#its a whole nother issue to feel guilt

[kaeyachi]

Just thinking of Kaeya and how much guilt he actually carries within him.

Guilt for lying to the people that took care of him.

Guilt for telling the truth in the wrong time.

Guilt for serving a nation that he shouldn't be recognizing as his, and guilt for still wanting to know more of his birth nation- one that could someday ruin the peace and safety of the home that took him in.

Guilty for the jealousy in his heart when faced with the youth and innocence he sees in Klee.

Guilty for his incapability to be truthful to those he loves, and how easy it is for him to lie to their faces.

Kaeya just feels guilty in general.

[gay-mormon-wizard]

There's a lot of talk about impostor syndrome and its causes, but I haven't seen anyone talk about the possible role of evangelical Christianity and its impact on society in causing impostor syndrome?

Content Warning for self-esteem issues, mental health problems, trauma, toxic theology, and evangelical Christianity.

I was raised in a "nondenominational" Evangelical Protestant church, and here are a few things I was taught for fourteen years (before I left Protestantism for Mormonism):

All people were inherently, unchangeably bad in our hearts, and that even the most pure, benevolent, and loving of our intentions, actions, and emotions were still evil.

That everyone sins, multiple times a day, and that if I didn't see my daily sins, feel ashamed of them, and beg forgiveness every night, that I was sinning even worse because believing I hadn't sinned was a symptom of pride.

That self-love and self-care were selfish, and sins, especially for women who were specifically made for the purpose of serving men.

That because of people's inherent badness, we were all deserving of eternal torment in hell. We didn't deserve anything nice in either earth or heaven, be it food, love, comfort, or salvation. (And that notion is a-whole-nother conversation about how conservatism is linked with evangelical Christianity.)

I internalized the hell out of that and it's the root of so many of my current mental health issues - my anxiety that I'm constantly doing something wrong, my fear that I'm worthless despite my efforts to be good, my guilt over basic self-care, of taking pride in my accomplishments, etc.

I think the prominence of Evangelism in our society probably means that a fair amount of people internalize similar messages, and as a result, fear that they don't deserve their accomplishments and shouldn't be proud of them, that their expertise is "fake" or invalid because they feel that underneath they're actually a mess, or unintelligent or whatever.

Just some thoughts

[cobraonthecob]

A Character With Chronic Running Away Issues Paired with a Character With Abandonment Issues????

For those who have seen my reblogs with RWBY and A:TLA, you all know that I adore Bumbleby but despise Kataa/ng, even though both pairings have one character with chronic running away issues and the other has abandonment issues.

GET READY FOR THE META NO ONE ASKED FOR

So why do I support one and not the other? (warning: I am not friendly to Kat@ang here)

Well...it’s because they’re in way different ballparks. Kataan/g happens when both are still 12/13 and 14/15, while Blake and Yang are about 19 by Volume 7. So for starters, there’s a massive maturity gap that almost shoots this comparison in the face right here and now. But wait! There’s more to this!

which is why i don’t like Ka/tara and A@ng getting together at such a young age, but then again, I don’t like the pairing at all, but we can talk about that another time

Now that we’ve addressed the maturity gap, let’s get into it!

For starters, Blake and Yang’s relationship started as good friends and then progressed into love interests and possibly girlfriends by the time of S7 (they haven’t quite jumped out with “we’re dating” but I personally think they’re taking it slow lol, ask me for my thoughts about it), so they kind of have the advantage of time on their side while Kata/ra and A@ng have only three seasons of development.

That being said, Kata@ng had 3 seasons, which is more than enough time to get both sides of their relationship but nooooo. We only see Aa/ng’s side of the romance, and Kat@ra for the most part acts like a mom, is uninterested, or straight up tries to let him down gently, and after the disastrous Ember Island Players kiss, which happens to be their last one-on-one interaction before the epilogue I want to pretend doesn’t exist, Katara and Aang’s friendship plumments badly. Heck, their last interaction ever ends badly, with the entire Gaang arguing with A@ng about how to end the war! 

what I’m saying is that Kat@ra and Aa/ng had a strained friendship before they did that cursed kiss while Blake and Yang’s friendship continued to build and then blossom into romance

“But Nightfalcon, what about the abandonment issues?!”

I’m getting there, be patient!

Now for the actual getting together - how do we make these two characters fit together?

By making both characters recognize their faults.

Blake herself knows she’s in the wrong, she addresses her chronic running away issues, starting in Volume 2, in Mountain Glenn, where she says it herself: “But I am! I do it all the time! When you learned I was a Faunus, I didn't know what to do, so I ran! When I realized my oldest partner had become a monster, I ran! Even my Semblance! I was born with the ability to leave behind a shadow of myself; an empty copy that takes the hit while I run away!” (taken directly from the RWBY Wiki). She feels guilt for running away in Volume 3 after the Fall of Beacon, but she internalizes this anger, which pops out at bad times, and she takes her guilt, buries it in anger, and isolates herself. After Sun is injured, Blake believes she’s the one at fault, and when she explodes at him and tells him why she isolates herself, Sun tells her that she’s in the wrong for isolating herself, but then tells her that he would always be there to protect her and be there for her, and that Yang would too (OK I’ve got a whole meta about Sun and Yang and Blake and why they’re amazing relationships but that’s a whole ‘nother meta).

By having Chronic Running Away (CRA bc that’s getting to be a mouthful) character openly address their faults (and others calling them out on it), you’re one step closer to making a ship sail much more smoothly.

Then there’s Yang.

In Alone Together, Yang talks to Weiss that she’s not upset solely at Blake, she’s upset that Blake didn’t feel safe enough to trust them to stay by them, and that they (whether if Yang was referring to just herself and Blake or herself, Ruby, and Blake [as Weiss was taken to Atlas]) could’ve been there for each other. She gets to address her anger and explain why she feels that way, and Weiss lends a listening ear and some advice for her. 

Eventually, the two are brought back into the same space, and spend the next few volumes patching up their relationship, or at least, the best they can, up until the fight with Adam, which puts everything on the table, and in the aftermath, Blake promises Yang she wouldn’t leave her and Yang understands and assures her that she already trusts/knows that Blake wouldn’t leave her.

TL;DR: Blake recognizes that her CRA issues are bad, and tries to make amends, Yang gets to vent her issues with Blake’s CRA issues and gets emotional support from Weiss and Ruby. Blake promises not to run, and Yang tells her that she’s not worried about Blake running away because she knows that Blake knows that team RWBY will always be there for her and that there’s a support system in place for Blake that she probably won’t feel the need to run. (seriously if you haven’t watched this show already, please do. It’s really great)

A:TLA, as wonderful as this show is, doesn’t do that for Kat@ra and A/ang.

From memory, The Storm is the episode that really touched on Aan/g’s flightiness, but Katara coddles him in that one, trying to tell him “it’s not your fault, if you hadn’t run, you might’ve died as well” which can be taken either way (IMO she’s right and wrong at the same time. Yes, Aa/ng might’ve died, but also, he needs a solid kick in the pants sometimes, I’ll talk about it later)

The next time his flightiness rears its ugly head, it’s in The Desert. After Appa is stolen, Aan/g runs off to go look for Appa, and Katara is left with Toph, Sokka, and Momo to try and get out of the desert on foot. The entire day turns into a trainwreck, as Toph has extreme guilt for failing to keep the sandbenders from taking Appa (it isn’t her fault but that’s another meta) and Sokka (and Momo) drink cactus juice and is as a result, mentally incapacitated. With the dire mission of getting the news of the eclipse to Ba Sing Se, Katara’s the only one clear-headed enough to lead the way through the desert. Once A/ang does come back, he’s still upset from his inability to find Appa, and lashes out at the others for not caring to look for Appa (even though he’s far away and that no one has a means of transportation to find Appa). Tensions are already high in the group - with dwindling water supply, they have to make it out of the desert fast, but the rest of the team is losing hope - Toph because she feels like a failure and Sokka shaking off the effects of the cactus juice, and Katara looks so tired. When Aa/ng snaps at her, she doesn’t snap back, only quietly telling A/ang that she’s trying to keep this group together enough for them to survive. A/ang running away this episode is not addressed in favor of the team getting out of the desert alive. 

Finally, in the finale four-parter, Aan/g runs away again. This time she can only hope that he’ll come back and do his job, but she’s got other stuff to worry about, like the upcoming fight with Azula. 

Afterwards...

they don’t talk about it.

YEAH YOU READ THAT RIGHT. They don’t talk about it. They don’t address the running away issues, they don’t address when A@ng kissed her without her consent twice, they just hug on a balcony and then kiss symbolizing a marriage, because I definitely signed up for East Asian Jesus making out with his mom! Definitely! They don’t talk, Katara becomes a silent character and it gets even worse in LoK ~

*Nightfalcon proceeds to take a few minutes to scream*

And of course, no one else really calls out Aa/ng, except for Toph in Bitter Work, but that was more on his fighting/bending style and not on him in general.

The only other really memorable time where Katara’s abandonment issues are brought up is when she’s ranting at her dad in The Awakening, where she takes issue with both him and A/ang leaving her, and for the most part, Hakoda does give her the support she needs.

Heck, in the finale arc, Zuko tells her that it’s probably for the best that Aang is given some time alone to run to his room and meditate. probably because the last time Katara and A/ang were alone, A@ng kissed her without her consent and I’m going into full speculation territory but what if Zuko knows and doesn’t want that to happen again?

So Katara is repeatedly told by the narrative that Aa/ng is the type to run away when things get tough, and that she should let him.

I see both sides of the issue, and I get it, but when it comes to pairing people off in a relationship, well, they shouldn’t have gotten together.

Anyways, Aan/g is also twelve and has proven numerous times to be unable to support Katara emotionally, and has kissed her without her consent twice, while Katara is 14 going on 28 because of the war, losing her mom and stepping up as the mother figure for her entire family, and later because Aang isn’t allowed to grow up at all, along with other symbolism that shoots Kataa/ng in the foot. 

TL;DR: Katara and A/ang never really talk about A@ng’s running away issues, and no one comes up to support Katara (they do validate her but it’s not a whole support system she can fall back on fully), and Aa/ng is way too immature for a full on relationship at the time of the show’s end. 

So what was the point of this rambly mess? It’s to show how to write a relationship where one character has a tendency to run away while the other one has abandonment issues. I like Bumbleby because Blake acknowledges that it’s a flaw of hers and she actively works to toning it down and Yang has a whole support system and both get to talk about it and aaaahhhhh the communication between them, while you have Katara and A@ng never addressing the issue because Katara’s so gosh darn afraid of stepping on his feelings (see: The Waterbending Scroll) and no one fully provides support for her (Hakoda keeps getting separated from the Gaang and she and Zuko became friends at the end of TSR, and only had an episode between that one and the finale arc so it left a lot unexplored of their friendship) and Aan/g is therefore taught that it’s a-OK to invalidate the feelings of the person you like because you’ll get them in the end!

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 4 - Storm

When it came to the weather in Tempo, there wasn’t much difference to tell the passage of each season. All that seemed to change was the temperature in the air, and even then it didn’t fluctuate that much. What else would you expect from a desert town? At least on the plus side, it meant the people living there didn’t have too much to worry about. Maybe sandstorms? Tornadoes? Well, those were probably more likely, but so was any state practically bordering Texas, especially when going further north.

Rain came, as it always did. Wouldn’t be much vegetation if that wasn’t the case right? Even while the rain poured from the heavens, generally nothing bad ever happened. The van had good traction, so slick roads were handled. Umbrellas were always kept in the back, just on the off chance they were required, though half the time Vivi would just make a run for it.

That was a luxury Arthur couldn’t really afford. As advanced as his arm was, water was still the greatest weakness it held.

Thank goodness the others were alright with waiting for him whenever that happened.

Considering the most recent circumstances, some aspects of their dynamic began to rise back to the surface. Not all of Lewis’ temper disappeared, not that any of them expected it to. There were moments when anger tended to get the better of him, and his relationship with Arthur was still filled with annoyed looks. Sometimes even glares.

Yet despite all that, it was clear he was making an effort.

The boys could still sometimes chat like they used to, even crack a smile in one another’s direction. When effort was given, it was received in turn. Vivi found it much easier to trust the ghost, even if not fully. She could trust him with the most basic things; however, since the Mystery Skulls were back in action, she wasn’t so sure she could trust him to have their back when it counted. Frankly, she could say the same for Mystery, but he was forgiven far more easily for a couple reasons.

For one, he was actually around in the time when Lewis was not. He had been there when they needed him. For two, he hadn’t purposefully tried to kill anyone. He truly was like Arthur, holding guilt for an action of harm against another, but in the kitsune’s case, his only goal was to save their friend, not kill him.

Lewis had done that deed.

Blond man and dog had already begun to mend the wound caused by that injury, and in a way, having Mystery there helped to ease his own fears. Both of them had suffered at the hands of the same entity, and could find comfort in one another’s shared experience.

As far as Arthur himself went, he tried to be much more open with his friends, both of them. While there were still instances where he held his emotions under lock and key, or even ignored Vivi when she tried to get in contact with him, he still worked to break the habit of letting them know when something was bothering him.

Small steps.

Point being, the consideration hadn’t gone unnoticed. Rain they had down pat. It was a whole ‘nother ball game when it came to snow.

White covering the ground in Tempo, or even anywhere around Tempo for that matter, was quite rare. Rarer still was getting enough height to the point where vehicles could not drive down the road, let alone get out from where they were parked. And so that’s how the four of them were now stuck at Vivi’s place, having gone over there to discuss some cases. When the snow started coming down, no one suspected it would turn out this bad.

The temperature was already beginning to drop, the chill appearing to seep through the walls. Of course, Lewis and Mystery didn’t seem at all bothered by this fact; although, the same could not be said for Vivi and Arthur. While the former of the two often wore a sweater year round, even she could feel the difference. The latter of the two was another issue.

Arthur’s vest might have been warm, but it wasn’t exactly covering all parts of his body. He should have been smart enough to wear something a little warmer given it was the middle of winter, but old habits must truly die hard. Same could be said for the shirt he wore. At least he had pants on.

Even so, that wasn’t the most pressing problem.

None of them had taken into account how the blond’s metal arm would take to the cold, not even Arthur himself. It wasn’t like the other three knew the first thing about how it all worked. Whenever it was explained to them, it was almost like he was speaking a foreign language. All they could do was nod their heads, as if they were following along with absolute clarity.

Arthur was another matter.

He couldn’t help but kick himself mentally for this oversight. He should have known better. Was it for the lack of a real ‘winter cold?’ Was it truly just something he forgot about? He knew heat had an effect on the arm, so why wouldn’t the cold? Great, now he was going to have to figure out a solution for this. As if he didn’t already have enough ‘arm upgrade projects’ to juggle around.

For now, it didn’t seem like the limb was bothering him that much. Sure, it felt colder than usual, but as long as the heater in the Yukino home was running, there was nothing to worry about.

As if God himself had been listening to the blond’s thoughts, that was the moment when the power decided to flicker out.

Just great.

It had long since been deemed unsafe for any of them to try and make their way home with the storm hitting this hard, but now that decision was definitive. No member of the Yukino family thought it wise to try sending those boys out on their own, most of all Vivi. Arthur made sure to call his uncle to let him know where he was before passing the phone to Lewis. The ghost seemed to give a look of confusion.

The blond just seemed to tilt his head back, “Aren’t you going to call your family?”

Eyes narrowed. Oh that wasn’t a good sign. He began to hand the phone back, “Arthur you know I ca-”

He was cut off by the blond motioning to Vivi’s family. Of course, what would they think if he didn’t at least inform them of his whereabouts? He’d been purposefully avoiding them, and it was a wonder that not only had the two families not already informed the Peppers about their son’s return to Tempo, but also the passersby who knew him.

Maybe it was the sunglasses? Maybe it was the suit he would sometimes be wearing rather than his normal outfit? Or maybe they already knew and were giving him space? Regardless, he had to play his part. Stepping to the side, he ‘called’ his family.

Then he finally gave the phone back.

Day dragged into night.

The Yukinos were kind, providing a meal for the boys stuck hunkering down in their home. They were important to Vivi. Lewis did his best sneaking food to the other three, making it look like he was eating what was provided to them. It seemed to work for the most part.

When the darkness became too much, the collective deemed it was time for bed. With any luck, the storm should pass through the night, then it was a matter of waiting for the roads to clear. With the four of them working together, they could surely dig the van out enough to allow Arthur to return to Kingsmen Mechanics.

Lewis could just return to his mansion under the cloak of invisibility.

Arthur insisted the ghost stay with Vivi in her room while he took the couch. He couldn’t very well kick the Yukinos out of their respective rooms, and as far as any of them were aware, the bluenette and ghost were still dating. It only made sense they would want to share a room. All about keeping the act up. He would be fine on the couch. Sure wouldn’t be the first time.

When the duo finally agreed, they slipped off in the darkness of the home. Arthur stood in place until he heard the sound of the door shutting.

The blond exhaled the breath he had been holding in, feeling relief wash off him. Talking to Lewis was indeed getting easier, but even the smallest disagreements, or plans he disagreed with could lead to that temper rearing its ugly head. He was overjoyed nothing bad happened this time.

 After lowering himself to the couch, he worked to remove his vest and shirt, a task that normally wouldn’t seem like the chore it was now. Where metal connected to skin had begun to feel numb hours ago. It was another case of keeping something to himself rather than worry his friends. Guess the mindset of “I can totally handle this for the rest of the day” came back to bite him in the ass. Well, the sooner he got it off now, the better.

First, he tied a knot in the left sleeve of the shirt.

Arthur rested the arm against the coffee table in front of him, then slipped the shirt back on. With a lack of any other garments to change into, he was left to sleep in the same clothes he wore during the day. He couldn’t dress down for the fear of freezing, and the pants would give him some warmth. At least he also had a blanket.

Too bad it could only warm him up so much.

He mentally cursed every home that didn’t have a fireplace.

The removal of his metal limb had helped, but just barely. The end of his shoulder still felt numb, and whenever there was a feeling, it was tight. It was like the muscles tensed, and could not relax themselves, creating a less than favorable combination of discomfort. Would he even be able to get to sleep were it not for the freezing temperatures?

Arthur wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt a sudden weight near his legs. That had to be Mystery, coming to help warm him up. As considerate as the kitsune was in this gesture, there was little he would truly be able to do. A giant fox with multiple tails wasn’t exactly hiding in plain sight as a dog if he took on his true form to offer the blond more warmth. A small whine echoed from the other end of the couch, earning a whisper from the man, “I know… t-thanks a-anyw-way Mystery.”

Damn the slight stutter from the cold.

Guess he should be happy his teeth weren’t joining in with it.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed this time before he saw a small light hovering above him. Did someone light a candle or something? Maybe he could huddle close to it, or at least his shoulder could. When tired eyes brought the room into some semblance of order, he could see it wasn’t a candle, but rather the flaming pompadour on top of a floating skull. What was he doing out here? Wait, was he having some kind of dream, or nightmare, and he wasn’t aware of it? That would make sense.

Lewis was probably here to finish the job.

His body trembled, not simply from the lack of heat. He never was good at hiding how scared he became, especially when it came to their otherworldly friend. Part of him just wanted the ghost to get it over with, rather than drag this out longer than it needed to.

He reached out towards Arthur.

Arms wrapped around him.

The blond felt himself being lifted from the couch.

Resting in Lewis’ arms.

Floating down the hall....

Stopping in front of Vivi’s bedroom door…

Wait… wait a minute… What was going on?

Lewis adjusted his hold on Arthur, twisting the knob to open the door, the squeaking of wood echoing from his attempt to create as little noise as possible. Once the three of them were in the room, because of course Mystery followed them, the door was shut once again. The blond couldn’t take it anymore, whispering up at his captor, “Lewis, what’s going on?”

The ghost said nothing.

Just dropped him down on the other side of Vivi’s bed. Were it not for the ghost quickly laying the pulled sheets and blankets over him, Arthur was sure he would have sprung right back out. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here.

“Lewis wha-”

“Hush Arthur. Get some sleep.”

“But-”

Lewis placed a finger against the blond’s lips, floating over him. There wasn’t much space between him and Vivi, yet Lewis somehow found a way to snuggly fit. He could feel Mystery hop onto the bed, body pressed against his legs. Where he once felt cold, a warm seemed to wash over him; although, he couldn’t tell if that was from Lewis’ unnatural heat, or the comfort of his friends.

Finally, he found his eyes closing, sleep taking him to escape the storm.

[leviathan-dee]

DMC Week 2020: Day 6: You Belong Here

(Here’s another small wholesome piece. I really wish we had more interactions with the entire crew in DMC, but the community provides enough to sate that need for wholesomeness). (All prompts were used for day 6). (Alcohol mention, and one use of a curse word lmao).

Family was never a word that Dante had to use too often in his vocabulary. Decades of separation and neglect seemed to stretch, until he finally found where he belonged; in this drunken celebration with his slightly dysfunctional family.

Word Count: 1,755

Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, Kyrie, Trish, Lady, Nico

Read On AO3

The scorching July sun seemed to boil every living being which dared step foot outside, merciless rays beating down upon the Earth. Whoever escaped the confines of their four walls were bound to become crispy at the sheer thought of the sun. There were, however, some fools who tempted fate, and proceeded to have an entire barbeque outside.

The Spardas, alongside the Devil May Cry crew, were said fools.

Of course, no one could deny Kyrie, the kindest, most gentle creature to ever grace the planet, a day outside. Especially during a celebration. Especially on a pregnant Kyrie’s birthday.

It was July tenth, the weather being arid and overly vacant of any breezes. This only made the heat far more excruciating. Kyrie didn’t seem to feel the blazes, her skin absorbing the rays to form a honeyed tan which complimented the amber glimmer in her eyes. Whereas Nero, unfortunately, panted like a rabid dog. His skin seemed to turn scarlet at the mere thought of summer. Evidently, the situation turned even worse for the boy since he had to man the barbeque, grilling burgers, as well as sausages, meanwhile being inevitably covered in helix coils of smoke. His beloved watched him apologetically, whilst he continued to sweat up a storm, beckoning the children to pick up their mouthwatering meals.

Dante sat beside an orchard, the apple trees being a godsend for shade in his time of need. Although the Sparda twin could withstand blazing temperatures, it was only for a short period of time; Not an entire day. Brushing his white, sweat-soaked locks away from his brow, Dante grabbed the neck of the beer bottle, letting the bubbles gently glide down his throat. He basked in the sensation for what seemed a whole eternity, whilst the sound of bickering and giggling children filled his ears. It was blissful, to say the least. To feel like he belonged. To have family.

He had hoped Verge felt the same about this reunion.

Thinking about his twin brother, Dante turned to the blue devil, noting that Vergil’s usual scowl was wiped clean off of his visage. Instead, his face was soft, bereft of any tension. He seemed… happy. Relaxed. It was refreshing to see. Albeit his quiet nature, the elder twin continued to lift the corners of his lips, reacting to the children, as well as Nico’s vulgar comments and Kyrie’s deathly glares at the gunsmith. Trish and Lady were the other pair to cause a ruckus, making Vergil smirk anytime they were told off by Nero for using non-family friendly language at the dinner table.

“Aww shit, we’re out of ketchup.” As a slightly intoxicated Lady let the curse word slip, she squeezed the condiment bottle harder, making it spurt out a less-than elegant bowel movement noise, and a pathetic dollop of tomato sauce. The children fell into hysterics, Nero and Kyrie unsure of whether to reprimand the woman, or giggle alongside the kids.

Dante continued to watch the spectacle, a warmth blooming in his chest.

Vergil was happy. In turn, so was his younger brother.

“So, Verge, enjoying yourself?” Sipping on liquid courage, Dante turned his head to his twin.

“Hmm. It appears as though I am.” The blue devil assumed a somewhat distant stare, turning his gaze towards his busy son at the grill. His eyes softened at the sight of Nero. If there was a trace of bittersweetness in Vergil’s expression, it came and went almost instantly. However, Dante knew him better than anyone, and could recognise his elder brother’s ghosts of guilt and regret quickly.

As a sudden breeze eased the tension of blanketing heat, Dante sighed, and recalled a nostalgia fueled memory.

“Remember when mum and dad brought all of their friends to the manor for a barbeque? We ended up playing with the other kids, whilst the grown-ups got drunk?” The scarlet devil sucked air in through his teeth, the memory almost too painful to relive. Vergil recoiled at the sudden recollection.

“I reminisce about those days often.”

“You were a damn sprightly kid, Verge. Always running off and hiding to read. Me and the others had to search for you, only to find you up on that gnarly tree, chomping on some apple.”

Dante continued with the mental memoir, his lips curling upwards. He could almost hear the voices of the children and Vergil’s adamant refusal to climb down. He could smell the delectable cuisine of his father's famous burnt burgers and his mother’s soft laughter. Even the gentle grass lapping at his ankles was as vivid of a memory as the display of giggling children before him.

“And now…” Dante inhaled deeply, a ghost of a bittersweet smile gracing his lips, “now we’re the ones sitting, getting wasted, whilst the kiddos play.”

“What are you getting at, Dante?” Vergil uncrossed his arms, running his fingers through his hair, a tell-tale sign of either annoyance or discomfort. Dante simply waited to collect his thoughts, the image of past times being too much. In retaliation to the thoughts, he inhaled the scent of sweetened smoke, inching himself to the empty seat beside Vergil. He let out an almost elderly sigh as he landed in the chair before continuing earnestly.

“We made it, Verge. We've come full circle.”

Vergil's reforming thoughtful brow wrinkle made its famous comeback, his mind processing Dante's statement.

So they did come full circle.

Dante was so adamant on having something dear to hold onto, he was finally rewarded with a family. Finally rewarded with what he longed for since he was eight years old. Though it was a screwed up little group with issues that would take a few more decades to sort out, it was his family. Vergil was very much a part of that family. It warmed every cold crevice of the blue devil’s beating heart, the melodic rhythm becoming even prouder.

"Christ, Vergil. You have a son, can you believe it? In fact, you're going to have a grandkid. You're going to be the youngest looking gramps to have ever lived." Dante attempted to pinch his brother’s cheek, earning him an irked scoff, alongside a hearty slap to the back of the head. It seemed as though they returned to their youthful selves, ignoring the wrinkle lines that arose with age, and the exhaustion inflicted violet splodges beneath their eyes.

They were kids again, trying their best to catch up on the lost years of brotherly bickering.

...

The air began to cool off as the evening drifted. Nero was unchained from his duties, sipping a chilled beer, pleased hums and sighs resounding from his chest. Kyrie cuddled into Nero’s side, the both of them entangled behind the table. Viewing the spectacle, Dante turned to Vergil once more.

"I think mum and pops would be proud." The statement came out of the blue, yet did not startle the blue devil. Instead, his visage was graced with a saccharine smile, the type that Dante had rarely seen in the man. In fact, it was only witnessed during their eventful, albeit brief, childhood.

"Hmm… I hope so." Sighing, contentment written all over Vergil’s features, he craned his neck up to the trees, breathing in the tender breeze of the summer evening.

Dante continued to reminisce about his nephew, and the love of Nero’s life. Seeing the shy ‘couple’ back in Fortuna, he never anticipated to witness this decade-long result; A great-nephew. Kyrie seemed to glow as she nuzzled into her beloved’s side, with a five month bump becoming a prominent addition to her frame. It was a wondrous thing to Dante, knowing that their little dysfunctional family was ever-expanding. The fuzzy feelings appeared to bloom at an exponential rate, which the scarlet devil attempted to gulp down with bubbling alcohol.

He was proud of them. Proud of the tiny group. His family.

A boisterous Nico interrupted any thoughts, eclipsing the view of the couple with her presence.

"So, 'nother beer for ya, gents?" She offered to provide more drinks, with Dante gladly accepting and Vergil politely declining. Whilst the Spardas’ intoxication was low, Lady and Trish were completely sloshed. Their joyous dancing was evidence of the fact.

Nico turned to the middle of the garden where the pair were swaying their arms about as if they were attempting to fend off mosquitos.

“Lady is gonna regret all that booze in the morning. Not sure ‘bout Trish though.” As the young gunsmith twirled on her heels to approach Nero and Kyrie, the dancing pair of intoxicated women began to beckon Dante.

“Hey! Give us your iconic MJ dance!” Trish slurred not a single word, Dante noting that she was playing the drunk to accompany Lady.

“C’moooon Mr. Sparda. Please?” Lady, however, slurred every word. It wasn’t often she had the time or the energy to let loose, so the evening was some well deserved alleviation of pent up stress and frustration. In the distance, Kyrie giggled at Lady’s tipsiness, earning the birthday girl an amorous peck on her button nose from Nero.

The scarlet devil stood from his seat whilst giving Nico an impish smirk, before summoning Dr. Faust into his palm. It appeared as though the cowboy hat materialised from countless twinkling coils of demonic energy. Nico returned his mischievous smile with her own, silently fist bumping the air. Nero simply sighed and clicked his tongue, mirroring his father’s own mannerisms of annoyance and exasperation.

“Not again…”

“YES AGAIN! HIT IT, DANTE!” Nico joined in on the two buzzed women on the garden dancefloor. As a natural performer, Dante swished the headpiece upon his crown, assuming a pose that could wow the crowd.

For hours, the party continued, each member of the crew joining in on the song and dance. Even Vergil pranced into the centre, grabbing a wasted Lady to waltz with him. Toasts were made, followed by treasured tears trailing alongside the speeches, each word weighing the world. Their love for each other, and this little makeshift family, could not be altered or demolished in any way possible. For each of these members lost someone close to them. Whether it was a father, a mother, a brother, or their entire livelihood. They ultimately found a group of like-minded individuals to fill the void. Nothing could separate them.

‘You belong here’ a tiny cherished voice uttered in the back of Dante’s mind. For the first time in decades, he was happy. He felt like he belonged.

Hell, he did belong. 

And nothing could change the fact.

[thatesqcrush]

The Visit

Barba x Reader. Continuation of the Professor Barba series (with Torts and Office Hours). Reader pays another visit on campus. CW: NSFW! Smutty smut smut. AN: @madpanda75 requested prompt # 28 from the list here: "Babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that.” 

WC: 2223

Tags: @madpanda75 @melsquared79 @dreila03 @sass-and-suspenders @glimmerglittergirl @mommakat32 @garturbo @southern-magnolia @tropes-and-tales @ottosuricato @whyissvuruiningmylovelife - anyone else just ask! 

Rafael winced as his mother yelled at him on the other end of the phone. He was almost embarrassed; he was an adult - but he could feel the figurative tail ducking between his legs. His ears were hot and burning red. “¡Te casaste¡ ¿Sin un sacerdote? ��Y no en una iglesia? Your abuela is rolling in her grave! Lucia Barba switched from Spanish to English, her anger apparently not contained to one specific language.

 At the same time, water dripped from the ceiling of his office. Rafael looked up at the hole in the ceiling. Annoyed, he moved his trash can to underneath it. Balancing his cellphone against his cheek and shoulder, he quickly typed and printed out a note on his computer. He held the phone in one hand again as he rummaged his desk for scotch tape.

 “Mamí, I know, but y/n and I didn’t want a big thing. It was becoming too much pressure for her - for us. And well, I have easy access to a courthouse, so it was just easier to elope.” Rafael sighed.

 “No empiezas conmigo Rafael Barba. I taught you better than that. First you didn’t have me at your trial and then this? You hurt my feelings,” Lucia replied, her voice quivering.

 Rafael sighed once more. Never mind Catholic guilt; Latino parent guilt was a whole ‘nother level on its own. “Lo siento, mamí.”

 “Please tell y/n to call me later. I need to go lay down,” Lucia continued ignoring her son’s apologetic words.

 “I will,” Rafael replied. The call ended with an abrupt click and Rafael tossed his phone into his bag. He shut the door to his office behind him. He taped the sign to his door:

 OFFICE HOURS MOVED

LAW LIBRARY

B2 NORTH, ROOM 201

1:00 PM - 2:30 PM

 ***

 Rafael swiped his ID to enter the law library. He bounded down the steps towards the basement level, where he reserved a room to maintain office hours while the leak in his office was repaired.

He set his coffee tumbler down on the desk and removed his suit jacket. He rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie.

 Rafael set the stack of papers that were recently turned in. He tried to focus on grading them. There was a staccato knock on the door, which interrupted his thoughts.

 Rafael groaned, running his hands through his face and hair. “Come in!”

 The door opened and you poked your head in. “Excuse me Professor, do you have a minute?”

 Rafael was expecting a student - not his blushing bride.

 “Cariño, what are you doing here?”

 “Can’t I pay my husband a visit?” You asked. “And bring him —“ you paused in your tracks spotting the tumbler on the desk. “Coffee,” you sighed, disappointed as you finished your sentence. “Of course you already have coffee.”

 While Rafael had a penchant for hot coffee, you were more of an iced coffee person. Your iced coffee began to sweat. Rafael reached into his jacket that was hanging off the chair and handed you his pocket square so you could wipe it off.

 “No such thing as too much coffee,” Rafael replied with a wink, taking the coffees from you and placing them on the desk. He pulled you in close and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips. “And it’s always good to see you.”

 You held onto the kiss, gently nipping Rafael’s bottom lip. Rafael let out a tiny groan, and you used the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. Rafael returned the open mouth kiss, pushing you into his embrace even closer. One hand tangled into your hair, and the other wrapped tightly around your waist.

 The kiss became instantly feverish; as if you two couldn’t get enough of each other. You pawed at each other as your tongues dueled against one another. You reached down and grabbed Rafael’s ass, squeezing.

 Rafael hesitantly broke the kiss. “Babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that.” You turned out of his embrace and took a seat.

 “I missed you,” you replied wistfully. “I was all alone in the apartment, thinking of my husband and the wonderful honeymoon we are going to take next week... the one that we haven’t finished booking.” You ended the sentence with a clip.

 Rafael nodded. “I know. I just need to get these papers graded and then Spring Break is ours. I promise.”

 You grabbed one of the papers and started to read it. “Moral panic: A new danger or an ordinary issue.” You thumbed the hefty paper and gently tossed it back onto the desk.

 “In undergrad, my professor would say that he would toss the papers down the stairs and the ones that landed the farthest would get an A,” you replied, reaching over and taking a sip of the coffee you had brought.

 “Well, I am not your professor cariño. I will read every single one.”

 “I am glad you weren’t my teacher Professor Barba,” you teased. “I’d fail.”

 “¿Por que?” Rafael questioned as he began to mark up the paper but he already knew the answer.

 “I’d be so distracted with how guapo you are. I would just be too busy thinking about getting under you and not paying attention to a word you said,” you continued.

 Rafael smirked. “Is that so?”

 “Mmm-hmm,” you agreed. You swiveled your seat so that you were facing your husband. You were wearing a sundress and your legs were bare. Feeling coquettish, you spread your legs and raised the hem of your dress. Rafael could immediately tell you weren’t wearing underwear.

 “Y/N,” Rafael said your name dangerously low. His breath hitched and he dropped his red pen on the desk.

 “This is all for you,” you replied, slipping your hand to your folds. You slowly stroked yourself, teasingly slipping your fingers into your cunt, which was already wet from your earlier oral exercise. “But you knew that already, right?”

 You moaned softly, as you used your fingers to pleasure yourself. “Ohhh...”

 Rafael groaned as he watched your ministrations. He ran his hand under his chin, scratching the stubble on his chin. “God I love watching you play with yourself.”

 You bit your lip as you continued to pump your fingers, in and out and in again. You used your other hand to squeeze your breast.

 “But,” you whined. “It’s so much better when you do it... Professor.” You slipped your fingers out, and he could see how they glistened with your arousal under the yellow overhead lighting.

 Rafael growled quietly and before you knew it, he was kneeling in between your legs. Rafael gripped your hips and pulled you towards the edge of the seat before spreading your legs once more.

 “Is that so?” Rafael questioned before deeply inhaling your sweet scent.

 “Oh yes, Professor Barba,” you teased.

 Rafael took your fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of your juices. “Mmmm,” he moaned appreciatively.

 He used his fingers to spread open your lips, and he gently stroked them, spreading your wetness. You looked down at Rafael and you met his gaze. Your breathing was labored and your heart raced. You bit your lip in anticipation.

 Rafael dove into your folds, using the flat of his tongue to swipe a broad stripe up your folds. Your hands immediately and instinctively wrapped into Rafael’s dark hair.

 Rafael alternated sucking and licking at your most feminine parts. You gripped his head tightly, moaning Rafael’s name loudly. Rafael pulled away, placing a finger on his lips, shushing you. You nodded, your cheeks flushing pink.

 Rafael snaked two fingers from under to slip into your warm sheath. His tongue swirled over your clitoris as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

 Rafael alternated long swipes with flicks, as he finger fucked you. You groaned, continuing to whisper Rafael’s name with praise. You tugged on his hair again, trying to keep him close as you felt your orgasm build. “Don’t stop, so close,” you whispered.

 “Never mi amor,” Rafael murmured as he used the pad of his thumb to rub your swollen pearl as he continued to lap at your pussy. Sensing your were close - your walls began to flutter against his fingers - Rafael shook his head from side to side while humming, sending vibrations up your body.

 You felt the familiar coil in your belly tighten and before you knew it, you were falling apart, coming all over Rafael’s face. Your eyes were squeezed so tightly you saw floaters. You slapped a hand over your mouth in order to prevent your scream.

 Once you had calmed down, Rafael pulled away, placing kisses along your thighs, before resting on his haunches, admiring the scene before him and how he made you fall apart.

 You stood up and lowered your dress. You pulled Rafael up and kissed him. You could smell and taste yourself on his lips. You could feel how hard he was against your belly.

 Rafael pulled away and unzipped his pants, and shoved them down, so that they were around his ankles. Rafael’s cock was painfully hard; cum weeped from the tip. He stroked himself as he sat down on a chair and patted his lap. “C’mere,” he beckoned.

 Rafael guided his cock into you as you sat on his lap; your legs together and slightly bent. Your dress was flipped up once more, and Rafael’s soft, warm hands were on your hips. Initially you just sat, relishing the feeling of fullness from his cock. You gyrated your hips and rubbed against Rafael. Rafael’s hips bucked, encouraging you to move. You began to bounce up and down on his shaft, as you leaned towards the table. You hands were on the edge of the table to keep you steady and to help control your movements.

 Rafael’s hands moved from your hips to to over your dress, and up to your breasts. He kneaded and cupped them through as you rode his cock. From there, he put his hands on your shoulders so that he could pull you down with each stroke.

 Your head lolled forward, and you bit your lip from the intensity of it all. Not being able to make a sound, was an extreme turn on.

 Rafael grunted on the downward stroke, and he reached around to rub your clit. The familiar tingling began to build once more, when a knock interrupted your liaisons. The two of you froze.

 “Professor Barba? Are you still having office hours?” a voice called out from the other side of the door.

 You were about to get up and move, when Rafael gripped your hips holding you still. “Give me a few minutes please,” Rafael choked out.

 “Okay,” replied the voice from the other side.

 Rafael moved so that you and him were standing and he pushed you down onto the table, so your chest was flat against it. He hunched over you and began to piston into you, balls deep. You gripped the table hard. Reaching around Rafael began to rub your clit once more. You were at the precipice earlier, so it didn’t take much to bring you to the brink. You bit the side of your cheek so that you wouldn’t scream and the metallic taste of your blood filled your mouth. Feeling your walls flutter around him was Rafael’s undoing. He stiffened behind you, as he released into you, and bit your shoulder in an effort to keep quiet himself.

 Rafael stumbled back as he pulled out of you. You stood on wobbly knees as you pulled down your dress. You grabbed Rafael’s pocket square from before and patted your inner thighs. Rafael tucked himself back into his pants and straightened out his shirt and tie. You tossed the ruined pocket square into your purse and made way to grab your iced coffee.

 Rafael cleared his throat and opened the door to find his student sitting on the ground against the wall. “Mr. Jacobs, you needed to speak with me?”

 The wannabe lawyer nodded, quickly standing. Rafael quickly introduced you. “My wife, y/n Barba.”

 You shook the young man’s hand. “Nice to meet you Mrs. Barba.”

 “Please, call me y/n. My mother in law is Mrs. Barba. But I’ve got to get going. Good luck with your paper,” you replied. You could feel your thighs grow sticky as Rafael’s release dripped out of you.

 You placed a chaste kiss on Rafael’s cheek. “I’ll see you at home.”

 “Oh!” Rafael realized. “My mom wanted to speak with you.”

 You halted your steps and turned around to face your husband. Your eyes narrowed and you pinched your nose. “What did you say Rafael?”

 ***

 The following week, you and your handsome husband boarded the flight to your honeymoon destination.

 “Yes, Lucia, we will plan a proper ceremony; yes with a priest. With a small reception... whatever you think is best,” you replied as you handed your ticket to the agent. “Okay. We are getting on the plane now. We’ll call when we land. Okay. Okay. Bye.”

 You looked at Rafael. “You better make this up to me Professor. You owe me big.”

 Rafael nodded. “Have I ever let you down? Now come on, lets go.”

 The two of you headed down the jet bridge hand in hand, ready to embark on your honeymoon. 

FIN

[boopliette]

Hi! I keep seeing posts about the new West End les mis staging, but all the articles I can find just go off about how "refreshing" it is without actually saying what the changes they made are? Do you know what they've changed? I'm kinda worried about what they might've screwed up lol

So the short answer is that everything is different, it’s an entirely separate interpretation of the show from the original.

It’s not “new” really, it first premiered for the 25th Anniversary Tour, it was the production that went to Broadway and is the current US Tour, its the current UK Tour, it was the one in Madrid a few years back and i Think its the one in Mexico right now but don’t quote me on that - so if you’ve seen any of those, that’s what’s coming to London to replace the original staging.

The major difference is that the new production relies heavily on big sets, and in my opinion that often detracts from the characters. The original production is very minimalist, there’s only like one or two backdrops or large props, and everything else is done in the same box set with bricks and windows on the back wall, and they arrange the two halves of the barricade in different ways to create big set pieces like Paris and the ABC cafe. There’s more focus on the character and it feels more personal, to me at least.

The other main difference is there’s no revolving stage.

I have nothing against the new production though, it’s well suited for touring, because without the revolve you do need something to make up for it. However, it is like, budget Les Mis and it doesn’t hold the same resonance or impact because there’s too much going on and the focus is a bit all over the place. Less is more! The original production is perfect - it’s been running for 33 years for a reason and is down to a fine art by now. It still sells 95% of the seats and people keep coming, and I think changing it now is going to have terrible repercussions in the future.

NOW under the cut imma go into way more detail about some staging differences can, but oh boy that’s gonna go on for a while so don’t suffer through it if you don’t want to (warning: i have a very clear bias)

First of all, the difference between the original and the new production is obvious from the very first second:

On the right is the 2010 tour, where the prisoners are on a huge boat set and they’re rowing or something I don’t really know, but they have big props and set pieces, and on the left is the original (from a 2011 bootleg), where they have imaginary pickaxes, but you feel closer to them, there’s nothing to distract you from them, and sue me I love a good smoke machine

the same thing happens in the factory, in the original (left) Fantine and the workers are clearly the focus (also in the background you have one of the few set pieces, the iron gate later seen in a Heart Full of Love)

this ones just a me problem, but look at the new stagings (right) pitiful little runaway cart, cmon fauchelevent you can get up from that it’s Nothing, the original (left) is huge and imposing and looks more dangerous and i love The Runaway Cart fight me

The original ABC Cafe set (left) is made of rearranged barricade parts and you see them move together and spin around. The new ABC Cafe (right) is made of newspaper and balconies and needs more tables.

I weep for how empty and sad the new One Day More (right) looks.

So a lot of these have been superficial differences but this one is huge. For Gavroche’s death, in the original staging (left, from a 2014 video) Gavroche climbs over the barriacde as it spins around, hiding the students and making Gavroche the sole focus. This is a very powerful scene, and Gavroche feels so alone, its heartbreaking. When the barricade spins back round, we see the students reactions then, with Grantaire front and centre, slowly lwering himself into a chair as he comes to terms with what has happened. In the new staging, because there’s no revolve, Gavroche climbs over the barricade and we stay with the students and see their reactions to hearing Gavroche die. Grantaire is still front and centre, and then he screams. Its meant to be heartbreaking but 9/10 it reminds me of Darth Vader’s awkwards “NOOO” at the end of the prequels. I prefer the original’s understated approach to his grief. Gavroche’s death is important, and not being able to see it takes away a lot of its impact and a lot of the scenes tension.

my absolute favourite moment in the original production (top) is when, after the final battle, the barricade spins around as an orchestral version of Bring Him Home plays the “the summers die one by one” part, and Enjolras is revealed hanging upside down with his flag, Gavroche still on the ground below him. This scene is incredible, I genuinely don’t think there is anything like it. It’s so poignant and impactful and its a very powerful moment that I literally hold my breath for. The new production tho. Oh the new producion. The barricade doesn’t rotate, we’ve covered this. So what do they do? THEY SPLIT THE BARRICADE IN TWO TO SHOW ENJOLRAS AND GAVROCHE IN A WAGON. A WAGON. This wagon is my nightmare. I hate this wagon. This wagon is dead to me. They’re changed the original staging recently so that Enjolras is even more upside down than before, hanging onto the barricade with just one thigh, and its breathtaking. Google it or something, I’m running out of photos.

Okay so the new production (right) ghosts in Empty Chairs aren’t bad, they just have a different effect. In the original (left), the ghosts line up behind him and feel like they’re representations of Marius’s guilt as they walk up to him. They look at him and judge him as he sings “oh my friends, my friends don’t ask me” and then they walk backwards into the shadows again as he finishes the song. In the new staging, they walk in to extinguish candles left by the women in Turning and its just all together more mournful. He looks directly into Enjolras’s eyes as he sings that same line, and then they all blow out the candles and back away from him as he reaches for them. It heightens Marius’s sorrow instead of his anger and guilt, and its not a bad change, its just a different take on the scene. Also at the end of the original Marius raises a toast to his friends and drinks and its bitter and heartbreaking, whilst in the new production he just blows out the candle and its also sad, but not as painful.

MY FINAL ANGRY RANT IS THAT IN THE NEW PRODUCTION (right) THEY’RE NOT HOLDING HANDS. THE LINE IS “TAKE MY HAND” HOW DID THEY MISS THAT??? HOLD HANDS DAMN IT.

other things i ran out of photo space for: 

-the new production has a weird obsession with balconies??? Paris is just balconies, the musain gets a balcony despite being indoors, cosette has a balcony, the thenardiers get a balcony in One Day More, its just too many balconies.-there was a very good post by @cometomecosette explaining how Lovely Ladies loses a lot of its focus and impact in the new production, so I suggest checking that out here for how that scene will change-The new production doesn’t have enjolras and grantaire hugging in Drink With Me and thats a crime-Javert has a gigantic bridge in the new production, its too much bridge for one man-the entrance of the barricade is Iconic in the original production, it blew my mind when I first saw it and I don’t want to spoil that for any one who may see it before July-Marius wears a blue coat and I hate it (costuming is a whole nother issue, if we lose Combeferre wearing two waistcoats, we really just lose ourselves)-Also, just to go back to the WAGON I HATE THAT WAGON-a wagon I don’t hate is the Do You Hear The People Sing? wagon. I shall miss her the most.

I’m salty the end.

Also!! Thanks for getting to the bottom of this, I will be gifting out the 2011 and 2014 West End bootlegs I used for this post to anyone who messages me off-anon about them!  (for you movie fans - the 2011 bootleg has Killian Donnelly as Enjolras and Samantha Barks as Eponine)

[lostinathoughtonceagain]

Im not sure where to start although i feel like i alwyas start with that.My mom says i seem to be doing  alot better and inn truth i am. I feel more myself and joyous and mre personality, and than theres still an emptiness that creeps in. The sort of weird shame feeling i used to get in mornings or without a shirt on, i got it today after grabbing clothes from my moms. maybe this is just a personal issue but im trying not to isolate myself in my emotions. TI appreicate and find it hard to understand the idea of common humanity. It is true humans all epereince these emotions and it is only to ones disadvantage when we tell ourselves were the only ones who have ever felt these emotions. In truth we are the only ones who experience things given we all have different perspectives, childhoods, personalities, and biology of our brains.. yet i think that an important to try to find the common humanity. empathy, relating to one another. we are more alike than we are different. YOu know when your on the freeway and you wonder where are all these people going. Myabe some are picking up there kids, going to a booty call, stopping to grab bananas at the store, and we wont ever know, everyone is all doing there own thing, eveyone is jsut driving just going to work doing things and im wo dering if anyone else is freaked out about what is happening. Why the hell are we here?n why iseveryone not freaking out with the little time we have, i want to make the most out of what is happeing i dont want to waste any more time not being  where i want to be, i wanted to be skinny so i can go on with my life. But i geuess thats alos the point of life. ive been so worried about living that i havnt actually been living. Im failing at an attempt to handle my shit. I look back on the past and how come i can only think, mostly think of the bad things. The relationships that i shouldve ended sooner cuz i didnt really lvoe them as i thought love would be. THey were all merely a disspointment. That sounds rude but to put it this way i alwyas thought there was something better for me. MY parents used to say at times “its never enough for you katie” maybe that is true. maybe im never satisidef. Maybe it was because they were tired and had tried there best and i failed because my needs wernt meant. not that they were needs. I think back to guys ive hooked up with and wish i had higher standards. why did i find satisfaction in attention from people that didnt even care about me. WHen guys used me and i was glad to let them. Especailly when i had previous ly had crsushes on them. FUCK BOYS WITH J names. i dont know why im writing as if im writing a story. maybe it makes it easier maybeim trying to articulate my thoughts into something there not. I think about things that have happened and hope i can maybe use them as a testimony maybe ill meet the love of my life adn get to share all these stories... but i dont things play out like that and thats a weird perspective to have on things thsat occur. Like as if im a narrator. I would get so ecited to send cute pictures of myself when i was  baby and show my boyfriends, or share things with them but then i realized something. they dont care, well definlty not like me. That ecitement about it is not the same as the one im epereiecning and when i was sent baby pictures of them, i didnt feel that warmth in my heart. maybe that makes me a bitch or emotionally disconnected. but how do i know if im feelin. what connections have i made. I used to want to be under the influence and gina my therapist said that people go to substances to feel connection. When i was on coke, life was beautiful i could talk to anyoe and everyone adn words flowed so well. In my head, looking back i probably looked like a crack head and thats the reality of it. I can manipulate my reality but to what is its value if its a lie. if no one else feels or sees what im seeing. ona  nother thought  i think we can make up these sotries in our heads that arnt even true. like somone tells us something or we feel a certain way about ourself so and it ends upso our whole olives our affected by this painting in our head only to find out no one sees what were seeing. my dad said that we can change the past, welll we can change our past by changing how we look at it. and i think if we could grasp it it would change our lives. I think that i could look back and not feel that shame, or not feel that embarressment. But am i not a sum of all the words thoughts and actions ive done or had uot o this point? thats depressing, but if it were something i was proud of then yes i would like to be. but the truth is all wehave is the now and you can start now being a totally different person, but you cant run away from all the consequences of the past i guess they jsut dont matter if you decide to change. but then what about bridges burned. i guess my plan b ina  sense is to run away to another country. but then theres legal issues and this whole system and ates and bad guys and tso m8uch to worry about that i dont feela  sense of freedom. my information is online and under a sytem and i undertsadn why i just wish everything could be quiet for sa sec. mayeb i dont want to be aktie stowers anymore. I get jealos of girls born and raised pretyy. all ive done is starved myself in the process of becoming what i want to be but thats not even me. if i have to starve to et there then i feel as though i dont actuallyl deserve to be skinny. and i fee l so vain for obsessing over this fucking thought. iw anted to be skinny this is what ive said from the beginging can someoine please help me do it. the probelm is that im in treatment for anoreica sub purge type and the reality is that i cant lose weight withought going to etreme measures. it became the most important thing in my life and ive been strung up on the same thought since fucking march of 2018. talk about time wasted. although i know thats no way of looking at it. ive learned lessons and have ad so many beautiufl things happpen. I get told very kind things about myself. i wonder if im actually a kind person or i only do things simply to be a kind person. if eel kinda selfish but i guess we all are. i mean think about how amny bad things are happening in this world and children starving and here i am buying things i dont need anf focuing on myself. but im not doing anything about it. i mean i try to tip etra give to homless ifi can i just feel guilt because i could be doing more but ijalso know that im not responsibly to save the world. jsut seems wrong the way things are. thats why i believe everyone goes to heaven. maybe because i cant wrap my head around the possily fact that barrett wouldnt and also becasue the idea of eternal damnation dosnt seem like the character of a god i want to serve. i see so much bullshit in the church and i just dont know . am i jsut angry. I became so jdugemntal of those judging me and thats just as worse but when theres almost a cluba nd you dont fit into there critera it fucking hutts. and that dosnt feel liek jesus i think jesus wouldnt let us be seperated by rleigion or if you drank last weekend. I think we should all unite and love each other and thats what reallly matters. yet here i am obsessed over being skinny. im down to 4 hour as of yesterday and i feel so much better i do. i just wish i could have one long 2 day therapy session whre i fucking figure out all my shit. ive gone to so much therapy and its been etremly helpful i jsut dont wanna waste anymore time with this baggage. I dont wanna go a minute longer when i could giure all this out. i guess what im saying is i want my life tp be an open canvas and not be unravveling and my childhood issues poopping up.. i want to go into the fututre knowing what i know adn epeireicning my life as it plays out. but i am 18 ishouldnt be thinking this much into things huh i should just let it be and lvie my life. i should be doung homework an teting my frienfds or going on a date. but thats not ther eality of things and alos i think ill look abck and things will be different. IOm also int reatment rn so oviously my situation is not exactly normal. i really do love to write i used to always want to be an author. but i dont kno0w anymore. i jsut dont really like how the sytem works i hate how we all have to go to college amd study things i dont give a fuck about and then some struggle at there 9-5 to merely surve eand ig uess i dont like the thoughr of that. and i know were suppsoed to find joys in the little things i think things are jsut freaking me out. iw ant to quit smoking nicatine but everyday i go out and do it. ig uess that meanns i dont really want to stop because if i did i would. i  and then i feel slightly guilty and opackiy because his is the only boduy im given. like does that not freak everyone out. this is the only way we are able to eperience life. think about how quickly it can be ended. i think that is too much pwier overmyself. nmot that im suicidal but i do think i hgave the power to find out super son what is after this life. judgment day, pure nothingness, maybe ill become a=one of the many ants i ahev enjoyed killed as a punsihemtn for msyelf. or hoe[fully and maybe ill entire a heaven with a lovuing god. a state of being with loved ones. I think thats why people like the idea of heavn the idea that you will see people later. but that discount the factof pain. when someones child dies they dont feel any less pain because a verse about being reunited with the,. because the truht im scared to tyee is that theres a possibility heaven isnt rela. and the loved one that is lost will never be in your reaach again.i feel sad for how ome peoples lifeves go. i hope they get a chance in the after life to have what they wanted. but then i think abotu abd guys. i wouldnt want them in my heaven. i guess maybe who we all our at our core is who would be in heaven beyond all the nasty. yet i dont believ flesh is nasty and i dont believ trying my whole life to not be something i was made to be. if my flesh is evil adn mankind is doomed what the fuck is that. i dont think god would set us upnto fail and i believ ehe understands we are human. and gpd is god and god knew everything that was going to happen up to npw. u know whats crazy is that on the time line we are on the edge of what is to come. being aluive rn. and its crazy that i wont be here in 100 years. ill be merely history. but rn we are whats happneing 7:12 november 11th. we are up to datebecause we are merely aliver. unless there is different universes and this is m,erely a simulation. but besides the point. barrett was talking about just how many books songs and information there is. that makes me pancik there is so many people so many things i could learn and musici could listen to that no one can listen to it all. maybe theresa song out there that is my favorite son that ill never get to lsiten to but i gues si jsut have to trust that the universe ligns up as it should and my life will happen as it should. and alll these things are happneing and were floating in the middle of space and yet i feel like people arnt freaking out. like what hthe actual fuck is happneing. and why do iu want to soedn my one life doing shit that dosn matter or something i dont even love. but thats how life works because you have to have moneya nd i do love bying things. and i jsut need to relax. because when people look back on there past they think if i could only tell msyelf its going to be okaya nd to have fun. why cant i do taht i mean i can but tehn these thughts come in. iwant to be skinny i also love food. starving was easy and i like d seeing my bones show,. i wanted people to see me and know i was hurting but people dont wanna be sround sa dpeople i guess i just wanted o be rescued. and at the same time it was nice to focus on the thingsd because even if all went ot hell if i restricted enought hat was okay my eating idsorder would tell me that  everything was going to be okay because i was taking care of the one thing i actaully wanted. writing this makes me sound crazy to msyelf. i have so many things i want to larn and do and so having an eating disorder makes me feel limated. amd truly it does limit me. it dosnt allow me to worry and think about these tihngs. i just really want to be skinnya dn i dont know where this started or why its so impiortant but i just am not a fann of my boyd. and i know tis terirble because im more than m y body and i know i cant stave mtyself and i know that this makes me self cenetred i know that it didnt pkay out as the damsel in distress that i wanted i know wthat i pushed loved ones away and made desisions taht really arnt alligned with my values because truly i didnt care i just wanted to get skinny i know i didnt look healthy bu in my mind that s the best ive eever looked. i know that the husband i meet is going to lvoe me for whats beond my appreance so it dosnt matter and getting atention from others isnt satisying and only leaves me feeling empty i knwo lifes to short to count your calories, to walk around feeling fraila nd loung every seconds. to reach 109 and not see a body close to what was at 116. to talk about numbers because they w]makr improtant parts of my life adn to allso swear that i dont care that much about the numbers. i care about the look. but if what they say is true and i ahve body dismprhia thats impossible. they say the eating idpsrder says itll never be enough. it will nevr be satisiuded. “ its never enough katie” never enough

and so maybe its me maybe im just this warped person. why do memories come back so weird and hwy did i have su h weird thoughts a s f\child. why do i get filled with so much rage. somtiems i think im the most grogeous girl and others i want to killmsyelf because i fel worthless. imm not suicdial but i can remeberthe first time i thought about killing kmyself i was in the abck seat of the car my brothers wre all teasing me about soething but for whatecer reason i was upset by it. i remebr crying and thinking how bad thye would feel if i killed myself. i carried this idealation iwht me later on. gina says i used this as a coping skill.w whenevr someone was mean, didnt say the right thing, didnt invite me, or a aprent said something hurtful. o thouhgt about it as if i were a ghost. watching how sad they were that they had not done better with me. that they said those angry words last to me instead of teeling me uhow much they lvoed me. that when they gossiped ghey felt so bad after because i was dead. i sometimes wish i could watch this unfold. but thats demented and evil. my ghost smiling with satifdaction as she watches loved one who id love and people who were simply lvingnthere life be affected by this. what good would it do to me or them. it would ruin them, does thaa amke mf evil. and then i realzie thats not how death wokrs. ill go to  wahtevr is after this.a dm why would i waste my eistence on a disguestingnromantizsm of revenge.  shpuld move on better msyelf and make connections and share with my lovedones hwen theyve hurt me or that i need more love.  i love treamnt. i love the lif3 im having. besids hating my body i love doing art and larning life skills and if eel like pooeple love me for me there and i can really be myself and support others. but i cant live my life in treatment. i want to relapse theres a few pros to this. one i get skinny againa dn can take pcitures while im skinnya dn try to do it a healthier way. 2 i can jsut go back to treatment and 3 thats a big fuck you to insuracne and theyll realize i coudlve used more help. my ancupucture lady said i need to let people help me adn its tru. i can read boooks hae copnversations go toa therapist but what goofd does it do if its not evn sticking with me. if i dont allow it to change me. im so stuck in that i want to be skinny. but im also tired of haojng my body, the thought about being okay iwht my body is sad to. ill jsut be ugly and not care? amd i wont be ablr to beas beautiful as i want to be. the law of attraction streases me out to because what if everytihng im writing is manif3sting as we speak. hut io cant just iugnore all thse thoughts. its good to journl ane write. i smoked the other night and told susan and brooke but lied to my treatment team. but honestly i was anxious the whole time and outside of playing with myself and dougna  trippy spiritaul mediaiton itwasnt the best time. it ,made me realize i enjoy beig sober bcecause i can do lall the things i want to do and not be stupid and i can be mindful. but then i feel a little desperate at the idea of not having anys ubstances. i sjsut need to create a good ralit y formyself. also i just don tfeel like im the little blon girl in my baby photos like me and her arnt \even the same person but i am i am her in 18 year old form. i jsut dont even know who i am or whats happening. iw ant to chilla dn i need to find balance. maybe this is because my brain has more room oto think about thoings. it kinda hurts me that my mom dsont know that much about eating disorders but yet she says she knows how bad these thionhd can get. likes he can talk so much about me needing help and this and that and yet she hasnt veen taken the tiem to udnerstand what it is im goi g throug. but i shoudlnt epect her to i dont evn knkw what is happneing. cons of relasping is more time wwasting life farther form my hoal. what is my goal all i can think abou t is working on my body bye cercising and eating healthy after treatment. iu dont underdstand why people dopnt think this is a huge thing for me. it makes it so i cant wear what. im so tired of caring. i want to get out of my head. but reality is i am katie and i have to deal wiht whats going on it dosnt do any good whining about it. another con is that my family would be disapinted. im kinda scared i ahev cancer ir im going ot die and jus stop breatinh. its probaly jsut anxiety . nbut i think about the drugs ive done and all that ive smoked and when ive starved and i wonder if im jsut shutting gdown. but i guess were all shutting down. but you cant tell kids these tihngs they dont care and they wouldnt undertsnad. i guess im jsut freaking out at my very eistence. im also very thankful to ebe alive. the fact were all ehsiting rn is crazy i think everything happens for a reason and theres a beautiful lessona nd “work of art called love” desinged by the creator. i ksut dpnt think itds what people think its actaully is. julian is just dsigusing why was i ever ino him. but i cant stop 16 year old me by being into him. but he really wasa dick adn oi dont think hes aw the value in me. my idea of him thinking that was because hesa  lot uglier than me or the line in fredys song where he says “ why would a girl like you fall for a guy like me” and he saud thatr eminded him of us i thought that was so sweet. MO that dosnt mean he values me. why was i so okay with accepting bullshit.a nd nathan. i really liked nathan we were bestfriends. but i got really cazy jealous. i was supposed to eat2 and ahalf hours ago and im not rally hungry. hence my hunger ques are off. i lost 4 lbs over the weekedn and im on weight restoration i was given till friday before i have tonadd even more additions because im not supposed to be lsoing weight. but i dint feel sad baout it. i felt eciteed i guess my bodys ina  place where it can lsoe weight easily. i feel like i should take advantage of it. is this litterally the eating disorder tuyping as we speak am i poseed. it is katie stowers. i guess thats what an eating idorder does. i think i ought to steer clear of caffense and weed. make things a little less harde.r and truly i shuld try to quit nicatine. ots just so nice to do but i think i ought to just not do it. i think idts a porblem because i can already mpciture me going outside after break and smoking. “evntually ill quit shes aid” when i quoted julien baker in her song ahppy to be hee to esther it says “ i miss you the way that i miss nicatine” she waled away after. felt a little judged honeslt and i dont think it was cuz of me but i am better than to smoke nicatine. i think im gonna not do it tomorow. adn if i succeed well see about friday. but it is a hbit i shoudl break. but anyways theres a lot to worry about and be ecited about to and im having a hard time manging it all. and i opuld go on times ten of whats been happneing in my brain ina  therap y session but it dosnt happne.

[sindria]

the thing about internalized homophobia is that it can disguise itself as many things, and it can also just effect every other thing in your life that might relate to intimacy issues. i feel guilt for just being interested in someone, being attracted to someone, and predatory for crushing on someone. even though there’s absolutely no reason to

people think its easy to explain it away, that just telling yourself over and over that its okay that itll go away. but unfortunately it doesnt work like that, not when you have heteronormativity coming at you constantly without even realizing it. 

i grew up catholic but im not really sure how much that played a role in my internalized issues. i was so uninterested even as a child that everything that was said to me went straight over my head and luckily my parents werent so into catholicism in general

i panic when i recognize that i have feelings for a guy, i do absolutely everything in my power to ignore it, forget about it, act like its some Nasty thing in a joking manner. and like... why

part of it is also internalized transphobia, like who would be interested in me, im trans and too soft and my own dysphoria bleeds into like. “well bc i think i look like this why would anyone be into that”, so thats like a whole nother can of worms

its so complicated and sometimes you project onto rpf characters who are murdered for being gay lmao

[ruminativerabbi]

Three Good People

Just this week, three separate emails landed in my inbox that actually made me feel encouraged and hopeful about the future. Since so much of what I’ve written about lately has been so dour and/or anxiety-provoking, I thought I’d change up the pace this week and write instead about three recent events that made me feel hopeful about the future.

First up was the speech delivered at an American Jewish Committee forum in Brussels last week by Sebastian Kurz, the chancellor of Austria (and at age thirty-three the youngest serving head of government in the world). My feelings about Austria in general are complicated, and not least of all because my initiation into the whole world of Shoah-displaced people was via my parents’ next-door neighbors who were refugees from Austria and whose stories of life in Nazi Vienna were beyond terrifying. Nor have my sentiments become less complex with the passage of time, as I continue to marvel at the Austrians’ post-war success in turning themselves from a nation of avid Nazi supporters who enthusiastically welcomed union with Germany in 1938 into, by war’s end just eight years later, a victim nation to be pitied and rebuilt. Nor was this a momentary lapse of reasonableness: the so-called “victim theory,” according to which Austria had nothing for which to apologize and no sins for which to atone became the foundational idea of post-war Austria for decades and decades, only giving way to a more nuanced understanding of Austria’s role in the war (and in the exile and extermination of its Jewish citizenry) after Kurt Waldheim, a former Nazi officer, became Federal President of Austria in 1986 and forced the issue onto the public stage both in Austria and abroad.

That was then, however. And now is a whole ’nother story. I first became interested in Sebastian Kurz when I read a transcript of a speech he delivered last June in Jerusalem at a forum sponsored by the American Jewish Committee. One by one, the man addressed every skeleton in his nation’s closet, forcing both air and light into that traditionally very dark space and speaking words that would once have seemed impossible to hear from an Austrian politician. 

First, he took on the myth of Austrian victimhood. “Austria used to see itself as the first victim of the Nazis,” he said plainly enough. But then he went on to make his real point. “That is certainly true for all those who fought in the resistance, whom we cannot thank enough. But the ones who gathered in large numbers in Vienna in March 1938 [i.e., when Germany incorporated Austria into the Reich] were not victims. The ones who watched and participated when their neighbors were robbed, thrown out, and murdered were not victims. And the ones who committed the terrible mass murder of Jews were not victims at all. To remember means to admit the truth. At that time, many Austrians supported a system which killed over 6 million Jews from all over Europe and beyond, among them more than 60,000 fellow Austrian Jewish citizens in Austria alone!”

I was impressed. But he went much further. He admitted that Shoah survivors were specifically not welcomed back to Austria after the war and that his nation’s lack of generosity towards people who had been publicly humiliated and robbed of their possessions was a heavy burden all Austrians must now bear. And then he went on to talk about the efforts being made to foster what he called “a culture of commemoration” in Austria’s schools and to create a Shoah memorial in Vienna. Finally, he spoke warmly about his nation’s ongoing support for Israel, announced a million-Euro gift to Yad Vashem, and concluded with these words: “Let me state very clearly: Austria supports Israel and the global fight against anti-Semitism not for political or economic reasons, but as part of our friendship, of our moral obligation, to humanity. Only if Jewish people can live without restriction in peace and security can the eternal call “never forget” truly become a “never again.”

But that was last year’s speech and now, just this last week, Chancellor Kurz was back at an AJC forum, this one in Brussels, to talk about the resurgence of European anti-Semitism. I listened carefully and I recommend that my readers all do too. (You can click here to hear the speech, which is only less than twenty minutes long. Skip forward to the eleven-minute mark in the clip, which is where Kurz begins to speak. There is no translator; Kurz speaks in excellent, clear English.)  Again, he speaks openly about the grief and guilt he feels as a citizen of Austria when he contemplates his nation’s role in the Shoah. (He uses the term “Shoah” too, which also impressed me for some reason.) He resumes his theme about the importance of supporting Israel, which he references as a “stronghold of democracy, rule of law, and prosperity in the Middle East and in the whole world.” But this speech was primarily about anti-Semitism and I found his comments so important that I want to share them with you all in detail.

He declares openly that, in his opinion (as in mine), “anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism are often two sides of the same coin.” The latter especially is not to be confused with being opposed to this or that Israeli policy; anti-Zionism is the global refutation of Israel’s right to exist and the Chancellor correctly understood that there can be no more precise definition of anti-Semitism than that. Particularly moving were his comments about anti-Semitism on the micro level: “No one, no matter who they are, where they are from, or what their faith is, must ever feel afraid to walk in the streets of any European country. We owe this assurance to all people in Europe and especially to the Jewish community.” Try to imagine Kurt Waldheim saying those words other than perhaps sarcastically!

I encourage you to watch the speech and to listen. There are so many horrific things in the world, so many haters, so much violence, so many reasons to feel unsafe and insecure. And then this one person appears on the stage, this very young man, who seems to see things clearly, who is in a position to make a huge difference, and who does not seem to fear speaking his mind openly and courageously. I listened to the youtube clip three times in a row and can only say that Sebastian Kurz accomplished something that I can’t recall an Israeli or American politician doing in quite some time: he made me feel fully hopeful that there are good people in the world…and that the world will be a safer and better place because such people exist in it.

And then I listened to two other speeches and was just as impressed. It was, given my generally dour mood over these last months, a remarkable experience.

First, I listened to the speech Representative Steny H. Hoyer (D-Maryland) delivered at AIPAC last Monday. He’s a good speaker, but it was the content of his remarks that I found so heartening: here was a Democrat—and not just a Democrat but the Democrat serving as House Majority Leader—who spoke passionately about his support for Israel in the way that was clearly meant to distance himself and his colleagues from the two outspoken anti-Israel Democrats in the House, Ilhan Omar (D-Minnesota) and Rashida Tlaib (D-Michigan). When he dared any who would accuse Israel supporters of dual loyalty to include him in their charge, he sounded to me like an old-time Democrat for whom standing with Israel publicly and unambivalently would have been as natural as supporting any other one of our nation’s allies. His language was clearly aimed at those, like Omar and Tlaib, who frame their criticism of Israel using anti-Semitic tropes. He said that he and most Democrats stand “proudly and unapologetically” with Israel. He announced plans to lead a large delegation of Democrats to Israel later in the year. But most heartening of all was when he said this: “I am part of a large, bipartisan coalition in Congress supporting Israel. I tell Israel's detractors: accuse us. And millions of Americans, regardless of race or faith or partisan label, stand with Israel because they understand why our relationship with Israel is so important. Accuse us all!” He took a lot of heat for those words later on, including from some of his own colleagues, and tried to make it clear that he was speaking for Israel rather than against any specific individual. But his words were clear and heartfelt. I came away remembering that although Israel has some vocal enemies in Congress, it also has many friends…among whom Steny Hoyer certainly deserves to be numbered.

And then I listened to my third speech of the week, the one delivered at AIPAC by Joan Ryan, who just quit the Labour Party after forty years as a Labour M.P. in the British House of Commons over the issue of the anti-Semitism that has gripped the party under the leadership of Jeremy Corbin, whom she described openly as someone who “proudly declares Hamas and Hizbollah to be his friends” and who now “seeks to demonize and delegitimize Israel.”  She isn’t alone, of course: nine other Labour M.P.’s have quit the party in recent weeks over the rampant anti-Semitism and virulent anti-Israelism of is leader. For her decision to join them, she has been rewarded with what she herself characterized as a “torrent of abuse” that included threats of murder and rape. And yet she has stood her ground and spoke at AIPAC with a kind of confidence born of profound conviction. 

I’d like to give her the final word because I was so impressed with her remarks. “Sticking to your convictions,” she said, “isn’t always popular but it is always right.” (We all think that in theory, but which of us has paid the price Joan Ryan has for putting our money where our mouths are?) And then, after mentioning the vicious threats she has had to endure, she waved them all away graciously and bravely, noting that threats like that only strengthen her resolve to stand up for British Jews from attacks from the right and from the left, and to stand up for Israel. And she openly called on us all to “stand together—proud of each other and proud of Israel in the battles that lie ahead.”

So after so much dour news from so many different quarters and for so many months, these three speeches helped me recall that there really are decent people out there who have no trouble standing up for what they perceive to be right. That none of the people cited above is Jewish or a citizen of Israel also means a lot to me: it’s so easy to feel alone in this uncaring, dismal world that it is incredibly encouraging to recall that we aren’t alone, and that Israel also isn’t. The sonim won’t go away. But apparently neither will the good people. And where good people stand their ground and face down their foes, history has taught us again and again that they eventually prevail.  

[lia-nikiforov]

Weekly Anime Ramblings: There was a Kaisar under that Skirt!

If you don’t get the reference of the title, then lucky you because you’ve never heard of this one transphobic short anime that’s currently airing (which I, admittedly, haven’t watched).

Aaanyway idk if it’s been a week or not but there are a few shows I wanna talk about so here we go.

First, in some inconsequential developments, Centaurs Life did not become Snake Girl’s Life and I’m disappointed. Will this show ever replicate the magniicence of snake girl episode? I don’t think so.

Isekai Shokudou is breaking my heart with its unnecessary fanservice and careless, inconsistent writing, most noticeable during the Black Dragon segment, who of course transforms into a naked elf girl. 

Shoukoku no Altair is finally back from its two week break. It’s still kind of a mixed bag of interesting ideas with dull or over-the-top execution, but honestly I just want to bring up how ridiculous it is that the Not-Mediterranean sea is called Centro which is Spanish (and probably also Italian) for Center, so when you see this map with the word Centro written right in the center it’s just... hilariously silly

But guys, we gotta talk about Welcome to the Ballroom

(I mean, maybe if the music had any relevance and if the dance had been more than a ton of still shots maybe I would’ve???)

The main issue, however, is how the mysogyny continues to escalate in the writing, to unbearable degrees.

This episode focuses on Tatara challenging Gaju to compete at the Tenpei Cup. If Tatara wins, Gaju will go back to partnering with Mako and leave Shizuku to return with Hyodo. That would be all fine and dandy if this was smethng agreed upon by all four people involved... but it isn’t. Let’s break it down step by step 

1)Tatara spawns the "bet” on to Gaju on the spot, clearly without Mako’s approval. This is particularly awful because the previous episode ended with Mako expressing her wish to partner up with Tatara.

2)Gaju takes on the challenge, confident that he’s more talented than Tatara and it’s the leader that determines the victory. This directly contradicts his statement that Mako was holding him back and no one calls him out on the hipocrisy.

3)During this whole exchange, neither Mako nor Shizuku utter a single peep. The guys are left to rule and decide on these girls’ futures without asking for their opinions. It is pecially glaring of Shizuku since she was so upfront of wanting to pair with Gaju out of her frustration with Hyodo, and not a single character has vindicated her right to be upset about the bullshit Hyodo and Sengoku pulled at the Mikasa Cup.

In fact, Shizuku doesn’t have a single spoken line in the entire episode, even though she is present in at least half a dozen scenes. She’s been reduced to a trophy the guys pass around, either to reassert their masculinity or, in Tatara’s case, to use her as a surrogate for his divorce trauma.

By the way, this whole “I want Hyodo and Shizuku to get back together because I have divorce trauma” motivation is so terribly stupid and contrived. Firstly because it pends on a very flimsy “Sengoku said ballroom pairs are like marriages” allegory. 

But mostly because it is unfair of him to project that issue onto a pair of people completely unrelated to him and that trauma. Mako says “Tatara thinks more about others than himself”, but I don’t think this is accurate at all. In fact, the only reason Tatara seems to be doing this is to deal with a possibly lingering feeling of guilt over his parents’ divorce (which wouldn’t be uncommon, especially if he as a child when the divorce happened. I also have some qualms about the ‘oh no divorce is so bad and traumatic’ trope, but that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms). In fact, he doesn’t seem to be thinking much about Mako and Gaju, his focus is mostly on getting Shizuku and Hyodo back together (partly also due to Hyodo naming him the Shizuku caregiver, yet another slap to Shizuku’s agency as a character)

His way of going about it is also horribly misguided -which would be fine if someone told him, but instead of that, he is praised for it-. Instead of trying to force Gaju to drop Shizuku, it would make way more sense for him to talk to Hyodo about the reason Shizuku is angry and convince him to apologize and to show more trust towards his partner. Heck, if you want to go tropey about it, he could set up a meeting between Hyodo and Shizuku so he could discuss the issue. But what he does is trample over Shizuku’s agency by ignoring and invalidating the reasons she dropped Hyodo to begin with.

The episode also continues the trend of having the girls show no particular participation or even minimal awareness of what is going on during the dancing scenes. They’re treated like puppets that just get pulled around by the men’s constant dick-measuring contests. No wonder Yuri on Ice haters were touting this one as the second coming of Christ.

On to happier news, Virgin Soul is also back this week! Overall I liked the episode but I have mixed feelings about the plot advancements we’ve had considring there is less than half a cour left to tie everything up. But I want to bring up two very good scenes that took place this episode:

The first one is Azazel’s development. Although he was featured prominently in the first half of the show, after his imprisonmnet he has been MIA for most episodes, but this week brought his character arc to an apex in his reunion with Mugaro. 

It’s an excellently written scene because without any words we are made to understand Azazel’s regret and that he’s finally accepted the blame/responsibility for what happened with his friends during his failed rebellion. Putting all his stock on the red dragon and trying to use Nina to his benefit without even properly telling her about it not only did not pay off but was also a very shitty thing to do, both for the friends he enlisted and for Nina, and it was great to see him own up to that mistake. That he showed it through rescuing Mugaro and telling him “you have nthing to apologize for” made the scene all the more touching and genuine.

The second scene I loved was the one between Favaro and Nina. We haven’t been able to see many manifestations of their bond so far, but their dynamics here were fun and very organic. It was interesting to see a more mature side of Favaro and to finally see the sequels of the events in Genesis in him. His musings on Amira and his regrets were heartbreaking and very touching.

But let’s be real though, the actual winner of this episode -and th week- was Kaisar in drag

I never knew I needed Kaisar in drag until I got it and now I can’t live without it. Kaisar is too pure for any of these other assholes, protect Kaisar at all costs.