There once was a girl with the forest in her bones and the
stars in her hair. There was the sea in her eyes and clouds hiding behind them;
true clouds, soft clouds, lightning-shot clouds and the kinds always making
something new out of themselves and their surroundings. Slight like a sapling
with the impact of a summer storm, smile bright as a crystal and guarded like a
geode. There was the wind in her laughter, and the earth in her hands.
There once was a girl and she was a force of nature and she
was nature: beautiful, beloved, and unstoppable.
HEYY! ‘Kay so.. this has to be my favorite transformation/client so far this week: This beautiful girl Sylvia!! She initially asked for something natural because she didn’t think anything “bold” would suit her (BLEH!) I was like, “UH UHH.. I THINK TF NOT!!” I had to prove a point to her by going with a completely different look from what she wanted showing her she’ll slay regardless! Just a shy quiet girl but LOOK AT HER NOW!!! W/ or without makeup she’s still looks like sex on legs!! <3
Not only is she gorg she has soooo much potential! She’s going off to college this fall & majoring in Criminology!! Bby girl is just destined for greatness & I bet all the money in my account that she’ll slay every girl at prom today!! 😍✨
“Recognize that the very molecules that make up your body, the atoms that construct the molecules, are traceable to the crucibles that were once the centers of high mass stars that exploded their chemically rich guts into the galaxy, enriching pristine gas clouds with the chemistry of life. So that we are all connected to each other biologically, to the earth chemically and to the rest of the universe atomically. That’s kinda cool! That makes me smile and I actually feel quite large at the end of that. It’s not that we are better than the universe, we are part of the universe. We are in the universe and the universe is in us.” ― Neil deGrasse Tyson
Every day he saw her waiting there at the bench. Sometimes she would be standing. Her sun dress flowing in the wind, as if the lace or fabric had been lighter than air, catching even the smallest breeze. Her hair dancing about her face. His eye sight was poor, but he could see her tangled hair dancing. He could smell the perfume of her shampoo carried in the wind as he approached her. Other times she would be huddled together on the bench as she sat. Her knees clenched closely as she held her heavy coat to her frame in the cold wind.
It was the same as when he first met her. The droplets of rain fell hard, each splash on the pavement demanded your hearing. V could hardly believe someone had been caught so off guard by the storm. Her hands went from wiping her ever-dampening hair to her arms, to her soaked cloth clinging to her frame. He remembered thinking how beautiful and natural she looked. How helpless. How, in that moment, he saw someone in need of his help, even if his sight was less than superb. Her bangs and hair clung to her face and she smiled to him. The smile that he had grown to look forward to for weeks to come.
“Please, share my umbrella?” he asked of her as he held it above her shivering frame.
It was the first thing he ever said to her. The first words ever spoken between them as they stood there at the bus stop. Her careful nod and slight smile pierced through him in that instant. Her gratitude. Had he ever been so thankful for his eyesight before?
In his mind he could remember every detail of her. Her face. Her makeup and the way the strands of hair clung messily to her face from the rain like thin vines on a beautiful sculpture. The sound of the droplets on the umbrella and the feel of wetness as the bottoms of his jeans began to soak water and creep up his shins. It didn’t matter, as long as she was dry and comfortable.
“Thank you,” she spoke in soft syllables through the heavy rain.
Her voice had been like a symphony to the backdrop of the rain pattering. Her smile the beams of sunlight in the clouds of rain. It was a gift to see her before him.
When the bus approached and she nodded in gratitude before entering, he felt a heaviness in his chest. Such grace and beauty lost to him now because he hadn’t the courage, nor the strength, to ask her for any more than she had already bestowed upon him. Only a warm smile and a slight giggle from her as he sheltered her from the rain.
The next day it was drizzling lightly as he approached the bench. His sight limited to the bus. And…as if a sign from above, he saw her looking back to him with that same sweet smile. It would insight the tightness in his chest once more. She recognized him? Even with his blurry vision he could never mistake her for another.
“Hello, V!” she would smile and exclaim every time.
Always the same cheerful greeting. It always elicited his heart to work overtime in his chest. He wanted to know more about her. Wanted her to know more about him.
“Call me Jihyun, remember,” he laughed and smiled.
“Oh! Of course, I’m so sorry,” she would laugh and cover her face in embarrassment.
He loved that about her. And without another thought his umbrella would be covering her and sheltering her from the spring rain.
“You don’t take the same route as I do, yet you’re always here at the same time,” she says casually, “why do you take the bus? Your clothes….ah! I’m sorry, is that rude?”
The way she gets flustered turns his cheeks red. He didn’t think he was dressed so richly? Maybe only compared to Jumin…
“It’s not rude,” he chuckled, “my eye sight…” he let his voice trail off.
“I know,” she replied.
Delicate fingertips pressed against his cheeks and shocked him more than he had anticipated. The feeling of her warm fingertips on his skin made his heart leap and his body feel warmth in the growing cold.
“Is that why you…ride public transport?” she had asked.
“Mostly, yes,” he found himself admitting.
It is true. He can still see alright, enough to get around daily life. But he can not drive. Public transport is his means of traveling. He doesn’t wish to be like his friend Jumin, spending money on personal drivers and cars. Figures from afar appear as blurs, but not her.
Perhaps it was the way she smelled. Or sounded.
He could hear her rustling and know it was her. Her delicate hands moving through her bag to find her chapstick. Or her sunglasses. Or phone. He could tell her apart from anyone else in the world. it would start off as if she had forgotten the thing completely. Frantic and manic were her hands in the pockets and crevices of her bag. Eventually, the all-too-familiar sigh would escape her when she found what she was looking for. Maybe others could not pick it up, but he could. He heard and watched her pop the cap from her chapstick in the summer and rub it against her full lips. She wasn’t aware of how bad his sight had been. But she was more aware than most.
Most good days, when he met her at the bench, they would talk about themselves. If she was carrying bags, she would explain what she purchased for him. Even if it was trivial, he found himself enthralled in her explanations.
“Shoes for the beach. You know my old ones always gave me trouble,” she laughed and he agreed since he had known as well, “and this new dress. I don’t know how well it will look. Maybe for a lunch with friends…”
She held the dress up to herself and he felt almost bad for imagining her in it. Perhaps on a moonlit night. She would be waiting as he approached from a street corner. She would be smiling, only for him, in that dress. He’d buy her dinner and wine. They would share her favorite dessert and she would tell him all about her day. He would listen intently. He cared. For a moment he had to remind himself of where he was.
“It’s a beautiful dress for you,” he remarked.
“Why, thank you,” she replied and stuffed the items back in her bag with red cheeks.
One day she was showing him what she had purchased, when she noticed how aloof he seemed, though he was trying his hardest not to show it.
“Your eyesight,” she spoke softly, “it’s getting worse…isn’t it…”
Why was he choking back his words? Was it the slight drizzling rain clouding his eyes, or his own tears as he held his umbrella over what he hoped was her frame. If he could do anything in this world, it was to keep her from being cold…and wet. Somehow, she knew. Just by the way he had acted, for he hadn’t said a word about how he was doing.
He felt a soft hand on his own free one. It was hers. Without thinking twice he smiled and let her lead him. He could even hear her smile in her voice.
“Sunglasses…not that I’ll be needing them anytime soon, don’t you agree? I feel like a fool for believing the weatherman,” she laughed and held her forehead against his own as she did so, while still guiding his hand around her bag.
Was she not put off by his ailment? It was one of the first times he could say he hadn’t felt like an outsider. Someone who needed to be asked to be accepted. She had grabbed his hand…
She had grabbed his hand…and from then on, she continued to do so.
Some days, he didn’t need it. Some days, the sun shone bright and still would be out-shined by her radiance. Her smile and aura as he approached the bench would radiate his core. Whether she was heading to work, meeting friends or shopping, she looked beautiful and full of hope to him. She filled him with her warmth even on the coldest of days.
It wasn’t since Rika that he had felt this way about another human being. And even thinking about her inner beauty, could he say he even felt this way about Rika? No. This person who had accepted him as who he was, even with his sight as it happened to be. This person who asked nothing from him other than conversation as they waited for the bus to take them to their destinations.
When he had fallen in love with her, who could say? But he was sure she felt the same way. Her subtle touches to his hands and arm when they met. The way she leaned in close to explain things to him.
“It is cold…but I do appreciate the rain,” she said one day to him after he had placed his jacket over her. “It gives life to the flowers around us, the plants…Life would cease to exist without the rain. I think we should appreciate it. Don’t you agree?” she asked him.
Of course he did. His hands held her shoulders tightly as he explained so. How badly he wanted to ask her to dinner in that moment. Maybe just to a cup of coffee. To ask her everything about herself. Did she garden? What was her favorite film? Did she enjoy music?
He could sense a lot about her just in the time they spent together. She was selfless. She only went shopping when it meant it was needed. If it was for meeting friends, or perhaps something she didn’t have before. He liked that about her. She was observant.
“The bus has been a little late…fourth time this week…I hope the driver isn’t feeling ill,” she had mentioned one day.
“What’s so funny?” she smiled and put her hand on his forearm playfully, “ I really am worried!”
“Only you would be worried about the driver when your ride is late…I just…find it charming,” he admitted to her.
When he was late, or struggling to make it to the bench, he found her at his side, helping carry his things and hold him steady.
One particularly rainy day, her bus arrived on schedule. It was the familiar slosh of the flowing gutters as it pulled close to the curb for her. The all-too-familar squeak of the door hinges as it swung opened for her. But she did not move. She did not enter. Her hand lay wrapped on his forearm, which held his umbrella sturdy to protect her the best he could from the elements.
“I’m not going in today,” she spoke coyly as the door shut and the sound of the bus driving down the road faded once again in the distance.
He couldn’t hold back his smile much longer. Her touch soothed him. Her delicate hands he had grown to fall in love with. And the sweetness in her voice like warm honey coating his soul.
“We can’t waste the day,” he found himself replying, “how about I take you to lunch…and then maybe dinner?”
“Nothing could make me happier, Jihyun,” she pulled her body in close to his as she spoke.
He could feel her steps in sync with his own. This wasn’t the first time he had taken her out. Not even the twentieth time…her feet and hands, her voice, her steps and the pitter patter they made next to his own feet…the way she walked was all too familiar.
Yes…this day was like many others he had come to share with her. And yet…he felt in his pocket, that hardness in the shape of a box. The velvet case with a ring inside.
It may have come to be a familiar day for them. But today, he would ask her to be his wife.
ive felt the overwhelming need to rave about beauty and the beast since i saw it a few days ago. **SPOILERS**
lets begin from the start
it would’ve been hard to go wrong with cast members like Emma Watson, Josh Gad, etc. i had extremely high hopes and was not disappointed
Dan Stevens (beast) deserves some appluase for being able to wear that amazingly ridiculous makeup in the opening scene (i fucking loved it)
the question of how the hell this village that is within a days ride of the enchanted castle is completely oblivious to its existence is explained
they give Gaston a reason to be so creepily obsessed with Belle. i mean that doesn’t justify his behavior at all, but still. he’s just come back from a war and is clearly still exhibiting behavior (violence, dominance, desire) that are products of being at war.
LEFOU !!!!!, i knew i would love Josh Gad in this role. “but she’s so well-read and you’re so….athletically inclined”
they didn’t alter the core story/plotpoints from the original but instead, added some amazing content that really fills many of the holes from the original and more.
Emma Watson’s portrayal of Belle is just phenomenal, she keeps the essence of the character while fleshing out some things that Belle sort of had (defiance, courage, wit) that were only hinted at in the original.
We get a pretty plausible reason for the absence of Belle’s mother, and it explains why Maurice is a little bit odd.
BEAST HAS A REASON FOR IMPRISONING MAURICE. its a stupid one. but at least its something. it always bothered me in the original that Beast locked Maurice up for no apparent reason other than the fact Maurice trespassed (to escape horrible weather mind you) and sat in his favorite chair???? at least here its because Maurice steals a rose (i said it wasn’t a very good reason). i also believe this concept is from the ORIGINAL story written by the french novelist
Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve (don’t quote me on that though)
MAURICE HAS AN ACCURATE REACTION
(RUNNING OUT TERRIFIED) TO FINDING OUT OBJECTS IN THE CASTLE CAN MOVE AND TALK
Ewan McGregor and Ian McKellan don’t need explanation for being amazing. (someone better invent immortality before Sir Ian McKellan meets his fate)
Belle is badass, she TRICKS her father so that she can take his place because she fucking loves him so goddamn much
Belle also has an accurate reaction to objects being able to move and talk. throwing a stool at them.
the question of HOW the fUCK Belle got Beast up onto Philippe after the wolf attack on her own is finally solved (thank god that even bothered me as a child)
we are told why the servants care for Beast so much even though he’s kinda dickwad AND we are told why he’s such a dickwad, not just cause he that’s who he is but because his father fucked him up
Belle knows about the spell. not how to break it, but she knows that it exists and she knows that a human is behind all the anthropormorphic objects and Beast which makes it A LOT less weird that she falls in love with Beast. In the original, she knows the castle is enchanted but she has no idea about the spell so it’s kinda weird she falls in love with (what she thinks) is just a freak of nature.
BEAST HAS A PERSONALITY AND ITS BEAUTIFUL AND SNARKY AND I LOVE IT HE TRIES TO BEFRIEND PHILIPPE ITS ADORABLE
for some reason, it feels as if Belle in Beast know each other for a lot longer in the remake than the original which is nice.
i will now take the time to rave about the music. it’s beautiful. the original songs are gorgeous and everything they added to them (altered words and such) make them better. i havent stopped listening to the soundtrack
all newly composed songs are so good and fantastic additions
EVERMORE (song sung by Beast when Belle is freed from him) HAD ME SOBBING, HIS VOICE PENETRATED MY SOUL
Maurice and Belle are badass as fuck, i swear, partners in crime getting themselves out of the carriage so that Belle can go warn Beast. i died when Maurice just casually handed the asylum guy the picked lock.
BELLE RIDES WITH PURPOSE YAS
of course i have to note i was all for the gay lefou storyline
i feel as though i have probably missed some things but that about sums up my thoughts. I could go on about the technical side of it and commend the amazing CGI but that’s a whole other story that would just make this post longer than it already is.
i was so hesitant about remakes when Disney started doing them, but if the rest of them can be to this caliber - sign me up.