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lvlyhao · 3 years

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「PART TWO: FEAR」

HUMANITY SERIES; Q.K

A/N: took me long enough to post, I know, but thank you to that last anon for reminding me of the series lol with school i tend to forget what i have and haven’t posted but i’ll do better from now on. i hope you like this :)

important: this chapter includes mentions of vomiting and though i’ve already put a warning for violence and gore in the masterlist, i’m saying it again: please don’t read this if you are not okay with that!!!!

word count: 2.1K

pairing: qian kun x reader

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

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“I’m heading out”, your hands fondly squeeze Taeyong’s shoulders from behind him. He does not look up from his task for a few seconds, counting rolls of gauze. Then, upon processing your words, he twirls to face you. His eyes trail up and down your figure, making a mental checklist of everything you need to be safe. Apparently, one thing is missing.

“Take Jaehyun with you”, he asks, “or maybe Yuta. Johnny is always good to have around, and so is Renjun. Those swords of his are no joke”, he rambles, losing focus. The way he places his hands on his hips and sighs tells you he’s absolutely drained. “Or maybe I should go with you—”

Shaking your head fervently, you pat his cheek for his attention, observing the streaks of noon sunlight across his face. He stares at you with concern and shifts his weight.

“You’re staying right here and so are the boys, Tyong. We haven’t found a survivor in weeks, and taking one of them is always more stressful than anything”, you reason. Recollections of how the boys attract trouble wherever they go cloud your mind, far too many to count. The air suddenly feels too chilly, with shivers running down your spine.

“Just stay here and maybe find a way to rest. You know Doyoung won’t mind keeping track of the supply for you.”

At this point, he knows it’s no use arguing.

“Just be careful… and get back before dawn”, he adjusts the collar of your jacket, thinking back to the weather outside of the grey walls of the dorms. “All I’m saying is you never know what you’re gonna find.” Giving you a tight-lipped smile and a nod, he resumes his job, and you leave him. Headed to the heavily locked iron doors guarded by the towering figures of Shotaro and Sungchan, you ask yourself if there was any hidden depth to Taeyong's words.

“You never know what you’re gonna find, huh", you mutter.

Now, roaming the deserted streets on your own and basking in the orange glow of the afternoon, you just think he was wrong.

It’s already been a couple of hours since you left: you’ve explored parts of the district you barely even knew before the virus, seeing all kinds of animals scurrying around your path. You’ve also eaten the rice balls Jaemin packed for you, and you’ve gawked at the decaying building that used to be your favourite theatre. It’s all the same as you imagined it would be. Not many walkers litter this part of town—just 7 or 8 you managed to avoid—and no people. No one worth rescuing.

Wandering like this, in silence, brings back memories you're not sure you like. Weekly game nights with your friends, attending Jisung’s dance presentations, playing in the park’s playground at night... All of those feel foreign to you, parts of life too good to have ever been yours. Still, the need for a shot of wistfulness takes over, and you sigh. Better now than when it gets late, then. With a shake of your head, you pick a destination and start moving.

You’re conscious of your surroundings as you keep one hand on the bow and make your way across the square. Dry, fiery leaves crunch under your boots, being the only sound you pick up. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, either. The same old abandoned stores seem to look down at you, their busted windows moaning in the wind. But, right then, something jabs at your gut. It's a silent alert to a threat you can't see.

Damnit. You better pick up the pace.

As soon as you make a turn to the left, spying the pizza place you used to visit, you freeze. Walkers, maybe 10 of them, whimper and try to get past the debris to reach something inside a pharmacy.

How could you not notice them earlier? They’re not a quiet horde, and the awful stench is not something you should have missed either. Have you been that lost in your nostalgia?

Whatever happened, you don't have much time. If the undead are making that much effort to get around the rubble, there has to be someone inside. A fellow human being—hopefully, a nice one. Someone you can help.

Acting out of instincts, you drink in your surroundings. Having your back hastily pressed against a tree trunk is not ideal, but it's what comes to you. While you can't call yourself a strategy master, jumping right into action is not the right plan when someone else's life is in danger.

Mind racing, you know you need a better shooting spot now if you want to make a move. Drawing them out to an alley is not a totally bad idea either. They wouldn't be able to escape, and maybe then they could flee.

As soon as you found a perfect corner for that, the screech of old door hinges catches your attention. A second later, shattering glass.

Shit. They broke in.

With no more time to assess the situation, you quickly climb up a rotting picnic table. The zombies, some missing a limb, slowly drag their feet towards a man in a plaid, blue shirt.

He's petrified, head lashing from side to side, looking for a way out. You know very well there is none, and soon enough it will be too late. He’ll be just at reach for those disgusting, putrid fingers. If they get a bite in, it's over for you, and it's over for him.

That’s when you take the stupidest decision of your life.

Screaming.

“YO, YOU POINTLESS MEAT SACK! WHY DON’T YOU LOOK OVER HERE?”

The boy might just get whiplash from how fast his eyes find yours. His are dark and desperate, but there is something else to them—to him. Something you will never find it in you to explain.

It could have been the way the stares right at your soul, or how his face displays every emotion from relief to terror. You could even say it was how his knees buckled under his weight or his fluttering hair in the wind. You can blame your reaction on a lot of things, but none of them startles you as much as yourself.

A cold hand grasps at your heart, squeezing it tightly in your chest. Blood drains from your face, and your frame shakes in the wind. You know this sensation all too well to have doubts, although it is what you swore never to feel again. Fear. Not for yourself, no, even when the undead start walking towards you instead. You don't—can't— care enough about your life, and you know it. It is all for him, the beautiful stranger you are going to save.

The first two arrows find their aim, speeding right through the undead’s skulls, but something shifts in your arms. The rest of your arrows now seem to swerve a bit to the sides, lodging themselves on necks or shoulders. In other words, not where they are supposed to.

Oh, how much you hate that the walkers will only die if you damage their brains.

“Annoying bastards, I swear—”

Falling into a state of near panic, you drop to the floor unceremoniously and race to the horde. If your bow won't do the trick, your other weapons will.

Momentarily thankful for their lack of agility, you pull out the knives hidden on the sides of your shoes. In a flurry of drive, you slash and stab everything around you. While throwing some hand-to-hand-combat here and there, your eyes start to burn. The walkers smell even worse from up close, you bitterly recall from past encounters. It's one of the things that make fighting harder—the urge to run away from them at every second.

The more daring among them clutch at your clothes, keeping your movement limited, but you manage to cut off their hands. The slick sound it makes is enough to make bile rise up your throat, but you swallow it back.

“C’mon, Y/N”, you pant, kicking what had once been an adult woman in the chest to send her down to the asphalt. “You’ve had tougher battles than this." With a breath as deep as you can manage, your knife cuts at another zombie.

It is true, you know. It's impossible to count the times you’ve been up against groups of 20 or more. You were always fine. Right now, though, wincing from multiple wounds scattered around your skin, you question how the hell did you do it.

Hurriedly glancing to your right, you notice 5 are already dead—well, dead-er than they had previously been. The lady you kicked struggles to get up, giving you a gap to spin and bury your knife into her scalp. She goes limp right away, and you stare. 4 more to go.

Just as you retrieve your blade and turn to face the other walkers, something bites your dominant hand. Hard.

With your knife tumbling down in a metallic clunk, fire shoots up your arm. The first thing you do is wiggle your hand back and forth. Some part of you thinks it was going to let go like it’s some sort of dog. You realize you were wrong when darkened saliva flows into the cuts, your mind going blank with agony.

You figure it was one of the undead you had pushed down before, only to lose sight of him later. And, yes, wiggling was a poor attempt at getting him to drop you, but you did it out of pure alarm. Fear is gradually taking over you now, freezing cold and impossible to fight.

With only your non-dominant hand free, you sloppily sink your blade down however many times it takes for the corpse to stop moving. The pain you feel is sharp, travelling through your veins like blue fire. As his grip slackens, the body slumps to the ground, a wet thud echoing. Despite the agony that threatens to blind you, you're aware of the other 3 walkers you have yet to take down.

One is easy enough, with an arrow embedded deep on one side of her neck, and another coming down on her brow bone. Repugnance swirls in your gut, and you have to look away. Their skulls are incredibly soft.

Your remaining enemies pace at either side of you, circling you with dead eyes and faltering strides. You keep your wounded hand close to you while the other clutches the leather grip of your weapon. It's time to put an end to this.

Choosing to go for the right first, you slash at his chest, grimacing at the black blood that oozes. It taints his shredded red hoodie and sprinkles at your front. The shudders that course through you in silent rage give you the strength to finish it off.

In one clean, powerful strike, your knife goes through an eyeball, but he collapses a bit too fast. You can't recover your blade.

Having no weapons on your hands, even for a second, is critical. The walkers are borderline sluggish, but it was easy to lose track of them: your severed hand was proof.

To your relief—or mild disgust—, hasty strides bounce at the pavement behind you, followed by heavy thuds on a slimy surface. It takes no more than 3 seconds for the last body to tumble by your feet, face down.

It's only then you see the skull, or better, what is left of it. Blood and brain flow over a gaping crack, done by something sharp. You could guess it was the heavy, black rock that you find before you, held in the hands of the man you are supposed to be saving.

From there, you realize his medium length hair is a faded blue, with dark brown at the roots. A grey university hoodie hugs his slim figure under the plaids, matching his cargo pants and busted sneakers. His face is all sharp angles and soft edges, but his gaze is nothing short of magnetic.

Wide, chocolate eyes glare at the body with such horror your own throat tightens. Then, with no words shared, he lets go of the rock and stumbles back like he cannot believe what he did. Your own eyes divert to the cloudless sky, hearing him vomiting on the concrete in a matter of seconds. Poor dude.

Pity, combined with the reminiscents of adrenaline and dread, settle in you. Your thoughts boil down to one small detail: the Sun is setting.

The throbbing on your hand momentarily vanishes, lost in the memory of Taeyong very clearly telling you to be back before dawn. Aside from that, the memory of what you did to get the walkers' attention still burns at your mind. That goddamned shout. Having a sense of hearing as acute as they did, you are sure any other zombies around you are coming your way.

You have fucked up big time.

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final notes: ik chapter one wasn’t all that exciting but i’m hoping this one is better wheeze two more to come, stay tuned <3

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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I’m so mad, I’m so.....fuck. I feel like this doctor had no intention of ever doing this surgery because its like ever since I actually CAME UP with the money, its been one thing after another about why I need to do this still or that, and it feels like they kept stalling or trying to get me to give up, like....idk, nothing I come up with makes SENSE, all I know is they were perfectly fine and helpful in getting me a diagnosis and scans, and then sent me off after I did the final molds/impressions and said the only thing left was they couldn’t move forward until I paid x amount of money...and then I did, and all of a sudden its oh that’s not the right amount, I don’t know who quoted you that (umm you) but actually we need 20K up front because insurance claims can’t be submitted until after treatment and we might not be reimbursed (which again, then why did YOU make me wait to send my insurance preauthorization requests if your policy is to make patients pay in full upfront and wait for reimbursement which...what)...and THEN if there was STILL never a chance of me getting this surgery without paying in full upfront, why did they make me wait around for another week and a half while we waited on getting my insurance approve an access to care form that made this doctor in network (previously she was out of network for my insurance, but I had my insurance check for in network providers and there’s no one in network within a 100 miles of me who does this specific surgery)....like, if even being in network, they still weren’t going to take Blue Shield’s formal, written letter detailing what exactly was covered under my plan and they were intending to pay out....WHY WAIT FOR THIS FORM TO GO THROUGH AND GET THE LETTER BACK AT ALL????

It makes NO fucking sense. I feel like they never expected me to actually be able to come up with the money and idk what, like, she actually doesn’t know how to do the surgery or she doesn’t fucking doesn’t like me or want to or what like, lmfao I don’t even know, it MAKES NO SENSE.

But of course, its super obvious they were putting off calling me and hoping they could ride out the clock and I wouldn’t call today because I can tell the office manager doesn’t like being the go between and having to only give me bad news, but like, tough, that’s your fucking job, and maybe if you’d been a little less ‘gentle’ about it and just flat out admitted you guys were never gonna fucking do this surgery for me, I wouldn’t have WASTED an entire fucking month sitting on my ass, draining my account of money I can’t afford to waste, because my shitty jaw has progressed to the point where I can barely sleep, barely even eat because I have to manually fucking close it with my hand when I chew anything harder than rice, lmfao, and just....

God. The only thing I can think of to do now is try calling every other oral/maxillofacial surgeon in the county and see if they can do these procedures and accept my insurance. I know there’s no in network ones, and I already checked and my insurance can’t help me find a list of out of network ones, I have to basically just google every oral surgeon in LA and even though they’re all apparently out of network if they’re able to perform this surgery at all, I can at least probably get them in network by doing an access to care form again with them too, like since clearly this doctor turned out to not be a viable option? Idek man. Ugh. Jfc. And who knows how long this is gonna take. Ugh if they’d at least just fucking owned up to it and just called me this morning when they decided this still didn’t change shit, I could have had all day to be calling other offices instead of waiting for them to call and hoping this time at least they were aware enough of my DESPERATE FUCKING SENSE OF URGENCY BECAUSE HAVE I MENTIONED CONSTANT FUCKING OWWWWW AND ALSO HEY MY COMPLETE INABILITY TO FUNCTION IN ANY KIND OF MEASURABLY PRODUCTIVE WAY??? that they’d actually KEEP their word this time about calling when they said they’d call.

Now of course, none of these places are open on Saturday from the looks of it, so I won’t even be able to START calling around until Monday, and ugh. jfc. why. why the fuck did they string me along all fucking month if they knew at the end of it all no matter what, they weren’t gonna budge from trying to get me to pay 20K upfront, out of pocket, like I hadn’t told them from the START there was no way I could manage that, and hadn’t told them AGAIN when they TOOK my fucking money in the first place, when I paid them the $6,200 they INITIALLY told me would be my downpayment for this surgery, like I told them THEN that getting the loan for $10K in order to come up with the EXACT amount they specified took every bit of goodwill I could wring out of a lender with the credit I do have and there was ZERO chance of me coming up with ANYTHING more than that amount upfront....so why the fuck didn’t they tell me at least THEN when they ‘corrected’ me on the amount that it didn’t matter HOW MANY fucking hoops I jumped through with my insurance to try and get this doctor the reassurance or surety that they’d be reimbursed for x amount by Blue Shield...like....I COULD HAVE BEEN DOING ALL THIS A GODDAMN MONTH AGO. I’ve been waiting TWO YEARS for a fix to this shit that affects EVERY SINGLE ASPECT of my life, I FINALLY got a fucking diagnosis, a doctor who told me she could fix it, who said she could restore full function and wipe out the problems I have from it completely, no more headaches, no more pain, no more vertigo, no more nerve flareups....and now turns out I’ve wasted ANOTHER full month that got me not a single fucking step closer to this being DONE and FIXED and like.....

I’m so mad. And just. So frustrated. And SO. FUCKING. TIRED. Jfc. I hate them, I really fucking do, like they literally just fucking don’t give a shit no matter how many times I really fucking calmly and civilly lol tried to express how much it gets worse every single day like it has been CONSISTENTLY for the past two years, like never fucking plateauing, no matter HOW bad I think its gotten, it ALWAYS fucking manages to find a way to surprise me when I wake up the next day and yet AGAIN its somehow managed to shift so things are just enough different I NEVER get a chance to even get used to a ‘new normal’ and just fucking adjust to it, as shitty as it might be....ugh. God. I’m just.

LMFAO I honestly think right now I hate this doctor more than the fucking gay-bashers who caused this fucking drama by kicking me in the goddamn face over and over 15 fucking years ago and if THAT’S not hysterically fucked up I REALLY DONT KNOW WHAT IS.

Anyway. So that’s my mood tonight, how’s everyone else doing? LOL.

This might be a longshot, but on the off chance that ANYONE knows or is friends with or related to an oral surgeon or oral maxillofacial surgeon in the greater LA area, like, this specifically is what I’ve been told I need to get done:

I need a Mandibular splint, a Total joint surgery on the left tmj (Temporomandibular joint) and an Orthognathic surgery. They specifically ruled out that I didn’t need a jaw replacement surgery because I have enough of the original bone that goes in that joint like, still there, so I didn’t actually need to get a prosthetic joint or the jaw replacement surgery which is apparently riskier and less effective anyway? Idek. If I can even trust anything they told me at this point, lmfao, but let’s just assume I can because not sure this fucker’s depression hour can handle thinking I might have to start back from square one NOPE NOT GONNA HAPPEN NOT THIS GUY I FUCKING REFUSE.

LOL as though my objections have any fucking effect on any of this anyway. BUT I DIGRESS. So yeah, that’s what I supposedly need done, I actually have really fucking good and expensive Blue Shield insurance that I’ve gouged myself a new asshole getting and keeping this year, not to mention needed donation posts and help with that just to still ultimately scrape by and not lose it, all specifically because I knew there was not a chance in hell I could ever afford the treatment I was being told I needed, like, out of pocket, and the irony is due to how expensive living out of a motel is and how like, I couldn’t afford to take any money AWAY from my many doctor visits in order to at any point this past year come up with enough money to put first and last month’s rent down on an apartment (and I look too much like a tweaker apparently, with constant twitches and fidgets and fixing my jaw, for like, anybody to want to just rent a room to me apparently, and even giving them the full story ended up seeming like “im too much drama” hahahaha oh LA I fucking HEART you sometimes), so there was never really any fucking alternative TO living out of motels currently, at least not until I can manage to stay upright on my feet long enough to get a part time job and use that to get a permanent address around here.....AND bottom line is in order to take in enough money from work and then ultimately from help with donations too, in order to keep my motels paid daily and not get kicked out and still manage to eat at least every other day....that was just enough money that it looks from my bank account that I make too much to need or justify Medicare taking on all this for me, ruling that out as an option, even though none of that money in my bank account was ever fucking LEFT by the end of each day after paying rent/food, and I usually only had like three bucks in my account by the time I went to bed each night....doesn’t fucking matter because lolol all they give a shit about is your MONTHLY statements. And I’m well past the point where I can even manage busing all the way around LA to downtown and shit in order to make the daily trips required to get Medicare offices to eventually give enough of a fuck to hear me out, like...a five minute bus ride to Best Buy today to buy a replacement keyboard for this laptop practically wiped me out ahahaha.

Anyway, I’m just venting and purging like I do. Don’t worry, I promise not to actually go supernova and ignite the atmosphere like I threatened earlier, that was all for show, we all know I’m WAY too petty and spiteful an asshole to ever settle for anything less than full fucking victory here and then like...eventual world domination because lol not like I’m letting those frathole rapist gaybasher fuck-offs WIN, like, have you MET me? I have survived this long on ire and spite, I will make it as far as I need to its, just...

*pathetic whines*

I dont fucking waaaaaaaaaaaaant to, I’m tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired, I wanna go to beeeeeeeeed.

Anyway, yeah. So if anyone like, is related to one of those surgical types or KNOWS someone who is, like, my good fucking insurance is set up to pay for having the operation done at Cedars fucking Sinai no matter who does it, like, as long as the doctor has any kind of pre-existing relationship with them, enough to get them to book an OR for them, I guess? I still dont fucking know how all this works, apparently Grey’s Anatomy is not an accurate source, who knew, how dare.

Like but yeah, the endpoint of that particular stream of consciousness vomit was if anyone knows ANYONE who knows ANYTHING about ANY of that surgical medicalese blah blah blah that I posted, like...my anons are open, feel free to pop in with a name and number or suggestion or referral or whatever the fuck, I will take ANY connection no matter how flimsy if it exists at all, I don’t care if its your second grade teacher’s dog’s veterinarians second cousin by marriage’s roommate. That’s GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME.

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well-hidden-hot-mess · 4 years

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today’s thoughts

this is going to be rambly but what else is new. just had a bunch of random thoughts floating around in my head that i just wanted to get “on paper” so hopefully they’ll stop floating around my brain and taking up space where more important things should be and stop stressing me out.

to follow up on yesterday’s post, woke up feeling backed up and bloated so i was dreading the weigh in because i was sure i was going to have maintained or gained. which yes i know is stupid for it to be such a “worry” or be on my brain the first second i wake up but it wasn’t i swear. i was up at 5am and this happened at like 7am but the second i looked at my body and saw my stomach being all puffed out i was like this isn’t going to be fun... but i tried to be positive and be like look, yesterday you “only” (i need to stop using that word) went for a leisurely walk (i’ll go into that next) and did yoga for activity (even though I hit 11,000 steps) plus you didn’t drink all of your water and you ate an extra 230 calories in the form of a chocolate protein bar (more on that later too) so if you are up a little bit, it’s understandable and it’ll be okay... stepped on the scale, looked down, and was shook because I lost .9lbs... halle-fucking-luyah. i shouldn’t feel such a relief at that but i think it was just that weight was lifted (no pun intended) from my shoulders because i was kicking my ass so hard the last 10 days and wasn’t seeing any progress so it was just a lot of frustration built up since i knew there was zero reason this should be happening due to previous experience and just common sense with how this all works. oh idk if i mentioned, i did lower my macros yesterday back down because my activity level wasn’t as high as i thought it would be and i wasn’t as active in between my workouts and since i was maintaining pretty steadily, i figured that would be a good idea and i was right.

for the walk part, i forced myself to slow the f down and do an actual leisurely walk and ended up losing track of time and walking an hour and afterwards i wasn’t absolutely wrecked and useless the rest of the day. so that’s the plan from now on unless i’m doing cardio as my more intense workout of the day (like if i’m pairing it with yoga or something) or doing the stairs or something.

the protein bar. well i was all up in my feels and had no idea why and was just really tired and mentally drained but not like full on but like 75% done and just emotionalish. i had drank my preworkout and was determined to go workout but it like never kicked in and that kinda hinted to me that maybe i just needed a break and it would be better to do it today (my hip was ultra pissed plus i was exhausted so it wouldn’t have been the best and it would’ve just made me frustrated and not a positive experience). so i made myself a healthy dinner (air fried skinless chicken drumsticks (which holy fuck are my new favorite food ever) with asparagus and brown/wild rice) even though i wanted nothing to do with cooking (thankfully they were all already prepped) and figured they would fit in my macros. lol jk because the macros i thought i had left didn’t include the rice i had at lunch so with some switching around my carbs/fats, i hit everything pretty spot on. which i was happy about for .1 second until i wanted something sweet since that’s how i always end my day and i had zero macros left. so that little “fuck it” voice popped up and i was like you know what, it’s not going to kill me and i just want it so it’s fine, i don’t care (not like f it i don’t care but more like it’s only 230 calories, i’m not going to let that ruin my day) and crawled into bed. it was at that point that i realized i was emotional when a tiktok that was like “things will get better” like sweet but not like powerful enough to ellicit the reaction of tears rolling down my face. so i looked up exercise for depression figuring there’d be something that would help me and then one of yoga with adriene’s videos popped up called “yoga for depression” and it was like 15 mins so i’m like let me just do this in my bed and maybe i’ll feel better in general and less guilty for completely skipping the second workout. so i did that one... and then another... and another to total 45 mins. i felt so much better afterwards and like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and i fell asleep really quickly and easily after that so i’m so beyond happy i did it and feel proud of myself to not give into the impending binge that i could feel brewing and to not just give up on the day and stay in that negative headspace. so that was a good end to a could’ve been terrible day.

i went to target yesterday and as always went a little crazy with the spending but it was mostly on stuff i needed and healthy snacks that don’t go bad quickly. but my plan was to get back from my walk, eat something, clean myself up a little, and go to target so get there by like 12. i just couldn’t get myself to get up and go. i was ready, there was just something holding me back aka anxiety. like target is my happy place... i had more than enough money so it wouldn’t be a stressful thing... and i just couldn’t get myself to get up and go. i think quarantine and not working/leaving my apartment every day has made my anxiety expand into like very mild agoraphobia like symptoms. i finally was just like fuck it, i need to go now or else it’s going to be busy with all the kids getting out of school and people getting out of work so i ended up leaving at 3 finally. it’s just a weird feeling having this invisible thing holding me back to begin with but like ultra weird that it was holding me back from a place i love a little too much. but i’m proud that i pushed through and ended up having a nice relaxing visit and FINALLY found my favorite creamer (oat yeah oatmeal cookie flavor omg) when they’ve been out for months and a couple other fun snacks that i’m excited to try. plus i found cute little baskets to put in my shoe rack and i love them and some organizers for my bathroom drawers which desperately need to be reorganized so i’ll probably do that later since it’s a rainy day so i won’t feel guilty not being outside.

i’ve been thinking about work again and some things have been floating around in my brain. like making a youtube channel (about what? no fucking idea), or a podcast (again about what tho?), or a blog (same issues) or something like that where i can work from home for now on my own schedule until i’m ready to go back out into the real world and work again. i think i’m going to do some brainstorming about that today and report back.

my dad got me the new ninja air fryer/oven and omfg i’m legit obsessed. it’s like the only positive thing i have right now and as sad as that is, i’m ignoring how pathetic that is and just enjoying it for now. #ignoranceisbliss

i think i’m going to adopt a kitten like this week. i need something cute and fluffy and to make me happy and to focus on so i don’t go insane. nashville humane has so many cute little nuggets and one is a tuxedo and his name is elmo and i’m obsesseddddd.

okay this has been going on for way too long so i need to go chug an energy drink and get my walk started before the torrential downpour from the latest hurricane/tornado/whatever the fuck it is.

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whaledynasty · 4 years

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Bong Joon Ho’s Mother (spoiler alerts!!)

I watched Bong Joon Ho’s Mother last night and I really enjoyed it. It’s about a mother who sets off to discover what actually happened and who the real murderer is when her mentally challenged son is accused of murdering a high school girl in their town. As she sleuths around, she gathers more bits and pieces of the whole picture and takes things into her own hands.

In the beginning, her son and his thug friend Jin-tae are involved in a hit-and-run incident; they find the rich folk who hit them and get into a fight. Jin-tae smashed one of the rearview mirrors of the expensive car and blames Do-joon for it - and the latter doesn’t realize it until later when he remembers it was Jin-tae who actually did it. This lets us know how bad Do-joon’s memories are, how much of a fog his mind is in, and also makes Mother worry about her son hanging around such a guy. Also while they’re in the police station with the rich folk, one of them calls Do-joon a “retard” and he immediately gets aggressive, trying to attack the man. Strike 1.

At the dead girl’s funeral, Mother is yelled at and attacked for daring to show her face there; even though she wanted to express her sympathy for a member of their community passing away, the women at the funeral view her only as the mother of the dead girl’s murderer. We see an alcoholic granny finish off a bottle and hurl the empty bottle into the distance. This is the dead girl’s grandmother, as she didn’t have any parents. Mother finds out more about the dead girl Moon Ah-Jung: she gets frequent nosebleeds; she has a cellphone which doesn’t make any noise when taking pictures, so she uses it to snap secret shots of boys/men after she’s slept with them; in return for sleeping with her, they give her rice cakes or liquor, thus her nickname was “Rice Cake Girl”. She doesn’t have parents but has an alcoholic granny, so to support herself and her granny she sleeps with anyone and everyone. Meanwhile in jail, one of his in-mates calls Do-Joon a “retard” and on cue, Do-Joon attacks the man. Strike 2.

When Mother implores her son to remember any details from the night of the murder, he rubs his temples (this helps him to focus and try to recall his memories) and remembers he saw a man’s face through the window of that abandoned building where she died. Mother remembers the man - a junk collector - and pays him a visit, where to her horror, he tells her what he witnessed that night. Ah-jung hurled a large rock at Do-Joon after he said he doesn’t know her and called him a “retard” for following her....Strike 3.

Do-Joon hurls the rock back at the girl and it crushed her head, killing her. Panicking, Do-Joon drags the girl’s body up to the roof of the abandoned building and drapes it over the ledge. Horrified upon discovering the truth of what had happened that night, and determined to not let the man alert the police that it really was Do-Joon who killed the girl, Mother grabs a wrench and bashes the man’s head in, repeatedly striking him until he’s dead.

I really like how the 2 murders mirror each other. Like her son, Mother kills someone with a blow to the back of their head with a heavy object. When she sees the pool of blood forming under the dead junk collector’s head, she screams, as if suddenly aware of what she’d done. A short while later, we see her with a blank face and empty eyes calmly lighting the whole house on fire and walking out robotically. I think she used one of her acupuncture needles to hit the meridian point on her thigh to forget what she’d done.

However, she accidentally leaves her acupuncture needles box there and it’s after Do-Joon is released from jail and rifles through the burnt remains of the house that he discovers the box and returns it to Mother, saying she was careless. Another similarity - they both left something at the scene of the crime: Do-Joon leaves a golf ball with his name scrawled on it, and Mother leaves her acupuncture needle box. When he returns it to her, I feel like things went full circle finally. The whole movie is about Mother covering up for her son’s actions...and now the son helps the mother cover up her murder as well!! I love the genius of this. This made me think back to one of the scenes near the beginning of the movie where Do-Joon is pissing on the side of a street, and after he runs off in a hurry, Mother rubs the soles of her shoes on the wet ground, then moves a tile/scrap from the trash over to cover up the wet ground splashes. This was foreshadowing how she’ll follow up after his actions and cover up for him!!

While they’re eating dinner together, he says he suspects the murderer left her body up on the roof so someone would be able to see her and help her. This basically confirms that he was the one who did it - only he could think of something like that. A really touching scene was when Mother visits “crazy JP who escaped the sanatorium” in jail. The police found Ah-Jung’s blood on his clothes and believe he’s the one who killed her; even though he denied and said the blood was from them going at it too hard and she got a nosebleed...which Mother knows is true. JP is innocent and he’s in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. She loses control of her emotions when asking him if he doesn’t have any parents and he says “no” and she asks him again through choked sobs “you don’t have a mother?” and he says “no”. It was so emotional b/c JP has Down syndrome; Mother probably views him as a helpless child like her own son - but JP doesn’t have a Mother who will go to any means possible to clear her son’s name and help free him. JP is stuck forever. He is 100% case closed - as the detective told Mother when her own son was jailed initially.

There were a couple things I was left wondering about:

- How come the junk collector remained silent when he saw Do-Joon kill the girl? I get that he saw the next day how the police had already nabbed Do-Joon so he thought justice was served but like...he was waiting in the abandoned house for the girl to sleep with her (he was measuring out rice and laying sheets out on the ground in anticipation) but then this random guy kills the girl right before she arrives and the junk collector watches all of this, including him slowly dragging her corpse up the stairs to the roof? That’s kinda disturbing lol.

- How did Do-Joon do all that without getting a single drop of the girl’s blood on himself? Shouldn’t there have been blood if her head got bashed in with a huge rock and he proceeds to drag her corpse up the stairs?

- I think Mother probably used the acupuncture needles on her son and herself when he was 5 after her failed attempt to kill them both by drinking insecticide. The way she screamed when he remembered how she had tried to kill him - it made me think that she had forgotten about it and now her son resurfacing the memories stirred a lot of pain within her. She was so surprised, saying how could you remember that, you were only 5. Makes me think that her way of using the needles to forget the pain memories/trauma is unreliable. The movie ends with her sticking a needle in her thigh before getting up and dancing and letting loose with the rest of the ahjumma’s on the bus...somehow I feel like it’s only a temporary solution and that one day she’ll remember everything. She also looks so empty, as if all emotions have been drained out of her and just her shell remains, like when she stumbled out into the field after killing the junk collector. She stumbles around and then stares at the dried blood on her hands as if forgetting where she is and what’s doing. This draws a parallel to her son, how he’s always seemingly in a daze and doesn’t remember a lot of things. Maybe it’s the needles, maybe it’s the insecticide they both drank, maybe it’s the herbal drinks she consumed trying to get pregnant with him (maybe that’s why he’s dim-witted?).

#bongjoonho #mother #movie #moviereview

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