#almost feeling as though I have nothing to show for being Indian other than some features and my parent
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Somtimes life means you gotta just sit there and play through the entirety of Venba on your switch in one sitting and just. Feel the shrimp emotions
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lotusarchon · 3 months ago
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I had to make a whole google doc to sort my thoughts on this, that's how mad I am tbh. My friends have made explanations which you can find here, and here. And while I told myself that after that post I was done, seeing my friend receive a comment like this was the final pushing point I needed.
I'm both going to ramble about Nezha here again, and I'm going to try and explain this in a way that'll get people to understand, as someone who once followed an Eastern religion too + I'm going to be stating my basic thoughts here so maybe some things won't make sense.
Mild info about me: I'm from Trinidad. My family is described with East Indian descent but clearly, I'm not from India itself. My knowledge of Hinduism is rather basic because I quit religion thanks to traumatic experiences related to it, however not lacking fully. From my father's side, specifically his mother, they practice Hinduism and can even be considered devout Hindus (if I'm to believe all the statues and pictures of about almost every single Hindu god). Though my knowledge is basic, understand that I'm not Hindu nor Indian, so of course these are my opinions and my experiences with Hinduism, and I do not advise you taking my word fully to heart. I'm only trying to explain something to the LMK fandom in the best way I know how too, by referencing another Eastern religion that isn't half as popular as Daoism/Buddhism.
There's only one show I know where Hinduism is portrayed, and it's an anime/manga series called Record Of Ragnarok (Shuumatsu No Valkyrie), and from what I know it's not well liked by others (and even banned I think?) because of the fact Shiva is weaker than Zeus and the supposed sexualization of Parvati, Kali and Durga? It's been a while so I could be wrong on this though.
Why am I bringing this topic up to a rant about a lego character though?
#1) Fiction vs Religion and Reality
While one half expresses discontent and discomfort, I've seen others who clearly don't mind because Shiva is still badass and cool. I myself had some qualms about his appearance in the beginning because while I did quit religion, this was a god I used to worship, and seeing him in an anime/manga and be sexualized and simped for was…uncanny, to say the least. Overtime I grew numb to it though because it was genuinely funny and even I, an ex Hindu, found him attractive, and had not much hesitation writing smut about him in past fics. 
Similarly, I can imagine this is how Daoists and Chinese had originally felt about Nezha in Lego Monkie Kid [Only referencing LMK with Chinese deities. I'm aware there could be other media where they're in.] A bit weird at first but then overall got used to it because there's genuinely no harm done, as it's not meant to be an educational retelling of a god, but a fictional portrayal of him.
Returning to the point I mentioned with Shiva. When I first came across this series in 2021 (?), I did not feel too happy and comfortable with the image of a deity I've grown up worshipping as a child. I quit religion when I turned 13, so it's been nearly five years since I've had nothing to do with the main religion of my household; Hinduism. Still, I practically grew up worshipping this god I was taught to fear, and seeing a potrayal of him (which honestly in my opinion) didn't seem like a good thing at the time. 
Why did I eventually stop being bothered? Because this wasn't supposed to be retelling of Shiva. This was just a character with similarities to the god I worshipped, but wasn't the god. The series I watched wasn't even intending to teach audiences about any of the religions and real life figures they portrayed, they simply used them as inspiration to tell a story. They weren't accurate representations, but that was the point. It's a story about gods vs humans from history; of course it wasn't going to be accurate nor stay true to the figure they took inspiration from.
You can imagine then for a cartoon series meant to sell Legos. Lego Monkie Kid contains several characters that are known in Chinese myths and legends/religions. Of the most popular mentioned, there is Sun Wukong, one of the main characters in the series, Tang Sanzang otherwise known as Tripitaka and the Great Monk, Lady Guanyin mentioned in season 1, the one the fandom argues about, Nezha, the Jade Emperor in season 4, and most recently, Nuwa, and Heavenly Pagoda King, Li Jing. There may be others but these are the ones that are most known within the fandom. 
Mind you some of these figures are still very much worshipped now, but, point remains: the series was never intended to be a retelling of these characters stories, nor were they intended to be educational for audiences. They took inspiration directly, gave their own twists, and hence you have the story of LMK, meant to originally promote Legos and then eventually gave way to the series that this fandom belongs too.
These characters are not their source material, nor the origins of which they came from as religious figures. Sun Wukong is a Buddha within JTTW’s ends and if I'm right is still worshipped as such sometimes (?). He didn't hide away into a mountain at the end of his journey. His companions didn't die, nor were they reincarnated, but instead also acquired titles and became Buddhas as well. (Or gods? I frankly don't remember). Tang Sanzang as we've in season 4 was not some sort of brave, astute man in the book but rather a crybaby coward. Need I even point out that Nezha wouldn't have a giant mech to fight people, nor would he have such close deposition with the Jade Emperor? Or the fact that the Jade Emperor would be bested by someone like Azure Lion?
Not even counting Journey To The West and the Fengshen Yanyi, the real Tang Sanzang that Wu Cheng’en took inspiration of most certainly did not have a monkey, a pig, a water demon and a dragon turned horse with him on his journey. 
Why speak of all this?
To make my first point; religion and fiction are two very different things. Religion has existed for who knows how long, and fiction has recently decided to include fictional potrayals of these gods into stories and cartoons. From a writer's perspective, it's really interesting taking something that is a part of religion and writing it into your own works, with your own take on it.
And of course, brings me to the topic of Nezha.
Lego Monkie Kid Nezha is, according to an official writer within the show's team, an adult. Although many fans have their objections about this, supposedly because Nezha in other sources is a child god, and think that the writer only abruptly pointed out Nezha's an adult to save her own skin.
Taking all my points in consideration; let me humour the Nezha is a child god idea. What, exactly, does this have to do with Nezha in Monkie Kid? 
If Nezha, the god within Daoism and Buddhism, is supposedly a child deity, what law says that any other potryal of Nezha has to abide by this? 
By this logic. Shiva in the anime I mentioned above shouldn't be weaker than Zeus. He also shouldn't even be agreeing to fight mortals, as he's a deity far above such petty behavior. Zeus shouldn't be portrayed in books like PJO as a lecherous cheater, because in reality, Ancient Greece consisted of multiple kingdoms and thereby different interpretations of Zeus were merged together which is what consists of the myths we know of him today which is highly disrespectful, and Sun Wukong shouldn't be a mentor to MK, because he's supposed to be a Buddhist, and thereby wouldn't be entertaining fighting nuances.
Fiction doesn't not adhere to reality. The fact I need to say this astounds me because should this not be obvious? Lego Monkie Kid is a cartoon set in some sci-fi futuristic world with lego people walking around, where gods somehow need mechs to go around fighting, and there are animal-like demons/yaoguai walking around here and there. There is literally an arcade in the show with zero gravity. Do you possibly believe for a miniscule second that anything that goes down in a fictional setting will adhere to our reality??
And, even then, humouring the Nezha being a child deity concept > what law says that he has to be portrayed as a child in other pieces of fiction?? Especially when the fictional setting is not meant to be a retelling or for educational purposes, but rather to carry a plot. 
There is nothing, no law, no rules that insists that a religious figure must be portrayed as they are in a legend/myth for a fictional world.
Lego Monkie Kid Nezha is not the deity Nezha. He is a completely different character, which many of you should have realized from the exact moment he was brought into the show. They are not the same person. Never was. 
“Oh, it's disrespectful―” From a writer's perspective, I personally don't think so. If I wanted to make a story that involved a god, I wouldn't keep everything that makes that god who they are. There are some key points I would keep to make the story, but I would ultimately create an OC that shares some attributes to this religious figure, but it wouldn't be him. The show Record of Ragnarok does a good job with this in my opinion, because while many characters share some attributes to the real figures they're inspired by, the writers changed several things to create a proper story, and thereby making these characters OCs and not the actual gods themselves, and of course that logic applies to Lego Monkie Kid.
In the instance, again, Nezha the god from Daoism, is in fact a child deity, Nezha in LMK isn't. Nezha in LMK is someone who's entirely different from the god himself. 
So, the logic this fandom uses confuses me a lot. Do you not understand how to seperate fiction from religion?? Do many of you not understand media literacy, and what a writing process is like?
Sigh. Moving to another point―
#2) Character Designs
Sometimes, when it comes to character designs, anyone could just throw them into anything and think, “Yeah that's good.” Not much thought is given to a character's appearances depending, which I don't really blame as someone who's 1) done literature as a hobby and has seen my fair share of character designs, 2) creates characters myself. It's too hard thinking of a character's appearance, and even then when making them there normally wouldn't be any significance.
Nezha's design in LMK seems to be a huge source of debate when arguing about his age. It was actually brought up in my previous post, specifically that his hairstyle was often used by children at the time. 
I have a bone to pick with this point.
This is Nezha from Lego Monkie Kid:
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However, this is Mei from the same show:
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Before anyone starts, allow me to point out as a history geek that likes religion and pointless facts over politics: I am aware that there are different hairstyles to show certain things, including one's age and status and sometimes even personality. Do not bring up any points about the differences in these characters hairstyles with an excuse, “Oh, but you should know―”, because I know how hairstyles could be treated within history. 
However. Look at Nezha's hairstyle, and then Mei's. I've never seen the LMK fandom complain about Mei's age, because it was generally believed that MK and Mei are both at least 18 if not older, as the legal age for a driver's license in China is 18. 
Both Nezha and Mei are wearing a ‘bun’ type hairstyle. Mei's is arguably more of twin ponytails (?), but I'm not a hairstylist, so I don't know what they're called. To me they look similar, that's all I'm trying to say. And even if they weren't though―through a modern lense, a hairstyle isn't reserved for just any specific age. Anyone can wear a hairstyle they want. Keep in mind that the creators of LMK are also Western(?), and they chose a hairstyle for these two characters based on personality and appearances. 
A hairstyle is not reserved for any age. Grown women including my aunts have worn hairstyles similar to these just for fun.
That's point one.
Point two; Nezha is a very popular deity, much like Sun Wukong. In terms of recognition, Sun Wukong is very easy to recognize because of his staff and his overall cocky personality. 
Nezha however is an entirely different case. Most media potrayals of him always has the two-bun hairstyle of him, which is what makes Nezha recognizable. If you remove that specific hairstyle of his, you won't recognize him. It's iconic, and pointed out in this scene (The Legend of Hei) where Nezha makes an appearance as well.
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[Characters sitting together. White haired boy (Hei + MC) looks at the older, dark haired boy (Nezha). Nezha looks back.]
Nezha: What? You want an autograph?
Hei: You're a boy?
Nezha: Yeah?
Hei: Your hairstyle is cute.
[Nezha looks in front with an annoyed expression.]
Nezha: If it weren't for the recognizability, I'd have changed it long ago.
Hei: Recognizability?
[Nezha removes the buns(? some form of them?) from his head. Three older figures glance at him.]
???: Who are you?
[Scene returns]
Nezha: See?
Aka, point being made: those buns are what makes Nezha recognizable. If he doesn't have that hairstyle, unless it's specifically pointed out, I'm certain majority would not recognize him. 
Some hairstyles are meant to be done for some form of meaning. But sometimes, as is the case with designs, they're just there just because no one wanted to make the characters bald. Using the excuse about Nezha's hairstyle to justify his age as a child is by far the lamest and dumbest excuse I've ever heard of, because the creators did not give him that hairstyle for the sake of some meaning anymore than MK was given his current hairstyle either. It's his logo at this point, ignoring his color scheme aside.
Even then, if the creators of Lego Monkie Kid intended for Nezha to be a child within the show, he would not appear as he is. Lego Monkie Kid has made children models, which we can see here (used from s3 and up in case someone tries to excuse the differences in seasons): 
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And of course, Nezha's model;
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Despite the perspective and low quality though, he's at least the same height as Red Son here:
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If Lego Monkie Kid truly intended for Nezha to be a child, his appearance and model would be similar to the children's in the show. Perspective is difficult to find but you can clearly see he's about the same height as the other adult characters if not taller, and is not small like the child figures we see.
Pink isn't a children's color, and nothing about Nezha's clothing indicates a child. He very much looks like an adult and doesn't exhibit childish behavior as we see Red Son, Mei and MK do.
I've seen fans use his voice to point out he's an adult, but I'm not sure that's a valid point. I say this as someone who has a 13 year old brother and was recently a minor myself. 
Allow me to clarify: a voice isn't a clear proof of age. My father is a 45 year old man but sounds very much like a woman/teenage girl. My brother is 13 and sounds more of an adult than his father. My classmate in highschool was one year older than me and his voice was very high-pitched. 
The voice actors in LMK are directed to speak a certain way for a reason…in English. I'm not sure about Mandarin. In my opinion, Wukong's voice sounds like Son Goku's because it's a reference to the fact Wukong is what inspired Goku. Nezha's probably sounds deep and brooding not because he's a child but because it almost represents his own personality, and probably is a reference from another shonen protagonist Ichigo Kurosaki. MK's voice in the beginning sounds really childish to me but slowly as the events of s3, 4 and 5 happen it gets more deeper almost as a reference to show how his ‘innocence’ is slowly fading. 
Or, I might be looking to into it. Regardless, tdlr, don't use Nezha's voice in your argument. I've seen grown ass men have high pitched voices. 
Returning to my original point however; if you have an ounce of media literacy and understanding, you should be aware that some character designs are chosen for a reason. Nezha's icon is those two bun hairstyle, and the writers purposely chose it so old fans/readers of JTTW and FSYY and maybe other Chinese/Daoists would be able to recognize him and go, “Hey, that's Nezha from―”
Before I got into LMK, I read JTTW and also saw The Legend of Hei and the Nezha 2019 movie, so I knew him because of the hairstyle. And my first instinct of course was to point out, “That's the dude from TLOH!!” when I saw him. So, the hairstyle was chosen for the recognizability, and I highly doubt as a sign of age.
Even then, LMK Nezha aside, moving on to a different point.
#3) Sources Of Inspiration
The 21st century isn't really the first era where people are taking inspiration from other cultures. As a matter of fact, it's been happening for decades, and it's very prominent in religion, which someone of you would know if you both a) actually did proper research, b) gave a shit about what you're researching and c) studied history.
Hilariously, I have done all three of the above. 
I'm going to use a popular example here with Sun Wukong and Hanuman. Hinduism is supposedly largely considered one of the oldest religions in the world. If you truly think about it, certain Daoist deities are loosely inspired or are versions of Hindu gods, which I'm going to use here with a popular example (and provide a link too).
― Sun Wukong and Hanuman. The earliest Vedic records mention one of the supposed known monkey gods, and their similarities make scholars suggest Hanuman inspired Sun Wukong. Specifically his figure in JTTW, where it's speculated that the author must've had a copy of Vedic (?) hymns. While Sun Wukong does predate JTTW, Hanuman definitely has had some influence on him.
Much, much similarly, the deity known as Nezha, is also loosely inspired/based off the figure known as Nalakuvara, who appears in Hindu and Buddhist mythology, and often appears as a sexual trickster figure in Hindu and Buddhist literature.
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Historically speaking, when it comes to religion and myths, something many people fail to understand is that before there was the idea of writing to tell a story, there was the process known as sharing from mouth to ear. Not in a literal sense, but rather that people often preferred to tell stories via word of mouth back then, and as things always go in history, there will be changes. The proof is literally right there. Nezha was originally known as Nalakuvara, yet when transmitted through Buddhist texts, he became known as Nazha, then Nezha. And as such, the Lotus Prince and Chinese god known as Nezha was created. A combination of Nalakuvara and the child god Krishna.
A lot of people will want to jump on that specific point that mentions Krishna being a child god, so allow me to immediately put you down right there.
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Ex Hindu here; I did not even know there was a portrayal of Krishna as a child. Up until I stopped practicing Hinduism, I used to worship Krishna as an adult figure. In the paintings and statues my aunts had for Diwali as a child, he was always showcased as an adult.
Ironically, doesn't this apply for the actual god Nezha too? 
When it comes to religion and myths, many of you forget something very important; there is no such thing as a canon iteration. These aren't shows, these are stories from the past told through different people, and passed through many hands. There is no such thing as a canon version because almost everyone had their own version of a myth or story. Terms you may typically apply to fandoms don't apply to fucking religions and myths, and some of you are so chronically online that you forget it.
#4) The LMK Fandom's Chronically Online Attitude
I'm an ex Hindu who still faintly remembers some bits and pieces from my childhood while practicing this religion, especially during the Diwali period, where little me managed to get new information from library books about the gods my family worshipped. I personally didn't like sitting during the priest's (forgot what he was called) chanting though but the funny white thingy we used to have to wear was fun. 
There are some Hindu gods I'm familiar with, like Lakshmi, Kali, Durga and the other versions of her (I still can't recover from the one statue with her in a fish..) Parvati, Shiva, Vishnu, Hanuman (yaah), Rama and Sita, Ganesh (also yah) and of course, Krishna.  I also have watched my fair share of childhood movies and cartoons where the gods were mentioned or present―Karan & Arjun specifically struck the fear in me with Kali 😭😭 holy fuck that movie scared me with the creepy edits jeez T-T. There was also that one cartoon about Rama and Sita”s story specifically Hanuman, and this Indian TV series where this little girl was a loyal devotee to Ganesha (I had no idea rats were one of his uh signature animals holy shit).
I'm rambling here a bit because the childhood memories were fun, but the point I'm going for is though….
I am familiar with these gods I grew up with. And I know about them, maybe not enough but certainly enough to know how to properly respect them from back then. 
And, using Krishna as a prime example; if someone came up to me, or I came across anyone, who argues that the god I know is an immortal child, even though I have worshipped and adult version of him, I'd be so fucking pissed. Krishna is seen as an adult, I worshipped him as an adult, but there are cases where he's a child god, and that's fine! But to have someone tell you that you're wrong about the god you know about because they got some basic information off the internet, undoubtedly, I'm going to be pissed. Especially when it's from a Western fan who has no fucking brain.
So, of course, imagine how devotees of Nezha and Chinese people must be feeling every single time this fandom fucks about with Nezha's age. I saw it myself; people told my friend that a) she was lying and b) her statement is irrelevant just because “I did my proper research, and even if you're Chinese you can still be a proshipper, Nezha's a child deity.”
It's genuinely so fucked up to me how the LMK fandom act towards Nezha's age. You guys will ignore the people who are willing to provide accurate information for the sake of being in the right and accusing people for being a proshipper over a deity they have more experience with than you, a Western fan who has no knowledge of Eastern religion.
It's insane. There are actual Daoist and Chinese who are pointing out the fact Nezha isn't an immortal fucking child. 
You're not only disrespectful, you insane, childish and most importantly chronically online. Nezha the god isn't a fictional character, there's nothing ‘canon’ about him. He's a god who's lived for decades longer than you, and his existence predates yours. People have long sinced worshipped Nezha, and the fact that you can so boldly tell someone they're wrong about the god they've worshipped is so disrespectful.
Do you not realize, as Nezha is worshipped as a child, he's worshipped as an adult? Do you not take into account how absolutely disgusting and horrible you are telling Daoists and Chinese who have stated time and time again the information of Nezha being an immortal child is factually incorrect that they're wrong and know nothing??
I'm repeating my statement; I'm an ex Hindu, but if anyone told me that Krishna's an immortal child too and then point out I'm wrong and my point doesn't matter, I would be seething. And I don't blame my friend who's losing their temper about Nezha's age. 
What amazes me though, somehow, is the fact that. If anyone who was Chinese + Daoist agreed with your claims, as Cole from Twitter once did, none of you would've spoken that way to my friend. But of course, once she points out she's Chinese/ex Daoist and disagrees with you, majority of the opinions switched because, she wasn't agreeing with your headcanon, right? So even though she's Chinese, she's bad because she disagreed with you.
You're all disgusting and fucking weird.
And the fact y'all in this fandom will habitually prove yourselves as hypocrites by attacking people, and then ignoring the ones who are capable of proving you're wrong to cling to a false idea is insane. You guys need some actual help, holy fucking shit. 
Nezha isn't an immortal child. That's a god. If he was intended to be a child in LMK, there would've been statements about it. 
Seperate fiction from religion, and seperate your headcanon from canon and the actual god. If you think this biased headcanon is okay and attacking people that point you out for being wrong is somehow okay, I sincerely ask that you take a break from the internet, and read a book.
No, don't just read a book. Read a history book. Pick up some knowledge, understand how religion and history works. 
Furthermore. The research some of you guys are doing is actually shit, by the way. You guys aren't researching properly if you can pull up with Nezha is 12, thing. If you actually cared about his age, you'd put more effort and actually stop being disrespectful to the people who are giving you the proper information. You only research surface level so you can attack people.
And additionally, stop playing the Devil's advocate. Most of you are just Western fans who think you know everything from reading one book or watching one show. You read JTTW or watch OSP’s videos and suddenly, you know more than an actual Chinese person or Daoist. You look up Wikipedia and think, “Oh yeah, I'll go with this!” And that's it. Most of you at best can provide only three websites at most, and I can bet my ass that these websites with information about Nezha's age was written by a fan who got their information from a shit source.
I love History, and most specifically, I love religion. Not so much the divine aspects as it is about the myths that surround it. Whenever I get into a fandom, I need to find out more about their religion and history. Getting into JTTW, and eventually, LMK, pushed me into a rabbit hole of Chinese myths that I really enjoy learning. But dealing with idiots who think they know more?? It's sickening as shit.
I'd like to think I'm good at literature things because once it's a religion or myth I want to learn everything about it. But I know I don't know everything, and I know especially I have more to learn. I'd never tell someone who is a part or worships the religion/culture I'm learning that they're factually incorrect about it just because I have an opinion and I learnt my info from a random source.
You guys in the LMK fandom are incredibly entitled. The Nezha is 12 controversy is a headcanon, which became worst by that asshat Cole on Twitter. And because so many of you don't want to learn the truth, whenever someone tries to point out and help you, you ignore them or attack them, and deny their heritage.
And honestly?? You guys suck. 
And this is coming from me!! Some of y'all are grown ass adults too!! And yet I'm childish and immature!?!
Brother I literally turned 18 a few months ago, yet I'm 100% certain I'm not throwing a blasted hissy fit over a fucking god the way some of you all who are most definitely adults are doing.
And finally, the one thing that actually does make me laugh is because I'm pretty sure most of you didn't do History classes. One of the most important things my history teacher taught me is; don't use Wikipedia as a source of viable information. Thousands of people are capable of accessing Wikipedia and changing information as they want, and so it's much better to find book solid resources from libraries. I did in fact use Wikipedia too (hypocritical of me yeah) so of course I wouldn't advise using the screenshots I provided from Wikipedia as evidence to the argument, because anything on Wikipedia can be changed. If I'm feeling extra petty I could change something myself to be in the right.
Furthermore, if you dare to bring up only JTTW and FSSY as a plausible argument about Nezha's age, I'm genuinely going to throw hands and fuck your mother. I think my friend also mentioned it in their posts but I'll mention it here too; JTTW does NOT state Nezha's age. I've read JTTW, and aside from Wukong vs Nezha there's nothing else that states Nezha's age. For all we're aware of, Wukong called Nezha a kid just out of spite, and I do it too when I'm arguing with someone. FSSY is the Investiture of the Gods and the ORIGINS!! Do you THINK a book about the ORIGINS of the gods would focus on other aspects about them!!? No!!
I expect some of the arguments I might get are;
"Oh, Nezha [appearances] could be wearing a glamor!" That is a headcanon, as we see nothing in LMK to refute that. Macaque's scar is canon because it's shown within the show. Nezha's appearance has NOT fluctuated since he was introduced. The idea of him using a glamor or illusion is a HEADCANON unless proven by the show. And headcanons are NOT vital.
"But you use Wikipedia too :(" Which I pointed out and made aware of, which is I also doubt that source myself. If any of you did History, your teachers are supposed to INFORM you that using a website is NOT a good idea for backing up information, and it's much better to use books or other trusted sources. In the case of Nezha, I'm trusting actual Daoists/Chinese who knows more about him than I do. It's because I did PROPER research that I even came across a good source of information, aka @ruibaozha, who I'm sure can share more light on this than me! The fact that some of you guys won't even acknowledge them is almost proof that...you're clinging to a headcanon. Jackass.
"But Nezha in JTTW/FSSY are 7/12 and that's where LMK takes it's inspiration from so obviously―" We've seen for a fact LMK does NOT follow JTTW to the letter. Jade Emperor beating Wukong?? Lady Bone Demon being a powerful foe and being trapped in a bunker? Azure even being able to kill the Emperor? Majority of the LMK fandom likes to point out that LMK Macaque and JTTW Macaque are two different people, especially when you claim that Macaque is a bad character because he cannibalized the monkeys. So then, with this logic, JTTW Nezha, FSSY Nezha, and LMK Nezha are also three seperate figures. I swear someone made a post about the differences JTTW and FSSY Nezha have too, but I can't find it so meh. The point still remains though. LMK Nezha are two different people, you're not making any sense to me about that argument. Even then, LMK isn't taking direct inspiration and putting their own twist. Who says anything needs to be accurate??
"The writer only said Nezha's an adult to ship lotuspeach!" Are you faintly aware people, actual Chinese people, have shipped these characters together? Proshippers can come from anywhere but I genuinely doubt every single person is a proshipper because of course, they're aware their god isn't an eternal child. On top of that, in a situation like this another writer would point out that Nezha ISN'T an adult. No one has argued against this claim, so why persist? Where's your logic coming from if not entitlement?
I want this to be the last time I have to talk about Nezha, because I made my blog to write porn and me smooching my favorite LMK characters. I kinda don't really like making discussions like this because that's not the point of my blog.
However...I do like rambling. A lot :)))
Anyways, point blank. LMK fandom needs to grow out of this entitled mindset and stop ignoring the facts from experts. You guys are just being annoying at this point.
My argument isn't really valid tbh, just pointless rambling because I only know basic information. I think you guys should find proper information from accounts online.
Also, if you're gonna argue: don't bring be albeist, racist etc etc. I'm capable of cussing you out without bringing up your mental health, race or identity :)))
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darkdevasofdestruction · 5 months ago
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Chapter 4 - Comfort Me
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Due to the unexpectedly thick fog, the Stardust Crusaders were forced to stop by the little town below their road and hope that, by the next day, it will dissipate and clear their vision. They still had such a long road ahead of them. Holly's life was on the line and they couldn't stall... Though, Kisara thought, the town looked even more succumbed to the mystifying fog. How peculiar. As the girl kept her head rested on Jotaro's shoulder, her eyes hooded and almost half asleep, she saw something that made her gasp and straighten up - Was that a dog, impaled on a spike? It couldn't be, could it? No way that could happen!  She turned her head to look back, feeling her heart beating faster with fear - Then she felt her hand being held gently. Jotaro looked at her, and despite not sharing any word of concern, the sentiment was shared. He, too, must have seen the same worrying thing that she did. A grim omen for what was to happen.
When finally they reached down into the town, it looked like some kind of horror-movie set. Was it a ghost town? A haunted town? Whatever it was, Kisara hated it to the core. Joseph, however, seemed to like that there were so many buildings, estimating at least a thousand civilians living in that place - But where were they hiding?  They got out of the car, going to the restaurant, as there was a guard standing there and looking blankly at them. As Joseph correctly greeted the man, he only flipped the board, showing the restaurant was closed for them; And when he turned around to disappear inside the building, Kisara could clearly see two large cockroaches roaming around the back of his neck. Based on Mr. Joestar's reaction also, he must have been thinking he was seeing peculiar things also.
The girl hugged herself and stuck next to her brother to seek some comfort; This whole town must be cursed or something, it felt evil, and that feeling was simply reinforced by the guy which Polnareff found, sitting in a corner - He had a look of horror on his face, and when he fell off to the ground, long-dead, salamanders crawled out of his mouth. He was holding a gun which was still smoking; It must have been fired five minutes prior at most, just right before they arrived in town - Yet, the question stand - Why didn't they hear anything?  
Unable to discern the cause of death as anything other than a stroke or a heart attack, and incapable of coming up with an answer as to what he was shooting at, Kakyoin tried to reach out to a woman with her two children, but she couldn't be communicated with, and those festering boils on her face kept bubbling over with pus the more she scratched them. It was disgusting, seeing her peel her flesh off, and the poor boy felt like vomiting. What the hell was with the people of this town? A person is lying on the ground, dead, yet nobody seems to be the slightest bit concerned. 
Even more peculiar than that, was the dog staring at them. Kisara lightly tugged on Jotaro's sleeve, and he seemed to be rather concerned for their well-being also. They just saw that dog, dead and on a spike - How is it here, alive and well, then? It made no sense. In fact, nothing from this damn town made sense. The whole damn fog was demonic.
"You don't think it's the work of another Stand user, do you?" Jotaro asked, crouching by the cadaver's side, next to his grandpa.  "Probably not. There's no motive." Joseph grumbled. "I think it is, actually." Kisara noted. "Everything about this place is unsettling. The fog, the town, the people. There's something wrong here." "Would someone who's after us kill someone before we even get here?" the old man asked. "There's no reason for a Stand user to kill him." "Let's at least see if we can figure out a cause of death or something." Kakyoin sighed, looking down at the corpse uncomfortably. 
Using a pen, Joseph fumbled about the body, and found out he might have been a traveling Indian, based on the money he was carrying. Once he dragged his shirt down, he noticed a hole the size of a ten-yet coin right under his throat - But as Jotaro asked, why was there no blood? Frowning, Kisara ripped the body's shirt, revealing a lot more holes in his body. Though Joseph scolded her for tempering with evidence, she simply scoffed. "Do you really think there is any police that would come?"  "He looks like the cartoon cheese on Tom & Jerry!" Polnareff cried out in shock.  "All holes look to have the exact same circumference." Kisara noted, leaning closer. "Not even a drop of blood. They look like they were exsanguinated." "How is it even possible to kill someone like that?!" Joseph's question had an unspoken answer - An Enemy Stand User was on their tail. "Be careful. If there wasn't a Stand user here before, you can bet there's one here now." as if on cue, Joseph tried to jump a spiked gate and almost got himself deathly impaled in it, under the pretext that he saw it as their car. Could the fog create hallucinations? "Guys, I say we get the hell out of here. This is very dangerous." Kisara tried to warn, but an old woman, and interestingly enough, the sole inhabitant of this town with which they could actually hold a conversation, slowly made her way in front of the party, inviting them to her hotel. No matter how terrified she was, she couldn't part from the group, so reluctantly, she, too, agreed to go with them. 
"Here, master Joestar, the hotel is this way. I'll lead the way. Please follow me." the old woman smiled kindly at them, but Kisara could only raise her eyebrow at her, clutching Jotaro's sleeve; a habit she shamefully developed over the journey. "Master Joestar... Interesting." she muttered to the boy. "Just 20 years ago, one of those 007 films was shot at this small hotel. John Lennon from The Beatles also stayed here once." she tried to advertise light heartedly. "Whoa?! Really?!" Polnareff gasped in shock. "No, not at all." she giggled playfully. "But I like to think I run a nice hotel. We currently have no other guests staying with us. Will meat for dinner be fine with you? Or would you prefer fish?" she kept rambling politely, but Jotaro was having none of it. "Hold it, old lady. Just now, I heard you say 'Mr. Joestar'. Where did you hear that name?" he asked, voicing Kisara's shared suspicions. "Come now, sir! That person there said Mr. Joestar just moments ago!" she laughed simply. "Me? I did? Well, I could have..." Frenchie trailed off, trying to think about it. "You certainly did! When you've been in customer service for many years, you pick up on people's names quickly. You certainly do!" she grinned widely, innocently, which made Kisara even more nervous to be around her, while Jotaro knew he had to find a way to get the truth out of her. "Ma'am, may I ask what happened to your left hand?" the silver haired man asked. "Oh, this? I just burnt it a little... It's probably because of my old age, but I accidentally spilled boiled water on it." she laughed carefree. "Old age? What are you talking about? You don't look a day over 40! I might even ask you on a date!" Polnareff tried to be funny with her, to which she laughed bashfully. "Please don't tease me like that, sir!" 
The inside of the hotel actually looked rather incredibly and beautiful, all things considered. With everyone rooming by themselves, they all had to write their names in the book, before the old woman was to show them their chambers. Being the last one to sign, Kisara couldn't help but smile a little, seeing their fake names. Kakyoin Tenmei. Kujo Qtaro. How adorable. What should she write her name as? Ah, yeah, she's got such an original idea, it almost made her laugh.  Kakyoin Yuria - Yuria, the fiancee of Kenshiro from Hokuto no Ken. Omae wa mou shindeiru. How funny!
Whilst Polnareff went to the bathroom, the others gathered in Joseph's room to try using Hermit Purple on the TV - Unfortunately, no matter was Nori did, the TV wasn't working at all. It was time to rest fir the night, at least a little bit. Kisara especially doubted she'd be able to actually sleep any time soon; Not with how eerie the place was. 
Laying on the bed, she was lost in thought, looking up at the ceiling. "Don't worry." Marilyn let herself out, sitting on the edge of the bed. "JoJo." "JoJo? You want me to go to JoJo?" Kisara gasped at the audacity of her Stand's proposal, earning a nod and the same tender smile on her face. "You are going to kill me with embarrassment!" "Happy." Marilyn placed her hand over her heart "You... Are happy? When you're around Jotaro and Star?" Marilyn nodded. "I..." Kisara found herself smiling also. "I am happy with them also."
As if he was summoned, through the wall separating her room from Jotaro's, a specter protruded half-way through, and he smiled, waving at them. Though Kisara was surprised to see Star being as cheeky as Marilyn, no doubt coming over all on his own, she couldn't help but smile and wave him over. It truly was wholesome, seeing how adorable Marilyn and Star were, sitting on the edge of the bed and just smiling at each other.
A knock on the door captured her attention; She called out for the person to enter, and Jotaro's silhouette was revealed. The brim of his hat was tipped, covering the embarrassed expression betraying his emotions, seeing his naughty stand pull off such an embarrassing thing. "Here to join our tea party?" the boy scoffed at Kisara's comment, and the two Stands disappeared.  "I wanted to investigate the place. Star just went ahead of me." he grumbled, looking away from the girl. "Then, would you mind some company?" she cheekily asked, shooting up to her feet, stepping up in front of him. From her height, looking up, she noticed the faint blush covering his cheeks. "Do whatever you want." he huffed, abruptly turning on his heel to exit the room. "All right... CUTEaro." the boy's body froze on the spot. "You really are cute." her teasing humming only further embarrassed the boy. "Yare Yare..."
The whole hotel was filled with nothing but silence, from all the way up on the third floor where they had their rooms, and down to the entrance lobby. It looked even more eerie as it was. Jotaro opened the room, stepping forward first; He kept his hands buried in his pants pockets, his eyes as sharp as always, analysing every inch of this mysterious and bizarre building. He had to keep constantly on the edge, expect the unexpected, and always be prepared for a surprise attack. No one was safe, no one was in the clear; Anyone and anything could be an enemy ready to sever the thin string of their life.
From the other room, the old woman entered the lobby also, panting a little - Had she been startled by their sudden appearance? Or was she hiding something that they weren't supposed to see? "Oh, you startled me! You must learn how to knock, young dearies." her smile seemed overly forced, even for one working in customer service and was required to be polite; Not only that, she seemed shaken up and exhausted.  "Is that so? I thought this was the lobby." Kisara hummed, feigning innocent confusion. "Well, never mind that, Miss Kisara - What can I do for you?" the old woman's voice was shaky, the vibrato of her tone seemingly dubious.  "We are here looking for Polnareff." Jotaro gruffed sternly. "And I did known. Maybe you didn't hear because you were too busy doing something else, grandma." "Why, yes, I do know exactly where Mr. Polnareff is, Mr. Jotaro." the old woman stepped towards them, turning to point towards a door. "He is in the bathroom, Mr. Jotaro." "Of course he is." Jotaro sighed; His suspicions were correct, the old hag was suspicious - After all, how could she know their names, if she wasn't one of Dio's lackeys? "This door, is it?" Kisara carefully hung behind, her arm protectively wrapped in a rather casual manner around the boy's waist - She suspected the old woman, and with this proximity, the passive shield constantly protecting her could care for him also.  "Yes, yes - It's the last door at the end of the hall." the grandma's voice slurred a little, thinking she had won.  Just before Jotaro touched the doorknob; Just before Enyaba could rip him to shreds with her hidden sharp scissors; Jotaro spoke again, hindering her advances on his life. "What's the matter, grandma?" "S-So close..." Enya was on the ground, panting hard and staring with horror at the scissors which almost caused her demise. "Close, huh? You shouldn't run around with scissors like that, at your age. Good thing you weren't hurt." Jotaro dramatically stroked his chin, bending a little at the waist. "You're pretty lucky." "Speaking of luck - I had a curiosity, if you'd be so kind to answer." Kisara's sweet smile felt poisoned to the old woman. "Why did you call me 'Kisara'?"  "And you called me 'Jotaro' also." the boy stared down harshly at their host. "I never told you my name, and no one has called me by my name. I find that strange." Jotaro's comment struck hard. "Well? Come on, tell me. Maybe it's because I watched Columbo as a kid, but it's little details like that that keep me up at night." he truly was adorable, Kisara thought to herself, barely able to stifle a chuckle.  "Y-You're beginning to hurt this old lady's feelings!" she coughed, exaggerated, as if to show off her old age and frailty. "It's the guestbook! You wrote your name in the guestbook!" she hacked some more. "You wrote 'Kujo Jotaro' and 'Kakyoin Kisara'." she seemed so proud of her witty answer. "Is that so?" Kisara giggled, as the boy took the guestbook out of his pocket, showing off the names written. "My name is Yuria - At least for today. And he is CUTEaro." Jotaro glared at her harshly for a second, before turning his gaze back at the frantic old woman.  "Not 'Jotaro' nor 'Kisara' are written anywhere." her soft tremble made it even more obvious that she was guilty. "I was onto you when you said 'Joestar' the first time we met. I told the others not to use our real names, and yet, you knew it - Which could only mean you're the Stand user after us, you old hag." Watching the old woman hiss like that on the ground, fog surrounding her, put Kisara on high alert. "Well? Ready for a fight or what?" 
From behind them, a bunch of people with the same coin-like holes in their bodies jumped to assault them ; Thankfully, JoJo was as highly prepared as always and reacted with instant reflexes. Star punched all of them to a pulp while Marilyn kept them safe. With incredible strength, Jotaro's Stand managed to throw all of assailants out of the building, through the large windows of the lobby, glass shards shooting everywhere.
With another tense silence hanging over them, save for Enya's chattering teeth, Kisara carefully stepped away from her friend, and towards Polnareff, who was toppled over on the ground with... Hol Horse? Well, what a coincidence. They looked absolutely petrified with fear and panic, and worse - Frenchie's tongue was painfully punctured by the old hag's Stand and could barely speak - But the enemy turned friend spoke in his stead, giving away information of Enya's Stand power - It seems she was pretty angry on him for leaving her son to be killed. What an interesting turn of event. He claims the Stand made of fog can split the circular wound right open and control your body like a marionette, as it happened to all the dead people, and even him. Out of anger, the old woman forced the cowboy to punch himself in the face so he would shut the hell up.
"JoJo!" Kisara turned around abruptly, but it was too late; In the few seconds she was away from the boy, away from the shield, Jotaro's leg got pierced by the sharp tongue of a baby. "You can't fight her fog! We need a plan!" she rushed to his side. "And I've got just the plan." he smirked, leaning on her shoulder smugly. "Before the old hag takes another breath, I'll defeat that Stand." he declared boldly.  "Eh? What was that? Before I do what? You rotten little shit head!" Enya grimaced angrily, though she cackled, sure that there was no way she could ever be defeated. Jotaro's Star Platinum was inhaling Justice's fog and keeping it in his lungs, causing the old hag to reach asphyxiation and faint on the spot. What an insane strategy - Only someone as insane as Jotaro could think of something like that. "Looks like her head is in a bit of a fog." "That was such a dad joke." Kisara covered her giggle with her hand. "Yare Yare..." he smirked, looking away. "You still laughed." "Yeah." she breathed out softly. "You are very funny."
The two had a few more seconds to bask in the afterglow of their victory and the comfort of each other's company, before the great commotion from the fight called her brother and Mr. Joestar down to the lobby, where they were briefed in on the whole mess that transpired, with everyone present adding their own little bits to the now completed puzzle. 
"So... Polnareff... Did you have fun at the bathroom with Hol Horse?" Kisara smirked, teasing him. "What did you even lick?" Joseph asked, just as amused. "Why the hell do you even care what I've been licking? Quit asking stupid questions! ... The Toilet ..." he declared at the end, between subtle, loud coughs. "Ehhh? You were licking WHAT now~? I didn't quite hear that!" Joseph put his hand to his ear, wanting to hear that again. "Who even cares now?! I want to disinfect my tongue! Just get me some medicine!" Polnareff kept bitching around. "I'm pretty sure I heard someone say 'Toilet'." Kakyoin spoke with a bewildered frown, making Joseph turn around to the siblings, chuckling and whispering in their ears like a giggling prankster school boy. "Actually, I already know, but I can't resist messing with him!" he couldn't contain his laughter at all. "Hey! Did Jotaro already tell you?! You fucking old geezer! He's messing with me! Forget about the medicine!" Polnareff blushed, cursing and walking away. "All right, all right, my bad!" Joseph laughed, putting his hands up in defeat. "Okay, but you should have seen him! So hilarious! Polnareff and toilets really don't go together!" Kisara laughed with him, feeling tears prickle at their eyes from all the laughter. "I'll fix you right up, Polnareff! It'll get infected if we don't take care of it!.... Toilet licker ... You licked it real good..." Joseph said between coughs, which made the both of them laugh even harder, only for Kakyoin to sigh at their childishness. "Goddamnit! Let's get back to our journey! Jotaro! Double Kakyoin!" Polnareff yelled, even redder with shame. "Everyone, come outside. Look." Jotaro spoke from outside, and the party noticed the fog lifting, revealing tons of tombstones.
It was then that they realised the fog was, as suspected, the cause of their previous hallucinations, and the whole town was a huge graveyard spot, and illusion, and they truly have been speaking to cadavers all along. Well, they shouldn't linger too long on such things, they have their own journey to continue; Though Hol Horse stole their car, they managed to find a rather fancy, horse-pulled carriage and arrived in a Pakistani city, where they agreed to stop and get something to eat - They deserved a break and a warm meal, a'ight? That, and to use Hermit Purple and project on a TV all of Enya's thoughts, in hopes of figuring out the rest of the enemy Stand users, their powers, and hopefully, perhaps even get an edge on Dio's true power.
They found a pretty decent Kebap place where Joseph attempted his negotiation skills with the owner, thinking himself witty and victorious for getting a discount; If only he knew that he paid ten times the proper amount, just for being a naive tourist. At the same time, Enya was displaying signs of waking up after quite a long time, and upon seeing the Kebap seller, she seemed to be absolutely terrified, to a degree that not even Jotaro could, when he was easily defeating her. 
As the seller removed his hood and took off his shades, revealing a young man in his mid-twenties, with the perfect appearance of a typical casanova; At the very same time, something peculiar happened, and Enya shrieked - Not only that she was far above telling on Master Dio's Stand power secret, but also out of complete agony, as long, worm-like tendrils went out of her eyes, ears and mouth, causing her a most gruesome death that not even Kisara could save her from. The villain, using a sultry voice, introduced himself as Steely Dan, using the Stand named the Lovers, and he was there to kill all the Crusaders in the very same way he killed poor old Enya. 
It was almost pitiful, how whole-heartedly she trusted Master Dio, how confident she was that he wouldn't plot her death in such a way; Panicked, Polnareff used Silver Chariot to cut off the tentacles from the planted Flesh Bud, causing the cut-off pieces to disintegrate as the rays of the Sun touched them - They were made from Dio's cells. How did Joseph come to such a conclusion, Kisara couldn't understand, but it must be a key information which she doesn't have, and must inquire about. 
In spite of clearly being killed indirectly by the Master Dio she loved and admired so much, she refused to tell his secret, up until the second she perished. The quest of saving Holly Joestar was going to be much more problematic than Kisara predicted, and this sleazy guy was going to be a drag to deal with.
"Such blind loyalty... Fanatics like her are the scariest kind of enemy. They cannot be reasoned with." the girl sighed, feeling an uncomfortable shiver going down her spine.  "What a truly pitiful old woman she was, but the fact that her trust ran so deeply further proves the power of Lord Dio's sinister charm." Steely Dan had sat down at a cafe table, where two porcelain cups were steaming, and the strong, soothing smell off coffee attracted their attention. "It seems this lovely lady over here can understand the beautiful malice of Our Lord." with a rather ominous, Dan winked at the girl, motioning for her to step closer and sit in front of him. "Sit down, my dear, I ordered this coffee just for you." he spoke in a sort of alluring way, making Kisara gulp at how uncomfortable she was feeling; Never has she been so blatantly hit on like that before, and it was genuinely creeping her out as nothing else she's experienced. "I-I... Uhm..." the girl lowered her hat to cover the excruciating grimace on her face as she stepped backwards, hiding herself by using Jotaro's large body as a shield; Again. "Hey, jerk. Quit acting like you're hot shit, get up. We'll kick your ass if that's what it takes." Jotaro threatened, glaring at the brunet man upon seeing those perverted eyes lingering on the girl's body and the way she tried to hide her distress. "Go ahead, but none of you will be able to lay even a single finger on me, the great Steely Dan." he mused cockily. "Any man who must say, "I am the king" is no true king." Kisara hissed at the enemy. "I'll make sure you understand that when I slice you into tiny pieces." "Awww, little kitten wants to play~? I'll have you know, I quite enjoy those cute little claws going down my back. Do you also purr when touched~?" the party was entirely grossed out by the lechery displayed so shamelessly, so much so that they all took out their stands; It was Star Platinum who punched him in the gut with such power that he flew backwards, shattering the cafe's window.
However, at the exact same moment Star's fist collided with Dan's body, a feminine squeal of mixed pain and shock garnered their focus, finding herself flying backwards into the nearest lamp post, bending it with her spine, and sliding down slowly; She was clutching her stomach and coughing blood of the same degree that Dan was. "Th-That... Really... Hurt..." she's never experienced pain, especially not of this degree; Were it not for Temperance corroding at her arm, she wouldn't even know what pain would feel like, considering Marilyn always protected her, even from a scrape knee. To get the brunt of Jotaro's punch to her diaphragm, getting the air knocked out of her lungs... That was something she never wanted to ever experience. "Kisara, what happened?!" Kakyoin ran to his sister, helping her distraught, trembling body stand up. She seemed to still be in deep shock from the impact and pain. "They both flew at the same time!" Polnareff cried out, his gaze shifting rapidly between the two. "Nori... Get Mr. Joestar away from here..." Kisara grunted weakly into her brother's ear. "You idiot! I was still talking! You could have just killed your girlfriend! Listen carefully!" Dan stumbled back on his feet, wiping away the trailing blood staining his chin. "Did you really think I appeared before you just to kill Enyaba?" he spit some blood. "You bastard - You told us your Stand is The Lovers - What does it do?!" Joseph shouted at the man.  "The Lovers... It mirrors your pain and damage on an enemy of your choosing... Isn't it?" Kisara found herself speaking, only to shiver a little, under the sultry gaze of the sleazy man. "The only thing you have to know is that the battle has already begun, babe. You'll never find my Stand, no matter how hard you look." the enemy declared with a smirk.
To taunt the Crusaders further, Dan pain a child to hit his leg with the broom he was cleaning the streets with; And with that strike, Kisara fell to the ground, cradling her shin - It was agony that she was feeling, as if all her nerves were alit at once, just like fairy lights on Christmas. "Don't you get it, cutie? My Stand enters the enemy's body! The moment Enyaba died, it entered your brain through your ear!" he shouted with confidence; not only that, but he declared he also brought a piece of Dio's cells to create a Flesh bud and bring forth her demise the very same he did with the old hag, and it will inflict pain several times greater than the once he feels, to the same part of her body. "You don't need to be strong to kill someone." 
The child hit Dan's legs again, making Kisara cover her mouth to stifle her scream of suffering; Perhaps if she hadn't been so sheltered all her life, she wouldn't be so frail and pain intolerant; Alas, tears were threatening to escape her eyes for the first time in so long, just like a little girl who scraped her knee skipping rope for the first time.  Jotaro was so pissed off that he declared he'll be killing Dan so swiftly, he won't even feel a thing; He grabbed him by his shirt, raising him up and clenching his fist, ready to punch - But thankfully, Kakyoin quickly stopped him from doing that. "JoJo, stop - You're choking her!" Jotaro's eyes widened, stealing a quick look backwards and watching the poor red head groveling on the ground and panting for air. "Oh? Kill me before I feel it, huh? Interesting - Do it! What were you planning to destroy, ey, Jotaro? My face? Throat?" Dan taunted to young man. "What, you angry? Come on, try it! Let's just see what happens!" he revealed his chest through the already half-unbuttoned shirt. "How about busting a hole in my chest? Or, how about you give up on using your Stand and crack my head open with a rock?" he bent down, picking a rock in his hand. "You do not want to underestimate me." Jotaro threatened, grabbing Dan by the shirt one again, glaring down at him. "When I say I'm going to do something, I do it."  "S-STOP!" as Kisara managed to croak out a plea, Hierophant Green came out to grab Star's arm and pull his fist away, while Noriaki pried Jotaro away from the enemy. "Jotaro, enough - You already know what he can do! Are you trying to kill my sister?!" Polnareff also had to put his arms around the abnormally strong highschool student. "He might just do it." Frenchie growled in his attempt at dragging the brunet away.  "Jotaro, she can't breathe, let him go!" Joseph was kneeling on the ground, cradling Kisara's body gently and keeping her hands away from her throat, as she tried to claw away at her skin, just to get some air to breathe. "Please... Run... He's targeting... You..." with this proximity, Kisara was able to warn the old man, watching as her friend begrudgingly let go off the enemy. "You dumb punk." Dan pushed Jotaro away, smirking triumphantly, knowing he can't retaliate or counterattack unless he wants to kill his crush. 
From the corner of her eyes, Kisara saw how big the rock Dan was holding, and smelled the malevolent intent behind it; Before he could grab and punch JoJo in the gut, she sent Marilyn out to protectively stand in front of him and shield him. "Don't touch JoJo." Marilyn's serenely soft voice echoed gently through their ears, mesmerising them. "Ahh, of course - A beautiful Stand for a beautiful Lady. How fitting!" Dan cackled. "Master Dio did tell me to figure out your power - So how about you be a good girl and just tell me? I might even spare your life if you do."  "Die." everyone, but Noriaki especially, was shocked to hear such a simple yet malicious comment could come out from a pure and gracious Stand like the one before their eyes. "You, fucking bitch--" Dan growled at Marilyn. "I'll make you regret looking down on the great Steely Dan!" side-stepping the Stand, he tried to slam down the rock into Jotaro's head, but it was for naught; The rock hadn't collided with anything, except for the shield, causing it to fall to the ground.
Kisara used Joseph's shoulder to support her into standing up. "You said The Lovers is the weakest Stand, didn't you?" she hummed, stepping weakly next to Marilyn - It was now more obvious than ever before how similar they looked, almost like twins. "The Devil, also, has no damaging strength whatsoever - Which means, I can stop you from afflicting yourself or anyone else, without as much as feeling any pain." she tilted her head, smiling - Yet unlike Marilyn's passively demure smile, hers was wicked, denigrating - The Devil and its two faces. "What a fucking annoying bitch you are - You sucked all the fun away from me!" Dan groaned loudly, slapping his forehead with his hand - But instead of Kisara feeling the pain, it was the old man. The Lovers changed targets. "How do you feel now, Jotaro?! Your grandpa's life is on the line! What are you gonna do, eh?!"
As the poor boy growled, his fists clenched so tight they became white and trembling. With a shared look with his sister, Noriaki grabbed the old man and Polnareff, running away to put as much distance between Dan and Mr. Joestar as possible; Which left Jotaro and Kisara alone with the sadistic Dan who was ready to destroy the two. "Oi, Jotaro, it's impolite to ignore someone when they're talking to you, don't you know?!" Dan grabbed at his jacket. The young man looked down at the enemy from the corner of his eyes, having a denigrating spark. "You sound like you're starting to lose your cool."  "Well, what are you planning? To follow me around until Grandpa Joseph keels over?" he grinned tauntingly.  "Dan, was it? I'll make sure you pay for this." JoJo threatened, but didn't budge. "If that's why you're following me, maybe I should take out a loan first." he said, as he started pick pocketing Jotaro, taking out his wallet, and speaking about how little money he has, but has a brand watch, before coming over to the girl once again. "And you, darling? What do you have in your pockets?" his hands wandered around in places that shouldn't be touched, but Kisara could only grit her teeth and glare at him. "A pervert will always be a pervert." she scoffed, seeing him not only take away all the money from her wallet, but also remove the golden jewellery gracing her features so elegantly. She was going to destroy him, once Nori finds a way to get rid of that annoying Stand. "Huh. I guess, without all that gold, even a pretty girl looks dull."  "If this is how you flirt with women... Well, no wonder you have no game. You're shit." Kisara hissed, stepping away from him with disgust. "Hush now! A woman shouldn't talk, but take care of her man's needs." he pulled her roughly into his side, smirking smugly, knowing very well how uncomfortable he was making her feel. "The only problem is - You are not my man." she pointed out, only for him to flick her hat off; Poor girl was so photosensitive that she could barely keep her eyes open. "Jerk." "Let's have a romantic walk around the city, shall we~?" he dragged the girl around senselessly down the paved streets of the unfortunate Pakistani city which got its beauty tainted by this sucker. They strolled that-a-way up and down the place, with Jotaro trailing right behind and glaring at the enemy with such dark eyes that showed how much he wanted to rip Dan apart with his bare hands. 
As the foe kept talking unimportant gibberish, mostly to himself, the trio reached a long water ditch which prevented them from passing forwards - The bridge was too far away for Dan to bother walking all the way over there, twenty whole meters. "Hey, missy, get on your knees." the two teenagers looked weirdly at Dan. "I need someone to carry me all the way to, and across the bridge. Wouldn't want to get tired." "I... Literally barely weight fifty kilos, and you expect me to be able to even lift you? Let alone, actually carry you?" Kisara blinked in bewilderment, only for her to be surprised by the enemy raising his foot up, hooking his shoe to the back of her neck and slamming her down on the ground harshly. Steely Dan took a break by sitting on her back.  "Hey, what'd you know, you make for quite the comfy chair." the man laughed tauntingly. "But you're pretty bony. Come on, get up, carry me across." "You're... Really heavy..." Kisara couldn't even as much as lift herself up from the ground, it was really quite pathetic actually. A silent growl was rumbling in Jotaro's chest, but he kept an active effort in keeping it inaudible, so Dan wouldn't extort him further; He couldn't stand the humiliation and disrespect addressed to the girl he cared so much for; He absolutely abhorred the way her arms and whole body were trembling under the heavy weight of the idiot who tried so hard to destroy their pride and provoke them into attack him, and indirectly, his grandpa also, but to a worse degree. 
"You're useless, you know?" Dan huffed, hopping to the edge of the ditch. "Now then, how to cross the ditch? I could try to jump, but I could trip and twist my ankle by accident - And clearly, lil' miss bitch here ain't got the strength needed to spare her boy-toy from humiliation." he huffed, a denigrating smirk on his face, clearly up to no good, as he looked between the two younguns. "What kind of woman are you, if you can't even protect your man's pride?" Kisara had no reply, because it was true; Were it not for the nature of his Stand, she would have done everything in her power to stop anyone from causing any of her friends any kind of discomfort. She was powerless, and dreading every second of this abuse. "Hmm... Hey, Jotaro, lie down across the ditch and pretend to be a bridge. I'll use you to walk over." Dan eyed Jotaro with a mischievous look, but he said nothing.  "Wh-What?" Kisara's jaw dropped to the floor in sheer shock. "How can you possibly ask something as ridiculous as that?" how could the human mind even create such outlandish ideas? Was this how people of ancient old came up with all the most heinous torture devices? "Shut up." Dan kicked Kisara in the face, watching her go down. "Come one, what's that? Won't you be my bridge? I'll just keep beating her until you do what I say." he threatened, that sleazy grin never once leaving his face. "The hell do you keep yapping about?" Jotaro gruffed at him.  "I SAID - MAKE YOURSELF INTO A BRIDGE, YOU WORTHLESS ARROGANT PRICK!" Dan yelled at the highschooler, attempting to slam his leg into the small pole nearby - But of course, Kisara could do one thing also, and that was to make sure no harm would come out of him attempting to damage himself. Marilyn was good for once thing in this instance, at least. "You shame the whole mankind with your behaviour." the girl spat at him with disgust. "You're nothing more than a brat throwing a temper tantrum. Grow up." she created a bright-white bridge for the idiot. "Go ahead. I made a bridge for you to pass safely." "You... You stupid bitch!" he glared at the girl. "Don't you know men hate smart-asses like you?" he marched up to the girl, grabbing her by the shoulders. "I want to step all over Jotaro's pride! I want to dance on the Jotaro bridge! Get rid of this bright shit already!" Kisara tried to look at Jotaro, whose expression was grim. She didn't want to dispel the bridge, but she also feared the capricious nature of Steely Dan. She wished she could keep him in a protective shield, but he would try to kill himself with the strong walls. Her and her brother once received a gift from their grandpa; He had found two baby bunnies on the field, and put them in a bird cage, hoping they will be well in a protective home with people to care for them. But that wasn't the case, and overnight, the two bunnies hit their heads on the walls of the cage until they died, all in hopes of escaping. A wild animal, even if so very young, cannot stay in captivity for it craves for its rightful freedom.
And Kisara knew, Steely Dan would do the same.
"Yare Yare Daze..." Jotaro sighed, crouching by the edge of the ditch and sprawling himself over to the other side. "JoJo..." was the only thing Kisara could mutter before feeling herself being pushed off, and down on the bridge. The landing hurt, but not more than seeing the humiliation and rage on the boy's face; It made tears sting at her eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks. The sentiment only got worse by the time the idiot started dancing and jumping all over the boy's spine to his heart's content, until he was satisfied with his deed and hopped off on the other side.  "What a nice bridge you make, Jotaro!" Steely Dan looked down with condescence, before turning away to wander off aimlessly.
Sniffling a little, the girl bit at her trembling bottom lip and rushed by Jotaro's side. She wanted to comfort him, to reassure him that her brother will destroy the Stand soon and he won't be subjected to even more denigration than he already has been, and so many other things - But she couldn't. Her breath was hitched in her throat, and no words escaped. Instead, she opted for another way of conveying her feeling. Kisara's arms wrapped the boy into an embrace from behind, her fingers intertwining in the front over his abdomen, and she tightened the hug. "I'm sorry." were the only words she could muster to breathe out. "I'm so sorry." It only took a few moments, but the highschooler placed his own hand over her own, gently holding them for a few seconds, before stepping away from her. His hold felt so tender and caring, she thought their mutual feelings had been conveyed with that simple touch, and the torment of one's soul would calm, at least a little bit.
"Get your head out of your ass, bastard!" the jerk forced Jotaro to scratch at his back, and even kneel down to polish his shoes with his handkerchief, only to get kicked in the face really hard. "I'm in such a great mood right now! I want you to shine my shoes until they're as bright as I am happy! I want to see the sunlight reflect off them! You can use your uniform to shine them if you want. Actually, maybe you should just lick them clean?" Dan kept rambling here and there. "Why'd you want spit all over your shoes? Gross." Kisara shuddered, cringing at the thought, while Jotaro got up and started writing in his little agenda. "Hey, bastard! The hell are you writing?!" he hollered, snatching away the agenda. "Just what you owe me. I'll make sure you pay it. I tend to forget things, so I'm making a memo." Jotaro smirked smugly, knowing full well that he'd win soon. "Jotaro, you bastard...!" he sneered, before smirking and back-slapping Kisara, making her stumble backwards a few steps, cradling her cheek in shock. "What was that for?!" she wiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand, genuinely confused at what just happened. "What for, you ask? You've got that dumb puppy-face whenever I humiliate Jotaro - And goodness me, you should see that murderous look HE has when I touch you! I should film it - He is HILARIOUS!" Dan guffawed like the ugly bastard he is, only to abruptly grab at the girl's shoulders and slap his lips onto her aggressively. From the shock, the roughness, the hostility behind the act, Kisara's mind blanked, and she was unable to react in any way, almost as if she was frozen in time. "Say something! Get angry! Cry! Try to hit me! DO SOMETHING!" he continued shaking her by the shoulders, but her brain was completely shut down. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Jotaro, why aren't you saying anything?! Did I just steal her first kiss? Did you want that to be you?!" he kept trying to taunt either of the two desperately, but neither reacted as explosively as expected. "At least chew some mint before going out of your way to kiss someone. And maybe try some deodorant and perfume." Kisara sighed theatrically, spitting on the ground. "You reek. Like a sewer." The jerk only got angrier, throwing a temper tantrum and slapping away at the boy's face, attempting to taunt them two, but the more he did, the more ridiculous his threats sounded. That is, until he spotted a jewellery shop, dragging the young man inside with him. He said he wanted the golden rings and necklaces from the display to make Kisara fall in love with him, like Marilyn Monroe swooned over her Daddies bringing her diamonds and what not.  While staying outside, staring at the shop in deep confusion, she saw a beaten-up Jotaro being forcefully thrown out of the parlor and hit with wooden bats while the jerk came out, mocking him and playing with some gemmed-up necklaces.
Though the girl worriedly fell to his side, holding onto him, Jotaro smirked widely, even chuckling tauntingly at the fuckass. "I was just laughin' 'cause your punishment got doubled." he said, excitedly. "And I've been waiting for this moment! It's almost payback time and It's really got me tingling." before Dan could slam his foot down on JoJo again, Marilyn wrapped herself around his leg, pulling him backwards.  "You are so fucking annoying..." Dan growled with an ugly sneer. "It would seem we have something of a misunderstanding. Sorry, but your old man isn't long for this world. That's the reality you're facing." "How sad. You don't know us very well, do you?" Jotaro chuckled. "Most of all, you clearly don't know my friend, Kakyoin." blood started spurting out of his forehead, which made them both grin in victory. "He did it! Cherry Boy saves the day!" Kisara giggled happily. "Looks like Kakyoin finally did some damage. Here's hoping I have time for some personal payback once he's through with you." he smirked in victory. "You see - There's nothing he wouldn't do for his sister." "Don't forget my turn!" Kisara cracked her knuckles, ready to punch him real good. "What's wrong? Why are you stepping back? Why don't you tell me what happened to my grandfather?" Joots taunted him, and as he tried to run away, he caught him by the hair. "Hey, hey, hey, what's got you worked up? You need to be somewhere? You wouldn't be trying to run away, would you? And at a time like this?" he asked rhetorically, as Dan tried make himself disappear for the danger; So badly that strands of hair were pulled out, that he started bowing on the ground in front of them. "Please forgive me, Master Jotaro! I admit defeat! I can change! I'll lie on the ground and lick your boots! What I did was awful!" he pleaded, hugging his leg. "You can hit me as much as you want! Punch me! Kick me! But please spare my life!" he literally started licking his boots, making the girl gag and roll her eyes at him. "You're worse than leprosy..." she muttered, as Star Platinum easily managed to catch his Stand, squishing it between his fingers, making Dan cry out in agony. "I figured you were planning something like this. Didn't you know that my Stand, Star Platinum, has perfect eyesight and precise reflexes? Are you sure you did your research on us?" Jotaro asked, which made her chuckle in amusement. "You don't even know Kisara's Stand power. How pathetic." "I-I-I wasn't planning anything! Your Stand's power..." he was writhing on the ground, but Jotaro put his hand to his ear, mocking him. "YOUR Stand? Just YOUR?" he asked, obviously waiting for a honorific. "N-No! I-I meant your EXCELLENCY's Stand is more powerful and just than any other! I didn't stand a chance, so it came back!" he kept begging and crying on the ground. "You've forgotten someone here, how rude of you." the brunet boy continued, having fun. "N-No, of course I haven't forgotten! How could I forget the beautiful Princess in front of me! Her Majesty's Stand power is magical and too graceful for my commoner's eyes to watch!" he kept crying, which made the girl laugh. "You're nothing more than a disgusting cockroach in the trash bin." she kicked him to the ground, just like he did to her.
"That attack broke my arm and leg! I can't fight anymore! I can't move!" he kept pleading, but Joots kept squishing the Stand. "Well, I guess for your payment, I'll take your arm and leg. Do you swear you'll never show your ugly face to us again?" Jotaro asked, yet it was obvious he was still toying with him. "I do! I do! I'll go to some deserted island! I'll go to the ends of the earth and never come back!" he tried to promise, but Kisara was getting impatient for her turn at killing him. "You better not be lying to me. Next time I see you, I'll be punching you in the face a thousand times." Jotaro threatened, as he released his Stand and turned around, saying Fuck off. Just then, Dan got up, ranting cluelessly about how he will kill Jotaro and how his Stand is in a little girl's ear and whatever he thought had happened; But he didn't realise that the Stand had Hierophant's tentacles wrapped around it. "PLEASE FORGIVE MEEEE!!!" he begged on the ground, but it was so disgusting. "You should have asked Enyaba if you wanted forgiveness. Forgiving you never even crossed my mind." Jotaro towered over the jerk. "D-Dio paid me in advance... Y-You can have it all..." he tried to negotiate. "Yare Yare... What you owe us can never be paid with money!" Star Platinum went ahead to completely destroy the ridiculous enemy with his punches as Jotaro finished writing the paper, ripping it and throwing it in the air. "Your receipt. Keep the freakin' in change." "Is it my turn yet?" Kisara high-fived Jotaro as Star threw the foe back on the ground for the girl to have her fun and kill him for good. Though he wasn't one to go out of his way to kill, he could understand her desire to get extreme revenge after everything that happened.  "Have fun." he hadn't expected to see her punching him like that, nor did he thought he'd see her drenched in blood with every well-aimed strike; And similarly to what he's seen her do with Temperance, one knee hit the ground as she unsheathed her katana, and with lightning-speed, Steely Dan lay in fish-bite pieces onto the ground. How elegant her moves were, with the grace of a dance of petals in the spring breeze.
Taking a deep breath, Kisara placed her hat back on her head, returning her jewellery back on each part of her body, and her money placed back in the wallet. "Can we, uh... Pretend the whole day didn't happen?" "Agreed." the boy nodded in agreement, putting his arm around her shoulder and walking together to meet the rest of the group. After such a long and painful day, they found a nice hotel towards the outskirts of the city.
With a long, fresh shower and a warm meal, everyone went ahead to rest properly. But Kisara didn't remain idle in her room, instead she went to see how Jotaro was doing. She sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes trailing over his body laying lazily on the bed. "Does it still hurt?" she asked in a soft voice.  "No." he grunted with non-chalance. "I'm a man. I always get in fights. That was nothing." "Just because you're used to it, doesn't make it alright." she hummed, watching as Marilyn held his hand, her gentle white light traversing all over his body in a quick attempt at healing him. "Better?" "It was just some shallow wound and bruises. No big deal." he muttered, closing his eyes. "But thanks."
It was rather curious actually, how one some occasions they felt so at ease in each other's company, all alone, just the two of them - And sometimes, they find no words to utter to the other, as if they are two school kids with awkward crushes. It was almost as though they had nothing to speak about, which was inherently untrue - Yet why did no words come out? Why did they find no conversation topic to start?  To think that the same thoughts would be crossing both their minds, without the other knowing, it was rather bizarre... But also cute, maybe? The innocence of a first crush on full display, and the lack of knowledge, experience or even guts on furthering any idea that may come across by mistake.
"I... Am sorry." Kisara found herself speaking first, dispelling the awkwardness hanging in the air. "I... Had hoped to spare you from most of what happened today." "I thought we agreed to forget today." Jotaro's voice sounded dry and stoic. "Right..." she cursed herself for even speaking. "Well, uh... I'll go out for a stroll, I guess. The sky is pretty tonight." she got up, not daring to look at the unbothered boy. "Sweet dreams, JoJo." "Wait." a small rustle alerted her that the boy had gotten off the bed. "It's not safe to go out alone." Kisara smiled softly, taking out the walkman and earbuds. "Just enough for both of us." she said, dangling the earbuds in her hand, walking ahead and out of the hotel with the boy trailing right behind her, his hands buried in his pants pocket.
They walked aimlessly through the vast nothingness of the plain until they found a large rock and climbed on it. Kisara idly dangled her legs, placing the casette in the walkman and offering an earbud to the boy, who simply hummed a thanks and leaned his head back, looking up at the Stars and listening to the soft Metallica ballads. Unbeknownst to them, Marilyn and Star Platinum were mimicking them right behind, though she was leaning her head on his shoulder, and their hands were holding, fingers intertwined. And they were smiling. They were smiling so happily.
Jotaro was completely lost in the infinity of the milky way and the twinkling stars embroidered in the dark sky. Star - His own Stand, the very essence of his soul, was named after the Tarot card depicting the Star, but without Avdol around, he hadn't the time to figure out what exactly did it mean. At first, he just felt like it was a pretty cool name - Star Platinum sounded badass as all hell - But did it have any underlying meaning?  He remembers that day in Singapore when they played around with the cards, and how petrified Avdol got when Kisara revealed The Devil card. How could all those negative traits describe either Kisara or Marilyn? It hardly made any sense whatsoever. Maybe she just picked a random card from a deck that wasn't 'blessed' by a proper fortune-teller? Although, at the same time, Hierophant Green seemed to make sense for her brother. "What does The Star mean?" he found himself asking out of nowhere. "Hope." from the corner of his eyes, he saw a beautiful smile on Kisara's face. "Inspiration. Courage. Enlightenment. Creativity." she went on. "People under The Star card are usually very supportive and amazing friends, who aren't afraid of being vulnerable or showing who they are." he couldn't help but scoff. "You don't think it describes you well, do you?" "Perceptive." he tipped his hat, looking away from her.  "I think it does." her serene voice surprised him. "I am never afraid when I am around you." she said. "Mr. Joestar seems very confident and hopeful about saving your mum." she continued. "You come up with incredibly creative ways of defeating enemies." Jotaro almost jumped in his skin in shock as soon as he felt her delicate, small hand placed over his own. "And you became my brother's first friend." "When you described your card - The Devil - You only sad negative things. It doesn't seem that way. You try too hard to find good things in even people like me." he scoffed stubbornly. "I have some traits of that, I suppose." she shrugged her shoulders. "I am obsessed with keeping the people I love safe, and I feel dependent over people's love for me. I often feel powerless when I find myself in situations that easily overwhelm me and see no solution going forward, and, well - I am sometimes pretty selfish too, you know?" the boy couldn't help but scoff. "Now you're just reaching." he scolded her. "If you think I am reaching, then... How about you prove me wrong?" she challenged him playfully. "Tell me something about you. Anything." "I like reading books on planes and ships. Sometimes trains too. Cars not so much, but it's fine. I like the engineering aspect of it." he pondered over. "I've been thinking what to pursue in the future, as a career. Mum just told me to pick whatever makes me happy." "And what did you have in mind?" he felt a tender squeeze of his hand.  "I'm kinda interested in the sea and stuff, I guess. I like animals and all that, but medicine and animal-care doesn't interest me all that much. I guess it's more like a curiosity of the unknown." he hadn't told anyone all this, not even his mum - Why was he saying all this now? "So, like a researcher, maybe?" he shrugged his shoulders unsure. "You could study sea-life of all kind. Go on cruises and study the life of various fish and aquatic mammals. Like dolphins and seals and whales. Did you see how adorable baby seals are? So small, white and fluffy, with those big sparkly eyes and wet nose. They're like cute puppies." "A marine biologist." Jotaro concluded. "Doesn't sound half-bad." "Maybe we can work together some day." he rose a quizzical eyebrow. "I want to become a vet." "I see." he muttered to himself - The thought of working together with Kisara, of doing their passions together, and even spending time together... It actually made him... Hopeful for the future. How bizarre. "That would be nice." "I'm glad you agree." 
Jotaro turned to have a proper gaze at Kisara, and he remained stunned; She was so beautiful, with that warm smile of hers, and the way the silver stars made her eyes twinkle - Yet most of all, it was that look she was giving him - It was such a tender look, so... So loving, dare he say, that his heart's rhythm picked up. "You do the same thing mum does." he grumbled, shifting his hand so their fingers would intertwine. "You fight hard for arrogant jerks like me. I don't get it." he almost seemed to be angry at himself. "Mum should have gotten angry at me the first time I called her a loud bitch. She should have punished me, beat me, something - Anything. Should have called dad from the tour to get home and discipline me better. But she didn't. She never did." it was as though all his frustrations were coming loose. "You never give up. It's weird. I don't get it." "That's just how girls are, JoJo." she smiled at him. "We know a man's heart. If his intentions are good, we hold onto him. If he's bad, we leave." "So you're saying I'm a good man." he concluded. "Did you ever doubt that? How silly of you." Kisara shook her head in disbelief. "Men hardly show their love through words - Though they should! It would make you feel more at ease if you were to voice your feelings - But you let it show through your actions, and you know... That actually means more to us than all the words in the world!" "What do you mean?" Jotaro's brows were furrowed with confusion. "A man can tell a woman a hundred thousand times that he loves her - But he beats her, and cheats on her. Words can often be lies." she explained. "But a man who shows a woman that he loves her is different. He respects and protects her. Just like how you are going on this quest to save your mum." "Yare Yare..." he grumbled, looking away from the girl; All this talk about emotions was making him feel all sort of things. "Men are stupid." "Why do you think so?" Kisara asked, surprised at his comment.  "Men only know how to show what they feel in limited ways. That's pretty pathetic, isn't it? They boast about how great they are, but they can hardly do anything properly." his comment genuinely confused the girl. "But all the women in my life are different. Their emotions shine through their words also, but through all the hard work they put into making us happy." his voice turned a little lower. "I haven't thanked mum in ages. And I haven't smiled at her either. Even so, she always kissed and hugged me before I went to school and when I returned; And she's support all my stupid short-time interest, and never got mad when I did something dumb, or got into fights and got detention." he said, looking up at the sky. "I bet grandma Suzie is pretty damn worried about gramps. He's a mess without her - Wouldn't even think he's a real man, and so old. I don't get what she sees in a deadbeat like him..." he trailed off a little. "Or what you see in me." "Do you always go out of your way to overthink and overexaggerate situations like this?" Kisara's giggle made him snap his attention to her. "Not that I mind this indirect string of compliments - But you are really reading too far into it." while Jotaro got lost in her gorgeous green eyes, she took off his hat and positioned him so that he would rest his head on her lap, playing with his already messy black hair. "Things don't always have to be so deep, you know? Something you just have to accept things in easier terms - That we both like each other for whatever reason - Isn't that right?" his bewilderness stopped him from speaking a single word, feeling himself relaxing under her gentle touch. 
When finally he got a hold of himself, the boy scoffed, smiling content and allowing himself to calm a little and let his guard down. "I was really pissed off the whole day." he grumbled, holding her other hand and playing idly with her fingers. "I couldn't stand the thought that a perverted fuck like that guy dared do all those things to you. I wanted to rip him to shreds myself, but I was terrified of hurting you or gramps." to think he actually admitted to his own feelings, it surprised even him. "And I got even more annoyed when you apologised for letting me get hurt - I should have done that. I'm the one supposed to protect you, not the other way around - And instead, I hurt you. I almost went crazy when I realised you felt a punch from me. It felt like I hurt you directly, and that just wasn't right." "We both feel protective over the other, so it's only natural to feel upset when something like that happens." she reassured him. "I was terrified too, you know? I've never been kissed before, and no one hit on me either. It was really weird and creepy, and I had no idea how to react. You being there gave me strength though, and I could get over it pretty well." she leaned over to kiss his forehead. "So don't worry about that. It's in the past. We'll just be more careful next time."
Jotaro's heart trembled with great emotion of various types, and a million thoughts rung through his head aimlessly; He was overwhelmed by all these new things Kisara was making him feel, but he had no clue how to react to most of them. Instead, he chose the most unexpected choice that randomly appeared in his mind; A choice not even he expected to pull off so shamelessly - But if Kisara could put him in her lap, why shouldn't he also do something like that?
In one swift move, Jotaro's arms were protectively engulfing the girl's much smaller form. "I will protect you." he said, resting his chin on the top of her head. She was so small, yet fel so good in his arms; With her chest pressed flush against his own, he could even feel the rapid, bunny-like heartbeat of hers, which greatly matched his own... Before they both slowed down, do a soothing rhythm. Two hearts, embracing one another into a secure serenity. He even panicked a little, seeing the little beams of tears in her eyes - He thought tears were shed out of sadness, but she was smiling, and even got so comfortable in his arms.  "I am happy." was all she needed to say for him to be reassured that, for once, he was doing something good, at least when it came to his development as an adult, and not the delinquent, angsty teenager that he turned himself into for the past few years.
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theropoda · 1 year ago
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if i ever find myself lying to myself again about how im normal and have nothing wrong with me other than being oversensitive im gonna show myself my own damn tweets from like 2016 bc That Is Not Normal Behaviour. i guess i keep denying myself the right to be sad about myself and my life because i didnt know anyone else who had it like me, so i didnt have anything to compare it to and just assumed that my life wasnt that bad when it.....Certainly was not good and shouldntve been that way. esp bc the whoooole time my parents way of cheering me up about the situation was "other people have it worse, it could be worse, dont worry it isnt that bad" (in general thats indian culture i think LOL, to acknowledge that your situation is bad is some kind of embarassment almost)
its so crazy though to see tweets of me just entering like high school trying to figure it out like "i have no idea how i will keep living"........Well guess what.......I LIVED BITCH........Life may still be difficult but it has genuinely gotten clearer, about hey imDisabled actually which explains fucking everything, theres people like me out there!! and i feel like the path to a good life is visible to me now i just need to walk it. It looks really fucking ugly and hard etc but knowledge is power and just knowing things about myself that i didnt know back then, makes me feel better i guess. Dont worry lil john you made it :] i can only hope john from 8 years from now feels the same way.
its interesting to look back on this time period, like i was literally just going through My Files looking for oc stuff and just kinda happened across this archive. probably the part of my life where i most severely delt with self hatred and the idea i was a morally horrible person (average 13 year old experience i have learned) that should straight up die....i learned to deal with it eventually, convince myself that im not evil, but its just....interesting seeing it at its worst, before it subsided, and the past few months it's been comin back again except this time its less "im literally evil scum i oughta die" and more "i'm a pretty okay, average guy, but man do i want to be so much more". but i definitely think that's an improvement LOL.
anyways whats the point of this post. just airing out my thoughts. also that it gets better. even if things don't become perfect they'll maybe get clearer. maybe you're not out of this hole yet but you know it can be done. Or something i dunno
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swimmingenthusiasty · 12 days ago
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So I wrote some sex thing that people liked. The next day I took a cue to revert to something I had gotten over just recently, that enabled writing and a general better attitude. I noticed the next day I had fallen from the usual interactions that I got.
This had happened before, I had a conversation that broke some barriers and soon after I was speaking AT someone and calling them in hell. It was almost intentional.
It's not too dissmiliar to walking with the second guy while listing asian countries one after the other and calling them a mess etc.
I recognised that the ability to do these things in the first place that's my responsibilty, I must do away with such a tendancy. It is also true though that confidence comes from trusting that your inside is on your side. I have people that I recognise to 'on the inside' but neither can be trusted, because of examples like these.
When I find myself looking for help on decisions or when I find myself making sudden decisions or when I find myself 'attracting' certain people who have an idea about me that they project. Like matching me with indians. These things I have to recognise are not always worth following through with as they don't come from me or anyone that prioritises me. What I've been seeing as me or as good as, maybe isn't so.
I'm actually the bit that beats them. The part that comes back inspite of every hurdle.
They've got me convinced I'm something else. Some pile of things that needs to change. Or something that's one and the same as them and everything else. That's mostly where attention gets diverted. When actually the only thing that creates setbacks are the people that show up, like the white guy with dreads who showed up at the airport and just looked at me with true hate, squinting his eyes and saying something unpleasant. The guy who showed up at the garden later with an axe to grind, someone else who's fat and with a chip on their shoulder at the pools and and and... these are real setbacks these people with actual bad attitudes, and I cheer up and straighten myself out again. Another real setback is feeling a cue that something's wrong just because I stopped writing or being stressed. About a lakehouse that would have been nothing bad, about the ex that they admitted would have been a great time. About a plan to make bread and do everything I couldn't there, here. About a mansion who's residents were warnings before being encouraged with a smirk when they were no longer near. About a relationship that damaged with nothing to show for it, no warning. Just added trouble there in random possessing, to make a gap for other things to come in between. And another smirk when I recognised that touch caused discomfort. And a what are going to do about it when I recognised cruelty elsewhere. At the end of my stay in 23. You aren't my friend huh. Nobody is though. That's why I listened. Anyway, that's another cause of real setback. It's not how I'm not one with the birds. Its not my tendancy to fawn either that gives my bawer away. From D.Spade mouthing 'we're trying to help you' through the T.V screen. To all that showed up and damaged the car and the bathroom back then. Almost all worked together to do a lot more damage than fawning ever could.
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oak1985 · 2 years ago
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Stede Bonnet: reassurance for the clueless amongst us
I have read lots of great, thoughtful meta about why Stede is in fact more aware of his romantic and/or sexual feelings for Ed than popular perception (and David Jenkins) might suggest.  They point to Stede’s acceptance of Lucius’ use of boyfriend to describe Ed, Stede’s response to Calico Jack asking if they’re buggering, Stede’s turning back to Ed after the moonlight almost kiss, and other moments.  How could he use this language, do these things, and not know? These posts use close textual reading of both words and body language to point out moments that suggest that Stede knows that he loves Ed or knows that he is attracted to Ed or knows that he is in a relationship with Ed.  This post does not do that.  Instead, I use my own experience of falling in love as a clueless queer person to show that, if nothing else, it is entirely possible to give as many signs of self-aware love or desire as Stede does without actually knowing it yourself.  Please travel back in time with me to fall of 2004 and prepare to be astounded at how oblivious a neurodivergent queer who hasn’t figured out they’re queer can be...
Rather exquisite cashmere: I met my partner E the first day of freshman orientation.  As an incredibly socially anxious person, I had promised myself not to take a book out of the dorm room until I had people to talk to.  I chose to sit next to E on a bench because, and I kid you not, I thought: “She has long hair and she’s reading a book, she’s probably safe.”  Since E is also pretty socially awkward, my attempts at making conversation about her reading material fell completely flat (she thinks she was gregarious.  She is mistaken) and I subsided into silence, watching the campus green.  I started laughing at some squirrels’ shenanigans and when she asked what I was laughing at and I said the squirrels and she didn’t get up and walk away from me, like “you weirdo,” I though to myself, “Ok, I’m keeping this one.”
Immediately, we started going to every meal together and working in the library or each other’s dorm rooms every evening.  We also pretty much hung out just by ourselves.
Co-captains: By my birthday in early October, a month later, I told my mom on the phone that E was going to be my “Judy L,” a reference to a lifelong friend of my mom’s.  She and this college friend were incredibly close, speaking on the phone every week even though they lived in different states, and were each other’s main emotional support, since they were both divorced, single women at the time.  Basically, I was saying that E was going to be in my life forever and was going to be my closest emotional partner.  But my mom and Judy L were just friends (I found out later that Judy had flirted with lesbianism during the early feminist movement and my mom had gone with her to a Daughters of Bilitis dance but didn’t feel attraction for women.  But that’s their story.). As long as we were talking friendship, the deeper emotional resonance of the commitment I was envisioning could be obscured.  
Marmalade: For my birthday, the two of us (just the two of us) went to an Indian restaurant for dinner.  Yes, this was the restaurant we later went to our first date on, why do you ask?  When we got back to the dorms, my mom had sent a chocolate cake, which we proceeded to eat together.  Beforehand, E and my mom kept asking why I wasn’t going out with a group of friends. “I only want to hang out with E.”  It wasn’t that I didn’t have other friends by that point, I just wasn’t as interested in spending time with them and I wanted E all to myself for my birthday (ok, and a little bit was that I wanted the chocolate cake just for us as well).
Calico Jack: On the way down to the restaurant, we shared our entire (and by entire I mean minuscule) dating history up to that point.  I told her about both of my boyfriends and my many male crushes from middle and high school.  I remember her being sort of impressed/intimidated and asking lots of questions about them.  She hadn’t had any boyfriends or girlfriends, just a male friend who had wanted to be her boyfriend but she didn’t want that.  “Gee, wouldn’t it be exciting to be her first boyfriend,” I thought to myself.  No, I did not recognize what this meant.  No, I did not follow this train of thought any further.  I wasn’t even freaked out by it yet, because I had no sphere of reference into which to put it, no way to make sense of it, given that I’d (almost) always been attracted to guys before.  I didn’t think bisexuality was real, so instead of creating a new understanding of my sexuality, I just smooshed these feelings and thoughts into existing schema (you’re a caring friend, you have strong emotions, you are always horny about everything).  
Fine things: Sometime in the late fall but before snow had fallen in Minnesota, we were walking down to Whole Foods when I casually told E that I loved her.  While this was heartfelt, it also didn’t feel like a big deal to me.  I had grown up in a family who were very free with “I love you”s and I have always taken love to encompass anyone about whom I care deeply: friends, family, even teachers and (now) students.  It’s important but it’s not sacrosanct and I don’t believe love is cheapened by expressing it more often.  So I was not prepared to E to stop walking, let alone to stop breathing.  But I immediately started worrying about being misinterpreted: “Are you ok?  I didn’t mean to upset you!  I just meant that I care about you!  Are you ok?  Are you angry?  Can you breathe?”  Eventually she was able to tell me that no one had ever said that to her before, not even in her family.  Which was my cue (I thought at the time) to loudly and emphatically discourse on the importance of expressing your love freely, explaining to E how I had grown up with very loving parents who were both verbally and physically expressive about it and that I had said I love to both my middle and high school boyfriends much to the chagrin of my more socially-adept peers and that if it was ok with her, I was going to tell her I love her any time it came to mind now.  Which I did.  With no awareness that it might be a different kind of love than I thought.  
A missed kiss: On another walk later that winter, E took my hand in hers.  I thought long and hard about what I was going to ask her because I was worried she would misunderstand me, but by that point I was too close with her to do anything other than say what was on my mind.  “I want to ask you something but I really am just asking because I’m curious, I don’t mean anything hidden by it.  In Hungary, do girls hold hands in public?  Because in the US, it would read as gay, so most girls don’t and I just wondered if Hungary is less aware of homosexuality so it’s safer to do this.”  [E was an immigrant who’d come from Hungary to the US for college].  E blushed tomato red and dropped my hand like a hot coal as she started apologizing.  Eventually I convinced her of the truth: that I really didn’t mind, wasn’t embarrassed or uncomfortable, and didn’t think she meant it as a come on (I don’t think I used those words).  I really was just curious.  We talked about the perception of homosexuality in Hungary and in my US girls’ school and how different forms of homophobia shaped our respective same-sex friendships growing up.  If I remember correctly, we held hands the rest of the way to the store, but not again after that.  And we still didn’t realize we were queer.  
The auxiliary closet: At the end of first semester, we were able to swap roommates and I moved in with E to her dorm room.  From this point, we spent every waking minute except for classes together, from brushing our teeth in the communal bathroom to tucking each other in at night.  (The number of black-and-white photos E took of different parts of my body--my neck, my shoulder dimple, my ear, my ankle--during this period is, frankly, ridiculous.  But that’s about her cluelessness and I’m trying to stay focused on mine).  We were not just cohabiting, we were partners, we simply didn’t know it yet.  
Buggery: One night, E asked me if I thought romantic relationships were possible without sex.  I said no, immediately and vehemently.  (At the time, asexuality was not on my radar.  Nowadays, I would answer differently; that it’s possible for some people but not for me).  E was distraught and kept asking me again and again in different ways and I kept explaining that sex and sexual desire were an integral part of romance for me.  We stayed up past midnight debating this.  Neither one of us had a clue why it felt so important to convince the other.  
The beach kiss: Even our mutual realization that was we were feeling was queer desire took for-fucking-ever to resolve.  In late February, just after my mom had left after a visit, I was feeling really sad and lonely and was struggling with the worst depressive episode of my life.  Again, I hesitated a while before asking for what I wanted because I was so worried it would be misread (the number of times I worried about being misread when I was the missing what I was actually feeling is both hilarious and fucking tragic).  But eventually, and with many caveats that “You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable,” I asked E if she would cuddle me in bed.  The only furniture in our room was one tiny armchair with wooden arms, our two single bunk beds and our desks underneath them, so she couldn’t really have held me anywhere else.  But let’s be clear: I asked if she would cuddle me in bed and I didn’t know I was attracted to her or in love with her.  Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.  She said she would and was holding me and stroking my hair and a while after I had stopped crying, I looked at her face and thought, “I wonder what it would be like to kiss her.  I’d like to kiss her” and I felt a wave of arousal.  And then.  And then!  I handwaved this dismissively in my head because I’d had that thought/feeling about two female friends earlier in my life, once in 8th grade and once in 9th and hadn’t acted on it or thought it meant anything.  I knew I was (very) attracted to boys, so I just figured horny teenagers sometimes wanted to kiss their same-sex friends without it meaning anything about your sexual orientation.  I literally thought, “Well, you’ve felt this before so it doesn’t mean anything.”  Whaaat?!  So I was pushing the arousal down and preparing to ignore it until it went away.  Then I noticed that E had gone rigid, her breathing had quickened, and she looked panicky.  
This was the turning point for me, the moment when I realized that my feelings were real and really queer.  It wasn’t until I had reason to suspect that she wanted me back that I was able to allow myself to take my own desires seriously.  I needed permission to love queerly before I could even think the possibility.  But I still wasn’t confident enough to risk our friendship by saying what was going on with me without confirming what E was feeling.  When I turned to ask if she was ok, she squeaked and literally leaped out of the bunk bed and halfway across the room into the armchair, where she sat in a ball with her arms wrapped around her knees and on the verge of hyperventilating.  Eventually, her staunch refusal to tell me what had happened and her clear turmoil convinced me that she also wanted me.  After hours of pressing her for an answer (I knew I was being a bully but I didn’t mean to be as cruel as I probably was), I felt sure enough of what was going on to say “Just before you left the bed, I wanted to kiss you.  Is that what you felt, too?”  And then she burst into tears.  And then, like the mentally ill, neurodivergent wlw that we are, we talked for six weeks about our feelings and what it might mean for each of us to be queer and what it might do to our friendship if we entered into a relationship.  So we didn’t even get a kiss in our beach scene.  We were just fucking miserable until April 3.
(Btw, if you want to know how season 2 will go, we broke up after less than two weeks of being together and were “not in a relationship” [scare quotes] for a year before getting back together.  If people want, I can tell that saga, too!  And our season 3 was navigating the external obstacles, with US immigration playing the role of British Empire.)
I wrote this because a. I think we’re adorable and more people should know our story and b. I saw some eerie parallels between my oblivion and Stede’s that I wanted to explore.  It is so hard to know your own desires when you’re queer and neurodivergent and when people around you have told you that you’re undesirable your whole life.  When there isn’t a place for you in your society, of course you can’t imagine one. Why would a kiss and “I reckon what makes Ed happy is you” mean romantic/sexual love?  Why not just literally that Stede makes Ed happy?  After all, Stede’s not sure about that before this moment, as we can see with the treasure hunt and with Calico Jack - just the fact that Ed enjoys his company is news to him.  Of course Stede didn’t know he was in love until Mary gave him the words for it.  It’s entirely possible to be aware of, even to articulate to others your own feelings, without having the foggiest fucking clue what they actually mean.
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nights-legacy · 4 years ago
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Funny Way of Showing It - Shinsou x Sister! Reader Pt. 1
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Main Masterlist MHA Masterlist
+You are the sister of Hitoshi Shinso. You are the same age and were both adopted by Aizawa and Yamada as a young children. Everyone knows how Hitoshi wanted to be in the hero course but instead you got in. You have a force field quirk that can be both used defensively and offensively. He says he's proud of you but why then is he pulling away from you?
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I jumped in excitement after my letter of acceptance finished. I got into UA. Class 1-A even! I ran out of my room to Hitoshi’s. I knocked on the door lightly, not sure if he had finished his yet. I heard a humph inside before someone approached the door. I recognized the humph as a bad one. I set my head on the door frame as he opened the door.
“Hi.” I said. He nodded before turning back into his room. He plopped down on his bed. I sat down Indian style next to him. “So…did you get in?”
“Yeah.” He said solemnly. I cocked my head to the side. He glanced at me before sighing. “I got in but I got into General Studies, that’s it.” He said while closing his eyes. I saw an irritated look pass over his face before it went neutral. “How about you?”
“Yeah, I got in too.” I shrugged and looked away. I pursed my lips, feeling bad now. I know how bad he wanted to be in the hero course. I didn’t really care where I ended up. In reality, I was just trying to support Hitoshi.
“What class?” I heard him shift. He sat up, propped his knees up, and propped his arms on his knees. He looked at me expectantly. I sighed and straightened my back.
“Class 1-A.” I said biting my lip. I didn’t want to look at him but I did anyway. He was looking down with a slight upset look in his face. “I’m sorry Hitoshi. I know how much you wanted…” He held his hand to stop me. I snapped my mouth shut.
“It’s alright, sis.” He said. He set his hand down on mine. “I may be disappointed in placement but that doesn’t mean I can’t be in the hero course one day.” He smiled. I nodded before he pulled me into a bear hug.
“Ah!” I yelled and giggled.
“I am so proud of you though!” He said enthusiastically. “You didn’t even think you would get in let alone the top hero class. See, I told you your quirk is worth more than a shield.”
“Yeah, you were right.” I rolled my eyes and pushed him off by elbowing him. He groaned and let go. I looked over at him, he seemed happy but I knew that this would bother him more than he would let on. A few chuckles from the door caught our attention. We looked to see our dads standing there.
“Congrats you two.” Dadzawa said. He had a soft smile on his face. PapaMic was nearly jumping in place.
“Did you two know?”
“Weeellll…” Papa started. “We knew that you two got in but we didn’t know your placements until your letters were delivered.”
“Just in case loud mouth here couldn’t keep his mouth shut.” Dad threw his thumb over his shoulder. We laughed as Papa looked at him in annoyance. “Also, just because you are now my student, doesn’t mean I’m going to be easy on you young lady/man.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I said hopping up. “Just please, all I ask is don’t expel the entirety of the class like that one time. That would suck.”
“Crap. Yeah please don’t do that again. I mean I wouldn’t be able to deal with them being all mopey.” Hitoshi laughed, pointing at me.
“Hey!” I exclaimed offended before pouncing on him. I wrestled with him, ignoring the bounds of laughter behind us. The wrestling went on for a bit but ended up with me pinned by Hitoshi sitting on my back. “Fine I give up.”
“Wimp.” He said. I rolled my eyes before hitting him with a small force field. He flew off my back and I got up and bolted. “Hey! No force fields in the house!”
~Time Skip~
The weeks leading up to class starting were nerve racking. Preparations, the little paperwork, and other things. All that, along with Hitoshi being distant and quiet now and then. Well, more than his normal quiet behavior. The day classes started was the worst yet. We left for school but he hadn’t said one word to me. He wouldn’t even look at me straight.
“Have a good day, Toshi.” I said as we made it in the doors. He nodded and walked off without a word. I sighed and walked to my classroom. I took a breath and walked into the classroom. At least half the class was already here.
“Heyo!” A couple of others waved to me. I shyly waved back. I sat down and kept to myself. The last few showed up and stood in the door. A familiar yellow sleeping bag caught my attention. I rolled my eyes at his antics as the students at the door got spooked. I sighed and got up when he said we are going to do quirk testing.
“What about orientation?” I chuckled when Dad gave out an annoyed sigh. The day went on and I made a few friends. I stayed away from the loud, explosive blonde that had been the subject of the news a while back. The red head Kirishima was really nice and Yayorozo was pretty cool too. I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck as I waited in the classroom for my dad’s to finish.
“So how was your first day kiddo?” Papa came in the door with Dad in tow.
“Exhausting.” I said giving dad a look. He just shrugged. “But no one was expelled. So that was good. I am curious though. What made you not expel that Midoriya kid? Everyone thinks it was just a ploy to make everyone do their best but I know different. So what was that?”
“I saw potential in the kid. Nothing more. See how long he lasts.” He said. Papa and I shared a look.
“Uh huh. Sure.” I said. I got a side, stink eye. I laughed before Papa spoke up.
“So have you talked to Hitoshi today?” I looked at him before looking at the surface of my desk. I shook my head sighing. “What has gotten into that boy? You two barely go a day without talking.” I just shrugged, staring out the window.
The next couple of days passed the same. Hitoshi and I would go to school together, silently. I would wish him a good day and I would either get nod or a wave in response. He did not speak to me much out of necessity at home either. I sighed as I pushed around my breakfast on my plate. I looked up as Hitoshi washed his dishes.
“So how’s school been on you?”
“It’s only been two days.” He said blankly. I flinched. “But how was hero training on you?” He looked over his shoulder at me. “I heard a couple of guys in your class really got into it.”
“Ye-yeah. They did. Apparently they were childhood friends that’s turned into a rivalry or something. It really hyped the rest of us up for our turns.” I said. He hummed and turned back. I bit my lip. I went to say something else but he spoke again.
“Must be nice.” He set the dishes down hard in the drainer. I flinched again. He wiped off his hands and walked towards the front door. “I’m heading out first, see ya later, sis.”
“By…” The front door slammed. I sighed before scraping the remnants of my breakfast and washing my dishes and leaving. I walked to the train station and made it to school. Dad announced we were going to the USJ. The whole class was excited. The day was going to be great. At least that’s what we thought.
“Y/N.” I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up through my haze to see Papa. I had gotten hit pretty hard by some of the villains. Some were able to outsmart me and get around my shields. I was holding my side where I just knew I had a couple of broken ribs.
“Papa.” I whimpered as I tried to move.
“Don’t move too much.” He knelt down. He moved my hair and held my face, checking me over.
“Dad, he…” He shushed me. Someone called him and he looked over his shoulder. I felt myself getting more dizzy. I heard him speak with someone. I collapsed into his lap.
“Y/N!” I heard him yell before I blacked out. I woke up sometime later in Recovery Girl’s office. I groaned as I pushed myself up. I heard the curtain being pulled back.
“Oh good. You’re awake.” Papa said.
“Yes but what about Dad?” He smiled but sighed. He sat down on the edge of the bed.
“He’s holding. He’s beat up pretty bad but he’s strong. You know that.” He brushed hair out of my face. “You dad will be okay.” I nodded. Recovery Girl cleared me and we went home. We walked in the door and Hitoshi shot up from the couch.
“Thank god your back.” He said in relief. I felt emotionally and physically drained so I just walked past him to my room, giving him a small ‘yeah’. “Y/N…” I walked into my room, let my bag drop, and carefully changed clothes before climbing into bed. I heard my door open. “Y/N.”
“I’m fine, Hitoshi.” He heard him pause before he moved forward. I felt him place a hand on my shoulder.
“Are you sure? I mean, you went up against a whole fleet of villains. Real villains. Normally, hero students wouldn’t even see that until…”
“I know. Wouldn’t see that until further into the course. I know Hitoshi.” I sat up. I looked at him. I could see worry laced in his eyes. “I’m fine. I mean I gotta get used to this right? The bad guys, the danger…” I looked down at my hands. “You’re more cut out for this than I am.”
“Y/N…you are cut out for this. I believe in you.” He said grabbing my hand. I looked at it before up at him.
“You have a funny way of showing it, Hitoshi.” I deadpanned before pulling my hand from his and turning over with my back to him. I could almost feel the surprise rolling off of him. “Goodnight, Hitoshi.”
“I, um, goodnight.” He left my room without another word.
@spicy-therapist-mom @dxnaii-rxse
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helpimhyperfixating · 3 years ago
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What if all the stardust crusaders were also mermen?
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This is my first time writing for the other Jojo’s, so I’m sorry if they’re ooc. I tried 🤷‍♀️
Didn’t know exactly what you wanted so I just did some random things XD (sorry for the weird formatting)
What if the Crusaders were also Mermen? Chaos, that’s what. Just imagine a journey across the seas just to beat up the sea snake that is Dio, but then think ten times harder. Going from the Pacific Ocean, to the Indian Ocean, into the Arabian Sea all just to get his ass.
Enemies are still sent by Dio, but now Dark Blue Moon is no longer special, kek. No but, while the enemies remain similar, Stands aren’t really a thing and therefore it becomes more a fight of physical strength. When Mer can come in all sorts of shapes, colours and sizes however, the battles always remain with an unsure outcome. Vanilla Ice the Giant Squid was a very close call.
The journey itself was tiresome, with them having to swim the entire way instead of being able to use transportation. Not to even mention other things. Every day is chaos - not even taking enemies into account - when travelling with the crusaders:
Polnareff won’t have to worry about clean toilets for once but still always seems to be complaining about something, Kakyoin and Jotaro are both still adolescents so they don’t quite have a grip on their instincts yet, more easily distracted by small things such as animals they don’t yet know or a shape quickly fluttering away in the current (must be chased and caught!!!), Joseph is basically an overgrown adolescent even if he is the patriarch of the pod so he usually shoots along with his grandson and friend. Iggy is there but then he isn’t??? And then he is again?? All in all, Avdol should get a medal, award, title, anything and everything really for his patience and ability to keep the others on track and keep them going.
Now, personality wise:
The Joestar pod is a big one. Family and friends coming together over time to form a larger and larger pod until it is eventually one of the largest out there. All kinds of Mer have come together to form this giant family unit and - apart from one defect (Dio) - it has stayed surprisingly tight knit.
Jonathan:
He is the pod patriarch, making the decisions together with Erina, who is the matriarch.
Super protective of the pod. Would shield the entire family with his body if he could. But since he can’t he’ll settle for just shielding all the pups, since the others can protect themselves. He is large enough to do so anyways.
Best play mate possible. All the pups love him.
I imagine he either has the body of a seal, or a blue whale. Very different yes, but he is just an excited ginormous puppy, hence the seal. But he is also a gentle giant, hence the blue whale. And also... other, more obvious reasons (*cough* he buff and giant *cough*).
Joseph:
In his younger years, he is the bane of existence of all the adults in the pod. In both his adolescent as well as young adult/adult stage, Joseph is a hyperactive troublemaker. More than once he has snuck out of pod territory, only to come fleeing back with an angry sea creature on his tail, needing resident buff protector Jonathan to step up and chase his attacker off.
In his older years, he has mellowed out a bit, needing to be since he inherited the position of pod patriarch from Jonathan. He is however, still a prankster and always will be. He will play a prank on the pups every so often where he pretends to have died in the night when they come get him for meal- or play time (He’s been scolded by Suzie Q for that after one of the pups burst out crying. He promised to never do it again, but he definitely will).
I imagine he has the lower body of a dolphin. Dolphins can be real assholes. But also very playful and agile, which Joseph stays, no matter his age. Either that, or a sawfish. Their faces look a little silly, but don’t bloody mess with them. They are fast as all hell and they can also get to be fujking big. About 7 meters (23 feet) on average to be exact. But then again, Joseph wouldn’t get the face so he has nothing to worry about.
Jotaro:
Oh, Jotaro. Our resident grumpy Mer. In a pod dynamic he usually has one of two moods. Tolerant, or, leave me the fuck alone. Usually it is the latter.
Surprisingly enough however, his personality seems to appeal to several of the pups. It’s about a 50/50 chance whether they’ll be scared of him, or think he is the coolest. Oftentimes a disgruntled Jotaro can be seen, followed by about two or three small Mer who are chatting his ears off or chewing on his side fins as they teeth.
Thanks to this, Jotaro is often the one who goes hunting. It finally gives him a bit of that peace and quiet he needs. Yare yare indeed.
I imagine Jotaro to have the body of a bull shark. Not the biggest or most aggressive shark out there, but part of the top 3 for sure. Also, Mer have the tendency to have their tails be bigger than their animal counterpart, such is definitely the case with Jotaro. Male bull sharks averaging in about 2 meters in length while just Jotaro’s tail is already almost double that.
Josuke:
Josuke has inherited some of his father’s hyperactivity unfortunately. The young Mer can often be heard from a mile away whenever he is hanging out with his friends.
Speaking of which, one day Josuke just turned up with several Mer in need of a home. Guess they’re part of the pod now!
Josuke is always quick to help anyone who needs it though. Need a hand? Josuke is there. Want someone to watch the pups? Might be a bit of a hazard, but Josuke will gladly do so. Need something that is very specific and probably quite a swim-distance away? Josuke is already on his way there.
He just wants to help and be useful, let him do stuff please 🥺
Still somehow has his hairdo, even underwater.
I drew Josuke as a Nurse shark a little while back, but for some reason I can also really see him being a sting ray?? I don’t know why, I think a sting ray fits him but that may be my bias towards stingrays.
But the lower half I can really see him having is that of a sailfish. (Have you seen the sails on those fish? They are just as impressive as Josuke’s hair. It’s a perfect match) they are fast as fuck boiiiiii, perfect for our lovable goof.
Either that or he is an otter cause they are bloody adorablez
Giorno:
Giorno wasn’t born as part of the Joestar pod unfortunately. Growing up, his father, Dio, had different goals and morals and broke away from the Joestar pod. Oftentimes Giorno heard him talk about the old pod he was once a part of, and how he vowed to wipe it from the sea.
This sparked a curiosity in the young Mer and when he was old enough, he decided to just up and leave the Brando pod. His initial goal was to find the Joestar pod he had heard so much about, but on his travels, he came across a different one. After spending some time with them, he decided to remain with Bucciarati and his pod of misfits.
All kinds of sea creatures flock to Giorno. For some reason, the calm and confident aura he gives off makes many animals feel safe and protected, hiding under or against his body if he is resting or sitting down on the ocean floor, or - if Giorno allows it - following him as he swims.
Giorno. Hmm, Giorno. I think he might have the lower body of a barracuda or a lion fish. Sleek, streamlined, dangerous. Or, pretty, yet hard to approach with his poisonous spikes poised unless he trusts you and allows you near. His spikes will lie as flat down his body as he can get them to show this. Not many Mer have this honour.
(Or he is part of the requiem shark family, lols, sorry I had to)
Jolyne:
Jolyne can be energetic or standoffish, you can never really tell which of the two it will be. Her dynamic in the pod differs from day to day depending on her mood, but when it comes to it, there is nothing she won’t do for it.
Very playful and giddy. Loves to hang out with her best friends and is the unofficial appointed forager with how much stuff she brings back whenever she goes for a swim.
Jolyne’s lower half. Hum hmm. Her body either somewhat resembles a butterfly fish, only- updated to be more mermaid like by being more stretched out, her tail fin mainly resembling the fish while her tail is more classic. It’s very pretty though and she somehow has some octopus genes in her, making her able to change colours, which she absolutely loves to do, nearly coming in with a new colour every day (though she has a few favourites) Either that, or she resembles her dad a little more with the lower half of a spinner shark. She’s sleek and agile. A swift and dangerous predator you should not mess with. She might look harmless when she’s chatting with her friends, but when she is spinning at you with claws poised and no way to escape, you’d click a different tune.
Haven’t read part 7 or 8 yet, sorry :(
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andilovetowrite · 4 years ago
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Webs and Awkwardness P.P
Peter Parker x Bestfriend! Reader
Summary: Walking into your best friend’s room to find out he is Spiderman is terrible as it is, but what comes after is even worse, when Peter rips your t-shirt in the process…
Based on this prompt
Warnings: A couple of bad words (Mostly from May) and a little suggestiveness. Supportive Aunt May, and flustered Peter ;)
Word Count: 1.9k words
Posted May 2, 2021
Here is my Masterlist, in case you wanted to check it out :)
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“Hey Aunt May!” you greeted, walking into the apartment. She smiled, hugging you.
“Good evening Y/N!” She gestured over to the pile of books in your arms. “Studying for a test?”
Nodding tiredly, you answered. “Physics...and Peter is probably the only one in the class who is passing. So I desperately need his help.”
Aunt May laughed, pointing to his room. “Thank god he is still doing his work, with being cooped up in his room all the time. Not to mention being so distant after getting that internship from that Stark guy.” She shook her head, primarily to herself. “I don’t like him too much.”
You smiled, thanking her before making your way to Peter’s room, knocking softly. There was no response. You did it again but figured Peter might be too engrossed in making something. So you went in.
And you will never forget the shock that went through your body. In the middle of the room, standing half-naked with only his boxers, was your best friend, Peter Parker. But that wasn’t what shocked you. What made you gasp was the clothing that pooled at his feet. Red and blue. Black lines crisscrossed over it. But even then, you wouldn’t overthink about red and blue clothes. The mask in his palm,, though said everything.
“It’s not-uh not what it looks like!” Peter shouted, haphazardly throwing the mask to the side. It didn’t help his case because the second he threw it, a light red light illuminated the ceiling, showing the iconic logo we all knew. “I’m uh, not- I promise it is not- this it just a- Oh god”,, Peter rambles on, kicking the suit back so harshly that it hits the wall hard, making a small dent before it crumples to the floor.
You could feel your eyes widen, looking at Peter in amazement and then the mask. Almost comically, you come closer, observing his face and then shamelessly looking up and down his body, eyes zeroing on his abs.
“You’re Spiderman. Peter Parker is Spiderman. My best friend is Spiderman.” You say slowly, trying to get it into your head. Peter nodded, trying to judge what you were going to say or do.
“I-”
“It all makes sense now!” you exclaimed, sitting down on the bed, knowing if you kept standing, you were going to pass out or something.
“What?” Peter asked eyebrows scrunched up. Out of all the possible things you could’ve said, that was the least expected one. The most expected one was a hit to the face,, and maybe then you would run out of the apartment.
“It’s- uh- now I understand. How you magically got rid of your glasses,”
“I got contacts”, Peter interjected, biting his lip.
“-no,, you didn’t. I asked May where you got your contacts from,, and she told me you didn’t have any.” Peter looked down, knowing that story went for a toss.
“Then how you also got abs overnight, as well as your overall muscles”, you said, gesturing to his body. Peter became bright red but made no move to put anything on.
“After that, you would never answer my calls in the night. For a bit, I thought you were ignoring me or at some girl’s house-”
“I wasn’t!” Peter shouted, then looked back at the door to see if his aunt heard him.
You nodded, thinking of other things. “Plus, you never speak about the internship, even though it was what you did most of the time.”
Peter hung his head down, now feeling bad about not telling you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just couldn’t let people know who I am and then if they saw Spiderman coming into your house-the-they might start targeting you-an-and you might get hurt. I-I couldn’t live with myself if that happened to you be-because of me.”
You nodded, the seriousness of the situation hitting you suddenly. But in real life, it hit Peter. Well, you hit Peter.
“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME? BAD GUYS TARGETTING ME IS BAD AS IT IS, BUT THEM TRYING TO KILL YOU?! YOU COULD HAVE ASKED ME FOR HELP! I SWEAR TO GOD PETER PARKER, YOU WOULD WISH THAT THE BAD GUYS HURT YOU AFTER WHAT I DO TO YOU!” you walked closer threateningly. Peter’s eyes widened. No matter who he went against, even if it was Captain America, no one would be more frightening than you when you were mad.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, Peter mumbled, moving back further. He didn’t even realize that he was halfway up the wall at this point, his face touching the ceiling.
“Get down here Parker!”
“Okay”, Peter squeaked, jumping down with impressive skills. “I’m s-” He went to apologize again but was cut off by you.
“Come here”, you said softly, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, feeling his warm skin touch yours.
“Oh, this is nice”, he mumbled, hugging you back.
“You know how I would feel if someone came and told me my best friend died because of saving a city? Do you know how much I would stress out each night about you being Spiderman and fighting people twice or thrice your age?”
“Yeah”, Peter whispered against your skin, lips tickling your neck. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
You sighed softly. “But do you know how much it would hurt to know that you got hurt when I couldn’t help you? Just because I didn’t know that you were Spiderman?”
Peter stayed quiet, but his grip on you tensed up, clutching you tightened.
You pulled back, looking him in his chocolate eyes. “Please don’t keep things to yourself. Not with pressure like this. I know the Hulk or Iron Man might be there to help you, but tell me you’re alright. Just every now and then?” By this time, you could feel your throat closing, as you can feel tears prickling the sides of your eyes. Peter nodded, pulling you back in his embrace.
“I will. Plus, who will you come to to get Physics answers if I die?”
“Shut up!”, you laughed, leaving the hug but keeping your arm around his shoulder.
“So Mr Spiderman, how do you stick to buildings? And shoot webs? Do you make webs? Oh my god, are you part spider? Do you grow legs when you are outside fighting crime?”
Peter looked confused, listening to you babble on and on, but then chuckled. “With my suit that Mr Stark made. I make my webs. No I’m not part spider and of course not!”
“Wait, can I see the webs?”, you asked, curiosity blooming in your chest.
Peter shrugged. “Sure” Going over to his desk drawer, he opened it, pulling out a couple fancy technology gadgets. “Here, just press on this button.”
Gingerly taking it from him, you touched the button, not expecting such a light, featherlike touch to make it go on. Suddenly, a white stringy web hit Peter’s hand, jerking him towards you.
“Woah!”, he exclaimed as he banged into you.
“I’m sorry!”
“No probl-” he began, as he pushed himself off you, but one part stuck. His right hand was situated right on your chest, stuck with his web.
“Peter! Get your hand off!”
His mouth opened and closed, looking like a fish. “Uh-I’m sorry, you just- I grabbed onto the first thing, I mean, I didn’t try and grab your boob, oh god- I just-here let me-damn it, two hours.”
“What are you talking about? What’s two hours?” You asked, trying to concentrate on anything but Peter’s calloused hand on your thin shirt.
“Uh, I don’t know how to tell you this but uh-”, Peter looked incredulously at, his hand, quickly glancing at the ceiling. “The web takes two hours to dissolve. And I just ran out of web dissolver…The only one left is on the roof”
“Seriusly? Pete! You can’t...- your hand is on my boob!”
“I’m sorry, I promise, I can’t feel anything. Well, no, I can feel something, but that’s not what I meant! Um-”
You sighed, looking up to see Peter’s face close to your’s. “You’re Spiderman! Just pull your hand off or something?”
“Uh-ye-yeah sure”, he said hesitantly. Giving a couple small tugs, nothing came off, but then he got annoyed, and yanked his hand back.
Not the best decision.
Instead of his hand coming off the shirt, the shirt came with him, tearing off your body. Gasping, you threw your hand to your chest, covering yourself up. “Peter!”
“Oh god, oh my god!” Peter blushed hard, the pink going all the way across his body as he looked at the cut up cloth in his palm. As you tried to find something to cover yourself up with, Peter’s ears twitched.
“Shit!”, he whispered, running over to me. “May is coming here!”
“How the heck can you hear that?”
“Super-hearing…”
“Of course”
“Y/N! May can’t know I’m spiderman! She won’t allow me to do these things otherwise…”
You stuttered, looking around the room. “Quick! Hide the suit.”
Running over to his mask, you grabbed it, throwing it under the bed, while he jumped up and hid his suit in the small slot on the roof. Hearing her footsteps now, you ran over to Peter’s hoodie, but it was too late.
May opened the door. “Hey guys, you want some Indian for dinne- What are you doing!?”
You couldn’t blame her. It looked bad. Peter without any clothes but his boxers on, and your shirt torn open, revealing your red, lacy bra underneath.
“We-we aren’t doing- any-anything May!”, you half yelled, embarrassment flooding your body.
“Yeah, no, we are not- she doesn’t-uh”, Peter said, looking at my torn shirt as he quickly pushed me behind him, not wanting to show his aunt what I wa wearing.
“Um, okay. Kids, I don’t know what’s happening, but just, uh, use protection and don’t be too loud-”
“MAY!” Peter said, hands covering his face. “We aren’t doing anything!”
“Uh huh. Sure….”, she said. “With how much you talk about how beautiful Y/N is, I can’t believe it took this long for you to tell her. But maybe don’t sleep on the first date? I mean, I know you are 19, and it’s your decision.. ”
“NO MAY!” Peter said, glancing back at me, cheeks flooded with pink.
“Also, perhaps lend Y/N your shirt or something. Considering you ruined hers? And wear some clothes when you get out.”
With that, she left the room, winking at me and mouthing to Peter, “It’s under the bathroom sink…”
Peter groaned, falling on his bead, head still in his arms. “I’m so sorry for May! I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to- your shirt-”
You laughed, pulling Peter’s midtown hoodie over your ripped shirt. “It’s honestly fine Pete. Let’s go eat some food. And maybe after that, you can ask me out on that date you’ve been meaning to do?”
Smirking slightly, you walked out of the room, kissing Peter on the cheek and taking pride in leaving him behind in his room, stuttering a nervous “Yes”.
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I hope this is good, and I did the story justice anon! Thanks so much for requesting this, and I would love to have a couple more to write since you all have such good ideas :) Until next time!
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mostlymovieswithmax · 4 years ago
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Movies I watched in May
Sadly, I kind of skipped writing a post for April. It was a mad month with so much going on: lots of emails sent and lots of stress. I started a new job so I’m getting to grips with that... and even then, I still watched a bunch of movies. But this is about what I watched in May and, yeah… still a bunch. So if you’re looking to get into some other movies - possibly some you’ve thought about watching but didn’t know what they were like, or maybe like the look of something you’ve never heard of - then this may help! So here’s every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of May 2021 Tenet (2020) - 8/10 This was my third time watching Christopher Nolan’s most Christopher Nolan movie ever and it makes no sense but I still love it. The spectacle of it all is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had also watched it four days prior to this watch also, only this time I had enabled audio description for the visually impaired, thinking it would make it funny… It didn’t.
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Nomadland (2020) - 6/10 Chloé Zhao’s new movie got a lot of awards attention. Everyone was hyped for this and when it got put out on Disney+ I was eager to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing these real nomads certainly gave the film an authenticity, along with McDormand’s ever-praisable acting. But generally I found it quite underwhelming and lacking a lot in its pacing. Nomadland surely has its moments of captivating cinematography and enticing commentary on the culture of these people, but it felt like it went on forever without any kind of forward direction or goal. The Prince of Egypt (1998) - 6/10 I reviewed this on my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. For what it is, it’s pretty fun but nowhere near as good as some of the best DreamWorks movies.
Chinatown (1974) - 8/10 What a fantastic and wonderfully unpredictable mystery crime film! I regret to say I’ve not seen many Jack Nicholson performances but he steals the show. Despite Polanski’s infamy, it’d be a lie to claim this wasn’t truly masterful. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Admittedly I was half asleep as I curled up on the sofa to watch this again on a whim. I watched this with someone who demanded the dubbed version over the subtitled version and while I objected heavily, I knew I’d seen the movie before so it didn’t matter too much. That person also fell asleep about 20 minutes in, so how pointless an argument it was. Howl’s Moving Castle boasts superb animation, the likes of which I’ve only come to expect of Miyazaki. The story is so unique and the colours are absolutely gorgeous. This may not be my favourite from the legendary director but there’s no denying its splendour.
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Bāhubali: The Beginning (2015) - 3/10 The next morning I watched some absolute trash. This crazy, over the top Indian movie is hilarious and I could perhaps recommend it if it weren’t so long. That being said, Bāhubali was not a dumpster fire; it has a lot of good-looking visual effects and it’s easy to see the ambition for this epic story, it just doesn’t come together. There’s fun to be had with how the main character is basically the strongest man in the world and yet still comes across as just a lucky dumbass, along with all the dancing that makes no sense but is still entertaining to watch. Seven Samurai (1954) - 10/10 If it wasn’t obvious already, Seven Samurai is a masterpiece. I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, so more thoughts can be found there. Red Road (2006) - 6/10 Another recommendation on episode 30 of the podcast. Red Road really captures the authentic British working class experience. Before Sunrise (1995) - 10/10 One of the best romances put to film. The first in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy is undoubtedly my favourite, despite its counterparts being almost equally as good. It tells the story of a young couple travelling through Europe, who happen to meet on a train and spend the day together. It is gloriously shot on location in Vienna and features some of the most interesting dialogue I’ve ever seen put to film. Heartbreakingly beautiful.
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Tokyo Story (1953) - 9/10 This Japanese classic - along with being visually and sonically masterful - is a lot about appreciating the people in your life and taking the time to show them that you love them. It’s about knowing it’s never too late to rekindle old relationships if you truly want to, which is something I’ve been able to relate to in recent years. It broke my heart in two. Tokyo Story will make you want to call your mother. Before Sunset (2004) - 10/10 Almost a decade after Sunrise, Sunset carries a sombre yet relieving feeling. Again, the performances from Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke take me away, evoking nostalgic feelings as they stroll through the contemporary Parisian streets. There is no regret in me for buying the Criterion blu-ray boxset for this trilogy. Before Midnight (2013) - 10/10 Here, Linklater cements this trilogy as one of the best in film history. It’s certainly not the ending I expected, yet it’s an ending I appreciate endlessly. Because it doesn’t really end. Midnight shows the troubling times of a strained relationship; one that has endured so long and despite initially feeling almost dreamlike in how idealistically that first encounter was portrayed, the cracks appear as the film forces you to come to terms with the fact that fairy-tale romances just don’t exist. Relationships require effort and sacrifice and sometimes the ones that truly work are those that endure through all the rough patches to emerge stronger. The Holy Mountain (1973) - 10/10 Jodorowsky’s masterpiece is absolute insanity. I talked more about it on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.
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The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10 Another watch for Grand Budapest because I bought the Criterion blu-ray. As unalterably perfect as ever. Blue Jay (2016) - 6/10 Rather good up to a point. My co-hosts and I did not agree on how good this movie was, which is a discussion you can listen to on my podcast. Shadow and Bone: The Afterparty (2021) - 3/10 For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed the first season of Shadow and Bone, which is why I wanted to see what ‘The Afterparty’ was about. This could have been a lot better and much less annoying if all those terrible comedians weren’t hosting and telling bad jokes. I don’t want to see Fortune Feimster attempt to tell a joke about oiling her body as the cast of the show sit awkwardly in their homes over Zoom. If it had simply been a half hour, 45 minute chat with the cast and crew about how they made the show and their thoughts on it, a lot of embarrassment and time-wasting could have been spared. Wadjda (2012) - 6/10 Another recommendation discussed at length on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Wadjda was pretty interesting from a cultural perspective but largely familiar in terms of story structure.
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Freddy Got Fingered (2001) - 2/10 A truly terrible movie with maybe one or two scenes that stop it from being a complete catastrophe. Tom Green tried to create something that almost holds a middle finger to everyone who watches it and to some that could be a fun experience, but to me it just came across as utterly irritating. It’s simply a bunch of scenes threaded together with an incredibly loose plot. He wears the skin of a dead deer, smacks a disabled woman over and over again on the legs to turn her on, and he swings a newborn baby around a hospital room by its umbilical cord (that part was actually pretty funny). I cannot believe I watched this again, although I think I repressed a lot of it since having seen it for the first time around five years ago. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 - (2011) I have to say, these movies seem to get better with each instalment. They’re still not very good though. That being said, I’m amazed at how many times I’ve watched each of the Twilight movies at this point. This time around, I watched Breaking Dawn - Part 1 with a YMS commentary track on YouTube and that made the experience a lot more entertaining. Otherwise, this film is super dumb but pretty entertaining. I would recommend watching these movies with friends. Solaris (1972) - 8/10 Andrei Tarkovsky’s grand sci-fi epic about the emotional crises of a crew on the space station orbiting the fictional planet Solaris is much as strange and creepy as you might expect from the master Russian auter. I had wanted to watch this for a while so I bought the Criterion blu-ray and it’s just stunning. It’s clear to see the 2001: A Space Odyssey inspiration but Solaris is quite a different beast entirely. Jaws (1975) - 4/10 I really tried to get into this classic movie, but Jaws exhibits basically everything I don’t like about Steven Spielberg’s directing. For sure, the effects are crazily good but the story itself is poorly handled and largely uninteresting. It was just a massive slog to get through.
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Darkman (1990) - 6/10 Sam Raimi’s superhero movie is so much fun, albeit massively stupid. Further discussion on Darkman can be found on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Darkman II: The Return of Durant (1995) - 1/10 Abysmal. I forgot the movie as I watched it. This was part of a marathon my friends and I did for episode 32 of our podcast. Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996) - 1/10 Perhaps this trilogy is not so great after all. Only marginally better than Darkman II but still pretty terrible. More thoughts on episode 32 of my podcast. F For Fake (1973) - 8/10 Rewatching this proved to be a worthwhile decision. Albeit slightly boring, there’s no denying how crazy the story of this documentary about art forgers is. The standout however, is the director himself. Orson Welles makes a lot of this film about himself and how hot his girlfriend is and it is hilarious.
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The Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - 4/10 More style over substance, Sony’s new animated adventure wants so much to be in trend with the current internet culture but it simply doesn’t understand what it’s emulating. There’s a nyan cat reference, for crying out loud. For every joke that works, there are about ten more that do not and were it not for the wonderful animation, it simply wouldn’t be getting so much praise. Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10 The first movie I’ve seen in a cinema since 2020 and damn it was good to be back! I’ve already reviewed Taxi Driver in my March wrap-up but seeing it in the cinema was a real treat. Irreversible (2002) - 8/10 One of the most viscerally horrendous experiences I’ve ever had while watching a movie. I cannot believe a friend of mine gave me the DVD to watch. More thoughts on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Don’t watch it with the family. The Golden Compass (2007) - 1/10 I had no recollection of this being as bad as it is. The Golden Compass is the definition of a factory mandated movie. Nothing it does on its own is worth any kind of merit. I would say, if you wanted an experience like what this tries to communicate, a better option by far is the BBC series, His Dark Materials. More of my thoughts can be found in the review I wrote on Letterboxd.
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Antichrist (2009) - 8/10 Lars von Trier is nothing if not provocative and I can understand why someone would not like Antichrist, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. After watching it, I wrote a slightly disjointed summary of my interpretations of this highly metaphorical movie in the group chat, so fair warning for a bit of spoilers and graphic descriptions: It's like, the patriarchy, man! Oppression! Men are the rational thinkers with big brains and the women just cry and be emotional. So she's seen as crazy when she's smashing his cock and driving a drill through his leg to keep him weighted down. Like, how does he like it, ya know? So then she mutilates herself like she did with him and now they're both wounded, but the animals crowd around her (and the crow that he couldn't kill because it's Mother nature, not Father nature, duh). Then he kills her, even though she could've killed him loads of times but didn't. So it's like "haha big win for the man who was subjected to such horrific torture. Victory!" And then all the women with no faces come out of the woods because it's like a constant cycle. Manchester By The Sea (2016) - 6/10 Great performances in this super sad movie. I can’t say I got too much out of it though. Roar (1981) - 9/10 Watching Roar again was still as terrifying an experience as the first time. If you want to watch something that’s loose on plot with poor acting but with real big cats getting in the way of production and physically attacking people, look no further. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen because it’s all basically real. Cannot recommend it enough. Eyes Without A Face (1960) - 8/10 I’m glad I checked this old French movie out again. There’s a lot to marvel at in so many aspects, what with the premise itself - a mad surgeon taking the faces from unsuspecting women and transplanting them onto another - being incredibly unique for the time. Short, sweet and entertaining!
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Se7en (1995) - 10/10 The first in a David Fincher marathon we did for The Sunday Movie Marathon, episode 33. Zodiac (2007) - 10/10 Second in the marathon, as it was getting late, we decided to watch half that evening and the last half on the following evening. Zodiac is a brilliant movie and you can hear more of my thoughts on the podcast (though I apologise; my audio is not the best in this episode). Gone Girl (2014) - 10/10 My favourite Fincher movie. More insights into this masterpiece in episode 33 of the podcast. Friends: The Reunion (2021) - 6/10 It was heartwarming to see the old actors for this great show together again. I talked about the Friends reunion film at length in episode 33 of my podcast.
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Wolfwalkers (2020) - 10/10 I reviewed this in an earlier post but would like to reiterate just how wonderful Wolfwalkers is. If you get the chance, please see it in the cinema. I couldn’t stop crying from how beautiful it was. Raya and The Last Dragon (2021) - 6/10 After watching Wolfwalkers, I decided I didn’t want to go home. So I had lunch in town and booked a ticket for Disney’s Raya and The Last Dragon. A child was coughing directly behind me the entire time. Again, I reviewed this in an earlier post but generally it was decent but I have so many problems with the execution. The Princess Bride (1987) - 9/10 Clearly I underrated this the last time I watched it. The Princess Bride is warm and hilarious with some delightfully memorable characters. A real classic!
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The Invisible Kid (1988) - 1/10 About as good as you’d expect a movie with that name to be, The Invisible Kid was a pick for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 34. Babel (2006) - 9/10 The same night that I watched The Invisible Kid, I watched a masterful and dour drama from the director of Birdman and The Revenant. Babel calls back to an earlier movie of Iñárritu’s, called Amores Perros and as I was informed while we watched this for the podcast, it turns out Babel is part of a trilogy alongside the aforementioned film. More thoughts in episode 34 of the podcast. Snake Eyes (1998) - 1/10 After feeling thoroughly emotionally wiped out after Babel, we immediately watched another recommendation for the podcast: Snake Eyes, starring Nicolas Cage. This was a truly underwhelming experience and for more of a breakdown into what makes this movie so bad, you can listen to us talk about it on the podcast.
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spencers-renaissance · 3 years ago
Text
you look after everyone, but who looks after you?
Summary: Penelope is sad and lonely and thinks nobody can see her struggling, but Emily does. When she shows up at her apartment unannounced, one thing leads to another, and soon a miserable evening turns into one of the best in Penelope's life.
Tags: hurt/comfort, sad penelope, angst w a happy ending, cuddling, tooth-rotting fluff, getting together, first kiss, friends to lovers
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Penelope Garcia
Word Count: 1.7k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
I'm imagining s5/6 penemily for this one!
Penelope's small and bright apartment is her only source of comfort tonight, and although she does absolutely everything in her power to maximise the cosiness, to feel as safe and warm as possible inside its protective walls, it still doesn't feel like enough.
She's sad, and she's tired, and a larger part of her than she'd like to admit is bitter, which is an icky emotion, and she hates more than anything that it exists inside of her but tonight, it does, and there isn't anything she can do to stamp that stubborn little flame out.
She has always prided herself on the way she acts towards others. She makes sure that people are okay, and she bakes homemade muffins and puts them on their desks with one of her colourful toys when the bad stuff is getting to them, and she gives out hugs like there's no tomorrow; that's who Penelope Garcia is, and it's something that will always be important to her, no matter what.
But sometimes— sometimes she wants her own Penelope Garcia. It's easier to cheer other people up, to make them smile on a sad and rainy day, than it is to pick herself up out of her own all-consuming, utterly inexorable funks that creep up on her every now and then. And because happiness, colour, and bright smiles are who she can't help but be, people don't always see through that facade when it's no longer an instinct but a mask.
And because she would never dream of putting her bad mood or her sadness or her heavy, weighty grief on the shoulders of anyone else, she's left on her own.
When the last candle is the living room is lit, and her favourite lamps are on; when she's taken a hot shower, and she's put on her favourite pyjamas; when she's placed the order for her dinner-for-one, she sits down slowly on the sofa and pulls her knees up to her chest, staring at the inky blackness of the one window she forgot to draw the curtains over. As she stares, the inky blackness she feels on the inside only grows until it consumes her, swirling aggressively until tears are streaming down her face, and she's choking back sobs that threaten to rip her chest in two.
She's only brought out of her miserable, desolate stupor when the intercom buzzes with a visitor that she supposes is probably the delivery man with her Chinese order. She'd fancied Indian, but it reminded her too much of the team dinners Spencer always dragged them to, and that was just a little too painful for a lonesome night like this.
"Come on up," she says into the intercom, not bothering to hide the tiredness in her voice from a stranger she'll never see again, and without waiting for a response, she sits back on the sofa, staring at the purple walls of her apartment until there's a soft knock at the door.
Almost on auto-pilot, she stands up and opens the door, and her eyes widen as she stares in shock at Emily Prentiss standing in her hallway.
"You're not the delivery man," she whispers, still staring at her with wide eyes.
Emily chuckles sadly. "No, Pen. I'm not."
Penelope nods, blinking a couple of times, very unsure of what to do next or why the woman she's secretly in love with is standing in front of her at 10pm on a Tuesday night.
"Can I come in?" Emily prompts.
"Oh, uh— yes, of course." She opens the door wide enough for Emily to slip into her warmly lit living room and takes the opportunity of Emily's back briefly turned to scrub fruitlessly at her makeup-less, tear-stained face.
"This is cosy."
"Yeah, I just reread my favourite book about Hygge."
"Hygge?"
"It's uh. It's a Danish thing." Usually, she jumps at the opportunity to talk about Hygge and all the things she'd learned from her trip to visit her Danish friend last year, but right now, she's far too tired.
Emily nods, dropping her handbag by the door and walking over to take a seat on the sofa. "Come sit."
Penelope obeys and curls up in the opposite end to Emily, pulling a blanket over her lap and cuddling into it in another vain attempt to cheer herself up. Still, when pretty candles and the promise of takeaway can't make her happy, there really isn't much hope.
They stare at each other for a couple of minutes before Emily speaks, leaning forward a little. "How are you feeling, Penelope?"
Penelope blinks. "I'm fine."
Emily smiles, and again, it's sad. "No, Pen. How are you really feeling?"
She continues staring but doesn't say anything in response.
Emily scoots a little closer on the sofa. "Listen, I've watched you over the last couple of days. I know you're having a hard time, and I know that you won't say anything to anyone because you're brave and strong and quiet in your suffering. You look after everyone, Penelope, but who looks after you?"
Immediately at hearing those words, her face crumples, and she descends into the tears she'd only just managed to stop moments earlier. This time, though, the sobs she'd been choking back spillover, wracking her shoulders as she hugs her knees to her chest, desperate to hold herself together as she completely falls apart.
"Oh, Pen." Emily moves even closer and pries Penelope's hands away from her knees until she's able to guide her into a hug. Penelope usually tries to keep her physical distance from Emily, too scared of what she'll do if given a chance to touch her, but right now, she can't help but bury her face in her neck and cling on to her for dear life as Emily holds her back just as tightly.
"Shh, you're okay, honey," she soothes quietly, running her hand up and down her back gently as she lets Penelope fall apart in her arms. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
She says everything Penelope needs to hear as she cries herself out, sobs eventually receding to tired sniffles as she pulls away from Emily slightly, a little embarrassed of her actions.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry on you like that."
Emily brings a hand to her chin and lifts her face gently until she's looking directly into Emily's warm, kind brown eyes. "You have nothing to apologise for, okay? I'm just sorry you've been having such a rough time and haven't had anyone to talk to about it."
Penelope nods, still embarrassed that she fell apart so easily but feeling soothed and comforted by Emily's warm words and gentle hands.
Just then, the buzzer goes again. "That's, uh, that's my dinner."
"Ah," Emily says, nodding in understanding. "Is that who you thought I was?"
Penelope looks away sheepishly. "Yeah."
"That explains the abrupt invitation upstairs," Emily says, smiling at her as she gets off the sofa and buzzes the courier up. "You mind if I stick around while you eat?"
"No! Please— please stay," she says, hating the desperation that bleeds into her voice.
"Okay, I'll stay, of course I will," Emily promises, rushing to soothe her again as she hears the agitation and distress in Penelope's voice. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
Penelope nods gratefully. "You can even have some of my eggrolls," she says, managing a little smile as she references the well-known fact that Emily despises eggrolls and makes such a big, dramatic deal out of it every time any of them order Chinese.
Emily laughs, her head tipping back a little. "You're so generous."
She opens the door for the delivery man and takes the bag from him, before bringing it over to the coffee table and laying it out in front of Penelope.
"You should eat up, sweetie," she says in that kind, concerned way of hers as she comes to sit next to her on the sofa, "I'm sure that crying took it out of you, hm?"
Penelope nods tiredly and tucks into her dinner as Emily flicks through the TV channels before settling on a rerun of Will & Grace. They sit in comfortable silence for a little while as the familiar sound of a 90s laugh-track sitcom fills the room and Penelope eats her dinner.
"You need another hug?" Emily asks once she's finished her food and is inching closer on the sofa, and Penelope might be delusional but she swears she sees an inkling of hope on her face, so she doesn't hesitate in nodding.
Emily beams and pulls her closer, arranging them until they're lying horizontally on the sofa, comfortably tangled up in one another, idly watching the TV while they enjoy the comfort of one another's company.
"Pen?" Emily whispers, after a good couple of episodes; after most of the tealights Penelope had lit earlier have burned themselves out. "You know I love you right?"
There's something in her voice that makes Penelope feel brave. "Yeah," she whispers back, burying even closer into her side. "I love you, too, Emily. More than you know."
The last four words are uttered with a weight the fragile air in the room can't hold, and they crash back down between them, making Emily shift to look at her properly. Her face is a myriad of earnest emotions, and Penelope can't look away.
"When I say I love you," Emily says, nerves and anticipation and hope in the whisper of her voice, "I mean it. I don't— I don't love you like a friend, Penelope. I love you more than that."
Penelope stares at her, her heart pounding in her chest as she looks at the woman lying next to her, anxious, hopeful features illuminated by soft candlelight.
"I love you more than that, too."
Emily's nervous features smooth into something warm and eager and happy. "You do?"
Penelope nods, and she's sure her face holds a similar expression. "I do."
"Can I kiss you?" Emily whispers, lifting her hand to rest in Penelope's blond, tangled hair.
"Please," she whispers back, and not a second later she's being kissed like she's never been kissed before; like the ocean's dried up and she's the last gulp of water to be found; like all the world's oxygen's disappeared, and she's the only gasp of fresh air left behind. She's kissed like she is Penelope Garcia and that is enough for Emily Prentiss, she's kissed like she doesn't need anything else but to exist in this moment, right here, right now.
She doesn't want it to end, but when it does, when they've pulled away and their faces are inches apart and they're breathing heavily, when she looks into Emily's eyes and sees everything she's always wanted to find in them, she's glad it did, because the first kiss ending means that they can do it again.
Yes, I'm gonna keep writing that Penelope is very invested in Danish culture okay, it's my fav headcanon, leave me alone. I hope you liked this one! <3
taglist: @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @enbyspencer @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @reidology @spencerspecifics @hotchedyke @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @sapphic-stress @wifeyprentiss @cmily @notevanbuckley (add yourself to my taglist here!)
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a-froger-epic · 4 years ago
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tw: mention of eating disorders
hey i read something about freddie having an eating disrorder, and I hate asking this but could you please explain if you know anything about it. my poor baby :(
Hey anon!
I’m sorry it took me a while to reply. This is a sensitive topic for many, so I wanted to take my time and give you the nuanced reply it deserves.
I’ve talked about this a little before, but I might as well take the opportunity now to speak about it at length. This is only my personal opinion based on everything I’ve read about Freddie and many different takes I’ve seen others put forward.
So, did Freddie have an eating disorder?
The shortest answer to that, as far as I’m concerned, is... maybe?
Before I carry on, I’d like to say that I think everyone is free to speculate about this and make up their own mind, as well as creatively explore this in their writing, and I don’t consider my opinion to be any more correct than anyone else’s.
Why do people think Freddie might have had an ED?
There are a few things about Freddie and food which could be interpreted as ED behaviours. First off, here is what Phoebe has to say about Freddie and his eating habits:
His taste in food changed over the years I was with Freddie. When I started the group of us would make monthly visits to the restaurant Shezan, an Indian eatery, in Knightsbridge. Freddie never had a menu as they always provided his favourite selection of foods without asking. As his illness progressed, his taste buds could not take the assault of spicy foods and he tended to more bland foods. He also turned his eating habits around. He used to have a lighter meal at lunch and then have a big meal in the evening, usually at a restaurant with a big group of friends. Towards the end he would eat more at lunch and a smaller meal in the evenings.
Nothing much out of the ordinary here, as far as I can see. Freddie definitely had favourite foods he enjoyed, but then, a common misconception is that people with EDs don’t like/enjoy food, and that isn’t true. Phoebe also says this:
As I have said before, Freddie was a very light eater. Some of us live to eat, but Freddie was one of those people who ate to live. He was the master of moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten a good amount. He did enjoy good food, but really didn’t need to consume very much. He loved entertaining guests at meals in the dining room at Garden Lodge and was able to disguise his non-eating by making sure everyone else was ok during the meal. Don’t get me wrong, Freddie always ate enough to keep him going, but I can’t remember one time when he leant back in the chair saying ‘I’m stuffed!’
Now here we have a lot of things to unpack. There are three things in here - moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten more, disguising his non-eating and never eating enough to be full - which are definitely known ED behaviours.
However, people who just do not care about food all that much and are light eaters do also exist. In fact, I’m one of them myself. I did struggle with Disordered Eating in my teens and my early 20s, but I have a healthy relationship with food now and I never like to eat until I’m stuffed because it’s not a nice feeling, physically, to overeat. I’m also someone who easily and genuinely forgets to eat when I’m in a creative haze. Just as an example.
Also, seeing as Freddie most likely was made to finish meals all throughout his boarding school times, like many children in lunch halls, which is usually not a great experience for children who are picky or light eaters, the “moving food around the plate to make it seem he’s eaten” could well be an old habit stemming from there.
Either way, Phoebe doesn’t seem too concerned about Freddie’s eating, and even though people with EDs are very good at hiding them, Phoebe did know him for a long time and very, very well. Phoebe could also be withholding information that he considers too private. All of that is possible, all of that is speculation.
There are other things which point to the fact that Freddie was definitely preoccupied with his weight/appearance. In this interview in 1974, he says:
“Oh really,” he exclaims in disgust, “this paper has no flair - I mean to print this picture three times in succession … and just look at my arms!” He was horrified, “look at how fat they appear, now my arms aren’t like that at all - what do you think?” He rolls up his sleeves for me to inspect and I’d like to state here and now that the poor dear’s arms are quite, quite slender!
The photo Freddie is most likely talking about, is this one:
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It’s not a very fortunate angle, admittedly. So I think it’s possible to see where he was coming from, but even so, he was worried about his arms looking fat at a time when he looked like this:
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Yes, it is important to keep in mind that people were generally thinner in the 70s than we are used to now. (Brian, for example, was also incredibly thin.) But in this picture it really is evident that Freddie was very, very thin at this point.
Other things which are often brought into the discussion around Freddie’s eating habits is the account of him throwing a fit when Brian ate one of his biscuits once, choosing to walk after a meal at a restaurant while his driver drove alongside him and his friends, eating cereal on the floor in his dressing room, this picture where he clearly prefers salad to chicken wings (unlike Roger “What Even Are Vegetables” Taylor):
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All of the above, to me, are things which can be heavily read into but ultimately don’t prove very much.
And there is this bit from Mercury & Me:
The Sun did later print a photograph of Freddie taken while he was performing at the festival, which he didn't appreciate. It showed off "Flabulous Freddie" with a slight paunch, wickedly describing it as his "midriff bulge". When he saw the picture he looked at me and shook his head in despair. 'It's typical,' he said. 'If I'm slim the papers say I'm too thin and if I put on a little bit of a belly they say I'm too fat. It's a no-win situation.'
Now, that doesn’t give off the impression to me that Freddie was particularly distraught about that article, at that point in his life. But it certainly appears to have bothered him to some degree.
So what’s the conclusion?
To me, personally, it seems quite likely that Freddie did suffer from Disordered Eating in the early to mid 70s. That’s really not uncommon, sadly, although it usually afflicts young women more than young men. But he was in the spotlight and had to care about his appearance. He was clearly very preoccupied with it, not only when it came to his body, but his looks in general - there is plenty of evidence regarding that. He was very selective about which photographs of himself he did and didn’t like. However, I find it impossible to say just how much this preoccupation affected him exactly. 1974 especially was also a very taxing year for Queen. Their management was shit, they struggled with money, they almost lost Brian, their touring schedules were brutal, the press was bashing them, Freddie was struggling with his sexual identity. There were a lot of immense stress factors, and he could have very well been someone who responded to stress by not eating - just like others respond to stress by eating too much. And Disordered Eating is not classed as an eating disorder. It is, if you will, the beginning of one.
Or, he absolutely could have developed or already had an actual ED which he was hiding fairly well, and it could have affected him a lot, but nobody would have ever known because he would have been unlikely to ever speak to anybody about it.
Both is possible. I simply don’t think that there is enough information to do more than speculate on the matter, beyond: He had a preoccupation with his looks and minded what and how much he ate throughout his life.
However, in the second half of the 70s as well as the 80s, he was still thin but had started working out and looked more “athletic” thin rather than gaunt. I think it’s entirely possible that whatever issues Freddie had with food were not a constant thing but something that may have been worse and better at times, depending on his overall mental well-being and his levels of confidence.
Or, it could have been something that he always struggled with.
Again, as far as I am concerned, both is possible and I don’t feel I can say for certain. And so, my take leans towards Disordered Eating when younger and less preoccupation with it later on. That’s the impression I get.
But I wrote all this out so that others can make up their own minds, and rather than share my exact opinion, I encourage you to do just that.
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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago
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Forced kiss
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: obsession, stalking, mention of self-loathing, allusion to kidnapping.
Words: 1937.
Summary: Stumbling upon a girl kissing the statue of him in a museum, Steve grows worried of her.
P.S. Who wanted some soft!dark!Steve? Here you go guys!  P.P.S I’m terribly sorry for not answering all your lovely comments and asks. I promise to catch up soon!
______________________
Steve wasn’t a big fan of museums, really. Not that he was against cultural education, but more often than not Rogers felt like he was a museum piece, a part of the exhibition. Looking back at all those things he missed while being under the ice was still painful as hell, too. However, when he saw Madame Tussauds wax museum and Chaplin’s and Einstein’s sculptures, Steve decided he could spare a few minutes of his time.
In fact, the museum was closing in just half an hour, one of the staff had informed him, but once Steve lifted his sunglasses and smiled, the man fell silent and then immediately showed him where the entrance was. Having some privileges was nice, even though Steve didn’t use them often.
There was only one other visitor except him, a girl in an old gray jacket wandering the rooms filled with perfect wax figures of famous people. Steve felt at ease - he didn’t appreciate being in crowded places when he just wanted some peace. But here, among the silent sculptures of strangers, the man felt like he was that Brooklyn boy again. No one stalking him with a camera, no one shouting things behind his back, no one asking for a photo or his signature. It was perfect.
Despite the fact he didn’t know more than half of celebrities whose figures were there, Steve still enjoyed it, looking at perfect waxwork, all those faces and wigs and costumes and jewelry. Of course, he saw all kind of statues, but this was something entirely different. He decided he needed to come here again and spend some more time looking at these artworks in complete silence, no one watching him round corners. 
Then he reached the last room and realized that, among others, there were figures of Avengers, his included. The girl was there, too, standing right opposite his own sculpture in a navy blue uniform with a shield in his hand. Steve found it funny that the figure literally had his face. Whoever crafted it was very talented, indeed.
The girl kept standing there, frozen on the spot, as she stared at Captain’s sculpture, and Steve wondered why she had been looking at it for so long. Now he was watching not the figures but her, peering at her over his shoulder. Had she seen him in real life? Did this figure remind her of real him? Steve was getting more and more curious with each passing second.
Suddenly, she got even closer and rose up onto her toes, and he saw her touching the lips of a sculpture with hers. She was kissing his figure.
The next moment she flew past him to the exit, probably deeply embarrassed, and Steve barely had time to pretend like he was looking at Hulk’s huge sculpture, not her. He needed a few seconds to fully understand what was going on here.
Did she know him? Did she love him? He couldn’t remember her face, so she was probably one of his countless admirers. It shouldn’t had surprised him, really, but Steve was still thinking of her kissing his statue in an empty wax museum.
He didn’t know why he decided to follow her, but he did. 
Rogers found her pretty quickly, hurrying down the street, wrapped in her jacket like in an invisible cloak. Now he had time to see properly how she looked like, what she wore except that old jacket, what she carried with her, how she walked, where she hurried so much. 
Why did she kiss his statue? Did she harbor a secret crush? Did she do it just because she felt an urge to do something silly? Did she want to know how his lips would feel against hers? These questions were tearing Steve apart while he kept following the girl, watching her shying away from strangers and timidly holding her bag. He could see she was still very much embarrassed.
When she hid inside the building, Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to know the truth. He was searching for the girl’s window with such persistence as if his life depended on it, climbing the fire escape ladder in the dark. Did he expect to see posters with his face hanging on the walls? Maybe he did, though Steve wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t saw them. Instead, he found the girl’s drawings. Yes, he was on some of them, too. 
A part of him knew it wasn’t really nice to watch the girl leaving her bag on the couch and then proceeding to the powder room, probably, but he decided it wouldn’t hurt her if she wouldn’t know. In the end, he wasn’t a deranged stalker following his crush. He was Captain America, for God’s sake, and not some creep.
The girl didn’t seem different from any other young ladies he was seeing daily. She wasn’t breathtakingly beautiful; she didn’t have a memorable face. Nothing about her seemed special, yet Steve couldn’t quite shake the feeling there was something he just couldn’t see. 
When she lowered herself on the dark brown couch and brought her hands to her face, he realized she was crying. Why? Out of embarrassment? Humiliation? Regret? She kept wiping her tears again and again, and Steve felt disturbed for not knowing the reason why she cried. This strange need to know was getting under his skin.
Steve went home without the answers he craved for, disappointed and tired. While he didn’t really understand why any of this mattered to him, he was determined to learn what he could about the girl and her reasons, eventually. He couldn’t get a picture of her kissing his statue out of his mind, and when he laid in bed that night, he still remembered her crying helplessly in her little studio, wiping the wet tracks with the back of her hand.
Soon he knew many things about her, including her name, age, family, place she grew up, name of kids who bullied her at school, the college where she studied now, her cumulative GPA, and what her favorite courses were. It did not, however, make him understand why she did what she did. From what Steve could see, the girl was very shy and had troubles connecting with people because of her self-esteem issues. But why did she kiss his statue? Was she feeling so lonely the only one she could be a bit affectionate with was his wax copy?
He needed to get closer to her to see.
Steve didn’t consider breaking in her apartment a bad thing. He wasn’t a burglar or anyone who wanted to harm her. Maybe he was the exact opposite, hoping to figure out what was wrong and then give girl a hand. In the end, Captain America had always helped the ones who needed him, right?
Her studio was really tiny, but pretty clean, too, and Steve could swear he still felt the smell of pancakes she did that morning. He found it comforting as he inspected her kitchen and found out she was practicing her baking skills, cooking apple pies and brownies and red velvet cupcakes. Actually, he even thought of stealing some from her but quickly dropped that idea. Who was he? Some petty criminal or something? Steve was sure the girl would give him a little bit of those willingly if he asked. He even thoughts he deserved it after all the troubles she brought him.
The drawings hanging on the wall above her desk were nothing special, yet when Steve pictured the girl doing them he felt something warm spreading in his chest. Even if she wasn’t best at what she was doing, it still felt nice to see her trying. Knowing people surrounding her, he doubted anyone tried to recognize her efforts and tell her something nice. He definitely would, Steve thought then.
Her clothes were pretty plain and often baggy. He didn’t appreciate it, actually, but he knew she dressed that way because she didn’t believe she’d look good in anything else. Steve thought he’d be happy to prove her wrong - in his mind she’d be perfect in one of that 50s red dresses with wide skirts, her shining red shoes tapping when she walked with him in the park. 
When Steve inspected her desk and found a little diary, he opened it almost nervously, knowing he would get the answers he was searching for.
The first pages had barely anything important - the girl was writing about her first days in college, being far away from her family, and that very same studio she managed to rent. Then she wrote about her classes and classmates, cool Indian restaurant opposite of the studio, a new pack of pencils she bought, her nice neighbors... There were a lot of drawings, too, and sometimes Steve stumbled upon his own face or the star on his suit. 
But the more he read, the darker her stories became, and soon he found out how deeply she hated herself, how many destructive thoughts she harbored. It was truly disturbing for Steve to read about her desire to be someone she wasn’t, wishing not to look the way she did or have talents she didn’t have. Sometimes she wrote about self-harm, and it got him truly frightened. After a few more pages he found several notes about himself where she wrote how she was looking up to him, watching those funny videos he had to film for schools and visiting the Smithsonian again. She wrote she stopped thinking about doing something to herself because this wasn’t a right thing to do - there was a little doodle of his smiling face at the end of the page. Then he read a few kind words about himself, again.
The girl didn’t keep on harming herself because of Steve, it was clear as day.
He read and he read, growing more and more sure the girl loved him, treating him as if he was a god-like being. Of course, Steve knew of some of his fans being delirious, but this wasn’t something like that, he was sure. It felt like she knew him despite never meeting him in person, and her strange devotion to him was keeping her safe and sane.
However, then Steve reached the page where the girl wrote about the day when she saw his wax statue in Madam Tussaud’s. He didn’t really know what to expect, but he didn’t think he’d see the whole three pages filled with words of deep self-hatred either. The girl was angry at herself for that silly little kiss. 
“Why did I do that?” She wrote in her diary, and Steve imagined how she trembled as her writing got rather messy. “How could I do something so disrespectful and stupid? I’m lucky no one spotted me or made a photo. If Captain America saw it somewhere on Twitter, I would end my life with a knife.”
He really, really wanted to drop the diary on the couch he was sitting on, but Steve had to go till the end, seeing she was drawing him less and less, saying something about not deserving it. Steve bit down on his lower lip, realizing he had to put an end to this, and finally left the diary on her desk.
He decided to wait for the girl’s return and take her with him to help her out with her self-esteem issues. Of course, he was sure she would try to resist and push him away, but he needed to take care of her for her own safety.
___________________
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mldrgrl · 4 years ago
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Broken Things 2/24
by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes
Mulder blinks in surprise at the widow’s sudden dismissal.  He’s overwhelmingly concerned for the welfare of this woman he’s just met and he has no idea what to do about it, but he does know he can’t just leave her here.  
Moments ago he was looking around this house, thinking that it might just crumble around them where they stood.  The place looks to be already abandoned, far worse than when Old Man Goodwin was living here, and he wasn’t much of a housekeeper.  There are no furnishings.  No dishware or pots and pans that he can see.  No lamps.  Not a knick knack or vase of flowers.  She has nothing.  Less than nothing, really, and he finds that to be unbearable.
The only thing Mulder knows about the widow, Katherine, is that she’s well-spoken and has been educated.  Somewhere along the way there has to have been a fall from grace.  Life has handed her a raw deal, that much he can gather, but there’s a spark of determination in her to keep her head above it all.  She’s utterly captivated him and he’ll be damned if he’s going to let anything happen to her.
A wild idea pops into his head and he’s never been one to pass on a whim, wild or not.  His gut tells him what he’s thinking might be crazy, but he’s followed his gut on crazier notions before and he’s learned to trust his instincts.
“Marry me,” he says.
“I’m...sorry?” Katherine asks.  Her right eyebrow lifts into a perfectly peaked arch and he’s never found anything so endearing in his life.
“Hear me out before you object.”
“I’m listening.”
“Do you have a copy of the lease your husband signed?”
“I do.”
“May I see it?”
She hesitates for a moment, but then turns and moves to the back of the room.  She reaches under the bedstead and returns with a tattered bible which she thumbs through and takes out a folded scrap of paper.  He takes it from her, unfolds it, and then reads it.
“This is good,” he says.  “Exactly as I’d hoped.  Your husband signed a five-year lease with an option to purchase at the end of the term.  Do you know if he has a will?”
“None I’m aware of.”
“And there are no children?”
Her lips part on a breath and then she closes them again and swallows before answering.  “I am unable to have children.”
“I see.”  He folds the lease agreement back along the original creases and hands it back to her.  She slips it into the pages of the bible again.  “Well, in the absence of any will, you would be the sole beneficiary.  If we were to marry, I would assume your assets as well as your debts.  I can pay what’s owed and if Mr. Skinner will allow it, make good on the option early.  And you do know that it would also mean that what I own becomes yours as well.”
“I am quite certain you could own this land without marrying me.”
“That’s true I probably could.  But, then where would that leave you?”
“I haven’t quite solved that particular problem yet, but you certainly don’t need to concern yourself with it.”
“Oh, but I do.  Now that I know you, I can’t leave you here.  You’ll be removed from the property soon enough and with no people to come for you or to return to...well, I couldn’t stand by and see that happen.  My conscience would not allow it.”
“I could find work.”
“Out here?  The only spot in town that would hire you is a house of ill-repute.  Unless you plan to walk to Fort Worth, and even then there aren’t a lot of...look, I bet you know how to mend things?  Cook some?  Clean?”
“Of course.”
“I would offer you a job in that respect, but towns are small and people talk.  If I take you on as a single woman to a ranch with six men about, people may think something improper was going on and that would affect business.”
“I’m not your responsibility, Mr. Mulder.”
“All my friends just call me Mulder.  You might not be my responsibility, but I happen to like you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know you’re smart and you’re kind and I enjoy speaking with you.  And I know you don’t deserve to be put out on the street with nowhere to go and no people to turn to.”
She looks down and away from him and he moves his hand out to lift her chin, but thinks better of it and doesn’t touch her.  He knows horses a lot better than he knows people, and hardly knows a thing about women, but she reminds him of a spooked colt and he doesn’t want to overwhelm her and cause her to retreat.  Horses will hurt themselves out of fear, and she just might do the same.
“Think of it as a business arrangement,” he says.  “You will be in charge of the household duties, and if you ever decide you’d like to leave, I will be sure you’ll go with the value of this land in your pocket.”
“Cooking, cleaning, mending,” she mumbles.  “What else might you be expecting?”
“I’m not looking for sport, if that’s what you’re thinking.  I told you, there’s a house in town and If it was sport I was after, there are certainly far cheaper alternatives.  Excuse me for being blunt.”
“No, I appreciate your honesty.”
“You can trust me.”
“I’d like to believe that.”  With her head still lowered, she reaches up and brushes the side of her hand across her eye.  “What if one day you find a woman you actually wish to marry?  Start a family.  What would happen then?”
“You don’t have to worry about that.  I have a singular focus and nothing else matters to me.  But, if you should wish to marry, one day-”
“I won’t,” she says quickly, and firmly, shaking her head down at the floor.  “I do not wish to marry again.  I mean...aside from what you’re proposing.”
“Is that a yes?”
“You would really do all of this for a bit of land?”
“It’s good land.”  He pauses and twists his lips for a moment or two.  “But, as I’ve told you, it’s not just for the land.”
She finally glances up at him, but then quickly looks away again.
“Do you believe in fate?” he asks.
“I believe God has a plan for everyone.”  Her brows furrow.  “But, fate?  Logically, I would have to say no.”
“One of my horses threw a shoe today.  I wasn’t supposed to go into town this morning, and yet I did.  If Faithful Jenny hadn’t thrown that shoe, I wouldn’t have been in town and I wouldn’t have found out about your husband.  If I hadn’t found out about your husband, I wouldn’t have ridden out here.  If I wouldn’t have ridden out here, I wouldn’t have met you.”
“But, if you weren’t away on business, you could have had this land six months ago, as you said.”
“Exactly my point.  If I had purchased this plot six months ago, you never would’ve shown up here.  I think this is meant to be.  I think this is fate.”  
“I don’t know about that, but...may I have a day to think this over?”
“Of course you may.  And please, let me take you away from here.  There are coyotes and bears that are apt to prowl around at night and this door doesn’t look very stable.  Not to mention the drifters that pass through and the Indians that roam about, though they won’t usually do you any harm unless provoked.  Still, I’d feel better if you’d come with me now.”
“Wouldn’t that look improper?” she asks, and her brow quirks again, only this time it feels a little more playful.  
“Yes, Ma’am, it would, if I were to bring you home.  I was planning on setting you up in town.”
“Surely not to the house of ill-repute?”
He smiles, glad that she’s in good enough humor to engage in a bit of banter.  “John Byers and his wife Susannah operate the mercantile in town.  They also have extra room since their boy, Franklin, has gone off to school.  When I tell you that Susannah would be delighted for a lady friend, it might be an understatement.”
“If I leave with you, what if Mr. Skinner shows up?”
“I’ll handle Skinner.”
Leaving with this stranger will not be the most rash thing she’s ever done, but it will be high on the list amongst the impetuous things she has done in her life.  There’s something about him though that calms her insecurities and makes her feel like she can trust him.  Besides, there really doesn’t seem to be any other option except to sit and wait to be evicted.
“Bring with you whatever you might need for a short time,” he tells her.  “We can come back with a cart for anything else.”
But, there is nothing to come back for once she packs her nightgown, her bible, a tin cup, a broken hair comb, and a deerskin blanket into a burlap sack she’s been toting for the last few years.  He looks at the sack and then at her and around the small sod house as if he’s waiting for more possessions to magically present themselves.
“This is everything I have,” she tells him.  
“Alright then.”  He nods and puts his hat back on.
His horse is very fine looking.  Yellow, with a white mane.  It whinnies when it sees him and he scratches it under the chin and rubs its nose.  For a moment, it almost looks as though they’re holding a private conversation, with the horse nodding and whinnying and Mulder whispering softly to it.  The horse scrapes a front hoof into the dirt and Mulder pats it gently on the shoulder.
“This is Blondie,” he says, smiling as he turns to her.  “I was letting her know to be on her best behavior while you’re on her back.  Do you ride?”
“I’ve ridden some when I was younger.  I can walk, though.”
“We have to cross a creek up a bit and you’ll be safer and drier up here.  Don’t worry, she’s nice and gentle.  I’ll lead her.  All you have to worry about is sitting straight and not falling off.”
“And getting up.”  She eyes the stirrups on the saddle and estimates they’re at least as high as her shoulders.
Mulder chuckles and takes the sack from her.  She notes the consideration he takes in placing it down on a patch of grass a few feet away and doesn’t drop it in the dirt.  He comes back very close to the horse’s side and lunges forward a bit and slaps his knee.
“Go on and grab the saddle horn with your left hand and step on up with your left foot.  You may have to lift your skirts a bit to throw your leg on over.”
It takes her three starts to gain the momentum to hoist herself up.  She does what he tells her to though and gathers her skirts up.  She knows she should be embarrassed by the holes in her shoes and that she has no stockings, but she lost the ability to care about such things a long time ago.
“Well done,” he says, and then passes the sack up to her.  “I’m going to adjust these stirrups to fit and we’ll be on our way.”
He works the buckles and straps swiftly and expertly and apologizes for touching her ankle when her foot momentarily gets in the way.  After he’s done, he brings the reins down over the horse’s head and turns it away from the house.  Katherine realizes, once they’re some ways away, that she never even had the thought of turning back for a last look.
He tells her about the potential he sees in the land as they walk.  He tells her about the corral he’d like to put up and how he would like to expand his business of training horses.
“You’re not from here,” she says at one point when he’s lost in his rambling.
“No, I grew up back east.  Massachusetts.”
“How did you come to be so interested in horses?”
“Hand down that sack and hold on tight here, we’ll be crossing the creek and the horse could slip.”
She gives him her burlap bag and holds firm to the horn of the saddle.  He throws the sack over one shoulder and guides the horse towards a small embankment and then tests the footing before they cross.  She’s barely jostled by it.  He stomps his boots once they’re back on dry land and hands the sack back up to her.
“That’s my girl,” he says, patting the horse lightly on the neck.  The horse snorts and its ears twitch.  “That creek was the dividing line of our properties.”
“Perhaps not for long.”
“Hopefully.”
The faint aroma of fire is in the air and she can see a thin curl of grey smoke in the distance.  She sees Mr. Mulder breathe deep and then smile broadly.
“Looks like Melvin has noon dinner on the stove,” he says.  “We’ll eat before we head into town.”
She doesn’t tell him, but she hasn’t eaten for almost three days.  The pump behind the house gave plenty of water, but their food stock was depleted even before her late husband left last Saturday.  She was able to boil some dandelions for a couple of days, but quickly ran out of matchsticks.  Her stomach clenches and her mouth waters at the thought of food.
“So, you want to know how I came by the horse business,” he says.
“Mmhm,” she murmurs.
“When I was five years of age, there was a cholera outbreak in Boston.  My parents, in their wisdom, felt that the city was unsafe for their children and they sent us away to live with my father’s dowager aunt at her country estate.”
“Was that difficult?  Being away from your parents?”
“Not at all, actually.  Auntie was a great lover of the outdoors and of children.  She cared for my sister and I like we were her own, spoiled us as though we were as well.  She gave me a little pony with a little cart for my birthday and that’s where it started, I suppose.”
“What happened when you went back to Boston?”
“Ah, well.  I didn’t.”
“You didn’t?”
“The cholera took my mother.  My father was not as equipped to care for children as Auntie was.  He allowed my aunt to adopt us and then he eventually remarried and I have a younger stepbrother named Jeffrey who I don’t know much about except that he’s probably of the age to start college soon enough.”
“And what about your sister?”
“Her name was Samantha.”
“Was?  Oh.  I’m sorry to have-”
“You do not have to apologize.”  He stops the horse and looks up at her.  “It was a long time ago.  She was eight when she passed on.  Smallpox.  She loved horses even more than I do.  Blondie was actually her horse.  Of course, she was a bitty little filly at the time, but Sam made me promise to take care of her, and I have.  She’s been with me nigh on thirteen years now.”
Katherine doesn’t know what to say to this.  The small smile Mulder gives her after he stroke’s the horse’s cheek is a sad one.  It’s a painful reminder of the grief she also carries that she’s never spoken so freely about.  She’s never spoken about it at all, in fact, and she can’t ever see a time when she will be able to.
The rest of the journey to the ranch is in silence.
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jyndor · 4 years ago
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I’m rewatching the Puppetmaster for ~research~ and ugh.This is such a good episode but I cannot stand the treatment of Hama and also Katara’s special bending ability. And I’m gonna talk about it because I can’t help myself. But I also want to offer a solution maybe something that the writers could have done instead. Granted I’m a white US American so while I am about to talk about imperialism, anti-indigenous racism and racialized misogyny, I am coming from a position of privilege here and ymmv. It’s important that we as fans (especially white fans) acknowledge the things that our favorite stories can do better so that we can make our fandoms safer for everyone.
And btw fans of color have been talking about this so I definitely am going to be quoting some phenomenal bits of critique I have read on here. Also you should follow @shewhotellsstories and @visibilityofcolor for anti-racist fandom commentary.
I am also going to talk about grooming, so just be aware if that is a trigger for you.
I. Hama as a Campfire Horror Story Monster
The episode starts out with the Gaang camping in a creepy forest telling ghost stories to each other. Set to spooky music, Katara tells a story about something that happened to Kya, a friend named Nini (likely) dying in a snowstorm and then haunting her family’s home as a ghost. Immediately after, Toph hears people screaming under the ground - and then Hama finds them and invites them to her inn.
Every so often, Hama says something spooky with the spooky music playing. Katara immediately takes to Hama, but the others (especially Sokka) find her pretty unnerving. Katara says she reminds her of Gran Gran before Sokka starts snooping around and finds a bunch of puppets and a comb from the Southern Water Tribe. It’s the standard horror movie fakeout.
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Every so often we get an artfully placed hint about Hama’s agenda - pulling water out of thin air, showing Katara that “plants - and all living things” are made of water. And oh yeah, she makes herself ice claws. Cool skill, but in the context of the episode, a little more unnerving.
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The “moon monster” that Old Man Ding mentions, the alleged Moon spirit, turns out to be Hama (of course) and the tension builds to a peak as the Gaang rush to save Katara from the “dark puppetmaster” that has imprisoned the villagers.
Meanwhile Hama and Katara stand under the full moon washed in spooky cool lighting with an ominous breeze around them. You see Hama practically transform into a monster in a way sort of reminiscent to a werewolf - her fingers become claw-like, her veins pop out. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it’s a coincidence that as she reveals her true agenda, she becomes less human in appearance. Which... okay I’ll get to that later.
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While I can’t say that Katara fits the Final Girl trope very well, I do think it’s interesting to note that horror movies often do feature women as heroes who defeat the monster/killer/whatever and usually the Final Girl is used to allow audiences to experience the full horror of the villain, which absolutely is how Katara is used here. Yes, her friends come to help, but she saves everyone in the end (my queen).
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So here’s why that’s bullshit.
Framing Hama as a horror story monster make sense when you don’t think about the Implications of framing the indigenous woman POW living surrounded by people who have benefited from Fire Nation imperialism. It does - it’s a common trope: the reclusive witch who first seems kindly to some lost/wandering children before revealing her true intention - to use them for her own purposes. Yeah, I know they’re playing on Hansel and Gretel. But yeah, I’m gonna call bullshit on that too - drawing on a c*nnabalistic witch for inspiration when you’re writing an indigenous woman character is probably not the way to go.
II. Hama the Puppetmaster* and Groomer
A puppet master is obviously a puppeteer, and Hama has puppets (creepy though they may be). But in terms of the underlying meaning, she’s a chessmaster, an Emperor Palpatine/Dick Cheney kind of master manipulator who works mostly through other people. What most people would consider a psychopath (in layman’s terms). When her friendly mask falls, she is terrifying.
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She is cold, calculating, manipulative as fuck - she isolates Katara almost immediately. Hama uses Katara’s desire to connect with her culture to groom her to become a weapon. It’s actually such a good example of grooming that it has to be purposeful:
Targeting a victim - Hama hears that Katara and Sokka are from the SWT. She also hears Katara tell a story about Kya. To Hama, a waterbender from her own culture is a hell of a target.
Gaining trust - Hama reaches out to Katara in particular, is especially kind to her, gives her individual attention that the others don’t get. She prepares a SWT feast for them and tells the Gaang about her heritage when they go snooping.
Filling a need - so once Hama has given Katara reason to trust her about waterbending, she promises Katara to pass on SWT waterbending heritage that only Hama knows. She fills a unique need of Katara’s.
Isolation - From then on out, we don’t see Katara with the rest of the Gaang until the end of the episode. Hama seems like a normal teacher but she does start to drop little hints, pushing Katara very gently to see how she will react to her real agenda and desensitizing Katara to what would otherwise seem unacceptable coming from someone else who hasn’t established that unique trust. “You’ve got to keep an open mind, Katara.”
So this would be the point at which Hama would make sexual contact but this is metaphorical so that obviously doesn’t happen. What does happen is Hama pushes Katara’s limits. She makes her pretty uncomfortable with the idea of killing the fire lilies for water, but when Hama appeals to their shared history of marginalization she gets over it.
Maintaining control: Hama makes her final move, which is obviously bloodbending, and reveals her true agenda - and when Katara refuses to manipulative living beings’ blood, Hama violates her bodily agency. And not only this, but she pushes Katara into bloodbending when she victimizes the Gaang, fully realizing her control. 
Hama sees it as a victory, and telling Katara breaks down at the end in one of the most emotional scenes in the show. She feels like so many of us have felt at some point: violated, betrayed by someone we trusted. And then they never really deal with that.
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I actually think that’s the point of The Puppetmaster, especially given ATLA being a show for children. I think it’s supposed to be a metaphor for csa.
And... okay.
Undoubtedly it is important to send these messages to kids. And yes, people usually are victimized by those closest to them, by those in their own communities. But not indigenous women. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but according to the National Congress of American Indians, Native American women  and girls are more likely to be sexually assaulted by non-NA men. 57% of cases are perpetrated by white men. Not the people in their communities.
Choosing to tell this story with an indigenous woman POW (who very likely would have been victimized herself lbr) is a choice that I find really aggravating. When writers tell stories with a Point, it is incredibly important for those writers to understand the implications of what they are saying about the characters who they are using to make that point.
Like I’m not saying don’t make that point, or don’t use Katara (who would in real life be at a higher risk of sexual violence than the others) to make it, but why make the perpetrator someone who is statistically unlikely to be Katara’s abuser? I’m not sure I have a good answer to that question. My guess is, like with making Hama animalistic and about as unsympathetic as it gets, the writers just had blinders on about the cultural implications of what they were saying.
Not even considering the whole victimizing-the-“innocents”-of-the-Fire-Nation-town plot, Hama’s not a good person. This is probably because she was driven mad by the need for revenge, which, eurgh okay, but still it’s very apparent that she is not interested in winning over Katara’s support directly or honestly.
* also the antisemitic history of this trope hmm.
III. Hama and The Victims of Genocide Victimizing Oppressors #NotAllFireNation
Okay. So this is the part that I think annoys me the most because it’s so bad. Like, imagine for a minute that you’re a white guy and you’re gonna tell a story about a victim of genocide who is completely divorced from her culture and homeland, and furthermore is an escaped prisoner of war who has radicalized in prison - okay it just hit me, I know what they MIGHT have been going for, like maybe some kind of anti-Gitmo statement? But that didn’t happen. People who were stolen away from Iraq and imprisoned illegally in Guantanamo Bay, and who were released after being detained illegally, haven’t really shown any real radicalization. They’re pissed at the US for victimizing them, but like that seems pretty fair considering so many of them did nothing wrong.
That’s been the US government’s excuse for not releasing innocent people who were detained illegally. The idea that prisoners of war radicalized in Gitmo so they can’t be released because they’ll attack the US is propaganda. I’m not saying it hasn’t happened, but that’s where it comes from.
Considering the time period ATLA was written, considering how much of it was inspired by the US wars of aggression and imperialism, considering how political ATLA is (and why it was so popular during its initial run - during the years that Bush lost a ton of popularity) I think if that’s what they were thinking about, that’s not great.
But for all of Avatar’s good messaging on imperialism and war, it’s still written from a white US American mindset. Well surely I’m not responsible, surely you shouldn’t imprison and abuse me, a random white girl in the States. It’s my government, which I cannot control because of two-party politics or some shit.
So first off, that’s shitty because oppression is often about systems, not individuals. Sure we need to always consider the individual experiences of people who are victimized, but the people who are benefiting from imperialism? Me? Fuck if I care if someone in El Salvador or Iraq or Chile or idk any of the countries we have meddled in, let alone from a marginalized community in the United States, hates white US Americans for what our government has done - and that’s even silly because white US citizens support our government. Like we think the institutions are sound, although sometimes we don’t support the guy in charge. We think the cops are going to help us, even though that isn’t really the case.
Why frame it about what she’s doing to the Fire Nation civilians at all? Why make Hama the villain? I don’t think they wanted her to be unsympathetic, I mean they tell her story and I don’t think anyone would conclude that it doesn’t justify her desire for revenge, but why tell this story through a victim of genocide?
Recently I saw a post by @sunkin-akh where they point out that Hama basically quotes Malcolm X:
I was literally just watching the Hama episode again and I just noticed for the first time that while forcing Katara to bloodbend she says that they must fight back against the Fire Nation (and she used this exact phrase) “by any means necessary”, which is Frantz Fanon’s phrase popularized by Malcolm X during the Civil Rights Movement (iirc). They directly compared Black liberation to Hama’s evil acts and it disgusted me.
The full context:
Hama: The choice [to use bloodbending] is not yours. The power exists. And it’s your duty to use the gifts you’ve been given to win this war. Katara, they tried to wipe us out, our entire culture, your mother.
Katara: I know.
Hama: Then you should understand what I’m talking about. We’re the last waterbenders of the Southern Tribe, we have to fight these people whenever we can, wherever they are, with any means necessary.
I find that so appalling because it is framing resistance, specifically anti-racist resistance, as barbaric and monstrous. And given the way that Hama is portrayed at this point, about as inhuman as anyone in ATLA, that is extra gross.
Finally, after Katara defeats Hama, she is lead away by the authorities in CHAINS.
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So now the FN cops are the good authorities who we’re gonna trust a SWT waterbender with? I mean she’s a villain so we’re probably not supposed to feel bad for her, like yeah sure the FN is usually bad but she’s a criminal so it’s okay that they take a POW back into custody.
No, no, no.
I know I am reading into this far more than the writers intended - but that’s kind of the point of critically engaging with media. Because shockingly writers don’t always question their choices - they are people and have implicit biases just like all of us. When those writers come from a privileged culture that has colonized the culture they are using as “inspiration” for their story, they need to be extra mindful of how they represent those people.
IV: How To Write Hama
Well, I’m not gonna talk over indigenous fans on this one on specifics, and you should read this rewrite by @kispesan​  but my thoughts generally are:
lose the horror framing it’s just not right for this context and this character
don’t frame Malcolm X as a villain because that’s nasty and racist
have Katara learn to use bloodbending in ways that she is comfortable with (and not just like once in one episode where she’s extra vengeful and the hero of the show doesn’t approve of her actions JFC) and don’t make the dark-skinned girl the only character whose special bending skill is dubious (I know she also has healing but still)
bring Hama home
have indigenous people in the writers room
Anyway, I’ve gone on wayyy too long. Let me know if I am speaking out of turn please if you feel that I am. and I’m sure I had other thoughts but if you want to read some other good pieces of Hama meta, I’ve listed some below:
post and another post by @marsreds​
this post and this post by @visibilityofcolor​
this post by @shewhotellsstories​
anyway katara is a queen and should have been allowed to heal, and hama never should have been irredeemable because if you can make iroh redeemable, if the show was going to redeem AZULA, you can make hama redeemable.
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emilieautumnarchives · 3 years ago
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Barley, mother fuckers!!!
Posted: October 11, 2005 Archived from The BonnyTymePyrate LiveJournal Archived from BonnyTymePyrate's Journal Archive Archived from The Official Asylum Forum  (read more)
Oh my!
What can I say about today? I almost want to document it before it leaves my eolian mind…first there was the cabbie on the way to the show…he was this clearly educated Indian man who was far more articulate than most Americans I know, but even more notably, he was on a mission to educate his passengers on the hidden agenda of the US government, and what’s more, he was bloody right on! He also claimed to record poetry (an Indian after my own heart), and will have a copy of his reading of T.S. Eliot for me the next time he picks me up. He told me jokes too, blond jokes to be exact, that he had written himself and recited upon asking me my real hair color and learning that it was indeed…blond. One of them was something like, “What happened when the blond crossed the road? She ran into the chicken that was also crossing the road.” Ahh, sweet taxi humor… He said a very strange thing…he was going on about the various heinous sex/torture crimes committed against women and children for profit every year, with some rape/dismemberment videos being sold to unidentified dignitaries for $20,000 per copy…and he got choked up, and felt the need to tell me that he wasn’t “gay.” I assured him that weeping doesn’t make one homosexual, but poor thing, some jackass must have told him otherwise at some point…he needs to keep better company. I made him feel better by recounting the many times I’ve broken down while watching CNN, and he seemed at ease. He plied me with a list of informational URLS, and I pray he goes on to do a documentary at some point, because his knowledge of world political history was really truly impressive.
Then there was the event itself…the free drinks downstairs at Smartbar didn’t abate my shock at how few people had come down to support the cause. More were upstairs with the less-pricey tickets of course, but I was expecting everyone who buys too many Prada handbags to turn up and be generous (oh, that’s funny, I just overheard a news story on the show, didn’t see myself, pshaw…)…perhaps they’d already been tapped by one of the other six gazillion hurricane benefits this week…show was nice, five bands, Redwalls were tight…evaded a stalker for a bit (we’ve had to hire police escort before)…hung with my Metro Security buddy Kevin…he does a fantastic job of correcting me as I assume all the men who approach me are gay and therefore safe (due to the “anti-gaydar” chip in my head the aliens implanted)…
Ran into the photographer who shot my Enchant album cover, we’re planning another wild shoot this week…which would make three…maybe I should rethink this…I find myself triple booked for this Saturday, when do I get an assistant?
Kevin had some wise words for me which echoed louder and longer than he knows: “You need to stop being so nice to people.” This is in direct response to my reluctancy to tell people “No,” also, “Go Away.” I hate to think this desire to please is a result of some faded female conditioning which says “Thou Shalt Be A Nice Girl.” Perhaps it is nothing more than my newly single self unaccustomed to dealing with the masses on my own…and unsure when exactly one springs the disappointing news “actually, I’m asexual, so don’t bother.” By the time I find my moment, I’m inevitably in hot water and splashing to get out. I seriously feel as though I’m twelve sometimes. Like, when do I grow up? Yeah, I’m “mature” as your great-grandmother, but when do I <em>grow up</em>? When do I stop assuming every guy who talks to me is gay just because I want them to be, when do I stop being afraid to tell some guy to fuck off, when do I finally deck the guy who informs me that he’s going to jerk off to my memory when he goes home? Lisa Leveridge once called me “ridiculously kind souled,” to the point where I wouldn’t do something necessary for myself for fear of hurting someone else. I didn’t see the downside of that at the time. Perhaps she and Kevin are onto something…perhaps I need to listen to my songs more often…or perhaps I really do just need to grow up and come to terms with the fact that half of the people I encounter are going to walk away saying “what a bitch/cocktease/insert your own expletive here” and be OK with that. It’s about fucking time.
On that note, I am going to KMFDM Wednesday, AND going to see ANDY ROURKE OF THE FUCKING SMITHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes!!!! Haha!!!!
Oh, and then, when I was leaving the club, this guy asked what exactly was the name of the garment I was wearing…and when I clearly told him “panniers,” he repeated back “panties?” No, panniers. Look it up.
Did I get another enlightening cab ride home? Hell no. Driver got pissed because I wanted to pay via CC, which is pretty much standard these days, but he said that he personally had to pay $1.50 commission on every CC transaction, hmmm…so what do I do? That’s right, smile and act sweet and give him a huge tip. Oh Lisa…god help me…
BUT! I LOVE BARLEY!!! Barley is so underestimated, except in songs by Sting and Dead Can Dance of course. I could live on the stuff. Barley. That’s right. Midnight dinner was barley and diet coke w/ rum. Glory be to god in the highest!
Overall, a great and productive evening was had by all. Recording tomorrow. Relief.
Your favorite practicing bitch, EA
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