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wrestlezon · 1 year

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aew dynamite 11/16/22 liveblog containment zone

startin' today's show like 45 mins late (again)

claudio & danielson vs jericho & sammy

is this a tornado tag bcc elbow time oh it was just them being wild, this is a regular tag match claudio is so strong. big lift i still need to buy the ppv… the idea of telling my friends to wait until its on the crimesites to see max become aew champ is pretty funny though itd be funny but theyd rip me limb from limb danielson lookin good and doing cool moves. im not a danielsonsuperfan (he doesnt do anything for me) but i can appreciate the man im glad he doesnt spraytan classic Baseball Bat Move sammy yelling at danielson again: "I hate you! i hate you so much" sorry last time was so fucking funny. "i hate you you stupid dragon" LMAO i love it when they do a forward roll into a tag. sometimes it feels so extraneous bullying danielson… claudio out here Tossing Guys around oooo bowens vs swerve is up next lmao i thought danielson was going to slam sammy into the cameraman. but no it was the corner post slam slammy danielson yes kicks! sammy biting all match cool lionsault by jericho crowd sounds weird. are they just quiet or are the mics off not that i blame them for not being hype for the nth bcc vs jas match mesmerized by claudio spinning jericho... woo the bcc win

video promo of moxley vs mjf

very cool. i liked moxley's evil laugh my friends are crooning about their favorite special guy mjf now

commercial…

darby short film

darby being a black and weird film weirdo is a cool thing. too bad about the everything else tho

backstage with lethal's crew and jeff jarrett is here too

theyre hooting and hollering

bowens vs strickland

we getting raps im hip and with the times and i understood the references to current events oh its music video time! lmfao stokely used up their dick word allowance for the rest of the year. itll be bleeps from now on that certainly was a rap. im nodding and clapping, max caster my friends pining for visual confirmation of maxwell and caster being the same room together

we starting the actual match off with looney tunes shouldertapping man bowens is good so is swerve. i love watching swerve wrestle throwing bowens right into the front row!! cool pose swerve. thanks oof. bloody lip pushups… aew fight forever game winning "best sports/racing game" at gamescom and i got confused and wondered why they put a racing segment in this wrestle game yeowch that arm kick swerve won! but did he kill bowen's shoulder… is there Lasting Effects...

video promo of jade vs nyla

i love the conflict between these two. tbs champion vs "tbs champion" is such a good bit. i hope nyla wins she is SO good on the mic and also funny. if nyla loses i will go insane. what else is there for jade to do!

samoa joe! promo in the ring

ring of honor time oh yeah he needs to explain himself for turning on wardlow huh i mean its pretty cut and dry. hes a serious tough guy and doesnt take any guff. why would he take guff from WARDLOW. hes SAMOA JOE oh! its powerhouse hobbs telling joe to get in line he's been kicking wardlow's ass this whole time! oh now its wardlow's turn to come out the classic sneak up from behind attack lmao the locker room runs out to stop them! not even bothering with security when samoa joe, powerhouse hobbs, and wardlow is involved wardlow slams all the security off him and the dark order are just like hmm actually go ahead we're not gonna stop you (this is good and i love the dark order) whoa cool flip out of the ring by wardlow

commercial... 2!!

backstage promo by britt baker

oh she mad doesnt baker have the uhhh owen hart championship thing? remember that? i forgot about it. it feels like its been a very long time since ive seen it serious britt baker dmd promo itt. preddy good

top flight + ar fox vs death triangle

oh HELL Yes im glad darius is back. im excited to see him wrestle! death triangle has SUCH a cool and stylish intro wow! arizona and san fran aew shows? :)c wrestling ar fox with the tumbling and rolls. hell yeah! hes smooth his ringpost flip has such movement on it pac just sits and they fling him into the air for ar fox's attack! that was a cool bit! death triangle triple team move on ar fox in retaliation ah its pip time. everyone chill down the commentators are goofing again penta jumping off the corner to do his special move: Ultimate Taint Dropkick the areola, or as taz likes to call it: the Dot on the Chest whoa loud kickhit on ar fox from penta the commentators are still being cheeky. taz: if youre 23 years old-- nothing should be rusty! EVER! top flight leapfrog moves :)c whoa that dante-flip-over-darius-dive move was cool i could barely perceive ar fox's insane top rope somersault nooo theyre gonna make ar fox take the pin?? hes cool though! well… i guess someone has to whoa rey fenix's insane tope pac's special move: Big Spinny Flip. and a pin! they win!

whoa. whats pac on about. is he talking bout the bucks oh! yep. its kenny and the bucks i was JUST thinking about how theyve been holding the belts for kenny and the bucks, but doing a great job of it because their matches rule oh!!!!!!!! theyre all having a match at full gear, not just a return! yay!!!!!!! the elite are back!!!

ethan page vs bandido

its ethan page! yay im glad hes gettin a push. i think hes cute, charismatic, and good on the mic. its also funny that hes such a heel because hes so dang cute bandido got a shiny aew logo on his tights whoa. bandido also very strong. what a slow lift even tony talking about bandido's big muscles. lmao ethan page gettin the big boos lmao the commentators having Height Talk excalibur telling a despondent taz "if you stand on your wallet, you're taller than us both" that was a cool bandido corner counter flip hes got good moves but loses in the end! ethan page time! we want to see a stokely vs mjf promo so bad. theyre both good talkers

promo about the jurassic express cagematch

backstage with saraya

saraya is tired chitchatting. she just wants to fight

commercial! 3

video promo of ortiz and kingston vs jun akiyama and konosuke takeshita!

im so excited for this match on friday :)c

toni storm vs anna jay

shame about the bunny gettin sick. i was really looking forward to that :( oh anna is bein goofy. hee hee someone in the crowd doing the longest yee haw ever oh thats why the crowd sounds so weird. crowds are usually chanting, right? the absence of chanting is odd wait there they are. toni! toni! toni! well, they tried. ok even the commentary are bored by this match theyre out here talkin bout crowd signs during the pip anna jay taps out to the texas cloverleaf! what the. hayter is approaching! toni bumps chests at her. cool

more match announcements

lee moriarty vs hook! athena vs madison rayne! lance archer vs ricky starks! the kingston/ortiz vs akiyama/takeshita match!

the full gear matches! aew champ, tag team champ, woman's champ, roh 4 way, tbs champ... darby n sting vs lethal and jarrett, britt baker vs saraya, samoa joe / wardlow / hobbs three way fight for that championship, trios match of death triangle vs the elite

in ring promo with jon moxley

huh! are they ending the show with a long promo, then? i dont think theres enough time for a match after i wonder whats going to happen then... will there be shenanigans? conflict?? interruptions??? my friends just want to see their guy who the hell is booing moxley in the crowd!!!! moxley you really are the baddest bitch in all the lands. go moxley "im messed up. im a sicko. i cant get enough of violence and fights. its not a good thing. im fucked up in the head" loving the idea of moxley typing out "mjf" into google to do research moxley got a point. mjf does not wrestle CALL HIM OUT MOXLEY!!!!!! MJF IS A WRESTLER COSPLAYER SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT MJF!!! lot for him to live up to-- oh!! its stokely!!! the firm is kicking moxley's ass mjf is here :)c oh my god he is so shaped. like dorito mjf kills everyone in the firm. actually that seemed almost too easy huh will? first name basis now huh? lol "you can make me bleed buckets" oh? bloody mjf at the ppv? pwease? :)c mjf is convincing me that he is sufficiently motivated for this belt oh mjf is using that "convincing the world the devil doesnt exist" bit to cover for him not wrestling a lot moxley takes the mic before mjf can finish his catchphrase oh my god moxley pausing to ask if the ppv is on sunday or saturday LMAO moxley rules nobody would be able to get away with being so nonchalant my friend pointed out at the end that mjf was wearing platforms... man's gotta be tall for the staredown

#livezon

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oh-katsuki · 3 years

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Golden Boy (Izuku x Reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Izuku x Reader

Summary: Izuku was a nice boy, except when it came to you. Yup, UA’s golden boy really knew how to treat a slut like you.

Content Warnings: Dubcon, slight noncon, dacryphilia, size kink, face fucking, overstimulation, creampie, degradation, humiliation, spit kink, choking, finger choking, pet names, ooc izuku

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: I got SCARY h-word over this man and decided that I literally wanted him to hurt me and spit in my mouth. He’s too nice to not be a fucking freak, goodbye.

Anyway, thank you to @eremiie , @mikaberries , and @veroyktv for beta-reading this!! I appreciate y’all !

Izuku tormented you all through high school. It was almost shameful to admit the way that his gentle teases melted into something far more sinister as the weeks bled into months and years. What started as subtle comments turned into outright taunts and then the contactless threats no longer remained empty.

No one believed you. And who would?

Izuku was a model student and a good friend, someone with a kind disposition who wanted nothing more than to become the greatest hero. What reason could he possibly have to bully you? You’d never done anything to him.

But he did. For three years he mercilessly taunted you and it only got worse your final year.

Izuku would pinch at your thighs, sneering at you in the hallways when no one was looking. He’d snake his hand up your skirt and squeeze the supple flesh hard enough to leave bruises that eventually littered the entire inside of your thigh. They looked incredibly vulgar and Izuku would torment you about it endlessly, despite knowing that he’s the one who left them.

He’d crowd you against the lockers after most people had gone home, knowing you’d be there late after your tutoring sessions.

“Tsk. Quite some marks you’ve got there.” He’d say, stepping up to you, his broad shoulders squared, a half smile creeping onto his face as his eyes studied the inside of your thighs. The marks littered the otherwise smooth skin, visible when looking at you from the front.

“You get them from slutting yourself out?” Izuku would ask, stepping toward you again. “Y’look like a bit of a whore, don’t you?”

He’d lean in close to your ear, venom seeping into each of his words as he cornered you. His hand crept up your skirt, eyes trained on yours which widened with fear as he pinched down, relishing in the yelp of pain that escaped you.

You wondered how someone like Izuku could make you feel so small and so insignificant.You couldn’t even bat his hand away as he made a fool of you, pinching at the inside of your leg with thick, calloused, and scarred fingers. It didn’t matter how tall or strong you were because it always seemed that Izuku was bigger, domineering in attitude and words. He really did know how to reduce you to a helpless thing.

It seemed Izuku was growing more desperate by the day as graduation gradually crept closer. It was like he made less of an effort to hide it, blowing into your ear and whispering vile shit to you while in class, things that would make anyone squirm in their seat. He’d start bumping into you, singling you out, making an effort to get you noticed by his friends so he could have you as a little plaything whenever they hung out.

And you let him. You let him make a toy out of you, tagging along with Iida, Uraraka, and Asui on Saturday outings, letting Izuku pinch and prod at you from across a restaurant table.

The truth was, Izuku Midoriya fucking terrified you.

So you couldn’t say no to him. To everyone else you looked like nothing more or less than one of his many admirable friends. Promising quirk and a promising future, what a match for UA’s golden boy.

You were at your wits end and by the time graduation rolled around. No one listened to you. Hell, people often brushed off Izuku’s very genuine threats as classic childhood teasing. “You’re such a good sport!” they’d say as Izuku patted your back, laughing an all too cheery “just kidding!”

How were you supposed to focus on graduation day, all dolled up in your cap and gown, unwilling to admit to yourself that maybe it was for him? Still, you found yourself automatically flinching whenever Izuku came around, eyes following him across the lawn as he ignored you in favor of photos. Izuku had a promising job offer waiting for him, and his many awards won during the ceremony earned him several congratulatory handshakes as well as pictures for the school’s newsletter.

Still, he’d catch your eye when smiling for the camera, an all to familiar glint in them. His smile made you sick to your stomach, made it churn in the worst of ways. It was doing back flips as he stalked across the lawn towards you until his sturdy frame was against yours. He leaned down, lips brushing beside your ear to whisper one final taunt.

“It’s a shame you’re not wearing that little skirt of yours,” Izuku breathed, eyes flitting over the cap and gown. “Would have liked to pinch those skank thighs of yours one last time. S’what you deserve.”

And then he stood there, watching the way tears began to crowd your waterline, threatening to spill over as three years of tormentation came to what felt like an underwhelming head. Izuku tilted his head, watching the way water stained your made-up cheeks, before taking his thumb and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Don’t cry, doll.” He taunted, voice far too sweet for the words that fell from his lips. “I’m not near done with you yet.”

Why was his tone so comforting? So confusing that you weren’t sure if it was dread or relief that filled your senses, ears suddenly feeling clogged with water. Your eyes darted from his to anyone on the lawn who could see you, who might be watching as Izuku pushed you to tears with only a few words, until you caught Bakugou’s gaze.

Ah, Bakugou Katsuki, someone who’s done to Izuku what he does to you. It’s a bit of a fucked up little triangle because while Izuku was bullied by him and you are bullied by Izuku, you couldn’t help but hope that Bakugou would be the one taunting you, the one pinching your thighs. At least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe he’d help you, after all, he was probably the only person who’d believe you in the first place.

So once Izuku had wiped your tears with a condescending thumb and left to go partake of other party activities, you pulled Katsuki aside by the shoulder, fingers digging into the meat of his bicep.

“What in th- you?! The fuck are you doing?” Bakugou asked, eyebrows furrowed in the permanent scowl that he wore so frequently.

“Sh, look please just, hear me out.” You spoke, voice hushed as your eyes shifted around. You had the feeling that if Izu saw you with him, you’d be in for it. “I just- I really need help.”

Bakugou was about to scoff, was about to roll his eyes and walk away until he saw the redness under your eyes that the makeup couldn’t hide. The way you sniffled slightly as you asked and the way you looked to the floor. He’d never seen you like this, almost broken. It was something he’d seen often in Izuku, but something about seeing you like this made him ache.

“What?” He responded, trying not to seem too invested.

“It’s Midoriya.” Your voice grew quiet, almost in shame as you spoke the formal version of his name.

“And?” Bakugou was impatient. He cared about you but not enough to sit here for five minutes while you stuttered. “Spit it out.”

“He- he won’t leave me alone.” The words tumble from your lips so fast and before you know it, your hands are balled into fists on his chest, the material of his gown scrunched inside them in a plea. “He’s a nightmare, he pinches me and says the most awful shit to me. I- I mean, the inside of my legs and thighs are littered with bruises and n-no one believes me.”

“Midoriya? As in, ‘shitty deku’ Midoriya?” Bakugou takes a step back in slight shock.

“Yes!” You shout, far louder than you intended, pulling him closer slightly as you hush your tone in a whisper. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

He nudged you off of him, brushing off his gown. Bakugou would be lying if he said it didn’t make his blood boil. Sure, him and Midoriya had buried the hatchet a long time ago but he still wanted dirt on the guy, plus he thought it was a coward move for him to bully someone as pretty as you. Though after seeing the way your eyes get wide in fear, he can’t say that it wasn’t incredibly tempting. There was something enticing about how you looked when you begged, no doubt Izuku saw it too.

“You’re too sensitive.” He scoffed, meeting you gaze and watching the way your expression fell. “What you do is graduate and forget about that shitty extra. There’s really nothing else to it.”

You reached for him again out of habit this time, like if he turned around now you’d really be thrown to the wolves.

“N-no, Bakugou, please.” You plead again, tears once again gathering in the corners of your eyes. “I-I can’t. I just need help.”

Oh, he gets it now.

He sees what makes you so appealing, what makes it so easy to walk all over you. You looked pretty when you cried. So he leaned in, his scowl turning into a smirk before speaking again.

“No.” Bakugou’s smirk turned into an outright grin, eyes crinkling at the corners before he stood back up. “I graduated. Shitty Deku is your problem, not mine. Deal with it yourself. Just stop talking to him or whatever.”

And with a wave of his hand he was off, walking towards his group of friends. Well, there goes your life line, the one person who actually believed that Izuku was tormenting you wouldn’t even lend you a helping hand. You supposed it was too much to hope though, and he was right, you could forget… stop talking to him. Why did the idea of that suck almost as much as staying under this thumb?

“____!” Bunette locks bounced as your friend came towards you, hand outstretched in a wave before she pulled you into a hug. “We’re all going to Midoriya’s place to celebrate graduating, come with?”

You liked Uraraka. Well, you actually liked all of Izuku’s friends. They were sweet and honestly none-the-wiser to Izuku’s torments and taunts. She wore the kindest smile, eyes bright with the excitement of finally starting her adult life.

You glanced at the rest of them, eyes flitting around friendly faces until your gaze met Izuku’s. He looked upset, eyebrows furrowed slightly and eyes cold as he stood there. They all agreed, urging you to go before Izuku spoke up, smiling gently at you over the top of Uraraka’s head.

“You should come. We’ll miss you if you don’t.” The rest of the group nods their agreement, but it wasn’t them that pulled the small okay from your lips. It was Izuku, the way his eyes had a threatening glint to them as he spoke, a smile creeping into them in the most unsettling of ways. Your stomach was turning again, twisting over and over because something about the way Izuku looked at you made you squirm.

“Yay! Okay, we’re all gonna meet there after!” She smiled, taking your hands in hers and giving a small squeal. “It’s gonna be so fun!”

And with that she was bouncing off with Asui in the direction of Kaminari and Kirishima.

Izuku stayed behind, walking slower than his friends so he could bend down to speak to you. You could feel his breath against your neck as he spoke, words sending shivers down your spine. Despite the way your heart hammered against your rib cage, you tilted your head to hear him better.

“You better be there, doll.” He muttered. “It’ll be worse for you if you’re not. Be a good girl for once, yeah?”

He sounded more upset than usual, hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder hard enough to make you flinch, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, he didn’t wear his standard grin. Izuku looked angry, furious even. It made your skin crawl, made heat creep up your neck and onto your cheeks so furiously that you found it hard to see through.

All you could do was nod, fighting the pout that tried so hard to paint your face. You squeezed your thighs together instinctively at the phrase. He never praised you, not even once. Hearing the words “good girl” drip from his lips so angrily made them fly shamefully south. He gave a small laugh before walking off. It was almost like he knew, leaving you to rub at your sore shoulder.

---

Why were you here? You could have just not come and then you never would have had to see Izuku again, never would have had to deal with him until one day in the future when you’re too successful a hero to pinch. Still, you wouldn’t admit it to yourself or anyone else, but you might miss him. The teasing was a nightmare but it was attention, something that reminded you that at least Izuku still saw you.

He couldn’t be ignoring you if he was calling you a slut.

You arrived after everyone and Izuku opened the door for you with a jeering grin before stepping aside to let you in, pinching at your thigh again. He noticed immediately that you wore a skirt and he didn’t have to wonder why. It was an invitation for him, of course.

You’d actually never been to Izuku’s house, so sitting in his living room eating snacks and drinking was unusual to say the least. It was surprising because beyond pinching you in the doorway, Izuku was being oddly kind.

He sat next to you, his thigh pressed against yours, but he didn’t try anything. Didn’t whisper in your ear or grab at the fat on your side. You couldn’t help but ask yourself why. Even as the latter half of the day droned on, you were on edge despite being treated, finally, like one of the group. What did you do wrong? Was he no longer interested in you? Most importantly though, why were you upset that he wasn’t pushing your buttons?

The end of the day came quickly, dark settling over the house while everyone gathered their things to leave. You’d all walk home together, leaving Izuku alone in his house. He smiled as everyone waved goodbye, bittersweet tears in his eyes as his final high school hang out came to a close. He cried at the ceremony while delivering his speech and then again at his house while Uraraka babbled on about her appreciation of UA. You can’t say you felt the same.

“Not ____.” He said as you slipped on your shoes, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll walk her home since she lives in the opposite direction. Plus, I gotta give her something.”

Izuku smiles at his friends, who all nod their understanding. They wouldn’t suspect that he’d do anything wrong, that he’d be keeping you behind to maybe, finally, torment you. What a fucked up way of thinking. The door to his house clicked shut and your blood ran far colder than you thought it would as he approached you.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He taunted, a fake pout adorning his features. “Thought I’d let you off easy? After today?”

Izuku raised an eyebrow before rolling his eyes at the realization that you don’t know what he’s talking about.

“Wow, you really are a slut aren’t you? Clinging to Bakugou so shamelessly today?” He scowled looked over you.

Your eyes widened, lips parting as you remembered grabbing at Bakugou’s shirt, pulling him towards you earlier that day in a plea for help.

“Did you think he would help you?” He sneered. “Bakugou’s just like me. He doesn’t care about a whore like you. Did you think that if you pushed against him like that he’d cave? Fold because your perfect body was flush on him?”

Izuku took your face between his pointer and thumb, spitting venom at you, waiting for you to respond. His compliment flew over your head.

“N-no.” Yes. “I swear Izuku… I- I didn’t-”

“You- you- you didn’t what?” Izuku responded, mocking your miserable stutter. “You’re my toy. Pisses me off when you let other people play with you.”

And then he’s dragging you towards his room, pulling you into the cramped space and closing the door behind him. He’s muttering like he usually does, pushing you onto his bed so you’re sitting on the edge.

Why were you so relieved right now? Why was your cunt already sticky with arousal? Why did every single word he was saying to you go straight south? You take your bottom lip between your teeth trying to find a way to shake your head in protest— to get up and leave— but the movement just wouldn’t come. Instead, you hang your head, eyebrows pulled up and cheeks flushed with heat as he stares you down.

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice is barely a whisper, hardly audible over the sound of his frustrated breathing and your own rampant heart beat. “I’ve never done anything to you.”

Izuku scoffed this time, stepping forward and taking your face in his hands again.

“Haven’t done anything?” His words are venomous and his face is inches from yours, hot breath fanning across your cheeks. Were his hands always this big? “Dressing like that and saying you ‘haven’t done anything’?”

His eyes flit down to the fat of your thighs, free hand groping the flesh hungrily, hard enough that it had you sucking in a sharp breath. Izuku couldn’t take it anymore, squeezing your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours in an aggressive kiss.

Truth was, you drove Izuku batshit crazy. Right from the moment he saw you he could hardly contain himself, prancing around in that tiny fucking skirt with an ass like that. Daring to act so innocent when he was gripping the edge of his desk to keep from pouncing on you as you introduced yourself to him, as you hung all over his middle school bully, or as you flashed your hot pink panties while in class.

To him, you were asking for it and the way you played dumb only made his blood boil further. Izuku was a nice boy, always had been, but the day that he made you cry, telling you that you kind of looked like a slut in your skirt, was the day he knew that he’d have way too much fun with you.

Your eyes got so big, welled up so quickly with tears that he knew were caused by him. It made him proud, made his chest swell at how quickly he could completely ruin your day. This must be how Bakugou felt, to some degree, except chances are that he wasn’t thinking about what your puffy, swollen lips might look like when you’re choking on his cock.

He’d been thinking about it since he met you. Pushing you further and further because you were just so fucking cute when you cried and if he couldn’t consume your thoughts because you like him, then he’d have to settle for consuming them because you’re afraid of him.

You grunted against him, eyes going wide as his lips crashed into yours. You were spinning, heart pounding as his tongue dipped into your mouth hungrily. He pulled away from you quickly.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy, looking like that.” Izuku seethed. “If you’re gonna play clueless, y’might as well make use of yourself. S’what you deserve.”

And without asking he pushed you from the bed and onto your knees in front of him. You knew where it was going, knew that Izuku wasn’t going to let up because this boundary was being crossed. Still, you shamefully rubbed your thighs together, blinking up at him in confusion and arousal.

“Such a whore.” He said, freeing his cock from his pants and letting it slap against his stomach. Izuku relished in the way your eyes widened, in the way you unconsciously licked your lips. And then he’s tapping the side of your mouth with his cock, head tilted back in a taunt as he watches the way your eyes brim with premature tears. He’d show you real crying.

“Suck it.” A simple command, but one that had you shivering. He kept his hand on your shoulder while his fingers dug into it with a force that was all too familiar. is cock throbbed in his hands as you sniffled and parted those pretty, glossed lips.

Izuku didn’t wait, no, he couldn’t wait, pushing his full length to the back of your throat and beyond, groaning when it entered the tight, wet space beyond your mouth. His head fell back and his mouth fell open at the way you choked on him. Tears forced their way out of your eyes and down your cheeks as he began fucking your mouth.

“Y-you’re a real crybaby, huh?” He cooed, a lazy half-smirk gracing his face. “You did this to yourself. Such– a fucking– tease.”

He accentuated his words with harsh thrusts into your throat, drool pooling in your mouth and dribbling down his cock to his balls. It ran down your chin, mingling with tears as he continued to fuck your throat.

Izuku was big, far bigger than you expected him to be. He completely filled your throat, stretching your unprepared mouth open. You could feel the sides of your mouth pulling at his size, lips cracking as you struggled to take all of him with each of his thrusts. Still, when you looked up at him through big teary eyes, knees growing sore from the way his fist held you to the floor, other hand pulling you against his cock, your cunt grew wet with arousal.

He pulled you off him by your hair, watching the way you gasped and sputtered and sobbed. He loved the scratch in your throat as you coughed and he picked you up by the arm and crawled between your legs.

“Wearing such a tiny skirt to my house.” He spit. “You knew what you were doing, lookin’ like that with your ass out and shit.”

Izuku’s eyes scanned over you hungrily, like he’s been waiting to get you here for so long. Fuck, he still looked big, hovering over you and supporting his entire weight on one of his arms as his other hand wandered down. He flipped up the fabric of your skirt, admiring the way you flinched as his hand ran up your inner thigh.

His hands ran over your figure, squeezing at the fat of your stomach, thighs, and chest. Izuku has been dying to get a piece of you since you met, since he first laid eyes on that frustratingly sexy figure of yours that led him to spiral to this moment. His hands dipped back to your inner thigh, ensuring that your skirt was out of the way, though it was so small already that it proved no obstacle at all.

His breathing grew heavy, hand gently gliding along the supple flesh that he’s pinched so many times, marks from your final day of classes still fading. Izuku’s eyebrows were furrowed together as his hands found your panties, touching you over the fabric that was now soaked through. His eyes snapped to you so fast as he pulled the fabric aside with calloused fingers, wasting no time dipping his fingers into your soaking folds.

“You fucking pervert.” He sneered, glancing down to show you just how wet you’d gotten, all for him. “You like it when I’m mean to you? So fucking dirty.”

Izuku rubbed a swift circle around your clit and you brought your arm up to hide your face, biting into your forearm to muffle the sounds. You shook your head, squeaking out a no as his fingers curled up into you.

“You sure about that? You’re dripping.” Izuku grunted, curling his fingers with his entire forearm and hearing a moan from you. “See? Fucking slut, giving me those eyes, like a lost puppy.”

It was undeniable how you clenched around him and he let out a curt laugh of disbelief.

“Oh… you like that name, don’t you, puppy?” He dipped down to bite at your neck, humming into the skin.

You squirm beneath him but he has you caged in under, your legs unable to move around. Your stomach still turned in fear of him, but that fear was mixing with the intense pleasure building in your core. Even his fingers were a stretch and you could feel his thick cock hitting your abdomen with each aggressive curl, your mind consumed with just how good it would feel for him to break you open. After all, he’s chipped away at almost every ounce of self respect you had. In fact, he practically already owned you mentally, now he was just claiming what he should rightfully own physically.

“I hate girls like you.” He spat, fingers picking up their pace as you were sent barrelling towards your high. “Acting like you don’t know what you’re doing to me. So fucking stupid. But look at you now— Your cunt is practically drooling on me— pathetic.”

You were close, hot with arousal as he lifted your arm from your face.

“Getting close huh? I can feel your whore cunt clenching. Y’wanna cum?” He grinned widely through furrowed brows.

Your eyes were glossed over, tears spilling onto your cheeks and for a moment Izuku almost felt bad for you. Still though, you were just too fun to fuck with, too fun to absolutely ruin. You looked prettier than he could have imagined right now; face sticky with tears of arousal, embarrassment, and fear. Izuku was a nice boy, he really was, except when it came to you because now he just couldn’t stop himself from ruining your cunt.

You were close, impossibly close as you bit your lip in an attempt to muffle the whiney yes that breached your lips. It was involuntarily, almost a survival response as his fingers continued making that delicious squelching sound. Those years of torment were beginning to twist. You were beginning to convince yourself that no, it wasn’t so bad, it’s okay to want to cream on his fingers and be his good girl.

So you nodded, dew-filled eyes stricken with fear meeting his predatory ones in a confirmation. He was building you up so well, your stomach turning over and over, the knot tightening and set to break. And then he pulled his fingers from you as you clenched around nothing, a blinding orgasm ripped from you all by his fingers. Your back arched up off the bed and pathetic whines left your lips.

“You’ll have to beg for it.” He smirked, sitting back on his knees, discarding your panties with a hard tug and running the head of his cock through your slick while you whimper. “Tell me you like it. C’mon. I’ll let you cum on my cock if you do.”

Right now you were certain you’d do anything if it meant you were allowed to cream over him, so you parted your lips, hiccuping through broken sobs.

“P-please Izu, need to cum.” Your voice was low and quiet.

Izuku pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, glowering down at you as he pushed the fabric of your shirt up over those perfect tits that he couldn’t get enough of. He sucked in a sharp breath, facade falling for a moment until he brought his eyes back to yours.

“You like it when I’m mean, huh? Lemme hear you say it.” Izuku gave a cruel smile, eyes darkened with lust.

“Yes! Yes, I like it.” You shout, hand coming up to grab his arm, speaking through desperate tears. “Please fuck me, please Izu.”

Izuku bottomed out in one fell swoop, hearing all he needed as he throws his head back, a groan of fucking pathetic falling lazily from his lips. He rolled his head across his shoulders, starting to move in and out of you, stretching your cunt open with each push and pull.

“So fucking tight. You a virgin?” His tongue swiped at his teeth as he relished in the stretch and the way pain wet your cheeks.

God, he fucking hated you. Hated every part of you. He hated the way your lips looked so good around him, the way your thighs squeezed so nicely around his waist, the way your tears only egged him on. It all made him want to hurt you. You brought out the worst in him. You were too fucking tempting, too easy.

You weren’t a virgin but the stretch of his cock made you feel like one. God, you could feel him in your throat as you gripped pathetically at his biceps, a plea to get him to slow down. Izuku wouldn’t listen though, pounding into your gummy walls mercilessly.

“Not gonna answer?” He laughed, low and threatening before folding your knees to your chest. “Tells me all I need to know. How many men have fucked this cunt of yours, huh? Bet it’s more than I can count on one hand.”

Izuku brought his hand up to your face once more, squeezing your plump cheeks together.

“Don’t worry, puppy. Gonna make it so you can’t take anyone else.” He spits in your mouth, forcing it closed. “Fuckin’ mine now, yeah? My little whore, always have been, right?”

You screw your eyes shut, swallowing sloppily as spit drips down your chin and tears streak from your eyes. Where did he learn to speak like this?

“Say it.”

You’re close again, so full of him, so desperate for him to give you what you want. You can’t resist him, so you might as well submit. Maybe it will make everything easier because you were finding it harder to pretend that you didn’t like it now.

“Yours, m’yours.” You choke out, hand flying to his large one to move it over your throat. “Belong only to you.”

Izuku squeezed the sides of your neck with startling force. It’s almost hateful in how strong it was but it made you whine out against him, voice raking against vocal chords that he forced closed.

“Slut. S-such a slut.” He stuttered as you clenched around him, hitting your high with a roll of your hips and a pathetic whimper. “C’mon, gimme it, puppy.”

Oh god, the pay off was unbelievable. The way you whined his name was better than any sob he pulled from you to date.You were so helpless,your body wracking with waves of pleasure and your pussy clamping down around him. This is what he saw in you the first time he made you cry— this expression. He knew you could make it, eyes big and wide, filled with tears and your mouth open in a deep moan. Fuck, he loved it.

“God, so tight. Good puppy, good fucking puppy.” He fucked into you faster, chasing his own high now as he assaulted your overstimulated cunt.

Your head spun, no longer preoccupied with the taunting or the tormenting. You were stupid on his cock, his good little puppy, like you were meant to be. You should have given in earlier, should have let him shove his dick down your throat sooner because even though you were struggling to get off his fat cock, you couldn’t, and you loved every single second of it. Izuku was only mean to you, only mean to his puppy.

You’re so overstimulated, barreling towards another orgasm and now all you can think about is how bad you want him to fill you up.

“C-cum inside.” You managed to choke out between pathetic sobs and whimpers. You’re crying for it, begging. “Please cum inside of me.”

Izuku let out a low chuckle before bottoming out one final time, shoving his thick fingers down your throat and filling you up. When Izuku came, he came a lot. It flooded your cunt before leaking out the sides where he had you split open. Izuku couldn’t hide his true nature for long, his thighs beginning to quiver and a low groan becoming a high pitched whine as he emptied his balls inside of you like he’d been wanting to for so long.

He stayed there for a moment before pulling out of you and crouching down to watch the way he spilled out of you, admiring your ruined pussy and body. You’re stretched out from him, tears staining your cheeks and cunt gaping from his cock.

And then he’s biting at your thighs, marking up the inside of your leg as you can barely manage to push out a squeal. He’s leaving the marks he’s always wanted to. Those pinches on the inside of your leg were a stand in for the ones he’d create with his teeth. He nipped at the sensitive skin before dipping his tongue into your folds to collect the mixture of him and you in his mouth.

Izuku watched the way you twitched as he cleaned you up, admiring the way your legs flinched whenever he ran his tongue over your sensitive clit. He’s much gentler now but his eyes still frightened you when he came up from between your legs to spit the mixture of cum and arousal back into your slightly parted mouth, ordering you to swallow puppy.

When you finally do— too tired and fucked out to think about protesting, he smiles— standing up off the bed and buttoning his pants with a heaving sigh.

Izuku turned back to your form on the bed, watching the way your chest heaved and the way your pleated skirt crowded at your hips, ruined cunt on display and shirt pushed up over your bitten up breasts. He made a mental note to remember to take your clothes off next time.

tags: @namrekcaivel , @mikaberries , @cleardamage , @veroyktv , @honeyzawa , @erenstellar , @female-titan , @kiyoobi , @pancakesv , @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein , @lazyezstudy , @jeanbabygirl , @peachysimp , @kirsteiiins , @babybottlepop96 , @ayannamika , @fiaficsxo , @chittaphon96

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call-me-aesthetic · 3 years

Text

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Note

I feel like Tsukishima, Kuroo, Tendou or Futakuchi would be perfect yandere bully.

You’re forgetting about the original obsessive bully - Oikawa. I don’t really see it in canon, but this ain’t canon and I don’t care for his vibes enough to make him seem nice.

He’s just so mean, when he wants to be. He can grin and laugh and play nice when he has to, but as soon as he gets you alone or manages to concrete his moral superiority in the eyes of everyone whose opinion he cares about, the act drops as quickly as that sickly-sweet smile of his. He’s so blatant about it, too, hitting all the classic marks, writing off every traditional stereotype he can get his hands on, whether he’s stealing your notebooks and leaving them for you to find torn-up and ruined or cornering you in the gym’s locker-room after practice, going on and on about all the awful, degrading things his fan-club says about you, about how it would be so terrible if all those nasty rumors found their way out into the rest of the school. If you try to talk things over with him, you’ll only make things worse. Ask to talk to him alone, and he’ll tell all his little friends that you’re always following him around, that you’re no better than a lovesick puppy following him around, begging for any scraps of attention he has to give. Confront him, and suddenly you care too much. You’re the stalker, not him. You’re the creep. He’s just the poor, unfortunate popular kid who can’t catch a break when it comes to clingy admirers.

Maybe if you paid more attention to him, this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if you just came to him willingly, before he had to force your hand, there wouldn’t be bruises on your knees and bite-marks littered across your chest, where you can’t show them off unless you want to lose what’s left of your pride. Now, you’re stuck dealing with the cocky, arrogant, needy consequences of your actions, or you can try to salvage what’s left of your reputations as he does his damnedest to drag your name through the mud. It’s up to you, honestly, but the path of least resistance is usually the safest... I mean, on a mental level, at least. Oikawa’s got a tight grip, and trust me, no part of you is going to make it out unscathed.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompt #yandere theory #yandere oikawa #tw bullying

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years

Text

6x14: Mannequin 3: The Reckoning

Then:

Sam got his soul back

Now:

We pick up where we left off last time. Sam is unconscious on the floor with Dean pleading with him to wake up. He does wake, eventually. Kudos for not dropping how the last episode ended, but this is such a weird flex of an episode. Time to jump into how this random case of the week normally would start.

Great Falls Junior College

Paterson, New Jersey

Late at night, a janitor makes his rounds through the science lab. An anatomy dummy tracks his moves. He hears a noise behind him, but doesn’t notice the dummy is now gone. And before he knows it, there’s blood (from his own forehead!) dripping on the floor.

The air chills, the lights go out. The janitor is visibly spooked. He cries out to whoever is there. He runs --right into the sentient dummy, and gets a scalpel in the throat.

Sam’s still recovering from his brain attack. Dean has coffee, food, and pills of unknown material. Sam passes on the drugs. Dean asks if he wants to talk about it. Sam’s fine. He’s GOOD. Dean guesses that he was getting flashes of Hell.

Then we get this lovely exchange from Mr. Dean “self aware but don’t know what to do with it” Winchester and his brother.

SAM: Dean...I might've done...who knows what, and you want me to just forget about it?

DEAN: You shove it down, and you let it come out in spurts of violence and alcoholism.

SAM: That sounds healthy.

DEAN: Well, works for me.

Anyway, to take Sam’s mind off things, Dean’s found a case.

At the school, Dean starts goofing around with the anatomy dummy. He also gets a call from Lisa, which he rejects. Sam tells Dean to talk to her, but then is distracted when his EMF machine starts going haywire. Something is going on in this room.

Dean notices there are security cameras and the boys set to reviewing the tapes. The camera fuzzed out at the moment of the attack, of course.

Later, the brothers meet up again after conducting their respective interviews, which all revealed nothing.

Cut to a clothes making factory that night. A security man walks through the darkened place, full of sewing machines and mannequins. He turns towards a noise in the back. He calls out, but no one’s there. Well, no one but this guy:

And just like the janitor, the air gets frosty and the guard’s forehead slices open. A mannequin with a large pole impales the poor dude.

(It’s here that I’d like to take a moment to say that maybe I hate this episode so much because I actually loved the movie Mannequin as a kid. I remember watching that movie ALL THE TIME. I wanted to live in a mall after hours and fall in love with an ancient Egyptian goddess. And have Hollywood as a BFF. I don’t think I could watch it as an adult --it’s probably problematic AF. Natasha: SAAAAME)

Anyway, Sam and Dean arrive just as the coroner is hauling away the victim. Sam’s EMF goes wild around the mannequins. Dean’s creeped out by the ghost possessed mannequins. Or as he puts it: “I don’t like the way Kim Catrell is looking at me.”

Later, while doing more research, Sam finds an article about a missing woman who once worked at the clothes factory. She’s got a sister.

Lisa calls. Sam tells Dean to answer.

He does, and it’s Ben. He tells Dean there’s something wrong with Lisa. She won’t get out of bed, her door stays locked. He pleads with Dean to come help him. Dean doesn’t want to go, but Sam insists. Dean heads off to Lisa’s while Sam interviews the missing woman’s sister.

Looking at pictures, Sam sees that the janitor once worked at the factory with Rose, the missing woman. They have a lead. He heads to the factory and interviews different employees. We get a lot of montage interviews and then one interview with a derpy long-haired dude, Johnny. Sam asks him if he knew Rose. He hesitates. The dude’s a horrible liar. If a co-worker of yours disappeared, I think you’d know it --even if you didn’t know her before she disappeared. Sam shows the guy a picture and he admits to have seen her around. Johnny’s nervous and Sam calls him out on it.

Meanwhile, Dean gets to Lisa’s to discover she’s completely fine. Ben tricked them. Dean guesses Lisa’s going on a date. They decide to talk about things like adults finally.

At the factory, Mr. Johnny McNervouspants stalks through the factory, complaining about those darn Feds to someone on the phone. Blood drips from his face and he watches as a deep gash opens up on his forehead. Things are looking bad for this idiot, when Sam bursts in and saves him with a giant load of salt (oh, and also the condiment). Johnny tells Sam that he and his (now dead) friends pretended that Rose had a secret admirer. They left her gifts in her locker, then lured her to an apartment.

Flash back to the apartment, which is dimly lit with a romantic tableau on the table. A man sits with his back to the door and when Rose grabs his shoulder, she discovers it’s nothing but a dummy dressed in a tux.

The flock of dudes emerge from throughout the apartment, braying at their hilarious joke. Honestly, there is so much time and effort and money put into this bullying. Luring her to an apartment sure fucking feels like something far more insidious than “lol what a loser.” My discomfort meter is EXTREMELY HIGH. When she tries to leave, one of them grabs her. She falls and dashes her head against the corner of the coffee table. The blow kills her instantly.

Sam listens to all of this. “I’m not saying you deserve to die…” Sam says. (That’s just what I’M saying, okay?) Sam leaves Johnny penned in by salt while he heads off to find Rose’s body.

At Lisa’s, Dean heads up to talk to Ben. Dean learns that Lisa’s on her third date with Doctor Matt, and TV has taught Ben that it’s a big milestone. EYEBROW WAGGLE.

Ben wants Dean to come home and…just hearing that Ben made a place for Dean and called his home their “home” is enough to break my heart for poor Dean Bean. AND Ben. AND Lisa! “Just 'cause you love someone doesn't mean you should stick around and screw up their life,” Dean returns. Dean bby. While I’m petting Dean’s nose he further slays me with, “I think my job turns me into somebody that can't sit at your dinner table.” DEAN BBY noooooo. He refuses to stick around and watch Ben turn into a hunter.

“You know you’re walking out on your family, right?” Ben SLAYS us all.

For Oh No You Didn’t Science:

Sam burns Rose’s body. Case closed! Let’s all go home. Oh, wait. The Winchesters DON’T HAVE A HOME. Cut to Dean having a sad montage of fun times with Lisa as he drives back to the case. d e a n

Speaking of home, Johnny heads home to his best girl. Uh, best mannequin. Uh, best mannequin girl. He talks to his sex doll. He loves her very much, and it’s time to restart their life somewhere new. Um.

Cut to the next morning. Johnny’s dead on the floor and the sex doll sits demurely on her own. Free at last! Sam calls Dean. The job’s not over yet.

At Isabel’s place, Sam learns that she’s going to school in Great Falls…exactly where the janitor was murdered. Wherps. Sam digs for the tie between the cases and realizes in a moment of sweeping insight that Isabel is the link. “What are you wearing of Rose's? A ring? A bracelet? Her baby teeth in a locket?” Ah, the ol’ baby teeth in a locket keepsake. Classic sister jewelry.

Isabel confesses that she carries one piece of Isabel around with her everywhere…her kidney. “You’re kidding,” Sam deadpans. “You’re kidding,” fandom says.

Dean makes jokes about haunted kidneys when they reunite. They form a plan to head down to Louisiana and research a hoodoo solution, when Baby fires up. Rose is possessing the Impala! “She possesses sex dolls,” Dean complains. “This is not a sex doll.” (Me: Looks directly into the camera.) Baby/Rose races for Dean, chasing him all over the parking lot. Has anyone set this scene to the Benny Hill theme yet? Asking for a friend.

Dean basically turns himself into a bullfighter’s cape, luring Baby to crash into a storefront. The Impala stops, buried windshield deep in bricks and glass. Great work, everybody! And then Isabel collapses, blood bubbling from her lips. A giant shard of storefront glass juts from her stomach. The haunted kidney is toast.

Ghost Rose mournfully appears, apologizes to her sister, and they both depart the earth.

At Bobby’s place, Dean repairs the Impala. “We saved a few dicks and we killed an innocent girl. I got a heartbroken kid and a woman who's so pissed at me…” Everything’s terrible. Dean’s feeling beaten, but Sam’s optimistic. He has a soul now so…things could be worse? They’re gonna keep fighting.

None of These Quotes are Real:

None of this "it's just a flesh wound" crap

What's a Snooki?

We've been Parent Trapped

That the girl with the haunted kidney?

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 6x14 #mannequin 3: the reckoning #dean winchester #sam winchester #hate watch week #supernatural season 6

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sodalitefully · 4 years

Note

I wish you would write a gnr high school au (with whatever pairings you like)

I have definitely though about this before so I consulted my notes for this:

Classic high school trope nerd gets pushed around by school bullies except… Not quite.

Slash, Steven, and Duff are the bad kids, they’re always together and they’re always in trouble for cutting class or smoking behind the bleachers or ignoring the school dress code, you get the idea.

Axl and Izzy are nerds. Well, Izzy’s more of a wallflower stoner kid but he gets good grades and hangs out with Axl so it counts.

Axl is that kid who needs to get perfect grades, who argues with his teachers all the time, who has that one classic novel that he’s obsessed with because he relates to it during this formative period of his development and when his english teacher assigns it to the class he gets pissy cause the other students don’t appreciate it.

Uh, my point is, he’s a nerd but he’s not soft or spineless. In fact he’s usually pretty abrasive. And why shouldn’t he be? He doesn’t like anyone here besides Izzy anyway, all he’s trying to do is graduate with good grades to get a scholarship and get the fuck out of town.

So, he’s kind of a jerk to Slash a few times. He doesn’t think much of it, they only interact at all because they have a few classes together, and Slash never gets mad so he must understand that Axl doesn’t mean anything personal right?

But then one day out of the blue Duff and Steven corner Axl in the locker room. In his head Axl’s thinking well fuck I guess this is it it was only a matter of time before someone decided to try to shove the straight-As school-choir nerdy-glasses kid in a locker or something

Well, that’s not exactly what Duff and Steven have in mind. They give Axl a hell of a shakedown: What the fuck is your problem with Slash? We heard what you said to him yesterday, you think you can get away with shit like that? You so much as look at him funny we’ll come after you. Seriously, what the fuck is your deal? What did he ever do to you?

Axl is confused as hell. He hadn’t realized that Slash was even mad. He stammers out an apology, the blonds tell him he better apologize to Slash, if he’s really done being an asshole. Axl asks if Slash is really mad at him, he’s a little afraid that the three of them are gonna try and kick his ass if he approaches them again.

Steven laughs a little at that but Duff is still staring down his nose at Axl and jesus he’s a lot more intimidating than Axl ever gave him credit for. Slash isn’t mad, Duff explains slowly like Axl is a five-year-old, he’s just wondering what the fuck he ever did for you to hate him. (Well now Axl feels guilty and confused). Steven and I, we’re mad, and we’ll fuck you up if you don’t either back off or fix it.

Well shit.

So the next day Axl spots Slash at lunch and gears himself up to apologize. Too, late, he notices that Duff and Steven are hovering around him, but he’s already started walking over so there’s no going back now.

Look, Axl’s not actually an asshole, this is just a messy and unexpected misunderstanding. Truth is, Slash has, maybe, a teeny, tiny bit of a crush on Axl. Look, he’s smart and fiery and pretty (and those glasses are cute as fuck)… so understandably he’s a little bummed when Axl is short with him and he doesn’t know why. Duff and Steven don’t know this, they just know that Slash is upset and it’s Axl’s fault. And Axl doesn’t know any of this at all, he was just in a kinda pissy mood that day… and maybe a few other days recently.

Good lord this is longer than I thought it would be

Well anyway Axl apologizes and things are a bit tense but everyone’s on better terms in the end and after that Axl and Slash start actually talking sometimes and you know, learn that there’s more to each other than they realized and all that

And eventually Slash makes a move and Axl is actually really down for it and they get together and it’s great

Man, all this just because I really wanted to write Axl as an angry nerd. Thanks for the ask!!

(wish for a fic)

#reply #gnr #slash #axl rose #slaxl #sodafics

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dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 5 years

Text

Dear Hannah,

Pairing: technically Destiel, but that’s not what this is about Word Count: 4.9k (wow wtf) Warnings: mentions of self-harm, cancer, shitty father John (as per usual), angst and angst and father-daughter love and angst. Summary: When Dean, strapped to a bed, coughing up a storm, catches sight of his newly-adopted baby girl, he decides that, if he is to leave this world, he has to leave something behind for his favorite person. So he writes a booklet, trying to tell her all the things he would’ve if he was alive. Author’s note: This was originally done for @welldonebeca ‘s 2019 Song Challenge but I fucked up thinking the deadline was the 31st of October instead of the 15th. Whatever the case, my prompt was movement, by Hozier, which I interpreted as Dean being fascinated by his daughter enough that he’s inspired to write a letter book to her. Of course this wouldn’t be the entire thing, but I had to keep it under wraps.

Feedback is always welcome! No beta, all mistakes are my own.

~~~~

Hannah,

Christ, it’s the third time I’m starting this. The truth is, I’m coming up with blanks as to how to actually start. This has got to be the best I’ve got.

I’ll tell you the moral of this story, my story, from the get-go. Life’s a fucking bitch, okay? I want you to know that from now. I’d try to hold back on my swearing, but I want you to know me as the person I am, the person I’ve always been. I know what having an absent, terrible father’s like, as you’ll soon see, and I don’t want that for you. I wish I could tell you all this up close, give you advice, tell you all my crazy-ass stories as the dumbass of the teenager I was, and all the shenanigans your uncle (wow, Sam really is a friggin’ uncle!), by a campfire, while you drink your first beer.

Sadly, my odds aren’t looking so great, honey. So this is all I got. I know it’ll never be enough but something is better than nothing.

Enough with the chick flick introduction, though. Let’s start.

The pen’s heavy in his hand, and it’s equal parts the mental heaviness, the weight of the task, as it is his fatigue. Dean’s really just started this. He can’t believe it. The heaviness of uncertainty, of whether or not he’ll get enough time to finish it settles on his chest like an anvil. There’s a solid chance he doesn’t make it before his time comes.

Hannah’s sitting right there, carelessly looking at the plastic, grinning stars above her crib. She’s so innocent, skin creamy, chocolaty and bright, a young, fearsome woman that’s gonna turn out to be so incredible, he’s certain. A small baby who’s soon to walk.

Dean already knows, this kid is destined for great things.

She’s gonna grow up, past the tutus and the miniature racing-car collections, she’s gonna have a movie she’ll play on repeat for ever and ever, with a song that he’ll learn by heart after having heard it so many times. She’s gonna go to high school and she’ll be bullied but she’ll learn to kick some serious ass. She’ll develop interests, she’ll have mediocre grades but a fiery passion and a love for anything alive.

She’ll, then, go to college. She’ll fall in love, with people and life itself. She’ll do what she loves most and she’ll be so damn good at it, she’ll excel.

And Dean… Dean will be nowhere near her to see all of it.

The bitterness… it makes his eyebrows stitch together, his lip curl in clear frustration and sadness. After everything he’s been through, finally finding the person he loves most and creating a full-ass apple pie life, and it’s all gonna be gone as soon as it started. Because, as he told his favorite Hannah, life’s a fucking bitch, and there’s no denying it.

As he lays there in his bed, pale as a sheet, watching her giggle for a while, reaching for the stars, soon yawning, small eyelids shutting softly and rocking just slightly, he… he falls in love with her. This tiny, tiny happy-beyond-words creature that could ask anything of him, and he’d do it, god damn it. He really would.

A giant bubble grows in his chest, a bubble that makes him feel like he’ll protect her at absolute all costs. He’ll grab the moon and fucking move it if that’s what she needs. And all she has to do is yawn and fall asleep.

A tear appears in the corner of his eye, lingering and falling down his ashy cheek. He can’t believe he brought this bright ray of sunshine to this world, and he’s about to make her live with an absent father. That he won’t get any memories with her at all. It’s torture. All of it.

He doesn’t know what else to do, so he grabs his pen with more determination. If he’s to leave her with something, it’ll be a part of him and that is that.

~~~~~

I was born on January 24th, 1979, the first son of a, dare I say, colossally unlucky family. Your uncle, Sam, my brother, is four years younger and will ALWAYS be a wimp, don’t let the height fool you. He always had terrible, shaggy hair and was always the sharpest tool in the box. Hell, the boy went to freaking LAW SCHOOL of all places! That’s kinda crazy!

My parents, your grandparents, were Mary and John.

Mary was a sweet, incredible, fearsome blonde woman, kindest of them all. She’d cut the crusts off my toast, sing Hey, Jude to me before bed and tell me angels were watching over me. (While we’re on the topic of the Beatles, make a note to listen to them. “Hey, Jude” must be your first song, but beyond the classics [Let it Be, Hard Day’s Night, I Saw Her Standing There, I Wanna Hold your hand etc] I hope “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” will hold a special spot in your heart, much like me.)

So, Mary. Sweet Mary. She was a real badass, you know. This one time, Sammy was hungry, so I decided to make, get this, French fries. I think I was seven. She caught me getting ready to pour oil in a very hot pan. When I say she swooped in, I mean it, quite literally. I think she saved me a hand that day.

Now, about John…You’ll have to forgive the mess that I’m about to make with this, but John was a fucking sorry excuse of a father, alright? He got piss-drunk every night after Mom died, and naturally, Sam and I were the punching bags, sometimes literally. The best nights were the ones he wasn’t home.

For years, the house was silent. Sam and I tried to keep everything clean, stock up on canned food, because at times we would only have ten bucks to hold us for over two weeks. I took him to school, fed him, made sure he studied –not that I really had to- and kept John of his hair. At sixteen I picked up a shift at Bobby Singer’s garage, a man that, at this point, deserves the Dad title significantly more than John.

Whenever Sammy was sick, it was my fault. Was anyone loud? Dean’s fault. House dirty? Dean’s fault. Did we wake him up? …Let’s just say we learned not to do that.

I tried to put myself before Sam, did anything I could to protect him. There were times when that wasn’t even enough.

I dropped out of high school at seventeen. The second I saved up enough money, I rented a hole of an apartment at the other side of town, in an attempt to help Sam have a normal life, and we hauled ass out of there.

Before I tell you about our shitty apartment, let me tell you about the highlights of my high school career. Starting off with me “unintentionally” kicking a ball at my least favorite teacher’s face (and hitting him) ((Don’t take your father’s example, kid, violence isn’t the answer.)) (Did feel pretty good at the time though), making out with Jenny in the Janitor’s closet and with Arthur at the locker rooms afterhours (I don’t know what age you’re reading this at, but I sure hope it’s over 16). Also, that one time I pulled a prank at my friend, Cole. I spray painted his entire locker. He didn’t like me very much, to be honest…

~~~~~

An important story I feel inclined to share with you, would be the fact that I was once a bully.

Kids are just mean, but also, I couldn’t understand that troubles at home, traumatic pasts and anger are not to be taken out on other people who are not at fault. Instead of finding a healthy way to deal with everything that was happening at home, I decided that every happy person that was weak enough to meddle with, didn’t deserve any happiness.

I picked on a couple of people, but I think the one I will always regret will be Kevin Tran.

Kevin was a freshman when I was in junior year. He was in the Math club, the Science club and the Robotics club. He had maybe two friends, he was skinny, short, shy as hell, he drowned himself in oversized clothes and always carried a neon green book bag around, that worked on me like red cloth to a bull.

Every time I spotted the bag in the hallway, the drill would start. Shoving the poor kid against the locker, calling him names and laughing at his face for no apparent reason. I’d steal his calculators when I found out he had chemistry tests, spray paint the door of his locker and cause rib bruises from my shoving him against walls and furniture.

I soon find out Kevin was severely depressed. In fact, I saw him in the back of the school, where I’d usually go out to smoke because I thought it was cool (it’s not, it makes you light headed, unfocused and struggle to breathe. Just an all-around terrible experience, but this is just a side-note.)

It was a Friday after school. I didn’t wanna go straight home and Sam still had one more period, so I decided to go smoke and listen to some music in the back of the school building. And that’s where I found him.

I don’t know into how much detail I should go here, but Kevin was harming himself. With a small pocket knife, he sat on an old basket and made incisions on his arms, tears running down his face like a faucet. My God, Hannah, I’ve never felt like a bigger piece of shit in my life, because I knew, and I knew very well, that at least part of those incisions were caused by me.

I called out to him, and the look on his face, as he scrambled away from me, made me feel so much worse. I was the scum of the earth at that moment. I was the biggest asshole on the planet.

My initial reaction, I’ll admit, was pretty harsh. I grabbed the pocket knife out of his hands and threw it as far as possible in the grass. I grabbed a small first aid kit I had in my bag (in case anything happens to Sam), made him sit down by force and bandaged him up. He’d been reduced to sniffles by the time I was done.

Somewhere in between, I remember, he asked me why I was doing this. I didn’t answer.

Eventually, when I was done, I sat on the ground in front of him, ripping blades of grass from the ground. I apologized. Something along the lines of “I didn’t know, not that that’s an excuse. What I’m going through is not an excuse, but I hope it makes you understand that it was nothing to do with you. I’ll stop. I’m sorry. Don’t do this to yourself, man.”

That evening, Kevin was one of the very first people who found out about John. His own dad had passed away, and things at home were rough with his mom. That, along with the whole depression thing… it wasn’t a good combo.

After a solid two hours of talking with him, making amends, apologizing profusely and getting my apology accepted (which I absolutely didn’t deserve by the way,) we made it back out front.

From then on, I stopped picking on anyone. Kevin and I actually became really good friends, though we drifted apart eventually. I think he works in Google now.

This is really important. I want you to pay attention and take heed of my words. There are a couple lessons in this story.

One, be kind. Always be kind. To everyone. It doesn’t matter if they’re going through a rough time or not, the same way it didn’t matter that Kevin’s father was dead. You don’t know the other person. There’s never a reason to not be kind, if the person has done nothing to you. A smile can make somebody’s day, a compliment can go a long way, and being open and honest and kind will make people who are looking for help find you, it will make other’s lives better, and if you��ve helped even a single person, your life has been successful.

Two, never, and I mean never take your emotional pain out on yourself, or others. There are healthy ways to deal with ugly emotions. There are people who can help. Find a new hobby, as silly as it sounds. Start doing something creative, something that draws your attention elsewhere, like art of any kind, or, in my case, fixing cars. Something to keep you busy. If you’re in trouble, emotional or otherwise, there are people who love and support you, who will do their mightiest to be by your side, and if those aren’t your friends, they’re definitely your family.

Bottling up emotions, or dealing with them in horrible, unhealthy ways has been my go-to. Don’t be like me. Express yourself in different ways, and don’t keep your feelings shoved under the carpet, because it will, absolutely, unceremoniously explode, and you’ll take people down with you. And that’s when you’ll feel like the worst person in the world. The guilt, the residue of said ugly feelings isn’t worth it. Trust me.

If you make mistakes, if you hurt people who don’t deserve it, learn from it, grow, be better. Do not sink into yourself , don’t hate yourself. Apologize, make amends and move on, try to never do the same thing. It’s okay. We’re all human. The only thing that matters is that you try to be better.

No matter what, remember that I will always love you.

~~~~

So. Our apartment back in Kansas was, as I told you, a real dump. It had a tiny-ass kitchen with a miniature stove, two mattresses that were creaky and lumpy and were left there by the previous owners, as well as the TINIEST bathroom you’ve ever seen. It didn’t have shower walls, it had a shower head and a drain on the floor and was not in any way separated from the toilet. The walls of the place were peeling, the floor was tiled and cracked in a bunch of places and the humidity must’ve been over 80%.

I fucking loved that place.

On our third day there, I borrowed some spray paints from Cole, carried them in a cardboard box up the claustrophobic, green stairs, and opened the door in absolute triumph. That day, Sam and I opened the two windows, scratched the paint off the walls with two spatulas and went WILD. It must’ve been the only day Sam didn’t study.

Actually, no, now that I think about it, there was another time, when little ol’ ten-year-old Sam fell off a ledge and freakin’ broke his arm. I dumped him on Cole’s bike and pedaled to the hospital like a maniac. That was the first day he didn’t study.

Anyways, that apartment wall made our crappy little living situation a home. Our own sanctuary. We finally got agency over our lives, from staying up late, to choosing which type of dish soap we’d use because it smelled better and didn’t remind us of the terror chores once were. Eventually, we got soft blankets, books, board games, decorations… Finally, after 18 years, we’d started our lives.

I think one of my favorite memories would be coming home from my first date with a guy. I was just 18 and Benny, the dude, kissed me before I left, his fists clutching at my flannel. I was driving home with a giant, dopey-ass smile, stretching from one ear straight to the other. That same night, with new-found confidence, I told Sammy to drop his book, bought ourselves some beers and snacks, and drove to my favorite clearing.

There, right under the stars, with Sammy trying out his first beer, I told him I’m bisexual, and the cute bastard hugged me and told me he loved me no matter what. That same night, he thanked me for everything I did for him while living with John. We talked until the sun was rising.

I’ll tell you this right now, kid, in case you haven’t gotten it yet. I love Sam. Love him to bits. I raised that kid all on my own and will do anything to protect him. I know he cares for me, I know it kills him to see me like this, in a bed, pale, miserable and coughing every three seconds. I just want you to know, honey, that whatever you need, anything at all that, for some reason, you don’t want to tell Dad, you go to Sam, okay? You can trust him to be supportive, loyal, to be there for you when no one else is and to love you like you’re his own daughter and best friend. I promise you, he will always, always be there when I’m not.

That night made us grow so much closer. The lesson here, I’d say, is be bold and confident in what you believe in and who you are. Be your own, unique self, be brave, and love whoever you choose to fully and with your whole heart, without shame, ever. If you are yourself, I promise, you’ll find the people that love you for you, not the person you’re pretending to be. You’ll inspire other to be themselves.

A good example of this would be my best friend, Charlie. When I came out, I was armed to the teeth to deal with whoever wanted to bully me for that part of me. To tell you the truth, my school coming out was a mishap. It takes nothing but a risky make-out session in the janitor’s closet and nosey students that rip doors open far too violently. Nevertheless, I was literally out of the closet, fists up. And that’s exactly when I met Charlie.

With her comic book stories and her books, her bubbly personality and bright smile, she wiggled her way into our lives and permanently stayed there. She was a freshman when I was a senior, but she seemed to find sanctuary by my side, as I did by hers. She was just one of those people who clicked, you know? Far too mature and interesting for her age, with an obsession with computers, even back when they were barely even a thing.

She now lives with her long-term girlfriend, Gilda, who owns the best bakery in the state. Ask for the apple pie, you will not be disappointed.

Charlie demanded of me to tell you, first off, to watch Marvel and screw DC right to hell (with which I have to agree, though Batman still remains one of the coolest Superheroes of my childhood (and Joker, the coolest villain)). She also told me that, if you read this, go ask her for her comics, She’d love to let you borrow them and she’s certain you’ll love them. Second off, she asked of me to tell you the Impala story…

It’s not as grand as she makes it out to be, honestly. However this is the part where you’ll learn all about the one and only Bobby Singer.

Bobby was my boss, an old friend of dad’s John’s and the first person who ever saw the bruises under my sleeves. He gave me a job, a family, and later on… a car.

Bobby owns a scrapyard. He taught me everything I know about cars, including driving, and for my seventeenth birthday, he brought a dusty, beat-up car in my workspace. The hood was bent, the seats were torn, and the engine needed immediate replacing. The customer never paid the price for the compartments the garage had paid, so under store policy, the car was ours.

Hannah, I can’t exactly describe to you how long it took me to repair that car. Buying the spare parts and assembling them would’ve probably taken less time. I built her from the ground up, it took me almost a month and a half of daily, eight-to-six work, but I made it. I fixed her up. She was in prime condition, and I had completely fallen in love with her.

I finished working on her early January, dreading the moment I would see her drive away. Bobby had seen all the effort, by then I’d worked at his place for over a year. So, on the day of my birthday, I opened my locker to put on my jumpsuit, when I saw a box placed on my neatly folded clothes. I’m sure you’ve guessed it by now. Yes. It was the keys to my dream car. A beautiful, sleek, black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, the one I had brought back to life. And it was all mine.

I don’t think I’ve hugged Bobby any tighter since then. Hell, I don’t think I’ve hugged him period.

That car… That car is probably the most stable thing in my life, apart from Sam, obviously. I’ve cried in that car, I’ve escaped from my terrible past, I’ve laughed, I’ve had my first time, I’ve been through breakups and I’ve spent my best days with it. I cherish it more than any other item I know. It’s not even an item, it’s my baby. I love it almost as much as I love you.

I met your dad, and kissed him for the first time in that car.

It’s actually a pretty fucking hilarious story. Cas was on a date with this guy who was completely disgusting and creepy as hell, so in true movie fashion he decided to, get this, jump out the bathroom window and escape.

Yeah.

So just as he was running out of the bar, the guy must’ve caught wind of him or something, because he stepped outside in order to find Cas. What did your dad decide to do, I hear you ask? He ducked behind a car in the parking lot, opened the first unlocked door he found, and jumped in.

Spoiler alert. It was my car.

I was sitting in the front seat, fighting with Sam through text when the door opened. It was highly comical, watching this guy duck behind the bench seat, mumbling “oh God, oh God, oh God, please don’t see me, oh God.” I cleared my throat.

“Oh, I see you, buddy.” That’s the first thing I told him. The look on his face and the genuine yelp, made me laugh a full belly laugh, and completely forget about my fight with Sam. He apologized profusely, explained panicked what had happened and begged me to stay in my car just for a couple minutes so the guy can lose him.

Long story short, we ended up going out ourselves. I don’t know how to explain it… we just clicked immediately. Like, there was a connection. Him and his big words, his baby blue eyes, his steady, deep and rough voice… I knew right away that all I wanted was to spend time with him, learn everything he was willing to share with me.

I’m so glad to have met your Dad. He was, is and always will be one of the best, kindest, most humble and genuine people on the planet. He sees the world from such a beautiful point of view that contradicts my eternal realism (he enjoys calling me pessimistic.) He’s a genuinely great person, and I can’t wait for you to figure so out yourself, if you haven’t already.

Of course, it wasn’t all fine and dandy. Meeting his parents was hellish. Let’s just say, Chuck and Naomi aren’t… the best people. They tried really, really hard to stop us from seeing each other, and eventually, they completely disowned Cas. He doesn’t like to talk about them much. His brother, Gabriel is an asshole, but a loveable one, while his other brother, Michael, you probably don’t know about. And you shouldn’t. Let’s just leave it at that. If Cas wants to share that story with you, he’ll do it at his own time.

I’m sure there’s a lesson to be learned here. Something about, when finding your person, to keep them, fight for them, don’t stop loving them because everyone else is telling you (unless of course that person is toxic). But I don’t think I can give you solid love advice through a dumb book. Every relationship is different, and your Dad’s better at this than me anyways.

I don’t know exactly how long this thing is, by this point, but I’ve almost finished the pages of this booklet. I was really, really worried I wouldn’t finish it in time, but here we are. However many thousand words later, and I’m clueless as to how to wrap this up.

My life isn’t over yet, however it looks like it soon will be. I will confess to you, I’m scared, but most of all I’m angry. I’m angry at the world, at life and fate, if that’s even a thing, at God even. I’ve fought my whole life for peace and quiet, and right when I have found it, it’s being ripped from under my feet. Cancer fucking sucks.

No matter, my chin is up, and so are my fists. Winchesters don’t give up easy. I will fight this until my last breath, even if the chance of watching you grow up and being able to tell you everything I’ve written face-to-face, is nothing but a sliver. After all, impossible odds were always my favorite.

Sweetheart… I don’t know what to say. This might be the only thing you have left of me for the rest of your life, and it tears me up inside. Of course, I will not be able to write thirty five years of experience in a small book such as this, but this is a part of me, memories you can keep all to yourself. Ask Dad or Sam about any of it, I’m sure they’ll fill some gaps, tell you things I haven’t written.

I don’t want you to cry much, even though I’m not sure you will at all, given the fact that you’ve never met me. Either way, whether you feel or think anything of me or not, I want you to know that I love you so much. I’ve only known you for a couple of months, and, already, you’re the brightest ray of sunshine in my life.

I promise I will be by your side no matter what happens, through every milestone and hardship, I will love you from wherever I am.

Honey, please stay true to yourself. Never give up, no matter what curveballs life throws at you. There’s always reason to keep going, even if you can’t see it. Always keep fighting, ‘till your last breath, ‘cause you’re a Winchester and you’ve absolutely got this.

If there is something I want you to remember from the scribbly mess I’ve made, it’s this:

I love you. I’m proud of you. I believe in you.

Go get ‘em, tiger.

Bonus:

Tears streaming down velvety soft cheeks, dainty fingers gripping the book tightly, like her life depends on it, Hannah stares at the ceiling and groans at the mess she is. It’s the second time she read that last bit, and just as she thought she’d gotten over it, here she is, crying just as hard as the first.

She gets off her bed, pulling on her sweater sleeves. Feet in slippers, she makes her way down the corridor, knocking on the door, and opening when she gets an answer. Her fingers grip the doorknob, the other clutching the book, and she stares at the bed, watching as green eyes look up from his laptop.

“Why did you give this to me, you ass, you’re not dead,” she sobs, and Dean pushes his laptop to the side, arms opening wide to invite her in them.

“Aw honey,” he coos, a gentle, loving smile on his face. Hannah climbs on the bed and slides to his side, curling up in his arms. “It’s okay.” Fingers stroking her hair gently, as sobs wrack through the poor girl’s body. Dean almost feels bad.

Just then, Cas appears in the doorway, having heard Hannah’s cries. He sees the booklet clutched in her arms, her face buried in Dean’s neck, hidden behind her spring-curly hair. He makes eye contact with his husband, a knowing half-smile on his lips, as he leans on the doorway.

“I love you,” Hannah says, nose stuffed and running. “Thank you for not giving up on a relationship with me, even when you didn’t think you’ll survive.” Tears wet Dean’s eyes, as he presses a kiss on the crown of her head.

“I love you too.”

#dean fluff #dean angst #destiel #daddy!dean #destiel dads #supernatural au #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn angst #spn fluff #oc

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horrorhousereview · 5 years

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Carrie Franchise

Carrie, the heart warming tale of a high school girl who sets the world on fire with her mind. I knew little else about the original film, nor that it had a sequel and been remade twice. While the original movie proved to be better than I'd have imagined, attempts to recapture the essence of the 1976 version have sadly fallen flat.

1. Carrie (1976)

When I sat down to the original Carrie, my expectations were moderate. I knew that the movie was famous, and that the protagonist could set things on fire with her mind, but really nothing else. It sounded interesting but not earth shattering. I had no idea the wild ride the movie was about to take me on.

The opening scene, in classic seventies style, was a soft core porn in a high school girls locker room as they showered. The porn gave me whiplash when Carrie suddenly got her first period, and instead of handling it like a normal person screamed for help and grasped onto her teammates with bloody hands in a panic. The girls teased her in a sequence that can only make sense in movies, not real life, shouting for her to "plug it up" and pelting her with tampons and pads as she screamed and cried in a corner. Apparently, Carrie had literally never heard about how periods work before. This is attributed to her crazy, fundamentalist mother, but I would also like to raise questions about the state of sex ed. in schools in the seventies. I wasn't expecting much, but did they really not even go over reproductive organs for five minutes? Incredible.

The bulk of the movie is a slow burn wherein we follow Carrie, a girl who is relentlessly bullied by her peers. Not only that, but she is actually a little weird, due to her fundamentalist Christian mother who abuses her at home. Her mother says such gems as that Carrie wouldn't have gotten her period if she hadn't had sex, and that it was God's punishment. She then proceeded to lock her in a closet for several hours, telling Carrie to pray. Carrie's mother makes all of their clothes, and doesn't allow electric lights in the household, just to give the very briefest depiction of how weird it is there.

Through the movie we see that the gym teacher, and then a few others actually try to do right by Carrie. A boy asks her to the prom. They try to turn Carrie's sad life around.

Meanwhile, the head bitch of the school plots revenge on Carrie, whom she blames for her own teenaged angst. She's a terrible person.

Right in the last stretch of movie, Carrie wins the title of prom queen. Her dreams are coming true. Then the head bitch douses her in pigs blood, and a few people laugh, and Carrie totally snaps and kills everyone with her mind, including those who had tried to do right. She goes home, and her mother who believed she was possessed by the devil tries to kill her, but Carrie in turn kills her mother. The sole survivor of the night continues to have nightmares of Carrie attacking her from the grave, and it isn't clear to me whether that's delusion caused by trauma or whether Carrie continued to haunt even her from the beyond.

What a wild ride. I didn't see the ending coming at all, and the shock and chaos of it very much reminded me of Friday the 13th, and The Birds. To add to that, I'm still not certain who the true villain of the movie is. Carrie? Her mother? Her terrible classmates? All of them? None? And did Carrie's mother create her through the abuse, or was Carrie truly possessed by the devil the entire time? Her retribution, after all, was more than a bit excessive.

I enjoyed Carrie far more than I had expected to.

Final rating? 8/10

2. The Rage: Carrie 2 (1999)

When I started Carrie 2, I was curious how they'd go about a sequel. Carrie had died at the end of the first film. Would this be a sort of prequel to her life? Would she be a ghost? Would they find a way to resurrect her, as they did Jason Voorhees so many times? In fact, it was none of these. The story follows Rachel, Carrie's half sister. Apparently their father has a telekinesis gene that was passed on to both of them, because that makes sense.

We start the movie when Rachel is a little girl. She has a religious nutter mother, just like Carrie, who is trying to banish the devil from her, because she can move things with her mind. The mother gets taken away to a psych ward and is diagnosed with schizophrenia. Is she schizophrenic? Or justified? Perhaps both.

Rachel lives with terrible foster parents, and like Carrie is unpopular. Unlike in Carrie, however, the school atmosphere is completely unrealistic. There's absolute chaos, someone running around with a supersoaker, another guy filming girls' boobs. The cheerleaders are practicing on the school lawn before school starts. I'm always astounded by how unrealistic high school is depicted in some movies and shows, considering that the writers probably attended one.

Also unlike Carrie, Rachel isn't the single social pariah of the entire school. She's just one of many unpopular students, and even has an unpopular best friend. The friend sleeps with a jock (the eldest son from Home Improvement, weirdly), and then when he casts her aside she kills herself by jumping off the roof. This, I guess, is the catalyst for Rachel's telekinesis to start spiraling out of control.

One of the teachers at the school is the sole survivor from the Carrie incident twenty years ago. She wants to help Rachel before it's too late, but that never gains any traction. She also wants to sue Home Improvement boy for statutory rape, and while he and his friends are thoroughly disgusting that felt like a bit of a stretch to me. As a result, the jocks rally against Rachel, all except for Good Jock. Rachel and Good Jock start dating, and Good Jock temporarily friend-divorces the other jocks.

The story culminates in Rachel thinking that Good Jock used her due to the influence of his friends, and she has her Carrie moment where she tries to set everyone and everything on fire. Until this point the echoes of Carrie in Carrie 2 were stupid but boring. The carbon copy ending pushed the film into the realm of terrible.

In addition to the same end scene, they even had the original Carrie mother's voice repeating "they're all going to laugh at you" in the background of Rachel's mind, just as from the original Carrie ending. Why? How? What was it supposed to imply? As if that didn't ruin the scene enough, there was a hilariously bad performance of violent acts -- such as mentally flung CDs acting as shurikens. And Rachel's heart tattoo began to beat, and the barbed wire of it spread to mark her entire body. Again, why? How?

I finished this movie wondering why they'd bothered to make it at all, and also wondering how they failed so spectacularly in capturing whatever magic it was that had made Carrie so fantastic, while simultaneously copying as much from the original movie as possible.

Final rating: 3/10

3. Carrie (2002 made for TV film)

Like all good movies, it was perhaps inevitable that someone would do a remake of Carrie. I was skeptical of the 2002 made for TV movie, but I wanted so much for it to offer something unique. Some remakes actually do have artistic vision behind them. Unfortunately, it was as terrible as one might expect.

The main point to the remake, so far as I can tell, was to update Carrie to take place in a more modern setting. But what exactly was unrelatable about the 1976 film? The lack of sex education is the only real flaw so far as I could tell, and to be fair, the 2002 film does address it. Carrie opts out of sex ed. with a religious exemption. But she also lives in the world of the internet, and uses the web to research her secret powers instead of the library. Yet even with apparently websites helping her to learn them, no one else knows about telekinesis or believes what happened in the end. The modern setting, in my opinion, only built more plot holes rather than filling them in.

In Carrie 2002, the method of story telling is also different. We start off at a police station, after the main events of the film, as detectives interview students and teachers and try to piece together what had happened. I'm not sure what the point of the investigative narrative is, and in fact it threw me. In my experience, the point of having such a perspective is so that each time we're actually inside of the movie, the events we see are only told from the limited point of view of whoever is being interviewed. But that isn't so in Carrie 2002, because we frequently have perspectives from Carrie, who isn't interviewed at all, nor is she seen from the perspective of any of the interviewees. As such, the investigative angle is a weakness, not a strength.

Like Carrie 2, Carrie 2002 features a somewhat unbelievable vision of high school. Every detail, to me at least, is not quite sold. In fact, "not quite" is the theme of the movie, as every key aspect of the original film seems diminished.

Carrie's mother is abusive, but not very. She's religious, but not nearly as much so. The girls at Carrie's school are mean to her, but only to a point. The head orchestrator of Carrie's torments is almost shy in comparison to her original counterpart, and has to be goaded on by the advice of her sociopathic boyfriend. It's quite the departure from the sociopathic girl of the original movie with the whipped boyfriend following in tow.

The gym teacher does care, but she doesn't care nearly as much. The kind boy who takes Carrie to prom seems nice enough, but mostly seems to take Carrie because of his girlfriend's wishes. In the original, there was at least some foreshadowing of his kindness when he spoke up for her slightly in class.

Even the final scene of the movie felt lesser. At points it almost felt goofy, and like Carrie 2, Carrie 2002's final scene felt over the top. She kept going well after the school was destroyed, and proclaimed not to have remembered what happened when she reached home. While Original Carrie seemed to be in shock, Remake Carrie seemed to instead be purely evil, all nuance lost. Rather than the knife battle with the mother, the mother tried to drown her, and Carrie's over-the-top powers manifested again in an ability to visualize and control the mother's heartbeat in her chest.

The coup de grace as far as terrible decisions in the remake is that Carrie actually lived in the end. Sue, the girl who'd gone out of her way to help Carrie get a date to prom, showed up for some reason at Carrie's house after the massacre, and found her drowned but resuscitated her. She helped Carrie escape to a new life in Florida and didn't tell the truth to the cops. Why? I have no earthly idea. I suppose that she felt sorry for Carrie, but with the luke-warm mother and the brick-to-the-face storytelling, this film failed to manifest any of the conflicting feelings in me as the original. A final shot of Carrie shows that she's still haunted by visions of her mother and of the head mean girl, but they seem to be PTSD with no possibility of a haunting. It's a sad, pale shadow of the Carrie-haunting of Sue at the end of the original.

In the end, I'm not really sure why they felt a need to remake Carrie in 2002. Or if they really felt they must, then I fail to see the artistic vision. In any good remake, there should be some element offered that is uniquely its own. In this case, the writers failed to deliver.

Final rating? 3/10

4. Carrie (2013)

Once again, they decided to remake Carrie. Would it be as creative as the original? Unfortunately not. Instead, they made many of the same mistakes that they had in 2002.

Like the 2002 movie, Carrie 2013 is set in modern times. They give the students the internet and cell phones to make things seem more current, then randomly put Carrie in pool volley ball because somehow that's more relatable than the volleyball of the original movie. Throughout this adventure I've wondered why they've felt the need to change the sport, and am always curious to see which one it will be next. First volley ball, then softball, now the pool.

The first major misstep of this film, right off the bat, is that Carrie is incredibly conventionally attractive. No one can beat the sort of awkward and strange look of the original actress, although the casting in 2002 wasn't too bad. But in 2013, for some reason we get a completely normal, or even above average looking girl who can have no makeover on prom night, as she already looks amazing. Not only is the aesthetic off, but she fails to deliver the awkward mannerisms that go hand in hand with the character of Carrie.

Next, we come to the iconic opening scene, which as in the 2002 remake remained mostly intact. However, in Carrie 2002 the only truly redeemable thing was that Carrie's lack of sexual education had been explained by a religious exemption. For some reason, in 2013, we no longer have any excuse or idea how she has no idea what a period is. In the modern day setting, this is all the more difficult to swallow.

The writers seemed to want to correct a few of the 2002 mistakes: the head bad girl was more cacklingly evil, the good jock was once again good in his own right and had a little foreshadowing. But they kept some of the mistakes as well -- the bad girl's boyfriend being a criminal, and most notably Carrie's overpowered telekinesis. In 2013, it's probably more overt than ever before, as Carrie deliberately practices floating books around her, though perhaps it's not as spectacular as the random meteorites striking inexplicably in either Carrie 2 or 2002, I can't remember which.

Much like in its 2002 predecessor, Carrie 2013's mother has been reduced. She's not nearly so abusive as the original 1976 mother, instead turning much of her abuse inward, as she's seen slapping herself, and banging her head against a wall. She's also not as extreme in her rejection of electricity as in 1976. All of this -- the more pathetic mother, the stronger Carrie, serve to lose all the nuance of the original film. I'm not left thinking that everyone -- the school bullies, Carrie, and her mother -- are terrible. Instead, it read a bit like a '90s slasher film in the end scene, as Carrie spread her arms into the air like a caricature of a witch while she mentally flung things to and fro. Gone was the echo of the mother's voice in her head, and instead it was a rather boring scene, with none of the detached horror that I've come to associate with Carrie.

In fact, when Carrie arrived home after the devastation, she was visibly upset, bursting into tears and calling for her mother. That's a far cry from the original Carrie that had arrived at her home in a kind of stupor, washing herself methodically as if in shock or perhaps still possessed.

One improvement over the 2002 film was that they did kill Carrie as in the original. But one misstep? They still needed Sue Snell to make a final appearance in the final destruction. To what purpose? So that Carrie could tell her with preternatural ability, that she was pregnant. Why add this to Carrie's powers? Why have this scene at all? And instead of Carrie simply haunting Sue's thoughts as in the 1976 original, now she seems to be possibly, somehow, haunting Sue's baby. It's a ridiculous decision and I have no idea why they made it.

Final rating? 2/10

#horror #movie #review

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mininky · 5 years

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I'm feeling a bizarre need to wax nostalgic after talking to a client today. This will be very long and smattered with details that might seem unnecessary but I feel are needed to paint an accurate picture. This is the story about how I learned that shitting on fandoms makes you worse than however shitty you think that fandom is. Also, this does go over sensitive topics such as abuse so please read at your own risk.

Years ago, in the olden days of myspace when only college students could use facebook and tumblr was most likely but a mere thought I had hit an odd time in my life. Puberty hit me like a freight train the summer before I was to start high school. I had always been a very, very small child. I was the runt of the litter, born barely over three pounds, and that continued most of my life. Until right before high school. Prior to the sudden thrust into young adulthood, I had been small enough to still fit into most of my kindergarten clothes, I was just that small. Also, most of my clothes were thrift finds that were slightly too big, so that did have a part to play in this. And then came that summer, the summer from hell. For the first time I weighed over 100 pounds, and I'm pretty sure my rapidly growing chest was honestly what helped tip that scale. I went from not needing a training bra (whatever the fuck those are for) to suddenly being a full C and still growing, grew about four inches over summer, and had old ladies telling me I had child birthing hips at church (which can I just add is really fucking creepy to say to a fucking child.) (Not to mention the sudden learning of catcalls and creepy adult men.)

I can distinctly remember around the fourth time I told my mother in a period of about three months I didn't fit the bra she literally bought just the month prior her breaking down and saying that she couldn't afford to keep getting new ones. Luckily I worked at a used bookstore and while I was only paid in books (it was honestly a great deal for me) the owner felt so bad when I told her this she gave me a couple hundred bucks cash. That was when I first learned that tits are fucking expensive.

As with all young teenagers entering into high school I was scared shitless. I had somehow managed to convince my parents to allow me to enroll in a small art school that was a serious commute from our house. Considering that the public school I was supposed to go to had serious gang violence issues as well as a few cops who had been killed there recently, for once in their terrible parenting career they agreed with me. So here I was on the first day of high school surrounded by a bunch of kids I'd never met before, with a new body that didn't even feel like mine, in a part of town that I'd never been to. Now, being the new kid wasn't new to me. I'd played my role as the new kid more than a dozen times at this point in my academic career, and I was usually able to just hide quietly in a corner and either be bullied or ignored by the world. But high school felt like a new chance. And an arts school at that. Until I realized that the office fucked up all of my classes and somehow, instead of being placed in creative writing I got placed in dance.

Now let me explain a bit of background on this school. It was god awful in almost every way shape and form. Anarchy comes close to describing how this school ran. The principal snorted coke frequently throughout the day, most of the students would just leave classes to go hang out, drugs were a serious problem. And I'm not talking about kids coming in rolling or slightly high, no I mean you want it someone has it. Whatever you fancy. But the dance program? Best. In. The. State. Well known by scouts. I know people who went on to be in Cirque du Soleil and Julliard. That good. It was the only thing in this shithole of a school that brought in money and kept it running. Now there were other seriously amazing teachers, but they usually didn't last long because of Mr. snortsalotofwhitepowder.

And here I was, with this awkward new body, riddled with anxiety, self-loathing, and teenage angst-fueled now stuck in this dance class with girls that had been dancing before they could fucking walk. Luckily there were two other girls who had never danced before. I was still the worst out of all of them. Now my dance teacher had a few rules. Anyone who wanted to dance could join her class, and everyone had to start from the beginning class no exceptions. There were no tryouts, no prior experience needed. The other rule? You never, ever, ever pressure someone into a weight range. Bodies can move in beautiful ways in all different forms was her philosophy. And the last rule? No cussing. Which seemed like a lot of rules because, again, the school was verging on being run completely by drug-addled angst-filled teenagers.

Now I hated this class before I ever stepped foot in it, at no fault of my teacher. I had always been horribly uncoordinated, and while some might have felt glee at rapid body changes I had found myself (like most young girls I think) incredibly uncomfortable at having to spend hours upon hours a week staring at this new form in freaking tights and a leotard in mirrors. I was also terrified of failing anything, and once again I seriously sucked at this class. I couldn't handle not being good at something when I thought I was finally going to a place where I could be...you know good and happy and accepted but the world had other cruel plans for me. But the biggest reason why I hated this class? My dance teacher, which again wasn’t really fair to her. To say I loathed her very existence that first quarter doesn't really begin to describe just how much I wanted to see her spontaneously burst into flames and be gone from my life. She ruled with an iron fist, which shouldn't be surprising considering that she was an award-winning ballerina and modern dancer who was Russian classically trained, had a six-pack on her six-pack and possibly ate nails for breakfast. (I would later find out that her eating habits were terrible and she rarely touched a vegetable.)

It wasn't unusual for there to be a lot of screaming from the dance teacher. One of my favorite lines to repeat from her is, "My dead grandmother can plie better than you from her coffin!" Lots of screaming, lots of failing, lots of crying from other girls. I was one of the few who never broke. I may have been a terrible dancer who looked like a newborn gazelle but I lived in a verbally and physically abusive home. Screaming was something I had learned to tune out by the time I was six. As long as there wasn't a phonebook near me I could hold my own. No, I hated her more because I was forced into her class and she couldn't let me slide just because I didn't want to be there. I mean, there was no slack at all for any of us, even the inexperienced.

But one day, my hatred for my dance teacher morphed into a surge of platonic love/idolization. And my hatred for dance would suddenly turn into this need to turn it (and my new awkward body) into my bitch. I had left my script in the changing room and needed to get it before practice started. My teacher had her own performance coming up and was practicing to Radiohead's 'exit music.' I had never seen anything like this. It was a story written by a body. One of pain and love and misery. One that spoke to my angsty soul. This was the first time that I cried in public. I mean it was really just her and I, but it was at school so I think it counts. I will still swear up and down to this day that there is no greater dancer than her. When she moves it's like you have to listen, not watch, listen. I wanted that, I wanted to be able to turn my stories into dances. If I couldn't have my creative writing class I'd turn dance into a new form of writing.

After that, I started spending all of my free time in that room. I was constantly practicing. I didn't care how badly bruised or bloody I was, I kept going. Dislocated my shoulder? Pop it in and keep moving, take some Advil later. But the real moment I knew that my dance teacher deserved all of my respect and idolization was a few things that would follow. When she realized that I was spending most of my time crashing on friends couches and didn't have money for lunch she would stash food for me. When she realized that I had horrible periods and would go through boxes each cycle she kept extra pads and tampons in the locker room for anyone along with a giant bottle of Midol. When I had been out for about two weeks because my father beat the shit out of me and nearly killed me and a teacher threatened to not allow makeup exams because 'it was my choice to not be in school' she must have realized something was up in my home because I'm not sure what was said or even how she knew but I've heard from various sources and all I can say is that in the middle of a class my dance teacher burst in and threatened that teacher into allowing me my makeup exams.

She might have ruled with an iron fist and spent most of time in class screaming AGAIN, MY GOD JUST DO WHAT I SHOWED YOU, AGAIN but she was most certainly the best adult I had ever known at that point. On some days after class, she would even listen to songs I was choosing to choreograph to and we would spend time talking about bands that she used to see and her favorite music. She had seen Type O and Nirvana live, she actually liked WhiteChapel and Tupac and she had all these really bizarre tastes in music just like me and my little weird goth girl who grew up in underprivileged neighborhood heart sang each time we made a musical match because no one listened to both metal and rap at that time and holy cow someone else thinks that Bone Thugs is great but also really digs Dolly Parton and MCR? I was sure that nothing could knock her off the pedestal in my heart I had made for her. Not even when I found out she smoked, or ate McDonalds constantly, or actually cussed like a sailor outside of school. No that just made her cooler and more human to me. That is...until I found out that she loved Twilight.

Now I had tried reading Twilight and I thought that comparing it to a flaming pile of garbage would be an insult to all landfills. I could see my world shatter around me. I had felt betrayed. Until later that night when I lay on yet another friend's couch recalling that moment. She had overheard me making a comment about how disgusting the book was. "Can you believe they're turning that shitshow into a movie?" Probably something about how the total audience IQ was lower than average combined and some other very very meanspirited bitchy stuff that still causes me pain today. And then swooped in my dance teacher from nowhere, "I like the books. I can't wait for the movie. Things don't always have to be good, or what you like. They can just be fun. You don't have to ruin it for others." Hours later I would realize that I had betrayed my dance teacher, not the other way around. I had done the very thing most people did to me, I shit all over one of the things she loved. And I felt sick. I actually went to class early with her favorite soda to awkwardly mumble out an apology and she just laughed and said not to worry, but I realized then that she was right.

Shitting all over a fandom makes you far, far shittier than however shitty you think the fandom is. Now listen, there are plenty of fandoms that I still internally go 'holy shit woah' but I will never, ever verbally say it. Because life is really short, and whatever you want to like, whatever gives you a second of joy even if it's the butt of every joke then who fucking cares? As long as no one else is being hurt because of it, then I say go for it. Listen, the older I've gotten the more I've realized that life just generally sucks. For the most part. That isn't the angsty teenager in me talking, that's the honest adult. It honestly does. But whatever small little thing that makes the cesspool of life seem interesting and it isn't hurting others in the process of enjoying it? Fucking awesome man! I'm happy for you! I'm glad you found something you like! And if someone shits all over whatever fandom you're in? Well, they're an asshole, and I hope that somehow they get stuck in my old dance class with my teacher so maybe at the very least she can scream in their face until they break.

#trigger warning #fandoms #wow this is really fucking long

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imaginekpoplikethis · 6 years

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A Cold Heart - Jeon Jungkook X Rebel! Reader - One Shot?

Hey kids! (She says whilst knowing full well she has yet to become an adult)

It’s been too long... you’ve all probably forgotten about me :’) but I was really inspired from a scene I watched about two days ago. It really got me thinking about situations like the one posed here and why most of the time, people don’t do anything... so I wrote a story with an outcome that isn’t really seen that much.

I think I may need to start leaving warnings in my stories so i’ll start here.

Warning: Swearing, violence and bullying ahead. Please, if any of this upsets you don’t read ahead.

I hope you enjoy reading this. Maybe I’ll make a second part later on.

Glancing towards the clock that sat on the wall at the front of the classroom, you couldn’t help but scowl. Mathematics was probably the most stress inducing lesson you had ever encountered so there was no wonder why you would rather be anywhere but there.

“I should of skipped this crappy lesson.” Your mumble had caught the attention of your seat mate, Jungkook, who blinked several times. He probably couldn’t fathom why you would ever even think about skipping a lesson.

“If...” The single word that escaped his lips effectively made you snap your head towards him, scowl still on your face. He squeaked at the intensity of your glare which made you feel slightly guilty. He was a shy boy, barely speaking up in class. In fact, the only times you ever hear him speak is when you either force him into a conversation or he’s with his friends from the above years.

Sighing, you dropped your scowl and instead replaced it with a bored expression. “Sorry. What were you saying.”

He noticeably gulped and parted his lips to continue his sentence. “If you want... I can lend you my notes after the lesson. You... look like you’re so bored you can sleep.”

You sat in silence for what seemed like a good few minutes before you decided to reply to him. He was basically hinting that you could go to sleep and he would have you covered. When you had chose to deliver your answer to him, the poor boy was sweating in nervousness.

“Yeah... thanks. I appreciate that.”

Slowly laying your head upon your desk, you shut your eyes and prepared yourself to drown out your teachers droning.

“No problem. You shouldn’t skip anymore lessons...”

The hint of concern in his voice had you opening one eye to stare at his turned face. His attention was devoted to whatever was outside the window, a faraway look decorating his face.

“No one cares if I do anyway...”

He didn’t reply.

A week later you found yourself being scolded for arriving at school late. Two boys stood beside you, ones hands in his pockets and the other seemingly shitting bricks as a teacher screamed at you all about tardiness.

“Do you really expect to get anywhere in life if you’re constantly late!? I suppose you’re going to turn up late to your wedding, kids birthdays and even your own funeral then!?”

A scoff slipped out as you made a face at his ridiculous words, your eyes trained elsewhere.

“And you!” He pointed the classic thirty centimetre ruler at you, his anger clearly rising.

“Y/F/N! This is what? The eighteenth time this term! When are you going to pull yourself together!?” It seemed like he repeated the same line every single time he caught you late.

“I don’t know... when god wants me to.” That seemed to be the final straw as his shoulders tensed and the carefree boy beside you snickered, the other staring at you in utter horror.

“Y-you! I ought to-“ He lifted the ruler, seemingly to smack you on the head with it before the bell rung. It stopped short of a few centimetres and he dropped his arm down.

“Get to class. And fix your uniform! There are buttons on that shirt for a reason.” You glanced down at your unbuttoned shirt, a graphic T-shirt proudly on display.

“Yeah yeah. See you later.” Lifting your hand as a farewell, you grabbed your bag from the floor, flinging it over your shoulder and making your way to your class.

It wasn’t until you had climbed the stairs to your class’ floor when you had been stopped again, though for an entirely different matter.

Jungkook was backed against a wall, two boys you recognised from your class crowding him.

“Come on, it’s no big deal. You probably get plenty.”

The typical bullying was occurring right before you, both boys probably asking for his money. He stuttered and his eyes landed on yours. He seemed to be begging you to step in, to do something.

What could you do?

One of the boys turned towards you, raising an eyebrow at your frozen form.

“What’s wrong, sweet cheeks? Got something to say.” You shot him a dirty look at the nickname he used.

“Don’t call me that you creep.” Scowling, you turned on your way, back to the class you were all late for. Their laughter filled the hall as you tried to shake the feeling of disappointment being burnt into you.

Jungkook returned ten minutes later, not speaking a word.

You stood before the headmaster of your school, decorated in fresh cuts and bruises. What started off as a simple argument had quickly escalated into a full blown fight with another student that morning. Said student stood beside you, giving you disgusted looks every so often.

“I expect you two to write letters of apology to each other during your next period. If you do not do as I have asked of you, you will not be able to attend any of your next lessons.”

Fine by me. There’s maths later today anyway.

You and the boy nodded your heads in understanding and you were both dismissed, heading straight for the detention room. You walked in utter silence, watching your scraped legs as blood oozed from several cuts.

“Are you going to pay for the damage you caused to my uniform? I can’t let this slide so easily.”

You rolled your eyes and turned towards the boy, an extremely displeased look on your face.

“Are you going to pay for the damage you caused to my uniform? I recall you throwing the first punch you idiot.” He breathed out through his nose in amusement.

“Wow, you really are one heck of a girl. It’s too bad you can’t be obedient and listen to your higher ups.”

Normally, that would have set you off again but you had been drained of any remaining energy you had fighting this particular student.

“Do you ever shut up? You think just because mummy and daddy have a bit more money than the rest of us you’re a higher up? Do me a favour and use that money to buy a muzzle and put it on yourself.”

He was shocked to say the least, having stopped in the middle of the hallway. Just as you were reaching your destination, a familiar face rounded the corner.

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the sight of your ruined uniform and scraped limbs. He rushed over to you, a hand digging around his pocket, searching for something. This came as a surprise to you as he had been ignoring you since the day you had ‘betrayed’ him.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He finally pulled out a packet of tissues and plasters, handing them to you. A popular cartoon character named Ryan was decorating said plasters and you noticed he had one stuck on his face.

Taking the plasters and tissues from him, you opened your mouth to answer only to be interrupted by the smug voice of the boy you had scuffled with.

“Oh, would you look at that? The couple have matching plasters.” He smirked at his delayed pathetic comeback as he entered the room, your fist clenching and ruining the pristine condition of Jungkook’s plasters.

“Keep. Them.” You gritted these two words out and entered the room, slamming the door shut.

When you eventually returned back to class later that day and opened your locker, the pack of plasters were sitting on the base having been slid under the door.

Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

When you woke up late for school on a Wednesday morning, you decided to just skip the whole day. Your mother and father had left for work earlier in the morning leaving you alone in the house. They never would have let you skip a day if they had a say in the matter. However, they were parents who had work commitments and had no control over what you do when they are not around. You supposed it was a good thing on your part though that didn’t mean you didn’t feel guilty everytime you did it.

When the afternoon rolled around, you made the decision to get some fresh air. It was around the time schools finished so you weren’t surprised to find students from your own school walking around. A few of your classmates eyed you as you walked towards the supermarket, a blank expression on your face.

When you neared your destination, two girls who sat in front of you in class had taken it upon themselves to gossip rather loudly. Having not attended school today, it only made sense for you to listen in on what you had missed.

“Jungkook really has it bad, huh? Gosh, I can’t imagine having to live like that everyday!” A giggle escaped the girl who had been talking and her friend joined in.

“Well, no one likes a know-it-all. What do they call them? A teachers pet! Though I don’t think the teacher likes him very much either...”

They both burst into laughter whilst you walked silently behind them. The taller of the two placed a hand on her companions shoulder, attempting to stifle her chuckling when she noticed you from the corner of her eye.

“Ah-! Sorry...”

She stepped to the side, her friend doing the same when she noticed the dark scowl that had settled on your face. They probably assumed it was due to their slow walking.

Passing both students, you trained your glare straight ahead of you, not intending to say anything but words still slipped out of your mouth.

“Airheads like you two fucking imbeciles should focus on yourself rather than others.”

One choked on her saliva at your words whilst the other widened her eyes at your retreating figure.

You couldn’t stand your classmates.

The next day, you found yourself sitting beside Jungkook, actually paying attention to your teacher. It was unavoidable really.

You had entered school this morning only to be called straight to the headmasters office. He had insisted that you attend school everyday otherwise your absences would result in an indefinite time of suspension. That was one thing you couldn’t do to your parents.

They don’t deserve that.

Jungkook nervously nudged you, breaking you out of your chain of thoughts.

“Uh- it’s good to see you back... do you want the notes for yesterday’s lessons?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he would even bother to help you after you left him to those bullies all those weeks ago.

“Y-yeah, thanks...”

He let a soft smile spread on his lips before looking down at his workbook.

“Please stop skipping school. I guess... this class is more bearable with you here.”

Your heart seemed to skip a beat at his words, confusion washing over you at the feeling. When you had gotten over your initial shock, you looked up at Jungkook only to find him already staring at you, smile still on his face.

“Oh. Okay.” Before you could stop yourself, a gentle smile took over the straight line that was present almost twenty four seven.

“For the record, it’s more bearable with you too.”

Jungkook flushed, quickly turning to the window to hide his face.

Ever since that day you had promised yourself to attend school as much as possible. You weren’t sure why Jungkook’s words affected you the way they did but you knew that what you had told him was true. It was definitely more bearable with him there.

Weeks later, you lay in your bed staring at your bedside clock that read half ten in the morning. You hadn’t been sick enough to miss school for years yet here you were, debating whether you should get up. Turning on your side, you pulled the covers up over your head, groaning.

Your bed seemed like the most fitting option for your current circumstances yet imagining Jungkook sitting alone didn’t sit well with you. That’s why you arrived in front of your schools gates an hour and a half later, entering through the reception to register in late.

Walking up the painfully long stairs, you finally reached the corridor of your class. You had managed to make it in time for lunch, so you weren’t too surprised to find students walking the halls with you.

Nearing your class, you finally noticed the obnoxiously loud laughing erupting from multiple students. Your eyebrows immediately furrowed at the sound and you stopped in your tracks when the sound of singing traveled through the doors.

Taking several steps forward, you passed the windows and caught sight of your whole class sitting down and laughing with each other, their attention focused on something at the front of the class.

Jungkook was stood there, singing whilst the two boys who had been harassing him had their arms thrown across his shoulders, poking his face and ruffling his hair.

You had never seen such a disgusting sight. What was even more disgusting is that no one seemed to care that bullying was taking place right in front of their own eyes. They just contributed, either blocking their ears and making faces or recording the whole scene.

You dragged yourself towards the door of the class and lifted your hand towards the knob. Stopping yourself, you watched with wide eyes as your hand trembled.

Why?

You felt strangely hot but cold at the same time. Nervous.

You knew how he must of felt.

Terrified.

But why? They’re just kids like us.

You heard his voice break from beyond the door, his singing getting quieter.

Sometimes, kids are the worst type of people.

It was then that you stopped shaking.

Your hand finally reached the doorknob and you slammed the door open. All eyes were on you, though no one seemed too bothered.

The usual scowl wasn’t present, just a neutral expression. Jungkook had stopped singing. It was over.

Making your way to your seat, you dropped your bag on your desk and prepared yourself to sit down when the class continued with their actions.

“Who told you to stop singing? Come on, you have one more audience member to impress, I’m sure you’d want them to hear you sing.”

He violently shoved Jungkook, who glanced at you with tears in his eyes, the same desperation held in them from the last incident.

When you left him alone.

He continued from where he let off when you remained silent. Your hand twitched, mouth pressing into a frown.

Then you were walking to the front, the occupants of the room each turning their eyes to you. Once you reached Jungkook, you slapped a hand over his mouth, effectively stopping all sound from coming out.

“Woah, I guess it’s not wanted here. Sorry man, thought you could win your favourite person over but I guess-“

You swung your fist at his face, the sound making everyone gasp as he stumbled back onto the floor. Shaking your hand to rid it of the pain that came along with such an action, you stomped towards him and began to kick at him though his companion was quick to grab you under your arms and pull you back.

“You crazy bitch! What do you think you’re doing!?” Throwing your head back, it connected with his chin causing him to release you. It turns out that wasn’t your smartest move since your vision blurred and the sickening feeling you had all morning intensified. Staggering back, you placed your hand to your head, blinking several times.

It took longer than you expected to recover as you were restrained from behind once again by the boy you had attacked first. He pressed your body into the board on the wall, all the while Jungkook stood frozen in place. Right at that moment, two boys you recognised as Jungkook’s older friends entered your class, causing the boy to release you.

“What the fuck is going on here? Shouldn’t you all be eating or something?” The boy who spoke had a bored expression on his face whilst the other had his arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on his own.

“Isn’t that Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon?”

“What-“

“It’s over for them now!”

Chatter broke out amongst the students and the two perpetrators of the whole incident slowly backed out of the class through the other door.

“Hey, where do you pieces of shit think you’re going?”

The one known as Min Yoongi exited the room, following the students whilst Kim Namjoon placed his arm around Jungkook, muttering to him and guiding him out of the class. You now stood alone at the front of the classroom, facing the board.

“That was so unexpected!”

“Why did she flip like that?”

“I don’t know but it was still funny. I caught the whole thing on camera.”

Whipping around at the last sentence, your eyes landed on a girl with short hair who was proudly displaying the video.

Within the next few seconds her phone was in your hand and thrown on the floor aggressively, her face dropping in utter shock.

“What are y-“

“I guess you all think this is funny?”

The class was silent for the umpteenth time as they watched you make your way to the centre of the class.

“‘Oh, he’s being humiliated in front of all of us! Oh well, it’s not like he has feelings, dignity or even pride!’ That must be what you’re all thinking. There can’t be any other explanation for why you’re all so fucking twisted in the heads that you would let someone be treated like absolute shit.”

Some students looked to the side in guilt whilst others stared on in surprise.

“You’re all so fucking inhumane! What is wrong with you!? He’s your classmate, he’s a human being! You laugh now but what happens next? You think he’ll go home and laugh too? God knows what he wants to do after you all tear him apart like that.”

You headed straight for your desk and grabbed your bag, walking towards the door.

“You’re all losers. I can’t stand you. Change your attitudes towards others because newsflash, you’re no better than anyone else.”

You went straight home after that.

“What’s wrong?”

For the first time in what seemed like forever, your mother had entered your room with a tray carrying soup and medicine. She hadn’t had to take care of you like this since you were five years old. That was why when you called her after arriving home just after lunch had finished, she left work early and headed straight home.

“Well, I’m sick in case you couldn’t tell.” She released a chuckle at your words before placing the tray on your bedside table.

“I know that. I mean what’s wrong with school? I can tell something is bothering you.”

That was all it took for everything to come flooding out. Your feelings, your behaviour, you even admitted to skipping school many times before. The disappointed look your mother shot you at the last part had you shrinking in guilt. You missed being able to converse with your mother much more than you had initially realised and you vowed to do so more often.

“I’m going to ignore the last bit for now. But honestly, I’m proud of you. For standing up for others when no one else will. Your behaviour in school is something that needs to be fixed but all in all, you’ve matured beautifully. Knowing what’s right and what’s wrong is something you should take pride in. Evidently, not many of your classmates can do so.”

You drew your blanket up higher, covering your lower face in embrassment. You didn’t do too well with praise or compliments despite it being your mother delivering them.

“Thanks...”

A warm smile took over her face before she leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead affectionately.

“Make me even more proud and do well in school. I love you.”

Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you then released a huff of amusement.

“Love you too.”

When you returned to school two weeks later after receiving news of your suspension, eyes were all on you as you entered your class. Whispering amongst each other, your classmates eagerly watched you as you took your seat beside a silent Jungkook.

He craned his head towards you, a grin on his flushed face as he pushed a book towards you.

“These are the notes you missed out on.”

You nodded your thanks before accepting it, thinking of what to say. He beat you to it.

“Thanks for what you did. I-... it’s gotten much better since then. People have actually laid off me...”

He shyly smiled to himself while looking down at his own desk causing you to feel and immense sense of relief.

“I’m glad...”

“So... do you want to hang out after school? I need to thank you properly for all you’ve done for me.”

You nodded all too eagerly, catching yourself by surprise. Quickly you regained your composure, placing your hand on his forearm.

“Definitely.”

You both exchanged smiles, yours smaller than his but still there, when you’re moment was interrupted by another classmate bounding up to you both.

“Hey guys. How are you?”

Your reply was a blank stare whilst Jungkook blinked several times in confusion.

“Come on guys! I’m just greeting you.”

Jungkook glanced at you before returning his attention to the girl, answering for the both of you.

“Good, I guess...”

“Ah that’s great! Anyway...”

She leaned forward, a smile stretching from ear to ear.

“That was so cool what you did for Jungkook! I was going to say something myself but you beat me to it. Gosh, people can be so rude right?” She seemed as if she was trying to gain your approval for a reason unbeknownst to you, glancing at Jungkook every now and then with hooded eyes. You suddenly mumbled something, causing her to snap her head back to you.

“S-Sorry, What was that?”

You sighed dramatically. It was only your first five minutes back and you could already feel your temper reach its end.

“I said, stop breathing in my fucking face and get lost.”

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newstechreviews · 7 years

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Over the past 20 years, horror fans have seen some exceptionally wonderful horror movies. We're living in a golden era of modern horror where filmmakers don't have to rely on witty supernatural villains spouting terrible one-liners while killing off their victims one by one. Now, both indie and major studios are producing memorable films that mix horror with other genres to create something unique and wonderful, like this year's Get Out, which won big at the box office.

We're taking a look at the past two decades of horror and picking out the best movie, year by year. Some years were better than others, but all of these movies should be on your watch list, especially with Halloween right around the corner.

1997: Event Horizon

1997 was not a great year for horror movies. It was a summer filled with movies like Scream 2, I Know What You Did Last Summer, The Relic, and a slew of other very forgettable films. That year, Event Horizon was released, a sci-fi/horror hybrid about the reappearance of a ship that went into a black hole. The rescue team discovers something horrifying inside. Sure, it's not an amazing movie, but it's fun, and there are plenty of memorable moments, like when one character's eyes get sewn shut.

1998: Ringu

Ringu kicked off what eventually become America's love affair with Asian horror cinema. A reporter and her ex-husband investigate a mysterious tape that reportedly kills you seven days after you watch it. The vast majority of people are much more familiar with the 2002 American remake, which had a much bigger budget, but the original Ringu is a much better horror film with some great scares, even if a couple effects sequences are dated.

1999: The Blair Witch Project

For better or worse, depending on your outlook, The Blair Witch Project started a revolution when it came to "found footage" movies. This was a new genre for horror to jump into and part of the allure was the audience wondering if what they were watching was actually real. The Blair Witch Project follows three film students that head into the Maryland wilderness to shoot a documentary about local myth the Blair Witch. Obviously, things don't go well for them.

Runners-up: The Sixth Sense and Audition

2000: American Psycho

In 2000, the world fell in love with potential sociopath Patrick Bateman, a wealthy white-collar worker during the '80s who fantasizes about murdering everyone around him while discussing Huey Lewis and the News. American Psycho isn't just a horror film; it mixes and bends genres to tell its tale. However, the amount of blood, brutality, and violence in this film makes it feel like a precursor to the modern gore sub-genre that came a few years later. American Psycho isn't just a good horror movie, it's a great movie in general.

Runner-up: Ginger Snaps

2001: The Devil's Backbone

Spanish director Guillermo del Toro is a name you're going to see a few times on this list because he is not only a fantastic director when it comes to horror, but he puts his name behind some incredibly memorable films. In The Devil's Backbone, a young boy, who lost his father in the Spanish Civil War in 1939, is forced to live in an orphanage. He never feels quite comfortable in his new surroundings as there's a groundskeeper who doesn't want him looking in a storage locker, and the building is haunted by ghosts. This is one of del Toro's most underrated films.

Runner-up: Session 9

2002: 28 Days Later

While 1985's campy Return of the Living Dead was the first time a fast zombie appeared on screen, 28 Days Later popularized the idea of fast-moving infected/undead chasing down their prey. The diseased in 28 Days Later are not traditional zombies nor are they the living dead, but Danny Boyle's frantic and intense film was terrifying and helped usher in a resurgence in zombie films and media. In 2003, the comic series The Walking Dead started and in 2004, Zack Snyder's Dawn of the Dead remake came to theaters. Fans of the genre owe a lot to Boyle's film.

Runner-up: The Ring

2003: A Tale of Two Sisters

While South Korea's A Tale of Two Sisters may not be as well-known or regarded for ushering in Asian horror renaissance like Japan's Ringu, it's a great example of Korea's style of horror filmmaking: a genre-mixing, intense process that leaves the viewers on the edge of their seats. A teenage girl returns home from a stint in a mental hospital, and is terrorized by her cruel step-mother and ghosts within the family home. A Tale of Two Sisters balances psychological horror and a mystery exceptionally well and makes that year's biggest American horror film, Freddy vs. Jason, look like child's play.

Runner-up: 2LDK

2004: Shaun of the Dead

In Shaun of the Dead, Shaun decides to try and win back his ex-girlfriend; however, the only problem is that there's a zombie apocalypse happening around them. This movie is one of the best horror/comedies of all time, thanks to the witty writing of Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright, and let's not forget how amazingly this movie is edited as well. While the focus is a bit more on Pegg's character, Shaun, and his best friend Ed, played by Nick Frost, there are a few jump scares and classic "trapped by zombies" moments that make this a legitimately great film.

Runners-up: Dawn of the Dead and Saw

2005: The Descent

If you're claustrophobic, then The Descent is a total nightmare. A group of explorers head out on an adventure to search an uncharted cave system, only to find monsters in the darkness that are hunting them all down, one by one. Aside from the scares coming from the man-eating beasts, what sets The Descent apart from other horror movies that year is the feeling of being trapped, thanks to the way it was filmed, which--believe it or not--was all in a studio outside of London, as filming in an actual cave was deemed too dangerous. The Descent is a must-watch for horror fans, and one of the better movies on this list.

2006: Pan's Labyrinth

Once again, director Guillermo del Toro makes the list. Pan's Labyrinth takes place in Spain in the mid-1940s and follows a young girl obsessed with fairy tales. One day, she finds a faun who tells her she's a princess but must complete three tasks in order to prove she's royalty. Pan's Labyrinth has a narrative setup that could easily be used for a children's film, but del Toro takes it down a dark path, setting it against a war, and creating some haunting creatures, like the one above. It's a movie that appears to be a fantasy, but upon closer inspection, is filled with unimaginable horrors.

Runner-up: The Host

2007: The Orphanage

2007 may have been one the best years for horror. It was a year that produced The Mist, 28 Weeks Later, 30 Days of Night, and 1408 to name a few, but none of those films hold a candle to The Orphanage, which was executive produced by Guillermo del Toro. In the movie, a young woman (Laura) and her husband raise their son in an old house that used to be an orphanage that Laura was raised in. Soon, her son begins talking to invisible friends and quickly disappears, so Laura enlists outside help to figure out what's going on. Obviously, the little boy in the mask is creepy, but this movie shines in its use of location, sound, and overall tone. There's a reason del Toro put his name on this movie: It's haunting.

Runners-up: Paranormal Activity and REC

2008: Let The Right One In

Sweden's romantic horror film is bizarre and haunting, and the American adaptation--Let Me In--just isn't the same. Let The Right One In follows a young bullied boy who is befriended by a strange girl, who turns out to be a vampire, of sorts. It's one of the early adopters of the the new age of horror that puts the focus on a slow-building tension that immerses the audience into the world where the real horror is rooted in realistic fears, even if said fears are coming from something supernatural. It's a film that's best enjoyed on your own, and we won't say much else about the film because there are so many twists and turns to it.

Runner-up: Quarantine

2009: Drag Me To Hell

Sam Raimi--known for the Evil Dead franchise--made a return to horror in 2009 with Drag Me To Hell. A loan officer has to evict an old woman from her home, and after doing so, finds herself cursed and on a mission to save her own soul. This movie is pure Sam Raimi, who has a knack for blurring the lines between comedy and horror at times. Are we supposed to laugh when the main character has blood/bugs/vomit/black tar dumped on her face or are we supposed to be disgusted? Sadly, Raimi doesn't direct as much anymore, but he did produce one of the best horror films in the past decade, Don't Breathe.

Runner-up: Pandorum

2010: I Saw The Devil

2010 was another great year for horror films: Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, Black Swan, Rare Exports, and The Dead were all released. However, South Korea's I Saw The Devil was easily the best horror film of the year. It brilliantly mixes the genre with a Korean favorite: the revenge film, as a serial killer murders a secret agent's fiance, and he takes vengeance into his own hands, even if it means becoming a monster himself. Where this movie truly succeeds is with the character arc of the lead, Kim Soo-hyeon, as he morphs into what he is hunting down, in a sense.

Runners-up: Let Me In and Insidious

2011: You're Next

You're Next was one of two good horror films to come out of 2011, which was a pretty bogus year. Luckily, both of those films are pretty fantastic. You're Next has a new spin on the home-invasion story. A family on an anniversary vacation find themselves being hunted down by masked killers; however, one of the hunted has a secret: they know how to fight back. This genre of horror has been overdone, but the twist gives this story some new life.

Runner-up: Grave Encounters

2012: Cabin in the Woods

Cabin in the Woods is a really weird movie, in all the right ways. It starts as a typical horror film featuring a group of attractive young adults, heading to a remote cabin, where they're hunted down by zombies. However, what sets this movie apart is the turn, which happens during the first act--and we won't spoil it in case you've never seen it. Cabin in the Woods is ingenious and actually pretty funny at times. In addition, it's the only horror movie that will have you rooting for a gross merman to kill someone.

Runners-up: Sinister and VHS

2013: The Conjuring

Ed and Lorraine Warren's alleged supernatural encounters have been made into countless movies, with the most memorable being The Amityville Horror. However, in 2013, The Conjuring came out, which recounts one of the Warren's early investigations of a Rhode Island farmhouse that is under attack by a supernatural force. It is, by far, one of the best horror films of the decade and launched a fantastic franchise as well.

Runners-up: Oculus and VHS 2

2014: The Babadook

Jennifer Kent's 2014 film, The Babadook, follows a widow trying to take care of her problematic child who thinks there is a monster in the house. The mother quickly discovers a creature called the Babadook is terrorizing the family. Much like a few other films on the list, The Babadook slowly builds tension, and while the film has a few jump scares, it doesn't rely on them to horrify the audience.

Runners-up: REC 4 and Housebound

2015: It Follows

It Follows is a great way to promote abstinence. Joking aside, the 2015 film does revolve around a curse that can only be passed on by intercourse, and that curse comes in the form of a slow-moving, supernatural being that kills you if it reaches you. The movie centers around a young woman who becomes cursed after a sexual encounter with a young man who mysteriously disappears. She and a group of friends do what they can to keep her from being reached by the creature. The story is unique and keeps the viewers on the edge of their seats for the entire film. At no point does the tension let up.

Runners-up: They Look Like People and The Visit

2016: The Witch

On this list, 2016 was the best year for horror, as you can see from the long list of runners-up below. The film that beat out everything else that year was the slow-paced movie The Witch. This movie is an extremely slow burn that follows a family in the 1600s who believe their daughter may have been influenced by witches. What makes this such a great film is the attention to detail, from the clothing to the insanely specific dialect. In addition, it has some of the best cinematography in modern horror. It is a beautiful movie with some chilling undertones.

Runners-up: Don't Breathe, Green Room, Hush, The Conjuring 2, Train to Busan, Under The Shadow, The Shallows, and The Wailing

2017: Get Out

2017 may not be over, but as of October, the best horror film of the year is Get Out. The Jordan Peele-directed film follows Chris, a young black man who is on his way to meet his white girlfriend's parents for the first time. He quickly learns that something is off about the family and everyone in the circle of friends. Get Out has such a good story that weaves mystery and thriller genres into it as the movie progresses--along with a little comedy. What makes this such a great film is that while some of the elements in the film are "out of this world," it has its rooting in reality. Not only is it a great horror film, it's one of the best films of the year.

Runners-up: Split and It

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