#finds a bong specific to my interests | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harrowharkwife · 19 days

Note

for the character meme: dulcie or cam or pal or a character of ur choosing!!! hehe

!!!!! ty lem!! im gonna do my girl dulcie...

favorite thing about them: honestly just the way she's written- it never fails to make me emotional that she *is* explicitly written as being brave and strong, but tamsyn neatly sidesteps the "inspiration porn" ableist stereotype of writing a character as being brave/strong *because* they are sick. dulcie isn't brave or strong because of her illness. her strength and bravery are explicitly positioned, IMO, as being in response to surviving *ableism* and other people's condescension towards her and mistreatment of her, rather than surviving her illness itself, if that makes sense. her health is just a fact of her life, it's not moralized. which i really, really appreciate. it's a small shift, but it's very meaningful to me.

ALSO deeply special to me: her intentional and careful commitment to boundaries re: The Palamedes Of It All. a refreshing change of pace, as far as these books go vgjtjxdjt

least favorite thing about them: i mean. houser. :/

favorite line: three way tie between "truly, wonderful news for my haters," "i am sick of roses and horny for revenge," and "oops, there i go again, never doing what i'm told"

brOTP: gideon!!!!! i think it's a crying shame they've never met. i think they'd get along tremendously. the whole cytherea gideon thing was Horrid and Awful in so many ways, but it always Extra stings (in an adding-insult-to-injury sort of way) when i think about what it would have been like if gideon had REALLY met dulcinea, and not cyth. dulcie would've been a great friend for her, i think. they'd have been so good at making each other laugh

OTP: honestly these days it's cam? @ palamedes ily but get outta here gayboy it's yuri time now. plus i just love chewing on the concept of cam + comphet, and cam + subconscious internalized misogyny, and cam + gender, and cam + her relationships and interactions with other women. i think there's lots to explore there. camdulcie has a certain "when i was eight i didn't realize i had a crush on the new girl in my grade so i just wrote her a note that said 'get out of my school'" energy about it, To Me

nOTP: idk if i really have one for her, specifically? idk. ianthe or something, fuck it.

random headcanon: stoner. on all levels except physical she is taking fuckall huge bong rips. on the physical level though her lungs suck so i think she'd be a tincture girlie. she's got chronic pain she deserves it. am i projecting? you tell me

unpopular opinion: idk if this is an unpopular opinion exactly, but i always see people referring to thee rejected proposal as being something born primarily out of love/out of romantic intent? and i don't know if that's necessarily how i see it. it was CERTAINLY, and obviously, a factor. but at least from my interpretation of pal's monologue to cytherea at the end there, i get the sense that he had already accepted her boundaries in that regard, because he says he "understood that he was a child." and we also get camilla saying that his motivations in proposing were primarily a means-to-an-end way of getting her off the seventh and letting her die with dignity. iirc her exact words were like "so she could spend what time she had left with people who cared about her." like, don't get me wrong, i think pal is lying to himself if he says that being in love with dulcie wasn't PART of the motivation there. but i find it a lot more interesting in a worldbuilding and social commentary way to interpret the circumstances there as him offering, essentially, to be a hospice doctor at age 19, and marriage being the 'easiest' way to get her off the seventh/planet medical malpractice. there's an imperial misogyny ownership-through-marriage throughline there that's nauseating, as well as the implications re: disability and agency and autonomy, and i think that's all very interesting to explore. i think this view is supported in part by the paldulcie interaction in TUG, where she alludes to the idea that she was cognizant about the impact that bearing witness to death and loss up-close and personal like that changes a person, and that she didn't want to do that to pal and cam, especially given their age. i think it informa dulcie's character and grants her additional narrative agency to look at things from that angle, of her "no" being in reference to *both* the age gap AND her intentional choice to continue suffering on the seventh, rather than put two kids through being hospice caregivers and/or widowers at nineteen– no matter how many times and how sincerely they kept offering, no matter that she would've absolutely had a more peaceful and comfortable end-of-life HAD she accepted his proposal and gone to the sixth to die. i think it says a lot about her as a person, that choice. there's a quiet and meaningful responsibility to her as a person that i find fascinating. and her character is just sooooo firmly rooted in and informed by disability politics, on every level, and i feel like people don't engage with that aspect of her characterization enough!

song i associate with them: ooooh SO many, i have a whole playlist. but i think the biggest ones are

-the drama by kesha ("friday night, get too high, keep checking my pulse, am i dead yet?" / "in the next life i wanna come back, as a housecat as a housecat! i'd sleep and play in the sun, i'd be a fuckin' cute son of a gun!")

-avant gardener by courtney barnett (the whole song really, but especially the lines "the paramedic thinks i'm clever cause i play guitar, i think she's clever cause she stops people dyin'," and "i take a hit off an asthma puffer, i do it wrong, i was never good at smokin' bongs." i just think she'd love this song.)

-honorable mentions include stoned at the nail salon by lorde, life according to raechel by madison cunningham, rose-colored boy by paramore (@ palamedes, lmfao), picture me better by weyes blood, extraordinary machine by fiona apple, rubberband girl by kate bush, last words of a shooting star by mitski.

favorite picture of them: oh man well it obviously has to be my icon... art made for me by the lovely @franzias-cave !!!! based on the concept of "the woman is dying, please do her the decency of allowing her to look the part in fanart." my girl... she's a malign fairy, she's a hot-eyed wraith <3

ty lem this was so fun! i love my gworl :')

36 notes · View notes

bull-shit-suji · 1 month

Text

kuro modern au stuff that i word vomited into my notes app

kind of a Vincent summoned sebastian to save ciel so ciel doesnt actually owe sebas anything

amnesia? idk

single dad moment! except theres this other dad whos kinda find.. (cough agni)

i think vincent was like do NOT let ciel know ur a demon so sebastian keeps it a secret but he doesnt have a good handle on like. Humans. so he kinda does a bad job and ciel definitely knows that he's weird but doesnt say anything. will go out of his way to gaslight you when sebastian does weird shit because he thinks its funny

"hey uhh is your dad levitating?"

"no?"

"he's flying above the school rn"

"that's a bird"

u think suddenly being a butler is hard? have fun being a dad bitch

alois is there but thats complicated. claude and hannah are DIVORCED but on decent terms (i think claude is like. toxic alpha male podcast type guy) and claude sees alois on alternating weekends!

are they demons? i dont know

i think ciel and alois can be friends. platonically. alois would probably say yes if ciel wanted to be romantic but i Promise you he does not. they are just pals :)

im saying ciel has a crush on elizabeth because i can (she's not his cousin here). emo boy x sunny church girl. said sunny church girl has to ask the mcdonalds employees for the blue raspberry slushie they forgot to put in ciel's order because emo boy is too scared.

IM 13 EVERYTHING SUCKSSSSS

grelle is actually living her best life transitioned with anne so they are ciel's aunts on his late mom's side. i think grelle likes ciel. mom figure moreso than anne is.

ciel owns four bongs and definitely a vape or two. come on now

he's also probably got celiac and is lactose intolerant he is just a feeble boy i think

he listens to twenty one pilots. sorry! sorry.

ciel is goth alois is punk those r kinda just the rules

ciel is insanely smart top of the class this shit is easy for him.

yells at sebastian daily. figured out what happened with his real parents around the age of uhhhh 12 or 13? has been an absolute terror ever since

"it was really nice of your dad to bring cookies for the field trip!"

"i hope he fucking chokes on one"

"oh!"

sebastian and claude are pta rivals.

"is this lemon bread store bought? my, how... efficient!"

"you made these from scratch? i can tell."

"i've never seen an interesting looking salsa! very exciting."

ciel purposefully invites alois over constantly bcus it pisses sebas off. alois is Terrified of that man.

"go grab the chips from the kitchen"

"but... what if mr michaelis is in there?"

"mr m- you mean my dad? tell him he can shove a faucet up his ass"

"id rather die on the spot"

sebastian will yell at ciel and is maybe a little emotionally unavailable but he's trying!!! it's hard :(

does that Dad thing where he comes into ciels room and is like hey bud......... what r u up to..

ciel and seiglinde r also palls. the smartest people in school

lizzie is a JOCK. she plays softball.

alois is a theater kid come on now

ciel is best at writing and literature analysis, specifically fiction. enjoys history, language, and Some sciences as well.

nerd

au where myspace is still a thing ciel has a myspace account

he definitely writes shitty poetry

wants to major in business

alois is a glee and pitch perfect truther

53 notes · View notes

betatrolls · 4 months

Text

Updated about me

(pt: Updated about me /end pt)

Main info:

(pt: Main info: /end pt)

⚠️‼️-> MINOR <-‼️⚠️

currently fronting: idk lol

any pronouns are fine, in order of preference they are she/xenos/they/it/he

dni: basic dni, zionists, proshippers (includes anti-anti), sysmeds (includes anti-endos (FOR FUCKS SAKE IF YOU HAVE "NON-TRAUMAGENIC SYSTEMS AND SUPPORTERS" IN YOUR DNI GO AWAY)), and exclusionists (terfs, aphobes, against mspec gay/les, folks who use tma/tme, etc). otherwise, we block freely.

please don't send me chain mail asks :)

my drawme

free palestine 🇵🇸

What happens on this blog:

(pt: What happens on this blog: /end pt)

mostly reblogs, as well as assorted personal posts and occasional sort-of-art

Tags:

(pt: Tags: /end pt)

#post - all of my original posts

#honk honk - only gamzee's posts

#faygoposting - self explanatory

#ask - asks

#system stuff - posts related toy system

#pissmaster - reminds me of my beloved irlsie

#fave - favorite reblogs

#ultra fave - ultra favorite reblogs

#nayapost - only kanaya's posts

#[emoji] interest - we have a few of these, reblogs that interest specific headmates, mostly art of our sources that we like but some other stuff

#mewtuals - my beloved mewtuals ^w^

#men suffering - men in physical or emotional pain, usually physical, usually wrestlers drenched in blood

#cronuspost - cronus. when he posts

#feffypost - feferi post !!

Fandom dump:

(pt: Fandom dump: /end pt)

Homestuck, Gravity Falls, Scott Pilgrim, Clone High, Grease, Neil Cicierega, My Little Pony (g4), Death Note, Voidbound, Undertale/Deltarune, Invader Zim, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, Evil Bong, Dan Vs, Dracula the novel, Danganronpa, All Tomorrows, Mystery Flesh Pit, Smiling Friends

Non-fandom interests:

(pt: Non-fandom interests /end pt)

Clowns in general, Mysteries of all kinds, Palaeontology, Speculative Biology/Speculative Evolution, Anthropology, Cryptozoology, Astronomy, Medical Science, Folk Mythology, Ancient History, Chemistry, We're gonna be here all day if i try and list EVERY field of science I'm autistic about but that's the basics

Music:

(pt: Music: /end pt)

Find my spotify here, my main playlist with everything on it is "the everything"

My top five musical artists in no particular order are insane clown posse, my chemical romance, lemon demon, jack off jill, and radiohead

Identity:

(pt: Identity: /end pt)

We're a DID system 👍🏻

the autismerrrrrr

We're a poly-type otherkin, find my list of kintypes here

We hoard and use xenogenders, find our hoard here

Bits and bobs:

(pt: Bits and bobs: /end pt)

Collectively, our Classpect is Maid of Heart (classpect quiz)

However, our "True Sign" given by the official Extended Zodiac quiz is Lepia

INTP babey

this section is all personality typing huh. whatever

Coulrophile. Slash Ess Are Ess.

clown collection here

#4bec13

fantroll info (subject to change)

second fantroll info (check the "oc: peepee poopoo" tag for more peepee poopoo and the "keyz fantroll" tag for all of my fantroll posts)

very important. i am not a good person.

For mutuals:

(pt: For mutuals: /end pt)

On request, I will sprite one of your fantrolls for free. If you don't have a fantroll, i can make you one, or an edit or resprite of a canon character. [examples to be linked soon lmao]

Categories coming soon:

individual headmate profiles, blinkies masterpost, and links to past analysis posts

#intro post #post

25 notes · View notes

theliterarywolf · 11 months

Note

Ok I just HAD to share this anecdote with you, after I saw the Kenyan woman video you reblogged it had reminded me of something hilarious

So to preface this I am a white woman through and through from the deep south.

Anyway when I was a teenager I was hungry for foreign bands that would cater to my specific tastes which led me to find a South African band called Fokofpolisiekar, and as such fall down a rabbit hole learning about the language called Afrikaans, really interesting stuff!

I then end up nearly being called racist when I was mentioning the band to this black girl in my class when I had told her the name of the language that they sung in said band

"That's racist! You can't even remember what language they speak?! There's no such thing as Afrikaans!!"

Um. Yeah looking back on it now it's hilarious

Ha!

I think instances like that serve as a firm reminder that the biggest hurdle against cultural exchange and the sharing of ideas isn't outright bigotry but the vehement to challenge one's own perspectives.

Because the correct version of what your friend should have been 'Oh, I'm... not familiar with Afrikaans'.

And that's how you get a dialogue going and, bing-bong-boom, she would have gained more perspective on the band and the language.

33 notes · View notes

oldfritz · 2 years

Note

hm for asks, can you talk about hetalia characters you find cool in concept but never bother with? Or about your mutuals' favourite characters!

Tell us about a character you liked but dont really care anymore, and about a character you dislike a lot!

Talk about characters who's fans you dont like, and about characters who's fans are "ah, fellow people with sophisticated taste"!

Talk about a character you like in theory but not in any interpretation or depiction, that is, character you like as a character but dont think they are fit to be in hetalia

I think Yao/Ch!na is a really interesting dude. Ancient man, seen a lotta shit, been through a lotta different styles of government. China has a long and rich history you could do quite a bit with. I took two classes on it in undergrad and, while I don't remember a lot of the details now of who did what/why/when, I found it immensely enlightening from a 'why China is what is is today' perspective, which is what I ultimately got. I don't write him for that reason and, honestly, don't know how I'd fit him into what I'm writing unless I pivoted to making Lutz and Al main characters (which I'm not). I would love some good recs from people who read historically-based stuff that includes Yao. This applies for In/dia too for much the same reasons. What does it mean to be so old when you're immortal? How do you avoid apathy? How do you keep life interesting? Could also go into weightier topics with them as well - how it feels to have been both colonizer and colonized, not sure if it applies to In/dia as well but certainly Yao - but the writer would have to be knowledgeable and skilled enough to pull it off. I don't think your generic fanfic author can - I get nervous about publicly toeing the line myself

I used to be an Alfred and Arthur stan. They were my favorite characters in the entire series!!! They had the benefit of being the countries I'm most familiar with because, if you haven't heard, I got that dual citizenship dudes. Now, don't get me wrong, I still enjoy writing them whenever they appear naturally and have a lot of Thoughts on how they should be characterized, what their relationships with each other/everyone else should be, etc but they're not the main focus of 90% of my fics now. They're guest stars that I love to have on set (goddamn that's trite). As for who I don't like, I've never been a Matthew person. I think it's doing a disservice to an entire country to just have his personality be 'forgettable' and 'soft-spoken.' Which like yeah sure, I follow people who have done more with him and have made him an actually interesting character (credit to Foxholes, whose url changed and now I can't find them and don't wanna tag their history blog), but beyond the one or two characterizations of him, I don't care. Man smells like stale bong water

Eh, I'm gonna plead the fifth on that one. I don't wanna gripe about specific fans because there's good and bad in every subset. Plus, no reason to go hurting feelings. Though those Gilbo stans can be real freaks. Who the fuck likes a country called Prussia?

Hmm, interesting question. All the major nations don't bother me and make sense for why they're there. I also appreciate HRE being around, but I'm not crazy about a lot of things about his characterization. I especially hate the bad Italian accent he has in the English dub. Have never gotten that because, as Voltaire once put it, that empire ain't Roman. I think there's a lotta cool stuff you can do with HRE (@kisamesopelagic 's Karl is awesome and parts of theirs has served as inspiration for mine, who tends to linger just-offscreen) but the canon one is very meh. As for one's who I don't think belong point blank period, the entirety of the micronations. I have a hard time buying that Sealand is out here running around like a menace but state, provinces, prefectures, etc aren't. A fucking rusty ass fort in the middle of the Atlantic versus Quebec? Get outta here dude. Plus, besides some of their designs, all their personalities grate on my nerves. A whole ass African continent with next to no characters depicted but yay we got Kugelmugel. Jfc

#writing the country names like that because i hate going into the real tags for them #real shit is happening there no one looking for news needs to think about hetalia lol #asks #anonymous #helltalia #as always i find a reason to shit talk matthew #its really not his fault its the prucan fans on da from 09-12 #you guys were annoying as hell and honestly? i definitely was too

4 notes · View notes

queerspacepunk · 3 years

Text

so i’ve been feeling some big livejournal nostalgia lately. or rather, nostalgia for ways of interacting online a la livejournal. Like, back in the livejournal days, you would make a post, and people would comment on it and you would reply to that comment and back and forth and so on.

and no, this is in no way a ‘kids these days’ attack on the way we internet now. it’s not our fault. the platforms we use have pushed us unerringly into this. into likes instead of comments. into replies being a one-way thing or a private convo and that kinda sucks.

hell i’m even nostalgic for early tumblr days when we still had that mindset and people would post stuff and we couldn’t reply yet so we would reblog with our own commentary and so on. or when we could reply and we’d make posts with their replies and reply to that and so on.

i was nostalgic for this at the start of this year too, and even made a dreamwidth, but there just aren’t the people there and lets face it, we’re all stuck in the hellscape that is tumblr so lets make the most of it.

the most rewarding thing i’ve done this year may well be writing WYDMTH, and mostly because of the comments people leave, and the chance to reply to them. i get excited for what you’re gonna think about it, what you might say, and it’s like the The Good Old Days.

So, I wanna try and maybe revive a lil of that here. And I don’t know if it’s going to work or not, because community (even online community) ain’t a spectator sport, it’s not a one person thing -- and that’s no judgement on you if your ideal tumblr experience is different. If you wanna just scroll and reblog and talking to folks and getting to know them aint your thing, that’s cool. do you.

but if it is? then lets do this! I will make my best efforts to engage with your posts and content and you can make your best efforts to do the same and maybe we’ll get somewhere with this, and maybe we won’t, but let’s give it a shot, yeah?

#bing bong #i'm feeling a tad vulnerable here #worrying that no one is going to want to talk to me and you'll all judge me for posting this #but that's okay #i'm willing to risk it #yes engage #which will be my tag specifically for stuff that Is For Engaging #versus 'no engage' which would be the opposite #let me know if yr interested and if so maybe we can set up some #not ground rules bc that sounds too strict #but like #a group discussion abt what engaging etiquette looks like #ALSO if there are other platforms other social medias discords (though i find discord a bit hard) where this does happen let me know #i feel like theres a secret club of dragon age queers that no one's told me about yet #let's be friends #will be the tag for this type of chat too

2 notes · View notes

pushpinpossumwitchcraft · 2 years

Text

420 Friendly Witch Tips

Just so you know, I’m of age in a state where weed is legal. If you’re not in a legal area or age range, I wouldn’t recommend this. And it’s not for everyone! If you’re not interested that’s more than okay! It’s YOUR craft for a reason! I’ve just tailored mine to me a little bit here too.

I smoke on a pretty regular basis, both recreationally and for things such as anxiety and other mental health reasons. I’ve realized that there are a lot of reasons it has such a calming effect. It could be breath work, could be visual stimulation from the smoke swirls, it could be that it’s easier to let my thoughts come and go without lingering on them. Either way, I realized that I could incorporate that zen into my craft. Here are some of the ways I do that!

1. Moon water in your bong

2. smoke cleansing your space/crystals,etc

3.Visualizing internal cleansing as you inhale and exhale

4. Add intent to each hit. After all, you’re taking a deep breath, why not focus your energy on something you’d like to come to fruition? I manifest a clear, level head.

5. I haven’t quite worked with deities yet, but I’ve seen many others say that sharing or dedicating a bowl to your deities can be something they like, depending on who you work with. I don’t know much about deities, so I’ll stop here.

6. Ashes. Weed ashes can be used in spellwork, similar to incense ash and other forms.

7. I personally like to smoke a little, meditate for a moment, and then do a couple of tarot readings. I find I’m more open when I smoke

8. In reference to number 7, I also bought a smoke blend meant to be mixed with weed (or tobacco but that’s not my vibe), that has things like mugwort, lavender, valerian, and more that’s specifically used to help open the third eye and your senses. I bought through the company called Bear Blend (not a sponsor, I honestly don’t think they know I exist). I chose this brand since it’s a small indigenous run business, and as a small town native person, I tend to support as many indigenous businesses I can.

I hope this was helpful, and remember to please make wise decisions based on the laws in your area. I don’t recommend this to anyone underage or in a place where it is illegal. If you choose to make an unwise decision, please don’t hold me liable. And again, if its not your cup of tea, don’t worry about it! Your craft is for you to enjoy.

#weed witch #witch tips #baby witch #beginner witch #energy work #intent #tarot #smoke cleansing #moon water #possum's grimoire #grimoire #meditation #third eye

618 notes · View notes

seokmingiggles · 3 years

Text

smoke signals.

alt title: do you still listen to phoebe bridgers?

Vernon Chwe x gender neutral reader

Genre: suggestive, light angst to light fluff, friends to something akin to lovers, perhaps.

2.34k words

Warnings: kissing with tongue (lol), I kind of describe hickeys, implied smut, brief nakedness, drug usage (weed [please don't do this in a car. or at least have someone sober with you to drive afterwards ;-;]), Vern and mc are bad at feelings, but I swear I didn't end it in angst as my first draft had.

You find it difficult to read your friend, to say the least. Despite knowing him for most of your life, you still aren’t easily able to determine his true feelings nor intentions. You can’t help but wonder if you and he are meant to be something beyond friends or if you two had already ruined your relationship the other week when neither of you had been sober. Alternatively, a night you’d previously spent with Vernon plagues your mind. Maybe it’s not the worst thing to be hanging on to, compared to the hopes that he feels the same longing as you.

A/N: I unexpectedly remembered Phoebe Bridgers one evening, and with it came the memory of a person from one point in my life. I've never used a bong before, nor do I smoke; I hope these facts aren't too apparent in my writing. On another note, I do not condone driving while high. (I’ve tried my best to imply Vernon only drives once he’s become more sober.) This is a work of fiction. Please don't be careless and instead have a DD to keep you and others safe. I also do not condone drug use by minors. Vernon and my mc are both adults.

The title of this fic directly comes from Phoebe Bridgers' song of the same name. The vibe is quite mellow; I think it fits the following scenes quite nicely.

Taglist: None for this unless I get specific requests to be included in suggestive works! I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfy :D

•• "Do you still listen to Phoebe Bridgers?"

A car outside honks; the noisy traffic on this side of town almost makes Vernon's "Yeah" inaudible as he continues to scroll aimlessly on his phone. The light illuminating his face from the electronic device isn't the most flattering—it makes his nose and forehead look shiny, his lips chapped.

He doesn't seem interested in any conversation; it's a hunch you have from the way he doesn't acknowledge you nor continue to speak. Vernon scratches the side of his face where you'd been peering at him.

You watch his hands. His fingers.

A sudden memory floods your mind, coming in bouts like ocean waves lapping at the sandy shore of your clarity.

•

You were in the backseat of Vernon's car. You couldn't determine the time, quite likely sometime past midnight but not at an ungodly late hour; enough for the rest of the town surrounding you to be fast asleep, leaving you and the boy to do whatever you wanted without any prying eyes.

Vernon sat beside you, the neck of his creamsicle-swirled bong in one hand, his other raking through his sandy hair as his head leant back against the seat. He exhaled after holding his breath; a thick cloud of smoke wafted from behind his cherry lips that curled upwards with the passing seconds. With eyelids relaxed in a half-closed state, Vernon rolled his head to the side, looking at you with his grin gradually spreading wider across his face when he met your gaze. You didn't miss the way his eyes flickered, roaming across your body; you were as good as naked beneath his stare, already vulnerable although clad in an old hoodie and lounge pants. Vernon's tongue jutted out to dampen his lips before he leant towards you and handed you the bong.

You matched his lazy smile and accepted the decorative glass, making sure to brush the boy's hand with your own in the process.

Vernon slid you the lighter from across the middle seat of the car—you were there when he bought it from the dollar store; just a simple Bic lighter with a snakeskin-like pattern in dark sage green—but rather than allowing you to take it from his grasp, he took your hand, much to your surprise.

You and Vernon stared at each other, faces barely illuminated if it weren't for the moon shining through the clear night sky and flooding through the car's windshield.

He didn't let go of you. Rather, he began to pull you closer towards him.

•

You keep an eye on Vernon's thumb as he pads it across his phone screen. You couldn't care less as to what he's looking at; you're far more interested in the shape of his hand, something both familiar and somehow still foreign to you.

"Do you need something?"

Vernon's sudden voice slicing through the small room startles you—you hadn't realized that he'd caught you looking at him, or rather his hand. But now, as your attention has been drawn to the boy's face, you can't help but stare at his lips. They're blatantly bitten, a bad habit of his that he hasn't yet managed to let go of, yet you can't help but wish that it was you who put those marks on his supple skin.

You open your mouth but flounder at what to say right away.

•

You wouldn't be able to explain how you got here in this situation. It all happened so suddenly—or maybe not as quick as you thought; you're high out of your mind with your head buzzing comfortably, and it's almost as if you're floating, causing each and every sensation against your skin to heighten.

This includes the way Vernon's lips feel against yours.

Still in the backseat of his car, you were now straddling the boy's lap, fingers weaving through his already messy hair, a hand cupping his jawline. Your mind was so fuzzy; you didn't realize at first when Vernon's tongue entered your mouth, laced with the taste of marijuana and something sweet that you couldn't pinpoint off the top of your head right now. His hands wandered across your body; you bit at his lower lip. You could no longer tell if the hot air flowing through the car's front vents was the cause of your flushed face or if it was because of the heat radiating from between your and Vernon's bodies. He squeezed the side of your thigh; a noise, perhaps resembling pleasure, escaped from your throat. You were beyond the point of caring what noises you made.

You couldn't have been certain that what progressed would have happened had the two of you not shared the contents of Vernon's bong. You undeniably wanted him, all of him, and as close to you as possible, but an unwanted thought popped into your head as you parted from the kiss for Vernon to pull your shirt over your head—isn't he just a friend? Isn't Vernon—an albeit attractive, handsome, charming in every way you can imagine, right now kissing the crook of your neck and wandering his lips up to your earlobe and whispering exactly what he wants to do to you for you and you only to hear—just a friend?

Frankly, you were well aware that you weren't in your right mind—the way you fiddled with the bottom hem of his shirt hinting that you wanted him to join you in your topless state showcased it perfectly. Had you ever even seen Vernon without a shirt before tonight? It didn't matter now, as your eyes flickered across his bare shoulders, hands following soon after. You would have tomorrow to deal with whatever consequences that would arise with the morning sun.

Vernon's skin felt even hotter against yours now that there was no fabric separating your torsos. You reciprocated along his collarbones the purples he'd painted on your neck, all while the boy's hands ventured lower on your body.

•

"No, sorry," you turn away, swallowing harshly. You shift your eyes to stare at the Netflix home page that's been on your laptop screen for who knows how long now, the movie long since finished, dirty dishes in disarray atop the stout wooden table. They give you the very excuse you need to remove yourself from Vernon's presence temporarily, stacking them before making your way to your small kitchen. Setting the bowls down in the sink, you let warm water run over them while you stand with your arms crossed over your chest, staring aimlessly once again, although this time at nothing in particular.

It's as if Vernon's lips have kissed an imprint in your memory after they roamed all over your body that night.

The dishes flood with steaming water overflowing from their sides. You reach forward to turn off the tap, only for a pair of hands to mirror your movements but on your waist.

"I should get going," his voice is somewhat raspy this close to your ear, clearing his throat afterwards when he pulls back.

Perhaps the squeeze from his grip is only in your imagination. Maybe it's something Vernon does subconsciously, hands trying to replicate what they've once done. Just muscle memory, possibly.

Maybe it's him trying to pass a message through to you—the words you want him to tell you that he hasn't said aloud for who knows what reason.

Or, perhaps, you're incorrectly reading all of this—incorrectly reading him.

You turn. Vernon removes his hold on you.

"Sure," you say, "it's getting late anyway."

You both are well aware that you've stayed up much later before.

Regardless, you follow your friend to your front door, watching him slip on the light jacket he'd brought over. You can recall having another one of his coats buried somewhere in your closet, smelling of smoke and something else that's earthy that you can't completely determine. Maybe it's just the way Vernon smells.

•

They say that certain scents can trigger memories. Sometimes, you wish you could forget one memory in particular along with all of its smells associated with it: the staleness from the used bong discarded on the floor of the front passenger seat, the beginnings of rain after cracking open a window slightly to let out some of the hot air, the sweat from your bodies intertwined in desire, the pine, musk, and green apple car freshener from that same dollar store trip where he'd bought the lighter.

Your forehead pressed against Vernon's as the two of you steadied your breathing. You still sat atop the boy, although pressing more of your weight against him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing your cheek down to rest on his shoulder. You were sure that you'd hugged Vernon before, but why did this feel different? Other than the fact that you were both nude—having crossed the invisible line of friends to something else that you weren't too sure what to label—now couldn't have been the first time you'd been this close to the boy.

"Hey, Vern," you mumbled into the crook of the boy's neck, earning you a peck atop the side of your head; the corners of your lips uncontrollably lifted. But the words that left your mouth—“What now?”—made your smile fade much too quickly.

“What now?” Vernon repeated as if asking himself. His thumb instinctively rubbed back and forth onto the small of your back, "What now."

You waited and waited for him to say something, but Vernon only continued to hold you close against him—you wanted to believe that it was his way of telling you that he didn't regret it either, that he knew exactly how you felt about him and that he felt the same way.

But despite knowing Vernon for many years, it was still a pain in the ass to read how he felt inside.

You closed your eyes after watching the raindrops bead down the car's window, slowly and surely becoming more clear-minded as time ticked on with the rhythm of Vernon's thumb smoothing against your skin. One of your hands rested between your bodies and on top of your thigh, intertwined with the boy's hand in a delicate hold—a contrast to how he'd been handling you only moments ago—as if you were suddenly too fragile to be held any tighter by him.

•

You grab onto the boy's wrist before his hand even reaches the door handle.

"Hey," you say as an attempt to create more time before you let your remaining words fall, the ones housing your true wish—“would you like to spend the night tonight instead?”

Vernon's other hand drops back to his side, giving up on going to the doorknob and instead putting it onto your arm where you're connected to him.

Your eyes immediately fall to where Vernon's hand rests on you. He's warm, although not as warm as the last time he held your hand. You muster up enough courage to lift your gaze, meeting Vernon's eyes, dark in the minimal lighting flooding from your kitchen.

Although you still can't easily read him, the way he pulls you towards his torso speaks louder than the mere “Okay” that slips from his mouth.

You feel him press a kiss onto your temple. You squeeze your arms tighter around him.

Breathing in, Vernon, you realize, smells familiar—that's the best way to describe it. It's subtle enough, almost as if you've become so accustomed to his presence that he no longer has a defining scent. There's still a hint of smoke—it's tough to get rid of entirely—along with whatever that earthiness is that's stuck in your mind. But above it all, Vernon smells like the rain. The rain that showered over you both when you exited his car that night, hands still intertwined when he walked you up the stairs, up to your apartment door. The rain that had kissed your cheeks before Vernon did upon wishing you a goodnight; the rain that you continued to watch from your bed when you were momentarily too giddy to go to sleep immediately. It was the last thought in your mind that night, the rain (well, that and Vernon), before you drifted off into a heavy slumber.

Tonight, though, you lie next to the boy, and—while you think you'd be too cheery to relax—you're nothing short of content when you're able to curl up into his side. His hand finds yours, now resting atop his stomach.

You put on some mellow music to have in the background—it's not Phoebe Bridgers, it's not anything meaningful to either of you, but maybe it will be one day.

There's something simplistically domestic about the way your legs are bunched together, how Vernon's arm wraps around your back where his hand reaches the side of your torso. Your breaths mirror one another, slowly, minds becoming hazy not because of a substance but because of the sleep you're lulling into with the help of each other's warmth.

Maybe you skipped a step in the process—perhaps it wasn't that integral after all—but for once, you're positive that you're reading Vernon correctly; he wouldn't agree to spend the night, and certainly not to stay in your bed, if he didn't have an ounce of affection towards you.

The album playing from your phone finishes, allowing the sounds of the muffled midnight traffic to fill the room rather than dead silence.

Vernon's hand lifts to your head, trailing his fingers to tuck some hair behind your ear. "Now—now we sleep," his voice is raspy with tiredness, but you find it all the more endearing as you're the only one to hear him in this state.

It's a continuation of the question you'd asked him in his car that night, now answered and postponing the spilling of your heart until the rising of the sun another day.

Not that you're in a rush to do it—frankly, you're wholly content so long as you're resting in Vernon's arms, such as you find yourself to be now.

••

195 notes · View notes

hils79 · 2 years

Text

Welcome

I’m Hils. I’m British, I’m ace, I’ve been part of online fandom since the 90s.

My fic can be found on AO3 and more recently linked on Tumblr under the My Fic tag.

I post weekly fic recs on a Monday which can be found on the Fic Recs tag.

I occasionally make gifs which can be found on the My Gifs tag.

You can also find me on Bluesky.

My TV/Drama liveblogs can be found on the Hils Watches tag. If you’re interested in a specific country’s dramas or just a specific drama here’s a breakdown of what I’ve liveblogged so far:

South Korea - Hils Watches Kdramas - Hils Watches Tale of the Nine-Tailed 1938 - Hils Watches Love Tractor - Hils Watches Goblin - Hils Watches Strong Woman Do Bong Soon - Hils Watches Taxi Driver

China - Hils Watches Cdramas - Hils Watches The King’s Avatar - Hils Watches Mysterious Lotus Casebook - Hils Watches Cross Fire - Hils Watches Fairyland Lovers - Hils Watches Love Me, Love My Voice - Hils Watches In Blossom

Thailand - Hils Watches Tdramas - Hils Watches My School President - Hils Watches Moonlight Chicken - Hils Watches He's Coming to Me - Hils Watches Enchanté - Hils Watches Cooking Crush - Hils watches Only Friends

Taiwan - Hils Watches Twdramas - Hils Watches Oh No! Here Comes Trouble - Hils Watches Stay By My Side - Hils Watches Kiseki: Dear to Me

Movies - Hils Watches Movies - Hils Watches Conjuring Curse - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Hils Watches Misty Creed - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

#about me #my fic #fic recs #hils watches

31 notes · View notes

canmom · 3 years

Text

Toku-adjacent Tuesday 21: Bong Joon-Ho

안녕 친구들! Tonight we’re going to South Korea! or more specifically, we’re going to be checking out some films by a well known South Korean director, Bong Joon-Ho (봉준호).

The impetus for this is mostly that although Joon-Ho’s a very well respected director all around the world (with Parasite causing enough of an impact that the rich people it targets started feeling the need to praise it ironically), and many people have recced The Host to me, I have yet to see his films outside of Snowpiercer! So this one’s being really an excuse to give myself an overdue education in Korean films, because the ones I’ve seen have been p amazing.

(The first one I saw was Oldboy dir. Park Chan-Wook at university - it left a hell of an impact though honestly I wasn’t yet in a place to really appreciate it. It may be ironic given the recent commitment to being a kind of overt guro girl but it took me a long time to appreciate gore and transgressive content like that in movies - today it probably wouldn’t even seem that big a deal when the guy eats an octopus and is tricked into fucking his sister but back then it was like whoah they make movies like this!? Years later, I watched Snowpiercer - which I could appreciate was an excellent and intense movie, but my critical faculties were so undeveloped that I had to have ‘the train is capitalism’ pointed out to me. And some years after that I watched The Handmaiden, also dir. Chan-Wook, with a really sexually pushy trans girl who was honestly much more interested in getting me to suck her off, and who I later fell out with me after I refused to take her islamophobic rant. Not quite the ideal viewing circumstances in any of these cases! Now I’ve gotten way more into film in general, so I’m looking forward to finding out what I’ve been missing all these years.)

Later we did an Animation Night on Korean animation! The list was sadly pretty sparse compared to say France/Japan, since the Korean animation industry largely exists to provide cheap services for overseas studios, which is pretty much the basis of ‘American’ animation today. But there were some very beautiful interesting entries like Sky Blue/Wonderful Days, notable as the starting point of the animators who would go on to give AtlA/Korra such life, and the Ghibliesque Yobi the Five-Tailed Fox. There is another side of Korean animation more akin to live-action film which gave us projects like The Preacher or zombie movie Seoul Station, which we might yet cover another time.

youtube

Anyway, tonight the focus is specifically on Bong Joon-Ho.

A brief background: Joon-Ho grew up during the days of the American-backed military dictatorship in South Korea, and as a student (of sociology) participated in the 1987 popular movement that overthrew it in favour of liberal democracy. (The Americans really don’t like to talk about that period of South Korean history since it doesn’t really fit their preferred narrative of ‘crazy cultist north, enlightened americanised south’...) In the early 90s, he did his compulsory military service and then returned to education, and started experimenting with film:

Bong later co-founded a film club named "Yellow Door" with students from neighboring universities.[10] As a member of the club, Bong made his first films, including a stop motion short titled Looking for Paradise and 16 mm film short titled Baeksaekin (White Man).[10] He graduated from Yonsei University in 1995.[10]

Following this, he went to film school and started submitting his films to film festivals. After graduating, he spent the late 90s in various miserable low-paid positions at the bottom of the film industry.

He began directing his own film in the 2000s, starting with Barking Dogs Never Bite (2000), a dark comedy about a man who tortures dogs. This gradually became popular on the film festival circuit, with word of mouth spreading about this cool new Korean director; the same applied to his next film, a serial killer horror Memories of Murder (2003), scaling up production and finding a warm reception at film festivals.

His first really big film was The Host (2006), which takes us to perhaps somewhat familiar territory of Toku Tuesday - a monster disaster movie, which has been described to me as putting the lie to all the ‘rules’ of how horror is supposed to be shot (e.g. that you shouldn’t show the monster too much), and was a huge success both in Korea and at film festivals. It’s as much about geopolitics as the monster, especially the ongoing American military occupation of Korea (who rush to quarantine people who made contact with the monster to hide their responsibility) - much like in southern Japan, but even more so given the sabre-rattling with the North, being a client country for American military bases is not fun for the, well, host population (¬¬).

youtube

The next few years, he appeared in various short film anthologies such as Tokyo! (2008) in which he directed a short about a hikikomori and 3.11 A Sense of Home (2011) in the aftermath of the March 11 earthquake that hit Japan. He also directed a fourth feature film, Mother (2009), portraying “a doting mother who struggles to save her disabled son from a murder accusation”.

The next major development came in 2013 with the American co-production Snowpiercer, adapting a French band dessinée Le Transperceneige (1982) by Jacques Lob and Jean-Marc Rochette. It portrays a micro-society on a globe-circling train in the aftermath of a climate apocalypse (terribly French huh) and a revolution led by the underclass at the back of the train. I can actually talk a bit more about this one since I’ve seen it! Alongside its beautifully stylised axe violence, the movie is quite in your face with its metaphors: the underclass brutally tortured and forced to eat bugs, the childrens’ bodies replacing parts of the machine, the concept of a periodic revolution as a population cull; it also makes a strong case that, even though this train is believed to be the only thing keeping people alive, the right thing to do is to stop it and leave for the barely glimpsed possibility of life outside the train.

Which if you’re sensing a theme... yeah this guy’s movies are 1. violent and 2. very overtly political, which seems to be the case for a lot of Korean films. His next film, Okja (2017), continued the trend with a girl trying to get back her pet genetically modified ‘super pig’ from the meat industry; but his biggest success came just two years ago...

youtube

Parasite! It won a ton of awards including like four oscars, it was all over the news for a while, rich people had to pretend they liked it even though they are fully its targets, and somehow I never saw it at the time RIP. Well tonight we remedy that... I have avoided reading too much about this film because I would like to be surprised by its various turns.

Watching these trailers I’m constantly struck by how clearly lit and well shot Joon-Ho’s films are, which I guess is in part like, being a major director in the HD era, but damn they do look very nice in fact. Perhaps we can credit some of that to inspiration from Del Toro; he also cites Nagisa Ōshima, whose work I admit I’m not at all familiar with but at least going off that article definitely seems to share a thematic interest in making deliberately challenging, political films about social conflict, xenophobia etc.

The actors who work with him describe him as a very precise and confident filmmaker, knowing exactly what he wants to use in the edit, adjusting the camera between cuts, and shooting very little extra footage; conversely he is described as less strict as an acting director, preferring to let the actors apply their own expertise. But at this point I’m just copying interesting things I saw on Wikipedia so let’s leave it lol.

I am increasingly thinking when I do these writeups that I’m sort of automatically falling into a kind of auteur theory which attributes just about all the good and bad qualities of film to its director, unless I happen to have an anecdote to say otherwise. This is I suppose in part deliberately shaped by the film industry - a director’s name is a marketing tool after all - and it’s a helpful scaffolding for learning about the people who make this art I consume, but it’s not really how I believe films (inherently group projects) work. There’s a kind of cultish attitude to ‘big name’ directors which obviously allows all kinds of abuses to take place, they become like... unapproachable symbols rather than merely people like us who ended up in a place to control the whole filmmaking machinery.

But I’m not sure how to address this problem without setting myself a great deal more homework I don’t have time to do. Still filmmaking has fully become a special interest, and I really need to start digging into film theory to find out the other models people have come up with to process these weird, massively labour intensive social artefacts. (I kind of wonder what people would do if we had to come up with an all new categorisation of films without knowing anything about the directors, genres, studios etc. behind them.)

So like the Korean film industry is known for its hard-hitting, violent, socially conscious movies; how much is that associated with one or two guys like Joon-Ho who happened to get big at the right time, and how much can be attributed to whatever sort of social factors, etc. etc.? Probably unanswerable, you might as well ask why anime happened in Japan (i.e. why animation attained its unusual cultural place there) and not somewhere else, it’s something you can argue about til the end of days.

Anyway, Joon-Ho’s directed enough films all around the two hour mark that we’ll definitely need multiple nights to cover them all, so tonight I’m going to pick out The Host and Parasite and see if I can dig up a few of his short films; next time we come round to him, I’m looking forward to going back to the older ones on the list. If that sounds fun, please join me at twitch.tv/canmom in two and a half hours at 7pm UK time! In the meantime I will be drawing some animation frames so feel free to drop by~

Also if anyone has an idea for a new name for this film night I’m all ears! I don’t want to restrict myself to special effects movies, so even if we argue that there can be non-Japanese toku films, there’s stuff that isn’t under that umbrella I’d like to cover. So it’s gonna be something like ‘international live-action film Tuesday’, but that’s not as pithy as Animation Night!

#toku tuesday

16 notes · View notes

dothwrites · 4 years

Note

worried Dean @ Cas: “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

---

It’s a widely accepted tenet in the art department that Castiel Novak is a genius.

Dean first hears rumors of Novak’s skills when he’s a freshman. He doesn’t believe them at first. He suspects they’re overblown by groupies who are too interested in trying to get into Novak’s pants (not that Dean can blame them: with his shock of dark hair, ice-blue eyes, and delicate scrollwork of tattoos spiraling up his arms to disappear under the sleeves of his very tight t-shirts, Novak is a walking wet dream). Then, at the end of his freshman year, he’s busy setting up the annual art show when a piece catches his attention.

At first glance, the painting is deceptively simple. A shadowed figure stands in the center of the canvas, his arms raised up to the sky. Around him are swirls of red, black, and gold, somehow blending into one color in the background. The more Dean looks, the more ambiguity he finds in the painting. Are the swirls of gold lifting the figure up or restraining him? Is the figure fading into the black or breaking free? Is the red coming from him or is he drawing it in? Are his hands raised in supplication or defiance?

Dean loses track of how many minutes he spends staring at the painting, admiring the shading, the color, the symbolism. Transfixed, he reaches out to touch at the rough surface of the painting before he recalls himself and snaps his hand back to his side.

“You can touch it if you want.”

Dean whirls around at the deep voice, his eyes widening when he sees Castiel Novak standing behind him, hands tucked deep into his pockets. Castiel raises a pierced eyebrow at him.

“Seriously. Go ahead.”

Dean shakes his head, aware of Castiel’s reputation. “I can’t...we’re not allowed to disturb the artwork--”

Castiel’s mouth twists and Dean doesn’t know whether he’s angry or deprecatory. “Well, I’m the artist, and I say you can.”

Castiel’s eyes rest heavily on him. Dean swallows, his heart picking up a rhythm that seems attached to the flick of Castiel’s tongue over his lower lip. Hand shaking, he reaches out to brush his fingers over the textured canvas.

“It’s rough,” Castiel says from right behind him (when the hell did he get that close?), “because becoming is always rough.”

And that’s how Dean Winchester decided Castiel Novak was a genius.

---

As school and life continues, Dean admires Castiel Novak from afar.

From what he can tell, Castiel doesn’t have many friends. He has admirers, which he ignores, and he has a few people who hang onto his fame, which he disdains, but actual friends? The only thing keeping Dean from volunteering is the thought that Castiel will turn the same withering look on him.

Castiel haunts the art building and, as Dean continues delving into the Art program at Carver Edlund University, he does the same. Sometimes he’ll pass Castiel on his way to his studio. Castiel always nods at him, but it’s a companionable gesture, the same that you might give to someone at the grocery store. He never stops to chat, doesn’t even remove his earbuds.

And that’s fine. So Dean’s harboring a crush that’s as much intellectual as it is physical. Plenty of people have crushes. It’s fine. It’s not like he’s obsessed. Not like he lurks around just so he can leave at the same time Castiel does. Not like he skulks through the dark halls so he can get a look at Castiel’s new project. That would make him creepy and pathetic, and those are two adjectives which certainly don’t describe Dean Winchester.

After a while, denial doesn’t even taste bad, just a little bitter.

By the end of his sophomore year, Dean’s accustomed to the status quo. He notices the light in the private studio allotted to Castiel (all senior Art majors get their own studios, but Castiel got the nicest of them), but he doesn’t stop on his way to his own (shared) studio. When he arrives, however, he screeches to a halt.

His studio is filled to the brim with snotty freshmen. His personal workplace has been completely commandeered by a freshman with a (barf) man bun. “What the hell?” Dean sputters. He can feel his face turning red with rage. “This is my time.”

Man-Bun pops his gum as he looks at Dean. His eyes are so hazy Dean’s surprised that he’s not deep-throating a bong at that very moment. “Um, guess again? We totally booked the studio for tonight?”

Seething, Dean storms to the schedule and checks. Sure enough, there’s a long list of names on the door for the studio space. “I always have Thursday,” he protests, but it’s an empty sort of rage. “I’m always here for Thursdays.”

Man-Bun shrugs, turning back to his psychedelic smattering of colors. “Not this Thursday, dude.”

Dismissed, Dean gathers his remaining dignity, and leaves. Standing out in the hallway, he reviews his options. He’s kicked out of his regular studio, and he needs to work tonight, otherwise he’ll never get his final project for figure drawing done. Every studio he passes is booked to capacity; clearly the art program is full of procrastinators. In fact, the only studio that has any sort of room...

“No. No. Shit.” Dean weighs the consequences of failing his class versus metaphorically throwing himself into a volcano. Finally, his fear of failure takes over, and he knocks on the door of his last remaining option.

The door swings open, revealing a Castiel who looks significantly more disheveled than normal (though normal Castiel usually looks like he was rode hard and put away wet). A smear of blue paint decorates one cheek while his earbuds dangle from his neck. Dean tries to ignore the spirals of Castiel’s tattoos, especially where they disappear under his shirt (he especially tries to ignore the thoughts of what those tattoos look like underneath Castiel’s shirt). Castiel blinks in surprise.

“Dean. What are you doing here?”

(The fact that Castiel knows Dean’s name comes as a shock. Dean assumed that he was one of the thousands of nameless faces Castiel passes every day.)

“Um, first let me say, it’s totally awesome if you say no, I don’t expect you to say yes, it’s a huge imposition--”

“Dean, you’re rambling.”

“Can i use your studio? Or share it? I wouldn’t ask, but a bunch of douchebags took mine and there are no other spaces open, and I really need to finish this project--”

“Sure. Come on.”

And with that, Castiel steps back and beckons Dean into his studio.

Dean crosses the threshold with something resembling awe. He never imagined, in his wildest dreams, that he would be allowed into Castiel’s inner sanctum. He tries not to gape too obviously as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the room. It looks...like a studio for the most part. Several canvases are hung around the room; if they’re discarded attempts or inspiration, Dean doesn’t know. They could easily function as either. Castiel finally steps in front of him, directing Dean’s attention to one corner of the room.

“Would there be good?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, that’s good.” He pauses, eyes darting nervously around the studio. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Castiel frowns, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “No, of course not. If you were, I wouldn’t have opened up the door.” With that, he seems to consider the topic of conversation closed, and retreats back a few steps.

He sets up his work and tries to ignore the fact that Castiel Novak is watching him. It’s almost impossible not to feel his eyes; the skin on the back of Dean’s neck prickles in awareness, but he perseveres.

He sets his sketch on the easel before casting a critical eye upon it. He frowns as he notices every imperfection. it’s based off a series of sketches he jotted down in class earlier that day. Dean remembers the careless grace of the model, the way that the fabric had draped artlessly over his waist and shoulders, but he can’t recapture the specific atmosphere of the room, which was what made that particular model striking. Every time he tries to put onto the paper how the room felt, his figures end up wooden and two-dimensional.

“You’re paying too much attention to the form.”

Dean jumps, his charcoal pencil scrawling an ungainly line across the page. Not a huge loss, he was already going to toss this one anyway. He turns around to find Castiel standing directly behind him.

Castiel nods towards his sketchpad. “In your drawings. You’re paying too much attention to the form. That’s why it’s coming out wrong.”

“The form is all there is,” Dean replies, a little peevishly. He knows the sketch sucks, but that doesn’t mean he wants Castiel freaking Novak pointing it out to him.

“The form is one part. But you have the lighting and shading and you have the intention. The intention is...the feel of the room. It’s what remains unsaid and unseen to those who weren’t there. It’s what you’re trying to capture by paying so much attention to the form. Of course, by concentrating too much on the technical, you lose the abstract.”

Castiel flicks over to a new page with a deft flick of his wrist. He plucks the pencil from Dean’s grasp with one hand. With the other, he poses Dean’s hand close to his face. Castiel stares at Dean for a few excruciating seconds before he turns his attention to the empty page.

Dean hardly dares to breathe as Castiel sketches. He’s not sure how he’s going to return to real life, knowing now the tiny crease that knits between Castiel’s brows or how the tip of Castiel’s tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth. How is he supposed to live, knowing Castiel hums tunelessly as his hand works?

“There.” Castiel flips the sketch to face Dean. In it, Dean finds his own face, rendered in a few lines. It’s rough, certainly, but it’s a close enough likeness. More than that, Castiel’s managed to capture...

“Do I look that scared?” Dean blurts out, before he can stop himself.

Castiel actually laughs, deep and rumbling, from the diaphragm. It’s a lovely sound, one that fills the studio, and one Dean would gladly hear again and again. “You don’t look scared.” He sets the pencil down on the easel and turns fully to face Dean. “Anxious maybe. Hovering on the edge of anticipation.” He steps closer. His chest almost brushes Dean’s, which could be misinterpreted as Castiel not understanding the concept of personal space.

What can’t be misinterpreted is the unsubtle drop of Castiel’s eyes to Dean’s lips.

“I guess now would be a good time to tell you that I’ve really wanted to kiss you for almost a year,” Castiel says, his voice scraped rough around the edges. His eyes drag up to Dean’s, and Dean’s taken aback at the wild glint in them. Castiel steps closer and his clever fingers slip into the spaces between Dean’s fingers. “Please Dean,” Castiel breathes, raw and needy, “please, can I kiss you?”

“Fuck yes,” Dean murmurs, which is all he gets to say before Castiel’s hand cups the back of his head and his lips descend upon Dean’s.

Not that Dean’s bragging, but he’s had quite a few good kisses in his life (and been told that he gives quite a few good kisses). Castiel blows them all out of the water. Dean’s never been kissed so thoroughly before, like Castiel wants to own him, like Castiel’s interested in finding exactly what makes Dean tick. His teeth nip at the swell of Dean’s lower lip while his tongue delicately traces the seam of Dean’s lips. Dean eagerly opens his mouth, moaning into Castiel’s mouth as Castiel’s tongue slips in along his.

Hours or days later, when they part, Dean realizes that while one of his hands is cupping the spur of Castiel’s hip (holy fuck, those hips feel like handles for his hands), his other hand is still holding Castiel’s. It’s certainly the sweetest kiss that’s ever given him a boner.

Castiel laughs, a little breathless. It’s only then Dean realizes he’s a little taller than Castiel. “You do live up to expectations,” he murmurs, and Dean’s not sure whether Castiel’s talking to himself or not.

The words spark a recent memory in Dean, and suddenly nothing is more important than finding out the truth. “You said you wanted to do that for a year?” Castiel nods, his eyes suddenly shifting to the side. “Why?”

“Everyone always goes on about my art. How groundbreaking it is, how I’m a ‘once in a generation talent’.” Castiel uses finger-quotes, which should not be as endearing as Dean finds it. “And it’s nice, but none of them even bother to see my art for what it is. They just see my name attached to it and they lose their shit. But last year...You saw that painting. It didn’t matter to you who made it. You saw it and appreciated it for what it was. And I...I saw you.”

Castiel swallows. For all his suave confidence earlier, he looks oddly vulnerable now. “So, anyway. Yeah. For a year now. Um...” He glances at Dean’s easel. “I guess I’ll leave you alone now. Or if you want privacy, I can go.”

“Or,” Dean says, the pink flush on Castiel’s cheeks giving him all the bravery he’ll ever need. “You could stay.” Castiel’s eyes slice to him, their blue intense and jaw-dropping. Dean grins, a little predatory, like they’re on even ground.

“After all, I’m going to need a model for this sketch.”

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #dean winchester #castiel #college au #art school au #artist!cas #artist!dean #nervous!dean #meet cute #dothwrites

946 notes · View notes

g0ldengubler · 4 years

Text

chapter 7~instant crush

A/N: aaaaaa this chapter is so/so???? i guess it gets better at the end??? idk, i’m starting to get back into that “i’m not a good writer” mindset that i was in at the beginning of nauseous. i’m hoping to start writing another chapter super soon! i’m just stuck in rut and it’s showing in the chapters. i’ll work harder to make them better, but no promises. also listen to the song that the chapter was named after here. it’s literally one of my all time favorite songs on the planet lol. ok, i apologize in advance but i hope u still enjoy :)

Category: fluff

CW: smoking weed, mentions of toys and smoking tools and pieces

Word Count: 2680

before you read | last chapter | next chapter

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

After what felt like days, you and Spencer had finally made it to your father's cabin. You hadn't been up north in years, all because you were so focused on getting your dream job. Driving down a dirt road, the smell of the trees mixed with rain had you feeling nostalgic, triggering memories of when you were a little girl, reading Charles Dickens under a tree or on the rocky shores of the lake. You couldn't wait to share these new memories here with him.

When you arrived in Michigan, you made sure you got all of your favorite goodies like Better Maid potato chips, Faygo's Rock'n'Rye, Vernors ginger ale, Superman ice cream, and you even made Spencer stop at your favorite pizza place, Buddy's, so you could get your favorite salad and a cheese pizza with light sauce and a crispy crust. He chuckled at how plain you like your pizza, but it was something you and your grandmother shared a loved for. You wanted Spencer to have as close to the Michigan experience he could because while you weren't in love with your home state, the small things you grew up with gave you joy.

The last errand you made before moving up north was to a dispo in Ann Arbor. Spencer couldn't go in with you, so you left him in the car (even though you wanted him to come in with you, he didn't have his card so it wouldn't work). Walking in, you showed the security guard your med card and continued your way through the store. Jars of bud covered the shelves on the wall. Glass showcases were filled with wax. Each strain (no matter what form) had labels in front of them, giving information about it and what it could do to help with any specific problem like joint pains or body spasms. You never really had a preference on what strain was best, nor got too picky if it was an indica, sativa, or hybrid.

You talked with a staff member and asked what they suggested. You ended up getting some Cherry Pie flower, joint papers, hemp blunt wraps, and a mini bbq lighter. Once you grabbed the goods, you headed out to suddenly notice a store that was at the outdoor mall next door. A smile grew on your face as you ran back to the car, set your bag down behind your seat, and grabbing Spencer by his hand and pulled him with you to the mall.

"Silly girl, I thought we were done with the errands?" He asked.

"One more stop," you said eagerly, "I promise. Plus, I think you'll get a little kick out of it."

A small building appeared as you made him stop in front of it. You saw him look up at the sign, looking a little confused. "There's a store with the same name as me?"

"Wait till you get inside." You giggled.

Those who weren't familiar with the store would think it was an edgier Hot Topic, but once you showed him what was in the back of Spencer's, you saw his jaw drop and couldn't hold in the laugh that was brewing in your throat. "Told you you'd get a little kick out of it."

"Well I thought you meant because of the fact it's called Spencer's, not because of all the...toys...they have."

"Are you getting ideas, Doctor?"

He straightened himself out and fixed his sweater. "I cannot confirm, nor deny your question."

"Dr.Spencer Reid," you giggled, slapping his arm softly, "naughty boy."

"Are you getting idea's, Agent L/N?"

You were quiet for a moment. "...maybe." you mumbled.

Spencer just laughs at the little banter you just had. "Let's save it for when we're home. It'll give me time to really think about it."

As you're left there speechless, your clouded mind is interrupted by the look on his face as he looks at the dick shaped candy they had.

"Ok, ok," you giggled, "let me go find what I'm looking for and then my errands are done. I'm ready to just sit back on the couch, put a fire on, and relax."

From there you went to the middle of the store, where you grabbed a green rolling tray with a panda on his back smoking a joint, a hot pink grinder, and a game controller ashtray before going up to the cashier to pay. You then headed back to the car and headed off to the cabin.

The cabin hadn't changed a bit, with its Christmas lights still hung and the skeleton that was sitting on the porch chair. You thought maybe your dad did all this while you two were on your way, but whatever the reason, you could tell that Spencer was already in love with it once he saw the skeleton. You forgot how big the cabin was. It wasn't small like a fairy's cottage, but you could say it was smaller than Rossi's mansion.

The smell of pine needles and fire smoke filled your head with nostalgia as you entered. You dropped your bags and plopped on the couch. You felt at home, and with Spencer, the feeling was stronger than you could've ever felt. You let out a big sigh, smiling as you hold one of the couch pillows to your chest.

"If your father built this cabin, he's the genius not me." Spencer joked as he moved your legs over so he could sit down next to you. He let your legs rest on his lap, rubbing your legs awkwardly, giving you that awkward white guy smile.

"How about you put the bags in the bedroom and then we'll go exploring," you said as you adjusted your position, using the armrest as support, "I haven't been here in years and I'm feeling very nostalgic."

"Sounds like a plan!...um..." Spencer looks around the living room, trying to find the bedroom.

"Oh, sorry! It's straight down that hall on your left." You pointed over to the hallway next to him. Once he saw the open doors to the bedroom he grabbed your bags and sat them down. You got up as he walked to the room and started exploring. You started in the kitchen, looking back on the times you'd bake the most gooey chocolate chip cookies as your dad cooked the family stew. Your father always had a hobby for making food, didn't matter if it was a meaty dish or a beautiful dessert. You thought nothing could beat your father's cooking, and that became especially true when you went to college.

As you were walking to the hall, you noticed Spencer admire the artwork that was hanging on the walls. "Did you know that the first log cabins that were built in America were emigrants from Sweden and Finland?" He asked. "They had been building them for 1,000 years, prior to coming here."

"That's very interesting," you said loudly as I walked to my old room, "I didn't know that." Something you always loved was to listen to people talk. Spencer was known for rambling about something when he should've been keeping it case related. He'd start off with giving them what they wanted to know, but then get so excited that he kept going on. It was something you did, too, but only around those you were comfortable around and that was very rare.

As he continued to ramble facts about the paintings, you looked around the familiar room that felt a bit distant. Your dad had turned your old room into an office. All the bright lilac walls had turned to gray, and your bed with a matching white desk were replaced with a black leather couch and a black, very sophisticated desk. Pictures of the two of you mixed with Red Wing merchandise hung on the walls and sat at his desk.

"Uuuuhh, Y/N?" Spencer called, "you might want to see this!

With a confused look on your face, you walked out of the office and back out to the living room where you see him hold a ziplock bag. Inside was a small stash of something similar that you bought that day.

"Where did you find all that weed?" you asked.

"I was looking at the books on this bookcase and as I took one out to explore further, this fell out with it."

You start exploring on your own. It had to be here. It'd make complete sense.

"What are you looking for?"

You ignore him for a moment before finding it. That son of a bitch.

You show Spencer the glass piece you found, the light in the room making its blue accent glow.

"Is that a erlenmeyer flask?" He asked, looking puzzled.

You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "You're cute," you said, "but no, it's a bong! My dad's a sneaker bastard. I never knew he smoked-" you stopped in your tracks for a moment, thinking. "...I don't know how I feel about that information."

Spencer chuckles as you go through your mini life crisis. You notice his eyes then move in different directions. It took you a minute to realize what he was looking at. He would look at you, then look at the bong, then at the bag of weed, and continue the cycle. A grin fell upon your face, making Spencer grin a evil, yet goofy smile.

"Let's get comfortable first," you propose, "I'll heat up our pizza's and grab the salads, you grab the rock'n'rye and then we'll get to smokiiin."

Without a second thought, the two of you rushed to get into pajamas. You both had decided that Christmas pajamas was the way to go with how cold it was going to be. Coming out of the bedroom as Spencer came out of the bathroom, you both laugh at the fact that you pretty much had the same theme going. While Spencer was wearing a red long sleeve with the vintage coke'a'cola Santa Clause, you wore a white fitted shirt with the coke's'cola polar bears on it. Your pants were pretty much the same red and black checkered flannels, but while Spencer wore just regular slippers, you had on Rudolph the red nose reindeer fuzzy socks.

After heating up the pizza and pouring the drinks, your grab your food and went for the couch. You sat it on the coffee table in front of you before grabbing the bong, along with the bag and your grinder. As you began to grind the flower, you looked over to Spencer, who seemed to be really loving the pop through the nervousness on his face.

"Are you sure you want to try smoking out of a bong, Spence?" you asked, "Because you don't have to if you're too nervous."

"No no, I do want to! I'm just getting excited that's all."

"You're ok with your mouth being on the same place mine has?"

He was quiet for a moment. "No spit will be on this," you explain, taking the look on his face as a maybe, "but we have our napkins if you want to wipe."

"Ok, good!" He sighed out of relief.

Once the bud was grounded, you took some out with your fingers and packed it in the bowl, rubbing your fingers together to get some of the sticky stuff off. You then put on some music from you groovy playlist on your phone, connecting it to the bluetooth speakers that surrounded the room.

As you put your mouth on the top, lighting the bowl, you move the flame over half of it, letting Spencer have the other half. You felt eyes burning on you as you took the bowl out and inhaled. You held the smoke in your lungs for a few moments before a cloud formed in front of your face.

You handed the bong and lighter to Spencer, showing him what to do. You reminded him to inhale as he held the flame to the bowl. You watch as he did exactly what you did, copying your movements from memory. When he exhaled, the cloud of smoke was a bit bigger than yours was, you were shocked that he didn't have a coughing fit afterward.

He sat it down on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, letting the sensations take over his body. You grabbed the bong again and took another hit, handing it to Spencer afterward. He surprisingly took it from your hands and took another rip. You ended up doing this a few more times until your grinder was empty. You took the last bong rip, setting it back down and slouched on the couch.

By this time, the munchies had kicked in. You both devoured your dinner in a matter of minutes. But the tingles slowly left your body once you finished, so you grabbed the bong and your grinder again. This time, you took the bottom part off, looking at the leftover bits of the bud that turned into almost a powder form. You then grabbed your bag from the dispo that was sitting on the table next to you, and grabbed the flower you had bought. You took the cherry pie bud out of its container and ground it up.

You looked over to Spencer, who was just feeling the music. He looked very much relaxed, staring at the ceiling fan that hung above them.

After taking a huge rip from the bong, you coughed out a bit as you sat it back down. Without even realizing, you sneaked your way under his arm, laying your head on his chest. He put his arms around you, letting you snuggle into him.

With the light of the moon now being your only source of light, and the song Instant Crush playing in the background, you felt safe in his arms. Nothing could've ruined this moment. All you wanted was him and him alone.

"You're like a beautiful dragon, Y/N." You heard Spencer say.

You look up at him with a confused look on your face. "What do you mean by that?"

"When you exhaled. When I exhaled, even. We were like dragons blowing fire. It was so cool."

He was definitely gone, it was pretty obvious. But hearing him babble on and on about being dragons made you smile and giggle. It was contagious, making Spencer giggle with you, and then you couldn't stop. Your stomach and cheeks were hurting at this point.

Once the giggling calmed down, you looked up at him, as he looked down at you. Without a thought in mind, you both leaned and kissed. Your lips hovered over the other for a moment, before leaning back in, your lips melting together as your tongues attacked the other. His right hand in your hair, and his left cupping the side of your face.

After a minute, Spencer broke away and spoke. "I don't care what we are right now," he said, "we can talk about that another time. Right now, I just want you."

You smiled and went back in. He smiled through the kiss, letting tongue go back to where it belonged.

And there you stayed, kissing here and there, taking a few more hits before you both passed out on the couch, your arms still around the other.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid fluff #mgg fluff #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fic

69 notes · View notes

liesfallaciesfabrications · 3 years

Text

Mr. Queen Analysis

My take on the rather heartbreaking and vague ending of the KDrama, Mr. Queen.

Okay, I’ve been thinking long and hard on this subject (way too much) and have come to the following consensus:

Bong-Hwan and So Yong are both versions of the same soul. What got me thinking about this was that scene in episode 5 where SoBong talks about original and past lives but then mentions parallel time-streams. To illustrate, she draws two lines running side by side and explains how a past life can be in one and the original/current being in the other. This had me stumped a bit, and I thought it a bit random that they put that in there, but then I looked up “reincarnation and parallel lives” and there’s a surprising number of articles on it - though obviously not conclusive or scientific as it involves spirituality.

Episode 5 also explains why time in the present is flowing at the same rate as the past, which we discovered when BH’s consciousness briefly reentered his body and explain why they chose to reveal that fact. Time isn’t linear here but more fluid with both versions existing simultaneously - harkening back to the two lines Mr. Queen drew to illustrate.

The reincarnation theory would explain many of the elements of the story that I found hard to accept. For example:

If So Yong’s separate soul was in there with Bong Hwan’s soul then why did he never feel her? In fact, the show repeatedly makes reference to the idea that Bong Hwan does not feel another soul and attributes characteristics of SY to the body (telling her after the kiss that the soul is in control of the body so she ought to behave and in another scene he tries to get her soul to return by addressing the lake - where he believes she is hiding). The only time he accuses her of being a separate entity inside of him is when he wants an excuse for his feelings and reactions to CJ. The “it must have been her that took control. If I knew it was CJ I would have....still enjoyed it?!? What’s wrong with me?” moments. LOL What if the reason he couldn’t feel another presence was because there wasn’t another? He merely had his consciousness wake up in the body of his past life but didn’t realize it.

It would explain the gradual integration of both personalities. For example, when CJ returns the book to Mr. Queen, she never thinks of herself as NOT being the girl from the well as she did when he first confesses his love for her at the lake. As BH spends more time in her previous body, the lines become more blurred not just in memory but also in identity because he IS her. If they were two separate souls, I don’t think she would have that same reaction nor do I see anything to indicate that So Yong “took over” in that moment or any other. Memories were accessed, personality traits were mingling, but we saw SY come out in episode 20...that personality was immediately recognizable. Fantastic acting by SHS - especially as she had me loving the one and hating the other, despite being both.

It would explain why Mr. Queen falls for CJ so hard, despite his initial protests. I never liked the idea of his feelings being manipulated, but I can get on board with the idea that he accepts his feelings for CJ because this is a man that some part of him has always loved - and falls in love with “again” through their shared experiences and journey.

It would also explain the question of why Bong Hwan. What was the connection between this man and So Yong? They are reincarnations of each other. When So Yong was feeling hopeless and needed strength, she pulled upon her stronger version of herself to help her - made possible in that moment when she desperately wanted to give up on life and he desperately wanted to live. She came to him in that pool and appeared to the queen again when she was looking for answers in the lake. This does not give the impression of a soul cruelly imprisoned in her own body against her will.

It would also explain why, when Bong Hwan briefly went back to his body, So Yong did not reappear. She wasn’t being suppressed. She purposefully had her reincarnated self come to give her strength and was not ready at that time to assume her life again. I found her choice of words at Byeong-In’s grave to to be telling. She said he always knew where to find her whenever she was hiding. It’s also why I believe BI didn’t realize Mr. Queen wasn’t SY - for the same reason CJ doesn’t at the end of the drama. These two men, both of whom deeply love her, could sense it was her, just in reverse order. CJ-SB-SY and BI-SY-SB.

It would also solve the pesky issue of why BH is an overall better person - not just at the moment of his return but before. Someone on Reddit mentioned the implausibility of CJ’s political accomplishments causing a ripple effect to change BH, and I agree. However, if we look at BH as SY’s reincarnation, then the positive attributes he now displays in the altered timeline can be accounted for because he prevented his previous incarnation from killing herself, therefore in his next lifetime his soul didn’t carry those grudges. This fits with the idea of reincarnation as a person’s life experiences and emotions/grudges/regrets/mindset at death will determine the psychological and even physical manifestation of their next life.

SY was told by evil Kim that she had no power b/c she was a woman - next life is a man.

SY had her love cruelly rejected - next life is a playboy who doesn’t seem to believe in love.

SY felt that she was living a lie - next life is a man who doesn’t care who he offends with his opinion and does what he wants when he wants - to the point of selfishness - though this changes when he prevents many of these resentments by his actions in the past.

Finally, it would explain why CJ is so “oblivious” at end of the show. He promised when he returned the book to SB that he would never fail to recognize her, and he doesn’t. While her personality has changed, it’s intrinsically also the same person, though this is the area I felt the writers dropped the ball in execution, but I get that they were pressed for time. The implications of this aspect also seem to be what KJH meant in his comment to a fan’s question of whether the king knew that BH had left.That it didn’t matter: SY or BH didn’t matter, only how CJ saw her.

So why send BH back? I believe they did it because it wouldn't make sense for him to live a life he essentially already lived as SY. Reincarnation is meant to be for a soul to grow and spiritually evolve, which it could not do by simply repeating what it had already done. Also, for some reason (I suspect so as not to offend Koreans by skipping over one of the most prominent historical figures in their culture - Queen Min), they still have CJ dying at age 32. This can be seen in the book BH is looking at when he's seeing his portrait, and is mentioned as early as episode 1. This was never going to be a happy ending for CJ/BH in the sense that many viewers wanted. Rather, he was going to facilitate the relationship of SY/CJ so that his previous life could run its course...ugh, I feel sick typing that out...with the hope that they meet again in another lifetime. Our SB is many things but trapped in Joseon without modern medicine, a miracle worker she is not. CJ dies without any heirs; his baby with the queen dies at just six months. If the BH decided to stay for love and then lost the baby and CJ, that would be just as heartbreaking for me as the ending I received.

Wiki and other sources speculate the CJ was poisoned by the Andong Kims, but many historians (including Bong Hwan’s mother, it seems) dispute that fact as it would serve no purpose since he was a puppet king and since his death then allowed the Jo family to briefly take control until King Gojong’s father pretty much crushed both the Kims and the Jos. In reality, he probably died of unhealthy habits and a life of excess. In the show’s world, who knows...cancer or any number of possible illnesses that could not be treated at that time. During the banquet planning, we see CJ suffer a nosebleed. In the spinoff, Mr. Queen mentions how CJ is trying hard not to collapse from the strain of his burdens. These could be hints left by writers to indicate that CJ’s health has been compromised by the grueling struggles and stress he’s had to endure, not to mention allowing himself to get blown up.

They writers did give us the hope for another reunion - perhaps in BH’s lifetime or perhaps another one. It’s why I think they tried to imply a SY/CJ connection in the Bamboo Forest prequel (the only prequel in the spinoff) as well as end Bamboo Forest with a reincarnation wish. The setup seemed quite intentional and in specific order. The prequel created a sense of destiny. The next segment was about Mr. Queen confirming if it was just his body or his soul that was attracted to CJ...literally the words out of the character’s mouth...and they gave an answer to that with the last shot. The final segment introduced the wish for CJ to meet his queen again, and he is clearly thinking of Mr. Queen - so why the prequel, which would seem to introduce a separate love interest, unless it’s actually not because they’re one and the same with the middle segment emphasizing the genuine attraction and love for each other.

This might not be everyone’s cup of tea; it certainly wasn’t mine, and I think the writers should have handled the leaving better instead of going for an quasi mind-wipe of all the characters’ remembrances of Mr. Queen. I mean, CJ went from being horrified at Mr. Queen acting like a perfect little queen for a few seconds a mere handful of episodes ago to just asking "why the formality" at a more permanent display of temperament and seemed practically oblivious otherwise. Then Choi and Yeon were "shocked" when So Yong didn't revert to her witch of the palace act and chastise the maids that were laughing by the pond - as if Mr. Queen didn't already change that way of thinking months ago. Not to mention that they were also nonplussed by the fact that their relationship to the queen had gone from being regarded as family back to a servant/master status quo. Even with the soulmate angle, there was to much deus ex machina thrown in. The idea of soul mates is a romantic one, but the execution of it fell through.

They should have never gone with the reincarnation route, especially if they were never intending to let SY have a true voice in the drama, even if it’s just a final conversation between herself and BH before he leaves, made possible in that split second before true separation. Viewers never got to bond with her, and in those moments we did see her, she was either a watered down version of the personality we were emotionally invested in or emphasized the opposite characteristics (demure, feminine, etc...) that we loved Mr. Queen for rejecting. Also, this angle gives us no true feeling of completeness and satisfaction. SY is with CJ in the past - we won't see them develop their feelings for each other and grow to like them as a couple. BH is in the present but who knows if he'll find CJ's reborn soul and happiness with whoever it is. Promises without fulfillment demand too much from the audience to fill in the blanks. If that's the case, next time just give us a tag line and tell the audience to imagine the rest.

Even if they share the same soul, we are given two distinct personalities and not enough connection between them in terms of their recognizing each other, acknowledging their feelings for CJ to each other in some sort of passing the flame moment that would make it feel more homogeneous and prevent feelings of resentment at what we perceive as an injustice to a personality we adore.

Instead of creating an emotional divide between the two, they should have just have SY die before BH's soul enters, and develop the romance between CJ and HB's as the novel and even that cheap and campy Chinese version did. Having SY there just muddied the waters, and became a distraction and an excuse for every emotional milestone Mr. Queen experienced, negating that character's development and laying it at SY's feet or claims of deliberate interference.

They should have chosen a fictional king and not boxed themselves into a limited outcome. Granted, it gave them a valid reason for booting BH back to present times, but look at the result: limited number of years with someone the audience isn't really familiar with for our beloved ML (plus their baby dies) and a huge question mark for our F-turned back into ML in the present with the hope that maybe the reincarnation thing works in his favor but who knows because they couldn't even toss us that small crumb which would have alleviated some of our heartache for BH as well as give more credence to the fact that SY/BH are the same and thereby lessened the feelings of resentment to the SY character as well. Or they could have gone with a multiverse theory and left it wide open as to what sweeping changes would occur. BH being initially thrown back to the Joseon era as a result of his dying would have achieved that because then the audience would have no reason to revisit the present nor see that the worlds were linked via changes upon his return and stuck with the poisoning threat averted. Blow recorded history to smithereens and leave that to our imagination instead.

Yes, the fish-out-of-water hijinks were great fun, but the completion of the character arcs/relationship/etc...shouldn’t be an afterthought.

The other element I would have liked to have seen that was in neither of the televised versions (though the Chinese one came very, very close) but was in the web novel is the king fully accepting that his wife is not the woman she was, believing that her previous body was a man, falling in love regardless and she with him. However, I think we all knew that wasn’t going to happen in a kdrama.

#MrQueen #MrQueenep20 #MrQueenexplained #mrqueenfinale

30 notes · View notes

phantomofthepairofdice · 3 years

Text

Double Features 2: Splatter, Splicer, Slander, Slasher

Considering the fact that we’re locked down and most folks aren’t going out much, why not settle in on a weekend with double feature. As part of a series of articles, I’ve decided to suggest some titles that would make for an interesting pair. It’s a time commitment like binging a few episodes of a TV show, and hopefully these double features are linked in interesting enough ways that it has a similar sense of cohesion. They also can be watched on separate occasions, but the lesser the distance between them, the more the similarities show. Do it however you want, really. I’m merely a guy on the internet, and that qualifies me for absolutely nothing! Enjoy at your own risk.

This template is back! I wanted to suggest a few more double features, but this time keep them in a specific genre: horror. I love horror movies, and I realized that I hadn’t really given them their due on this here blog, so I wanted to remedy that by showing a lot of love across a lot of different movies. I’ve put together some international movies, some classics, some that are silly, some that are serious, and even a bonus suggestion hidden in one of these blurbs. So without any more ramble in the preamble, here are four new suggested double features.

Note: The pairs are listed in the order I think best serves them being seen.

Hausu & Evil Dead II:

Hausu aka House (not to be confused with 1985 American horror film of the same name) has sort of transcended cult movie status to become a staple of off-center horror-comedy. Directed by recently deceased Nobuhiko Obayashi, the film shows his roots in advertisements with every shot designed for maximum effect, a (still) cutting edge approach in the edit, and a joyous, playful approach to special effects. It’s a gauzy and dreamy romp about a group of schoolgirls who head to the countryside on vacation. While staying at one of their aunts’ house, the supernatural hauntings begin, and heads start to roll (as well as bite people on the butt). It’s the type of movie where the main cast of characters are named Gorgeous, Kung Fu, Melody, Prof, Mac, Sweet, and Fantasy and they each have corresponding character traits. I was lucky enough to catch this at a rep screening at the Museum of Fine Arts a few years ago (further proof that this has gone beyond the cult curio status), and this is absolutely a movie that benefits from having a crowd cheer and laugh along - but it’s fairly easy to find and still has lots of pleasures to be enjoyed on solo watch. I’m pretty much willing to guarantee that if you enjoy it on first watch, you’ll want to share it with others. Now, where does one start when talking about Evil Dead II? Sam Raimi is rightfully as well known for his start in the hair-brained splatter genre fare as he is for his genre-defining Spider-man films. The influence of the Evil Dead movies is nearly unquantifiable, apparent in the work of directors like Edgar Wright, Peter Jackson, Quentin Tarantino, and the Korean New Wave filmmakers like Bong Joon-ho and Park Chan-wook. There’s a reason that the second film of his Evil Dead odyssey is the one that people hold in highest esteem, though. There is an overwhelming gleeful creativity, anything goes, Looney Tunes approach to it that makes the blood geysers, laughing moose heads, and chainsaw hands extend beyond gore and shock into pleasure. It’s been noted over and over by critics and Raimi himself that the Three Stooges are probably the biggest influence on the film, and by golly, it shows. Evil Dead II and Hausu are pure in a way that few other movies can be. Both of these movies are an absolute delight of knowing camp, innovative special effects, and a general attitude of excitement from the filmmakers permeating through every frame. They’re a total blast and, in my mind, stand as the standard-bearers for horror-comedy and haunted house movies.

Total Runtime: 88 minutes + 84 minutes = 172 minutes aka 2 hours and 52 minutes

The Thing (1982) & The Fly (1986):

Feel free to roll your eyes as I explain the plots of two very famous movies. The Thing is John Carpenter’s body horror reimagining of Howard Hawks’ The Thing from Another World and the story that was adapted from, “Who Goes There?” by John W. Campbell Jr. The film is centered around a group of men in an arctic outpost who welcome in a cosmic force of shape-shifting annihilation. What ensues is a terrifically scary, nihilistic, paranoid attempt to find who isn’t who they say they are before everyone is replaced with the alien’s version of them. The film is a masterpiece of tone in no small part due to Dean Cundey’s photography and Ennio Morricone’s uncharacteristically restrained score. The real showstopper here, though, is the creature effects designed by Rob Bottin with an assist from Stan Winston – two titans of their industry. There may not be a more mind-blowing practical effects sequence in all of movies than Norris’ defibrillation – which I won’t dare spoil for anyone who hasn’t seen it. The story is so much about human nature and behaviors, that it’s good news that the cast is all top-notch – anchored by Kurt Russell, Keith David, and Wilford Brimley. While The Thing is shocking and certainly not for anyone opposed to viscera, David Cronenberg’s The Fly is the best example of a movie not to watch while eating. Quite frankly, it’s got some of the most disgusting things I’ve ever seen on film. Chris Walas and Stephen Dupuis’ makeup effects are shocking, but the terror is amplified because this builds such a strong foundation of romance in its opening stretch between Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis in what might be their career-best work. The story is simple: a scientist creates a teleportation device that he tries out himself, but unknowingly does so with a fly in the chamber with him. When he reatomizes on the other end, his DNA has been integrated with the fly. Slowly his body begins to deteriorate, and he transforms into a human-fly hybrid. While this is first and foremost a science-fiction horror film, it’s truly one of the most potent love stories at its center. The tragedy is that the love, like the flesh, is mutated and disintegrated by the hubris of Goldblum’s Seth Brundle. Here are two remakes that – clutch your pearls – outdo the original. They both serve as great examples of what a great artist can bring by reinterpreting the source material to tell their version of that story. The critical respect for Carpenter and Cronenberg is undeniable now, but both of these movies make the case that there are real artists working with allegory and stunning craft in less respected genre fare. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to transpose the thematic weight of the then-new AIDS crisis onto both films, but they both have a hefty anti-authority streak running through them in a time where American Exceptionalism was at an all-time high. If you want to get a real roll going, fire up the ’78 Invasion of the Body Snatchers first to get a triple dose of auteur remakes that reflect the social anxieties of the time and chart from generalized anxiety to individualistic dread to romantic fatalism.

Total Runtime: 109 minutes + 96 minutes = 205 minutes aka 3 hours and 25 minutes

Theatre of Blood & The Abominable Dr. Phibes

That old Klingon proverb that Khan tells Kirk about revenge being a dish best served cold is challenged by these two Vincent Price tales of the macabre. They posit that revenge is best served in extremely convoluted and thematically appropriate predecessors to the Saw franchise. Where Saw trades in shock and extremity, though, these classic horror tales offer an air of panache and self-satisfied literacy. In Theatre of Blood, Price plays a disgraced and thought-dead stage actor who gets revenge on the critics who gave him negative reviews with Shakespeare-themed murder. There’s good fun in seeing how inventive the vengeful killings are (and in some cases how far the writers bend over backwards to explain and make sense of them). It’s a little rumpled and ragged in moments, but Price is, of course, a tremendous pleasure to see in action as he chews through the Shakespeare monologues. Imagine the Queen’s corgis with a chainsaw and you’re on track. Phibes came first and, frankly, is the better of the two. The story is about a musician who seeks to kill the doctors who he believes were responsible for his wife’s death during a botched surgery. The elaborate angle he takes here is to inflict the ten plagues from the Old Testament. I hesitate to use a word that will probably make me come across as an over-eager schmuck, but it really feels best described as phantasmagorical. It’s got this bright, art deco, pop art sensibility to it that’s intoxicating. It also has a terrifically dark sense of drollery - it knows that you can see the strings on the bat as it flies toward the camera. Aesthetically, it feels adjacent to the ’66 Batman show. The music is great and the indelible image of his tinker toy robot band, The Clockwork Wizards, is a personal obsession of mine. Both Theatre of Blood and The Abominable Dr. Phibes feature great supporting turns from Diana Rigg and Joseph Cotton, respectively. Settle in for a devilishly good time and enjoy one of cinema’s greatest vicarious pleasures: getting back at those of criticized or hurt you.

Total Runtime: 104 minutes + 94 minutes = 198 minutes aka 3 hours and 18 minutes

Blood and Black Lace & The Bird with the Crystal Plumage

The final pairing comes from beyond American borders and, to some, beyond the borders of good taste. Mario Bava and Dario Argento are likely the two biggest names in Italian horror, and that’s for very good reason. Bava, who started as a cinematographer, has made loads of movies (even the film which gave Ozzy Osbourne and crew the name their band name) that have tremendous visuals and terrific sense of mood. Argento, probably most famous now for Suspiria, emerged onto the Italian film scene a handful of years later and picked up that baton from Bava to crystallize the dreamy logic puzzles cloaked in hyper-saturated colors. These two films are regarded as quintessential in the giallo genre – named for the yellow covers of the pulp crime fictions that inspired them. As someone who loves the flair that can be applied to make a slasher film stand out amongst their formulaic brethren, I found that the giallo made for a smooth transition into international horror. Blood and Black Lace is a murder mystery that’s as tawdry and titillating as its title suggests. Set in an insular world of a fashion house in Rome, models are being murdered. The plot feels like a necessity in order to create a delivery system for the stunning set pieces that revolve around a secret diary. Bava puts sex right next to violence and cranks up the saturation to create something thrillingly lurid. Six years later, Argento made his first film which has often been credited for popularizing the giallo genre and already is playing around with some of his pet themes like voyeurism and reinterpretation. Built around an early set piece (that stacks up as one of the best in thrillers) in which a man is trapped but witnesses a murder, the film sees said man trying to find the piece of evidence that will make the traumatic killing make sense. Like Bava, it blends sex and violence with tons of flair, including a score by the aforementioned Ennio Morricone. The film is absolutely on a continuum between Hitchcock and De Palma. If you’re looking for a pair of exciting horror/thrillers, or even an entry point to foreign genre cinema, this is an accessible and enjoyable place to start.

88 minutes + 96 minutes = 184 minutes aka 3 hours and 4 minutes

Well, there you have it. Eight movies, and hours of entertainment curated by some guy with no real qualifications. If you’re interested in some more suggestions (in horror and other genres), stay tuned for the next entry in this Double Features series. And if you’re looking for a way to watch these movies, I highly recommend the app/website JustWatch where you can search a title and see where it’s available for streaming or rental. Happy viewing.

Thanks for reading.

#evil dead #evil dead 2 #hausu #hausu 1977 #the thing #the fly #theatre of blood #dr phibes #blood and black lace #bird with the crystal plumage #double feature

15 notes · View notes