#then joey is like 'i had to read the bible pretty closely but no we don't' like try telling me that is not nate nolastname

[opalsiren]

a concept: zane asks lewis to be his best man for the zikki wedding, who obviously says yes. nate is NOT pleased about this turn of events. thinking on his feet, zane tells nate he didn't ask him to be his best man because he wants him to officiate the ceremony. cue nate bursting into tears and immediately agreeing. obviously all hell breaks loose when rikki finds out btw

[vivithefolle]

Hermione has more complimentary traits with Harry than she does with Ron. Hermione is logical and thinks through her decisions while Harry is ruled by his emotions and follows his instincts. She's enthusiastic/cheerful he is more introverted and bitter. She motivates him to do better, and he reminds her that there are more important things than books and cleverness. Ron's humour gets on Hermione's nerves and her cleverness does the same to him. Their differences tear them instead of balancing.

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HahahahahahHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh that’s a good one, oh thank you dude, oh I haven’t laughed this hard in... in like 24 hours, I saw a pretty great meme yesterday, but oh thank you that was hilarious.

...

... wait you were serious?

...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHONHONHONHONHONHONHAHAHAHHONHONSNORTHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEH HAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAH HAHAHAH HAHAHAH HAAHAHAHAHAAAAAA AAAAAH HAAAWWW... oh my god, oh my god... seriously you could build a whole ass circus out of that.

Alright! Now that the hilarity’s over...

Hermione has more complimentary traits with Harry than she does with Ron. 

Prove it.

Hermione is logical and thinks through her decisions 

... and sometimes she also makes very illogical decisions and acts very rash, see how she sets Snape on fire in first year which could have hurt everyone around, how she forgot she’s a witch, see how the Polyjuice plan was total bullshit and relied 100% on luck, see how she acted completely thoughtless to Ron in POA, see how she was completely harebrained at the end of OOTP due to pressure, her very thought-out reaction to Ron and Lavender being together, and such...

Harry is ruled by his emotions and follows his instincts 

You realize you just described Ron too, pal? Ron’s role in the Trio is the Heart. Harry’s the Body, since everything revolves around him, Hermione’s the Brain, Ron is the Heart. That’s how they work.

She's enthusiastic/cheerful 

......... cheerful?

Hermione?

Cheerful?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA(...)HAWHAWHAWHONHONHONHONHONHAHAHAHAHA(...)HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAhahahaha... haaaa...

Hermione may be enthusiastic about knowledge, but she’s not cheerful. She’s not the one who makes the jokes, she’s not the one who has a snarky comment on everything, she’s not the one who makes Harry laugh, she’s not the one who laughs at Harry’s jokes. That’s Ron’s job.

RON is the cheerful one. Sorry pal, better reread the books.

he is more introverted and bitter 

Pro tip: this can also describe Hermione to a degree. Though Hermione isn’t exactly an introvert, she’s more of a socially awkward extrovert. She’s not reading quietly in a corner and demurely asking “oh please don’t talk to me, I just want to read :(” she’s more like “I READ THAT BOOK ABOUT [social injustice] AND IT’S CLEAR TO ME NOW THAT [social injustice] IS UNACCEPTABLE, DO YOU HAVE A MOMENT TO TALK ABOUT [social injustice], I’M GONNA RAISE FUNDS TO PROMOTE AWARENESS AND EDUCATE PEOPLE ON THIS SUBJECT WILL YOU JOIN ME, WHY WON’T YOU JOIN ME, COME BACK WE’RE NOT FINISHED WITH THIS-”

... or, I could also... show you.

From your own dear and esteemed “Harmony Bible” that is Order of the Phoenix. *snort* “Harmony Bible”... oh my god, the delusion, the delusion...

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m  getting  sick  of  my  scar  hurting,  and  I’m  getting  bored  walking  down  that  corridor  every  night.”  He  rubbed  his  forehead  angrily.  “I  just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —”

“That’s  not  funny,”  said  Hermione  sharply.  “Dumbledore  doesn’t  want  you  to  have  dreams  about  that  corridor  at  all,  or  he  wouldn’t  have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.”

“I  am  working!”  said  Harry,  nettled.  “You  try  it  sometime,  Snape  trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!”

1. Example of Hermione not appreciating Harry’s humour

2. Example of Harry not liking Hermione’s “pushing him to do better”

Oooh, surprise! It’s not just Ron and Hermione that do the silent treatment to each other, Harry does it too! What a turn of events!

Hermione  nodded,  apparently  still  lost  in  thought.  Then,  quite  abruptly, she said, “But you shouldn’t have seen this at all, Harry.”

“What?” he said, taken aback.

“You’re supposed to be learning how to close your mind to this sort of thing,” said Hermione, suddenly stern.

“I know I am,” said Harry. “But —”

“Well,  I  think  we  should  just  try  and  forget  what  you  saw,”  said  Hermione firmly. “And you ought to put in a bit more effort on your Occlumency from now on.”

Harry was so angry with her that he did not talk to her for the rest of  the  day,  which  proved  to  be  another  bad  one.

Ah, lying, avoiding the subject, refusing to consider her opinion... how harmonious. *gigglesnort*

“But why haven’t you got Occlumency lessons anymore?” said Hermione, frowning.

“I’ve told you,” Harry muttered. “Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I’ve got the basics...”

“So  you’ve  stopped  having  funny  dreams?”  said  Hermione  skeptically.

“Pretty much,” said Harry, not looking at her.

“Well, I don’t think Snape should stop until you’re absolutely sure you  can  control  them!”  said  Hermione  indignantly.  “Harry,  I  think  you should go back to him and ask —”

“No,” said Harry forcefully. “Just drop it, Hermione, okay?”

Hmmm, funny how Harry acts more like a teenager trying to sneak out of bed on Mama Ron and Hermione’s watch rather than as “Hermione’s perfect flawless soulmate uwu”!

He  had  ended  up  saying  to  them  truthfully  that  Sirius  wanted  Harry  to  resume  Occlumency  lessons.  He  had  been  regretting  this  ever since; Hermione would not let the subject drop and kept reverting to it when Harry least expected it.

“You can’t tell me you’ve stopped having funny dreams,” Hermione said now, “because Ron told me last night you were muttering in your sleep again...”

Harry  threw  Ron  a  furious  look.  Ron  had  the  grace  to  look  ashamed of himself.

Yes, she toooootally brings out “the best” of him... the best of all he’s learned at the Dursleys, which is avoidance, lying, deceiving... ha ha ha ha ha... oh, you guys, you’re so desperate, it’s almost cute. But then I remember that you keep bashing Ron and I stop feeling merciful.

“You are trying to block your mind, aren’t you?” said Hermione, looking beadily at Harry. “You are keeping going with your Occlumency?”

“Of course I am,” said Harry, trying to sound as though this ques-tion was insulting, but not quite meeting her eye. The truth was that he  was  so  intensely  curious  about  what  was  hidden  in  that  room  full  of dusty orbs that he was quite keen for the dreams to continue. 

Oh yes, he’s totally motivated to do better. He’s so motivated in fact he’s going to completely ignore her. And guess how that first date ends? With Sirius’ death. What a harmonious pairing.

“But Harry, you’ve just said it,” said Hermione fiercely. “Dumbledore  wanted  you  to  learn  to  shut  these  things  out  of  your  mind,  if  you’d done Occlumency properly you’d never have seen this —”

“IF   YOU   THINK   I’M   JUST   GOING   TO   ACT   LIKE   I   HAVEN’T SEEN —”

“Sirius told you there was nothing more important than you learn-ing to close your mind!”

“WELL, I EXPECT HE’D SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT IF HE KNEW WHAT I’D JUST —”

And and and!! Hohohoho I’m not done!! Let me show you, I have SO MUCH to show you!!

As early as Goblet of Fire... Ah, and don’t say that this is “evil Ron’s evil influence of evilness :(” because Ron literally is harder-working than Harry in possibly every way because Ron doesn’t have the luxury of being the protagonist to promote him to, say, youngest Seeker in a century. Yeah, Ron’s not a Mary Sue like that. But I digress.

"It's Christmas, Hermione," said Harry lazily; he was rereading Flying with the Cannons for the tenth time in an armchair near the fire.

Hermione looked severely over at him too. "I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!"

"Like what?" Harry said as he watched Joey Jenkins of the Cannons belt a Bludger toward a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.

"That egg!" Hermione hissed.

"Come on, Hermione, I've got till February the twenty-fourth," Harry said.

He had put the golden egg upstairs in his trunk and hadn't opened it since the celebration party after the first task. There were still two and a half months to go until he needed to know what all the screechy wailing meant, after all.

"I just thought you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet," she said. "Really get to work on that egg."

"Oh I - I reckon I've got a pretty good idea what it's about now," Harry lied.

"Have you really?" said Hermione, looking impressed. "Well done!"

Harry’s insides gave a guilty squirm, but he ignored them. He still had five weeks to work out that egg clue, after all, and that was ages... whereas if he went into Hogsmeade, he might run into Hagrid, and get a chance to persuade him to come back.

... but you know what makes Harry change his mind about lying about the egg? Or rather, who?

So you may argue that oh là là, Harry feels guilty for lying to his great soulmate Hermoanie and waah isn’t it so romantic...

Even though Harry can and does acknowledge that Hermione means well… it’s not enough for him. He will lie, avoid her, and go behind her back, like a child would with their parent, and even though he may feel guilty about it, it’s not enough to deter him.

Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile.

"Tha's my boy. . . you show 'em, Harry, you show 'em. Beat 'em all."

Lying to Hagrid wasn't quite like lying to anyone else. Harry went back to the castle later that afternoon with Ron and Hermione, unable to banish the image of the happy expression on Hagrid's whiskery face as he had imagined Harry winning the tournament. The incomprehensible egg weighed more heavily than ever on Harrys conscience that evening, and by the time he had got into bed, he had made up his mind - it was time to shelve his pride and see if Cedric's hint was worth anything.

And of course Half-Blood Prince, and if you try to tell me “buuutt hermoanie was ooc :((((” you can put a cactus up your rear you coward.

Welp. Not Ron, not Hermione. Hagrid.

Welcome to the world, Ha... Hagry? Harrid? Oh whatever. Here you go, Hagrid brings the best out of Harry, Harry feels more guilt at the thought of lying to Hagrid than anyone else. OTP.

She’s certainly not encouraging Harry to try new stuff. How is that supposed to help him improve? How is that supposed to make him do better?

“How are you doing that?” demanded Hermione, who was redfaced and whose hair was growing bushier and bushier in the fumes from her cauldron; her potion was still resolutely purple.

“Add a clockwise stir—”

“No, no, the book says counterclockwise!” she snapped.

Harry shrugged and continued what he was doing.

For or the rest of the week’s Potions lessons Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince’s instructions wherever they deviated from Libatius Borage’s, with the result that by their fourth lesson Slughorn  was  raving  about  Harry’s  abilities,  saying  that  he  had  rarely  taught  anyone  so  talented.   Neither  Ron  nor  Hermione  was  delighted  by  this.  Although  Harry  had  offered  to  share  his  book  with both of them, Ron had more difficulty deciphering the handwriting than Harry did, and could not  keep  asking  Harry  to  read  aloud  or  it  might  look  suspicious.  Hermione,  meanwhile,  was  resolutely plowing on with what she called the “official” instructions, but becoming increasingly bad-tempered as they yielded poorer results than the Prince’s.

In fact

(dyslexic!Ron dyslexic!Ron dyslexic!Ron)

Well isn’t that fun? Harry is being the “best” at something... and Hermione doesn’t like it.

Incredibly, and to Hermione’s increasing resentment, Harry’s best subject had suddenly become Potions, thanks to the Half-Blood Prince.  

she seems

The only person who did not find these charms amusing was Hermione, who maintained a rigidly disapproving expression throughout and refused to talk at all if Harry had used the Muffliato spell on anyone in the vicinity.

to hate

Hermione's expression could not have been any smugger; she had loathed being out-performed in every Potions class. She was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal phials. More to avoid watching this irritating sight than anything else, Harry bent over the Half-Blood Prince's book and turned a few pages with unnecessary force.

that Harry is doing great.

(Oh look. Harry is irritated at the mere sight of Hermione. Well that’s definitely a hint they should marry!!! /s)

“Are you telling me,” said Hermione, “that you're going to go back—?”

“And get the book? Yeah, I am,” said Harry forcefully. "Listen, without the Prince I'd never have won the Felix Felicis. I'd never have known how to save Ron from poisoning, I'd never have—”

“—got a reputation for Potions brilliance you don't deserve,” said Hermione nastily.

And then let’s remember Hermione still nattering about Occlumency through Deathly Hallows, or how she breaks Harry’s wand and Harry is “desiring nothing more than to get away from her”, and all that... ah but of course you won’t ever see that in all your “Harmony” analyses, because there’s no way to spin that positively... ha ha ha...

Accomplishing his mission from Dumbledore? Saving Ron’s life? Nah, Hermione is more concerned with one thing: having her top spot back.

*slow clap* Friend. Of. The. Year. Why does anyone like this character again? Selfish brat.

he reminds her that there are more important things than books and cleverness 

You have again stolen Ron’s qualities to pretend they’re Harry’s/Hermione’s.

And here they come... the receipts... all the receipts...

This happens right during the Firebolt fight. It’s still Ron who cares for Hermione, even though he’s angry with her, while Harry is like “oh ok but gotta finish Snape’s essay tho”. Priorities.

“How’s she doing it?” Ron muttered to Harry one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Harry looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books. 

“Doing what?”

“Getting to all her classes!” Ron said. “I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday’s lesson, but Hermione can’t’ve been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she’s never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she’s never missed one of them either!”

Harry didn’t have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione’s impossible schedule at the moment; he really needed to get on with Snape’s essay. Two seconds later, however, he was interrupted again, this time by Wood. - Prisoner of Azkaban

It’s Ron who understands that Hermione is driving herself mad. Ron, not Harry. Bye, can’t hear you over the canon facts.

“I don’t believe it!” Hermione wailed. “Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!”

“You know what, Hermione?” said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. “I reckon you’re cracking up. You’re trying to do too much.”

“No, I’m not!” said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. “I just made a mistake, that’s all! I’d better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry... I’ll see you in Divination!” - Prisoner of Azkaban

Later on...

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Arry -" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

And she refused to eat another bite.

[…]

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"

But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up. - Goblet of Fire, chapter 12

Dinner was a subdued affair that night. Harry and Ron did not talk much, but ate with gusto, having studied hard all day. Hermione, on the other hand, kept putting down her knife and fork and diving under the table for her bag, from which she would seize a book to check some fact or figure. Ron was just telling her that she ought to eat a decent meal or she would not sleep that night, when her fork slid from her limp fingers and landed with a loud tinkle on her plate. - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 31

Hmm, now it looks to me that Harry is mostly oblivious to Hermione and it’s Ron who’s taking care of her. But hey, “hArMoAnY” I guess!

Ron's humour gets on Hermione's nerves 

Fake news, it’s actually Harry’s humour that Hermione doesn’t like.

Really, just read this essay, written by someone who actually read the books without cherry-picking them, it should show you how blatanly wrong you are.

her cleverness does the same to him. 

*deep breath*

WHY YOU ALWAYS LYIIIIIIN, WHY THE FUCK YOU LYIIIIIIN, OH MY GOD STOP FUCKIN LYING

Again, a comprehensive list of BOOK QUOTES because I’ve dedicated too much time to proving you wrong: https://www.quora.com/How-many-times-has-Ron-Weasley-supported-Hermione-and-told-her-how-amazing-and-talented-she-is/answer/Issy-Dodds

Anyway Anon...

Your ‘Harmony’ is built on a pile of lies, blatant Ron Weasley erasure and a creepy fetishistic obsession with making a teenage girl look like she’s the ideal life partner for a guy who blatantly does NOT want her to be his life partner. Yall have issues.

[kaysreadingarchive]

Wolves in Sheep’s Clothing: Part 3

Pairing: Jacob Seed x Reader, slightly John Seed x Reader x Joseph Seed

AUs: Omegaverse, werewolves

Warnings: Cursing, mention of death, threats, theft

Word Count: 2,741

A/N:  Thank you all for your love and support while I write trash and sip tea. It means the world to me! And like always, give me some feedback on what I could do better or what I did alright, where you wanna see this whole mess go, or something you just don’t understand. I also really want to know what your theories are for the coming story. I always love reading your guys' analyses.

Masterlist       Omegaverse Rules

-------

The picture just seemed to vanish. It wasn’t ripped up anywhere or jammed to the bottom of the bag. Your eyes were getting strained from how many countless times you look for it. You dug through your torn clothes and nothing came up. To other people, it might have looked like you’ve gone mad. Ripping up clothes with an uneasy gleam in your eyes. Maybe they even turned red like John’s. That color still sent shivers down your spine when you thought of it. A dark red, almost an old blood or maroon color.

If it wasn’t here, it had to be inside the church. You could just go in, it would be quick. It would be way easier than looking at someone or making eye contact. Then they would have to start a conversation and you weren’t in the mood to talk about how bad America’s politics were or the latest crop failure.

You looked from the entrance of the white church back to the bed of your truck. As you thought your plan over, you started to chew the inside of your cheek out of habit. The plan was pretty solid, the problem was the people outside rather than inside. Joseph, John, and Jacob stood at the door as people hugged and talked. They blocked most of the entrance as if it was a sign they didn’t want you in. Were they hiding something? This theory alone was stupid. Of course, they were hiding something, they were shady as hell. Jacob just happened to be the least shady of them.

If someone was talking directly to him, he would just nod, not making a real attempt to answer back. You didn’t really notice, but his blue eyes would wander to your truck where you practically ripped your clothes up more than they were, looking for your photo. Sure, he might have some secrets, but they were something you didn’t want to hear. John’s seemed pretty obvious. His secret was he fucked a lot of women and it was pretty obvious. He had money and a dick, what more could a woman like you want?

If you didn’t go in and it was in there, you would hate yourself. It was the only real thing from your parent’s house that you wanted before it was taken by the bank when they died. But if you did go in there and it wasn’t there, it would be all for nothing. It seemed like a lose-lose situation. It’s only been a couple of minutes and you already feel like giving up.

Nevertheless, it didn’t seem like you had much of a choice. So, you just bit the bullet and hopped out of the truck and made your way along the concrete sidewalk.

The blood was pumping and ringing in your ears along with the overwhelming beat of your heart. You felt the need to make yourself as small as possible. Maybe if you did, people wouldn’t stare or make comments. How dare she just walk into the Church and disrespect the Family. She doesn’t even thank them or hug them, nor does she have the audacity to talk to them.

As you walked by, these people, these followers gave you the dirtiest looks. It was only when their flock noticed you, the Seeds started to acknowledge you as well. Lana, or Faith as she liked to be called, was the first to notice.

Lana was the least problematic of the four. You’ve never personally spoken to her. Her dark brown hair had daisies woven into it and she wore a white sundress covered in more flowers. What really unnerved you was her smile. Her pearly white teeth were stretched into an uneven smile that stood out against her tan skin. Her smile didn’t reach her brown eyes, which were dull in comparison. She was really trying to show off how innocent she was with the whites. She wanted you to see her this way, as Faith rather than Lana. They seemed like two entirely different people.

You walked slightly farther away from her as she hugged another follower. It was Danny. He not only came for the service, but he stayed behind. Doesn’t have dedication towards his job, but when it comes to weird religions, he’s all for it. This was real proof of how persuasive and charismatic these people turned out to be. To turn someone’s character completely upside down was startling, to say the least.

“Can I help you with anything, my child?” The voice came from behind. It was smooth and gentle. You turned to see Joseph staring with a small smile on his face. His yellow aviators were still present and he looked absolutely ridiculous with no shirt on. Sweat dripped from your brow as you tried to avoid his attentive gaze, but it followed when your eyes landed on a more interesting patch of dirt in front of you.

“I lost something, inside the church. It was a photo.” Fuck, you even sounded suspicious. Your mouth tripped over the words as you tried to shove them out. You sounded and looked like a mess. You could even feel John’s and Jacob’s gazes once more. One was more of glare or stare down than the other. No wonder some people were so terrified, they were intimidating up close. You weren’t even looking directly at them and your anxiety was pushing your heart to the bottom of your stomach.

“We could help you find it.” He sounded sincere like he wanted to help. You knew this all too well. Joseph Seed put up an act, it was very clear to you. Something was boiling underneath. Something dangerous lied below the surface. Maybe it was even worse than John or Jacob.

“NO! I mean… I can do it by myself. Thanks for the offer.” There it goes, your entire life down the drain. You might as well have angered the wrong people. Killed right in front of your own coworker no doubt.

“Please, I insist.” He was pushing. He made it clear in the undertone of his voice that he didn’t want you talking back. You looked back up once more and saw the smile from before was gone. Only replaced by a disappointing frown. In some way, you felt disappointed in yourself. It was odd because you did nothing wrong. What the hell was wrong with you?

Joseph put a hand onto the small of your back and guided you into the church. He started in the right aisles and you started on the left.

You scrounged through tons of daisy petals and hymn notes and nothing showed up. Not even the remains of a photo. But there was something interesting. White books were tucked away behind the back of pews. They had gold trim on it and in the middle was the same weird cross in gold. It was rather heavy and the first page had the title, ‘The Book of Joseph.’ Oh, fuck, this guy had his own fucking bible. Just great, now you knew this place was weird. This just wasn’t any church, it was a different damn religion.

The covers of the book gleaned in the fluorescent lighting as you peered over the rows of pews to Joseph. He was on his knees, back facing you, looking under the seats for the photo. It was somewhat touching that he cared, but that wasn’t the point. You looked down at the book once more.

You could take it. No one would know and bring it back to the Department. Joey would get a kick out of this. There was the possibility of Danny finding out and telling one of the fucking Seeds then you would be in huge trouble. You could already see Jacob waiting outside your house to attack you for stealing from his brother. The mere thought caused you to bite your lip until you could taste the iron flavored blood.

This was a great opportunity to learn more about these guys. Maybe Hope County will remove the wool over their eyes. You looked back at Joseph once more and slipped the book into a pocket that lined your jacket. If you put your hands in your front pockets, no one would suspect a thing.

“Did you find anything?” You called over to Joseph. He got up and dusted off his jeans with an apologetic look on his face.

“I am sorry. I didn’t find anything. If it helps, I will come by if I find it, Deputy.” He knew you were a deputy. Hell, why wouldn’t he? There were only four of you in the entire county, five if you counted Nancy. You wish you could just whip out your badge and arrest him on the spot. It would be so much easier.

“Thank you for your help, Joseph.” You didn’t even bother looking him in the eyes. He would instantly see how guilty you looked as you felt the book’s cover press against the palm of your hand. You could feel the guilt and sorrowfulness start to bubble in your chest. The thought of stealing from a somewhat innocent man was frightening. All this just for some proof of something. Whatever it was had to be bad. A murder confession maybe, you prayed to whatever God or higher being was out there that there was something to gawk at.

You ducked out behind him and went out of the church. The sky was already dark and it made you wonder how long you were looking for that damn photo. You practically sprinted across the yard, your hands placed firmly in the jacket’s pockets. Both John and Jacob watched you leave, but Jacob was a whole other story. His blue eyes were narrowed as he caught a glimpse of the rectangle-shaped object hidden in your jacket. Fuck, he knew! You looked back again to see him just standing there with his large arms crossed and a small smirk on his lips. Both of your eyes met for a split second as he grabbed something from inside his pocket.

It felt like everything was in slow motion when Jacob held YOUR picture between his fingers. His smirk only got bigger when you bit your lip, trying to resist the urge to attack him. It would look bad, it would look so bad. There was no telling what he was going to do with it.

Jacob slowly reached into another pocket and brought out a small lighter. That son of bitch! He was gonna fucking burn it! He looked up again and held the picture right above the flame, swinging it back and forth like he was teasing you. What hurt the most was the fact that he was dragging it out. You knew he had no intention to burn it. “Please don’t…” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard.

Jacob turned off the lighter, and walked closer to you. You could barely hear his heavy footsteps in the dirt over the sound of your blood pumping rapidly in your ears. “What was that, girl?” His deep voice was laced with that teasing tone, much like John’s. He knew it was making you angry and it only seemed to excite him more. From what you could tell, Jacob enjoyed it when others were at his mercy. It was really inflating his already massive ego, but John still held the record. He liked being the top dog, the Alpha. He liked the control. It was like a game of cat and mouse, it was a hunt.

“Nothing, I’ll just be going.” He seemed pleased with this answer because he stuffed the picture back in his pocket without even saying anything. His eyes flashed that same red that never left your memory. This definitely wasn’t your imagination. Jacob slowly backed away and went back to John, making sure to reach into his pocket as he went.

It was nice to know who had it now. Figures it was fucking Jacob. Haven’t even talked to the guy until now, but it was very evident he was a huge asshole. It wasn't like John where he was very active or hyper. He seemed lazy, very out of tune with his emotions. Jacob Seed was definitely someone you didn’t want to fuck with. Especially when he now had this much power over you. You were basically at his beck and call now. Like a little fucking pet. You just hoped he won’t make you suck his dick for the picture.

------

The ride back to the house was tense, even though you were the only one in the truck. You refused to even turn on the radio now that the Project seemed to be playing their own mixtapes. The only things that ate up the dead silence was your breathing and the chirping of crickets outside.

The drive wasn’t long just across the river and outside Fall’s End. Pop’s house was just down the road from the Cougar’s home field. It was a small place, but it was cozy for only two people. Your old swing set was in the back and what was odd about your yard was the lack of a bunker.

A lot of doomsday nut jobs lived in Hope County and you weren’t one if you didn’t have a bunker. Earl summed it up to just not believing in that bullshit. If God wanted to pull the plug he would have done it a long time ago before things got really bad.

You parked the truck and hopped out, locking the door. You grabbed your duffle bag and headed inside. “Gramps! I’m home!” You called out down the hall to the living room. The lights were off, but the T.V. was on. It was playing a commercial for Sunrise farms. A plump pumpkin mascot jumped around a field, just begging you to come by and pick one.

And right in front of the T.V., in a reclining chair was Gramps. His hat and glasses were set on the table next to him and his uniform was still on. At Least he got his shoes off this time. He practically lived in that uniform. You turned off the T.V. and put a knitted blanket over him. His snores shook the house at this point. You made your way down the hallway, past the many pictures on the wall to your room.

It was still very girly. With peeling boy band posters and an awful canopy bed. You never got around to upgrading it. It was one of the many things on your list that will never get done. Just imagine bringing a boy home to this. No boys in the country really interested you. Pratt was an obvious one. He had this weird thing for Joey, but Joey was very much into girls. It was well known since high school, despite being a few years ahead of you.

You grabbed the book from inside your jacket and tossed it onto the bed. It flopped onto the sheets with a smack directly onto the spine. It opened to a random page that just seemed to call to you. You quickly got changed and dived under the covers. You flipped to the first page but stopped. Should you bring this back after you're done? This was only for research and a good laugh, but it felt wrong to make fun of someone else’s religions. Even if it seemed odd to you.

You just had to know what these people were up to and this book seemed to have the answers. The questions just weren’t asked yet. No one in Hope County wanted to ask. They just wanted to follow blindly. They thought this Project brought them hope and faith, nothing like what their government could give them. When you thought about it, was there really a separation between church and state? The lines between these two were very blurry for most people. The Project was building onto something this county had a lot of. Distrust. They were taking advantage of people’s weaknesses.

But you weren’t swayed easily. Any religion involving John or Jacob Seed was a religion you didn’t want to be a part of, especially with a persuasive and charismatic leader like Joseph.

Maybe this book will help you after all. You had no other option other than reading or joining some crazy religious group.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 18: Noah’s Dad Decides he Doesn’t Love His Son Anymore When Noah Gets Way Too Into Petz Hexing

I was hanging out with Bro and he made me look at a lot of bad Yugi wigs that were 600 dollars each, and because only like...4 good Yugi wigs exist in the world, I decided to help him get out that Yugi itch in a healthier way, by copy editing these posts and fixing the way I spell Gozaburo wrong about 400 more times before this arc ends.

So last we left off, Noah decided to reference that one part of the Bible he knows.

He’s gonna change the playing field to kind of run through the history of the Earth, showing us that in every period of history his outfit was never acceptable.

Also he got the history a...little bit wrong. You had to have people before Noah’s ark but...whatever. I took astrology, there’s a lot about planet formation we’re still kind of guessing on, so do whatever you feel like, Yugioh. It’s not like any kids watching this got real pissy about how Noah was totally botching the Archean period.

He also decides to dump on us how he got so smart. See, Kaiba got smart by studying a lot, surrounding himself with people way dumber than him, and then just bossing everyone around him until they agreed with him that he was very smart. In Noah’s case, it’s because he’s literally a computer.

I’m really glad I get to find another anime that’s all ham about this tree. In this case just slapping it on there for a few seconds, long enough for me to say “WHAT THE HELL, KIDS SHOW?” before it vanishes again.

Good on you, Noah. You just...casually slipped that in there.

Ah, but unfortunately, the AI who is like...not even human and is *pretty sure* He’s Noah Kaiba is still kind of attached to his Dad. Maybe it was a part of his core code that he couldn’t reject his Father? I dunno, just seems weird that he achieved enlightenment and was like “So uh...I guess I’ll play cards and take over a mindless corporation. Good use of my time.”

(read more under the cut)

Kaiba’s reaction to hearing that his brother stores all of human knowledge was “well, it can’t possibly be that difficult. I’ve done way more than that. I have a homeschool degree and half a high school diploma so go to Hell, bro.”

Yo how many people would sit down, turn to their computer, and just start shouting at their core processor about how they’re waaaay smarter than it? Remember that during this entire conversation, Kaiba is shouting at a literal computer.

So anyway, we finally get to see why they bothered showing us spider room a few episodes back. Youknow, that room with the baby in it? Turns out...there was never a baby in this room, since Noah was a kid when he first woke up here.

Before it was covered in spiders, it was covered in blue and off white. This is a very boring Martha Stewart room in different shades of robin eggshell. You can tell this kid is a Kaiba because oh boy that is a...really boring 50 yo housewife look, ain’t it?

I’m sure it’s symbolic for the fact he is hella dead and innocent at this point but like...every time we see Kaiba interior design it’s just the last type of design you expect from this high octane family.

Anyway, Noah’s kind of surprised to be awake because, last he remembers, he was very much hit by a car.

Ya, I mean, if you have to tell your son you Frankenstiened him into a horrible crime against humanity, might as well tell him as quickly and bluntly as possible, I guess.

Anyway, because Noah existing breaks the most basic moral human laws in every country on Earth, they kinda can’t let him go anywhere, which means that to prevent the loneliness, Kaiba gives him...a pet?

So Noah and the dogcat decide to travel through Domino and realized very quickly that there were only like...five NPC’s. There’s like an ice cream girl, and like a couple walking people, and that’s about it.

Noah’s words were something like “man this place is full of glitches!” because his dogcat wouldn’t stop barking and he threw a rock at it and it didn’t care. Glitches.

I guess it’s one way to look at it?

It feels like Noah got somewhat cursed like Pharaoh did, just a little bit. Like not completely it’s just that I can’t help but notice both are trapped in some sort of basic geometry shape--Pharaoh’s is a pyramid and Noah’s is an orb, and both have untold superpowers matched with some heavy depression that goes with having said superpowers. Not to mention, both have a host body all set up for possession, it’s just Kaiba is a little bit youknow...unwilling to participate. They’re very different obviously it’s just...way to trap your characters in shapes.

Anyway, last episode I felt like maybe Noah liked being an orb, this episode he’s made it a little more clear that it is kind of not great being an orb...but only because he can’t throw any rocks at dogs or have real conversations with anyone but his own Dad.

Anyway, Noah got a little bored. So his Dad sent him to virtual Mars.

And now Noah only finds joy in hacking his digital pet. Relatable.

Now I know a good chunk of you are my age--that good Jenna Marbles age--and will know exactly what I am referring to, as for the rest of you, turning your digital pet into a hell creation was just a thing we all did in year 2000ish. All of us did this.

And I was like “I bet you, that someone out there has made a robot Hex, I guarantee” because I spent...I want to say 2 years of my life downloading modded breedz of Catz 4? I even tried to do it myself but I wasn’t any good at it because I was super young and bad at computers, I never actually got Robbie William’s Millennium as a Catz meow (though trust me, I did try. It was my life’s dream when I was small.)

But the closest I found to a Robot Petz was this?

Dang. Look at that thing. This one is actually pretty good because it does resemble an animal. I admire it a lot. Trust me, I spent like days moving my bunniez feet around trying to make a dragon and just ended up downloading someone else's dragon.

And then, from the same page I saw this gem right above it.

HELL YES........

....I freakin love this period of the internet so freakin much. I was only ever really a part of a couple of fandoms as a child and the Petz fandom will forever hold a little part of my heart. I mean, look at this. What’s not to love?

Like, Catz is probably number 3 on my list of best games ever made. Not so much because the game was any good, but because none of the files were protected in any way so even kids like me could hack in there and make the weirdest abominations and post them all to their Angelfire pages.

Well, other kids could, I was so baby that I was still using my Mom’s email address and did not know how to put a damn thing on my webpage. Which I did have. But it had like...only frames. It had like 3 words and just me splitting the page into 50 frames because I did not know what I was doing.

I apologize to all the kids in the room who have never seen a web page covered in ugly ass frames. You lucky bastards.

....but Petz...Noah was into PETZ. I can respect him for that.

I still think he’s a little creep-o, but knowing that he hacked his pet has given me a lot of appreciation for his work.

Anyway, it was after Noah changed the boring ass simpleton dog into a much better dog that Gozoboro decided “I have made a monster, I am abandoning my boy.” Which uh...this was the thing?

This?

I mean as far as body horror goes, Litterbox up there is way worse. As far as body horror goes, we also have, Jinzo over here, but the digital dog with a cute robot head was the thing that made Gozoboro say “What have I done!?” The dog is digital, it’s not even alive.

Especially since I feel like the follow up question Noah made was like way more frightening than the dog thing?

Kaiba glazes right over this entire conversation. Like full stop, he didn’t even seem to blink. No part of this story even slightly surprised him, although I will admit, at least Seto has decided that Noah...exists and might in fact be a robot his Father made once. This in itself is a big deal for Kaiba, who has a goldfish memory and denial wider than the sea he’s trapped under.

First of all, congrats to the storyboarder/animator for drawing a hand in that angle, mad respect.

Second of all, this is pretty close to the actual line from the show, Kaiba legit thinks that his Dad wanted Kaiba to be the president, after he knows full well that his Dad was like “Don’t Take Over My Company, You Little Twerp” and then like tried to even send Seto back to the orphanage whence he came. Kaiba’s pretty sure that his Dad wanted that whole thing to happen exactly the way it happened. No regrets. Just family being family.

And Moki’s still chilling on the Moki couch, just kinda taking this all in before he’s summoned unto the field like a playing card.

Ah, yet another person who is like “KILL MEEE” on this show. It’s been kind of a while. Like, who’s left that hasn’t stood in front of a loaded card-gun like this? Duke? Is Duke the only one who hasn’t sacrificed his body for the greater card-good at this point? Is this why Duke is our amoral Chaotic Neutral? Is this why Duke is still the only one who hasn’t died yet (and I’m crossing my fingers still that he’s gonna be our death 169, it can happen, I can believe)?

I feel like this is the season of weird hugs. Like everyone on this show that has hugged has gotten a little weird. The only not-weird hug was when Yugi attempted to hug Joey once and then Joey dodged the hug and wrestled him into an arm-distanced noogie instead--which is technically still not a hug, but the closest we’ve gotten to something a human would do. It is so lucky for our art team that all the huggers are supposed to be hella weird anyway.

Anyway, next episode we get to find out if Noah also had an AIM username or got really into Jelly pens. I can see him getting suuuper into Jelly pens, with hair like that.

Anyway, here’s a link to Season 1 Ep 1 to read in Chrono order, in case you just got here and you’re looking for that.

[the-book-of-sims]

“I’m officially in my third trimester! I want to say this has been my easiest pregnancy yet, but I’m afraid I’ll jinx it.

Life has been going incredibly well lately! First, Zachary and his mother ended up accepting Jesus Christ as their savior that night! Our boys are pretty close friends now and even after Zachary's grounding ended, he still comes over for play dates after school. It still shocks me how something so awful grew into something so beautiful... It just all goes back to Romans 8:28! Second, Joey has been doing so well in school that his teachers asked if he could take time after school to help tutor his classmates! I’m forever amazed with how quick Joey is to pick up on things… Maybe we have a genius in our midst? Lastly, Scott’s been promoted to lead detective and got a huge bonus! There aren’t enough words to express how proud I am of my Lancaster men...” -Catherine

Trigger Warning, just in case! This is a fairly long story part, which includes my belief in God. I understand if you rather not read this, remember that you’re never obligated to! Thank you for your time. ❤️ -Brittany

"God’s been blessing me so much lately… However, I’m not going to lie and say that the nightmares have stopped or pretend that I haven’t had panic attacks in ages... They still happen, but... I’m at peace.

Like Psalm 23:4 says, ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.’ God’s been with me every step of the way. Every time I struggle or feel depressed, He sends a blessing my way to remind me that I’m not alone… I forget sometimes, but whenever I open my bible and find myself staring at that verse… It just reminds me of all the times God’s answered my prayers and cries for help. He’s El Roi. He’s the God who sees me and my struggles… And He’s forever faithful to His promise shown in Matthew 11:28, ‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ I can testify that God surely has given me that peace, comfort, and rest.

It’s strange, of all the years I’ve gone to church and read God’s Word, I’ve never really noticed those verses before. I guess you could say I’ve lived a happy life, and never really needed comfort or peace. I even took extra classes I didn’t need for my degree just to learn more about people and how to encourage or comfort them. Now I’m here needing the very same encouragement and comfort!

It wasn’t until Scott shared those verses with me that I’ve finally felt peace in my heart again… And I’m so thankful...” ❤️ -Catherine

[aringabrielmoved]

The Night We Met - Chapter 1

(This fic is my baby and I finally got on desktop to post it full on tumblr, it’s under a read more because it’s about...5,000 words, enjoy! -Arin)

She was beautiful, or at least what Joseph was told beautiful was supposed to look like. She had long hair, wide eyes, modest clothing, and a cross necklace to put the cherry on top. She was perfect. Though Joseph's definition of perfect was based upon the checklist of things required for his parents’ approval.

Needless to say, she checked all the boxes, so this must have been what love felt like.

Joseph was always jealous when he saw couples, jealous of the boys for fitting in, but jealous of the girls too. He couldn't put a finger on why he would be, why he sometimes imagined himself in their spot with an arm slung across his shoulders, but it couldn't have been a good reason. So he shut up about it.

His friends from bible study were happy while talking about their dates, how pretty they looked in a dress, how they couldn't wait to slow dance. The other boys already had dates to prom with girls they had their sights set on for years, but Joseph's parents always told him he would feel it when the right one came along.

She was a girl, she was from a religious family, she looked at him fondly, and the butterflies in his stomach must have been that feeling his parents were talking about. He felt more sick to his stomach the closer he got to her, but this was the only chance he would have to ask.

She was fumbling with something in her locker when Joseph finally worked up the nerve to stand next to her, his throat closing up a little when he went to get her attention. “Hey, hello- Mary, right?” Joseph twiddled his thumbs while he waited for Mary to look up at him. He felt nervous, was he supposed to be this nervous?

Mary looked up from the mess she had been digging through in her locker, a quizzical look on her face. “Joseph, Christiansen, right? Your family practically runs the church.” She went back to searching, evidently not noticing that Joseph's heart was pounding in his chest as he hoped for acceptance and approval from her.

Love felt like this right? The nervous jitters and the racing heart? It had to be that.

Joseph carefully leaned on the locker next to hers, putting on an unconvincing smile that he was glad Mary wasn't focused on. “Yeah, that's me and-“ He stopped and took a breath trying to force his throat open. He needed to do this. “I was wondering if you would like to go to prom with me, if you don't have a date yet?”

The question felt foreign to his mouth, which was dry when Mary looked up at him in complete silence for a few less than comfortable seconds. “Me? Go to prom with you?” Mary certainly looked shocked, and Joseph was too busy freaking out to figure out why.

Joseph nodded in affirmation, not trusting himself to speak again. Mary shrugged and pulled a few loose papers out along with a folder. “Well, sailor, it's your lucky day, find my book in that mess and you've got yourself a date.” Joseph stood speechless for a moment before stepping in front of her locker and pulling out a book after a solid minute of searching.

Mary smiled as she snatched the book from his hands and kicked her locker shut gracefully. With her folders and book in one hand, she used her other to blow a kiss in Joseph's direction, giggling when his face took a light pink tint. “I'll see you Saturday, Joseph.”

Joseph opened his mouth to speak but quickly snapped it shut again while he watched Mary walk away. He couldn't figure out why Mary was exaggerating the sway of her hips. At least his parents would stop bugging him now, and all his friends.

So, huh, that’s what dating was like. Weird.

At least Mary seemed cool.

-xxxxx-

Of course, his parents were pleased. He played it up, told them all about how pretty she was, how excited he was to wear a suit and escort her to prom. Was he supposed to have to play it up? Probably. His parents liked it. They even promised to let him take the car to pick her up with no hesitation after meeting her.

His mom had always been eager, pestering him about finding a nice girl to settle down with. She also liked to point out all the cute little grandchildren she expected when Joseph finished college. The thought left Joseph a little unsettled, especially when he hadn't spent much time thinking about Mary in that way.

His father gave him a firm pat on the back and some congratulations, asking all about how it felt to finally find the woman of his dreams. It was overwhelming, trying to look at Mary as his one and only. They had interacted in the past, been in the same classes, he liked her.

But to think about marrying her? To think about having kids with her? That was a lot. The thought of settling down with her made his stomach churn just a little. They would be more like- roommates. Joseph grinned at the thought of having a roommate like Mary, she was fun.

The sound of car keys jangling in front of his face snapped him away from his thoughts for the future, his father standing tall, but with a soft smile Joseph hadn't seen in years. “Be careful with the car, Jo, and be back no later than midnight.” Joseph smoothed his tux nervously when he realized it was time to leave.

Man, he wished he didn't feel like he was swimming in his clothes. He actually filled the suit out pretty well, he didn't look too bad, but his sleeves were a little too long and he caught himself stretching to keep his wrists at the edge of the fabric where they belonged. He took a deep breath before snatching the keys from his father's hand.

“You treat that pretty lady right, Joseph, get her home safe.” Joseph smiled and nodded, staring at the pretty red flower corsage in his other hand. His mother shot him a knowing look, and it eased his nerves a bit. He hoped his eyes conveyed a silent thank you as he closed the door and headed towards the car.

This was it, time to make a good impression.

The car sputtered to life as Joseph took off down the road, making the short drive to Mary's house. He wished it were longer. Before he knew it he was out of the car and at the front step, his heart beating out of his chest while his hand hovered in front of the door. He knocked firmly and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Mary's father answered the door and gave him a quick once over before motioning him inside. Their house was cozy, warm colored, and it looked lived in. Mary's mom fiddled with a polaroid camera on the couch, but she looked up to wave at Joseph. “Mary! Joseph is here for you.”

Joseph expected Mary to come down the stairs from her room, but instead he heard a noise from the kitchen that sounded like a muffled, “Coming!” before Mary shot into the living room. She had obviously just finished shoving food in her mouth. Joseph couldn’t help but laugh softly at how full her mouth was before she swallowed. “No one wants prom food, Joey.” Joseph visibly cringed at the nickname.

Mary smiled as she cleaned up the edges of her lipstick with her finger, brushing some crumbs from her dress- a simple black one with nothing too fancy. “Your dress is…pretty.” It was pretty, really contrasted with her well done makeup. Joseph was suddenly glad he had gone with a red corsage on a whim, it would match well.

Joseph realized he was probably supposed to be smoother than that, tell her she looked beautiful, but Mary just walked closer and held her wrist out, accepting the corsage. “Good man.” Mary gave him a pat on the shoulder and grabbed him by the hand, turning for the door.

“Mary, wait, let me get a picture or two before you go!” An ugly, yet endearing groan from Mary made Joseph giggle to himself as they turned back around. “Don't huff at me, missy, senior prom only happens once in your life.” Mary out on her best fake smile and Joseph's sputtering laughter finally erupted into the room.

Now Mary's lip was twitching, a real smile forming as she caught Joseph's contagious laughter staring over at him and forgetting about the old polaroid her mom was holding until the flash lit as she made a gross snorting sound and leaned against Joseph's shoulder. Sweet heaven above, that was probably an unflattering picture.

When they finally calmed themselves, Mary looked at him with a smile and the sound of another picture snapped. The first was already starting to gain color, and her mother was scrawling something on the white space at the bottom. “I know cameras are going digital, but I think these are better.”

Mary's mother smiled as she stared at the picture of the couple laughing together. Then she motioned Joseph over, handing him the photo as Mary stared at it over his shoulder. Mary looked hysterical in the photo, her hair sticking up just a little, and Joseph was doubled over a bit, leaning to the side with Mary on his shoulder.

The bottom had the simple description “PROM 1995” in her mother's graceful hand writing. He pocketed the photo after staring for a while with a smile. Maybe this was love, laughing together, feeling this happy. He patted his pocket and then took Mary's hand in his again. Her father gave him a telling look, but he still held a smile on his face after observing their photo.

“I'll have her back home safe; you can count on it.” Joseph shot a wink at the man and then immediately regretted it when her father tilted his head in confusion. “I- sorry, I really will have her home before midnight.” The man laughed and waved them off, a silent signal for them to leave and go have fun.

While they walked out to the car they were silent, and Joseph focused on the way it felt to hold Mary's hand. It was soft, maybe she had put lotion on them. He didn't hold too tightly, but her hand felt small, and her fingernails were well manicured. It wasn't bad, Mary seemed happy, but Joseph felt awkward.

He opened the passengers side for her first before walking to the other side to get in himself. A whiff of Mary's perfume hit his nose after the door latched shut, making him feel lightheaded for a moment. It wasn't dark and musky like the cologne a lot of guys filled locker rooms with. It was light and fruity. It made his nose tickle.

“We heading out anytime soon, or are you gonna sit there, day dreaming?” Mary giggled when Joseph's face went red, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “I don't mind either way, you've got a pretty daydreaming face.” Joseph laughed nervously before finally jamming the key in and starting the car.

“Right, Prom.” Joseph nodded and focused on the road, taking a deep breath as they pulled out of Mary's driveway.

Mary stared at him as they drove off, a smile on her face. “Yes, Prom.” Mary turned on the radio, seeming comfortable with ending the conversation.

-xxxxx-

They pulled into the parking lot a little late, considering that there were almost no free spots to park. Joseph was praying that no one hit off a mirror while leaving the crowded lot later tonight. Mary didn't seem concerned about that, hopping out and running to a few of her friends who were waiting for her by the door.

He suddenly felt a lot more nervous when he realized that he hadn’t even told any friends that he would be here. What if Mary got bored with him and he had no one to hang out with? Joseph didn’t want to be that sad kid lurking around the punch bowl and pretending to wait for his date to come back from the bathroom. He was worrying too much- Mary was waving him over.

Joseph could hear whispers and giggles from Mary's friends when he caught up. “You're really here with Joseph Christiansen, I can't believe it!” He couldn't tell if they were surprised in a good way or a bad way. “Isn't he a little…uptight for you?” What did that mean? He felt like he wasn't supposed to be listening.

He really hadn’t told anyone he was going to prom, or who he was going with, but he hadn't really thought it was a big deal. Apparently who you took to prom was very important. So important that Mary and her friends continued talking about it while they walked inside. Was this girl talk? Was he not allowed to be involved in girl talk?

His eyes wandered around the room as he waited for the conversation to end. He spotted a punch bowl, some strange balloon structures, a large crowd of people milling around on the dance floor. Of course, no one really danced usually, not at any high school function.

Usually, high school dances consisted of at least one girl crying and running out of the school to start next week’s drama, and least one obviously stoned guy trying to pick up chicks and failing miserably, and at least one corner of mopey, depressed outcasts talking about their brooding pasts and how glad they were that ‘that one guy’ didn’t show up. This time it was a little different.

It was prom after all.

A group of guys who had come without dates were messing around at a table in the corner of the hall, laughing and hitting on girls who walked by without dates. A few girls were gossiping in a circle on the floor, looking awfully casual for their fancy, frilly dresses.

Didn’t they pay a lot of money for those? Aren’t their parents going to be mad when they come home at midnight with dirt all over their fancy dresses and no prom pictures? Maybe Joseph just didn’t understand prom politics.

The music playing was too fast for slow dancing, but a few couples were dancing close together. Most of them looked happy, certainly awkward, but happy. Two guys who looked like really close friends were sitting next to the water fountain, looking nervous with their hands close enough to touch between them.

Joseph couldn't help but stare at the two sitting there in form fitting suits of contrasted color, smiling, not speaking, but looking happy. Joseph was lost in their smiles, they were lost in each other's eyes, and he couldn't remember ever feeling that happy with someone else.

A firm hand from Mary landed on his shoulder and made him turn away from the two boys with a confused look on her face. “You know it's not polite to stare, right?” The two picked up their hands when they realized someone had been staring. “They're trying not to get kicked out, people aren't the most accepting around here.”

A moment of realization washed over him and he nodded, looking back at Mary. He must have looked afraid. “Don't be scared of what you don't understand, Joseph.” Mary looked like her mother for a brief second, all authority and knowledge. It was admirable.

Joseph wondered sometimes if he would ever end up like his father, a stern voice and a stare that put fear into the eyes of others. He didn’t really want to be that. He shook his mind of the thought, realizing that his eyes were wandering back to the two boys.

One of the boys pressed a quick kiss to the other's cheek when he thought no one was looking. Joseph was looking. Joseph felt something warm and tingly in his chest. “I think I understand, Mary.” There was something magical about that. He wasn't sure his parents would regard the display of affection so kindly.

The two were laughing softly, blush rising to their cheeks as they scooted apart from each other just a little bit again, trying not to arouse suspicion. Man, it sucked that they had to hide and everyone else was allowed to be mushy and gross. Joseph was pretty sure he had seen a guy and a girl making out against a wall when they had come in.

Mary and Joseph watched just a few seconds longer, a pleasant smile on both of their faces before they made their way to the crowded floor where the music played the loudest. He was reluctant at first to really move, but it only took an upbeat song and Mary's encouragement to get him swaying to the beat just a little.

They probably looked dumb, they were certainly moving more than everyone else, but a few giggles from Mary and Joseph was moving even more, grabbing her hand and spinning her around while a few people giggled around them. They were holding hands now, swinging their arms a little.

Bouncing to the high-tempo music was effortless and left them feeling light on their feet. A few couples had joined them and smiled in their direction. Mary twirled her dress around a little and fell back against Joseph's chest, smiling up at him. They laughed again as the song faded out.

A toothy grin was plastered on Joseph's face as Mary spun back around. “Are you having fun?” Mary only giggled as she shimmied a little more, catching the attention of a few boys around the room. A few of the girls pulled their dates attention away from Mary. Joseph figured that he should probably be jealous too, but he didn’t have time to think about it before he was spinning and Mary was laughing at him.

He felt a little dizzy, and he was trying not to fall over, but Mary seemed amused. “Are you kidding me, I thought you’d be a straight-laced little church boy!” Mary was yelling over the music, a smirk on her face as Joseph regained his balance. The amount of staring in their direction dropped dramatically as the song they were dancing to faded. “You aren’t too bad, sailor.”

Joseph sighed, clearing his throat softly as the next song started. Gosh, dancing in a crowded room in a slightly-too-big tux was an easy way to get sweaty. “So, is this the part- like in the movies- where I go to get us punch and I come back and you’re with another guy?” Mary pulled another laugh-snort like the one she had earlier, covering her face and looking a little embarrassed.

Joseph starting moving away from the designated dance space and noticed that Mary was following once she collected herself again. “Nah, I don’t think you have to worry about that.” Mary gracefully wiped an attractive sweat mustache from her upper lip. Classy. “But how do I know that I don’t have to worry about you picking up guys at the punch bowl, Jo, I think it’s best if I come with you.”

Joseph sputtered just a little, and he could feel the tips of his ears turning red hot as his blush began to betray him. “Why would I-“ Oh, a joke. Mary gave him a pat on the back as they approached the punch bowl, which was admittedly sad compared to the giant fancy ones you usually saw in the movies. It looked like glorified Kool-Aid, but he still managed to awkwardly scoop enough into a cup to hand to Mary and then one for himself.

The face he saw Mary make when she took the first sip was not promising, but she seemed to get it down. “Is it that bad?” Joseph’s eyes widened as Mary tilted her head back and chugged the rest of it as quickly as possible, slamming the plastic cup back on the table and wiping her mouth. He took a sip and immediately spit it back into the cup he was holding, his tongue stuck out awkwardly as he tried to get the taste out of his mouth. It was worse than Kool-Aid. It was like watered down Kool-Aid with not enough sugar, at least three conflicting flavors, and it was lukewarm. How in the world did Mary keep that down? Joseph tried not to gag as he struggled to get the taste off of his tongue. “That’s- it’s really bad.”

Mary was laughing at him again, but she was nice enough to take his cup and casually pour in into the trash while no one was looking. “It’s only tolerable if you chug it all at once, and you take tiny sips, Jo.” Joseph was going to argue until he realized that he did, in fact, take tiny sips. He was still a little amazed by how fast Mary managed to drink hers.

Somehow, Mary downed another half a cup of the awful drink while Joseph watched with slight disgust, but an abrupt lighting change on the dance floor stole his attention. Mary turned to him, pointing to the dance floor with a mouth full of awful punch that she tried not to spit out. She quickly swallowed before grabbing Joseph by the wrist and tugging him back to the floor. “What exactly are we doing, Mary?”

“Slow dancing, Joseph, it’s one of those things you have to do at prom.” Joseph noticed the couples around them getting closer, and he awkwardly waited for Mary to drag his hands to her waist where they belonged. It felt strange, to be in such close contact with another person, something other than a hug or a handshake, but everyone here looked awkward.

Mary, at least, could easily reach his shoulders. Some of the pairs of shorter girls and taller guys were having trouble looking comfortable. One of the jocks was with an especially tiny cheerleader who looked more like she was awkwardly hugging her date than dancing.

Joseph couldn’t really bring himself to look into Mary’s eyes like some couples seemed to be, he instead focused on anything else. The gross punch bowl, people were drinking from it and gagging. The guys leaning on each other by the water fountain, it was sad they couldn’t dance with everyone else comfortably. The bathroom, someone just ran out of it crying.

They made slow dancing look so romantic in the movies, too.

Then he was back at Mary, who was smiling up at him awkwardly and occasionally glancing over at her friend who was near them. And Joseph didn’t mind Mary’s company, he didn’t hate the warmth of Mary’s hands on his shoulders, but he didn’t know what to do with himself. So he ended up wishing the song would end sooner.

Joseph would have been okay with just silly, fast dancing all night, and he certainly wasn’t about to kiss Mary any time soon. Instead, he successfully stepped on Mary’s shoe a few times and they got a barrage of dirty looks when they started giggling every time they messed up.

“Maybe we stick with the fast dancing for now?” Joseph sighed and parted from Mary with a nervous sort of look on his face when the music ended and faded back into something upbeat.

A mischievous grin found its way to her face as she began moving just a little bit, gaining Joseph’s attention. “I’d love nothing more.”

-xxxxx-

“Hey, loser, leave your back pack, we’re ditching.” Joseph nearly dropped the book he was holding when he looked up from his feet to see Mary standing on his porch, holding something behind her back. She had a pair of high-waisted shorts, a plain white shirt, and an oversized, god-awful jacket with colors that did not mix. Some neon green, pink, purple- a catastrophe. And the material.

Sometimes Joseph was glad that he wore plain, boring colors. Mary still, however, managed pull it off.

Mary only continued to smile back at Joseph, who closed the door slowly and kept his back pack on. “Why are we ditching, Mary, I can’t ditch.” Joseph already seemed to be panicking, nervously rolling his bottom lip between his teeth and thinking about what work he would miss, what excuse he could give…what if his parents found out?

A gentle hand was on his shoulder and he let his paranoid thoughts be interrupted briefly. Mary looked concerned. “Whoa there, church boy, don’t malfunction.” Mary sat down the basket that she had been hiding behind her back and pulled out a bottle of water to hand to Joseph. Joseph reluctantly let her take the book from his tight grip. “I’m willing to bet you haven’t skipped a day of school in your life, so one will not hurt.”

Joseph managed to chug half the bottle of water in one go before handing it back to Mary and wiping the condensation that it left on his hands on his khakis. He looked down at the few darker damp spots that he left on his pants and frowned. “I guess you have a point- but where exactly are we going?” Joseph crossed his arms in what looked like an attempt to be intimidating, but Mary just laughed and took his hand anyway when he gave up trying to fight back, leading him in the opposite direction of the school.

He thought Mary would explain to him once they started moving, but she stayed silent, a sly little grin on her face as they walked. Joseph stared over every few seconds waiting for Mary to crack and let him know where they were headed, but instead she kept on staring straight ahead. There was certainly a bounce of impatience in Joseph’s step. “Are we going somewhere we’re not supposed to be?”

Mary stifled a laugh and made a right that took them further away from town. “We’re ditching, we’re not supposed to be anywhere.” She could feel the way that Joseph tensed up with guilt when he heard that. Wow, the kid needed some good old fashion rebellion in his life. “And no, Jo, it’s not illegal or anything.”

Joseph took a deep breath and resituated his back pack, staring at the basket Mary was carrying and mulling over his options in his head. He could turn around now, tell Mary that he needed to go to school and stop breaking the rules, she would probably just laugh and say something like ‘suit yourself, sailor’ and he would trudge into school 5 minutes late with his face flushed red and the equivalent of a slap on the wrist from his teachers.

He could go back home and fake sickness, easily get babied by his parents, safely sleep the day away without the fear of getting into whatever Mary was getting him into, but Mary’s smile was intriguing him more by the second, her excitement rubbing off on him.

So, he could go home, he could rush to class, but did he want to anymore? Joseph Christiansen, 18 year old, good Christian poster boy, pretty eyes, pretty hair, pretty everything. Clean cut, innocent, never-done-anything-wrong-in-his-life Christiansen. Was he allowed to venture further than that?

“Joseph?” Mary squeezed his hand tight to gain back his attention, her eyebrows raised with skepticism at how lost Jo seemed in his thoughts. They had walked father than he thought while he was contemplating his life. Shoot.

“The forest?” Joseph stared into the mass of trees that they were in front of, then back at Mary. It was intimidating, but surprisingly beautiful, and Mary seemed to know her way around. “Do you come here a lot?” Mary giggled and lead Joseph to a narrow path that wound through the woods, watching him swat flies away and freak out when they got anywhere near his face.

Joseph almost tripped and fell as they climbed over a fallen tree, and he started spitting everywhere because he got a leaf in his mouth. Mary was just shaking her head as she pulled a few leaves out of her hair, looking out in search of the spot she usually went to. “I come out here when I need to get away from my parents- or my work and shit.” Mary giggled at the little gasp Joseph made when she swore. Such a little church boy. “I come out here a lot, Joseph, I know where we’re going.”

Not very far away, Joseph could see a glimpse of blue, a river maybe? That would be pretty, sitting by the water, wasting the day away…he could see the river now, it was bigger than it looked from afar, and the water was rolling along gently. He jumped a little when Mary dropped the basket a few feet away from the edge of the river. “This is… really pretty, Mary.” Joseph smiled as he looked at the plants scattered along the water, the way the water flowed over and around rocks. It was peaceful.

When Joseph looked back, there was a red blanket laid out and an open picnic basket in the middle, some sandwiches and other snacks that Mary had thrown together. She looked a little happier than normal. “This is the first and last time I willingly make you a sandwich, so you better enjoy it.” Mary snickered and shoved her own sandwich in her mouth, motioning for Joseph to sit down. He did, but he seemed to still be entranced by the water.

“Is there a reason you brought me here? It seems like a special place to you…” Joseph looked down at his shirt a ran his hands over a few spots in an attempt to smooth out the creases. He had a feeling he was supposed to look nice for some reason. A special occasion? Nevertheless, he started eating his sandwich as well as his gaze switched between Mary and the water.

Mary shrugged as she took a large swig from her bottle of water, looking down at her half eaten sandwich with a tiny grin that she was trying to hide. “You’re a cool guy, and even though you’re kind of…prude and goody-two-shoes,” Mary was a little red in the face, but she cleared her throat and drank some more water. This guy was so out of her league, he didn’t even want her. “I wanted to get to know you better, away from my parents and school.”

Joseph looked confused for a moment before his face started flushing pink with realization. This was a move from Mary, it was her showing interest. “Oh!” He shifted uncomfortably and tried to look away, but he realized he was probably supposed to reply with something greater than ‘oh.’ His mouth felt a little dry. “You uh- me?” Joseph meant to say something along the lines of, ‘you’re really interested in me?’ but he didn’t really know what to do with that information.

The air was a little tense as silence loomed over them, only the sound of rushing water and birds chirping in the background. Joseph was beginning to wonder if they were supposed to be silent right now. Did that mean something? Was he supposed to do something? He was supposed to do something wasn’t he. His eyes were darting around frantically searching for something when Mary’s hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. That’s what he was supposed to do. Right.

The sudden press of Mary’s lips against his was enough shock to keep his eyes open for a few seconds longer than they were supposed to be, before he realized they were kissing. Because Mary wanted to kiss him. Because they should kiss, right?

Joseph followed the movement of Mary’s lips with his own for a few seconds before they parted, a dazed and confused look on their faces. (Certainly more-so on Joseph’s) Is that what kissing felt like? It was just a different type of contact, skin against skin, but in a different way. But it was supposed to be intimate, right? It felt more… cold than that. Joseph had no idea what kissing was supposed to be like.

Mary was smiling.

Joseph just nodded.

This was… dating then. Kissing.

Weird.

[johnhardinsawyer]

The Only Label that Matters

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

10 / 8 / 17

 Philippians 3:4b-14

Matthew 3:13-17

 “The Only Label That Matters”

(How Do You Self-Identify?)

Well, it’s been a sad week in our community.  The TCBY store on South River Road has closed.  That’s right – the store that claimed to sell “The Country’s Best Yogurt” is no longer selling anything.  Just so you know, TCBY was not named “The Best” by any official yogurt-making or yogurt-tasting groups.  Nor was there any official nation-wide proclamation in which someone spoke for the entire country, declaring that TCBY was “The Best.”  Nope.  They gave themselves the title.  According to the “Fount of All Knowledge,” known as Wikipedia, TCBY used to stand for “This Can’t Be Yogurt,” but – because of a lawsuit – they had to change it. So, they went big and self-identified as the place that sells “The Country’s Best Yogurt.”[1]  It’s funny, sometimes, the way we label ourselves. . .

If you were asked to label yourself, based on who you think you are or who society says you are, how would you self-identify?  You might not start by saying that you are “The Country’s Best ‘Whatever’,” but you might say something about who your family is, what your ethnic background may be, where you are from, where you went to school, or what you do for a living.  Labels like this can be helpful, sometimes – they can help us understand a little bit about one another.  Someone might self-identify as a doctor or a teacher or a lobster fisherman, but they might also be a mother or a father, a poet or a veteran, or a barbecue master or a world-champion juggler.  You can put big stock into the labels that define you, but most of us are way more than any one label.

The Apostle Paul had a whole list of labels that could have defined him.  In fact, he gives that list in today’s reading from his letter to the Philippians. Paul had quite a pedigree:  he was from a religious family, descended from the small – but fierce – tribe of Benjamin (who could trace their roots all the way back to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob).  He was a religious leader in the Jewish faith and followed every letter of the law of Moses.  He was so passionate about following the law that he had even oppressed and pursued and imprisoned people whose beliefs were not up to snuff, religiously speaking.  To people within the Jewish faith – of a certain, strict persuasion – Paul was a really good person.  He was “blameless, without fault.”[2]  (Philippians 3:4b-6)  Paul very well could have been labeled “One of the Country’s Best Jews.”  He might have even given himself that label from time to time.

Paul had every reason to boast and be confident because of his status – the labels he had received by checking all of the right boxes, religiously and socially speaking. . .  But then Paul met Jesus, and Paul came to the realization that all of the things which had seemed so valuable and important to him didn’t add up to a hill of beans.  The word that polite Bible translators use to describe all of the things that had previously given Paul’s life meaning is the word “rubbish.”  But in the original language, the word that Paul uses here is the word for the kind of stuff that gets thrown out in a bag of dirty diapers, or scooped out of the kitty litter, or picked up by a dog walker whose dog makes a “deposit” on someone’s lawn.[3] 

“[W]hatever gains I had [because of my social status],” Paul writes, “these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ.  More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.  For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish – skubalon – in order that I may gain Christ.”  (3:7-8) 

“So you can take my family name,” Paul is saying here, “all of my awards and advanced degrees, my reputation, all my years of thinking that I was doing the right thing – and you can throw them out the window.  Because none of that stuff is important to me any longer.  In fact, when I think about it, all of the time and energy I spent on all of that stuff embarrasses me now.  It offends me.  I have gladly thrown it away because compared to knowing Jesus, all of that other stuff doesn’t matter anymore.  I have put it behind me.”

I am sure that there were some things that Paul wanted to put behind him – some labels he wanted to remove from his past.  At one point, back when Paul was known as “Saul” – he had stood by and watched as some people were killing a man named Stephen. The scriptures tell us that Saul held their coats and approved of what they were doing because Stephen was a follower of Jesus.[4]  Saul felt he was justified, but really, he was an accessory to murder.

There are those who self-identify in certain ways – those who hide behind their labels and will sometimes use those labels as a defense. People self-identify as being part of one group or another and use that to justify all kinds of things – even violence.

A few years ago, a young man named Jason was passed over for a job down in Virginia.  He became convinced that this had happened because he was a white male and then he read some things on the internet and became further-convinced that the white race is somehow being targeted for genocide.  This is not true – not in the slightest – but the labels that Jason used on himself made it feel true.  And in this day and age, “feeling” is often wrongly equated with “truth.”  Jason says that he is not a white supremacist.  He’s just pro-white.[5]  He claims there is a difference between the two.  But sometimes the labels we place on ourselves don’t have clearly defined edges. One label can slowly bleed into another without us knowing.  Anyway, Jason organized a rally for white people in his hometown of Charlottesville at which people were hurt and a woman was killed.  He says all of this is someone else’s fault – the fault of black people and women.

Sometimes, our labels become our idols and we worship them. We even make sacrifices to them, as if the ways we self-identify somehow give us power.  The Bible has more than a few things to say about idolatry, but Paul sums it up in one word:  “Rubbish!” Because there is only one true God who exists and only one true label that matters.  It is only by God’s grace that we come to know this.  I hope and pray that Jason will come to know it.

In today’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus went to be baptized.  He didn’t self-identify as the “Messiah” or “Son of God” when he went, though.  John the Baptizer knew who Jesus was and would have prevented him, saying “I need to be baptized by you [Jesus]. . .” (Matthew 3:14) But Jesus insisted, and he humbled himself, and was baptized by John in the Jordan River.  As the story goes,

When Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.  And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  (3:16-17) 

“This is my child.  I love him.  I am pleased with him.”

When someone comes to be baptized, we believe that they are marked with a sign – a label, if you will.  And this label from God reads, simply.  “This is my child.  I love them. I am pleased with them.”  This holy label is permanent.  It is a mark that won’t come off in the wash and there is nothing that will completely cover it up.  This mark is, in large part, invisible most of the time.  There are times when it becomes faint or worn, times when we forget about it, but it is always there.  

Many of you probably know the story of how Paul, back when he was known as Saul was going along the road to Damascus, on his way to arrest some followers of Jesus – and how, suddenly, he saw a bright light and a voice said, “Saul!  Why do you persecute me?”  (Acts 9:4) In that moment, something within Saul changed – he realized that everything he had been doing against the church of Jesus was wrong.  He also realized that even though he had been a sinner his whole life, Jesus still loved him. He became aware of God’s grace for the first time.  When Saul – completely blinded by his experience on the road – finally arrived in Damascus, he regained his sight and he was baptized.  After years of thinking that he belonged to God based on who his family was or how much he thought he was doing to be faithful, in his baptism, Saul found that all of the old labels no longer mattered.  God had wiped them away and had given him a new label – a label of love and light and hope and peace and healing and forgiveness and reconciliation. God had given him a new identity – a new way to self-identify:  “I am God’s child.  God loves me. God is pleased with me.”

Because of this grace, from then on, Paul only wanted to know Jesus.  He gave his life to Jesus and this is what defined him.  This is the label that he wore – the sign to the world that this, and only this, was the label that mattered.  “Christ Jesus has made me his own,” Paul says in today’s reading. (Philippians 3:12)  “And I am going to live the rest of my life trying to embrace this label – this new identity.  I will press on until the end because the end will be glorious.”  Paul didn’t always get it right.  He knew that he was a sinner and that he fell short all the time, but he knew that Jesus loved him even when he did fall short.  This is the kind of grace that we receive when we belong to God.  If only we could be this gracious with one another.

The first time I remember reading today’s passage from Philippians, I was in a dorm room with a group of guys for a college Bible study.  We spent a lot of time talking about how Paul used the word skubalon for “poop,” and we thought that was awesome (and hilarious – boys will be boys, after all).  I was in that Bible study for a whole year and got to know those guys pretty well, but later, one of them (we’ll call him Joey, because that was his name) asked my roommate if I was a Christian.  Thankfully, my roommate said something like, “Joey, you were in a Bible study with John for a long time.  You should know.”  I was hurt. I had thought Joey was my friend. Why would he ask such a question? “Am I a Christian?”  It seems that Joey was using a certain set of theological labels – a certain set of religious boxes to check – to ask, not really if I was a Christian, but if I was his kind of Christian, because to Joey, his kind of Christian was the only real kind.

I was upset about this for quite some time, but then I remembered my baptism.  I remembered that I belong to God, that God loves me, and God is pleased with me.  I also remembered that Joey has been baptized, too.  He belongs to God, God loves him, and God is pleased with him.  Our baptism is something we hold in common.  This label that we share is a bridge that spans the theological divide between us.  Maybe someday, Christians like him and Christians like me can find common ground and meet in the middle of that bridge.  

I’ll close with this. . .  It’s not every day that a preacher has the privilege of preaching on the occasion of his or her own child’s baptism.  This might be my one and only shot at this.  I do not know what kind of person Samuel will grow up to be – what sort of labels will be placed upon him by the world or what sort of labels he will place upon himself.  There are good labels and there are bad labels, after all, and I’m sure that Samuel will have his share of both.  My one hope in the midst of all of this is that he will be taught and he will remember the only label that matters – the sign and seal that he belongs to God, that God loves him, and that God is pleased with him.  No other label matters more than that.

Sisters and brothers, remember:  you, too, belong to God, God loves you, and God is pleased with you.  Christ Jesus has made you his own.  No other label matters more. . .

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

------ 

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/TCBY.

[2] Walter Bauer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Chicago:  University of Chicago Press, 1979) 45.

[3] Bauer, 758.

[4] See Acts 7:54 ff.

[5] https://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/626/white-haze?act=2#play.