#the horrors of love making the more grotesque of two evils look more inviting

[cinnaminsvga]

Taming of the Bridezilla | Seokjin

→ summary: Picture this: You had been (not-so) cordially invited to the wedding of your least favorite cousin—a woman who had been hellbent on making your childhood a living hell. Now older and wiser, you would think that you would put aside your differences and attend your cousin’s special day without any hard feelings, right? You wouldn’t seek revenge, now would you?

→ genre: fake dating!au, i2l, humor/crack, fluff  → warnings: seokjin and oc paradoxically have big yet small brains, fake proposals, not-so fake mutual pining, thinly veiled baby-making jokes, terrible family members, ass slapping (no worries it’s consensual) → words: 6.3K → a/n: first of all, no this is not a horror fic; i just thought the title was funny. unless you consider the stupidity of the characters to be mildly horrifying, then sure you can count this as a horror fic. this insanely ridiculous fic was commissioned by @breadoffoxy!! anyone who loves chaotic jin is an angel in my book. yes, this comm is a bit longer than expected but what can i say... i love me some jin. anyway i hope you guys enjoy!

“You got the ring, right?”

Seokjin pats his left breast pocket and gives you a quick smirk. The bump where the ring should be is fortuitously hidden by his large and garish boutonniere, looking to all the world like he had pinned a whole head of cabbage to his suit. Even then, he still somehow manages to make it work. “Of course I did. This entire plan would be useless if I didn’t have it,” he says.

“What flavor did you get? I quite like the watermelon one,” you muse, smacking your lips in anticipation. “Though it’s hard to remember since I haven’t had a ring pop in years.”

Seokjin laughs loudly, startling a group of aunties gossiping in the corner. They all shoot glares at him, though the effect has lost its novelty as they’ve already been glaring at you from the moment you arrived. You suppose that they have a good reason to, considering that you both arrived at the reception an entire 30 minutes late. You can imagine them cursing you under their breath, saying something like, “You’ve brought dishonor to us all!” or whatever it is that aunties like to say these days.

“I could have gotten you all the flavors available at the convenience store if you wanted, but then we’d be 40 minutes late instead,” Seokjin sighs, pretending to be anguished at the thought.

You snort in the most unladylike manner that you can, grinning wildly when you hear one of the aunties gasp in horrified disbelief. From the way they’re reacting, you might have thought that you just flashed them your Borat-inspired neon green thong.

“I do love a man who can treat me well,” you giggle, earning a soft pinch from him.

“Oh, hush. I know you love it. You nearly burst into tears the other day when I bought you a McFlurry because your broke ass was a dollar short,” Seokjin teases. You squawk indignantly, unable to come up with a retort.

“Whatever! Just because you’re a trust fund baby doesn’t mean you get to bully my impoverished state. Just you fucking wait ‘til I get hit by a wealthy 77 year old’s BMW and then I’ll be made for life,” you huff, your illusion of annoyance quickly shattered by the large, dumb grin on your face. “Hey, would you still love me if I broke all my limbs but had a massive bank account?”

“I’d rather buy you McDonald’s for the rest of your life than see you in pain,” he answers simply, patting you gently on the head. “Though I suppose helping you inject thousands of calories into your bloodstream would also cause you pain later on in life, but hey, at least you’d go down doing what you love.”

“Oh, yes. Keep talking dirty to me. I love it when you talk about the ways you’d kill me by association.” You laugh, casually looping your arms together as you walk past the slowly growing crowd of aunties and entering the reception hall to find your seats. Almost everyone is already in their seats, with a few guests milling about and greeting one another with tight-lipped smiles and hollow laughter. The sight brings goosebumps up your arm, bringing back terrible memories of having to make niceties with these people despite knowing that they despised you and your less affluent family.

Remember, you’re only here as a representative for your parents, you tell yourself. You’d rather bear the brunt of the thinly-veiled insults than to have your parents have to experience this hell. Besides, you have big plans for today, and they would only be brought to an end if your mother ever found out what you wanted to do in the first place.

“As they say… We’re here for a good time, not a long time, which I suppose is our philosophy for tonight as well,” he quips back. He taps you lightly on the hand, wrenching your gaze away from the magnificent chocolate fountain on the dessert table and back to his somewhat less magnificent face. A straight-up lie, but it is the only defense mechanism you have in your arsenal that can keep you from staring at how gorgeous he looks in his suit and tie like a braindead idiot. Denial, after all, hasn’t failed you during the last five years that you’ve been in love with your own best friend.

“What is it?” you ask, curious when he furtively points out one of your cousins near the front of the hall. “That’s Namjoon. Do you know him?”

“Know is a strong word,” Seokjin hums, winking at your cousin when he happens to turn towards the two of you. Namjoon’s eyes light up when he sees him, but his excitement immediately vanishes when he notices who Seokjin has beside him on his right arm. You could see the mental cogs going on inside Namjoon’s head as he stares at the two of you, but you don’t get to see him reach a conclusion before Seokjin is pulling you away, walking in the opposite direction.

“Seokjin? What was that all about?” you ask, though you have to admit you’re kind of afraid to know the answer to your own question. As much as everything about tonight’s scheme had been your idea, you can’t help but think that Seokjin’s intense enthusiasm to help you isn’t merely out of his own desire to help you as a friend, but rather due to his innate calling to cause chaos wherever he goes.

“I have a secret bonus surprise for the bride and groom once we get kicked out from this joint after we do our thing,” he says. “And, dare I say, it’ll be quite a treat for all the guests here.” The smirk on his lips is downright heinous, only exacerbating the frantic racing of your heart. There must be something wrong with you, not with how badly you want to do unspeakable atrocities to him and his evil-looking ass. Or perhaps he was simply put down on Earth to test your slowly fraying sanity.

He snaps you out of your dumbfounded, horny stupor when he continues, “If everything goes according to plan, then we’ll truly end this night with a bang, no pun intended.”

“What was even the pun there?” You raise a brow, slightly disconcerted by the way Seokjin was struggling to keep his laughter (at his own joke) at bay. “You know what? Don’t even answer. I guess I’ll just have to find out later tonight.”

After some pointless meandering while the two of you locate your seats, you are finally able to locate your table, unsurprisingly situated near the farthest corner of the hall where no one would have to see you. You’re honestly more surprised that your newly-wedded cousin had even remembered to give you a seat, though you suppose that it must have been at the behest of your uncle. While your devil of a cousin has always been rude and cruel to you, you have to admit that at least her father knew some manners, though that only begs the question as to what happened to his daughter along the way. Genetics and expensive etiquette classes can only help so much, you suppose.

“Thank you again for doing this with me. You really didn’t need to,” you say when you take a seat, nearly elbowing him in the process. Your chairs are wedged right beside the emergency exit and a grotesque ice sculpture of the bride and groom, forcing the two of you to sit so close that you could feel Seokjin breathe directly into your ear. If you shifted just slightly to the right, you’d basically be sitting on his lap (which is a prospect that intrigues you greatly, but you refrain from voicing it in fear of creeping him out… for now).

“How could I ever resist the offer to ruin your cousin’s wedding? This has been on my bucket list for years,” he winks cheekily at you. “Besides, you’re my dearest friend, Y/N. You could ask me to fight a bear naked, and I’d gladly let it eat my dick in one chomp!”

“I wouldn’t let a bear eat your dick,” you say kindly, patting him gently on the back. “You can’t afford to lose an inch when you only have two to offer.”

Before you could laugh hysterically at Seokjin’s howls of betrayal, your attention is pulled away when the soft violin music stops playing abruptly. From far away, it’s hard to tell what’s going on until you notice a bright light reflecting off of the sea of attendees, the balding head of the reception’s host bobbing up and down as he makes his way to the front of the hall.

“Attention esteemed guests! We will now begin serving dinner shortly. Please remain in your seats as our waiters attend to you.” The host speaks into a crackly microphone just as a few scraggly-looking underpaid teenagers in black dress shirts come out with the first course of the night.

Seokjin cranes his neck, trying to see what the food is. “What the hell is that? Why does it look like green shit in a bowl?” he murmurs, loud enough so that only you can hear. “I didn’t know your cousin was a Dr. Seuss fan. Are we being served green eggs and ham?” Before you can guess, you watch as his nose crinkles in disgust, a vile stench making its way to your area even though none of the waiters were even close to your table. “Oh my goodness, is that stench what we’re supposed to eat?”

“Smells like a barnyard,” you comment, though you aren’t as surprised as he is by the revolting smell. “Well, my cousin always did like making atrocious vegan recipes on her shitty WordPress blog, so I wouldn’t put it past her if she made up the menu for her own wedding.”

“She’s a vegan and a bully? What are the odds,” he says drily, cringing when he watches one of the guests begin to dry heave the moment a spoonful of the green stuff enters their mouth. “Christ. I didn’t know I was signing up for a life or death mission.”

“At this rate, I don’t think we’re getting served until the end of the night anyway,” you say, observing as the understaffed employees tried their best to get to every table while insufferable aunts did their worst to hinder their progress by nagging and complaining. Why were they so adamant about eating the food anyway? Were they itching to get diarrhea on a Saturday night? You do admit that it would probably be better, so then at least you’d have an excuse to leave earlier. “Though I suppose... Do you think eating the mystery goo while it’s cold would be better or worse?”

“It’s okay, I’ll treat you to McDonald’s when we finish up here,” he says, smiling sweetly at you. Never in your life has the mention of greasy fries and chicken nuggies made your heart race faster than it did at that moment, but then again, it could also be your high-blood pressure kicking up. Either way, you can’t ignore the way your face heats up at his offer, now more excited than ever for the reception to be over.

You and Seokjin chat as you wait for everyone around you to finish eating, not even bothered when the waiters forget to bring your food. You’re in the middle of debating the pros and cons of cock and ball torture when large dark shadows loom over both your heads, much like a solar eclipse. A cold shiver runs up your spine when you look up to find the reptilian faces of your aunts, the fumes of their designer perfume creating a cloud so noxious that you could feel your lungs shrivel into prunes.

“Hello, Y/N. It’s nice to see you after such a long time,” your Aunt Sohee greets, her tone indicating that there was nothing pleasant about seeing you at all. Your aunt, who had gotten so much botox done that she was reminiscent of a plastic balloon ready to pop, has her entourage of fellow aunties behind her, all of whom looked ridiculous in their fake designer dresses. You swear you can see that one of them had forgotten to snip off the Made in China tag before wearing it to the wedding.

“Aunt Sohee, you’re looking… young,” you say after a moment, deciding to settle on lying for now. Even though your main plan for this evening is to create chaos at your cousin’s wedding, your one condition is that you wouldn’t cause a scene with your aunts. While you are hardly in the running for favorite niece, there is still a 1% chance that you could get some inheritance from them once they hit the grave, so you’ll have to grit your teeth and bear the incoming barrage of personal questions coming your way lest you lose out in the long run.

“Why, thank you. I can’t say the same for you,” she huffs, shamelessly grabbing my cheeks and squishing them like stress balls. She peers sourly at your disfigured face, trying to squint judgmentally at you but failing due to her horrendous plastic surgery. “How old are you? Why do you have so many wrinkles?”

You feel your eyebrow twitch involuntarily, unable to respond even if you wanted due to the gorilla-hold she has on your face. You side-eye Seokjin, who is looking back at you with a blank and calm expression. You had already told him beforehand that you wouldn’t be arguing with your aunts, but that doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to be an asshole.

Being an asshole, after all, is Seokjin’s favorite pastime.

“Hello, Aunties. My name is Kim Seokjin, and I’m Y/N’s long-term boyfriend. She’s told me many good things about you,” he says with a polite smile, his hamster cheeks puffing up in that adorably boyish way. The surrounding aunties all begin to coo at his handsome face (unfair!), but they’re quickly silenced by a sharp glare from your Aunt Sohee. She appraises him, giving him a once over with a pursed lip.

“Long-term boyfriend, huh? Are you sure you aren’t paying her or something? Y/N hasn’t had a boyfriend in years. Her cousins have told me that she’s been too busy with other… extracurricular activities to bother sticking around,” your aunt says snidely, her sneer deepening. She lets go of your face, crossing her arms when she spies the expensive watch on his wrist. “Ah, I see that you’re well-off. I just can’t possibly see why else you’d be staying with her if not for other reasons.”

You can feel your blood pressure rising, the veins on your forehead undoubtedly bulging as you try to suppress your rage. Screw your cousin for spreading a rumor that you’re a whore! It’s as if you were the one sucking guys off in the locker rooms when the two of you were in the second year of high school and not her. You haven’t even had your first proper kiss, for heaven’s sake!

Instead of getting angry, Seokjin’s expression hardly changes at all. His serene smile is still plastered on his face, but only you can tell that he’s even remotely bothered by their rude remarks. You can feel the air around him turn frosty, but your oblivious aunties are still too busy tittering amongst themselves, exchanging insults at your expense.

“Oh, are we that obvious?” Seokjin tilts his head, feigning innocence. Your head jerks towards him, your eyes bugging out of their sockets. What the fuck? “You are so right, Auntie Sohee. I’m sure Y/N must have informed you about our predicament. You see, we’ve—”

“Your predicament?” Aunt Sohee scoffs, interrupting Seokjin mid-speech. “I can’t believe the nerve of this girl, bringing her little boy-toy to the holy matrimony of her cousin—”

“—been trying to produce an heir to the Kim Line for months now,” Seokjin sighs heavily, looking off into the distance with glazed, dreamy eyes. You nearly cough out a lung at his sudden proclamation, about to interject and ask him what on earth he was talking about. Your words die on your tongue, however, when he grips your hand tightly underneath the table. He taps three times on the back of your hand: an old sign that you both made back in high school whenever he was busy bullshitting his way out of trouble.

Luckily, none of your aunts notice your blunder, all of them too occupied trying to wrap their heads around what Seokjin had said. Multiple mouths drop open in surprise and disbelief, including your Aunt Sohee. Her penciled eyebrows arch comically high, her smoothened forehead wrinkling infinitesimally (a feat in itself, for you were sure she had long since lost any ability to move the skin on her face.)

“I beg your pardon?” she whispers, staring daggers at Seokjin.

Then beg, you think to yourself. Judging by the way the corners of Seokjin’s lips lift slightly, you have a strong feeling that he was thinking the same thing to himself. Instead, he says, “Yes, Aunt Sohee. You see, I come from a long line of businessmen. Ever heard of Kim Enterprises.”

Her face turns pale. “You mean… the Kim Enterprises? The one that owns—”

“South Korea’s largest chain of department stores? I’m flattered that you’re familiar,” he winks. He leans forward, gesturing for your aunts to come closer, like he’s imparting state secrets to them. “My older brother, who has been married for quite some time, has chosen to remain childless at the behest of his wife. For that reason, my father put me up to the task of producing an heir for the company.”

“An heir?” your aunt repeats, dumbfounded.

Seokjin nods, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, it’s quite unfortunate, but it’s a responsibility I’m willing to take. My family is notorious for planning our lives, even for the next 50 years, so I am forever grateful to have Y/N who is willing to bring me multiple potential heirs to my family.”

“Multiple heirs?” Your aunts shriek in unison, causing a few nearby guests to look over at your table in curiosity. You wave at them awkwardly in apology, hoping to get them to ignore the absolute clusterfuck happening right in front of you.

You feel Seokjin kick you gently in the shin, urging you to say something as well. You clear your throat, channeling all the pent-up Seokjin energy that you had indirectly absorbed over the years of being his friend. “That’s right… My Jinnie has always been so lonely, living in his gigantic mansion with his piles of money. He may have never felt the loving touch of his father, but I’m certain that we’ll be great parents to our children. Why, we’re almost like a pair of rabbits when it comes to—”

Aunt Sohee clears her throat abruptly, a deep flush coloring her cheeks as she glares daggers at you. She looks absolutely peeved, and it takes all your mental fortitude to restrain yourself from jumping up in triumph. Take that, wench!

“I have to admit that this is somewhat… unexpected,” your aunt says carefully, pointing a tight smile at Seokjin. He beams back, positively delighted.

“Y/N is quite the catch. I’m grateful to have her in my life,” he says, his tone growing soft by the end. He looks at you then, and you find a mysterious emotion floating in his eyes that you can’t quite name. When you blink and try to get a closer look, his careful façade is back in place.

Eventually, your aunts lose interest in you once they realize they can no longer bully you, not when you had an incredibly rich boyfriend to back you up. “Must be nice being a rich boy, huh?” you snicker, teasing the blushing boy beside you. Thanks to his hair growing longer than usual, the tips of his ears are miraculously hidden away. When you brush his hair back, they are as red as a baboon’s ass.

“Oh, shut up. You know I hate flaunting my dad’s money,” he whines, pouting cutely. He fingers the watch on his wrist, staring at it uncomfortably. “This isn’t even my watch. I had to borrow one from my brother.”

“Well, you did it for me, so I suppose it’s not all bad,” you laugh, pinching his cheek lightly. “Plus, it was funny watching my aunts shut up for once. They’re just mad that you’re richer than the groom.”

“Really? What does he do?”

“He’s an entrepreneur.” You snort, emphasizing the word with air quotations. “Honestly, he just calls himself that while he waits for his self-made business to pop off or whatever. No such luck so far, if what I heard was right.”

“Lucky for you, you’re stuck with my devastatingly handsome face and stinkin’ rich bank account,” he jokes, contorting his face into a funny expression until you’re left snorting at his antics. Little does he know, you still would’ve l***d him even if he wasn’t any of those things, but that’d be too cringey to say. What are you, some sort of romantic lead protagonist?

It takes a little bit over an hour for dessert to start getting served, by which point the bride and groom decide to make their rounds to greet the guests. “Don’t you think this is the perfect time to put our plan into motion? The dance floor is open and we should be able to make it to the center without anyone noticing,” he whispers, his breath tickling your neck.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you say, but just as you’re about to get up from your seat, a flurry of white blocks your path in an instant. You startle slightly, falling back to your chair and hitting Seokjin in the chest with a soft grunt. “Shit, sorry about that Seokjin—”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my dear cousin,” a voice cuts you off, the disdain in their voice dripping like acid down your ear canals. Your blood freezes instinctively, years of past trauma crashing down on you as your childhood bully stands just inches away from you, her blood-red lips stretched into a broad smirk.

“Kairi,” you greet.

“Y/N,” she responds.

“Seokjin!” Seokjin adds helpfully.

Your cousin turns to him slowly. “Quite right,” she hisses, eyebrows pinched together in thinly-veiled annoyance. “I’ve heard through some whispers that my baby cousin finally managed to snag a rich kid for a boyfriend and I just couldn’t help but let my curiosity drag me over here.” She looks you up and down, snorting at what she sees. “You would think that having a chaebol as a boyfriend would mean you could at least afford a proper dress.”

You glance down at your dress: a hand-me-down from your mother because you couldn’t be bothered to buy a new one, not when you’d rather choke on Satan’s hot fiery balls for all eternity than spend any amount of money just to attend your cousin’s wedding. Despite this, you can’t help your cheeks from heating in embarrassment, an automatic response after years of bullying and torment from that spoiled bitch.

When you don’t reply, Kairi’s smirk widens. “Oh? Cat got your tongue? Sugar daddy couldn’t even be bothered to buy you a dress? While you’re at it, maybe you should ask for a new car too. I’m surprised you even made it here alive in that old metal deathtrap of yours. You’re lucky you were just late to the reception instead of dead on the street.”

You can sense Seokjin staring at you from your right. Your fists are clenched tightly on your skirt, your nails nearly tearing the fabric in your searing rage. Slowly, carefully, Seokjin slips his hands underneath yours—he pries your death grip open until he can lace his fingers in between yours. At once, your anger melts at his tender gesture, your focus pulled away from your cousin and back to him. He thumbs the back of your hand, as if assuring you that he’d handle this himself.

He smiles at Kairi, not a single ounce of kindness in his eyes. “Yes, indeed. It is my mistake entirely for not ordering a dress much sooner. Y/N is so incredibly humble; she’d rather wear a vintage outfit than wear one of those paper-thin dresses from YesStyle that you and your bridesmaids seem to favor,” he sighs, pretending to be pained.

“Paper-thin? YESSTYLE?” Kairi screeches, her voice breaking the sound barrier. You watch in fascination as her skin turns an unflattering ruddy shade.

Unperturbed by her murderous aura, Seokjin prattles on. “Quite right,” he mocks her with her own words, smirking ever so slightly. “Though, I must apologize for being late to the reception. That was my fault as well. My father had a general meeting this morning for all the employees at the company, as he had wanted to announce that I would be the Vice President starting next Monday. We tried to leave sooner, but everyone had been too busy congratulating us,” he apologizes, though not apologetic in the slightest.

Your cousin could cosplay as a walking crack pipe with how much steam was puffing out of her ears. She’s livid, so much so that her fury was preventing her from formulating any sort of comeback. “You—how dare you—I swear on my—” she stutters incomprehensibly, her vulture-like nails tearing her dainty paper-thin skirt into shreds.

Just as she looks about ready to blow, her father comes around to your table. He places a hand delicately on his daughter’s shoulder, immediately understanding the situation when he sees you. “Kairi, I think it’s time for you to greet the rest of the guests. Uncle Iverson said he has a gift for you that simply cannot wait,” he says, doing his best to appease you. He gives you a genuinely regretful look; you shake your head, waving off his concern.

“It was nice seeing you, Kairi. I hope you and your husband will have a wonderful year together,” you say. You gasp exaggeratedly, holding a hand to your heart. “Oh, sorry. I meant to say I hope you have wonderful years together. Pardon my mistake.”

Before the scant amount of brain cells in your cousin’s brain could process your words, her father pulls her away, dragging her to the next table over. Once they’re out of earshot, you heave a sigh of relief. Beside you, Seokjin lets out a laugh that he had been undoubtedly holding in the past few minutes, sounding like a fish gasping for air with how much he is shaking with mirth.

“Fuck, that was hilarious. Did you see how angry she got? Beautiful,” he says, wiping away a stray tear. “Love that for us!”

“Damn. I knew you were good at bullshitting, but even your acting skills almost convinced me,” you whistle lowly, impressed. “You sure you’re not a con-artist in disguise?”

“All good businessmen are con-artists, my young padawan,” he snickers, winking at you. He shrugs. “You get used to dealing with assholes like her when you attend enough rich people parties. Besides, all good lies are rooted in the truth, after all. That’s what my father taught me when I was seven.”

“You must have been a terrible child, then.” You laugh, before realizing what he had just said. “Wait. Rooted in the truth? What does that mean?”

“Oh. Well,” he clears his throat, giggling nervously. He rubs his neck, embarrassed. “I am the vice president of dad’s company now. I just lied about the meeting being this morning. He announced it a day ago or something. Not that it’s a big deal or anything…”

You gawk at him, speechless. Not for the first time in your life, you are once again stunned by the absurdity of the man before you. How did men like him exist outside of cheesy k-dramas? He’s handsome, rich, funny, AND well-mannered? It’s almost like some love-crazed author had penned him into existence for their entertainment.

Seokjin breaks you from your reverie, tapping you thrice on your shoulder. “Shall we go? The dance floor is still empty. It’s now or never.”

You nod excitedly, standing up to head towards the center of the hall. This time, there is no one stopping you as the two of you make your way towards your destination. The lights near the dancefloor are still dimly lit, as most of the lighting is currently focused on the guests as the bride and groom make their rounds to greet everyone. Even if Seokjin got onto his knees right now, only a few people nearby would notice, so you’d have to do something to catch people’s attention.

“This is going to be moderately to highly embarrassing for a few moments, but I think that’s the atmosphere we’re going for, isn’t it?” Seokjin whispers, his mouth embarrassingly close to yours as he holds you gently by the waist. There isn’t a need for him to stand so close to you, but you have to admit his presence is mostly calming—minus the fact that he’s been your crush for five years and he’s going to be fulfilling one of your deepest fantasies in front of your entire extended family. No biggie.

“I suppose so. What are you gonna do to get their attention?” you ask, palms beginning to sweat. Despite this, Seokjin still takes your hands into his own, a small smile on his lips.

“Just watch,” he whispers, before slowly getting down on one knee.

Ba-dump. Here we fucking go.

“My dearest Y/N… The apple of my eye, the straw to my berry, the con to my dom,” Seokjin says, projecting his voice so that it can be heard even above the music. One of the violin players is even startled long enough to stop playing, further causing more heads to turn in their direction. You hear a gasp coming from your left, but you force yourself not to look. Instead, you stare right back into Seokjin’s sweet brown eyes, your heart beating a mile a minute.

This isn’t real… This is just a prank, bro. Get over yourself, you hiss internally, but your heart refuses to listen.

“You’ve been in my life for almost half a decade, and not a day goes by wherein I don’t wonder what it would be like to live the rest of my days with you. In many ways, I wouldn’t be the person I am if it hadn’t been for your presence in my life,” he says. If you look deeper into his eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking that they looked wetter than they had just a moment ago.

“Y/N, you are the person I’ve loved for years now. I used to think you didn’t like me as much as I liked you, so I was always scared to pop the question. I had many opportunities to ask, but I suppose tonight just felt like the right moment. I was afraid that if I didn’t do it now, I might never get the chance to ask again, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you slip away out of cowardice.”

For some reason, his words seem almost too real, like he was speaking the truth. You have never doubted his acting skills, but would you be willing to wonder if there was even a small possibility that there was some truth to his tale? You swallow thickly, the need to ask just dangling on the tip of your tongue.

He rifles through his jacket pocket, procuring a small velvet box. He thumbs it almost reverently, his hands shaking slightly, but you can blame that on the nerves from hundreds of people watching you. He takes a deep breath, opening the box with a soft click. “My dearest Y/N… Would you give me the honor of spending the rest of my days with you?”

You feel your breath get knocked out of you in an instant, the genuine adoration in his eyes too much for you to handle. You stammer slightly, too busy staring at him to properly register the loud claps, screams, and hollers all around you. “I… Seokjin… This is…”

“MAKE THEM STOP! SOMEONE KICK THEM OUT RIGHT NOW!” You dimly hear your cousin screaming obscenities somewhere, but you are still too caught up in the moment to care. The world only consists of you and Seokjin—nothing else matters right now.

When you look down at the box in his hands, fully expecting to see a comically large ring pop nestled in its cushions, but instead you find—

You gasp, nearly doubling over in surprise. “Oh my god, Seokjin. Is that a real fucking diamond ring?!”

He shrugs, smiling wryly. “Only the best rocks for the girl who rocks my socks off every night,” he jokes, but his nervousness is palpable. He’s sweating, a drop trailing down the side of his face despite the strong air conditioning.

Oh shit. It hits you right then that his proposal is real. The damned idiot is fucking proposing to you in front of your most hated family members, and he’s proposing to you for real.

“Kim Seokjin, please fucking explain yourself—”

But before he can have the chance to open his mouth, you feel rough hands grab you by the shoulders, pulling you away from him. “I’m sorry I have to do this, ma’am. Bride’s orders,” one of the waiters says, awkwardly escorting you to the exit. When you turn back, you see another waiter pulling Seokjin away as well, the box with the ring still clutched tightly in his hand.

The two waiters deposit you outside the hall, bowing stiffly before heading back into the room. You’re still breathing heavily, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Seokjin isn’t any better, bent over with his hands on his knees. From your vantage point, you can see how red his entire neck is, his blush reaching even past the collar of his shirt.

“Seokjin…” you trail off, unable to say another word. You’re completely flabbergasted, elated, annoyed, and mostly just mind-fucked because when on earth did Kim Seokjin ever have a crush on you?!

“I’m sorry. That must have been quite a shock,” he coughs out a laugh. He rubs his face, embarrassment rolling off of him in waves. “I just… It was sort of a last-minute decision I made. I’ve been into you for years now, and I know I’m kinda putting you on the spot by proposing like that, but I knew if I didn’t do anything soon, you might just slip away before I can say anything.”

“Wait. So are you really�� proposing to me?” You squeak out the last bit, your face mirroring his reddened state.

“No!” He shouts suddenly, before covering his mouth with his palm. “S-sorry, what I mean to say is, it wasn’t really a marriage proposal. It was more like… just a general proposal? I do want to live with you forever, but I know that thought must be daunting and—oh god, I don’t even know if you like me like that, so this must be incredibly weird and out of line. Please excuse me while I shove a cactus up my ass—”

“Seokjin,” you interrupt, silencing his rambling. He clamps his mouth shut. “Are you… asking me out?”

He nods his head. “Yeah…”

“And what you said is true? You actually like me?”

“No, you don’t understand. I love you,” he says, before getting shy again. He looks down at the ring box. “Fuck. This isn’t a real engagement ring, by the way. It’s more like a promise ring, so you don’t have to feel bad for rejecting me.”

“Oh my god, I’m in love with an idiot,” you groan, pulling him into a hug. You nestle into his chest, giggling hysterically into his shirt. “I fucking hate you.”

“Wait, I’m getting mixed signals over here,” Seokjin says, gasping when he feels how tightly you embrace him. He doesn’t complain, however. He returns the gesture in kind, nuzzling deep into your neck. “So, does that mean the feeling is mutual?”

“Yes, you idiot. Now give me my ring.”

“My pleasure, princess.” He laughs, drawing away slightly so that he can slip the ring on your finger. The diamond shines brightly under the fluorescent lights, but nothing brings you more joy than having the boy you love in your arms.

As the two of you are sharing a sweet moment, it takes a second for you to realize that the commotion from inside the venue still hasn’t stopped. When you crane your heads, you spot one of the doors had been left ajar, allowing you to slip your heads through the crack just in time to see Seokjin’s beautiful bare ass being projected onto a large screen.

The musical notes of Rick Astley’s most popular song play loudly on the speakers, drowning out the sounds of the bride screaming bloody murder as the IT people tried their best to sort out the mess. The Seokjin on the screen slaps his ass in time with the tune, his glorious moon-shaped globes shaking mesmerizingly for all to see.

When you look to Seokjin for an explanation, he merely shrugs his shoulders. “They really should do background checks on the people they hire for these things. Taking that one video editing course in university really does pay off, huh?”

“Sure does,” you grin, linking your arms together. “Now let’s get some fucking McDonalds.”

And so, you lived happily ever after—the end.

[lunarkreatures]

So did this a while ago, did everything by hand cause i didn't know i could download templates from storytellers vault. I wanted to do a fake cover just to test out CSP. 

So the idea of it is something like the rage across books from werewolf the apocalypse that are supplements for many places in the world. rage across worlds would be completely different scenarios and worlds for werewolf the reclaimed that would basically be a tweaked version of forsaken that I am working on. 

That aside I even wrote a full story that would be the introduction to the scenario of the red pyramid. you can read it after the read more.

The chronicles of the red pyramid

This is a tale from the old times, ages ago. A time when the red pyramid, the palace of the god king wasn't the nest of horror it is today, it's red shine would invoke adoration not fear. People would look at it's red light and feel safe, protected, but people sleep turned away from it's light, it's said that just sleeping looking at it is enough to give nightmares, or even invite the dark presence to from that place come after you. 

There are many variations of this tale, many different interpretations, though the true story only the cursed heir and the warriors who decided to commit the first act against the gods know the truth. And I will tell you a tale, that you probably heard before...

The first slaying took place during the night, under the watchful eyes of the two moons, inside the red pyramid. Right after dinner, people tell stories of how the heir to the throne and her warriors just suddenly started attacking the soldiers in the castle one by one. Until it was only them and the king, the attack inside the castle was sudden, brutal, the hallways inside the red pyramid are still red to this day from the bloodshed. The bodies of the guards completely torn apart in pieces, the work of a true beast. 

The savage warriors and their leader arrived at the top of the pyramid, the throne room, where the king awaited. The king pleaded to his child to stop this madness but the heir didn’t hesitate, she raised her blade stabbing the king, her warriors watched everything happen, all quiet. 

The king fell unmoving on the floor, blood pooling around the unmoving body, the scene illuminated by the lights inside the chamber and the moons covered by the clouds. The heir however, was not satisfied with the death of the king, her blade went down one more time, this time cutting off his head, blood came out of the severed head, pooling around it.

She raised her blade towards the moons in victory. At that time the clouds stopped blocking the moons view. You know, many say that the small red moon was actually the previous queen's ascended form. Some say she is the direct daughter of the nameless god, the huge moon in the sky, and she was granted a flesh body to protect us from the spirits and once her duty was done she went back to the sky, others say she was mortal and due to a great sacrifice she ascended. Though that's not important for our tale, what is important is what happened when the clouds covering the red moon cleared. The light shone into the chamber, filling it with a red ominous glow. 

Many things happened in seconds, the direct rays of moonlight changed all those in the room. It's said the moon went mad from the scene she witnessed, and cursed her child to take a bestial form. The heir, once a proud warrior, became a monster. Her loyal knights were also punished becoming animals. The dead king, it is said that the moon tried to bring her lover to life but something went wrong, something that was never alive was born out of this, a paradox itself. Something not made of flesh and yet it bled, could pass through walls and yet it was solid, was not of its world, and yet, it merged with it. 

The now monstrous heir fought that, made it bleed and  tried to kill that once again. The warriors also fought and suddenly the presence vanished along with the king’s severed head. When the guards arrived they saw the animal knights and the heir, and the dead king body. They prepared to attack but the animals vanished, the heir escaped through the window and to this day roams the land, cursing others to its same fate.

The red moon went mad from grief, cursing all who she felt deserved to be punished with the same curse she did to her child. Since then weird creatures roam the land, not the cursed, but incorporeal beings, abominations of flesh that hunt anything alive that they can find, twist the world around to grotesque things. It is said this is all the work of the cursed heir and her minions so tell me are you ready to spread the horror in the world and feast upon your loved ones? 

...Uhm? What is with that face? HAHAHAHA I am joking with you, you feel deep down that this story is not true, right? Well that's the story many believe, but there is another version, like i said many versions. But because of this story we are monsters, the culprits of what has happened to the world, we are the cursed. We are always being hunted, and yet we are hunters of our own, we have a purpose.

You see, let me tell the other side of this story. First the heir we don't even know if she was cursed in the first place, just that she exists and almost seems to avoid us...i don't know why. Where i come from we refer to the heir as the moon’s daughter but others refer to her through other names. 

And what could have caused her to do what she did? It is said that the king made the unthinkable, he opened a gateway between our world and another place, a place that is the reflection of our own, where the abominations live. He was able to break the protection the gods put in place, they sacrificed being able to talk to us to protect us from the creatures that come from the shadow, in many places the barrier between these worlds is weakening and things are changing. However it's not just monsters that live in the shadow the gods envoys usually talk to us and help us, teaching us the power of gods. 

They say the heir to this day regrets what she had done, but there was no other way, the king was not himself anymore, he died long ago and something else was in its place, it said when she served his head, a black liquid oozed from it, taking form and shape ready to escape, the heir then pleaded the moon for power to fulfill her destiny, to give her a weapon capable of killing whatever that was that was when she changed, her blade merging with her, claws and fangs getting the power to slay even a god. And she attacked, giving a permanent injury on that thing that to this day bleeds, but was not able to kill it … heartbroken from what she had to do and feeling the pressure of her failure she ran away. Her loyal knights understanding her pain ran after the dark presence to not lose track of it.

That was when the moon trying to help her daughter kept a watchful eye one those she deemed worthy of helping, that's where we come in. We are blessed by the moon with a cursed responsibility. We need to hunt the creatures that cross to our world, kill the root of all evil, and restore the barrier. Only then we will be free of this curse, or so legends say. I hope you understand this, the moon chose us to be the protectors of our world, the fierce hunters of the shadow, some deny the hunter nature and their duty, and pay a high price by denying that, I hope you are different from the fools I met before.

What is this?

The umbra, the spirit world, a reflection to the world shuddered in darkness that we know. Still even to those who enter the umbra it's a complete alien place where things might or might not make sense, many planes and pocket dimensions, who can say that it's just the world we know that has a reflection there? 

Rage across worlds is a collection of scenarios about other worlds, sometimes worlds similar to what we know and others completely different. However The primal fear, the beast, the hunter, the warrior is a reflection in many words, each have their own version of a werewolf. The umbra is a nexus to many worlds, with many stories to tell. 

The chronicles of the red pyramid is a scenario of a different world where gods are much more closer to the world of flesh, where gods are much more flesh than spirit, where normal mortals can ascend to godhood. Where the werewolves were cursed into existence to roam between two worlds never belonging to any. The chronicles tell the tales of what happened, the current state and ways to break the curse.

[writeyouin]

ITS QUANTUM ANON BACK FOR MORE....I'd love to see a scenario in which Jack and the reader have a scary movie night and the reader can barely handle it, the damn movies are incredibly scary and she gets clingy when she's scared. Jack is very amused. (sounds cliché but it's me when I watch scary movies ok) Scared cuddles and dog videos of calming ensue. (also if you could please put in a tag somewhere or a little quick post saying you got this n tumblr didn't eat it that would be appreciated

Jack Joyce X Reader – Hold Me

A/N – I will never in my life apologise for making Will a meme-loving fuck. I have a big sister, so I know exactly how to be a younger pain in the ass.

Warnings – None

Rating – T

Life as you knew it had been completely changed since the incident between the Joyce brothers and Paul Serene. Although Monarch Solutions wasn’t as big of a threat as it had been before, Jack and Will still worried about what remained of it. You knew they were also concerned about the threat it posed to Will’s research, and more importantly, to you because of your affiliation with the brothers; maybe if you and Jack weren’t romantically involved, there wouldn’t be a problem, but that wasn’t the case.

Since the brothers needed to protect what remained of Will’s research, in case Monarch got any shifty ideas again, the pair moved into the old community pool building. It wasn’t long after that that Jack asked you to move in with them. Although you would have rather continued your regular life in your previous apartment, you knew it would tear Jack apart to have to watch over Will’s research and you; to spare him any worry, you agreed to stay with the pair.

To be fair, life wasn’t so bad in the dilapidated pool building. Will and Jack respected your boundaries, and even turned one of the old changing rooms into your own personal bedroom; it didn’t go unnoticed by you how much prettier your room was than their shared one which had previously housed Beth Wilder. Every little thing the pair did for you made you love them all the more, Jack romantically, and Will as a little brother.

Despite their efforts however, it was still hard for you to think of the old building as a home instead of a hide-out. You knew you were bad at hiding your emotions, but you hoped that neither of the pair would notice quite how much you missed living a normal life. Jack of course, noticed everything where you were concerned, and that brought you to your current predicament. With Halloween coming up, Jack thought he could bring the holiday to you, since he didn’t dare take you to it; with so many costumes and chaos, it would be all too easy for Monarch to pull some kind of dirty trick he couldn’t protect you from. As such, he’d just offered you a date night, filled with all kinds of the grotesque horror films he loved so much.

He was being sweet. You knew he was, and yet you wished he would stop it and return to being his usual sardonic self; whenever he was overly sweet, you knew it was because he was worried about you and didn’t want you to catch on.

“What do you say?” Jack asked, drawing you out of your reverie.

He looked so apologetically awkward that you had to smile. How could he so suddenly switch from the slick smart-talker you knew so well to someone as insecure as Will? When Jack was being this sincere, you knew you didn’t have the heart to say no to him. Yet, you also wanted him to think you were braver than you felt, which would never happen if he saw how you were during horror films. In all the years of your friendship, you had always managed to avoid the film genre Jack loved so much, claiming horror films were far too overrated, when really you were just too scared to watch them.

Now, in the relationship you had craved for so long, Jack appeared almost bashful in offering to share this piece of himself with you.

“You know what,” Jack said at your lack of a response, “You’re probably right. Horrors are overrated anyway. We don’t have to-”

“I’d love to,” You blurted, sparing Jack any hurt feelings.

His face lit up brighter than any Jack-o-lantern ever could, evidently proud at having cheered you up. “Yeah? I’ll get the movies and meet you at the projector. It’ll be just you, me, and good ol’ Charles ‘Chucky’ Monroe.”

“Great,” You grinned, then once Jack was out of earshot, “Just perfect.”

You sat rigidly on one end of the two-seater sofa while Jack set up an old film projector so it would play the movies on the entire wall the two of you faced, like a cinema would.

“So, which do you want to start with?” He asked distractedly.

“There’s just so much choice,” You answered mechanically.

“I know, isn’t it great? How about the Grudge, or maybe Saw? I bet you can find a few things in Saw that Will would probably invent himself, if he could. God knows he hates people enough to want to torture them.”

Neither choice really appealed to you, but you didn’t want to spend the next month imagining Will as a murderous sociopath, so you opted for the Grudge, whatever that was.

Not even twenty minutes into the film and you were already terrified by the evil ghost creature that haunted the screen, or in your case the wall. Every so often you would subconsciously reach out for Jack, then snap your hand back, afraid that if you let him hold you, he would feel how badly you were trembling.

You froze at the sound of heavy footsteps, though you quickly realised they were not coming from the speakers in front of you; it had to be Will, returning from the town. He came up the stairs where you and Jack were, lugging a heavy bag of shopping onto the counter behind you.

“What’s going on here?” Will asked, dropping the bag with a thud.

“Horror night,” Jack answered curtly, annoyed by Will’s sudden arrival.

“Huh, cool. The Grudge? Good choice. Not as good as Saw though,” He said a little too wistfully. “Okay, I’m in, scooch over.”

Will forced himself between you and Jack, further cramping the two-seater.

“WILL!” Jack shouted. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

“You’re right,” Will nodded, missing the point that he wasn’t invited. “(Y/N), do you mind? There’s a chair over there small enough for you.”

“HEY! No way. (Y/N) stay, he’s gonna leave now.”

“(Y/N) stay?” Will repeated disgustedly. “(S)he’s not a dog Jack, and why do I have to go anyway? You’re the one that forgot to invite me.”

“I didn’t forget. This is a date you idiot! Get out!”

“IDIOT? At least I’m not an ingrate. You could have told me beforehand.”

“READ THE ROOM!”

“YOU KNOW I CAN’T VIBE CHECK. Then again neither can you, because you didn’t even pick a romantic horror.”

Jack threw up his arms exasperatedly, “What does that even mean?”

“Films like this are all scare. In a horror like The Boy however, there is a romantic subplot. In this essay I will-”

Jack grabbed Will in a headlock, pulling him up and dragging him to the staircase. Will flailed uselessly, trying to hit Jack’s arms. Finally, Jack pushed him away, nearly tripping him down the stairs, “Out, Will!”

Will grumbled as he stomped down the stairs, “I just came out to have a good time, and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

On his way back to you, Jack shook his head disbelievingly, “Sorry (Y/N).”

“It’s alright,” You laughed, glad that the commotion allowed you to miss around ten minutes of the on-screen horror.

“Hey, this is your first time seeing the Grudge, right?”

You nodded.

“Don’t worry then, I’ll go back so you don’t miss anything.”

Dying inside a little bit, you gave Jack a quick thumbs up. As promised, Jack rewound the film, picking up where you’d left off before Will had come back. Although you longed to isolate yourself on one side of the sofa again, Jack held up his arm for you to sit under. You smiled meekly, laying against him, somewhat comforted when his arm wrapped over your side.

You thought the film had been scary before, yet with each passing minute further horrors were introduced, each worse than the last. Jack was glad you couldn’t see his face as he held back gales of laughter at your fear of the film. More often than not, he would look down to find you squeezing your eyes shut, and gripping tightly to his thigh, barely holding back whimpers.

When the film started, he had no idea you were so scared of horrors. The idea you were petrified of a ghost story and too afraid to tell him was hilarious. You had literally survived Monarch’s terror attack by his side, yet somehow the evil work of on-screen fiction was scaring you more than previous real-life encounters.

By the end of the film, you couldn’t even look at the screen anymore. You were clinging onto Jack as if your life depended on it, burying your face against his chest to avoid looking. Finally, it was over, and although you clearly couldn’t handle another film, Jack couldn’t resist poking fun at you.

“A real masterpiece,” He said, stroking your arms. “I mean, did you see the detail when the Grudge tore that woman’s jaw off? Just a quick snap and it was gone.”

You cringed, peeking up at Jack so you didn’t have to reimagine the gore in the madness of your mind.

“And what about the part with the kid in the bathtub? That is some good film making right there. Oh, but listen to me rambling on, what was your favourite part of the film?”

You desperately wanted to continue clinging onto Jack and tell him that the only watchable part of the film was the credits which were slowly rolling onwards. Instead, you mumbled agreement about the torn jaw to shut him up. You reminded yourself how excited he had been to share this with you and managed a weak smile that didn’t reflect what you felt on the inside at all.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Jack grinned, having entirely too much fun. “So, what should we watch next? I’ll even let you choose again.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” You squeaked, your throat going dry.

“You’re right, I could see your excitement there. The clear winner is the Grudge Two.”

You shivered involuntarily. Taking the opportunity to scare you further, Jack leaned forward, blowing lightly against your neck. You screamed, jumping up from the sofa and scratting at your neck frantically. Jack fell about laughing at the sight, having the time of his life.

You couldn’t help tearing up a little bit. You weren’t usually so sensitive, but the film had drained you of any usual resilience. You folded your arms, hugging yourself quietly and as suddenly as he had started, Jack stopped laughing, though he was still smiling when he enveloped you in a strong hug.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know,” You whispered in a small voice.

“Hey, did it really scare you that badly?”

You nodded shakily, reminding Jack of when he was barely a teenager and he’d just seen his first horror film; at the time, he was so scared that he spent an hour throwing up before bed.

He stroked your arms soothingly, resting his head on top of yours. “Would a night of dog videos help?”

“Can we watch Turner and Hooch?” You mumbled.

Jack kissed the top of your head, “Every Halloween from now on.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, come on, we’ll go get Turner and Hooch.”

“And Will?” You asked, risking a smile.

Jack groaned, “Will, really?”

“He really likes Turner and Hooch.”

Jack rolled his eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh, “Fine. Will can come too, but he’s sitting on the floor.”

You giggled, “Okay, sure, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

“I mean it,” he grinned mischievously, picking you up bridal style. “He has to stay on the floor, so I can hug my beautiful partner all night long.”

You pecked Jack’s lips, thankful that he was so understanding, “I love you.”

“Happy Halloween (Y/N).”

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[lifejustgotawkward]

365 Day Movie Challenge (2017) - #391: The Shape of Water (2017) - dir. Guillermo del Toro

(Warning: some spoilers ahead!)

The Shape of Water is a film that pulls me in several directions. It contains themes and storytelling choices that I love immensely, but there are also aspects of the narrative that I believe could have been improved. From the reviews I have read so far, reactions are extremely polarized; moviegoers either worship Shape as a masterpiece beyond reproach or, on the other end of the spectrum, they throw around “D” words like disappointed and disgusted. I want to point out again that I enjoyed Del Toro’s production a lot - I would put it at #9 or 10 in my top ten for 2017, out of the thirty features I have seen so far - so I hope that my criticisms are tempered by my admiration for all that the film gets right, whether technically or ideologically.

All things considered, I’m probably the ideal viewer for The Shape of Water. In the Venn diagram of intersecting genres that the film explores, I’m right in the middle as a lover of romance, science fiction and fantasy, horror, thrillers, period pieces, studies of “the grotesque” and portraits of outsiders who challenge societal expectations of normalcy. I have a ton of respect for Guillermo del Toro’s ambitions as a filmmaker (I definitely dug Hellboy back in the day and I remember getting a kick out of Pacific Rim too) and I applaud his commitment to telling a socially conscious story in which historically marginalized people are our heroes and the clean-cut, stereotypical authority figures are the villains. I also adore Del Toro’s irrepressible cinephilia, which is evident throughout Shape via constant references to the films, actors and genres that have inspired him. In that regard, The Shape of Water is successful just as a celebration of the power that the silver screen has to change our lives.

The story is almost painfully simple: in Baltimore circa 1962, mute janitor Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins) discovers a fantastical new world of love when an Amazonian fish-god (Doug Jones), referred to in the film’s credits as “Amphibian Man,” is brought to the government facility that she cleans at night. Elisa and her best friend at work, Zelda Fuller (Octavia Spencer), are assigned to take care of the Amphibian Man’s private room by high-ranking security official Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon), who brought to the creature to America and, in his words, they “didn’t get to like each other much” during the trip. This much is obvious at the beginning of the film, when we see the aftermath of an attack on Strickland by the captured fish-god, who has bitten off two of Strickland’s fingers.

Elisa quickly forms an attachment to the Amphibian Man, with whom she learns to communicate by teaching him sign language, feeding him hard boiled eggs and playing him Benny Goodman records on a portable hi-fi. (I’m amazed that more critics haven’t noted the connection to Annie Hall’s famous ending monologue about how human beings continue to look for love after failed relationships because we “need the eggs.”) It soon becomes apparent to Elisa that Strickland and his boss, General Hoyt (Nick Searcy), plan on killing the imprisoned creature, so Elisa devises a plan to steal the Amphibian Man from the facility with help from her neighbor, Giles (Richard Jenkins), an older gay man who has worked as an advertising artist but was fired from his job, in part because of his alcoholism but presumably also because of his sexual orientation. Giles and Zelda stand since they are the only two people in Elisa’s life who have bothered to learn ASL. They understand that she is disabled, but she is not “lesser than” in their eyes because they have adapted themselves to the language she uses.

It’s wonderful that Guillermo del Toro gave space to main characters who are a non-speaking woman, a black woman and a gay man, all of whom are over forty years old. Sally Hawkins, Octavia Spencer and Richard Jenkins do beautiful work in the film, particularly Hawkins, who has finally broken through in American cinema thanks to this film. I have been a tremendous fan of Hawkins ever since she starred in Mike Leigh’s Happy-Go-Lucky nine years ago, so it has been glorious to see her shine in Maudie and The Shape of Water this year. She radiates tenderness, humor, curiosity and compassion as Elisa, a performance that absolutely deserves the Best Actress Oscar nomination it will certainly receive next month. Jenkins also gives a remarkable performance as Giles, making his friendship with Elisa plausible and heartwarming. Spencer has less to work with as Zelda since the character often comes across as a collection of cinematic stereotypes (both as a black woman and as a best friend/sidekick), but Spencer elevates the role to something special, occasionally with a mere glance or a roll of her eyes.

More complex and difficult to pin down is the film’s antagonist, Richard Strickland. I almost snorted at the ominous horn sounds that accompanied the character’s entrance in the film, which I suppose many viewers accept as de rigueur since Michael Shannon is synonymous with malefaction on the big and small screens. Some viewers see Strickland as a textbook villain, evil for evil’s sake (is that the inverse of Ars gratia artis?), but I would argue that the character's motivations are explained to a greater extent than those of anyone else in the film. Strickland is the definition of toxic masculinity, a white man who abuses his position of power by mocking, harassing and sadistically torturing the people (and fish-god) he identifies as inferior to him. Strickland strives for the American Dream - the suburban home, the wife and two kids, a brand new Cadillac - but underneath the exterior of perfection is a man who doubts himself. (For my money, one of the funniest moments in the film is the shot of Strickland sitting in his office, solemnly poring over a copy of The Power of Positive Thinking.) It’s not by accident that one of the digits that the Amphibian Man tore off of Strickland was his ring finger, or that this racist man can’t handle the fact that his body rejects fingers whose skin has turned black.

There is also significance in Del Toro’s disparate approaches to sexuality involving Strickland and his wife versus Elisa and the Amphibian Man (or Elisa by herself). Elisa’s desire is never ignored because of her inability to speak; she is a sexual being and her strong connection to that aspect of her life is viewed with delicacy and respect. The film incorporates two brief scenes showing her masturbating as part of a daily routine, but they don’t feel exploitative; Del Toro went out of his way to create intimacy that wasn’t designed for the male gaze. This is why I’m glad that he didn’t go all the way and show Elisa and the Amphibian Man having sex, contrary to the grumblings of many frustrated viewers who feel cheated out of hot fish-on-human action. What little we see of Elisa and her beau’s encounters glows with eroticism because the characters’ most private moments are withheld from us.

In response to other complaints voiced by moviegoers, the sex scene with Strickland and his wife Elaine (Lauren Lee Smith) was disturbing yet necessary. It’s mechanical, heartless and, as it progresses, turns into marital rape. It was one of the moments that seemed to freak out the audience I was in the most, leading the woman sitting directly behind me to loudly say “blecch” when Strickland placed his hand over his wife’s mouth. (Isn’t it interesting how obsessed Strickland is silent women, whether it’s Elaine or Elisa?) Leave it to Guillermo del Toro to make an interspecial romance inviting and arousing, while sex between two humans is the true act of monstrosity.

All this happens, and politics too. Yes, The Shape of Water covers the topics of human/fish-god courtship, sexism, racism, homophobia and American exceptionalism, but the Cold War also plays a big part in the story. The one expert working at the Baltimore facility who cares about the Amphibian Man’s well-being is Dr. Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg), who aids in the creature’s escape. I won’t go into detail about Hoffstetler’s various complicated allegiances, but suffice it to say he comes through as a dedicated scientist and a decent person who recognizes the supreme value of love over country. Del Toro infuses Hoffstetler with a number of fascinating characteristics, even when they’re as seemingly minor as him baking a butter cake in his apartment.

There are a lot of cooks in Shape’s kitchen. With so many compelling characters, plot lines and images, the film is an aesthetic feast for the senses. On the other hand, Del Toro never satisfactorily answers the question of whether the Amphibian Man is an entity of high intelligence. Elisa is smart, funny, creative and resourceful; is her water-bound lover capable of those same feelings and abilities? He is more than the “wild animal” that Giles sees him as - the Amphibian Man’s first face-to-face experience with Giles’ cats ends bloodily, but we later see the fish-god petting the remaining felines sweetly - but I’m not convinced that the Amphibian Man is on Elisa’s level emotionally. Doesn’t it strike anyone as odd that the love song featured in the film’s gorgeous, black-and-white dream sequence, was “You’ll Never Know”? Wasn’t Elisa implying that her lover either didn’t or couldn’t comprehend the depths of her affection?

(Incidentally, that dream sequence, which is modeled on Fred Astaire and Ginger Roger’s “Let’s Face the Music and Dance” scene from the 1936 film Follow the Fleet, is reminiscent of another musical that copied the same number, 1981′s Pennies from Heaven. There, Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters dance and lipsync to Astaire and Rogers; the entire film is a cinephile’s dream, paying homage to old Hollywood while simultaneously maintaining a dark, tragic tone amidst the colorful song-and-dance confections.)

The Shape of Water hurtles towards its finale with intense speed, perhaps too much. The conclusion involves a number of coincidences and a lot of good fortune on Strickland’s part. He’s able to do a bunch of dastardly deeds due to characters who tell him what he needs to know or because he’s lucky enough to have information fall in his lap. The exact nature of the ending is also telegraphed from the beginning (at least that’s what I thought), so if you’re expecting a brilliant revelation regarding one or more characters, your hopes will be dashed. I was touched by the final scene, but I also longed for more of a resolution to the story at large, especially for Giles and Zelda.

Del Toro’s film succeeds thanks to the astonishing acting done by Hawkins, Shannon, Jenkins, Spencer and Stuhlbarg. Doug Jones’s performance can’t be gauged in terms of conventional acting, but his commitment to the role and the way that he physically brought the Amphibian Man to life (along with the services of the film’s makeup/special effects artists) is indeed worthy of praise. Visually, the cinematography, sets and costumes are stunning, while the score by Alexandre Desplat and the song selections (including a Madeleine Peyroux cover of one of my favorite Serge Gainsbourg tunes, “La Javanaise”) are charming. Despite the weaknesses, The Shape of Water is a beautiful film that encourages love, diversity and the importance of taking risks. In today’s political climate, we could all benefit from more of those attributes.

[chmcdo]

The 15 Best Horror Movies of 2017

The best horror movies of 2017 writhe in grief and mourning: Evil is mundane, they say—sure—but what does that actually mean about moving on with one’s life? In two of these films, the grief-stricken struggle to communicate with those they’ve lost, realizing the process of doing so is difficult, an incredibly tedious series of motions (much like one’s everyday life) in which we’re never really sure they’re succeeding, or just feeding their own serious neuroses, plunging them deeper into depression. One film is a musical reveling in the harshness of young love, in the terrifying lengths to which someone, women especially, are expected to go to be loved. One is the highest grossing horror film of all time, and another is a genre-transcending treatise on America’s treacherous post-Obama racial landscape, both changing the industry for low-budget genre films immeasurably. Even M. Night Shyamalan’s pulpy thriller ends on a surprisingly bleak note. In 2017, we’re just trying to find some way out of all of our most pessimistic impulses. We’re just trying to not wake up every day and assume the worst.

In other words, it was a fertile year for horror, America’s most vital form of filmmaking, especially for non-white, non-male voices laying waste to the genre’s most tired tropes. A number of titles almost made our list, worth mentioning: The Blackcoat’s Daughter, a film awe-struck with despair for humanity and a mind-bogglingly great performance from Kiernan Shipka; The Girl with All the Gifts; We Are the Flesh; Alien: Covenant, proving that the older Ridley Scott gets the grosser he’s willing to be; Happy Death Day; one of many good Stephen King adaptations this year (see below), Gerald’s Game; and The Killing of a Sacred Deer, which isn’t a horror movie but kind of works like one, and anyway it’s fine because you’ll see it on other lists elsewhere.

Here are the 15 best horror movies of 2017:

15. A Cure for Wellness Director: Gore Verbinski It’s a bit of a tragedy that Gore Verbinski’s delightfully bizarre, absurdly violent and grotesque A Cure For Wellness went largely unnoticed. Hollywood’s versatile trickster, Verbinski and screenwriter Justin Haythe go for broke cramming various sub-genres and mood-drenched tropes into an overstuffed, batshit-crazy horror epic, a loving nod to old Universal monster movies, among many, with the mad scientist conducting experiments that “defy god and nature” in a picturesque old castle perched atop a village that somehow skipped the 20th Century, Bojan Bazelli’s gorgeous cinematography taking full advantage of the Euro-gothic aesthetic. It’s a no-fucks-given gonzo experiment, laced with the riskiness of Giallo and the surrealist imagery of a Lynchian nightmare, disparate tones wrapped dreamily around an angry, blunt satire about the self-destructive, soul-sucking nature of greed and ambition. —Oktay Ege Kozak

14. XX Directors: Roxanne Benjamin, Annie Clark, Karyn Kusama, Jovanka Vuckovic, Sofia Carrillo It’s important that the scariest segment in XX, Magnet Releasing’s women-helmed horror anthology film, is also its most elementary: Young people trek out into the wilderness for fun and recreation, young people incur the wrath of hostile forces, young people get dead, easy as you please. You’ve seen this movie before, whether in the form of a slasher, a creature feature, or an animal attack flick. You’re seeing it again in XX in part because the formula works, and in part because the segment in question, titled “Don’t Fall,” must be elementary to facilitate its sibling chapters, which tend to be anything but. XX stands apart from other horror films because it invites its audience to feel a range of emotions aside from just fright. You might, for example, feel heartache during Jovanka Vuckovic’s “The Box,” or the uncertainty of dread in Karyn Kusama’s “Her Only Living Son,” or nauseous puzzlement with Sofia Carrillo’s macabre, stop-motion wraparound piece, meant to function as a palate cleanser between courses (an effectively unnerving work, thanks to its impressive technical achievements). Most of all, you might have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing uncontrollably during the film’s best short, “The Birthday Party,” written and directed by Annie Clark, better known by some as St. Vincent, in her filmmaking debut. XX is a horror movie spoken with the voices of women, a necessary notice that women are revolutionizing the genre as much as men. —Andy Crump

13. Split Director: M. Night Shyamalan Split is the film adaptation of M. Night Shyamalan’s misunderstanding of 30-year-old, since-discredited psychology textbooks on Dissociative Identity Disorder, but if we deign to treat it with scientific scrutiny, we’ll be here all night. Suffice it to say, don’t go looking at anything in this film as psychologically valid in any way. But do go see Split, because it’s probably M. Night Shyamalan’s best film since Signs. Or maybe since Unbreakable, for that matter. And if there’s one way that Splitreinvigorates Shyamalan’s stock most, it’s as a visual artist and writer-director of tension and thrilling action. The film looks spectacular, full of Hitchcockian homages that remind one of Vertigo and Psycho, to name only a few. It’s a far scarier, more suspenseful film in its high moments than Shyamalan’s last film, The Visit, ever attempted to be, and it may even be funnier as well, although these moments of levity are sown sparingly for maximum impact. Mike Gioulakis deserves major props for cinematography, but the other thing that will stick in my mind is the unexpectedly great sound design, full of rumbling, groaning metallic tones. After so many films that relied on the kind of overwrought twist ending that made The Sixth Sense so buzzy in 1999, it seems like Shyamalan has finally gotten over the hump to make the kinds of stories he makes best: atmospheric, suspenseful potboilers. Here’s hoping that this newfound streak of humility is here to stay. —Jim Vorel

12. Thelma Director: Joachim Trier Thelma (Eili Harboe) is a meek and quiet young woman moving away from her strict Christian parents (Henrik Rafaelsen, Ellen Dorit Petersen) for the first time in her life. To study Biology at a Norwegian university. She’s devoted to her faith and doesn’t indulge in alcohol, drugs or other earthly desires. But all of that changes when she sits next to Anja (Kaya Wilkins), a warm-hearted and empathetic schoolmate, during a study session. The two don’t even know each other yet, but Thelma’s close proximity to a girl she feels an intense attraction toward is enough to trigger a violent seizure, which may or may not be the result of her intense rejection of her feelings, spurned by her religious upbringing. With subtle yet passionate performances by its two leads, the film would have worked fine as a straight drama about Thelma’s journey towards (hopefully) acknowledging her nature. What makes Thelma so special is in the way Trier and co-writer Eskil Vogt wrap this already palpable drama around a fairly downplayed supernatural horror premise with surgical precision. —Oktay Ege Kozak

11. It Director: Andy Muschietti 2017 was the year of blockbuster horror, if ever such a thing has been quantifiable before. Get Out, Annabelle: Creation and even would-be direct-to-video gems such as 47 Meters Down turned sizable profits, but they were just priming the box office pump for It, which shattered nearly every horror movie record imaginable. Perhaps it was the uninspiring summer blockbuster season to thank for an audience starved for something, but just as much credit must go to director Andy Muschietti and, especially, to Pennywise star Bill Skarsgård for taking Stephen King’s famously cumbersome, overstuffed novel and transforming it into something stylish, scary and undeniably entertaining. The collection of perfectly cast kids in the Loser’s Club all have the look of young actors and actresses we’ll be seeing in film for decades to come, but it’s Skarsgård’s hypnotic face, lazy eyes and incessant drool that makes It so difficult to look away from (or forget, for that matter). The inevitable Part 2 will have its hands full in giving a similarly crackling translation to the less popular adult portion of King’s story, but the camaraderie Muschietti gets in his cast and the visual flair of this first It should give us ample reasons to be optimistic. Regardless, it’s impossible to dismiss the pop cultural impact that It will continue to have for a new generation discovering its well-loved characters. —Jim Vorel

10. The Lure Director: Agnieszka Smoczynska In Filmmaker Magazine, director Agnieszka Smoczynska called The Lure a “coming-of-age story” born of her past as the child of a nightclub owner: “I grew up breathing this atmosphere.” What she means to say, I’m guessing, is that The Lure is an even more restlessly plotted Boyhood if the Texan movie rebooted The Little Mermaid as a murderous synth-rock opera. (OK, maybe it’s nothing like Boyhood.) Smoczynska’s film resurrects prototypical fairy tale romance and fantasy without any of the false notes associated with Hollywood’s “gritty” reboot culture. Poland, the 1980s and the development of its leading young women provide a multi-genre milieu in which the film’s cannibalistic mermaids can sing their sultry, often violently funny siren songs to their dark hearts’re content. While Ariel the mermaid Disney princess finds empathy with young girls who watch her struggle with feelings of longing and entrapment, The Lure’s flesh-hungry, viscous, scaly fish-people are a gross, haptic and ultimately effective metaphor for the maturation of this same audience. In the water, the pair are innocent to the ways of humans (adults), but on land develop slimes and odors unfamiliar to themselves and odd (yet strangely attractive) to their new companions. Reckoning with bodily change, especially when shoved into the sex industry like many immigrants to Poland during the collapse of that country’s communist regime in the late ’80s, the film combines the politics of the time with the sexual politics of a girl becoming a woman (of having her body politicized). And though The Luremay bite off more human neck than it can chew, especially during its music-less plot wanderings, it’s just so wonderfully consistent in its oddball vision you won’t be able to help but be drawn in by its mesmerizing thrall. —Jacob Oller

9. The Transfiguration Director: Michael O’Shea Michael O’Shea’s The Transfiguration refreshingly refuses to disguise its influences and reference points, instead putting them all out there in the forefront for its audience’s edification, name-dropping a mouthful of noteworthy vampire films and sticking their very titles right smack dab in the midst of its mise en scène. They can’t be missed: Nosferatu is a big one, and so’s The Lost Boys, but none informs O’Shea’s film as much as Let the Right One In, the unique 2009 Swedish genre masterpiece. Like Tomas Alfredson’s bloodsucking coming-of-age tale, The Transfiguration casts a young’n, Milo (Eric Ruffin), as its protagonist, contrasting the horrible particulars of a vampire’s feeding habits against the surface innocence of his appearance. Unlike Let the Right One In, The Transfiguration may not be a vampire movie at all, but a movie about a lonesome kid with an unhealthy fixation on gothic legends. You may choose to view Milo as O’Shea’s modernized update of the iconic monster or a child brimming with inner evil; the film keeps its ends open, its truths veiled and only makes its sociopolitical allegories plain in its final, haunting images.

8. Creep 2 Director: Patrick Brice Creep was not a movie begging for a sequel. About one of cinema’s more unique serial killers—a man who seemingly needs to form close personal bonds with his quarry before dispatching them as testaments to his “art”—the 2014 original was self-sufficient enough. But Creep 2 is that rare follow-up wherein the goal seems to be not “let’s do it again,” but “let’s go deeper”—and by deeper, we mean much deeper, as this film plumbs the psyche of the central psychopath (who now goes by) Aaron (Mark Duplass) in ways both wholly unexpected and shockingly sincere, as we witness (and somehow sympathize with) a killer who has lost his passion for murder, and thus his zest for life. In truth, the film almost forgoes the idea of being a “horror movie,” remaining one only because we know of the atrocities Aaron has committed in the past, meanwhile becoming much more of an interpersonal drama about two people exploring the boundaries of trust and vulnerability. Desiree Akhavan is stunning as Sara, the film’s only other principal lead, creating a character who is able to connect in a humanistic way with Aaron unlike anything a fan of the first film might think possible. Two performers bare it all, both literally and figuratively: Creep 2 is one of the most surprising, emotionally resonant horror films in recent memory. —Jim Vorel

7. Prevenge Director: Alice Lowe Maybe getting close enough to gut a person when you’re seven months pregnant is a cinch—no one likely expects an expecting mother to cut their throat—but all the positive encouragement Ruth’s (Alice Lowe) unborn daughter gives her helps, too. The kid spends the film spurring her mother to slaughter seemingly innocent people from in utero, an invisible voice of incipient malevolence sporting a high-pitched giggle that’ll make your skin crawl. “Pregnant lady goes on a slashing spree at the behest of her gestating child” sounds like a perfectly daffy twist on one of the horror genre’s most enduring contemporary niches on paper. In practice it’s not quite so daffy, more somber than it is silly, but the bleak tone suits what writer, director, and star Lowe wants to achieve with her filmmaking debut. Another storyteller might have designed Prevenge as a more comically-slanted effort, but Lowe has sculpted it to smash taboos and social norms. Because Prevengehates human beings with a disturbing passion—even human beings who aren’t selfish, awful, creepy or worse—in it, child-rearing is a form of real-life body horror that’s as smartly crafted and grimly funny as it is terrifying. —Andy Crump / Full Review

6. mother! Director:   Darren Aronofsky   Try as you might to rationalize Darren Aronofsky’s mother!, mother! does not accept rationalization. There’s little reasonable ways to construct a single cohesive interpretation of what the movie tries to tell us. There is no evidence of Aronosfky’s intention beyond what we’ve intuited from watching his films since the ’90s. The most ironclad comment you can make about mother! is that it’s basically a matryoshka doll layered with batshit insanity. Unpack the first, and you’re met immediately by the next tier of crazy, and then the next, and so on, until you’ve unpacked the whole thing and seen it for what it is: A spiritual rumination on the divine ego, a plea for environmental stewardship, an indictment of entitled invasiveness, an apocalyptic vision of America in 2017, a demonstration of man’s tendency to leech everything from the women they love until they’re nothing but a carbonized husk, a very triggering reenactment of the worst house party you’ve ever thrown. mother! is a kitchen sink movie in the most literal sense: There’s an actual kitchen sink here, Aronofsky’s idea of a joke, perhaps, or just a necessarily transparent warning. mother! is about everything. Maybe the end result is that it’s also about nothing. But it’s really about whatever you can yank out of it, it’s elasticity the most terrifying thing about it. —Andy Crump

5. Personal Shopper Director: Olivier Assayas The pieces don’t all fit in Personal Shopper, but that’s much of the fun of writer-director Olivier Assayas’s enigmatic tale of Maureen (Kristen Stewart, a wonderfully unfathomable presence), who may be in contact with her dead twin brother. Or maybe she’s being stalked by an unseen assailant. Or maybe it’s both. To attempt to explain the direction Personal Shopper takes is merely to regurgitate plot points that don’t sound like they belong in the same film. But Assayas is working on a deeper, more metaphorical level, abandoning strict narrative cause-and-effect logic to give us fragments of Maureen’s life refracted through conflicting experiences. Nothing happens in this film as a direct result of what came before, which explains why a sudden appearance of suggestive, potentially dangerous text messages could be interpreted as a literal threat, or as some strange cosmic manifestation of other, subtler anxieties. Personal Shopperencourages a sense of play, moving from moody ghost story to tense thriller to (out of the blue) erotic character study. But that genre-hopping (not to mention the movie’s willfully inscrutable design) is Assayas’s way of bringing a lighthearted approach to serious questions about grieving and disillusionment. The juxtaposition isn’t jarring or glib—if anything, Personal Shopper is all the more entrancing because it won’t sit still, never letting us be comfortable in its shifting narrative. —Tim Grierson

4. A Dark Song Director: Liam Gavin In Liam Gavin’s black magic genre oddity, Sophia (Catherine Walker), a grief-stricken mother, and the schlubby, no-nonsense occultist (Steve Oram) she hires devote themselves to a long, meticulous, painstaking ritual in order to (they hope) communicate with her dead son. Gavin lays out the ritual specifically and physically—over the course of months of isolation, Sophia undergoes tests of endurance and humiliation, never quite sure if she’s participating in an elaborate hoax or if she can take her spiritual guide seriously when he promises her he’s succeeded in the past. Paced to near perfection, A Dark Song is ostensibly a horror film but operates as a dread-laden procedural, mounting tension while translating the process of bereavement as patient, excruciating manual labor. In the end, something definitely happens, but its implications are so steeped in the blurry lines between Christianity and the occult that I still wonder what kind of alternate realms of existence Gavin is getting at. But A Dark Song thrives in that uncertainty, feeding off of monotony. Sophia may hear phantasmagorical noise coming from beneath the floorboards, but then substantial spans of time pass without anything else happening, and we begin to question, as she does, whether it was something she did wrong (maybe, when tasked with not moving from inside a small chalk circle for days at a time, she screwed up that portion of the ritual by allowing her urine to dribble outside of the boundary) or whether her grief has blinded her to an expensive con. Regardless, that “not knowing” is the scary stuff of everyday life, and by portraying Sophia’s profound emotional journey as a humdrum trial of physical mettle, Gavin reveals just how much pointless, even terrifying work it can be anymore to not only live the most ordinary of days, but to make it to the next. —Dom Sinacola

3. Raw Director: Julia Ducournou If you’re the proud owner of a twisted sense of humor, you might sell your friends on Julia Ducournau’s Raw as a coming-of-age movie in a bid to trick them into seeing it. Yes, the film’s protagonist, naive incoming college student Justine (Garance Marillier), comes of age over the course of its running time: She parties, she breaks out of her shell and she learns about who she really is on the verge of adulthood. But most kids who discover themselves in the movies don’t realize that they’ve spent their lives unwittingly suppressing an innate, nigh-insatiable need to consume raw meat. Allow Ducournau her cheekiness: More than a wink and nod to the picture’s visceral particulars, her film’s title is an open concession to the harrowing quality of Justine’s grim blossoming. Nasty as the film gets, and it does indeed get nasty, the harshest sensations Ducournau articulates here tend to be the ones we can’t detect by merely looking. Fear of feminine sexuality, family legacies, popularity politics and the uncertainty of self govern Raw’s horrors as much as exposed and bloody flesh. It’s a gorefest that offers no apologies and plenty more to chew on than its effects. —Andy Crump

2. It Comes at Night Director: Trey Edward Shults It Comes at Night is ostensibly a horror movie, moreso than Shults’s debut, Krisha, but even Krisha was more of a horror movie than most measured family dramas typically are. Perhaps knowing this, Shults calls It Comes at Night an atypical horror movie, but—it’s already obvious after only two of these—Shults makes horror movies to the extent that everything in them is laced with dread, and every situation suffocated with inevitability. For his sophomore film, adorned with a much larger budget than Krisha and cast with some real indie star power compared to his previous cast (of family members doing him a solid), Shults imagines a near future as could be expected from a somber flick like this. A “sickness” has ravaged the world and survival is all that matters for those still left. In order to keep their shit together enough to keep living, the small group of people in Shults’s film have to accept the same things the audience does: That important characters will die, tragedy will happen and the horror of life is about the pointlessness of resisting the tide of either. So it makes sense that It Comes at Night is such an open wound of a watch, pained with regret and loss and the mundane ache of simply existing: It’s trauma as tone poem, bittersweet down to its bones, a triumph of empathetic, soul-shaking movie-making. —Dom Sinacola

1. Get Out Director:   Jordan Peele   Peele’s a natural behind the camera, but Get Out benefits most from its deceptively trim premise, a simplicity which belies rich thematic depth. Chris (Daniel Kaluuya) and Rose (Allison Williams) go to spend a weekend with her folks in their lavish upstate New York mansion, where they’re throwing the annual Armitage bash with all their friends in attendance. Chris immediately feels out of place; events escalate from there, taking the narrative in a ghastly direction that ultimately ties back to the unsettling sensation of being the “other” in a room full of people who aren’t like you—and never let you forget it. Put indelicately, Get Out is about being black and surrounded by whites who squeeze your biceps without asking, who fetishize you to your face, who analyze your blackness as if it’s a fashion trend. At best Chris’s ordeal is bizarre and dizzying, the kind of thing he might bitterly chuckle about in retrospect. At worst it’s a setup for such macabre developments as are found in the domain of horror. That’s the finest of lines Peele and Get Out walk without stumbling. —Andy Crump

[mindthump]

Flying Lotus doesn’t ‘give a f***’ if anyone buys his disturbing new movie http://ift.tt/2vjXaKl

Even if you don’t know Flying Lotus (real name Steven Ellison), you’ve probably heard him. The 33-year-old producer from Los Angeles has made a name for himself over the past decade crafting daringly abstract soundscapes, and working with the likes of Thom Yorke, Herbie Hancock, Kendrick Lamar, and George Clinton. You may have even taken a joyride or two to his radio station on Grand Theft Auto V. But did you know he’s making a horror movie that could be the most grotesque film released all year? In our exclusive Flying Lotus interview, we ask him all about the insanity that is Kuso, the first film he’s written and directed.

“I don’t give a f*ck if no one buys my movie because I can tour it like I would tour a DJ set.”

Kuso is set in Los Angeles after an earthquake, and that is where the familiarity ends. Instead of a linear storyline, Kuso ties together absurdist tales of CGI abortions and Strangers Things-esque tree creatures. Lotus’s wanted the horror of Kuso to hit closer to home than other scary flicks.

“Kuso wasn’t meant to be the grossest, most shocking thing of all time. It’s supposed to show everyone their ugly ass in full HD,” Lotus told Digital Trends. “I was tired of everything being so clean, glossy, and everyone trying to beautify it and make it all pretty, and I thought ‘yo ass ugly.’ That was going to be the name of the movie, Yo Ass Ugly.��

Before Kuso streams into your nightmares on horror streaming service Shudder on July 21, Lotus sat down with us to explain how he got the the godfather of funk George Clinton to play a sordid doctor, what virtual reality game scares him more than horror films, and how Robocop inspired his latest creative effort.

Editor’s note: The following includes explicit subjects and language.

Digital Trends: I just have to say, Kuso is one of the most beautifully grotesque films I have ever seen. I do not think I will ever look at boils the same again. Did you go into the film trying to one up other horror films?

Flying Lotus: I wouldn’t say it like that. I think that I was just tired of people cutting away from the good moments. We’ve been bombarded with PG-13 horror stuff for so long, CGI horror. I was just so tired of it. I wanted to do something that reminded me of my childhood. Those things that get burned in your brain as a kid that you’ll never forget.

For me, it’s the first Robocop. It was hard as fuck. When they killed Murphy in the beginning and they shoot his arms off and all that shit like “Whoaaaaa!” [Laughs and flails arms] I’ll never forget that shit. As a kid, I had nightmares … and I wanted to do that to somebody. [Laughs]

Kuso is being released on horror-film streaming service Shudder and has a limited showing in NYC and LA. Did the graphic nature of the film affect how you released it?

I didn’t concern myself with all of that stuff initially. I was just like “Fuck it. I’m going to do what I need to do. I don’t care about whatever, I’m just going to keep going.” Then as it started to get close to finishing I began to think about that. My initial thought was “I don’t give a fuck. Okay? I don’t give a fuck if no one buys my movie because I can tour it like I would tour a DJ set.” That was my original plan. I was just going to make the movie right after Sundance, go on the road and tour the shit out of it, show it to everybody, and DJ at night. Make my money back. I said that on the internet and the next day I had an offer.

So you tweeted out your plan and the next day Shudder made an offer?

Right after the Sundance screenings and all this talk about walk-outs I thought, “People are talking about it, maybe I won’t sell it. I’ll just keep this motherfucker.” Then the next day there was an offer.

If I sold Kuso direct to YOU the fan. Would u buy it?

— KUSO July 21st! (@flyinglotus) January 26, 2017

I have to ask about George Clinton’s character in Kuso, a deranged pseudo-doctor who cures a man’s strange affliction in an even stranger way. How did you get the Godfather of Funk to play such a grotesque role?

[Laughs] I got a good story about George. We have been working on music for a project of mine and all the while I was thinking I’d get Craig Robinson to play the doctor. We had been talking a bunch and trying to get our schedules in line, but in the back of my mind I thought George would be great. I wrote this stuff already and I was like, “Hey George, what do you think about being in my movie?” He said [high pitched voice] “Alright.” I asked him, “What do you think about showing your butthole on camera?” He looked at me and said “Nah.” [Laughs] So, we had to get a puppet.

Music plays a big part in the film and you even tweeted recently that half of your new album is in the film. How did that happen? 

I kind of knew the album was going to be in it. I just didn’t want to say it publicly until later on. I didn’t want the focus to be about the album. I think it’s really easy to make it a Flying Lotus thing and a music thing all of the time. I wanted to let the film live as what it is before I started bringing my album into it and then it’s, “Oh, now you’re speaking my language. It’s music? I fuck with you now, man.” I wanted to wait, because I knew it would be a different reaction, initially.

You are the grand nephew of Alice Coltrane, a great jazz composer and wife of jazz legend John Coltrane. Do you think growing up with that kind of pedigree helped shape your creative endeavors? Have you always known you’d be deeply involved with music?

It had a big effect on me. If anything, I just knew you can do anything. If you pursued art in a way that was genuine, passionate, and you really pushed it, you could make something. I have examples of that in my family. That holds people back a lot of times. They don’t have examples to go by. So it seems way less tangible and more of a dream that you can make it in art. But, if you have these people around you, I think it becomes a little bit more of a reality.

Warp Records

Warp Records

Warp Records

Warp Records

I went to see my cousins perform jazz concerts and all this stuff, so I’ve seen it and grew up thinking this can be a real thing if I grind. It was funny, though, because I remember a lot of them as the weirdos, even though they are cosmic jazz motherfuckers. [Laughs]. They’re like, “What the fuck are you making over here?” I’m like, “What the fuck are you making?” So, I’m just glad it all worked out. [Laughs]

You’ve worked with some amazing artists. George Clinton, Thom Yorke, Kendrick Lamar, etc. You even worked on a song with Michael McDonald for Thundercat’s latest album Drunk. Are there any artists you really wish you could do songs with even if they are not in the same genre, per se, as you?

I really would love to do a track with Beyoncé. I don’t know how it would sound. She invited me over before Lemonade came out. She played me the album just as it is now. I was hoping it wasn’t done yet.

She was like [imitates Beyonce’s voice] “If you want to remix this thing, I kind of don’t like the drums.” I was like, “A remix? B, noooooo!” She was like, “You want to do something original, don’t you?” I was like, “Yessssss!” So, we’ll see what happens.

What is your most memorable studio session?

There’s so many good ones. The Kendrick Lamar situation when he worked on my album [You’re Dead] was really special. He came by the house. There was no email shit. He came through in a hoodie, by himself. I played the beat, he wrote the song on my couch.

I was like [gasps], “Oh fuck. That’s where we’re going with it, K?” I’ll never forget it.

“The racial shit is just way too intense. It was a response to a police shooting, but it was too much.”

For such an unabashedly dark film, were there any scenes in Kuso you cut out?

Yeah, there were a couple things. More of the animated stuff. There’s a sequence where it’s about a cop, a really racist cop. A black cop. To me, I didn’t think it was the right thing to say right now, in these times.

The racial shit is just way too intense. It was a response to a police shooting, but it was too much. I was just like, “This ain’t right. I don’t want to be hated by every Black person.”

Kuso is so out there and horrific, I wonder if  there are there any horror films that scare you. Are there?

No, the video games do. Resident Evil 7 is the most terrifying shit ever. The VR is crazy. I remember playing and it starts out really beautiful outside. It’s sunny and shit. You go to the house and it’s just a black door. You just have to walk into the darkness. I was like, “Nahhhhh, I’m goooooood.”

Would you ever use virtual reality for anything, music or film-wise?

There’s Kuso VR. We showed it yesterday. It’s still being finished. It’s really cool, though, it’s all interactive. I will tell you one thing, there’s different little mini-games. There’s a part where you can play “midi titties.” Evil titty monsters you slap that go “bum, bum, bum, bum” [Laughs].

Do you have plans for a follow up film after Kuso? What would you do differently, if anything?

Hell yeah. I’m writing a new film right now that is crazy, but it’s not Kuso. It’s nothing like that. But, it’s a bit different. It’s like my Being John Malcovich movie.

[powerproofgirl]

Writing horror is weird: you’re basically inviting strangers to listen as, for hours, you try to scare the hell out of them. And best case scenario, when you’re finished with them, they’ll anxiously await the next time they can pay for the privilege of being scared by you. Honestly, the whole thing sounds like some cultish mind-control . . . horror story. Or like people waiting in line for a roller coaster with “death” in its name.

In horror, storytelling’s golden rule—“if you get their attention, you better have something to say”—goes niche: if you get their attention, you better send chills down their spine. And let’s face it. We’ve all seen Silence of the Lambs. Pennywise has been revived. Hell, a new generation of kids is growing up on Goosebumps and, now, Five Nights at Freddy’s. And then there’s the news. Suffice it to say, your average modern consumer of American media is a little jaded to the same-ole, same-ole scare tactics.

To build an effective horror story—or a thriller, suspense, fantasy/sci-fi, or nongenre literary story with horror elements—it’s important to know how you want to scare your readers, what your main characters are supposed to evoke in one another, and how your basic approach to content should reflect those goals.

What Type of Fear?: Looking at the Hero-Villain Relationship

What exactly do you want your readers to feel? Should they be set on edge/nervous about the unknown? Terrified of how a known diabolical horror will be applied this time, to Character X? Afraid of time running out? Incrementally and subtly terrorized by a force that reveals its destruction in spread-out scenes and with stealth? Scared of a person, creature, or force that seems so completely unhinged that the worst of the worst is practically guaranteed?

If you don’t find the answers coming easily, it may help to refocus on two of the main pieces of any good pulse-pounder: the protagonist and antagonist. In horror, as in other genres, their relationship boils down to what they bring out in one another. In one of the most prominent classic examples of this relationship, the villain finds the hero to be a worthy opponent—a challenge—and escalates instances of violence and terror to “play with” the hero. The hero, in turn, has to manifest a heretofore untapped level of courage, often being cornered into moments of hellish introspection along the way. (As exemplified by one duo that, even as they have played Genre Twister over the years, dabbling in everything from slapstick comedy to slick action to dark thriller, have maintained that basic dynamic: Batman and the Joker.)

In horror, there’s one basic stipulation that goes with their dynamic, whatever precisely it is: the villain should want to scare the hero—and the hero should be scared. It’s very hard to make your reader feel any fear if the protagonist doesn’t. Literary Psychology 101: your protagonist is your reader’s proxy. So . . . well, if that dude isn’t worried, why should I be?

But what type of fear? And what kind of courage does the hero need to push through?

If the hero-villain dance is one of maleficent versus benevolent genius, the hero may be terrified that an equal-to-or-greater-than mind is working for the dark side. And may need to unearth a courageous self-trust and the ability to stay calm in the face of battlefield chaos. If the baddie is a repugnant fanged troop from the army of the undead, the hero’s courage doesn’t necessarily need subtle psychological flavor (though it can certainly be fun to inject unexpected intricacy into a zombie/werewolf/vampire/etc. story); these heroes need the basic courage to confront creatures that can kill them, quickly and nastily.

Should You Go for Gore?

It’s an age-old issue in horror and genres that incorporate horror elements: Do you need blood and guts to sell the fear? And for that matter, does going gore actually make readers’ fear spike, or does it just make them squeamish? For some, revulsion and fear may be sibling emotions; for others, gore is off-putting enough to be a deal-breaker.

When you’ve figured out what you want to make your readers feel, your overall approach to shiver-stirring content should unfold naturally:

If you intend a given nemesis to be repulsive, so that readers—and other characters—experience a distinctly visceral aversion, let your readers see him shed blood, hear him dragging his feet through puddles of it, feel him retrieving tools of the trade from the body remains tiling his basement. Engaging and offending the senses paves a steady path to repulsion.

If the horror vibe you’re going for is more psychological, gore isn’t necessary. Actually, not just “not necessary.” In these cases, gore is typically a distraction; use of it beyond the infrequent and well-thought-out variety can lead to an inconsistent tone that undermines your story.

Questions to Build a Bloodcurdling Bad Guy

What would positively ice one’s spine in real life won’t necessarily make a ripple in fiction; even if your villain is slaying strangers with a machete . . . well, the horror and oddball horror/comedy worlds have both seen plenty o’ machete killers. What makes this one different? What makes this one somebody you wouldn’t simply run from in the real world—where, let’s face it, we’d all run from threats of a much slighter scale than burly folk with big knives—but someone who stalks your peace of mind right through your suspended disbelief?

If you have created an engrossing world with believable characters and a setting that fascinates, you can rely on those very elements to convince your reader the bad guy is BAD.

Ask yourself these questions:

How does the bartender react to your villain sitting down for a drink? (Rushing to get it even when the place is packed; dropping the ice scoop; responding with a halting stutter even when the villain’s own words seem, on the surface, pleasant, etc.)

If the villain’s family and/or friends are part of the story, how do they react? Family breeds familiarity and motherhood tends to breed overlooking even heinous flaws. Is your villain so fearsome that his mother’s hand shakes when she cuts a slice of pie for him, their dialogue stilted from caution on her part and passive threats on his?

How do strangers react to your villain? If you need to convey some grotesque deformity or scar, it can be effective—before you ever describe it—to show a stranger turning around to see the villain and gasping. Recoiling. But even if the villain wears no visible mark of evil, others could still sense something’s off and start toeing the line, breathing more deeply, checking around the room to make sure their loved ones and prized possessions are accounted for.

Is there someone in the villain’s life who is not afraid? In Red Dragon, Francis Dolarhyde/The Tooth Fairy/The Great Red Dragon gives a variety of characters a variety of reasons to quiver before him, but his romantic interest, and blind coworker, Reba McClane never fears him. Is there a character who has good reason to miss what makes your villain fearsome? If so, it can serve as a powerful contrast, and deepen characterization by hinting at how things may have been different if it weren’t for a certain feature the world can’t look past but this one character can. Better still, this can allow you to gradually escalate circumstances to the point that even Character X becomes terrified of the villain—not only showing how vile the villain has become, and how hope for redemption has been lost, but also provoking in the villain an unprecedented degree of rage and vengeance.

How do others act when the villain “does her thing”? Regardless of whether your villain uses a hook, sword, gun, or more everyday and subtle weapon to effect destruction, there’s a moment when the villain starts doing that thing via which she’s earned her reputation, and how people react is important. Think not so much in terms of standard movie-screen reactions (running, crying, pleading, etc.) but in sudden contrasts of character (grown-ups wetting their pants, the resident tough guy cowering, people who have just been fighting over a civil dispute suddenly helping each other take cover) and extreme self-protective measures in which the frightened character risks—even welcomes—lesser injury (getting splinters under one’s fingernails from scratching the wood floor while being dragged away; jumping from an absurd height and breaking one’s legs; rushing into a forest, a cave, the hideout of a vicious gang, etc., for comparative safety).

By asking yourself these questions, you’ll help establish your villain as a truly terrifying presence that rings in the memories of horror fans for years to come.

An experienced book editor can assist you in making your scary characters their most frightsome, your hero believably brave, and your surrounding characters and settings conducive to punching up the fear. Contact me at editor@powerproofgirl.com or via the web form on this site for a consultation and sample edit regarding your novel, nonfiction book, short story or poetry collection, or shorter work.

How to Scare Your Readers: Writing Effective Horror Writing horror is weird: you’re basically inviting strangers to listen as, for hours, you try to scare the hell out of them.