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honoringthehorrific · 2 years

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I watched Pearl before X and here's what I thought...

XXX Tonight's review is a lengthy one so as always, Remember...Spoilers ahead! XXX

I think I would tell anyone who hasn't seen X to stop, figure out when they have free time, go to your local theater and buy a ticket for Pearl before hearing anything I have to say about anything.

This movie won my heart tenfold. It was complicated at first but visually I loved it. I loved all the cute little jokes about the spanish influenza and how it mirrored our own pandemic. This movie is horribly and beautifully tragic and if I may peel back a bit of the barrier we have and get a bit personal, it was also relatable. Pearl wants more from life. She loves her family and friend, she loves her husband, but she wants more. She is very mentally ill and has a lot of responsibilities that she really didn't ask for... (Personal junk feel free to skip this paragraph if its uncomfortable to know more about me or if its too distracting from the review.) I related so horribly to pearl. She is pressured to give up her dreams and stay home, to take care of her invalid father and help her mother. When coming to college my father guilted me relentlessly. I needed to stay home. Focus on helping my grandfather. Forget college and spend my life at home caring for my grandfather, caring or any new offspring he decided to churn out with my step mother, and ultimately care for him when he became old. Every slip along the way was cannon foder. It was constantly about how selfish I was, or how stupid I was...and every conversation pearl had with her mother hit strings in my heart far too close to home. My grandfather wants me at school...But also hearing pearl talk to her father before she is about to sacrifice him made my heart bleed. She wished that he would just die already so she wouldn't feel like she was abandoning him...And while I can't say I've not had those awful thoughts I can say the guilt she keeps feeling tug of war-ed with is so deeply real and accurate and painful...

The way the events unfold is so artfully done. I dont believe I'd ever seen a Ti West movie before this but If this is anything like the rest of his work I think he would be one of my favorite writers/directors. Pearl's behaviors, the guilt she feels, her reactions feel so natural and real and while part of that is the beautiful writing, I believe it's also dependent on Mia Goth's wonderful acting. She truly sells this character and her struggles to you in a gorgeous bright red package. I loved the visual elements from the old movies, the old fonts and the way the credits looked like the westerns I sit on the couch with my grandpa to watch. The special effects, the way things rot and decay in such repulsively beautiful visuals. The dresses, the scenery, this whole movie shows you what it is.

Pearl's mental health is greatly impacted by her life and surroundings. From living in poverty to her mother's no hand outs way of thinking. Everything affects pearl. The relationship between her and her mother is extremely interesting to me. Pearl longs to dance and be famous and her mother begs her to put her dreams to rest. Her mother shows great distain for pearl's dreams and as the movie reaches climax, distain for pearl herself. Something that pushes pearl over the already far gone edge. Pearl gets this satisfying moment after her mother accidentally gets burnt alive where she spits her own harsh words back at her mother before running off. Her mental illness spikes when she sleeps with a projectionist she met a few days prior. Theres hope that he will pluck her up and take her away from this horrible mess she's made.

I was so interested to see how pearl handles abandonment and a little embarassed to feel her reactions were relatable. The way she begs the projectionist to know what she did. How angry she gets and how she screams her words into a slurry at him. When he tells her she is frightening him how personally she takes it. How when she gets to the dance auditions her mask has slipped off entirely. Telling mitsy her sister in law that the winner has to be her. There is no other way. This is the only way she can get away. Getting to the stunning monologue scene....She confesses everything she's done to mitsy. All her dark feelings...All the times shes wished people died...All the thoughts of killing. How she longs to go back to how things were but also how she feels the people in her life have slighted her. After all of this she starts speaking to mitsy directly about her fears in what I think speaks to me as someone with mental illness the most. "Do people like you feel this way? I figure you don't. You seem so perfect all the time. Lord must have been generous to you. He never answers any of my prayers. I don't know why. What did i do? What is wrong with me?...Please just tell me so i can get better. I don't wanna end up like mama. - I want what they have so badly. To be perfect. To be loved by as many people as possible. To make up for all my time spent suffering. Sometimes i lie awake in the middle of the night and the fear washes over me because what if this is it. What if this is where I belong...I'm a failure. - I dont know why what did i do? - I hate what it feels like to be me and not you. I'm so scared that when you get home you'll see me and be frightened like everyone else is - I hurt them so they too might know how it feels to suffer but poor daddy...He didn't deserve that. I wish i hadn't done what i did...Mama meant well. - I thought i hated her but i just wanted to feel safe too."

When Mitsy goes to leave Pearl keeps asking if she will tell...Like so many of us who spill our horrible thoughts to the people we trust. Begging them to not tell. Begging them to only see us the way they did before we slipped. Asking Mitsy if she is frightened by the things she heard...Asking Mitsy if she think's shes sick.

Things come to a bigger head when mitsy realizes pearl knows she won the audition. Pearl bitterly remarks that Mitsy always gets what she wants... Mitsy has to leave soon after and pearl gives chase. Once Mitsy is dispatched of pearl makes quick work to clean things up. Make them like they once were. Placing her father and mother at the dinner table to eat the rotten maggot infested pig we've been seeing on their porch to show us the passage of time. It reminds me of a child playing pretend...Of maybe myself in some uncomfortable ways...Watching someone so sick trying to pick up broken pieces and force them back into place like before knowing that too many pieces have chipped off in the process of breaking and they will never be the way they once were.

Her husband howard comes home horrified at the scene before him and we get to watch pearl choke back tears as she grins at her husband. Staring at her fear reflected back at her. That he truly is horrified. That maybe saving herself for his return was the wrong course of action. That this life is truly all she has. We get to see this horrific tear filled smile tremble uncomfortably. A similar look we might give to ourselves passing our reflection durring a bloody red faced break down. A sort of bandaid on the matter. A grin to try and trick your brain into thinking everything is fine.

I left the theater wanting more. I left the theater thrilled to see X and even more thrilled for the third installment Maxxxine. I'm hoping the other installments are as phenomenal as this one even if they dont tug at those same painful strings. Over all i'd give this movie a 10/10. It was beautiful and confusing and heart wrenching and makes me wonder how our pearl has aged in this first installment.

#regurgitated reviews #reanimated reccomendations #pearl 2022 #pearl movie #x movie #x 2022

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sketching-shark · 1 year

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Given the interpretations of JTTW/Xiyouji - what is your opinion on when media or even solo creators make a romance for Wukong?

Especially since most of Wukong's romances in media end up played for tragedy as well as the fact that from a textbook analysis he seems very no love/no sex/only friendship.

Innocent interpretations for their personal enjoyment or does it feel more harmful to the character of Wukong as a whole and fetishy?

Given Xiyouji and Wukong in general has such an influential swathe over culture/pop culture as a whole and the uh...quite gross mishandling of him at times from Western culture (Ex. Making him some musclebound meathead who only cares for violence which doesn't only devalue his character but the East-Asian view of masculinity as a whole.) or Anime culture. (Ex; making him a 'Yandere' style obsessive partner which may be interesting when played off his previous lifestyle as a Yaoguai - but most of the time isn't and is simply played to be a 'love me or else' danger boyfriend.)

What do you think of it all? Especially with the prevalence of a lot of this stuff propping up due to LMK?

Feel free to read more if you want to watch me complain lmao

Hmmmm OKAY so I do need to preface this by noting that I've now run across a number of retellings/presentations of Sun Wukong composed by eastern creators that made me deeply uncomfortable or even straight-up be like "well I hope I forget that exists forever!" because of the ways in which the monkey king was oversexualized and/or painted into extreme grimdark territory. So it's pretty obvious that western creators aren't unique in some of the ways that Sun Wukong gets flanderized to hell and back.

And while being very much aware that what one sees in the west for free on youtube is a very small sample size of big-budget retellings of Xiyouji, a LOT of those retellings with a Monkey King romance have an incredibly samey plot of "Sun Wukong is a dick-->he encounters some lady and is a dick to her-->she likes him anyway-->he softens up a bit-->she dies-->he's sad-->her death still gives him the powerup needed to defeat the big bad." I know that the angle is tragedy but oh my god at this point the 500 year old text that presents Sun Wukong as a communal grandpa that will do literally anything for his family including challenging the heavens & how this comes back to bite them all in the collective ass BUT they still love each other very much and Sun Wukong never stops fighting for them and doing everything he can to make them happy and safe speaks far more to tragedy that's balanced out with hope & is far more original than many a contemporary retelling in my opinion! tbh i wouldn't be surprised if this was one of the reasons why Monkey King: Hero Is Back became so popular that it basically revived Chinese animation; it's one of those rare retellings that puts the emphasis on dad/protector of children Wukong rather than lover Wukong, and as a result 2015 SWK still seems to have a special place in the hearts of many.

But turning back to western creators in both individual and big-budget productions, I guess my main gripe would have to be not so much that your meathead/yandere/destructive monkey presentations of SWK exist (you'll find such depictions across the globe), but that these often seem to be undeniably the most popular, the most common, and at times the ONLY ways that the Monkey King is understood in the west. As it is eastern countries like China do seem to have their share of such depictions, but there's also a abundance of other understandings/portrayals of the Monkey King, including those of him being a dedicated and quick-witted being, a tireless protector of children, and oh yeah a literal buddha! I've joked before about how hellbent many western creators seem to be in taking the "intelligent" out of "intelligent stone primate," but looking over the ways that SWK is commonly presented in the west...well, can you really say that this isn't the case? Honestly at times SWK really feels like he's become yet another victim of narrative monoculturalization in the west, where one version becomes the Official one and barely anyone deviates from it. Personally I feel it particularly sucks that this Official version seems to have become one where the Monkey King is routinely presented as a destructive idiot whose only worth lies in this weird frenemies relationship to the Six Eared Macaque :( (though I will say it's kind of fascinating how western creators so completely rewrote the True and False Monkey King arc that it's the Six Eared Macaque and not Sun Wukong who's become the definitely preferred individual. Dude finally achieved his goal of replacing the Monkey King lol).

In a number of ways this disparity does make sense. Besides Xiyouji definitely not having the same cultural impact in the west as it does in the east, there's very few decent English translations out there, and even fewer that give due course to the entire story. As far as I'm aware the Anthony C. Yu translation is the only one to do so, and yeah it's understandable that many people wouldn't or couldn't make their way through 1,400+ pages worth of narrative and footnotes. Plus there's the added fact that the east has more traditions of monkeys being understood as tricksters, whereas in the west primates have long been framed as man's poor imitation with ties to the Devil himself, so you can get some sense of why/how SWK's destructive tendencies would be emphasized above all else. Plus it certainly doesn't help that the two(2) primary ways that western audiences are learning about the Monkey King & co. are through cartoony retellings, which are fine in of themselves but when that's the ONLY popular version you have well you are not going to end with a complex or even a positive impression of the Monkey King. And it definitely definitely doesn't help that one of those versions--even while it is a silly lego show--consistently presents Sun Wukong as an absolute failure that basically everyone either has good reason to be mad at or just flat-out hates. And yeah you see this getting emphasized even further in fandom creations a lot, with many a popular fan work being all about how Sun Wukong ruined everything and/or getting yelled at & punched for being a cataclysmic moron. Like hell there's a very good chance I'm not looking hard enough but I don't remember coming across a single piece of recent fan work for Monkie Kid that shows Sun Wukong actually being a good mentor or actively doing something positive. The emphasis is pretty much only ever on his relationship with Macaque, and for that how thoroughly he screwed it up.

So going back to your original question anon, I would say that in it's abstract the idea of giving Sun Wukong a romance isn't inherently a bad thing. It's just that (and maybe it's just me) for a variety of reasons, in both eastern and western creations, in both individual fandom and big-budget works, I've pretty much never seen it done well lmao.

#anon answered #monkey critical #sun wukong #monkey king #also romance for sun wukong seems to almost always make him an abrasive jerk #can we please explore some facets of his character besides that & being a goofy monkey

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epitomees · 1 year

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Name: Hanamura Yosuke

Your age: 18

Your perfect date: Anything that doesn’t involve me being sweaty. Seriously, the sweatiness of sports isn’t my lifestyle.

Make out in public or private: You know, I really don’t think you’re that kind of person! I don’t mean to like, offend you if it did, but really, I don’t see you being the type to deliver sloppy kisses.

Do you like to cuddle?: Sure? You don’t really seem like a cuddlebug...

Tell me something about you: I like music? Not enough to pursue it as my major, it could work as a minor, but I like it enough. You probably wouldn’t believe it, but I have decent English thanks to all the “Western” songs I listen to. I don’t think you’d need a tutor for that at all, but maybe we could watch movies or listen to English songs and improve? You might need it in case you travel internationally for work or something.

Why do you want to be my valentine?: I’m just going to say it outright. I want to be your Valentine because I like you, Naoto. And don’t try to brush this off as a friendship type of love. I’m talking about the romantic type of like. You invade my thoughts at least once a day and ever since I figured it out, my life hasn’t known peace! I have to dodge questions from my parents and Teddie! You’re the culprit of this little case, Detective Shirogane, and only you can stop your own crimes!

But seriously I really like you and I guess if you wanna like date me that’s cool but if not that’s also cool now okay i better deliver this before i feel so embarrassed and ashamed that I—

A VALENTINE’S APPLICATION.

The day passed without much unnecessary attention. Just as expected. Going unnoticed and under the radar of many other Yasogami students proved to side well with the young detective. No irrelevant gifts of affection, hollow words confessing a person's deeper feelings, nothing pertaining to a manufactured holiday meant for large retailers' sales source. Why bother recognizing a consumer celebration for the purpose of professing unrequited love towards another individual?

It's useless. Not to mention, any day could be recognized as such. Why follow society's standards of containing something potentially life-changing to a single day. It's stupid. Useless, and stupid.

After vacating the school grounds, before being drawn in to the lovesick disease spreading over the student body, Naoto made way towards Junes. Grandpa requested a few ingredients for dinner tonight, along with a small replenishment of their kitchen spices. A simple, short trip. In and out, then the rest of the day passed peacefully without any trivial gift-giving. Teddie was seen handing out small cups of sample food, and Yosuke suddenly...flailing aggressively towards her general direction. Something must have flabbergasted him since he didn't speak a word to the girl, or explain why he shoved a piece of paper in her hands.

He left without Naoto asking a single question. Strange.

If it was so important why scamper and run without giving a reason? Odd behavior, increased sweating, heaved breaths...a number of possibilities led to Yosuke's erratic etiquette. The note, perhaps?

Most of the food court's seats appeared vacant, albeit lingering Yasogami students treating their 'significant other' to the cheap steak. Typical. She took a seat farther away from most others, while taking her time to even out the crumpled edges of Hanamura's letter. It read more legibly, but of course...it...it was something she hoped wouldn't ever be given to her...

This was a confession. Or perhaps, one of those friend applications many teenagers participated in around the holiday. Not something of her interest, but if Hanamura took the time to fill this out just for her...why bother throwing it away before reading its contents? Afterwards, just in case he approached her for further inquiries. Her eyes scanned each ledger, as if this were another police report or evidence document. Only important words stuck, but not many were necessarily important on this paper. Except...

'You’re the culprit of this little case, Detective Shirogane, and only you can stop your own crimes!'

It's meaningless, or should be, yet Naoto kept reading it over. Twice, three times now...and each one built up a knot constricting inside her stomach. It wasn't present before she took her seat, neither when Hanamura rushed in a beeline for her general position. Now, however, it was different. It was new, yet still painful. It settled uncomfortably. But on top of it, it felt exciting too.

Why...? Why did a simple sentence make her feel so tight? So...breathless, even?

Enough contemplation. The more Naoto muddled over the statement, along with the additionally invitation at the bottom, the more confusing these matters appeared. Dinner time quickly approached. Grandpa expected her arrival home before sunset. She rather continue this internal debate somewhere out of the public eye...and perhaps, farther away from the source of this turmoil.

#ic #Naoto #kaeruninja #Case Closed! - Post P4 Verse #((me making this more complicated than necessary?#it's more likely than you think #Yosuke hitting her with the one liner and her going '...oh no I am experiencing human emotions'))#long post

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6ad6ro · 2 years

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i always think to this time i was a kid playing killer instinct gold at my grandparents and there was family around. and they were like "hey this game doesn't have a ton of blood and isn't super violent right?" and i was like "it isn't too bad just monsters fighting" and they were like "okay".

and i accidentally did a "fatality" or whatever on the wolfman guy and he flew off a roof, but there wasn't blood or anything? just a werewolf flyin off a roof howling. and i started laughing awkwardly because i realised maybe they would think that was a lil much and complain a lil? but before i could say anything my grandpa just got up and like angrily ripped the cord out of the wall. i don't know how to explain how "violent" it felt. and like the whole family shamed the shit out of me because "i was a bad kid acting up". and that bad memory always haunts me.

but you know what? that bitch watched cowboy movies like 24/7. with dudes killin people and dudes falling off roofs. and NOT spaghetti westerns. i mean the OLD cowboy movies where they glorified genocide etc. and he had it on in front of the kids and we'd watch it with him. he was the type to go hunting/fishing with his grandkids as an outing. etc etc etc and btw the family was super into lord of the rings and star wars and superhero stuff (not violent at all, right)?

so honestly... i think i was just like "they shouldn't care" and sorta trying to show them that what i liked wasn't "bad" or "evil". i was trying to see if i could be honest with them, even tho i knew there was a chance they might not react well? and they pretty much confirmed all my fears. that they were total hypocrites. a bunch of stereotypical religious weirdos who claim to care about others but then spend their whole lives damning everyone around them for doin the same types of things they did. i think deep down even back then i knew they were hopeless. they wonder now why i don't speak to them but idk MAYBE BECAUSE YOU GUYS SHAMED THE SHIT OUTTA ME AND MADE ME FEEL LIKE GARBAGE FOR NO REASON??

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moose-a-licious · 2 months

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My mom made me this sock monkey from an old pair of my dad’s socks.

When we were at my mom’s family once, my grandpa called my brother and I monkeys. It started because of my brother’s ears are big, my brother was still a toddler at the time.

I remember sitting there, knowing it wasn’t right but I didn’t know why. My mom struck verbally right away. I just sat there swinging my legs while eating my sandwich. She made me feel so proud to have her as my mom, she wasn’t loud except for certain words she wanted to emphasize.

“Well, I’m a dumb monkey so it’s ok for me to call them that.”

My mom made him feel shame for that. He never called us or himself that again when we were with him.

The only television or media my grandparents would watch (besides evangelical products), was old John Wayne westerns and a handful of black and white movies.

I remember one of them had Reagan and a monkey kid? It was weird.

When I think of my other grandpa, I think of how he would watch Native Reports with me. It was the only time Fox News wasn’t on. He told me he wanted me to watch it because of my mom and the land where my dad grew up. Also, he had friends at the mines that watched too.

He would watch so intently from the top of his newspaper. It reminded me of when he listened to polka music in the basement.

My dad really loves Weird Al.

#Spotify

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hobisfavoritespritecan · 2 years

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Dating Cliff Booth Would Include:

Just some cute little headcannons!

⚠️ Warnings: language, sexual innuendos, drug use, sexy Dilf Brad Pitt? ⚠️

The way you met was strange; you were at a gas station somewhere in the western parts of Hollywood when you saw a yellow 1966 Cadillac Coupe de Ville pull up out front. Sporting a Hawaiian shirt brighter than the sun and a cigarette dangling from his teeth, the man walked in and announced that he needed heavy duty cleaner because there was blood on the hood of his car. From whom, you didn't know but with the way he flashed his teeth at you and slicked back his hair, you knew that you were in more trouble than whomever Cliff Booth decided to beat up that day.

He had promised himself that he would never get married again after the incident, but you were too goddamn charming and the way your shorts rode up your thighs.......

His bright smile and even brighter persona is what drew you in; a nice contrast against your usual pessimistic attitude and overall sense that the universe was out to stab you in the back.

And your pessimism is what drew him in, you were always real with him and watching a smile light up your face after a joke he made was like heroin to him. And he also found it funny how you managed to trip over nothing when you were lost in your rants about how the seats in his car were too warm or how the sky hurt your eyes.

Long car rides where you share the aux cord- him usually going for something along the lines of Billy Idol and your response with the Sex Pistols.

In this instance, opposites really do attract.

But you loved him good and that's what he had been searching for, unbeknownst to him. He didn't think he would ever date someone with a significant age difference, but the fact that you were fresh into your twenties didn't seem to bother him too much.

On the occasion where you two would play-fight, you would call him grandpa and that would shut up any other insults he could come up with.

Him having pet names for you, which you usually hated but allowed him to continue.

Some examples of these would be: Darling, Babe, Princess, but his all time favorite would be little shrimp because he knew it pissed you off.

And your pet names for him were usually: Love, Babe, Love of my Life, Asshole, and Cowboy. Cowboy was because of his southern accent.....probably.

HIM HOLDING YOUR THIGH WHILE HE DRIVES LORD SAVE ME NOW

Becoming best friends with Rick Dalton because of your close proximity to Cliff all the time.

Spending time with Rick watching his movies while Cliff busies himself with making margaritas in the kitchen.

To which you drink with haste, whereas the other boys take it a bit slower because chances are that they're drunk already.

Laying down on Cliff while you talk to Rick about filming. Rick rolling a joint and offering one to you and Cliff.

Your favorite thing about Cliff though, was his dog.

Brandy instantly loved you and you didn't have to rub peanut butter all over your face for this to be true, unlike your husband.

Getting married with just the two of you and Rick; a bright sunny day in the middle of absolutely nowhere, your only other guests being tumbleweeds and sand.

Having antique rings that the both of you thrifted.

Cliff says it's because, "We're keepin' love alive."

Rick allowing the two of you to spend the night at his place since the camper is usually a mess and is a bit too small for the two of you.

You usually are able to make room when he-

And he-

And on the table where he-

And sometimes even outside when you-

And then in the back of Rick's car sometimes-

Y'all are horny, that's the point.

Wearing Cliff's shirts!!!!!!???

"Hey, that's my favorite yellow one!"

"it's my favorite too, now help me match it with one of your glasses."

He obliges.

Rolling up to pick up Rick but making him sit in the back because he's the third wheel now.

Sometimes he likes to throw a fit about how "movie stars ride in the front, pimps in the back," to which he receives a nice finger from you and an insult about his haircut. It's okay though because you can pet Cliff's hair from the backseat as he drives.

Grabbing snacks for the road!!! You usually grab a coffee and a bag of Twizzlers while Cliff opts for a protein bar and a lemonade.

Kissing Cliff in public all the time.

Like- all the time.

Everywhere.

Cuddling while watching movies and sitting in his lap while you fuss over his hair and making out with him while he pumps gas.

The possibilities are endless.

Chilling with Rick in his pool while listening to his tapes for auditions and giving him advice where you see fit.

Also stealing Rick's sunglasses.

"Where the f-f-fuck are m-my sunglasses?! Cliff??"

"My lady's wearin' em."

"W-well tell her to take em off!"

"Little Shrimp, can you give Rick his glasses back?"

"Nope."

"There's your answer."

Wearing skimpy outfits just because you know you're fucking with your husband.

And him taking his shirts off whenever he decides to work on a project and watching you get all hot and flustered.

Going to restaurants and choosing the wackiest things off the menu, trying to one up each other with your weirdness.

Usually sharing bits and pieces of your meals with each other.

Listening to him talk for hours about his favorite movies and musicians.

And him listening to you talk about yours.

All in all, y'all love each other.

My heart hurts.

#cliff booth #cliff booth x reader #brad pitt #brad pitt x reader #hollywood #luxury hilltop home where the mansons killed sharon tate listed for $85million – with infinity pool and incredible views #rick dalton #quentin tarantino #ouatih #fanfiction #Spotify #hobisfavoritespritecan

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cullen-collective · 4 years

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do it. write it. do it

Say. Less.

There’s never anyone actually interesting in these chats.

There’s me, who actually wants to discuss music, the way it feels, the lyrics’ poetic meanings, the way the drums crash like they’re my own heartbeat. And then there’s guys who might want to discuss that, but are probably here for the other occupants of the forum: girls obsessed with band members. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against them, and I fully understand geeking out over Pete Wentz (although I’ve always been more of a Stump girl) or Gerard Way or even Chester Bennington. I just keep having to switch to new forums when it’s clear that no one else wants to talk about the music, but instead have guys who claim to look like Adam Lazarra scam the email addresses and photos off those girls.

Which brings me here, to another new forum chat, scrolling through older posts about who drums harder: Travis Barker or Mike Kinsella, as the chat scrolls by on the right side of the screen. I was mindlessly scrolling, mentally agreeing or disparaging the opinions of other posters, too scared to comment. This site was pretty neat, and the account I’d had to create to post comments and chat had spaces for a list of my favorites, which I’d happily included. It also had a little bio, which I’d filled in with my name and age, as well as one of my favorite lyrics.

I kept one eye on the chat as it went, keeping up with the current discussion of how best to cut your bangs. I typed up a quick note that the best way to cut your bangs was to see a local hairdresser so you didn’t end up with Buffy season three bangs instead of the side-sweep you wanted.

Emo-ward: But is it really, truly in the spirit of punk rock if you don’t cut them yourself?

HellsBells: I think to be a real punk, you’d probably need to like different bands. To be alt, you can visit a salon or resign yourself to botched hair.

Emo-ward: Seems like the majority is going to choose the second option.

HellsBells: Well, sometimes we must suffer for the cause.

Emo-Ward wants to send you a private message. Accept. Decline.

I was stunned. No one ever requested me. My cursor hovered over “Accept”, my finger twitching. My mother, as scattered as she was, had always warned me about being too open online. What if this was like, a forty-five year old man who preyed on kids in chat rooms? What if it was a serial killer? What if it was someone from school trying to humiliate me? What if it was a kid from school who wanted to humiliate me and also did a little serial killing on the side?

Okay, I was being ridiculous. I knew nothing about this person. Hell, I hadn’t even looked at their profile. So I right-clicked the name in the chat and opened another window to his profile. Like mine, the profile had no picture, and instead had a graphic. It was Gerard Way but his hair had been edited to be bright green. I snorted, remembering my own, which was Britney Spears edited with a scene girl haircut that this chick in my Western Civ class had emailed to me as a joke after seeing the Ataris CD in my portable player. The name listed was Edward, the age as 16, and he had a lyric on his profile too.

“Watching from the floor.”

I recognized it, small as it was. It was from “Dear Maria, Count Me In”. I was a little surprised. Great song choice.

It seemed he wasn’t too sketchy.

I went back to the original page, steeled my nerves and hit “Accept.”

Emo-ward: Do you really have time in your veins?

My tongue pressed to the inside of my cheek. If this really was a sixteen-year-old boy, I was in trouble. He had just referenced the lyric in my bio, (from “Understanding In A Car Crash”: “It starts and stops and starts and stops again.”) and made it a joke. I had to one-up him.

HellsBells: Yes. I am also a pen.

Emo-ward: Where are you from, girl with time in her veins who is somehow also a pen?

I smiled at my screen. I couldn’t help it. He was kind of funny.

HellsBells: Forgive me, sir, if I’m not very specific. I’m from the Southwest. You?

Emo-ward: Well, miss, I will follow suit. I’m from the Northwest.

There was something about the way he wrote that made me want to trust him. Maybe it was that we had similar chat styles. Although… My mother had always said I talked like I was sixty. What if he was sixty?! Edward is an old man's name.

HellsBells: You kind of talk like an old guy, you know that, right?

Emo-ward: That’s because I’m 104.

HellsBells: Wow. You use the internet pretty well for a senior citizen.

Emo-ward: They had us take a class. So, what’s your favorite album right now?

I smiled. Funny, and hopefully not an old guy.

HellsBells: Will you stop talking to me if I say Take This to Your Grave?

Emo-ward: Only if you stop talking to me for saying mine is Meteora.

HellsBells: Only if you tell me your favorite song off the album is Numb. That’s where I draw the line.

Emo-ward: While that song isn’t my favorite, it’s pretty good. Anyway, the actual favorite is Somewhere I Belong.

I thought about that for a minute. I liked that song, but I hadn’t listened to it a lot. I’d have to give it another go. I had Meteora around here somewhere. I found the album in my bookshelf, put it in my portable player, and put the headphones on. I skipped to the right track, and let it play while I answered.

HellsBells: Not that you asked, but mine is Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes.

Emo-ward: Aggressive. I like it.

I burst out laughing. Out loud. In my house. On a school night. At eleven.

“Bella?” my mom called from across the hall. “Are you on the computer?”

Shit. “Uh… no?”

I heard Mom start giggling. “Go to bed, kid!”

“Okay!” I grimaced at the screen. No way I was ever going to hear from this guy again. But… I had to try, right? He was funny, and he had great taste in music.

HellsBells: Well, grandpa, if you can get the orderlies at the nursing home to let you use the computer on Friday, I’ll be here. Until then, I’m not an adult and have to deal with things like school nights.

Emo-ward: I’m sorry about that. I never sleep, so my school nights are exactly like regular nights. I’ll be here.

I shook my head at that, holding in a giant smile. You know what, fuck it, I let the smile loose. It wasn’t like he could see me. And I let “Somewhere I Belong” play on repeat until I fell asleep.

#twilight #the twilight saga #edward cullen #bella swan #fic #my writing #thanks so much for the permission #like for part two

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apolloandr · 2 years

Text

An Exhaustive Review of BBC Les Mis (Part 1)

So this review ended up being long. Like ABSURDLY long. So long that I had to split it up into multiple posts. But after 5 years of bad faith superiority I finally got around to watching the 2016 BBC Les Mis miniseries! I have…a lot of thoughts.

This post is going to go through the things I liked about the series, because believe it or not there is actually quite a bit that I liked. Then the next post will go over the things I didn’t like, and the final one will be a sort of “what did I think/what did I learn” thing. Without further ado:

My favorite thing about this whole series was Jean Valjean. I LOVE Dominic West’s performance and I love the way he’s written. Turns out this is an unpopular opinion, because the fandom tends to perceive Valjean as this innocent, bread loving, do-no-wrong grandpa type which is not in keeping with his character in the book at all. Remember, Valjean is a person who tries very hard to be good, not a person to whom goodness comes innately. He has a huge heart, is incredibly charitable, and is always ready to help those who need him. He also steals, lies, acts selfishly, has violent thoughts, and is not above making threats. I really appreciate that this series allowed Valjean to struggle, and be brutal, and do morally dubious things without undercutting any of his goodness. This is the most nuanced portrayal of Valjean I’ve ever seen.

Every scene between Valjean and Bishop Myriel was GOLD. I’m very fond of this firmer, more authoritative Myriel and the way he bounces off of Valjean’s hostility. The final scene with the candlesticks is particularly fantastic.

This is the first iteration of Les Mis I’ve seen in any medium in which representation is integrated consistently. Tokenism is not an issue here; BIPOC people are everywhere at all times. There is definitely an implications issue, but we’ll discuss that later in the second post.

OLIVIA COLMAN AS MADAME THÉNARDIER AND NO ONE TOLD ME?!??!! It’s so nice to see her in her element doing the kind of character work she’s known for in the UK, especially for western viewers who have a very fixed perception of her as a dramatic awards show darling.

Gavroche is a Thénardier! I am a little miffed that his name is Gavroche, because in the book the Thénardiers cared about him so little that they never even gave him a name, but that is very nitpicky.

I didn’t love the sequence of Fantine losing her teeth and hair, but I DID love the man who did it. It was nice when he sat Fantine down and said “you don’t have to do this.” A single moment of kindness before the enaction of violating and commodifying a body. Very Brechtian. Fantine’s relationship with the man at the post office was also a nice touch for the same reasons. We’re lured into a false sense of security where we see him as an ally, but then he turns on her the moment he perceives her as having lost her value. VERY powerful stuff.

Some of the hair and costumes are really well done, key word being SOME but still, credit where credit is due. It’s great to see women in bonnets and men with lace up back vests and high society hard top wigs. My favorite thing: Black hair that looks good!!! Holy hell it is so common for Black hair to look horrendous on film because white people don’t know how to properly care for or style it (filmmakers PLEASE start hiring Black stylists,) but here the hair looks awesome! We have locs, we have afros, we have kinky curls, and everything looks natural. A+.

Every time there’s an allusion made to Valjean’s past it hits hard, especially when Cosette enters the picture. That moment when Cosette says “this place is like a prison” and Valjean responds with “you don’t know what a prison is…” OOF just twist that knife a little harder why don’t you.

I don’t mind this Grantaire. Just because he’s not George Blagden doesn’t mean he’s not good. It’s kind of a nice change to see a Grantaire who’s crass and bumbling and not at ease on the battlefield. Also, there is definitely ExR present in the series, you just have to pay attention. In general I’m pretty neutral on the depiction of all of Les Amis. They don’t have a lot to them, but they’re very minor characters who appear in less than a third of the source material; it makes sense that they would be kind of glossed over. (Remember guys, the actual story of Les Mis does not revolve around Les Amis just because you made it so.)

Marius threatening to light the barricade on fire is awesome, it’s great to see him be a badass for once. Love that for him.

This rebellion is BRUTAL. People are getting stabbed with bayonets left and right, bullets flying everywhere, bodies in the street, people have bits of shrapnel stuck in their face, someone starts swinging on soldiers with an axe. I love it. I love that we get to see how UGLY and THANKLESS this moment was. It heightens the tragedy of the moment and the reality of the history.

The died holding hands scene is GREAT.

Javert’s suicide is quite well done. It was an interesting choice to have him resign from his position and leave behind a list of prison reforms, and I like that we got to see him break down and cry, especially since Javert is usually played in a very closed off, unemotional way.

So those are the things I liked! It’s not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but things I like I REALLY like, to the point that some of them have become my favorite adaptational moments. See y’all in part 2 for the negativity! Hooray!

#if i speak i am condemned #bbc les mis #jean valjean #les miserables #les mis #apolloandr

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dudeandduchess · 4 years

Note

Can I pretty please have Ran telling Kyo that she has a boyfriend at daycare or something like that? So Kyo can freak out his little princess is growing up too fast 😂 thanks bby

Thank you for the request, bby!!! Hope you like it. This might be a little crack-y, since I think that Kyō’s the fun parent who would do all these things. 😂

Also, Yuu belongs to @biznichwrites. I’m only borrowing him for this one, since we always pair him and Ran together in our jam sessions.

***

Kyōjurō (x F!S/O): Ran’s Boyfriend (Fluff, Modern AU, SFW Scenario)

“Papa, can we listen to your songs?” Kyōjurō looked up at his daughter from the rearview mirror, quirking an eyebrow at her before reaching over to lower the volume to the speakers— which was blaring out another one of the nursery rhymes that his wife had added to their ‘For Ran’ playlist.

He had to admit that the nursery rhymes were getting a bit too repetitive— and that it was starting to drive him crazy, since he always found himself humming them during his breaks, and sometimes even during his classes.

So, he figured that letting Ran get her way wouldn’t hurt. After all, it wasn’t the first time that she would be hearing his playlist.

And that was how he found himself quickly changing the playlist when he stopped at the next stop light, pressing shuffle on his phone and almost tossing it in the empty passenger seat— since his wife had to go to take the other car to go to her own workplace.

Kyōjurō was just tasked to take Ran with him since the academy also offered a free daycare service for the teachers’ kids. It was extremely convenient, and it also allowed him to spend so much more time with his little princess.

As soon as the beat dropped for the first song, he heard his daughter’s telltale attempts at beatboxing. She had seen it while they were watching a western movie a month ago, and she had begun trying to go along with his rap songs— merely by popping her lips and clicking her tongue; but it was such an adorable attempt.

“Glasses, papa! Glasses!” The young man chuckled at that, looking in the rearview mirror once more to see Ran stretching her tiny hands out and making grabby gestures at him.

He didn’t even have to ask what she meant, since he knew all too well what she had been asking for. So, without looking away from the road, he reached down to the center console to grab his wife’s sunglasses; before reaching back and handing it to his daughter.

Immediately, Ran grabbed the glasses from her father’s hand, and slid back into her seat with the seatbelts holding her snugly in place. And before the next song could even begin, she already slipped the oversized glasses onto her cute face and had also begun popping her lips to the beat of Saweetie’s ‘My Type’.

Deciding to join in on his daughter’s fun, Kyōjurō grabbed his own pair of sunglasses from the overhead glasses compartment and slipped them on; singing to the song in a softly accented English all the while, with a bright grin on his lips— no less.

It was just a shame that their trip only lasted a couple more minutes since— before Ran knew it— they were already pulling up in the school’s parking lot. She didn’t take her sunglasses off yet, however, and just watched as her father turned the car engine off and went to the back to unbuckle her from her seat.

And, like clockwork, she handed him his bag— which had been next to her— before taking the hand that he’d held out to help her from the car.

“Thank you, papa.” The little girl beamed up at Kyōjurō, making his chest tighten with the intensity of how adorable she was; especially with her mother’s sunglasses still on her face.

He returned the grin with one of his own, closing the car door with one hand and flipping his sunglasses up his head; all so he could see his little girl better. “You’re welcome, Ran-chan. How about a picture that we can send mama?”

“Okay!” If there was anything that Ran loved more than sweets and presents, it was getting pictures taken of her and being told that she was cute. So, asking her to pose for a couple of shots weren’t a hardship at all— with her even posing with adorable peace signs on either side of her.

However, before Kyōjurō could take another multitude of shots of his daughter, the sound of another child calling her name rang in the quiet morning air. Both father and daughter looked around the lot, only to see a little boy with black hair waving at Ran with one hand high up in the air— since his other hand was clasped tightly in his father’s hand.

“Hey, Tomioka. You’re later than usual,” Kyōjurō greeted his co-teacher with a grin, locking his phone and pocketing it; before walking over to Ran and placing a hand on her head.

Giyuu’s lips twitched at that, as he nodded idly. “My wife and I woke up late.”

“Ohhhh, long night, huh,” The blond man wiggled his eyebrows at that, to which Giyuu only rolled his eyes. “This one woke up real late too-” He added, and looked down at Ran, only to see her bolt out from under his hand and wrap her arms around Giyuu’s son’s arm.

“Yuu-kun!” The little Rengoku chimed happily, before dragging the boy out of his father’s grip. “Papa! Papa! This is Yuu-kun.”

Kyōjurō grinned heartily at that, feeling so proud of his daughter for having made a friend in daycare. “That’s great, Ran-chan. Is he your friend?”

“No,” Ran answered brightly; arm still wrapped around Yuu’s. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Instantly, the smile fell from Kyōjurō’s face, as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He even looked up at Giyuu— who only shrugged idly at him; showing that he had known all along about their kids being in a ‘relationship’.

He was a little dumbstruck for a few seconds, trying to make sense of what exactly Ran had said— only to have his brain keep churning out the same error messages. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his four-year-old already had a boyfriend.

“Excuse me? You’re too young to have a boyfriend, young lady,” was all he could say before the first bell rang— signaling that classes were about to start in a few minutes.

“But mama said so, papa! She said I could have Yuu-kun as my boyfriend!”

Kyōjurō wanted nothing more than to call his wife then and there, and ask her why she had allowed their little girl to date already. His head was already hurting just from thinking about it.

“No, no,” The Rengoku patriarch shook his head— mildly in disbelief, and partly in defiance— “No. No boyfriends until you’re forty.”

“How many sleeps is that?” Ran asked, completely confused at the big number.

“A lot,” Kyōjurō muttered, as he held his hand out for his little girl to take. “We’ll talk about this later with mama— and grandpa.”

He just hoped that Shinjurō would be able to give him some advice on how to deal with Ran already liking boys. After all, it was his turn to host their monthly family dinners.

Thankfully, Ran unlatched herself from Yuu without much of a fuss on her side. But it was evident on the little boy’s face that he was upset at Ran leaving him behind.

“Will uncle Sen be at grandpa’s?”

“Only if you say that you’re breaking up with your boyfriend.” Kyōjurō baited with a sigh, then turned to Giyuu and lifted a hand up in goodbye. “I’ll see you later, Tomioka… and Yuu.”

“Bye bye, Yuu-kun!”

“Bye bye, Ran-Ran! I love you!” Yuu answered with a sweet smile, which had Kyōjurō’s expression falling as he scooped Ran up in one arm and crossed the parking lot as best as he could.

Only to silently curse his luck, since he remembered that Ran and Yuu would be in daycare all day. So his efforts had been all for naught.

#rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojurou x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyojurou rengoku x reader #kyoujurou x reader #kyoujuro rengoku #kyojurou x reader #rengoku kyojurou #kny kyoujurou #demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #kny imagines #jen writes

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drivingsideways · 4 years

Text

in search of a better dream

This is about three pieces of South Korean media that crossed my path recently: the dramas Search WWW and Flower of Evil, and the novel Kim Ji Young, Born 1982.

Disclaimer and context : I'm not Korean, I don't speak the language, and I've watched a very limited set of kdramas. The criticisms I make in this piece are not to single out kdramas, or kdrama fandom, as what I've described exists in Western and other Asian media and fandoms as well.

Under the cut for length:

There's a scene in the first episode of the hit 2020 k-drama "Flower of Evil" that made me want to quit watching the show within the first ten minutes. The scene goes like this: our protagonists, Cha Ji Won and Baek Hee Seung meet Baek Hee Seung's parents along with their four year old daughter. The occasion is Baek Hee Seung's birthday, and loving wife Cha Ji Won has set up a special birthday dinner for them. On the way to the restaurant, the daughter has already complained about how she's scared of her grandparents, and they don't like her. When we meet the grandparents, we see the truth of this- they are as cold as the Arctic to all three, but especially to their daughter-in-law and granddaughter. In a bid to smooth out the social awkwardness, Cha Ji Won instructs her daughter to greet her grandparents the way they had "practiced" earlier- a cutesy little greeting where the adorable Eun-ha makes a heart over her head and chirps "I love you grandma and grandpa". When this fails to soften them, Eun-ha retreats, looking scared and disappointed. Not to worry, Cha Ji Won has this completely figured out: if you try harder, she tells her four year old daughter, they'll eventually love you.

Reader, I was, as they say, mad.

We find out soon enough that this stellar bit of parenting follows from an abiding principle in Cha Ji Won's life. Her romance with Baek Hee Seung starts when a handsome oppa walks into the family store, and is a saga of her stalking and pursuing a man who repeatedly tells her he's not interested, until he finally gives in. The power of her persistence pays off when the emotionally distant and abrasive man, in a classic beauty-and-the-beast transition, becomes a loving boyfriend, and then later, husband and father. It's a fantasy- some might even say feminist fantasy come true- he's handsome, supportive, reliable, artistic, the primary housekeeper and caretaker of their daughter while she pursues her demanding "dream" job as a police officer, and they have enough money to live in a charming and lovingly set up two-storeyed house in ruinously expensive Seoul. This is heterosexual female wish fulfilment at its peak, and it is all made possible because she persevered.

It all threatens to come apart with the discovery of the perfect man's dark past- for a brief period, she's forced to contemplate the idea that he's actually a serial killer who's conned her for the entirety of their relationship of fourteen years; that the perfect life was, in fact, a lie.

However, since this is written and billed as romance melodrama, this horror is short-lived. As the story progresses through increasingly improbable, violent and sometimes downright hilarious twists and turns, we grow closer to the (inevitable) happy ending. Baek Hee Seung/ Do Hyun Soo is no killer, just a traumatized child with a horrific past. The lies are the result of psychological damage inflicted by a society that unfairly deemed him a monster; the cage of repressed emotions that he'd locked himself in needed only the unshakeable conviction of Cha Ji Won's love to be broken open. "I wish you could see yourself as I see you" she tells him, in one of the show's endless supply of tearfully emotional moments, "I wish you could understand yourself the way I understand you."

This framework continues right to the end, when a bout of short term amnesia (!!) has Do Hyun Soo questioning himself and her: do you know, he asks her, when I'm lying to you, and when I'm not, because I don't. The show answers that almost immediately- it doesn't matter, because it's her vision of him that he wants to be; in other words, he chooses the version of himself that she wants. The horror of the lie was a red herring, Cha Ji Won was right from the start about her husband- all it took was the power of her love and her perseverance to overcome the lie at the heart of her marriage, to restore it to its previous shape- quite literally. The dream house they built together, which was destroyed by the villain, is shown in the last shots as unchanged from how it was in the beginning. One of the last shots we have of the couple is of them kissing in the artisan husband's workshop, an almost perfect recreation of the first time we see them. Paradise Regained, and all of us- and Cha Ji Won- can breathe a sigh of relief. You, the twenty-first century woman, are the architect of your own fantasy and can have it all. What could be more powerful than that?

In Kim Ji Young, Born 1982 , a novel published in 2016, and often credited with kickstarting a new conversation about feminism in South Korea, the eponymous protagonist's story is also one of perseverance. It's a starkly written tale, an everywoman tale, a dryly narrated fact finding mission report complete with citations and references, about a woman born in the late twentieth century into a rigidly patriarchal culture, whose very existence is an aberration- her parents didn’t opt for a sex-selective abortion unlike many of their contemporaries when they found that their second child would also be a girl. Kim Ji Young, like the rest of us, grows up immersed in a misogynist culture. Even before she understands it, she learns to work around it and through it, rationalizing the micro-aggressions, burying the anger at the casual and institutional sexism that permeates her life, compromising and coping with it all, and achieving some semblance of having it all: a job, a decent, loving husband, a child. However, it's when motherhood arrives that it all falls apart- Kim Ji Young, faced with the exhausting carework of having a baby at home and another regular, full time job, does what so many women in her position do- quits her "outside" job for her parenting one. Fighting exhaustion and depression, a casually cruel and misogynist remark from a stranger in a park proves to be the proverbial final straw; Kim Ji Young suffers a mental breakdown, dissociating herself completely from her own life, and "seamlessly, flawlessly" taking on the personalities of other women she's known- her mother, her friend, her colleague. The novel ends with a narrative twist that's both horrifying and appropriate: we learn that our narrator is actually her male psychiatrist. Kim Ji Young doesn't even get to be the voice of her own story; instead, it is told by a man cocooned in his own privilege, who displays the same paternalistic and misogynist behaviour that he correctly identified as the cause of her breakdown.

There is no escape here for Kim Ji Young save that of a complete break from reality. In the light of the narrative that leads her to that point, it feels both inevitable and even more horrifically, a blessing. This is a horror story told as it is shorn of any hope; the ending is death or insanity.

Reading Kim Ji Young, Born 1982 was to confront the familiar and heart-breaking and horrific neatly distilled into 200 odd pages; it's "fiction", but not really. My only surprise was how similar the culture described there was to my own in specifics; how incidents in Kim Ji Young's life were things I had actually experienced myself or seen other women experience, in a country several thousand miles away.

I read this novel just after watching the 2019's Search WWW, a show with a bit of a cult following, I think. Before I started watching it, one friend assured me that I would love it, that it was made for me; another said that she dropped it because it "rang false" to her at the time. I've seen the show described several times as a feminist power fantasy, sometimes, if the reviewer wanted to demean it, with the qualifier, unrealistic.

This seemed an odd sort of criticism to me- after all, who turns to k-drama romances or really, any romance, for realism? Female wish fulfilment, which is the cornerstone of romance as a genre, whether in books or film, is still written and recognized as fantasy. So what was particularly unreal about Search WWW?

Well, simply put, it is written like the patriarchy doesn't matter, and has never existed.

The three female protagonists are all in their thirties, in powerful positions in their careers. As such, they are constantly walking into meetings where women speak more than 33% of the time. There are men in the room, but they never outnumber the women, and they don't silence the women.

The interests and decisions and choices of women in the show- even the lead antagonist, who is an older woman whom we often see casually making beefy young men pose nude for her paintings- matter, not just to domestic and private realms, but to society at large; the antagonist is a power broker whose reach goes right up to the highest echelons of the country's politics; the younger women's ethical choices directly affect the republic's functioning as a democracy.

What about the men? It's not that they've been ignored; it's just that their place in the narrative has been decentered. Do with that what you will, the writer seems to say, as she writes in speaking roles for women wherever possible—every second side character is a woman— I have no time or inclination to justify that choice.

As for romance- it's not just that two of the three romances fall into the "noona romance" category, which is subversive in itself. It's that the power of decision making in these relationships clearly rests with the women.

In the "main" romance track, in a reversal of the usual trope, the woman is the one who is emotionally unavailable, and whom the man has to convince to take a chance on their relationship. What was hugely refreshing was that the reason for her emotional unavailability isn't trauma, that the man has to help her heal from, unlike the gender reversed versions we often see, eg in Flower of Evil. Instead, it's a difference in perspective that has its roots in the years of experience she has compared to him; it's the difference in life perspective of a twenty something man, and an almost-40 woman. She considers the implications and possibilities of entering into a relationship with a man who wants marriage and kids, while she doesn't want either and is unlikely to want them in the future. She thinks through it, and sees the pitfalls of it, perhaps all too clearly. In the end, when she makes a decision to commit, it's with the understanding that she's choosing to live in the moment, that he makes her happy; that they make each other happy and it is worth something, even if it doesn't last. But both of them understand that her happiness is not centered in him or their relationship being successful. The other two romances end on a similarly open note- the possibility of love with the man you just divorced, but there's no hurry to get there; and a long distance relationship that may or may not last the two years of military conscription the man has to undergo.

The happily ever after in this series is not the perfect heterosexual family unit; it was always going to be the complicated, thorny and intense queerplatonic relationship between the three women, who, in the end, literally drive off along an endless open road under a blue, blue sky, to "a place with no red lights", as one of them describes it.

For a week after watching Search WWW, I wandered around in a daze. How did this show get written, I kept asking myself? How did it get produced? Aired??? What magic was worked to put it in my eyeballs, and how can it keep happening?

That feeling intensified when I read Kim Ji Young, Born 1982. But the book also provided the answer, at least to the first question. Because it is Kim Ji Young's voice in Search WWW. This is the fantasy that Kim Ji Young would have wanted to live in; a society and a life where she's seen as a person, entire, and it's not something she has to fight every day for. The gigantic leap of imagination that the writer of Search WWW took was only because that fantasy has been yearned for, in a way only a person growing up in Kim Ji Young's world- our world- could.

"Flower of Evil"- and other dramas like it— are also, undeniably, products of this world. It's unsurprising to me that in many ways, Cha Ji Won's little fantasy domestic world in Flower of Evil, on the surface, looks exactly like a post-feminist world. If the real revolution is men doing housework and childcare, then that fantasy has already been achieved on the individual level for Cha Ji Won. Sure, she's the only female member on her squad, and maybe the entire police force, for all you see women in her workplace. Sure, the other female characters with speaking roles exist mostly to be tortured for manpain by the narrative or literally by men as part of the plot. She seems to have no friends outside of work, which means that all her friends are men. As for relationships with other women, except her mother, who exists mostly to share the burden of childcare, and her mom-in- law who turns out to be an evil sort herself, there are none. When she meets her sister-in-law, the entire scene gives off a strange catfight vibe- her sister in law is the only other woman who can legitimately be said to have a claim on knowing the real Do Hyun Soo, and Cha Ji Won's reaction is to deny that claim and tell her to buzz off, basically. "I'm his family now" she tells her sister in law, "He has a wife"; firmly establishing the primacy of a heterosexual romantic relationship over all others.

Her "dream" job means nothing much despite the work she has put in to get it; for most part of the narrative she ends up betraying every professional ethic and her squad- her only friends. Of course, she is easily forgiven for it, without doing any of the work to earn that forgiveness, but that's really because who has the narrative time to develop those relationships which do not matter, like her work, which is shown up for the narrative prop it is, just like her daughter? Even her sociopath (but not really, poor baby) husband ends the series with a tentative sort of friendship with a person he's not married to, but not Cha Ji Won, whose entire world by the end of the series has narrowed down to the four walls of her perfect little house and her perfectly-rescued husband. "I can't be happy if he's not happy," she tells her mother, who suggests that maybe it's time she let go of her not-so-perfect husband. "So please accept him."

In the end, the fantasy is based on this : self-improvement as the winning strategy, not structural change. Try hard enough and you'll get what you want. In the fine print, easily ignored: as long as what you want falls within the bounds of heteronormative patriarchal standards. It's an attitude that is passed down to the next generation; Cha Ji Won's early conversation with her daughter is an example.

The writer's vision is clear- what could have been an interesting and intimate look at our deepest fears in a relationship- that the other person will see us for who we are and horror-struck, leave; or even a deconstruction of the heterosexual woman's fantasy of The Perfect Man, is instead a tired repetition of the Beauty-and-the-Beast trope. You can dress it up and put a gun-toting, career woman wig on it, but that disguise falls apart pretty quickly. Cha Ji Won openly states not once, but several times, that she would rather live the comfortable lie; it's only when even that isn't an option- and not because of her choice or agency, but circumstances and the man coming to a decision, that she begins to let go. But only for a little while- barely ten minutes in show time- because ultimately, this is a female wish fulfilment fantasy, isn't it? Her longsuffering perseverance is rewarded when he decides to mould himself to her fantasy version of him, and the past is erased, and time reset, complete with soft lighting and soaring soundtrack.

Some love stories are horror stories, but others are horror stories masquerading as love stories. Why are we so often sold the latter, and so accepting of the narrative gaslighting? When I look at the popularity of Search WWW vs Flower of Evil, I feel bitter despair and quite a lot of anger. Why do so many women- and it is women, who are producing this work, for women, primarily (I mean, romance, as a genre)- settle for so little? It's the twenty first century, I think, why are we still here, I rage, gnashing my teeth, and indulging in the vicious satisfaction of giving Flower of Evil a single star rating that will make not a dent in its popularity. If we can't demand and aspire to a better class of fantasy, what hope do we have? As you dream, so you will do.

I often think that these days feminism is made toothless because we're shaping it into something that will validate every little feeling of ours; we don't want to be made uncomfortable by it. But feminism is not meant to make anyone comfortable; interrogating your own desires and pleasures is as much a part of smashing the patriarchy as fighting for fundamental human rights like bodily autonomy.

I guess, in the end, what I want to say is this: for the love of sanity, dream better.

#flower of evil #search: www #kim ji young born 1982 #unpopular opinions cw

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crashdevlin · 4 years

Text

Centerfold 1- Another New School

Centerfold Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written for Meghan who requested some fluffy A/B/O smut and then I came up with an idea and ran with it. Smut will start after the plot is established. Also, this is gonna go toward my @spnabobingo squares. This chapter fills my Rose/Gardenia/Amber square and is rated G for General Audiences.

Summary: Dean is a Junior at yet another brand new high school. He meets a sweet young woman in his homeroom and starts a relationship with her.

Pairing: Dean x Y/n

Word count: 1211

Story Warnings: none really, mentions of A/B/O dynamics, overprotective parents

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean didn’t like that there were so many miles between the middle school and the high school John registered his sons at in Olympia, Washington. John had the Impala, so Dean had to walk with Sam two miles to his school and then walk four miles to his own. “Gonna have to hit a bar and hustle some cab money. Can’t be doin’ this walk twice a day, Sammy. It’s already killin’ me,” Dean complained.

“At least it’s not winter,” Sam said, sarcastically. “Anyway, Dad will be back soon, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s a witch hunt, practically a milk run for Dad, but still. I wish he’d left the car or something.”

“It’ll be okay, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he patted his brother’s shoulder and walked away, disappearing into Jefferson Middle School. He hated this walk and it was the first time he’d even done it. He made it to Olympia High just as the bell rang. Definitely needed some money for cabs. Maybe he could call Bobby, get some cash Western Unioned to him. He definitely wasn’t going to get any more money out of his dad. John always gave him just enough for him and Sam to eat for a couple weeks.

He pulled a paper schedule out of his pocket and sighed. “Homeroom. Mr. Philips. Room C-215. That’s D-100 and that’s D-200, so C Hall will be…” he said to himself, walking toward his classroom. He found C-215 and stepped inside. “Mr. Philips? Dean Winchester. I’m new.” He handed the schedule over to the tall man behind the desk and smiled tightly.

“Right. Take a seat behind Miss Y/l/n in the pink,” Philips said, dismissively, handing the schedule back. Dean nodded and scanned the room for ‘the pink’.

His eyebrows jumped in surprise when his eyes fell on the girl in the second row with the blush pink fuzzy sweater on. She was gorgeous, looked sweet and innocent, smiled at him as he walked down the aisle to slide into the desk behind her. He leaned forward close to her. Whatever perfume she had on smelled amazing. Roses, gardenia maybe...amber? “Miss Y/l/n, huh?” he whispered.

She looked away bashfully and bit her thumbnail. “Shush. Mr. Philips is really mean. Don’t get sent to detention on your first day.”

“You keep talking, we’ll both be there...and that’d be worth it.” She stifled a giggle and looked at her desktop. “Come on, sweetheart. What’s yer name? ‘Less you want me to keep callin’ you, Miss Y/l/n.”

She bit her bottom lip and looked back over her shoulder. “Y/n,” she said.

“Quiet!” Mr. Philips called out from the front of the classroom. “We observe quiet in my classroom, Mr. Winchester.”

“Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t here for the syllabus,” he joked. Y/n giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. Dean thought she was just...adorable. It wasn’t often that he fell into a crush right off the bat, barely knowing her name, but Y/n was just...sweet as sugar...and Dean loved his candy.

“So, I’m new, you wanna show me around?” Dean asked as he followed her down the aisle after homeroom let out. It was every bit of the line it felt like leaving his mouth and part of him doubted she’d fall for it. She seemed like too good a girl to fall for his lines. “I’m sure a smart girl like you knows her way around school...around the neighborhood?”

She turned to him in the hallway just outside the door and smiled brightly. “Dean, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’re you from?” she asked.

“Kansas,” he responded, warily. He didn’t understand why she was asking.

“Parents’ names?”

“It’s just my dad,” Dean answered, his jaw tightening.

“I’m sorry,” she said, softly. “But what’s your dad’s name?”

“John.”

“What’s he do for a living?”

“Sells vacuums. Why are you asking all this?” he asked, eyebrows tucked together.

“My parents don’t like me talking to strangers and now you’re not a stranger,” she said with a smile. “If you can find your way to the parking lot after school, I’ll show you around town a bit...and I’ll help you study.”

He got a whiff of her floral scent as she twirled and practically danced away from him and down the hallway. She was something special.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, sixteen or seventeen, Dean?” Y/n asked, as she walked across the parking lot with her backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Sixteen...for another three months. You?”

“Seventeen, two months ago,” she responded.

“Are your parents really gonna ask about all that junk you been asking me?”

“Some of it, yeah, but the most important question is ‘what’s your presentation?’” she asked, turning to him and walking backward.

Dean licked his lips and shrugged. “Don’t have one yet. Dad’s alpha, so was our grandpa. Pretty much destined. What about you?”

“Haven’t presented either, but there hasn’t been a female in my family that wasn’t omega in a hundred and fifty years. How’s that for ‘destined’?”

“If I were alpha, your parents wouldn’t let me around you, huh?”

She chuckled. “That’s a hard and fast rule. Even though I’m not an omega yet, I’m not allowed near alphas.”

“Well, thankfully, I’m not alpha yet.”

She smiled and turned back around. “Yeah. Thankfully.” She reached a small red convertible Mercedes and pulled out a set of keys. Dean’s eyes went wide as she popped the trunk and set her backpack in the trunk. “What?” she asked when she noticed the look of shock on his face.

“You...this is your car?”

“Yep! It’s a hand-me-down. It was my mom’s first. Dad bought it for her when she got pregnant with my brothers. A station wagon or a van would’ve been a better choice, of course, but she made it work.”

Dean walked around it. “1980 Mercedes-Benz 280SL. Wow...Euro import with the flush headlights and bumpers. It’s beautiful. You can drive a stick shift?”

“Of course.” She shut the trunk and walked over to the driver’s door. “Get in, Dean. Unless you have a problem with riding shotgun.”

“In a car like this with a girl like you? No problem on my end, sweetheart.” He smiled as he pulled open the door and settled into her passenger seat.

She smiled as she turned the key in the ignition. “Only man I’ve ever had in this car was my dad...he wouldn’t let me drive my own car because the idea of a woman behind the wheel was just too much for him.”

“Sounds like a jerk. No offense.”

She chuckled. “Well, he’s just an alpha, ya know. That’s how they are.”

“Well, I’m not an alpha yet, Y/n, and I think you belong behind the wheel.”

She bit her bottom lip and maneuvered the transmission into first, easing off the clutch and rolling out of the parking space. As he watched her drive, he suddenly wished his father would never come back so Dean would never have to leave. He shook his head when he realized he’d essentially just wished for his father’s death over a pretty girl. He’d never had a girl grab his heart and soul so quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips

Hunter Tags - @atc74 @sandlee44 @spnbaby-67 @kalesrebellion @tumbler-tidbits @hoboal87 @stoneyggirl @kbl1313 @cookiechipdough @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld

Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm @deanmonandnegansbitch @jadesupernatural @stoneyggirl @4fareader @squirrelnotsam @lyarr24 @akshi8278

#cassie writes stuff #a/b/o dynamics #high school #teenchesters #dean x reader #spn fanfic #spnabobingo

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varezhka · 2 years

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so! as i’ve said we are done for as a country 🇷🇺 shit was fun while it lasted but ye old man got tired of pretending that he cares about us and basically made us a middle stage totalitarian regime in a matter of days! god he is so talented at making people just do things i wonder why couldn’t he do all of that when his oligarch friends were showing people how to steal properly. actually i don’t wonder about anything at this point the only way to survive this is to assume that everyone supporting him is a psychopath and i’m not exaggerating mothers are disowning their kids for being against him, i’m scared to read news on the metro train because all of my sources are in opposition and i can’t afford (obviously) a new phone right now if some angry old man supporter decides to break it.

im done analysing i know it makes me a bad scientist i don’t care im tired. here are my unhinged from social science takes:

1. self-care people are ruining the resistance. fucking media pyramid scheme feel good motherfuckers destroying people sense of belonging to a group thus making them distance from anything affecting it. fucking early stage capitalism individualism. “we have to think positively” - no you don’t. at this point, because i know that in your little cult of only caring about yourself you have not been doing it for the last ten years, you HAVE to expose yourself to every thing that makes you upset. you won’t understand the stakes and the gravity of what is going on here if you try to distance yourself. people mere 500-1000km from you can’t distance themselves from the artillery strikes being aimed at them so try some empathy for once in your stupid life.

2. killing people is ultimately bad except when it comes to whoever makes me personally angry. there are like only five people in my mind so don’t worry.

3. yes slavic people are gonna suffer because of it but you know we are literally done. we are the germans of 21 century except we are also dirty slavs and caucasian and asian people. for years i’ve been saying that nobody actually has an opinion on russian people except for a reactionary one, but oh my god. imagine looking at the biggest country in the world and thinking that people are one and the same there. i’m sorry for geographical determinism as i’ve said these are not profesional opinions.

4. america is the worst country in the world simply for the reason of how easy it is to antagonise it. turns out hypocrisy is not a great image builder.

5. if i were our old man’s image maker i would ban anyone from filming that long ass table. only faces on display.

6. our protests are useless until famous people are at the front of them (they are a bunch of pussies though) and our police and military start changing sides. at this point we are just toothless screaming babies and the only reason to protest still is to not let western people forget that there are real human beings still living here.

7. i hate every single person who studies north korea as a fucking little lab rat cage.

8. the excuse of propaganda affecting people around you will last only for so long. it means that you knew that people have been affected by it for the last 10 years and you haven’t talked to them about it? my grandpa exclusively watches tv but my mother and i TALK to him about the news he watched and literally just by being nice to him we still can explain how the tv is wrong about so many things. stop giving the excuse of “people are dumb and it doesn’t matter” if you haven’t even tried (also don’t be dumb obviously not everyone is in the place where they can oppose to someone’s opinion but it just means that i’m not talking to you).

9. i forgot another bad take. i think that we shouldn’t teach regular russians about vpn and let them suffer. maybe social media withdrawals will make them angrier actually

#russia #ж

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thelioncourts · 3 years

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general life update for anyone willing to read through this next rambling stream of consciousness:

for anyone that didn’t know: back in august, my 91yo great grandfather and my 73yo grandmother (my dad’s grandpa and my dad’s mom) moved into the house, moving my sister and i to the basement where there is no light, where the sump pump is, where the furnace is, etc. we shared the basement from august to december, all while i was student teaching every single day and attending my 3 hour seminar on mondays. grandma died in late november, after an honest-to-god fiasco that, call me mean for saying this, we, as a family shouldn’t have had to have dealt with. (my great grandpa and my grandmother both have lots of money - they simply didn’t want to spend it and they were going to die living alone).

my grandmother had been staying in my sister’s room so after a month or so my sister moved back to her room, leaving me in the basement.

january hit and, like a switch flipped, my sister has been neglecting most, if not all, covid guidelines and she and i haven’t talked since around that time.

it took until february for my teaching license (early february) and then the job hunt slowly began.

attended a job fair in early march, have been interviewing over zoom, have a job offer, it’s not a good offer, am still searching, and the list continues, all while still living in a basement with no light.

being secluded down there has been hell, fell into the worst depression i’ve been in since i was 18 or so, and i finally had enough and am sleeping and staying on the sunporch, the only free room in the house. however, sleeping on a couch is getting old and there’s no heat out here so nights are pretty chilly.

on top of all that, there’s the usual family stuff, all made worse by the fact that we’re all home all the time. i’m job searching and interviewing, mom quit her job to take care of my great grandpa (and grandma), my great grandpa spends his days watching westerns, nascar, and judge judy on repeat, and the dining room has been my dad’s office since april of last year.

my great grandpa is racist, misogynistic, homophobic, etc. and no matter how many times people tell him to stop saying things he won’t because he thinks women are lesser than, people of color are lesser than, and i wish he would literally die already.

all of my teaching applications are, like, 27 pages long and i have to do new ones for almost every individual school and, at the very least, every district.

i’m very close to the time period when people start getting interview and, by the end of april, beginning of may, i should - cross fingers - be hired somewhere. i will be moving out asap, so sometime in may, maybe early june at the latest, but i can’t even start on that until i know where i’m going.

then comes the stress of moving and getting ready for august.

i’ve been pulling my hair out since october, off and on, and i’m trying some new gummies to hopefully help with that but like.....

i hurt my other knee (my right knee has been shit since i was 14; acl/mcl/3 meniscus tears) and i have a thing called ‘pes arsenine bursitis’ which isn’t really treatable at all. it’s feeling more stable and whatnot, luckily, but still.

my sweet darling great pyrenees is sick and she’s supposed to have an appointment this coming monday to do a needle biopsy to find out what’s wrong, but monday isn’t soon enough and we’ve all just been bawling over her. it’s so clear she doesn’t feel good and it’s such a sudden onset thing and i’m terrified of losing her.

idk. i want to just be in my new apartment, i want to know what grade level to prep for, i want to have peace and quiet and a bed again. i know this is rambly and whatnot but this is why i’ve been quiet, and this is why writing has been so nonexistent. i want to write so badly.

#don't mind me

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tiramisiyu · 3 years

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【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: 【倾落心扉】 Xia Yan | Falling into the Heart Date Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist

Video

Another date from early on in the timeline (seems like it happens right after MC and Xia Yan’s reunion in Chapter 1).

All Xia Yan dates have now been translated!

PART 1

Home

Recently, it’s been raining nonstop for the past few days. It finally cleared up when weekend arrived.

I pulled open the curtains. Just when I was pondering about where to go walk around, my phone on the table vibrated. It was Xia Yan.

Xia Yan: MC, do you have time today?

MC: Mhmm, what’s up? Got something that you need my help for?

Xia Yan: You can count it as help. I just received a very interesting multinational commission and wanted to find you to go together.

MC: Multinational…?

Xia Yan: Yeah, the client settled outside the country a long time ago and requested that I get something from his old house. It’s rare for the weather to be this good, so how about it – are you coming?

MC: (Looks like you calling me out to help is just an act, and you actually just want to relieve boredom…)

MC: Okay, where are we meeting?

Xia Yan: Heh heh, I’m just downstairs at your place. Hurry!

MC: Downstairs?!

As soon as I got downstairs, I saw a taxi stopped at the roadside. Xia Yan stuck out his head from the taxi window, smiling as he waved at me. Seeing him look full of vivacity, I also couldn’t resist waving at him and rushing over.

Taxi

As soon as I got on the car, I heard Xia Yan urge the taxi driver to immediately set out.

MC: You’re in this much of a rush? Where are we going?

Xia Yan: We’re going to a suburban villa area. The thing we need to get is placed in an old house there.

MC: For a matter as simple as “helping get and deliver”, does it really need one to specifically seek a detective?

Xia Yan: I often receive commissions about extraction of material evidence. It’s just that this time is somewhat special. My client is old and needs to take care of her severely ill husband and can’t personally return right now. She only found me after inquiring in many places.

MC: She specifically sought you?

Xia Yan: Naturally. I’m different from other detectives!

Different? Speaking of the largest difference between him and other detectives…

MC: I remember that you opened an antiques shop… could it be that the client wants you to find something old?

Xia Yan: That’s right! The old thing we’re looking for is a vintage magnetic tape.

Vintage tapes sounded right off the bat like an item with an extreme feeling of age. Update speeds to current recording equipment were becoming faster and faster, and magnetic tapes already had been submerged in the currents of history – they were rarely mentioned.

MC: (She specifically sought out a detective to get a magnetic tape… could there be something very important in it?)

Xia Yan: Are you curious about what important things are in the tape?

Was it because he saw me not speak for too long? Xia Yan suddenly said what I was thinking.

MC: Mm… ah! If the client requires you to keep it secret, then don’t say it…

Xia Yan: You’re my assistant, so of course you can ask. Plus, I trust you.

Xia Yan: Although the taxi can only stop near the villa area. We still have to walk for a while to get to our target destination, so let’s save our energy. I’ll tell you about it slowly when we get to our destination.

MC: Mm!

Outside Suburban Villas

MC: We finally made it!

The route to the villa area was complicated, just like a maze. Our trip was full of circles and turns, and we finally arrived at our destination.

Xia Yan: I originally just wanted to take you out for a breath of fresh air and to get some exercise on the side. Didn’t think that your stamina would be so good. If I take you mountain-climbing, you probably would be fine, right?

MC: That’s for sure! Got a new level of respect for me this time?

Xia Yan: During this period of time, have the times that I’ve gotten a new level of respect for you been few, great-law-yer?

MC: Your praise is too much, alright? Great-detec-tive!

MC: The client probably gave you keys, right? You should hurry and open the door.

Xia Yan took a key out from his jacket and carefully opened the main door. When he pushed the door, the particular scent of wooden furniture blew in our faces.

Old Western House

Time had eroded at the old house’s surface bricks and tiles, but they had never truly been stepped on. Refined and stylish wooden furniture, indigo porcelain flower vases, and crystal chandeliers that were dark, but sparkled under the sunlight… In the silence of time, it told of a secret that was only theirs.

MC: Whoa… I feel like the two people who lived here originally have got a pretty good taste in life.

Xia Yan: Based on the materials they provided, this house’s owner was an intellectual with an affluent family background.

MC: Is that so - no wonder I see so many books and scrolls.

MC: Oh right, you haven’t told me about the magnetic tape.

Xia Yan: … Actually, the client isn’t clear on exactly what is in the tape.

PART 2

Xia Yan: … Actually, the client isn’t clear on exactly what is in the tape.

MC: Eh? Then she’s searching for this…

Xia Yan: To help her severely-ill husband recover his memories.

MC: Recover his memories?

Xia Yan: Mm, this is also one of the most important reasons why I took this commission.

Xia Yan: The client is an old grandma of over 60 years old. The grandma’s husband got into an accident over ten years ago, and after surgery, got retrograde amnesia. Typical patients won’t be able to recall certain segments of memories from before the accident, but the grandpa’s situation is extremely severe. He’s basically completely forgotten all past matters…

MC: Then the grandma must be very sad…

Xia Yan: Though she’s sad, the grandma has never given up. She’s kept searching for a way to recover the grandpa’s memories. This year, the grandpa suddenly kept repeating about the tape. The grandma was seriously happy and looked all over the house, but didn’t find the tape that the grandpa was talking about.

MC: So the grandma thought, could the thing be left in the old house from before leaving the country?

Xia Yan: Bingo!

Smiling, Xia Yan winked at me.

MC: Something that can help him remember things must be very important to him.

I originally thought that this was a simple trip to search for something. I never would’ve thought that this kind of story was behind it… I silently made up my mind that I wouldn’t give up before upturning the house upside down!

MC: Then let’s start searching now!

I rolled up my sleeves, preparing to start my so-called “carpet-style” search, when Xia Yan tugged at my arm.

Xia Yan: You aren’t planning to start searching like this, right?

MC: Like this…? Like what? Is something wrong?

Xia Yan: Wait a bit.

Xia Yan pulled out two pairs of gloves from his pocket.

Xia Yan: There’s a layer of dust all over the place here. I brought gloves – stick out your hands, I’ll put them on for you. After all, it’s better to be a little careful when rummaging through things everywhere.

I stuck out my hands, and Xia Yan put the gloves on me.

MC: Thank you… I was just rushing to search and didn’t pay attention to that…

Xia Yan: No big deal. When you’re searching in a moment, remember to watch out for if there’s a safe anywhere.

MC: Aren’t we looking for the tape? Why are we also looking for the safe?

Xia Yan: Apparently, before the grandpa moved, he specifically bought a safe, saying that he wanted to put something in it. The grandma didn’t pay much attention to it back then, as she thought that it was for stuff like real estate documents. Later, when she was looking for things, she noticed that these documents were all nearby. Only then did she feel that something was off. So she suggested to us that, if we can’t find the tape anywhere, it might be in that safe.

MC: I understand. But if we really find the safe, did she tell you the passcode—

Hearing me ask about the passcode, Xia Yan heaved a heavy sigh.

MC: …I forgot that he forgot.

Why does that sound a bit like a tongue-twister…

Xia Yan: The grandma also did her best to ask, but unfortunately, she got nothing. But she did provide us with a clue. She said that in the past, the grandpa loved making sudoku puzzles to work on with her. Maybe this time, it also…

Making sudoku puzzles for the grandma? I remembered that in the past, Xia Yan loved to have me solve his math competition questions, waiting for me to beg him after I couldn’t solve them…

MC: The grandpa must have been a science student…

Xia Yan: Wrong, the grandpa comes from humanities studies. The grandma’s the one in science.

MC: Eh? So he was just flexing his slight skill to an expert when he made those puzzles for the grandma…

Xia Yan: About this…

Xia Yan showed a meaningful smile, deliberately dragging out the last word.

MC: If you’ve got something to say, then say it. Don’t keep me in suspense!

Xia Yan: I was just about to say it!

Xia Yan: When the grandma was recalling it, she remembered when the grandpa confessed to her at the beginning, he sent her a confession sudoku.

MC: … The grandpa really was serious.

Xia Yan: Yeah. It’s just a pity that it’s been too long and the grandma can’t find that sudoku anymore.

Xia Yan: Although this is only our guess. If they really didn’t leave any way to crack the code, I can only…

Only do what…? Could he have brought a tool that can crack open safes?

Xia Yan: Find a lock-opening company after reporting it to my client…

MC: I thought that you were going to take out another high-tech tool.

Xia Yan: Even if I did have one, we still have to go through authorized processes.

MC: I’m joking – could you actually have that kind of tool?

Xia Yan: Of course!

Xia Yan: Alright. The house is so big, so let’s divide and conquer – you take the left and I’ll take the right to save time.

MC: Okay.

Xia Yan I split up, using the bookshelf in the middle of the house as the boundary. The junk room, kitchen, cloakroom. I searched each room one by one, and all were completely empty. No point bringing up the tape and the safe… I didn’t even have the chance to rummage through the cabinets a few more times…

MC: They were way too thorough when moving houses… aside from books, there are only books. Was it because they were too heavy and couldn’t be moved over? There’s only this bookroom left… finally, I can see some other –

Just when I walked in, I saw a magnetic tape player placed on the book table.

MC: Could it be in the tape player?!

PART 3

MC: Could it be in the tape player?!

I expectantly opened the case slot of the tape player on the table. It was still as empty as everything before. After closing the tape player, I turned around, seeing Xia Yan walk into the book room. The gloves he’d originally been wearing had already been taken off.

MC: You’re also done searching? How’s the situation?

Xia Yan: I haven’t gotten anything for now on that side. What about you?

MC: Same here… it’s empty everywhere.

MC: But there are a lot of things in the book room, and there’s also an empty magnetic tape player on the table.

Xia Yan: The grandpa probably listened to the tape often in the book room, so he placed it here. If so, the tape won’t be placed somewhere very far from the tape player. It must be inside the book room.

MC: If the grandpa really did put the tape in the safe, then the safe should also been in the book room.

Xia Yan: That’s right! Let’s search together!

We rummaged through every corner of the bookroom, but we still didn’t find any traces of the tape or the safe.

MC: Ugh, there’s only this bookshelf left…

A large, tall bookshelf was placed on the left side of the book room. There were cabinets that could be pulled open at the bottom, and there were rows of shelves stuffed with books at the top.

MC: There are a lot of things on here…

Xia Yan: This bookshelf is too high, so I’ll search it. You haven’t rested yet, so do you want to sit for a moment?

MC: I’m fine. The great detective hasn’t rested, so how could the assistant that I am also take a rest? You search the top and I’ll search the bottom – we’ll still divide the work!

Xia Yan: As you wish, master assistant!

Even Xia Yan couldn’t completely reach the topmost level of this bookshelf. I was just about to suggest bringing in a chair to boost him up when I saw him carrying in a step stool inside. After setting up the step stool, Xia Yan mibly stepped on. I hurriedly reached out to support the edge of the step stool for him to maintain its balance.

Xia Yan: Don’t worry. I just tried it – this step stool is very secure.

MC: That’s good, but it looks like it’s swaying a little to me – be careful.

I crouched down and opened the bookshelf’s lowermost cabinet. It was piled full with all sorts of book collections inside, and I didn’t notice anything aside from that. I closed the cabinet, stood up, and tilted my head up to look towards the upper shelves. All sorts of books were placed on the shelves; with one glance, I saw—

MC: Sudoku practice question collection?

Remembering the guess that the grandma had said before, I took out that practice question collection. After casually flipping through a few pages, I saw that all the problems had been completed.

MC: (It seems like… there isn’t anything special… in here…)

I held up the practice question collection, wanting to hand it to Xia Yan. I didn’t realize that a little paper slip would fall out from between the pages.

MC: !!!

There was a sudoku problem on the paper. On the problem, there were 16 empty circles, forming a heart shape. There were also pen marks at the top of the problem!

MC: “The world decodes the language of flowers. Only you decode my heart.”

MC: (2… 1… 4… no matter how you look at it, these three numbers in the middle are like that of a confession…)

[Flashback]

Xia Yan: When the grandma was recalling it, she remembered when the grandpa confessed to her at the beginning, he sent her a confession sudoku.

MC: … The grandpa really was serious.

Xia Yan: Yeah. It’s just a pity that it’s been too long, and the grandma can’t find that sudoku anymore.

[Flashback end]

MC: Could it be…

I rushed to pick up that sheet of paper and called Xia Yan’s name.

MC: Xia Yan! I’ve noticed something major!!!

Xia Yan: What did you notice?

Hearing my shouts, Xia Yan rushed to jump down from the step stool.

MC: Guess!

I hid the paper behind my body, wanting to tease him.

Xia Yan: Did you find the sudoku problem that’s suspected to be the passcode?

MC: I guess so… although how did you know that it was a sudoku?

Xia Yan: I noticed a safe behind the pile of books on the uppermost shelf of the bookshelf. Not to mention, you’re holding a sudoku practice question collection – I just needed to link them up to guess it.

MC: I just thought that I noticed that confession sudoku that the grandma couldn’t find. So there really was a safe.

MC: Look.

I handed the sheet I was holding over to Xia Yan.

Xia Yan: !!!

MC: What’s the matter? You seem really surprised…?

Xia Yan: I-it’s nothing… I just happened to have seen this problem before…

How could Xia Yan have seen this problem before… could he have specifically investigated after hearing about the grandma’s memories?

MC: What a coincidence! Do you still remember the answer?

Xia Yan: I remember, I remember! Even if I never saw this before, I could still solve it!

Xia Yan: The way to solve this problem is very easy. Under sudoku’s general rules, the 16 empty circles must be filled with even numbers. Fill in the odd numbers of each 3 x 3 area first, and the answer in the circles will naturally be solved. Wanna try?

PART 4

Xia Yan: Wanna try?

MC: Me? Sure!

I sat beside the table, and Xia Yan handed me a pen.

MC: In the upper left corner, aside from the two circles, the remaining three squares should be filled in with 1, 3, and 9 individually… The first column already has 1 and 9, so the upper left corner should be filled with 3… If the middle square is filled with 9, then the rightmost square in the second row should be filled with one, but that column already has a 1…

MC: So it should be filled with 1, and the remaining square should be filled with 9!

Xia Yan: That’s right. Even though we only filled in three numbers, we can use this to derive the numbers in the other squares.

Xia Yan: Come on, let’s keep going with the next!

Under Xia Yan’s patient guidance, I finally finished solving this sudoku.

MC: 16 circles – a typical person wouldn’t set up such a long passcode…

Xia Yan: Ah… I forgot to tell you that the safe that I noticed only has a three-digit password.

MC: This problem just happens to have three empty circles. But three numbers can be ordered in six ways.

MC: A typical safe only allows you to enter the wrong code three times, and we don’t have other clues…

Xia Yan: Looks like we can only hope to get lucky.

MC: Then do you want to try?

Xia Yan stepped on the step stool again.

Xia Yan: 2, 4, 6…

Beep beep—

The passcode lock was opened.

Xia Yan: We got it this easily – it opened on our first try!

MC: See if the tape is in the box!

Xia Yan: Let me see…

Both of Xia Yan’s hands felt inside. I noticed that the newspaper beside his hand seemed to be about to slip off…

MC: Xia Yan, be careful about the newspaper beside your hand.

Xia Yan: I know. There’s something in the box, so I’ll get it out first.

MC: Okay…

I tilted my head up, looking at Xia Yan. He turned around, handing the thing he had found to me, with his left hand stably holding onto those old newspapers that were about to fall. The dust covering the top was stirred by his movements, floating slowly in the air, drawing out subtle marks. An orangey light shone on his body, covering him in a sweet, honey-like colour.

>Select: Leg

MC: Sit down a bit – I feel like your sitting position right now is a bit dangerous…

Xia Yan: Don’t worry – my sense of balance is very good, and I won’t fall down.

>Select: Leg (2)

Xia Yan: W-what are you doing…

MC: Some… some dust fell there! So I…

>Select: Leg (3)

MC: (I’m really jealous of guys with long legs…)

>Select: Stool

MC: I’ve wanted to ask from the start – where did you find this ladder?

Xia Yan: I saw it earlier when we passed by the stairs – back then, I felt a strong premonition. Sure enough, it came in handy!

>Select: Stool (2)

MC: (The ladder is a triangular structure… it should be very stable.)

>Select: Stool (3)

MC: (Though it’s very stable, it’s still better to not bump into it for Xia Yan’s safety…)

>Select: File

MC: (So it was a leather file envelope after all…)

>Select: File (2)

MC: (It doesn’t look like it has a magnetic tape inside…)

>Select: File (3)

MC: (Whatever – without X-ray vision, I won’t be able to see anything just from looking…)

>Select: Ellipses

Xia Yan waved the hand holding the leather file envelope in front of me, calling me back to reality.

MC: What?

Xia Yan: No wonder you didn’t pay any attention to me no matter how I called at you. Turns out you were zoning out. Quick, take the file envelope – I’m still holding up the newspapers on top, and I don’t have hands to spare for now.

MC: Mm, sure!

MC: Wait… a-achoo!

The pretty dust under the light had now found its way into my nose. I hadn’t taken the file envelope when I sneezed in Xia Yan’s direction.

His seating position was unstable, and only after some messy movements did he manage to maintain his bit of balance on the stool supporting him.

MC: …

Xia Yan: Q-quick, back up a bit!

Seeing Xia Yan look so panicked on the ladder, I hurriedly retreated by a few steps.

MC: S-sorry, the dust…

Xia Yan: I’m not blaming you – I’m just afraid that you won’t be able to dodge if I really do fall.

So Xia Yan’s panicked look just now was out of worry for me…

MC: I’m fine – you should hurry down from the ladder.

Xia Yan: Sure.

Xia Yan handed the file envelope to me. I was just about to take it, when the dust scattered by the old newspapers made him sneeze successively, multiple times.

Xia Yan: A-achoo--!

Xia Yan retracted his left hand slightly, and the newspapers on the bookshelf suddenly fell down in a pile!

Xia Yan: Ah! Careful--!

With my attention previously fixed on the file envelope, I couldn’t duck away at all!

Amidst the panic, I unconsciously closed my eyes.

PART 5

I heard the heavy sound of the ladder toppling down, but the pain I was expecting never struck. Xia Yan’s warm hand protected my head from behind, serving as the cushion between me and the floorboards.

I opened my eyes. Xia Yan’s and my faces were very close.

MC: …?

After my thoughts stagnated for a few seconds, I gradually came to from my surprise.

MC: Xia Yan? Are you alright?

Xia Yan: Huh?!

It seemed like he hadn’t recovered from this accident yet. His wide-open eyes stared right at me.

The distance between him and me was way too close – only then did I notice that I had never clearly seen his eyes. That beautiful coral colour made me unable to resist recalling the fairytale I read when I was little – the skirt of Princess Aurora.* Because we were so close, I could even clearly see me, at an utter loss, in his eyes.

MC: The things that fell just now crashed into your head – lower it and let me see…

Xia Yan remained frozen still in his original place, staring straight at me.

Xia Yan: Your eyes…

MC: Hm?

Xia Yan: Are really beautiful…

Xia Yan: They look like... a sky full of stars are hidden in them…

Xia Yan lowered his body, and the distance between him and I gradually—

Ding—

A crisp sound echoed in the quiet room. That key that Xia Yan always wore on his neck clinked lightly against the decoration on my blouse’s collar.

I suddenly regained my wits and immediately felt the heat on my cheeks.

MC: !!

Xia Yan: !!!

Xia Yan pulled away, fast as lightning, and awkwardly moved his gaze elsewhere. Those scattered, old newspapers covered his body, scattering innumerable particles into the air. The moment he moved his gaze from me, I saw that his cheeks and ears had been dyed with a distinct pink colour. Right when I was also somewhat unsure of what to do, I saw the file envelope that had fallen on the side from the corner of my eye—

MC: W-where’s the file envelope you were holding…

Xia Yan: Ah… ah! I’ll get up now and grab it!

As if he’d just woken up, Xia Yan straightened his body in front of me, bringing the sunshine scent he had that I’d smelled from a slight breeze. His slightly rapid breathing revealed his inner panic – he looked basically like a different person from the normal him.

Xia Yan: Does it hurt from the fall?!

MC: … No.

He shifted his gaze away again, turning his head and picking up the leather envelope on the ground. His embarrassed expression still did not fade away. I patted my chest, grateful that he had pulled away after getting up – otherwise, he would definitely hear my over-the-top heartbeat.

MC & Xia Yan: I…

…

MC: Hurry, open and see what’s inside…

Xia Yan: Mhmm…

Xia Yan rapidly untied the string loop at the back of the envelope.

Xia Yan: As expected, it was the tape! Now the commission’s been smoothly completed!

Xia Yan: … Speaking of which, aren’t you curious?

MC: Curious about what? The things in the tape?

Xia Yan nodded.

MC: I keep feeling like it’ll have something to do with the grandma…

He looked at me, seeming to smile yet also seeming to not smile. Only after a while did he say a few carefree words.

Xia Yan: That’s also what I think.

The moment his and my eyes met, my heartbeat suspiciously accelerated a bit.

MC: Could it be for the same reason as me?

Xia Yan: … I was just kind of thinking from another position.

MC: Hm?

Xia Yan: If it were me, what I least want to forget… is definitely you.

Xia Yan: Wait no – no matter what happens, I will definitely, definitely not forget you.

Xia Yan’s tone was incomparably solemn, leaving me at somewhat of a loss.

MC: Why did you suddenly…

Xia Yan: Those precious memories with you – if they were just words on a journal or the sounds on a tape… that would be too much of a waste!

He looked at me, showing his typical smile again. The orange light smoothed the curve of his mouth until it was just right. I felt like, no matter who it was, anyone would be infected by his warmth.

MC: I… there’s dust on your face – I’ll wipe it for you…

I didn’t know what to say, and when I saw the dust on the side of his face, I hurried to take out a handkerchief and wipe it for him. When the dust had been wiped, I looked back at Xia Yan… his face… was really red…

>Is it because it’s hot? >Embarrassed until his face got red?

MC: Xia Yan… your face is really red… Are you too tired from running up and down just now?

Xia Yan: Ah… yeah! It must be because it’s been too long since I worked out! Starting from tomorrow, I’ll double my original workout plan and make up for it!

MC: Is that needed…

>Is it because it’s hot? >Embarrassed until his face got red?

MC: I’m just helping you wipe it – why is your face as red as an apple? When we were little, you’d go out and run all over the place and return completely dirty, and I also helped you wipe your face like this…

Xia Yan: Haha, don’t bring up the embarrassing things from when we were small – back then, I didn’t know anything. But after splitting apart for so long… there are some things… that I inevitably learned.

MC: …

Xia Yan: Aiya, the floor’s a mess – I’ll clean up.

MC: I’ll help!

After finding the tape, Xia Yan and I returned the papers and books that had fallen on the floor back to their original places.

Xia Yan: Let’s go – we’re done cleaning up, so let’s go home!

MC: Mhmm.

Under Xia Yan’s urging, we left this remote mansion with the tape we had found.

TL Note:

*Not sure if this is referring to Sleeping Beauty? I don’t remember pretty eyes and skirts being major points in her story though…

PART 6

TL Note: Italicized content (except for locations) were originally written in English in the game, not Chinese.

Antiques Shop

After getting back to the antiques shop, Xia Yan took out an audio reader from who-knows-where.

MC: With this, you’re planning to…?

Xia Yan: Oh, if I didn’t get my client’s approval, I wouldn’t randomly mess with it. The client this time specifically hoped that I could transfer the contents of the tape into an audio recording file and send it to her.

MC: That’s true. Very few families these days would have this kind of old-fashioned tape player.

Xia Yan placed the tape into the audio reader, connecting the recoding wire to the audio reader’s terminal.

Xia Yan: Alright! We can start.

Xia Yan pressed the play button. An inexperienced, youthful sound flowed out from the speaker.

Young Girl: “That…”

The owner of the voice was a very brisk girl.

Young Girl: “I’m too direct when I speak. I know you also like… uh… no! I found out from your friend that you like to listen to music. If you can understand this song… Do your best to not make me, a girl, take the initiative to confess! Dummy!”

After a short pause, the clear sound of the girl’s singing rung out…

Young Girl: “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older…”

She had clearly been so straightforward when she spoke, but when she sang, it was extremely gentle. A girl wearing earbuds, swaying gently with the music seemed to appear before my eyes… She used her own gentle voice, eyes, and movements… doing all within her ability to express her most sincere love to the recipient.

MC: What song is this? It sounds really good.

Xia Yan: I’ll check… “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”, an old song from 60 years ago.

The melodious song echoed in the antiques shop, every note reverberating in the bottom of the heart.

MC: No wonder the grandpa was so concerned about this tape… this was probably sung by the grandma for him when they were young.

Xia Yan: It’s impossible to not feel moved from receiving a confession like this.

MC: True, even I’m moved!

Xia Yan: Do you like this song a lot?

MC: I do… but no matter how good a song sounds, it’s only when the singer expresses emotions that they’ll be able to touch people’s hearts the most.

MC: I really want to have the grandpa listen to it fast!

After the sound of the music dissipated, Xia Yan took out the tape.

Xia Yan: Transferring the audio recording file is actually really quick, but I still need the next week to clean it up and make the sounds clearer.

MC: Great! That…

Xia Yan: What’s the matter?

MC: I want to listen to it for a moment more – can you play the original song?

Xia Yan: And here I thought you wanted to hear me sing.

MC: Could you? I remember that you just searched up the song name.

Xia Yan: I can learn if I don’t know how to – my learning ability is really strong.

MC: Okay, then I’ll invite great singing god Xia Yan to sing once!

The sky grew gradually dimmer. Xia Yan sent me home, half humming and half singing the whole way. The night wind blew past, and the brisk melody rode on the wind, echoing at the end of the road.

Home

MC: Download complete!

After getting home, I opened the music app I often used, search up this song, and downloaded it.

MC: Eh, this song was even the theme song of a movie? “50 First Dates”… First Love 50 Times? It’s a pretty interesting name. How about I call up Xia Yan next time to watch this movie?

Just when I was searching up resources on this movie, Xia Yan called.

MC: Have you gotten home?

Xia Yan: Mhmm, I did! I just received my client’s reply…

MC: So fast?

Xia Yan: It’s the time difference – she just happened to be online. What we found really was the confession tape that the grandma gave to the grandpa back then.

Xia Yan: Back then she wasn’t sure that it would be a success, so she placed the confession tap in a pile of music tapes and sent them over. But the grandpa didn’t react at all, so she thought that he didn’t hear it at all or lost it. Plus, afterwards, the grandpa didn’t continue to buy new tapes.

MC: Then in the end, they…

Xia Yan: About this…

Xia Yan’s tone was full of smiles.

Xia Yan: The grandma said, she originally thought that being just friends was also fine. After, it was the grandpa who took the initiative to chase her and confess.

MC: Wait, could it be with that confession sudoku?

Xia Yan: That’s right! The grandma was very reclusive back then, so as she lived on her own, she’d often make questions for fun.

MC: I never would’ve thought that the grandpa was faking a calm, collected demeanor, while actually being elated for sure internally…

Xia Yan: Yeah, the grandma also said that, no wonder he would often sneak into the book room in the past, staying there for a long time when he did.

MC: What the grandpa remembered at the end wasn’t the name of the song – instead, it was the tape. This means that what he loves isn’t this song – it’s the grandma.

Xia Yan: So she decided that she would sing for him in the future, regardless if he remembers it again or doesn’t.

Xia Yan: I wanted to tell you earlier so you would be happier.

Xia Yan: It’s pretty late now – sleep early. Goodnight!

MC: Goodnight!

Only after hanging up did I remember that I hadn’t told him about the movie.

MC: Oh well… I’ll send him a message later.

Antiques Shop

Xia Yan sat before the table. The song was still playing on the terminal.

He hummed and sang quietly.

Xia Yan: When we can say goodnight and stay together. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up… In the morning when the day is new.

If we could say goodnight to each other and nestle together, if we could open our eyes together, welcoming each new morning, wouldn’t that be nice.

Xia Yan: I trust that, the precondition “if” doesn’t exist between me and you…

Xia Yan: I will definitely make all of this true.

-END-

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #xia yan #weiding shijian bu #未定事件簿 #夏彦 #tot translation #finally caught up on all the major xia yan content!!!#anything that i haven't translated (one date and two calls) that relate to his cards have been translated by others #this date is pretty early on in the timeline #feeling lost now that i have no major xia yan content to work on #i could work on main story ch.6 #but everything after part 6-1 doesn't have the slightest bit of xia yan in it #very sad #so it might take a while

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