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padfootastic · 1 year

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summary: from euphemia to james to sirius to harry to lily luna—traditions passed down through the generations of potters. love in the form of feeding your people, aloo paranthas as a labor of love etc etc

a labor of love

(also on ao3!)

August, 1970

“Jamie, breakfast’s ready!”

Loud steps thundered around the house as her ten year old raced down the stairs. Euphemia didn’t even bother to reprimand him at this point—she knew it was a pointless endeavour. Instead, she made sure the safety charms on the staircase were always updated.

“HiMumGoodMorningWhatsForBreakfast,” James’ words came out in one single whoosh of air and it was only because this was her child that she had extensive experience with that she could decode what he was saying.

She smiled gently while placing the plate in front of him. “Aloo parantha, honey.”

“Yesss,” James hissed in pleasure, a quick fist pumped in the air, before bending forward with his nose mere millimetres away from the paranthas.

Euphemia swapped the back of his head with a ‘tsk’. “James. How many times have I told you not to smell your food? You’re not a dog.”

“Ma, you don’t get it, okay. It smells so good,” he replied with a goofy, cross-eyed expression. “Seriously, whenever I go to heaven, I just know it’ll smell like fried potato and ghee and coriander. Life can’t get any better than this.”

Euphemia could only smile at the innocent look of wonder on her son’s face as he tore a piece off to stuff it in his mouth, hoping it always stayed there. If she had to keep making him aloo paranthas every morning to keep it there, she’d happily do so.

August, 1976

Sirius huddled closer into the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest and trying to count his breaths so he didn’t go so fast anymore.

It was some ungodly time of the day and he was sitting on the floor, pressed right up against the corner of the living room of Potter Manor, having a minor—really, not a big deal at all—panic attack about…well, everything.

It hadn’t been two days since he’d run away from Grimmauld Place and already the hopelessness was settling into his bones. He couldn’t stop replaying the words and curses and taunts and Reg’s face and—

“Sirius?” A drowsy voice cut through his spiral. He shouldn’t be surprised.

James always had a way of doing that.

“H-Hi, Jamie,” he replied, straightening up and wiping his eyes in a futile attempt to hide the tears he could feel pooling there. It wouldn’t work, he knew that, James always, always knew but he still had to try.

Sure enough, a pair of sock clad feet (adorned in little animated snitches) stopped right in front of him. His gaze traveled slowly, reluctantly, up to see James looking at him with a complicated look on his face. It was a mixture of sadness and frustration and resignation. Sirius hated that he put it there. James wasn’t made for expressions like that—he should always be happy, smiling, and this felt wrong, wrong, wrong.

Before he could do anything, though (not that there was much in his control), a hand entered his vision, palm up in invitation. Without even thinking twice about it—he would always choose James—he let himself be pulled up and straight into strong arms that were the only thing keeping him whole and grounded so far.

The hug ended in less time than it took for him to draw a full, shaky, breath. The abruptness of it left him reeling.

“Come on,” James said, tugging him in the direction of the kitchen. Sirius followed, confused, letting himself be manhandled into the kitchen stool and watched James take something out of the cooking cabinet.

“Boiled potatoes,” he explained, already moving on to the spice rack. “Mum always keeps some ready to go.”

With quick, practiced movements, James had them peeled and mashed. Another sealed container was retrieved—‘Dough. For the rotis’—and a flat top griddle was placed on the stove.

Sirius watched the whole thing in a daze, unable to identify a single thing but being comforted all the same. It felt almost like a ritual; the rhythmic movements of James’ hands as he rolled the dough into balls, and stuffed them with the potatoes. Watching him smooth it out into a round, flat shape.

“I didn’t know you were so proficient in the kitchen, Prongs,” Sirius finally said as the kitchen warmed up from his best mate’s ministrations, the smell of ghee-fried dough and spiced potatoes permeating the air.

“I’m not, really,” James shrugged. “But aloo paranthas are—they’re different, you know? Everyone should know how to make them.“

“I’ve never even tried them.”

“Well, then, everyone should have them at least once in their lives,” James said, firmly.

He placed a plate full of warm, steaming—aloo paranthas in front of Sirius and without even knowing what they really were, he could feel the rest of the tension seeping out of him. It’s a temporary relief, to be sure, but that it happened at all is enough to both awe and excite him.

He looked up at James with wide eyes, only to receive a knowing smile in return.

“Have a bite, Pads,” James pushed the plate closer. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

And he didn’t.

As he sat there and entirely demolished four of the wonderful paranthas—after days of not feeling the slightest pang of hunger—Sirius was helpless against the warmth that suffused his entire being, not just from the heat of the potatoes, but from the boy in front of him who’d decided to take a chance on him. Decided to welcome him not just in his arms but his house, his family.

August, 1995

“Sirius, why are we here?” Harry asked, confused. A minute ago, they were in the garden, talking about something or the other, and then suddenly his godfather had grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the kitchen.

“Because you, my dear Prongslet, have been severely, unforgivably wronged and it’s time to start rectifying that,” Sirius proclaimed, which really didn’t help.

“…huh?”

“You just told me you’ve never had anything but bland, boring British food. Ever.” Sirius stressed the last word, making a point Harry wasn’t quite sure of.

“Yes…because the Dursleys are raging racists and Hogwarts isn’t too creative with its culinary choices,” Harry slowly said, feeling eerily like he was defending himself for…not being able to have a diverse palette?

“Exactly. If James had a grave, he’d be rolling around in it.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Look, I was supposed to do this for you since the day you were old enough to eat solids. That I didn’t…well. Let’s not go there right now. But now that I do have the chance, it’s practically first on the list of my godfatherly duties—“

“What is, Sirius?” Harry asked, slightly exasperated. The man was making no sense.

“Making aloo paranthas, Harry! Come on, keep up, it’s bad enough you’ve gone this far without—any longer and I swear, James will find a way to come back to wring my neck and tie you to a chair just so he could force feed you,” Sirius finished, a slightly haunted look in his eyes like he was speaking from experience.

Harry blinked. What—?

“Now, luckily for us, the boiled potatoes are already done. You’ve got me to thank for that bit of foresight, of course, never go without since fifth year—“

“Why?”

“—because they’re so versatile—“

“Right, of course, how silly of me.”

“Yes. So, now you’ve gotta peel and mash it, and none of that ricer or fork nonsense, either, okay? You’ve gotta really get in there with your hands.” Sirius demonstrated by taking one slightly cold potato from the bowl, expertly peeling and crushing it between his fingers. He kept going until it was almost smooth, with just the smallest hint of texture. Once done, he turned expectantly towards Harry, eyebrow raised and ‘go on’ written all over his face.

Still slightly bemused, Harry stepped forward and gingerly took a potato of his own. Trying to peel it was—not as easy as he thought and everything else faded away as he concentrated on making sure no brown bits remained. It was a surprisingly soothing task. When he had his first potato peeled and mashed, he turned to Sirius proudly.

“There. What next?”

Sirius nodded in approval. “Now, we do the rest of it.”

And standing there shoulder to shoulder, the two of them managed to get through a veritable mountain of boiled potatoes, interspersed with Sirius’ stories of the Potters, a rare, greedy pleasure for Harry.

“Your grandmum, Euphemia, she’d make this for breakfast every so often. It was James’ favorite and she could never resist his great, big eyes—you get that from him, by the way. Not many people could, mind, but it was particularly effective when he wanted to scam some paranthas out of her.”

and “Your dad wasn’t the best in the kitchen, but this was one thing he was absolutely adamant he learn. Spent hours with Effie and Rani perfecting it, as well.”

Once the potatoes were done, Sirius directed him to the spice cabinet. “Now, this is the most important bit, Harry. Everyone makes their aloo paranthas in their own way. You can have different people following the same recipe and all of their final results would still taste different.”

Harry nodded in understanding. It was a bit like Aunt Petunia’s prized Roast Dinner—she always claimed no one else could make it the way she could, not even letting Harry close to the preparation of it.

“The first time I had this was in fifth year—similar to you, come to think of it—and I’ve experimented after, right? It was so good I had to. I went to many, many places in muggle London—roadside stalls to fine dining, you name it—and not once have I felt the same as when your dad made it with his eyes still half closed and the paranthas a little burnt on the edges and a bit undercooked in the middle. There’s no competition. So. It’s all in the spice, yes?”

Sirius handed him the container of carom seeds. “That being said, the most important bit?”

Harry leaned forward, eager, all hesitation forgotten in the face of a piece of his culture, his family being passed down to him like this.

“You’ve got to—“

August, 2017

“—measure with your heart, okay, Lils?”

Little Lily Luna Potter, only nine but adopting an air of maturity of someone much older, nodded solemnly, taking her dad’s word as gospel.

“This isn’t just food—this is you telling someone you love them. It’s a warm hug. Feeding someone, taking care of them, is no small job. So, forget all this measurements nonsense and just get in there,” Harry finished, nostalgia coating his words as he quoted his own godfather word for word.

“Get in there, Daddy!” Lily-Lu repeated empathetically.

“That’s right,” Harry chuckled, using one hand to ruffle the riotous mane of red curls piled on top of her head. “The next thing to go in is the powdered spices. Which ones are those, again?”

Lily-Lu squinted thoughtfully. “Coriander powder, red chili powder, tyoo-mer-ic, and cumin powder. That’s all of it, right, Daddy?”

Harry smiled at her serious countenance. “There’s just one more you’re missing.”

She frowned, biting her lip and mumbling under breath. “One more? Coriander…chili…cumin…and—and—garam masala! It’s garam masala, isn’t it?” The last few words were said in an excited shout, almost loud enough to startle him but he could only lean forward and place a quick kiss on her forehead in approval.

“Sure is, sweetheart. You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”

“I’m smart, Daddy, you and Mummy say so,” Lily-Lu returned, self-satisfaction radiating from every inch of her little frame

“That’s because you are; the smartest of us all, isn’t it?” Harry teased, while carefully mixing the spices with the potatoes. This one he’d do himself—Lily-Lu’s hands weren’t the steadiest yet.

“Oh!” She exclaimed suddenly, leaning forward. “The salt! You forgot the salt, Daddy.”

Harry blinked in surprise, looking down at his array of ingredients and realised he had.

“Huh. So I have, it seems. Would you like to do the honours, Lulu?” He extended the container towards her, smiling once again at how she was practically vibrating in excitement.

Harry was—not just glad but utterly ecstatic that he could do this, had the opportunity and ability for it. And he had no one but Sirius to thank for it.

Taking care of me even from the afterlife, aren’t you, Siri? he thinks with a silent offering of gratitude to the universe. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for it, for everything.

“And now, the absolute final step?”

“The chopped coriander!” Lily-Lu chirped, already reaching forward to clasp a handful of coriander he’d prepared beforehand. She sprinkled it all over their mixture with a high, bright giggle and Harry could’ve spent an eternity in that moment, with his child beside him and the weight of his family behind him.

#euphemia potter #james potter #sirius black #harry potter #lily luna potter #this is perhaps the most personal thing i’ve ever written.#no other piece of work has more of me and my life in it #and i don’t it will either. i’m not a huge fan of ~reality yeah?#but i was eating aloo paranthas my aunt made me today. feeling exceptionally content.#and remembering the time my grandma made the same for me #and how the way my aunt and mom make it is the literal same taste bc rhe learnt from their mom (grandma)#and how i’m learning to make it the exact same way (about. 75% there i’d say)#and i’m feeding my friends and enjoying seeing the joy on their face #so aloo paranthas are like. nostalgic. and a labor of love. and a symbol of family and affection and generational habits passed down #so u have a whole fic around it bc projection is what i do best #i’m still v apathetic to identity headcanons for the same reasons as before #but this had to be done so that issue is put to the side for a while #also like. why is posting on tumblr so fkn difficult my god #why does it not accept formatted stuff 😭#i’m sure there’s a way to do it but i’m either too stupid or too lazy #but that and the weird spaces it adds between paragraphs will be the death of me some day #anyway. enjoy! i have lots of thoughts about it so feel free to come talk to me about it #massively restraint in myself in the tags & authors notes #this was just supposed to be a lil tumblr drabble but it. just. Grew?#so yah.#pen’s writing

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girlscience · 13 days

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Okay. I know I have a lot of cooking mutuals, what do I need to do to make cooking enjoyable??? I am so fucking tired of eating canned soup and kraft mac n cheese and "concoction" (ground beef with whatever else I have that needs eaten and every spice I own). I know people say "if you don't like veggies try different ways of cooking them!" here the thing though, I hate veggie prep. So even changing how I cook them, everything else about veggies is an awful experience for me so I never want to do it. I know people talk about "15 minute meals!" and "one pan recipes!", but so far those have all been lies. People talk about experimenting and trying new things, but I straight up don't know how to do that. People say to listen to podcasts or audiobooks while prepping, but either I focus on the prep and hear none of the story or I focus on the story and struggle with the prep. I am not fast with prep, so meals that require prepping multiple things at once or prepping something while something else is cooking never fails to stress me out to a wild degree. I don't know how I'm supposed to keep everything from burning and keep things stirred and chop up everything and get the next ingredients out and clean as I work all at the same time. I do not enjoy picking out recipes or buying groceries (genuinely hate more than any other chore besides laundry), so meal prep is next to impossible for me. I forget to thaw meat nearly every time I want to cook something and so end up putting it off for days. I can never seem to get my roasted veggies to actually roast, somehow they just steam themselves in the oven. I do not want or like cooking gadgets, so I am doing everything with the very basic supplies. I am cooking for one person so leftovers are a constant issue (I have eaten so much left over food that I find genuinely sickening because I didn't want to waste it). And then I have to do this every day forever till I die. How do I make myself like this??? I am so fucking tired of eating gross food.

#the last time I cooked something myself I genuinely enjoyed was a pork tenderloin and the time before that was a soup #both were delicious and amazing #and both took well over several hours to complete.#I did nothing but cook those nights and didn't get to eat until like 8 or 9 #in theory!!!! neither should have taken that long but I am not speedy!!!!#but anyway because they were so time consuming and messy and stressful I have never made them again #and it's been 2 years since the soup and probably almost 1 since the tenderloin #I tried other ways of cooking pork tenderloin and they were meh to actually gross and I was fighting my gag reflex #to force myself to eat the whole thing (homemade mustard for a crust without the correct ingredients is nasty fyi)#I have a handful of cookbooks some of which have recipes I would genuinely like to eat #but it's just so much #I don't know what to do #I ate some chicken strips and lettuce (both dipped in ranch) and cottage cheese last night #and I was actually forcing myself to eat every single bite because it was so gross feeling in my mouth and the taste was not good either #today I made some pilsbury cinnamon rolls and eating them was also just disappointing #I thought about making chicken and rice for dinner #I got a seasoning packet to try that my family said is super super good #but the chicken is frozen... I guess if I got it out now it would thaw #and the rice I have is eugh. it never cooks fully (tbh I'm not a huge rice person anyway)#and I don't have anything to eat with it? some frozen veggies but they don't feel like ones that would go #and I can never get frozen veggies to actually cook properly so I hate the way they feel when I eat them #I could make a muffin mix but I'm so tired of just eating carbs #I want to cry. I hate this

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goddess-of-graphite · 11 months

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The Great Notes App Exodus: Half-Dead and Still Kicking

The thing is, Jason’s been a ghost for a while, okay? Six whole months, and it’s been a goddamn adjustment, being capable of floating through walls and falling through furniture if he’s not careful, if he’s not concentrating. He goes unseen and unheard in a manor too full of grieving to only be residence of two people - Alfred keeps his room tidy and untouched, as if it’s a shrine to keep care of, and Bruce is…

Jason is, was, Robin, so he can’t quite help himself from following in Batman’s shadow as the man patrols, more vicious, more brutal than Jason has ever seen him. He takes more risks, gets injured more often - and it’s terrifying, the way Batman grieves, as if trying to follow him into the grave. So Jason follows, unbeating heart in his throat, and only relaxes again when Bruce is safe in the manor, sleeping off whatever injuries he got during the night.

He can’t interact with the world, but he can watch the shades of past residents going about their lives, and he learns things from doing this even as he fears becoming them one day, mindlessly replaying a life long passed. He can snoop and explore without worry for being caught, and if he ever gets bored he can practice flying (so much harder than it seems - he’s careful never to go too high, too worried that he won’t be able to come back down again, even with the ceaseless curiosity in the back of his mind wondering - just how far can I go? Beyond the sky? Could he touch the stars, if he wanted?) and when everything is terrible, when the memories of his death, his last few hours of life, haunt him, when he is drowning in his own head, he finds distractions; the way the air currents sometimes seem to react to him, trying to move things like ghosts do in those terrible movies, chattering to whoever is around and pretending they can hear him, finding mysteries to solve (what’s up with that camera kid, anyway? He’d never noticed him before…) and trying to read books in the library through sheer force of will, usually ending up just reciting the parts he knows.

(Two months and a bit in to this whole “ghost” thing, he finds out the deal with the camera kid. Jason can only be relieved because, kid’s got a point - and Bruce seems to do better with someone to protect, to teach, to watch over.

He’s not practically tearing people apart with his bare hands anymore. He’s not taking hits he should have been able to avoid anymore. He’s not lurking at the edge of rooftops anymore, staring at the ground as if contemplating how far away it is.)

And Tim… he’s weird, but brilliant, and Jason feels a little protective of him. Follows him whenever he goes out, sharp eyes watching his back regardless of whether he can protect it or not (and maybe it’s his imagination, but the world seems more real when he’s watching over Tim, closer and present in a way he can almost feel, as if he could actually affect the world, if he just tried hard enough - if he just needed to desperately enough).

And then, six months after his-… after this ghost thing started, something… changes.

Something Happens, and he can almost taste the strange Knowing - something, somewhere, has gone wrong, or perhaps right, and the ripples extend beyond the event, slipping into each corner of the universe with the subtlety of a truck, and yet somehow unnoticed.

The ghosts notice. Pale shades lift their heads, existing outside of their own memories for the first time in an age - and Jason, who is new, who is Robin, who lived in Gotham where all things become possible, is hit by the wave of Something Happening Elsewhere Rippling Out and wakes up in a box.

In a coffin.

(But Jason has been a ghost for six months, and the pain of living again is enough to reach for the existence of being a ghost, and by the time he has sorted himself out and half-clawed, half-floated his way out of his grave (again), he doesn’t expect himself to be anything but what he has been for the past six months.)

(And then, of course, he discovers he can interact with the world if he concentrates, if he wants it enough, and he assumes that Whatever That Was made him a stronger ghost.

It’s not an unfair assessment. Incorrect, but not beyond reason.

Why would he think he came back to life, anyway? That’s a bit far-fetched, really.)

#tangentially a danny phantom crossover but it’s not hugely important #graphite writes #i have so many random bits of writing in my notes #this is me basically setting them free into the world #lmao enjoy ig #DC #Jason Todd #Jason Todd is a ghost #The Great Notes App Exodus #I figured the deal here was Danny’s misadventures with stuff like the reality gauntlet causing a ripple effect #and because Danny is a halfa the rest of the multiverse kind of gets a template of his existence #thereby making the creation of halfas more likely in places they wouldn’t have formed before #… such as the dcu #so yeah Jason is a halfa but coming at it from the opposite angle than danny #and for most of the time his human form is kind of sleeping and healing from his death wounds #but he starts needing to eat and stuff as a ghost in the meantime in order to maintain his living half #and the ripple also caused the ghosts closest to Jason’s haunt to become more aware #like proper ghosts rather than the shades they were #that’ll probably extend to Gotham later as Jason gets stronger and thus gains the ability to filter the city’s manky ecto more and more #especially if he’s not using up a whole lot of energy fighting ghosts like Danny does #so the surplus is just kind of siphoned off by Gotham where other entities can feed on it #and become stronger #>:3c

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neverendingford · 3 months

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skyglow:

(alternative title: photo dump of a midnight desert run)

#photography #Ford's Art #color says shit #it was either go on a twelve mile run or re-download grindr and get absolutely blasted so I went with the more responsible option.#b because damn I'm feeling it tonight. or at least I was before the run. I need to shower and then I'll cook dinner and go to bed satiated.#I did also jerk off under the bridge and then piss on someone's flowers on the way home. gotta get those animal instincts out somehow right?#anyway I've successfully vented most of my manic energy and a cold shower will finish it off and then we're good.#the mood meds have been helping a lot. last time I got hit with this kind of a mood I came out of it with huge bite marks and chlamydia.#and I haven't been feeling it nearly as bad this time so that's nice. more like a restless dog and less like a caged wolf thirsty for blood.#yes I'm making references to Call of the Wild again deal with it.#anyway sorry to anyone who sees this from the tags and not because you follow me. you didn't sign up for this lmao.#also. this is why I can't be a binary trans woman. this night photography shit is the most gay-man thing ever and I enjoy it.#I was doing it before my last boyfriend but he got me even more into it.#anyway bye I'm gonna go shower and then eat food. I've been hungrier more recently.#between the meds and the hrt my appetite is bigger and I'm gaining weight with the hrt fat redistribution which is cool and good.#I want to be a healthy weight and maybe even a lil chonky? we'll see we'll see.

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satans-knitwear · 2 years

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Baddest bitch in the grocery store. Other than my mom. Obvs.

Treat me ~ Tip me

#My mom can have the title of baddest bitch in the supermarket this morning. I'll allow that.#My sister is home rn as well so i have more cooking to do than usual bc she eats things my brother wouldnt touch #Not complaining tbh. I enjoy the cooking #The grocery shopping part of it is not fun tho #At least i feel like i look nice today.#Satans knitwear #bi girl #uk girl #wlw #Any help towards groceries and perhaps a little treat would be hugely appreciated and incredibly helpful 🥺💕💕

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im-a-chunky-potato · 5 months

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oooh, what's your top 3 ice cream flavors?

-🧡

(imma be anon for this. hope you won't get too too mad at me for this 🫣)

ooh okay! And you're fine no worries<3

Number 1 is cherry amaretto which is always my go to flavor, it's just really good.

Number 2 is pistachio, preferably without actual pistachio chunks in it. (On another note pistachio macaroons are the best!)

and Number 3 is cookie dough! It's super sweet and pretty much like 2 desserts in one, so i can't say no to that.

#This was surprisingly hard to answer hehe #Though that's mostly due to the fact I have a huge sweet tooth and just enjoy eating ice cream #But there's your answer Kel!#thanks for the ask!

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malo-mart · 1 year

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Not this article "I just learned bokoblins chat with their friends and now I feel bad for killing them" WHAT DO YOU MEAN???? they have dance parties!!! They cook around a campfire as a community! They sleep with a lookout!!! How are you just learning this now after 6 years?? I physically cannot bring myself to go near them while they're dancing. Let them celebrate, let them love and ritualise and enjoy their time together. My only consolation is that the blood moon will bring them together again and immortalise their time spent with one another 💞💞💞

#u might be thinkin hmmm this girl sounds a bit fucked in the head #uh yeah cuz i am #anyway im a huge HUGE bokoblin sympathiser #and also i dont hunt animals or kill them in botw abd it makes my gf sooooo mad #shes like THEYRE NOT REAL!!!!#and shes also like U EAT MEAT IRL #like yeah...but i dont HUNT AND KILL ANIMALS IRL #the wolves and the birds and the foxes are enjoying the breath of the wild just like me!

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delicateimage · 7 months

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Hey girlies update time… I’ve been sent to a clinic for my weight and it’s been really stressful and my life is kinda falling apart lol there’s defiantly good aspects to it but ughhh I’m like :( bc my diets had to change so much and I feel so unproductive now and I’m really scared about gaining weight but they’d said I’d like die or whatever if I didn’t which um. I genuinely feel so disgusting heavy and sick and disgusting and DISGUSTIGN eww and my disordered eating brain is coming back in full force after silently controlling me for like nearly years at this point and it’s all so much. the hardest thing about this is that I don’t want to gain weight at all and particularly I don’t really even care to live anymore. I’m scared everyday I’ll fall deeper and deeper back into disordered eating I’ll get lonelier and lonelier I’ll get fatter and fatter I’ll lose everything I’ve ever built for myself… ugh this is a mess but ong.

#it’s hard because I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging like HEYYYY I GOT HOSPITALOZED FOR BEING A SKINNY QUEEN YASS but omg I can’t #this is so sickening I feel so fat and disgusting there were two days where I could feel like I could eat the calorie count they gave me but #now I feel like a FAT FUCKING BEKUGA WHALE I feel like I gained 40 pounds in a day I feel so hulking and disgusting I’m eating so much ew #the self harming intentions came back because I lost my only form of control over my autonomy. I feel like there’s no other way for people #to hear me other than harming myself and depriving myself #I feel like such a waste #it’s like tomorrow I want to go back restrict restrict restrict restrict eat 5 calories exercise for an hour #but I just can’t.#I don’t have anyone to talk to because no one understands.#I feel so lost #the one thing I enjoyed about the diet change is the snack kinda… it gives me motivation to keep going.#everything is so stressful though and I don’t know how to encapsulate everything AT ALL ugh #I’m so tired and I just want to fall over and die already but… idk #I want to restrict really badly. I want to purge and fast again. I want to become anorexic. I was at to scream out and cry and say that I’m #hurting and I’m weak and I can’t take it anymore #ugh #omg I haven’t made a huge tumblr rant in months omg I haven’t USED tumblr really in months omg #my ED loves tumblr like girl hey

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the-monkey-ruler · 1 year

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I don't know how to explain this but the versions of JTTW feels weird when the Tang Monk has the power to defend himself right, and whole reason he argues with Sun Wukong is he want to stay a pacifist and hes powerless when dealing with monsters on the journey

I kinda like the different interpretations!! Personally, I think that there are some versions that make it really exciting having Sanzang as a fighter or at least can defend himself as it changes the dynamics of the group a bit, just enough to make it where the audience can see the same character but with slightly altered roles!

I know that it goes against the OG narrative but I think it kinda leans more into that kinda area of 'what ifs' where the reason Sanzang has Wukong, Bajie, and Wujing isn't that he needs protection but rather he generally wants to help them on their redemption. I know that's never every take when it comes to a fighting Sazang trope but I think it adds another layer of having new dynamics without taking away Sanzang's core elements of wanting to help others and being compassionate. I don't think having a character that can defend himself takes away his values of valuing life. If done well I think that it can be interesting to see someone that doesn't like violence still have the view that they understand certain circumstances cannot be avoided. Like Sanzang doesn't want Wukong to kill but he also never tells them to fight either, just to show mercy on their enemies and never go overboard, especially when they are far weaker them the overpowered yaoguai.

Of course, they aren't accurate but that is the fun of re-marks like that, and I think if done well can still have Sanzang's core traits of seeing good in everyone while having a more playful twist of dynamics in a media.

.....I'm mostly talking about Westward 西行纪 BUT I JUST LOVE THE CRAZINESS OF IT ALL! I'm not here for power structures, I'm here for character-driven narratives.

This Sanzang BENCH PRESSES demons, everyone else is just there for show. HE ALREADY GOT WARPED AROUND HIS FISTS HE READY.

What I'm trying to say it, I think if done right, it could be a really fun concept to play with but understandable if they just make him just a fighter and not a monk. A good "What if he was a Warrior Monk" but don't just make him a fighter.

#anonymous #anon #anon ask #jttw #journey to the west #xiyouji #tang sanzang #monk tripitaka #I can't help but enjoy when some media goes way different while still keeping the core traits of a character #I think that is a hard thing to sell considering that the characters are so set in their dynamics #But I'm not going to say it CAN'T be done well as I've seen it done a few good time in some media #one movie I saw had Sanzang with a huge back tattoo that was the suntras so that it was a last line of defense from demons trying to eat hi #honesly that was kinda badass #Another is where he like trying exorcise demons in conquering the demons where he can just do what Buddha did and just SLAM it down on them #It doesn't count as violence if it's a Buddha palm lmao it's insane #might just be my love for more bizarre but as long as the characters and story is good #ask

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