#just criminally inconsistent lol

[jewishcissiekj]

randomly thinking about how insane the New 52 was. DC just went "nah. nvm." on most of their mythos. just re-launched an entire universe. decades of comics. which is so inconceivable until you remember they already did that once 25-6 years earlier

[turian]

i love achievements as a feature on steam because it's so fun to be able to see what percentage of players of (for example) new vegas, did a thing. and then speculate on why. and compare to the percentage of players who did another ideologically dissimilar thing. and it also lets me know that not many people bothered with busking in bg3.

[thewonandonly]

BE MY MISTAKE

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : ghostface!lee jeno (nct) x afab!reader

GENRE : horror/thriller(?), fluff, smut, angst (hurtfic)

SYNOPSIS : "happy halloween! time to play one giant insensitive prank on you like the popular movie franchise "stab!" lol it'll be funny dw"

WC : 12,670 words

WARNINGS : heavily based on the scream franchise. established relationship, strong language, jeno = billy and reader = sydney essentially, jeno and reader have sexy time with the mask on, oral (f. receiving), p-in-v sex, cunnilingus, dirty talk, um premeditation 😀, no happy ending. guys this is literally about a (fictional) murderer. there is a chasing scene. think scary movie 1 in the theater but more, like, serious.

AUTHOR'S NOTE : happy october :3 when you really think about it, isn't halloween time everyday? here's something i actually worked on bc im insane. also, there's a bit of an inconsistency with the writing; i said jeno already got tickets but obvi theyre seeing it at the theater party. i was already 3/4 of the way done writing it when i remembered so pls just ignore it plsplspls i beg. as always, please let me know if i forgot any warnings <3

DISCLAIMER : the characters in this story are to be allusions to real people, and none of the situations, personalities, and actions found here should reflect reality. i do not believe in any of the problematic actions displayed and mentioned. this story was created with zero intention to violate the images of the artists.

It was October, which meant another "Stab!" movie was going to be released within due time, which also meant, everyone was going to harp on about the events that happened last year; that happen every year. The "Stab!" movies that got rereleased in theaters every year for a week were really... not all that good, in your (unprofessional) opinion. They were poorly made "based-on-a-true-story" movies that influenced a worldwide prank across the world that caused a lot of actual real world deaths and trauma. But, your boyfriend, a film student, thought it was one of the best movies ever made! You remember you both started dating around this time almost three years ago and seeing the rerelease of the 1997 slasher film was quite unexpected. You didn't even know it existed until that time, when Jeno, your boyfriend, excitedly asked you out on that first date to see it.

You could remember your boyfriend shoveling buckets and tubs of popcorn into his mouth as you could barely stomach the thought of Sidney Prescott being harassed for years, decades. Your own judgement was being questioned that night and you ignored it.

Sitting at your laptop in the library, you let out a deep and long sigh as you stared at the blank word document. Given it was October and you were a criminal history student, it was only natural that you were given the assignment on criminal offenses that happened during the Halloween season. And of course, the first thing that popped up into your head was the Woodsboro Murders, after all the rewatches over the last year. The tabs open on your computer about the crime significantly slowed down your laptop that you were willing to opt for the books that rested on the library shelves.

And if it wasn't the cherry on top of your already obnoxious day, your computer crashed. Meaning, browsing the aisles for any information about your subject and writing the information down the classic "pen-to-paper" way was the only way you were going to get your work done, which was probably a blessing in disguise, considering you knew how easily you could get distracted.

You dropped your head to your hands, letting out a sigh before you lifted your head, your laptop slamming shut.

"I wanna play a game." Your boyfriend spoke in a sinister voice as he looked at you, holding a Billy the Puppet mask from the Saw films over his face, before he pulled it down to smile at you.

You sighed again, packing up the laptop, "Not funny." You grumbled.

Jeno laughed, turning his wrist to look at the mask, "What? Who doesn't love Billy the Puppet?"

You glanced at Jeno through your lashes and zipped up the bag you had, before walking over to the Windows Vista desktop your university refused to update and searched up your keyword: "Woodsboro." And you hoped your boyfriend wouldn't peek over your shoulder and-

"Woodsboro?" He perked up and looked at your face, "Are you studying about it?" He began to overload you with questions; "Why are you studying it?" or "How far are you along?" or "Can I help you with whatever you're studying this for?"

You couldn't blame him, you really couldn't. He was like a puppy who just found a stick in the yard. You knew that if you even slightly mentioned "Stab!" or the murders, you'd have to deal with your boyfriend bouncing off the walls. You were surprised he never decided to join your criminal history class, purely based on the fact he was the most knowledgeable person about the subject that you knew.

You looked at the top three recommended books, and erased the search from the results, wandering down to the section of the library. Jeno followed close behind. "It's for my criminal history class." Was all you said.

"I can help you!" He chuckled.

You stopped right at the final section pulling out the book titled "The Woodboro Murders" by Gale Weathers. It was a best seller, apparently, if the bright red font at the top of the book wasn't enough to tell you that. You held it in your arm before you pulled the second book out and placed in on top of the other. "Jeno, I know you're excited to help but it's history. This isn't some trashy movie about slashers."

Jeno winced as you criticized his favorite movie, holding his hand to his chest, "Come on, baby, you know I know better than anyone about this stuff." He smiled, "I can help you. I don't know just the trashy horror movie stuff. I know the psychology and the science behind it."

You attempted to walk away, but Jeno quickly pulled you back to smile at you, the Billy the Puppet mask still lingering in his hand.

Jeno was always handsome, and he knew it too. If there wasn't multiple times he was able to win you over with just his looks, you'd be lying. So, when he looks at you with his soft smile, and his soft eyes, you begin to fall all over again. You take in his features; the mole that sits under his right eye, his nose, how beautiful his eyes looked.

Fuck, you swore to yourself, here we go again. "Fine, you can help me." You almost grumbled. Almost. "But, I'm not using the movie as a source." You pointed at him, "Everything we include has to be in any of these books or reliable sources on the internet."

Jeno held his hands up once more, chuckling, "I got it. I got it. Consider the existence of Stab completely erased from my mind from this moment forward."

"Good." You continued down the middle of the book shelves, grabbing another book, your boyfriend following close behind, his hands brushing against the spine of the books.

Jeno perked up, "Hey, we've got a few days before our anniversary. I was thinking we could go see that rerelease on the day of."

You glanced at him once more, "I really need to keep a counter of how often you mention that movie."

As much as you hated the movie, and it's effects after the release, it was like you were reliving your first date with him. Last year, you guys went to the same theater, ordered the same snacks — a large popcorn with extra butter, gummy candy and one large soda you both shared — and you both were lucky to get the same exact seats as your first date. And you hoped that you could relive that day over and over again.

You glanced at Jeno, tilting your head to the side, "You already have the tickets, huh?" You asked.

"Yup." Jeno rummaged through his pockets and pulled out the tickets to show you, throwing his arm over your shoulder, "Same auditorium; same seats."

You smiled to yourself. Sure, he could tick you off mentioning "Stab!" ten to twelve times a day, but... you loved him. He was your boyfriend. And the attention to detail he always had was admirable.

You pecked his cheek, making his smile grow even wider, feeling your chest tighten as you admired his features silently once again, holding the books in your arm as you ran your fingers through his hair.

He was annoying, but he was also sweet. And he was all your own.

After a long and grueling study session, cramped hands, and an overwhelming amount of information that you weren't even aware of, it was now officially 8pm, and the university library was closing for the night, the librarian grabbing the books off your desk to add to the cart of growing stock. Despite Jeno's promise, he continued to cross reference "Stab!" while he read pieces from Gale Weathers' book. You swore, you couldn't get through a paragraph before your boyfriend said, "I remember that in the movie."

The sheet of paper that held your precious grade was zipped up into your bag, kept nice and neat in between your laptop and your textbook. Jeno held your hand as he walked you through the dark sidewalk down the University Road, where your shared apartment was located. Jeno and you have lived together since the second semester started in the last week of August.

The co-ed dorm you two lived in was fairly small — one floor and only 17 dorm rooms. It also happened to be the first place you met Jeno. Jeno originally stayed in the dorm room across from your own, which is the current one you both stayed in now. You remember him peeking out of his dorm room door with nothing on but a pair of grey sweatpants, shouting something at his friends as they ran down the hallway. You later found out they were his dorm mates — Mark and Donghyuck. When you stepped into the room, the striking contrast between the two sides of the room was nauseating. Jeno had action figures, replicas and movie posters decorating his side; something every movie buff held proud. Your side was almost empty. You barely had any decorations on the wall and the only decorated area was your desk. It wasn't much, but it was home, at least for now.

When the door to the room opened, you let out a sigh, kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag on the couch, you fell onto your tiny dorm bed. "Finally, nap time." You mumble.

Jeno set his own items down and sighed, "You should relax for now and then we'll pick up where we left off."

You had a routine of coming home from either work or school; kick off shoes, set stuff down, nap. It was the same every single day. Jeno had a very opposite routine. He always kept his slippers on, he neatly placed his items beside his desk and then he sat down, and watched a movie off his scratch away chart of the one hundred highest rated movies of all time.

Yet, today, he seemed to be in a different mood. He hung up the Billy the Puppet mask next to the plethora of other horror movie icons, before his hand brushed along his prized possession, the killer from the Woodsboro murders. It was a little odd that his favorite mask would be one from actual real life cases, but you know it wasn't because of that. It was because of "Stab!" but, you know if you try to explain that to someone, they'd just give you a dirty look and silently judge you, or more rather, your boyfriend. Maybe a little bit of you, as well, for trying so hard to defend your boyfriend.

Grabbing the mask of the infamous double killers, Jeno pulled it over his head, looking at you through the mesh eyeholes, crawling his way across the impromptu king bed, leaning close over your shoulder as you laid on your stomach. The smooth pvc plastic and the polyester fiber brushed against your skin, and you turned your head to look at him. "What do you think you're doing?" You asked with a bite.

Jeno shrugged, "I don't know. Aren't girls into this type of stuff?" He whispered through the mask, slowly lifting it over his head to look at you, "I thought girls were into the, like, masked guys and shit."

You scoffed, laying on your hand, "Some girls. And I don't think it's actual killers they're into."

Jeno shrugged, pulling the mask down once more, running his hands against your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing against your shoulder blades, "I don't know. I've seen some people into some pretty messed up guys."

You rolled your eyes again, "Some people are into that stuff." You shrugged, turning your head to the side as he ran his hands over your skin, "Fuck, I don't know, Jen. I hardly even know if I like my school major."

"Fine, fine." He scoffed, "But you don't even wanna try it with the mask on once?"

You rolled your eyes, "Take the mask off, Jeno."

Jeno sighed, pulling the mask off before tossing it to his side of the makeshift bed, "You don't even wanna spice up our sex life a little bit?"

You rolled over so you were on your back, his legs straddling your hips in some type of sick power play. He looks amazing up there, you thought. Your fingers traced the curve of his thighs, "I think our sex life is perfectly fine, if you ask me." You shrugged playfully, "Maybe some other time?"

Jeno groaned, "You're ruining this marriage." He responded sarcastically, "It's someone else, isn't it?" He crossed his arms.

"Yes, oh, my god, I completely forgot I was having sex with your manager from the theater." You gasped.

"With Jaehyun?" Jeon gasped, "I don't blame you. How'd you pull him?" Much to your dismay, he climbed off from on top of you, laying his head on your shoulder as you both laid down.

You shrugged, "You know, same way I pulled you."

Jeno rolled his eyes, "Okay, quit it. I'm actually starting to think you're fucking Jaehyun." He grumbled, "Speaking of Jaehyun, the Halloween Party. Are we going or what?"

"Yeah, sure. We have nothing else going on." You sighed, "I'd much rather go to a Halloween party at the theater than here at one of the sororities or frats." You rolled onto your side so you were facing Jeno, smiling sweetly.

"Sounds like a plan to me." He gave a dorky smile, "We could probably even skip the date night and just go to the party."

"You don't wanna see the movie?" You mumbled, "Wait, let me guess..." You cleared your throat, putting on your best "Jeno" voice, "They're actually showing Stab for the party, oh my god!"

"I don't sound like that."

"Um, actually, you do." You teased, nudging his shoulder. "Did I get it right?"

Jeno chuckled, shrugging, "It's the theatre's most popular re-releases. So, for them to close down early just so we can watch the movie for a party is pretty amazing." He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, "Plus, Halloween is our anniversary. It can be a two-in-one celebration."

"I guess you're right." You mumbled, "Pretty amazing." You repeated, fighting back a yawn, "I'm sleepy." You whispered as you curled up close to Jeno, smiling to yourself as you feel him cup the back of your knee to bring your leg over his hip.

His fingers brushed against the skin of your cheek, laying his head on top of yours, something he normally did when you'd nap so you had complete darkness, "Go to sleep, babe. I'll be here when you wake up." He whispered in your ear, barely above a whisper.

Your heart fluttered at his soft voice, feeling yourself already starting to drift to sleep, relishing in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin, his other hand pinned against the bed as it was wrapped around your back and placed on your hip. While you pinned his arm down to keep him from moving, he had your head pinned down with his own. It was your preferred cuddling position; your own pretzel twist.

You woke up hours after you had fell asleep to a loud clatter from the window behind you. Jeno was no where to be seen, and you immediately tensed up at the sound. Laying perfectly still as if you were still sleeping, you didn't dare attempt to put your life on the line.

Oh, god, you thought, is this really happening right now? Your mind began to race with a million different thoughts, "I don't wanna end up on Cold Case Files," and "I don't want to go out this way."

"Shit." You heard in a familiar voice, turning around to see your boyfriend climbing in through the window.

You sat up straight, "Jeno?" You called out through your gravely and sleepy voice, squinting your eyes as your boyfriend shined the flashlight from his phone in your eyes, your hand shooting up to block the light from your eyes, "What are you doing?"

Jeno pointed to the door, "Locked myself out." He grumbled, stumbling as he finished climbing through the window, quickly bending down as a metal jingling echoed between the two of you.

You just glanced as Jeno quickly shoved the keys into his sweater pocket, too tired to care, "Hm..." You hummed as you laid back, "If you went out with Mark and Jaemin, I don't mind." You sighed.

Jeno chuckled as he made his way around the room to set down his items, "Heh, you caught me." He rubbed his neck, climbing into the bed beside you once more, "I snuck out an hour and a half ago to go out and eat."

You could tell he was just as tired as you were a few hours ago, but he was forcing himself awake, "What'd you guys eat?"

"Meat." Jeno shrugged, "Nothing exciting. You know those two." He buried his face further into the pillow, his eyes closing, "Did you sleep well, baby?"

You nodded, "Yeah." It's all you said, reaching your hand up to brush some of his hair from his eyes, your thumb brushing against his cheek, "As much as I'd love to stay here and cuddle, I should get that paper done."

Jeno hummed, peeking an eye open, "Did you want any help?"

Your heart warmed at the question; not because he asked, because he was willing to help you even though he was tired, "No," You whispered softly as you took into consideration his restlessness, shaking your head, "No, baby. Just rest. I can handle it." You placed a chaste kiss to his neck, slowly sitting up. You grabbed a plush blanket to wrap around your shoulders, making your way to your desk as you pushed yourself off the bed.

This was normally how you and Jeno both functioned; one was awake at the crack of dawn and asleep by 9pm, the other was asleep until noon and up until 3 in the morning. It's a miracle that the two of you found a way to be with one another.

Sitting at your desk, pulling out your Holy Grail of a assignment and set it neatly on the top, opening your laptop to look at the screen as you slowly booted it up. Seemed to be running fine, so you decided it should be okay to use, even if you had to keep it plugged in. The previous document saved just how you left it — empty and barren. You didn't even have a sentence on the screen.

Maybe technology wasn't the right move for schoolwork, you thought to yourself as you compared the two forms of documentation. The sheet of paper was a little more than halfway filled, and although the pen ink smudged from your hand swiping across the paper, it still looked pretty damn good. Compared to the digital sister, the paper seemed like the one who had everything all together.

You decided to pick up where you left off on the sheet of paper, using your laptop for music and the pdf of the books you used earlier open on each tab.

You looked up from the paper, squinting your eyes as you looked at the laptop screen, highlighting the words with the cursor.

"That's interesting." You titled your head to the side, reading the line of text in your head.

"Sydney Prescott was unaware at the moment, but she noticed when the killer attacked, her boyfriend, Billy Loomis, and his best friend, Stuart "Stu" Macher were no where to be seen."

The line made you uncomfortable, shifting in your seat at the thought, clearing your throat as you read the line over and over again. Gale Weathers then goes on to describe how significant it is that Sydney Prescott should've realized, but then again, you sympathized with Sydney. After all, she loved Billy.

God forbid Jeno did something like that, you'd probably have to be thrown into an asylum.

You decided procrastination was the best option for the evening, using the pen as a paperweight and closed the laptop screen. You stood up from the desk and sighed, scooting over to the bed before laying down beside the sleeping Jeno.

Despite your previous nap, you laid your head down on the pillow and felt yourself falling asleep.

That evening, you thought about Jeno and your upcoming date night/Halloween party. You opened your eyes through the night, glancing over to check on your boyfriend, going as far to adjust the blanket over his shoulder and brush hair from his eyes to just make sure it wasn't an illusion.

God, you just wished he wasn't a maniac like Billy Loomis.

Despite your best efforts to go to bed at an early time, you tossed and turned, you shivered, your legs grew restless. And then the sun peeked in through your window, and you only glared. 7 in the morning and you were awake even before your boyfriend. Your eyes burned from the lack of sleep and you couldn't help yourself but to curse the sun as it extended across the skyline. You sat up slowly from the bed, looking wistfully out the window of your dorm room, the blanket covering your legs.

The thoughts you had in the back of your mind from a few hours before still lingered in your head, because it's entirely possible for something like that to happen. It's entirely possible for a significant other to go off the bend and be a crazed murderer. And it's entirely possible that it can be the person you share a bed with.

You sighed softly as you pushed the thought away and stood from the bed, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You trudged along to the bathroom inside your dorm room, shutting the door behind you as you looked into the mirror. The eyebags were a dark grey, your eyes blood shot and your eyelids hung low. You looked like death to put it simply, and you felt it.

Turning on the sink and grabbing your toothbrush, you squeezed a glob of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and began to brush your teeth. Although, you were sure you weren't really brushing as you felt your eyes struggle to open every time you blinked, your grip on the brush weakening every time your eyes weighed closed.

The bathroom door opened and Jeno stepped inside, placing a kiss on the side of your head, "Morning, baby." He whispered, grabbing his own toothbrush, "Stayed up all night again?"

You looked at him through the mirror, shaking your head before rinsing out your mouth, "No." You mumbled, clearly half asleep, "I was, like, half asleep, half awake the whole night."

Jeno chuckled, brushing his teeth, "You get anything else done on the paper?"

"Yeah, I got a lot done." You nodded, setting the toothbrush back in the drawer you kept it in, stepping off to the side, "There was a lot I learned."

"It's interesting, right?" He spit out a glob of toothpaste, scraping his tongue before starting to brush his teeth once more, leaning on his hand against the bathroom counter.

"Yeah. I didn't know it was that complex..." You mumbled, "Do you have work today?"

Jeno rinsed out his mouth, sighing, "Yeah, baby, I do." He placed his toothbrush next to yours, looking at you with a faux pout, "Unfortunately."

You nodded, pressing a small kiss to his lips, "Well, I'll be here when you get off." You grabbed his hands, squeezing them, "You should probably get ready to go."

Jeno chuckled, kissing your lips again, "You want me to go that badly?" He teased, "You inviting Jaehyun over or something?"

You laughed, "No. Just don't want you to be late."

Jeno's hands rested on your hips, smiling, "Don't worry about that." He kissed you again, lifting you in his arms to sit you on the bathroom counter, his hands brushing against your thighs, "I have plenty of time."

You pulled away from the kiss, smiling, "Do you though? You still have to shower, get dressed, and put gas in the car. Or were you just gonna make me pay for it again?" You teased, climbing off the counter, "Take your shower." You stepped out the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

Jeno wasn't always the most punctual, which can be frustrating to you and to his co-workers. You wouldn't necessarily blame him, but you would blame his distractions. He has a lot on his plate; school, work, your relationship. He still needed to purchase a camera for his film class. He tries to act like it doesn't bother him, but you know on nights where he stays up a little later than usual, he's dwelling on it.

You sat down at your desk, trying to distract yourself from the exhaustion you felt by watching youtube videos your professor recommended and switching between that and writing your paper. Jeno stepped out from the bathroom and you felt the heat from the shower push into the room, and you smelt his conditioner in the air as he quickly got dressed for work.

"I'll be back later, baby." He pressed a kiss to your cheek, "Don't wait up, alright? Take a nap or something." He ran his fingers through your hair, and you turned to look at him.

"I hope you have a good day at work." You kissed his lips, smiling softly as he turned to walk out the door, "Why do you have that mask with you?"

Jeno paused, turning to look at his bag, "Chenle doesn't think it's an actual replica, so he said he wants to check it out on our break." He sighed, pushing his hair back with his hand, "I'll see you later baby." He smiled, stepping out the door and closed it behind him.

"Okay." You whispered, listening as his keys made a metallic sound down the hallway and the hydraulic door hinge squeaking as it closed shut.

Ever since last night, you actually sat down and read Gale Weathers' book, collecting the information from her eyes. Sure, she had a pretty shallow standpoint from it; This wasn't her trauma to write about. But, it was still pretty interesting as she pieced things together.

You were at least 5 chapters in, hunched over your laptop as you read, anxiously nibbling on your nails as Gale describes the beginning of the stressful months that were ready to approach them. Until, your phone rings. Of course it rings. First time you've actually read a book instead of skimmed the pages in months. You unlocked your phone, answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N, it's Jaehyun." You could hear the popcorn machine popping behind him, "Jeno's manager from the cinema."

You chuckled, "I know who you are." You smiled to yourself, wondering if Jaehyun even knew the running joke that you and your boyfriend had; prevailing him as a God, "What's up, Jaehyun?"

"Well, Jeno's running a bit late. It's nearly been an hour and I haven't gotten a call or a text or anything from him." Jaehyun's voice shrunk, "Is he there?"

"No, no, he left a while ago. I thought he was heading to work." You put Jaehyun on speaker phone, immediately clicking the Find My app, scrolling to find Jeno, "I'm looking at his location right now and it says no location found." You mumbled.

"Alright, well, I'll try to give him a call or two. You should try, too. He might have had something happen to the car." Jaehyun spoke, "Just let me know. You have my number, right?"

"Yeah, I do." You mumbled, "I'll call him right now and let you know what's up." You quickly hung up and called your boyfriend.

Okay, he had awful sense of time and he wasn't punctual in the slightest but he's never been this late to work, especially when it helps him pay his bills and pay for that new camera he needed. You pressed the phone to your ear before it immediately was sent to voicemail with the automated voice telling you what you already knew: The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time.

Seriously? You scratched the back of your head, setting your laptop to the side as you leaned against your elbows. There was one way to find him, something that he never left the dorm without.

You opened the Find My app once more, and scrolled to his AirPods. Or more rather, your AirPods that he's borrowed more than you used after you got them. If he opened them recently, you would've been able to find where exactly he was. So you did just that.

But, much to your dismay, he hasn't opened them since the night before, his location still reading as the restaurant he went to last night with Mark and Jaemin.

You called Jaehyun back, "He didn't answer the phone and I tried to see if I could see where he was from the AirPods he used, but no use."

Jaehyun sighed, "Alright, thank you, Y/N." He mumbled, "I hope he'll be able to get off the hook for this. He better have a damn good excuse."

"I hope he does." You whispered, "Sorry I wasn't much help, Jaehyun."

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. You did more work than I did." He gave a small "goodbye" and hung up the phone.

You really hoped he had an explanation for what's going on. You weren't the type of person to immediately jump to conclusions, saying that he cheated. You don't think he's stupid enough to pull something like that.

You sighed, laying your head down on the desk as you drowned in your thoughts, feeling the exhaustion take over your body as laid there.

There it was again. A clatter from the window being forcefully pulled up. You immediately perked up, the drowsiness from the nap you don't remember taking stuck to your body. Your back hurt from being hunched over the desk where you napped.

You leaned back in your chair to peek over at the window, ignoring your back begging for a little bit of leisure after you slept like a ball for the past 4 hours. It was a little after 11 o'clock, 18 minutes before it turned noon.

Standing from your desk, you approached the window and looked out the glass, shocked to find nothing, or no one. Just the dying bushes planted by the school's agricultural center, and some fucked up tanbark that kept the moisture in the dirt.

"Hey, baby."

You jumped, turning to find your boyfriend standing behind you with his prized possession covering his face. "Jesus christ, Jen." You swore, pushing at his shoulder, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Got sent home." He shrugged, lifting the mask from his face with a smile, "The car ended up breaking down, my phone died and I had to walk 4 miles down the road to get there.” He dropped his bag on the footboard bench at the end of the bed frame, setting the mask on top of it.

"Jen, you really gotta start going to work in time." You sighed, "What if you get fired?"

"Come on, baby, it's just a part-time job." He chuckled, pulling you closer to him, "I can find something else."

"Fuck, Jen, do you know how bad that'll look if they call the theater and they have to tell them you're unreliable for calling out or for showing up late?" You ranted, letting go of his hands, "You know I can't afford to pay for this dorm by myself, let alone my school payments."

"Jeez, babe, relax." He chuckled, "Come on, why don't you take some of that aggression out another way?"

"Jeno," You sighed.

"Y/N," He responded, "When's the last time you and I had nasty, angry sex, huh?" He chuckled, grabbing your hands again, "I miss you, baby." He whispered, pulling you into a tight hug, squeezing you.

You hated to admit you missed it, too. Especially when you were this annoyed with Jeno, you hated that this was turning you on, listening to him talk about it.

"Come on, baby." He whispered in your ear, guiding your hand to the bulge in his pants, "Seeing you all angry gets me worked up, baby, I can't help it."

"Jeno." You rubbed him through his pants, "Jen,"

"Hm?" He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck, his hands brushing against your skin in a desperate attempt to soothe his thoughts.

"Please, baby, just listen to me for 3 seconds."

Jeno pulled away from kissing your neck, humming, "Okay, okay, I'm listening."

"Tomorrow, you're going into work and you're gonna be on time, with your phone charged and everything." You cupped his cheek, "I don't want you to lose your job because you're late."

"Okay, mistress." He teased, "You've have a little dominatrix hidden, don't you?" Jeno kissed at your cheeks, as he cupped them.

"Stop making it sexual."

He chuckled, "I can't help it, baby. I romanticize everything you do, babe." He whispered gently before he kissed you, sitting you down on the mattress of the bed, "It's cute seeing you act all tough and strict." He kissed at your skin, pressing you down against the mattress, straddling your hips.

His tongue brushed against your neck as he kissed you, his hands pushing your shirt over your head, letting your hands rest on his thighs.

Jeno pulled away from kissing at your neck, smiling down at you, "Do we have any condoms left?"

You sat up, looking at the bedside table, "Probably in the drawer."

Jeno crawled off of you to rummage through the drawer, clicking his tongue, "Damn." He mumbled, flitting through papers before he let out an exclamation, pulling out the foiled packaging from between the pages. "Got it."

"I knew you'd find it." You smiled, gasping as he pulled you closer to him on the edge of the bed by your ankles, watching him kneel down.

"Mmhmm," He hummed, pulling your bottoms down your legs, his lips kissing at your legs, "So pretty." He whispered, teasingly biting at your thigh, "Wanna taste you, baby."

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair, watching Jeno's finger tangle in the waistband of your panties.

"That okay, baby?" He whispered breathlessly, his lips swollen from kissing at your legs.

You nodded, "That's fine, baby."

Jeno smiled, pulling your bottoms and underwear down your legs, kissing up your legs, his lips hovering over your cunt and his breath fanning against your wetness, "Fuck, you're already wet, baby?" Jeno's thumb rubbed at your clit, licking his lips.

"Jen..."

Chuckling, Jeno smiled, flattening his tongue against your cunt, moaning lightly as you drooled against his tongue, "Fuck, baby..."

You moaned sharply, your fingers tightening on his hair, "Jeno..."

Jeno smiled, kissing at your pussy as he continued to lick at your clit, his fingers slowly pressing into your entrance, pumping his fingers into you, "So tight, baby. So sweet." He groans, "You're so perfect, princess."

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your gummy wall, curling his fingers as his lips kissed your hip, a weak moan escaping your throat.

Jeno listened to your moans as he continued to pump his fingers inside you, sucking your clit and tasting you on his tongue. How sweet you tasted, how your slick drooled from the length of his fingers to knuckles, and how amazing your gasps and moans sounded to his ears; Like music, a symphony. If he could listen to your sounds on repeat, he would, over and over and over. He couldn't get enough, he wanted more, wanted you.

Giving a teasing peck to your slit, Jeno kissed your hip, your stomach and up your body until he stopped at your neck, taking in your scent as he struggled to unbuckle the belt he wore with his work pants. "Little help?"

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair once more before you moved your hands down to unbuckle his belt, the echo of the buckle settling around you both, letting Jeno's lips meet your own in a desperate kiss, his tongue pushing between to rub against yours, a deep growl escaping his throat as your thumbs hooked around his bottoms, helplessly attempting to tug them down his legs. Parting from your lips, Jeno gave a breathy chuckle, his breath fanning against your face. He grabbed the condom he set down on the bedside table, keeping his eyes torn from your own for no less than a second.

Tearing it open with his teeth, Jeno gently pulled the rubber from the packaging, rolling it along his length, “Fuckin’ finally.” He whispered to himself, “I missed feeling you." He pressed kissed along your jawline, listening to the gasp leave your lips as he slowly pressed into you. "Shit, you feel so good." He whispered.

Jeno slowly started moving, and you've been thinking — actually thinking about something he mentioned that you couldn't possibly know if it was a joke or if he was serious. You dug your nails into his arm, “Wait.”

His hips immediately stilled, and he looked down at you, “You okay, baby?”

You cleared your throat shyly, “I’m fine, I just—”

“What is it?” He chuckled, brushing hair behind your ear, “You can tell me, princess.”

You couldn’t believe you were saying this, and you couldn’t even believe you were considering it. But, you can’t knock something until you try it, “I was thinking we could try it with… the mask on…” You love looking at Jeno when you were having sex. You love seeing his expressions, looking into his eyes as he was buried into you and you loved watching his brows furrow together as he gets closer to cumming. But, there was something alluring behind the idea of the mask. Almost like it was a mystery to how he’s feeling. It was sounding more exciting as every second passed. And, you could see just how excited Jeno was as he reached over to where he set the mask down, smiling at you as he pulled it on. Attempting to move, you rested your hand on his chest, “Ah, first, some ground rules.”

Jeno moved the mask to the side, his eye peeking at you, “All ears.”

“First, keep the freaky murders out of this, okay?” You started, watching him nod, “Second, this is just to test it out. I didn’t wanna just immediately cross it off the list of freaky shit we’ve done if we don’t do it.”

“Understandable.”

“Third, Roleplay is optional. But, I’m keeping anything too crazy off the table.” You looked at him, “Got it?”

“Got it, baby.” He smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek, “I love you, princess.”

“I love you, too, Jen.” You cupped his cheek, kissing him on the lips, slipping your tongue along his own to reignite the fire that wasn’t completely snuffed. Jeno eagerly reciprocated, his moan vibrating against your lips.

“Damn, don’t know if I really wanna keep the mask on now.”

You giggled, pressing another kiss against his lips, “Better put it back on before I change my mind.”

Jeno placed the mask back against his face, his eyes showing the smile you couldn’t see through the barrier, “I’m gonna start moving, baby.”

“Mmhmm,” You nodded, biting your lips as you felt his hips moving at a slow pace, the moan caught in your throat bubbling over.

Jeno had some type of fixation with your hands, one hand tangling with your own as his other pinned yours against the mattress. He loved seeing your hands wrapped around his cock, his wrist, intertwined with his own. He loved feeling your hands tangled in his hair, grabbing his biceps and digging into his skin, sometimes around his neck, if you both felt that was the move. Your hands were his favorite part of you.

Jeno squeezed your hand in his own as his hips pressed into you deeper, swearing under his breath as he felt your pussy weep around his cock, “Feel so good, angel.” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Missed this pretty pussy.”

You whined, your chest heaving as you squeezed his hand in your own. Words attempted to escape, but only came out as gasps. Jeno always had a way of filling you to the brim, and bringing you to the edge quickly.

Jeno could feel how badly you missed his cock; squeezing around him, the choked moans and gasps, the way your body tensed, and how your eyes rolled behind your eyelids. Sweat lingered on his forehead behind the mask, his breath growing heavily as he watched you writhe in desperation, “Like that, baby?”

You nodded when your words betrayed you, feeling Jeno’s hands leave your own to grip your waist and move you along his length, “Fu-“ You moaned as his hips piston against your own, reaching your hand up to tangle in his hair under the fabric of the mask, “Just like that, Jeno.” You stuttered out to your best ability, the pleasure overwhelmingly covering your body in a sheen of sweat.

Jeno smirked under the mask, his thumb moving to rub at your clit to heighten your experience and bring you closer to the edge, “Such a good girl, telling me just how you want it.”

Every word Jeno said pushed you closer to the edge, your legs mindlessly wrapping around his hips, “Feels so good… I’m almost there, Jen.”

“Me too, princess.” He gasped, his eyes trained on where you two met, the white, creamy ring sitting at the base of his cock, “Fit together so perfectly.” He moaned out, his thumb continuing to rub harsh circles on your clit, “Feel it, baby? ’S like you were made for me. Such a pretty cunt for my cock.”

Your fingers tightened around his hair, tugging at the strands as he continued to speak, “Jen…”

“You cummin’ already, baby?” He chuckled, “Such a good girl, cumming on my cock. Wish I could fill you up and make you mine already. Wanna show everyone you’re my girl.”

As he continued his assault on your cunt, you hung onto his every word, your pussy clenching around him. The ability to form sentences with words and exclamation has long since been fucked out of your brain, the only thing repeating in your head was, “Jeno, Jeno, Jeno.”

Jeno let out a raspy moan, the mask brushing against your chest as you felt his cum fill the condom, the heat filling your belly with warmth. Your chests both raised in sync as you attempted to catch your breath. Pulling the mask off, Jeno stilled inside you, smiling down at you sweetly, "Good job, baby."

You smiled back, pecking his lips, "Good job to you, too." You hummed, leaning back on your elbows, "Okay, pull out. I gotta piss before I develop a UTI."

"I love when you talk dirty to me." He teased, pulling out of you slowly before he laid back on the bed, steadying his breathing. Laying his head on the arms he crossed behind his head, he glanced around the room while he waited for you to come back from the restroom, “Did you get any work done on your paper?”

Returning from the restroom, you laid down beside him, “No, because someone gave me a call saying some guy was missing and they didn’t know where they were.”

Jeno rolled his eyes, “Haha.” He laughed sarcastically, “I told you, the car broke down. I couldn’t do anything but walk there.”

“I’m just teasing.” You nudged him, curling against his side as he wrapped his arm around your waist, the both looking at one another sweetly.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“For what?”

“I know I’m shitty with getting to places on time, and you have every right to be mad at me for this. You shouldn’t be the only one who needs to deal with this.” He brushed his fingers along your side, rubbing his thumb along your hip, “I’m gonna listen to you, okay? I know it seemed like I wasn’t paying attention but I was.”

You pressed your forehead against his, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “I know, Jen. And, I appreciate you for everything you already do.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Jeno.”

You both settled for relaxing and enjoying one another’s company, especially considering you both rarely got days off together. Jeno played a movie on his charged phone, which you both cuddled and watched. And it wasn’t Stab much to your surprise. It was something you suggested. You used that as proof that he loved you, even if it was something small like this; Cuddling, watching a movie together, sharing kisses and random thoughts either of you had about the film. You couldn’t wait for another day like this, even if it was years away.

You don’t remember falling asleep, and you don’t remember Jeno leaving for work that morning. You don’t even think he said goodbye, and it didn’t smell like his shampoo in the dorm room, nor his cologne. Rubbing your eyes, you glanced around the room, for any sign he left for work; a note, a text message on your phone screen, or even a Tupperware bin with some food he made or ordered in. And after a long look around the room, you found the post-it note stuck to the paper of your notebook with all the information you could think to include in your report of the Woodsboro murders that read; “Be back later. Went to work. Make sure to finish your paper. Love you.” And in smaller hand writing underneath his already small lettering, he wrote, “P.S. Left some dirty clothes on the floor. I’ll do the wash later.”

Setting the note down, you sighed, walking around the small dorm room to find said clothes he left on the floor, but you couldn't find it. You checked the back of his chair, the bathroom, by the dresser, but you couldn't find it. You squat down, looking underneath the bed to find, lo and behold, the dirty clothes he left on the floor. You wondered how much of a rush he could've been in to kick them under the bed.

You reached under the bed, grabbing the clothes only to immediately drop it as soon as you pull it out, your hands covered in red liquid. It covered the floor where you had dropped it, a "splat" echoed in your head after you'd done so. It wasn't as thick and red as blood, and it definitely wasn't as thin and clear as water. You couldn't decipher what it was. It dried down quickly on your hands and the floor.

Horror aside, you rised from the ground, and grabbed a brush to clean the mess off the floor — you'd interrogate Jeno later — and scrubbed the living hell out of the floor. You were sure the finish over the hardwood floors were coming off by how hard you were scrubbing. You had to get the deposit back for the dorm room, even if you had to scrub the floor on your hands and knees.

Kneeling there, you felt tears brim your eyes as you thought to yourself, "What exactly am I cleaning up?" You felt your arms burn with each motion you made, you felt your breathing grow heavy. You could count this as your workout for the week.

"Jeno, you idiot." You whispered to yourself, the tears rolling down your face, gasping for air. "God, this is so stupid." You used your sleeve to wipe at your cheeks, a shaky breath escaping your lips.

You tried to push the thought from your mind, deciding to just focus on your other preoccupation, which was sitting inside your laptop, begging for any type of attention from you divided brain. So, you did. Cross-referencing your notes, reading the PDF of the books on your laptop and then switching over to Microsoft Word to type anything that came to mind, as long as it's relevant.

Yet, you could feel your mind drifting.

You sat there, pausing as you thought about everything you've read as if you could even begin to connect it to your life. There's so much Sydney Prescott went through that you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Rubbing your temples, you were reaching the final stretch of the paper, attempting to type out a conclusion that would make any type of sense for it.

The dorm room opened and you turned briefly to find your boyfriend walking in with the earbuds in his ears, "Hey, baby." He walked over, pecking your head, "How's the paper coming along?"

You tapped your pen against your notebook, "I'm stuck."

Jeno began to dress down from his work uniform, his eyes glancing at his side of the bed, the green and white heavy duty scrub brush laying on the ground, covered in the diluted red suds. "Did you grab the clothes?"

"I was trying to." You mumbled, "What was on them?"

"Why'd you do that?" Jeno voice was deeper and you can see his brows furrow as he looked at you.

You turned around in your seat, looking at him, "I was trying to help."

"I told you I'd do it." He shouted.

"Jen, I was just-"

"I said I'd pick them up and wash them."

You glanced down at the clothes on the floor, whatever was on them leaking between the floorboards and you winced at the thought of it staining the floor. "I just wanted to help! The laundry basket isn't far from where you put them."

"Well, I was in a rush. I didn't have time to throw them in the basket. That's why I left them on the floor."

You sighed, rubbing your eyes, "I just thought I was saving time by moving it to the basket."

Jeno pulled his work shirt off, groaning, "I didn't want to ruin the other clothes in there."

"And just leave it to soak into the flooring?"

"No— God, fuck." He threw his work shirt into the laundry basket before picking up the soiled clothes and placing them inside, "There, happy?"

You looked at him, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" He grumbled, "Just wish you didn't have such lousy faith in me."

"I never said I did."

"You sure as hell implied it." He grabbed the basket and walked out the dorm room to the laundry room down the hall.

Your eyes narrowed at the back of his head before you went back to your paper, finishing it off in record time. It was finally time to prepare your paper to be printed, turned in and graded. You unplugged your laptop, making sure to save your finished paper before you shut it off and carried it out to the library.

You gave the two dollars and fifty cents to the librarian to use the printer, and stood by the machine to print out your report.

As the belt of the printer echoed through the library and watched each paper spit out after one another, the ink bleeding into the back, you were now preoccupied with everything you read about the Woodsboro murders, what exactly your boyfriend was upset about and whether or not, you should be the one to apologize. You didn't think you were doing anything wrong. You thought you were helping by grabbing the clothes. You really weren't concerned about whatever was on it anymore; all you know is you were happy it wasn't blood.

Maybe this whole report was getting to your head. You've read Sydney Prescott's encounters too much to the point you were scared what she went through was happening to you. How impossible is it?

You're just paranoid. You're being delusional and dramatic and you could only do your best to gaslight yourself into believing you're being a crazy girlfriend who had no reason to make your boyfriend feel like an idiot.

Drowning in your thoughts, you didn't draw your eyes away from the printer, unaware of the beeping it gave you to grab the papers it finished printing out.

Like you were a puppet, you grab the papers, tucking them under your arm with your laptop, and made your way to the hole puncher, pressing down on the lever after setting the papers inside.

Everything felt like ten tasks wrapped into one as you did them, like it was neverending.

You hole punched the papers, and placed them onto the counter, "Hi," you smiled to the librarian.

"Hi, what can I help you with?" She reciprocated the smile.

"I wanted to purchase one of the report covers." You nodded your head to the item, opening your wallet.

She rised from the chair, grabbing the cover.

You glanced down at the glass box you placed your laptop and papers on, eyeballing a newspaper that was displayed in the box. From what you could read through the glass, there seemed to have been some recent murders around the area. Jesus, you spent these last two days inside like some recluse and people have been dying.

“Can… Can I also get one of these papers?” You asked, pointing at it through the glass.

The librarian nodded her head as she set the items down, using the key on her keyring to open the glass case and grab a newspaper, setting it down beside the covers and your items, “All right, your total will be 5 dollars even.”

You dropped the bill onto the counter, grabbing your items and made your way out of the library. You anxiously hurried back to your dorm, opening the door to the room, setting the items down on your desk. The newspaper laid flat on your desk, your eyes reading over the article from a distance.

It was nauseating, reading over the details. Two people gone in two days… It was hard to stomach it.

You sat down on your chair, staring at the front page. To think you were perfectly fine while these people were living their last day being tortured. Obviously, you couldn’t have worn a cape and saved them, but, you wished there was something you could’ve done to prevent something like this from happening. The addresses seemed all too familiar. Like, you’ve seen them before. Somewhere familiar almost.

The door opened and you heard a sniffle from the doorway, “Oh, baby.” Jeno whispered, wandering over to you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I-I had a rough day at work, hearing shit from Jaehyun and everyone about yesterday, and I took it out on you and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be making a big deal over you helping, especially not since our anniversary is tomorrow.”

You rubbed his head as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, “It’s okay, baby.” You kissed his cheek, “Hey, have you heard about this?” You motioned to the newspaper.

“About what?” He lifted his head, looking at the front page of the newspaper, “Yeah… Yeah, I heard about it. Chenle was mentioning it at work today.”

“It’s sad.”

“It is.” He sighed, rubbing your shoulder with his hand, “All we can do right now is just be happy it wasn’t us.”

You felt the lump in your throat strain as you tried to keep your tears back, “I guess you’re right.”

Jeno pecked your cheek, glancing at the papers on your desk, “You finished the report?"

“Yeah.” You folded the newspaper up, setting it off to the side, flitting your fingers through the paper, “Wanna read it?”Jeno scoffed, “Uh, yeah.” He grabbed the paper, beginning to read through it in silence, as if he was absorbing the information. You sat there, waiting for his input, which was often accompanied by the mention of his favorite movie.

Jeno read the pages all too quickly, turning to look at you, “You always have such a way with words, baby.” He set them down beside you, “You’ll definitely get a high grade on it.”

You smiled, threading the paper through the loops, preparing it to be turned in, the cover with your name, title of the report, class, et cetera, et cetera at the top. “I’m glad you think so.”

“You put work into it. Compassion, care, intellect. You would deserve it.”

“How’d the wash go?”

“They’re in the dryer right now.” Jeno leaned back on the bed, pulling his phone out, “Should be done in 20 minutes. More or less.”

Your heart still ached from what Jeno said earlier, so you returned his answer with silence, not able to find words to express yourself. At least, not yet. You decided to keep it under wraps until after your anniversary tomorrow. After the party. After Halloween.

It was Halloween night. Jeno and you have spent the beginning of your anniversary cuddling in bed, whispering soft “Happy Anniversary”’s to one another. He took you out to breakfast, lunch and shopping. “Just to show you off,” Jeno tried to convince you. But, now, it was time to sit through the two hour long movie Jeno and you both shared every anniversary. Jeno thought it’d be funny to dress up in the Ghostface costume for the evening, since he was the “star” of the movie. He said that, “behind the mask, it wasn’t just Billy Loomis or Stu Macher. Together, they worked as one.”

“I got an A on my paper.” You briefly mentioned as Jeno drove you both to his work place. Turns out, his car just needed a jumpstart.

“That’s great, baby. I knew you’d get a good grade.” He chuckled, turning his head to look at you before looking at the road again, “What’d you get docked off?”

“Turns out, I was a bit too sympathetic in my writing. I got docked a few points for ‘appearing too biased’.” You shrugged, “It’s whatever.”

Jeno chuckled, “Well, I thought it was amazing.” He smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the theater, “Just goes to show that you have a better point of view than other people. Not everyone will understand that.”

Unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your bag, you exited the car, “I guess, but I understand it from my professor’s perspective. It’s supposed to be an informational report, not an opinion discussion board.”

Jeno followed, locking the door behind you both, “Doesn’t mean you can’t share your opinion.” He grabbed your hand in his own and guided you to the front doors of the theater. The theater was covered in Halloween decorations, and it was unfortunate that it’d all have to come down after this evening.

Jaehyun and Jeno’s other managers were handing out drinks and popcorn to your boyfriend’s coworkers, who wandered off to the theater they were all familiar with. Approaching the counter, you heard a loud “Boo!’’ echo off the walls, causing you to jump and hold your hand to your chest.

“Chenle, what the fuck?” You scolded, glaring at him through your lashes.

“Dude, Chenle, I told you not to do that stuff tonight.” Jeno sighed, rubbing his temples, “I told you Y/N’s been freaked out cause of all the shit happening.”

“My bad. I meant to scare Jeno more than I did to you, Y/N.” Chenle chuckled, “Sorry.”

You sighed softly, “Doesn’t help that it already happened.”

Jeno wrapped his arm around your shoulder, silently comforting you as he spoke with Chenle, “We’re wearing the same costume.”

“We, indeed, are.” Chenle sighed, “You just can’t stop copying me.” He glanced down at the mask he held in his hand, “Is that the replica? Are you seriously wearing it to this?”

Jeno scoffed, “Where else am I gonna wear it?” He questioned, moving up in the line as it progressed, “I can’t keep it hanging up on my wall forever.”

Your heart settled in your chest as you walked up to the counter, looking at Jaehyun, mouthing a quiet, “Help.”

Jaehyun already knew the predicament you were in; forced to listen to the conversation of two movie buffs talking about “Stab!” He’s had to deal with it for the last 4 years the two had worked there. There was times he’s even had to apologize for interrupting their precious reminiscences of the movie. “Chenle, Jeno, Y/N, what can I get for you guys?”

“Jaehyun!” Chenle greeted him over the counter with open arms, “Be a doll and get the lady some Sour Patch. I scared her half to death trying to scare her boyfriend.”

Jaehyun sighed, glancing at you, “Freaked out about those things happening around town?”

“You could say so.” You accepted the candy the man offered, “Just found about it yesterday, too.”

“Yeah, she could hardly sleep last night.”

“Babe,”

“What?” Jeno shrugged, “Not saying it’s a bad thing. Just a little uncharacteristic of you.”

You sighed, letting Jeno grab the popcorn and the drinks for you two, “Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He smiled, nodding his head to you.

Jeno guided both you and Chenle to the theater the movie was showing in, letting you take the lead up the stairs. There they were, the seats you both sat in 3 years ago, still in the condition you remember them in. So many people have sat in these chairs and would never understand just how much it has meant to you and your relationship. You sat in the aisle seat, gently taking the drinks in your hand as your boyfriend sat down beside you. He was quick to lift the arm rest between you two to pull you closer to him, his arm wrapped around your waist with the popcorn bucket sat in between you both. He accepted his drink and set it down in the cup holder.

“Just like all those years ago.” Jeno sighed, resting his head on top of yours.

You smiled to yourself, grabbing his hand in your own, “As much as I pretend to hate this movie, it still has a special place in my heart.”

Jeno kissed your knuckles, watching as his co-workers and plus one’s fill their seats. The smell of butter on popcorn filled the air, and the quiet chatter between everyone echoed off the wall.

Jaehyun entered the theater, standing at the front near the screen, “Happy Halloween, everyone!” He greeted, crossing his arms over his chest as everyone repeated the words, “Much to my reluctance, your coworkers requested this movie to be shown because of the connotation that it is the halloween movie to watch.”

Jeno and Chenle both gave hoots and hollers at the mention of their suggestion getting picked.

“It also happens to be the first movie our favorite visitor saw with her boyfriend here at the theater.” Jaehyun motioned to both you and Jeno, everyone turning to look at you, “This is also a token of our appreciation to our team for the close end-of-the-year. We would not be here without all of your guys help and hard-work.”

The theater filled with clapping, cheering and sweet words called out to everyone’s favorite manager.

“Settle down, everyone.” He chuckled, “Alright, everyone. Presenting this evening is Stab! Please silence your cell phones and enjoy the movie.”

The lights turned down and you watched the film light up the screen. No previews, no movie trailers, just pure film. It started out how it always did; Casey Becker popping popcorn on the stove, the harsh lighting of her house bringing out the color of her blonde hair.

Despite watching the movie multiple times, every fake jumpscare, every fake gore still made you jump and turn away from the screen. Jeno chuckled, comforting you as best he could, pecking your head.

"I've got to use the restroom." You whispered, attempting to stand up.

"Wait, you'll miss it." Jeno focused on the screen as he watched the movie intently, absorbing everything.

"Jen, we see the movie all the time. I'm sure I know what happens." You stood from the seat, glancing at the row behind you, gasping softly.

The row that was once filled with Jeno's coworkers was now empty with a horrific scene that you couldn't stomach.

Heads slumped forward, bodies slack, popcorn spilling out on the floor as the hands they had on the paper bucket were loosened.

You nudged Jeno's shoulder, unable to speak, who only glanced behind him, a sigh escaping his lips, "He always does this."

"What?" Your brows furrowed, "Jeno, what?"

Jeno set the popcorn down on the now empty seat beside him, where Chenle was.

"You... You—"

Jeno covered your mouth with his hand, covering his face with the mask, speaking through the mesh, "You're too trusting."

You felt your bottom lip quiver as he looked at you through the eyeholes, the tears rolling down your cheeks. You were an idiot, such an idiot. The sneaking out despite having his keys, the car "breaking" down, the dirty clothes, the disappearing. How didn't you see it? How didn't you see that he was the problem this whole time?

"You seriously believed I wasn't doing anything against your wishes?" He whispered, "You're such a dolt. You'd think reading all the books on criminal behavior would have made you more aware of what you were getting into."

"Jen..." You mumbled through his hand, "Please, ju-just let me go. I-I won't tell anyone."

Jeno clicked his tongue as he nodded his head towards Chenle wandering around the ground floor, holding Jaehyun by the back of his neck, bringing you both face to face, "You're too cute, thinking you'll be getting out of this."

The movie continued to play in the background and you couldn't help but repeat all the lines in your head.

Jaehyun struggled against Chenle's grip, his brows furrowed.

"For what it's worth, I actually was in love with you." Jeno whispered in your ear, "Every time I was with you, I felt butterflies in my stomach and my chest ached every time I thought about being apart from you." He rested his chin on your shoulder, "Consider this orientation."

He wrapped your hands around a clip pointed blade, one you didn't even know he owned, guiding it to point at Jaehyun's stomach, yet not piercing the skin just yet.

"All you have to do is push this blade into his belly. Kinda like gutting a pig."

You shook your head, your face contorting as he explained it to you. The tears continued to roll down your cheeks and over the black gloves Jeno wore.

"I told you she didn't have it in her, Jeno." Chenle chuckled, "She's too humanitarian."

"Shut up." Your boyfriend — or rather, at this point, your ex-boyfriend — glared, "She's gonna have to get some blood on her hands if we don't want to go down by ourselves."

Jaehyun attempted to yell, Chenle's hand covering his mouth quickly.

During the little squabble the two wannabe Ghostface's were having, your hand loosened on the knife that Jeno had released to point at Chenle.

Jaehyun and you both made eye contact, silently communicating with one another. He nodded his head to the knife in your hand, you shook yours, and he looked at Jeno, raising his eyebrows. You knew what he was telling you to do. "Use the knife on your boyfriend who was actually a homocidal maniac and planned this whole entire thing."

Using the knife Jeno planted in your hand was you accepting that everything you put in for the last 3 years was over. That despite all your efforts to put him up on a pedestal as the "best boyfriend who might have an odd obsession with this slasher film" was all for nothing. That all those things people have whispered about him was true and that you were nothing more than enabler. That you were none the wiser to all these strange behaviors coming from your boyfriend.

It made you nauseous to believe that were put into this situation and you dragged innocent people into it.

Jaehyun was almost begging you, pleading you, to set all those feelings aside and to get the upper hand in this situation. He wanted you to realize that this may be the end of 3 years but that you'll be free from the gossip, from the worry of what he was truly doing, from spending an extra 3 years trying to convince yourself that Jeno is a good guy and not some maniac under wraps.

You shook your head, feeling your bottom lip tremble as you considered the options. You could either let the two toy with Jaehyun and yourself like you guys were fashion dolls, or you could attempt to end this now and give them a taste of their own medicine. It was hard to detach yourself from Jeno — you had spent every day of your life with him after that first day. You both moved in, you adjusted your schedules for one another, you shared bills, you shared chores, you shared one another. You drag your eyes along the mask that Jeno wore, silently wishing it was just some big, giant cruel prank that would end with Ashton Kutcher coming out with a camera crew and a team telling you you had gotten punk'd in this day and age.

I can't, I can't, I can't, you whispered to yourself as the tears were pouring from your eyes, gripping the knife and turning in Jeno's arm; which seemed to loosen out of habit; the knife meeting his abdomen.

"Ow!" Jeno looked at you, glaring, "You stabbed me!"

You held the crimson-stained blade in your hand, sobbing, "Please, Jen... Please don't do this!"

He looked to Chenle, then back at you, "I've never been stabbed before."

Jaehyun used the distraction as a way to make his way out of Chenle's grasp, blocking you with his body, "Both of you, you can walk away from this."

You let Jaehyun block you, exchanging the knife between your hands, allowing him to hold it out in front of him.

"Walk away?" Jeno's gloved hand covered the wound, "It's too late for that." He chuckled darkly, "You know why other killers get caught so fast?"

"Jeno, please stop!" You screamed.

"Because they don't take the extra precautions; different sized shoes than regular ones, different cologne, different clothes than regular. They never take the time to make a whole new persona."

The two walked up the stairs, pushing you both into the back row, Jaehyun's hand holding your shaking one in his, "Jeno, Chenle, please. Let us go. You already got everyone else in the theater. What does it matter if there's 2 left?"

"Because if she lives," Chenle pointed, "We're suspects."

"And if you live," Jeno whispering almost sinisterly, "She has a witness."

"I won't say a word, please... please, Jeno, you know I won't. You know I won't say anything." Your bottom lip wobbled, "Just let us go."

The movie continued to play in the background, the contours of the mask illuminated by the scene on the screen, "Don't you remember this scene, Y/N?"

You glanced at the screen briefly, being reminded of the first date you both shared; It was when Billy confronted Sydney after being arrested. Jeno was holding you close to his chest that first day together, like he didn't have a care in the world that it was your guys first date.

You shut your eyes, squeezing Jaehyun's hand in your own, which he reciprocated in comfort. Jeno spoke, but you tuned it out, trying to calm down from the anxiety attack that rised in your chest.

Jaehyun, Jeno, Chenle. Chenle, Jeno, Jaehyun. The conversation continued on and on, each arguing with one another as if it was over the last slice of pizza.

You weren't a final girl, and never did you have it in you to be a final girl. Like Chenle said, you're too humanitarian. But, you stood against the wall, your heart thumping in your chest as Jaehyun defended you both with the knife.

Everything was a blur; Jeno and Chenle teaming up against Jaehyun, Jaehyun receiving a wound on his cheek, You couldn't move. You were frozen. This wasn't a movie, it wasn't a stupid sequel to "Stab!". You were forced to watch this go on, and you could barely move.

Jeno gave a final look at you through the mask, before a thud echoed across the theater, Chenle falling right after.

You sobbed silently as you looked at your boyfriend laying on the floor of the theater, annoyed to see the cold pvc plastic of the mask and not his handsome face that you grew so familiar to seeing.

Jaehyun kneeled beside you, grabbing your hand, "Come on. We've gotta get out of here." He helped you up, and you half expected for Jeno to follow after you, not as this monster he became, but as your boyfriend.

"Jeno..."

"No, come on." Jaehyun whispered, letting you continue to stare at him as he lead you down the hallway of the auditorium. "Last time I hire Stab fanatics." He grumbled to himself, sitting you down at a square table in the lobby as he called the police on the theater's phone.

You glanced at Jaehyun, noticing the blood seeping through his work shirt, his breathing heavy.

"You're hurt."

Jaehyun quickly gave as much information as he could to the police, before he hung up and looked at you, "I'll be fine. First responders should be here soon."

You sighed, "I'm half expecting Jeno to come through the door and tell me he's ready to go home."

"It'll be hard to get used to." Jaehyun winced, leaning against the concession counter.

"I don't know if I want to get used to it."

Jaehyun sighed, "He tried to kill you." He mumbled, "He tried to have you kill me." He looked at you, "He didn't know you. Someone who loves you would never subjugate you to that."

The shock was enough to force you to stop crying, rubbing your arm with your hand. Jaehyun was right; if Jeno truly loved you, he'd never put you into this situation. The sirens and lights reflected and echoed off the walls just as the first responders arrived.

Jaehyun offered his hand to you, which you kindly took as he led you out the door.

It's been weeks since everything at the theater went down. Jaehyun and you met up frequently for emotional support. You're in therapy after everything that happened. You'd still find yourself thinking about Jeno, waking up in the morning questioning where he was.

That evening at the theater, after the police arrived, Jaehyun was transported to the hospital for treatment. Leaving you alone outside the theater, sniffling to yourself. They exited just as quickly as they entered.

"Didn't see anything." One of the police officers said to another and you whipped your head towards them, making it completely obvious that you were listening.

"You telling me there wasn't two adults in hooded robes with those cheesy Ghostface masks?"

"Nope. Only those victims in the seats."

You moved back in with your mother after that. You spent more of your time looking over you shoulder, in fear you'd see your ex-boyfriend with a knife, rather than enjoying your life as it is now.

You could hardly settle in your bedroom, laying on your side watching the movie on your television screen. Nothing too exciting, just a re-run of Mrs. Doubtfire. With your head leaning on your hand and your blanket over your shoulders, you heard a creak behind you.

You didn't dare look, but from the mirror you had angled to face your bedroom door, you saw the same pvc plastic you see in your nightmares, and the shine of the blade.

copyright © 2024 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.

[maniwannadiezz]

The inconsistencies continue…

green-best to red-worst…. It’s almost criminal to not have proper references for what these characters huge ass lashes look like in certain expressions. Letting the animators guess for you cause you couldn’t be arsed to create a consistent reference of any character. Hurts more when you remember this is also animated by underpaid bento box employees and exploited college students.

Now for one of the most inconsistently drawn besides Charlie herself:

Her cheek is there then not, her lips have a cupids bow then not, her eyes are super wide then smaller, her lashes are super long then short or not there. Not seen here but her cheek blush is just as crazy inconsistent as Charlie’s. Once again. Is there no draw overs? Someone there to fix storyboards that might confuse the animators or are they given full reign cold turkey? No instructions? I admit I’d go insane.

This isn’t the first time a design proportions change every two seconds in a vivziepop’s work. Beelzebub is another contender, being changed with each animator as they struggle and get nowhere near the original proportions set for them by vivziepop's design. And that is no offence to them at all, I’m sure what they’ve been given is nowhere near as thorough as Lackadaisy’s sheets.

before anyone tells me I’m a hypocrite because I have a Steven universe icon. I’ve been preaching the same thing before you were born lol. Inconsistencies take the viewer out of the story! It MATTERS. Visually and narratively. I’ll give Hazbin a bit of a break since they probably had the same issue like Steven universe where it was overseas and as to not rock the boat said overseas animators relied heavily on the proportions in storyboards… but helluva boss really has no excuse whatsoever.

[skyrages]

Dumb things about the definition of psychopathy and ASPD

Did you know that the only recognised test for psychopathy (PCL-R, and yes psychopathy is actually a scientifically used term as well as ASPD, which are technically separate things in practice but also supposed to be the same thing, but ASPD is diagnosed mainly on the factor 2 impulsive and socially deviant traits) is copyrighted which is why you cannot actually find a proper description of the traits and how to differentiate them? Even though it’s a medical disorder supposedly and facts shouldn’t be copyrighted? And the creator got royalties from it and sued people about stupid things?

Also many of the traits are external behaviours (manipulation, irresponsibility), which you can argue may or may not be part of the core of the disorder (you could argue that behaviours are just as much evidence of personality as thoughts and feelings), but if that is not enough, it is often things that literally are society’s reaction your behaviour (many types of crimes, revocation of conditional release, juvenile delinquency, which if you act and think the same way as someone else but don’t have a history with the police you are suddenly less of a psychopath lol) which are indisputably not personality traits, and it’s not a diagnosis based solely on patterns of thinking and feeling like some people pretend it is?

And did you know that the definition of the traits of the disorder is controversial beyond the PCL? Like the fact that people keep mostly failing to prove (only connection exists when the definition itself requires it, which is rare, and because it’s unconnected to the usual traits and sometimes that doesn’t even work) that psychopaths don’t suffer from emotional distress? What about the fact that tests for the emotional part tend to have poor internal consistency and not correlate especially with each other? Or whether or not criminal behaviour is a trait (although those people also think that for example manipulation is a trait even though they are both behaviours and equally related, and think that irritability isnt a trait so the argument those people use about behaviour doesn’t really make sense to me, which is a shame because I could see the argument of making it just about the internal part or something to simplify it).

And it makes one wonder if it’s even an independent thing and not a bunch of random shit that gets put together inconsistently?

[natalyarose]

My Journey With Ayanamsa

It feels fitting that my first astrological post be a write up on one of my most profound astrological journeys. I started studying astrology avidly when I was in my teens, and soon discovered the magic of Vedic Astrology & Nakshatras .

Learning of the Nakshatras and the beauty of what they have to offer opened up a world of knowledge and patterns that feel almost criminal to be aware of. I mean, no amount of knowledge or spirituality can be a 'cheat code' to bypass enduring and navigating Earthly life, but it just shocks me the pure transparency of the cosmic patterns found applying Vedic astrology. I mean, Tropical astrology without Nakshatras was already magical to explore, but Nakshatras took the cake haha.

I noticed very early on that Lahiri Ayanamsa didn't seem accurate, but at the time I didn't know about Ayanamsa and was driving myself utterly mad trying to understand why not only my own, but other charts I'd observed seemed to off by at least a couple of degrees.

I am someone who is born at the end of a Nakshatra. The more I delved into Nakshatras, the more it became clear that somehow, I belonged to the latter Lunar Mansion to the one that showed up in many calculations.

Everything about me (and others who had the same dilemma), down to my personality, upbringing, mannerisms, art, outfit choices and even my physical appearance aligned with the prospect of calculations being altered at least a couple of degrees.

A lot of people told me that maybe some people are just anomalies, I even started theorising that maybe some peoples' spirits didn't inhabit their body until a couple of hours after birth (lol), but that was me clutching at straws- also, the ascendant would change too much if were the case & it were a birth time issue.

Eventually I discovered Ayanamsa, and I realised, I wasn't crazy!

I learnt that Lahiri Ayanamsa was the most commonly used Nakshatra only because it was the one selected by the Indian government. They needed one consistent, passable Ayanamsa to settle confusions & standardize dates for various celebrations.

The Ayanamsa was created by a Mathematician with little knowledge of astrology. There was just an urgent need to pick at least one definitive calculation irrespective of whether it was necessarily the most accurate. I mean, I'm sure they would've wanted it to be accurate too, but that wasn't the main goal.

I am quoting renowned Vedic astrologer, Ernst Wilhelm on this- but even NC Lahiri- the creator of Lahiri later admitted his own calculation was flawed, and noted that if he could go back in time he would have altered the Ayanamsa by a few degrees.

Before Lahiri Ayanamsa, the most commonly followed Ayanamsa were Revati based ayanamsas (True Revati, Usha/Shashi, Hipparchus, Sassanian).

Ernst Wilhelm devoted extensive time, observation, testing and intuitive understanding to cleverly creating his own Ayanamsa which ever since I discovered it, makes a world of sense to me. So many things in both my own chart & others' just clicked. There were a lot of inconsistencies I used to explain away by being like 'hmm it must be their d9' or 'huh, I guess their other placements are just stronger than that one'. I found that a lot of these things that didn't quite make sense were naturally rectified by using Ernst's Ayanamsa.

Before finding Ernst Wilhelm's Dhruva Galactic Center (I can thank @makingspiritualityreal for my stumbling across it on tumblr, thankyou for sharing your knowledge lovely!! ♡), I used Raman Ayanamsa. I wasn't certain it was the absolute best one, but it did seem to rectify a lot of the issues I was coming across- however there were many instances where I would for example; see and feel the influence of a transit a little bit before it occurred even using Raman calculations. So, I did suspect the degrees should be a little further forward, and Dhruva Galactic Center perfectly aligns with that.

The intuitive line of thought behind Wilhelm's Ayanamsa is also awesome! The concept that the 'correct' Ayanamsa would be based on the Galactic Center- the heart of our galaxy- which lies in the very middle of Mula, 'the root' 'the truth'... it just makes too much sense!

Since Ernst Wilhelm's Ayanamsa is only accessible through his Kala astrology software, I've been using Usha/Shashi Ayanamsa on Astroseek since it is ever so slightly different, but almost the same in value to Dhruva Galactic Center. EDIT: @bdandelion informed me that there actually is an Astroseek Ayanamsa called 'Galactic Center Mid-Mula' that is essentially the same as Ernst Wilhelm's Ayanamsa! I'm not sure how I missed this, I think I just got confused haha, but how exciting!!

I am and always will keep an open mind when it comes to Ayanamsa and all astrological things; if I closed off my perception because one guy said one thing, I would not know even half of the things I know, but for now, that is my story/journey with Ayanamsa :)

I'm so grateful to know what I know, because I spent a good year of my life (when I should've been focusing in school among other things, lol) frantically trying to understand why the astrology I loved didn't seem to make mathematical sense, why some people and placements weren't fitting. To me, this has been a big test of my faith in my own intuition. I knew something was up, and I did think I was going mad for a while, but I followed that trail and found a wealth of knowledge I am blessed to have.

To be clear, I have no desire to force other people to follow the same calculation- I understand it would also be jarring for people. It would shift quite a lot of things for some people and all, but for what it's worth, I think part of being a good astrologer is keeping that open mind and heart to potential new information. Like with science- keep an open mind, entertain every idea, and don't fully latch onto something until you have sufficient reason to believe it!

Peace and love my guys! ♡

[chelsgalaxy]

days 3 & 4 wolfnichols tapestry update:

day 3 - 2 rows completed in 2 hours

day 4 - 4 rows completed in 5 hours (ive been watching criminal minds reruns all day so ive been slow lol)

its curving quite a bit but that's because I did not realize how much adding each color in would change my tension! in crochet work, inconsistent tension can cause curving like this. really the only way to fix it is undoing your work and then redoing it but I really don't want to do that so I'm just going with it!

[gaphic]

hi im really interested in your hot takes on the classpects. as i was reading through that post about how homestuck is about breaking or following the narrative my first thought was about how this probably leads to a very different interpretation of the classpects than ive usually seen, but im not sure if im familiar enough to think it all out myself - and then i saw you mention offhand you have Hot Takes about it so. color me curious?

YOU ARE QUITE RIGHT IN THAT ASSESSMENT!

ok here's my take: it's literally Not That Deep. sburb is an incomplete RPG, not a deity or a greater consciousness. it doesn't actually know what is good for the players personal development. it is entirely skin-deep.

this is reflected in the performatively hollow echeladder mechanic, and in the sprites- who, lest we forget, are NPCs. that's why they're so 'mysterious.' they exist only to keep players on track, and 'the following quest objectives are HIGHLY PERSONALIZED to help you reach your full potential! great answers await you!' is a line written to serve that purpose. jaspersprite drops the facade a little bit and reveals he has no idea what he's talking about, the game is just making him say it

in keeping with this, classpects are not determined by people deep interior selves. they are determined by surface-level observations and by party optimization. the game generates a handful of possible classpects based on traits like 'bookish,' 'pirate' and 'cheerful,' then cross-references that with balanced team builds. the alpha session, being less complete, lacks the party optimization algorithm

Roxy is a do-good hacker (criminal) who uses an appearifier, she's a rogue who makes stuff appear out of nothing. Dirk carries on about being a leader and being toxic, he's a prince who destroys souls. Jake is weak/insecure and ignores reality, he's the 'untapped potential' class with the power to imagine things into existence. Jane is the only one who seems a little less literal, and I suspect that has to do with the Condesce, since she was the one who released the sburb alpha. Condy is a life player, therefore Jane is a life player (plus, she has that penchant for foiling assassination attempts, avoiding death) and she's a maid because Condy wants a handmaid

Aradia robs graves, Dave collects dead things, Caliborn is into murder, time is the death aspect. Callie, Jade, and Kanaya are all artists, space is the creation aspect. Karkat fantasizes about being a member of the royal army and he's obsessed with his blood, he's a knight of blood. I could go on but you get the point lol. classpects are superficial and depend heavily on what balances well, not your personal truth

likewise, I think your average '[closest object to you] + [current weather condition] = your sburb planet' type meme is pretty much exactly how the sburb planets actually work. they're not 'designed to challenge people' beyond the literal quest challenges

i think this reading immediately clears up a lot of apparent inconsistencies in the comic, like how Dave's planet is his own personal hell while Vriska's planet is her own personal heaven. the game doesn't actually know how they feel about these things or what would help them grow

[ay0nha]

Relief in Destruction | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: Joel let you explore for a moment. He was begrudgingly curious to know what your touch felt like outside of the unintentional contact when handing you a note or striking his hand. He knew what he should be doing, how he should— would have reacted with anyone else. 

PAIRING: (Boston era) Joel Miller x f!reader (radio worker)

WORD COUNT: 3K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, not much, mentions of alcohol, mutual pining, teaching reader to punch (sort of), angsty, cheesy lines picked up from watching criminal minds lol,  etc. 

A/N:  I’ve been staring at this for too long and started losing the plot lol, so that it doesn’t sit in the drafts without sunlight, here it is! If this is similar to something else you’ve read by me (that’s I may or may not have deleted) not its not...Thanks for my cousin for comparing my reader to radio rebel 😭😭 and to @from-the-clouds​ for constantly listening to my rambling and lack of coherency 💕💕 Enjoy!

The city was dark. The rain tapping inconsistently against the window panes created a prism of light entering the room. You appreciated the rainy nights; they meant work would be slow.

People thought sending coded messages would have more privacy under the guise of the night, as if daylight would curse the carried transmission. There was some truth to that, but the difference was minimal, with FEDRA cracking down as hard as they wanted.

The rain was what people didn’t consider. It was responsible for static, missed communication. Your nightmares lacked fuel those nights; you didn’t have to listen and notate the plot of raiders or slavers. There was no frustrated line pressuring you for a response you had no connection with. It was quiet. Calm.

But you heard the floorboards creak under unknown weight. You were attuned with the family that housed you; their steps were never as cautious. A gun was in the drawer, there just in case. You weren’t convinced it had ammunition as it was nothing more than a paperweight.

Regardless, you held it up as your only form of self-defense.

“Fuck, Joel.”

Air flooded your lungs in relief and recognition. The man entered without care, not even batting an eye at your shallow threat. Joel was coarse, his presence there only out of necessity.

“I need to get somethin’ out.”

“Messages only go out in the morning.” You puffed out the remaining anxiety. “You know that.” There were rules, and you knew he tended to break most. “I don’t play favorites.”

“Tonight you are.” He pulled the map from his pocket. His finger traced a red line just north of the city.

“Bill and Frank?” You threw the gun back in the drawer. The heft made a chill run up your spine at the sudden noise. The idea of being caught with a smuggler, let alone Joel, threatened your plan. “They can handle themselves.”

Joel was obviously agitated, likely due to the blood still fresh on his knuckles. It felt like a threat of its own. He was stubbornly secretive, despite your efforts to pry. But he could hide only so much when you played the middleman.

Joel was a deliberate man, always having a response, but he was struggling with the creeping feeling of desperation. He was trying to find control and only offered a hardened look, jaw moving with thought.

“You thinking of killing me?” Your sarcasm responded to his silence.“C’mon, make it worthwhile…” Joel handled resistance with brute force, but you only looked to sweeten the deal. “...strawberries are coming into season.”

“Fine.” He was reluctant but agreed.

Yet, you couldn’t help but instigate. “Throw in some ration cards.”

“Stop fuckin’ around.” Joel’s frustration had come to a boiling point. “It’s about Tess.”

“Shit, Joel…” You hadn’t meant to make light of the situation, but your tone couldn’t help but carry humor. “Why didn’t you start with that?”

You weren’t always privy to their business, but you noted the uneasiness when either went without the other. Maybe you romanticized their lives or just had a general lack of understanding of the risks involved in smuggling. There was a creative aspect to your work, fantasies of the various messages that created worlds outside your own to exist in, even if only transient.

It helped at times. It helped that you could remove your emotions from it and not get attached to what would be on the receiving end. But a part of you left when the messages did. The frequency of the radio was set as you worked. Joel’s words were to the point; they’ll be waiting for you. He told you Tess would know what it meant, but you weren’t naive to the looming threat.

What if it were too late? What then?

Joel wished you hid your emotions better. Maybe then you could make it in this world. You carved space for yourself the same way the other survivors had. You had to. Sometimes you questioned if you were still human with how you could be bribed into just about anything. That was your law, a rule you could abide by—something comprehensive in a broken world. It was how you had gotten this job, and if you played things right, your way out too.

But you were still human, becoming fond of those you shouldn’t have. Playing favorites. Joel knew the advantage he had. Your ambiguous heart was on your sleeve. What you wanted was clear, even if most of those things fell out of reach.

Bill, and in turn Tess, would receive the message, and Joel seemed satisfied with your work. But he loitered for a moment inspecting the patrolling below. There was something about him breaking curfew that you envied.

You tried to bargain with him once, asking for a favor instead of ration cards.

Take me out. You had practically begged him. You thought the adrenaline of something like that would disrupt your routine in the most delectable way possible. But he refused, ignored the request entirely.

Joel compromised, gathering any empathy to bring you the strawberries Frank had wrapped in parchment. They were meant for him, something to reflect the growing friendship. But Joel passed them along to you. The exchange had nothing to do with his work or yours. It was a silent act, passing them along during another night of a broken curfew.

You had made a witty comment then, but in retrospect, you wished you had thanked him. Maybe if you had, Joel would have brought you along for the next harvest. For now, you settled with the impromptu visits with limited conversation.

“You’re welcome.” You called to him just before he could slip away.

Again, Joel hesitated with you. It was becoming a pattern easily recognizable; his desire to distance himself as if he were supposed to. He looked at you, seeing how relaxed you were. It was charming in a way, but the twinge of anxiety reminded him of the reality. You were an easy mark.

“Use this next time.” Joel tossed the knife from his pocket your way. It was a quick fix to the thoughts of you alone for the rest of the night. “Might actually be able to draw some blood.”

—

Joel didn’t like that you knew where he lived. He wasn’t necessarily hiding, but he preferred visits on his terms. You were sprawled in his favorite armchair, its back toward the window— even the possibility of an intrusion would have irritated him had he thought of it.

“So it was true.” Joel held back a proper greeting once you noticed he’d returned. “You were behind this.”

He lacked originality in his interrogation. You could predict now that every question you’d received concerned confidential information and the hopes of exposing it, just like all the others. They wanted to know how they were crossed and where to find them as if you were the one with the crystal ball.

“You really think it was me?” You prompted him with agitation. “Not the sleazy guy with the ponytail?”

Robert wasn’t smart enough to be behind this but was dumb enough to be a part of it. Joel looked into every one of your words for clues. He knew you would be omitting things intentionally.

You knew something. You held onto it tightly as if you were guilty. Joel wouldn’t be surprised if you were. The shifts at night relieved you of interacting with the more dangerous people of the city. However, your services still attached you to the world that they occupied.

“Did he say something to you?”

“Yeah, sweet nothings...” Part of you hoped to see jealousy cross Joel’s face, but you knew better. You frowned. “...What difference would it make?”

All the difference.

Your remark fell on absent but not deaf ears. He replayed the previous night's events, looking for something he was missing. Joel was double-crossed, not something entirely uncommon, but the tip-off came from the fact that he favored nights spent with you.

They’d shown up looking like any other guys in the city; dirt etched in every wrinkle, exhaustion always their companion, and profit dictating every decision. They treated you like you were his. You caught whispers of how their boss instructed them against marking you, knowing that only begged for the boogeyman to find them.

“Lyin’ doesn’t suit you.” Joel read you well, and you resented the fact.

Deep down, you were worried they’d follow through with their promise of returning. It was why you waited for Joel to return from whatever work he picked up for the day; you couldn’t rely on the off-chance he’d come looking for you a past curfew during your shift.

“They took my knife–your knife.” You sighed, your leg restless to work out any remaining adrenaline. “I’ll replace it.” The promise was weak, but you needed to shift the topic. “What was it worth two–maybe three– ration cards?”

Joel was backlit with the warm lamp, tempted to stay quiet against your misplaced joke. “And what’s that got to do with this?”

“Nothing,” You know your smile was coy, only to fuel Joel’s aggravation, “I’m trying to flirt.”

Everything felt clumsy. You felt out of place, but your feet had led you to his door. His apartment was bare, dust littering the crevices as no one had lived there. There were some remnants of Joel throughout, but nothing you were happy with finding. There were empty bottles and torn newspapers on the windows, and everything you touched felt cold.

“You could have told me.”

“You could have asked.” Your retort felt childish; you just didn’t know what to say anymore. “Look–You can’t be upset.” The claim was flimsy. “I bought you some time.”

They wanted to know where Joel kept his supply. You could have pointed them in the right direction, but your ethics were becoming inverted, polluted by growing attachment. You created a buffer, a slight goose chase, but the bruises below Joel’s eye proved they’d gotten to him in the end.

“You want a thank you? That it?”

Yes. If anyone found out that information was bought off you, everything you had would be compromised.

“I did you a favor.” You began to defend yourself. But you suppressed your vulnerability with something you were selfishly familiar with. “You owe me.”

Joel’s scoff held more humor than intended. Your eyes tracked how he needed a drink to hear what you had in mind. He hadn’t even bothered pouring you a glass as he drank straight from the bottle. The day was long, with too many twists and turns that drained him. Joel was moments from kicking you out.

“Frank wants to meet me.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Joel thought this was another lie, a deception to get him pliable. Yet, the message you got from Frank was clear. I want to meet the rabbit stealing from my garden. It made you nervous that your voyeuristic position was broken, you now the person the message was intended for. But it planted an excitement in your stomach that only Joel could provide a path for.

Another swig, another beat of silence.

“Your poutin’ ain’t gonna change my mind.” Joel waited for you to lunge with anger. However, you sat there as if your heart had been ripped from your chest. “You sold me out and expect a favor  from me.” You were getting sick of him scoffing. “That’ll be the day.”

“You’d rather I’d fend for myself?” You were baiting him; you wanted to fight, knowing it was the only way to get anything close to what you wanted.

“You’ll have to.”

On his nightstand, the bottle full of pills laughed at Joel. It helped with insomnia, but the anxious feeling followed him regardless of the dosage. You weren’t the sole reason he couldn’t shake the dread, but you hadn’t helped either. If there was one thing he could maybe control, it was you. You meant something to him outside of conventional affection. It’s what drew him in just to be burned.

“Stand up.”

“What?” You laughed. His expression had only deepened, one that never left his face and spoke for his exhaustion. “Joel, c’mon—” He wouldn’t repeat himself again. So you decided to entertain the request. “Alright…”

“Alright.” He repeated. He looked afraid to touch you directly. With a booted foot, he tapped at your own. “You need a wider stance than that.” Part of you expected to be thrown across the room. “Stand up straight.”

“I am.” You sighed. Joel was backlit with the warm lamplight, adjusting your stance, still not content with you not taking it seriously. “All this just to fight me?”

Good enough, he thought. With a hand held steady, as if ready for a gun’s recoil, Joel nodded at his palm. “Go on.”

You knew not to tuck your thumb away. The stance you took reflected years of self-defense. But Joel wanted you to learn how to cause damage. You needed to shift your weight to swivel with more intention.

“Are you done proving your point?” You asked. Joel had you repeat your actions until the palm of his hand stung.

“For now.” Joel returned to his bottle. It dwindled, but it had yet to take the desired effect. 

You would have continued if he'd asked. You wanted him to. There wasn’t a reason for you to move closer to him beside your desire. You knew invading his space only meant one of two things; either he’d return the favor of the damage you caused him or do what you’ve been pathetically yearning for. Or the unlucky third option that only involved rejection.

You loved to push your luck.

“I told Frank we’ll set out in a week.” You distracted him from your confession, moving your hands between his shoulder blades. It was a way to get Joel's full attention.

Joel let you explore for a moment. He was begrudgingly curious to know what your touch felt like outside of the unintentional contact when handing you a note or striking his hand. He knew what he should be doing, how he should— would have reacted with anyone else.

But he couldn’t bring himself to touch you in that way.

Joel indulged in every twitch and expression of your body language once he faced you. He hoped it would expose you, but he found nothing but poise. You were enjoying yourself, enjoying being watched by him.

"M’not changing my mind."

“Please, Joel…” You spoke low as if the neighbors would hear. You hadn’t even wanted to hear yourself, knowing your desperation. “...can’t you play favorites for once?”

“That’s a trick question.” His facade had slipped. His response was a second too quick, making a warmth trickle throughout your chest.

Your ears rang at the admission. His words filled the room and stuck like honey.

He was always thinking. Joel was intentional; everything was thought out, and if it wasn’t, he was still level-headed. It wasn’t hard to recognize his behavior patterns; he knew what he was doing. Finally, though, everything became a second thought as you reached him with intent, tilting his chin to expose his neck.

“Easy.”  His warning highlighted his drawl while he caught your wrist.

The grip was loose, allowing your intentions to continue. Joel’s fingertips were warm as you grasped them softly. Before your hand could wrap around his, it was held by one of Joel’s, the maneuver tightening the warm hold he was creating. His skin pricked. Your touch tickled him, but he leaned into it fully. Joel was used to touch hurting or leading to something that hurt.

He didn’t look at you as he turned your hand over in his, focusing instead on your palm as he ran his thumb over the lines of your smoother skin. Joel’s head remained bowed, his face hidden from you. He wanted to carry his affection to the grave without letting it surface. But he couldn’t deny that it was true and slowly killing him.

There’s hesitation on both your part, the shy kind that managed to bring down even the strongest man. Yet, Joel came to realize his mistake.

“Enough of that.” His face hardened into a practiced expression. “Don’t.” His grip was tighter, just shy of hurting you. “I’m not doin’ that.”

Joel had fallen into your trap, misunderstanding your touch as an unorthodox payment to bring you to Frank’s. Everything had to be business with you in his eyes. The decision was already made to bring you despite his resistance, but this solidified that his act of so-called kindness wasn’t for you.

It was for Frank’s sake. At the moment, Joel couldn’t look at you the same, knowing he could only have you like this. His anger blurred your intention; you wanted to bring him closer to confirm your admiration, but it morphed into something it was never meant to be.  That third option snuck up on you, rejection making your heart swell until it sunk into your stomach. You caught a glimpse of tenderness just to be replaced with disgust.

[celestie0]

Love love love ihm and just want to understand why y/n is so panicked about ‘getting caught’. Is getting married for insurance illegal? Ik it’s a bit taboo to question a story lol, but just trying to follow along better! Totally fair if it’s a made up plot device ofc

I’m so excited to see how the story goes, you’re very talented ❤️

hi bb oh not at all i am more than happy to explain anything haha! plus you're so respectful ab it so dw

yes yes so first off i think ihm reader in general has a little bit of a paranoid personality haha. there's been a couple times in ihm where this is alluded to w the difference in her reactions to certain things vs the people around her (like in ch2 when her coworker asks her why she's so paranoid ab everything all the time like getting a medical lawsuit, and when gojo is like who tf is out there tryna sabotage our fake marriage, or sumn like that) but i think that's just kind of how she's grown to be with trust issues and living in constant fear

but yes at least where i live (usa) it is illegal to get married for purely just spousal benefits!! like for example to get an american citizenship or for insurance or tax benefits. in ihm's case, it would be marital fraud as well as insurance fraud. in the research i've done for the series, i know that marital fraud is tough to prove, but there are certain ways that an investigation can prove it, such as: inconsistent statements from both parties, no evidence of relationship prior to the marriage, suspicious timings (for example when someone's visa is expiring or in reader's case in ihm, her mother's illness has progressed), testimony and witness from others close to the alleged couple (that's why her messing up her story in front of her neighbors and also her neighbors not even knowing she had married gojo was a big red flag to choso) etc etc

as for the consequences of getting convicted, i think this part in ihm ch3 kinda lays it out:

"You know the U.S. federal codes in the law for marital & insurance fraud like the back of your hand, since you read through them hundreds of times before deciding if your little arrangement with Gojo would be worth it. 8 U.S.C. 1033 and 18 U.S.C. 371 provide for a penalty of up to ten years in prison for insurance fraud. And under that statute, you can also be fined up to $250,000. The best case scenario is that you just have to divorce Gojo, and forfeit your chances of ever recovering from your crippling debt."

and then obviously in addition to financial penalties, a criminal record can lead to more disadvantages later in life, like issues getting employed, disqualification from certain welfare systems, reader could also potentially lose her nursing license, her insurance claims could be denied and that would lead to abrupt loss of health care for her mother...soooo yea there's some more stuff i looked into too hahah but these are just some reasons to name a few as to why she is very paranoid about it

hope this helps to explain!! <3 much love

[demonsfate]

not only all the parallels "Jin" had with Devil in TK6, but like... the parallels Devil had with "Jin" in TK8.

with both the Chair thing, the level, Devil's outfit being a more demonic version of "Jin's" TK6 outfit. They had it ALL set up to easily say that Devil was in control during TK6, he just lied about a buncha crap. Then in TK8, Devil's pissy and wants control back, so he lures Jin into their Mindscape for one final fight for control. The stage being his office from TK6 is so that Devil reminds Jin what he "took" from him, and also serves as Jin feeling guilty for being too weak to stop Devil from taking over the Zaibatsu. Therefore, in TK8, Jin has to go up against the two true dark stars that brought the world to its knees in TK6-TK8. (his Devil and Devil Kazuya).

This would've fixed Jin's character much better than what TK8 did. This would've fixed Jin being a war criminal, fixed Jin being a "bad main character," fixed Jin's drastic inconsistent characterization, fixed why everyone is Suddenly buddies with Jin. It just would've fixed everything regarding Jin's character and story, as well as TK6 and TK8's stories. (Since Jin's characterization played a big part in them)

You could ask "well it was clearly Jin in control in TK6 because when did Jin take over from Devil?" Again, just make up some BS that Jin was able to take control during the struggle with Azazel, that at last minute, Jin took back the body. I mean, that's a very minor retcon compared to the bigger retcons the games did. (Heihachi now being a Devil Hunter / hating the devil gene for noble reasons huh? The Devil Gene being nothing more than a PROTECTIVE NATURE for the carrier??? HUHHHH???) And Jin can still go through TK8 feeling guilty, this time his guilt just comes from feeling too weak to stop Devil. He feels Devil was his responsibility due to them possessing the same body.

And plus like, yes, I know Devil in TK8 parallels with "Jin" because they changed Devil to be a representation of Jin's guilt about his war crimes (LOL!) But like... that just messes up Devil's character because Devil's been with Jin since his creation (as a character) so like, Jin's had many struggles with Devil before TK6. So to just reduce him to a TK6 metaphor regarding Jin's guilt..... Sucks, man. He used to be more than that. So him paralleling TK6 would've done better for his character if he was an actual villain in TK6, and really fucked Jin over.

I cannot say if the team of writers or Harada considered retconning TK6 like that, I really don't know. But like, I really do feel like they [Harada primarily] was just stubborn. Because Harada really wanted to make Jin a villain but only changed that when literally nobody in the studio or fanbase agreed with it. Therefore, he just refuses to retcon it, to say "no, JIn didn't actually do that". Even though it fundamentally harms the story, and Jin's character severely.

[shsunderland]

Hey! I heard the news about the game! I'm just here to say my thanks, because lord knows this community has been waiting for something new for years now. You tackling an entire game is admirable and I only wish the best of luck for you!

------

Anyways, since you wanted plot holes, I'll drop some here for you:

● Dusekkar doesn't know Scriptliss is in his trash can.

● Antagon kinda caused a war and killed someone but only got a month's worth of community service. (I'd either lessen his crimes or actually make him face the consequences)

● While on that topic, how did Antagon even steal the plot book anyway?

● Plus, how did Antagon learn of Scriptliss? And why didn't he do anything with him when he released him in the first place?

● How did Scriptliss end up in the middle of a forest when he got released?

● Tucker doesn't have a reason for why he wants to infiltrate Rozanda's ship.

● Antagon has no established motivation. He also lacks consistency. (Naive enough to not realize he's harming people while simultaneously starting a war to "cut short the supply of able-bodied soldiers...")

● Antagmom doesn't know her son is a war criminal.

● Dusekkar wasn't there for Tess' death and got the news in a random shop. Not a plot hole, just something really weird.

● The inconsistencies of the people who know the sages. ----> Scriptliss knows Lanter is a sage but doesn't know that his best friend, Tess, is a sage. ----> Otempes spontaneously gained the knowledge that the third door shouldn't be opened, and he knows Tess?? ----> The dialogue is weird and made it seem like Dusekkar only knows Lanter is a sage and not the others. Personally, I'd just simplify it so that only the sages know other sages, and maybe Dusekkar knows them all. It makes no sense for Scriptliss to know the sage thing about Lanter after meeting him just once.

● Literally, what is Cogen. Mind reading how??

● The villain's motivation and them not questioning the fact they're working for a child.

● Aristris being down for killing Tretone and not facing jail time for it.

● Tretone died and they turned his dead body into a fucking Christmas tree lol

● Scriptliss performing in a concert shortly after Tess' death. Also... they invited the villains to play as well... They should all be in jail.

That's about all I can think of.

------

Also, regarding your theory about Lanter. I think you're pretty spot on! But also, I'd like to think it was a culmination of things that ruined their relationship, maybe something as simple as them having different ideologies and that slowly growing into bigger and bigger disagreements. The dethroning of the old gods was probably the last straw.

I feel that Lanter's thing with Equinox needs a big of tweaking by the way. After all, Lanter denounced Equinox in the same sentence that he said he sided with him. So it would be odd that he'd hate Dusekkar because of Equinox even though he himself doesn't like Equinox either. Hope that makes sense!

------

Make the game 2d. That's all I have to say regarding that.

------

Sorry for the long message, it took me a bit to get this all down. I hope you have a nice time working on the game, I know these things can be difficult, especially with the source material being as convoluted as it is. Good luck! And stay strong, you have my blessing! 💪

Ohh mmyyyy godd tysm for this message actually Ive been having trouble getting all the plot holes together 🙏 i can’t promise that ill fill spr plot holes bc the game im planning on doing is before spr but ill try to do smth 🫡

Also yeah tackling an entire game is probably an insane idea for me but honestly as someone who has absolutely loved paper roblox ever since 2016 im a bit excited to actually start working on it.

It probably will take me a really long time too (i mean i am asking a family member who is skilled at using blender and roblox studio but still) but ty for the blessings and also the list of plot holes 🙏❤️

[traffic-light-eyes]

You asked for more asks so I shall ask: If there was one thing about Ninjago you would change....what would it be? (it can a character, story element (lol), a season, etc)

Ah, man, this is a toughie.

Obviously, I generally really liked the show! I mean, I made an entire side blog for it, so I had to have liked it lol

But since you asked, if I had the option, I'd really prefer to have consistency! Everything just jumps and jumbles around, and sometimes, events that happen just happen and are never mentioned again. Or, the rare occasion where the canon events don't line up (see below). I don't know about you, but it also just really bothered me when some things weren't mentioned in the plot, and I only later realized them (Ultra Dragon's passing).

The most annoying instance:

HARUMI!!! Her backstory is all kinds of messed up and not aligned with canon events at ALL. It just bugs me so, so, so much.

Another instance (still Harumi somehow. And I like Harumi's character, so this upsets me a lot that she seems to be more consistent at being inconsistent than being consistent):

In Crystalized, when she gathered up all the criminals of the past for her Crystal Court or whatever it was called and fuckin' Pythor was there. Her whole character was to get payback for the Great Devourer??? So she went after the ninja???? But PYTHOR, the snake who summoned the dang beast, was spared from her wrath??????? I just don't get it, man.

Another another instance (this is starting to feel like Harumi bashing, i prommy it's not):

Tell me why she was mad at Lloyd for not looking in the rubble for her. That is NOT her character. I don't care if they're trying to push the "Oh I'm in love with him but I'm in denial cause im upset oh nooooo *swoons*" it's just NOT her character. She's rageful and unforgiving and brutal. She kidnapped Lloyd multiple times and killed his friends in front of him TWICE. Why tf would she get mad at HIM for not looking for her. If you think he's so bad, such a terrible person, why would you assume he'd look for you???

Yeah, this kinda turned out to be harumi bashing, but holy crap does it get my blood boiling. I love Harumi. She's very fascinating, and I love toying with her character, so when she's set up so horribly, it makes me upset. I just wish it was consistent, man lol

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV 2022 - My Top 10 Reactors (2024)

Disclosure: I'm a diehard Louis-stan & Claudia's self-appointed pro bono lawyer. I'm also Loustat OTP shipper, who loves giving Lestat a hard time, cuz he deserves it.

FrankFreezy (S1 & S2 complete)

Olurinatti Pop! (S1 & S2 complete)

What R U Doing Bree (S1 & S2 complete)

AvatarAdrian (S1 & S2 complete)

ShalayahHomebody TV (up to 2x6 as of Dec 2024)

PettyPumpkins (S1 & S2 complete)

Syntell (S1 & S2 complete)

Bird Calls (S1 & S2 complete)

FoxTaco (S1 & S2 complete)

Nikki and Amber TV (S1 & S2 complete)

#1: FrankFreezy (S1 & S2 complete)

My vibe check always looks at how reactors respond to Lestat (S1) & Armand (S2), vs Louis & Claudia. I deeply appreciate how Frank's videos are even longer than the eps themselves, cuz he actually takes time to THINK. He won my heart when he said he identifies with Louis the most (he even painted a beautifully sensitive portrait of LDPDL), cuz he'd seen abusive relationships IRL, and was able to recognize certain power imbalances & toxic behavior cuz of his personal experiences. He can equally defend Louis & Claudia, AND rightly call them out when they act out of pocket (esp. Louis); not from a place of hatred or racism or ageism or bad faith gotchas, but cuz he KNOWS. He likes Louis' moments of self reflection, cuz he himself has been hated by people he's mistreated in the past, too. Frank's introspective response to S2 (esp. 2x8) was the purest, rawest response I've ever seen from a reactor. You HAVE to rewatch this show, and PAY ATTENTION to the deeper meanings & messages & lessons. NO, Lou & Claud are not angels, they do problematic effed up things. But the show's not about crucifying them (a la the Trial); it's about exploring how trauma & abuse affects people, and affects relationship/family dynamics in complex & messy ways. Frank just has such emotionally mature takes, it's really refreshing, when so many reactors are surface-deep.

#2: Olurinatti Pop! (S1 & S2 complete)

My QUEEN. A criminal defense lawyer IRL, Olay takes not a drop of BS from Louis, his garbage family, Armand, and ESPECIALLY not from Lestat. Despite being the embodiment of Claudia's rage, Olay's HILARIOUS as she chews these ridiculous characters new arseholes, visibly trying to not strangle them through the frikkin screen. XD I fell in love with Olay when she swiftly pointed out the gendered/racial/power imbalances between Louis & everyone he interacts with as a closeted Black gay man during Jim Crow; and how Lestat's toxic AF color blindness inevitably led to gaslighting, manipulation, and abuse. I love Loustat, but I also appreciate having someone who can yank my rose-tinted glasses off & point out their flaws; urging us to be more critical of the BS being slung in our faces. Lestat Apologists vacate the premises immediately, cuz Olay is NOT playing with y'all.

#3: What R U Doing Bree (S1 & S2 complete)

Another Black female criminal justice/defense lawyer IRL (I have a type), Bree's a longtime Tumblrina with a very analytical way of processing the characters and episodes, that is equal parts smart and equal parts unhinged fangirl. She's a Daniel Molloy stan (complete with a lifesized cardboard cutout of Eric Bogosian, omfg, LOL), and lives for him calling out all the inconsistencies in Loumand's accounts. She also gives flowers to the other characters, meticulously allotting Brownie Points every time they do/say something she likes--which makes it fun to watch her and start knowing ahead of time what she'll give BPs to. Daniel & Claudia get the most flowers, and she enjoys Louis, which is crucial for me as a Loustan. Lestat had to grow on her after a few rewatches, and she now fondly calls him her "dumb son," LOL.

#4: AvatarAdrian (S1 & S2 complete)

I LOVE having a Black gay man's reactions to this show, omg. Adrian's recaps are so dang FUNNY--he lives for ALL the mess. Most importantly, he stays ready to clock Lestat and his busted "George Washington" colonizer behavior, and I'm here for it! Adrian's Team Loumand, so I can't, but I get it, cuz Lestat.

#5: ShalayahHomebody TV (up to 2x6 as of 11/20/24)

My original favorite IWTV reactor, Shalayah just calls ish out like she sees it. I love myself a good ranter who can just go AWF on fools (esp. Lestat), no holds barred. IRL/technical stuff slowed Shalayah down a lot, and she hasn't finished S2 yet, so I ended up lowering her on my list, but Shalaya's so freaking awesome awesome--funny & here for all the tea and mess. She even made watching Mayfair Witches fun, as she dragged everyone for filth.

#6: PettyPumpkins (S1 & S2 complete)

I've learned to avoid white reactors in this fandom, cuz too many of them are either complaining book purists or just blatant racists. But Petty Pumpkins are absolute darlings. They are funny and love mess & drama, but are also so sensitive & sweet; when they cry I cry. They absolutely love Claudia, and immediately clocked Armand as the snake he is--Armand Apologists beware, cuz they WILL call y'all out during their reactions.

#7: Syntell (S1 & S2 complete)

Two HBCU educated articulate Black reactors who know about the history of the Black experience in America, they immediately & authentically & candidly talk to the racial things Louis experiences in a way VERY FEW reactors ever do in this out-of-touch fandom--THAT PART! Their videos are longer cuz they talk more, with a dedicated commentary/discussion section after each ep. I like Syntell (the man--an Armand stan) way more than M.Claire (the lady--a Lestan, who hated the S3 promo). Syntell pays attention WAY more, and catches on to themes & messages & layers quicker, and his takes are so good. But they bounce well off of each other. Neither of them cared for S1 Claudia much, but M.Claire really didn't like her.

#8: Bird Calls (S1 & S2 complete)

These ladies are fun to watch--a bit lighter on the commentary, but heavy on the micro/macro-expressions. They were NOT here for Loustat, but the difference with their take on 1x5/1x6 that put them above FoxTaco for me is that they're here for CLAUDIA and her liberation, rather than being sour cuz it wasn't fun watching abused!Louis rather than BAMF!Lestat. I esp. like Resha (afro); she has that quick snazzy personality that I just really vibe with, as she catches things hella fast & has zero time for BS--she instantly clocked Armand as a p.o.s. in 1x7 and I was ROLLING. She talks more than Akaya (beanie), and mostly everything she says is exactly what I was thinking.

#9: FoxTaco (S1 & S2 complete)

TBH Taco makes me mad sometimes, cuz S1 was Louis' story, and in 1x6 he was way too callous & insensitive when he outright said he didn't care about seeing Louis' depression, like...? Wrong show, my guy. 😅 But when he's tuned in, he's on point a lot of the time, which makes his rich commentary valuable & insightful, even when I don't agree with his takes. I know I'll enjoy him more in S3, when his attitude as a Lestan fits better with a show focusing on Lestat's experiences & personality rather than Louis'.

#10: Nikki and Amber TV (S1 & S2 complete)

Entertaining and engaging, but it frustrates me sometimes when they miss things, but not bother to rewind and go back to better understand what they're watching. I get wanting to do blind 1st time watches/reactions, the show must go on, but I wish they spent more time afterwards/during on reviewing with commentary; cuz when they do talk more they have such good points to make, and I love hearing their perspectives as two parents.

[skybluesprinkle]

welcome to my digital diary sweeties! just a little bit about me;

love tvd and the originals obvi, pll, gossip girl, alice in borderland, desperate housewives, derry girls, criminal minds

current watches: the oc and sex and the city

love films especially wildchild, 10 things i hate about you, shes the man, how to lose a guy in 10 days,crazy stupid love, to all the boys i loved before, angus thongs and perfect snogging, waves, dead poets society, forest gump, dinner in america

love music but have no particular favourites, my music genre really depends on the day so im going to name my playlists lol; 2000-10 rock songs, lana is mother, clubbing like its 2000s , jhene aiko etc. (just cause i like to lana doesnt mean i need to know every single one of her unreleased songs lol) and i love a cheeky glee cover

love creating new things

warning: VERY inconsistent aesthetic

[lemonhemlock]

I'm probably one of the few who finds the bits we got from Aegon as a character—while "inconsistent", disorganized and tonally a whirlwind—compelling, fascinating and worth inspecting and exploring (and maybe romanticizing and sexualizing :P). And this includes the textual sexual violence, and the heavily implied child sexual assault (whether pedophilic in nature or not aside for now). And though I understand people creating a fanon version expunging these sociopsychologically horrific, and fictionally hard to stomach aspects of his character, I can't say I even want to! I find him compelling because of these aspects, wanting the presentation of it may be for now.

His narrative, arc, symbolism and themes, and not to mention TGC's performance so far, are all just too compelling for me to pass on! Obviously biased, but frankly it's difficult to believe someone would read f&b and not realize the potential of his character and the entailing entertainment... On this note, I do have to say I find the complaints of certain fandom parts (they happen to be Aegon stans, and both team green and team black) about the choice to centre Alicent (both in the narrative and in Aegon's life) pretty disagreeable. It's wack, trite, and bitter. There are clear timeline oopsies and confusions due to the changes, and behind the complaints are genuine arguments to be made for an Update House of The Dragon that could have been, but the game ain't always fair... Just accept you are stanning a minor character, cast villain, stuffed like a pigeon with turkey filling, and eat your 10 minutes of beady eyed screentime. And just make everything about him? When someone takes a sip of wine, it's secretly about Aegon btw. All windows are about Aegon, when they are not about Alicent. Every dragonbond is secretly about Aegon/Sunfyre if you squint hard enough, George told me himself.

I think the major reasons why he comes off as deeply unlikable to the casual viewers (not even addressing the green/black tribalism for now) are due to unflattering framing and POVs that position him as either a gross nuisance, obstacle or clear antagonizing force. Some of this is due to needing certain characters covering certain aspects of a certain themes. How do the royals treat their servants? Good—bad is a big spectrum. Sexual violence is on it, and it happens to fall into Aegon's realm. And while considering the many other unflattering characteristics, u could argue this is overkill or unfair to Aegon, I gotta counter that's a deficient way of looking at fictional narratives. This character-lasered reading misses the forest for the trees. Not every character has to be likeable, relatable, or sympathetic from the get-go. And honestly, I think the many atrocities Aegon is collecting like Pokemon balls to be amusing and kinda compelling.

In another narrative, a character like Aegon's would b a byronic obsession in someone's romantic/gothic story, or a horror villain, or a god harassing poor mortal souls. There are very fun bits and pieces stuck in this guy and even in this age of many studios bucketing under fanbacklash, a guy can just hope the writers find him worthwhile enough a character. And rant into ur lovely inbox ofc.

And at the end of the day, people are just not gonna like a guy LOL. No amount of screentime or birthing scenes or dragonriding can make me find Rhaenyra compelling, and no lack thereof can make me find Alicent, Helaena, or Baela less compelling, speaking of female hotd characters only.

Okay almost.

Being they plan to introduce golden boy turned war criminal Daeron, I believe a both fun and horrific decision would be to make him compassionate towards Aegon's plights and woes and thus give the audience an entry into sympathizing with Aegon, which the writers clearly want us to do, all interviews and panels considered, cope and seethe as I have!

Are we even going to get a Daeron/Greenfam interaction? LOL What a deeply unserious show.

I would like to start off by thanking you for leaving such an interesting ask in my inbox! I think this conversation is a little overdue, since there’s been perhaps an emergence of the school of thought (lol) that suggests that greens upset or critiquing Aegon’s extra dark portrayal in the show are somehow whitewashing him or woobifying him. IMO that fundamentally showcases a divergence in people’s priorities in storytelling and how they interact with this fictional universe. I, myself, am very intrigued by dark!Aegon in fics and most of the works I enjoy tend to deal with taboo topics, so it’s a little unfair to paint everyone with the same dismissive brush.

However, I’m not just a HotD show watcher, I have been engaging with ASOIAF one way or another for over a decade now and I think I can mount a workable interpretation of how this series operates. One of the reasons I actually love it so much is because it has internal thematic logic and because, generally speaking, the characters that inhabit it are appropriately rewarded or sanctioned by the narrative (or at least it seems to be heading in this direction re: its endgame). Believe it or not, I was thinking of answering this ask by ranting about Ned Stark, but I decided not to, because we’d be here all day. 😅

Anyway, point is that I’m not very willing to sacrifice that aspect for the sake of character exploration that contradicts with the main themes and messages of the story. People are certainly free to disagree with me on this, of course. 

I imagine it is a tricky business for authors, trying to decide exactly which and how much of a flavour of awful to assign to a character without ruining the rest of the story. Some might start with an outline or a feel for where they want the story to go, but, if you happen to create a character that veers off your intended path or seems to write itself in a direction you never planned for, it would be honest for you as a writer to acknowledge that and accommodate that accordingly in your story. Which isn’t truly a possibility here, as we need the characters to hit certain beats in the narrative and, ideally, they should do it in a believable way. This is often a problem I have found with Fire and Blood and lord knows I’ve already dissected it enough times here, if anyone cares to take a gander - the fact that characters are sometimes prevented to grow organically, because George needs them to perform certain actions in order to move the plot along. So, ideally, a good story would find a balance between these two scenarios. 

So to me my main anti-argument is that the Dance was never a story just about Aegon, this is not the exploration of a fucked-up psycho rapist and why he does the things he does and how he thinks the things he thinks. While that certainly might be an interesting avenue, I am not super convinced the Dance of the Dragons could offer the appropriate space in which that kind of exploration could be pursued in a satisfying manner. This is an ensemble piece, and while Aegon is an important part of it, he also exists in relation to other characters. This exaggerated degradation of his would inevitably bring down his entire “side” with him and that, in turn, ultimately throws off the balance of the entire story. 

Let’s stop for a minute and take a look at what they decided to go with in the show. Rhaenyra has consistently received the framing that her “mistakes” amount to (at most) victimless crimes (she is absolved from murdering Vaemond and the show makes no effort to explain the havoc caused by screwing up inheritance laws). Whereas what do we have for Aegon? 1. raping and terrorizing servants to the point of panic attacks; 2. enjoyer of the child-fighting sport; 3. implied sexual assault of children. This is beyond caricature. The addition that he enjoys watching his own children fight and that they file down their teeth to make them more formidable, stuff that wasn’t even in the books, is just downright infuriating. 

These are not traits you endow a character with because you’re interested in exploring the deep dark depths of human depravity. That task was always impossible in the first place with a character who has so little screen time anyway and I would argue it was never really a priority anyway. The intention was always to make Rhaenyra look good by comparison and that’s not something I can respect from a storytelling perspective. 

Note that this is the starting point for Aegon and Rhaenyra. This is supposed to show how they behave before the war, in a relatively stress-free situation, when they’re unburdened by war trauma and their family dying - explanations that could be given as reasons for their later ruthlessness. But nothing show!Rhaenyra (or even book!Rhaenyra) has ever done could ever hope to amount to the trifecta of awfulness that they assigned to show!Aegon. 

So, what exactly are we doing here? The point of Aegon and Rhaenyra as direct adversaries was always that they inhabit a similar plane. It’s not even about Aegon being likable or sympathetic, it’s about the fact that it separates him too much from Rhaenyra and it positively sanctifies Rhaenyra by comparison. You could certainly prefer one over the other, but their differences are meant to inspire conversation; they cannot be so completely removed from one another as to operate in different leagues of morality. If we monsterize Aegon too much, we don’t even have the space to properly explore that in the story and it would mess too much with the way his character needs to evolve in order to hit the particular narrative beats that George decided are set in stone. So giving him these massive transgressions as a starting point and turning him basically into the Antichrist throws the rest of his arc off balance for me and the thematic parallels become too off-kilter for me to be able to enjoy it. 

To me Rhaenyra’s story is very reminiscent of (white) feminism, very “rights for me but not for thee”: a rich, white, privileged woman fighting for her own advancement and not caring about the plight of anyone else. The Dance of the Dragons is meant to inspire conversation and debate, both on the legal front and on the political utilitarian front. Is male primogeniture fair, even if it maintains stability in the realm? Can we change that? How? Does shifting to simple primogeniture when it comes to royal succession engender progress in some way? Should royal succession reflect inheritance laws for the rest of the population? How are laws changed in a medieval common law system? Is it fair for the King to change laws however he wants, at the drop of the hat, or should the lords have some say? What can/should the King do if his vassals refuse to abide by his choices? When it comes to waging a destructive war to replace one “unworthy” candidate for the throne with another “unworthy” candidate, where do we place that on the moral spectrum? Is the population thriving/not dying in war more or less important than maintaining male primogeniture? Is it really worth it just to have a nominal female successor that won’t really bring about systemic change? These questions are really worth exploring and there are no straightforward answers to them, but if Aegon is Satan on Earth, none of these questions matter anymore, because Rhaenyra automatically becomes the better option and no price is steep enough to pay to get rid of Aegon. And the point never was that Rhaenyra would make a better ruler than Aegon or is even a better person than Aegon; trying to shoehorn her into that narrative only hurts the story overall.

There’s something to be said for the fact that in the last stages of the war, Aegon’s and Rhaenyra’s journeys inversely parallel each other: while Rhaenyra is rejected by the population and kicked out of King’s Landing while she’s occupying the Iron Throne, Aegon manages to convince people on Dragonstone to fight for him and he takes the castle with little resistance. There is something to be said for the fact that it’s Aegon who gets to kill Rhaenyra, not the other way around. That he’s the one who gets to live that little while longer. The author could have simply chosen for them to have one last battle and end up killing each other, but he doesn’t. And IMO we would not be able to get to that point in the story in a way that feels true and organic to the internal logic of this fictional universe if we corrupt Aegon’s development and make him so reprehensible to begin with.

TLDR: I take issue with HotD’s portrayal of Aegon in direct comparison with the text of Fire and Blood, but I am open to dark!Aegon explorations in fic. However, I do not feel like this is appropriate in canon, as it messes too much with the balance of the story and corrupts the wider themes and messages, both of the Dance of the Dragons and of the ASOIAF series in general.