#add in the super pretty veil from the movie and we have a Look

[was70th]

wedding dress vibes

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Left and Returned: Definitely Nothing Wrong

Danny Phantom x Supernatural Crossover

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Ao3 (includes additional notes)

Chapter 6:

"Did the police find any razors in the rest of the candy, Mrs. Wallace?" Dean listens to his brother interview the victim's wife as he searches for anything ‘weird.’ 

"No, I mean, I don’t think so… I just – I can’t believe it. You hear urban legends about this stuff, but it actually happens?"

"More than you might imagine."

Dean finds it, the hex bag stuffed between the fridge and the counter. He holds it up behind the widow's back so Sam can see. 

Sam sighs, "Mrs. Wallace, did Luke have any enemies? Anyone who might have held a grudge against him?"

"No, and if someone wanted to kill my husband, don’t you think they’d find a better way than  razors in a single piece of candy when there's an entire bag?"

And the lady would have a point, if they weren't dealing with a witch.

---

Dean bit into the chocolate, it was the cheap stuff that people didn't mind giving out for free, even when it he was and adult man two days before the holiday. It was too sweet and had a weird after taste. Not great but worth it when Sam made a face.

"Really?"

"It's Halloween, man."

There's a rustling sound, Danny pulls another candy from its wrapper. He pops it into his mouth.

"You too? After the the razor blades?"

"I don't mind a few metal bits, adds crunch."

"Seriously?" Dean turns to the kid, who's watching them innocently, "You chowing down on sheet metal when we're not looking?"

"I might be, you'll neeever know."

"Uh-huh." Dean was pretty sure he was messing with them. Pretty sure. "Find anything interesting Sammy?"

"Hexbag has some serious stuff. This plant has been extinct for 200 years, this coin looks real, 600 years old real... and this," Sam lifts the little burned thing. "Is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby."

"Gross. Witches man, I hate'm."

"Well, we're dealing with a powerful one. Getting stuff like this, wouldn't be easy."

"That or they're super rich." Danny offers. 

"What would a super rich guy get out killing a soccer dad?"

"Wants revenge on the guy who married his college sweetheart who got away?"

"Uh... sure? Do you have a name?" Sam asks.

"No, I was just throwing out possibilities."

"So we have nothing."

---

Then there was the second hex bag in a random high-schooler's party, a girl boiled alive in room temperature water. 

"Maybe this witch isn’t working the grudge, maybe they’re working a spell..." Sam skims over an old creepy book. "Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest. Celtic Calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st."

"That's an incredibly inefficient way to summon Frighty." Danny mumbles. 

"Frighty?"

"Fright Knight, Spirit of Halloween."

"The demon the witch is trying to summon, Samhain? You know him." Sam clarified, Dean watched the kid carefully.

"Not by that name.” He flopped back on the unclaimed bed that would probably Dean's but was currently serving as a couch. “Names are important. And he's not a Demon he's a spirit."

"Samhain, the origin of Halloween, the Samhain the Celts believed in.  October 31st was the night of the year when the veil was the thinnest between the living and the dead, Samhain’s night. I mean, masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcised centuries ago."

"And in those centuries Halloween changed, became trick-or-treating, pranks, parties, candy and horror movies. The idea of Halloween itself, the spirit of Halloween. Fright Knight shed his old name and became something to reflect that. He won't like you dredging up past identity."

"You're sure you don't just know a different guy?" Dean asked. He wouldn't believe this if he hadn't still had the Autumn Dance's song echoing in his dreams.

"Yeah, Frighty's sensitive about it."

"So this witch is summoning what? More Halloween fun?"

"No, he'll be mad. Probably send her to a nightmare realm, but it won't go past that."

"Well... good."

"And you're sure?" Sam asks, "According to this once he's raised he can do raising of his own."

"Frighty wouldn't."

"Alright... still we should find this witch before she kills anyone else."

"Of course."

---

A whole day of stakeout to find out that the cheerleader had lied to their faces, she'd had access to both houses, claiming to never have heard of the Wallace's. Then they find her history of violence, the fact that she's emancipated and very well could be living fake ID to fake ID.

Finding her on the other hand... was proving more difficult. 

Danny had even walked them through a couple of front doors, like straight through the front door, like they were the ghosts. It was weird, and cold, and super useful even though it didn't amount to much. 

They needed a gameplan. And a gameplan seemed much more likely to drop into their lap when Danny opens the motel door and says, "Oh, hi Castiel! 

"Danny," Castiel greets, "Dean. Sam."

"Oh my God!– er– uh– I didn’t mean to– sorry. It’s an honor, really, I– I’ve heard a lot about you." Sam expertly fumbles as he moves out of the entryway. 

"And I, you. Sam Winchester... The boy with the demon blood... Glad to see you’ve ceased your extracurricular activities." Wow... awkward. 

"Let’s keep it that way." Adds a guy staring ominously out the window.

"Yeah, okay, chuckles." Dean turns to Castiel. "Who’s your friend?"

"The raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?"

"Not yet, what's it to you?"

"Have you found the witch?"

"We know who she is."

"Is she dead?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"The raising of Samhain is one of the 66 seals."

"So this is about your buddy Lucifer."

"Lucifer is no friend of ours." Says nameless angel #2.

"It’s just an expression."

"Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs. And the witch knows who you are." Castiel lifts a Hexbag.

"This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn’t found it, surely one or both of you would be dead. Do you know where the witch is now?"

"I would've found it. I only just got back." Danny defends and both angels' attention snap to him. 

Danny has offended #2 "You cannot be certain of—" 

"It's a pretty strong energy, I doubt some drywall would stifle it much." 

"Regardless. You need to leave this town immediately." 

"Why?"

"Because we’re about to destroy it." Castiel informs them. And Dean expects it when the air goes cold. The angel's shift uneasily, but they don't pin Danny as the source.

"Your plan is to smite the whole friggin’ town?"

"We’re out of time. This witch has to die, the seal must be saved."

"There are a thousand people here." Sam argues

"One thousand two hundred fourteen." #2 corrects.

"And you’re willing to kill them all?" Dean can hear Sam's faith shattering, and he hates these guys even more.

"This isn’t the first time I’ve… purified a city." #2 tells them

"It is regrettable." Castiel sympathizes.

"Regrettable?"

"We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already."

"And we're just supposed to let you?" Danny asks. "Because of your apocalypse's prophesied precursors?"

"It’s the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There’s a bigger picture here."

"And ten years ago they said Phantom was inevitable. They said only one half'a life, against six billion. But guess what? We're all still here."

"The abomination." #2 recognizes, from whatever this story Danny is telling is. Frost snakes up the windows. Their breaths fog in the air, but #2 is undeterred. "This is not the same."

And the Angel's do notice the change, but instead of Danny, they turn to glare at Sam .

"No," Dean lies, because he doesn't want to know if Danny is being stupidly arrogant or if he actually can take these guys. Part of him knows the collateral of either outcome... he doesn't want to know. And he's ticked off, and the angels are looking at Sam like they're going to smite him for something he's not even doing. So, he bluffs, if it backfires then Danny can do whatever he planned to do. "if you’re gonna smite this whole town, then you’re gonna have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting me out of hell. I figure I’m worth something to the man upstairs. So you wanna waste me, go ahead, see how he digs that."

"I will drag you out of here myself." #2 tells him, and just him, Dean realizes. They aren't offering to save anyone else. He's even more sure this is the right thing.

"Yeah, but you’ll have to kill me, then we’re back to the same problem. I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Sounds to me like you're compensating for something." He turns to Castiel who, oddly, is more sympathetic than his friend. "We can do this. We will find that witch and we will stop the summoning."

"Castiel! I will not let these peop–"

"Uriel, that's enough." Castiel holds up his hand, silencing #2 whose name is Uriel, apparently. Castiel watches Dean for a long moment. "I suggest you move quickly."

---

"Do you guys have this? I think I should spy on them." Danny says when, presumably, they're out of the angel's earshot.

"You trust this Halloween guy?"

"With the jewels behind the throne." At some point Dean will stop being thrown by the things the kid says. At some point.

"Right... Then they're the bigger threat. We'll figure it out, call us if they're planning a double cross."

Danny vanishes from the back seat. 

"You okay?" He asks Sam, who still looks miserable. They do say to never meet your heroes.

---

"The decision's been made." Castiel tells Uriel. Unfortunately, he does not elaborate on what decision, or what outcome has been decided on.

"By a mud monkey." Uriel laughs bitterly.

"You shouldn’t call them that."

"Ah, it’s what they are, savages, just plumbing on two legs."

Danny flips himself over the bench the angel's share, so he sits between them, upside-down so his feet hang over the backrest and his head dangles off the edge of the seat. It's not a defensible position... for someone worried about silly things like corporeal objects. "That's mean for a guy who's currently wearing a human person. At least show some respect for him."

The angels don't jump, and he didn’t really expect them too, but it's always fun when they do.

"And it's close to blasphemy." Castiel warns Uriel, but Danny heeds the warning as well. Castiel seems to be on team let-the-town-live instead of team nuclear bomb, and Danny would like it to stay that way, so he's not going to try to narrow down where in the realms these guys are from. (At least today.)

Uriel sighs, "Very well. But I do not take orders from this one, regardless of his involvement in the Abomination's unmaking."

Huh? 

"Of course not. Why are you here, Danny."

Huh? Okay normally when beings like this start throwing around words like abomination, they're talking about him.

"I'm keeping an eye on you guys. Obviously."

"We are not planning to break the seal. Your priority should be the witch."

"Yeah well, Frighty hasn't expressed desire to end an entire town."

"We are trying to prevent the end of your world." 

Danny doesn't say 'I am the end of this world.' Because he's not, because he refuses to be and they probably won’t get that he's joking. He doesn't say 'I could've been the end of this world' because... they don't seem to know that?

"Like the Observants failed to do?" He says instead and he wish- no he was disappointed he hadn't sat so he could see the angel's faces. He wonders if they have members in that group.

"The Observants succeeded." Uriel corrects. And isn't that interesting. Did the Eyeballs lie to angels? Danny wouldn't put it past them.

"No, no they didn't. They handed it off to the Timekeeper, who disobeyed. The "Abomination" just didn't feel like much destruction."

"It lives?" Uriel demanded. 

"Nothing dead lives." Danny lied. 

"It still exists, and you know where it is." Castiel guesses.

Danny stands, like a normal person would stand because apparently angels can't tell what they're talking too. Maybe it's the anti-Vladco-tracking-device device in his shoe? But yeah, standing like that means he has to awkwardly unhook his legs and climb off the bench. "Obviously."

"Where?"

"Ah, no. I thought we established that I don't trust you."

Uriel stands, fast, so fast a human might not track it. "You will tell us."

"Will you try to make me if I'm under his protection?"

Uriel stops, doesn't quite get in his face.

"The world isn't going to end." Danny tells them, it's almost a promise.

Castiel stands. "So you'll ignore what Samhain will do? Because you don't believe the seals hold power?" 

Danny sighs, “ Fright Knight , his name is Fright Knight.”

“Does his summoner know that?” Uriel asks, with the smugness of someone who knows old magic. 

“What do you know?”

---

Dean feels a little uneasy when Fright Knight rises in the dying man's body. He feels doubt when he calls the witch beautiful, hopeful, when he kills the witch, and doubt again when he calls her a whore. Like sure, but it doesn't feel like something Danny's friends would say, you know? Then again, he's Danny’s friend and he's not really above it? Maybe he's just reading into it because of Ruby, and Lilith, and every other demon who's shown utter disdain for their followers. Still, he thinks the kid would at least give the guy a disappointed look.

But Fright Knight didn't seem bothered by them playing dead on the ground, faces covered in blood because of Sam's quick thinking.

He didn't seem delighted by the trick-or-treating or the decorations like Danny said he would be. They follow him to the cemetery and arrive just in time to hear the screaming start.

They split up, Dean frees the kids and starts in on the zombies. It's easier to let the rage flow as he hacks at the hungry undead. It's easier than confronting the thought circling the back of his mind.

Danny lied. Danny lied. Danny lied.

The kid shows up around the time things start to get tight. He drives someone into one zombie's eye socket and blasts another away with some kind of green fire. It gives Dean the moment he needs to lock the rest inside their vault. 

Then Dean punches him in the face. His fist connects. Danny staggers back, clutching at his nose, but then his eyes go wide.

"The witch didn't summon those, did she?"

"Ya think?!" Dean swings with the weapon. This time the kid dodges cleanly and is running. Dean gives chase.

"Where's Sam?! If I was wrong about this, then—" he cuts himself off, deciding which path to take as it forks. Dean swings again, this time Danny blocks and disarms. Intangibility, Dean realizes, Danny simply just pulled the weapon from his hands. Then he tosses it away. "Dean, where's Sam!?"

The panic looks real. Feels real, Dean can taste it on the air. Can Danny fake that? What would be the point of pretending after he's won?

Dean shakes himself, and points in the direction Sam went. They both run in that direction.

They arrive to see Samhain throw Sam across the room.

"Fright!? What are you doing?" 

Samhain sees them, and Dean is flying backwards. He hits the wall hard.

"Fright! It's me!" Dean blinks and Danny is floating off the ground.

"You should know better," Samhain tells him, "than to use a name unclaimed by one such as me, Phantom."

"That is the name you gave to use!" Danny flies back, joining Dean in a hard impact against the wall.

"No longer!" Samhain shouts.

"No!"

"I am far more than you can ever—" Samhain chokes. Sam stands on the other end of the room, his arm outstretched. His face twisted in struggle. 

Then demonic smoke pours from the man's mouth. It crackles on the ground, Dean sees a glimpse of hellfire before it vanishes. The body Samhain inhabited, crumples to the ground.

---

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean demanded. Danny stands with the motel door half open. 

"There's something I need to do."

"After that? You think you're just walking away?!"

Danny holds the door open for him. Dean looks to Sammy.

"Want me to come too?"

"We'll talk later." Dean decides, because he doesn't want to be sidetracked by a fight with his brother. (And it will probably be a fight.) He walks out, and follows the kid down the street.

Danny pays a trick-or-treater twenty dollars for a plastic costume sword. He steals a jack-o-lantern off someone's porch, and finds a place where they're not likely to be distributed for a while.

"Are you helping, or just waiting to see if you need to shoot me?" Danny asks, there's no threat or demand in it, just weariness.

"What would I do if I was helping?" Dean asked. Danny turned the plastic blade in his hands and started carving into it with his knife. 

"I need a devil's trap." 

"You're summoning a demon?!"

"...Not if this works..."

"Explain."

"They're the same person, Fright Knight and Samhain. But the witch summoned Samhain, pulled his past self to the forefront, and Samhain rejected the new name... maybe, if I summon Fright Knight by his way... maybe it will bring him back?"

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then even if I'm making the trap, you're checking it beforehand."

Dean sighed. If the kid had been his usual joking self, he'd tell him off. But he was solemn, sad, and was etching symbols into cheap plastic like it was a gravestone.  "Can I stop you?"

"No." 

Dean sighed and started drawing. He was always careful with devil's traps. But he paid extra attention to this, he made it as detailed as he was certain of without going back to consult Bobby's books. He checked and rechecked. As Danny made his own circle in mystery sigils around the pentagram. 

"It's ready." He told the kid, who checked his own work. Then he plunged the plastic blade into the pumpkin. He said some words in a language that wasn't Latin, and slowly pulled the blade free.

The blade that emerged was not made of plastic. Dean didn't know what it was made of, but the embedded sigils matched the ones Danny had carved, and its blade looked deadly sharp. Once the entirety of the sword was pulled free, a storm began inside the pentagram.

Samhain had been exorcised from the body he'd possessed earlier. Now trapped without a vessel, he amassed into a roiling black cloud that thrashed against the invisible walls of its binding.

The storm spoke with thunder and static. Danny replied with the cracking of lake ice and the silence of an infinite nothing. 

And Dean understood. 

Rage. 

Betrayal.

Mocking. 

Demand: Return. Return. Return.

Mocking. Destruction's intent. 

Dean sees it. In a year's time, what was Fright Knight's will, will no longer be in transition. People will do as they always do, preparing in joyful tradition for a night celebrating youth and horrors that they do not have to fear. Factories will churn, parents will spend precious dollars or days crafting or both, people will carve into pumpkins and hang cobwebs and plastic imitation corpses— and they will all do so, not with the intent of warding away Halloween's Patron, but with the intent to welcome him. Such power will be Samhain's. There will be ruin unlike any humanity has seen before.

 Fury. Betrayal. 

Plea: Return.

Mocking. 

Acceptance.

"Dean, can I borrow your knife?"

The English words pull him back from... whatever that was, but not quite pulling him free. If he gives him the knife, Danny will have both it, and the sword of unknown power.

He responds with a ground scuff of readying feet,  the fabric rustle of a repositioned gun.

Danny nods, replies with a turn of the sword. He holds it by its blade, holding it out to Dean handle first.

Dean takes it. 

Danny doesn't let go for a moment. "Careful," he warns, "Soulshreader is bound. She will try to return to her master."

Dean tightens his grip on the handle and Danny releases her. Dean pulls the demon killing blade from his belt and hands it over in the same manner.

Danny steps into the circle with Samhain and Dean watches a demon die. 

Danny steps back out of the circle and chokes on his sobs.

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Running Away With You

*Image Credits to rightful owners*

Bang Chan x reader; non idol AU; established relationship; fluff; midly suggestive at places

Word Count: 4.25k

A/N: A huge thank you to @youn9racha, for this super cute request. I am as much a sucker for road trips as I am for Chan, so I really enjoyed writing this!! I hope you like it as much as I did.

"Do you ever just want to pack your bags and run away in the night, without telling anyone?," you ask your boyfriend, Chan, as you both lay in bed one night. "That's an interesting question," he says, playing with your hair, "Though first I'd like to know what made you think of that." "Pfft. It's nothing too complex, Christopher. It's just a random thought that popped into my head," you say, while rolling your eyes at his inquisitive nature.

"Y/N, I know you, and I can sense that you've got something bothering that pretty head of yours, and making you want to run away. So tell me, what is it?," Chan speaks in a soothing tone, making you snuggle into his chest even more, while letting out a sigh. "It's just, work has been so crazy these past few days, and the pressures of the real world are getting to me. You remember when we were back in college? Whenever things got too hard, we used to go on road trips to clear our heads. Even a couple days away from the harsh real life were enough to rejuvenate us. I guess I just miss those times, now that real life responsibilities are wearing us down."

Once you're done with your little rant, Chan pulls your head up a little, making you look at him. He softly says, "Aww baby, I'm so sorry I didn't realize you've been struggling these past few days. I guess I've been too busy with my own work tonoticee. I know we're no longer in college, but I promise to you, that whenever the going gets tough, I'll do everything in my ability to help your through." "I know Channie, I know. I have you, and it's more than enough."

You give in to sleep after a while, and so, you fail to notice that Chan takes a little longer to fall asleep that night. He keeps thinking back on what you said earlier, carrying out an internal debate with himself. "Y/N is right. Work and responsibilities have taken a toll on us, and a road trip may be just what we need. But can we really afford to just 'run away?' There are too many projects, too many commitments. And we owe it to our colleagues to tell them that we will be away for a few days," he thinks to himself, before slowly drifting off to dreamland.

The next morning brings with itself a fresh hustle, but your face doesn't betray any sign of the frustrations you let come to the surface last night. But Chan knows better, and, seeing his reflection while getting ready for work, he realizes that his own expression mirrors yours. A thin veil to hide the fact that it's getting too much. At his office that day, he can't seem to focus on his work, since his mind keeps drifting back to your words. By the time the evening rolls around, he has made up his mind. He's going to run away with you, for a week anyway.

But a road trip needs some planning, and Chan wants this vacation to be the perfect little surprise for you. So, on his way home, he stops by at the convenience store to buy some essentials. Instant noodles, a few bottles of beer, disposable utensils, rental DVDs, he collects quite a few things, being reminded of your college days with each item he adds to his cart. In a moment of impulse, he even purchases a tent fit for two, and once he's done shopping, he hides everything in the boot of his car. You don't need to know of his plan, yet.

The following day, he leaves his office early, calling in a week's leave of absence due to some made-up reason. Instead of going home, he first drops by at your office. Not to meet you, but to get a similar application for leave approved on your behalf.

He finally heads back home to pack and ready a couple of things for your trip. "Y/N wanted to run away in the middle of the night, and that is what we'll do," he smiles to himself. When you come home, he remains tight-lipped about his little surprise for you, even though his excitement is trying to get the best of him.

Once the clock strikes twelve, he brings you out to his car, without telling you the reason. "Just please, come on! Don't you trust me?," he says, pouting. On his way out of the house, he picks up your phone from the couch, along the house keys. You don't notice this, however, as you're busy pestering him with questions. "Chan, why are we going out so late at night? What's going on? Tell me!" "You wanted to run away, right? Well, how about running away...... to the convenience store?," he smiles cheekily, making you giggle. "Gosh you're such a cheesy idiot," you say, getting into the car, still blissfully unaware of his intentions.

"Yeah, but I'm your cheesy idiot," he laughs, pressing his foot on the accelerator.

It doesn't take you long to realize that instead of driving over to the 24/7 close to your house, Chan has pulled onto the highway. You turn to look at him, only to see him smiling brightly, his eyes trained ahead. "Chan, what are you doing?," you ask, though feel like you already know the answer. "Running away with you," he says, taking your hand in his his, and bringing it up to his lips.

"What? But that was just a random rant! And what about work? We can't just disappear like that," you exclaim, to which, he only replies by giving you a knowing look. "Let me guess, you already informed our offices?" "Yes, and no," he quips. When you look at him quizzically, he elaborates, "I submitted applications for leave, making up some random excuse. So we have a whole week to ourselves." "But, what about essentials and supplies? We don't have anything to eat," you try to reason. He counters, "Babe, I've been planning this for two days, and I already stocked up on all our favourite snacks, drinks, and movies. I even got us a tent for days we want to sleep out in the open. I've got it all set, so don't you worry. The only thing I need you to do is to promise me that for the next seven days, you won't check your phone. I've already downloaded tons of songs and created at least 20 different playlists. You won't be getting any work-related messages, since I've taken care of that as well, and for directions, we'll take the traditional way, and ask around."

"Directions? Where exactly are we going anyway?," is your next question. To your surprise, he simply shrugs, before telling you that he doesn't have any specific place in mind. "Let's just wander away, going wherever the road takes us," he says, rather poetically, to which, you can't help but laugh. You then let out a soft sigh, making him look at you. "Sounds like a plan to me. Chan and Y/N, running away together, with no destination in mind," you smile, before reaching over and kissing his cheek.

"Let's play some music, shall we?," you ask, before hitting shuffle on the first playlist that pops up on your phone. You both settle in a comfortable silence, and soon enough, you begin to get drowsy. Chan notices this, and tells you to rest your eyes for a bit. "Promise to wake me up in like, two hours, so that I can take over the wheel," you yawn. "Okay fine bub, now sleep." Chan continues driving, occasionally stealing glances at your sleeping form. "How did I get so lucky?," he wonders, just like he does every day.

Morning finds you to be the one behind the wheel, as Chan naps contently in the passenger seat. The brightness of the sun finally wakes him up, and he realizes that you've left the highway, and are now driving through what appears to be the countryside. "I wonder where we're headed," he says while yawning. "Well, a signboard I saw earlier told me that we are somewhere in Jeonju," you reply. Instead of words, Chan's reply comes as a grumbling from his stomach. "Hungry," you quip, making him nod his head vigorously. You hit the breaks, before preparing some instant ramen for breakfast.

You eventually continue on your trip, and after a few hours, you find yourself in the midst of traditional Korean buildings, which seem to be from the Joseon dynasty. "Is this perhaps a tourist location?," wonders Chan loudly, making you reply, "Only one way to find out." You both get out of the car and do some asking around. You find out that the place where you houses the residences of the noblemen of old, and has now been converted into a shooting-cum-tourist spot. "Tourists can get traditional hanboks from that store, to complete the experience," an old woman tells you.

You turn to look at Chan, your eyes shining. Twenty minutes later, you exit the store, dresses from head to toe in a light blue hanbok. Chan's eyes nearly pop out when he sees you, and when he tells you the same, you can't help but blush.

You continue to hang around the place little while longer, and have dinner at a small eatery nearby.

"I feel like I'm 20 again. Thank you Channie," you say, holding his hand across the table. "Anything for you love," he winks.

Evening eventually comes around, and you guys hit the road once again. Around dinner time, you notice that you are crossing by a wood and supplies shop, and an idea strikes your mind. "Let's buy some wood and grill our meat!," you say excitedly, making Chan coo at how adorable you are. "Great idea babe. Let me park."

You quickly exit the car and visit the shop to buy some wood, then get started on your mini bonfire. It proves to be more difficult than you had thought, given how inexperienced the both of you are. In the end, you manage to get the fire going enough for the meat to be grilled, and turn around to ask Chan to bring in the eatables, when you see his face. It's completely covered in soot from his failed attempts at lighting the flame, making you double over in laughter. "You look so funny," you say while gasping for air. "Wouldn't be so funny if I got this soot on your face now, will it?," he retorts, coming after you. You try to run, but it's obviously in vain, as Chan grabs hold of you in under a minute. You both laugh harder than you have in months, and when you finally calm down, you give your boyfriend a tight hug. He hugs you back, and whispers, "I love you." "I love you too, Channie," you say, "Now go and get the meat, I'm hungry." "Way to ruin the moment, Y/N," he grumbles as you push him away.

After dinner, you walk up to the shop owner to thank him, and ask his permission to camp nearby. "It rained a few days ago, so the ground is still wet, and will be uncomfortable. But you can rent a room here for the night if you'd like," he offers. "That'll be great sir, thank you for the help." Chan says, coming up behind you. The shop owner gives you the keys to a room, and before leaving, says something that leaves you both red at the ears. "No funny business here, please. I know you both are young, and controlling yourself is hard. But I'd rather you didn't 'play around' unnecessarily on my bed."

You get changed and climb into the bed, snuggling up to each other. "First day down, babe," you smile with your eyes closed. When Chan doesn't reply, you open them, only to find your man staring at you with love in his eyes. "This is pure healing for me, thank you for suggesting this trip, love," he says. You talk about anything and everything for a while, and then suddenly, you feel Chan's soft lips pressing against yours. He gives you a sweet kiss, and pulling away, says, "About what the old man said earlier.....," while smirking. You shove his chest, saying, "We shouldn't," making him pout. "Although, making out doesn't count as 'funny business,' does it?" And that's enough to make him press his lips back to yours, moving so as to hover over you.

You wrap your arms around his back, pulling you closer to him. He licks your lower lip, making you part your lips and allowing his tongue to enter. After a while, you break away, only to grab his T-shirt and take it off his body, before wrapping your hands around his bare back. Needless to say, the two of you didn't get much time to sleep that night.

You get started on your way again the next day, and around mid-day, you see a milestone telling you that you are entering Iksan. The small town seems a lifetime away from your hectic lives in Seoul, and you spend the day going from shop to shop, buying small trinkets and stuff that are reminiscent of the country life. The residents welcome you with open arms, and more than once, you find an old couple telling you how cute you look together.

"He's a keeper, that one. Don't let him go," a lady says to you, pointing at Chan, who can be seen playing with some kids. "I won't," you smile.

That night, you stay over at a family's house, who were nice enough to allow you to sleep on their futon. You have dinner with them, during which the kid's ask Chan, "Are you two married?," making him choke on his food. "I'm sorry for that, they are learning about families and marriage in school these days," says their mother. "It's all right," you smile, "But no, we aren't married." "But do you plan on getting married soon?," the kids persist.

You and Chan look at each other and smile, before saying in unison, "Yes. One day."

The next morning you take the wheel from Chan, and the both of you drive of in silence, as High School Musical plays on your dashboard screen. After a while, you say, "What is it, Channie? You've been staring at me," "It's just that, you seem way too quiet. You've been like that since last night, after dinner," he replies, "What's the matter? Are you okay?" "I'm fine, just been thinking." "About?" "About us," you begin, elaborating when you see him looking at you expectantly. "When those kids asked us if we were married, it got me thinking.....I love being with you, I love waking up next to you. We live together any way, and share all the burdens that come with it too. So I guess...getting married to you wouldn't be so bad after all," you say softly.

"Is this your way of proposing to me?," giggles your boyfriend. "What? No! I mean, I did say it would be nice to get married, but I don't have a ring right now. And I meant it when I said 'one day,' but it's not today," you hurriedly say. Chan bursts out laughing at this, "I know love, I'm not ready yet either. But yes, if I have to get married, I'd rather marry you than anyone else."

Around noon, you decide to set up camp in a forest clearing. It takes you a few hours to get the tent up and ready, as you keep getting delayed because you can't stop fooling around. Amid Chan getting himself wrapped with the tent instead of unwrapping it, and you assembling the rods the wrong way up, you spend some not-so-productive, but enjoyable quality time in each other's presence, something you didn't know you had been craving for.

Evening rolls by, and you have a light dinner with ramen, some roasted chicken, and beer, following which, you lay down on a picnic mat, with your head on Chan's arm. "The stars look so beautiful, don't they Channie?," you softly ask. "Not as beautiful as you," he says cheesily, making you hide your face into his side. "But yeah, you're right. I really wanted to go stargazing with you, but we never got the time," he sighs. "I'm so happy we came on this trip, love." You open your mouth to speak, but just then, you notice a star shooting across the sky. "Channie! Channie get up, it's a shooting star!," you squeal, before closing your eyes and praying. Once you open them, you notice Chan looking at you with a gaze full of love. "Didn't you wish for something?," you ask. "I did," he smiles. "But what about you? What did you wish for?"

"Come closer Mr. Bang, I'm not about to announce my wish to the whole world," you whisper slyly. He leans in closer to you, only to have you say, "You don't tell others what you wished for," before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He smiles into the kiss, before breaking away and hugging you tight.

The next day turns out to be the last before you have to turn back homeward, and so, Chan suggests you make the best of it. "From what I know about the country's geography, we should be close to a beach somewhere here," he says, making you look at him with your eyes shining. "Too bad we're not going to get help from the GPS, but I'm really enjoying the phone detox," you smirk. "Who needs GPS when we've got people? Look there, we're gonna enter a city soon, so let's ask our way around," he replies. An hour and a half later, you come across a milestone that tells you the beach is a mile away. Once there, you look for a deserted spread of sand, keen on not getting stuck in an unnecessary crowd. "We face enough of that in the city, I just want to be alone with you," you whisper, taking his hand in his.

When you finally succeed in finding such a place, Chan giggles, "Good thing I packed our swimming gear as well, right?" "You did well sweetie," you say, booping his nose softly. After getting changed, you spend the next few hours playing in the water. Suddenly, Chan pulls you flush into his chest, and whispers in your ear, "You look so hot wearing that, and with water dripping down your body, I'm really finding it hard to stay away." "Then don't," you say, biting your lip. One thing leads to another, and you're thankful for the changing shack nearby.

By the time the sun starts to set, Chan has pulled you out of the water, and is making you dance with him on the sand, after bringing your phones and portable speaker from the car. Waltzing to the music, you shyly say, "I love you Channie," making him blush and reply with an "I love you too, my cute baby."

After dinner you climb atop the roof of your car, talking about your younger days. "You remember when we got into a huge fight once, back in college? And I was about to break up with you, only to have you whisk me away on a road trip, just like you did this time," you say, laying your head on his shoulder. "It did get you to stick around with me though," he replies, laying his chin on your head. "And you remember how we first met? You spilled your latte all over my T-shirt, and then took me to the infirmary to check for any burns," he reminds you, making you throw your head back in laughter. "You kept whining for a year over how you missed out on being the 'campus heartthrob' because of that incident, when in reality, you still were the most popular freshman," you jab a finger at his chest, smiling.

"Okay, I've got a secret. I wasn't actually sad about the campus heartthrob thing, since I already knew everyone was head over heels for me," he grins, making you punch his arm. "Hey! Let me finish first. I knew everyone loved me, but I only had eyes for you. And whining was just a tactic to get you to feel sorry for me and go on a date with me." You fake gasp at this, exclaiming, "Treachery! And here I thought you were genuinely sulky about that. do you have any idea how guilty I felt that whole year?!" When he simply states at you, unamused, you add through a pout, "I'm planning on revoking your cuddle privileges."

All of a sudden, you realize that Chan is moving over to lay on top of you, trapping you between him and the roof. "You know you can't resist me, babe. So don't even try," he says. "You are right about that," you say, pulling him for a kiss.

You both end up remaining awake till dawn the next day, and decide to start on your journey home around mid-way, after having napped inside the car for a few hours. You get started on your way just after noon, with Chan behind the wheel, and you eating (and feeding him) from a packet of gummy bears in the passenger seat. You re-enter the city you had seen earlier the previous day, and decide to spend some time roaming around. It's a fairly big city, but still much quieter and more peaceful than Seoul. You pass on visiting the mall, reasoning that you do so too frequently back home.

Soon enough though, you come across a store that displays a signboard saying, "Free wine tasting session for couples." You both look at each other, and with a smirk, Chan says what is on your mind. "Can't pass up on sophisticated wine for free now, can we?" You giggle and say, "Nope, absolutely not." And so, in you go. The session proves to be equal parts fun and educational. From the Chardonnay to the Pinot Noir, you go through with the tasting of at least 20 different types of wines. While you actually stick to the literal meaning of the word "tasting," drinking no more than a sip per drink, Chan goes all out, and not too long after, he's totally drunk. "Hey there beautiful, mind telling me your name?," he tries to act smooth with you, making you facepalm as you say, "I still get surprised about how low your alcohol tolerance is for your size," you shake your head.

Once you leave the tasting, half dragging, half carrying a wasted Chan who continuously tries to flirt with you, you decide to take the wheel and hit the road to the outskirts of the city, and cover the remainder of the trip once you're fully sober. When you cross over the city's borders and re-enter the road in the wilderness, you hit the brakes. You let Chan sleep, knowing that waking him up will only give him a hangover. Getting out of the car, you get yourself something to eat from the boot, and once you're full, you snuggle up to him, throwing a blanket over the both of you.

You wake up around nine at night, and as you had predicted, you see Chan holding his head in agony. You nurse him for while, before putting him back to sleep, then continue down the road. You keep sneaking glances at his sleeping form, smiling to yourself when you notice how peaceful he seems, something he hasn't looked like in ages. "We really needed this. Thank you for always knowing what I need, and for always taking care of me. I love you," you thank him silently.

When he finally wakes the next morning, he sees you huddled up in the driver's seat, and he can feel his heart swell with love for you. He gets out of the car, then picks you up and softly places you on the backseat so that you can rest well. Looking at your expression, he can easily see how content and truly happy you are. You are his reason to keep going, and if this little getaway idea of his could help you find your reason to keep going (unbeknownst to him, he himself is your reason to endure too), his heart is at ease. Sure, your week off is going to end soon, but he's positive that you will have rejuvenated yourself and would have gathered enough beautiful memories to last you a while.

Sure, going back to Seoul would mean going back to the hustle and bustle of your lives, but hey, he knows that that you by his side, he'd be ready to run away from home again any day, because his home is with you. But even more than that, he knows that with you by his side, life will be just a tad bit easier. Because you will always be there to remind him of who he was back in college. You will keep the young, carefree boy who loved you to bits, alive in him. And he'll do the same for you. And with that thought, he drives off into the distance, back to where you started from, with a smile on his face.

Because at the end of the day, you both have each other, and that's all that matters.

[revchainsaw]

Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind (1984)

Prayers and Salutations Cult Members! I am your mysterious minister Reverend Chainsaw and this is another nights revival service at the Cult Film Tent Revival. I bring you a special word tonight. Tonight's word is about a person who roamed the earth, in a time where people were backward and warlike. A leader emerged into a kingdom full of eschatological expectation. This leader came preaching peace, and was killed for the sins of the world, but was resurrected. In that resurrection a new hope was brought to the planet, and true healing through the power of love in the face of violence is made possible. I am talking of course about Princess Nausicaa from the Valley of the Wind.

The Message

Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind is the film that put studio Ghibli and Hayoa Miyazaki on the map. No animated feature this grandiose and epic had been achieved by 1984, as much as Disney may beg to differ. The tale may be simple, and it may feel super 80s to us today, but Nausicaa is a masterpiece, and the fact that Howl's Moving Castle is brought up alongside Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away more often than Nausicaa is a farce and a tragedy.

The film takes place on a fantastic planet that seems to have suffered the ravages of an apocalyptic war. A war that involved gigantic warriors with powers so devastating they about made the entire planet inhospitable if not uninhabitable; save for a few areas. The fall out of this ancient war has left the earth in a state of repair, where the natural processes of a planet healing has creating giant toxic jungles.

Beyond these jungles lie two imperialistic factions, they seem almost to be city-states but it's not terribly clear. The Kingdom of Tolmekia, a militaristic proto-fascist society of almost Spartan sensibilities. Tolmekia is governed by the ambitious and cynical Princess Kushana, But I like to call her Furiosa. Just like Furiosa, Kushana is physically missing parts of herself, a visual metaphor for her metaphysical lacking and the parts of her humanity she has cut away. Kushana's world view is one of fear, a fear that can only be quelled by waging a genocidal campaign against her enemies.

Speaking of enemies, the Athens to Tolmekias Sparta would be the Pejite Kingdom. The Pejites might like to view themselves as simply responding to Tolmekian aggression, but the narrative of the film, and the story told quite visibly on the body of Kushana, is quite different. The Pejites are just as bloodthirsty if not more palettable in their approach, but like the Tolmekians, they believe only their own lives have any value. And thus, in this theatre of war, a Giant Warrior from the ages before is unearthed by the Pejite Kingdom, Stolen by the Tolmekians, before the forces of nature themselves, seem to conspire to drop the Giant Warriors "egg" right into the Valley of the Wind.

The Valley of the Wind is populated like the world of Avatar the Last Airbender, that is mostly of children and the elderly. The people of the Valley have been able to remain untouched by the ravages of war and the toxic jungles of the damaged world primarily due to geographic luck that's explained in minor exposition in the film. They are ruled by a King, and they are all deeply enamored by their beloved Princess Nausicaa.

Nausicaa is a gentle soul. She is kind to animals, she is empathetic, unreasonably patient, and bears pain and grief inflicted on her out of cruelty with a saintly understanding. She really is a thinly veiled Christ figure, scratch that. There is no veil. But she's also my favorite Christ figure. She does not preach a message, as much as she tries to save everyone from their own short sighted goals. She is not perfect, she does lash out and do some fantasy sword fight murder, but she regrets her actions so deeply that it seems to have played a part in motivating her to become even more compassionate and patient with the evils of the world.

Nausicaa discovers yet another plot by the Pejites, who are afraid of the possibility of the Tolmekians awakening the Giant Warrior, to use animal cruelty to enrage a group of almost invincible giant insects known as the Ohm. By luring the Ohm into the Valley of the Wind where the Tolmekians have become an occupying force, they hope to completely wipe out everything that threatens them. The Tolmekians DO awaken the Giant Warrior and pure pandemonium ensues. Nausicaa manages to save the Baby Ohm and calm the rage of the bloodthirsty Ohm swarm, and to defeat the warlike tendencies of both the Pejites and the Tolmekians. All the while fulfilling a prophecy fortold about a messianic savior figure called the Man in Blue.

Now that you have heard the Gospel of Nausicaa, please stand to receive The Benediction.

Best Character: Half a Person

Now that I've spent the better part of this review gushing about our Lord and savior Nausicaa. I have to admit, she's at times a bit too perfect, a bit too saccharin. Even her flaw, or her one weakness and her failing to be perfect, just adds to the perfection. I can't even say she never makes mistakes cuz she made one, and that's infuriating. It's even more infuriating that I still think she's a great character. Normally this kind of thing really kills a hero. Most Chosen Ones are the most boring and least likeable characters in their narratives. I don't know how Nausicaa avoids this trap, but she does. I'll have to do some meditating on that.

However, just like in your typical Chosen One fantasy narrative, the hero is a lot less fun than the villain. I'm going to say the best character in Nausicaa is Kushana. I want to be like Nausicaa, but I don't understand her. She's almost alien, even though we learn all about her. Kushana is mysterious, secretive, and enigmatic, yet I understand her. She barely has an arc, she doesn't really change. She's cold and cynical to the bone, but I don't need to see much of her situation to completely understand why she is the way she is. I usually hate totalitarian bad guys, but Kushana I like. Sue Me.

Also fun fact, did you that Nausicaa means 'Sinker of Ships'. That's kinda fun.

Best Scene: Spoiled for Choice

I'm going to be lazy and say take your pick. There is really not a bad seen in this movie. If the action isn't going, then there's intriguing dialogue. If there's no dialogue then you may be about to get hit with a forceful burst of whimsy. There's horror, there's swordfights and aerial dogfights. The only thing in Nausicaa I don't like to see, is the bloody tortured Ohm Baby. It's like a god damned Sarah Mclachlan commercial.

Best Creature: Foxy Shazam!

The Ohm are so simplistic yet so detailed. The number of eyes is alien, but the way they are used is expertly expressive. Who'd think you could get me to love what basically amounts to a silverfish with the intensity that I love a kitten. How did Miyazaki pull an Okja with a creature that should be haunting our dreams? I don't know.

And what about the Giant Warrior! If you are an Evangelion fan then you probably already know that Hideaki Anno designed and animated the melting goopy biomechanical beast. Surely a sight that would make both H.R. Giger and Clive Barker giddy with excitement. Just the image of the silhouettes marching amidst the desolation of the old world is burned into my brain.

So which of these is the best creature from Ghibli's first outing? It's fucking Teto. It was always gonna be Teto you idiot. Just look at Teto, he's adorable. He's too cute to exist. I'm so alone. I need a pet.

Best Character Design: Tolmekian Regalia

I originally included this category to talk some about Kushana, however, at that time I also thought I was going to say Nausicaa was the best character. I thought hard about deleting it, but I think it's a different category and you can't accuse me of playing favorites because my favorite character is clearly Teto. Just to keep it simple. It's the two costume shift from full military regalia in white and gold, to the one metal arm, warrior princess get up. It's a great costume and a great look. Get on this shit cosplay nerds. It's great for Cons in Canada, you have to think about layers, and you can't keep going as Mr. Plow. It's lazy.

Best Excuse to Talk About Patrick Stewart's Character: Lord Yupa

I just realized that I was about to write this whole review without talking about Lord Yupa. Lord Yupa is a sword saint and all around badass I think a lot of entertainment, especially in the west is lacking bad ass old men. Lord Yupa particularly shines in the early half of the film as a warrior and as a wise council to Nausicaa. If she's Jesus then Yupa is John the Baptist. He is also voiced by the elegant and eloquent Patrick Stewart. He also comes with 2 chocobos!

Worst Character: For Whom Asbel Tolls

This might also be the worst actor category as well. Actual Cannibal (haha meme) and actual monster (haha real life) Shia Labeouf doesn't so much act in the role as he read the lines and it was recorded. The good news it doesn't effect the film too much because Asbel is completely forgettable. He is a catalyst to some of the action, but besides that I don't really care for him.

Worst Aspect: To Be Fair ...

It would be unfair to completely ignore anything negative about Nausicaa. I have already mentioned in many places that there are some pretty corny, or pretty predictable tropes to this movie. But what I can't capture in words is exactly why it feels fresh when it's done in this movie. I suppose that's what makes it good. It's just so good that it's weak points are lifted up by it's strengths. Some people may bored of Nausicaa's unyielding goodness, or that she very rarely chooses to take action as much as she chases and pleads with her surroundings, but I mean, she does pay for that eventually. It's a fantasy story and it hits a lot of timeless themes that have been hit in stories for as long as human beings have been telling stories. Some people may feel that it doesn't do enough to stand out.

Summary

I have defined the S tier for myself as "near perfect and personal favorite" films. I like to think that Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind is near perfect. Some may say that it looks like it might just be a personal favorite. In the case of Nausicaa, I'm having a very hard time telling the difference. I think it would be overly simple to claim that Nausicaa is just an ancient archetypal heroes journey with an 80s anime coat of paint. I think it's doing quite a few new and interesting things with that formula, those things are just playing out all around that narrative as opposed to being at it's center. For a first full length outing by the studio, you can really see Miyazaki's heart and the values he holds close to. I'll repeat myself so that we are completely clear on the matter. I think Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind is a near perfect movie.

Overall Grade: S

[ddaenggtan]

as we go along | myj [m]

pairing | min yoonji x reader

wc | 10.4k

genre | NSFW; Fluff, Smut, a dash of Angst bc why not

Four years ago, the beautiful stunning attractive frustrating Min Yoonji came into your life. Ever since, it’s been a competition between the two of you to win the HOA’s Holiday Decorating Contest. The fiery looks she gives you paired with the pointed insults throw you off your game every year, but not this time. This holiday season, you’re determines to win; and along the way you might just find that Yoonji’s been trying to win something else.

;OR the queer hallmark movie of your dreams.

warnings/tags | idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers, Awkward Gays, Idiot/Oblivious Gays, very strong language i think this MC curses almost as much as i do, oral (female receiving) x2, fingering, wall sex, theres like....a hint of body worship in that MC loves eating pussy bc lbr. what else could possibly compare to that. uhh side jinkook, as well as some side namyoonmin and some vhope if u squint real hard. hwasa and chungha are a lesbian power couple. OH The Min Twins aka Yoongi and Yoonji are siblings uwu

a/n |  this is 100% every single lesbian fantasy of my dreams because i just really love the ladeez and also min yoonji needs more characterization outside of 'stone cold butch domme' so uh. here ya go. i love ladeez so this is v self indulgent and also Super Gay. 

this is part of the 25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Anthology 

[Today]

Red bleeds into green and glitters magnificently on the snow. Lights and tinsel are strewn all over the yard of your parents’ house, creating a rather pretty collage of sparkles and swirls against the white backdrop. You wish you could appreciate it more. 

As it stands, however, you’ve been outside for hours untangling the decorative strands so that you can hang them on the gutters, eaves, and railings of the two story house behind you. Your mother had insisted you work inside but you know better. The cats - Mochi and Pablo - are your favorite in the world and you love them dearly, but one of their favorite things in the world has always been holiday decorations. The number of times you’ve had to stop them from chewing on lights of knocking the tree down is frankly ridiculous. So instead you’re unravelling everything so you can get started on what you’re sure is going to be your best year yet.

You’ve always loved decorating, of course, especially for the holidays. Getting up before dawn to go pick out one of the giant fir trees to stand in their living room, picking out new figurines for the Winter Village that sits on the mantle, helping your parents put ornaments on the tree. You love holiday decorating nearly as much as you love the feeling of victory in your chest. 

“If you had an organizer that wouldn’t take nearly as long,” says a voice from behind you. It’s melodic and deceptively sweet in spite of the lower register, and you don’t turn. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction. You don’t even respond, instead settling your gloved hands on your hips and eyeing the front porch so you can decide where to start. 

“Really? Ignoring me now? Tsk tsk, and here I thought you were better than being a sore loser.”

Continuing on your mission to pretend she isn’t there, you heft several yards of lights over your shoulder and head toward the ladder you have against the porch roof. You may as well start up high. 

“Interesting choice,” Yoonji mutters as she watches you. The hair on the back of your neck bristles, and you take a deep breath to calm and center yourself. “I’d heard that icicle lights were a bit last season, but I’m excited for this vintage look you’re going for. If you need more, let me know. I think the ones I used last year are still in the garage.”

“What do you want, Yoonji?” You huff, turning over your shoulder to glare at her. She looks entirely too at home in your yard with a steaming thermos in her mittened hands. 

“Just wanted to say hi. Wasn’t sure you were coming this year, considering how late you got in.”

“My flight was delayed for weather reasons,” you snap. 

“Ah. That’s why I always drive up instead.” There’s a pregnant pause that’s filled only with the huffs of your breath as you focus on the lights in front of you. “Oh, but you never got your license, did you? Ah, you should call me next year, we can carpool.”

“I got my license this past year,” You bite out. She doesn’t need to know that it took a few tries. It’s not your fault it makes you anxious to be behind the wheel. “Seriously. I have work to do.”

“Obviously,” Yoonji mutters. You flash her a glare and she just smiles back. “Just wanted to see how you were, if you needed any…” She pauses, eyes trailing over the explosion of decorations on your lawn with thinly veiled judgement in her eyes. “Help.”

“If I needed your help, I wouldn’t be winning this year’s contest.”

“By the looks of it, you aren’t winning this year’s contest anyway.” Her mutter doesn’t escape your notice. But that’s the real problem you have with Min Yoonji.

She’s sarcastic and blunt and kind of intimidatingly hot, but you can handle that. You are a strong, independent queer woman in the modern age and you are not about to let some random lesbian intimidate you, no matter how much you kind of wanted to fuck her in the past. Yoonji is not a problem for you. 

It’s the way she’s constantly putting you down, giving you backhanded compliments, and generally acting like she’s better than you. While winning your parents’ neighborhood’s annual Holiday Decorating Contest that their local Homeowner’s Association runs. Everyone gets a kick out of the friendly competition, the winners get a gift certificate to a Korean BBQ place, and a good time is had by all. 

Except you. 

Because you’ve made it your mission to win - to beat the current reigning champion of the past three years who stands on your lawn sipping what smells like hot cocoa and silently judging your decor choices like she didn’t put a massive inflatable pumpkin on the roof for Halloween. 

She watches you the entire time you hang up the lights, carefully attaching them to the edge of the awning covering the front porch. It isn’t until your father pulls into the driveway and you’re done with the upper half completely - about to start the railing - and descending the ladder one careful step at a time that she speaks again. 

“Those are hanging too low,” She tells you. She doesn’t seem to mind when you ignore her in favor of wrapping lights around the stair banister. 

“Hey there, Yoonji!” Your father calls as he starts to unload the groceries. “What brings you to this part of town?” They both laugh at the joke and you force back a gag. 

“Just hanging out,” She calls back. “Making sure your daughter doesn’t break her neck for some silly competition. You need help with those?” Your dad waves her off. 

“I’m not that old, but thank you. Besides, it looks like you’re needed elsewhere.” He gestures with one bag-laden hand, and both you and Yoonji turn. 

A large SUV pulls into the driveway across the street; the passenger door swings open before the vehicle even stops, and a girl - woman, really - launches herself out of the car. She’s across the street in record time, nearly tackling Yoonji to the snow with the force of her hug. Both look excited to see each other, a rare smile on Yoonji’s face that makes you burn with something that doesn’t feel quite like the usual rage. 

The two are talking rapidly in your front lawn, too harried and chaotic for you to make out much of anything besides the fact that they missed each other. They look comfortable with each other in a way you’ve never been and you force yourself to remember that you don’t care . Even as you eye the way the newcomer’s hand sits just that little bit too low on Yoonji’s back. 

The sounds of car doors closing and snow crunching draws your attention and you’re shocked to see another gorgeous girl making her way over. She looks as excited as the first, yet more subdued about it. 

Likely because they’re on a lawn that decidedly does not belong to them, but you could be wrong there. 

Both of the women are absolutely gorgeous, though, easily model material. The first has artfully styled dark hair that falls in perfect waves down her shoulders, and is delightfully curvy in all the places the world loves. Her cheekbones are to die for, makeup flawless, and you resist the urge to pluck at your own outfit, chosen for warmth over style. 

The second woman is no different; not quite as thicc, as Jimin would say, but the figure suits her, as does the straight platinum hair that hangs down to her lower back. It’s stark against the black of her expensive-looking coat, and it only adds to the energy she carries that draws you in even as you wish it wouldn’t. 

“Oh, how rude of me! These are my neighbors,” Yoonji says after a minute. You don’t miss the way she hesitates saying your name, or the almost predatory smiles the other two women get. 

“So you’re the one,” The dark-haired one says. You don’t get a chance to question it before the blonde cuts her off. 

“I’m Chungha,” She says with a friendly smile. “And this is Hyejin.”

“My friends call me Hwasa, though,” The brunette adds. “We hate to tear her away but it’s been ages since we’ve seen our girl.”

“You saw me like two weeks ago,” Yoonji mutters. You’re too caught off-guard by anyone calling Yoonji their ‘girl’ to respond, but you don’t miss the way her cheeks tinge pink from something that isn’t the cold. 

“So we’re gonna steal her away now,” Hwasa continues, oblivious. You don’t protest, letting your father chat amicably while they say their goodbyes and you look between the girls. 

Hwasa’s hand is still lingering on Yoonji’s lower back, something neither of them seem bothered by. That’s something that friends do, though, right? Jimin squeezes your ass constantly and the two of you definitely aren’t together. 

You hear your name and a question but you can’t seem to really focus beyond a mumbled agreement to whatever you were asked. The way Chungha’s eyes glance over her companions feels like something more, but you can never really be sure. Not in this day and age.

But when they head back across the road to Yoonji’s house, Hwasa doesn’t hesitate to lace their fingers together. Yoonji lets her do it, and the glimpse of the grin and the flushed cheeks you see make your heart clench. 

Paired with the way Chungha eyes the pair as she follows behind - a decidedly more than friendly gaze - and every alarm in your brain is going off. She looks ready to jump them both the second they get in the door. 

“I’m impressed,” Your father says. 

“I’m not done yet,” You tell him, turning back to the decorations sprawled across the lawn. “I’ve still got to-”

“No, no,” He interrupts. “Not the decorations. That you’re finally making strides to be nicer to Yoonji.” You stare blankly at him, not understanding what part of your attitude towards her said anything about being nicer. 

And anyway, why shouldn’t she be nicer to you?

“The party…?” You blink at his words, looking in all respects like a startled rabbit. “The annual Min family holiday party? That they just invited you to? The one that you said you would attend?”

“I’m sorry, I did what. ”

“It just happened, sweetheart. I was standing right here for the entire thing.”

“No,” You tell him firmly. “No, because I would remember telling Min fucking Yoonji that I was going to her stupid holiday party.”

Your father just shakes his head. “Then perhaps we ought to get you a doctor’s appointment, sweetie, because I watched it all happen not five seconds ago.” He pats your shoulder, doing his best to show his solidarity for your sudden idiocy, and makes his way inside. 

You spin to watch him go, all the potential protests and complaints clogging together in your throat and leaving you silent. He gets to the bottom step before you’re storming angrily back to your decorations, because whatever , you’ll go to the stupid party. 

Yoonji can have her dumb holiday party with those overhyped cookies your father always raves about. She can have her caroling and her sing-a-long that your mother adores. She can even have her two super hot model girlfriends, because you’re a modern woman, and sometimes that’s what a relationship is. Whatever. It’s her prerogative. You don’t care. It is not going to affect you, or your decorating, at all. 

You scream a little when the icicle lights you so carefully hung knock against your father’s head on his way inside. 

[Three Years Ago]

“You look like you’re struggling,” a voice says behind you. 

They aren’t wrong, either. You’re balanced precariously atop the porch roof your parents’ new hours, hanging garland off the edges so your dad doesn’t have to do it himself. 

You turn to see who’s talking to you - especially since you don’t actually know anyone, this being your first visit to the neighborhood - and very nearly have to hold on to the edge beside you to stop yourself from falling off. 

The man that stands on your parents’ front walkway is easily the most beautiful you’ve seen - a casual elegance to his stance that you’ve not seen outside of celebrities. His leather jacket looks warm and comfortable while remaining stylish, and the all-black underneath suits him while highlighting the lithe form. All of it is perfectly complemented by the mop of jet-black hair tucked under a knitted beanie, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of neighborhood your parents have moved to, when models are just walking around the streets. 

“Uh…” You would kick yourself for sudden ineloquence if you thought you could without falling straight on your ass. The guy bites back and obvious smile, ducking his head for a moment to do so. 

“I haven’t seen you around before,” He calls as he looks back up at you. “Did you move in recently?”

“No, I don’t live here.” He raises a brow and you huff. “It’s my parents’ place. I’m just doing their decorating for them.” The guy nods and starts to say something else, but he’s cut off before he can. 

“Jimin-ah, what are you doing?” You look back to the garland as someone else walks up, some girl based on the quick glimpse you get while tugging on a strand that doesn’t want to untangle. You give them some semblance of privacy as the guy - Jimin - relays to her everything you’ve said so far. It only strikes you as a little odd that he’s being so detailed; she could be a jealous girlfriend, for all you know. 

“Oh,” the girl says, tone as dry as the dead leaves piled in the corner of the yard, “Is this supposed to beat me somehow?”

“Yoonji,” Jimin scolds under his breath. 

“Sorry,” You say, standing up to your full height. It’s a considerable distance considering you’re still on the porch roof. “But what is that supposed to mean? Is there some kind of competition I don’t know about?”

“Oh,” Yoonji repeats, surprise evident in her voice this time as she eyes you. You take the opportunity to do the same, and you’re glad the nip in the air already turned your cheeks pink because fuck. 

Yoonji’s god damn gorgeous. She’s slightly taller than the average girl, even in the winter boots she’s wearing, but she wears the height well; her shoulders are straight and her chin has a natural upward tilt to it, like she’s used to looking down at people in more ways than one. She’s not dressed fancy - just thick leggings and an oversized sweater - but she looks like she belongs in a commercial or something. Her hair is similar to Jimin’s - pitch black and soft - but hers is glossier, more like a cat’s coat; her cheeks are pink from the cold, her lips are slightly parted and invite too many thoughts about if they’re as soft as they look, Even in such casual circumstances, she’s radiant, even as she says-

“That explains a lot.”

It takes a second longer than you’d like to admit for your brain to resume function, but when it does, you huff with indignation. 

“Excuse me?” You hiss. “What, are my decor choices not good enough for whatever this competition is?”

“No,” Yoonji says slowly, cocking a brow, and you see red - and it isn’t the lights from the house across the street. You don’t even let her continue before you’re defending yourself.

“Well I’m sorry that not all of us can decorate like they just stepped out of...of…Better Homes And Gardens, or some shit like that. Some of us focus more on making sure we like our decorations and that they actually mean something instead of just doing things for the aesthetic .”

Yoonji mutters something under her breath but you can’t make it out; it’s lost among the breeze that kicks up and the soft sound of laughing that Jimin is trying desperately to muffle. You huff a little and return to your mission of dragging the garland up on top of the roof, a new determination filling your chest. 

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be doing this?” Yoonji asks, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a brow. You freeze. You can hear Jimin’s quiet inhale, and when you look up, he’s got his lips puffed out like that meme of that guy doing the duckface. You let your hand rest on your hips and give this girl the best glare you can - which you have to admit is quite powerful when you need it to be. 

Like now, when this random super hot girl is judging you for being single and also assuming you’re interested in men. The nerve of her. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” You tell her firmly. She frowns a little, and you wish the expression wasn’t so cute. 

“Why not?” 

You scoff. “ Because,” You tell her firmly, “Not only am I happy by myself and don’t need someone else to be complete, I happen to prefer women. You may be happy with a member of the opposite sex,” You wave at where she and Jimin stand close together and return to trying to pull up the piece of garland that’s probably stuck on something, “But I tend to lean the other way.”

Yoonji just arches a perfect brow at you, but she at least doesn’t bust out laughing like Jimin does. 

“Oh man,” He says, wiping tears from his eyes as he stumbles forward, “Imagine looking at us and thinking we’re straight. Oh my god, imagine, can you believe-”

“So why don’t you have a girlfriend doing this then?” Yoonji asks. Her cheeks are a little redder, but you’re pretty sure it’s just from the cold. “Wouldn’t it be better?”

“Because I’m a strong,” You heave another string of garland up, “Independent,” heave, “Woman!” You give one last tug on the garland and it flies loose, sending you landing back on the flat of your ass atop the porch roof. It doesn’t hurt too bad other than the fact that you can see a smile playing on Yoonji’s lips and your pride has already taken a few hits. 

“Well then,” Yoonji says, patting Jimin’s arm and stepping back, “We’ll stop distracting you, Miss Independent.” She and Jimin walk across the street, and you pretend not to notice the way she looks back every so often. 

[Today]

“No, it needs to be taller.”

“Sweetheart if it’s any taller, it won’t fit in the house.”

You send your mother a frustrated glance and shake your head. “It will, it just needs to be the right height and shape.”

“Why can’t we just get a fake tree? They’re so much easier to move and put together, wouldn’t that be better?”

“No,” You hiss, scandalized. “Real trees are better overall for the environment, not to mention how you can’t manufacture the smell of pine trees that come with them that set the entire atmosphere. Plus this nursery uses the profits to plant more trees both here and in areas that suffer with deforestation. It’s for a good cause.”

“And that’s why we had to get here at five in the morning?” Your mother asks sarcastically. 

“Yes,” You reply firmly, “Because otherwise all the good trees will be gone and we’ll be forced to choose from the leftovers.” Your mother mumbles something else under her breath, but you don’t hear it. You’re distracted because there it is. The perfect tree.

You’re two steps away from your perfect tree - tall, evenly spaced, full branches, well balanced, with the perfect shade of evergreen - when you hear her. 

“It’s over here,” Yoonji’s voice echoes. “I need the perfect tree, and it’s the best one I’ve found in years.”

You ignore the way your mother lights up and shush her when she tries to call out to Yoonji. You listen closer; your nemesis is still talking, something about needing a tree for someone - which, who leaves tree shopping to the last minute? The only reason you’re here is that you got in late because of the weather - but her voice is definitely getting closer. 

Panicking, you look at your tree. If Yoonji sees it, it’s definitely over. It’s perfect, there’s no way she’ll want any other, and what Yoonji wants, she gets. 

The only real explanation for what happens next is that you’re running on four hours’ sleep and Yoonji tends to make you a little stupid. 

“Get the other side,” You whisper to your mom. She stares at you and doesn’t move. “Hurry up, before they get here!”

Your mother watches for a few seconds as you wrap your arms around the tree, getting pricked in the face with pine needles as you do, and start to tug. It’s a heavy tree, and it’s only just started to shift when the voices get closer. 

“Seriously?!” You exclaim in a harried whisper to your mom. “Not even a push?!”

“You’re trying to steal a tree,” Your mother says. “From a nursery that gives to charity. I’m not helping with that.”

“I’m gonna pay for it later!” Your mother sighs and starts pushing halfheartedly on the other side of the tree.   

“Shit, no, I meant-” Your words are cut off by a grunt as you manage to catch the tree before it falls entirely. It’s heavy against your shoulder, and of course that’s when Yoonji turns the corner, followed by the broadest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. Both stop in their tracks at the sight of you. 

“Hey Seokjin.” You say, faking a laugh. “How are you? Haven’t seen you this year. Business good?”

“Yeah,” He says, cocking a brow, “When people don’t try to run off with our trees.”

“Who? Me? I would never!” The tree starts digging into your shoulder and your legs tremble. “I just thought I’d load it up for you, y’know, save you the trouble.”

“Oh did you?” There’s amusement in Seokjin’s voice as he fiddles with his ring. “You know our policy, you have to pay before loading.”

You start to stammer out some bullshit about him being busy but you’re only halfway through the excuse when Yoonji says your name.

“It’s alright,” the woman says with a bored voice. “She was loading it up for me. That’s the tree I was coming to show you anyway.”

The weight finally overtakes you, and you crumble under it. You manage to twist so that nothing important is trapped under the trunk, but you get a faceful of needles for your efforts. 

“Maybe you should do it, though, Jin,” Yoonji says. “It looks a little much for the poor dear.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin huffs. He pulls the tree off of you with what looks like little effort, hefting it over his shoulder so the base drags the ground. “Where are you parked, Yoonji?”

“Load it onto their car,” Yoonji responds. Both you and your mother stare at her in shock. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“Oh, well isn’t that sweet of you,” Your mother coos. She points the way to Seokjin and the two head off, chatting amicably as they go. 

You narrow your eyes at Yoonji where she stands, not even offering to help you up from the snow where you still lay.

“What’s wrong with it?” You ask. All she does is quirk a brow. “The tree. Why are you giving it to me? You wouldn’t unless there was something wrong with it. So what is it? Termites? Leaking too much sap? What?”

Yoonji shrugs. “You wanted it,” She says simply. Your blood boils, and she steps back like she doesn’t even notice. 

“You aren’t even going to help me up?” You call as she starts to walk away.

“Good try, Miss Independent,” She calls back. “I think Jungkook’s still in the office if you need him.”

You half-scream a growl as you flop your head back into the snow. A pout forms as you watch the sky start to color with the sunrise. 

You’re going to have to throw away your perfect tree.

[Two Years Ago]

It’s the day of the contest. You’re confident in your decor choices this year, even if you couldn’t get every single thing you had in mind, you decide as you wander the neighborhood to scope out the competition. Last year you went simple and got second place, and you’ve switched it up this year. All out with the best decorations possible. 

You’re going to win. Losing isn’t an option, not again. Not when you were beat by her. 

It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself as you turn the corner onto your parents’ street. Your decorations are as good as they can be. 

Your mood sours a little when you see a figure in the yard across from yours, but the soft beanie and oversized hoodie cheer you up once you notice them. 

“Yoongi!” You call with a smile. The man turns and gives you a gummy grin. “I didn’t know you were in town!”

“Yeah, we got in late last night. Kinda crashed once we did. Then someone dragged us all out to the store early this morning.” He rolls his eyes and you laugh. 

“Well the house looks good. Not as good as mine, obviously,” You tease, “But good.”

“Yeah, you might win this year. Yoonji’s got some good competition.”

You sniffle a little, doing your best to contain your distaste for his twin. 

The Min twins, nearly identical save for the fact that they aren’t the same gender, are easily the best and worst things about the neighborhood. Worst because of that pompous priss Yoonji, obviously. 

Best because Min Yoongi is one of the sweetest people you’ve ever known even if he is a bit shy. You met him last year, when he’d carried in an obscene amount of groceries for your mother and you’d almost mistaken him for his sister. You’d made him coffee to say thanks, the two of you talked, and you’ve been friends ever since. 

“No Jimin?” You ask him. He gestures vaguely to the roof, where you can see a small blue hat bopping around. “Ah. I take it you aren’t finished yet, then.”

“Do you know any other reason my sister would have my boyfriend on the roof?” You share a grin with him as you both watch a strand of lights fly off somewhere. “Apparently she needed to make some last minute adjustments. That’s why she dragged us all out to the store, to hunt down some stuff for her.”

“Oh, did you happen to see one of those big dancing snowmen? The one that plays music, you can control it all from your phone? I looked everywhere and couldn’t find one, it’s the one thing I was missing. Had to use an inflatable yeti instead.” Yoongi frowns. 

“Huh, how weird. That’s what we were-”

“I got it all ready, it just needs to be plugged in.”

Yoonji strides out from the house - looking as good as ever in some plaid pants, how dare she - and stops dead when she looks up and sees you. 

“What are you doing here?” She snaps, and you scoff. 

“Visiting a friend,” You respond with a nod towards Yoongi. You take a glance at the phone in her hand, then up to where you can see Jimin standing up a snowman. “Did you seriously steal my idea?!”

“What? No.”

“Really. Because I distinctly remember telling Jungkook about this yesterday while I was picking up my tree and you were right beside him talking to Seokjin. I was even going to put it on the roof so everyone could watch it dance to Pentatonix covers.”

“Like I would listen when you talk,” Yoonji says. Yoongi sighs but you can barely hear it over the flood of rage. 

“Y’know what? Get fucked,” You tell her as you storm out of their yard and back to your parents’ house. 

“I guess you won’t be coming to the holiday party then?” She calls over the road. You send her a rather vulgar hand gesture in return that you hope your parents don’t see. By the time you get inside, the snowman is playing a Mariah Carey Christmas song and you kind of want to set it on fire. 

You do not win the competition that year. 

[Today]

Maybe you should have listened to your parents when they said not to drive today. Probably you should have taken the big ass truck that your father keeps in the garage specifically for when the weather is bad, because it’s got that fancy four wheel drive and traction control and all sorts of stuff meant to keep people safe in the middle of floods and monsoons and blizzards. You definitely should have remembered to charge your phone before you left the house.

Especially considering that your car isn’t great in the snow now falling gently from the sky to land on your hood, mixing with the smoke pouring out from under it. 

You’re lucky you managed to drift to the side of the road and get your hazard lights on, but that’s where said luck runs out. Your phone is dead, it’s several miles back to the house, even further than that to town, and the temperature is already dropping into dangerous territory. 

You’ve been sitting here for three hours, though, tucked inside the residual warmth of your car with spare blankets wrapped around you as you watched night fall. You’re not sure what else you can do. There aren’t any wild animals around here, or anything like that, but it’s definitely too dangerous to trek back to the house. 

“I should’ve just walked back earlier,” You groan as you bundle the blankets closer. “At least it was warmer then. Stupid car, stupid car, stupid me , didn’t charge your stupid phone, how dumb am I.”

Your tirade against yourself continues for several minutes and includes a few very crafty curses that would make your mother gasp. You’re in the middle of another when lights shine into your mirrors, nearly blinding you. 

The lights slow and come to a stop behind your car. A door shuts and you scramble to exit, ready to get on your knees and beg whoever it is to give you a ride to literally anywhere that has heat. 

It takes a second too long for you recognize the shiny purple jeep and the elegant black peacoat backlit by the headlights, and by the time you do, she’s already got an angry snarl on her face. 

“What the fuck are you doing out here?” She demands. You shiver in response and glare at her. 

“Oh, just hanging out, thought I’d take a little nap beside the road in the freezing cold, the usual y’know,” You bite back. She rolls her eyes and starts back towards her jeep. You frown, watching her, and she stops with one foot inside and her hand on the door. 

“What are you waiting for?” She asks. You shrug, and she huffs. “Get in the fucking car, I’m taking you home before you turn into an icicle.” You don’t move and her frown deepens. “Fine, but if you die out here, I’m not the one that’s going to tell your parents it was because you were too stubborn to accept a ride.”

Guilt gnaws at you, and with a frustrated huff, you stomp your way over to the passenger side of her jeep and climb inside. 

She’s careful as she drives, you notice. Long fingers wrapped tight around the wheel, jaw tensed so hard it could be stone, and one arm leaned against the window after she’s finished turning the heat up as high it will go. 

It’s not even been five minutes when she tosses a thick, fleece-lined blanket at you. You look at her, ready to be pissed off, and she cuts you off before you can complain. 

“Your teeth are chattering so loud that I can’t hear myself think. Try not to get hypothermia before we get there, okay?” You huff a disbelieving laugh but curl into the warmth of the blanket anyway. It feels almost too-warm, like when you pull clothes out of the dryer, but it’s a comfort against your freezing skin. 

“Why are you even here? You aren’t heading back from town, you’re not heading to town. Do you just drive around looking for lost girls?” 

“No,” She says carefully, hand tightening around the wheel. It’s all she says for a full minute before she sighs. “Your parents got worried.”

“What?! ”

“They said you went to town to pick up some salt for the sidewalk and drive, and that it had been hours, and that they hadn’t heard from you again even though you took your phone. They were scared that something had happened, so I…”

Your sarcastic response dies on your tongue when you look at her. Really look. 

Her shoulders are tense and set, in a way you haven’t seen before. Her brows are creased, and the pretty lips you refuse to acknowledge are set in a thin line and turned down at the corners. There’s something fizzling in the air between the two of you, something new and unknown.

“...Were you worried about me?” You ask quietly. She shoots you a look and then laughs, a second too late with not enough amusement. 

“Drink that,” She says, gesturing to a thermos. “It’s coffee, it’ll help you warm up a little.” You take the thermos, thoroughly enjoying the warmth it provides your hands, and take a sip. You don’t know why, but you’re surprised when it’s the exact way you like it. You shoot her a thoughtful look, wondering just how else she might surprise you. 

The rest of the ride is quiet, only the lull of the engine and the tires. Neither of you talk much; perhaps because she’s too angry, but you’re too distracted by your own thoughts to say much. 

There’s no way, right? The two of you hate each other, you have since you met. It tints all your interactions, colors every single conversation where either of you are even mentioned, it’s one of the basic facts of the universe. 

So why, as Yoonji pulls into your parent’s driveway and smiles at where they stand watching from the window, do you have a feeling like maybe you’re wrong?

[One Year Ago]

“Really? Inflatables?”

You scowl and turn, already prepared. There stands Yoonji, arms crossed. The weather is fairly mild for the season, and she’s taking advantage of that. High waisted shorts, an off-the-shoulder top, lace-up boots, leather jacket, she looks like every rebellious lesbian you’ve ever dreamt about, and it only makes you hate her more. 

“Yes, inflatables. Because some of us like a little fun. Besides, you stole my dancing snowman last year, and I wanted something you aren’t going to rip off.”

“I didn’t steal your-”

“Whatever,” You interrupt, not wanting to even bother to listen. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

She starts to say something else, but the slam of the front door cuts her off. You turn and grin, waving. 

“Tae! C’mon, put it over here!” 

Taehyung smiles and makes his way over, inflatable deer in his hands. Yoonji’s silent as he gets there and sets the animal where you direct. When he’s finished he turns to you, boxy smile and all, to make sure he’s good, and glances at Yoonji. 

“Oh, you didn’t say you had a friend over,” He whines. “Now I’m being rude. Hi, I’m Kim Taehyung.”

Yoonji doesn’t answer, merely eyes with distaste the hand he’s got extended. 

“Right. Well then, I’m gonna go get the fawn, alright? Be right back.” He smiles at you, and you watch as he jogs back into the house.

“I thought you only brought Namjoon with you this year.” You turn at Yoonji’s words. 

“No, Tae came as well. It’s a good thing, too, because Joon is utterly useless now since he met Yoongi and Jimin. Little punks stole my best friend.” You’re only mostly kidding. You’re happy for Namjoon - he’s been somewhat lonely these days, and now he’s got not one but two handsome men vying for his affection. 

It does reinforce your own loneliness, though. 

“I thought you liked girls.” You look back at Yoonji and notice she’s got a small pout on her face. It’s cute. 

“I do like girls.”

“Then why is Taehyung here?” The way she says his name is full of spite, and it makes you laugh. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that I had to get your permission when I want to bring my friends and loved ones up to visit my parents for the holidays.” You adjust the inflatable deer, posing it so that it looks like it’s glaring at Yoonji’s house in anger. 

Taehyung comes back out before Yoonji can say anything. He’s got his jacket off now, and he does look good in the simple white shirt and the headband that makes his hair look even fluffier than usual. You just really can’t focus on anything but the inflatable fawn he’s got tucked under one arm and the matching rabbit tucked under the other. 

Yoonji’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, and you roll your eyes. 

“You need another deer,” She spits before she turns around and stomps back to her house. Taehyung shoots you a look. 

“I take it that’s Yoonji, then,” He says with a laugh. You make a puking sound and he tuts at you. “You’re supposed to be nice. That is not nice.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t steal your dancing snowman, did she?”

Across the street, you can see Yoonji fuming as she stands on the porch, talking to Yoongi about something or other. They both look over and while your first instinct is to turn around like you haven’t been watching them, you resist. Instead, you give Yoongi a bright wave. He doesn’t return it but his frown lessens slightly, though that could be because Jimin stumbles, laughing, out of your parents’ house with Namjoon not far behind him. 

Both of them have hearts in their eyes, and it only gets worse when they look at Yoongi. 

“That’s disgusting,” Taehyung says with a wrinkle of his nose. “Eugh, they’re so couple-y and gross. Remind me not to come next year if Namjoon’s here.”

“Oh no,” You tell him with a grin as you wrap him in a hug. He’s warm and solid against you, as he always is, and you thoroughly enjoy it. “If I have to struggle, you do too.”

“Fine,” He whines dramatically. “But I’m bringing Hobi so he has to suffer, too.” You laugh and set him to work organizing the inflatable animals. There are eyes on your back the entire time, but you refuse to turn around and give Yoonji the satisfaction. 

Especially once you realize that you do need another deer to make it look balanced and perfect.

[Today]

The holiday party is well underway by the time you arrive at Yoonji’s, however reluctantly you do so. Your mother and father disappear almost immediately, sucked into conversations with people they’ve known for years now; Tae and Hobi are tucked into a corner, nursing glasses of cider while they look at the rather extensive Winter Village display on the Mins mantle; Namjoon has been here for hours already, and is no doubt locked away in Yoongi’s room with the man himself, and Jimin, and you choose to believe that they’re having some philosophical discussion and not doing anything else. 

You think you catch a glimpse of Jungkook amidst the people from the neighborhood, but by the time you get to where he was, there’s no sign of him, or the broad-shouldered man he’s usually with. Abandoned in the kitchen, you pour yourself some cider and spike it with a hint of rum, just to get you through the night. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” A voice says. 

When you turn, you find Hwasa perched on the countertop, Chungha leaning back between her legs. Both are watching you curiously, and both look absolutely fantastic in figure-hugging dresses and tights and heeled boots. They look like they just stepped off a runway, but the look in their eyes feels more like a panther than a model. 

“What boyfriend?” You ask eventually. 

“Tall, great chest, soft hair,” Hwasa says. When you just stare at her, she smiles a little. “Boxy smile.”

“Oh, Tae?” You laugh a little. “He isn’t my boyfriend. I’m not even interested in him like that, he’s just my best friend.” The two women share a look and Chungha kisses her cheek before heading out of the room. Hwasa eyes you and you have the distinct feeling you’re being judged. 

You thought you looked okay when you picked out the simple but nicer outfit; black sweater, maroon skirt, tall black boots. It’s classy but casual. You’re sure of it. 

At least you were. 

“So tell me about this thing with Yoonji,” Hwasa eventually says. You nearly choke on your cider. 

“I mean...there’s not much to tell. We’ve hated each other ever since we met four years ago.”

“Oh?” Something lights up in her eyes that you don’t particularly like. 

“Look, no offense to you or your girlfriend, Yoonji’s just...kinda mean for my tastes. I guess some people are into that.”

“Elaborate.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and you find yourself explaining before you can stop. You tell her nearly everything, about all the shit Yoonji’s done to you, and by the time you’re finished, she’s actually smiling.

“Like...I’m sure you love her and all, otherwise you wouldn’t be dating her, but-”

“What? ” She nearly falls off the counter, she’s laughing so hard, and when you start to help steady her, she just waves you off. “No, sweetie, I’m dating Chungha, not Yoonji.”

“I thought you were dating both of them? Did you all break up?”

“Oh my god , she wasn’t kidding,” Hwasa says breathlessly, still fighting back giggles. “Holy shit, this explains so much. Ha, oh my god, no, we never were dating Yoonji, she’s just our best friend. Like you and that Taehyung guy?”

“Oh.” You feel foolish; it makes sense, friends can be just as physically close as romantic partners. You and Taehyung are proof enough of that. “I...just assumed…”

“I know, but you’re definitely wrong. You drink more cider, stew on that, maybe rethink things from another perspective, I’ve got to tell Chungha about this, it’s too good.” Hwasa hops off the counter with ease and disappears out the door before you can ask her to explain what she means about other perspectives. You can hear giggles as they slowly drown in the chatter of the party and the soft carols playing over the speakers. 

You stay in the kitchen for a while, nursing your cider and thinking. If Yoonji doesn’t have two model-hot girlfriends, then could you have been onto something in the jeep that night? You’ve hated her for so long, and assumed that she hates you in return, but if you were wrong about the girlfriends, then maybe you’re wrong about that, too. 

Something enters your vision and you look up, nearly spitting out your drink as you do. 

Yoonji stands in front of you, in a slinky green velvet dress that she keeps tugging the bottom of. It doesn’t look like anything she usually wears, down to the floral lace tights and the wedge heels that make her even taller than she already is, and she looks slightly uncomfortable if the burn in her cheeks is any indication. 

The worst part is that she looks good. Like, good good. It suits her, even if it isn’t her usual style, and for once you can’t deny the attraction swirling within your stomach. 

“What are you wearing?” She asks angrily, glaring down at your clothes like they kicked her dog - whom you have not seen tonight, which is a travesty, because you adore Holly. A cough echoes from somewhere behind the two of you, and Yoonji wrinkles her nose. “I mean...I like...your outfit.”

You quirk a brow at her and set your cider down on the counter nearby. “Really? Because it looks like you want to tear it off and then set it on fire.” Something complicated happens with her expression and a spark ignites in your mind. 

“Are you sick?” She asks. Her face does something else complicated as a groan echoes from nearby, and something painful twists in your stomach. You really didn’t think you looked that bad. “I mean, after the other day. With the snow. And the cold. Are you sick?”

“Is...this your way of telling me I look ill?” You ask her. She frowns. “Because if wanted me to leave your party, all you had to do was say that, you don’t have to insult me.” You head toward the door of the kitchen and there’s a scrambling that sounds much too loud for just her friends. 

So your friends are also eavesdropping. Fantastic. Now everyone knows she’s insulted you. Just what you needed tonight. 

Her hand catches your wrist as you’re about to leave the kitchen. “I didn’t mean it like that,” She mumbles, not making eye contact. “I just...wanted to make sure you were feeling okay. It was really cold that night, and you were out there for a long time.” 

“So, what, you suddenly care? Why? Because you don’t want to win by default or something?”

“No, because I-” She cuts herself off with a groan, and you’re glad there are so many people around, because it seems like everyone’s distracted with something else. They’re too busy to notice this absolutely disastrous conversation. 

“Hey look,” Taehyung says, appearing from nowhere and pulling roughly on Yoonji’s arm until she’s standing beside you in the doorway. “Mistletoe! How random! Guess you have to kiss!”

“That’s a stupid tradition,” Yoonji spits, and you’re inclined to agree with her. “Forcing people to kiss just because of some plant? How is that okay? Besides, it’s got nothing to do with the actual myth behind it, and-” She sounds like she could go on forever, but you cut her off. 

“And it’s not like we want to kiss anyway.” Her grip on your wrist slackens, and you turn to look at her. Uncertainty fills you as you look at her expression, because the only word that comes to mind is crestfallen. “Right?”

“I...I mean…” Taehyung disappears as Yoonji searches for words, and you just know he’s hanging out somewhere nearby to watch it all happen. 

“Because we’re nemeses.” You say slowly. “We hate each other.”

“Do we?” Yoonji asks quietly, threading her fingers through yours. “Do you?”

“Don’t you? ” You ask her. “You’ve been nothing but rude to me since we met. You’ve insulted me, and stolen my decorating ideas, and-”

“No,” She says quickly. “No, I never meant any of it like that, you just never gave me a chance to explain. You’re...you’re so pretty, and I always get flustered around pretty people, and I say the wrong things.”

“You told me I wasn’t as good if I didn’t have a significant other the first time we met.”

“I was trying to figure out if you were interested in women, and when you said you were, I just...panicked, because I figured you had someone, because you’re…” She gives a wave to your general being. 

“You stole my dancing snowman.”

“I did not! I heard someone talking about a dancing snowman at the tree nursery, and I didn’t realize it was you, and I thought, since I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I’d get a dancing snowman that would play this cheesy playlist thing I made for you. I didn’t know you were looking for it, and I didn’t steal your idea. Not on purpose, anyway.”

“Okay, well...last year you were so rude! And you said you wouldn’t listen when I talked!”

“I thought…” She trails off, looking ashamed. “I thought you were dating Taehyung, and I got jealous. But the listening comment wasn’t like that! It’s because I always zone out because I like to listen to you talk, because your voice is so pretty, but I never hear what you actually say, and also you just...are really pretty. So I get distracted.”

“I…” You’re rather speechless; your entire world has shifted on its axis. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never.” Yoonji insists. “I just don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”

“You hang out with Hwasa. And Chungha.”

“Yeah, and?” Her brows furrow. “What’s your point?” If you could, you would keysmash at her, but as it stands, you just gape. 

“Uh, they’re literally model gorgeous?”

“Oh, are they?” She looks down at where your fingers are still entwined with hers. “I hadn’t noticed.”

You blink at her, and she looks up at you. There’s a faint smile playing on her lips, and something bright in her eyes that you haven’t seen before. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, shaking your head. “I just still don’t-”

“Will you shut up?” Yoonji asks, free hand coming to gently glide across your cheek. “And let me kiss you?” Your jaw shuts with a snap and you nod. 

Her lips are soft against your own, and your breath catches in your throat as you return the kiss. Her hand moves to grip your jaw, tilting your head ever so slightly so the two of you fit together that little bit better, and your hands come to rest on her hips. 

Electricity sparks through you to her. She pulls back just a little and you’re distracted by the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips. 

“This might be moving a little fast, since we hated each other an hour ago-”

“You hated me an hour ago,” She corrects. 

“But I would be very, very happy taking this to a more private area so I can express to you just how apologetic I am that I thought you hated me.” You tear your gaze from her lips to look at her face. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown out at the mere thought. 

“Upstairs,” She growls, already pushing you in the direction of the staircase. You’re both speeding through the crowd of people as fast as you can without being obvious, and you have to help her every few feet because she’s wobbly in her heels, but by the time you make it up the stairs and into her room, you’re both desperate. 

Her mouth meets yours with a fire behind it that you’ve never felt before, and you hardly even get the door closed before she pushes you back against it. Your tongue darts along the seam of her lips and she grants you entrance, and you could moan at just the taste of her if you were just a little weaker. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?” She whispers, moving to nip at your neck. Her hands are under your sweater and you don’t even remember them getting there, but you can’t complain as they move to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples through your bra. “Can you even imagine how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you? Tasting you? Hearing you moan?” 

She bites, hard and rough, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. How she possibly knows that you like that is something you don’t have the energy to ponder, nor the will to question. 

“Please,” You breathe, hands tangling in her hair as she sucks a mark into the skin of your throat. She’s slotted between your thighs and your hips are rutting against hers ever so slightly, desperate for some friction. You know you’ve already soaked through your panties, which is a feat considering all she’s done is play with your nipples a little and kiss you like you’ve never been kissed. 

“What is it, angel?” Her voice is deeper than usual, roughened by the desire coursing through your veins and hers, and it only makes you wetter. “What would you like me to do?”

“Anything,” You plead. “Please, just touch me.” 

“Anything?” Yoonji mutters. She chuckles, low and raspy and so unbearably attractive that you want to scream. You almost do scream, from frustration, when she pulls her hands away from your nipples, but she drops to her knees and you forgive her. 

Yoonji kisses up your thighs, from the edge of your boots all the way to where the hem of your skirt hits mid-thigh, and her hands are warm as they slide underneath. She doesn’t stop kissing you, not even as she lifts the fabric of your skirt and nips at the crease where your thighs meet your hips. Still, she’s so far away from where you need her, that you can’t help your whine. 

“Patience, angel,” She whispers as she glides one finger along your fabric-covered lips. Your hips rut forward on instinct, and she laughs a little. 

“You stole my dancing snowman, you could at least be quick about this,” You mutter. 

“What’s the fun in being rushed?” She leans forward to mouth at your pussy through your underwear and your legs tremble slightly. She’s gentle as her hands slide your underwear down to pool around your ankles, and even more gentle as they glide back up to rest on your thighs. “But I’ll be nice this time. Besides, I’ve been dreaming of what this pussy tastes like for years.”

Anything else you might say to her is cut off with a moan as her tongue starts to tease at your clit. One of your hands comes to rest on the back of her hair before you even realize you’ve moved, and she takes that as all the encouragement she needs. 

Yoonji eats pussy like it’s the last meal she’ll ever have, and you’re in absolute awe. The way her tongue moves against you is absolute bliss, no matter where it is; she teases at your entrance, sliding the very tip of her tongue inside to gather your wetness before she runs the flat of it up to your clit, where she circles and sucks mercilessly before moving back down to thrust it in and out and in and out relentlessly. She coaxes an orgasm out of you faster than anyone else ever has, and even as your writhing against the door with her head under your skirt, she doesn’t stop. 

Instead, she slides one long finger inside of you and keeps it there. She doesn’t move it, doesn’t even allow it to twitch, but it’s there and you can feel it as she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks, making your clench around her. She moans into your pussy, too, the entire time she’s at work between your legs, and it only turns you on more when you glance down to see her hand between her legs. 

“Yoonji, please, I want, please, I wanna taste you too, please,” You beg, tugging gently on her hair until she pulls back. Her chin is covered in your cum and the sight is so unbelievably unerotic that you could probably come just from that. 

“Take this off,” She growls, pulling on your skirt as she stands. You do as she says without hesitation, more than willing to get naked if it means getting your mouth on her, and by the time your boots are in the corner with the rest of your clothes, she’s just as naked as you are. 

And god, she’s beautiful. 

Your lips meet hers again as you push her towards the bed, and you can taste yourself on her tongue as it slides against yours. The two of you tumble onto the mattress and you situate yourself between her thighs. It isn’t until you’ve got her legs spread wide and your licking and sucking at her nipples that you register that her face is flushed with something new. 

“What is it?” You ask, panting, as you detach from her - beautiful, wonderful, adorable, perfect - tits. “Do you not want me to? I don’t have to, I just would really like to, it’s up to you.”

“No, it’s not that, I’ve just never…” She trails off, looking embarrassed, and realization smacks you in the face. 

“No one has ever gone down on you before?” You ask in disbelief. She shakes her head. 

“I’ve always been the one to do so, all the other girls have been kind of...well. I’m usually the dominant one, so…”

“Yoonji, sweetheart,” You say seriously, pressing a kiss to her cheek with each word. “Will you allow to me to eat you out? Because seriously, those other girls are trash, and I would absolutely cherish the experience if it’s something you want.”

Her face turns even more pink and she nods. You press a quick kiss to her lips and gently spread her thighs so you have better access. You mimic her actions from earlier, pressing kisses to her thighs and the crease of her hips. When you finally get a taste of her, you moan. 

She tastes like absolute fucking bliss, you decide as you glide your tongue through her folds. You could live off of nothing but the taste for her until the end of time itself, and the way she moves is amazing. Little jerks and thrusts, and her fingers tangle in your hair to push you closer even as her hips pull away slightly. 

Your tongue rubs circles around her clit, flicking and licking and coaxing her closer and closer to her high. You dip down to fuck your tongue into her for a second or two, and the way her back arches is art in motion. You reach one hand up to tweak one of her nipples while your other arm remains wrapped around her hip like a steel bar, keeping her in place even as she grinds against your mouth. 

You remember how it felt earlier when she wrapped her lips around your clit, so you mimic the action. Her bud fits perfectly between your lips, and when you suck on it, she tenses. Everything stops for a second, and you’re afraid maybe you ruined it, but then her whole body jerks, and she presses you hard against her. You lap up her essence as it comes, eager and more than willing, and when she finally stops spasming, you pull yourself away with a grin. 

“Holy shit,” She mutters, and you laugh. 

“I can’t believe no one’s ever eaten you out before,” You sigh, one hand sliding along her waist to massage her breasts. “Does that mean no one’s ever fucked you before either?”

“I mean…” You stop, staring at her with wide eyes. “I told you, I’m usually the dominant one, so most people don’t really...return the favor.”

“Can I please fuck you?” You ask in a rush. “Please, I promise I’ll be gentle.” She huffs a little, and you think it’s amused but you can’t be sure, because she’s spreading her legs again and your focus is elsewhere. 

“Yeah, angel, you can fuck me.”

You lower yourself to kiss her, lingering and deep, and you don’t miss the moan she gives as she tastes herself on your tongue. You wait until she’s thoroughly distracted by the way your mouths move, then glide your fingers over her. 

Her clit is still sensitive, based on the way she jumps as you ghost your fingers over it, so you avoid that. You don’t want to overwhelm her. She groans as you slide a single single finger inside her, and you moan. 

Her walls are softer than the velvet of her dress, and warm around you. She’s tight, too, so incredibly tight that you aren’t sure you’ll be able to fit another inside her. She moans as you slide your finger out and then back in, gathering more of her wetness as you do. 

You’re careful as you fuck her, gentle and slow, and you think you could get addicted to it. Her hips move in time with your hand, gaining speed as you do. “Fuck, angel, it’s so good,” She whimpers. You smile. 

“Let me know if it gets too much, okay?” She nods, and you start to slide a second finger in. Yoonji winces, just a little, so you slow until her hips rock against your hand. 

“More,” She breathes. “Please, more.”

“As you wish,” You tell her. You still are gentle as you thrust into her, feeling her walls contract around you. It’s heaven, absolute perfection, and you tell her so as she grips onto the sheets. 

You latch your mouth onto her nipple as you continue fucking her, biting and sucking as your fingers curl. 

“I need, ah, please, I need more, I need, holy fuck, to come, I need to come,” She moans desperately. You grin and curl your fingers more, sliding them against her walls. You finally find what you’re looking for, that small spongey spot that has her convulsing around you. 

“That’s right, baby,” You coo, “Come on, I know you want to.”

Her hands are in a death grip on your shoulders, and they only get tighter as you press harder against that spot inside her. She comes with a cry that you muffle with your own mouth, her body shaking as she lets go. 

You slide your fingers out when she’s relaxed a little more, licking the taste of her off as she pants. 

“Holy shit,” She breathes. You grin, peppering kisses along her stomach, up her chest, along her throat and over her cheeks. “Can we do that every day?”

“I dunno,” You tease. “Are you going to steal my dancing snowman again?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves at your shoulder, and you laugh. 

“I’m just saying, you’re supposed to be nice to the people you like.”

“I’m bad at that, though,” She mutters. “I always just...say the wrong thing. I’m more of a do-er.”

“I’m still caught up on how I was supposed to know you liked me based on the things you did.”

“Really?” She huffs, glaring at you playfully. “I went tree shopping at five in the morning for you.”

“Yeah,” You say softly, grinning. “You did.”

25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Christmas Anthology 

[southern-belle-outcasts]

4, 5, and 20 mun views

Mun Views 

4. On your fandom. 

Which one lmao....um, well X-Men? Cool, a lot of the fandom to some degree is drawn cuz they can relate be they part of some type of minority group. Don’t see too many assholes, I think most of the jerks that were on here fell off during nippocalypse. There is a divide with the comic elitists vs xmcu and it’s dumb. I used to be an xmcu blog cuz I WANTED to read the comics but I was a broke ass college student who had literally no access to that, but I’d seen Wolverine and the X-Men, plus the movies that were out at the time. If I’d let those asses run me off, well, wouldn’t have continued to build my comic book collection (I’d already read Batman, Superman, Spider-Man, I’m talking specifically X-Men comics).

Arrowverse? I don’t follow many of the blogs, I have a select few I follow. My fandom experience is pretty much my friends with fairly similar views so I can’t speak on the fandom outside of the fact there’s a loooot of veiled hating on women of color under the guise of griping with the crappy writing. I try to avoid it. I don’t hold with Iris and Cecile hate, they’re good characters subjected to the writing of white men, what do you want.

Star Wars? NOPE. Hell naw. No thank you. Bye. I have no interest. I make it very clear this is a “the prequels are the shit, TCW is a fucking joke and trashes the characters, not!Star Wars mouse sequels are non-existent, the og EU is not legends it’s the only recognized canon” blog, and I’m this unapologetically. I have extremely strong opinions, I’ve literally been in the fandom since I was 6, I’ve spent hours reading EU content, visual dictionaries and encyclopedias, concept art of the movies books, comics, novelizations, etc. If you’re a stan of the other...stuff, I’ll probably say shit that will offend you and it’s probably for the best you don’t follow me cuz I’m not censoring these opinions, ever, at all. And for the love of all things holy, if you want to call R*ylo okay, or Anidala toxic, we meeting up behind Denny’s, yo.

Supernatural? Kinda sorta, considering I don’t link Nil and Farrar to any of the show canon besides using some of the monster lore. Like we don’t do the appropriation of native spirituality on this blog, so there’s no use of W*nd*g* cuz you’re not supposed to write or say that, like no. I have major problems with the show, that’s a mile and a half long, past season 5 it went downhill, they really should have left Swan Song as the finale. The queer baiting and bury the gays, the trash trash trash finale, the way any poc and female characters are handled, there’s so much oof. I stay away from it. Honestly kind of nice to see the SPN crowd was mostly quiet, it was RAMPANT when I first got on here, and there was a looot of drama. The way the extreme crowd of the fandom conducts themselves with the actors and stuff tells you a lot. Another nope. I prefer to stick to fandomless urban fantasy.

5. On exclusivity. 

If that’s someone’s jam, that’s cool. Doesn’t bother me. At one point I was exclusive to a few versions of characters. Not anymore, but I can understand how sometimes someone just clicks for you to the extent it rubs you wrong seeing a different version. It doesn’t stop me from writing with other people so I literally give no fucks and don’t see why anyone else should either.

20. On 'popular' blogs. 

Here’s where I piss a lot of people off, and I don’t really fucking care, as having at one point been an even more actively sought out blog back when the MCU was taking off in 2012-2014 and having tons of asks and thread requests, I can more than speak on what it’s like being a popular blog.Technically still am, you don’t have to take my word for it, just look in my thread tracker, and that’s not even all the threads cuz some are in drafts cuz they’re starters and I can’t add yet.

There’s nothing wrong with people enjoying your writing and following you. Awesome, good for you. It often proves to be a lot for people and I don’t like when I see people biting off more than they can chew but still pushing for more followers and asks and threads. Frankly, it’s really, really rude. I get wanting to make people happy, or wanting to try new threads and stuff, but you should also be reasonable with how much you can manage. If I see someone complaining about having too many drafts and asks and then not being able to write because of the pressure, but then daily pushing their promo or their wire or memes...and nothings coming of it...and they’re admitting they can’t get their muse to reply...then STOP. “You don’t owe anyone anything” means you don’t owe anyone respect and obligations that aren’t due.

When you decide to join a collaborative writing hobby, you’re still committing to your partners to write to some degree. Now if that means you’re going to be slow, and super minimal with which followers you actually interact with THAT IS FINE...as long as you have that communicated and make it very clear to the people who follow you they’re probably just following to be lurkers. But I can’t get with constantly pulling for interaction then within the same day the whole inbox is being dumped, drafts are being dumped, the same three people are the only ones ever getting a reply for the past three months, etc.

There’s been times I’ve said I can’t plot right now, there’s been weeks I bump all the memes in my queue further down so that they don’t post so I can catch up. I’m so secure with partners I don’t follow back unless I get my rules code sent in (newsflash: 9/10 I never see it). I never post a promo. I really don’t need to, if I see someone I really want to interact with on my dash, I’ll follow first, but I can’t in good conscious promote myself when I’m at a decent spot keeping up with a LOT. Sometimes I’m really glad I’m a multi with OCS and mostly female muses, it helps avoid ever reaching the point where I’m just getting too many followers to keep up with, but giving yourself a cut-off isn’t a bad thing people. Trying to do too much is.

There, I have successfully pissed off a ton of people, but I’m not taking it back. There’s way too much immaturity on this matter on here, and it’s really a litmus test of the people who HAVE been in group hobbies that are interdependent of cooperation of all members offline, and those who haven’t. “It’s my hobby” isn’t this get of of jail free card you get to wave everywhere when you want to ignore people. You can’t pull that in most hobbies that involve more than one person, whatever it may be, if it’s a DND group, rec sports, chess, whatever. This is my hobby too. I just probably take hobbies and commitment to other people to a more...respectful level. If I have real life, or physical issues, of course that takes priority, but here’s a little secret...we ALL, like 99% of the community, have some degree of mental health, nuerodivergence, jobs, home life, chronic physical issues. I want you to single me out the mun that doesn’t have any of that impacting their writing capabilities to some degree. Please, find them for me. You having those things doesn’t make you special and if you can’t communicate that it’s too much, you need the “flood of follows” from your promo circulating but can’t ever write...I’m just sighing over here.

If any of these opinions rub you wrong, I don’t mind you just unfollowing,that’s fine. No one is forcing you to remain. I strongly believe the people that don’t want to remotely take it seriously, and the people that do take it more seriously, should just keep to themselves, that way no one is getting offended by the other for how they choose to enjoy their hobby. You should enjoy it, goddamnit!!! But NOT at the expense of stringing other people along. Communication is kind of essential here, as much as people want to go “I’m too shy, BLOCK”, but y’all I have ADHD, RSD, social anxiety (I used to live in an anxiety attack it was so bad), and I still do my best to communicate with people even on uncomfortable topics. If I can manage, so can you. And if you CAN’T be mature...and communicate...then mayhaps stick to fanfic until you learn how.

[kimberlycollins]

NIPPON GA DAI SUKI (JAPAN WE LOVE YOU)

Traveling to an exotic country sounds, well, exotic. And it is. It’s a true adventure in life. It’s also exhausting. And enlightening.

I’ve traveled afar throughout my entire adulthood. All over Europe, The Middle East, Egypt, Central America, Mexico, Eastern Europe, Canada, the Caribbean, Australia… Florida. ;)

I give travel (and my parents, *ehem*) credit for keeping me grounded, humbled and modest, in the sense of “I AM BUT A SPECK ON THIS EARTH” or “MY BELIEF SYSTEM IS NOT EVERYTHING” or “I DON’T KNOW AS MUCH AS I THOUGHT I KNEW” or “I REALLY DON’T KNOW HOW I GOT BEST DRESSED IN HIGH SCHOOL” (read: France ;)).

Travel helps us all to get out of our comfort zone and to see what a tiny place we occupy on this planet. It’s a liberating realization, embracing one’s insignificance in this world. It’s not about being small, because none of us are. It’s more about the world being BIG.

Travel puts your life into perspective; your problems and celebrations do not hold as much weight as they seem. It also shows you how much you have or what you don’t have. It’s a healthy reality check.

That’s why travel is good for you.

I am reminded this after a crazy year. My husband and I have been on tour with our music (The Smoking Flowers) for a lot of 2018, in and out of the country. It’s been a healthy year of these reality checks for sure.

That’s why I am writing this post on my health blog, as this type of health is just as important as the physical.

And so I write.

I write to journal.

I write to inspire (myself, if no one else).

I write to remember.

I write because I am bored today, it’s cold outside and my matcha is steaming, infusing me with memories.

I’m also writing because I miss Japan.

Of all my travels, I think Japan smacked me across the head when I needed it most. It made me feel like I was five years old again. Everything, down to using the toilet, I had to relearn/rethink. Yep, it took 43 years off my life. Now that’s a natural youth serum I can live with.

It also made my brain function differently. Trying to learn a foreign language audibly and visually that has no history in the Latin world is truly a foreign language. I now know how to order water, draft beer, sake and vegetarian ramen in Japanese. Basics. (Although a friendly laugh is usually the response to the veggie ramen inquiry). I now know how to tell a Japanese punk band they did a great job after seeing them open up for us at our show. I learned to say just plain “awesome”, and used it a lot. Japanese is pretty “saikou”, after all.

Japan can feel very futuristic, and Tokyo is like being on a movie set at times. They are the future for most of the civilized world seemingly 10 years ahead of us all, yet still remaining ancient and historic at the same time. Eating sushi or having tea can be presented like it was 400 years ago or like something out of The Jetsons (ala conveyor belt computer sushi restaurants).

But beyond the exotic veil, it was the culture and etiquette that really impressed me and made my head spin.

Below are but a few observations of the plentiful Japanese culture I experienced over my month long visit. And of course, they are my own, so they are neither right nor wrong. Just observations from a somewhat worldly gal who grew up Southern in America:

1. The Japanese have manners like I’ve never seen.

They are unwavering in their politeness. Selfless hospitality is a cornerstone of Japanese culture, and you can feel it in everything down to their quiet nature to their cleanliness to the way they package your purchased goods like a present. And that bow! That Japanese bow. It makes you feel special.

2. They are startling quiet and calm.

Given that Tokyo houses more than 13 million people, the sense of order and calm as everyone goes about their responsibilities with concern for others is remarkable. The Tokyo city streets are shockingly silent. You can hear the air, the machinery hums that run a city and the cars passing, but they don’t honk like NYC. I think I heard two honks the entire time in Tokyo, and that’s not an exaggeration. We drove the interstates a ton on our tour, all over the country... aggressive driving doesn’t seem to exist. Could this be from their Zen culture?

Also, they don’t bump into you trying to get on the subway in a hurry. It’s an orderly line and gentle squeeze to fit everyone on the trains, like a can of sardines without the stink.

I want to throw in another aspect of “calm” here; safety.

Feeling safe, stable, and secure is central to our health and wellbeing. How safe we feel at home and in our neighborhood can influence our social habits and feeling of freedom. When we feel safe, we find it easier to relax, do all the things that comfort us, and focus on the work or study we need to do to help ensure our stability.

I’ve never felt safer anywhere in my life than when in Japan. I never worried about my purse or goods being stolen. Never worried about locking our apartment or car doors. Never got ogled at or hit upon. Wowza.

3. There’s no trash on the streets. And I mean zero. Not even cigarette butts. And it’s not like there are janitors sweeping the streets and alleys. To make this fact more amazing, it’s hard pressed to find trash bins anywhere. So where does a city of millions dispose of their goods while walking/biking about? Their pockets… until they reach home to throw in appropriate bins.

RETRACTION: One time we were walking under an over pass in Tokyo and we saw, gasp, trash. The remarkable thing was that this trash was piled neatly in a small pile, waiting anxiously to be picked up properly.

For an interesting article on Japan and the waste culture check out this article: https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2017/07/why-japanese-dont-litter/

4. They seem to really care about the planet.

And don’t just post about it on social media.

You won’t find paper towels anywhere, sans a few nice restaurants. Water waste is thoughtfully considered in everything they do it seems. Yes, even the toilet fill water after a flush is used as a sink to wash your hands before entering the tank. They line dry their clothes (like most of the world except America). They ride bicycles like it’s Amsterdam on steroids. There are even parking lots just for bikes. This eliminates the need for excess taxis on the streets (i.e. “fossil fuels”). I know this goes on all over the world, but I again, I’m sticking to Japan here.

5. Buddhism and Shintoism.

I have practiced Buddhism since my 20’s and see it as more of a mind set and lifestyle than a religion. So for me, I felt right at home in a country that houses over 77,000 temples (No typo there). Incense permeates the air, especially in Kyoto. Smelled like my house and I couldn’t have been happier about that aspect.

But it’s more than Buddhism. The main Japanese religion is Shintoism. Many Japanese people practice both. The beliefs are very compatible and not contradictory.

6. ROBOTIC TOILETS!

Japan has a magic thing called Toto Toilets. And the toilet culture there is really something to behold. I fell in love with their toilets and never once worried to sit on the public toilet seat. I can simply not go back to our classic Kohler again. Trust me, once you experience a heated seat, self-cleaning, massaging, butt-cleaning, “privacy sound”, hand-washing toilet all in one small package, you’ll never go back. Don’t know how to expand on this in a blog… just “go” try it for your self.

7. 7- Eleven heaven!

Yep, you heard this health advocate correctly. When you are looking for a healthy bite on the road or on the quick, there’s a 7-Eleven on every corner. And it’s not the 7-Eleven we know in this country at all! Made fresh daily veggie sushi, veggie rice “sandwiches”, miso soup, raw veggies, healthy drinks, tea, fairly healthy snacks if you are into the packaged food thing. All for super cheap. I cannot tell you what a lifesaver it was on the road for us when there were practically no healthy options. Also, we decided to add fish into our diet while in Japan, and certainly glad we did. I’ve never had better fish in my life. It really felt healthy. My nails are still shiny like they’ve been shellacked. Win win.

8. VENDING MACHINES!

Super convenient and anonymous, there are vending machines all over Japan (even in remote villages) that can get you most anything you need instantly: from fermented bean drinks to green tea to hot or cold coffee to fully cooked meals to used panties. Yep, the Japanese can get weird.

Ok, so maybe the last three points are less about culture, but I had to throw them in for the “wow” factor.

I could go on and on about Japan… it’s as wide and deep and old and beautiful as it’s countryside beacon Mt. Fuji. But it has its pitfalls too. No culture is perfect. I just prefer to focus on the ideals I look up to, rather than focusing on the negatives. Their negatives are no different than America’s: too much sugar and meat in the diet, it’s a highly misogynistic society, cigarettes, stressful six day work weeks with long hours, those darn plastic bags… But we all know those are WORLD WIDE ISSUES.

Japan, you definitely stole my heart. Thank you to all who came to our shows and to those that showed us your rare style of hospitality. And a huge special thanks to my tour manager, Gus Bennett, who introduced my husband and me to this beautiful country, showed us the ropes and helped us navigate into this great unknown that will certainly be with me forever.

Mata, chikai uchini, aeruto iine.

Photo credit: Marley Parker at ML Parker Media

[shirtlesssammy]

13x19: Funeralia

Then:

Rowena’s back and better than ever (and so is Billie)(and so is Gabriel)(Asmodeus, not so much)

Now:

In Portland, Oregon, our favorite witch Rowena gets a call from the three musketeers Team Free Will. 

They need her help with Michael. She takes the time to compliment the cutest angel in the universe, but can’t be bothered with assisting further. She’s at a party, and has things to do. Namely: dance the tango and set a woman on fire.

Later, in the bunker’s kitchen (Dean’s comfort zone and Cas’s comfort zone!...still a table between them though), Dean and Cas try to brainstorm ideas for tracking Gabriel that doesn’t require Rowena.

Dean needs a beer to get the brain juices flowing, and despite Cas’s quick decline, he gets him one too. #goodhusband Cas comes up with asking the angels for help.

*Boris Determined Soon-to-be Classic Dialog Alert*

Cas: This would be something of a Hail Mary

Dean: Hmm

Cas: It’s a sport’s term, like slam dunk or ball handler

Dean: That’s uh, mm...I don’t think it’s a good idea.

Ah, they’re really talking here, discussing angels, Donatello, and being on the same page but approaching things from different perspectives. Interrupting Sam interrupts so I guess the rest of the episode won’t be domestic Dean and Cas chatting over a beer. Missed opportunity, I’d say.

Sam reports on Rowena’s recent activity. Dean gets testy with him about helping her and now Sam’s got to make things right. He then tells Cas that he can contact the angels, but adds, “don’t get dead again.” Guh, he couldn’t look at him until he said those words. He doesn’t like what Cas wants to try, but only makes eye contact when he really wants to make that last point clear. #worriedhusbandisworried

Cas heads to the playground and finds Indra, one slightly inebriated angelic guard.

Indra doesn’t really have any fight left in him. “If you want to say we fought and angel blade me right now, that’d be ok.” “Is that a joke?” Cas implores. Nope. Things are bad in angel land.

Cas finds the throne room empty. Duma and Co. arrive. He tells them about Gabriel and Michael and Jack and Lucifer. (But she says nothing back about Lucifer --and where the heck is he anyway?) The lights power up and down, and Duma tells Cas that they can probably help each other.

On the road, Sam can’t get a hold of Rowena. And then Jessica the reaper pops into the back seat. She’s apparently been keeping an eye on the brothers. She also points out that Dean hasn’t spilled about his time chilling with her in the veil. Jessica is here to help them with Rowena. She’s already killed four people before their time, and she needs to be stopped.

Omg, Rowena has a picture of Fergus on her desk. She also has limited patience with the Brothers Winchester. They keep calling, and soon they’ll find her. She reminds Bernard that she’s capable of anything now.

At the scene of “spontaneous combustion”, Sam reads about the victim. She wasn’t necessarily a good human. They look at the ashes and see another marking --the remnants of a reaper.

Dean calls for Jessica. Yep, it seems that Rowena is really going after reapers. She also talks about Ashton’s second best movie the butterfly effect. (Sidenote: Just look at Dean’s growth here. In season 6, he made it clear there would be no Kutcher references, and now he’s ranking his movies? Dean Bean.) Anyway, she talks about fate, death, and the cataclysmic repercussions of people dying before their time. (Uh, this is the opposite of saving everyone on the Titanic. I need to rewatch “My Heart Will Go On” --do they remember that other timeline at the end?) Jessica tells Sam that he is the one that will kill Rowena (NOOOOOO!!!)

*Cute Montage Alert*

Cas waits in heaven and I just want to squish this ferocious wavelength of celestial intent.

Duma finally comes back, and she brought a friend: Naomi! WoooOOOoooh. (Sidenote: another flashback to a previous episode.) She tells Cas, “it’s not that we won’t help you, it’s that we can’t.”

On the road, Sam finds another possible victim, and Jessica pops in to inform the boys that he’s dying as they speak. He’s bleeding out in his backyard. Rowena is there to scan the yard for a reaper, and finds him. She wants to have a chat with Death, but Billie does not negotiate with witches. And the man and reaper go up in flames.

Velvet pants swoon.

When Sam, Dean, and Jessica find the torched body Rowena calls them and suggests a chat in person. Rowena plans to try to convince them to stop pursuing her...or be stopped in turn. Dun dun dun.

Back with Castiel, he faces the torturer that made him do this:

While we love seeing Naomi again (I love Amanda Tapping), I also remember her as someone who really fucked Cas over. He remembers her this way as well. He's still angry with her for stealing his memories, threatening him, and making him repeatedly act out Dean's murder. Naomi shrugs. “Those were simpler times.” She doesn't apologize.

Naomi was hiding out until recently when the Heavenly power grid went down. We learn that angels power Heaven like batteries storing power. And now there are just nine angels left in Heaven, including Castiel. DAMN, ya'll. Naomi tells him that angels can't help Cas find Gabriel because no angels can leave or risk the ruin of Heaven. If the power grid falters, Heaven will crumble and everyone who's been living in Heaven will plummet to Earth and get their haunt on. That's...not good at all.

(Boris: My heart breaks a little for how affected Cas is on hearing the angel news. And is Anael in heaven? I presume that Lucifer can come and go as he pleases since he has his wings still. Will heaven remain closed for the foreseeable future - this season?)

Rowena settles in for drinks with Dean and Sam. She tells them she's only targeting bad people who've been responsible for the death of thousands. But Sam brings up that she's still killing reapers so the whole vigilante schtick doesn't ring true. She tells them that she's killing reapers to try and get Death's attention so she can get Fergus (Crowley) back. She blames his death (and presumably everything – his damned soul, his ascent to the throne of Hell) on her decision to leave him when he was a boy. Oh, Rowena. My heart kind of breaks for you.

“Are only Winchesters allowed to come back from the dead?” Rowena asks them acidly before she tells them she's going to continue her mission. Dean decides to tell her that Sam's responsible for her death which is...a lot. It's a threat. It's a promise, a warning. It's a hell of a lot to put on both Sam and Rowena. Sam's not ready to kill her though and tries to cuff her instead. She grins and fades out. She was astral projecting! Nice work. Rowena waves at them from the door and heads out of the bar at top speed.

Dean and Sam give chase when Dean gets closelined by Rowena's lackey.

They have a great drag-down fight featuring harsh moves, hotel props, and two blasé people riding an elevator.

Outside, Sam corners Rowena in the alley. He tells her to stop messing with the “machinery of the universe” and when she tells him she won't stop, he shoots. (Like. Sam. Pot, kettle much?) Rowena freezes the bullet. She's shocked that he would have shot her and puts him to sleep.

Jessica the reaper shows up while Dean continues to fight. She tells him to hurry which...thanks Jessica. Super helpful. When Dean finally defeats him, Jessica gives Dean reluctant props while Dean heads out to find Sam. He finds Sam's gun in the alley.

Pretty shot alert

Cut to Sam tied up in Rowena's room. He tells her the increased magic in her system has made her crazy but Rowena counters with a different story. She has new clarity. All she'd done for money or power was meaningless, ultimately. Everyone she loved – Oscar and Fergus – are lost to her. She wants to redeem herself somehow. (I have to say of the two redemption arcs – Ketch versus Rowena – I definitely believe Rowena's to be more genuine.) Anyway, since Sam's destined to kill her then she should kill him first. She rips his shirt open.

Rowena apologizes but still slams killing power into Sam. Death shows up and Rowena recognizes her from that one time they worked together to harness a ton of souls. “If we'd just exchanged numbers,” Rowena notes, “none of this would have been necessary.” Billie warns her off her risky scheme and tells her she doesn't do blackmail. If she kills Sam, nobody's gonna be happy in the future, but it's Rowena's choice. And Crowley is staying dead.

Sam begs for his life and Rowena turns at the last minute and blasts Billie instead. Billie, mid-attack, just hangs out casually. No big. (Though notice she didn't bring her scythe with her tonight. Probably a smart choice.)

Billie bends down and she and Rowena have a heart to heart. Rowena breaks down. “I don't know what I'm doing,” she confesses.

“Sometimes life isn't fair,” Billie tells her. “And sometimes we lose things. And sometimes we make mistakes. And some of these things can never be fixed, no matter how powerful you become. Some things just are.” She won't kill Rowena.

Billie greets Dean as he breaks down the door, Jessica in tow. “See you again soon,” she says to Dean before flapping out. Yikes. Ominous.

Outside the Heavenly sandbox, Cas continues to be a total angel and holds a very civil conversation with Naomi. She'll stay in Heaven to protect the grid and wishes him luck on his quest to find Gabriel. The gates of Heaven are closed. After she leaves, Cas grabs a handful of sand from the sandbox that is now just a sandbox. He looks despairing over Heaven's fate.

Rowena, Sam, and Dean touch base. “What have I done?” Rowena asks. Sam tells her that what happened with Crowley wasn't her fault. “Every one of us has done something we have to live with. That we're trying to make up for,” Dean tells her. Sam tells her they may need her help to save the world. No pressure, as always.

Sam tells her Lucifer is back. “I'm horrified and scared and my heart may have stopped but...Lucifer isn't the one who's going to kill me, is he?” Rowena returns. Sam vows to change her fate.

Quoternalia:

Hello, boys.

I'm surprised you recognize the sound of a party since you're all work and no play.

You know, she’s right. You never go to parties.

You were “handling it”

Death doesn't negotiate with witches.

She's powerful. She's gorgeous. And she's paying me a small fortune. That woman didn't have to cast a spell on me.

Everything ends.

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[popculturespiritwow]

THE WICKED + THE DIVINE #20: I WANT TO BE IN THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENED

“DID I DO THAT?”

I spent way too much time looking for an Urkel/Family Matters pun about Baphomet’s real name. Please give me points for effort.

(Fun Fact: Points for Effort is also the name for my Completely Unauthorized Biography of Baphomet. He really puts in some solid effort here. You gotta love him.)

THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR

Q: Is there a place for a Dionne Warwick reference in the analysis of a comic book about early 21st century pop culture gods who die in two years and spend all their meanwhiles basically doing whatever the hell they want while their spooky, veiled mentor figure quietly steals their heads/murders them?

A: Context is irrelevant. There is always a place for Dionne Warwick reference. You will be assimilated.

Pretty much every friend/loving(-ish) relationship in WicDiv is undermined to some degree by competition (Luci/Ammy), betrayal (Baal/Inanna), just plain fear (Ananke/Woden – we’re using “love” her REALLY loosely); and that sweet sweet cocktail of life, jealousy + shame (Baph/Morry).

(Random aside: I want to pitch a Morrigan spin off entitled “Tuesdays with Morry” in which a visitor descends to meet the Morrigan over the course of weeks and slowly goes crazy and then is torn to pieces. You know, for the kids.)

Even the great relationship between Laura and Luci marinates in a certain amount of Fan-with-Object of Fan, How Do I Get What She’s Having instability.

Cassandra and Laura spend most of the first two arcs as frenemies. (It’s hard to be friends with a person who is always telling you how naïve you are.) But near the end of arc two, we get that moment where Laura shows Cassandra some real kindness and Cassandra actually allows herself to be vulnerable.

Can you hear the Warwick, Clarice? Can you hear her singing?

Of course then Laura ascends/sings/dies/watches her family get murdered/escapes, and it’s all sort of lost in Ananke’s reality-unsettling fire.

But then when Laura comes back and sets her plan in motion, she tells her story not to The Internet’s Best Friend Dionysius or to its Yum Yum I’ll Have that To Go Baal, but Cassandra.

And unlike the typical exposition dump, aka CUT TO:

INT. LOCAL CAFE - NIGHT

CASSANDRA SIPS COFFEE WHILE LAURA SMOKES CLOVES AND TELLS HER WHAT HAPPENED.

(Hear the pretty wheels of a good story coming to a screeching halt)

-- that exposition is absolutely in service of the story. Cassandra absolutely needs to know what happened to Laura before she’ll agree to join them.  

But even with that, we end on this lovely, unexpected beat where Cassandra wonders why Laura would share the Baphomet stuff with her. And Laura’s answer is not as huggy as before.  She’s sort of graduated from that into something quieter and more vulnerable.

I loved Luci and Laura, I love Baphomet and Laura, but the friendship I really ship in WicDiv is these two.

What really makes me angry, though? Laura’s reveal about her and Baph is a Writer’s Convenience. There is no obviously good reason why Laura would have had to tell Cassandra about that. It’s there because the narrative needs the scene to “finish” Laura’s Secret Underground Journey and also to add some twists to what actually happened between them.

Cassandra asking about The Reveal You Need is your classic hang a lantern way of mitigating against the problem. If I name your problem you’ll think it’s all part of the plan, or at least like I see it, too.  

And what’s appalling, I mean deeply offensive, is that Kieron has an answer to the problem that doesn’t stop at satisfying my questions but takes the characters deeper and makes the scene into something so much more.

How dare he be that good.

How. Dare. He.

(I’d love to know which came first, the dilemma of how to justify that information or his sense of their relationship at this point and the opportunity this moment could provide if he stayed in it just one more beat. But either way, it is an really delicate bit of work. And I am filled with envy.)  

RIGHT?

My favorite beat of the flashbackery has got to be this moment of seeing Baphomet and Inanna react to what is about to happen to Laura. It’s like getting to see the horror in my soul from a safe distance.

PERSEPHONE IS IN HELL

I’m always interested in the precise blessing that each god bestows. We got a glimpse of Persephone’s magic in issue 18, the dark vines ever deepening around her listeners while the words “Persephone is in Hell” resound. And it’s clear it’s a shattering experience for each of them.

But the specifics of that experience are unclear. What does Persephone get them in touch with? What does she give them?

After issue 20, it’s still not totally clear, but I sort of wonder if Laura’s gift is actually allowing others to experience her own horribly sad story. Maybe going to a Persephone concert is like watching Schindler’s List, or Born on the Fourth of July or Twelve Years a Slave. Basically you’ve just signed up for horror and grief. And yet you come anyway, because the opportunity to face the monstrous truths of our reality is cathartic. 

Seriously, if it weren’t for Peak TV keeping me distracted (just started Counterpart, wow is it good) I would be on a non-stop diet of World’s Saddest Movies. As it is I’m repeat watching Infinity War basically just for the last five minutes (and really for the very last minute’s “I don’t want to go”, which somehow only gets more upsetting to watch after you know it’s coming).

The thing I like about this idea of the blessing of Persephone being her story is that it’s a little bit different than the other gods. Their blessings certainly come out of their own lives and experiences, but the gift itself is more of the quality of an experience.  You walk away from an Inanna residency or an Amaterasu performance with a certain feeling, maybe a take on life (and in the case of an Inanna residency probably some unwanted new hitchhikers, please get tested, everybody.)

Persephone’s gift, if I understand it correct, is not about you but her. You walk away from her show with an experience of what happened to her and where that has left her.  Persephone is in Hell.

I haven’t thought very much about the meaning or Easter eggs to be found in the specifics of the different gods of the Pantheon – at least not until they hit me upside the petunia, like the reveal of the Woden’s true identity or the ongoing discussion about the appropriateness of Hazel’s take on Amaterasu.

But the more I sit with Laura’s journey, the more I think about the fact that she was transformed not into one of the classic A-List Greek gods but a relatively minor one who became a bridge between them and the rest of us via abduction, forced marriage and missing her mom (Greek myths are so messed up, I’m rereading The Iliad right now, it’s basically just a million lines of women being treated and talked about like garbage).

Laura has always been our stand-in, our bridge to this world. Maybe her blessing reflects that. It’s not some divine gift from on high, but the sharing of one really cursed human being with others.

(Am I trying too hard here? I may be trying too hard here.)

HEY, RORSCHACH

“I triggered it thirty-five minutes ago” Watchmen nods seriously never get old.

 IT’S ALL GOING TO BE OKAYYYY?

So we’re halfway through Super Hero Fight Wow, about to go into the Big Punch Finish. And  I love that Gillen and McKelvie have married the genre to the idea of teen individuation. Our kids are going to literally kill their mom, and in doing so achieve lives “of their own”.

It’s a coming of age story, basically.  It’s the end of the first act of Into the Woods. Problem solved. Happily ever after.

(Yeah, there’s still a giant left and a Great Darkness out there, but if we can take care of the Witch who Stole Our Baby we can take care of that. IMPERIAL PHASE, BABY.)

So of course Kieron ends instead like this.  

Just shut up, we’ve got it handled, it’ll be fine.

[nerdylittleshit]

Thoughts about Spn 13x06

SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!

Yee-haw! So, did we get the promised Brokebacknatural? Cowboys? Check. Super gay? Double check.

Once again we got an episode, and I know I keep repeating myself here, that left no room for subtext. Everything was spelled out in neon letters. Which is weird, from a meta perspective. We are so used to look out for the subtext, and codes and hidden messages, and again it feels like the subtext just became plain text. And again, I don’t feel like this makes the episode better or worse, just different, and of course it leads to the overall question: WHY? And to me it feels like, or at least makes sense, like we are heading to the finish line here. I’m not saying the current season is the last, but maybe the next one. From a writer’s point it would make sense then to address themes that have been part of the subtext for a long time, and the only way to resolve them is to put them in the actual text of the show. (And yes, before you ask: Destiel. All the Destiel.)

Overall I liked the episode a lot. The actual case was kinda… there, they could have made more with it, I dunno. But I loved the Western theme and of course it was a big character episode. I think this week the focus was on Jack, and his relationship with Cas. We had a lot of great Dean moments as well, which brought the episode a light and fun atmosphere, and worked especially in contrast to last weeks episode, to make a big statement what or rather who made Dean so happy. The characters and their relationships were the selling point of the episode.

Let’s have a closer look.

Jack vs Evil Dead

There was a lot of Jack in the episode, and in the beginning he seemed to be in a relative happy place. He is obviously still trying to find out who he is, but it seems like hunting gave him some purpose, at least for a moment. We learned in 13x04 that he still thinks in terms of “good” and “bad” and that, through the influence of Sam and Dean, hunters are to him the good guys. They kill monsters and help the innocent.

Jack trying to be a hunter was of course meant to remind us of all the times Cas tried to act like a hunter. They both even use the same approach by watching what Sam and Dean do and try to copy it. Though I have to admit, with all my love for Cas, I think Jack has got the hang of it a bit faster. He found them a case, he found footage of zombie!Dave and identified him as Athena’s boyfriend. Top of his class, indeed.

I loved the relationship/interactions between Cas and Jack. I always like it when they add new characters to the team, to see new dynamics, not just Cas and Jack, but of course also the birth of team free will 2.0. Cas and Jack do balance out Sam and Dean in a way; they are both not human and outsiders of their own. And similar to last season where Cas could teach Mary about her sons now we have him teaching Jack how to handle a Winchester properly.

I’m not sure the show is ever going to address the “Did Jack brainwash Kelly and Cas?”-issue more than they did now. Jack confirms that he trusted Cas because his mother trusted him, that Cas made him feel safe and the fact that Cas is surprised Jack remembered that implies they talked about the events in 12x19. I have a feeling Dean won’t bring up the issue again – whatever Jack did with bringing back Cas he is forgiven. I’m not sure of either Cas or Jack were aware of the brainwashing. Every episode so far has shown us that until lately Jack had no control over his powers. Choosing Cas as his protector probably did happen unconscious, based on the feelings of his mother, who had become one with him at some point (probably when he resurrected her).

Cas supports Jack and believes in him, and I think he fulfils a role here neither Sam and Dean could. He is the one Jack chose as his father, as his mentor, he is the one who was supposed to be there for him. I don’t believe Jack still controls Cas in some ways, but rather that the affection is genuine. Cas repeats what Kelly told her son – that he is meant to do great things and that he has the power to make the world a better place. This very thing though puts a lot of responsibility on Jack. It is clear that he wants to do good, that he wants to prove to others and himself that he is not a monster, but it backfires horrible. It is clear that killing the security guard was a horrible accident, and Cas, Sam and Dean reassure him that in their line of work things like that keep on happening, but that it doesn’t mean he is bad, or that he should stop trying to do better. Each of them has done horrible things in the past, because the world is more complex than “good” and “bad”. It is part of being human, and we talk so much about Jack’s powers that we forget at times that he is half human too.

Especially in that aspect I think Jack mirrors Dean a lot. There is an early parallel when Jack tells Cas how much he missed him, how he begged for his return, or basically when he tells Cas everything Dean couldn’t. The Jack we see at the end of the episode, the one who decides to leave because he is afraid he is going to hurt his found family, is the one who reminded a lot of Dean in 9x10, who decided to leave because he thought of himself as “poison”. Dean is still the one who is the most honest with Jack – when he asks if the security guard had a family only Dean gives him a direct answer. Dean is the one who never tried to sugarcoat what he thought of Jack, but he is also the one who admits here that he was wrong about Jack. We saw a first small step in that direction at the end of 13x04, after Jack saved Sam, but it is clear that the turning point is Jack bringing Cas back.

Also, Jack refers to Cas, Sam and Dean as “all he has”. This and that he asked about the family of the man he killed shows how important family and family ties are to him, and that he thinks in categories of family the way we know Dean does as well. It wouldn’t surprise me if we end the season with Jack addressing the Winchesters (including Cas of course) as his family.

Something else I found interesting are Jack’s powers. By now he can control them in some ways. It is clear it is a learning process. What I am curious about though is what specifically are Jack’s powers. We know that one day he will be more powerful than his father. We know he has some angelic powers – he can teleport, bullets and knifes don’t hurt him etc. Unlike angels though you can’t banish him. He sleeps, even if he doesn’t sleep as much as humans. He eats and he seems to enjoy food. It is a mix between angelic powers and human needs. Then again he asked Cas to heal the security guard, even though we know that Jack can technically heal people, after all he saved his mother in 12x19, so we might see him exploring more powers in the future.

The most interesting part though is his power to open portals to other worlds, and the fact that he had the power to reach Cas in the Empty, a place where even God had no power. This made me wonder if the Empty perhaps exists outside of reality? And God’s powers only have access in places in our reality – earth, heaven, hell, purgatory, the veil. Could it be that every universe/reality has their own God? If there are different versions of the archangels, why not God? We know that Lucifer from our universe still has his powers in the AU world. But what if there is only one Empty, existing outside of all those realities? And only Jack, Death and the reapers have access to it? Does that make Jack more powerful than God?

Cowboys Are Frequently, Secretly Fond of Each Other

(What did you think all them saddles and boots was about?)

So, after Dean said “I do” under a giant neon cross, I think it is fair to say that travelling to Doge City and dressing up as cowboys was Dean and Cas’s honeymoon?

I’m still in awe and wonder how obvious all the Destiel stuff was. Not just in this episode, during the whole season so far. It is the main topic with all my meta peeps here, because we still can’t believe that after years of digging deep through the subtext the show is now so blatant about Destiel. After 13x05 everyone and their mother said that Cas was presented as the win Dean so desperately needed, and now he textually confirms it, calling Cas even a “pretty big win”. Dean’s whole attitude and behaviour has changed, in the way that 13x05 and 13x06 almost work as a pair to show is exactly what the main difference is between the two episodes and Dean’s emotional state. I mean their mom is still trapped and Jack is still a potential danger, and this episode marks the first time he killed someone, even if it was only an accident. We expected to hear the “I told you”-speech from Dean, instead he is reaching out to Jack and takes care of his mess. Why? Because of Cas. Because Jack brought back Cas, and for the first time Dean can acknowledge the effort Jack applied.

It was in character that we didn’t get a great speech of Dean talking about his feelings (like I said, Jack already expressed what Dean felt). We are not at the point of the story yet where Dean is ready to use his words, though sooner or later he has to. Instead we got the car scene and the usual bickering between Cas and Dean, and it is only then that Dean admits how happy he is that Cas is back. It was very lighthearted and sweet and it again confirmed that Dean and Cas have a relationship off-screen (the movie Dean made Cas watch, the fact that Cas knows that Dean is an angry sleeper etc). Also, my new headcanon is that Metatron didn’t like Western movies, so they weren’t part of all the popculture knowledge he gave Cas. Dean might missed his chance to introduce Cas to Star Wars, but he will do his best to show Cas his favourite Western movies. All of them.

Wild Wild Dead

The case of the week was rather simple. There was a recurring theme of “things that look like other things”. In 13x02 we had with Asmodeus a shapeshifting demon, in 13x03 we had a wraith who looks human and 13x04 featured two actual shapeshifters and an ancient cosmic entity that took the form of our favourite angel. And we started this episode with Dean asking Cas if it is really him. It doesn’t take a big step to figure out that identity will be a big theme this season. Jack of course still struggles with his own, trying to find out who he is. And then of course we have the AU world or maybe even worlds, with a potential infinite amount of doppelgängers of characters we know.

We also have two characters coming back from the dead – Cas literary, and the ghoul who impersonates someone who died a long time ago. Both lose the one they wanted to protect – Cas loses Jack, Dave loses Athena. I’m not sure if this parallel was on purpose because Dave and Athena’s relationship wasn’t anything like the one between Jack and Cas. The first one was romantic and quite unhealthy, the second a parent-child-relationship, based on support. I also wonder if Athena was aware that her boyfriend was a ghoul? She seemed to know about the grave robberies and I thought for a moment she provided him with food, but she was surprised to find out he wasn’t exactly human, so.

Another character that was somehow paralleled/ associated with Dean was the Sergeant. The officer who was killed was his nephew; not his actual so, but still someone very close to him. Getting revenge for him was family business, to make it even more obvious. And he stated twice that he would kill the one responsible for his nephew’s death. And that is somehow problematic. I think it was perhaps part of the Western theme to show people who take the law in their own hands, with blazing guns and only one of them surviving. Still he was an officer of the law, and unlike Dean and the others he didn’t know at first that a monster was responsible for his nephew’s death. The show morally justified that hunters can kill monsters, if they have killed, because there is no monster prison. But there is no justification for humans to kill other humans, especially not officers of the law who should know better. The first monstrous humans though on the show have all been killed by officers of the law though (Pa Bender by Deputy Kathleen Hudak in 1x15 and Pete Sheridan by Detective Diana Ballard in 2x07). Sergeant Phillips is portrayed as a hero by the narrative, that he kills the monster in the end feels justified, but it shouldn’t.

Dean seemed also very calm when the ghoul aimed his gun at his head. Perhaps because he knew that Billie would bring him back, because he is important? Interesting though “stabbed by a ghoul in a graveyard” was one of Dean’s potential deaths (I wonder if we will also get to see almost burned by a red haired witch and almost died by a heart-attack). After the ghoul is dead Dean takes care of Jack’s mess and is back to his usual “we were never here and we lie about what we do”-attitude. In contrast to 13x01 where he openly told the Sheriff that he is a hunter, because he no longer cared about anything. Now that Cas is back he does.

Some other things:

- Did nobody in town recognize Dave Mather? Did they all think it was just a great coincidence the undertaker’s new boyfriend looked exactly like the old west dude?

- Speaking of, why is nobody ever suspicious about their aliases? Texas ranger Val Kilmer? Seriously?

- Nina Lopez-Corrado, the director of the episode, smuggled herself in the episode twice: with Athena’s last name (Lopez) and again with the giant “Lopez” on top of the mausoleum in the graveyard.

- Does Sam like Amanda Palmer? He seemed interested. Adding this to my (very short) list of music Sam likes.

- The episode had great soundtrack choices.

- I’m still worried about Jack though. I hope he packed some lunch.

Until next week <3

[radioleary-blog]

Nixon’s Apprentice

For news junkies like me, this past week was the best week of news in a long, long time. Ever since Bernie Sanders “lost” the Democratic primary race to Hillary Clinton, the Queen of the Illuminati. or is it Hilluminati? Since then, the news has all been pretty bad.  I don’t need to recite a litany of all the affronts to sanity and society to which we have all borne witness these past hundred-odd days, and it’s been a hundred very odd days indeed. Things have gone rapidly downhill since the election, down a slope as steep as a double-black diamond ski trail. Down a mountain where Trump is the tree, and the whole country is Sonny Bono.

If you are too young to know who Sonny Bono is, he wasn’t related to U2’s Bono, you could tell because Sonny Bono found what he was looking for. He was a hippie-ish singer and musician who racked up a string of hits with his wife Cher in the 1960’s, then in the 1970’s they had a long-running TV variety show (with David Letterman as a writer), then he served three terms in Congress in the 1990’s representing California, until he was killed in a tragic skiing accident when he hit a tree. They say the bark is worse than the bite, and to Sonny Bono, the bark was definitely worse. Some people say Sonny probably should have spent more time in Congress and less time at a ski resort, but who knows, maybe he had a time-Cher. Sonny Bono was another TV celebrity turned incompetent Republican elected to high office, so he wasn’t all that different than Donald Trump. Except The Sonny and Cher Show on CBS was the highest rated television show in America, and The Apprentice didn’t even crack the top 50 in its last four seasons. People viewed Sonny Bono as a bit of a joke and a lightweight, but compared to our current President he looked like Teddy Roosevelt, if Teddy could carry a tune instead of a big stick. He even had the moustache.

The big difference between Trump and Sonny Bono is that Sonny had a wonderfully self-deprecating sense of humor, he was charming and humble, and he was honest about how unqualified he was for high office. “The last thing in the world I thought I would be is a U.S. Congressman, given all the bobcat vests and Eskimo boots I used to wear.” Sonny said. “What is qualified? What have I been qualified for in my life? I haven't been qualified to be a mayor. I'm not qualified to be a songwriter. I'm not qualified to be a TV producer. I'm not qualified to be a successful businessman. And so, I don't know what qualified means.” Wow, that’s a refreshing change from the self-proclaimed super-genius President we have now. The one who was surprised that being President was harder than having a reality game show. That genius. You know, Wile E. Coyote thought he was a Super-Genius too, but in the span of five-minutes he gets crushed by a giant boulder, takes an anvil to the head, and is turned into an accordion after falling from a fatal height.

But I digress.

So the news has been bad and getting worse, until right now. It’s been exhausting. Used to be, before we entered what I affectionately call the ‘end of days’, a President would get embroiled in a scandal, it would unfold slowly over months or years, and it would either bring him down or it wouldn’t. But this time around the scandals have moved faster than Anthony Weiner’s texting hand. Or maybe his other hand, if you know what I mean. Even hardcore political junkies like myself are starting to O.D. like a frontman in a grunge band.

With the firing of FBI director Comey to stop an investigation against him, and subsequent veiled threats about secret “tapes”, Donald Trump has raised the specter of Richard Nixon. By the way, somebody should tell Trump that when you put quotation marks around a word like that, it’s usually meant to indicate sarcasm. It’s called ‘Irony punctuation’. In the 1580’s, a printer in England introduced the percontation point, and French poet Alcanter de Brahm called it the irony mark. Both are the form of a question mark reversed, like this, "⸮". Irony punctuation is used to convey that a sentence should be understood at a second, deeper level.

Initially the reverse question mark was used at the end of a rhetorical question, like “Why is it your feet smell and your nose runs "⸮" or “How can you ever get off the airplane if it’s a non-stop flight "⸮" (that one actually has an answer, you fly United and they drag you out before take-off). Eventually, the reverse question mark disappeared, but the quotation marks around it are now put around the word or phrase you mean sarcastically or ironically. Like, if you see a sign in a restaurant window that says: OUR BURGERS ARE 100% “BEEF”, you’d better make sure those are grill marks on the burger and not whip marks from when it lost the Kentucky Derby. So listen up, Donald Trump, stop putting quotation marks around words that are not intended sarcastically! Okay, Mr. “President”?

But I do digress.

I remember Nixon. Man-o-man, do I remember Nixon. My dad was a lifelong Democrat, and he was draft age as the Vietnam war raged across the evening news, so Nixon’s name came up a lot. Not really in a positive way. I grew up thinking Richard Nixon’s middle name was F***ing. That’s the way it sounded in my house, anyway. My dad would be watching Cronkite, and since like most Americans we were a one-TV household, that meant I was watching Cronkite too. It was either that or actually do my homework, so hello, Walter.  And ol’ Tricky Dick was always up to something. My dad would seethe at every new scandal, from “He’s sabotaged Johnson’s peace talks! That Richard F***ing Nixon!” to “He attacked Cambodia? On Christmas? That Richard F***ing Nixon!” to “Can you believe he fired special prosecutor Archibald Cox? That Richard F***ing Nixon!”

That was all well and good, until one day in school my teacher asked us what President Nixon’s full name was. My hand shot up, with about the same positive result as when Janis Joplin shot up. “I know! I know! It’s Richard F***ing Nixon!” I got the feeling I may have been incorrect when twenty-five third-graders gasped in unison, sucking all the air out of the room like the Allied air raids over Dresden. After Mrs. Whatever-her-name-was regained consciousness, her teacher training took over as she tried to regain control of the classroom with all the nervous calm of a woman about to lose tenure. “No, Chris, President Nixon’s middle initial is ‘M’.” I raised my hand again. “I got it now, is it Richard Motherf***ing Nixon? Because I’ve heard that one a lot too.” And that’s right about the moment my name started going on lists. I was sent home with a note for my mother. I read it, but I had to ask mom what “political dissident commie pinko” meant. Mom said it meant I was smarter than my teacher.

Did you know that Richard Nixon happened to be in Dallas on November 22, 1963, the very day President Kennedy was killed there? It’s true. After Kennedy beat Nixon in 1960, Nixon went to work as a lawyer for Pepsi, and he gave a speech that day before a group of Dallas businessmen. But for some reason, Nixon later told three separate lies saying he left Dallas before the trouble started. Nobody thought he had anything to do with the shooting, it’s not a conspiracy, just a weird coincidence, but Nixon lied about it anyway. It was completely unnecessary too, because thanks to Trump, we now know that JFK was actually killed by Ted Cruz’s dad. And probably Hillary. And maybe Pocahontas.

And did you know that besides the astronauts, the only other name on the Moon is Richard Nixon? Well, that’s true, too. There are plaques left behind by the Apollo astronauts, with their signatures and Nixon’s signature, because he was President for all the Moon landings, so he’s the guy that signed the checks. I think they left the plaque right beside that cool flag they planted for MTV. It reads, "Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the Moon July 1969, A.D. We came in peace for all mankind." Wow. That’s pretty noble. I guess they decided not to add the part that says “But mainly, we did it to show up the Russians.”

And I’m sure that plaque is still there, untouched, on that secret Nevada movie set where they really filmed the Moon landing. I think history will eventually give the director’s credit for the Moon landing to Stanley Kubrick He probably filmed it between 2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange, we could ask Kubrick, but he died mysteriously less than one week after finishing Eyes Wide Shut. Some say he was killed for revealing a long-hidden truth in that film. Not the hidden truth that the world is run by a secret society of elites that control the levers of power, commit murder with impunity, and engage in ancient satyric orgiastic rituals. But rather he revealed the long-hidden truth that there was absolutely no sexual chemistry at all between Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman. Faked the Moon landing? I think Tom Cruise faked the Poon landing! I understand that before filming started, Tom Cruise asked Kubrick if he could keep his beard in the movie. Kubrick said yes, so Tom Cruise brought Nicole. Get it? She was a beard? No? Ah, forget it. I should have closed with Poon landing.

Now I, for one, truly appreciate the irony of Nixon’s name reaching the lofty height of being on a heavenly body, because he was infamous primarily for his gutter politics. Dick Nixon was a dick alright, right from the beginning. He worked with “Tailgunner Joe” McCarthy and the HUAC, the House Unamerican Activities Committee. They basically just went around ruining the careers of anyone who opposed them, usually by accusing them of being secret Communist agents. Most of ‘em were completely innocent of any wrongdoing, but the committee black-balled them out of their professions if they were any more liberal than Rorschach from The Watchmen. “Hurm.” The HUAC black-balled thousands and thousands of decent, patriotic Americans with all the credibility of the Salem Witch trials. The HUAC were responsible for more black-balling than the Kardashian family.  

Too bad the HUAC isn’t around today, they wouldn’t have to look any further than a few blocks down the street to the White House to find a whole mess of Communist agents and Moscow Moles, and this time they wouldn’t have to make it up. Hell, between Trump puppet Devin Nunes and the newly-elected Montana body-slam man, they’d have plenty of careers that need ruining right there in the House itself without bothering the rest of us. It’s mind-boggling to me that the Republican party was once so obsessed with preventing Russian agents from infiltrating the government, and today they are the Russian agents infiltrating government. And the ones that aren’t actually Russian influenced are spending all their energies and political capital defending and making excuses for the ones that are. I’ve said it before, we are living in a land without irony.

Nixon was a low-down red-baiter from his very first campaign in 1946, when he was recruited into politics by Republicans in California's 12th district to oust incumbent Democrat Jerry Voorhis, who supported the New Deal and had a liberal voting record. Nixon came out bullshit blazing, saying that because Voorhis was endorsed by a group linked to communists, it must mean that he’s a left-wing radical commie himself. In reality, Voorhis was staunchly anti-communist, and he was voted by the press corps to be the "most honest congressman.” But Nixon was able to paint him red all over, even though Voorhis refused to accept any endorsement that didn’t renounce communism. Nixon won by over 15,000 votes, and the rest is history, and it’s even written on the Moon. It’s too bad Jerry Voorhis wasn’t Jason Vorhees, now there’s a dude that would know how to effectively respond to a hatchet-job. Probably with a machete.

Nixon was a creep, and it’s no coincidence that the group behind the break-in at the Watergate hotel was called the Committee to RE-Elect the President, or CREEP. You can’t make that shit up. Next thing you know, Nixon fires the special prosecutor who is investigating him, Archibald Cox. Heh heh...Dick fired Cox...heh heh. Just like Trump fired Comey. And then Trump hints that there are secret tapes. Or “tapes”, if you don’t get sarcasm. Just like the tapes that Nixon was forced to turn over in which he implicates himself in a million-dollar payoff of hush-money to cover up the break-in. Nixon was the master of recording, Trump is like a Nixon cover band.

Donald Trump knows nothing of history, or he’d know that it wasn’t the initial act that drove Nixon from office, it was the endless cover-up that did him in. And there were no “tapes” of Nixon getting golden showers. But in the end, I believe all these comparisons between Richard Nixon and Donald Trump are a little unfair.

After all, Nixon never went to prison.

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

[Exclusive Interview] LUZ Director and Producer Talk Inspiration And The Power of The Supernatural

The German possession film Luz celebrated it’s North American premiere July 20, at the the 2018 Fantasia film festival. Writer/Director were welcomed by a sold-out crowd eager to see their fresh take on the possession sub-genre.

Luz is an experimental film that follows a young cabdriver on the run from a demonic presence. After running for safety into a police station, she is placed under hypnosis for in-depth interrogation, slipping in and out of different memories as they are recalled. Shot on 16mm, Luz is a darkly beautiful film that perfectly captures an authentic 80’s aesthetic. It is a strong debut from talented filmmakers that have crafted something I will not soon forget.

We had a chance to sit down and chat with writer/director Tilman Singer and producer Dario Mendez Acosta after the film’s premiere to discuss hypnosis, horror movies (and surprisingly), Ari Aster’s Hereditary.

      Nightmare on Film Street: [Luz] is a really interesting take on the demonic possession. Are you guys big fans of that genre?

Tilman Singer: I cannot say I am. I mean, I’m a big fan of movies like Possession and The Exorcist, of course but I don’t even know how many possession movies I’ve seen. It just came naturally over research because I was researching hypnotherapy, hypnosis, interrogation and questioning which is so suggestive that you cannot really find the truth when you question somebody. But it became a very clear tool for an evil entity in the movie. It was very devilish, you know, using hypnosis for bad. To manipulate somebody.

[…] People ask me, what were your influences? And of course, I am in love with Dario Argento movies and stuff like that but a lot of that were like, practical decisions that came to bit by bit. That it was a possession movie came later after I had a vision of that whole interrogation scene. And I thought I would be so great if it’s supernatural because hypnosis is something scary, kind of messing with somebody’s head.

  NOFS: I wanted to ask you about the run-time. It’s quite a bit shorter than than I thought it would be. I didn’t know that going in, so I and I didn’t feel like we were missing anything. I was curious if you just wrote it that way and said ‘there’s nothing else we need to add to this’ or if it was just something that happened in editing.

TS: Pretty much. The plan wasn’t to write a feature from the beginning since this is our thesis. I just knew I wanted to write something longer, to try out a little longer form of storytelling than we did before. I was aiming for, like 30 minutes. But then the story got so convoluted that you can’t tell this in 30, and became more and more and more, and we just ended up at 70 minutes. 

NOFS: What did that original 30 minute short look like?

TS: Pretty much just the interrogation, I’d say. And then the whole backstory of the character of Luz and her schoolmates and where she’s coming from, that I put on top on that interrogation. So there had to be like, kind of a foreplay and an aftermath. I think somebody called it a “long short” because it kind of is, you know? she’s entering the police station, and she’s leaving. It’s kind of a typical short movie narrative where you have one action you’re telling. Like, one visit to the store or visit to the police station and when she’s going out, movie’s over.

[…] After I knew, okay, this is gonna get a little bit more longer, and now I’m at like 40 minutes, but I still have a story to tell, I’m not done. I thought to myself, okay, I should at least go over 60, because that is like the threshold for festivals, for calling it a feature, for most of them to be accepted. So, I was going for it but then it naturally becomes 70 minutes. 

And since we didn’t really think of distribution as a thesis, I just didn’t care. And also, I mean, we shot on film and we really did the math on it. We bought exactly as much reels as we ended up shooting. Like, we had half half a reel left or something at the end.

          NOFS: So, a lot of this was done on first take?

TS: No, well there were some first takes but when you shoot film, it’s always good to have a second one because maybe there’s some kind of hair somewhere, even though you check of course. We have three takes in general. I don’t do rehearsals in advance. I do it all on set to get the tension and then you rehearse, rehearse, rehearse, and when you think, okay, now the energies, right, I think the next take will be the best that you have so far. And we’re on the energetic level and then we shoot. It’s so much fun.

NOFS: How was the screening last night? I was really glad to see that you guys sold-out.

TS: That was really nice. It was a really relaxed and nice screening. We had super good feedback and it was really sad to see people get turned away. They tried to fill up every possible spot but there were still people waiting. I even offered them my spot because I’m not really watching it anymore. […]And since I edited it myself, nowadays I just see like, oh this should have been shorter, this should have been longer. 

NOFS: How was the reception? How did the audience like it?

TS: I think they liked it very much. You know, I always do Q&A’s after, and I enjoy them always but I’m always a little bit shy. Last night I was a little bit stoned and I [asked] them “How did you like it”? And of course as like an audience, all of them getting requested and people were like “Oh, yeah, it was good” 

Dario Mendez Acosta: But I think it’s also a bit heavy for them because it’s always, “Yeah, I liked it but I don’t think I got everything”.

TS: And sometimes I don’t even watch Q&A’s. We watched Hereditary and Ari Aster, the director, was there but I did not want to talk about what I just saw. I just wanted to leave.

DMA: I was all in. I wanted to question him

TS: Yeah, you wanted to question him but I was like, ‘No, I don’t want this’, and I wanted to be with myself and like sort that shit out, you know?

DMA: And I was too scared. I don’t want to be alone. I’m there where the most people are

NOFS: It’s weird how many people didn’t like that movie [but] I really want a slow, low-key scare and I think that’s what you’re doing with Luz as well.

TS: Yeah, there’s no jump scares. Just a progression into more and more creepiness. 

            NOFS: So, you said you don’t watch a lot of horror movies?

TS: No, I do, I do. When I was a child I remember clearly I remember the time I was too young to watch horror movies. My parents didn’t let me but I was obsessed with like monsters and scary stuff and violence as a child and I remember my grandmother taking care of me for like two weeks when my parents were on vacation and I forced her to tell them the all the scary movies she’d seen in her life. And she hadn’t. I think she just made up movies and I have some kind of werewolf story in my head  that my grandmother clearly came up with because I tried to find it online and it does not exist the way she told it. But yeah I remember I  fought my parents to finally even watch things like Jurassic Park. I remember I was too young to see Jurassic Park and then I could and it was awesome and scary!

DMA: I’m not good for watching horror movies and, also all this new stuff, this jump scare stuff. This is not working for me and also, I don’t want to be scared but with Hereditary it’s just like it’s something happening there. It’s magical for me and when I asked him like I wanted to know his influences but also different artists to see [more diverse] art than just movie art. And he totally did that. He told me about like several photography artists and it’s interesting to me because I use this also for inspiration.

Tilman showed me a lot of old movies that I should watch that I should know for working on [Luz], like Suspiria and it was really helpful because it was like ‘oh man, it’s like all copper’ or whatever and it’s like ‘oh, you can do this,’ and it’s fine super freeing for me like oh yeah, thank you. I’m going to do that, thsi is really awesome. In general, like, horror movies, I don’t know. I don’t like to be scared, but you have this magic on me working. This is awesome.

        TS: For me it’s not really the scare or the horror, or the terror of it, it’s just- you know, you’re always looking for some kind of conflict and it comes natural with a horror movie or with a supernatural movie, and I like a supernatural element as a standard for something that might be concrete but you don’t want to put it into words. Like, I don’t know incest or rape you can just have a monster symbolically there for it and you can actually talk to more people and give them a safe space to enter, a space like this. For me because it’s so abstract, and then it really touches me emotionally because even though it’s more abstract, it’s about a monster or it’s about the devil or about anything, I don’t get so distant. 

NOFS: It gives you the ability to talk about it without feeling like you’re going to close to it. to close yes

TS: Yes, I think that’s what I like about horror movies

  Luz celebrated its North American premiere at the Fantasia Film Festival in Montreal on July 20th and was recently acquired by Yellow Veil Pictures. Read our full review of Luz HERE.

Check out more of Nightmare on Film Street’s Fantasia Fest Coverage here, and be sure to sound off with your thoughts over on Twitter and in our Facebook Group!

    The post [Exclusive Interview] LUZ Director and Producer Talk Inspiration And The Power of The Supernatural appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

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[konstantinwrites]

Treasures from the Roof of the Insurmountable, Part 1

Small Worlds XI (Wassily Kandinsky)

Hi friends! So, I ranked all 42 songs of the 2017 Eurovision Song Contest. It was as simple as comparing each song to every other and missing every social event for a month. I didn’t give /10 scores and didn’t add a bunch of space between songs to signify gaps in quality, like a cool blog would. However, many generous friends of mine reviewed these songs as well. For an alternative, reasonable point of view, theirs is here.

I understand that asking to listen to 42 three-minute songs on the Internet should be reserved for astonishing lovers, but I hope that you’ll give them a play. The reviews are based primarily on the studio versions, linked in the title, but for fun I more strongly recommend the embedded live performances. This turned into an epic nine-parter only by luck -- Tumblr wisely halts this kind of obsessiveness by setting a limit of five embedded videos per post. 

Anyway, I think you’ll like at least some songs. Not this next one, but some.

42: Spirit of the Night by Valentina Monetta and Jimmie Wilson (San Marino) (Returnee, Eurovision 2012, 2013, 2014)

I will make a conscious effort not to embalm you in Eurovision completely, but I have to bend here since Valentina Monetta breaks all unwritten rules anyway. This was her fourth Eurovision appearance, all for the Most Serene Republic of San Marino, in six years. San Marino houses less people than you saw this weekend, sure, but there are probably a few other musicians in the country that would like a boost to their career.

Maybe some of them were on stage for 2012’s timely “The Social Network Song” (titled “The Facebook Song”, pre-zucc), with which Valentina began her pillage of this contest. (If you have patience for exactly one hyperlink...)

 The lyrics incandesce:

Are you ready for a little chat?/And a song about the Internet It's a story ‘bout a social door/You’ve never seen before;

And the “Social Network” music video, all morning bedsheets and Safari browsing and wild leers into camera, is like the aftertaste of a burp from the dude who ran ARK Music Factory. 

Throughout the last eon, the early to mid 2010′s, peace still ruled. It was underpinned by dark respect for the creature, and fear, but effective and true peace it was. In Year 3, Monetta qualified to the grand final. Appearing in that show was supposed to be the prologue to another Sammarinese age of serenity. Yes, she breathed too hard and accidentally set the Finnish commentators on fire, then threshed her wings and flew out through the arena roof. Human Eurovision performers have gimmicks, too. It was our Monetta, we prayed to her benevolence, and she made other countries and micronational principalities respect us as well.

But we grew tired of living in fear ourselves. If our Monetta was truly done with this world, we would be happy to raise a new generation in peace. Families waited to resettle back to their birth land, planning carefully. At dawn, sometimes, you noted the unsavory magicks in the distance, still discharging in the air. The tribe elders knew that kids were their most important constituency: every evening, a few fun rhymes with the kids that made each of the elders look silly; every forgathering, the children could run off after roll call. Irreverence and joy, with which the children played games on the hills, was as crucial as the considered warnings that the adults were made to hear.

Come spring, at the agora, Elder Dendroch took his deepest breath of the year, all wheeze, as he screwed in the VGA cable to the projector, casting the San Marino 2015 Eurovision artist announcement onto the smooth side of the hill. During the countdown, even All-Naked Christoph went silent. This was to determine his capacity to continue to gyrate himself around the fire each morning without being clawed by Monetta and thrown into the nearest cactus. Her swift retributions of All-Naked Christoph was one of the few Acts that the tribe was grateful for; however, now they yearned for calm and agency. They were ready to pay the price -- and cover their eyes at breakfast.

What a cheer, then. It was, indeed, someone else for 2015. The slothful bards were worth their silver on this day, spooling blunt limericks on the spot, tribesfolk teary with laughter. The eyes of all, awash with joy and soapy bubbles, feasted on daydreams about this new era. Resettling back to town, with everything as it has been (apart from the bread, now a furry green pet), we gleefully watched Anita Simoncini rap -- for we could scream, “No!”. The year after that, Serhat proselytized us, trying to make what sounded like, “I am a dick tit” happen. We loved telling him that it’s not going to happen, and besides, he was the neighboring queen’s chief accountant and she was not letting him out on any more trips like that. Our power was back.

But, well... You saw the rest. You saw 2017. Not even Mostly-Naked Christoph thought that eurodance would rise again. Not even the gloomiest of the kids ever had in mind that Monetta was always in control, and that there is nothing that we can ever do but point our projector at the stars.

“Spirit of the Night” is a dance anthem structured around a conversation between two horny and dim-witted patrons of a San Marino club. “Hey, are you the one I dream about?/Baby, I am.” After successfully capturing his target’s interest with this awful line, the man proceeds to use amateur pick-up artistry to delve into the murky depths of her insecurity. “Every time I see you smile/There is sadness in your eyes.” 

Luckily for him, his quarry eats this obvious nonsense up. After connecting through dance, he seals the deal by revealing that he’s a hurt, insecure man who is in need of a woman to protect him. “Hey, are you the one to take my pain?/Just take my hand/I’ve been so hurt before, it’s hard to trust again.” Nonstop key changes and a reference to obscure weather phenomena attempt to mask the utter vacuity of “Spirit of the Night,” but nobody is fooled. 1/10.

Richard Hansen

41: Keep The Faith by Tamara Gachechiladze (Georgia)

Ten seconds in, this has all the potential in our supercluster. It becomes “Keep The Faith”, but that moody horn-driven bar can lead into a Jay-Z track, a Antony and the Johnsons symphony, or the title screen of “Swordfish”. But it becomes “Keep The Faith”, and it’s a little awkward; I live and work in Georgia, and super enjoy this country. 

However, this song is derivative garbage, devoid of any sensory pleasure. It has many siblings, songs of this type, all grey, parts-per-million pollutant specks. It’s a pure ballad and a very specific type of ballad, none of which have ever been enjoyable: pie-eyed on piano, throaty-vocaled, vowel-elongating, forcefully important, crudely pitch-raising, artless fat zeppelins of songs, avoiding melodiousness by purpose and not even by chance. 

I like the few seconds in the bridge where Tamara and the backup singers go, “Oh - ohhh - oh! - ohhh!”, and I like the final string cadences, the last two notes in the song. I wish they’d signaled the end to something not so comprehensively dopey.

Please also let me just add here that I adore “Mzeo” by Mari Mamadashvili, the Georgian winner of Junior Eurovision 2016. 

I’ve cried listening to it. I’ve showed her performance to many people. Don’t revoke my residence permit. Look at how much good stuff Billy wrote.

Having heard a plethora of Georgian music over the past year, I really didn’t have my hopes up going into this one. But I have to hand it to Tamriko, she may have actually pulled it off. The song’s video isn’t much to talk about, and I found the opening lyrics about hiding behind a veil and then panning to a woman in a hijab to be slightly off color, but the tune and subsequent lyrics are actually pretty cool. One might say the video had my sentiments shaken, but not stirred. That’s right, I referenced James Bond (Jamesi Bondi) and how could I not? The ominous violin, three-key piano repetition and horns - the song practically screams, “put us in the next movie!” and I happen to agree.

If we got rid of the whole weird hip-but-frowning aspect and replaced it with an unmistakable gun-toting secret agent silhouette, complete with tastefully nude female figurines, Georgia might actually have a hit on their hands. Don’t get me wrong, I am a big believer in letting music speak for itself and in many ways this song does, but at the end of the day it’s also a pop song and that music video HAS to be tight. Get this out to Eon Productions, Georgia; I’ll be disappointed if Ed Sheeran gets to do another title sequence.

As far as vocals go, Tamro fits the role pretty nicely - she can really belt it and it adds to the overall grandness of the song. As a matter of fact, grand is probably the word I would use to describe this. It’s the kind of song that makes you clench your fists and pump your arms dramatically and ceremoniously. Tamo’s powerful vocals and lyrics are engaging and entertaining; my only real worry is that with such a Bond-sounding song, people might have a difficult time seeing it as its own thing. Not to mention, if people dislike James Bond, they’re probably just going to see this as some hack interpretation of an Adele hit. While some might view it as lacking in theme originality, I see it as a distinguished work operating in a certain genre (a difficult one at that). I don’t think the sky will be falling on this song any time soon! Qochagh, Sakartvelo! 8/10.

Billy Moran

40: Gravity by Hovig (Cyprus)

The lifetime of this adult contemporary rockvomit is: released to the suffering masses, all 4th grade boys for three days repeat-blast “Gravity” on the family speakers, then torrent Battlefield and yelp and chaotically shake their faces to its menu music and forget about “Gravity” forever. No other integration of this song into a human life can be permitted.

This wailing, free trial-distortion-effects, tragically detached one-dimensional nonsense would take aback a NHL video highlights editor, and they’re immune to this stuff. “Gravity” is for a montage of, like, a corrupted toothpaste factory, where the toothpaste is evil. There is something a little demonic with the toothpaste. It’s been breached. There are lich in the toothpaste, hiding themselves and their sorcery, and they now terrorize users of toothpaste all over the world. Only those who still use tooth powder have not yet turned. With this paragraph, I have now released more beauty into this world than the Cypriot entry. I’m not proud of putting lich and toothpaste together. I know I’ll answer for this one day. Sometimes you have to drive a point home.

This is a solidly made pop ballad with a catchy chorus that I could see getting good radio play for about two weeks before being promptly forgotten. While somewhat catchy on first listen, it quickly loses its appeal and you realize there is nothing more there than another over-produced pop song that makes oatmeal look plain and generic. This song is the definition of standard, meaningless pop. It's begging for some sort of edge to it, some sprinkles to go with its vanilla. As is, I'd much rather listen to “Hook” by Blues Travelers.

Ryan Haskell

39: Dying to Try by Brendan Murray (Ireland)

I like Brendan’s voice. For 54 seconds, he makes a serviceable dyingtotry. I like that the first line of this Segway-speed ballad gets close to saying, “Take a leak of faith with me”. I like his tuneful delivery through the lightly layered first minute, and you could stroll to this and take sips of still water and feel correct.

Then the songwriters take out their game hunting rifles, trundle us into the basement and serve us a soup of impotent key change, never-ending chorus and string accompaniment, all of which we would spoon out of the dish in a less savage situation. You eat — you have to — belch, relax a bit, and then notice Brendan at the table, his meal long finished, as he mouths to you, “trying to die”.

As an American who grew up American, with American parents and American grandparents, I myself am American. That said, I definitely identify with the Irish a bit - they’re my ancestral roots and I root for the guys for sure. But I have to say, Brendan Murray, bud, you let me down. The song can be summed up in one word: boring. The kid looks to be about 15 and, sure, he has some pipes (little Irish pun there), but I have to believe these impressively high notes he’s hitting have more to do with his lack of pubic advancement and less with actual talent.

The music video takes us on the journey of love’s rocky road, complete with a daughter of Elrond and a poodle man that would make Dr. Moreau jealous. Perhaps I would have paid more attention to the lyrics if the featured couple were less visually jarring. I mean, the woman was fine… But the poodle man! That hair! There’s a million elf-y looking guys in Ireland to complement the girl, and they choose that guy!

My biggest complaint comes at the peak of the song’s rising action. Brian is walking through the grassy knolls of Ireland, as one does, and the viewer is treated to a beautiful melancholy landscape that just screams of Ireland. But instead of giving the listener something to complement the breathtaking view, we get a gospel choir harmony as Brian dives into his chorus. It was the perfect moment to incorporate cultural music - so poorly utilized by Israel - and Ireland missed it! If a lovely flute had accompanied Brian as the camera raced across the Irish shoreline back to our visually perplexing couple, I think I would have poured a shot of Jameson on the spot and shed a tear for all the struggling lovers in the emerald isle. Instead, the song loses its identity and all my invested interest is gone with it.

Brian, the wise fifteen-year-old he is, ever wary of love’s slings and arrows, tells us, “No one can promise that love will ever learn how to fly”, but I can promise Brian that his song won’t be flying to the top of any billboard charts. Maybe something a little more fun next year, huh Ireland? Sláinte! 4/10.

Billy Moran

38: My Turn by Martina Bárta (Czech Republic)

The indifferently mute student can be the most frustrating. Staring at the arithmetic poster for two minutes at a time, boring with their pen more and more millimeters of their desk hole, finding the right moments to sip a hidden can of Fanta with the vigilance of a mosquito pursuing a meal from a human absentmindedly playing the Chrome dinosaur game -- apathetic students cause little obvious trouble in class. However, asked to contribute to any task, their monastic silence and translucency can drop a teacher’s command of the classroom to the floor. Other students, especially ones wavering between “kind of paying attention” and the Frowning Face With Open Mouth emoji, sense the student’s apathy, think that the lessons are, indeed, for nothing, and mentally teleport themselves out of there as well.

Which brings me to “My Turn”. It would be out of date during Pangaea, but out of date is very often fine. The prime disappointment is that it has a harmonious, sentimental melody to throw around, as most ballads do, but concretely refuses to get out of the hotel elevator, or the Saturday morning wine tasting. There are many piano works like these; it shouldn’t be an excuse to bunt and be another, especially because it’s got a pleasant tune. I’ve listened to “My Turn” at least 30 times and can recall the main progression with roughly the same clarity as remembering why Fletcher Christian mutinied and vamoosed to Pitcairn Island, the Wikipedia summary of which I probably read once, or maybe someone told me. Before going home, Teacher Eurovision will leave an inspirational message for Martina on her desk. “You can be different!” The next morning it’ll only be used with a shout of, “Kobe!” and be another clump a few feet from the trash basket.

Czech Republic’s Eurovision results, 2007 (debut) to 2017:  28th in a 28-song semifinal; 18th in a 19-song semifinal; 18th in a 18-song semifinal; Not participating for five years (understandably); 13th in a 17-song semifinal; 9th in a 18-song semifinal, 25th in a 26-song final; 13th in a 18-song semifinal.

Czech selection committee: just put a donk on it. You’ll like the results.

Not only did Ms. Martina choose to submit a song written in English to the Annual Eurovision Ritual, helping the beast of globalization devour her culture and language, but she also submitted a song with lyrics so boring that they flee from my mind immediately after I’ve heard them, as if Gilderoy Lockhart himself has just charmed them directly out of my cerebellum. Lyrics: 2/10.

Luckily, the music video itself is far more interesting than the song itself. I’m at least 80% sure this video depicts what people experience while rolling on Ecstasy. Nude bodies of various age and shape, writhing in ways that are at once harmonious and cacophonous. Here an old white man finds peace in a warm-towel embrace of a large black man. There a bald man hangs his head in his ultimate shame only to be comforted by an equally bald woman. At one point the bacchanalian dancers just all freeze and turn their heads sharply to one side, staring at the audience with eyes that contain something between abject misery and ultimate pleasure. Disturbing! Music video: 7/10. I found this video hilarious. Personal enjoyment: 9/10.

Cody Phillips