cut low and the skirt she had on was way too short for quinn's liking because he was not letting his baby sister leave the house like that.

ellen, jim, colleen, and bill were gone for the weekend up north for a wedding which meant quinn, jack, and grace reverted back to their roles of being in charge with them gone. quinn was the first one to crack down and the younger brunette huffed as she eyed grace watching the exchange happen a few feet away.

"just out. will and i were invited to this bonfire. i don't know what the big deal is," samy began and tried looking at grace to back her up on this one and get quinn off her back.

"will's not the one dressed like he's gonna get laid," quinn shot back.

"okay, that was a bit much, q," grace finally cut in.

"what? look at her outfit! she's not fooling anyone," the older boy stepped aside so everyone else could take in the youngest girl's outfit choice for the night.

"this is literally what you were doing when you were my age, i don't understand why you're being a brat right now," samy argued back and quinn's gaze snapped back to her.

"you're the one being a brat, not me."

"okay, okay. where are you guys even going? who's bonfire is it?" the older blonde stepped in to mediate like always. she glanced between her brother and samy.

"it's literally two doors down from here. it's a five minute walk," samy said and looked at will who nodded.

"is that tommy's house? me and him used to be close," jack chirped up.

"yeah, his sister is hosting a small thing for people in the area. it's not even gonna be big. there won't be alcohol," samy added and quinn scoffed.

"i've heard that one before because i've used that one before," he mumbled.

"you're not even my dad why are you acting like this? i thought siblings were supposed to like..cover for one another and shit. did turning 21 get to your head?" samy turning fifteen had been rough on everyone. it wasn't that quinn didn't trust her, it was that he didn't trust other people because he lived through all of this already. he just wanted to look out for her so she didn't make the same mistakes he did when he was fifteen.

"someone's moody.." luke muttered under his breath making jack laugh and grace hit his arm to shut up before it set either of them off anymore.

"what if luke goes? will that make it any better?" samy pointed at her brother standing off the the side. the second youngest immediately shook his head.

"no, no don't bring me into this. i don't really wanna hang out with fifteen year olds," luke mumbled.

"ouch," will joked.

"you know what i mean," the curly brunette said.

"what will make it better is if you change your outfit. i don't approve of this," quinn eyed his sister's shirt and skirt again, shaking his head.

"why? this is literally what grace was wearing when she was my age three years ago. it's not even that bad. it's hot out," the older siblings exchanged a glance while they figured out what to do.

"what if we compromise? you're wearing a zip up hoodie with that and you and will are not to leave without one another, got it? you have to come back here together, no excuses," grace finally said and looked at quinn for approval. the older boy rolled his eyes but nodded.

"ugh, fine. whatever," she ran back upstairs to find a hoodie. quinn breathed out a sigh while jack and luke just snickered.

"god, i hate it here," the older boy mumbled and grace reached over to rub his arm with a small chuckle.

"teenagers, am i right?" jack snickered, reaching over to nuzzle his brother's head.

"don't talk to me about teenagers right now," quinn said and they heard samy's footsteps on the stairs again. she came back with a black zip up hoodie over her shirt.

"better?" she asked and quinn finally nodded.

"better. thank you. be safe, be good. don't do something stupid. look after each other. call if you need anything," quinn said to the two as he sent them on their way.

"yeah, we know. bye q, bye guys," samy rushed will out the door before they were stopped again and the oldest hughes blew out a sigh. he glanced at the others who laughed.

"do i remember being 15," jack shook his head slightly and wandered back into the living room.

"what a horrible age," quinn mumbled.

FALL OF 2022

thanksgiving was in michigan this year. the smiths flew over a few days before and while samy was out on a date, the other kids were at home catching up. it was still a bit foreign to have the youngest hughes out on a date the night before thanksgiving, but ellen cut the chirping from her brothers and let her go. while they talked about samy's date and mumbled things about how grown up she was now, will stayed silent.

the idea of samy out on a date bugged him way more than he wanted it do and the feelings he'd been having the past month and a half were confusing him still because on one hand, samy was still his best friend and the girl he grew up with. on the other hand, she was starting to become all the blonde could think about.

luke noticed his friend's quietness first. anytime they talked about kevin will would go silent. they didn't know about the jealousy brewing between the two boys over the youngest hughes nor did will really wanna tell them.

"you're being weird and quiet," luke being luke though always pointed it out. quinn, jack, and grace's gazes snapped over to the younger blonde.

"you okay?" grace asked her brother and he shook her pestering hand away. "yeah, i'm fine," he mumbled.

"i've heard that one before," jack teased a bit.

"what's up? do you not like kevin or something?" luke poked some more and the blonde's face burned.

"you could say that," he mumbled embarrassingly and that made the other siblings raise their eyebrow.

"oh?" they all quickly became curious in what will was thinking, but the blonde didn't wanna explain because explaining meant admitting the possible feelings he felt for samy and he was not about to do that in front of her brothers.

"i just don't really like him. simple," will shrugged and hoped that would get them off his back. he walked away before they could interrogate more too. that made the four exchange a glance at the younger boy's strange behavior.

"what was that about?" jack mumbled when will was out of earshot.

"he's been weird lately. i don't know why," luke shrugged but he didn't know anything more and also never poked to ask more.

quinn, being the observer he was of all of his siblings, had a feeling he knew exactly what was on will's mind. he's seen it before because he's felt it before. being 17 and having obvious feelings for someone was pretty easy to see, at least that's what quinn thought.

later, he found will on the back deck on his phone. quinn approached carefully, "hey," the older boy said. will looked up at him, curious, "hey?"

"your little..whatever earlier..i know how you feel," the older boy sat down beside will for a moment and the blonde's cheeks flushed. he avoided his gaze.

"you do?"

"come on, smitty. i was 17 once too," a small laugh left quinn's lips.

"i don't even know if i like her. it's been..weird these past few weeks," the blonde finally admitted like he was embarrassed even though there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

"you know if anyone was gonna catch feelings between all of us i had a feeling it would be you and samy," the dark-haired boy laughed to himself.

"what does that mean?" will pinched his eyebrows together.

"i don't know. you guys have grown pretty close over the past few years. i remember when you hated one another and then suddenly all you did was hang out together. it's not hard to tell, will," the older hughes poked will's arm and he flushed again.

"oh."

"i also don't like kevin. i'd definitely prefer you if anything did happen.." quinn said with a smirk.

"uh..well i don't even know if samy likes me. she probably doesn't so i wouldn't get your hopes up about that," the blonde said.

"i'm just saying. you never know. things happen. things change. either way, i get how you're feeling and if you ever need to talk about it, i'm here," quinn didn't wanna poke will too much about it so he left it at that as he got back up.

the blonde was left to think about the older boy's words until samy got back home an hour later. he joined her brothers in asking her out the date went to which she said it went fine.

"you guys are annoying," the brunette mumbled as she snacked on some chips.

"we're just nosy, actually," jack snickered to himself.

"yeah, really nosy. i'm gonna change," samy rolled her eyes and disappeared upstairs. will met quinn's glance who winked and the younger boy flushed.

if anything, all the older siblings noticed will's longing looks and eventuall samy's as the year went on, they just chose not to say anything because after years of thinking the other had cooties, it was hard to believe there might've been feelings there.

[nothoughtsjustficrecs]

This was, without a doubt, a phenomenal read. Seriously, the humour is impeccable; my cheeks hurt from laughing so much. I’ll have to re-read this story one day, perhaps multiple one days (yes I’m aware that makes no sense). And their relationship is amazing, I truly love it and every second of this story.

Thank you for writing this absolute masterpiece and sharing it with us!

When I was reading, I decided to write down my thoughts as I go because I knew I'd forget otherwise so below this is literally just the thoughts I wrote down because I do not have the brain power to convert them into actual fully coherent comments [I'll put them below a read more cut for the sake of spoilers and such]

-

“ “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?” ” this literally made me snort

Okay this lil comments are making me laugh “ he persuaded the idiot to get a rom-com instead / planning to rob the CDs ” he has such high hopes and thoughts of others 😂

“ Now, he did not want to sound pathetic ” oh no please do sound pathetic, I kinda like it

“ But then, who was watching Disney movies at that age? ” me, damn Vernon, go back to being pathetic

“ He had, in his own words, called you a hag. ” cackling

“ You had to grip the counter, cackling at the response ” we are one. Hags who cackle together and all that

“ Maybe life can be unfucked ” okay I need to stop highlighting every phrase that makes me laugh or else I’ll highlight half the fic at this rate, stop making me laugh (im kidding pls never stop)

“ Mr. Filmbro. Miss Disney-Hag ” aw they have cute lil nicknames for each other already

Omg is he about to rob his lil sister???

Omg Vernon you absolute shit omg

“ Filmbrother ” I have literal tears in my eyes why is that so fucking funny

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

Those first texts just imagine receiving that, oh Vernon you silly boy. But tbf I probably would’ve forgotten to add my name too, so I get it

“ “I like my men a little pathetic.” ” you know, im starting to think you just wrote me in this story because she is so relatable

“ “That seems more like a you problem then!” ” okay im convinced you literally copy & pasted me now, I’m always saying that

But seriously im loving this so far! the shenanigans ehehehe

“ “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.” ” I am wheezing

“ “And Batman is the same thing, except he dresses up as a fucking bat…stupid furry.” ” I have never heard someone call Batman a furry before but man now I’m never going to be able to forget it. Nananananana furryman!

Omg im laughing so hard at the disc swapping, and mingyu being dumb holy shit my chest hurts

“ “Let’s watch a fucking Disney Princess movie.” ” the man knows what to say to win a gal over

“ shuts down like a lagging desktop when it tries to run the Sims ” damn, that hits close to home

The whole lantern scene is so fucking cute and written so well I can so easily imagine it all, I love it

“ “If I am to be your exception, _____, then I suppose you can be mine.” ” SCREECHING THAT’S SO CUTE

If his favourite movie is anything other than Shrek I quit

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

YESSSSS SHREKKKK

“ VERNON LOST HIS VIRGINITY WITH SHREK PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND. ” no but this reads like a newspaper headline and im just wheezing at the thought of seeing an article titled that

“ 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) ” I snorted. But now im very curious how that experiment would go

“ Within this myriad of fans, you tried to search for the most mentally ill one ” im back to highlighting every other line because fuck did that make me laugh

“ “Where are you, kitten?” you purposely growled, lowering your voice an octave. “Daddy’s waiting.” ” omg “ “Kitten actually killed himself after hearing that,” was his purposeful monotone. ” I love them

“ a boy engulfed in all the pinks of the colour wheel ” I am flailing and kicking my feet omg I love a man who is down bad for his partner

I kind of wish they just stood there staring dumbly at each other with their phones to their ears still, just because the mental image makes me laugh, but you’ve done enough of that already my cheeks hurt so probably good you didn’t write that. My cheeks might break.

They are seriously so cute omg, partners who break and enter together stay together 💗

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

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“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. 

[strawberrystepmom]

bakugou x f!reader. part 2 of a mini series called by heart. part 1 can be found here. cw: mentions of alcohol, implied sexual content, weddings. | word count: 1.7k, reading time: ~10 minutes

The welcome dinner went off without a hitch. The bride and groom sat next to each other, glowing and in love and sneaking glances the entire evening. Several other bridal party members and assorted early arrivals joined the soon to be newlyweds, yourself, and a very frosty Katsuki. You pushed bangs belonging to a very drunk Shinsou Hitoshi off of his face to help him see and sent him off to the elevator safely. That call a member of the bridal party very nearly made to her ex while she was kind of drunk and missing him? Thwarted thanks to the communal pep talk she was given before you took her up to her room.

There will always be small dramas whenever the entirety of your group of friends is in one room, usually ones that everyone communally knows about. The issue is that nobody knows about what happened between you and Katsuki so the tension seems kind of out of nowhere.

“You were like all over him the last time, what happened?” Ashido asked you with a sigh while you waved her off and opted to remove the heat from yourself by asking her about her relationship status. 

If she’s noticed you know it’s going to become an unavoidable issue if the two of you cannot talk it out. The need to just get past it influenced your decision to invite him into the hotel bar with you to start with, as bad of an idea as it’s proving to be. Public is probably not the best venue to have a personal conversation but you know he doesn’t want you in his room and you definitely don’t want him back in yours and this bar is just intimate enough it’s unlikely anyone will overhear unless they’re trying very hard. 

“Are you going to actually talk or are we going to sit here and watch each other drink all night?”

Despite yourself, you laugh at his annoyance. It’s funny that he thinks he has the right to be at all when he’s the one who created this shitstorm to begin with. 

“If anyone should start us off, it should be you. You’re the one who left.”

Groaning, he opens his mouth to speak. You stop him, putting your hand out, suddenly feeling emboldened enough to make the first move despite the pit it creates in your gut.

“I never thought you were that type of person. Every other man, of course because that’s just how men behave. You, though?”

With a head shake, you lift your glass and tilt until the rim is almost fully touching your mouth to truly pull every last bit of vodka from the bottom of it. 

You won’t let him see how much what you’ve perceived as his rejection has affected you. It’s the mantra you’ve been repeating since boarding your flight this morning even though you did cry on the way to the airport, silently and alone.

It’s stupid to cry or be upset at all but it could be that a bit of you hoped that he saw you as special and still does to this day. Unfortunately him coming as close as he’s ever come to fucking you and subsequently running pretty much convinced you the opposite is true. So you’ve cried and asked your friend who is set to be a beautiful bride in two days what she thinks and she’s told you that you need to be the one to talk to him about it and you’ve been stubborn and she’s been irritated and now you’re here, using sheer will to keep yourself from crying and poorly attempting to lap up severely watered down vodka to make up for the courage you naturally lack.

Sliding your glass onto the bar, you place your elbow atop the counter as well and rest your chin against your balled fist. 

“Not you, Katsuki. And I guess it could really be that I never knew you at all so feel free to tell me I’ve always been wrong at any time – it just kind of feels like shit to uh, get played by the one guy you hope won’t do it.”

Averting your eyes, you keep them toward the back of the bar. You really don’t want to look at him right now, aware of what that pitiful look on his face that he keeps trying to hide with a grimace will do if you look at it for too long. You aren’t world class when it comes to being a boundary enforcer and it would take very, very, very little for him to get back into your good graces. 

Something like a tiny, little, so minute and small you can barely picture it…

“I’m sorry.”

Exhaling loudly through your nose when he says the very small words you’ve been hoping to hear, you now are left considering how to accept them gracefully. It would be a lie to tell him you haven’t been aching and lying is something you aren’t in the business of doing very often so you don’t want to let him off the hook that easily. 

You open your mouth to speak and he stops you this time, raising his free hand while he cradles his half drained glass in the other.

“This makes no sense and I’m not sure how to say it but I feel like I forget how to act when you’re around.”

Tilting your head to the side curiously, you look at his glass and then back at him but he only harrumphs at your insinuation. 

“I’m not drunk right now, this is barely even a drink to begin with,” he swings his crystal glass around with a frown. “Every time we’re together I feel like someone else. You keep me up all night talking and I never tell you to stop or that I don’t care because for some inexplicable reason, I do give a shit even if this is the only time we see each other. And my god you do this fucking thing…”

He trails off, setting his glass down on the bar beside yours to try and contort his face into the best version of yours that he can. There’s something uniquely hilarious about seeing such a stoic man forcefully widen his eyes, looking around the mostly empty bar coquettishly and blinking. Pressing your palm over your mouth to stifle a cackle, you shake your head and he throws his hands up and leans in, the tip of his nose shockingly close to yours while his expression falls back into its natural state.

“I don’t speak eye contact. What the hell does that mean? What do you want from me?”

Your head remains tilted but the lightness in your expression falls, your eyebrows furrowing.

“I mean, what I want from you is friendship? Someone to talk to and hang out with outside of these shitty, hectic wedding weekends?” Scoffing, you desperately look around the bar to locate the tender and order another drink. “God, is that really what you wanted to say to make this whole thing right?”

The man sighs, defeatedly.

“No and if you’d listen to me you would know it.”

All you do is shrug, blink wildly, and lean in his direction to emphasize how ridiculous you find what he’s saying. 

”Okay awesome, well I am listening and now all I know is that I make you late for bedtime when we hang out. That still doesn’t tell me why you left that night.” 

Pinned by his inability to say the find even a slightly right thing to say, he recalls why he didn’t want to have this conversation with you at all and originally planned to dodge and avoid as much as possible over the course of the weekend. Granted he has had over a year to come up with a decent lie and hasn’t. He could also pretend to be the asshole everyone seems to think he is and just brush it off. Something keeps him from veering into flippant behavior and it’s an urge to protect your feelings as a means to say thank you for the good memories even if the two of you do not make a single one to add to the scrapbook during your best friends’ shared wedding. 

Finally convinced that you’ve intimidated him enough, you lean back against the chair and cast a glance that screams ‘your move’ so loudly the childish version of him that still lingers in the back of his head on occasion wants to scream it right back. Blessedly, he’s more in control of himself and chooses instead to say what has been heavy on his heart since the early morning hours he left your side knowing he’d be hurting someone he cares about in the process.

“Because if I stayed we would have probably ended up going all the way and I didn’t want us to do that while we were drunk, alright?” Setting his glass down with a thud, he rises from the barstool. “You can believe me or not if you want to but I'm done talking about it. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Have a good night.”

You watch his every move despite remaining practically stuck to your chair and inside your feelings, his thick fingers digging into his pocket for his wallet to slap a few paper bills down onto the bar in an effort to continue behaving like the man you used to assume he is. 

None of what he said explains why he jumped to the nuclear option of leaving yet there would be no reason for him to lie about something so significant when you’re already pissed off. Even your instincts are telling you that this is the honesty you’ve been hoping to eventually receive. 

“Katsuki.” He looks up from his hands when you say his name, eyebrows raised and mouth drawn into an unamused line. “I believe you.”

He nods though it doesn’t seem like he necessarily believes you and turns to exit, leaving you with little besides more questions.

For instance: has he thought about what it would be like to have sex with you sober before? 

It’s the most insufferably shallow thing to take away from what was said, barebones as it was and truthfully it’s less about what his words were and more about the uncharacteristically sheepish and hurried manner in which he spoke them - like he was making a confession and not an apology.

Shaking your head, you rise just as he did and toss your own cash down on the bar. At bare minimum you can say that the mutual axe sharpening appears to have ceased for now.

[siri-ike]

Summer of change

Chapter 5

First prev

For some reason, Steph had insisted on leaving the morgue in a hurry. Not fear, though! She’d specified that.

Danny wouldn't have minded staying. Last time he’d gone with a strange girl to a scary basement, he’d died. So this was certainly an improvement.

"Next we should go to Amusement Mile" Steph suggested.

"Amusement Mile? That's, what,” he joked, “A street full of amusement parks?"

"Yep!" She grinned wickedly. "And they're abandoned."

This girl wants to die.

That's it, that has to be why she's like this, just like Sam, except this girl doesn’t have ghost hunting equipment or a superhero ghost friend. Well, that she knows of.

Danny narrowed his eyes. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"Some say that every inch of it is haunted," she regaled, completely ignoring his accusation question. "Others say that villains rent it to use as headquarters. But I say that there's no reason both can't be true." There was a sparkle in her eye.

Oh, so she does wanna die, good to know. A wiser man would stay away from her, but not Danny Fenton. The guy who once snuck into a creepy hospital that he knew was haunted. Just because his whole school was "infected" with "ghost."

"You never did tell me what you were in for." he questioned.

All Steph did was giggle as she skipped out the door.

OK. That wasn't at all suspicious. With his luck, she's probably an arsonist or a fan of comics.

She was just as cryptic leading him away from the station, down the streets, and through dark alleys. Before long, he had no idea where they were or how to get back.

Why does he keep letting strangers take him to second locations?

Only when he looked thoroughly lost did she start talking.

She swung around and held out her hand, "Stephanie Brown." Emphasizing her last name.

"Danny Pha-aan-ton." He placed his hand in hers. Smooth as sandpaper.

"Faaaan-ton?" She repeated skeptically.

"Fenton." His voice cracked. If he ever managed to actually die, it might just be from embarrassment.

Then, in the distance, he hears faint music.

_______

Either this kid's an idiot, or that was a fake name. Context so far isn't helping.

Steph perks her ears up at the sound of a carousel. "We're almost there." She grins. And the boy immediately looks... excited? Wasn't he against this just a moment ago?

The entrance to the first amusement park was worn down, wooden boards producing a loud creeek with every step. Even daylight couldn't make this place look welcoming. Her parents would hate it.

"Let's check out the haunted castle." Danny suggested.

"Oh? Wanna pull another prank, do you?" She paused. "How'd you do that anyway? You couldn't have been there before, I watched you stare at the filing cabinets for 15 uninterrupted minutes."

_______

Yeah, there's no explaining that. "A prank? No, that was just ghosts. Morgues are full of them, you know," he joked, "And if you want to see more of them, the haunted house would be your best bet." He tried to act cool, which was almost impressive, knowing just how much uncoolness she had so far witnessed from him.

"Would it now? And what makes you the expert?" She teased, already walking towards the shoddy wooden firehazard castle.

Her piercing eyes prying for information. Danny, the sly fox that he is, confessed everything. From his parents being ghost hunters to the age at which he stopped wetting the bed (she didn't ask), he even told her about that time he had a mullet. Somehow, he did keep his powers to himself.

By the time he finally stopped confessing, they had already gotten to the highest part of the castle... and Steph was nowhere to be seen.

Sunlight lit up most of the room through the gaps in the ceiling. Every footstep was accompanied by a subtle creak of the floorboards. She's obviously planning to jump out and scare him, so would it kill her to sneak? He stares intently, knowing exactly where she is.

Would it be nicer to pretend to be scared? Sure. But Jazz always said “Niceness is performative, Danny!” So a fake scare wouldn't be fair.

"Steph?" He calls towards the slightly more shaded hallway, which so happened to be the only exit. "If you're trying to scare me, might I recommend the hall of mirrors," he teases, "Or whatever that building with the giant clown on it was?"

Suddenly, something landed on the floor behind him. On instinct, he turned and shot a blast of ectoplasm at the noise.

"I knew it!" She squeaked from the doorway behind him.

"Wha-?"

"You're a meta, aren't you!?"

Looking closer at the pile of ash on the floor, it looked like it used to be a backpack. His backpack.

"Is that my bag?" He asked, annoyed.

"Don't worry! I took your stuff out, and replaced it with junk I found in here. Didn't think you'd destroy it, though." She said as though it were the most normal thing in the world. "What was that? Some sort of laser? How far can you shoot it? And how big? What's it made of?" She started rambling. “You know, I suspected something was up when your eyes glowed back at the station, but when you gave me a fake name, it was clear you were hiding something. Do you know any other meta humans? She paused, but not long enough for him to answer. “Obviously I don't think all metas know each other or anything, but you must have sought out someone who could relate, right?”

_______

Thank you to @bespoke-nautilus for proofing

@ladyredmoon13 @ryuukthehatter @sonrium @niamcarlin @sunnysolaria @tiffanyhart13 @tkiesai @not-your-average-url @lurukifennecfox @atomicsheepscientist @glowstickia @superbpastanickelzonk @persephonedevoted @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @howtogetblinded101 @ultra-stormsaga @piece-of-pierce @random-fandom-place

What part of an amusement park should they get ambushed at go to next?

It can be anything from any amusement park.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

When your requests are open can I request a fic where the reader is dating Sebastian Stan and someone online or in person says something rude to her and so Seb stands up for her?

I Will Always Stand Up For You » Sebastian Stan

Pairings: Boyfriend!Sebastian Stan x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Someone says something rude to you and Sebastian stands up for you.

Warnings: Fluff, language, insecurities, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @marvelobsessed134 🩵

A/N: I used Google translate for the Romanian translations. My apologies if I got anything wrong.

Translations: Dragă: sweetheart | Prinţesă: princess

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

You walked in a coffee shop you and Sebastian always meet up with one another at when one of you is busy. You sat down at yours and his usual table and waited for him. Sebastian is currently in a meeting. You decided to send him a text.

You: I’m waiting for you in our usual spot🥰

Sebby🩵: That’s great. I’ll see you in a little bit. I love you❤️

You: I love you too❤️

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet message. All of his messages to you make you smile and blush. You and Sebastian have been dating for a couple months and it always feels like the first time when he says “I love you” to you.

You got up and ordered a coffee for you and Sebastian while you waited for him. You then sat back down and decided to scroll through social media. You were so focused on your phone that you didn’t hear someone sit down at the table you’re sitting at.

“Hi.” You heard a girl say.

You looked up from a phone to see two girls and a guy sitting across the table from you. They look college aged. You shut your phone off and gave them your full attention.

“Uhh hi?” You say more like a question.

“You’re that girl.” The second girl says.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. The girl made it sound like her and her two friends knew you.

“Do I know you guys?” You asked.

“No, but we know who you are.” The guy says.

“You’re Sebastian Stan’s girlfriend right?” The first girl said.

“Yes I am.” You answered with a smile.

You assumed they were fans so you didn’t think much of it.

“We have a question for you.” The guy says.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Why is Sebastian dating a girl like you?” The second girl asks.

“Excuse me?” You rose an eyebrow at their question. “What do you mean a girl like me?” You asked.

“You’re not his type.” The first girl says.

“Plus you’re not that pretty.” The second girl says.

You didn’t say anything. You stared at them silently. You watched them stand up and move to a different table, sitting at a table on the other side of the coffee shop. You glanced over at them, seeing them pointing and giggling at you. That was enough to tell you they were still talking about you.

You faced forward and stared at the table, your fingers playing with the necklace Sebastian bought you for yours and his one month anniversary. You were so caught in your thoughts that you didn’t realize tears were rolling down your cheeks. You sniffled and continued to fiddle with your necklace. You were pulled out of your thoughts when Sebastian texted you.

Sebby🩵: I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few minutes

You: I’ll be waiting🥰

You sighed shakily and shut off your phone. To distract yourself, you decided to play with the sugar packets in that was in a little container. Tears continued to roll down your cheeks and you sniffled every now and then.

“Now she’s crying like a baby.” One of the college kids says in a mocking tone.

You felt yourself getting smaller the more you heard them. A few minutes go by and Sebastian walks in the coffee shop, going straight to the table you’re sitting at.

“Hi, baby.” Sebastian greets you, kissing the top of your head before sitting down across from you.

“Hi, Seb.” You say quietly.

Sebastian noticed your cheeks were wet with tears and you were unusually quiet.

“What’s wrong, prinţesă?” He asks with worry in his voice.

“It’s nothing.” You mumbled, picking at the plastic lid of your coffee cup.

Sebastian moved the cup to the side and held your hands in his.

“Talk to me.” He murmurs softly.

You continued to stay quiet and looking down. Sebastian didn’t miss the way your bottom lip quivered. That was enough to tell him something was wrong.

“Dragă.” Sebastian tilted your head up so you were looking him in his eyes. “Tell me please.” He says softly.

“A little bit ago, a few college kids asked me why you were dating a girl like me cause I’m not your type and I’m not pretty.” You tell him, feeling your eyes tearing up again.

“Who said that to you?” He asks.

You were about to answer him when you heard the same giggling from across the coffee shop. You looked over at them. They were still giggling and pointing at you. Sebastian followed your gaze to the three college kids who were rude to you earlier. He seen the pointing and heard the giggling.

“I’ll be right back.” He says, standing up.

You didn’t even protest. You watched him walk to the other side of the coffee shop to the table the three college kids were sitting at.

“What’s your problem?” Sebastian asked them.

“What?” One of the girls asks.

“You three have been pointing and giggling at my girlfriend since before I got here.” He said.

“That’s because she’s ugly and it looks like there’s something wrong with her.” The guy said.

Sebastian’s jaw clenched. Overprotective boyfriend mode took over him. He doesn’t like it when people talk about you or to you like that.

“I’m only going to say this once.” Sebastian begins. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with her. You guys just decided to pick on someone you guys don’t know. You guys just like to judge people who you all don’t even know. She’s the love of my life and the most beautiful woman I know. I’d appreciate it if you guys would stop being rude to her and leave her alone.” He says.

The college kids stayed quiet and then left. Sebastian walked back over to you and sat down next to you.

“You don’t have to worry about them again, prinţesă.” He says, wrapping an arm around you.

“Thank you, Sebby.” You muttered softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, dragă. I will always stand up for you.” He says softly, wiping your tears away.

Sebastian then caressed your one of your cheeks softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone. You stared in his blue eyes, a smile forming on your lips.

“There’s the smile I love.” Sebastian says, making you blush and your smile grow wider.

Sebastian kissed you softly. You melted into his touch like you always do.

“I love you, prinţesă.” He says softly with a smile.

“I love you too, Sebby.” You say, smiling up at him.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[accio-victuuri]

010225: LRLG submission 🔴🟢

what a great way to start the year! a very long submission from lrlg! yaaaay!!!!! let me start with the last part of the post which is a message from lrlg.

It's been a long time since we last met. Isn't it a bit too long? All the work in 2024 is completed. We have entered a new year. Let's meet more often. Happy New Year!

i’m crying!!!! it’s been so long!!!!!

i will try and include as much as i can — especially one that have candy potential. the first part is bobo talking to his team and it’s a long convo but the important part is this:

staff: “How come when I went to the store to look at it, there were men’s rings?”

🟢: "I don't know. I can't go to the store."

🟢: "You can choose a pendant. There are many styles of pendants."

staff: "Only the dragon tablet and nothing else”

🟢 “Buy gold and strike it yourself”

staff:"It's too much trouble"

staff:"Just go with the gold bars and styles."

staff:“Buy ready-made”

HAHAHAHAHAHA IM CACKLING AT YIBO. Why are you like this. His staff has it hard. Why do you wanna make them hand made the gold jewelry you want???? and is this for XZ? part of the new year gift?

🟢 "Good, the only purpose is safety first"

🟢 "Absolutely"

🟢 “The express delivery has been waiting for several days.”

🟢 "It was sent by xx. If you don't go back, I'll find someone to pick it up."

🟢 "good"

the next two paragraphs are convos between wyb and his staff again. they are talking about wyb having enough time to go home ( probably spend time with xz ). then another convo about accessories.

🟢: "What did you order?"

🔴: The food I ordered hasn't arrived yet."

🟢 "I'm hungry."

Staff: "It'll probably be ten minutes. Sorry it's late."

🔴 "You're so busy. You're abusing your employees."

🟢 "Ah? Ask her."

Staff "Sorry I watched the game late"

🟢 "It's okay, I was hungry early"

🔴: "Table Tennis"

Staff "You watch it too"

🔴 "Well, mainly you are playing it out loud"

Staff "Ah, hold on to a little bit"

🟢 "Have you ordered any fruit"

🔴 "You have a big heart, dare to watch the live broadcast"

"Hey"

Staff "Then we must be on the same frequency, order fruit slices"

🟢 "I am your boss, right?"

Staff "But he is your boss"

🟢 "Okay, okay"

the next part is them finally getting their orders! HAHAHAHAHA! they ordered too much and WYB was telling his staff that when he finishes filming he will give them some time off.

Staff: "xx is here, why don't you go and take a look first?"

🟢 "Okay, you go first"

🔴 "Take a few bites of this"

🟢 "I'll come back to eat"

🔴 "Hey, there's no onion"

🟢 Chew chew chew "delicious"

🔴 "You're born in the year of the dog"

🟢 😨

🔴 "My gloves have been bitten through"

🔴 "It's so bad"

🟢 "There's water in the cabinet. I'll roll it for you when I get back. You guys eat first."

Staff "I still have two new ones."

OMGGGG they are feeding each other! and yes XZ he is a puppy! Your puppy!!!! 🥹🥹🥹😂😂😂

the next paragraphs is when WYB has already left and XZ is left with the staff. it makes me feel things that XZ is so familiar with WYB’s staff. they are truly a team that he can even joke with them. you can tell the familiarity.

Staff "I'll treat you guys to a good meal tonight"

🔴 "I'll charge you a lot"

Staff "Hey, the boss isn't here?"

Staff "XX is here"

and they are talking about a watch that was sent.

🟢 "Why aren't you eating yet?"

🔴 "It's only five minutes, you should be back in fifteen minutes."

🟢 "I grabbed the cantaloupe, it's sweet."

Staff How come yours is already cut? I just took two pieces."

🟢 "XX has already cut ones, you didn't get them

Staff "They just cut it. Do I dare to take it?"

🔴 "It's cold whether you eat it or not"

🟢 "Wash your hands"

—-

🔴 "Is it so difficult to eat a meal?"

🟢 "Didn't I ask you to eat first?"

🟢 "Oh, then it's no different from eating at home"

🔴 "You're the one who said all the words"

🟢 "Why are you cursing?"

🔴 "Which word did I use to curse?"

🟢 "You cursed in a very civilized way"

🔴 "The sauce is too salty"

🟢 "Good God"

LOL they never change with the bickering! and how they go back to talking as usual after.

——

🟢 Let Brother X take you there this afternoon"

🔴 "No need for XX"

🟢 "What did you buy?"

🔴 "There are dogs all over your pants"

🟢 "Are you a little dog now?"

🔴 "Yes, you are a little pig dog"

🟢 👊🏻

🔴 "Hey, how can you be so disrespectful?"

🔴 "Why do I feel that this sauce is different from what I ate before?"

Staff "Salty and sweet"

🟢 Change the chef"

🔴 "Hiss"

🟢 "I'll pick you up in the afternoon"

🔴 "No need, I don't know what time I'll be back"

🟢 "Call me when you're done"

the last part is labeled as a funny story among WYB and his staff

🟢 "Who ate the spicy noodles?"

Staff “Everyone in the room ate them."

Staff "Too spicy, that spicy strips they bought online"

Staff "xx had a nosebleed after eating it"

🟢 "Let me taste it"

Staff "Don't eat it, I ate a small piece and now my stomach is on fire"

🟢 "Medical insurance can't be used anymore, this is how it is"

😂😂😂😂 anyway, WYB! Don’t eat that spicy thing!!!!

-END.

i am not authorized to translate the entire thing but these are the ones that stood out and included xz and wyb interaction! this is such a simple part of their life but that’s how it is. i’m glad they get to spend time together. the question is, when was this. lol. this post as you may have noticed is more on the translation and a tiny bit of commentary from me. i will do a longer reaction and crying post later. 🫶🏼

in the meantime, enjoy ^^

[magnagaruzenmon]

Recuperation

Okay now y’all are stuck with me for a while until Dinozen finishes his massive stories.

After a long day at work, you finally had the apartment to yourself. You dropped your bag by the door, kicked off your shoes, and shuffled into the kitchen. Tonight called for something simple—instant ramen with an egg and whatever leftover vegetables you could scavenge from the fridge.

With a steaming bowl, you sank onto the couch, remote in hand, ready to lose yourself in some anime. It took you about ten minutes of scrolling to land on Kaiju No. 8. The title floated online for a while, and curiosity finally won. From the first episode, you were hooked.

There was something about Kafka—the way he struggled with his responsibilities, the weight of his unfulfilled dreams—that felt oddly familiar. Sure, you weren't dealing with kaiju or life-or-death stakes, but the longing to be more, to be something greater, resonated in a way you didn’t expect. You leaned forward, ramen forgotten, completely immersed.

So much so that you didn’t even hear the door open.

“Hey, babe,” Tsuki’s cheerful voice cut through the action on-screen.

You flinched, fumbling for the remote and pausing the episode mid-explosion. Turning toward her, you found her standing in the doorway, framed by the warm glow of the hallway light. Her work bag was slung over one shoulder, and her dark hair spilled loose over her shoulders, a few strands clinging to her face from the cool night air.

“Oh, hey!” you said, still recovering from the surprise. “How was your day?”

“Long,” she said with a dramatic sigh, running her hands through her hair in mock exhaustion. Then she glanced at you, her lips quirking into a playful smile. “What about you?”

“Same,” you replied, matching her sigh for effect.

She laughed softly, setting her bag down by the door before crossing the room to sit beside you on the couch. The scent of her perfume—subtle, floral—cut through the lingering smell of ramen, a comforting contrast. She leaned in and kissed your cheek, her lips warm and soft.

“What are we watching?” she asked, her eyes flicking to the screen.

“Kaiju No. 8,” you answer, handing her the remote so she can read the episode description. “Just started it. Have you ever heard of it?”

Tsuki raised an eyebrow, scrolling through the details. “Mmm, I think Sua might have mentioned it once. Said it’s about a guy who turns into a kaiju, right? Sounds like your kind of thing.”

You chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” she teased, nudging me with her elbow. “Big monsters, lots of fighting, some tragic backstory—sounds like you.”

You rolled your eyes, but her smile was infectious. “Well, it’s good so far,” you said, gesturing toward the screen. “Want to watch with me?”

She tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm, I was thinking of a bath and bed, but… sure. I’ll give it one episode. You can’t complain if I fall asleep halfway through, though.”

“No promises,” you said, grinning.

Tsuki tucked her legs under her as she got comfortable, resting her head against your shoulder. You hit play, and the room filled with the sound of explosions, roaring kaiju, and Kafka’s determined voice.

As the episode unfolded, Tsuki occasionally murmured comments—mostly teasing ones about the characters or the animation—but it was clear she was getting into it.

“You’re really good at understanding this now,” she said suddenly during a quiet scene.

“What?” you asked, caught off guard.

“Your Japanese, it's gotten better,” she said, gesturing toward the screen. “I remember when you’d have to pause every five minutes to look something up. Now you’re keeping up with all this kaiju jargon like it’s nothing.”

You felt your cheeks heat a little. “Well, I’ve been practicing. Plus when I was a kid I used to watch Godzilla all the time and a lot of the jargon is the same… I guess I have a pretty great tutor.”

Tsuki grinned, her cheek resting against your shoulder. “Damn right, you do.”

The episode continued, but your focus shifted. You made the mistake of glancing at Tsuki, who was sprawled comfortably on the couch. Her hair was slightly messy from the day, her makeup faded but was still perfect to you. She looked so effortlessly sultry yet so at home, and it broke your brain for a second.

“You’re so hot,” you blurted.

Tsuki sat up slightly, her eyes wide with mock disbelief. “Excuse me?”

"I said you’re so hot,” you repeated, more confidently this time. “Like, you just walk in here, hair all messy, talking about kaiju and complimenting my language skills—how am I supposed to focus on anything else?”

She laughed, her face lighting up in a way that made your chest feel warm. “You say the most random things sometimes,” she said, leaning in to kiss you. “But I’ll take it.”

The kiss lingered for a moment before she pulled back, her eyes soft. “Alright, let’s see if Kafka can beat that.”

“Good luck to him,” you muttered, earning another laugh.

As the episode ended and the credits rolled, Tsuki let out a contented sigh. “Okay, I see the appeal. Maybe I’ll stick around for a few more episodes. But first—” she stretched and yawned, “—I’m grabbing some of that ramen you’re hoarding. Save the next one for me?”

“Actually, I’ll do you one better,” you said, getting up and heading into the kitchen. Tsuki followed, curious. “Sit tight—I’m making breakfast ramen for you.”

Her eyes sparkled under the low light of the apartment. “Your famous breakfast ramen?” she asked, her voice laced with excitement. You nodded, already pulling ingredients from the fridge.

When you slid the steaming bowl across the counter to her, she took her first bite, her eyes widening like a kid opening a gift. “Ah, so cute,” you teased, and she blushed, mumbling something about how unfairly good it was.

“You ever think about becoming a chef?” she joked, savoring another bite.

You laughed but decided to bring up something you've been meaning to tell her. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about pursuing something new.”

Tsuki paused, her chopsticks mid-air. “You’re not leaving me, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you said quickly. “But I’ve been working on getting my pilot’s license—helicopters, planes, the works.”

Her eyes widened with admiration. “Wow. First photography, now flying? You’re really living up to that Nigou comparison.”

You rolled your eyes as she laughed. “Hey, I need something to do while you’re busy being a superstar.”

Tsuki gave you one of her smiles—the kind that radiated love and warmth, the kind that made everything else fade into the background.

“What are you staring at?” she asked, tilting her head cutely.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you said, grinning.

She pouted, poking me with her chopsticks. “Fine, but only because you’ve been pampering me all night.”

You smiled as she finished up, then her eyes took on a different kind of hunger. She abandoned her bowl before approaching me.

"You know it's been a little while since we've had alone time like this," she says, with a sultry tone. You blink at her a few times until she brings you in for another kiss. This kiss brings with it her hands wrapping around your shoulders, as she brings you in close her tongue finds its way into your mouth. Tsuki breaks the kiss and then says, "I always love how sweet you smell. Whether it's vanilla oranges or blueberries. You always smell like dessert, and I think I'm in the mood for some right now."

Tsuki pulls you in for another kiss as your hands wrap around her and dance around her svelte body. You smile into the kiss as she continues to kiss deeper.

"Fuck!" she groans before guiding you to the bedroom. She lifts up her top and her petite and pert breasts greet you. She smiles and then says, "Take that cock out," You shrug and oblige her as she smiles before taking you into her mouth. Her pouty lips spread all around your cock as she begins to slide up and down your length. You moan and Tsuki says,

"you like that," as she speaks she slowly rubs your shaft before taking you back into her mouth. She lightly bites the tip causing a bizarre sense of pleasure that almost makes you explode then and there. Tsuki smiles and groans around your cock.

"Please cum for me, baby. I want my cream for dessert," she says, and that's what gets you as you pour hot cum down her gullet. And Tsuki smiles around your cock before lifting herself up.

"Thanks for dessert, now let's continue this in the bathroom so we can both get clean," she says.

[lgbtpopcult]

Ranking the Top 10 GL Series of 2024

10. My marvelous Dream is You

A highly expected gl from Idol Factory that fell short of our expectations not for lack of chemistry from its love team (they in fact had some of the best chemistry in the industry) but because of the bad writing. The writing simply didn't allow the story to flourish. The couple spent most of the series apart, and we don't mean simply not in a relationship. They hardly spend any time together at all, and when they did, there were no romantic moments happening most of the time. What saved the series was its couple that sold the rare moments they had together really well. No surprise that they're dating in real life.

9. Apple My Love

Short and sweet, this story was a fun little romcom that fulfilled its purpose well. The couple needed to prove themselves as a love team, and they did. Happy to know they got a new series out of it.

8. Petrichor

For the people who had heard of Englot but had only seen them as a love team on Show Me Love, their popularity remained a mystery until this series. This police drama/romance has been good enough to prove they may not be the team with the best chemistry out there, but they're definitely not completely deprived of it like Show Me Love made us think. The series itself is interesting if you like your romance in small doses amidst the action.

7. Blank The Series

Here comes the controversy. One of the most successful and also controversial series of the year. We have to acknowledge that unlike what some fans would like us to believe the problem was not in the age difference per say but in the fact that one of them was 21 and initially very immature for her age. However, she was not underage, she was not unintelligent, and she had agency. She was the one who persistently pursued the relationship. The story was exciting and passionate. Also, mommy issues sell.

6. 23.5

A series that gave milklove, a much beloved love team, its chance to shine. It was a sweet high school romance that was enjoyable for most people and had some great highs. Its jealousy episode was one of the best around, and both of the admins here in lgbtpopcult are willing to die on that heel. It did, however, have the limitations of an innocent high school romance. A lot of time was dedicated to side characters and the couple could not be shown in a more mature relationship. Still, a good time!

5. Mate the Series

It is endlessly entertaining to watch Gen and Aoey interact. The perfect ice queen, rich girl that wanted to only be with the perfect man (somehow nobody was ever the perfect man) trying to resist her innocent, tempting friend. They are funny and sweet and passionate at the same time. The series does a good job of focusing on their relationship with little interest in anything else

4. The Loyal Pin

This production, supported by the Thai ministry of culture, definitely deserves its spot at number 4. At 16 episodes and with great production value, it is a journey through time that not only shows us the love story between two women but also the food, dance, and customs of the country of Thailand. The love story itself did a good job of remaining entertaining by inserting some jealousy and lots of obstacles in the course of the couple.

3. Affair the Series

A fierce debate broke out amongst us about whether this series would occupy the third or the second place in this list. You see half of it, the second half, was so incredibly good. The push and pull of a couple with exploding chemistry while they lived together. The obsession Wan had with Pleng. The amazing love scenes. But the first part of the series dragged it down. The chemistry was there from the beginning but they spend too much time in the past when the leads were young, and one of them was pushing the other to be with a guy just to avoid her feelings. That part wasn't bad, It had its moments, but it was at times frustrating and too long. A great series nonetheless.

2. Pluto

This series has it all. A love team with great chemistry, an interesting plot, good acting, and quality writing. It did not only show us an exciting romance but addressed issues of disability and even teased a throuple (through a side couple don't worry the mains are as crazy in love as gl couples should be). Insert some surprising twists and turns and it's a go!

1. The Secret of Us

The number 1 spot could go to no other series. It wasn't even a debate. Lingorm, the love team comprised of Ling and Orm, was tasked with proving a gl can go toe to toe with straight romance series on a major Thai network. They knocked it out the park! The Secret of Us was super successful. Throughout its run, it remained in the top 10 of Netflix in Thailand and the other Asian countries it was available in. It frequently occupied the number 1 spot, and its numbers on the network's own streaming app surpassed those of its straight counterparts. There was a reason for all of that. The story was a very popular romance trope (angry ex vs. regretful ex) done right, the chemistry of the love team was enticing and both main characters were infinitely charming. We all fell in love.

[c-schroed]

Why Not Watch Some Movies Set in 2025?

Another new year has just begun, and I love to start it with a look back to how some people years ago envisioned this specific year to be (just like last year). So, I'll share with you my list of movies set in the year of 2025, based on this gorgeous Wikipedia list.

Of course, some of the movies listed there don't provide much of a vision, because they're set just a few years in the future. So, I'll focus on movies that are at least ten years old, reducing my Get Ready For '25 watchlist to 11 entries. Future me will edit this post, adding a quick review to each film after I've watched it. So, let's have a look at the movies, after the cut.

Endgame (Original title: Bronx Lotta Finale). The oldest entry in the list comes from 1983, and it shows us a run-of-the-mill post-apocalyptic New York. Seemingly, some nuclear war has happened (around 1990, as a clever Wikipedia writer deduces based on the technology shown in the film), leaving a wasteland filled with scavengers and telepathic mutants. Oh, and hunters and gladiators who fight to death for a TV show called Endgame. A Boy And His Dog meets The Running Man, as it seems. One could start worse, I guess, though the writer/director worked under a pseudonym for this, which I admit is not the best of omens. PS: I usually look at places like Youtube and Dailymotion if someone uploaded some of the older flicks, and on this lil quest I among others found a German dubbed version with Hungarian voice-over of this originally Italian flick. So if you happen to understand Hungarian (I don't), have fun with this truly pan-european edition! Wow. I admit that this flick was a better start than I anticipated. It's still not great, but the first third is very entertaining, with some nicely choreographed fights. Very wrestling-esque, very sweet. However, then all of a sudden the whole gladiator fight TV show stuff ends, and instead we get some "Bring these guys to this place" plot instead. Entertaining The Running Man ripoff becomes less entertaining Mad Max 2 ripoff. 5 out of 10 points. Oh, and I solved the riddle of the director's pseudonym: He usually made smut films, so I guess he did not want to confuse his smut film fans by putting his smut film persona into the credits of this relatively non-smut production.

Future Hunters. A movie from 1986, and yet another post-apocalyptic world. Some rebel group search for the Spear of Destiny, which allows them to travel back in time. So, I'm afraid most of the film will not happen in 2025, but 39 years earlier, where the Spear has to be reunited with its shaft (the Shaft of Destiny, I guess?) to break its curse. Or so. Raiders of the Lost Ark seems to meet Terminator, here. And we even have Robert Patrick in one of his first leading roles, five years before becoming a real Terminator.

Futuresport. This one is from 1998, and it was made directly for TV. The eponymous sport of the year 2025 is a mix of basketball, baseball and hockey that uses hoverboards and rollerblades, and it is used as a less lethal alternative for gang warfare. Specifically, this sport shall be used to decide who will rule over the Hawaiian Islands. When looking at this synopsis, I can't stop thinking about one of my favourite movies, the 1975 sci-fi classic Rollerball. This one is set in the year of 2018, so maybe I can spin me some head canon that has Futuresport developing from Rollerball. We'll see.

Timecop 2: The Berlin Decision. A 2003 direct-to-video sequel to the Jean-Claude Van Damme flick of 1994. Timecop part one was set in 2004, and 21 years later, in the sequel, some guy is sent to Berlin of the past. To kill Hitler. Oh my. This could be quite the ride. I think I watched part one when I was young, but I can't remember much. So maybe this year is a good opportunity for a rewatch of this Van Damme flick - though I don't think it will be needed to understand part 2. The double feature DVD box is cheap to get, so we'll see.

Negadon, the Monster from Mars. A 2005 animated kaiju short film from Japan, wherein a mars mission brings some monster back to earth. Which of course has to be fought with some huge robot. Sounds okay, and we're talking about 25 minutes to spend. So why not.

Repo Men. A 2010 film that shows us a 2025 where bio-mechanical organs are rented to people in need. If they can't afford the organs any more, well, the repossession is quite bloody. So basically it's 2008's Repo! The Genetical Opera, but without the cool singing. I watched this movie when it was in cinemas, and it was okayish. So, time for a rewatch.

Zebraman 2: Attack on Zebra City. Some Japanese superhero flick from 2010, of course it's a sequel to a film called Zebraman, from 2004, wherein a teacher starts to fight crime in the costume of his childhood TV hero. The sequel is set 15 years after part one (so yes, Zebraman 2 is produced in the year that Zebraman 1 is set in), and Tokyo is renamed to Zebra City and now has a "Zebra Time", a daily period of five minutes where all crime is legal, but presumed criminals will be attacked by the "Zebra Police". This could be hilarious, The Purge on speed (before the first part of The Purge even existed!), but I'll keep my expectations low. And I'll try to watch part one first, because Zebraman 2 seems to use a lot of its characters.

Pacific Rim. A 2013 instant classic. In 2025, giant kaijus must be fought with giant mechas (just as in Negadon; see above). Gosh, I love this one, but spouse hasn't seen it yet. And is highly sceptical. But when if not this year should one give this a try, right?

Hot Tub Time Machine 2. Four guys are sent ten years into the future by the eponymous bathing device, to find someone who tried to kill one of them. I absolutely did not like the first part, so I really feel tempted to skip this.

Mountains May Depart. A 2015 Chinese drama spanning a time from 1999 to 2025. The synopsis is full of love-triangles and family drama, so I don't suspect much of a vision of the future. Plus, it seems to be rather hard to get, so maybe I'll skip this one, too.

Ten Years. Also from 2015, this movie from Hong Kong speculates about what the semi-autonomous Hong Kong will be in ten years from then, with human rights and freedoms gradually diminishing as the influence of the Chinese government increases. I'm very curious about this one!

[witch-from-a-block-of-flats]

The first half of episode 2 deserves more attention.

Warning! Yapping ahead!

(Also sorry for any potential english errors, it's not my first language)

He brings that up so casually. Honestly I don't blame him, because who would believe you if you said you have some sort of special ability? Only other people who know that superpowers actually exist. It's was kinda smart of Liu Xiao if you think about it. Dropping the word superpower and then watching people's reaction to it.

Now that's interesting. Because Liu Min is our villain from season 1. You know, that guy:

If you remember season 1 and begging of season 2, you know that Liu Min had a difficult relationship with his father (Liu Jing) who wished he "had half the ability of his younger brother" - younger brother being Liu Xiao. Does Liu Jing know that his younger son has superpower or was he just talking about his intelligence?

Also how on earth Xiang had met Liu Min when LM was a kid? Was he babysitting or something? Why does he mention Liu Min when Liu Xiao says "You know boss Liu (Jing)?". You know, his DAD.

Superpower user spotted?

I still don't know how to interpret this moment. Just an artistic representation of deduction/prediction? But the eye... the eye color change... Are they doing this on purpose? Are they trolling us? Powers related to the future finally appear? Am I reaching? Will we learn more about Xiang? I hope so, since he knows about Cheng Xiaoshi's dad.

Ok ok I know that this moment roughed some feathers and almost no one is buying that Liu Xiao's power is just hearing other people's heartbeat. I'm not sure what to think either. I mean his song is literally called "Manipulator" I wouldn't be surprised if that was a lie.

But let's say he is telling the truth. You may ask why would he revealed his power to someone who clearly doesn't like him and could use this info against him? I think that this isn't a stupid move. His power is simple and not as powerful like time travel through photos for example but... you can't really do anything about it. Like what are you going to do, stop your heartbeat? We don't know the exact rules and limits of this power yet. Is there a distance limit? Does it work through phone calls? Does it work on recordings?

After thinking about it, personally, in my humble opinion, I think it's good for the show that we have someone with less spectacular power. Because:

It shows how diverse powers can be.

It forces writers to be more creative about how Liu Xiao deals with the obstacles.

There is certain charm to a character who is "weaker" on paper but is going toe to toe with someone who has a powerful ability. Sometimes it's not about pure power, it's about creativity.

I am genuinely curious how this man looked at his power [hearing heartbeats] and thought "yes, I will be the one to merge all the parallel lines".

Besides, we already had a power not related to photos - Li Tianchen can possess people he touches - so I don't think it's doing much harm to the series.

And now we go back to CXS's dad. There are so many questions. Why is he so important to Liu Xiao? What's his connection to Xiang? Is he still in Bridon? IS HE STILL ALIVE?

Xiang was terrified when Liu Xiao mentioned him so maybe he had/has a powerful ability? I think Xiang had something to do with Cheng Weimin disappearing. My current theory is that someone dangerous was after Cheng Weimin and his family (maybe the superpower police?) and Xiang helped him in some way but that's just a gut feeling. It's just as likely to be true as a version when Xiang helped people who wanted to get rid of him (or maybe capture him and use him? so many questions, not so many answers).

And to end this post that is already way too long...

WHAT DOES THIS BEETLE THING MEAN? P.H.? DO WE KNOW SOMEONE WITH P.H. INITIALS? If it was H. P. I would pull out my lovecraftian hat but it's not (unfortunately).

Paris Hilton is that you???

[waitmyturtles]

Final Thoughts on Spare Me Your Mercy, Thailand's Biggest Queer Show of 2024*

(*domestically!)

Due to the holidays, I was behind on watching last week's finale of Spare Me Your Mercy, but I got it in, and I'm glad I did.

I am mucho on the record that I thought, throughout this series, that the romance portion of this series was done weakly. I throughly enjoyed and appreciated @clairedaring's objective and appreciative commentary throughout the airing of this drama to provide all of us with context about novel!SMYM versus series!SMYM, helping us to understand what of the many bits were missing between the two versions of this story.

There has been a nice lot of debate online about the ultimate success of the telling of the SMYM story in drama format, both pro and not so pro regarding the script. There was also quite the revealing interview with the screenwriter Lux Sirilux, who revealed that the show's design purposely excluded NC scenes to favor more time being spent on the euthanasia ethics debate (thank you so much to @clairedaring for reblogging so much, I wouldn't have these references without you!).

I want to note that even despite the recent holidays, that the heightened online burble of debate around SMYM indicates to me -- like the ensuing debates after the airing of the 4 Minutes finale -- that the story of the SMYM drama format didn't land for everyone. If it was universally successful in its storytelling from all the classic narrative markers, then much of this debate would not be happening.

I first entered the SMYM world understanding that it was a part of a storytelling trilogy of sorts, connecting Sammon's previously adapted stories in 2020's Manner of Death and 2022's Triage (I haven't reviewed Triage yet, but I watched it in 2024 and it is absolutely one of the five best Thai BLs I have ever watched.)

To go back to the Lux interview quickly, and to note fan commentary in defense of Lux's position: what Lux Sirilux posits is that the show essentially decentralized NC scenes and intimacy in favor of giving the script more time to dwell on a debate about euthanasia -- the ethics and morality of being a part of a person's death, and the ethics of a person deciding to die in the first place. The defense of this position essentially stated: well, because the show wasn't intended to be about romance, then why criticize it on its romantic context?

When I think back to the show's original positioning as a part of the MoD/Triage trilogy, I think to myself: the couples of TanBun and TinTol were absolutely central, as romantic pairs, to the success of those two stories, and both shows absolutely balanced their mystery elements so as to leave us fully satisfied on two (!!) genre fronts. At least, before SMYM premiered, to be excited about the TorJJ/KanTew coupling was therefore a reasonable expectation.

As well: there was a lot of implied attraction and romance in SMYM. A lot!

All these scenes! And we had more.

As soon as this show started airing, I was pulling for it to work as well as Manner of Death and Triage had. And I was side-eyeing to my drama homies about what I was smelling, when I started to feel like SMYM was NOT working. While a defense that the show was never meant to be a romance is... an interesting postscript to ponder: I don't buy it, because many elements that were clearly designed to otherwise communicate romance actually failed. I squinted heavily at the middle episodes of this series, really wondering, ".....so......are these guys.... DATING? Just feeling things out?!"

If these elements weren't actually intended to be in the show, the attraction between Kan and Tew, then -- why did we get them?

What was missing, narratively, for me? It was emotional context based in the reality of how I understand intimacy to function between two humans -- an understanding that, in the very best of art, I don't need to suspend in order to make a narratively unsuccessful show otherwise work.

The progression of emotional (let alone physical) intimacy was choppy in this series, to say the least. @clairedaring gave us the very important context early on that the novel version of SMYM had two volumes -- the first of which focused on KanTew's dating, before the ethical clashes of euthanasia entered the picture. If we had had that narrative context in the drama, the drama would have worked wonders, and I believe the crew was working throughout this debate in the writing process, from how the script turned out.

The script here did not work, because even if romance was intentionally deprioritized to focus on the euthanasia debate -- many episodes still spent too much time on KanTew, without giving us viewers an emotional journey for us to understand where they were in their emotional intimacy. And I posit, because the script seemed to be so indecisive, that the euthanasia debate got lost for much of the show as well. Up until the end, in the final episode, with that utterly fabulous attic scene.

If only the show had the strength of dialogue and conflict as that attic scene! I wrote yesterday that Tor and JJ will win awards for the whole series, based on that scene alone. That scene finally held the full and holistic scope of the tension between Kan and Tew totally bursting out in all its glory.

Let me just note, though, that we had to get through the first half of the episode to get to that scene -- a first half that really, REALLY made Kan look like an AWFUL LYING SCUMBAG to Tew (HOW COULD YOU LIE TO TEW LIKE THAT IN YOUR HOSPITAL BED, KAN, AND TELL HIM THAT HIS PAIN HE WAS FEELING WAS GUILT, YOU MF'ING ASSHOLE, okay I got it out of my system). Really, with all the lying Kan was doing to Tew about Tew's mom, I was praying that Tew would do the full COPS treatment on Kan, "Bad Boys" and all.

Kan was, in my absolutely personal opinion, ultimately rendered unforgivable during that first half of the finale (regardless of my personal thoughts on the ethics of euthanasia) simply because of his disingenuousness to Tew. The penultimate conversation in attic between Kan and Tew was a phenomenal encapsulation to the ethical conflict that Kan and Tew had danced around for the entire series -- and it highlighted, to me, again, where the script had failed the show, because it actually put a spotlight on moments when the EXCELLENT and FASCINATING nuances of the euthanasia debate in Thailand were sidelined for weak attempts at romantic development. (The socioeconomic nuances, the inequity in health care nuances, the impact that terminal illness has on caretakers, all of them! GAH!)

My takeaway from all of this is that the crew of this show did not hit the exact and delicate formula of deciding what the crux of this show should have been about, despite the commentary we received posthaste from the screenwriter. While the intention of that commentary indicated that the euthanasia debate was supposed to be the only center of the show -- too much time was spent showing us KanTew moments, and those moments lacked context and clarity to give us viewers an understanding of where they stood in their engagement or relationship at any one time. Thus, I do think the postscript commentary from the crew was also a touch disingenuous, regarding the success of the narrative itself as art.

And — I believe it was also disingenuous to the two previously adapted Sammon stories of Manner of Death and Triage as well, as both of those dramas were able to hold both mystery and romantic storylines to excellent ends, with wonderful touches of intimacy along the way (MaxTul couch scene, my beloved). There's more to say, as other people have noted, about writers deprioritizing intimacy to tell "another" story, as it were, but that's a debate for another time, that I think speaks to where Thai BL is going in general.

But otherwise, while I think SMYM was ultimately narratively unsuccessful (that last "I love you" and the rushed close were just brutal), I'm not surprised about how well it did in Thailand. No one can argue with the star power that Tor and JJ hold in Asia — the show was always going to do well, no matter the artistic success of its narrative. I just wish the show had lived up to the caliber of acting and writing that Tor and JJ got to display in that attic at the end.

[teapot-tyrant]

Twst characters but they are customers at the store I work at (except it's just Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw bc this is a shitpost that probably won't do well)

Heartslabyul:

❤️Ace: Obnoxious teenager there with his parents. Probably rocks the camo jacket like half the teenage boys I see on a daily basis and is begrudgingly forced to help his parents put stuff in the buggy (but not bag them). Honestly, I don't think his family would be the type to buy bags in the first place either. Just tossing shit straight in the cart.

♠️Deuce: The counterpart to Ace. Is a regular with his mom, and probably will join in on the banter between the two of us. Offers to bag groceries for me and I know for a FACT that Dylla/Dilah Spade always has those reusable bags on her. One of my favorite kinds of customers tbh. Definitely a customer that I wouldn't know the name of but would have a nickname for in my head.

♣️Trey: Always has a cart full of various baking items and is willing to chat about whatever he's making this time. One time we had a really good sale on mouthwash though and he had like 3 large bottles in his cart or something and that earned him the moniker "mouthwash guy". Is a regular and always scans his rewards card before I can even ask; also always needs to buy bags and will ask beforehand. Can't explain that last one but it just makes sense.

♦️Cater: SUPER chatty customer that I probably started chatting to after he interjected on a convo between my coworkers and I. Doesn't usually have that much to buy, and if he even has a cart, it's usually one of the small ones (we don't have baskets but that's a diff story). Semi-regular who probably doesn't have a rewards card but always asks to sign up for one. If he DOES have a rewards card though, he always says he's gonna save the points for gas and then forgets and they expire. Again, can't explain this one but it makes sense to me. Probably also tends to go thru U-Scan or Express most of the time anyways because those lend themselves better to chatting, believe it or not.

🌹Riddle: Not usually him I see on a regular, but his mom. I have beef with her as a customer because she yelled at me the first time I asked if she wanted to buy bags. And then yelled bc I bagged things wrong even tho I asked if she had any preferences. He came in for her once or twice, though, and while he's still super particular with how things are bagged, he communicates it with me when I ask. Has probably asked if I'm supposed to be "doing that" (standing around and leaning on my bagging counter) though when I don't have any customers in line. Would not wanna be his coworker.

Savanaclaw:

🦁Leona: I like to think Leona would probably do doordash orders and not actually come in himself. The ONE time he came in, though, it would be to buy like... One random ass thing and NOTHING ELSE. probably also went through U-Scan and didn't go through the lines and yk what? Me too.

🍩 Ruggie: Fellow part-timer that also runs door dash on his days off. An exception to the customers rule because I think he WOULD be a coworker of mine and probably is fun to gossip with when standing on U-Scan. Probably gets into trouble though bc he'd probably be more interested in chatting than watching the registers. Anyways when he does door dash it's fun though because he always has insane orders of like two tiny items that I have to bag ANYWAYS. That or he's doordashing for Leona and it's a cart that's full of meat on sale and other shit and it's kinda insane but yk what ain't my business bc people come thru with buggies full of pork chops all the time because of BBQs and parties so. Eh. Probably got in trouble once for scanning his rewards card for customers that didn't bring theirs.

🐺Jack: Genuinely nice customer. Not super talkative but is still receptive to my NPC dialogue-ass work script. Bought some succulents over the summer and we had a slight conversation over it but probably nothing crazier than that. It's usually just him and his parents but every once in a while his siblings are also there and he's usually a bit more talkative in those cases. Another customer I would enjoy having in my line.

[ivysprophecy]

Am I Okay? Chapter Three

a/n: hi again! if you havent guessed already this chapter is going to include the gala i mentioned in part twelve! (which is linked) now as author im going to state clearly that this is not their first date 'canonically', however, its what i MYSELF consider their first date. <3

warnings: i dont think there are any, but i did add a little somethin somethin at the end ;) and i should mention this ones gonna be in rafes pov ;) im in no way saying that rafe is my character

word count: 1241

this shouldnt feel as daunting as it does right now. shes just a friend. its just a dinner party, theres no commitments attached or technicalities to worry over.

its just me and her making a boring evening more exciting.

thats all.

i knock on the door and wait patiently for her to answer. i did come a bit early so i wouldnt be surprised if she was still getting ready.

she has a tendency to get swept up in the music shes listening to when shes at her vanity.

but as soon as she opens that door and i turn to see her... i suddenly forget all the convincing was doing.

cause i know after tonight theres gonna be no more hiding just how into her i am. she looks incredible.

it does something to me knowing its the dress i bought her.

"hi," thats all she says and i swear i forgot how to breathe. how does she do this to me?

"hey," my smile widens, "you look... gorgeous. really you look great."

"cant take all the credit, the dress was all your doing. im just wearing it."

"and you wear it beautifully," just like that, a natural blush replaces the artificial pink on her cheeks "we should get going, are you ready or do you need more time? i can wait."

"i think im ready..." she searches through her purse, going over its contents making sure she has everything. "yep, im ready."

"perfect," i close the door behind her as she walks out, "its a little jarring to see you without your boots."

she chuckles as i open the car door for her, "i tried to clean up as nice as i could."

"you clean up just fine cowgirl," i cant hide my smile.

the drive to the event was that comfortable kind of quiet. i always let her take aux when we drive together. country music definitely isnt my favorite but she could play a lot worse.

besides she throws in the occasional kid cudi or metro boomin for me.

shes thoughtful like that.

"oh theres valet? how fancy," the valet opens her door for her before i can even get out of the car. i suppose thats his job.

"thats kinda how these things go. theyre a bit much."

"well i think its refreshing being so spoiled. dads done a lot of fancy business but nothing like this. its fun."

taking her hand, i lead her up the stairs into the building, "ill spoil you as much as you want cowgirl."

"youre such a sweet talker city boy. for someone who, supposedly, is a serial bachelor youre a total flirt."

"nah, i only flirt with you," i tell her, truthfully. part of me said it to see her all flustered but really there isnt a point in lying about it.

i know everyones got me figured out already, the guys and their girls are better gossipers than the real housewives. not that id know anything about the real housewives. i definitely dont watch that shit.

"thats exactly what im talking about," shes giggling as we walk into the giant room filled to the brim with investors, partners, staff, clients, a bunch of people i really want to avoid. i was about to lead her over to the bar when we run into someone conveniently.

her father. that i work with. awesome.

"cameron! thought i wouldnt be able to catch you tonig- y/n? pumpkin what are you doing here?"

"dad! were in public can you maybe not call me that-"

i let a smile peak through, "pumpkin?" its just too easy to tease her.

"rafe," she sends me a warning, and you know she means business when she uses my "government name" as she likes to call it.

i throw my hands up in defense jokingly.

"its good to see you y/l/n," i reach out to shake her dads hand, "i invited her, hoping a friendly face would make the night more barrable. i hope thats alright with you."

"nah its good for her. she needs to get out more. i trust youll take care of her."

"dad!" she raises her tone while keeping a hushed voice, "dont talk about me like im not here. please."

"you kids have fun tonight," her dad wraps an arm around her before pressing a small kiss to her temple before shaking my hand again, "good to see you rafe. take care of my little girl."

i nod with a smile as he walks away, heading over to a table of some other clients i recognize.

"unbelievable! rafe im so sorry that was embarrassing. he doesnt know how to act normal. i shouldnt let him out of the house. i need to put him in a home."

"cowgirl, youre rambling. its fine, i get it. hes a dad its his job to embarrass you a little."

she rolls her eyes leading the way back to the bar like we intended in the first place. leaning against the bar she tells the bartender her order and mine, already knowing id like a whiskey.

how am i not supposed to like this girl so much when she knows me so well? i dont care if we come from two completely different backgrounds. a part of me knows this is the girl for me.

taking our drinks i lead her over to our table for the night, pulling out her seat for her to sit when suddenly i see some investors walking my way.

i knew id have to work a little tonight but it doesnt stop me being disappointed from being pulled away from her.

the night goes on, i introduce her to a few of the people i know better than others, but i give her the chance to mingle when she wants too. shes so well spoken and holds her own well.

shes mesmerizing.

at one point i return from the restroom, and when i come back i see that after i stepped away one of the investors sons is making conversation with her.

hes far too close to her for my liking, touching her arm subtly, desperately trying to make her laugh. but i can see shes only doing it to be polite.

i step up right beside her, my hand naturally falling to the small of her back. innocently of course.

"jared! good to see you man, your dad let you come?"

theres nothing i love to see more than his confidence faulter. he needed to be put in his place, what can i say?

im just happy i was the one to get to do it.

"yea... yea he did. it was good seeing you rafe. nice meeting you...?" he smiled in her direction, asking for one more chance silently, i couldnt contain my laughter.

"have a nice night jared. tell your dad ill see him at mondays meeting," and with that i lead her away in the direction of our table.

"you didnt have to be so rude to him you know?"

"cowgirl, that was hardly rude of me. i was doing him a favor."

she plasters on an offended face, pretending to clutch her pearls, "how dare you, im a catch. hed be so lucky to have me, and so would you."

god, shes such a tease.

believe me gorgeous. i know id be so lucky to have you. its all i think about.

[ masterlist ]