#pah jesus christ

[cahirsmommy]

the german steve carell

[spoiledlbleach]

russian cyrillic alphabet for anyone who asked! it's gonna be hell of a ride but that's what you asked for kekw

So the cyrillic alphabet was based on the greek alphabet just like the latin alphabet and therefore theres a lot of greek letters in russian

disclaimer for reading rules (you can skip this part)

i need to mention that the russian letters denote sounds but in russian theres such a phonetical phenomenon called reduction and you can hear this as a part of russian accent in english when bed sound like bet, fog like foc, sob like sop etc (b, d, g & others at the end -> p, t, k). Also o, a, e vowels are pronounced differently in different parts of the word... And sadly for russian learners the stress on the words is flexible and changes bc of different reasons. And theres no way you can see stress marks on the words except if youre looking at them in the dictionary.. yeah. So if the pronunciation doesnt make sense thats why

There are 33 letters in russian alphabet. P.s. ['] means its a soft, palatalized sound, like british l in a word village

Аа - basic, its the 'ah' sound (Алфавит [ahl-fah-v'EEt] -> alphabet)

Бб - the capital letter looks like B without the head and the lowercase one looks like 6 for some. You were right when you thought that it looks like B because its the 'b' sound! (Буква [bOOk-va] -> letter, краб [crahp, no not crap] -> crab)

Вв - looks like B, right? that's a v. Imagine it like this emoji :B this silly lil guy looks like theyre saying vvvvv. (Вишня [v'EEsh-n'ya] -> cherry)

Гг - upside down L, its actually g, like a Бумеранг [boo-m'ee-rAHnk] -> boomerang. Another example, Гость [gohst']

Дд - that's a weird looking one, looks like a house and its Дом [dohm, not dom] in russian. Another example, друг [drook] -> друг

Ее - yeah. the pronunciation is yeah (Ель [yel'] -> spruce/christmas tree, деревня [d'ee-r'EHv- n'ya] -> village)

Ёё - the yeah brother! yo lmao (Ёж [yozh] -> hedgehog) its always stressed so no problems with that. btw if you ask me its the most hated letter. ppl dont put it where it should go and just leave e! wtf! its ё т-т)

Жж - looks like a bug and sounds like one. its zhhhh like in the word garage (Жук [zhook] -> bug, гараж [gah-rAHsh] -> garage, see the reduction there?)

Зз - ah yes the number 3. its the z sound actually (Змея [zm'ee-YA] -> snake, образ [OH-brahs] -> look, image, outfit)

Ии - backwords N is actually a vowel, its our ee sound! (Игра [EEg-rah] -> game)

Йй - и brother, the short и. its y- (Йогурт [yOH-gurt])

Кк - straight up k, always and ever, no example cuz its the same in every position and pretty straightforward

Лл - um... its an L.. idk how you should remember that... (Люстра [l'YOO-strah] -> chandelier]

Мм - an M (Медведь [m'eet-v'EHt'] -> bear)

Нн - you cannot laugh like that in russian, it would be not hahaha but nanana (Банан [bah-nAHn] -> banana]

Оо - oh (Облако [OH-blah-koh] -> cloud)

Пп - p sound (Папа [pAH-pah] -> papa, dad)

Рр - thats not p, its r (Русский алфавит [rOOsk'iy AHl-fah-v'eet] -> russian alphabet]

Сс - not c but s (Собака [cah-bAH-kah] -> dog)

Тт - T

Уу - not y but more like u/oo (Уже [oo-zhEH] -> already)

Фф - impaled o, almost like Q, yet it is ph/f (Фит [f'eet] = Fit)

Хх - never an x, its a h! xaxaxaxa

Цц - upside down п with a tail? erm alright its a ts (Цирк [tsyrk] -> circus)

Чч - upside down h, ch! (Что [shtoh] -> what, more like an exception; Человек [ch'eh-loh-v'EHk] -> person, human being, also чел is the way we say dude, also чувак [ch'oo-vAHk])

Шш - шшш quiet its a sh (Душ [doosh] -> shower]

Щщ - soft sh, sometimes transliterated as tsch or shch. jesus christ (Щека [sh'ee-kAH] -> cheek)

Ъъ - you cant pronounce that. its the glottal stop so you pronounce some sounds separately. like british water you would spell it with ъ in theory, waъer (Съел [s-yel] -> he have eaten; if there wasnt a ъ it would be pronounced [s'ehl] which mean he has sat down. different meaning)

Ыы - okay thats a tricky one. make this face 😬 and now make a sound. thats ы, ive marked it as y in the square brackets (Мы [my] -> we, us)

Ьь - cant pronounce that too. this one denotes the softness of the consonant sound

Ээ - ay without the y (=Эй)

Юю - you (Юбка [YOObkah] -> skirt)

Яя - ya, not backwards R (Яблоко [YAH-blah-koh] -> apple, Pommie ^_^)

Now try to write down your name or the name of a cc/npc/egg/other in russian ! you can leave them in the comments or in my ask box, id love to see you learning :D

some tips on transliterating:

ENGLISH w is generally у, can be в. q is к (qu is кв), j/g is дж, x is кс, h is г in the begging of the names/foreigh words like hannibal is ганнибал

SPANISH ñ is нь, pls google other cases

PORTUGUESE nh is нь, lh is ль, pls google other cases

general advice try transliterating like Fit -> Фит, so every letter/cluster of letters in the original language correlates with similar letter in russian. but in french portuguese and spanish you have to pay close attention to pronunciation, more than to the spelling cuz Ricardo will be Рикардо for spanish but Рикарду for portuguese etc etc

ok i hope you had fun with this long ass post ! ^_^

[bossymarmalade]

@spaceorphan18 tagged me to spell my journal name in song titles so here goes, the all-musicals version: B: Bring Him Home - Les Miserables O: Oom-Pah-Pah - Oliver! S: Santa Fe - Newsies S: Suddenly Seymour - Little Shop of Horrors Y: You Can't Stop the Beat - Hairspray M: Mr. Cellophane - Chicago A: All I Ask of You - Phantom of the Opera R: Rose Tint My World - Rocky Horror Picture Show M: Moses - Singin' in the Rain A: Adelaide's Lament - Guys and Dolls L: Louisiana Hayride - The Bandwagon A: Anatevka - Fiddler on the Roof D: Damned for All Time - Jesus Christ Superstar E: Edelweiss - The Sound of Music

tagging @snarkyblue and only @snarkyblue lol

[tielt]

Ësti

in many languages Ë has the sound of the vowel /ə/ . This is sounds like the middle eh in pay without the pah leading consonant. Many languages this character represents the 'schwa' particle as is seen in this wiki entry.

You can make a symmetry anagram with it like this

itzəsti (it zesti)

below the fold is an analysis

Ë corrects to E if a western computer reads my birth certificate.  The name Estee also has some interesting lore from the bible, Estee as in Ester. I won't try to transcribe what the book meant, because I'm not Jewish/Christian but I want to point at this entry:

"In an apparent connection made by Hitler between his Nazi regime and the role of Haman, Hitler stated in a speech made on 30 January 1944, that if the Nazis were defeated, the Jews could celebrate "a second Purim". Indeed, Julius Streicher was heard to sarcastically remark "Purimfest 1946" as he ascended the scaffold after Nuremberg."

I won't read my schwa name, but I think esti is fitting because thats the same vowel as hold schwa. If you watch Kino's Journey ep 8, the implication of what it meant to me was that Christ was reborn from the removal of all of his Karma with a painful process and encountered Ascension and the episode points at the inherent duality between these two forms of thought. I don't like the bible, but I'm not a critic of anything Jesus personally said or did. The swastika is now a real stigmata whether it's personal or not.

"It's spicy" is my middle name and there is a lot of context there and to me the least interesting is that its the evil e. I personally believe unfortunately every human has some diffuse karma related to this and part of getting out is in it's removal. I think that the weight is a diffuse thing that isn't at our current stage particularly personal to ones own person.

My favorite part of that Kino's Journey ep 8 is when they at the end it was like they were compelled to suggest to Nimia how to get off the ground and they didn't even believe it would work. Some people say all religions preach basically the same, this projection solves exactly the one that makes it difficult to believe is true. This is basically the only thing that manages to fuse two completely different forms of thought. You know I don't share the Christian views. We all exist in weird intersecting manifolds far above our ability to experience or transcribe and I'm in general a fan of fusion.

I stay agnostic, personally it looks like a rule of this place. You can not agree with someone and still treat them well.

[thegeminisage]

this monster battle is WAY HARDER than the last one.....i hope lurelin isn't too difficult 😭😭😭

i died >:(

i just have to be more careful about not getting hit lmao.

i had it down to ONE BOKOBLIN and the fucker got me with the long stick

I DID IT. jesus fucking christ

hm, they aren't going to lurelin....i guess i need other people for that? pah

in the livestream before the game released i saw a goron and the buckethead guy fighting in lurelin...man...i bet i have to do many quests first...

this guy talked about the blood moon. if i save lurelin, when the blood moon comes, will it be destroyed again? :(

killed myself another hinox but now i'm down to six arrows. SIX. ssssigh

i feel like i've been playing botw2 and not totk, which seems like nonsense, but i havent done any sky island stuff since the beginning. maybe i need to start the main quest lol

much as i don't want to, it might be time to do hebra...i wanna save gerudos for last, and i can't get to the gorons without going through the zoras, and that's what my brother is doing. BLEGH hebra it is!!!

maybe if i do the main quest, i'll find a way to help lurelin 😭

[ash-a-twst-simp]

Start: To The Villains World, Ch 3

Creak-!

The girl opened the old and big doors of the hall slightly, and poked her head out of the gap between the doors.

What she saw was an empty hallway where not even a fly flew at. The walls were made of stones, there was a long green old but clean carpet on the ground, and a few candles in black candlesticks that burned with green flames.

Wait a fuckin' minute, green-?

_ Hey! What are you doing,get out already!

" Jesus Christ!"

The girl was startled by the shout that came from behind the door.

The girl stepped out into the hallway and then the cat came out from behind the doors.

" You startled me!"

" Hmph! For the better! That's what you get when you mess with The Great Grimm!"

" When did I ever mess with you…"

The girl put her hand on the side of her forehead and shook her head. She looked at the cat again.

Actually, she wanted to touch it to see if it was actually real, but she was afraid the cat kinda wouldn't be pleased by it, so she stopped thinking about this idea.

" Why isn't anyone here? Hello???"

The girl put her hands beside her mouth and shouted.

…

There was no response at all.

Was there really no one or were they ignoring here?

The girl looked at the racoon-like cat monster.

" Hey."

" What?"

" You know where this is, right? Why isn't anyone here?"

" Pah! You don't even know that? They are in the coffins you dummy!"

The girl gulped her saliva unconsciously. The only people who were here were the corpses in coffins…?

" T-then, there isn't anyone else?"

There should be someone else right? Who takes care of those corpses then? It's certainly not the cat, right?

The cat-like creature scratched its cheek with its paw and answered a moment after that.

" I guess the staff are preparing things for the ceremony."

The girl was relieved to hear that they were people here who were actually alive. Though if they were going to help her was another matter.

" But that's not what's important now!"

The girl looked at the cat-like creature. What was it trying to say?

" What do you mean?"

" How did you even get in that coffin?! Are you even a student?! This is a school for boys, there is no way that you could be picked by the mirror unless you pulled some schemes!"

" Woah, woah, slow down! What are you even talking about?"

Student? A school for boys? Being picked up by the mirror? What did all of this mean? All she saw was a hall full of coffins that she couldn't even count, which certainly had no connections to school ir students.

The cat-like creature stopped frowning and looked at her eyes with its large blue eyes.

" You really don't know what's going on?"

" Not even a clue."

Grimm put its paw on his muzzle and started to think what could actually have happened.

The girl seemed to be telling the truth. Now that he thought about it, all she had done till now was asking stupid and obvious questions.

" Hmm, how did you even get into the coffin?"

" I don't know."

" What do you even know?!"

Grimm was losing his patience more and more by the minute.

" Look here, Mr. Cat monster, all I remember is that I saw some black carriage and then I woke up here. So of course I’m confused!"

The girl didn't tell the cat-like monster that she had a car accident. She… just couldn't believe any of the things that were going on, even though they were real. She didn't trust this cute cat-like monster one bit. What if she told it that she had a car accident, and then it would say that she must be dead? What if the staff that it mentioned, come after her and force her to go back inside the coffin and then bury her alive?

She didn't even know why she was thinking about stupid things like this. Right now she should be looking for someone to ask them what is going on and get a phone. But fear was like a distressing melody that was being whispered into her ears.

She was alive, and there was no way she would accept being buried alive.

And it wasn't like she lied. All she remembers is that she saw a black carriage coming at her, and then she fell unconscious.

" Ugh! Don't blame me! How should I know what happened to you? You don't even remember how you ended up in the black carriage!"

Thanks god. It didn't seem to suspect anything.

The girl sighed and shook her head. The cat-like monster didn't seem to know what was going on, and it didn't seem to be related to the car accident.

But suddenly a question came to her mind.

What was this cute cat doing in that hall full of coffins?

" Actually enough of me. I'm sure that I heard your voice when I was in the coffin. You were chuckling with yourself?"

" Huh! Looks Like you finally remembered how you ruined my perfect plan!"

The girl titled her head with confusion. She ruined its plan?

" Your plan?"

" I was going to exchange the robes of the student who was supposed to be sleeping in the coffin, and then go inside the coffin myself, but when I unlocked the coffin, you jumped out! Not only you weren't sleeping, you also didn't have any robes!"

When the cat-like monster finally stopped talking, the girl said her conclusions out loud.

" So what you're saying is, that you were trying to steal the robes of the person who was laying in the coffin, get rid of the person themselves somehow, and take their place in the coffin?"

" That's right! Wait, no! I… I wasn't-!"

The girl smirked.

" Oh dear, looks like I just caught a criminal red-handed."

" Hmph! You're not that different yourself! The moment the staff notice you shouldn't be here, they will kick you out too!"

Wait, did she hear that right?

" Did you just say that the 'staff' will kick me out?"

The cat-like creature smirked and crossed its arms.

" Heh, that's right!"

" Then what are we waiting for?"

" What?"

The cat-like creature seemed confused.

" Let's go find the staff!"

The cat-like creature became startled.

" What?! Are you crazy?! Didn't you hear what I said just now? They will kick us out!"

" That's the point, don't you understand? I want to get out of here!"

That's right! If she found the staff, they could get her out of here! She could use their phone to call her parents or friend and get back home. Sure, everything here was weird, but surely there was a logical explanation behind all of this, right? Like, the coffins had invisible strings that made them float in the air, or this cat-like creature was actually a robot. She still had no idea of what this place actually was, or what happened with the black carriage, but she was going to find out sooner or later.

" Now show me the way. Where are the staff?"

The cat-like creature who was frowning raised its paw as a sign of stopping her.

" Now wait a minute! Maybe you want to get out of here, but I don't! Do you even know what I had to go through to enter this place?"

The girl rolled her eyes at the creature. Was it really serious?

" Oh please, do you think they were not going to find out and kick you out later? A naked corpse out of its place and a cat in its coffin instead. Are you dumb or what?"

" Ah…well, um…"

The cat-like creature was out of words.

" And why would you want to get inside a coffin? Do you want to be buried alive or what?"

" Buried alive? What are you talking about? Those coffins aren't going to be buried, idiot."

They weren't?

The girl got confused.

" Then what are they going to do with the corpses inside them?"

" Can you stop using that word? It's disgusting!"

" What word? Corpse?"

" Yeah! DON'T say that disgusting word!"

The girl rolled her eyes again. The cat-like creature seemed more of a softy than she had thought.

" Okay, then what are they going to do with the 'dead people' inside those coffins?"

The cat-like creature just didn't seem to understand what she was talking about.

" What dead people are you talking about? The students in the coffins are all alive."

A cold sweat rolled on the girl's cheek.

" They what?"

The cat calmly continued like he was stating the obvious.

" And the coffins are not going to be buried. The students inside them will come out, and the coffins will be empty till next year comes and new students get picked by the mirror and be brought here by the dark carriage."

…

She didn't understand a single word from what she just heard unless one thing. And it was the fact that there were people in the coffins that were alive, but somehow weren't going to be buried.

She suddenly thought of going back and checking the coffins but soon gave up on the thought. She probably wouldn't be able to hear the breathing anyway. Also, it was creepy to eavesdrop on a coffin.

" So you're telling me that there are people in those coffins that are alive and are going to come out?"

" Yeah, when the entrance ceremony begins, the students come out of coffins and then get sorted to the house that fits them the best. I was going to be part of that ceremony if not for you!"

The cat-like creature frowned and puffed its cheeks, which was way too adorable to handle.

[belladonna-wright]

Ill News is an ill guest

As Time Goes By - Chapter 7. 

March, 1911. 

Jessie receives some, inevitable, bad news. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Death. Blood. Gore. Violence. Message me for a TL:DR if you would prefer.

February 16th, 1911.

Dear Miss Wright

I hope you will forgive my writing abruptly like this, and I hope you remember me. We met once, when I was still a young child, and perhaps you don’t remember, but I remember you. I know you and Father wrote regularly, and he was always delighted to hear your updates and to hear of the places you have travelled to. He said he wrote about us, and me, and told me of how best to contact you through your lawyers should the need arise. 

I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news. My father died on the 10th of February, 1911, in a hospital in Boston. It followed a short illness, but the doctors say he did not suffer, and he was surrounded by family. I would have written, but knew the letter would not reach you in time. For that I apologise. I am afraid the funeral was a church service, but should you wish to send flowers, I would happily arrange it for you. 

I know my Father loved you very deeply, and maintained that we should always think of you as our Aunt, he told us often of your adventures as children, and of your travels. I should very much like to continue to correspond with you, per his wishes, and to keep you updated on our family, and to hear of your travels, but understand if you do not wish to reply. We are moving shortly - I have been offered a position in England, and will be travelling across on a steamer next month, but I will write to your lawyers again with our address once it has been arranged. 

Please accept my heartfelt condolences, 

Yours faithfully, 

Jedediah Wright. 

-

Bordeaux, 1st March, 1911.

Jessie paced the length of the darkened room, before wheeling on her heel. She was blind to the chaos that surrounded her as she paced back towards the door, her silhouette briefly outlined by the fire still smouldering in the hearth. 

She turned once more, and began to pace backwards, her shoes grinding glass into the hardwood floor. 

-

On the floor below, Monsieur du Pont eyed the ceiling nervously. The American woman had always been a good neighbour - cordial, polite, with an almost French air of practised disinterest when they met in the halls, quiet in her rooms… until tonight. Tonight he feared he would have to call the police. The thuds and scrapes, the sound of shattering glass and shrieking… Surely something was afoot? And now, worst of all, this interminable pacing. Every one of the slow, measured footsteps grating on his nerves a little more as somebody made their way across the floor above, like a ticking clock, counting down to some horrible revelation. 

But he shook himself. Pah. He was being foolish, letting the eerie stillness of the night get to him.

-

The relentless ticking stopped. Jessie stopped, her hands on her waist, staring at the wall. Wine dripped like blood down the crisp white plaster. She turned away from it, annoyed at herself.

Jesus Christ, she thought to herself, as she turned from the wall to survey the chaos that surrounded her. Well now, she was going to have to clear up after herself. 

Scowling fiercely, Jessie returned to one of the armchairs set near the fire. She stooped, and flipped it back onto its legs. She beat the loose feathers from one of the cushions, and flipped it so the jagged tears were out of sight, before she sank back into the chair.

Her black eyes were fixed on the fireplace, watching the sparks rise pointlessly into the air. How short their little lives were, before they fizzled into nothing. 

-

In the corner of her eye, the folded paper lay, one end moving slightly as a draught whirled through the room. It sat on the end table, just out of reach, taunting her. For a long while she simply stared at it - before, all at once, she leapt from the chair, snatched it up and crossed, ready to hurl it into the fire.

But her fingers betrayed her. 

She returned it to the table, where it lay open, its stabbing knife wounds open for all to see.

-

“Mademoiselle?” The tentative rap came at the door. He had liked the silence even less than the footsteps. “Mademoiselle Wright, is everything ok?” du Pont’s voice sounded at the door. 

Jessie let her head fall back against the chair, groaning inwardly. This was the problem with apartments. Too many people stacked on top of each other all privy to the others lives. 

She answered the door with a smiling face, letting it open just a crack. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry-” she glanced downwards, playing modest, “I hope I didn’t disturb you, I simply wanted to rearrange some furniture-”

“Of course-” du Pont’s eyes narrowed. That was no explanation for the smashing of glass, the howling like a woman in agony… “And are-” he lowered his voice. “Are you alone?”

Bless him. Curse him. Her cold heart froze solid. She knew he meant well, but he had made a mistake, coming here tonight. He would live to regret being so nosy… but not for long.

“Oh yes, yes. But I wouldn’t mind some company,” Jessie smiled, sweet as death. She opened the door to him.

Du Pont swept into the room, glancing around him at the chaos - surely there had been some terrible fight? What could have hurled furniture about like this? Mademoiselle Wright must be in terrible danger-

Jessie closed the door with a quiet click. Her gaze narrowed on the back of his neck. She could see the way the muscles stood out as he tensed, see the vein jumping as his pulse quickened. 

She was upon him before he could even turn around. 

-

Yes, yes that was what she needed, Jessie told herself, licking blood from her mouth. It was so warm, so vital, the way it gushed when she sank her fangs into his neck, the way he feebly tried to clutch at her arms. She would drink her fill and then watch as this meddling, nosy, busybody faded away into nothingness, nevermore to interfere in her life. Yes, she felt the power surging through her as she sank her lips to his neck again and heard him whimper in pain. Nothing could hurt her now, she was the apex predator, sating her hunger at the kill.

Her Mama always said that troubles seemed less on a full stomach. 

The memory flashed before her eyes so quickly she could have been staring at a photograph. 

Her and her brother, sick in bed, her mother feeding them soup and singing songs they barely understood. 

Jessie thrust du Pont away from her as if he burned, scrambling backwards on the floor. Blood dripped from her fangs. Du Pont’s pulse ticked weakly, as he lay in a crumpled heap. Fading… fading like Edward had faded, perhaps? 

The metal tang in the air made her feel sick, suddenly. 

Was du Pont a brother, too? A father, perhaps? She didn’t know, she’d never stopped to pay enough attention. She wiped his blood, still warm, from her lips, but it filled her every sense, the taste of it still begging her to take more, the warmth sliding down her cold throat. 

-

“Wake up-” Jessie crossed to him, and began to slap his face gently. “Wake up, you stupid French bastard-” If he had just kept out of her business, none of this would have happened. “Wake up!” Green eyes looked into hers, their focus swimming, as she pressed a hand to his neck to stem the bleeding.

-

He was pale, still, as she propped him into the chair, but the bleeding had stopped. She forced his mouth open, gently, pouring in the water. Du Pont spluttered a little, but drank. Good, good, that would help. 

“Now,” Jessie stooped, and looked into his eyes, caressing his face with one hand. “You’re going to go back downstairs,” her voice was melodic, gentle, coercive, layer upon layer of compulsion rippling through the air. “You’re going to wash, and go to bed. You will remember nothing about this evening, and nothing about me. You were never here.” 

She watched as his eyes slid out of focus again, and then back. Good. Good. He would obey, and she would leave this place, the sooner the better. Jessie helped him to his feet, and led him to the door, listening as his footsteps made their way unsteadily down the stairs and he fumbled with his key in the latch. 

Jessie collapsed back into her chair.

Her mother was wrong. A full stomach did nothing to ease this pain. She had thought that maybe his pain would somehow ease hers, but it didn’t.

She had thought that maybe, maybe if she howled and raged and tore and smashed and crashed like she used to, she would be able to feel something. She could not cry, but surely she could unleash it some other way? Better that than to keep this feeling inside her…

No… no. Her brother was still dead, and all that she had was this ache in her chest that throbbed like the beating of the heart she no longer used. It wasn’t how she remembered grief. She remembered it sharper, like fire searing through flesh, all-encompassing, all-embracing and total. This, this was just the dull weight that sat in her stomach like a pound of lead, with sickening certainty. 

She would never see her brother again. Her baby brother. 

She should never have seen this day. She should have gone first. If all of the laws of nature, and the gods of men were to be followed, she should have gone first. 

Jessie raised her head and gazed into the fire, before she lifted her hand and tried to smooth back some of the strands of hair that were falling across her face. Her hand, her tell-tale, treacherous hand, shook. Jessie clenched it, then forced the hair back from her face.

Ugh. Her hair was covered in blood, she would need a bath. And then, she would have to make arrangements. Perhaps the change of scene would do her good, she could go somewhere different… Nice, perhaps? Or she could head north again, spend the summer somewhere cool and shady? Yes, that would be a good idea. 

The letter had fallen to the floor. She cast a glance at it… she would retrieve it later. Maybe then she would think about replying, her nephew deserved that courtesy at least.

[osakiharu]

TR 251 SPOILERS !!

im gonna cry my eyes out i’m so done

[ja-mi-sa]

Analysis of the meaning of the symbolism of the “Team Walhalla” from Tokyo Revengers.

Gang of Walhalla. A gang of delinquents that was created by Kisaki to carry out his plan to control Mikey. The gang was led by Hanma, with former Mobius members becoming members. The event associated with Walhalla - Bloody Halloween is one of the most important in the manga, whose consequences still have to be dealt with.

The emblem of Valhalla is a headless angel with "芭流覇羅" written underneath. On their bomber jackets, the name is already written on the top as “Team Walhalla”.

Walhalla. Walhalla (Scand. Valhǫll - "chamber of the dead", "palace of the slain") - in German-Scandinavian mythology, a heavenly chamber in Asgard, where soldiers who fell in battle fall after death, and where they continue their former heroic life. Warriors who have fallen into Valhalla are called einherjar.

Einheri literally means "one who fights alone".

Virtually no one from Walhalla can be called a warrior. Not former Mobius members, not Hanma, not Kazutora. They do not have the qualities that are characteristic of a warrior. Nobility, courage, bravery is what is inherent in a true warrior. They respect the code of honor and adhere to it. That was Keisuke Baji, the man who fought against Kisaki and his pawns even though he was alone.

Baji is an Einheri who gave his life for the sake of his friends and what is dear to him, he fulfilled his duty as a warrior. He ends his life doing seppuku.

Seppuku is ritual suicide by ripping open the abdomen, adopted among the samurai. This could be a measure of punishment (sentence), a sign of loyalty to one's daimyo (master) or one's ideals, as well as the defense of a warrior's honor, ideals.

Baji defended his ideals. Ideals that his friends should not be at enmity, because they are his treasure.

Pah-chin, Mitsuya, Draken, Mikey, Kazutora. Toman's founding members are my treasure. I wanted to fix this on my own. But, I just couldn't. I died on my own.

When Emma first came to the Sano household, Baji and Manjiro came up with nicknames for themselves. Baji took the nickname "Edward". Edward is the "guardian of wealth, happiness" (ead means "happy, prosperous", and weard is translated as "guardian").

Headless angel.

An angel without a head, with a childish physique and outstretched arms is the symbol of the Valhalla gang.

Angels and children are most often associated with the pure, innocent and holy. That they beheaded this angel is their mockery of this purity. They show they are capable of “killing” holiness.

And Manjiro acts as an angel. His nickname "Mikey" comes from the name "Michael". Archangel Michael, head of angels and archangels. The name Michael means "one who is like God."

Mikey is an angel who has been beheaded.

The warrior dies and ends up in Walhalla, the angel loses his head. Baji commits seppuku, Mikey goes crazy.

Outstretched arms of an angel. This gesture has several meanings. Maika's vulnerability and openness after Baji's death, as well as Maika's sincerity towards Kazutora.

I can also say that the outstretched arms of the angel refer to Jesus Christ.

Jesus and Judas. Mikey and Kazutora.

We all know about the betrayal of Jesus by Judas, and this analogy can be seen in the relationship between Kazutora and Mikey.

Judas followed Jesus. Kazutora followed Mikey.

Judas sins before Jesus, he sells him. But later he understands the mistake, and atones for guilt through death.

Kazutora kills Mikey's brother and injures Baji (this is somewhat of a betrayal, although not intentional). Then he takes responsibility for staying with Baji's body, and ends up in prison again.

Jesus forgives Judas. Mikey forgives Kazutora.

Judah means: “Praise be to the Lord,” “he praises the Lord.”

Jesus means, "God saves."

Kazutora admires and respects Mikey, even when he wants to kill (according to the character book).

Mikey saving Kazutora from a tough father, from former "friends", from the Black Dragon, from a cruel world. After all, it was when Mikey came to his aid and extended his hand to him that Kazutora slowly opened up to his friends.

I think if Kazutora and Mikey talked in a normal setting, Bloody Halloween wouldn't have happened. This thought always makes me sad, because they love each other. (I'm sure they each blame themselves for Baji's death.)

Outcome.

From the start, Kisaki's goal was to make Mikey more susceptible to his manipulations, and he succeeded. Because of the death of Baji, Mikey "loses his head." This is seen in the Christmas Battle when Mikey starts raving about Baji and Shin. The death of a childhood friend unsettled Mikey, thereby making him as vulnerable as a lost child. However, he forgives Kazutora and tries to be strong for his friends. Kazutora, on the other hand, discards his blind hatred and follows the path of correction.

I admire how Wakui-san intertwines different cultures in his creation.

P.s. In fact, there are more references to Jesus in the form of Mikey. I'm going to write about all the religious (Shinto, Christianity, Buddhism) and cultural references in Tokyo Rengers.

[raisinchallah]

speaking of b5.. something ive always found strange is when sci fi engages with religion and prophecy theres both this strange need for like alien religions to be like “real” to non believers and like the external validation makes it acceptable to portray in worlds that are often extremely atheistic like their holy texts must contain prophecies that actually come true their mythological figures are people we can meet sometimes you can even visit an alien afterlife but also none of this would make like a random non believer ever join this alien religion either and i think its the most baffling in babylon 5 because its approach to human religion is actually waaay more nuanced than anything else heavily influenced by star trek but its trapped the alien religions in this weird place where they are like full of prophecy and also the way the shadows and vorlons are essentially a type of creation myth but its like these concepts arent often like a jumping off point for something more metaphorical or non literal which i guess comes back to the fact that most of this stuff really is just like i guess how to get culturally christian atheists to feel like these concepts are real and valid and also make sense to them but not necessarily encompassing the full breadth of like actual religion i do think ds9 handles it for the most part in the best way ive seen in a sci fi tv show tho they do feel the need to i guess validate the bajorans beliefs for non believers by having us meet the wormhole aliens it does lean pretty far away from like a direct literal interpretation and the wormhole aliens themselves are pretty interesting and defy a clear singular explanation and their understanding of time and perception of the world is all very cool and the way they also portray a full breadth of bajoran characters religious beliefs and so on but i do feel like it falters when they gotta have like alien magic leading to the conception of sisko or the pah wraiths and so on things that become very literal and very black and white and also well just feel like u gotta make things more digestible for people who only understand religion thru american christianity by peppering in stuff that feels just directly taken from that with the pah wraiths feeling like weirdass anti christ things and again why must sisko be made from space moses to space jesus ok thank you for taking the time <3

[an-unlikely-duo]

@rk-stateoftheart​ walked in on a naked Gavin

Your muse walks in on my muse undressed. Send me 😳 for my muse’s reaction. (add + reverse if you want my muse to walk in on yours)

Detective Reed did not often take advantage of the precincts showers but today was such a day. He had chased a suspect through a landfill and was smelling accordingly. The thought of the slimy and disgusting things he had to crawl through made him retch. But they had caught him. Fucking android, really thought a human wouldn’t chase him through the filth. Pah, nothing would ever stop Gavin from chasing a murder suspect.

He just finished undressing and closed the locker door where he kept soap, spare clothes and towels. And when he did he noticed the RK900 standing there. Gavin couldn’t help but flinch, he had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard his partner approaching. “Jesus-fucking-christ, tin can!” he shouted and clasped a hand over his chest “Do you want to give me a heart attack? How long have you been creeping on me anyway? Do you want a piece of my dick so badly or what?” of course he thought attack was the best defense, just don’t show a weakness.

The android probably wanted to read off some statistics or whatever and couldn’t wait until he finished showering. Or so Gavin thought. He didn’t even bother covering himself up, he was confident in his looks and he wouldn’t hide before anyone, especially not a machine. Maybe... he even wanted to show off?

[dcbutinamrev]

Duty and Inclination as classic vines (Sorry, I had to!)

Hamilton: AH!

Lafayette: AH! Stop! You could have made me drop my croissant!

Tilghman: And they were roommates.

Meade: Oh my God, they were roommates!

Laurens: He just dropped in and just...smack the lip whoop-pah! Jumped down and braaa!

Hamilton: Hurricane Katrina! More like hurricane tortillas!

Harrison: Do you ever like wake up and do not like do something and you’re just like what the fuck is going on?

Lafayette: Road work ahead? Uh, yeah. I sure hope it does!

Laurens: We all die. You either kill yourself or get killed. *Random dancing* What you goin’ do? What you goin’ do?

Meade: If you wanna play baseball, you gotta be the baseball

Meade: Come to Del Taco! They got a new thing called “Fre sh a voca do!”

Hamilton: I thought you were bae! Turns out your just fam

Laurens: Bro!

Hamilton: *Walks away*

*Tilghman playing the piano*

Meade: SAIL!

Harrison: When there’s too much drama at school, all you gotta do is, walk away-a-a-a

Meade: *throws frisbee*

Tilghman: What the fuck Richard

Laurens: Hey, I’m gay

Lafayette: I thought you were American?

Hamilton: Did you wash the dishes?

Laurens: I thought you wanted to do that?

Hamilton: *laughs* You were wrong

Tilghman: There’s only one thing worse than a rapist. Boom.

Meade: A child

Lafayette: Dad look, it’s the goodkush

Washington: This is the dollar store how good can it be?

Hanilton: How do you know what’s good for me?!

Washington: That’s my opinion!

Hamilton: I love you bitch! *points at Laurens and Eliza*

Eliza: Oh my God

Hamilton: I ain’t never gonna stop loving you... bitch!

Lee: So basically um...what I was thinking was—

Laurens: *punches Lee*

Lee: Ah, fuck. I’ve can’t believe you’ve done this!

Laurens: *weirdly walking down the hall*

H. Laurens: *sighs with disappointment*

Lee: Stop saying I look like Chicken Little. He’s dumb and he’s a coward. And I’m NOT a coward!

Laurens: It’s summer. I got my hat on backwards and it’s time to fucking party- *hits head on banister*

Tilghman: *sleeping*

Meade: *pours water on Tilghman*

Tilghman: Hello?

Tilghman: Hey, you want some.

Hamilton: This bitch empty! YEET!

Lafayette: *fires gun*

Hamilton: This is why Mom doesn’t fucking love you!

Continental Army at the Redcoats: Look at all those chickens!

Hamilton: Hi, are you the owner?

Laurens: With a lonely heart!

*Hamilton walks away*

Laurens: Ooh, I like your accent where you from?

Lafayette: I’m librarian

Laurens: Oh, my bad. *whispers* I like your accent, where you from?

Laurens: So you hangin’ out with Eliza yesterday

Hamilton: Laurens it’s not what you think!

Laurens: I won’t hesitate bitch!

Lafayette: *at Laurens and Hamilton* Two bros chillin’ in the hot tub! Five feet apart cause they’re not gay!

Laurens: *being depressed while on parole as prisoner of war* Hey, how you doin’? Well, I’m doin’ just fine I lied, I’m dying inside.

Meade: Mother trucker dude! That hurt like a butt cheek on a stick!

Harrison: Watch your profanity!

Laurens: I’m disgusted. I’m revolted. I dedicate my whole entire life to our Lord Savior Jesus Christ and this is the thanks I get?!

Washington: Okay hey, what’s that thing you like to do all the time again?

Hamilton: It’s called...online banking!

André*to Hamilton*: You have a beautiful smile.

Hamilton: Thank you. You’re not that handsome.

André: Wow. Thanks!

(And that’s all! Might make a pt. 2! This book has been my obsession for the past few weeks and I love “Duty and Inclination” by Rebecca DuPont so freaking much! Would highly recommend!!)

[autisticburnham]

Shadows and Symbols

Ezri my beloved

God, she's terrified that she'll be alone

I'd love to see Ezri and Adira together

I love @trillscienceofficer's theory that Dax has been such a problem for the Symbiosis Commison that they deliberately let Ezri flounder

Why did Martok permit these idiots on his ship?

Klingons must have good immune systems if they're constantly mixing blood like this

Bajorans have been winning fights they can't win for ages, Ross

You don't even believe in Sto'vokor, Quark

Damar, aren't you married?

Odo, you're a mall cop, you aren't qualified to join Kira

I know Benjamin always gets like this when the Prophets set him on a path, but sir, please accommodate Joseph, you know he's in poor health

The height of romance: trading trashy romance novels

Have you ever met Kira, Ross?

Martok, Miles is the only one here as a friend

You didn't deserve any apology at all, Quark

Jesus christ, I hate this

Is this doctor Damar?

Why do the Prophets fucking hate Jake so much?

The Energy Kira/Cretak have...

That comic with "They were both bottoms!" But they're both tops

Did that Pah-Wraith just die?

I think we may want to go a bit faster than impulse at this point

The bitch herself

I'm so sad Julian's going to be intolerable this season, but at least he's better than Quark. 6/10

[have-some-gotdamn-faith]

Absolutely! Thank you @breona2002 for sending this in! Hope you like it!

--  --  --  --

Javier remembers - achingly so - how long it’s been since he’s seen you, the thought coming unbidden on one fitful, restless night. Cracks in the scorched wood of the dying campfire still held fighting embers, and he couldn’t help but wonder, if they were roaring like they were a few hours earlier, how delicately the light would kiss your face.

The band - no, less than that - of mercenaries he’d found himself falling in with these past few months twisted and grunted in their bedrolls, and the corners of his lips were pushed hard, downward. The soles of Javier’s boots scraped and crunched pebbles into the packed earth beneath him, and the hollow ache in the middle of his chest grew as Javier distanced himself from them.

They weren’t family. They weren’t his gang. They weren’t her.

What weighed worse on his mind was that he knew where you’d landed, after flying the coop. You’d seen the fissures and cracks in the foundations long before the Van der Linde gang had crumbled and, in failing to persuade Javier to leave with you, you’d cut your losses and ran. Javier snorted derisively; part of him hated you for leaving family - pah! family - and part of him hated that he wished he’d listened.

Fleeing further west, you wanted nothing but distance - distance from the fallout, distance from the deep cut of those betrayed eyes after seeing you taking sides against Dutch. Arthur had helped you squirrel things away, but you had to make one last attempt to pull Javier away. He wouldn’t budge, even if he did see the inevitable. So you left.

Here, beneath this velvet, twinkling sky, that nostalgic pull to look back and see you and everyone else rose up like bony, phantom fingers to curl around Javier’s throat. The need to see you grew stronger each time he shoved it back down, no matter what he did. Boaz puttered and shook his mane as Javier mounted him, bed roll and knapsack in hand. The horse gave a sidelong look back to his rider, and a gentle hand came down to pat at his neck.

A gentle click of the tongue and nudge of boot heels, and the pair were off into the night.

Inky darkness gave way to the sun’s gradual rise, drowning the stars with gentle blue and splashes of pink and orange across light puffs of clouds. Fingers of light flirted with the slivers of space left by closed curtains, gently teasing across the furnishings of your modest cabin. The sunlight was almost mocking - you hadn’t slept a wink.

Sleep? Hah! What a fanciful thought - a journal lay derelict, and old photographs littered the table and floor around it. Though it had been a handful of years, there were nights where your departure stung fresh, you couldn’t help but look through bittersweet memories. You ran shaky fingers through mussed hair, wiping away the snail trails of tears from your cheeks, when you heard the hooves outside.

You scrambled to your feet, reaching for the shotgun resting beside your front door.

Outside, Javier brought Boaz to a halt, not yet dismounting as he fought with indecision. He was here. She was here. Why couldn’t he bring himself to walk right up to that door and summon an audience? Bile bubbled dangerously under the surface, old wounds whispering to his memory to stoke pain that felt as though it bordered on ancient.

Reluctantly, Javier swung his leg over and bid his legs to carry on - his nerves wouldn’t let him do it on his own. Weathered knuckles pulled taught as they prepared to rap against the door, only to find it flung open and him staring down an iron double-barrel. Javier stared wide-eyed, breath caught, and you both froze.

He was the first to break the silence; a sullen, bitter chuckle cracked through his throat - he made no move to disarm you.

“I suppose that’s fair,” he hummed. “Good to see you, too.”

“Ja-Javier?” you croaked, your bloodshot eyes straining against his illuminated silhouette. “Jesus Christ, is that you?”

“No, you had it right the first time, but I understand the confusion.”

The gun clattered hard against the wooden floor as you sputtered a laugh, pressing your palm against your face.

God, you missed him.

Without hesitation, you tumbled forward and wrapped your arms around Javier. You felt him tense under your embrace, but he didn’t shy away. You invited him in, capturing his hand and tugging. Conversation came surprisingly easy, but his posture was stiff and uncertain at the sudden rush of comfort inspired by good company.

He excused himself for a smoke, finding the tobacco easier to breathe and think in. But, Javier thought to himself, he was glad he’d made the trip.

[sintheyokai]

El Día para La Glotonería y La Lujuria

Oct 19th: Food play || Sounding || Rimming/Analingus

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Suitor: Arthur x Karmick (OC)

Dedicated to: @alloveroliver

Additional tags: Semi public sex, orgasm denial, quickie, AU! (in which everyone makes it out the door, so we’ll call it modern AU for now), this is just fluff with a bit of a quickie at the end and I’m convinced it’s my worst one.

*Karmick is my OC and the female presenting form of Gluttony

**Y’all this is for Day of the Dead! Y’all I did more research on this to refresh myself!! Although I’m ashamed that I had to because I myself am half Mexican.

***(Bold writing such as this are translations. The title translates to: The Day for Gluttony and Lust)

He stared at the brightly colored paper cutouts that hung on a string above him. So intricate, perhaps Vincent would learn to make some. He suddenly heard his name.

“Aaaaaarrrrrrthuuuuuuuur!”

He turned to see his girlfriend, Karmick, running over to him, carrying a large sack.

“There she is, the love of my life! Why the sack?”

“Oh this? It’s cempasuchitl!”

“Se- Sem what?”

Mick drooped her head, but perked back up almost instantly, “Cempasuchitl! Sem-pah-soolt-chee! Marigolds!”

“Ah! Well, you could’ve simply said marigolds, Mick.”

“Yeah, but they’re very specific! This holiday only uses this specific variation of marigold.”

Arthur nodded as they began to walk down the crowded street.

“What is this holiday, anyway? You never did tell me in your call.”

Mick bounced up and down, running ahead to turn around and walk backwards with a huge grin plastered on her face.

“This, Arthur, is el Día de los Muertos!”

He grew puzzled but smiled.

“Muerto… That sounds like what Leonardo has said, morte.”

“Well they mean similar things! ‘Morte’ is death, while ‘muerto’ is dead. ‘Los muertos’ is ‘the dead’. 'Día’ means 'day’ as I’m sure you assumed.”

“So… 'Day of the Dead’?” He asked. Mick nodded, and he looked around.

“Why is everyone celebrating? You would think a holiday of death would be mournful and calm.”

“Well, in my experience, it’s calmer at night. But to answer your real question: People celebrate it because it’s the day their passed loved ones get to visit from the Land of the Dead-that’s what the cempasuchitl’s for!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! Since they’re bright and pungent, they guide the souls to their ofrendas-their memorials.”

“And these… ofrendas, what are they decorated with?”

“Lots of things! The dead’s personal belongings, their favorite foods, candles, pictures, the like! C'mon, here’s a street with some.”

And sure enough, upon turning a corner, there was a small neighborhood, littered with the brightly colored petals leading to an assortment of equally bright ofrendas. He took a deep breath, various scents filling his nose.

“Smells good, right?” She asked, “Everyone on this street knows me, so I can stop by any house to grab some food in exchange for the cempasuchitl.”

“Then perhaps we can… try something new~”

“You’re implying something and I’m not sure I know what it is.”

Arthur put an arm around her shoulder as they walked down the street, “Well, a little angel told me about how you and him did this thing called food play last year on Hallow’s Eve. I like the idea, personally.”

Mick was silent for moment as they approached the first house and rang the doorbell.

“I’ll have to tell La Catrina why we’re late then. I always visit her-she’s kinda like the goddess of Día de los Muertos.”

Arthur smirked, “Fine by me!” he said, nipping at her neck enough to get her worked up as the door opened to reveal a rather short elderly woman.

“¡Ay, Karmick!”‘ she cried, pulling the demon into a near suffocating hug.

“¡Hola, Abuelita! Estoy aquí por la comida.” (Hello, Granny! I am here for the food.)

The old woman laughed and smacked Mick in the shoulder, “¡Gracias por ser honesto conmigo! Dios mío…” (Thank you for being honest with me! Jesus Christ…)

The woman walked in, with Mick close behind, but Arthur stayed outside. That is, until Mick turned around.

“Arthur, you can come inside! Abuelita says her door is always open to friends of mine!”

As he took a step forward, he heard an accent from the back, “Oh? Does he not speak Spanish?” Abuelita peeked her head out from the kitchen. Karmick shook her head.

“No. Es de Europa. Un gringo blanco.” (No. He is from Europe. A white foreigner.)

Abuelita snorted, “¡Callete, tú también una persona blanca!” (Be quiet, you are also a white person!)

Now it was Mick’s turn to snort, only much louder than Abuelita. The latter approached Arthur and hugged him.

“Hola, chico, my name is Rosita. But, as you’ve heard from Karmick, you may call me Abuelita.”

“Thank you, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Arthur. I’m one of Mick’s lovers.”

Rosita raised an eyebrow and turned to the demon, “¿Tienes más de uno?” (You have more than one?)

Karmick nodded before holding up two fingers. The old woman’s eyes widened.

“¿Dos?¿Quién es el segundo?” (Two? Who is the second?)

“Vincent, Abuelita. Te hablé de Vincent, él es un ángel.” (Vincent, Granny. I told you about Vincent, he is the angel.)

“Oh, the sunflower angel? And who is this then?” she glanced back at Arthur for a second before returning to Karmick. A mischievous smile crept onto her face, and Arthur suddenly feared for his safety.

“Es un hombre fácil coqueto.” she said. (A flirtatious manwhore.)

Rosita whipped around to look at him. He figured he was in trouble.

“What did I do?”

“I called you a manwhore. Don’t worry Abuelita, he’s changed since he met me.”

“I would hope so!” she cried, “Dios mío, come along now! You came to pick up food.” the trio made their way to the kitchen, “I assume you have the petals? I’m running low again this year- I think your sibling has been taking them.”

“Indi es el pecado de la codicia, Abuelita, tú sabes esto.” (Indi is the sin of Greed, Granny, you know this.)

“Sí, pero ojalá tuvieran algo de moderación.” (Yes, but I wish they had some restraint.)

A wave of different scents hit Arthur as he entered the small kitchen, both savory and sweet.

“You’ve never tried any verdadera cocina mexicana, have you?” Rosita asked. Arthur desperately wanted to answer, but couldn’t find the words to answer.

“No, he hasn’t. You don’t get true Mexican cuisine in America and Europe, Abuelita.” Karmick smirked. Rosita pulled out a basket. It smelled amazing.

“Hay tres pasteles de tres leches, empanadas, churros, pan de muertos, tamales, y calaveras. Y…” (There is three milk cake, empanadas, churros, bread of the dead, tamales, **sugar skulls, and…)

She discreetly put something in Karmick’s hand. She peeked for but a second before going red.

“Abuelita no.”

“Abuelita sí. Tomarlo. Necesitarlo.” she pushed Karmick over to Arthur, then proceeded to shove them out the house, “Now go! Go and have fun, you two!”

Now outside, the demon found herself being dragged off by the author to a back alley a few blocks away from Abuelita Rosita’s house. She nearly dropped the basket as Arthur pushed her up against the wall, immediately kissing her neck and moving her top and skirt out of the way.

“A-Arthur!” she moaned, managing to place down the treats, “C-Can’t you wait?”

“I think not, love~ We already have so much to use, I’d hate to wait and see what’s left- let’s use it now!”

With that, he opened the basket of goodies, pulling out a slice of tres leches cake and a spoon. Slowly, he took a bit of the fluffy, creamy icing and spread it over her rosy buds. As he took one into his mouth to suckle, he spread more down her stomach and over her wet slit.

“Ah, it’s so sweet, Mick! Your Abuelita must be a master at baking: the icing only makes me want you more~”

She flushed, moaning as he sucked her other bud clean before lapping up the cream further down. Down, down, down until he was breathing heavily on her warm folds

She didn’t have time to register his tongue sucking and licking furiously at her heat, as Arthur suddenly spread her lips and put a churro in between them. Karmick’s hand flew to her mouth as she gave a loud moan. But it was out of her almost as soon as it was in, and she whined.

“Arthuuuur~ Come o-ah!”

Arthur had shoved his tongue deep inside her, pumping it in and out, making sure to not miss a single speck of cream or a grain of sugar.

She was so close, she could barely stand the pleasure, she felt the pleasure grow, and grow, and just as it nearly tipped over the edge…

His tongue was out.

She cried out in frustration, not caring if anyone heard. She pouted at him, sticking out her bottom lip. Arthur chuckled.

“Now Mick, don’t give me that look!” he smirked, picking up the basket and standing over his girlfriend, “I’ll give you plenty more after our visit to your friend, La Catrina.”

She nodded in agreement, albeit still giving him a pouty lip. He handed her the container that held the now nearly naked slice of cake.

“Care to finish this off, dear?” he asked. She nodded, taking the whole thing with her hand and practically inhaling it. Chuckling, the duo exited the alley, making sure no one came and spotted them. As they did, Arthur felt the need to ask.

“What is my primary sin?”

Mick raised an eyebrow, but answered anyhow, “Well, it’s a tie between Greed and Lust. I’d kinda have to go with Lust.”

“And what, might I ask, is the spanish word for Lust?”

“La lujuria. Or simply lujuria.”

And how do you say Gluttony?” he then asked.

“La glotonería. That’s also a way of using the word Greed.”

“So we are Lujuria y Glotonería!”

Karmick laughed, and a they continued on their way as she said:

“Sí, Arthur, la lujuria y la glotonería están caminando por la calle.” (Yes, Arthur, lust and gluttony are walking down the street.)

[pro-bee]

Uuungh “Reunion” has so many feels

And I don’t have the attention anymore tonight to properly express my feelings about everything Ziva is going through.

But I’m so glad they don’t brush it under the rug -- even if it all comes in relation to work.

ETA: Apparently I did have the attention.

Like the fact that the first thing she does once she’s settled back in to DC, such as it (at the Navy Lodge! That’s a whole other topic) is to go see Gibbs, because he’s her dad and her safe haven and she wants to feel safe above all else. And make right what was broken between them. I am certain she never did this with Eli. She’s so soft and tentative with him, and he is as soft with her, but he’s also not letting her off the hook for the reason why she left him in the first place.

“Maybe you think I rigged it with explosives--” “No, I think it looks like a pretty nice chisel.” OH YOU TWO. 

“It is your blessing I came for!” Lol Ziva doesn’t give a shit about Vance, she wants daddy’s approval. 

Seriously though, wanting her dad’s blessing? Like, this is way more than just work. She wants his blessing to come back into the fold. She needs it. Oh, Ziva.

Dad tells her there’s someone else (other than Vance) she needs to make it right with. IT’S TONY HE KNOWS IT’S TONY BECAUSE TONY LOVES HER AND SHE LOVES TONY AND HE KNOWS IT.

Ziva’s whole attitude when she walks back into the office. She’s kinda going through the motions of their usual bickering, but the fire obviously isn’t there. Ziva is still hurting you guys.

“You’re damaged goods.” JESUS CHRIST LEON. Like, I get his point -- her position now is in a grey area because it technically no longer exists, so how is she supposed to work for NCIS? -- but the way he put it to her I am sure only reinforces what she is feeling about herself after her experience in Somalia. Like, Vance must know what happened to Ziva, right? Or at least have a good idea of how men like Saleem treated their women captives? So calling her “damaged goods” sounds pretty close to victim blaming, and basically it is really icky.

And you see that moment in Ziva too -- the second he says it, you can actually see how it stings her, her eyes tear up, she looks like she’s choking something back. He just confirmed her worst fears about herself. 

Also why Vance is such a fan of Eli I don’t know. (I mean I do know, we saw that episode about how they met but like... he’s gross.)

I have a lot of problems with Vance as director though.

Tony and Ziva’s gaze in the bullpen. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH.

THE PAH. Ziva zings him instinctually because this is what they do -- but then apologizes because maybe they aren’t back at that point yet, and if so then what comes across as teasing for them would be mean to others, and she doesn’t want to overstep her bounds. But obviously Tony loves it, because Ziva is back and this is part of why he missed her.

The Abby scene. Let’s just not. I cannot fucking believe Abby would be so cruel to Ziva, when she must know what happened to her and how she’s still fragile. ABBY OF ALL PEOPLE. But at least she backed down and hugged Ziva after? 

I don’t even want to know how Abby would fly off the handle at Ziva this season were she there since everyone thought she was DEAD.

Ziva watches Tony pee like A WIFE. THEY ARE SO DOMESTIC.

“You went in on your own, without adequate backup--” “-- And I was double-parked” “YES, I noticed!” THEY ARE SO FUCKING DOMESTIC. SO BICKER. SO LOVE.

Ziva’s whole apology. This is huge for her. She does not come to this easily. But not only does she apologize for doubting Tony, but she basically apologizes for choosing Michael over him. 

“I trusted my brother, I trusted Michael, I could not afford to trust you too.” THIS IS HUGE. This is Ziva basically admitting to her self-destructive tendencies. She is saying her brother betrayed her, she knew Michael was betraying her -- she couldn’t bear the thought that Tony might do so too, once her found the truth of her. It all comes down to the fact that Ziva never thinks she’s enough -- she wasn’t enough for her father, or Ari, or even Michael, so why should she be enough for Tony too? And Tony arguably means more to her than any of them, so basically she torpedoed him before he got the chance to hurt her.

“That you had my back. That you have always had my back.” AND HE ALWAYS WILL.

WEDDING VOWS Y’ALL.

Now, Ziva is going through stuff, and I wouldn’t want to rush her on anything. But GODDAMN THEY SHOULD KISS ALREADY. When she is emotionally ready of course.

Ziva and Tony rival Mulder and Scully for the non-platonic kisses other than on the mouth.

The way she kisses his cheek though -- so intimate, so gentle -- that’s not a coworker kiss. 

THE CONVERSATION IN THE BASEMENT

UGH MY FEELINGS

OK I’m stopping this here and doing the one of the Gibbs-Ziva scene in another post because FEELINGS