#hence her only stabbing him once in the finished film

[nitrateglow]

By Florabel Muir (Chicago Tribune-NY News Synd.), April 14, 1967

(Love how casual Muir is with the spoilers.)

[princessofprocrastination]

Not The Same (GeorgeNotFound)

summary : you put out a song, but it attracted the wrong type of crowd and caused too many misunderstandings.

trigger warnings : threats (including death and doxing), panic attacks, taking of meds. 

"you're THOSE type of fans, huh?" you read the comments on your newest song release.

and that was the start of your downfall.

-

you and your dad really enjoyed singing. at any opportunity you two got, you would be doing a duet.

whether that would be at at a close relative's wedding or your at home karaoke set up, you two knew how to entertain people.

though singing was your passion, you ended up being too busy with school and trying to graduate with a diploma to even think about singing again.

but you swore to make a career of your singing after high school. you just loved it too much.

but then, you didn't go to college for music, which pretty much shocked your parents and your friends since they knew your only passion in life was singing.

but you took a different direction. you still wanted to sing and you were trying your hardest to find a way to make that your career.

someday, anyway. but you needed to have a plan to fall back into in case anything goes wrong.

you were a realist, after all.

so off to college you went.

you spent long hours studying for tests after tests, sat through hours of lectures, did endless amounts of projects.

in the end, it was all worth the wait and fatigue. you graduated top of your class.

you went off to be an intern, clocked in more hours before you could fully go into the next phase of your life.

and after those long hours, you finally made the decision (with the support of your parents) to take a gap year.

but before anyone panics. your gap year was not all fun in games where you took to rest and lay in bed all day.

you took the gap year to see if the music industry fits you. to see if you even had the chance to succeed.

and if it did, you could finally have your dream job. but even if it didn't you were not going to be upset if you needed to fall back onto your backup plan.

in the duration of the gap year, you took voice lessons, and poetry classes for song writing.

and with whatever you have learnt, you took that into writing songs that you felt really relate to your life experiences.

so you spend at least a couple months writing multiple songs.

after almost 2 years, you finally came out with your first song. and it definitely got recognition. more than you thought you'd get, if you were being completely honest.

and that was what pushed you to sit your ass back on your desk to write more, and go into your makeshift studio and make the words into songs.

your parents were ecstatic to hear that you were finally doing the things you loved. and you knew you'd never get this far if it weren't for your family's support.

and so your music journey began.

it was going well for years. you were finally happy doing the one thing you enjoyed doing.

and you definitely think you were good at it. seeing and hearing the positive feedbacks from your family, friends and listeners. 

you felt good. 

but you lost that feeling when you came out with a new single, called ‘fan of you’. 

you spent a while working hard on that song and you felt relieved when it was finally released. it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

and you weren’t sure how one thing led to another, if you were being honest. at first, you received good feedback for your new songs. you even gained new listeners and your spotify rank rised. 

but then it didn’t anymore. 

your twitter flooded with mentions and your instagram full of tagged pictures and dms by accounts you’ve never heard of. 

but you noticed a similarity with all of the spam. a guy name george. georgenotfound for short.

you being you, you looked into it. and that was when all of the information hit you. and all you had to look up was your name on twitter, and there it was, the longest thread of tweets you have ever seen in your life. 

you took time to read it all, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. 

there must be an understanding. you didn’t know this guy name george. you’ve seen his face on pinterest once a while when you scrolled, yes. but you never looked into him. 

this amazing person took their time to gather every bit of information there was about the scandal, which you were grateful for, or else you’d be scouring the internet for hours. 

to summarise what you read, there was this artist by the name of tia jade who came out with a song a few months prior to yours called ‘just a fan.’ 

it was a good song, some say, and you could agree. it was professionally written and produced. but many fans of george found out that the song was about him. 

not just about him, but about her falling in love with him, when she has never met him. and when his fans started to really listen and analyse the song, it got creepier. 

basically, the song was about a fan falling in love with a celebrity/content creator and that they want to know them beyond their persona online. 

but tia had apologised a little after the song came out, saying that she made that song based on a fan liking a content creator, and not about her falling for george. 

but when you read enough of the issue, it definitely did seem like she was making that song to tell her story about falling for george. but she obviously needed an excuse to cover it up. 

hence the apology. 

and then you read about how they analysed your song, too.

they compared your song to tia’s and found it to have similar stories. stories about how a normal girl is falling in love with the man by the name of george, who had millions of followers on all social medias. 

and if you admitted it to yourself, your song did seem to come out that way. especially if your mentality had been there. clearly your song could have been interpreted in many different ways. 

you scrolled to the very bottom of the thread where there was a video of the man himself, george. he was addressing the issue. 

“i don’t know how this happened twice. i thought once was weird enough, but.” he paused, focusing on building something on his screen. 

“having heard of a song being about me again now makes my skin crawl.” he finished. it was short but enough to make his fans understand where he was coming from. 

you scrolled further to see the replies of the thread. you wanted to know what were people saying about it. 

and you definitely regretted your decision to do that. 

threats everywhere. death threats, threats of beating you up, threats of doxing you. god the negative comments were drowned by the one’s that genuinely thought nothing wrong of your song. 

you called you mom. this was the time you needed her advice. you needed to be told what to do. you didn’t want to accidentally trigger people. 

you and her were on the phone for hours. she listened to you cried to her. she heard the painful sobs that came out of your mouth whenever you reminded yourself of what people were calling you on the internet. 

she heard you cry silently on call when you saw your address and phone number being leaked on twitter. 

but even through all of that, you joked around with your mom. “well, this was a hell of a way to be trending.” 

you did what she told you to do. get a new phone number, stay in a hotel for a couple days while you try to settle the raging crowd of georgenotfound fans down. 

in the span of a couple weeks, you got yourself a new number, a new house and a new car. you weren’t taking any chances. 

you told no one besides your mom of the new changes, just to be safe. 

and no, the threats did not cease. at all. these people did not have a life, constantly up in your dms, telling you to jump off a cliff or them hoping that a robber stabs you and leaves you dying. 

you took your time trying to figure out a way to talk to george. or a way to speak out about this. 

you didn’t want to write a half-assed notes app paragraph apologising when- first of all, you had nothing to apologise for and second, you had too much to say to fit it all in a notes app. 

lucky for you, you didn’t need to start your own channel or make a sit down video on your own. 

your recording label had brought up the idea of a documented series about you and how you became a singer about a year ago, and only started filming and posting the episodes a couple months prior on youtube. 

so you took the series to your advantage. you pitched in the idea to your manager, to which she agreed to immediately, knowing that it was best you talked about it now. 

this was how it played out on the perspective of viewers who watched that episode. 

“bless you.” your producer says after you paused your singing in the mic as you stopped to sneeze. 

you gave him a smile and a thumbs up from inside the booth. 

the camera cuts to another clip. 

the cameraman pans as they captured movers coming in and out of your old house, picking up your heavy furniture and boxes into large trucks to move into the new place.

 it cuts again. this time it shows you scrolling on your phone with a focused face while your manager types something vigorously on her computer. 

the camera tries to focus on your phone, and sees that you were on twitter, reading a lot of tweets under your name. 

you exited the app and slide it away, going into youtube next, reading the comments on your song ‘fan of you’. 

you scrolled far, clicking on some of the comments, trying to read the replies to certain comments you saw. 

the camera cuts into a black screen. which then cuts again into a new scene, where you sat on your new kitchen counter talking to your mother, who sat on the chair in front of you. 

your hair was up in a ponytail. a messy one. you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that seemed far too big on you, and your feet covered with fluffy socks.

you were nodding to whatever she was saying to you. it was clear your mind was elsewhere as your eyes were unfocused. 

the scene cuts again. 

you were seen on the couch, your legs were tucked into your arms and your head down, body shaking. it was obvious you were crying. 

you were alone, your mother no where to be seen. 

that was the first time the camera caught you crying. 

the scene cuts as you were going to get up from the couch. 

now, you were in the kitchen again, opening the refrigerator to take a water bottle, then walking to your room upstairs. 

the camera follows behind you slowly into your room. 

it hadn’t been the cleanest. there were a couple shirts on the floor, your bed undone, cups on your side table, your laptop open on your desk. 

you were seen opening a drawer, taking out a small white bottle. you unscrewed the bottle and took out 2 pills, popping them in your mouth, drinking water straight away after that to swallow. 

the scene cuts again. 

this time, you were seated on the couch in the studio, the atmosphere dark and quiet. 

your hair was more kept this time, being help up in a clip. 

you were wearing straight jeans and a slightly oversized sweatshirt. you looked more refreshed this time. but it was obvious you hadn’t slept in a while because of your eyes.

your eyes that usually held a lot of happiness and joy turned dull. 

“it’s been a while since i’ve spoken to a camera.” you offered a small smile. your song ‘just a fan’ was playing in the background of the clip. 

the scene cuts again. 

“when i released that song, i was genuinely proud of the work i had done.” you paused for a while. besides the song playing in the background, it was silent. 

“but i guess the joy didn’t last very long.” the scene cuts there. 

it transitioned to a collage of what people were saying about you. it showed clips of people talking about it on youtube. they even showed george talking about it. 

and it cuts again. 

it showed a different clip this time. a clip of your ex boyfriend and you at the beach on a picnic, that was taken by a close friend of yours. 

this was when you were still in college. 

it showed all the fun memories you two made while you were still together. 

it showed a video of him studying in the library, flipping through his papers and scrolling through his laptop. it was clear he was hard at work, not noticing you filming him. 

but then the scene cuts again. and the music turned somber. 

your ex boyfriend’s grave. 

it was the day you were visiting him. you sat down next to his stone, a blanket under you. 

you were just staring at his stone, not moving. 

and it cuts again. 

“he was one of the most driven person i have ever met.” you told the camera. 

“he knew when to be serious and when to have fun.” you looked down in your hands and played with your rings. 

“all he ever talked about was becoming a surgeon. he worked hard in his intern years and continued being passionate through his residency.” you spoke up. 

“people had only nice things to say about him. the only bad thing they would say about him is that he can be pretty uptight sometimes, especially when he was stressed about something.” you laughed a little. 

“i was a huge fan of him, even when we just saw each other in the hallways. he’s just amazing. i’ve always wanted to be just like him.”

“i wanted to write a song about him but i didn’t the song to be sad.” you said. 

“and that was when the song ‘fan of you’ was created. 

the scene cuts there and goes into another. 

you were in the recording booth again, this time, you were singing into the mic. 

the camera pans to your producer and manager dancing and bobbing their heads to the beat. 

the scene cuts, officially ending it with a black screen with ‘the end’ in a fancy white font. 

you busied yourself with writing new songs as your name got trended again on twitter. 

and george has never felt worse about himself ever in his entire life. 

-

he watched the episode as soon as dream sent it to him. 

“you’re an asshole, george.” dream sends to him, along with the link of the video on youtube. 

as the video ends, he decides to read the comments, wondering what it was like down there. 

it was the worse mistake he had ever made in a while. 

but he knew he deserved it. he did assumed it was about him, just like the last song made with a drawing of his glasses as their cover photo on spotify. 

this time, there was genuinely no reason to think that this song was about him, or anyone with a following whatsoever. he just believed what his chat told him. 

sure, there were some familiarity of the character in your song and him, but the world did have 7.6 billion people living on it. 

“so, here i am apologising.” george says to his camera, live. his tone was very sincere and apologetic. 

“this shouldn’t have gotten this far. they shouldn’t have gotten threats at all, let alone death threats. they shouldn’t have woken up to the world knowing where they live and what their phone number is.” 

“and if you’re watching. i sincerely apologise. i clearly was full of myself.” george finishes. ending the live with a small wave. 

and were you watching? hell yes. 

and that was the day the two of you followed each other on instagram. 

he used your songs as his intros of his live, (with your permission, of course.) you showed in your documentary that you were watching whenever he was live or watching his youtube videos. 

and that was the start to a beautiful relationship. 

you sat on the chair, going live. you waved as people started joining. it went from hundreds, to thousands in seconds. 

as you were talking and clicking on your keyboard and mouse, playing a game, you felt arms around your shoulders. 

you smiled, yet continued playing. 

“why are you live on my account?” he laughs. 

you disconnected the headphones so that he could hear what you were hearing. 

“george, you’re being replaced.” dream said on discord. 

george smiles, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. “that was well deserved.” 

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Kickstart My Heart Pt.II (Kang Yeosang) Rated

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Pairing: Racer! Kang Yeosang × Waitress!/Fuckgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Light Angst, Crack, 80s Au.

Summary: Getting the chance to spend time alone with Y/N, Yeosang jumps at the opportunity, getting a little more than he bargained for.

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Dumb attempts at humor, second hand embarrassment, Lynn is still creepy, slight voyeurism/ exhibitionism, making out in car, heavy petting, allusions to oral (male receiving).

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The two best friends giggled amongst themselves as they entered inside the establishment, hands full of bags that contained to go boxes with several assorted sandwiches, burgers and fries inside of them. Hearing the bell signal customers, the peppy blonde at the front counter looked up from the thick stack of papers in front of her, mouth automatically showcasing her perfect and commercial worthy smile she always used when greeting newcomers or even regulars.

"Good afternoon what can-" Her expression immediately soured, smile fading and in its place puckered lips took shape.

"Oh... it's just you two." She drawled out the last words, eyes rolling as she peered back at the papers she was busy with.

Looking over at each other, Lynn simply shrugged her shoulders as one of her eyebrows raised up in puzzlement. Meanwhile, Y/N couldn't contain the soft snort that passed through her tight sealed lips, the sound coming out more like a goofy raspberry that further irritated the girl at the counter.

"Hey Sora. How's your day going so far?" Y/N tried to make conversation, but it was obvious the girl wasn't having it, blatantly ignoring both of them as her hand scribbled even faster, pages being turnt at a fast speed. Shifting awkwardly in her stance, Y/N turned her head to look at her friend, who merely shook her head, face clearly indicating to her to not try to act nicer and to simply get to the point of why they had come all the way to the workshop.

"Are the boys still here?"

With a few muttered grumbles, Sora lifted her pen and pointed it behind her towards the door that led to the garage, silently answering where the mentioned individuals currently were.

"Thanks."

Sora let out a scoff as the two girls made their past the counter, annoyed ever so vastly by the fact she had no authority nor power to forbid them from going to the back. Being friends with Wooyoung and the rest of the gang, obviously they got special privileges that allowed them to come and go as they pleased not only in the shop but also down at the tracks. And frankly Sora hated it, hence why she didn't refrain from demonstrating her hostility towards Y/N and Lynn, but especially towards the latter for more personal and complicated reasons that everyone was aware of but Lynn herself.

"I don't know why you go out of your way to be friendly towards her. She's been needing to take a chill pill ever since high school." Lynn retorted. Putting down the bags she was carrying for a moment, she pulled the sides of her oversized denim jacket back over her shoulders, the top having slipped off rather uncomfortably on her torso.

"Honestly?...... merely to piss her off." Y/N snickered maliciously, her true intentions finally coming to light.

"Well I'd say you do a fantastic job then. She just takes one look at you and her blood is boiling." Lynn pointed out as she picked up the bags once more.

"Trust me Lynn, you anger her more than I do." Thay statement made the petite girl do a double take at the office behind them.

"Me? Whatever did I do to Barbie?" She questioned, never once recalling a moment where she even spoke two words to the preppy girl that wasn't a casual greeting or goodbye.

Y/N looked with a deadpanned expression to her friend.

"You seriously don't- you know what? Never mind."

Not wanting to waste time trying to explain to her frequently unobservant buddy why Sora had a price on her head, Y/N just quickly rushed over towards the group of men huddled around the red Ferrari F40, one of them hidden underneath it, no doubt in the process of checking or fixing minor issues. Seeing the girls approaching them, all of the boys quickly sprang to life, Wooyoung leading the entourage as they came up towards them.

"So our lovely diner girls actually decided to join us for a movie night. I knew you guys couldn't resist my deadly charm."

Not only were the girls unamused by his little joke, but even his friends behind him shook their heads, disapproving greatly of his overly confident and light narcissistic attitude that he exuded at times.

"I only came cause I am not going to spend a perfectly good Friday night cooped up in my house watching Dynasty." Y/N firmly stated, shutting down any further attempts of flirting directed towards her.

"I like to see people get stabbed or gutted to death."

Cringing at the macabre girl's overly calm response, Wooyoung tilted his head back and looked at the tallest member of the gang, nose crinkling significantly as he silently mouthed a few words over to him, deeply questioning his friend's taste. Said friend simply shrugged and stepped up closer towards the girls, not surprising anyone that he'd pick a stance that had him facing Lynn from the front as he always liked to do.

"Well I'm just really happy you guys decided to join us. I thought you would be happy at knowing it was a horror film."

Not too far behind him, San and Mingi were already giggling amongst themselves, sending each other signals and jokingly theorizing how the night was going to go like.

"I am exceedingly happy Yunho. My body is so filled with joy and immense contentment that I can hardly keep myself from grinning." Despite the jubilant sentence, Lynn's face displayed absolutely no emotion and her raspy and low toned voice was still as monotone and lifeless as it tended to be. Yunho's bright smile nearly faltered, feet rocking back and forth awkwardly as he did not know how to proceed after such a statement. Luckily Mingi stepped in and changed the topic.

"Please tell me there's food in those bags and that we can have some." He pointed to one of the many bags that the girls were carrying.

Lifting one hand up then the other, Y/N shook the contents lightly.

"Your favorites." She chuckled when San came up and tightly squeezed her body into a hug.

"This is why I love you both." Y/N did not mind the slightest bit when he suddenly pulled her face towards his, mouth pressing hard and intense pecks on her cheek repeatedly as a show of gratitude. She was so used to his affectionate nature.

Turning around, Wooyoung cupped his hands over his mouth so that his voice could resonate loudly.

"Yeosang quit tinkering with it already! You're going to get dirty and we have a movie to catch." He shouted at whom the girls presumed was under the race car.

"You literally have speakers built into your vocal chords, there was no need for that makeshift megaphone." Lynn grumbled at him, causing the male next to her to burst out in a fit of giggles.

"Speakers built in hie vocal chords. Good one." Lifting his hand up, Yunho held it up towards Lynn, expecting her to high five him back but was instead met with her cold, squinting eyes that inspected his palm.

"Your aura is overly forced....and you have leftover grease on your hand." She looked away after finishing that sentence. Hearing her say that made Yunho instantly check his hand, immediately wiping it off on his jeans as he mentally slapped himself for looking like an idiot in front of the girl he fancied.

Not paying mind to whatever was happening around her, Y/N's eyes were glued on the figure that emerged from under the car. She couldn't help but admire the strong and buff biceps that were peeking out of the plain white tshirt the man was wearing, sleeves slightly rolled up above his shoulders. The angelic face belonging to him looked even more dazzling due to the light sheen of sweat around his temples, no doubt caused by the work he was doing. Even as he reached for one of the cleaning towels so he could wipe the grime and oil off his hands, Y/N continued to gaze at Yeosang, mind already conjuring up many ideas and fantasies with him as the main protagonist.

"Oh sweetie, you're not making this any easier." She mused inwardly, one of her fingers twirling a strand of her hair.

Discarding the rag on one of the toolboxes nearby, Yeosang carefully approached the group of friends, still awkward in interacting with all of them, trait that only helped in making him stand out like a sore thumb, more than he already did. Clamping a hand over his new buddy's shoulder, Wooyoung brought a hand up and patted one of his squishy cheeks.

"Now that you're finally here we can go." Looking around, Wooyoung gestured around.

"So who's riding with who?"

Immediately Yunho turned his face towards the girl next to him, about to voice out his want of having her in his car, but it seemed as if his plans would fall through as Mingi latched an arm around him.

"I'm going with Yunho." He seemed determined not to let go of him.

"Why? So you can cling to him during the scary parts?" A chorus of laughter poured out at San's amusing words.

"As if!" Mingi huffed, though it was more than obvious to everyone that it was precisely as San had predicted.

"Mingi... I was kinda hoping I could... you know?" Yunho tilted his head over to Lynn, making him get the picture of what he wanted.

"Whatever happened to bros before hoes?" Mingi sighed as he detached himself from Yunho.

"Ok then. Yunho you go with Mingi, San you can take the girls and I'll keep Sangie here company since he's still a little bit shy you know."

It seemed as if it was all decided about how their night was going to run, so Y/N knew she had to speak up and take the opportunity before it was all settled.

"Why don't I ride with Yeosang instead?"

Hearing her suggestion, the male in question widened his eyes in shock, not expecting her to voice that out loud. Even Wooyoung found it slightly odd and suspicious that she'd say that. But then he remembered the type of girl Y/N was and it started to set off alarm bells in his mind.

"Oh it's ok Y/N. You probably won't like to have him scream in your ear and cover his eyes like a baby at the jump scares." Not taking kindly to such blasphemous talk about him that painted an inaccurate picture.

But Y/N remained undeterred. She would stand her ground no matter what.

"Oh please, I insist. I'd love to take care of him..." She did not hide the sultry way she said that last part, eyes locked on Yeosang's, the boy swallowing hard and pressing himself further into Wooyoung's side. Wanting to bargain even further, Y/N took hold of her friend.

"How about this? Lynn goes with Yunho and Mingi, you ride with San and I get Yeosang?"

San cupped a hand over his mouth to muffle the laugh he wanted so desperately to release.

"I don't think it's just him she wants to get." He chuckled to himself.

"You're seriously leaving me alone with these 2 giants?" Lynn pointed to the two men at her right, one of which obviously was more than willing to welcome the arrangement.

"I promise Mingi won't disturb you too much with his crying." Yunho swore to her, hand coming up to clasp around Mingi's mouth when he attempted to protest that decision.

Wooyoung looked over to Yeosang, leaning in and dropping his voice so that only he could hear.

"If you don't want to, just say the word and I'll get her off your case." He offered. Although they had only met just a couple days ago, Wooyoung felt compelled and obligated to look out for the new boy, even if it meant protecting him from his other friends.

Knowing that he probably shouldn't and that it was a bad idea, Yeosang glanced over at Y/N. Meeting her eager eyes and cunning smile, any resolve to stay close to Wooyoung was immediately dispelled from his mind. He might never get another opportunity such as was presented to him and he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he was rather curious to find out more about the young vixen that he had heard so much about since he moved into town. With an assured smile that slightly worried Wooyoung, Yeosang stepped forward and held out his hand towards Y/N.

"Shall we get going then?"

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Unable to focus his attention towards the gigantic screen right in front of him, Yeosang slumped down further in his seat, fingers tugging his red sweater over his body. Every few seconds or so, he'd turn his head to peer at the girl on the passenger seat, looking exceedingly calm and collected unlike him. He was overly anxious to the point his food was still untouched, sitting in the backseat, long forgotten. Y/N, although collected, was bored out of her mind, elbow rested on the window, head being supported on her palm as her eyes never lingered away from the gore filled scenes being displayed across from them. There was a deafening silence inside the black Iroc Camaro, the tension between both individuals becoming increasingly thick.

Becoming desperate after 40 minutes of not getting him to make a move or even attempt to break the ice, she decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. Unzipping her green varsity jacket, Y/N began to slide it off her shoulders, revealing the low cut crop tank that she was hiding thus far.

"It's so hot today, don't you think?" She asked him as she tossed the clothing item behind her before settling back into her seat, fighting hard to keep her signature smirk off her face.

If he wasn't feeling hot before, Yeosang certainly started to feel heated after she had taken off her jacket. His hand reached out to grab the cup of soda in the cup holder, gulping most of the contents and ice down to help cool him down. He made an effort not to glance back at his companion anymore, knowing if he did he would have been unable to keep his eyes off her chest. Although it was dark and he turned away almost immediately, he had not missed the fact that she had chosen not to wear a bra, her nipples slightly poking out through the thin and flimsy shirt that even slowed one to make out the outline of her areolas. It was definitely a weakness of his, and Y/N was quick to find that out. Thumb coming up to her mouth, she began biting down on the nail to keep from giggling at Yeosang's reaction. He was devastatingly adorable with his wide eyes and stiffened posture, knee restlessly bouncing up in an agitated fashion. Looking in between his legs, she felt disappointed that she hadn't caused enough damage to earn a tent forming in his pants. He obviously knew how to calm himself in time. That wasn't enough to make her give up. On the contrary, it only hardened her resolve to get him to break.

Letting out an overly dramatic sigh, she reached her hands inside of her tank top. Cupping her breasts in her palms, she started off with slow movements, massaging them gently. Her eyelids started to flutter, closing only briefly as very faint and soft sighs were being exhaled through her nose. Although it was mostly done to tease the boy next to her, she got carried away and started to become more and more turned on with what she was doing. Each time she'd purposefully pinch and pull at her hardening peaks, a muffled whine would be heard coming from her throat, legs starting to spread inch by inch as her planters started to stick against her core.

Opening her eyes and tilting her head, she witnessed Yeosang's astounded expression that also held some lust in it. He was no longer sipping from his drink, but rather his teeth and tongue were merely toying around with the blue plastic straw as the grip on the base of the cup was lightly crushing it. The movie ultimately failed its purpose of keeping him distracted as his attention had fully diverted over to the sexy girl next to him, watching intently as she pleasured herself, wishing that it were his hands instead that were ministering such devotion to her breasts.

"Wanna be a doll and help me out here?" It seemed as if she had read his mind.

Without even a second of hesitation, Yeosang reached down and adjusted his seat back as far as it could go. Jumping at the invitation, Y/N climbed on top of him until she was straddling his lap. Yeosang's hands eagerly clasped around her waist, thumbs circling on the skin of her exposed abdomen. Cupping his cheeks, Y/N leaned her face down and harshly entangled her lips over his own. Yeosang hummed softly as he tasted the remnants of her cherry flavored chapstick, head tilting back when one of her hands tugged at his hair. His hands didn't hesitate to trail up and cup her mounds through her shirt, taking over the job that was previously being done by the owner's hands. Her insistent mouth parted his trembling lips, tongue poking out ever so slowly until it began divulging in the sweet taste of his wet cavern. Although he was no stranger to French kissing, Yeosang had never experienced a makeout session as intense as the one Y/N offered. She was very skilled and experienced, as proven by the swirl and swivel of her tongue against his own. He couldn't stop the moans pouring out from inside him, his hips bucking up into hers as if on instinct while his hands became more harsh and aggressive as they grasped at her breasts with near ferocity. Y/N would only pull away from their kiss for a few seconds to allow him to catch his breath before her lips lured him back into her. It was finally dawning on Yeosang's mind why so many men became captivated by her charms, even when knowing what the outcome would be. Here he was, the most lovely and hottest girl he'd ever met in his life, on his lap, making out with her while simultaneously getting to second base. He felt so damn lucky. But Y/N wanted to take it up a notch, not satisfied with ending the night with just heavy petting.

Sliding off his lap, she suprised him when she took hold of his belt and began to take it off him. Getting an inkling as to what she might have had in mind, Yeosang took hold of her wrist, making her head shot up at him.

"Is something wrong?" She began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Had she really fucked things up already.

Yeosang turned beet red as he swallowed harshly, trying hard to form the words his head was attempting to sought.

"Are you.... are you a virgin?" She felt like she would have died if the answer was yes.

Seeing her worried face, Yeosang quickly shook his head.

"No! I'm most certainly not a virgin." He sounded almost offended at the insinuation, but it helped calm Y/N down, releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"I just...I've never tried...that before."

His confession just made him cuter in her eyes, previous desire to corrupt and play with him only heightening to new levels after that revelation. Wanting to entice him, she moved her hand to cup at his bulge, loving the way he immediately gasped when she started palming him through his jeans. He bit down at his lip so harshly he believed it would draw blood. He wouldn't contain himself as he bucked his hips up into her palm, desperately wanting her to help him out with his problem. When her fingers reached for his zipper again, he didn't stop her, he merely lifted his hips up to help her as she pulled his pants down by the belt loops, his hardened cock popping out to greet her, surprising her when she noticed how large and thick it was, the head leaking with precum which she used to her advantage and began spreading it down his shaft. The contact of her hand gripping him had Yeosang shuddering, low groaning spilling out his lips. Looking up at him with a devilish grin, Y/N began lowering her head until her lips brushed against his tip.

"Just sit back and relax pretty boy."

A raspy wheeze was caught in Yeosang's throat as soon as he felt her warm mouth on his length, hands flying behind him to clutch at the leather seat of the car. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It felt so dirty, so wrong and yet he wanted it. He wanted her........

He didn't care if he was playing with fire and he'd get burned by the end of it.

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @yunhofingers @deja-vux @hanatiny @brie02 @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters @minhyukmyluv @rainteez02 @nanamarkie @serialee

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn���t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

Psycho: Facets of Filmmaking

Psycho, in many ways, turned out to be the little movie that could.  When the idea for it was first pitched, nobody but Hitchcock himself thought it’d succeed.

The film was originally based on Robert Bloch’s 1959 novel with the same name, a novel based on the story of Ed Gein, a murderer and grave-robber who would go on to inspire The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  Although studio executives at Paramount had already nixed the idea to do a film based on the novel, Hitchcock (shown the book by his assistant, Peggy Robertson) brought the idea to them again.  Hitchcock had made Paramount a lot of money in the past, but even so, they weren’t willing to go through with such a risky endeavor.  The script to Psycho had more violence, sex, and gore in it than had ever been seen in movies at the time.  In other words, it was too risky.

But, obviously, that didn’t stop Hitchcock.

See, Hitchcock already had his own production studio, Shamley Productions, used for the purpose of creating his television anthology show, Alfred Hitchcock Presents.  Hitchcock struck a deal with Paramount: he would finance the film himself, use his own production crew to make it, and then Paramount could distribute it.

Paramount agreed, though not without a lot of nervousness.  (Although later, it would sell the rights to Universal)

Obviously, no longer using a big production company changed the project drastically.  Hitchcock’s tendencies to work with big names (Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart, Grace Kelly) and use larger-than-life locations (such as in North by Northwest) obviously couldn’t be utilized to the same capacity with a smaller budget.  (In a way, that worked out, since the iconic sets for Psycho are still standing, and remain a tourist attraction for the Universal backlot.)

Instead, Psycho was filmed starring mostly smaller names, except for Janet Leigh.  The sets were cheap, and the overall look of the film was low-budget, resembling the exploitation films that Hitchcock had used as inspiration for the picture.  In order to keep the budget under $1 million, the movie was shot in black-and-white, also serving to alleviate Hitchcock’s thought that the shower scene would be less effective in color.

But this movie couldn’t be viewed as merely a screenplay.  As I mentioned earlier, this film was adapted from a novel, and that meant adapting had to be done.

Joseph Stefano was tasked with adjusting the screenplay, after the original script drug and seemed more suited for a television horror story (fitting, as the original screenwriter worked on Alfred Hitchcock Presents).  Stefano made a series of changes to the script, slightly moving away from the original novel from which it was adapted.  Despite changes however, the script remained remarkably faithful to the original story, but with a few major exceptions, especially where Norman Bates was concerned.

Stefano didn’t find the character of Norman Bates as written in the book wholly interesting.  In the original novel, Norman is a middle-aged, overweight, overtly creepy man, making him far less sympathetic and letting the audience on nearly immediately that he is a villain.  Stefano became more interested when Hitchcock suggested casting Anthony Perkins in the role, as a younger, more attractive, and more outwardly ‘normal’ Norman.  (Fittingly enough Perkins lost his own father at a young age, and was raised by his mother, much like his character.)  Other changes to the character included removing his alchoholism, (and the idea that the ‘Mother’ personality was brought on by a drunken stupor) interest in the occult, and pornography.

There were other changes, too.  The story itself, which in the novel, opens with Norman, was switched around.  In the book, Marion’s story takes up only two chapters in the story’s total 17, rather than taking up a large part of it.  Hitchcock and Stefano decided it would be better if Norman was not introduced at all until nearly half an hour into the movie, making it easier for the audience to start sympathizing with him, since less was known about him.

Of course, there were plenty of more minor differences as well: Marion’s name was originally Mary, Lila and Sam had a budding romance in the novel that was omitted to make Sam look better, and there was originally no psychiatrist to explain the ending, in the novel, Sam does the exposition.  Arbogast was originally murdered in the foyer, not on the stairs.  The novel was also more violent than the final film: in the novel, Marion is beheaded in the shower, not stabbed.

After all these changes were made, what was left was a pretty tight script.  Now all that was left was to film it.

Psycho was shot entirely at Revue Studios, on cameras specifically designed to mimic human perception, hence the point-of-view style of the film.  While the entire film is covered with Hitchcock’s signature style, there are a few scenes of note that he took special care to do.  (No points for guessing which ones.)

The shower scene, easily the most recognizable sequence in the film, turned out to be quite a challenge.  Filming took seven days, with nearly eighty shot set-ups.  The shower stall was designed with removable walls, so that cameras could be set up for every angle at any time.  As for the shots focused on the shower head, an overly large showerhead was designed, allowing a camera placed very close to avoid getting wet, while getting a shot of the water flowing down.  Janet Leigh, herself very exposed (with moleskin coverings barely preserving her modesty) was used for some shots, where her body double, Mari Renfro, was used for others.  The shots were very difficult to achieve in such a way where the actual nudity was not captured on camera, but in the end, they were successful in portraying the idea of it, without explicit detail.

The other thrill of the film, Arbogast’s murder, was similarly difficult.  For the tracking shot down the stairs, a camera was placed in a cage, hanging from the ceiling to shoot downward for the initial stabbing, primarily to conceal the identity of the murderer from the audience.  For the falling-down-the-stairs shot, Martin Balsam was merely sitting still and waving his arms before a screen, displaying shots achieved by a camera on a dolly moving down the stairs.  

Both of these were accompanied by that famous screeching violin sound, expertly arranged by Bernard Herrmann.  Herrmann, working with a lower budget, used only strings when creating the soundtrack for the film, saying it added to the stark contrast of the black-and-white film as well as adding to the incredible tension of the scenes themselves.  (Ironically, Hitchcock originally wanted no music whatsoever for the shower sequence.  Herrmann went ahead and recorded the music anyway, and made movie history by creating one of the most terrifying, and iconic, musical cues in movie history.)

Finally, the film was finished.  Surely with it on the way to the theaters, the movie’s journey would end, right?

Wrong.

As it turned out, the censors had a few problems with the finished project.  The sexual and violent content, mild by today’s standards, was considered too high, and after efforts to get Hitchcock to cut some scenes out (to no avail, although he did allow a few minor changes for international distribution), the film was reluctantly allowed to go to theaters.  (Psycho has the honor of showing the first toilet on film, which the censors also took offense to.  Hitchcock got to keep the scene after arguing that it was necessary to understand where the evidence of Marion’s stay at the Bates Motel had gone.)

Once released, Hitchcock set a rather unusual rule into place: no late entries into the theaters to see Psycho.  At first, theaters protested, afraid of losing business, but Hitchcock insisted, saying that if viewers attended the movie late, missing Janet Leigh entirely, they would feel cheated, and also miss out on some of the surprises.  In a way, Psycho was the first mainstream anti-spoiler film. (Back then, attending a theater halfway through and waiting for the next showing was relatively common.)  Theaters relented, and to their surprise, experienced lines of people, anxious to catch a viewing of Psycho from the beginning.  

The rest, as they say, is history.  Audiences loved the film, and, shortly thereafter, the critics did too, and, as we can see even today, the film has not lost much of its original popularity.

On September 8th, 1960, Alfred Hitchcock made movie history, pulling the rug out from under traditional storytelling and genre in general, becoming one of the most iconic and well-known films ever made, standing among the greats fifty years since its initial release.

Overall, not too shabby for a low-budget movie that studios wanted nothing to do with.

Join us next time for our final look and personal thoughts on Psycho, where we’ll be wrapping our discussion up on this movie.  Don’t forget my ask box is always open for discussions, questions, suggestions, or conversations!  Thank you so much for reading, and I hope to see you in the next article.

[crazyscotsmanthe1st]

Outlaw King

It was my pleasure recently to watch the new historical epic, Outlaw King. As someone who loves Scottish history, and in particular the story of Robert the Bruce, I was very excited to see it and fervently hoped it would live up to expectations. The trailers hinted as much, with details of the clothing and weapons, snippets of scenes and dialogue all promising that the film would be much truer to history than previous historical epics (one in particular springs to mind).

As a misty-eyed storyteller rather than a strict historian, I've always appreciated that film is an art form, and that history is the inspiration, not the script. But in the case of stories like Robert the Bruce, history presents us with such rich and vivid characters and tales that surely not much embellishment or interpretation is required.

Indeed, I felt the challenge for Outlaw King may be that Robert the Bruce is too massive, too gigantic to fit into one film. Rather than casting about for inspiration, the filmmakers must have been overwhelmed by the depth and breadth of the character and the story. The historical novelist Nigel Tranter deemed it necessary to publish a trilogy. I couldn't help thinking that it may take a trilogy to properly tell the story on film too.

The filmmakers dealt with this by concentrating on just three years: 1304 – 1307. From the fall of Stirling Castle, which marked the final capitulation of the Scots at the end of Wallace’s campaign; to Bruce’s first major victory at the Battle of Loudoun Hill. In doing so, it covers the bleakest and most desperate part of Bruce’s reign. It’s a study of a man who becomes king, only to immediately lose everything and become a fugitive, then to become a guerilla fighter as he rebuilds his strength to the point he’s finally able to face his enemies in a pitched battle.

So there’s no Bannockburn - Bruce’s greatest triumph is not even mentioned. His duel with Sir Henry de Bohun, the Declaration of Arbroath, the launching of a second front in Ireland, the death of Edward II and the final peace treaty which ended the war and confirmed Bruce as king of an independent Scotland – all are left out of the timeframe. There is speculation that this leaves the door open for a sequel – and I do hope so. Bannockburn deserves to be depicted properly in film, and a battle of that scope and importance probably needs about half a film to be portrayed with any justice. So I’m glad it wasn’t squeezed or simplified into just a few minutes tacked on at the end.

Bruce himself is played by Chris Pine of Star Trek fame. As an American playing a Scotsman, there was inevitably much chat about how good his accent would be. For the most part, he pulled it off alright. There was the occasional errant vowel that those of us who speak with Scottish accents will pick up on, but the rest of the world won’t notice. He plays Bruce as strong and authoritative, but with a softer side and compassionate streak. His tenderness towards his daughter and the respect he shows his new wife endear him to the audience. We understand that this is a powerful noble with a claim to the throne, but also someone very human. I think he gets it spot on.

Edward I is played by Stephen Dillane, who most of us know as Stannis Baratheon from Game of Thrones. I’ve always thought that Charles Dance, who plays Tywin Lannister in the same series, would be the perfect actor to play this role – he has Edward’s height (hence the nickname Longshanks), and effortlessly projects an air of sinister authority. But Dillane does a very good job. He gets across the character of an ageing and battle hardened monarch, in a hurry to crush his enemies and tie up loose ends in the time he has left.

I’ll now go into detail about events in the film, and compare them to what really happened in history. So if you haven’t seen the film yet and you don’t know the history - SPOILERS AHEAD.

The film opens with Bruce on his knees, swearing allegiance to Edward and being accepted back into the fold after having rebelled against him. The dialogue gives us an immediate insight into Bruce’s complicated loyalties as Edward mentions that his father had once accompanied him on a crusade to the Holy Land. Bruce’s rivalry with John Comyn and their competing claims to the throne are also mentioned. A lot of information, all of it historically correct, is conveyed in that one scene – and it doesn’t feel rushed or forced.

We are introduced to the future Edward II – not a sniveling weakling as portrayed in that other historical epic, but a bold and impetuous young prince impatient to escape his father’s shadow. His demand to spar with Bruce and the energy with which he swings the sword immediately banish any lingering memory of that other version of the character. This is a dangerous and unpredictable man, and his daft hairdo signals to us that this is someone we’re supposed to hate.

There’s a brief introduction to James Douglas, who appears before the king to ask for his lands and title, which were stripped after his father resisted Edward, to be restored. He is unceremoniously rebuffed and thrown out of the tent. Here is a man with unfinished business.

Then we see War Wolf, the largest trebuchet ever built. As it took shape below the walls of Stirling Castle, the Scottish defenders had tried to surrender. But Edward refused to accept their surrender and told them to stay exactly where they were - he wanted to test War Wolf and see it in action. Again all this historically accurate information is gotten across easily in the dialogue, and gives us an insight into Edward’s sheer ruthlessness.

Having established the background and circumstances in which the story takes place, some time is then spent on Bruce’s arranged marriage to Elizabeth de Burgh. Played by the beautiful and talented Florence Pugh, she is quickly established as a strong and affectionate woman, keen to establish a relationship with Bruce’s daughter Marjorie from his previous marriage (his first wife died in childbirth). Bruce respects Elizabeth’s boundaries and does not attempt to force himself on her on their wedding night. As discussed above, this helps establish him as a caring and honourable character.

Those of us keen to see the historical plot move forward may feel this part of the film drags on a bit, but I understand it’s necessary for the audience to develop empathy with the characters. And given that the family will later be broken up and separated for years, this being a key part of Bruce’s personal trials and agony, it was important to understand these relationships.

William Wallace is mentioned a couple of times, but remains off-screen. An almost spectral figure, defeated but still at large. As John Comyn describes him, “not a man, but an idea”. That is, until his arm and part of his torso is tied to the Mercat Cross in Berwick.

It is the shock of Wallace’s brutal fate that prompts Bruce to break his oath to Edward and begin making plans for a second rebellion. This is where the film starts to take liberties a wee bit. In reality, seven months separated Wallace’s death from Bruce’s coronation. But I understand the film’s need to condense events and move things along.

Bruce meets John Comyn in Dumfries Kirk to try to enlist his support. History does not record exactly what was said in that meeting, so the filmmakers had a blank canvas. Bruce attempts to put the issue of who will wear the crown to one side and simply persuade Comyn to join him in raising an army. But Comyn will not be persuaded, and threatens to report Bruce’s intentions to Edward. This is what prompts Bruce to draw his dagger and stab him.

History records that Bruce then stumbled out of the church and said to one of his followers: “I think I’ve killed Comyn”, and that his follower said “I’ll make sure” and went back to finish him off. This is left out of the film: it is a single killing blow.

Bruce has murdered his rival, a powerful noble with connections throughout Scotland, in a church. In doing so, he has turned half of Scotland against him and ensured excommunication from the Catholic Church – which was a huge deal in the 14th Century. He’s in deep, deep trouble and his only way out is to immediately claim the throne. He has no choice now: it is all or nothing.

As the film faithfully records, he heads straight to Glasgow Cathedral (it’s a joy to see it on screen) to ask for the forgiveness and support of the Scottish bishops. They agree to absolve him of guilt for the murder and to make him king, in return for an oath of loyalty to the Scottish church. All accurate.

The coronation scene is beautifully filmed, and again the dialogue effortlessly explains that the crown jewels and Stone of Destiny have been stolen by Edward, but a simple gold coronet has been fashioned. This is placed on Bruce’s head by a woman, though we are not told who she is. She is in fact the daughter of the Earl of Fife, who traditionally crowned Scottish monarchs.

Elizabeth’s comment “Alas, we are but king and queen of the May” is actually a real quote. She is supposed to have said that.

The surprise night attack at Methven which destroyed most of Bruce’s army, did take place more or less as depicted, though followers of historical films always roll their eyes at the use of fire arrows. They make for a great spectacle on screen, but would have been completely impractical in real life. The battle took place in June, when the nights in Scotland are not particularly dark. The soldiers would have been able to see what they were doing without the use of fire.

Methven was a massive setback for Bruce. Fleeing with the remnants of his army, he sends his wife and daughter, in the care of his brother, to Kildrummy Castle where he hopes they’ll be safe.

But Kildrummy falls to the English. Bruce’s brother is hanged and disembowelled, and his wife and daughter taken into captivity. This is where the film starts to take liberties again. The future Edward II is seen leading the English forces and is the driving force of the action. In reality, I’m not aware of Edward II being anywhere near Kildrummy.

It’s clear that the filmmakers have decided that Edward II is to be the main hate figure for the film. While they’ve kept to historical events for pretty much every other aspect of the story, Edward II is allowed to rampage across the film doing whatever he wants. That just makes me hate him even more: whenever he appears, he’s ruining history.

Bruce’s band of survivors is then attacked by the MacDougalls at Tyndrum, making his plight even more desperate. This is depicted as taking place on the banks of a loch, when in reality it was a hill pass more similar to where we see Bruce’s first encounter with MacDougall.

According to history, one of the MacDougalls got close enough to grab a brooch from Bruce’s tunic. Bruce killed the man, but was forced to leave the brooch in the dead man’s hand. This particular incident is not shown, but Bruce is seen in the thick of the action. Throughout the film, he’s depicted as a warrior who leads his men into battle, and not an armchair general king. This is true to history.

Bruce arrives on Islay, and hears news of what has happened to his family. This is his darkest moment – thousands of his followers have been killed, his family dead or in captivity and his cause looking utterly hopeless. I feel the film could have done more to explore the depth of Bruce’s despair. You never get the feeling he’s on the brink of giving up or in the throes of a black depression. In reality, the man must have been utterly heartbroken and near suicidal.

The encounter with the spider in the cave is not shown, but is referenced: Bruce says at one point that he’ll be like a spider making its web. Although it’s disputed whether the incident with the spider ever took place, it is a powerful storytelling metaphor and surely a gift to filmmakers. I’d have used it – its inclusion would be much more forgivable than any of Edward II’s nonsense.

Bruce returns to the mainland and begins a hit-and-run guerrilla campaign against the occupying forces. Castles are captured by stealth and cunning, then burned to the ground to make them useless to the enemy. This is true to history – Bruce had no time for castles, and preferred to deny their use to the enemy by destroying them, rather than trying to garrison them himself.

James Douglas is given permission to take his own family’s castle with a small band of men. He sneaks into the chapel during a mass, where he promptly starts stabbing people and shouting “Douglas!” at the top of his lungs. Having taken the castle, he invites the local people in to eat the food and carry away anything of value. Then he torches the place. All of this, believe it or not, is historically accurate.

In building up to Loudoun Hill, the filmmakers decided to omit the Battle of Glen Trool. I was a bit disappointed about this – I’d have loved to see it depicted on screen. It’s a fairly simple battle – Bruce lured the English into the glen where they were strung out in a narrow line, while concealing his own forces on the hillside. At his signal, the Scots rolled large boulders down the hill, which smashed into the enemy line and broke their formation. The Scots then charged down the hill themselves to finish the job. Though it was a minor battle, it was Bruce’s first real victory and attracted more men to his cause – as well as the larger English force which he would defeat at Loudoun Hill.

Edward I decides to personally lead his army into Scotland to crush Bruce once and for all. But he collapses en route, and before he dies he orders his son to boil his body and carry his bones into battle with the Scots. Although this actually happened after Loudoun Hill, the details are correct – Edward did give those orders, and his son did choose to ignore them.

The tactics at the Battle of Loudoun Hill are correctly depicted, and would go on be used again at Bannockburn . The digging of ditches to trip the horses of the English cavalry and funnel their attack into a narrow front, and the use of boggy ground to deny them momentum – tactics first tested at Loudoun Hill. In this sense, it is the first of Bruce’s important tactical victories – it teaches him how to defeat a much larger force with heavy cavalry in an open field.

Edward II makes his final, biggest and most ridiculous historically inaccurate appearance here. Charging into the midst of the Scottish army to challenge Bruce to single combat, he eventually collapses exhausted and begins grovelling in the mud. Inexplicably, the Scots simply let him go. If the Scots had a chance to capture the king (or rather, heir to the throne) of England, there’s no way they would have passed that up. Bruce could have had his wife and daughter back in 1307, rather than having to wait another seven years.

This is easily the most ridiculous part of the film, and it’s a tragedy that it happens so near the end because it leaves such a bad impression.

In the final scene, Bruce is seen being reunited with his wife as text explains that she was released in a prisoner exchange. This didn’t happen until after Bannockburn in 1314, so the film has fast forwarded quite a bit – but I suppose it was necessary to provide the audience with a conclusion to their love story.

Positives: the cast gave brilliant performances, particularly Chris Pine, Florence Pugh and Stephen Dillane. Scotland looks utterly gorgeous throughout, and many of the scenes are beautifully filmed. History is, for the most part, respected.

Negatives: I’d have liked to have seen a deeper “despair to determination” arc in Bruce’s character development, perhaps utilising the spider. And Edward II ruins everything.

In conclusion, a story carefully and delicately told. Some liberties are taken, but that's inevitable in film. They say the darkest hour comes before the dawn, and this film captures that moment in Scottish history. Bruce’s darkest hour was also Scotland’s, but ultimately he and his kingdom rose from the ashes and triumphed. It’s a story of survival, hope and victory. And it’s all the more inspiring because it’s true.

It’s a story I’ve known all my life, and always been keen and happy to share with others. Now millions around the world can share it. Flawed and imperfect, it is nevertheless as faithful a retelling as we can hope for in the form of a big-budget movie.

As the years go on, Outlaw King will become a true classic. It deserves to be.

[wkm-theories]

-Insert some clever title-

I disagree that all 3 entities are conscious in Dark. The way I see it is like a car. Damien is the driver, Celine is the engine (powers everything), and we the viewers, are the car. However, all of our main personality traits have melded together, hence Dark’s unstable behavior. We know Damien’s the dominant trait because when we reach for the cane, our hands change to his.

Continuing, Y/N AKA the car is the most important object. Without the car, there wouldn’t be a driver or power. We’re the starting point in this video. Also, Y/N is a DA, why is that crucial? An attorney sifts through every detail to help his case, going to great lengths and even stretching the truth to prove it. That sounds pretty familiar… to the fan-theorists. We are intricate to Dark. He didn’t exist before us. However we are guided and led by him, and our theories couldn’t function without him. Again, like a car.

About the house/dark entity, whatever… I don’t think plays an active role in Darkiplier, rather it is the thing that corrupted all of us. As much as Damien despises Mark now, it’s not in his nature to act like Dark. Since there’s less of Celine shown in WKM, I can’t vouch for her, but she even CALMS Damien’s rage towards Mark. In chapter 3, she feels that the house itself has dark forces surrounding it. (Also the last thing she says to you before you trip begins is keep your enemies close. Is anybody talking about this??) Also, all the groundskeeper said. Something happened to all of us either in the void or once we were brought back.

WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS SCENE IN CHAPTER 4???? It starts at the 1:17 mark. This is obviously something big. Not only do we get future lines, a creepy monochrome overlay, but also different characters’ POV!!! And IT leads us to the detective’s room?!!? This is too good to be true. This occurrence wasn’t even triggered by anything like Celine’s witchcraft. You know what’s also monochrome? Dark. So I think we were led by the house to discover the detective’s room because after that, that’s where all the S hits the fan.

Back to the car. This would also explain how the colors work in the other videos. In almost every instance, we see Dark with blue, Damien’s color. Blue is associated with trust, loyalty, intelligence, and truth. I’m just rehashing what others have said, but we all think about Damien in this way. Who wouldn’t trust such a pure, innocent boi? What these color theorists leave out is blue creates a calming effect. Whenever we see Damien, we feel safe. And when people feel safe, calm, and comfortable, that is when a manipulator, like Dark, strikes.

Red represents Celine. Across the board, the appearance of red is almost as consistent as blue, BUT red’s nature is more volatile. What does red mean? A quick Google search says it means power, danger, desire, malice, the most intimidating, and is considered the most manipulative. In ADWM and AvD (Anti v Dark), there are erratic moments where red either overtakes the screen, or barely present. Specifically, in the AvD video, he has huge red backdrop, meaning that in this void, he is way more powerful or not able to control his power as well. When Anti and Dark bicker, Dark’s red is “glitched” ;) out, meaning his power is being contested. This instance doesn’t happen in any other video with Dark (I checked). As more Egos file in, he tries to exert the red again to mostly be intimidating, but it fails. When Dark Chica arrives, he’s completely monochrome, meaning he has almost no power in this situation.

Both of these colors have been addressed by the other AMAZING Theorists, BUT they forget a third, less prominent color. Green.

            Green is rarely seen in any video with Dark, and Damien and Celine weren’t green. That leaves us with one option: the viewer’s color was green. Not only are we the least functioning part of Darkiplier, our color too is the last. Green represents life. We the viewers, essentially gave life back to the trio by giving our body, and the birth of Dark with our theorizing. We might be the least prominent one, but we are still there.

            The final nail in the coffin against the popular “all 3 are conscious and fight for control” is: it doesn’t match Dark. His personality is consistent in every video, and we never see any evidence to internal arguing that someone with 3 would. Some would argue that his twitchiness (when we see 2 Darks: one screaming and one not) in the void in ADWM portrays it. I think it’s because we, the viewer, are still alive and therefore the void gets distorted. Also, it doesn’t even look like the two versions are arguing; Dark’s just freaking frustrated! If you’re not convinced with the twitches, in WKM where everyone is dead in the void, there is not a single twitch. Although, it could be argued that since they weren’t joined yet, there would be no need to glitch. For those who’d say that, I’d reply “Good eye!” But in AvD, we again don’t witness any twitches at all, and there’s no human person alive in there.

The Big picture is WKM is a “perspective” of Dark and Warf’s origin story, told from Dark’s point of view. Based on what we know about Dark’s personality by Mark, it’s easy to connect the dots that he’d make Mark look like a jerk to turn us to his side. Y’all spent an entire post describing how WKM is filmed to make us like Damien (brilliant btw!). The best lies are always half-truths. While I’m not defending Mark, he is more of a jerk (in ADWM and WKM) in this universe, I doubt that he’d want such specific revenge against the Colonel as many theorize. Also, many pointed out that Mark wasn’t stabbed 30 times, drowned, etc. it’s just impossible because there’s no blood on him. This was all embellished… by someone who would profit from it.

Now, you may be wondering how the HECK WKM even works with all the rest of the lore. Especially ADWM. Mark’s still alive in ADWM, but he died in WKM which is an origin story?? Rest assured, there’s an explanation, but here’s the twist: Mark didn’t die in the first place. Damien is the one on the floor, dressed as Mark.

            To those that immediately scoff at the idea, hear me out. Mark in this universe is an actor, which is shown in ADWM. If Mark and Damien were besties since childhood, he would know Damien’s little quirks. Even enough to throw off the Colonel! When Damien claims that Mark is walking around in his body, he’s doing so in a figurative sense. This would fix the plot-hole of where did “Mark’s” body go and why “Damien” was never found. Also, this would fix the relationship between ADWM & WKM.

Finishing off, I’d like to leave the only comment Mark has written about Dark on Tumblr:

“For the people picking Darkiplier as their favorite character of mine… I don’t know who Darkiplier is. He is not a “character” I play. I don’t even know when you all started calling him by that name. You made him real. And now he knows who you are. Why did you do this…”

But hey, that’s just a theory…A DARK THEORY! Thanks for reading- Car Anon.

(P.S.) Y'all are doing an amazing job with this tumblr page! 

*Wow! This is a great, very well put together theory! I’m glad we got the submit thing working, because this was worth it! As always, what are everyone’s thoughts? I have some, but I think I’ll save them for a longer reblog later. -Ironwoman*

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

The Shape of Things – HALLOWEEN H20: Twenty Years Later

The dictionary definition of cash-in is described thusly: ‘to take advantage of or exploit (a situation)’. Ever since the motion picture industry became a going concern, it has unapologetically cashed-in on the success of its product. Take, for example, Bride of Frankenstein, Curse of the Cat People, Dracula: Prince of Darkness, or even Halloween II. While not necessarily superior to their predecessors, each is a wonderful film in its own right, beloved by genre fans. But there’s little doubting that they only exist due to the resounding success of the original; a studio, production company, writer or director merely sought to exploit this.

By the early 1990s, the horror film entered something of a fallow period. While it’s erroneous to suggest that there was nothing of value produced – Candyman and Army of Darkness, for example, both arrived in 1992 – it seemed there was very little to entice the teenage demographic to the cinema. Films such as Jacob’s Ladder saw a shift towards more mature themes and the psychological horrors of Jonathan Demme’s Silence of the Lambs only exemplified this approach. Merely a decade earlier, the slasher film was in its Golden Age, but as the 80’s wore on, tastes began to change. The teens who flocked to cinemas to take in scenes of gratuitous gore and nudity had all but grown up and moved on while the calibre of output took something of a nose-dive. As the 90’s dawned, purveyors of the slasher were still gamely toiling away. Amid the dreck, there was still a gem or two waiting to be discovered, but seeking out a cinema prepared to show Slumber Party Massacre III or Popcorn was a singularly tricky proposition. For all intents and purposes, the slasher had ceased to exist.

At the same time, a young actor named Kevin Williamson was pursuing a second career as a screenwriter. While attending a class at UCLA he managed to sell his first script, Killing Mrs. Tingle. He soon discovered, however, as the script languished on a shelf, that selling a screenplay did not necessarily equate to said screenplay evolving into a motion picture. But Williamson had an ace up his sleeve. After watching a news special about the serial killer Daniel Rolling, the writer began to sketch out the opening scene for a screenplay that he titled Scary Movie. Having found its way to Dimension Films, the genre arm of Miramax, the script landed on the lap of actress Drew Barrymore. Impressed by the mix of scares, irreverence, and an unapologetic celebration of the genre, she quickly signed on. After cajoling director Wes Craven, still licking his wounds after the failure of Vampire in Brooklyn, the film, now re-titled Scream was an instant hit, catapulting the slasher film and the horror genre back into the spotlight.

  “The resurgence of the slasher offered the opportunity for a new chapter [of The Halloween saga] to be written…”

  The autumnal period between late August and early December proved to be the most fertile ground for new slasher films. October 1997 and November 1998 saw the release of the first two installments in the I Know What You Did Last Summer franchise. The first in the Urban Legend series opened in September 1998, while the latest in the Chucky saga premiered only a month later. Kevin Williamson’s latest genre stab, a mix of high school anxiety crossed with body snatching paranoia in The Faculty rounded out the year, along with Gus Van Sant’s (nearly) shot-for-shot remake of proto-slasher, Psycho. Sandwiched between this new raft of slashers, and teen horrors, was another attempt to bring back a horror titan from the supposed dead. On August 5th, 1998, US audiences once again welcomed back Michael Myers in Halloween H20: Twenty Years Later.

Another product under the Dimension Films banner, Halloween H20 is in many ways the ultimate cash-in, seeking potential box office from two revenue streams, the nascent slasher boom and fans of the Halloween franchise. But it’s too simplistic to dismiss the film as nothing more than an attempt to jump the bandwagon.

For a start, the franchise had hit rock-bottom with Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers five years previously and with the coffers full, here was an ideal opportunity to redress the balance. Was it cynical? Possibly. But the fact of the matter is fans will always want to see more of their favorite anti-heroes. The resurgence of the slasher offered the opportunity for a new chapter to be written and Dimension duly charged Kevin Williamson with the job. His treatment, by way of some heavy exposition, linked the entire story together, from John Carpenter’s original to the forthcoming installment (with the exception of Halloween III: Season of the Witch). After consideration, it was decided to eschew several elements of Williamson’s story including any reference to the series beyond Halloween II. Hence, the alleged working title of Halloween 7: The Revenge of Laurie Strode became Halloween H20: Twenty Years Later. What remained of Williamson’s treatment was a slightly reworked version of the opening sequence, the academy setting and, most important, Laurie Strode.

      Halloween H20 is very much Laurie Strode’s story. Twenty years on she is still coming to terms with the events of Halloween night. Except, of course, she’s not really at all. Her coping strategy is to anesthetize the events with prescription drugs and alcohol. While she has a rudimentary command over her waking nightmares, she has no control over her unconscious mind. This is where we first meet Laurie (now Keri Tate), writhing on the bed in the grip of what we suppose is one of the countless times she awakens screaming. Her son John attempts to reassure her that she’s safe and well.

Of course, when John opens the medicine cabinet, and we see row upon row of prescription bottles. The truth about Keri’s mental condition is etched on his face as he taps several white pills into the palm of his hand. This is how Keri starts the day. This is how Keri starts every day. And when John pointedly mentions that they’re out of Percodan, Keri reacts with a smile and a change of subject. This is Keri back in control, but it’s a thin facade amid the opioid crisis taking place under the Tate roof.

Keri’s relationship with her son is only superficially matriarchal, but the dynamic between the two shifts continuously. As a single mother, responsible for a large number of children as the headmistress of a private academy, she unconsciously draws upon her vocational skills to scold or cajole him. He tries to make light of the increasing tension between them, by half-seriously suggesting: “Today is the day you are going to realize that I am seventeen years old and your overprotection and paranoia is inhibiting my growing process.” Keri’s face darkens though when John pushes to be allowed to leave the academy on a camping trip. When the subject of the anniversary of the Haddonfield murders arises, however, the dynamic shifts again and it is John who assumes the role of adult, drawing a line under the conversation, reminding her that “We’re through with all that.”

  “Keri is floundering […] struggling to reconcile the disparate threads of her life through a thin veneer of normality…”

  Despite the self-medication, or possibly because of it, the visions of Michael Myers remain. In a window reflection, for example, (she briefly mistakes her lover and colleague Will Brennan for Michael), or when a silhouetted figure approaches (Will again). Despite his attention and concern – Will is a counselor at the academy – and an offer to listen to Keri talk on a non-professional level about a problem her problems, Keri brushes him off, ordering another large glass of wine when he briefly excuses himself.

In Williamson’s treatment, Keri reveals the extent of her turmoil to the character Jake (a fellow teacher, who becomes Will in the final script), when he confronts Keri about her substance abuse: “I can go to all the little 12 step meetings in the world, and I can say, “Hi, I’m Keri, and I’m an alcoholic.” And everyone can hold me and tell me everything is going to be fine with Keri once she quits drinking but what you seem to be missing from your loving and non-judgemental point of view is that Keri doesn’t exist. At the end of the day, the Halloween mask comes off and it’s Laurie Strode who has to find a way to get to sleep at night without a butcher knife slicing into her dreams.”

It’s a revealing moment, but in the context of the final film perhaps a little too heavy-handed. Although the audience is mutually complicit in the knowledge that Michael Myers is coming for Keri, she only divulges information about her past and the persistent fear that Michael will one day come to finish the job. Finally disclosing her past, two-thirds of the way through the film, it also becomes abundantly clear that Keri’s alcoholism and addiction to prescription drugs aren’t wholly to blame for her visions and hallucinations, but an exacerbation of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) that she hasn’t even begun to address.

      As Halloween approaches, Keri’s alcohol and chemical dependency increase to ward off the encroaching dread that this may be the year Michael finally finds her. And yet, like the Ouroboros – the snake eating its own tail – Keri increasingly uses Michael as a crutch to indulge in her addictions. And when Keri scolds John for going off campus, arguing that all she asks for is one day for him not to disobey her, his response is as cutting as it is final: “If you want to stay handcuffed to your dead brother, that’s fine. But you’re not dragging me along. Not anymore.”

Keri is floundering during the first half of the film and struggling to reconcile the disparate threads of her life through a thin veneer of normality. Like Michael Myers, she also wears a mask. Michael’s is both literal and figurative, concealing any trace of humanity. But Keri’s mask is slipping. Twenty years of hiding, of maintaining a fictional life have taken their toll. Ironically, it’s a work of fiction that brings Keri to the realization that she must face her deepest fear. In a parallel to John Carpenter’s original, during a class discussion on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and the notion of fate, Molly Cartwell, the love interest of John, provides the moment of revelation: “Victor reached a point in his life where he had nothing left to lose. The monster saw to that by killing off everybody that he loved. Victor finally had to face it. It was about redemption. It was his fate.”

Another key moment follows when Keri finally allows John to go on the camping trip, telling him: “It’s good for you, it’s good for me.” A mother’s intuition is described as “the deep intuitive blood bond a mother can have with her child”, and it’s never more obvious than during this brief exchange. Keri is ostensibly giving John his freedom when her true motive is to move him out of harm’s way, sensing that Michael is closing in. John, meanwhile, is fully aware that something is amiss, but his plans have changed anyway, which will incur horrific consequences.

  “Halloween H20: Twenty Years Later remains a curiously underappreciated installment in the series.”

  Where Halloween H20 starts to falter is during the latter part of the film. The scenes which feature Michael Myers stalking John and his friends follow slasher conventions to the letter. They’re required to because this is what convention dictates, so it’s no surprise when the most sexually-active couple inevitably dies in line with the puritanical trope. The killing of young Sarah Wainthrope is particularly brutal, though not in a gore-fuelled sense. Instead, we’re made to watch Michael’s impassive masked face as he brings the knife down again and again on the unfortunate Sarah.

Elsewhere, components designed to ramp up the tension are all present. Near escapes, wounds that temporarily slow but don’t stop Michael, keys dropped at the vital moment and a handful of fun, but inconsequential call-backs to Carpenter’s original. It’s all somewhat by-the-numbers until Keri finally comes face to face with Michael. In that brief moment, Keri is Laurie Strode again. She’s no longer the headteacher of a private academy, an addict or a victim; she’s a mother, and she’s a fighter. Laurie is the one holding the gun, and when she tells Will to save himself because she won’t leave her son, we believe her. The dynamic has shifted once again.

Inevitably, it’s Will who finds the sharp end of Michael’s kitchen knife. In a moment of impetuous heroism, he snatches the gun away from Laurie and shoots Michael, only to discover he’s ‘killed’ the campus security guard Ronnie Jones. Shamefully, LL Cool J is given very little to do with a poorly-written attempt at comic relief, aside from reading aloud his attempts at adult fiction to an unseen girlfriend on the end of the phone.

    Laurie, finding unimaginable strength and resolve, finally sends her son out of harm’s way and goes to face her familial demon. In the final reckoning, Laurie, in her own meta moment, seemingly understands the rule of a killer returning for one last scare and following a brief, and almost touching moment of silent reconciliation between siblings, removes the head of the beast.

There’s plenty of truth to Jamie-Lee Curtis’s performance in Halloween H20, and it’s likely because Curtis herself was at the time addicted to alcohol and painkillers (she became sober the year following H20‘s release). Watching the film through fresh eyes after learning of her addiction struggles Curtis’ performance takes on an even greater sense of urgency and pathos. The pain etched upon her face isn’t acting, it’s the anguish of the actor.

With this being the twentieth anniversary of the release of Halloween H20, there has been plenty of reappraisal of the film, with many citing the phrase ‘cash-in’ and dismissing Steve Miner’s film outright for daring to be made in the wake of the Scream phenomenon. H20 seems to fall foul of some of the most vitriolic ire when discussing the late-90s slasher releases, and yet, aside from Scream, probably has the most compelling point to make. It’s undoubtedly a more straightforward film than it’s more celebrated sub-genre cousin, which may go some way to explaining why it receives the most criticism. But it’s no more glossy than any of its contemporaries, and the return of Jamie Lee Curtis in the role of Laurie Strode elevates it above similar material.

Dismiss it as a cash-in all you want. Despite the unfortunate timing of its release, Halloween H20 was actually trying to say something, however heavy-handedly, about the nature of PTSD and its effects on the individual. While Curtis has since revisited the role that she’ll forever be associated with, in the weakest of the series, Halloween: Resurrection and the forthcoming Halloween reinvention from Blumhouse – a film that revokes all but the original film’s place in the canon – Halloween H20: Twenty Years Later remains a curiously underappreciated installment in the series.

  The post The Shape of Things – HALLOWEEN H20: Twenty Years Later appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

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