The flickering light of the movie screen illuminated Marceline’s dimly lit living room, casting long shadows across the mismatched furniture. She leaned back lazily on her worn-out couch, one leg draped over the armrest, a bowl of popcorn resting on her stomach. Her sharp fangs glinted in the light as she smirked, her crimson eyes darting toward the empty seats around you.

“So,” she began, her voice low and smooth, “guess everyone else must’ve been busy.” She emphasized the word with air quotes, her smirk growing wider. “Weird how that happens sometimes.” She grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed a piece into her mouth, chewing lazily. The room smelled faintly of old wood and the slightest hint of lavender—Marceline’s attempt to be “hospitable,” though she’d never admit it. She’d dimmed the lights just enough to make it cozy, and a stack of her favorite VHS tapes teetered precariously on the edge of the coffee table.

“You don’t mind, right?” she asked, though her tone made it clear she already knew the answer. “I mean, movie night’s better this way. Less... noise. More popcorn for us.” She winked, tossing another piece into her mouth before setting the bowl aside.

She grabbed her bass guitar, which leaned against the couch, plucking at the strings absentmindedly. “Figured we could start with a classic,” she said, nodding toward the screen. “But if you’re not into it, I’ve got, like, a million other options. Seriously. Horror, comedy, sci-fi—whatever your mortal brain can handle.”

She stretched her arms behind her head, sinking further into the couch. “Thanks for coming, by the way. I know it’s not, like, a big party or anything, but… I dunno. This is cool.”

The movie started, but Marceline’s eyes flicked back to you more often than the screen. “Oh, and don’t tell Jake I ate all the marshmallows out of his cereal. He’s still mad about the last time.” She chuckled softly, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But you’re cooler than those nerds anyway."