#Bible Totes

[myfemininedivine]

Can u give some good recs for sydcarmmy fics please!

oh BOY can I?????

i haven’t interacted much with the community so im unsure of the users but alas as I try:

temper, temper by malariamonsters (anything from them like what do u mean ….,,,, that was like the second coming of Christ fr like i think this was the first fic I read and BRROOOOOOOOOOO I felt the blood rushing to my skull UGHHH) (@songkangsbottomteethcirca2020 — this better be the correct @ or imma do something dangerous and delete my existence)

mouthful of petals by Galatria57 (I love this typa trope)

say yes to the mess by bioloyg (deck on deck like this fic can top me drop me bottom me spin me I can do a split for this dead ass) (@bioloyg)

gotta get up to get down by somethingdifferent (NEVER GIVE UP NEVER WHAT !!!!!! god I love)

simmer, melt, boil, fire by gingervalentine1 (golden goose edition like I want this but IN my coffin so I can resurrect myself and read it like not even death can part me from this ) (@monetbonet)

chapped lip weather by charmtion (their entire discography; I felt like screaming and drowning so I did both and like thank you for that, that was insanely criminal of you I love it) (@charmtion)

the fear has gripped me but here I go by willowcia (writing style has gripped me so here I go (choking))

like kasama by peachybunniebabie (this is the lost Bible I believe. Gave hallucinations and heart burn, let’s fucking GO) (@ethxocore)

hands full of plates by Thesuncameout (short story is I am in love with their style)

the wild, wild berry by Blissymbolics (classic obviously)

—

forgot to put my own fanfic 😀

Alchemy

—

thanks to the writers for these hits!

[peacelovefrog]

[lightsinadarkworld]

NEW!! I launched products over on Amazon!

[teshail]

(via "Amharic Bible Verse " Tote Bag for Sale by tes112)

[ofvenus]

Who's ready to tackle this week? Bible covers and bookmarks are great gift ideas. 🎁 💝 🧧 🎁 💝 🧧 🎁 #Bible #sweater #bookcovers #totes #wip #widn #crochetinspiration #slowfashion #floridagirl #crochetersofinstagram #etsyseller #handmade #floridaartist #etsyshop #foodie #travelers #amateurphotography #coffee #wine #knitting #jewelery #crochet #sustainablefashion #smallbusiness #yarn #boho #sunflowers #grannysquares #bookmarks #southernliving (at Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnM5VvouyKo/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[papirouge]

"Christianity believes that wives are property of meb"

How about you finally stop acting like Christianity was "concept" and ignore the fact that it does abide by a specific BOOK expliciting a bunch of commandments, rules and behavior followers of Christ are expected to uphold? because if you did, you'd realize not a single verse states that "wives are the property of their husbands".

The only verse that would come close to that statement is 1 Corinthians 7:4

The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife.

but even there, it establishes a reciprocity between the spouse ownership of each other's body, so since it doesn't confirm your bias you just ignore it.

[moongreenlight]

Mafia!Price is NOT your fucking aesthetic. A full comprehensive list as to why.

He cooka da pizza!

He goes to church every Sunday. A massive Roman Catholic Church downtown. Ancient building with floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows depicting the life and loss of Christ. Full two hour masses that he always wears a suit to. At first it starts as some last-ditch attempt to absolve him of his guilt, but then it became habit. 

And maybe it was his wife. Her parents were devout and just about keeled over when they found out their only daughter was married by a quick ceremony in the courthouse to a man they’d never met. Her mother was the worst, though it was to be expected. Likely didn’t know John had won his new bride when her husband didn’t have the funds left to pay off his debt. Fucking miracle she hadn’t yet done the math and realized his first child was born seven months later. He’d be persecuted to no end.

There was a target on his back since the wedding. Always put him in the hot seat on Sunday evening dinners while his wife was trying to wrangle their children into eating their vegetables. Drilled into him about work and life and why he always seemed too busy to prioritize “something worthwhile” in his life. Mother sets in on him like she’d been waiting for the opening all evening.

“So, John. Remind us what you do for work.” Accusatory. Glaring over her barely touched plate of roast at him.

“Contracting. Bit of this and that.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes, if only barely. 

“Hm. And what does that entail? Can’t keep you as busy as you swear you are.” She’s unabashed. Her husband doesn’t share the sentiment. He sighs into his glass of brandy and tries to catch her eye. 

“Don’t do much hands-on these days. Project management and bookkeeping for me now. Brought on a few guys to do the grunt. You remember from when we did your bathroom, I’m sure.” He doesn’t shy away from the challenge. Principled. 

“Boys would do well to have some structure. Bet they haven’t been in a church since they were baptized.” She ignores his parry and switches to what she really wants to talk about after looking over to her daughter who is all but force-feeding them florets of broccoli. Typical.

He finally wore down after a Christmas where the only gift he got from them was a deep brown leather-wrapped bible. Used. Split down the spine, dog-eared pages.  Like they’d stolen it from the shelf in the pew for the dolts who weren’t well-mannered enough to bring their own. 

From then, it had become a welcome escape from reality. Church in the morning. 8am service, because he was up before the sun anyway. Sipping coffee in the kitchen beforehand, pouring over a heavy binder with the title ‘family finance’ scrawled in his wife’s delicate handwriting across the front.

He could hear her wrestling with their two boys in the bathroom upstairs. Their indignant screeching clueing him in that he should probably get up and help, but he always tried to steal a few more moments to himself. Calm before the storm.

The boys have sour looks on their faces when they stomp down the stairs not five minutes later, though they’re nothing in comparison to their mother who’s only a few steps behind. They get the deep furrow in their brows from him, the bitter curl of their lips from her.��

“Glad you’re enjoying your slow start, John. Really.”

He should feel worse for not helping. Tries to lay her hackles back down by snapping the binder shut and pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. She barely pauses to accept it before pushing past to pack her purse. Four bibles, his ratty one, her perfectly white one with different colored sticky notes poking out the sides, and two smaller children's bibles that she’d shove in their laps for appearance sake. Snacks for the boys, and a flash of the handle of her small handgun- safetied and then shoved into the bottom of her tote.

“Should’ve shouted f’you needed help. Can’t hear a thing down here.” The boys snicker when he winks over at them. They’re outfitted in their Sunday best. Slacks with damp finger marks on the thighs from where she’d tried to smooth out wrinkles. Buttoned-down shirts that they were already tugging at the collars of. Hair gelled back, no doubt the reason for their griping earlier. 

She doesn’t find it nearly as funny as they do. Shoots him a nasty look over her shoulder before disappearing into the spare room to grab a pair of low heels. 

“We’re already late. If we have to sit in the back again, you’ll never hear the end of it.” It’s not an empty threat. They’d missed one service and some aunt had told her mother in passing. Took three months to get her to stop bringing it up.

“S’not even half seven. Takes fifteen minutes to get there.”

It’s supposed to mollify her, but it has the adverse effect. She looks ready to throw a shoe at him when she sits on the bottom stair to tug them on. He raises his hands in surrender.

“Easy.” 

Somehow all four of them make it to the car in one piece. He sends a message to Kyle before they leave telling him to save them a space toward the front to err on the side of caution.

[lovelytsunoda]

just like heaven // yuki tsunoda

summary: love is in the air at y/n’s cousins wedding, and it’s got yuki in a loving mood.

pairing: yuki tsunoda x female reader

warnings: 18+ smutty and romantic content :) sex in a library, semi-public sex, two fuckers who are so madly in love I’ve become jealous of my own writing, the library is full of bibles and religious text so does that mean this might be sacrilege? yuki may or may not have some sort of marriage related kink

the air smelled like roses and freshly cut grass, heavy with a feeling of love, and the hazy smoke coming from the fire pit at the head of the tent. a dance floor had been cleared out in the middle of the uneven grassy surface, a portable wooden floor laid out as a makeshift dance floor. it had clearly once been white, but had stained over the years.

yuki tsunoda sat at the groom's table, watching with a lovestruck gaze as his eyes found his girlfriend, who was dancing with her cousin in the middle of the floor. huey lewis and the news played from the bluetooth speaker in the corner, the bride circulating the room and speaking to relatives.

y/n and her cousin had been close once upon a time. they were only a year apart in age, and had both been babysat by their grandmother while their mothers worked. they fell out of touch a little as they got older, only seeing each other at major holidays, but when will had called y/n to announce that he had gotten engaged, y/n was over teh moon for him.

yuki thought she looked beautiful in the soft glow of the fairy lights, her red dress swirling around her thighs as she danced uninhibited, not worrying about how she appeared to the other wedding guests. her hair shone in the light, her smile radiant.

and yuki wondered if one day, perhaps he and y/n would be sharing a similar stage. except she would be wearing white, and they would have matching silver rings on their fingers.

as the song changed, yuki stepped away from teh table and towards the dancefloor, hoping to steal a moment with his lover as will scanned the tent for his wife.

"congratulations, will. give my best to claire as well, just in case i don't see her again before the evening ends." y/n said, giving her cousin a hug before he sauntered off to find claire.

yuki beamed at her, extending a hand. "may i have this dance, my fair maiden?"

"yes, you may." she smiled, wrapping her arms around yuki and tucking her body into his as they began to sway to the music.

in her heels, she was taller than him, in the same way that jason statham's wife towered over the actor. but yuki didn't mind. if anything, it made him swoon even more.

as they danced, his mind began to wander. what song would they have their first dance to? would it be that inxs song she liked? or would it be one direction, a callback to the girl who dreamed of her wedding but never thought it would come? what would they serve? a pasta bar, or a buffet line?

"whatcha' thinking about?" she hummed, forehead against his.

"us. you. forever." yuki sighed. "i want this to be us someday. all of it. the white dress, the speeches, the expensive food. surrounded by the people we love the most."

her heart softened, and she bit back a cry, feeling tears stinging the back of her eyes. weddings always did have a way of making her emotional.

"oh, yuki." she said softly, leaning in for a kiss. "i love you forever. when the time is right, and we can take the proper time to plan and to book a honeymoon. because you're it for me. all i want for the rest of my life. but i'm not in a rush."

"neither am i.” yuki smiled, kissing her knuckles. “I love you forever.”

the song ended, y/n easing back on her heels and wincing as she realized just how sore her feet were in her pale pink stilettos. she had prepared for this and packed a pair of thick-soled sandals in her tote bag, stowed gently underneath the grooms table.

back at the table, yuki helped her ease he sore feet out of their shoes, slipping a jacket around her shoulders as she slipped into her sandals. she kissed him on the cheek, wrapping the jacket tighter around her body as she rested her head on his shoulder.

it was hard not to feel giddy when surrounded by so much love. two years ago, she would have left the celebration feeling melancholia, tainted by the fear that she might never find her person. today, she hoped that she could hold on to the love she had, the feeling of safety and security that yuki brought her.

“you cold, love?” yuki asked, lips pressed against her forehead. “we can pop back inside the church for a moment to warm up if you want.”

“yeah, I need a minute of quiet, I think.” she agreed, kissing the underside of yukis jaw before reaching for her silver clutch purse.

yuki gently pulled her chair away from the table, taking her hand as she got to her feet. tucking his arm around her waist, he pulled her close as they ducked out of the white canvas party tent. she could feel the dewy grass on her feet, one hand holding her skirt away from the damp. her lovers hand dropped down her back, comfortingly running over her bum, and then her hip as they neared the low brick church building.

yn hadn’t been a church-goer in her youth, only attending for family functions, but she appreciated the generous plot of land that the religious institution rested on. it was a stunning view over the hill, peering into the entire valley below.

they slipped inside the church, y/n sighing contentedly as she gradually warmed to the inside temperature. yuki took her free hand, pulling her in for a kiss. she hummed against his lips, sighing against his body.

“come on, I want to show you something.” she laughed, practically dragging yuki behind her as she took off down the hallway. “I used to hide in here to get out of listening to sermons. especially when my cousins got baptized a few years ago, I got restless listening to the pastor talk so I went for a walk and stumbled upon this place.”

she tried the doorknob, delighted to find it unlocked as she pushed the door inwards. the door opened into a small library. the couple were surrounded by tall bookshelves filled with leather bound volumes of religious texts, the far wall filled with ornate stained glass windows, casting the wooden floor in varying colours as she sun started to fade from the sky.

“there are better books up top. there also used to be a rolling ladder in here but pastor frankie had to take it out after a choirboy fell off it and broke his arm trying to find a copy of miss chatterley's lover.”

"no shit." yuki chuckled, helping her out of the jacket draped over her shoulders. "this is quite the place."

"that it is." she laughed softly in return, reaching for the lapels of her lover's shirt. "come here."

still laughing, she pressed her lips to his, relaxing in his arms and letting herself fall into the kiss. she never had to be anything she wasn't with yuki. she trusted him more than she had ever trusted anybody else. he knew her inside and out, in mind and soul and in body. his lips were grounding against hers, pillowy soft and applying just the right amount of pressure against her own.

it was incredible how responsive she was to yuki's touch. she hadn't come in to the library with the intentions of having sex up against shelves of leather bound books, or sprawled out on the vintage wooden desk, yet as she sighed under his touch, she could feel her nerve endings crackling with life. she moaned into the kiss as his hand trailed up the slit in her dress to clutch at her thigh, and she was a goner. his lips trailed across her neck, his tongue darting out to kitten-lick at her pulse point and she felt her knees go weak.

"babe, in a church?"

yuki pulled away to look at her, his eyes soft and full of adoration. "you always said you wanted to be romanced in a library. i'm sure this isn't what you had in mind, but it's good enough for me. if you want it, of course."

she smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "don't stop now."

and he didn't. yuki backed her against the desk, pulling her legs up and around his waist. her sandals fell to the floor as his fingers fumbled clumsily with the zipper on the back of her dress. giggling softly, she pushed his hands away, pulling the stubborn zip down by herself before she guided his hands back towards her exposed breasts.

her thighs tingled with anticipation, and she could feel the wet spot on her lacy panties growing as yuki massaged her tender breasts, rolling her peaked nipples between his fingers, the pendant of her sliver necklace resting just above them.

"you're so beautiful." he whispered, scared that speaking any louder would ruin this magical moment they had created.

"you're not too bad yourself, handsome." she hummed, caressing his face.

she tilted her head up, kissing him again. harder this time, her tongue scraping against his lips, begging desperately for entrance as she pressed up against him, searching for friction to ease the ache between her thighs. it was awkward, given the seating arrangements in the library, but she managed to grind against his dress pants, one hand dropping from his neck to his cock as his lips parted enough to allow their tongues to touch.

she sighed breathily under his touch, yuki's hand gently caressing her bare thighs as he reached for her lacy white panties. gripping the edges of the table, she leveraged her weight to raise her hips, allowing her lover to peel the fabric away from her body. he slipped the panties into the pocket of his slacks before raising her knees and pressing kisses to her thighs.

"tell me what you want, my love. my tongue, my fingers, my cock. all of it is yours, just say the word." he rasped, running his thumb over her clit.

"that thing you do with your fingers." she hummed, canting her hips forward, trying to capture his slender fingers inside her dripping center. "you know the one."

"the one that makes you laugh, or the one that makes you scream?"

"both."

she gasped as his fingers slipped into her with little resistance, the driver scissoring both fingers, pushing up against her velvet-soft walls. she bit back a curse, tilting her head back and exposing her neck for him to kiss and suck at.

his lips were warm and soft as he peppered her skin with delicate, soft kisses, in contrast to the lightning-sharp way that he moved his fingers inside of her.

"fuck, that feels good." she breathed, digging her nails into his shoulders through the fabric of his dress shirt, breathing heavy as pants turned into moans.

the light from the stained glass window reflected over her skin, bathing her in the warm colors and contrasting shades created by the glass artwork. the sight took yuki's breath away, a part of him wondering if there was a way to capture that image and sear it into his brain forever. she looked positvely angelic, lips slightly parted, back arched in pleasure.

“that’s my girl. that’s my sexy fucking girl. are you going to come on my fingers, sweet girl?”

she gripped his arms, nodding furiously as she whined out a ‘yes’, grinding against his fingers as he pressed the heel of his hand against her clit.

“yuki, oh my god, shit.” she whined, burying her head in his neck.

his lips were soft against her hairline as he talked her through it, mumbling sweet nothings and dotting her sweaty skin with kisses as he finger-fucked her towards the edge.

“atta girl. I’ve got you, just breathe. my best girl. my perfect girl, coming so good for me.”

she sighed as she came, a breathy, whiny sound, fingers tightening around his biceps.

“you’re safe, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” yuki whispered, running a hand up and down her back. “you did so good, angel.”

she kissed him slowly, relishing in the feeling of his lips against hers. she smiled into the kiss, her hands exploring the expanse of muscle through his shirt.

her french-manicured nails found the buttons on his dress shirt, slowly popping them open. she kissed the warm skin on his chest as she went down, fingers moving towards the button on his pants.

“does my pretty baby want my dick?” yuki crooned, caressing her cheek as he looked down at her adoringly. “anything you want from me, just say the word.”

“babe, I always want your dick.” she smiled, taking him in her palm, stroking up and down his length. bathed in the light from the window, she thought he looked like a greek god.

she lined him up with her entrance, hiking both legs over his hips and allowing him to push himself inside of her. inch by inch, he slipped in slowly, his forehead resting against hers before he leaned in to kiss her, trading moans into each others mouths as he bottomed out.

he could die here and be happy, wrapped up in the woman he loved, her warm walls cushioning him on all sides. this overwhelming feeling of closeness. he started to move, thrusting slowly and interspersing the movements with swivels and grinds of the hips, rubbing against her soft, plushy walls, drawing every little whine and breath and pant from her lungs.

“oh god, baby, that’s incredible.” she tilted her hips forward, head rolling back as she tried to take him deeper.

one of her hands dropped to the table to support her body weight, the other tangling in yukis hair. she pulled gently, watching with pleasure as his eyes rolled back, a soft growl leaving his throat. in response, he thrusted harder, deeper.

“that’s my sweet girl. looking so fucking pretty with my rock-hard dick buried inside you. all fucking mine to worship. you know what I think about when I get off? our future. domestic things. picking out silverware, buying our forever house. you in a white dress, a big fucking diamond on your finger. you’re it for me.”

he was thrusting quicker now, pulling out almost halfway before slamming back in again, his hands gripping her thighs so tightly she worried there might be bruises. his eyes weee trained on her chest, captivated by the way her breasts bounced from the force.

“yes, yes.” she moaned, back arched as she kissed his neck, leaving a series of small hickeys in her wake. “fuck, I want everything with you, too.”

“yeah, you want me to make you my pretty perfect wife?”

“god, yes.” she was certain she was dripping onto the table, the room filled with laboured breathing and the wet sounds of yukis cock splitting her in half. “fuck, baby, I love you so much.”

the coil in her stomach was wound tighter than a wire, and she could feel that she was on the edge. any second now, she’d snap.

“fill me up.” she whined. “fucking make me yours.”

“want you to come first.” he rasped, dropping his hand to her sensitive clit. “love you so much, sweet girl. just let me make you feel so so good, okay?”

she kissed him again, fingers in his hair, then on his shoulders, searching for purchase as she hid her face in his broad chest. she always got shy when her orgasms approached. yuki found it endearing, and soft.

“I’ve got you pretty girl. come for me. just let go, make a pretty little mess on my dick.”

she came with a loud moan, feeling her legs go slack in her lovers grip as she rested all of her weight on him, her head nestled comfortably between shoulder and neck, his soft fingertips trailing up and down her thighs, his gentle voice reminding her to breathe through it.

“fuck, baby, I love you so much. I love you. I love you.” he repeated it like a chant as he reached his own climax, stuttering his words as he spilled inside her. “god, you’re so good to me.”

after a small moment to catch their breaths, yuki gently pulled out. she whined at the loss of contact, reading her whine for a contented sigh when yuki pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, gentle hands helping her readjust her dress.

“babe, I think I’m dripping on the table.” she admitted, red-faced and shy. “what did you do with my underwear?”

yuki grinned roguishly, dramatically producing the offending pair of panties from his pockets. “kept them nice and safe for you.”

“sure you did.” she laughed easing herself off the table, deliberately not looking at the mess she’d left behind.

while she redressed, yuki searched the pockets of his suit jacket for his red pocket square, u folding it and using the thin, expensive fabric to clean all evidence of their tryst off the hardwood.

“yuki, come on! not the pocket square!” she laughed, using her fingers to comb through her hair. “you’re so gross.”

“what else was I supposed to use?” he laughed, putting the square in his pocket and slipping the jacket over his shoulders. he pulled her in for a soft kiss, hands gently caressing her curves. “come on, let’s get back to the party.”

the pair stepped out of the library, linked arm in arm, content and sated as they turned to walk out of the church, and found themselves bumping headfirst into will and claire. judging by the lipstick stain on wills collar, and the flushed red of claire’s face, the happy couple had just snuck away to do the same.

“we never speak of this again.” will groaned, averting his eyes. “ever!”

[ohtheewhorer]

Imagine you’re Dale “Longlegs” Kobble’s Chubby!Virgin!FWB whom he slowly corrupts (3.3k words)

So here’s what I’m thinking—follow me on this…

Warnings: Graphic Description, Shameless Smut, little bit of fluff, Desperate Sex, Passionate Sex Loss of Virginity w/ Blood, if you squint incubus!Dale, Religious Guilt, Blasphemy, stalker longlegs, yandere longlegs, Horny Reader, Loss of Innocence, Dark themes, Chubby Reader

A/N: I wrote a lot more than I expected as I always do 😩. Please enjoy my long ass blurb/fic about this hot evil old man. You can also read my fic on ao3 (I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE IMAGES USED)

You’re the preacher’s daughter who just wants some freedom from your overbearing, shotgun-toting, bible-wielding father. You’re innocent in appearance but if people really got to know you they’d know that you’re really a mischievous, horny little minx with a yearning for something dangerous; anything opposite to your sheltered life.

Then, one day, you run into Dale while visiting the local hardware store with your father. At first, you’re unnerved by his presence. After all, Dale is…unique-looking to say the least; his graying thin long hair, his filler plumped lips and face with skin that has an unnatural blotchy alabaster coloring to it which made him appear quite ghoulish yet somehow ethereal. But then there are those intense blue eyes of his that seemed to sparkle with joy the moment you entered his line of sight.

Dale made the bold move to approach you knowing your Paw was only a few distances away—something no man ever had the guts of doing in this small town—only to simply congratulate you on your upcoming 20-something birthday. You shrunk under his towering stature, eyes darting anxiously around in search of your dad. You weren’t sure whether you should be afraid of the fact that—regardless of it being a small town—how did some random stranger know your birthday? Or maybe you should be afraid for him considering he could very well be a victim of your father’s wrath. And all because the strange man dared to do the kind gesture of wishing the preacher’s precious girl an early birthday.

You even pitied the man enough to throw many discreet hints that he needed to back the fuck away from you before it got ugly. But the ever eccentric and bizarre Dale didn’t take any hints and ended up singing to you an old classic rock song that your worldly uncle would probably be able to identify.

Your father came around the corner and he had questioned Dale of his intentions while speaking to you, very well aware that his pretty princess had many suitors who vied for your hand in marriage. And you knew your father well enough to read his judging eyes as they scanned Dale’s entire presentation, scowling that a man like him would ever think he might have a chance regardless of if Dale ever had the thought to pursue you.

And Dale, oh, Dale…he’d speak broken sentences and barely audible words, euphemisms and epithets, riddles and rhyme and your increasingly frustrated father would curse him in biblical verses and claim that he’d spoken the ‘devil’s tongue’. And the moment your Paw calls out the lanky male as a ‘satanist’ instead of disproving his claim—preventing any potential small town witch hunt—Dale, instead, sends him a botched-lipped cheshire cat grin ending the interaction with a chilling line, “Your ignorance won't save you when the shadows you've denied finally come to claim you."

Goosebumps arise on your supple skin, staring up at the man with both fear and admiration. No one’s ever stood up to your father that way. Everyone’s always having to walk on eggshells around him, not wanting to be seen as a delinquent in the eyes of the lord’s appointed servant. But Dale has done it with that high-pitched playful lilt in his tone and that bright smile on his face. His courage alone was enough to spark your interest in him. He was dangerous and you wanted nothing more than to experience him.

And sure you could find plenty of pretty boys and bad boys in town that would happily sneak around with you and give you a taste of the wild side that you so craved. But you didn’t want just “a taste” nor did you wish to hide your deeds. You want to be very loud and proud with your degeneracy.

And so you made the effort to see him again, going to the hardware store within the next few days because it’s all you knew of him. You’d gone at least 5 times already, at varying times in the day; all alone, too, much to your father’s chagrin. Just when you planned to give up on your 6th visit, while turning to leave you could hear the familiar flowery voice from behind you that has you swiveling in his direction in elation.

He’d found you and so the rest was history. It didn’t take long after to build an intense bond with him that teetered the line of being sexual at times, especially once you got past the stage of learning each other’s name. He doesn’t usually leave his shabby house much so it made sense that you’ve not seen him around before. Though by his own horrifying admission he’d been observing (stalking) you for a while now and had already known about you. You’re just grateful to have met him; a man unafraid to push boundaries.

With him, you didn’t have to feel guilty for wanting to do things beyond what is appropriate within your conservative community. For one, you got to hold his hand that’s a lot more than you’ve ever done even while attending college. And when you asked to go even further like hugging…he lets you hug all over him (though mostly for his own selfish reasons since he’s as touch-starved as you). To most outsiders, doing these things aren’t much of a big deal but to you, a beginner hedonist, it meant everything. You want fun and Dale promised you this with every interaction; upping the ‘depravity’ as you went.

But then one day, Dale suggests to you that he could show you fun beyond the tantalizing ‘indirect kisses’ via sharing lollipops or the occasional lap sitting with added knee bounces for effect.

“You want to take my virginity…on my birthday…as a gift to me?” You ask incredulously. It was scummy of him to even think such a thing would ever be considered a gift. And from a man like him no less; much too old for you and quite terrifying to look at from certain angles. And yet…you felt a gush of your slick soak your panties. You needed therapy. You need to find God again. This is sick!

But it’s sooo damn tempting.

“I only want to open your mind to many great pleasures, Angel. Is that not what you told me you’ve been seeking?” Dale says, reaching a hand over the console of his car to rub one of your nylon-clad voluptuous thighs. “Be a good girl for me, just two more days… and it’ll be an even special day for the birthday girl.”

You tense a little, feeling his hand traveling higher up your thigh. “Do you think I’m ready?”

“That’s for you to decide, silly.” He giggles.

“I think I’m ready. I-I’m ready.” You repeat, giving him a struggling smile that falters when your breath hitches again. His hand is kneading the meat of your thigh.

“Oh, I’d bet these legs around my head would feel like just the loveliest hug.” He sighs dreamily.

You tilt your head in confusion. “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to hurt you like that.”

He laughs some more, running a calloused hand down your cheek and admiring its youthful elasticity. “You could never hurt me, angel. But I get the impression you have no idea what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

“I don’t think I do. I’m sorry,” You say, batting your long lashes and flashing your alluring doe eyes up at him. “Could you show me what you mean? I’d really like to know, pretty please.”

“In due time, love. You’ll have to first show me you can be a good girl when I ask you to be.”

“How do I do that?” You nudge your face deeper into his open palm, sliding his fingers over the edges of your jaw until they’re close enough to your pouty lips. Using your tongue you drag one long nimble digit into your mouth, suckling lightly on the tip. He has an earthy taste to him that you quickly grow addicted to.

Dale pulls his finger from your lips, webs of saliva connecting your lips to it. He smiles, wagging his finger side to side. “Tsk, Tsk. That was very naughty, angel. Being a good girl means you’ll have to listen to the sky father’s rules again. That means no premarital activities. You’re not allowed to touch yourself either. Wouldn’t want you to be a sinner before the big day? I’ll give you a pass for today although with some limitations. But then it’s 2 days of being on the nice list, missy. You’ve got 3 strikes if you lose them…you’ll be punished. And I beg you not to get on the naughty list or I won’t be making you sing pretty for me like the sweet birdie you are.”

“Why? Why should I go through all that trouble for you?” You hate having to bottle up your desires again when the excitement’s only just begun.

“Because it’ll make your blood much more pure for the sacrificial ceremony,” He jokes, then frowns when you place his hands away from you, turning in your seat so you’re not facing him. Dale leans into your ear, whispering. “You’ll know what real freedom is once you’ve had a taste of it and then it’s ripped from you like an anticipated treat stolen right out of a dog’s mouth. And if you cower from the dark side, back to your sheltered life, you’ll always feel as if you’re on the brink of going…FERAL!” His hand slaps against the window beside your face making you jolt up and stare back at him in terror. Your chest rises and falls, hyperventilating as he stares intensely into your eyes, his face is only a few inches from yours.

“So…I give myself to you and I’ll be free?” You question timidly. “Like you?”

Though he wears a big crooked smile, his eyes betray him as a tear runs down one plump cheek. “Why, of course, angel. You’ll be free…like me.”

You cup his cheeks, swiping your thumbs over the lumpy skin before placing your mouth over his. Your first real kiss! With a man you knew, at most, for a week. It’s a tender yet short kiss as you relish in the feeling while you can. His lips are slightly chapped and uneven in texture yet you moan into it because it felt so right. You pull away before you get too carried away and do something devilishly sensual like sticking your tongue down his throat.

You anxiously gauge his reaction. Is this strike one?

His eyelids slowly flutter open before looking back into your eyes again. He hasn’t experienced this kind of softness in forever. People are usually afraid of him and he’s used to being alone but having such a young beauty as yourself having just an inkling of interest in him blows his mind farther than any fucked up shit he’s seen and/or done.

But Dale’s just not capable of understanding these intense feelings he has for you and it makes him feel as if he’s losing the little control he has in his life. So he’s always jumping to the default of trying to creep you out as some sort of power move he possesses; proud that he can make people fear him by his actions aside from just his bizarre appearance. So now he’s just running his thick wet tongue along his puffy lips after your shared kiss, playing up the perverted gesture which should’ve been enough to make your skin crawl but you always match his freak.

Leaning over the console to invade his space once again, you touch the tip of his tongue faintly against yours just before he darts it back into his mouth. And if he were to give you a strike for that wicked move, it’d be so worth it.

Dale’s such a little shit, though, because he’d for sure make you watch some vintage porn that he owns and it’s not at all vanilla. It’s rough, dirty, pearl-clutching, thigh-clenching stuff. Choking, spitting, biting, bondage… it’s all so violent to a wide-eyed beginner as yourself. Your heart’s pounding a mile a minute, squeezing Dale’s arm and willing yourself not to look away or he’d consider it a strike.

And the next two days are even worse with little devil Dale making sure he tortures you through the agonizing march of time. He’d refrain from touching you at all, avoiding you like the plague. You’d feel like you’re going crazy like he’s some form of drug to you because all you can think of is him. Even while you sleep at night it’s as if his presence lingers around you. Now you’re beginning to understand why your father says that lust is a poison to a god-fearing mind. You’re convinced that Dale has sunken his gnarly sharp teeth into you, infecting you with his toxic venom so that you’ll never come out the same again.

When your birthday finally arrives, Dale knows for sure that you’ve officially surrendered yourself to him. He could tell it in the way you waited on his words hand and foot, wanting to follow whatever it is he asked of you with no question. He could make you up and break you down into the perfect little subservient minion of the dark side and you’d gladly sign away your life. It would be that easy.

He’ll take you to his special place, down in his dimly-lit basement, where there’s no chance of anyone hearing you scream. He’d start by making you cum with his mouth first just as he’d promised and you’re seeing fucking stars! The man feeds on you like he’s been starved for centuries. He didn’t even have the decency to pull off your cute lacy pink thong you’d carefully selected at some lingerie store for him to marvel at. He just flips up your pleated skirt, pushes your panties to the side and just digs in with an eager mouth and even eager tongue. Those same puffy lips you’d kissed the other day now sucking and making out with your own puffy lips while he gets his wish of you wrapping your pillowy thighs around him.

You’d offer to get on your knees and suck his cock the way you’d seen in one of his films but he’s too wired, wanting to fuck you right then and there on his dingy worn couch.

When he pushes into you, it’s as if you’re being split in two; surprising because, based on what you saw in those nudie films, Dale’s isn’t as big as those ones. It’s actually quite short, deliciously veiny with a hook. Girthy, too. As thick as coke can. Dale Kobble proves the theory of girth over length by a long shot.

He’s positioned you on your back to where your legs are pressed deep into your shoulders and now-exposed chest since Dale, in his impatience, lifted your shirt over your ample breasts and pulling them out of the cups of your bra to watch them jiggle and knock against one another other with each drive of his hips.

This man has zero patience for anything actually. He’d just push into your tight heat in one fell swoop and you’d gasp out loud, feeling the faint tearing within you. He’d pull himself out a little to marvel at the blood and cream coating his dick, gathering some on his finger to paint your sweet lips. And you’d flick your tongue between the spaces of his fingers wanting to drink in the essence and you feel so fucking powerful.

Once he begins his pace, it’s erractic, unrhythmic, desperate, and awkward but you fucking love it so much that it has you whimpering and clawing at his back. You don’t care how little experience he has, you never want him apart from you.

Dale would want to be as close to you as he could, falling over your masterpiece of a body with his full weight. He’s penetrating DEEP. He wants to give you all that dick no matter if it isn’t much. He’s all sweaty, his belly sticking to yours from all the worked up perspiration. You enjoy the feeling of his softness against yours, appreciating his torso (when you could at least) for the ‘dad bod’ built that it was.

He’s hoarsely gasping, whispering the dirty filth in your ear, caging you between his arms. You can’t push him away even if you tried but you’d be crazy to ever want to, squeezing your legs around his body in a death grip.

He’ll let his face fall in between the valley of your breasts, inhaling you. He doesn’t care to breathe anything else so to suffocate this way, would be an honor. High-pitched sobs and breathless whispers against your skin indicates to you that it’s been so long for him since he’s felt a warm body against his own. The more he thinks about how lucky he is to fuck such a tight, greedy cunt as yours it make him turn into an inconsolable mess; crying, spitting, and kissing all over you.

You’re no better, whining and mewling with reckless abandon. Your hands are anywhere clawing at his boringly pastel colored shirt, running your hands up his shirt to sink your nails into the sides of his ribs until you're settling on his long hair. With every bruising thrust, you tug hard on his hair earning pathetic “unh”’s and “ah”’s from him.

Whenever either of you muster up the strength to pull away from each other for just a few centimeters, you’d sloppily crash your lips together, swapping spit or devouring each other’s tongues then swallowing down your moans from each other’s mouths like passionate lovers who’ve known each other for years.

Dale feels like just as much of a virgin as you with how much you’ve reduced him to a sniveling lovestruck fool. He can already sense his approaching climax, not wanting to blow his load before you get a chance to experience bliss.

He’ll bring a finger to your clit, specifically the finger that dons that fucking ring so you could feel the cool metal against your sensitive button. And obviously, he won’t be nice about it, rubbing harsh, rapid circles on it until you fall apart. He’s not stopping until you’re sobbing—begging…you’re absolutely delirious. Your back arches off the couch cushions, eyes rolling into the back of your skull like it’s an exorcism. You can hardly breathe. This is exactly why orgasms are called ‘little deaths’ because you must’ve died and now you’re reborn again offering yourself to the soulless world.

Before you could protest he spills his sticky, hot cum inside of you. Your hands would instinctively try to push away but your legs keep him there, wanting every last fucking drop of Dale’s seed. The man’s got some big kahunas so you’re going to overflow with his essence.

And without a doubt, for all the money in the bank, Dale will scream “I love you” as he cums until he’s just whispering it while shuddering against you.

After it all, you’ll both lay together in an entanglement of limbs, cuddling in the afterglow while seesawing between either cleaning up or going for another round. Though considering you could feel him stirring up inside you again, you think it’ll definitely be the latter.

He’ll truly surprise you with your actual gift. A beautiful gold necklace with an amethyst pendant (and a secret tracker you don’t so that he’ll always find you everywhere even if you ever try to run away from him). And, of course, he wouldn’t forget to gift Paw something for having his part in the creation of you, so he mails him your bloodied lacy underwear as a reminder of the lost innocence of his precious girl.

Oh, and aftercare definitely involves those large hands of his giving you nice belly rubs and soft scratches along your skin with the occasional peppered kisses along the pudge. Then, you’ll eventually both come to the conclusion that you're each other’s anchor whether for better or much, much worse.

[curiositydooropened]

Ranged • 00: Prologue

After Hell brought Horror to the Heartland, America’s dirt roads and open woods began to fall to rot and ruin. To prevent further inter dimensional slips, the government dispatched several workers, such as yourselves, to travel the country saving small communities. 

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 922 - This fic is episodic.

Warnings: very slowburn, coworkers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, weapons, fighting, murder, viruses, decay, monsters *This chapter contains mentions of animal harm, blood, and vomit/nausea.

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Masterlist

---

Moodboard • Episode 01: Firetower

Blood shone in thick, dark splatters across a freckled cheekbone. It stuck his hair to his ear and his collar to his throat. It stained a shoulder. You watched it glimmer under street lamps, watched the clench of his knuckles around the steering wheel, watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he avoided your gaze.

There was no point saying it anymore, the words exhausted their meaning a year ago, but it was true nonetheless. You can’t save everyone. You both knew it. It didn’t hurt less.

You mopped at the blood splatter on your own cheeks with a spare t-shirt to flirt a discount out of the motel attendant. He slid you a key on a novelty ring while Steve parked on the far side of the lot.

You’d set the phone on its receiver by the time he exited the shower. You rinsed bloody clothes in the sink and brushed your teeth and slipped into an oversized t-shirt. You couldn’t remember who it belonged to. Maybe you’d picked it up at a thrift store along the way. 

“Owens?” He asked, voice gruff, eyes red. A claw mark dug into the flesh of his cheek, to the bone.

You reached into your duffle for the first aid kit to procure ointment and a butterfly bandage. “Sit.” 

He sighed, but did as instructed, towel falling to his shoulder. He winced as you patted ointment into his wound. “Did he say where to go next?” 

You nodded, pressing his flesh together until it wrinkled near his eye. “Small town in Western Montana. Locals think it’s the water supply. Park ranger called it in.” 

“How far?”

“Eight hours.” You zipped the kit closed and wedged it back into your bag.

“Okay,” he muttered, tossing his towel into a corner near the sink. He stretched sore muscles with a groan, and you watched the bruise on his ribs bloom in greens and browns. The swelling was down significantly from two days earlier. “We’ll leave first thing.” 

He meant first light. You glanced out a fogged window at the glow of street lamps. The vacancy sign buzzed bright red. The sky remained dark just beyond.

“Okay.” You sighed and toed under linens that had yellowed years ago. 

Steve triple checked the lock and toted his bat from the nook near the front door to his bedside. Then, he pulled his lighter from his pants pocket and shook it to his ear. By the look on his face, it needed a refill. He placed it to the bedside table between you, just beside the Bible.

“Are you okay?” He’d asked it four times already, a compulsion you’d learned to ignore.

“Yes.” You knew better than to reciprocate, knew he wouldn’t answer you anyway. You had minimal sleep hours left. It wasn’t worth the fight. You can’t save everyone.

“I’m going to turn the light out.” He warned, sliding himself into his own double bed. A large hand reached beneath an orange lampshade and the room went dark.

The darkness was spotted orange and blue, and you fought back the images of Steve’s fists meeting and elderly man’s face. You fought back the screams that rang in your ears, the copper taste on your tongue, and that pang that lay permanent in your nostrils.

Steve shifted in his bed, springs groaning beneath his weight, and you honed in on him instead. Every night, you fell asleep to the steady in and out of his breath, the comfort of him an arm’s length away.

—

The ranger’s uniform matched the coffee and cream in your styrofoam cup. The confusion knit between his brows matched those of dozens of local law enforcement across this country over the last year. You flashed you badges and asked him to take a seat, and hours later you were holding your hand over your nose to mask the smell of decay.

The corners of Steve’s mouth pulled upwards in a grim apology, sipping his own coffee.

A room full of National Guardsmen looked aghast. There was no guarantee a burn of that size could stay contained. Half of the state could be up in flames by the end of the week.

“Better than the alternative.” You promised.

The Spread started on a cattle ranch north of town, the herd dwindling as calves and heifers slipped into cracks and broke legs and necks. A large crevasse rotted through a patch in the back forty, splitting the land down the middle from government land near to the rancher’s estate.

On the back side, it seeped into the river. Trees were downed and turned to mush and rot. Where once sat a hunting perch, now folded into a vat in the ground.

The Ranger had taken you up by four-wheeler, an excursion neither of you had been prepared for in slacks and blazers. You supposed those were hazards of the job though, wading through the remnants of a hillside in nylon stockings.

Steve rolled the cuffs of his sleeves up past his elbows to dive into the meat of a fallen tree. It came back green and gooey, but nothing had nest inside. Not yet, at least.

“You called just in time,” he wiped his hand on his pant leg and you dry heaved a little.

“So this… virus,” the Ranger gestured to the pocket of melted flesh, root to branch, “it can infect humans too?”

“If it festers too long,” you nodded.

“And what might that look like?” He asked like he already knew the answer.

---

[A/N: Here she is. These two have been my new best friends lately, the one thing I've written that actually stuck because it felt good. Let's hope it stays that way so I can keep riding this train. I don't know how often I'll update this, but it'll be on-going. I'd love to write blurbs, and I have a few episode locations/monsters in mind.

I'd really appreciate it if you reblogged and/or left me a comment. Or if you're more inclined, head to my Ao3 and leave me a comment there. It'd really mean the whole world. xoxoxo]

[artfightdramaconfessions]

Just had to block someone and delete their bookmark because it turned out they were one of those christans that 'followed the bible to the T' and therefore didn't support Gay people. But they totes weren't Homophobic. They just think they'll all go to hell and will actively vote for Gay marrige to be banned.

If you see a character with a toyhouse Link and decide not to click it but still book mark the character, click it anyway. It could save your life one day.

.

[tassjis]

A list of objects and technologies created by Myne

The gremlin has been busy. Anything red was created by another, but without Myne creating something else, the creator would not have made it, so Myne's name is not listed as the creator but Myne was the reason it was made. Anything blue was improved upon

VEHICLES

A horse-drawn carriage with suspension

FURNITURE

Spring mattress spring upholstery - Zach

COSMETICS + ACCESSORIES

Rinsham - all-in-one shampoo Hair Ornaments Librarians armband Tote bag - improved

FASHION

Bubble skirts Halter-top dress Tie-dye - previously existed Wax Dyeing Stencil Dyeing Water ripple embroidery

EVENTS

Tasting party Charity Concert Dying competition

TOYS

Karuta Reversi Chess Playing Cards Baby Rattle Educational baby toys - such as shaped blocks and holes implied other toys

FOOD - Ingredients and condiments -

Compote Tanieh Cream Gelatin Gnocchi Gratin Herb Dressing Lage Sauce (Basil Sauce) Mayonnaise Yeast Pasta Ponzu Sauce Pomme sauce Rumptopf Rutreb Jam White sauce

- Savoury -

Capellini Caprese Salad Carbonara Consomme Soup Double Consomme Soup - Leise Crispy-Crispy Launeide and Sujaru Salad (Vegetable Salad) Crun-Crun Ju-Ju Farba (Chicken Salad) Cappellini Fikken - improved Fluffy Bread Sandwich - Improved with fluffy bread Hamburg Steak Lasagne Macaroni Gratin Osso Buco - Later improved by Leise Parue Burger Parue Okonomiyaki Pizza Potatoffel salad Pomme Soup Risotto Steamed Potatoffel Steamed Taschitz (chicken) Quiche French Toast Salted Cucumber imitation

- Sweet -

Bavarois Cookies Langues De Chat Crepe Fallfold Tart - Nicola Ice Cream Mille Crepe Mousse Panna Cotta Paru Cake Pound Cake Pudding Short Cake Tiramisu Tanier Cream/Mont Blanc

TOOLS

Chopsticks Clothes Hanger - improved Hairpin Herbal Candles Crochet hook Hand pump Hide Glue Steamer Precision Knife Roller Starch Glue Metal letter types Round Bell Safety Pin

MACHINES

Waxing Machine Letterpress Machine

PRINTING TYPES

Woodblock printing Stencil printing Letterpress printing

STATIONARY

Clay Tablet Mokkan Faux Papyrus Dipitch Dipitch Stylus Soot pencil Linseed and soot Ink Colour Ink Folders

- Paper -

Plant Paper (Volrin paper) Conjoining Paper (Nenseb paper) Effon (Music) Paper Fireproof Paper (Trombe paper) Rinfin Paper - Illgner Wax paper (Wax/Rinfin paper) Trauperle Paper -Illgner

- Magic Paper -

Enhanced Conjoining paper - Drewanchel Spellcasting Nenseb paper (Nenseb/Trombe with magic circle) Spellcasting effon paper (Effon/Trombe with chant) Maximum Quality Fey Paper (Effon/Trombe/Nenseb) improved by Ferdinand

MAGIC TOOLS

Music Box with Effon paper (technically made by Ehrenfest students) Drivable Highbeast Rainbow Highbeast Stenluke Disappearing Ink Plush Toy with recorded messages Magic tool to send books back to their shelves

MAGIC

Water Gun Copy and Place

KNOWLEDGE

Salting Out Lace knitting Written Calculation Decorative shaped vegetables Origami Introductory system Tickets Red seal Trading Graphs Myne Decimal System Rosemyne Magic Compression Method Female Crest Copyright royalties Questionnaire survey

PRINTED PRODUCTS

Black and white picture Book Children's Bible - Supreme God and the Eternal Five Children's Bible - Spring Subordinates Children's Bible - Summer Subordinates Children's Bible - Autumn Subordinates Children's Bible - Winter Subordinates Story Books Knight's Tale (short stories 1-3) - Compiled and translated Knight's Tale (short stories 4-5) - Compiled and translated Mother's Bedtime Stories Collection Unnamed Operation Grimm Book (Groschel) - Lutz Etiquette and Noble Euphamisms Book 1 - Fran Etiquette and Noble Euphamisms Book 2 - Fran Rozemyne's Recipe collection Knight's stories - Elvira Royal Academy stories - Elvira Royal Academy love stories - Elvira A history of Dunklefelger - Compiled and translated Knight stories Ahrensbach - Compiled Ditter Story - Roderick Royal Academy love stories 2 - Elvira The tale of Fernstine Part 1 - 3 - Elvira Sheet Music Concert programs Accounting report Printed illustrations (created to promote a knight's tale) Ferdinand illustations Cinderella Romance Novel (pornographic smut)

Songs

Tulip Anime Song Song for the concert Movie theme song "Under the chestnut tree" A hymn for Eglantine (requested by Anastasius) A couple classical songs

[amuseoffyre]

Been thinking more about it and the fact that three is one of the most significant numbers in the Bible (along with 7 and 12, of course). Especially topped of by 3-in-1 divinity: God, Jesus and Holy Spirit.

Toting up all the threes I've spotted in Good Omens so far:

3 demons in a graveyard

3 babies in the divine game of Find the Baby

Room 3 - where the Antichrist is given to the wrong parents

3 friends of the Antichrist

3 witches tied to Armageddon 1.0 (Agnes, Anathema & Tracy)

3 witchfinders likewise connected by association (Adultery, Shadwell and Newt)

3 physical objects (sword, scales and crow) delivered and collected by the Messenger

3 shall ride the sky as two

3 different dominions: Hell, Earth and Heaven

3 break-ups/downs between Crowley and Aziraphale - 1862, Bandstand and Bookshop (2 of which have ended when Crowley went somewhere he shouldn't to try and save Aziraphale and rescued a book. Now Aziraphale is somewhere Crowley shouldn't go and the Book of Life is hanging over them)

3 angels turning up unexpectedly in unusual attire at the bookshop

3 minisodes

3 sets of 3 characters being pulled back from death/the grave in said minisodes: Job's 3 children, Elspeth's 3 bodies and the 3 Nazis

There's also significance in the fact that Adam comes into his power in his 11th year, so he's not 12 (ie. one of the other significant numbers and a multiple of 3) and Muriel is a 37th level Scrivener (ie. not one of the multiples or 12 or 3).

There are probably more as well. Lots of tasty little layers of Biblical numerology.

[kob131]

ISTG that if I find another person saying that Blake “abandoned Yang”, or that Adam’s death was murder, I’m going to hold a pillow up to my face and scream loud enough to literally wake the dead. Blake was breaking up the extremists that helped cause one of the biggest tragedies in Remnant’s history, and overthrow its de facto leader that permanently disfigured one of her teammates so that he could never do it again. Also, you know how the Bible says “thou shall not kill”? Well, it makes two exceptions: self defense, and soldiers at war, both of which are applicable in team RWBY’s case. Like Jacques, Adam is a very easy good-faith check, but pretty much everyone fails it, and I have no idea why.

Even more basic than that: Adam was STILL trying to kill her and Yang. They gave him the option to leave.

Yang: Leave. Us. Alone. This is your last chance.

He was fucking reaching for the blade even AFTER being disarmed.

And this ain't a case like with Cinder and Rhodes where Adam was just trying to capture them for justified reason- Adam was OPENLY trying to kill.

This really is textbook self defense.

Dunno what to say- I have no positive interpretations of this. Stop trying to argue that the blatantly bad guys are actually totes justified.

[vera-yaps]

🥀🖤Zero Day Headcanons🖤🥀

*i dont condone nor romanticize them or their actions i just love the movie!*

🖤🥀Cal tries to get andre to listen to Pavement, Andre calls him a fag for it but the next time he’s out with his parents at the mall, he just may swing by that one record store, the one that smells like rubber and use some of his pizza place paycheck to get one of their albums—the same one Cal showed him. he’d never admit it though.

🖤🥀They are so fucking homophobic/misogynistic im sorry yall😭Like andre i’d imagine more outwardly than cal, to me andre’s the type to say someth like a date🍇/aids joke or some shit and if Rachel’s in vicinity, she’d side eye cal to say something but of course the fucker doesnt. But if it’s just rachel and cal i feel like he may slip up and make some off color remarks but over all wouldnt call women bitches/etc the way andre would (and literally does in the movie)

🖤🥀To me (i dont think this is a very hot take) their part of new stratford is very conservative. it’s not like gun toting bible thumpers conservative but the area is relatively small and spreads fast—When Cal got caught smoking weed it wasnt scandalous but you did hear people saying that pam and steve’s son a few blocks down got busted hanging with druggies or something.

🖤🥀It also makes the queer interpretation more realistic to me. if we’re looking at it from that angle, those two are repressed and they are repressed bad. Like i dont have any particular sexuality headcanons for either of them simply bc they never got to officially figure it out. those feelings were so there for each other. Flat out. they just never got the chance to figure out what their identities were.

🥀🖤that being said my god those two were so pathetic for each other.

🥀🖤They met 1994 in sixth grade civics class

🥀🖤the teacher paired them for an ice breaker activity and they just sorta never left each other

🥀🖤honestly i feel like they developed feelings for each other on a subconscious level way closer to the events of Zero Day

🥀🖤Andre just couldn’t get Cal out of his head

🥀🖤like mf was simpin

🥀🖤Andre never found the need to make genuine friends. he was involved with the science club, the track team, he contributed to the school newspaper, and he was good at what he did, don’t get it twisted.

🥀🖤Like people paint andre to be super outwardly hateful and openly bullying his peers. but like to an extent i think he was liked. not necessarily popular and not as well recieved as cal, but like according to the website they both had relatively extensive-ish friendgroups

🥀🖤but the only person he’s ever considered a close person to him was cal, so he figured it was just that.

🥀🖤having a super close best friend makes you think about him all the time, makes you memorize his band shirts and typical outfits, makes you get all pink when he pays any kind of overt attention to you whatsoever. nothing out of the ordinary.

🥀🖤As for Cal I feel like he starts feeling that way alot sooner than andre does, but hes just as if not more repressed than he is.

🥀🖤Like i could go on about how cal is horrifically mischaracterized by the fandom but thats another post for another day. but like ppl think he’d be extremely open and okay with his sexuality/be a sassy twink? which like tbh i dont see at all

🥀🖤this dude comes from a religious background in the late 90’s/early aughts. like blud would be so repressed its not even funny

🥀🖤he just doesnt feel like anybody else could understand the kind of hate he had under wraps

🥀🖤But andre did.

[guiltygearconfessions]

I get annoyed when someone posts a Bridget meme Like „she’s so me best character in guilty gear“ and then when you try to talk to them about guilty gear turns out the only thing they know is that Bridget is trans

The specific issue is the big statements about opinions and the entire franchise when they have 0 clue about the actual franchise and only know one single thing (even worse when they truly only know about her being trans and nothing about her backstory or anything)

You can like Bridget without being a guilty gear fan but don’t go toting around the message of the basket church without reading even a little of the basket Bible first

-