#woman directed horror

[wormboyfriendcentralstation]

heathcliff: i killed cathy...... im a horrible person in every timeline. my revenge killed her. my remorse literally broke through timelines.

catherine who got back at heathcliff by stealing a house to remodel into the Magic Cocaine Labyrinth after draining the financial assets of england's least tragically ill victorian man, making carmen contact her copyright lawyers by sealing her ambiguously dead body into a glass tank while her brain powers a building, and potentially hiring the Mueseumafia of Modern Art because if she pays them with cash she doesnt have to report her Green-Energy-Human-Tank Powered Hydrogen Bomb Basement Factory's earnings to the IRS or whatever the city uses: 'tis what you get for trying to boyfail without your girlboss, methinks 😇😇😇😇😇

[brw]

brieuc's 1k celebration; url edit for @cosmicrayed

[radishprincesss]

saint maud (2019)

[resizura]

listen i’m not saying that old resident evil was peak female rep and without its faults but its so sad to me seeing how quickly the female characters in the franchise got sidelined or fell to tropes

[bmpmp3]

yumeko..........................................................i gotta catch up on this manga

[marklikely]

ok u know that fake 80s horror movie meme that people did on tiktok well aside from the blatant goncharov plagiarism i feel like the idea isnt inherently bad but trying to convince people the movie is real while giving it an obscure and therefore easily googleable name like zapotha is unwise. like goncharov was always openly fake but the video said they want to convince people zepotha is real. too easy to fact check imo.

[the-acid-pear]

The thing about the painter analog that people don't get and makes them hate it is that at heart this isn't a serious horror story. This is pure gore not only for the sake of gore but for the sake of camp. Once I was talking of to my dad laughing at the guy who had his face sanded off and he was like yeah not new they did that in Jason already 🙄 which was later reinforced by UrbanSpook admitting this is inspired by those old 80s slasher which should tell you everything.

I'm saying this bc i saw a video pairing it with Playground and the incest game and while I don't know the second I watched a video on playground once and the difference is that that book is trying to tell a story and say something on top of the gore but the later makes it hard to care. Which is kind of the issue another "gone too far" piece of media my beloved A Serbian Film runs into where you cannot take yourself too seriously if you also want to show over the top violence or you'll lose the audience.

OF COURSE there are exceptions like Hostel, Saw and 😏 the human centipede ☺️ (cocksucker for that movie and it's more serious points, though it barely counts bc the gore is very tame save for in 2) and I couldn't exactly tell you what's the difference between what makes them work and what doesn't but still.

But I'm getting off topic I'm not here to say which media is good or not I'm here to point out the painter is not a serious story that asks you to care for the characters it's a over the top schlocky gore that asks you to go GROOOOSS or laugh at the over the top brutality it presents. Which is very standard in horror.

[antiquarianandunusual]

I usually don't like to get my hopes up when it comes to theatre productions because SO MANY factors can make or break if a show is even put on, but the department heads are looking at The Rocky Horror Show for next year's musical and after having Eddie as a dream role for literal years and realizing that apparently me and 1975 Meat Loaf are long lost twins, I might die if I don't get the chance to play Eddie. /lh

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

i’ve been mad at harry styles for like 5 years now for the crimes of making shitty music and obviously caring a lot about whether men respect him but ooooh i get so mad when i see [which you will see immediately and constantly if Dumb Celebrity Gossip is one of your internet time wasters as it is mine] people getting on his case for things like never publicly claiming his [now dead to be clear] relationship with olivia wilde, not telling his fans to back off, etc. like wind in my hair i was THERE during the years when louis consistently repeatedly unambiguously attempted to stamp the larry thing down & spoke publicly about how it had been difficult on him on his loved ones and ultimately on his friendship with harry, which not to be parasocial but if i think about that for five seconds i really do get so sad. down the stairs i was there when it did nooooothiiiiing to stem the tide of either consparicizing or harassment. and like, harry was there too and also saw with his own (TEENAGED) eyeballs what the realistic outcome was for someone in his literal identical situation who did attempt to Speak Up, and that outcome was: neutral to negative. it did nothing unless it made things somehow worse. bc ultimately people who are doing shit like harassing a pop star’s girlfriend on twitter are not actually doing it because they are obsessed with that pop star. they are doing it because there is something deeply wrong with them and they are using the negativity-spawned community validation to attempt to fill a set of unmet psychological needs they have not figured out how to fill in healthy ways.

anyway. idk why this gets me so defensive of someone whose solo career, as stated above, i could not possibly have less interest in on its merits. some of it is definitely leftover 1d nostalgia. but i think a lot of it is also just that i think fame is kind of inherently dehumanizing and i think the kind and level of fame harry came into very suddenly AS A TEENAGER is particularly so and like i get that no one wants to cry for the plight of hot millionaires but i do think that ultimately any degree of cultural norms wherein it’s considered like not a big deal if millions of strangers feel weirdly entitled to someone’s personal self because of that someone’s job and/or paycheck is like, bad. and it’s also annoying to me that this goes on in spaces where everyone is totally claiming to have been on the right side of history wrt britney like ok so we understand that sometimes there comes a point where it makes no sense to litigate the actions taken by an individual at the center of a cultural maelstrom bc there was never any perfect method to have shut it down and the issue is that it shouldn’t have happened in the first place and our standard cannot possibly be “this 24 year old must be an infallible human being or else they deserve whatever comes their way because what did they expect.” but only a decade and a half after the fact. got it.

[bagofbonesmp3]

jackie kong on set

[impossible-rat-babies]

listen someone on the bird hellsite mentioned WoL primals once and I haven’t known peace since

[tactfullyinappropriate]

Ohhh boy, I'm gonna get a lot of flak for this one but... masc lesbian =/= butch. You can be the most masculine presenting person the world has ever known and that does not automatically make you butch.

Butch is an identity and you kinda need to fit that identity, not make the identity fit you. E.g. "lesbians" who are attracted to cishet men. Sorry, hun, you're just not a lesbian. Find your own identity that fits. You are allowed to be your own kind of bisexual or pansexual but what you are not, is a lesbian.

Sure, there is a lot of room for being your own person within an identity. I am not the same kind of lesbian as the next dyke. But if I did not fit (or if I no longer fit) the definition of the lesbian identity, I wouldn't call myself one and insist that lesbians expand the definition to include me.

'Butch' as an identity exists within a certain context. It *is not* a synonym to man, and it's also not a synonym to 'a masculine presenting lesbian'. If you don't vibe with the whole 'chivalry' concept and the specific ways in with butch/femme courtship (as an example) happens, maybe consider if this is the right label for you before insisting that we expand or rather completely rewrite the definition to exclude those things from it.

Some of the discourse around 'we should redefine butch!' reminds me of the discourse around redefining manhood. "It's not fair that men are expected to have masculine hobbies," they say. "It's not fair that men cannot wear glitter and makeup and retain their manhood. It's not fair that men are expected to open doors, and carry heavy things, and to-to---" Yes. You are exactly right. But butches are not men.

'Butch' is an opt-in identity, not something that society at large expects and requires from you. In other words: if you think femmes gushing about being courted by their butches in what to you appears to be a 1960s play-pretend of patriarchy, is silly, objectifying or demeaning toward one of the parties... consider that maybe 'butch' is not the identity for you. That maybe you are a masculine person with their own unique take on masculinity.

But insisting that we redefine butch is like me insisting that we redefine 'yoga' because I vibe with the gymnastics but I don't like the spiritual aspect of it. I can just go to Pilates instead. Or do yoga and accept that other people in the practice experience it differently.

What I am endlessly tired of, as a femme, is being lectured on what I *should* and *should not* find attractive. I am not somehow betraying feminism, objectifying people and degrading myself by daydreaming of a butch who opens the car door for me or - the absolute horror - brings me flowers on a date. I recognize that other people have the right to their own attraction and that masculine lesbians deserve the freedom to explore masculinity on their own terms and be treated with dignity and respect regardless of where that exploration takes them and regardless of who does or does not find them attractive.

That being said, the whole narrative of 'if you find chivalry hot, then you are objectifying butches and you are, in fact, an entitled selfish person' is tiresome. Not all femmes are women but in being chastised for our turn-ons and romantic daydreams (unless we're the Cool Girl who doesn't like flowers and rolls her eyes at romance) I see a lot of the admonishment directed toward cis straight women who dare to swoon when they read romance where the male lead is courteous and generous.

Except, again, butch/femme *is not* man/woman. It's a particular subculture within the lesbian identity and no one is pressuring anyone into conforming to it.

[oncomingnight]

Yandere! Horror Film Director x Fem Reader ˖ ࣪⭑

❝Nothing can get a look in on my baby.❞

Javier has always had a lingering interest in the subject of film but especially the progress of their creation. His parents and him would always have movie nights that consisted of stories of romantic comedies and doomed lovers. Though he enjoyed this particular activity he got to partake in with his parents, another movie genre truly caught his eye.

The major role that film played in his childhood assisted him in settling what he was truly meant to do.

Javier is incredibly well known for the anxiety inducing cinematography that's carefully placed into his movies, his character representing color coding, high brow dialogue that leaves audiences conversing in whispers as they leave the theater. But you can never forget the most important component of a film made by one of the most influential directors. The nightmare producing death scenes and how his characters with motives to kill always have chilling patterns in which they choose their victims, pushing viewers to deadbolt their doors and windows at night.

Though, no one could be stupid enough to believe he just pulls inspiration for those characters out of nowhere, right?

When Javier first saw you, he knew he needed you to be beside him forever, eternity. He disregarded everything and everyone that he saw as below you, to him, his attention was meant to be directed onto you and nothing else. He's the farthest thing from being shy and that is incredibly relevant when it comes to the way he shows his love to you.

He is an incredibly confident man and it's not a surprise to anyone considering the way he presents himself and the extremely public career path he chose. When he entered a room, his cologne spreading the smell of dark leather and amber, everyone stood up, smiling, to shake his hand. He was wanted by everybody he crossed paths with, men and woman, his past lovers having to live with a permanent hole in their soul due to his absence in their life.

But, who could blame them? Javier was a magnetic force of a man that could pull that ache for his touch out of anyone, it was almost dreadful.

Though, he was also unapologetic. He never regretted leaving any of them as he was now tethered to you, his other half that he'd been searching for, oh, so long.

When you're with him, you never have to worry about anything else that is happening in your life. He makes you feel as though you're the only two people on earth and you were placed here to simply love each other.

As he's able to, you better expect him to use his money to benefit you in every way he can. Javier takes any opportunity he can to take you on a trip to a completely different country, spoon feeding you Mediterranean cuisine, taking you to several seaside boutiques, driving through cobblestone alleyways, purchasing antique trinkets for you to place in your shared room.

Javier also enjoys assisting you in getting ready for a day/night out, he deems this time you spend together as precious and calming. He'll clasp a gold necklace with a delicate charm around your neck, carefully buttoning your dress as he brushes his fingers against your silky skin, softly wetting & brushing your hair, applying skin creams onto your skin with his own fingers, sometimes even drawing the shape of a heart onto your cheek with the product.

He has a knack for drawing you in live time and at times referencing a candid photo he took of you, which he cherishes deeply. The sketch is filled with swirls of meshed colors, your hair being drawn with patterns of slightly different shades. When he finally finishes his drawing, he'll purchase a frame for it and place it in a special area of your shared home.

On a much more serious yet realistic note:

If you were to ever catch Javier in the middle of getting rid of someone that has caused you stress or any sort of problem, he'd immediately resort to comforting and reassuring you.

He knows you'd never leave him but he just couldn't imagine how scared his precious baby was after witnessing such an incident.

"Lo sé, mami, sé que tienes miedo. Lo siento, cariño, no necesitabas a ver eso. Pero dime, ya sabes que nunca te haría daño, ¿verdad?"

[its-rach-writes]

No Goodbyes - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When you manage to escape from an unsub, the BAU come to visit you in hospital. Set in season three.

Warnings: mentions of abduction, fluff, little bit of angst, swearing, Spencer being adorable.

A/N: Damn, do I love writing for Spencer Reid! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! Also I forgot to mention that requests are open! I love you all xxx

The darkness crowded around you as the ropes dug into your wrists, you were too weak to try and escape, you were too wounded to survive out in the wild anyway. You weren’t sure how long you had been here for but you were going to die here. The realisation that you were going to die made you gather your last remaining strength, you had a family who loved you, you were going to see them again.

The ropes were easier to escape from than you realised, maybe you had frayed them in the earlier days of your abduction when you were fighting tooth and nail to escape. You felt around in the dark for the door and you gave it a tentative pull when you found it. Whoever had abducted you had left it unlocked, they must have been confident you wouldn’t escape from the ropes.

As soon as you were outside in the fresh air, you ran like the wind. It was pitch black outside but you ran the opposite direction of where you had been kept. It sounded like you were getting close to a road but you couldn’t think too much more on it as your legs gave out and darkness overtook you once more.

You winced as you sat up in the hospital bed, turning your attention away from the TV and looked into the hallway. New people had arrived and they were talking to the cops, you knew what they were talking about, but you wouldn’t budge. A pretty blonde woman caught your eye and she gave you a sweet smile. Your lips twitched but made no further movement as you turned back to the TV.

“Hi,” you heard a soft voice and you turned back to the doorway to see a tall lanky man standing in the doorway, “I’m Spencer,” you knew he was with the cops but his voice was soft and his lips were curved into a kind smile. He didn’t cringe and look away from you when he saw the bloodied bandages.

“Y/N,” you winced and tried to reach your glass of water on the side.

“Let me,” he sat in the chair at your side and lifted the glass.

Your cheeks flushed as you sipped the water from the straw, “thanks, I’m not an invalid, just want you to know that,” you laughed.

He smiled, “oh, I know. I in fact, think you’re really brave.”

You scoffed, “I know what you’re doing by the way. You want me to tell you about my abduction.”

Spencer shook his head, “I’m not going to force you into something you don’t want to do, Y/N. But, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen a friendly face.”

You sighed and glanced over to the doorway where the cops were listening. Spencer abruptly stood from his seat and closed the door in their faces, which made you laugh.

“They think I’m a stone cold bitch,” the handsome man tilted his head and looked at you questioningly, “women are getting killed and I can’t even talk about what happened.”

“It’s understandable.”

You nodded at him gratefully, unsure how such a sweet man became involved with law enforcement. The silence was interrupted by the loud rumbling of your stomach. You flushed as Spencer burst into laughter.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.

You groaned, “so hungry but this hospital food is shit,” you laughed.

“Do you fancy a burger?” when you nodded he went to speak to the blonde woman who had smiled at you before.

Spencer looked at you with horror as you deconstructed the burger so you could take the pickles off. You glanced up at him when you felt him looking, you smirked as you licked the ketchup from your fingers.

“What?”

“Pickles are the best part and you’re just throwing them away like they’re nothing!” he gasped.

You laughed, “do you want my pickles?”

“Yes,” he replied within a split second and you passed the slimy veggie over to him, wincing when he crunched it between his teeth.

“Ew.”

There came a knock on the door as Spencer laughed, it was the blonde woman, she smiled at you before glancing over at Spencer, “Spence, we’ve got a lead on the case.”

You’d forgotten, you’d forgotten what he did for a job, only just remembering that he was trying to gather intel.

“I um think I’m gonna stay, actually,” he said which surprised you and he glanced over at you, “that okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded.

“Okay,” the woman said, “call us if you need to,” and then she was gone.

“Your team will be one person down.”

Spencer shrugged, “they’ll be fine.”

The only thing that you and Spencer did for the next couple of hours was watch rubbish on TV, every time there was news coverage on the case, Spencer turned it over to another channel. You fiddled with the sheets of the hospital bed as you glanced over at Spencer’s profile.

“I’ve remembered something.”

Spencer glanced over at you, biting his lip, “Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you interrupted him with a sigh, “I don’t know how much help it’s gonna be but I remember the smell of strawberries but only after it rained. And there was this other smell, kind of like vanilla but like flowers at the same time.”

Spencer smiled at you, “this helps,” he quickly called his partner, instructing them to look for farms were strawberries and honeysuckle grew. You didn’t understand most of his words, he said things like ‘unsub’ and ‘comfort zone.”

The hospital kept you in for ‘observation’ which you bought at first but then you overheard the cops talking about your escape. You heard them saying if the abductor had got wind of where you were it was likely he would come and finish you off. Everything made you jumpy after that. Spencer came to see you when he could, bringing takeout and you slowly opened up to him about what happened to you.

It had been about a week when you saw the news broadcast, the man who had abducted you had been caught. He looked so ordinary that it scared you. When the door to your room opened, you glanced over with a smile that dropped a second later.

“I’m Derek, Spencer’s friend,” the stranger told you, showing you his badge and he glanced at the TV, “came here to tell you we caught him but I can see you already know,” he chuckled then sighed at the expression on your face, “he wanted to be here to say goodbye but he had to make sure the man who hurt you was away. For good. For you.”

There was a pain in your chest and you wanted to cry and scream at yourself for being so stupid, “so, I guess you guys are leaving?”

“We are.”

You sighed, scrawling something on a piece of paper and handed it to Derek, “will you give this to Spencer?”

He smiled, he had kind eyes, “you got it.”

You thanked him as he left but you were left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Spencer hadn’t come to say goodbye.

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅰ ▬ ⁽ 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓌𝑜𝓁𝒻 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements explicit content, teratophilia, monster/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, very obvious size difference, dacryphilia, ( slight?? ) somnophilia, cunnilingus, knotting. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you're invited to the bar by your bestfriend, barb. things go awry. ꒰m!werewolf ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝒜s you drift in and out of a light slumber, the sudden sound of your phone jolts you awake. The room is enveloped in darkness, and a chill lingers in the air, reminding you that you forgot to close the window. You shift in bed, directing your gaze towards the nightstand, and reach out to grab your phone, squinting against its blinding brightness. Running a hand through your tousled hair, you sit up and flick on the nearby lamp, illuminating the room.

As you settle in, your eyes slowly adapt to the light, allowing you to observe your surroundings. Glancing at your phone once more, you notice the time - it's already 9:27 PM. Your friend tried calling you five times, with the first call going unanswered for ten minutes.

As you slide out of bed, you stretch your arms and legs, grimacing at the sounds of your joints cracking. You brush your hands through your hair and make your way to the bathroom, turning on the light, and leaning against the sink, letting out a sigh at the sight of the bags under your eyes. Your lithe fingers gently pull at the skin under your eyes, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Sighing, your arms drop to your side before lifting them to twist the faucet handle.

You bend down and form a makeshift bowl with your hands, sleepily awaiting the rush of water. The liquid cascades into your palms, filling them with a refreshing embrace. With a swift motion, you splash the cold water onto your face, instantly jolting your senses awake.

Huffing out a sigh, you shut off the tap, taking a brief pause to relish in the quietness of your home, before reaching for a soft hand towel to gently pat your face dry. Tossing the damp towel into the laundry basket, you pivot on your heels and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and shutting the door behind you.

Glancing around the room, you notice the scattered clothing on the floor and your disorganized dresser, and as much as you wanted to clean it, you simply lacked the motivation. Your gaze swiftly shifts away from the mess and you clear your throat.

"Hey, Alexa, Call Barb back."

As her robotic voice obediently chimes, you collapse onto your messy bed, emitting a groan in response to the piercing sound resonating in your ears. A brief moment of silence passes before you're taken aback, startled by Barb's exuberant cheer.

" Thank god! I thought you were dead! What are you doing right now?" The ambiance of music and conversation engulfs her, prompting yet another sigh from you- the nth one since you've woken up. You're now well aware of the reason for her call, but you're not in the mood to socialize or have a drink.

After all, this was your only free weekend for the next month or so; and besides, you had already planned a date with a tub of ice cream and a marathon of horror movies.

"I just woke up from a nap, where are you? It's loud."

The woman softly utters a flustered 'stop', likely to a guy she's flirting with. Barb clears her throat to hide a giggle. "I'm at a bar with Crystal and Kevin. Please come down!" The idea of socializing at that moment sent shivers down your spine. No matter how much you adored Barb, her offer didn't tempt you in the slightest.

Actually, the idea of socializing at that moment sent mind-numbing shivers down your spine, and just as you were about to decline, her following words elicit a gentle chuckle from you.

"And! Before you say no, I promise I won't ask you to come to any events for the next three months." The anxiety in her voice is palpable, and it begins to chip away at your resolve, her small whine finally breaks you and with a sigh, you find yourself smiling at her proposal. "Fine, send me the address and I'll be there as soon as I can. "

The place is bustling with noise and the unmistakable smell of sweat as you navigate your way to the bar. From the entrance, you catch sight of Barb's eye-catching cotton candy pink hair. She's engaged in light-hearted banter with a burly man, and although you hesitate to interrupt, you do so anyway.

Wrapping your arms around her waist, you bask in the comforting aroma that surrounds her. Barb was an absolute doll, and the instant connection you both had when introduced by a mutual friend three years ago is still strong. Barb was practically the sole reason you weren't a recluse.

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she affectionately placed her hand on your cheek. "That you babe?" She turns around as she hears your approving hum, and her gaze falls upon your attire. It wasn't flashy, considering this is just a bar. Your legs are clad in mom jeans, complemented by a band tee and a pair of chunky combat boots. In contrast to Barb's tight red dress, you may seem a bit underdressed, but your intention wasn't to find a hookup tonight; you're here to catch up with Barb.

She pressed her lips together, but eventually gave in and rolled her eyes before pulling you into a warm hug, without getting up from her seat.

" Henry, this is my best friend. " she beamed at you and playfully raised her eyebrows. "Bestie, this is Henry."

You cast your eyes towards him, uninterested."Hey, how are you?"

Without waiting for his response, you plant a kiss on Barb's forehead and gesture towards the other end of the bar. "I'll grab a drink and then search for Kevin and Crystal."

Barb's lips formed a pout as she nodded, her expression turning stern. "Don't leave without telling me okay?" You acknowledged her request with a nod, waving her off and making your way to the stool at the end of the counter, collapsing onto the chair, and releasing a weary sigh.

The bartender looked at you expectantly, prompting you to bite the inside of your cheek before simply requesting water - you had no intention of drinking tonight. Your eyes flit over the bar, taking small sips from your water bottle, looking for any eye candy. Eventually, your gaze landed on a man wearing a red, dirtied beanie, his eyes lowered. He's big and burly, with dark hair covering his forearms and a thick beard.

Your heart stutters in your chest, prompting you to clench your thighs together. His sun-kissed complexion exuded an irresistible aura of feral masculine energy, that made your nipples perk up and harden. You discreetly averted your eyes, taking a gulp of water to quell the sudden and embarrassing rush of desire.

Stealing another glance, your heart skips a beat when his hazel eyes meet yours. Flustered, you quickly look away, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks. You had just got caught ogling a sexy hunky man, and you'd probably been drooling too.

You set your water bottle on the counter and pat your cheeks with your cold hands. Gradually mustering the courage, you decide to approach the man- the intimidating but hot man who sat in a booth alone. As you prepare to stand up, you are startled to find him just a few steps away from you, gaze searing and unwavering.

Towering at 6'4, he appeared even more imposing in person, his muscles clearly defined beneath his jacket. Despite your jitters, you offer a smile and a nod in his direction. His eyes briefly leave yours, locking with the bartender's. A surge of desire courses through you, his voice is deep and velvet-smooth, and it has your stomach in knots.

"Another bourbon."

His eyes fixated on you, captivating your very being and luring you into a trance. A timid squeak escaped your lips as you retreated into your shell - he exuded an aura of sheer intimidation. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth accompanied a subtle nod, but little else. You couldn't help but feel foolish for even attempting to engage with him because even though he didn't wear an expensive suit or look well off, he was way out of your league. At least, that's how it felt.

As he grabs the glass of bourbon, he disappears into the shadows of his lonely little booth. You feel the urge to approach him but two things hold you back– one- you don't know what you would say and two– you really have to pee.

Downing the last drops of water, you bring the bottle with you to throw in the garbage can. Suddenly, you come to a halt, noticing the lengthy line forming at the restroom — that was like a thirty-minute wait, you couldn't possibly hold your pee for that long.

The longer you pondered your next move, the more your bladder seemed to betray you. Your only choice was to venture outside and take care of business in the back. You clenched your jaw, cursed under your breath, and hurried to the back door. As you made your way, you locked eyes with Barb at the bar and gestured towards your urgent need. She responded with a nod and a thumbs-up before returning to her conversation. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out into the cool night air, feeling its gentle touch on your skin.

The town may have been small, but it possessed an allure that captivated its inhabitants. It wasn't the kind of place where everyone knew each other, yet it still retained an intimate charm. Nestled at the edge of town, this bar stood amidst the endless forest that enveloped the surroundings. It was easy to get lost in there.

Into the heart of the forest, you went, careful to avoid prying eyes as you attended to your needs, wary of the consequences if caught by the property owner or law enforcement. As you made your way through the trees, the dim glow of the bar faded and you continued to walk until you had to squint to see the bar lights.

The sound of your belt coming undone echoed through the stillness of the area and you feel your skin crawl with anxiousness. You can hear the steady stream of your pee hitting the leafy-covered ground and you cringe at the loudness of the sound. After you make sure you're at least a bit dry down there, you stand and pull your pants up. As you adjust yourself, a rustle in front of you makes your heart race.

Your hands freeze at your belt buckle, a deep, low, guttural growl meets your ears and suddenly you can see golden irises looking towards you. It's a wolf. Fear grips you as you step back, trembling with terror. As your eyebrows knit together, your gaze intensifies upon the creature before you. There is no denying its identity as a wolf, yet its sheer size is awe-inspiring, towering over you. Its maw is much too big, its teeth much too large and its physique exudes strength.

What the hell were you looking at?

It takes a step forward, snarling at you. Your body quivers with nervous energy, unable to find calm, unable to focus. Without hesitation, you pivot on your foot and sprint away, your eyes scanning the surroundings with newfound intensity - every obstacle, every tree, every shadow. Uncertain if the predator is gaining on you, uncertain if more have joined in on the chase - you refuse to look back. The snarls and the sound of rapid footsteps fade momentarily. Breathing becomes difficult, and your face is flushed and covered in sweat.

Seeking refuge behind a tree, you struggle to regain composure, your heart racing wildly, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Crack

Sprinting away, driven by an insatiable desire for safety, you disregard the possibility that it might not be the wolf. You suddenly experience an excruciating pain that travels up your ankle, causing an ear-piercing shriek to erupt from your throat and obscure your vision with tears.

Your skull collides with the rugged terrain, engulfing your vision in darkness for a fleeting moment. As your mind gradually regains clarity, you steal a glance at your ankle, recoiling at the sight of the weathered bear trap sinking its fangs into your flesh. Thankfully, the wound appears shallow, and you offer a silent gratitude to God.

Crunch

You lack the strength to budge, even though it's not causing any real harm; the agony is unbearable. The wolf draws nearer, yet its snarls transform into a plaintive whine. Your eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to open, as your body becomes paralyzed by the sensation of its scorching breath against your face.

It continues its advance, until it reaches your leg, eliciting a whimper from you as its jaws envelop it. Although no additional pain ensues, the sound of fabric rending fills your ears. With trepidation, you finally summon the courage to open your eyes, only to find half of your pant leg ripped away.

Crack, Crack

Bones are breaking, you can hear every crack and also see them breaking under the wolf's fur. As the wolf's fur ripples, you witness the gruesome spectacle of bones splintering beneath its skin. A sickening sensation rises in your throat, causing you to retch violently onto the verdant grass below. The cracking stops but you make no move to look again.

The searing agony dissipates, replaced by the faint rustling of metal being pried apart and discarded with a metallic clink. A rough, yet tender and moist touch glides over your wound, gradually erasing the numbness that enveloped you. The scorching pain that once tormented you is now but a distant memory.

Facing the creature, you realize it has grown even larger, standing at an impressive 9 feet tall. Its massive frame is covered in thick, dark fur, making it almost impossible to discern its true shape. The only colors visible are the glowing gold of its eyes and the pink knot nestled against your thigh. You swallow heavily and avert your eyes quickly, eyes flitting to the wolf's face.

Your heart races as you feel its large hand holding your leg, the gentle touch of its claws sending shivers down your spine. The sensation of its tongue brushing against your skin sends waves of pleasure through your body, despite the fear that grips you. His nose twitches, his eyes flicking towards you, the tension in his muscles palpable.

Your body quivers like a leaf, appearing fragile and small beneath the werewolf, so easily breakable. You can feel his cock stiffening even more, almost impossibly so. Reluctantly, you retract your leg from his grasp, edging back slowly. He watches you with intelligent eyes, tracking your every motion. Struggling to rise, you opt to flip onto your hands and knees, clutching a nearby tree for support— still uncertain of your 'healed' ankle.

There's a pressure on your waist, claws teasing your delicate hips, barely breaking the skin, and you cry out as your pants are torn from your legs, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He pauses for a moment, snout coming close to your sex before sniffing deeply. As tears cascade down your cheeks, you instinctively lash out, kicking your leg in a desperate attempt to distance yourself.

Your combat boot forcefully collides with its face, a feeble protest that is met with a mocking snort. With a single swipe of its claw, your delicate undergarments are effortlessly torn apart, leaving your hole quivering, and juices leaking without permission. Drawing nearer, its snout radiates warmth, causing you to recoil, your eyes squeezed shut. Yet, they swiftly snap open as its wide, elongated, and moist tongue begins to sensually lap at you, the roughness of its muscular appendage gently grazing your entrance and occasionally slipping inside.

Against your will, you're moaning loudly. Your eyes roll back and your lower lip is trapped between your teeth. The hand that was holding onto the tree is now on its snout, attempting to push it away. Your face is pressed into the ground, your back arched in a deliciously painful curve, and your ass is raised high in the air.

It laps at you eagerly like a thirsty dog, and you're lost in a sea of pleasure, moaning and pleading for more, despite yourself. You love every second of this, and it makes you feel disgusted with how enamored you are at what this monster's tongue is doing to you.

You're enveloped in a sea of pure white, as its tongue explores the depths of your being, gently caressing your sensitive spots and teasing your g-spot. It's tongue fucking you so well, like it possesses an intimate map of your body. Its tail sways rhythmically as your trembling thighs embrace its snout, cum dripping onto its eager tongue. Your body spasms with pleasure, and it revels in its satisfaction.

Your pussy tightens slightly, releasing your desire onto your inner thighs, playfully winking at the creature, enticing it to take you. Its hands encircle your waist, contrasting your size against it. The tip of its red cock is lined with your entrance and it finds it a bit difficult to slip the head in at first, you're a tight squeeze.

" No. No, it won't fit!" It's thick and long, and so much bigger than a normal cock, and that thought terrifies you. You shriek as it inches into you slowly, pussy stretching to attempt to accommodate its thickness. You shake your head, crawling forward and attempting to escape the overwhelming intrusion. However, its deep snarl makes you whimper and freeze.

You weakly resist one last time, wriggling your hips to stop it from completely ruining you for any other man, but as it sinks into your quivering, messy cunt, you stop struggling.

Despite the tension in its muscles, it takes its time. The beast is exceptionally thick, so its cock is heavy inside you. The drag of its bulbous tip on your g-spot has you whimpering and drooling over yourself. Abruptly its massive frame envelops you, hands firmly gripping your hips.

How ironic, a canine-like creature ravishing you in the primal position of doggy style.

With a powerful thrust, it plunges its rigid cock deep inside you, its pelvis pressing against your ass. The weighty orbs of its balls collide against your clit, brimming with cum, and despite knowing you shouldn't, you crave every drop of its hot seed.

Your sight becomes hazy, and the world around you blurs as pleasure consumes you. It's an overwhelming sensation that brings tears to your eyes. Each touch from it sends electric shocks through your body, it's touching every nerve inside of you effortlessly. Despite feeling completely satisfied, a deep craving for more remains. The desire to feel it cum inside of you.

With each thrust, a creamy white residue encircles its cock and you're not sure how you've cum so many times in such a short period, but your eager, filthy little hole is starting to feel tender and sensitive. You're whining and whimpering, a blubbering mess below it. You need more.

It starts to speed up, hips stuttering, and a whine building in its throat. With one final forceful thrust, it buries itself deep inside you. Its primal roar echoes in your ears, yet you lack the strength to shield them.

The wet, erotic sound as it pumps you full of cum makes you orgasm once more. Your poor slutty hole clenching around it. You've lost track of time since you left the bar, and you don't know how long the two of been fucking. Exhaustion washes over you, and all you desire is to return home.

However, it appears that th beast has different intentions. Suddenly, it lifts you up, positioning itself on its hindlegs, and you find yourself sitting upright on its throbbing cock. One of its hands ventures beneath your band tee, discovering your erect nipples, while the other firmly grips your hip, effortlessly thrusting you onto its shaft as if you were its own personal fleshlight. Its muzzle nuzzles against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, even though exhaustion consumes you.

–

When you came to, you were relieved to find yourself at your house, believing that maybe you had dreamt it, it couldn't have been real. But the evidence of your wild night with that beast is undeniable - the sticky puddle of cum on your sheets and the missed calls and texts from Barb serve as a tantalizing reminder. You can't remember how long he used your body for his pleasure but you do remember leaving a pool of cum where the two stayed that night. Though, one text stands out to you.

"Babe, a man came up to me earlier and said that he enjoyed you last night. WTF?! Bitch, spill."

[marklikely]

you guys know that phenomenon where dudes will be like "women aren't funny" but its just bc when a woman makes a joke they don't get it and take her seriously and just think she's like an idiot? like a woman will say smth silly as a joke and they'll just be like "smh you can't be serious you're so stupid" bc theyd rather think a woman is stupid than think that she's just saying it to be funny.

i feel like thats what happens in the reviews every time a woman tries to direct a campy b movie right now.