#imagine going your whole life without anyone you can relate to. anyone you can truly call YOURS

[hawnks]

The thing about getou and gojo is that they were soulmates. Everyone said they were soulmates. They were the strongest, plural. They came as a pair, were acknowledged as a pair. If gojo could ever love anyone, it would be getou.

So when getou died, gojo realized he truly is alone in this world.

[yanderes-galore]

Controversial request I know, but can I please ask for a Mammon concept from Helluva Boss? He's so bad I love him 🙏

I mean... yeah... yeah he's bad... so let me make him worse....

Yandere! Mammon Concept

Pairing: "Romantic"

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manager/Performer relationship, Toxic relationship, Controlling behavior, Possessive behavior, Violence, Manipulation, Isolation, Forced relationship.

Mammon has been confirmed to not care for the well being of others.

He's a Deadly Sin, the embodiment of Greed.

He only takes, he never gives.

Everything has to relate to him as he's egotistical and selfish.

Everything about him is deception, playing nice and friendly to appease an audience.

Even worse is that he's a perfectionist.

Which means his obsession is going to be subjected to that behavior.

He's threatening, demanding, entitled...

Toxic all around.

Which means, Mammon is only worse when obsessed with someone.

He wants no flaws in the slightest.

Imagine if you became his newest toy after Fizzarolli left.

Mammon genuinely seems like the type of demon to have a relationship with a performer.

He's controlling and enjoys that control.

It doesn't matter if you're upset or scared...

You need to hide those flaws of yours.

Oh he's disgusting with his obsession.

He's possessive and enjoys the fact you're smaller than him.

In fact, he makes it a goal to make you feel smaller than him.

You'd be his new prized performer.

In secret, he makes you two involved.

He's such a nasty boss, often preaching about you needing to be perfect while he himself isn't.

He's a hypocrite and doesn't care about it.

He expects you to cater to him and make him money.

You're forced to perform, singing and dancing for him while he coos and praises you.

You perform tricks like a dog for him.

Then, when the audience disappears, you're entertaining solely him.

You'd feel so alone during this whole situation.

A constant cycle of performances.

Everything feels so fake.

Mammon wants you to hide your distaste and negativity around him.

He wants you to be a cute little doll for him, being appealing for his amusement

You go along with it as you have nowhere else to go.

He takes advantage of that.

You put up with him because he's all you have.

Anything he gives you comes at a price.

New outfits are for performances... or his own needs.

He portrays you two close in public and on TV.

He keeps you close, singing praises you know is just to make the audience attached.

He acts like he owns you.

You doubt he genuinely feels love or adoration for you.

You're like a golden goose for him.

Someone to fill his greed.

Speaking of greed, the sin he represents, he's greedy with everything.

He's needy for affection, he craves your attention...

No one else can have that.

He refuses to share you with any other demon.

The only person you're allowed to truly love is him.

He merely shares you with the audience.

Even then, it's look don't touch.

If you find someone else as a partner, Mammon will find out.

He'll swiftly have them removed from your life, then punish you.

Are you a fool?

How dare you love anyone else.

You're meant to be his perfect darling.

He'd isolate you, threaten your job, even if that's considered mercy to you.

If you tried to leave your job of your own accord...

Mammon may just lock you up, forcing you to perform for him.

Do you really think he'd let you go?

He'd give you a damn leash if it meant you'd stay beside him.

He owns you.

You're his, plan and simple.

To him, you can't survive without him.

He controls you, puppeteers you.

When you submit, it's only then he coos at you.

He makes you addicted to his praise.

That way you have to stay.

You have to perform.

When you perform, you're surrounded by many.

Yet you'll always belong to Mammon...

Which makes you feel alone no matter how much fame you have or how many people surround you.

[seokmn]

chapter VIII : beers and late night talks

wc: 1.1k words

“so,” you said after taking a sip of your beer, looking at the night sky above you and seokmin, “one of my friends found his soulmate today”

seokmin only nodded, taking a sip of his beer before speaking up, “did it bother you? the fact that another person in your life found their soulmate and you still have no string with someone?”

“yes and no. im happy for him, i truly am.. but i got a bit jealous, not gonna lie. i felt the need to have the same experience, you know?” you looked down and scoffed, “ive always been so nonchalant about the fact that i dont have a soulmate, i always thought ‘oh, thats fine. i can still live my life’, but the past couple days ive been finding myself thinking about it, watching couples from far away… it kinda sucks”

“what if you were never okay with it? what if you were lying to yourself this whole time? or maybe you were fine with it because of your friends’ support, but sometimes only support is not enough?”

you looked at him and he looked back at you, his facial features glowing in the moonlight, you looked back to your lap and then to the city view, “maybe its a bit of all that you said.. i dont know. its not like im dying to have a soulmate, i just wish i knew how it feels to be loved, but i avoid getting into relationships”, you sighed, “i think that we can fall in love and people can fall in love with us, i truly believe we can have happy relationships with other people, even if theyre not our soulmate, but the relationship wont last long because those people are not made for us. we are destined to die without a lover, so all we can do is enjoy the short moments those people can give to us and we can give to them”

“so why do you avoid getting into relationships?”, seokmin leaned closer to you, his eyes full of curiosity as he took another sip of his beer.

“because if i fall in love with them i wont be able to move on. you see, every person has their own identity, their own opinions, their own habits that can be so dear to me. you can never replace anyone.. it hurts too much having to let someone go and leave someone," you fixed yourself in your chair, "there's a quote of one of my favorite movies that i really relate to, 'i tend to see in people little details, specific to each of them that move me and that i miss, and ill probably always miss'. i had a lot of platonic relationships that didnt work out, fake friends, etc.. and it hurt too much when they came to an end. if it hurts me so bad losing a friend, can you imagine how losing a loved one will destroy me? i’d rather stay lonely than go from relationship to relationship just because the cant stay. i know none of them is the one for me, because i dont have ‘the one’ and im nobody's 'the one'”

“woah…” seokmin leaned back in the chair and looked at you with wide eyes and you chuckled, “i think i went too far, didnt i?”

“a bit, but i liked your thought about it”

“what about you? why are you in a relationship if she already has a soulmate?”

“because.” seokmin sighed, “okay, not only because. its complicated, she used to be the only one who knew that i dont have a soulmate before you come to my life, but there’s a reason for why we date.” he paused, clearly wanting to change the subject, “...why do you work at a bookstore? is it your dream or…?”

you shook your head, “my dream is to write a book about my life as someone who doesn’t have a soulmate, but i think im still too young and too naive to write a book about it yet. i want my book to be life changing to the readers, just like the one i gave you was to me”

“i think your thoughts about it are quite interesting, so why not write now?”, he asked opening another can of beer and handing it to you, you mumbled a thank you and took a deep breath, “i have a journal just to write about this ever since i turned 18, but writing a book is something else, is something way more serious. i want people to praise my writing, to praise my thoughts and my work in general, i still need to practice my writing and all of that. but what about your dream?”

“im already living my dream,” seokmin smiled, “im an actor, i act in musicals”

“really?! are you famous? i never heard about you, at least i think so, maybe i just forgot..”

“how do i say that im famous without sounding like im bragging?” you both chuckled, “i’m also known as dokyeom”

you gasped, recognizing the name dokyeom, “my best friend went to your musical! she loved it!”, seokmin smiled shyly, “im glad to know she loved it”

“im sorry i didn’t recognize you, but i know nothing about the musical theatre industry and i never really payed attention to it…”

“its okay, it felt good to be treated as a 'normal' person, please don’t change just because im famous”

“relax, im not like that”, as you said that, you saw seokmin sighing in relief and you chuckled at the sight of him being relieved.

you two kept talking until late at night, if it wasn’t by your constant yawns, the conversation would keep going until the sunrise.

“you seem quite tired, we should call this a day”

“i agree.. im almost sleeping here”, you chuckled, “im sorry for ruining the night again. i really wanted to keep going with the conversation”

“come on, dont say that. im getting sleepy as well and the night has been nothing but amazing. its quite late now, do you want me to walk you home?”

you shook your head, “i dont want to bother you”

“please, i want to make sure you get home safe”

“okay, if you insist.. lets go, its not far away from here”

he nodded and you two left the rooftop of the bookstore, going outside the place and starting to walk towards your house right after you locked the bookstore. the comforting silence filled the air, but you noticed that from time to time seokmin would look at you, as if he wanted to say something, but he would always end up looking away and remaining silent.

after a few minutes of walking you suddenly stopped and looked at him with a smile on your face, “its here”, seokmin looked at the house and smiled a bit, “so i guess i should get going. it was great seeing you, yn”

“it was great seeing you as well, seokmin. bye!” you waved at him as he started to walk away.

seokmin called a cab and during the whole drive he couldnt stop thinking about you and your words, he admired how you were such an interesting person, he also thought a lot about how cute you looked while you explained to him why you didnt want to write your book just yet and while he was walking you home. fuck, what if he is becoming attracted to you?

prev - next

INVISIBLE STRING

in a world where when you turn 18 you share an invisible string with your soulmate that only you and your respective soulmate can see it, seokmin, also known as dokyeom, is an actor in the musical theatre world that doesnt have a soulmate and keep it as a secret. meanwhile, yn works in a bookstore and doesnt seem bothered at all by the fact of not sharing a string with someone. is it possible to change the destiny and find your soulmate even tho you dont share the invisible string with anyone?

[twistedastrology]

- The most painful Chiron placements -

----------------------------------------------------------

in my opinion-

to preface, all chiron placements are inherently painful, but these to me are the ones i have the most respect for in a way??

everyone knows chiron as the wounded healer, it represents our soul level wound that, once healed, is our greatest superpower.

so here are a handful of the chiron placements that to me are the most intense.

- Chiron in Aries/1st -

chiron in aries is absolutely terrifying to me and i have the utmost respect for people with this placement because this is a core wound of the self.

they go through life forever trying to find who they are and feeling like the world holds no space for them- ive said like a billion times that my biggest fear is losing myself, and that's the wound that chiron in aries has to deal with.

they might struggle with finding what they're willed to do and might feel like a mosaic of everything else around them instead of a real person and that is so scary to me.

once they manage to heal that wound though, they are fucking unstoppable and inspire others to find themselves just as they did.

- Chiron in Sagittarius -

this one is intense to me because it often has a lot of potential to remain unhealed- this is a wound that relates to spirituality entirely-

i dont know many ppl with this placement at all but i imagine they're scared or intimidated by spirituality as a whole to some degree-

these people don't know what the purpose of life is, they don't know what they believe in or If they believe in anything- the subject of belief and purpose in life is very sore for them.

when healed, this chiron placement bestows an intense sense of belonging and meaning in life, and it has a lot of potential to remain unhealed because spirituality at the very least helps you to find a true meaning in life, without adhering to a strict religion that makes one up.

- Chiron in Aquarius/11th -

im a little biased for this one because i have this placement but i can 100% speak from experience because of that.

this placement is easily the most agonizing one in my entire chart- for the longest time i felt like i would never find true friends, and sometimes that feeling will creep up again and it makes me absolutely crumble.

chiron in aries and chiron in aquarius are very similar to some extent because they both feel like the world won't give them somewhere to feel at home, just for different reasons.

chiron in aquarius makes you feel like you will never have anyone who truly understands you and that even if you do, they won't stick around like you want them to.

for some people, this can make them try to conform to somewhere they don't belong. thankfully i don't have that aspect, but it has crossed my mind multiple times in life.

this placement, when it's triggered by something, makes me immediately consider every possibility upon meeting someone new and forces me to give up my hopes until im proven otherwise.

im pretty sure it's the reason i have an avoidant attachment style as well as trust issues 😮‍💨

when healed though, these people have the ability to bring people together without snuffing anyone's individuality. they always respect people for who they are and the friends they do manage to find respect them for who they are.

much shorter post this time but ive been super tired all day and ofc had a chiron trigger so ive been a little cranky to say the least- but i wanted to write something for some reason so i figured what better than what i struggled with today 😮‍💨

if you have any of these chiron placements or just generally know your chiron fucking hurts really bad when it's triggered, i get it- but it won't be like that forever. the more we manage to heal, the more that wound is transformed into the most stable part of our charts.

if in general you're not doing well rn, again, i get it, but it will never be like that forever. that's not how life works. you won't be happy forever either, but if you were, there would be no value to it.

like the song i named this blog after says, "a lonely life where no one understands you, but don't give up because the music do"

- 🖤 -

[avonne-writes]

Your hs au college head canons sound sooooo angsty and good! I can’t wait to see what you do with them! While I was reading them, I couldn’t help but picturing like a scene where they each separately are talking with their new fiends who basically say something like “I’m surprised you two are together, you don’t seem like you are right for each other” which would add doubts for both of them because they are so used to people thinking they are such a perfect and sweet couple. And of course feeling those doubts causes more tension. And of course these friends only feel this way because they haven’t truly seen their relationship, only the way it’s been during this transition time. Ugh I love this kind of angst! Of course, only if it has a happy ending!

Hi dear! Thank you, I’m glad you like the headcanons.

Great addition, this 100% happens. Gale's friends would phrase it similarly to how you did, politely. They would go on to tell Gale that this happens to most high school sweethearts, and that a break-up doesn’t mean that the previous ~4 years were not meaningful or that they're bad memories. They try to comfort Gale. But they're not without fault either, because like you said, they don't know John and Gale's relationship super well and they see mostly the struggles in that first semester, so they encourage Gale to break up. They try to talk him down from investing more effort into the relationship.

But Bucky gets the short end of the stick here.

His social circle is made up mostly of his teammates. As you can imagine, some of those can be rude and extremely crass, boasting about their conquests and being hurtful out of mere ignorance. These guys would regularly poke fun at Bucky for the fact that he has never had sex with anyone but Gale. They'd say things like "don’t you wanna dip it somewhere else" and "how do you even know you're bi when you haven't even tried pussy". If he wants to skip a party, they whistle and boo at him that the missus has him whipped (this isn’t exclusive to him, they do it with everyone who goes home). Some might even try to comment on Gale, about his prettiness and how they'd tap that too. They think this is being inclusive but Bucky snaps and there's an altercation, and it takes a few days before the team dynamics reset again.

These are not Bucky's friends, just teammates. His actual friends within the team are much nicer, but they also echo some of the same sentiments. "Don’t you feel like you're missing out on something?" Bucky tries to keep most of this from Gale and he's not comfortable discussing his sex life with his mom, so the whole thing builds up in him. It doesn’t help that due to their issues, he and Gale don’t have sex that often or it just feels a bit off.

When he and Gale make up after their big fight, he tells Gale everything. Since this is exactly Gale's insecurity, Gale - much more gently this time than during the fight - tells him that he doesn’t want to hold Bucky back. It clearly pains him, but he even offers to do an open relationship for a while. But Bucky doesn’t want that, and he says it too. He snuggles close to Gale and basically just asks him to reassure him that it's okay not to want that. That it's okay to be with only one person and that they'll work on making sure neither of them regrets it in the future.

Gale is very pessimistic and thinks that's impossible, but at that point, he wants to help Bucky relax and he has the selfish desire to say yes too, so he tells Bucky that it's okay and that they will figure everything out. Ultimately, they do figure it out every time they struggle with something related to this, so Gale’s pessimistic fears don’t come true. And their sex life improves drastically after the fight. It’s the best it has ever been.

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE : SEPTEMBER 2000

From Tragedy to Triumph–Kane Overcomes the Greatest Odds

Interview conducted by Laura

Transcript Below!!!

We all know the story. Kane lost his mother in a fire that also disfigured him–a fire set by his own half-brother, Undertaker. After that loss and devastation, Kane spent his childhood locked in a cold, dark basement by his father, Paul Bearer. As an adult, Kane came to the World Wrestling Federation, a physically strong force, but easy prey for manipulators such as the McMahons, Chyna, Tori, X-Pac, as well as his own flesh and blood. A tortured soul scarred by those flames of yesteryear. A man continually used and abused by those he let into his heart. He was referred to as a monster and “-----.” Today having overcome the greatest of odds, Kane stands strong. Once without a voice, Kane finally speaks. For the first time in history, Kane talks to World Wrestling Federation Magazine, answering questions friends, foes and dans alike have been asking for a long, long time. 

Laura: For as long as anyone can remember, you have been silent. What made you decide to finally use your voice? 

Kane: People thought that I couldn’t talk or communicate. The simple truth is: I just never felt that there was anything to say that my actions couldn’t say better. I finally realized that while actions speak louder than words, people don’t always “listen” to actions. They may “hear,” but you can’t make them listen.

Laura: How much courage did it take for you to speak that first time in front of millions of viewers?

Kane: My whole life has been filled with pain and adversity. I have always done what needs to be done to survive. Courage, if you want to call it that, has become ingrained in me, through every step in my life. Speaking was just another step. 

Laura: Perhaps no other Federation Superstar has experienced as much tragedy in his life as you have. From the abuse by your father Paul Bearer, to the multiple deceptions at the hands of Tori, X-Pac, the McMahons and Chyna. Do you feel all of this has made you a stronger person?

Kane: What doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger…I aint dead yet. 

Laura: Of all those who have betrayed you, who do you harbor the most resentment towards?

Kane: Of all the people you mentioned, only two are related to me. The others had their reasons. The McMahons justify all their actions by saying “it’s business, not personal.” I can understand that. In a way, X-Pac was also motivated by business. Maybe he felt that he wasn’t getting ahead by sticking with me. D-Generation X had aligned itself with the McMahons and was making a serious play for power. Same with Chyna. Even Tori probably felt that way. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Ambition warps people, makes them ruthless.

Laura: How do you feel about your father and brother? 

Kane: The others you mentioned had no blood bond with me, but my father and brother are a different story. Their betrayal was, and remains, worse. It was worse because it began long before my arrival here in the Federation. It remains the worst because it is still going on. I can understand my father’s betrayal. He is not physically gifted, so he felt that he had to use me to achieve his goals in the World Wrestling Federation. And eventually, we made peace. Also, I feel that his betrayal was motivated by my brother. 

Laura: How do you feel about your brother Undertaker? 

Kane: Yes, my brother, the grand manipulator. Perhaps of all people, I am the only one who truly understands him. We have had our moments of reconciliation, but these temporary alliances have always ended with me getting the shaft. You can’t trust him. From the time we were children, he has always been out for himself, no one else. And he will take whatever measures he feels are needed to eliminate any and all threats–real or imagined. Together the two of us would be unstoppable; we would dominate the World Wrestling Federation. No one, not even Vince McMahon, could stop us. Unfortunately, my brother couldnt live with that. He won’t share power–or anything else. Everything that has happened to me has been his fault. From the fact I wear a mask to the betrayals of others. I worshiped him when I was a child, but now I see his weakness–all of them. Maybe someday we will come to a total reconciliation instead of uneasy, temporary alliances when we both need them. But for now, I always stay behind him.  That way he can’t stab me in the back. 

Laura: Do you think you could ever trust another Federation Superstar again? 

Kane: I don’t need to trust anybody. I see people for their usefulness and certain purposes. But I keep my eyes open. 

Laura: What was your mother like?

Kane: She was beautiful. She loved me. In her eyes, I could do no wrong. Perhaps that’s the root of my brother’s problems, Undertaker thought she loved me more. 

Laura: Were you in love with Tori? If so, could you ever love another woman again? 

Kane: I would have done anything for Tori. In fact, I did do everything for her. Is that love? I guess. Was it real? No. She surely opened my eyes. Just when you think you know someone, you discover something different about them. Sometimes it’s good…sometimes it’s not. 

Laura: What do you want out of life? 

Kane: What do we all want? Happiness? Contentment? Power? Pleasure? Perfection? Or just plain amusement? People spend their lives trying to answer these questions and never can. I’m going to do whatever I want to make myself happy. Whatever I want–and if no one likes it…that is unfortunate for them. 

Laura: Is getting the World Wrestling Federation Championship your number-one aspiration? 

Kane: Currently, yes. 

Laura: Now that you’re speaking–something none of us would’ve ever thought possible–the next step is for the mask to come off. Will you ever take it off and show the world who you are? And who are you, Kane? 

Kane: Let’s start with what I am not. I am not the “Big Red —-.” I am not a freak. I am not the innocent, naïve, child-like simpleton some people think. Like everyone else here in the Federation, I have my own agenda. But unlike most, I am capable of accomplishing it. And if you don't know who I am, just wait–you’ll find out.

[pinkygall]

You Aren't Alone...

For anyone reading this, I want to emphasize the significance of stepping out of our comfort zones and sharing lifes experiences. It is through these moments that we can grow, learn, and expand our horizons. So, take a leap of faith and share you experience - you never know how much of a difference a random stranger could make in your life. 

By opening up and sharing, we not only inspire others but also create a sense of connection and understanding in a world that often feels disconnected. So, let go of any hesitation and embrace the power of vulnerability. Your story matters, and it has the potential to touch someone's heart in ways you may never imagine. 

Just know that this is a safe space where you will be heard and supported without judgment. Remember, vulnerability is not a sign of weakness, but rather a testament to your strength and resilience. So, trust in the power of sharing and let your voice be heard. ��Nobody may even see this post but just know, I will be here to listen and offer support. 

Words have the ability to create a ripple effect, inspiring others to open up and share their own stories. Together, we can create a community where vulnerability is celebrated and connections are deepened.  

Here goes nothing, 

My name is Alizé, I'm 20 and I have been battling with many health issues since 2017. It has been a challenging journey, but I have learned to appreciate the small victories and find strength in the support of others. Sharing my story not only helps me heal but also encourages others to share their own struggles and find solace in knowing they are not alone. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and suspected Lupus back then and recently as the symptoms have stacked I have received quite a few more diagnoses. These are Pots, Epilepsy, and PNES. These additional diagnoses have added complexity to my health journey, but I refuse to let them define me. For anyone with an invisible illness or anything they are currently battling. Just know you are not alone. Others may look at you and not understand the daily challenges you face, but there is a whole community of individuals who can relate and empathize with your experiences. It's important to remember that your worth and identity are not determined by your illnesses, but by the strength and resilience you demonstrate in navigating through them. Keep pushing forward and seeking support from those who truly understand what you're going through. 

[kenas-artstuff]

Hello! i'm getting the brainworms so i apologize for the length of this ask and if it's not that coherent

So on the subject on MiA with adult protagonists i'm thinking about the potential with like Riko getting to have her first true adventure and taste of freedom after a shitty childhood (or lack of thereof), finally getting to experience new things even as a young adult is still such a cathartic experience and can cause childlike wonder. it's relatable and still tragic in a way so there's no loss at her not being a kid!!

She can still be knowledgeable and kind despite what happened to her and realistically a bit oblivious bc let's be real early 20s are a confusing mess for anyone. i think she might even hit it off still very well with a Prushka around her age bc there could be a contrast and wonder in Riko's early life without her parents, and Prushka who despite being in the Abyss still somehow had a parent (parents?? depending on how you picture the Umbra Hands when they're not in factory reset mode) and some semblance of a childhood. Their time together might be too short for that if sticking with canon but i'm a bit weak for Prushka introducing Riko to basic childhood experiences that she didn't really have bc of the orphanage and how much it sucked

Riko and Reg being young adults could still 100% cause them to be treated like inexperienced children by other delvers bc it is essentially what they are. and it would make more sense i think that ppl just let them go into the Abyss in this case instead of just accepting that a bunch of little kids are going down there unsupervised like in canon yknow. sure it's a fucked up world but what the hell

It's clear that MiA doesn't need the main cast to be children bc it's shown plenty that it can do shock value if it needs to. hell one of my favorite scenes is still the one with Gyarike in the field of Eternal Fortunes; the state the delvers are in the and powerlessness of Reg & co next to Gyarike who is much more experienced, pragmatic, and here to do what must be done works so incredibly well in my opinion. it hits hard and is a wonderful slap to get you back into what MiA is like if you experience it through the movie

There would still be enough shock value, there would be wonders and discoveries, there would still be Horrors, but at the very least we wouldn't have to experience the author being a creep 💀 your rewrite is just gonna become the canon in my mind truly

YES SO MUCH YES TO ALL OF THIS!!!!

I'm especially a fan of your point abt Riko and Reg being treated like the inexperienced rookies they are, and omg I didn't even think of the logistics of whole adults just letting 12 year olds go on a suicide mission. jesus fuck man O_O This just cements my decision to make them adults even more LOL

Also the point of Riko being able to enjoy a wondrous, free second childhood in the abyss because she had to grow up basically ostriziced and put under her mother's shadow, all while being stuck in Orth as her friends kept growing up and delving deeper and deeper... FUCK MAN... This makes me think of what to change her title to bc at first i was thinking of "Sovereign of Hope" instead of Children, but with this context, she could also be the "Sovereign of Wonder" or "Truth"... SO MANY POSSIBILITIES

AND THEN PRUSHKA, who I always imagined to be just a bit older than Riko, would be a wonderful opportunity to show Riko that sort of family and childhood bond, and having true friends and doing fun little things together! ESPECIALLY to show Riko that she ALREADY ACQUIRED THOSE in Reg and Nanachi, and was just too focused on the abyss and finding her mom (coughLive up to her mom's projected legacycough) to really notice what kind of bonds she actually formed - and all that VERY neatly ties into the whole theme of bonds between people and their shared wishes!!!

Ahhhh thanks for all the brainworms I am eating them up like crazy >>>>>>:)

[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

back to masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, the fated question. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes darted to the newcomer. 

They stayed as he beheld you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled at him.

Then dropped the bomb.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My god, you’re a filmbro!” 

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

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

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

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

There was one, solitary, quiet moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A tilt of your head. “Are you lying?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello again, Mr. Filmbro.”

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

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

He would be cordial—kind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit. 

Maybe his irrational dislike ran further than he thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Disney Princess Movie Set—Complete Edition.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re for my ex-boyfriend.” 

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

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

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

“Oh?” Small world. “What’s the name?”

“Kim Mingyu. Do you know him?” 

Vernon Chwe nearly shit his oversized jeans.

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

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

Right. 

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

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

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

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

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

A half-truth—that should suffice. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for minding his business.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What master plan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely.”

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

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

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

“Did _____ actually?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You, that is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vernon visibly shivered. 

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

“Damn it,” he said under his breath. 

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

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

vernon: u dont have to wait till next week 

vernon: ill help u with the plan

There. And now, he shall wait.

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

normal disney enjoyer: wait who tf is this??

Oops. 

vernon: oh mb this is vernon lmao

vernon: from the filmstore

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

vernon: ??? ive said it now tf

normal disney enjoyer: and im happy u have ;)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nevermind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course not. “Sure.” 

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

Sure. “Of course not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wonder why,” he muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Swear on my life, Mr. Filmbro.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then an idea came into his head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay so…” the boy held up the Pocahontas CD. “Native American princess falls for the coloniser? How the fuck are you defending this?”

You could only offer a sheepish smile. “The soundtrack is really good?”

“Knowing Disney,” he crowed, cracking open the DVD, “They probably have a song on how terrible the poor Natives are.”

You eyed him, surprised. “How the hell did you guess that?”

First, Vernon made a face, as if he himself could not believe his excellent intuition. Then, he only laughed a little, taking out the Dances with Wolves DVD from the shelf. “I’ve watched enough Disney movies with my sister to know how they work.”

“Oh, so you have watched them?” you mused, watching him exchange the discs. “All that time I thought you only watched what Mingyu watched.”

“No, I watch foreign indie films like an asshole,” he clarified, shutting the cases, and putting Dances with Wolves back on the shelf. “The thing is, I still have my grievances against the super popular films. You know the list you mentioned to me the other day?” You nodded. “Most of these film junkies get off on those movies. I’ll admit I like them, but I’ve seen so much better.” 

You snorted. “Like Inception?” Vernon watched you for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. “What? You asked him, tilting your head. 

He followed your movement—he too, craned his head, his brown curls cascading along his forehead. “Like Inception…and better.”

“Better?” you gasped out, fingers rising to your bottom lip in shock. “Does Mr. Filmbro prefer a movie over Nolan’s grand—no, best release ever?!”

“Ha, ha,” he monotoned, only adding to your amusement. “It’s still his best film! But,” he added, shrugging a little, “I may or may not have lied to you the first time we met. Inception’s not my favourite movie.”

“What?!” you could barely contain your grin. “Oh my God, if I find out it’s a fucking Disney movie, I’m never letting you live it down!”

“Let’s not go that far,” he jeered, earning a harsh nudge of your elbow. “Hey! You should be thanking me for my honesty.”

“How about you extend that honesty and tell me which movie is your favourite?” 

Vernon mocked a ponder. “It’s a hard pass.” 

“Come on!” you pressed, scooting a little closer, almost reaching out as if to nudge him some more. “You’ve already committed a felony with me. Telling me your favourite movie is naturally the next step.” 

“Because that’s obviously how normal human interaction goes,” he countered, sarcasm clear in his voice.

“Tell me.” 

“No.”

“Tell me!” 

“Hmm…no!” he repeated, assembling the last of the DVDs. “Maybe if we raid Mingyu’s house next time.”

“Oh?” Leaning closer, you paused his hands on the movie sets. “Do you want there to be a next time?”

It was then Vernon realised the implications of your question, a consequence of his own suggestion. It was almost comical, how his eyes widened like full moons, and he immediately shook his head. “Now you know that’s not what I meant.” 

“Then what did you mean?” you asked him, and the way he exposed a slight stutter at your question had you laughing. “Would you want to see me again?”

What Vernon wanted to tell you was no, no, no, because another second with you would end with all the blood in his system rushing to his head, and other places. Damn everything and everyone, he would want to see you again—no. No. He wouldn’t. He would not. 

“You haven’t answered the question,” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

The boy was about to stutter out an answer when the two of you heard a door slam downstairs. 

You whirled back, eyes instantly darting to the door. They then focused back on you, widened very much like his not long ago. “_____,” Vernon muttered. 

“Mr. Filmbro…”

The furrow of his brow appeared for a split-second before it disappeared at the shuffling underneath. “What the fuck do we do?” he gulped out, looking around to find anywhere to escape from. This was it—he thought he was getting away with trespassing just because you had convinced him to, but that fuckass ex-boyfriend was going to catch them in his bedroom, two inches away from kissing you, and—

“Wait,” you then said, catching his wrist in your hand. He barely had time to react to it before you shot up from your seated position, hauling the boy along with you. He stumbled, but then you nearly made him fall flat on his face as you ran to the shutter closets, sliding them straight open. The inside was a mess of branded clothing and boxes of sports equipment, but there was one opening with just enough for two people in trouble to hide. 

You first went in, and, with a harsh tug, pulled him in with you. He crashed into you, but you had enough control to slide the shutter door shut. There was so much commotion that when you both finally stilled, breathing harshly as you heard Mingyu enter the room, Vernon blinked back to see your face about two inches away from him. 

He was going to yelp—strong on going to, because you sensed his incoming shock, and smacked your hand against his mouth. His eyebrows could have touched the top of his forehead, but what you noticed the most was the warmth of his skin, burning the longer your touch lingered on his lips. 

The smile you offered him as you put a finger to your lips had him almost passing out. 

“Yeah, man, come round whenever,” was all Vernon could hear, still not comprehending Mingyu’s speech due to your hand. “No, Minseo’s not here, what the fuck? Why do you wanna know where my sister is?” 

Slowly, ever so carefully as not to alert him, you pulled down on one of the blinds of the shutter, spying the movie which he was about to see. Vernon should have been following your movements, but he could only sense you, inching closer and closer to him till you were pressed against him. Of course, you were only trying to better your vision of your ex-boyfriend, but the boy beside you could not focus. The hand on his mouth—God—he needed, so badly, to be put down. Your fingers were soft, and although his lips could not help brushing against your palm, everything in him resisted the urge to react.

Quickly glancing at your accomplice in glee, you dropped your hand from his mouth, silently urging him to watch. He could have rebelled against your pulling away, but he instead obliged. Bringing his face next to yours, he glanced at you one last time before peering at the vision that welcomed. 

There he was, the golden boy, raking his hair as he strolled into the middle of the room, observing the TV before him, and the DVD player sitting at the bottom. He kept humming, as if agreeing with whoever was on the phone. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go to that party later…no, I’m not bringing _____! You know about that already!” 

The boy in hiding quickly snuck a peek at you, who soured a little at the mention. “Hmm? Yeah, whatever. What? Nah, I’m just gonna watch a chill movie before leaving.” Mingyu scanned the films on his shelf. Walking over, he leaned down, sliding out The Shape of Water from his collection, cradling his phone between his shoulder blade and his craned head as he opened the DVD. 

Vernon could not help pulling a face at Mingyu’s choice of a ‘chill movie’ being a film about a mute woman wanting to fuck a water creature. You probably did not understand the reference, but by the growing anticipation on your face, you only cared about the scene you two had created, and was about to unfold just then. 

Mingyu slid the CD into the player, pressing play as he made his way to his frameless bed, settling down in the sheets. “Yeah…no, no, it’s just starting.”

The two of you could hear clearly the opening credits, which began with the most obnoxious opening music of Disney’s intro. Vernon was taken aback by how Mingyu did not realise it from that very moment, but considering he was too busy chatting pure shit on the phone, laughing to himself, the boy assumed he was simply waiting for the action to occur.

“Any minute now, Mr. Filmbro,” you whispered, oh-so-fucking close to him. He did not respond, merely a nod.

Craning his head to see through the shutters, he noticed the animation come to life, the ship within dangerous waters sailing with uncertainty. He snuck a quick glance at Mingyu’s face, which started garnering a little confusion. 

“Are these extra credit scenes? I don’t remember any of this,” he heard the OG filmbro complain. 

You could not help the snort that escaped you. Vernon glared at you, but with little effect. “What?” you whispered. “I don’t remember him being this thick.” 

“What the fuck is this cartoon…” the two of you heard Mingyu pipe up. Finally, the buffoon is realising this is not the two-time Oscar winning animation, but the four-time Oscar winning CGI. “This wasn’t in the director’s cut.”

You still could not believe how your ex-boyfriend was taking this long for the realisation to hit. Even when Eric jumped up on the screen, holding onto the ship’s ropes, the watcher only regarded the character intently, as if he was somehow part of the stranger film. 

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

Getting up from where he sat, he ended the call, informing whoever was on the other side that he would meet later. He took out the CD from the player, examining its exterior. “Can’t see shit on this CD…” He was not wrong—you were smart, choosing the discs which did not have any images, confusing the boy all the more. “Maybe I put in the wrong one…”

He shrugged it off, taking out The Dark Knight instead, another easy, breezy movie to watch when The Shape of Water did not pull through. Now Nolan was a hard one to criticise—Vernon himself was a huge fan, but seeing Mingyu try to watch it irked him. A good thing, then, was it not, that he was bound for a second surprise?

Repeating the routine, he slid the secret CD, settling back into his frameless bed. “Great minds, huh?” you whispered to him, and Vernon only rolled his eyes, not enjoying the dig against him in the slightest. 

“You dated him,” he griped, watching the movie start up.

“Waste of good looks,” you whispered, your partner-in-crime nodding in agreement. The movie beginning had you both falling silent as a bird of prey hits on one of the soldier’s heads. The scene is set in the cold mountains of China, but the sole audience does not catch it immediately. 

“So fucking weird…” Mingyu trailed off again, leaning forwards. “This isn’t the robbery scene…”

Of course it was not—the idiot would not witness one of the best film openings in Vernon’s humble opinion. He would not feast his eyes to the workings of Joker’s bank robbery, nor the cold one-liners from the incapacitated bank manager. 

No, what he was served was the Huns crossing the Northern border, which, as the boy finally began to clock after a good ten minutes, was not what he was expecting.

“What the…” once again, he heaved himself up, walking over to the player. “Now I know something’s wrong…”

Both you and Vernon stretched further close, as much as the closet would allow, to peek at Mingyu’s frustration as he brought the CD out once more, examining the back and front. He then took out some more of his favourites, opening their cases and taking out the CDs, observing them closely. He was suspicious now. How could he not be, when he was expecting incel excellence, but was greeted with the same shit his younger sister—his crazy ex-girlfriend, even—would usually watch.

He blinked back. 

His deathly stillness had the two trespassers pausing. You two looked at each other, faces losing any humour, perhaps recognising that he had clocked on. You watched the scene as Mingyu rapidly added one CD after another, expecting one movie only to have a Disney-fied replacement, completely botching his plans. Every movie that received such Disneyfication further enraged him, the grit in his teeth heard, the tick in his jaw visible. 

The final straw was when the Godfather was slotted in, his all-time, unmatched favourite. There was darkness for the first few minutes, and he sighed too quickly in relief, about to lay back on his mattress. 

Then, a curly-haired girl, a toddler at best, in huge green glasses becomes visible, being told to open her eyes. 

“Is this where magic comes from?”

“What the fuck?!”

And as a conversation between the little girl and her elderly grandmother blossomed, there was a specific dialogue which sent the young boy over the edge.

“This candle became a magical flame that would never grow out…and it blessed us with a refuge in which to live…a place of wonder…An Encanto.”

You nearly burst out laughing. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, could have seen red. 

“Who fucked with my CDs?!” he demanded to no one in particular, though in his mind he knew there was a culprit. “My fucking CDs, man!” 

“Did you do the Godfather swap?” you whispered, barely able to contain yourself.

“Two special families with one heir that doesn’t feel connected to their lifestyle.” Vernon grinned at you, impressed with himself. “It was too easy.”

“Where did you even find the Encanto DVD? It wasn’t in our set.” 

“I found it in his little filmbro shelf.” He ticked his head towards the boy in physical agony. “My guess is that his sister is a Disney fan and left it in his mancave.”

“Oh my God,” you got out, watching the melodramatic scene of your dear ex show rage akin to a teenage boy losing Call of Duty online. 

“That fucking bitch,” he guttered, over and over again as he threw the Encanto CD across the room. Those words came out, and the boy behind the shutters stiffened. Okay—there is rage, and then there is straight up promise of violence. Vernon may not be much of a knight, but if they were caught, he knew he would have to protect you.

He hoped to everything that existed that it would not have to come to that—Vernon would rather fake having a heart attack and have you drag his body out of the Kim Manor. 

It seemed as that might have been a real possibility, until the boy called out a threat to a name they were not expecting.

“Minseo, I’m gonna kill you!” Mingyu roared as he stormed out of the room, undoubtedly on his way to destroy her room, even take his anger out on her Jellycat collection.

As you heard his frenzy disappear down the halls, the trespassers took this as the opportunity to escape the closet, Vernon already creating a little distance in case you come too close and cause his passing out.

“We need to get out now,” he declared as you crept out of the wardrobe, his head whipping to the door which Mingyu left from. 

You nodded, not quite looking at him as you dashed straight for the final DVD. “Oh, Jesus,” He groaned, watching you scramble for the movie, trying horrifically to hide it within your clothes. “You do realise he can come in any second!” 

“Okay, okay,” you said, hurrying over to the window. “Wait, you can go first.”

Vernon raised a brow, following after you. “How come you don’t want to go first?”

You only ushered him further, grinning. “You can peek at my ass again.”

“My eyes will be closed,” he sniped, already carrying it out, trying his absolute best not to imagine your ass in his mind—maybe stakeouts for goofy purposes were not for the weak-willed. “You know, just for that alone, you’re going down first.” 

“Whatever suits you, Mr. Filmbro,” you almost chanted, aggravating him all the more as you stepped out of the window, beginning the trek down. 

He looked down as you descended with one film in hand, still stealing glances at the only door in the room, terrified that the boy would burst through the door, see you both and bring about his downfall. Subconsciously, his fingers hovered just before his mouth, biting the skin around his nails. He knew he should have run himself over with an oncoming vehicle. A messy plan, but still fool-proof. 

“Stop panicking and come down here!” your voice snapped him out of his anxious frenzy. “I know you’re biting your nails off right now!”

The boy instantly repelled his hand, instead furrowing his brow. A little irritating—scary, as well, really—how predictable he was in your eyes. How quickly you had figured him out.

“Alright,” he said, absent-mindedly as he reached for the windowsill. He peaked down again, not realising how far down the descent truly was. Rationally, he knew it was not the worst drop he’d seen on the first floor, but the nerves had started affecting his mind. Now, this entire time he was watching you take one step, two steps down, but he did not have the strength to follow you. 

Still, he knew it was now or never.

Vernon was going to be at your heels (or, more anatomically correct, at your head) when he heard a shuffle from behind him.

He whipped his head around, anticipating the worst.

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

Oh. Jesus. Christ.

“The nerd from film theory?”

Vernon’s face dropped. 

The Nerd from Film Theory? The Nerd from fucking Film Theory? 

It was then and there, in that exact moment of time, that the filmbro in question did not give a single care for what the popular boy thought of him. Vernon knew everything about this boy (whether he wanted to or not); his every class, his every terrible friend, even his film preferences, thanks to yours truly. Yet Mingyu did not even know his name—did not even bother to remember.

It was because of that that he managed to garner some essence of his bravado, finally settling both feet on the ladder steps. 

He also decided to add in some corrections to Mingyu’s knowledge. 

“Jo March did not need any man after Laurie…in fact, she did not need any male support, asshole.”

For added effect, he raised his middle finger, as if the burn was sick enough to hurt. 

Mingyu’s devastating response was a confused tilt of his head, clearly not understanding his reference. 

It was enough time for Vernon to hurry his descent down, catching the former more off guard. 

“What the fuck—” was all the boy heard before he quickly tried to travel downwards, feet nearly slipping on the steps by his sheer carelessness. Mingyu’s head popped out from the window, and saw the great ladder leaning against the sill, shocked gaze lowering to where Vernon was descending to.

When his eyes found yours, he could have choked on his gulp. Even more so when you smirked at him.

“_____?”

As Vernon finally dropped off the ladder, dusting himself off, he watched the two of you, staring each other down. When he gauged Mingyu’s fear of you, there was a small part of him that was filled with admiration.

Mingyu’s demand sounded more like a whimper. “What are you doing here?”

You only curled your lips further upwards, grinning like a wild animal. It chilled your ex-boyfriend to the bone when you held the Tangled CD up for him to see, with your other hand raising your middle finger. 

“This is for calling me a stupid bitch.”

His mouth dropped open. That gave you just enough time to grab onto Vernon’s hand, enveloping your fingers around his wrist. 

And run for your life.

Vernon let out a yelp as he was yanked forward by your hold, barely hearing Mingyu’s loud curses and retreating back into the house, no doubt to follow after you two—the trespasser could only guess, much too occupied by your hand, a guiding beacon of mischief, never absent in his life as you ran and ran and ran out of the garden, out of the sleek maze which you two first entered, catching sight of the open garden gate.

The boy heard distant footsteps coming from the house, and as you both saw your car parked beyond the greater gates, you fished out your keys, finally letting go of his hand to dash over to the driver’s side, jamming the key in the lock. Vernon let out a startled noise as the car unlocked, wasting no time to jump inside, heart beating loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear. Mingyu appeared at the main doorstep at the exact same time, even more shocked to realise he had not noticed his ex-girlfriend’s car casually parked before him. 

Just as you climbed inside, swivelling the keys into ignition, Mingyu began to run after the car, a mere ten seconds between him and catching you two.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _____, just start it already!” the nervous boy in shotgun begged, his head swivelling back at every chance, heart lurching at every metre closer the filmnemesis crept.

The car revved to life at your signal.

It was time to get the fuck out of here. 

“GO, GO, GO!” Vernon screamed at the top of his voice, fisting the handle at the roof of the car as you slammed on the accelerator, racing out of the driveway with Mingyu’s bellowing following after you. Of course, since he was a mere, enraged college student, and you both were in a (slight) state-of-the-art vehicle, you zoomed out of the neighbourhood, his curses fading with every turn further out, you managing to escape. 

Vernon, because he had never done such a thing before, was still screaming to leave for the next ten minutes until you had had enough, swerving to the side of the road, not far from his DVD store. You almost crashed into the nearby park, frightening a few birds that expected peace within the sidewalk trees, only to be disturbed by a troublesome ex and a film-obsessed loser. 

You gushed out an exhale, fingers gripping tightly to the wheel, almost as stunned as the boy beside you, who seemed to take in the town’s worth of air in his little body. But then, you realised the gravity of the situation, the sole movie at the back which could not be swapped, and the valiant escape from something you never thought you would come out of alive.

Just then, you burst into laughter. 

The boy whirled his head to you, who could not stop the tumbles of laughter that escaped your mouth, hanging on to the car wheel as you cackled and cackled like the Wicked Witch of the West. Well, that was what you thought you sounded at that time, but you, as always, did not care.

Only that you were wrong—at least in Vernon’s eyes. You were wrong, because if you were laughing like some Disney villain, then he would have been more pissed off—enraged even. He was instead in awe, shocked at the raw guffawing that spluttered out of you without shame. Had the two of you not evaded a great danger? Nearly been arrested for your legally ambiguous behaviour? 

For the first time in his life, he was not embroiled with dread. 

There was no anxiety in his body, no essence of panic at the consequences of your actions. No, he could only stare at you and your mirth, and find himself raising his brows, the beginnings of a scoffed laugh creeping from his lips. 

The more he looked at you, the more his own laughter joined yours. 

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

After a few minutes, when it finally seemed as if you would settle down, you sighed, leaning back into the driver’s seat. “We should do that again.”

Despite the amusement lingering, he immediately shut the idea down. “Not a chance.”

You admired the ancient lining of the tree’s bark in front of the car. “The way you were laughing with me just now, you’d think you want to commit crimes from now on.” 

A dramatic roll of eyes. “I’m not going to jail. They don’t even have a TV there.”

“You and your fuck ass movie collection…”

That brought out another chuckle from the boy—you smiled at the notion. He then looked at the rearview mirror, where the last movie was splayed, all alone and away from the others. “Kind of a shame we missed out on one last movie.”

“Right?” You followed his line of sight. “Fuck, Tangled of all movies?”

“Wait, isn’t that the one with Rapunzel?” 

You let out an impressed hum. “A week of seeing my face, and you’re already catching on!” A mischievous raise of brows. “Another month with me and you can sing all the tracks from the film.”

“You really shouldn’t have this much faith in me, _____,” he said, shaking his head. “Plus, this might be the one movie I didn’t watch with Sofe.” He saw you perk up at the new name. “My sister. She’s the one who forced me to watch all those Disney films years ago.”

“I like her already,” you mused, a finger on your chin. You paused for a bit, looking down at your shoes, settled lightly upon the pedals. Then, you started the engine once more.  “So…Tangled is the only one you haven’t watched, huh.” 

A glance at you. “Yep.” 

You looked back, hoping to reverse away from the tree. “Right…” You checked your watch, the car slowly moving out of the pavement. “Interesting…super duper interesting.”

It was something insane, fantastical the way Vernon’s nerves seemed to hum at the implications. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“What? I just said that it’s interesting you’ve never watched Tangled…”

The boy scoffed, crossing his arms. “This is where you’re gonna force me to watch the stupid movie.” 

But then he caught the look of surprise on your face, as if you had been caught. “Oh, Jesus, you’re not gonna let me out the car, are you?”

“No, no!” you countered at once, raising your hands. “Well, yes as in I was hoping you would watch the movie with me, and no, I won’t force you.” You sighed a little, fingers back on the wheel. “You’ve already done so much today. If you want to go home, I’ll drive you straight there.”

He watched your expression, the prepared acceptance, the anticipation—the sliver of hope, hiding itself amongst the flurry of other emotions. In all honesty, he was tired; the entirety of this evening had exhausted his social battery (which he doubted he had to begin with) and he still had some sound image work left back at the college studio. If it was any other person asking, he would have happily bunked them off—pretended that he had suddenly developed a terminal illness in the span of minutes, and begged them to drive him back home to ‘live out the rest of his days’.

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

When he let out a soft sigh, you were anticipating the worst. Then, he revealed the answer. 

“Let’s watch a fucking Disney Princess movie.”

VERNON DID NOT WANT TO WATCH A FUCKING DISNEY PRINCESS MOVIE. 

The moment you opened the door to your house—a shabby, student house about twenty minutes from campus—stepping inside, he realised there was no way back, and that he had to humour your wish, or else lose respect in your eyes. 

As you brought him down the small hallway, leading into the little living room, you quickly grabbed the takeout boxes of your flatmates, murmuring hurried apologies as you left the room. The boy looked around, the slight cracks of the blue walls, the 32” TV sitting at the opposite end of the fraying couches. Posters of Bridget Jones, Notting Hill, and other Hugh Grant movies were plastered on one end of the wall, while Vernon nearly had a jumpscare when he caught a life-size cardboard cutout of some Disney hero—this one unrecognisable. 

“That’s the love of my life you’re staring at,” came the voice behind him, and he whirled to see you, a huge bowl of popcorn cradled in your hands. “Why’re you standing in the middle like an idiot? Sit, sit!” Vernon obliged, making to settle on the sofas when you tutted. “Are you mental? No, sit on the bean bags near the TV!” 

How stupid of me to assume I could sit on furniture designed for sitting, he meant to crow, but the moment he settled on the bean bags, he instantly preferred their malleable comfort. When he let out a relaxed sigh, you huffed out a laugh, propping the bowl before him. “See?” 

“I was gonna say…” Vernon trailed off, watching you press a few buttons on the DVD player. “Where’s the CD?”

“Already in,” you said, picking up the remote as you settled in the beanbag next to him, scooting closer. Catching a look at his face, you bellowed, “Yes, Mr. Filmbro, I watched it recently!”

“How recently are we saying?”

“...yesterday evening.” 

“And this is the masterpiece you wanna show me,” Vernon murmured, sneaking a look back at the cardboard cutout. “Don’t tell me he’s the floozy that’s leading the film.” 

You turned the TV on. “Fine. I won’t tell you.”

He then looked at you. “Oh, Jesus.”

“Trust me!” you then reasoned, putting a hand on the boy’s knee—the mere touch had his brain rewiring, nerves all ceasing to work on the one point where your touch remained. You really had to stop—first your hand was on his mouth in that damned (blessed) closet, and now this soft reminder. He tried his best not to fix his eyes on your lingering fingers as you carried on, “This film is a modern classic. I promise.” 

Well shit, he thought. When you looked at him like that, you could have convinced him that Quentin Tarantino was a better foot fetishiser than a filmmaker. 

“Okay,” he said, almost believing in your words. 

With that, the landing page for the movie turned on, and there were the main characters; he assumed the chick with the long, blonde hair was Rapunzel, and the man behind her—which, Vernon thought, did not deserve to be celebrated as a life-sized cardboard cutout—was the love interest. Whatever. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” he mumbled as you pressed the fated Play, anticipating the worst. 

And as the two of you fell silent, Vernon still holding out on the popcorn, watching suspiciously at the screen, the voice of a man flooded the TV speaker.

“This…this is the story of how I died.” 

The boy immediately reacted, face dropping. “The fuck?” he got out, catching the WANTED! Poster of the very man he bad-mouthed not two minutes ago. 

“But don’t worry, this is actually a fun story…and the truth is…it isn’t even mine.” 

“Wait, this dude is already dead?” he asked.

“Just watch the movie!” you answered impatiently, making the boy sigh and lean back into the bean bag.

“This is the story of a girl named Rapunzel. And it starts…with the sun.”

You wanted to keep your eyes rooted to the screen, watch the unfurling of Mother Gothel’s backstory, but that was precisely when the incessant complaining began. 

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

“Having basic sympathy will take you great places, my guy,” you merely said, scoffing down the popcorn in the bowl. “Their kid just got stolen by some crazy bitch.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, piping down once more when the flashbacks ceased, and the present day was introduced into the story. On the screen, a small, green chameleon entered, camouflaging himself behind a pot of flowers. He guessed that the chick with the long hair—Rapunzel—would be finding him, and, lo and behold, he was right. In all fairness, though, it did not take a film degree to work that out.

He also did not need a film degree to guess that a musical number was about to be introduced, not even ten minutes into the movie. That he worked out all by himself, when the guitar riffs sounded. Beside him, you instantly brightened, smile widening as TANGLED morphed on the screen, the song about to begin. 

It was around that point when, as he spared you a glance, he realised you were about to sing along.

“Oh, Jesus—”

If his life was a romantic film, this would have been the perfect setup; the girl that made his heart flutter was seated dangerously close to him, bean bags already touching with shoulders barely following, watching the cheesiest animated movie. He could have seen the shot now, with his gaze turning rose-y as you would open your mouth and sing along to the song. Of course, you would sing beautifully, better than the original singer, and he would sit there, absolutely mesmerised. 

Oh, he was stunned alright. 

“SEVEN AM THE USUAL MORNING, LINE UP—!”

The boy flinched at the sheer volume of your chant—screech would be the better word for it, for he guessed singing was not one of your natural talents. 

You could not see his judgement at all, eyes closed and clutching your fists to your chest, continuing the song. “START ON THE FLOOR AND SWEEP TILL THE FLOOR’S ALL CLEEEEEANNNN—!”

A scoff escaped him, not quite believing the scene before him. He was shocked to silence, the movie’s music now in his background, the forefront being your attempt to outsing the princess. Either no one had told you how horrendous your singing was, or you simply did not care for the opinions of others. A part of him hoped that it was the latter—for you to be so comfortable in singing away, despite what others thought, made his judgement disappear. 

Shamelessly you sang the entire number, up to the point where the scene cuts and the supposedly hot love interest—whose name was Flynn Rider, apparently, which he should have known if he just read the poster at the start of the movie like a normal viewer—was now trying to steal the crown jewels. 

Vernon was too busy thinking about how stupid ‘Flynn Rider’ was as a name to realise that another song had just started. Immediately you changed your tune, your tone lowering, almost sultry. 

This time, you looked at him when you started singing. 

“Look at you, as fragile as a flower…”

“Ayo?” A glance at the TV screen, where Mother Gothel was now singing. “Another song?”

But you did not answer his question, only singing further as you reached your hand out to him. “Still a little sapling, just a sprout!” You continued, and, at that, your hand patted his mess of curls atop his head, mirroring Mother Gothel’s actions. 

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

The overdramatic flair was present in your singing, changed from the sweetness of the previous song. It was crazy how you remembered each word, not slipping at any chorus—you were a true fan, a committed admirer of the film. Even he could not comprehend knowing every single line of his favourites. 

It was admirable indeed—to love a film as you did this one.

It was what made Vernon smile a little, turning away from your melodrama and focusing on the screen, where Mother Gothel now threatened to never be asked to leave the tower. Again.

This time, he would give the movie a chance. Thank God he decided to wake up.

The movie picked up the pace instantly—he had not expected Flynn to meet—and be whacked out by Rapunzel’s frying pan—so quickly, and had reflected her dejection when the mother screamed at her. He could tell where this was going, especially with the thief now in the closet, but he found himself grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl without turning away from the screen.

By the time the third song of the movie came around, he was taken aback that it arrived further in, surrounded by the thugs of the Snuggly Duckling. Without realising, he turned to you, anticipating you breaking out into a song, but you were merely watching the movie, bobbing your head along to the beat.

Noticing his stare, you glanced at him. “Expecting a show?”

“Since you were giving them out without request, I figured this time would be like any other.”

You snorted, grabbing the popcorn. “I’m saving my heavenly voice for the best song, actually.”

Vernon mocked a gasp. “So you’re telling me Mother Knows Best isn’t the best feature?”

“Don’t chat shit, Mr. Filmbro, because Mother Knows Best is one of the top five.”

“I look forward to seeing which song you’re holding out for,” he only said, turning back to the movie again. The popcorn ran out about this time, and you shot up from your bean bag, promising more as you exited the room, leaving him to continue. 

By the time you returned, the protagonists were escaping, chaos ensuing all around them with the guards, his partners and that eccentric white horse chasing them. Ending up in the cave, they recognise a lack of way out, and although Vernon was aware that the movie ends on the happiest note, a small part of him filled with dread. 

That dread disappeared instantly when Flynn confessed his little secret.

“Eugene Fitzherbert?!” The boy demanded.

You chuckled at his disdain. “Yeah, Flynn Rider was hotter. Eugene Fitzherbert ages him about forty years.”

“Flynn Rider was silly, but Eugene is straight up diabolical.” 

“He is still fuckable regardless!” you shushed him, raising your pointer at him. “You wish you had his sex appeal.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let me just change my name to Bartholomew Whiteman real quick.”

“Hey!” you whacked him on the arm, this time laughing heartily at his quip. “Let my man live!”

He decided to spare your fictional man any more bullying, taking in the town atmosphere where the two adventurers and Maximus had now ended up. “Ooooo, the castle dances are my favourite scenes!” you gushed, scooping popcorn in one hand and eating with the other. “Wait, look, look at the braid!”

“Jeez, I’m looking!” he insisted, watching the girls braid Rapunzel’s hair. Flynn—which Vernon is continuing to identify him as, because Eugene was too much for him—stared at her longingly at the results. Vernon used the popcorn as an excuse to gaze at you matching Flynn’s longing at the screen. Your head rested on your knees, locking your hands in front of them, forming a lazy smile. This smile remained throughout Rapunzel and Eugene’s activities, even to the point when the couple were settled in a boat, waiting for the lights. 

“It’s happening,” you declared, the smile widening as you released your legs from your hands. “Oh my God, it’s fucking happening!”

Raising the volume, the boy watched the screen, where thousands of lanterns were sparking alight at the king and queen’s signal. The lanterns’ lights broke across the borders of the town, melting into the sea, the docked ships. Rapunzel had not noticed though, too busy dropping flower heads upon the water’s surface, Flynn helpfully holding out the bunch. 

As the princess dropped another upon the waterbed, she finally noticed the beginning.

It was then Vernon heard your favourite Disney song.

“All those days, watching from the window…All those years, outside looking in…” 

You followed this time, not as loud as the other songs, quiet and soft, as if letting the blonde shine in her song. “All that time, never even knowing, just how blind I’ve been…”” 

You exhibited the same excitement as Rapunzel, who, noticing the lanterns, threw off Flynn’s balance, hanging onto the curling bow of the boat.

The boy, however, was not really focused on the screen.

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

“Now I’m here—” You put your hand to your chest— “Blinking in the starlight…now I’m here, suddenly I see…”

You kept singing the lyrics, voice more subdued than your last outbursts, and Vernon could only watch you, the pure love of this song radiating off your very pores. Vernon’s anticipation rose with every octave of the singer’s voice rising, eyes never leaving your face, the parted mouth. 

“Standing here, it’s oh! so clear…!”

As the viewers themselves were about to observe the thousands of lanterns Rapunzel witnessed, Vernon himself waiting, he made the mistake of averting his gaze from you, if only to see the grand reveal.

It was what made you unconsciously envelop your fingers with his, clasping his hand with yours.

He whipped his head to yours, eyes widening to the point of spilling. 

You were already looking at him. 

When you sang the next lyrics, Vernon could have melted molten.

“I’m where I’m meant to be!” 

And as the lanterns surrounded the protagonists, lighting up the entirety of the night, you sang the chorus to the boy in your little college flat, no one to witness it but two of you.

“And at last I see the light! And it’s like the fog has lifted!” 

Your voice was hoarse now, all the screech-singing catching up to you. Vernon, in another lifetime, would have instantly resisted, ran for the hills if it was literally anyone else in the room but you.

“And at last I see the light! And it’s like the sky…is new…” 

But it was you—you holding his hand tightly, you looking at him with the light of the lanterns in your eyes, you opening up to him in your little haven, away from anyone else. Granted, you could have offered this performance to anyone, but he liked to think—shit, he was truly hoping—that you would not have done this for anyone else. 

You would have only sang your favourite song to him. 

“And it’s warm, and real, and bright! And the world has somehow…shifted…”

Vernon watched you halt a moment, waiting for the next verse, your hand tightening in his. 

“All at once…everything looks different…”

You were right—the world had shifted underneath him, stilled under the dimmed lighting of this dingy living room. The two of you now faced each other, music still tuning from the TV, but the characters long forgotten, as if they never existed. Yes, you were right in that everything looked different, seemed different, as if he was seeing you for the very first time. 

“Now that I…see you.”

Shit. You were rather beautiful before him.

You paused then, watching his reaction. You tilted your head, thoroughly amused by the sheer awe that radiated from his face, but then you noticed his chest rise and fall, more unevenly the longer you observed him. 

The next detail you caught was how his eyes darted down—down to your lips.

It was the lips, which were watched so intently, that parted.

You attempted at a little humour. “Out of all my talents, I guess singing isn’t one of them.”

But Vernon did not respond with words. Sure, he would have agreed with you, but singing was irrelevant now. Out of all these infinite talents you possessed—your natural charm, your ease in making him laugh, your trespassing and eventual escaping of such crimes—Vernon could not have given less of a shit about singing. Not when you were before him, bathed in an unnatural, extraordinary light, soft music playing in the background. Almost as if he had adorned the rose-tinted glasses, courtesy of the universe.

In any romantic comedy, he would have kissed her.

The boy was not known to be courageous—anything but brave. Real Life, Not Clickbait Vernon would have left by now. The Real Vernon should have pussied out. 

You, however, looked a little too beautiful to be treated with cowardice. 

“Are you going to kiss me, Mr. Filmbro, or are you gonna make me wait till the end of the movie?”

He parted his mouth for a split second, gob-smacked at your question. The twinkle in your gaze, though, had him spluttering out a harsh chuckle, craning his head down at the sheer absurdity of it all. But then he looked up, smiling, not quite believing what he was about to do.

“I should make you wait.”

That was what he said. What Vernon instead did was finally grow the two balls that were supposed to be hidden in his pants, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. 

Now the boy always wondered whether the movies were right—when mouths would touch, move against each other, whether a fire would ignite between souls, whether one really felt as if they were not of this world.

It seemed like Hallmark-level bullshit to him, but the moment his lips touched yours, he began to float out of this room. A soft hum reverated from you, approval at his actions, and he could have burst as he felt you smile against him. 

Maybe Disney was right. God, he really did not want to be in such accord with that stupid corporation, but they were onto something with the fireworks, the orchestral singing when couples kiss. He himself felt a choir-like chant all around him as he brought his hand to your face, angling it slightly so he could gain better access, boost your pleasure as he delved slightly deeper.

He was unstoppable. He was alive and ecstatic and delirious, opening his mouth wider, his other hand now finding your waist, snuffing out any distance between you two. It was not like he was a pro in these situations—he had only ever had one serious girlfriend, and that was at an age where a boy could get away with merely ‘french-kissing’ (as the kids back then would have gloated) your significant other. Again, he may have fooled around a little in college, too, but never had he experienced this haze of lust, this newfound desire. 

This desire enhanced further when you slipped your tongue from the seams, sliding it along his as an invitation for more, and he could have honestly thanked that heinous hag Walt Disney for making movies you adored so much, to the point of showing him and landing him in this situation. Of course he indulged you, opening his mouth enough to let you inside. The sensation of your tongue slipping past his lips had a soft noise releasing from his throat. 

Tangled was all but forgotten, the two of you too occupied being entangled with each other. You pulled him even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against the ends of his hair. The soft touches had every strand of his locks standing on edge, a wave of delight washing over him. 

You were sagged into the bean bag, Vernon’s weight upon you sinking you further, but you did not mind it—relished it, his scent engulfing you, the sighs and soft murmurs of his every exhale haunting your eardrums. Who would have thought that a boy who could recite every Joker quote from The Dark Knight—Virgin Supremism you termed the talent—had this kind of game hidden underneath? How was he able to ignite such powerful emotions from you?

How was Vernon ‘Filmbro’ Chwe able to make you feel so good you did not realise Tangled finishing right before you?

The two of you could have spent all night intertwined in each other, perhaps would have gone past the boundaries of mere making out. However, between the haze of his soft whispers to you, your own mist swimming in your head, you heard the starting music of the DVD reverting to the home page, and like instinct you opened your eyes, finding that the movie had ended.

You must have paused, because Vernon immediately stopped, concern staining his pretty features. His knitted brow, eyes laced with nervousness, shamed you for ever stopping. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“Oh, no, no!” You felt like a fool for the answer you attempted to give him. “It’s just, um…”

He followed your line of sight, turning around. Once he realised, he looked back at you, you surprised to find a little shock replacing his concern. “We were going for that long?”

Your smirk had his stomach knotting. “This is what happens when you make out with someone you like, Mr. Filmbro.” 

He could not respond, looking away as his flushed face managed to redden some more. You only laughed at him, playing with the hem of his shirt, his arms still steady as they caged you. “You are so lucky, you know.”

He quirked a brow. “And why is that?” 

“I would never miss the second half of Tangled for a man.”

It was so incredibly stupid, how he felt a semblance of pride at the notion.“Happy to know I’m an exception.”

“You do know I’m gonna make you watch it again so you can say you’ve watched it.”

Vernon tilted his head to the side, lost in thought. You watched him, anticipating. “This is the part where you say you’d rather Mingyu jump you than rewatch Tangled.” 

“Well yes, but…” He glanced over his shoulder, where your shelf of DVDs were stacked, a particular movie which had caught his eye previously now standing out all the more. “I, uh…” 

He looked back at you, and the self-conscious glint in his gaze had you watching his every movement. “I was hoping to show you my favourite movie instead.”

You were ready to make a comment on how you prided on avoiding Nolan films like the plague, but then you remembered the conversation at Mingyu’s house. Your eyebrows could have touched your hairline. “You said I could never know.”

“Well…” a small smile escaped him, slowly pulling himself away. “If I am to be your exception, _____, then I suppose you can be mine.”

Gaping at him, you could only keep silent as he, with great effort on his part, heaved off you, making his way to the shelf. He was lucky, you thought—had he been a moment slower, that comment alone would have had you kissing him again. 

What quickly caught your attention was him sliding his pointer finger through your collection, a series of your favourites. The anticipation was rising, you not quite believing that Mr. Filmbro’s favourite film was within your arsenal. Weeks ago, you would have bullied him relentlessly for the ironic hypocrisy.

When he pulled out the fated DVD, you let out the greatest laugh.

The boy instantly frowned, but you did not realise, cackling and cackling away at the selection, the final boss of Vernon’s favourite film, nestled between his fingers. “Shut up,” he mumbled, but again, you did not hear him, lost in the shrill sound of your laughter, erupting the room to life. 

“Oh, Jesus—” Your chortling did not seem to stop, almost to the point of hiccups. “Your ass…this entire time—!”

“And suddenly I’m leaving!” Vernon announced, getting up and about to drop the DVD. 

He did not last long in his determination when you grabbed onto the end of his shirt, grinning still. “Thank God you’re not a Nolan kiss-ass…that’s all I’m saying.”

All he could do was stand like an idiot, the tips of your fingers caressing the skin just above his trousers. “But I am a Nolan kiss-ass,” he murmured, crossing his arms. 

“That’s what I thought, too, but this film—” you jerked your head towards the prize in his hand. “You’ve redeemed yourself.”

“Stop it,” he only said, crouching down to pull out the Tangled CD, replacing it with the new, and, in his opinion, improved movie. “This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“And nobody will know,” you assured him, watching the movie’s main menu pop up, the PLAY option highlighted. “This’ll be our secret.”

“First the trespassing,” Vernon began, sitting down beside you, “Then the tampering of movies, and now this.” He grabbed the remote, about to play the movie. “How much more are we gonna sneak around?”

You looked at him, and the smile you offered him had him glancing away—only for a second. “Have you not had fun, though? Sneaking around with me?”

Normally, in a situation where he had zero balls, he would have evaded such a question, not fanned the flames of your fire. But tonight he had watched a Disney movie with you, felt your fingers caressing his skin, had even kissed you in the purple hues of Tangled’s light. Tonight, he could conquer the world.

What would answering a heated question do any harm?

Vernon locked eyes with you then, trying to fight his smile. “I think I could have fun with you anywhere…in secret or for anyone to see.”

As something in your gaze shifted, he turned the film on (an entendre which was completely intentional). 

Once again, the two of you were in the same position, watching yet another film, this time another’s all time favourite. The narrator began in a strange, European accent, explaining the tale of an unfortunate princess, much like Rapunzel, and her dire situation. 

Although it was undoubtedly his most treasured film, the boy had a very hard time paying attention when all he could feel was that penetrating stare of yours, capable of revealing his very soul from beneath his measly shirt. Even when the stranger main character was introduced, following his main routine in his strangest abode, Vernon was not particularly concentrating anymore.

Not when he heard your voice, a soft question amongst the gaudy music of the 2000s. “Do you mean that, Vernon?”

And perhaps it was because you said his actual name, especially when your voice sounded like…like that. Like something from a perfect movie soundtrack, akin to the end-credits of an unforgettable TV show. 

Because he was too occupied with simply admiring you, he merely nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.

And because you were too busy admiring him, his words, the entire night where you had felt pure, euphoric joy, you did Mr. Filmbro a little dirty by making a decision that negated his film.

You shifted closer once more, hands reaching out to hold his face. 

This time, Vernon was prepared when you kissed him.

There was a certain eagerness in your lips this time which was newer—more enjoyable to his senses. It made sense now, why all these couples in movies made out for hours and hours on end. He felt as if he could kiss you forever, move against your mouth, delve inside until his tongue memorised your very imprint. 

You moaned a little louder this time, and the very sound had his heartbeat racing, moreso when, as he pressed you against him, shifting upon his beanbag, he knew then and there that something in the air shifted.

Last time, you had stopped. This time, there was no such indication—the very thought had him skirting his hands around you, holding you tight enough to never let go.

Still—even with such possibilities, there was no way you and him would escalate to the point of losing his virginity.

Whatever happens though, he will still watch the end of his favourite film. 

Whatever happens, Vernon would not be having sex with you if Shrek was playing in the background.

VERNON LOST HIS VIRGINITY WITH SHREK PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND.

Certainly not his greatest achievements, considering he could not focus on his favourite movie, but it was certainly not his fault. You were—to put it quite plainly—hot as fuck.

He did not leave until the very next day because—as he had stated that night—he still wanted you to watch Shrek, and did, somehow, end up watching it properly. You did not stop teasing him, and he did not stop shutting you up by kissing you senseless. 

Unfortunately, the boy did have college the next day, so he had to leave at some point, but not without promises of meeting you again. This time, however, you two did not continue the crimes he committed with you. You and Vernon were not modern-day Joker and Harley Quinn.

When the two of you were not terrorising Mingyu’s livelihood, you decided to hang out at the filmstore, where it all began. Vernon would host weekly movie nights, and both of you would eat popcorn and watch each other’s recommendations, scoring them differently in accordance to what was most important for each other.

For the film majoring student, the rating was influenced not only by the actors’ performances, but also from the intricate storyline, the character developments, their relationships. A story, for him at least, was about relationships. Good cinema was about the chemistry between two actors, the emotional connection they had not just with each other, but also their effect on the audience. The actual editing of the film, too, was another bullet point in his criteria.

Your rating, on the other hand, differed slightly. 

“Michelle Yeoh is such a MILF,” was your only comment upon finishing Everything Everywhere All at Once. 

This comment nearly made Vernon lose his mind. “One of the greatest movies of this decade, and this is your only input?”

“But am I wrong, though?”

Vernon sighed a little at that—at the end of the day, you were absolutely in the right. There was a reason Crazy Rich Asians went platinum in his dingy little room. 

Of course, it was not just his personal recommendations that played. You had compiled a list of your all-time favourites, going beyond Disney’s borders, and Vernon was introduced to the dashing timeless genre of the rom-com. Now having a younger sister who (he thought) was a basic bitch meant he did possess some knowledge of the genre, but he had never really sat down and watched a rom-com without falling asleep in Sofia’s bed. 

For you, though, he braved the most famous romances, which he found himself enjoying more than he would have liked—more so when he found one of his favoured actors in 10 Things I Hate About You.

“Heath Ledger singing was something I never thought I needed,” Vernon commented as the ferocious couple finally kissed. 

“And this is the same fella who was the Joker in your little Nolan film,” you reminded him, as if he was not aware already. “Oh, and he was the gay cowboy in that movie.”

“Gay cowboy?” His confusion lasted for approximately thirty seconds before he groaned, pushing you over on your beanbag. “My god, are you talking about Brokeback Mountain?”

“Yes, that one!” you exclaimed, picking up the TV remote. “My guy has range, but him as a high schooler is still my favourite role.”

“You do realise how bad that sounds, right?”

“You know what I mean,” you said, waving him off as you began searching for the next movie. “Now, Two Weeks’ Notice or The Proposal?”

Vernon endeavoured to weigh in on the options. “Which one do you think I’d like?”

“Well, both have Sandra Bullock in them…”

He looked over both DVDs. “Now that’s a white woman I can get behind.” 

You scooched a little over to him, locking your hands together. “We can watch something you like…” When he knitted his brows together, not quite answering you, you went on, almost unable to look him in the eye. “You’ve been super nice, you know…sitting through all my favourites.” 

The boy could not help it, unable to let a smirk slip. “Is this _____ appreciating me for once?” The beginnings of his shit-eating attitude did not develop, since your smack on his arm completely snuffed it out. “Ow, damn!”

“You deserved that,” you muttered, beginning to scoot away until Vernon’s hand on your wrist stopped you. 

When you focused your gaze at him, he already beat you to it. “Let’s watch both today.” 

It was silly, how that made your heart beat faster. “Really? You would watch two rom-coms in a row?”

As his hand pulled you closer, his stare had you almost—almost—nervous. “I’ve done worse for you.”

“Very true,” you said, absent-minded, more lost in the twinkle of his eyes. “Very, uh…good point.”

Vernon thanked all the higher bodies that may have existed for the pure, unadulterated rizz he was attempting to spew. “I’m full of good points,” he crowed. “Now, are you going to stare at me all night, or are we going to watch Sandra Bullock?”

Although your cheeks burned, you pushed him off, earning a chuckle from him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mr. Filmbro. The only man I’ll be staring at will be Ryan Reynolds in The Proposal.”

All of the boy’s suave attitude dissipated at his shock. “The Deadpool guy?!”

“Ryan Reynolds did have range before,” you explained, shaking your head. “Then the superhero bug bit him.”

“What a shame,” he only said, as if Vernon did not follow the Deadpool universe to the point of possessing special editioned comics in his room. Still, he happily slotted the CD inside the player, and excused himself to make more popcorn for the two of you.

As the boy prepared snacks, glancing back every time at the opening scene, he managed to sneak a look at you, eagerly watching the screen. 

He could only smile, putting all the popcorn in the huge bowl before hurrying back to you. 

THIS WAS PROBABLY THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT TO A CINEMA. PERHAPS THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT AT ALL.

Admittedly, it was not as if you had intended to go into the cinema in formal attire—or, at least the only formal clothing you had. Your first plan was to steal something from your father’s wardrobe, but when you tried it on, it did not fit properly, and you refused to look like an idiot in public.

Not that you cared much about looking like an idiot in public before, but there was another person to look out for. And that person, although had already done embarrassing enough actions for you, did not want to push it further. One more ceremonious act of humiliation, and Vernon would have run a thousand miles from you—or that was what you thought. 

You observed your cinema fit one last time before your bathroom mirror, fixing the lapels for the nth time. Your rented three-piece suit was almost a second skin, waistcoat snug underneath the tweed jacket, matching coloured trousers adorned alongside. You borrowed some Oxford brogues from a friend, which made you realise that you had more posh friends than you knew. You tried to find a hat similar to the one Cillian Murphy wore in the promotions, but because you did not have the wardrobe of a middle aged man, you resorted to let your head rest. 

All of this elaborate planning to see Nolan’s (apparently) greatest release yet—Oppenheimer. 

Because the cinema was not far away from you, you decided to walk, messaging your date to let him know that you were on your way. You were certain he was already there in the cinema; Vernon, since you had started hanging out more with him, had only ever talked about Nolan’s upcoming epic. You swore if you recited the IMDB plot out to him during sex, he would have spunked within minutes (a mental note to experiment on that later). His excitement had you booking midnight release tickets, which consequently made him so happy you thought you had invited Nolan to the town cinema. 

The night, furthering along, had beautified the black sky, stars twinkling on your journey. The consistent vibrations from your phone indicated the boy’s imminent excitement, and you smiled, double-checking your formal attire once more. You would have romanticised the nighttime further but living in student area brought you right back to fearing slightly for your life, so you quickened your step, cinema already a close speck in the distance. 

You knew you were nearer to the destination when the flocks of pink and black grew, the cowboy hats and fake pipes all piling up in your vision. Seeing the pink reminded you of Barbie’s influence, also being released tonight alongside the more serious counterpart. 

A small part of you really wanted to see the midnight release for the new movie. The original plan most people were following was either to watch Oppenheimer and then Barbie, or the other way around. You were so close to procuring tickets for the latter, but decided that it was important to accompany Vernon to the seemingly bigger release. After all, you were never as excited about films as the dear film major you had rather grown to like.

Another vibration of your phone, and you finally decided to stop ignoring said-film major and text him, possibly informing you of his arrival.

mr. filmbro: yo where u at

mr. filmbro: they’re too many pink mfs out here im getting suffocated

You rolled your eyes.

_____: im coming to save u kitten.

mr. filmbro: :0

Once you were inside, it was a complete sea of pink and black and grey. Two sides, which one would assume would be opposing, were all celebrating, sharing their drinks, anticipating when the theatre doors would open to let everyone in. Within this myriad of fans, you tried to search for the most mentally ill one—the one who you were certain had a finer three-piece set than you, who would have happily stolen Cillian Murphy’s set clothes to truly honour the movie. 

Strangely enough, after a few minutes, you could not find him, even after confirming your seats. You searched for anyone wearing anything devoid of colour, but did not find the boy. This time, you decided to bother him, calling him and pressing the phone to your ear. 

“Where are you, kitten?” you purposely growled, lowering your voice an octave. “Daddy’s waiting.”

“Kitten actually killed himself after hearing that,” was his purposeful monotone. 

“Can you resurrect yourself for me real quick? I’m tryna find where you are.” 

“I’m next to the Oppenheimer popup.” Immediately you tried to find it, scouring through the crowds. “I figured you’d find me easier.”

Scoffing, you ignored the Barbie stalls, walking further ahead. “How very smart of you to wear Oppenheimer clothing while standing next to it. So much easier to find you, isn’t it?”

He did not retort back, instead inciting your excitement. “Wait, I think I can see you…?”

Your eyes darted over to the fresh faces of the Nolan fans, all taking pictures of the cast pop-ups. What you were observing were the men and women, all lack of colour. 

What your gaze ended up on was someone completely different. 

What you were expecting was a mini-Oppenheimer, the too-large blazer, the sashed hat upon pretty brown curls. What you received instead was a boy engulfed in all the pinks of the colour wheel.

Pink was the colour of his top, bubblegum pink the colour of the stringy fur coat sporting over said shirt. Magenta was the colour of his flared trousers, whilst rose was the colour of his converse. What topped off the entire look was the hot pink cowboy hat, sitting perfectly upon his wavy locks, completing his fit—a fit which was perfect for the Barbie movie. 

It was around that point that he caught on to your stare—through the oceans of opposing fans, he, too, finally found you.

Vernon heard your curse murmur through the phone. “Oh my fucking God.”

That was when his own gaze roamed over you, shocked and shameless amongst the crowds. Not that the crowds mattered, not anymore. He was a little nervous, he had to admit it to himself, only because there were so many people, and they were only watching for the fad, for the trend. A part of him wanted just you and him in this midnight cinema, the biggest official date yet. 

But then seeing you here, in all your black-clad, Oppenheimered glory, had stunned him to his core. Although he had specifically brought you here to watch the movie, he had completely expected you to arrive in the pinkmania fit. Because you had kindly booked tickets for his anticipated film, he thought at least to participate in the Barbie craze fit.

It was like instinct, how his steps gravitated towards you, his phone still pressed against his ear, very much like you. You followed him slowly, hearing his ragged breaths through the speaker, watching him walk closer and closer until you both were a mere couple of feet away.

Only then did you drop the call, your hands at your sides as you admired him. It was a while before any of you spoke. 

Like always, you spoke first. “Tell me the fur coat is yours.”

A ghost of a smirk. “Sofia’s.”

“Stealing’s like second nature to you now, isn’t it?” you taunted. 

Like always, he dodged your taunts. “I thought you were gonna wear all pink.”

“I thought you were gonna wear all black.”

He tilted his head. “Well, I thought since we were watching both movies…”

Your confusion was clear, the corner of his lips curling further up. “Wasn’t Oppenheimer first?”

He then went inside his flared trouser pockets, fishing out two tickets—its colours matching his outfit. “I know how much you wanted to see Margot Robbie be silly.” 

“I did!” you exclaimed, taking the tickets from him, admiring how pretty they were designed, especially when compared to the Oppenheimer marketing tickets. In your admiration, though, you noticed a detail which had your excitement faltering. “Wait, are you sure? It says the movie’s at the same time.”

Vernon then checked the timings, mouth parting. “Oh shit. Didn’t think about that.” He shook his head, mouth straightening in a line, dejected. “This is what happens when I try to do something romantic.”

“I have to give points for effort,” you offered, bringing your hands to his wrist. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s watch Oppenheimer, honestly. Cillian Murphy is still hot when he’s old.”

“No, no,” he countered, clasping your hands on his wrist. “It’s chill.” He glanced down. “Let’s do Barbie first.”

You attempted to argue him on this, but he simply let go of your hands, with his one hand wrapping around your waist, and the other hand’s wrist being checked for the time. You bit back a smile at his mere actions, relishing his fingers skirting under the suit, the waistcoat. “Vernon,” you attempted. 

“_____,” he said back, staring at you with an awe that you would have deserved had you worn a couture gown, not some rented hand-me-downs. 

You knew he would not take no for an answer now. “But what about Oppenheimer?” you asked anyway as the two of you made your way to the cinema. 

Vernon only pretended to think extremely deeply of the situation, making you elbow him playfully. “Now tell me, Dear Disney Hag, how did we enter Mingyu’s house?”

“Why, we walked straight in!” you answered like an over-enthusiastic student, in which he sarcastically clapped for you. 

“Right on.” As you both walked towards the Barbie theatre, the opposing movie was being screened right beside you, where people were bursting in. “See how everyone is walking in right now?” He gave you a knowing glance. 

That knowing glance had you scoffing in excited disbelief. “My God! Look at you, all ready to commit crimes!” you looped a hand around his arm. “I have taught you well, young man.”

He patted your arm. “Mr. Filmbro has come a long way from chatting shit about your movie taste.”

“So you admit it?” you leaned in. “Disney makes better movies than your flop directors?”

“That’s a completely different claim,” he clarified. “My taste in films is objectively better.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact you're watching the Barbie movie before Oppenheimer.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging you closer. “That’s ‘cause I like you a lot, Disney Hag…”

You did not stop your smile from lighting up your entire face. “You’re not the most insufferable filmbro I’ve dated I guess…”

”I better be the last filmbro you date,” he muttered, watching over the last of the crowds, where they now stood, waiting to enter the theatre.

The longer you waited to answer him, the more incredulous his face became, brows knotted in disbelief. You only chuckled, leaning in and pressing your lips upon his. Of course, he was taken aback, but surprises like these were pleasant, welcomed with open arms as Vernon closed his eyes, pulling you in. 

The moment the line started quickening you broke away, only to make sure no one skipped in front of you and him, and thus deal with yours and his passive aggression. You could not help the giggle that escaped you at breaking away from his lips, relishing in his dazed state. 

Honestly—you truly would not have minded being anywhere with him.

When it was finally your turn to go inside the Barbie screening, you held tightly to his hand. “Let’s go, Mr. Filmbro.”

Vernon only smiled. “Right behind you, _____.”

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

[transmigratedlily]

Godhood

I have always been incredibly immersed in two things: science and religion. They could be seen as contradicting topics, don’t you think? If I’m ever distracted, it’s without a doubt because I’m deeply dwelling within one of those subjects. Just yesterday, I was reading a blog by @luvmanifesting, (edit; actually the blog was by @luckykiwiii101, L.M reblogged it, apologies.) and I was deeply intrigued when I came across this exact line:

"You are GOD, and if you don’t like that term, then you are the CREATOR."

This struck me deeply, even if i have read that exact line more than necessary. It made me realize that when people say, “I am God,” which I definitely am, it simply means just that; I am a god. Have you ever read any religious text, quote, verse, or anything related to religion? You have, right? Well then—what those religions worship, fawn over, and desire so powerfully is you: the god, the creator, the one who so effortlessly makes everything out of nothing.

So, the next time you read a blog with the same premise for the 900th time, please—take one good, lengthy (or short) blog and sit in silence. Read it slowly. Explain each sentence to yourself. Study the blog like you have an exam tomorrow that determines your entire grade in life. (READ. UNDERSTAND. APPLY! THE BIG R.U.A!)

What I mean here is, see your life as the exam which you haven't studied for, you read these blogs you read like a prayer-- but somehow don't believe a speck of what it says AS TRUTH. sweetness, Study for this exam well, So you can get the grade you desire. (sweetness, apply the information of said blogs, so you can get whatever you desire.)

This advice should send a chill down your spine—a strike of “Oh shit! I haven’t studied yet!” is desirable. Because, listen, imagine not studying for an important exam, one worth your entire grade. All your past mistakes, poorly done papers, and skipped classes would be disregarded—this is your only shot left.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I would study my whole soul away. Finally, a chance to prove myself and my intelligence! THAT is how you should read blogs. Let’s not worry anyone here, but in some ways, fear is a good booster for such things.

Reflect on how every moment of life is a chance to demonstrate your inner potential, treating it with the urgency and passion of a make-or-break exam

Because—this COULD be a possibility of a life you will absolutely loathe-- I do not wish such helplessness upon anyone or anything in any of my lives, but let’s all be real here: all your thoughts, even scenarios, are in some way affirmations. These things, if not handled with care and if believed with your whole heart, can either propel you toward immense success or cause you to fade away, like you were never even here. Please, this is your life, your mind, your soul. Don’t let it go to waste because of some measly doubt. You are made of pure stardust; your atoms were once the atoms of a magnificent and beast of a black hole. Who is anyone to tell you these things aren’t possible? You are God.

i'll tell you of a personal story, but it will be short; there was someone whom i cherished so much, sometimes it truly felt like my heart will give out on how much i loved this person, but something in the back of my mind always and consistently repeated that this person will physically or metaphorically leave my life, until one day my love passed away, my inner world (with my knowledge) had for whatever reason accepted this supposedly unharmful passing thought; being

they will leave me. everything always leaves me.

and repeated it until my love had passed on. and i vaguely remember in conversations I would talk to them like they were at a moments notice- gone.

but, through the power of realizing my OWN power, i managed to bring my love "back from the dead". anything and everything is possible, dwell on that.

Contemplate the profound realization of being both the dust of the cosmos and the orchestrator of its endless creation.

Could you ever imagine living out on the streets, so cold that the only music you hear is your teeth chattering? Why? All because you held onto a belief, a knowing that came from nowhere, like: “I’ll be unlucky forever,” or “Nothing goes my way,” or “What is this even good for?”

My sweet, tilt your head up and do what you were meant to do. If there’s anything I’ve learned from all my years of studying topics like these, it’s this:

You. Are. Meant. To. Do. This.

Do you ever stop and think about the sheer magnificence of existence? How, on one hand, you’re nothing more than dust—particles flung across the vast cosmos—yet, on the other hand, you’re everything? You’re the architect, the orchestrator, the creator of this endless unfolding we call life.

Imagine this: every star, every atom, every fleeting moment of beauty in the world—it’s all connected to you. (Quantum Entanglement) Not just in some abstract, distant sense, but in a very real, very profound way. The same energy that explodes in a supernova courses through you when you dream, when you create, when you dare to say, “This is who I am.” 

And isn’t it wild to think that the universe, infinite as it is, had the audacity to condense itself into you? Not just a fragment of the cosmos but the whole thing. You are stardust molded into thought, into feeling, into being. You are both the beginning and the continuation of creation itself.

But let’s not romanticize it to the point of disbelief. Sure, you might think, I’m just a person. And yes, you are. But aren’t the smallest things often the most potent? A spark can ignite a wildfire; a single cell can bloom into a life. You are the microcosm within the macrocosm, the god-self that takes the infinite chaos and breathes meaning into it.

When you look at your life—your struggles, your triumphs, your quiet moments of peace—can you see it? Can you see that you’re both the painter and the canvas, the seed and the tree, the question and the answer? This isn’t about ego; it’s about recognition. Recognition that you are both creation and creator, both the dust of the cosmos and the one who gives it purpose.

So, when the world feels overwhelming, when you feel small, remember this: you’re not just in the universe; the universe is in you. Every thought you think, every dream you dare to chase, is the cosmos expanding, creating, and becoming something it has never been before.

You. Are. It. The dust, the god, the creator of it all.

[bongkillua]

6 tucker and konami 8 konami aaaand 13 konami (today is the day of konamis)

thank god bc i need to work on konami lore more hehehe

6. How does your oc feel about labels? Theirs, or in general?

TUCKER: tucker cared more about labels in the past but has kind of given up on them by the time the wolfsbane narrative is over. he had to be really assertive of his identity when he was younger because he had to defend it a Lot and ur much more believable if you have a Solid Set Of Words u use to define urself. even now though he definitely asserts his masculinity a lot more than jord or xander do and is more picky about the terms you use to refer to him but it’s also like. he thought he was a gay man and then he caught feelings for xander who says a different gender every time you ask so he also recognizes that even the labels he does use are kinda up to interpretation lol. i feel like he still chooses to introduce himself as a gay man when asked even though that’s straight up not how he identifies he just doesn’t feel like explaining everything bc he’s had to defend himself for so long. and if you assume something else before he can explain the stranger-friendly version of himself he’s just going to shrug and go along with it. in terms of like general feelings on labels again he understands the importance of them but is also Definitely going to forget any intricacies you try to explain to him especially if ur a stranger. like he just cannot be bothered to care. like definitely a “just give me your pronouns because i’ll fucking forget everything else sorry.” kind of guy. if someone else tries to start shit though he Will defend the fuck out of someone using Whatever Damn Labels They Please even if he barely knows you.

KONAMI: ok i had to like literally think about konamis entire personality arc for this. so like right after death when he finally starts connecting with people again (tucker and xander), konami thinks labels are really cool even though he doesn’t know what any of them mean. i feel like he likes the idea of being able to explain himself with a Word because they have to relearn themself from the ground up. i think in terms of sexuality he probably re-finds and identifies with “bisexual” pretty quickly bc as much as konami struggles with emotions and how to deal with them he is Very in tune with his preferences especially in regard to people. gender is a whole other can of worms though. pre-death hes very sure of his gender but after dying he forgot his own identity and loses touch with all the stuff he connected with before. he probably spends a lot of time picking people apart about their labels to see if he can Relate To That Too! id imagine it leads to a lot of “i think that’s cool i want to be that too”/“i don’t care about that i would never identity that way.” and very little of it is truly Genuine. over time though as he learns more people’s experiences and understands his own more he starts to genuinely hold some labels close. think a lot of them are related to Concepts like “computer” and “electricity” bc once he realizes that his gender can be Things as opposed to these weird ideas of femininity and masculinity that he just cannot relate to he starts to understand the whole Gender Thing more. BOY though. Boy is his favorite word. that’s their One Gender Word that they relate to so much they don’t want anyone else to have it. He is the Only Boy.

8. Have they had struggles with their identity, be it due to internal or external reasons?

KONAMI: post-death, yeah, but not so much to do with queerness as just identity in general. sorry these answers are gonna be rly similar because it’s hard to explain one without the other. anyways their pre-death life doesn’t feel like theirs to the point where they can’t identify themself in old pictures and obviously that does a lot of weird things to your identity. but for the sake of sticking with queerness he wakes up as a ball of energy in the shape of a body which has been altered (konami got top surgery and was on t pre death and those changes stick upon death) but somehow it still feels… right? and on top of all of that he literally like Can’t grasp the concept of gender because he forgets everything and doesn’t have any frame of reference for like. what gender is. his only frame of reference is Himself which is already gender weird both in presentation and feeling. it’s a really unique experience to have because, like, his struggle doesn’t come from any sort of cishetnormativity being imposed onto him but rather the feeling of Loss from once having an identity and seeing the marks it left behind and no longer being able to understand what got him there. i think it makes him upset because he really Wants to know himself ESPECIALLY when he’s “reintroduced” to who he was before death but he just can’t make the connections. i don’t think he shows it at All though and just sorta avoids the question when it comes up or makes a joke out it/insincerely agrees or disagrees based on how he thinks he Should identify. being surrounded by trans people definitely makes his journey to finding his own identity more Genuine but also makes it a lot longer of a ride. sexuality is a whole different story though LOL as i said before he’s very sure of what he Likes and once someone is like “yeah the word for that is usually bisexual” he’s like cool so i’m DEEEFINITELY bisexual. no struggle there.

13. Would your oc be open to a poly relationship? Why or why not?

KONAMI: i answered this previously but no i think konami is a very monogamous guy. first of all he’s extremely territorial and doesn’t like sharing because he’s been denied connection for so long. this like. is Not the best thing for a relationship but by the time he’s actually to the point where he can connect to people in that way again he’s gotten over it a lot but probably still wouldn’t want to Share a Partner. he’s just very Devoted. even pre-death he was very similar he was a super devoted and loving partner. and a lot of the way that he connects with people is like. one on one experiences and communication and referential stuff so polyamory just wouldn’t make sense to him.

these answers are so damn rambly i’m sorry lol. i like talking about konami though he’s definitely the least fleshed out of the main four at this point. need to fix that.

[irresistiibles]

@mvsicinthedvrk​ submitted: this is about to be a long message but you know what? you are used to that from me in at least one thread of ours, so it is what it is!!!

thank you for your nice, too-nice words about my adminning. i wrote maig a whole essay about getting hired alksdj;lasdjf and i wont retype it for you, but i’m really happy to hear from your message that i set your mind at ease in terms of inviting someone new on the team. i set out really wanting to help do a good job, and i think it sounds like there are no outright performance complaints on your part re: my work here lmao, so i’m glad. your videos were LIFESAVERS, and i watched them so many times that for a while i heard your voice in my head anytime i did anything on the main. you seemed really comfortingly organized in terms of teaching me everything i needed to know. it was a lot, definitely, but i appreciated it. please know that i will literally never yell at anyone to get on the main, i physically do not have it in me to be able to do that, but if asks start piling up in the inbox you can all simply assume i am leaving it as a gift for someone else :’) lmfaoooooooo. but i do know that my work cleaning the inbox out regularly does NOT go un-appreciated, so thank you for making me feel like i am a useful member of the team.

and to compliment YOU, you’re always so good at dealing with ooc issues (which i really had no idea happened until i joined the team lmao) but you are so good at working things through and having a plan, and you’re so inventive in terms of events, like i cannot WAIT for the upcoming event that is based on your entirely unhinged doc. who could even come up with all of that other than you?? i’m really obsessed with everything you come up with.

and then in other admin group nonsense, too, you’re SO funny. every time i get to play jackbox with you all i have such a blast, and you specifically always have the best commentary. i really do think you need to start a podcast or something because the world should be forced to witness and appreciate your wit and humor. also related to jackpost i love how hard you are to beat at murder trivia, lmao. you have also made me see so many terrifying and/or cursed posts and links in the discord, many of which i will unfortunately never be able to cleanse from my memory, but i have such a good time in the chats in general regardless of that. really truly, thank you for letting me join you all, i really look forward to every week knowing that i’m going to have a good time talking to you and that i’ll get to help contribute a small part of helping make this rp run, because hidden really is such a special place. i know i’ve only been here for three years of the insane hidden five, but at the same time, i’m like-- wow, i’ve been here over half the time now, and i really can’t imagine my daily life without being part of this in some way. i wish you (and us???) success for the upcoming years!!

if you thought i was done writing this message, you would be wrong. now moving into WRITING positivity-- there’s so much i could say to you about getting to write with you, but our beefleaf threads. your shi qingxuan. they are my everything. i cannot think of a rush of endorphins and anxiety stronger than when i get a beefleaf reply from you: endorphins because i am so hype to read the next installment of their story and anxiety because i KNOW its going to hit me right in the gut, lmfao. and writing for those threads have challenged me in such interesting ways because of the many layers of complexity and having to figure out how to express what i want to say in a way that makes sense for he xuan; i’m so grateful to you that the beefleaf threads have helped let me explore that emotional depth in the narration. (if someone told me i’d be happy to sit working on one reply for four hours and get no other replies done that day idk if i’d believe them, but that’s what beefleaf makes me do sometimes) and seeing the end result is so so satisfying once i push through the distress, haha. so thank you for that, and i’m forever hoping that one day they will resolve the conflict (for their sakes, and ours!! rip). and then obviously i appreciate our other threads as well-- gu zi is such a delight. i’m obsessed with your fixation on qinghua; reading his replies are the pinnacle of entertainment for me to read, especially your threads with kasey between qinghua and qingqiu, please, they take me out. victor and yuri are such a reliably fun set of characters to throw together. and i still LOVE your nie huaisang headcanons! i think i owe you an unaware starter for him and wei wuxian, so that’ll happen at some point this week if i can get my shit together.

anyway i AM going to force myself to shut up now before this starts getting ridiculous if it’s not already. thank you for everything this year, and i’m really pleased that i can solidly look forward to another of the same laughter and emotional distress and chaos and compassion. i’m deeply lucky that i can call you my friend. much love, sincerely, ollie.

the fact you sent me so much i’m going to have to long post tw this ollie!! should be a crime!! when i can afford lawyers you will be hearing from them for emotional damages!! also would not reccomend calling me funny it is the type of compliment i will hold onto forever ahhhhhhhh but truly you are incredible. i am so so glad we’ve been able to meet and be friends going to sky beam all my love to you

[infernalrevenge]

Hello, hello! I was wondering if I could possibly request your take on Reader and each of the Dimitrescu Daughters with how they show affection? Nuzzles, kisses, hugs/snuggles, terms of endearment, gifts, nsfw, etc. One big fluff-ball. Just bury me in the warm fuzzy. Thank you!

This is excellent timing, anon friendo because I had been thinking of making a Love Languages Headcanon List for some time now, so this is a great way to start on that! I hope this satisfies your mushy fluffy warm fuzzball desires (that I kept relatively PG) :P

------------

Bela Dimitrescu

Bela felt that she had a reputation to uphold as the eldest daughter of the Dimitrescu family, ever so meticulous yet also eager to please. But she does know her boundaries.

More often than not, she finds herself busy with her mother in helping run the business, hoping to one day become a proper heir. I mention all this so you know her situation -- she's a working gal and you gotta respect that.

However, she is not one to leave her loved ones hanging. The best way she shows her love is by spending quality time with you, doing things that you might enjoy. It gives her a chance to better get to know her love.

Of course she would have her way as well, doing activities she liked such as art, music, and more. You two might even try something new to the both of you, just for some added thrill.

It doesn't always have to be "something" to do though, she's more than happy to just simply be in the same space as you while you do your own thing. That counts as "doing something together", right?

You could be reading a book on one corner of the room and she could be reviewing some important notes on the bed, but you two are just so comfortable in the quiet space you've made for yourselves that it feels like you two are side-by-side.

She just likes to know you're there, your presence alone is a great source of comfort to her. She loves to see you happy and content, especially knowing it's because she's around. Once you get into it, there is no such thing as an awkward silence between the two of you.

I imagine she's not that big on initiating physical affection, but she would be hard pressed to deny you anything. From something as simple as holding her hand, to spooning and cuddling, to a full-on make out session -- all you have to do is ask. She's more than happy to deliver.

Her favorite position is being the big spoon in bed, finding a lot of comfort in knowing that you are in her grasp, safe and sound. She also enjoys planting a few kisses on your shoulder and neck in an attempt to rouse you from slumber.

While she was still courting you (because I like to imagine she's a bit of an old-fashioned romantic, but she would have courted you regardless of your gender), she would often bring you gifts. They weren't extravagant, but they were definitely meaningful, and often related to things you two had talked about in the past.

She didn't use pet names very often but she will call you "love" on occasion, especially if there was a chance you would call her that in return. She may not openly admit it but she just melts every time you call her that -- made it feel like having a crush on you all over again.

Even though she may seem distant on the outside, Bela is truly a woman who makes the most of her time with people she cares about. You are no exception to that, and she wants that to be known to you as much and as often as possible.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Cassandra, much like her older sister, believes she too has a reputation to uphold within the family. Can't have her be seen going soft for just anyone.

But uh, plot twist: Girl just wants to be loved, and she doesn't even know it.

In private, she really really loves physical affection. She shows her love by clinging onto you as tightly as possible, melding so closely to you that it becomes hard to tell where her body ended and yours began.

She loves pressing her cheek and ear against your chest to hear the calming beat of your heart, the warmth of your skin just under her fingertips, and her head tucked right under your chin while you two lay in bed together.

Truthfully, she started doing this when you first got together because she enjoyed how flustered you seemed when she basically had herself wrapped around you. But over time, the both of you realized just how much she liked being this close to you too. You teased her for it once and she shut you out of your own room for a while. (She only let you back in because she suddenly missed cuddling you.)

This was a trait that kind of carried over from her hunting instincts, but she was very observant of others -- their tics, habits, routines, and all the like. She took notice of a lot of things other people did, didn't do, and couldn't do. It made her very attentive to her loved ones.

This manifested in the form of performing acts of service. Toward you, it ranged from simple things like keeping objects that were usually out of your reach to a more manageable height (either by her own action or an order to a servant) to helping you relax after a long and tiring day, to even performing your chores for you if she knew you were having a hard time with them.

Anything that she could help with to make herself useful, she would do. She wanted her loved ones to move around comfortably and without much worry, and she would take on that burden if that was what it took.

Granted it didn't necessarily mean she did well in these endeavors, but the effort did not go unnoticed. And you would never see the girl try to half-ass anything -- once she started on a task, you bet your sweet ass she was going to get it done too.

Her terms of "endearment" were very teasing and, out of context, could be downright insulting. You would never hear anything so generic as "baby" or "sweetie" (unless she was being condescending.) "Little shit" (affectionate) was more her speed.

If you also called her nicknames with a similar amount of creativity, she would return it with the same enthusiasm. She didn't take those things to heart anyway. If insults were a love language, this would be one of hers.

Cassandra is a little rough around the edges when it comes to love and intimacy, but she loves so fiercely. It's like a fire, raging on the more you feed its maw -- the only difference is that this fire would never die out.

Daniela Dimitrescu

Daniela is the most affectionate and most likely to be a hopeless romantic in the family. She always daydreamed of having a "knight in shining armor" of her own, but honestly she'll take anyone who would love her for herself.

Definitely the type to show off her wonderful significant other, either "subtly" through a bit of PDA, or more overtly through a lot of PDA and more grand gestures of love. Just let her do this, she has so much love to give and she needs that energy to go somewhere.

Even in private spaces, she would never let go of your hand if she had her way. Trying to separate from her when she wasn't in the mood would get you the "kicked puppy dog" treatment from her. It's not her fault you were so warm and nice to be around.

She loves being the little spoon in bed. There's just something reassuring about having a warm presence right behind her, your arms wrapped around her middle. You could even kick a leg on top of her waist -- all she wants is to get as close to you as she possibly can.

When you're working on a desk and sitting on a chair, she will inevitably sit on your lap and snuggle up against you while you try to do whatever it is you're doing. No matter how many times she promises that "you won't even know she's there", it's kind of hard to ignore the way she just buries her face into your neck and the little snores coming out of her if she falls asleep like this.

Calls you very cheesy and almost strange pet names like "honey pie" and "sweetie baby boo". You're never sure if she actually meant them or was messing with you because of her tone, but you can tell she was always amused by your reaction to them, which was part of the reason she kept saying them.

She did also have an inner poet though, so she may suddenly pull lines like "the moon to my night" that would make you stumble and wonder what had possessed your girlfriend. And then you would remember how much she enjoyed reading romance novels, so it made more sense.

Sometimes she'll pull them out early in the morning right as you two were just waking up, limbs entangled with the other's. Then you'd hear her call you "light of my life" in her deep sleepy voice, and you just have to hide the big goofy smile on your face behind a pillow or something.

She also loves to give you gifts, mostly because she liked how your face would light up whenever you received one. Oftentimes, they are little trinkets that remind her of you that she spotted one day and thought to give to you. Kind of like a cat presenting a dead mouse or bird to its owner, but not as gross.

She says "I love you" and any similar declarations pretty often, but the words never lose their meaning. Just know that she always says them with her whole heart, regardless of the tone she takes on when she does.

She also enjoys doing random acts of affection because she likes seeing how you react to them, whether you get all blushy and a little embarrassed, or you return them in kind. Either way, she is very happy and it gives her the warm fuzzies when you play along.

Like I said, Daniela just has so much love to give, and she would be so happy to see that energy enthusiastically returned. Just give her a chance and you'll never have to doubt her feelings for you.

[dearclem]

it was nice to have clem back in his life to talk about these things. of course, montez couldn’t and wouldn’t ever attempt to hide things from lunara, but talking about these things with someone whom he looked up to, someone whom he’d say was family, even though they’re not related by blood, it was nice. one always listened to the other and he has always been grateful for her. as usual, the moment they’ve talked about lunara, a blush creeps up on his cheeks. “thanks, i...i am not giving up on trying to remember things. even though...you know, people have always reassured me that it was okay if i don’t. that...we can always create new ones, but still, i can’t help it, you know?” he sighs, glancing down to the ground for a moment. “but yeah, jake’s doing fine, and he’s taking it easy. i’ll tell him you said that when we come over, which is probably tomorrow. since lu and i promised to check up on him at least once a day.” montez then sits on the armrest of the couch whilst he listened to clem talk about what has been going on with her as of late. it seems like he didn’t miss a podcast of hers, going through his spotify, and he has listened to them again, as he was in recovery in the hospital. he understood as to why clem never made an attempt to visit him while he was there, but they would call as she checked up on how he was doing. “i listen to those--well, i had to repeat the episodes from ever since someone accidentally pressed on the undo button in my brain.” he jokes, shaking his head to himself. “but i’m so proud of you, clem. really. i knew something will come from the crazy skits you used to do when we were young--though you still do it nowadays.” his eyebrow raises at her talking about getting attached to another human being. “do i know this human being? or at least used to?” he couldn’t help but ask. “but hey...you know, you can always talk to me about anything, right? that hasn’t changed clem. regardless of everything else.”

❝  of course not!  ❞ she replies. she doesn’t know what it’s like to be in his shoes, of course, but she imagines she’d feel the same way he does.  ❝  i think it’s only natural to want to remember, especially when kronos forces you to time travel without your consent.  ❞  she doesn’t believe he’ll do things to harm himself for the sake of remembering, so she doesn’t bother voicing it. plus, given how well he knows her, she doesn’t feel the need to  (  and he’s likely heard it from others  ).  ❝  and thank you in advance.. for passing along the message. i’m sure everyone else has already said the same thing, but if anyone needs anything, i can promise to make myself available.  ❞  she grows proud, and a little embarrassed, upon hearing he’s an avid listener and she retorts with her own joke,  ❝  would it be rude---maybe even a little conceited---of me if i suggest seeing the whole getting to listen to my podcasts like it was your first time again as a silver lining to your time travel?  ❞ ❝  and don’t mention my skits.. but i’ve gotten pretty good at accents, huh?  ❞ she hasn’t. even watching pronunciation tutorials hasn’t helped her, but clem’s not a quitter. at least, not with the stuff she should be. she shrugs at his next question, but doesn’t provide more of an answer, instead choosing to focus on the next part.  ❝  i know i can,  ❞ she states softly,  ❝  and i appreciate it. truly, but it’s kinda one of those things where talking about it makes it real and i’m---i’m not sure if i’m ready to make it real, you know? because real is scary.  ❞  after she takes a breath, she continues,  ❝  but we just seem to click and it’s so easy, monty. easy.  ❞  the thought brings an automatic smile and it makes her hide her face before she giggles. once she’s been able to rein in her expression, her hands drop,  ❝  it doesn’t feel like a one-sided sort of deal, either. like, with malachi, it was like i was..  ❞ her words trail as she attempts to find an analogy that would paint an accurate picture,  ❝  oh, i don’t know, like i was a puzzle piece trying to fit inside another box, but now it kinda feels like i found my box, but i worry it’s just wishful thinking and i’ll soon find out that i wasn’t good enough to be in this box either.  ❞  her gaze moves to monty,  ❝  i hope that makes sense, but if i’m ever ready to make it real, i’ll be sure to share with you.  ❞  a beat,  ❝  anyway, enough about all that! tell me more about you and lu.. where do you stand now, if you don’t mind my asking?  ❞

[himitsu-luna]

Headcanon

𔓘⭑ ࣪˖ Nct 127 as boyfriends ˖ ࣪⭑𔓘

։ຼ⚘ Taeil

~ Key words: healing hugs, comfort, easy love

Taeil is the type of boyfriend that you feel like you know for a much longer time than you actually do, just because everything feels so natural and comfortable with him. To him, relationships are meant to be easy, fun, light, safe, unproblematic, so he works with you to achieve this scenario. He feels like home and he makes loving and being loved look simple. He loves the intimacy of domestic dates, they give him the sense of bonding and growing closer. Cooking, watching movies, just lazing around, sharing secrets and also laughs while wrapped around a cozy blanket are some of his favorite things to do with you. But he also loves being adventurous, going wild once in a while, looking for interesting things to do with you deep at night. He is the type of boyfriend that shyly approaches you to give you a tight hug he was craving the whole day; that sings for you whenever you ask him to do so; that does silly things just to see you laughing; that passionately researches how to cook something just because you mentioned you wanted to eat it; that gives you his hoodies because he thinks you're the cutest with them; that hypes you up like no one else does.

։ຼ⚘ Johnny

~ Key words: joyful smiles, romance, mature love

Do you know that perfect image of a boyfriend we build in our heads and fantasize about? That's Johnny. He might look all cool and detached, but he is the warmest and most caring person you could ever meet. When he gets into a relationship, he takes it very seriously. He does his best to be the best version of himself. He is patient, easy going, mature, and loves to have long conversations with you when you go to your weekly coffee date. He is the type of boyfriend that surprises you with romantic acts out of blue and acts like he did nothing; that carries you to bed when you're too tired; that remembers little and big things about you; that picks you up wherever you are and gets out of the car just to open the door for you; that rushes to buy you medicine when you're sick and that falls asleep beside your bed. He also has his mischivious side, which makes your dynamics even more interesting. He is the boyfriend that carries you on his shoulders at a concert; that hides behind a door to jump and scare you; that tickles you until you can't laugh anymore. He is the type of boyfriend that treats you like royalty and also like his best friend.

։ຼ⚘ Taeyong

~ Key words: day dreaming gazes, companionship, reassuring love

Taeyong as a boyfriend feels like a partner for life. You can't help but catching yourself imagining a whole married life with him, but little you know he is doing the exact same thing. He is the type of boyfriend that genuinely does his best to get involved in your life and to be part of it. He asks you about your day, about your dreams, about your plans, and listens to you attentively. Communicating with him is not a problem. Actually, he is usually the first one to send you a message, or to give you a call. Also, the amount of support you receive from him is enourmous, since he admires and believes in you unconditionaly. It's natural for him to say "we" instead of "I", because he considers you in every step he takes. He is the type of boyfriend that crafts little things for you; that makes you that cute lunch boxes with even cuter post-its on them; that has a notebook filled with lyrics he wrote about you; that smiles fondly everytime he hears your name; that don't fail one day on sending you a gooodnight message; that pulls you to dance in the middle of the kitchen.

։ຼ⚘ Yuta

~ Key words: undivided attention, loyalty, intense love

Yuta is someone who won't ever leave room for doubts or insecurities regarding the love he feels for you, regarding your relationship. He can't get tired of telling and showing you how important you are to him. He gives you a lot of attention and takes good care of you. It's impossible for him to be indifferent when you're around, he is too into you, he has eyes just for you. He expresses his emotions clearly and makes his moods obvious, so the relationship is super transparent. The excitement of the relationship seems to never cease. He is naturally original and interesting, and he doesn't even need to try hard to get you hooked. Yuta's love is intoxicating, inebriating. He is the type of boyfriend that does your nails, your hair and your make up, but says that you look amazing without all of it; that gives you his jacket and also embraces you to make sure you're not cold, even though he is freezing; that turns off his phone when you're spending time together; that jokingly (or not) acts protective towards you; that doodles hearts on your arm; that winks at you from afar.

։ຼ⚘ Doyoung

~ Key words: meaningful acts, care, one and only love

Doyoung's hobby is taking care of you. And yes, it's his hobby, because he doesn't see it as an obligation or a duty. He truly likes pampering you and making your life easier. He openly admits that you are his weakness, his soft spot, the only one who can make him lose his senses and not think straight. He either is all lovey-dovey or the nagging type of lover around you. He is invested, respectful, nurturing, solid, stable, constant, and won't let anyone talk bad about you. He is the type of boyfriend that keeps little things related to you, like notes you left him or a cute sticker you glued on his arm while joking around; that gives you the last piece of french fries he got; that drops everything and travels miles and miles to meet you because you said you were lonely; that unconciously does little things for you, like putting tooth paste onto your tooth brush and handing it to you; that always carries two umbrelas because he knows you often forget yours at home; that keep staring at you in awe, but denies it strongly when you catch him doing so.

։ຼ⚘ Jaehyun

~ Key words: intertwined fingers, sincerity, movie like love

Jaehyun is the type of boyfriend full of surprises. He makes you wonder what is going through his head, because it's quite difficult to read him. But he knows what he feels. As you get to know him better, you learn that he is the sweetest bean. For example, you get to know that when he looks distant or distracted around you, he is actually trying his best to hide from you some random cute romantic surprise he prepared. Even though he is not that good at expressing his emotions, he tries to put his love into words from time to time, and you just can feel it through the tender looks he gives you. He is chill and down to earth with most of things, but he daydreams a lot about you. He is also an interesting person with interesting thoughts, and sometimes you feel like your in a romantic comedy movie. He is the type of boyfriend that says "you're amazing" out of nowhere; that back hugs you whenever he sees the opportunity to do so; that gives you the best massages ever; that wants to hear stories from your childhood; that looks forward to your reaction when he tells you a joke or a story; that brags about you to his friends; that secretly takes personality tests and looks into astrology to see how compatible you two are: if he gets a positive answer, he goes "I knew it!", and if he gets a negative answer, he goes "I don't believe this anyways".

։ຼ⚘ Winwin

~ Key words: soft caresses, growing together, special love

Once Winwin falls in love, he wishes it's forever. He is always amazed by you and by how you changed his whole world and his whole vision of people, of the world, and of himself. He has a huge sense of honor and commitment towards you, so he does his best to be a good boyfriend. He does that quietly though, with little meaningful acts and shy words. He is usually pretty calm and composed, but sometimes he becomes a cute soft mess around you. When this happens, his reactions ranges from "malfunctioning and not knowing what to do at all" to "showing off his skills so you'll be impressed". He is the type of boyfriend that goes shopping to buy something for himself and ends up with twenty items for you ; that steals a kiss on your cheek while you're asleep; that says he is going to read your palm just to have an excuse to hold your hands; that, after twenty minutes watching a movie with you, side by side, murmurs "come here" and extends his arm so you can hug and cuddle him, all of that while avoiding eye contact (but at the end he is all smiley)

։ຼ⚘ Jungwoo

~ Key words: endless cuddles, connection, colorful love

Jungwoo is the type of boyfriend who just feels right. You look at him and wonder how you could end up with someone that matches your vibes so well. He accepts you and loves you exactly the way you are, for the way you are. He is not only sweeter than candy, he is also the funniest, the cutest, the most supportive, the most lovely, the most unique and interesting boyfriend ever. He feels intensily what you're feeling, so he can understand you well. He cries when you cry, he laughs when you laugh, he is by your side because he wants to be. He is the type of boyfriend that stays awake with you all night long when you need to finish an assignment so he can help you and so you won't feel lonely; that creates a whole new special sign language to communicate with you ; that fights for food with you just to give you everything at the end; that goes live on instagram just to scream "y/n, I love you" and then disconnects; that can't stop talking about you to everyone; that uses your picture as his cellphone background.

։ຼ⚘ Mark

~ Key words: sweet kisses, happiness, pure love

Mark is someone who wants to give you the whole world, and he works hard to do so. He is very intuitive and can tell what you're thinking with just one look. Being with him feels easy, recharging, and you see sincerity in all of his acts and words. There's no drama, no second intentions, he just genuinely wants to see you happy. He is the type of boyfriend that prays for you every night before sleeping; that may be clueless about a lot of things, but notices when you have the slightest change in your appearance; that takes melted candies out of his pockets and says they are a gift to you with the brightest and most innocent smile on his face; that creates raps about your awesomeness at random times; that gets too tired of giggling while cuddling you and then sleeps in your arms; that get inspired by some cheesy movie to do cheesy things with you but gets all shy about it afterwards, which makes everything even more adorable; that helps you drying your hair and gives you little pecks while the towel covers your eyes.

։ຼ⚘ Haechan

~ Key words: heart fluttering words, sharing, playful love

Haechan is someone who makes you feel special. He knows every single detail about you, and it seems that he understands you more than you do yourself, because he always knows what to say to make you feel better. He is affectionate, flirty, enjoys to make you blush, but often he is the one who blushes like crazy. He values the deep bond you share, and is proud of himself to have you by his side. He is the type of boyfriend that diligently prepares a midnight snack for you and draws a big heart with ketchup on your plate; that asks you what you are going to wear on your date with him, so he can wear something similar; that has a bracelet with your initial on it; that does skincare with you; that calls you at raining nights and stays with you on the phone for hours to distract you from the thunders you hate so much; that runs to you when he sees you; that plays rock paper scissors with you to decide who will get you two food, but actually it doesn't matter who wins, he will do everything for you at the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•° thanks @arieseris333 for the request! 💕

•° taglist - @starrdustville @mairah-shaikh @mairahshaikh @cupidluvstarrz @kpopsnowball @kaepopsicle @purplepsycho03 @najatheangel @dundun-baby

* If you want to be added to or removed from the taglist, just send me an ask or a message (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

•° Masterlist

...

[neptune-midheaven]

ASTRO NOTES 🪐 🧿✨🌌

*THERE !!!!!! IS !!!!!! NO !!!!!! BAD !!!!!!!PLACEMENT !!!!!!! IN !!!!!!! ASTROLOGY !!!!!!!PLEASE STOP FEAR-MONGERING THESE POOR NEWCOMERS PLEASEEE !!!!!!!! CHALLENGING never equals BAD !!!!!! If you’re a true student of astrology this would be a well know FACT to you.

*Saturn and Capricorn placements are the areas you will slowlyyy become wise in, having developed compete mastery over that area with TIME.

*You usually get compared with other people who share your rising sign.

*Most scorpios/scorpio risings have dark complexions, they even could have almost a permanent shadow cast over their faces, they may struggle to find perfect lighting.

*Virgo in 6th house are hypochondriacs and are paranoid/worry a lot about their health. They’re very nit-picky about their “symptoms”, they’re the types of people to know what they’re coming down with when they’re already at a doctor appt., they may as well even EDUCATE THE DAMN DOCTOR LIKE GO AHEAD MRS PHDD.

*Chiron conjunct midheaven is the ultimate healer placement, other chiron placements, chiron in first/aspecting the ascendant, following behind, these people are true healers whether they realize it or not, they’re born to assist and heal the general public. The midheaven, the highest point of the sky representing our reputation and career, what we’re known for. These people generate a reputation for their “healing abilities”, they’re quite literally known as the wounded healer (depending on if Chiron is positively aspected in the chart, this will affect the flavor of their reputation), they will experience pain related to work or matters related to the reputation, their status and authority could be wounded, they can later use their pain to help and heal others. Challenges will be met at work if Chiron is afflicted. This placement also means one will have their pain and wounds projected to the public, the whole world knows your pain.

*Mars in twelfth need to express their energy, their anger and will through the activities of whatever sign mars is located in the chart i.e. mars in aries in the twelfth need to express suppressed anger/anger through physical activity, sports, working out, sex, pisces mars by unleashing their massive creativity, compassion, dreams (this sign, and house combo especially, has many dreams, it’s a sleepy placement for the ideal fiery and straightforward mars to be located in). Mars in twelfth is generally a good placement that could manifest in someone being a dancer or athlete, mainly finding escape through any type of physical activity for fire signs, work for earth, socializing for air and creativity for water. This placement has very gentle, enchanting watery movements if they get into any sports or physical activity.

*Mars in eleventh can be aggressive toward their friends esp if mars is in a fire sign it becomes no joke. Don’t get me wrong, they’re the best humanitarians and what not but they have a reputation of being the “angry” or “aggressive” friend out of most of their friend groups, they’re very competitive and energetic people. However the way they stick up causes, they way they are always seen supporting any humanitarian cause with their whole hearts is AMAZINGG. They’re the types of activists to stay late to a protest, they’re the types to seemingly never leave what they’re standing up for, what they’re supporting because they are SOOO AMBITIOUS AND YEAHH !!

*This isn’t talked about a lot but uranus in eleventh have to be the most comforting and “welcoming” presence out of every eleventh house placement in astrology, with uranus in its home, the house of aquarius, it erases any filter put on what friend is attracted by their social presence as EVERYONE is attracted to them, from any possible and imaginable background or culture and homeland, anyone can trust and confide in their wide openness as their care and concern for society is completely genuine. They are truly the biggest and truest humanitarians, the universal humanitarian that will lead us to the monumental revolution of history and bring humanity to a collective whole.

*Pisces moon, people lovee you. People want to come up and talk with you just because of how interesting and intriguing you are. You OOZE this aura of compelling mystery similarly to scorpio moon. Your innocent playfulness is undeniably charming and you are definitely the life of the party, people want to pay attention to you!!

*Saturn in 11th, you are not an outcast, you are not too strange. You’re fine for just who you are, your individuality is a struggle for you, saturn is restricting you from liberating yourself and merging with society, you can selective or strict with friendships. You teach others to have boundaries and to never trust others too easily, you select social causes with caution. There is never anything wrong with this !! You choose what you support for YOU and NO ONE ELSE. You choose who you wanna become friends with it’s because they have passed the true rigorous test of friendship. When you become friends with someone, you already know you can trust them deeply, your caution is quite admirable !!

*Mercury in 12th is an extremely beautiful placement. The native grows shy of their flawless minds, little do they know they are connecting with the watery depths of the astral and psychic realms of the twelfth, the vagueness of their cloudy thoughts winds them up in wispy sheets of intellectual confusion. Your mind is communicating the brilliant and unbelievable parts of what seems like a dream. You are not too confusing or vague for others to understand your ideas, people await what emerges from this shiny and imaginable abyss of a sleepy mind.

*Mercury in 8th have an intellectual superiority complex of sorts, they analyze a piece of information or thing by tearing through the surface until they find the deepest depths of the truth, they believe this will never compare to other placements as they have dug far deeper into something. Be careful to not assume that someone doesn’t know something you don’t, while it still can’t be true. You always want to know someone, don’t be too controlling about it because you could cause conflicts which you didn’t mean to in the first place. If you know your boundaries and limits and of others’, then you should be fine. This placement is brilliant for investigators, someone who could examine, analyze and evaluate to find the answer others can’t see. They harbor a psychic mind, a plutonic one who knows the weight words can have on people. Fantastically persuasive speakers !!

*Gemini in 3rd, gem mercury have unstable minds, they’re very much prone to babbling, but can easily start up a conversation because they never run out things to say so they’re pretty social and friendly.

*Capricorn moon is an amazing moon sign placement, here the moon is in detriment as the saturn ruled cappy doesn’t get along with the soft, nurturing moon, it’s always gotta work work work, limit, restrict !! There’s never anything wrong with the moon here, just because the moon and saturn can’t get along, just because they contradict each other’s completely different functions never means it’s a terrible moon sign. It just manifests in a completely unique way outside of the traditional service and role of the moon, similarly to let’s say sag mercury as it’s also in detriment, they both manifest creatively to make something new out of the planet’s sign. Back to cappy moon, this moon has the capacity to work as they find fulfillment in getting things done, serving others, but negatively restriction and criticizing. With saturn ruling capricorn here your emotions and wellbeing become restricted and limited, you have felt as if no one understands you, you believe something is wrong with you. Like no one in the world supports you emotionally. But this is NEVERRR true, people love you for how caring, attentive and even funny you are !! You care soo much about others you forget to care for yourself, SOME of you even begin to think it’s normal to ignore what your own needs, nooo you need to STOP THISSS . You deserve to feel great about what you do, your accomplishments, how you care for others, EVERYTHING, and most importantly believe, trulyy believe that nothing’s ever wrong with you !! You’re unbelievably charismatic and overall just.... WONDERFULLL. Ily guys smm you’re amazingly stronggg souls !!!

*Moon in 12th house is an EXTREMELY sensitive placement, these people are little babies on the inside (ilyy guyss you all have my heartt <33). They often felt neglected, not nurtured as a kid which creates their extreme sensitivity to their current surroundings and environment. Their shy moon is always hiding behind the mystical and otherworldly curtains of the 12th because of their sensitive upbringing or personality, it’s takes some time for the little guy to come out. The moon here needs SPACCEEEE. A person who’s a walking sponge with fragile emotions, they’re our emotional and energetic vacuum cleaners of the world, they are helping the world without ever realizing it !!

*Pisces risings are known for being hard to characterize for their ability to naturally adapt to their environment. You can tell if someone has this if they absorb their environment like a sponge, then, react to this energy, you can easily see this energy morphing. It becomes noticeable if there’s a lot going on. Another clue is having trouble defining them based on their first impression, like they could be anything you project onto them, very mysterious and dreamy individuals when you meet them.

*Your midheaven/10th house is what you look up to be or what traits you wish to embody, ex: aries MC, confidence, passion, courageousness, being a leader, etc. Moon in 10th, being a therapist, helping the less fortunate, medical professions.

*Libra risings usually have amazing skin, just like virgo risings, to contrast, I’ve seen most of them marked with freckles. They have very symmetrical features, perfectly balanced just like a scale. But it appears as if they’re “superficial” once their faces begin to wear into your mind.