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nctsworld · 4 years ago

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reigniting

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

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thejennyeverywhereproject · 2 years ago

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THGJE: Postmortem

I finished this story about six months ago, though it took rather longer to post. It's already kind of weird looking back on it: in the current phase of history, six months feels like forever.

When I started it, I was still in the early stages of processing the overwhelming isolation and panic of the pandemic, and found it difficult to write at all. @ununnilium had started writing a story that was written one sentence at a time, and I decided to do something similar: something that would let me ensure I wrote a short bit of something every day, no matter what.

I'd made a couple attempts at writing something about Jenny Everywhere (including the previous version of this blog) that hadn't gone anywhere. I basically had given up on the whole thing as the concept slowly died away, but, inspired by @aristidetwain and others' work to archive and build on past Jenny Everywhere material, I decided to give it another try.

I literally had no idea what I was doing when I started it off. I threw in bits of things I'd experienced and books I'd read, drawing on a wide variety of literary influences from Moorcock to Dumas to Brecht to radical trans literature like Stone Butch Blues and Sea Witch.

The pieces of the plot and themes gradually fell into place as I worked on this, and it was around the end of act 4 that I finally figured out what the story was about; the Dumasian portion of the story was the most planned and least improvised. I found it stressful to write but rewarding once it was done.

Over the course of the story I've referenced a bunch of other public domain/open source characters and concepts, most of which can be figured out pretty easily from the pdsh and Jenny Everywhere wikis. One exception was Voyage of the Zephyrus, a project that @ununnilium had been working on ages ago, intended to be a kind of vaguely Doctor Who-inspired story world about a dimension-traveling ship whose captain would share the memories of all those who held that post before them. They've been thinking about releasing the stuff they wrote for it as some kind of open-source project.

I didn't really revise the story as I wrote it, as I wanted it to be an unmediated expression of what I was thinking and feeling at the time as much as possible, and worried that if I spent too long to think about it I'd lose momentum as I had for so many other things. Having come out the other end of this, there's a number of things I'd do differently, but I'll let this story to stand as it is as

As I started this, I'd just moved out of the town I'd spent most of my life in and felt the need to redefine myself as a person and a writer. I wrote this to work through new feelings and ideas, to try and deepen my connection to I wrote this out of a very deep desperation and frustration, a prayer for something better in my life and the world. I don't think we're any closer to that, on the surface it seems like we're farther away than ever.

Still... I did manage to finish a long story, which I had thought I couldn't do. Who knows what else might be possible?

I want to thank everyone who's indulged this story, from the small Jenny Everywhere fandom on tumblr to the people on rec.arts.comics.creative. I think we've proven this concept has a future and I'm really excited to see where it's going from here on out.

I also wanted to add more things to the pool for future writers to draw on, so I'll just say the characters who were created for this including Glendalf/Lailoken, ARCHONET and so forth are open source, and people have blanket permission to use ideas and plot elements from this story.

And last but not least:

The character of Jenny Everywhere is available for use by anyone, with only one condition: This paragraph must be included in any publication involving Jenny Everywhere, that others might use this property as they wish. All rights reversed.

Thank you and good night.

#jenny everywhere #thgje

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nerdygaymormon · 3 years ago

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uhhhh david have you gotten the liahona yet bc idk how to feel about an article i found in there yesterday. it was pretty comforting and basic, but did use ssa the whole time. BUT the youth one was pretty crappy, it used ssa to the max and gave no real hope, was pretty bland and annoying about oh itll be find just believe and jesus and get hatecrimed <3 i would like to hear your thoughts on it, its the first time ive seen any queer topics in church magazines

Thanks for bringing these to my attention.

"Same-sex attraction" (SSA) is the preferred term of Church leaders. They say it's a way of not making it your identity, that this isn't part of who I am but rather is something I'm dealing with. In other words, people "have" same-sex attraction, not that they "are" gay or lesbian or bi.

There have been a few leaks from behind-the-scenes where the apostles say they use "same-sex attraction" because it's the term that people like least. People like it less that same-gender attraction or gay/lesbian. SSA includes the word "sex" and I guess the idea is it gets people to think of sexual acts and feel queasy.

SSA is the term normally used in Church magazines because they follow the lead of the First Presidency and apostles.

There's 3 items in the Church magazines this month about queer people! That's a lot for one month.

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The first is a bishop talking about how to understand and include LGBT people at church. After becoming bishop, 3 sets of parents contacted him distressed that their child is gay or transgender (I note that the parents used "gay." He also mentions contacting someone who 'identifies as gay").

His first recommendation is to follow the living apostles. (which explains why the bishop uses "SSA" even though everyone else around him used "gay"). It's a good idea for a local leader to find what the current leaders are saying because it's changed. He also says to read the Church's websites titled “Same-Sex Attraction” and “Transgender.” He provides two lovely quotes from those pages about diversity at church and being loving to people who are different.

His second recommendation is to not be afraid to talk to people who identify as gay, but instead try to have love for them and then let the Spirit guide you in what to say. We're just people, it shouldn't be scary to talk to us, that shows how different he thinks we are from the other people he interacts with in his ward.

The bishop's third suggestion is to speak to people who are familiar with LGBT "issues," share your testimony, and apologize for hurtful things you say. His list of people to contact for help understanding was a little disheartening because he starts with his stake leaders, ward leaders, other bishops, and so on, actual queer people were the last people on his list.

He continues by saying to pull aside members who are saying homophobic or transphobic things and give them some personal guidance, don't share private information that a member shares with the bishop, and just because someone has these "attractions" doesn't mean they're acting on them, and if they aren't "acting" on them then you can let them have a calling.

I have a few comments about the last few things. If no one corrects the homophobic/transphobic comments in public but instead privately suggests the person do better, every one who heard those comments thinks they stand unchallenged. The atmosphere created by the comments is unchanged. Especially if the bishop was present to hear those words, if they go uncontested then people think this is what is acceptable.

You'd think bishops know not to share private information a member shares with them. I've been around long enough to know that when a bishop is unsure what to do, he starts contacting his network (stake presidency, other bishops) asking for advice. Some bishops are discreet when doing this and others name the individuals.

While it seems basic, I recently had a counselor in a bishopric who didn't think gay people could get a temple recommend, that there's a zero-tolerance policy. That is an attitude that is outdated by a couple of decades, but it shows that people need to learn that simply existing as a gay or trans person doesn't automatically mean we are committing great sins.

I do find it interesting there appears to have been quite a few queer individuals in his ward, at least 4 or 5, and reading between the lines it seems they all stopped attending.

The bishop's heart is in the right place. I get he's following the Church leaders and that limits some of what he can do for queer people in his ward. I think his perspective primarily is of making the parents feel more welcome in the ward and not ostracized for having queer kids.

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The second article in the Liahona is written by a person with same-sex attraction and his work to overcome the shame he felt.

It's a much better article than the one written by the bishop. This person shares about the shame they felt at having gay feelings and working with a therapist to overcome that shame. He shares 3 lessons that helped him with this process.

1) God and Jesus love and accept him as he is. This is a message that doesn't often get conveyed to queer members and it's important they know this.

2) The Atonement of Jesus Christ offers healing. At first he was wanting the Atonement to cure him of being gay, but instead it helped him be healed of the shame he felt. I hear so many members who think the Atonement can change us from gay to straight, and that's not true. I'm glad he made this distinction. Our Heavenly Parents don't view being gay or trans as something that needs to be cured. I wish that message was taught more openly in the Church.

3) Build deeper connections and show compassion. Loneliness and feeling like you don't belong at church are two of the most troubling aspects an LGBTQ+ person has to deal with if they are active in the LDS Church. Developing close friendships will help with that. Also, queer people tend to be more compassionate than the average person and I believe it's because of the experiences we had to deal with of living in a heteronormative world that isn't made for us.

He includes a few useful tips at the end on how to engage with queer people.

All in all, a much better story than the one written by the bishop. He shared part of how it feels to be a gay member of this church, the idea that he should be ashamed for who he is, that being gay isn’t a burden, that he doesn't fit in.

I appreciated he said this is part of his layers of identity and at the core of his identity is that we're children of heavenly parents. That's more nuanced than the apostles who reject being gay has anything to do with identity and our only identity should be a child of God.

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The final story is from For the Strength of Youth. This piece seems like it's written by a queer person, but it's anonymous and given as general advice to show that people with same-sex attraction belong at church.

This article makes 3 main points. The first is that God loves you. That's true, although accompanying quotes to back up this principle aren't specifically about queer people.

The second point is "you belong." All sorts of people attend church, and God is no respecter of persons. Then they have a quote from Elder L. Whitney Clayton that people with same-sex attraction are welcome to come to church. To me, he's an odd choice to give this message as he led the Church's fight in California on Prop 8 to make gay marriage illegal again. Words aren't enough. Saying I'm welcome is not the same as making a welcoming climate.

The third point is that God will help you. They include a quote from Laura F. who experiences same-sex attraction. She writes about prayer, scripture study, temple and church attendance. However, she also says she doesn't know what her life will look like in 20 years, she seems to be leaving open the possibility her journey with God will lead her to romance and out of the church. I thought that was very honest and important.

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I found it noteworthy that nowhere in these 3 articles does it say being alone and celibate is good and what God wants.

I appreciate the idea that we can make our local congregations less homophobic/transphobic. The suggestions from the bishops shows that the bar is pretty low and it doesn't take much to make an improvement from how things are now.

The voices of the two gay members was important, what they shared was useful but nuanced, didn't make commitments to staying in the church long-term or testify that what the church requires is what God wants for them.

Even so, it's clear the publisher is very careful. They use "same-sex attraction" so often, I think readers would be surprised the preferred term of most same-sex attracted people would be gay, bi or lesbian. While they addressed some things, like homophobic/transphobic comments, feeling shame & not fitting in, I think they largely skated past the things that make queer people decide that this church isn't for them.

There's a part of me that says I'm glad we're having this conversation in the Church magazines, but another part that says this is too sanitized and doesn't get at the heart of things. These are very hopeful messages that make it seem that queer people could easily choose to stay in church if a few adjustments were made and if they only understood God loves them, which avoids the "doctrine" that excludes queer people from the highest blessings and joys and makes us essentially second-class citizens in the kingdom of God, at least according to our church.

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prorevenge · 4 years ago

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My Grandmother Put Greedy Preachers In Their Places .... Twice .... Even After She Died

TL/DR - My grandmother generously served her "Bible Believing Christian" church for almost 50 years, without asking anything in return. But when she became elderly, disabled and homebound, her church acted like she did not exist - until she was in hospice care and literally on her deathbed, when that church showed a sudden interest in telling Grandma to, "Remember your church in your will". She waited until exactly the right moment, in front of exactly the right audience, to expose these greedy assholes for what they were.....twice.

My grandmother was a member of a large conservative "Bible Believing" church for her entire adult life. This church, which I'll call BigWhiteChurch, was a member of a large Evangelical denomination. BigWhiteChurch was located in a prosperous suburb of a large city in the Bible Belt of the Deep South of the USA.

Grandma was very active in BigWhiteChurch. She worked in the nursery every Sunday morning, helped cook hundreds of church fellowship breakfasts and dinners, accompanied her children and grandchildren on dozens of church retreats and choir tours, taught Youth Bible Study on Sunday nights and was very active in supporting Home Missions, as well as helping with other youth programs. She always tithed, and often gave extra for missions and special offerings.

Grandma's greatest talent was making other people feel important. I've seen this first-hand many times. Although I belonged to a different church, I often visited with Grandma, and when I did, I usually went to BigWhiteChurch functions with her. I've seen her single-handedly cook breakfast for dozens of BigWhiteChurch Youth, a task which took over 2 hours, even in the church's large kitchen. Then, after the meal, she asked the group for a round of applause for the high-school student leader for, "Doing such a great job of organizing the Prayer Breakfast".

I remember that, on a BigWhiteChurch youth retreat at a rural Church Camp, she drove most of the night to go back to the city and retrieve a big box of evangelistic materials, that one of the Assistant Pastors (whom I'll call AssPastor) had forgotten and asked her to get, in time for our morning program the next day. His boss, the Senior Pastor (I'll call him PompousPastor), never found out that AssPastor had screwed up or that Grandma had fixed it for him. AssPastor never even thanked Grandma. Even though I was a child, this bothered me so much that I asked her about it. She said that she didn't mind at all; she told me her reward would be that those materials, "Would help children find Jesus".

Grandma's service to her church ended abruptly at the age of 73, when she broke her back in a car accident. Afterwards, for the last 10 years of her life, she was homebound and could not go to church because of this injury and declining health due to old age. Her mind was just as sharp as ever, and her faith remained sincere, but her body wore out a little more every day.

During those 10 years, she made many efforts to reach out to her church, its leadership and her church friends, inviting them to visit her at her home, etc., without success. Every one of these invitations was declined or simply ignored.

Near the end, when she was in home hospice care, she decided to plan her own funeral. She and my Grandpa called her church and asked for the Senior Pastor, PompousPastor, whom she had known for over 30 years, to visit her so that they could plan her memorial service, which she and Grandpa wanted to be held at the church.

PompousPastor was too busy, but AssPastor stopped by a few days later. According to my Grandpa, here's what happened at that meeting, with my Grandma literally on her deathbed:

Grandma, Grandpa and AssPastor discussed her funeral for a couple of minutes. Then AssPastor started pressuring her to, "Lay up your treasure in Heaven" by, "Remembering your church in your will".

Grandpa told him firmly that, "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss her will."

They went back to discussing the funeral for a few minutes. Then AssPastor steered the conversation back to Grandma's will, with liberal injections of how badly "her" church needed "her support".

Grandpa told him several times that it was inappropriate to talk to Grandma about her will or the church's financial needs, because she was terminally ill and in an enormous amount of physical pain. AssPastor would agree and briefly talk about the funeral, but would then go back to talking about the church's financial needs, heavenly rewards, "Where your treasure is your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:21, Luke 12:34), etc.

My Grandma started crying.

To put this into context, Grandma was more than a "Steel Magnolia". She was "Titanium Coated With Diamond Wrapped In Kevlar". She rarely ever cried, and never EVER cried about herself. Not one tear when the doctor told her that her back was broken so badly that she would never walk again, nor during the following 6 months in futile rehab. She would shed sincere but well-managed tears at funerals and while visiting family members in the hospital when they received bad news. She would cry to console others, "Weep with those who weep". But nobody - not Grandpa, not her daughter (my mom), nor any of my uncles or Grandma's siblings - ever remembered her crying for herself.

My Grandma was sobbing uncontrollably.

Grandpa, a retired steelworker, ex-Marine Sergeant and Korean War combat veteran, physically grabbed AssPastor and "escorted" him out of their house, not too gently.

Contrary to everyone's expectations, Grandma lived another 6 months, mostly because of sheer force of will. Eventually, though, Grandma passed away and we held her memorial service at the funeral home, not BigWhiteChurch. PompousPastor and AssPastor were conspicuously absent. In fact, there were no "Professional Christians", from BigWhiteChurch, at the service at all, not even in the audience.

To start the service, Grandpa stood up at the podium in front of the crowd and said, "Some of you may have heard that I dis-invited PompousPastor and AssPastor from this funeral service. This service is not an appropriate place for me to give you my reasons for doing this, although you all know me and so you know that my reasons are good ones. Also, my wife asked me to exclude them."

"This funeral service may be different from other funerals that you have attended. It is going to be an "open microphone" funeral. Everyone who wants to say something is invited to come up here and describe your friendship with my wife, tell a story about her that is worth remembering, or anything else that you want to say that will honor her memory and bring comfort to everyone here today. I have asked several family members to prepare statements, but you don't have to have anything prepared. Please, if you want to say something, come up here and do so."

There were about a hundred people at the funeral service; at least a third of them eventually stepped up to the microphone. The service, which we had planned to last about 30 minutes, lasted for over two hours and, as best I can tell, not one person left early. There was laughing, crying and hugging, three of her grandchildren played some of her favorite songs on the piano and guitar, we all joined hands and sang her favorite hymns.

Afterwards, dozens of people told my Grandpa that it was one of the most comforting and uplifting funerals they had ever attended. More than a few remarked that, "Funerals are better without preachers anyway", or something similar.

REMEMBERING HER PASTORS AND HER CHURCH IN HER WILL: THE ONE-TWO PUNCH

A couple of weeks later, it was time to start distributing the bequests in Grandma's will. Although Grandma and Grandpa dearly loved each other, they had separate wills because, she told my Mom, "That makes it easier for us to respect each other's turf", and because their lawyer had recommended it. Nobody thought that my grandparents were wealthy. They had lived in the same small but charming house in a prosperous, well-maintained suburban neighborhood for the past 50+ years, and had worked hard and lived modestly. But it was rumored that they had a very nice nest egg.

Of course, there is no legal requirement for anyone to attend "The Reading Of The Will", or to even have a "Reading". Modern telecommunications and near-universal literacy have made this quaint custom practically extinct.

But "The Reading Of The Will" was a tradition in our family because it was one of those events that gave our close-knit, extended family an excuse to get together. We never had "Family Reunions". They were too difficult to schedule for our large family. But we got together at birthdays, holidays, funerals, baptisms, etc., so that if you attended several of these, you would see just about every one of your cousins, aunts, uncles, and even great aunts & uncles who were Grandma's and Grandpa's siblings and in-laws.

With this family tradition in mind, many of our family members' wills often contained very personal bequests of items that had little cash value, but were the departed family member's way of telling their loved ones that they wanted to share a cherished memory with them one last time.

As an added incentive to attend, the family rumor mill had been buzzing with speculation, encouraged by Grandpa, that Grandma's will contained some "surprises".

The "Reading" was held in a conference room at a lawyer's office. Unsurprisingly, the attendees included my mom, as well as aunts, uncles, great aunts, great uncles and many of the grandchildren.

We were all surprised, however, to see PompousPastor and AssPastor from BigWhiteChurch. They informed us that Grandma's lawyer had told them that Grandma's will had bequests not only for BigWhiteChurch, but also for them personally.

Maybe it was just our imagination; but my siblings, cousins and I couldn't help noticing that these Preachers appeared to be actively salivating over their good fortune at Grandma's generosity.

Grandma had a large family, so a sizeable number of beneficiaries were named in her will. The lawyer's conference room was a bit smaller than an average middle-class living room. Extra chairs had been brought in, every seat was filled and people were standing in every remaining space.

There was barely space for all of us. Grandma's lawyer suggested that PompousPastor and AssPastor sit in chairs which were in the front of the room, next to himself. Since there was a large table in the room, this meant that the lawyer and these two Preachers were the only ones who were directly facing everyone else. Although the Preachers were gratified to be physically next to the center of attention, they did not notice, as all of the rest of us quickly noticed, that these seats made it easy for everyone else in the room to watch them closely, and practically impossible for them to leave the packed-to-more-than-overflowing room before the entire meeting was over, because they were farthest from the room's single door, and there were almost two dozen people standing or sitting between them and their only path to escape.

The bequests were quite generous, but pretty much what we had expected. Grandpa kept their house, its contents, their retirement accounts and everything that remained after all of the bequests had been satisfied. Children, grandchildren and several local charities received nice, but not extravagant, amounts of money. Several sentimental items were named and given to various friends and relatives.

Grandpa was first beneficiary listed in the will. But, after him, all of the other bequests were arranged in order of increasing worth. They started with sentimental items, which had very small cash value. Then each grandchild received several thousand dollars, then each son, daughter, brother, sister, niece and nephew received a little more, then several local non-profits received very nice amounts, etc.

Bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor were (almost) the last ones listed in the will. They listened politely to the other bequests, but with steadily growing anticipation, as they noticed the exponential upward trend in Grandma's largess.

When Grandma's lawyer got to the BigWhiteChurch and Preachers' part of the will, he said, "This is a bit unusual, but before I announce these bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor, Ms [Grandma's name] requested that I read the following statement to everyone present."

He opened a letter that was written in Grandma's own handwriting...

"For the past 10 years, NOT ONE person from BigWhiteChurch has ever called me, come to visit me or sent me a note to tell me that they cared about me. Not one minister, not one deacon, not one of the church women, not one of the church members who I worked with for all of those years, loved dearly and thought were my friends. I worked very hard for you when you needed me, for many, many years. But when I needed you and your church, you all pretended that I didn't exist."

"I only got one visit. When I was dying and I invited PompousPastor to come to my house and help me plan my funeral."

"This was my last attempt, after many attempts that I had made over the past 10 years, to reach out to my church and Pastor, whom I still loved dearly even though they had made it clear that they did not love me. If only I could have my funeral at my church, maybe some of my church friends, whom I had not seen in a decade, would come to the service to see me one last time. And I know they loved to hear PompousPastor preach, so if he preached at my funeral, maybe they would come to my funeral to hear him, even if they would not have come to see me.

But PompousPastor couldn't find the time to visit me, or even call me to tell me whether or not he was willing to preach at my funeral. AssPastor came by my house, but he didn't want to talk about my funeral. He just wanted me to, 'Remember his church in my will'. That's all. Just, 'Remember his church in my will'".

"It was then that I realized that I had allowed my church to break my heart for one last time. But that was the last time. The VERY last time."

"AssPastor did not know it when he visited me, but Grandpa and I had already prepared my will, long before his visit, which did include a double tithe - TWENTY PERCENT - of my ENTIRE ESTATE, for what was now my former ... FORMER ... church ... BigWhiteChurch.

This amount was [named the amount - an enormous shitload of money - generating muffled "wows" from many of her heirs, including me].

"But I got to feeling badly that we had not personally remembered such nice people as PompousPastor and AssPastor. So I changed my will to include them by name. While I was at it, I changed the amount of money that I left to BigWhiteChurch to match all of the love that they have showed to me during the last 10 years of my life, when I was suffering and lonely, and no longer able to work my ass off for them, for free, like I had done for almost half a century."

"That is her entire written statement", the lawyer said. "Now let's get back to the bequests in the will."

"Bequest to AssPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to PompousPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to BigWhiteChurch: One Cent".

The PompousPastor and AssPastor sat there looking like someone had just injected a gallon of novacaine into their jaws.

Every one of Grandma's family and friends felt an overwhelming urge to laugh out loud. But we kept quiet because we knew Grandma. We knew she wasn't finished yet. Grandma was simply setting them up for a one-two punch. The best was yet to come, and we didn't want to miss it.

"There is one last bequest," the lawyer continued, "For a charity called ...", which he named and I'll call "BlackCharity", then he paused before naming the amount....

Most of us had no idea what BlackCharity was. But, by the looks on their faces, we could tell that PompousPastor and AssPastor knew BlackCharity very well. Their faces displayed the same expressions of shock, dread and horror that they would have if the lawyer had said, "This bequest goes to The Demonic Baby Eaters to buy extra large rotisserie barbecue grills and tons of charcoal".

Every eye in the room was now fixated on PompousPastor and AssPastor.

The lawyer, who happened to be my uncle, one of Grandma's and Grandpa's sons, let the silence continue a few seconds more....

If we had been able to read PompousPastor's and AssPastor's minds, we would have known the history behind the looks on their faces. BlackCharity was sponsored by a large Black church just a few miles from BigWhiteChurch. They ran a free food/clothing bank, assistance programs for foster children, home delivery of pre-cooked meals for homebound seniors, legal aid, and other social services.

A long time ago, BigWhiteChurch, which was (and still is) 100% Caucasian, had provided a few years of financial and other support to BlackCharity. Then there was a very bitter, acrimonious breakup, allegedly because BlackCharity was practicing "The Social Gospel", while BigWhiteChurch was preaching "The True Gospel". BigWhiteChurch even sued to try to get some of their money back, although the suit was eventually settled and very little money actually changed hands.

But, this being The Deep South, everyone knew the real reason why BigWhiteChurch, or any white church, would stop supporting a Black charity: "Those n****** were getting uppity and not staying in their place". Grandma and Grandpa had seriously considered leaving BigWhiteChurch at that time. But they had reasoned that it was better to stay there and teach tolerance by their words and example. They knew they would never persuade everyone, but maybe they could reach some of the youth at their white church and break the generational cycle of racism. Grandma used to tell us, "My church is my Mission Field". We did not learn the true depth of her statement until after she died.

Since then, Grandma and Grandpa had secretly sent a portion of their "Tithe" to BlackCharity every month.

Most of Grandma's family, including me, didn't find out about any of this until after the meeting had ended.

But PompousPastor and AssPastor obviously understood what Grandma, by her actions which are more powerful than words, was saying to them. If you had grown up as a white person in the Deep South, as Grandma, Grandpa, PompousPastor and AssPastor had, you would understand.

To many white Southerners, this was one of the most personally insulting things you could do to them. It simultaneously labeled them as racists, condemned their bigotry and crushed their delusions of white superiority by saying, "These Black human beings, whom you hate, disrespect and have mistreated, are better people than you are. So they deserve my money more than you do".

Having allowed time for everyone to observe PompousPastor and AssPastor while they thought about how their white church had treated this Black charity, and how they AND their church had treated our Grandma...

The lawyer said, "The amount is...."

Then he named the EXACT SAME AMOUNT that Grandma had named in her handwritten letter, the huge amount of money that would have gone to BigWhiteChurch if she had not changed her will.

(source) story by (/u/BamaFan4Jesus)

#prorevenge #by /u/BamaFan4Jesus #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years ago

Text

Understanding the aftermath of r/wallstreetbets

A couple days back, I wrote up my best understanding of what happened with /r/wallstreetbets and meme stocks like Gamestop, trying to show how all the different, seemingly contradictory takes on the underlying financial stuff could all be true.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/28/payment-for-order-flow/#wallstreetbets

In the days since, a new series of contradictory takes has emerged, these ones disputing the meaning of this bizarre financial spectacle, and likewise what response, if any is warranted as it unfurls.

I think that all of these takes can also be true, and as with the trading itself, reconciling them requires that we widen the frame.

Let's start with Jimmy Carter.

In 1978, Carter's IRS created the 401(k), a tax-sheltered account for people who wanted to gamble on stocks to fund their retirement.

That was a fringe proposition at best.

The normal retirement system was a "defined benefits" pension where your employer guaranteed you a certain monthly percentage of your salary from retirement to death.

The vast majority of Americans wisely prefered a guaranteed payout to a tax-advantaged gambling account.

Obviously, right? On the one hand, you have the guarantee of a pension (maybe even inflation-indexed); on the other, you have a bunch of bets, that, if they go wrong, leave you literally homeless and starving.

When gamblers remortgage the family home and cash in the kids' college funds to play the tables, we consider them to have a mental illness, a pathological condition that harms them and the people around them.

Giving up a defined benefits pension in favor of a 401k is just the same kind of bet - staking all the money that will support you when you exit the workforce on the movement of stocks and bonds.

Who would do that voluntarily?

Pretty much no one. But the transition from defined benefits to 401k was not voluntary. Finance ghouls like Ethan Lipsig wrote memos to major employers like Hughes Aircraft showing them how they could ditch their pension obligations by moving workers to 401ks.

In the 80s, Reagan created a bunch of legal tools that allowed employers to coerce their workforces into giving up the security of a pension and force them into gambling their salaries on the prayer of a win in the markets.

This was insanely, amazingly great for the finance sector, in three ways:

1. It made companies more profitable. Guaranteeing that the workers whose labor made your company viable wouldn't spend their dotage starving and homeless is expensive.

Helping fund wagers on shares is much cheaper. The finance sector represented the major shareholders of the companies that transitioned to 401ks. The savings were transferred to these shareholders and the finance sector got commissions.

What's more, this temporary inflation of share prices disguised what was going on with the pension switcheroo: workers' defined benefits pensions were liquidated and turned into stocks, just as stocks were going up because their pensions had been liquidated!

Their legs had been amputated out from under them, but so subtly that they didn't yet feel the pain - and now their bosses cooked their legs and snuck them into their dinner, and everyone marveled at how full they felt after that hearty, meaty meal.

2. 401ks brought a lot of suckers to the table. The market was - and is - dominated by "sophisticated investors," AKA predators, who knew all the ways to fleece the rubes who had no idea how any of this worked.

The predatory nature of finance only increased over time. Hedge funds, for example, exist to find unethical practices that are legal (thanks to loopholes in the rules) and exploit them until they are illegal.

3. 401ks created a political force outside the finance sector that would lobby on its behalf. Transforming America into a nation of stockholders meant that workers had to choose between supporting rules that protected their jobs and rules that protected their retirement.

For your pension account to grow, you had to support policies that permitted finance ghouls to offshore your job, or misclassify you as a contractor, or eliminate the safety rules that prevented you from being maimed, or take away your right to sue for compensation.

Every time there's a particularly ghastly bankruptcy driven by PE or hedge funds - Toys R Us, Sears, etc - it emerges that at least some of that money is coming out of a union pension fund.

That's marketization - turning the once obscure, boring business of market-based capital allocation into a matter of import to everyday people.

Marketization begat financialization.

While marketization is primarily about capital allocation (who gets what money), financialization is about bets. Sometimes those bets are about things - businesses, houses, coal and timber - but things are limited. Mostly the financial market consists of bets on other bets.

Bets are infinite. Every time you make a bet, you create inventory for a market in a bet on the outcome of your bet. And that's inventory for a new market: bets on the outcomes of bets on the outcomes of bets.

It's called Wall Street Bets for a reason.

Bets need referees, someone who decides who the winner is. In sports, it's a major scandal if a referee is caught wagering on one of the teams in a match. In the financial markets, it's the norm - referees that lay wagers on the outcome of the contest they're overseeing.

Let's take stock:

Workers are forced to play the casino, and if their bets fail, they spend their old ages homeless and starving;

The vast majority of casino games are wholly abstract - bets on bets on bets - and require layers of refs;

the refs are all crooked.

Every couple of years, we have a massive, systemic financial crisis, and every time that happens, the finance sector lobbies for a no-strings-attached bailout, abetted by suckers who hate the finance sector but fear starving in their old age.

We're about to be engulfed in the second-largest crisis of our lifetime - the reckoning from trillions in capital market gains propped up by the Trump administration's policy of buying all corporate debt as a covid stimulus.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/28/cyberwar-tactics/#aligned-incentives

(the largest crisis of our lifetimes is a few years off, as the climate emergency piles losses on losses, stranding tens of trillions in assets, from fossil fuels to obsolete gas-stations to literally underwater coastal real-estate to whole towns incinerated by wildfires)

That's where we're at: a crooked casino that we've trusted our futures too, a crisis on the horizon, and a bunch meme-stock "players" who have thrown the normal weirdness of the market into stark relief through a spectacular stunt.

A lot of people are angry at Robinhood, the stock-trading platform at the center of all this. Robinhood froze trading on meme stocks, and has only allowed it to come back in a useless, performative trickle that is seemingly calculated to prevent more meme-stock gamesmanship.

Is Robinhood just another crooked ref? Yes…and no. The meme stock run upset the stable cheaters' equilibrium whereby cheating never escalated to the point where the game just collapsed.

For example, the total short position on Gamestop exceeds its total stock issuance.

Translation: there were more Gamestop shares promised between bettors than exist. When the game stops, all those promises come due, and they literally can't be paid off because there aren't enough tokens in circulation to settle all the debts.

Robinhood halted trading in part because the big fish upstream of Robinhood also halted trading, because they have even more at risk than Robinhood does if the game collapses - they the refs for MANY players, all the same size as Robinhood or larger.

https://www.bloomberg.com/opinion/articles/2021-01-29/reddit-traders-on-robinhood-are-on-both-sides-of-gamestop

But remember, the refs are cheating. And they are both downstream and upstream from other games in which the refs are also cheating.

And the games, as a whole, encompass our economy, including the solvency of the "real economy" (the people who make masks, deliver groceries and drive ambulances), and whether you spend your old age homeless and starving.

So the people who say, "Don't blame Robinhood, they didn't halt trading to help billionaires, they halted trading to prevent the game from collapsing are right."

But they're not the only ones who are right.

Also, there's the people who say that meme stocks aren't making money for little guys at the expense of the big guys. They're right too.

First, because these stocks will all need to be converted to cash, and that means selling them.

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2021/01/the-gamestop-bubble-is-going-to-hurt-a-lot-of-ordinary-investors/

When the selloff starts, the price will plunge, because even if the stock was undervalued before, it's certainly overvalued now. Every bubble produces wealth for its early bettors who sell out to later players who lose everything when they can't find a sucker later on.

From Beanie Babies to subprime, bubbles burst and leave suckers holding the bag. If you just heard about meme stocks last week, you're too late to make money off of them.

There's another version of the "this isn't little guys, it's big whales" that's *also* true: the main beneficiary of the meme stock runs is giant funds who magnified and the bets from r/wallstreetbets and got out smart and fast.

https://twitter.com/zatapatique/status/1354904995901136896

So given all this, what can we make of calls (from parties as varied as AOC and Ted Cruz) to investigate Robinhood and other retail brokerages to see whether they're honest refs, or in the tank for billionaires?

At Naked Capitalism, Yves Smith calls this a "fatuous uproar," saying that the Senate has more important things to do during the racing-out-of-control pandemic than to investigate a literal penny-ante grift.

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2021/01/the-fatuous-uproar-about-robinhood-and-gamestop.html

Do we really care who the winner is in "a beauty contest between Cinderella’s ugly sisters" ("clueless new gen day traders versus clumsy shorts")?

Smith is right too.

A speculator-v-speculator contest that falls apart when the crooked ref halts play to prevent collapse - who cares who "wins?"

But here's how they can all be right - the "who cares" and the "goliath v goliath" and the "bubble" and the "Robinhood is a plutes' honeypot."

*If* there's hearings, and *if* those hearings expose the absurdity and corruption of the system, *then* there is a chance to build the political will to make real, systemic changes when the crisis comes.

And there's a real crisis coming: two, in fact. The covid junk bond financial crisis, which is due very soon, and the climate crisis stranded asset emergencies, which will unroll with increased tempo and intensity for decades to come.

The half-century cycle of "addressing" finance crises by increasing financialization MUST stop.

If the meme stock spectacle gets us to pay attention to hearings that reveal the irredeemable rot of the system, then it's a unique chance to spread *real* "financial literacy."

And that literacy is the necessary (but insufficient) precursor to taking action when the time comes - and the time is certainly coming soon.

#pluralistic

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday Burnsy!

The Country AU -- I'm Gonna Live Where The Green Grass Grows

Pairing: Drake x Alyssa, Liam x Riley, and a whole host of other TRR characters.

A/N: This was a silly little idea I had months ago for an AU built around the places and people where I grew up. I never had plans to actually write it, but I mentioned it to Burns, and well ... she wanted it lol so here we are. And she’s already read half of this and is the one who made the mood board for it and the song inspo hahaha. Thank you to @mskaneko for the edits of our OTP’s, and @charlotteg234 for pre-reading the first half of this.

Trigger warning: Gun usage, hunting, mild language ... I think that’s it

@burnsoslow

My dearest friend, when I think back at where we were one year ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the vastly different world we live in now. On February 5, 2020, there was no covid keeping us sheltered and fearful, families were complete, jobs were stable, and so many of the things we worried about then simply pale in comparison to now, Life wasn’t so bad. But here we are with all these new changes and mindsets. Through it all, one thing remained consistent: YOU. You have been my strength, my rock, the anchor that grounded me. We have cried together, laughed a lot together, worried for each other, and celebrated those small victories that were important to each other. And I get so happy when someone comments about how much they love the friendship between Riley and Alyssa because it's the most real part of Fearless. If anyone ever wanted to know what we’re like, it's all written out in that story. I’ve got your back, and you have mine. You’re my best friend and I just love the hell out of ya! I hope your birthday is amazing and that this fic is everything you wanted for this AU.

------------------------------------

On Sunday mornings in southern Georgia, you did one of two things: You woke up early for church services or woke up late to watch NFL football.

Some people figured out a long time ago how to do both.

Sitting in the back pew of the First Cordonian Church of Everlasting Peace, Alyssa Walker sat quietly with the sweetest southern belle smile, nodding her head along to the beautiful words spoken during Pastor Hakim’s sermon and hiding a pair of earbuds lodged in each ear.

She and her husband, Drake, had laid claim to the pew when they were teens trying to sneak a kiss or two during prayers. After ten years of marriage, they no longer needed to sneak kisses but stayed in that same seat, believing the biggest sinners should stay as far away from the minister as possible. Why be the barrier that may prevent the spirit from reaching the rest of the congregation? The couple felt it was the least they could do.

They were actually pretty good folks and well respected in their community. Alyssa had taught first grade for eight years at the local elementary school, where her two children, nine-year-old Audrey and six-year-old Patrick, also attended. Her best friend since third grade, Riley, was the art teacher there.

Drake worked nearby as the lead mechanic at Rys and Sons Chevrolet out on North Ramsford Avenue. Constantine had owned the auto dealership for 35 years before passing it down to his sons, Leo and Liam, when he ran for and became the town's mayor. Leo peaced out, heading to South Florida, while Liam took on the sole responsibility of ownership himself.

And while most people in this sleepy little town of Cordonia were Falcons fanatics, Alyssa grew up rooting for the team where her parents were born and raised before settling in Georgia as newlywed lawyers: The Chicago Bears.

With the game against the Packers blaring into her ear, she kept a keen eye on the rest of her fellow parishioners. When they clapped, she clapped. When they sang, she sang. She raised her hands in hallelujahs when they did. She had learned to read lips and could “Amen” and “Praise God” right on cue with the rest of them. All the while, she sat in contentment, listening to her weekly football games.

“The score with 14 seconds left in the second quarter is Chicago -- 14, Green Bay -- 17. The Bears have the ball on the 5-yard line. It’s third and goal. If Trubisky can score here, they’ll go into the locker room at halftime with a lead for the first time in this game, or possibly tie it all up with a field goal after this down. This is a huge, HUGE play, Jim ...”

Alyssa twined her fingers together and lowered her forehead onto them as she waited with bated breath for the announcer to call the play-by-play. As far as anyone else knew, she was praying fervently for the Hebrews crossing the parted Red Sea away from Pharoah's army that the pastor was chronicling.

“And here comes the snap. Trubisky backs up. He tosses to Robinson in the end zone. OHHH! So close… batted away by Alexender …”

“JESUS!” Alyssa yelled out in anger. With earbuds in, she didn’t realize how loudly that just came out of her mouth. Drake nudged her in the thigh. She glanced over at him for a second before he nodded to the 123 pairs of eyes that had all turned at once in her direction. It instantly dawned on her that everyone in the congregation heard the outburst.

Feeling the color drain from her face, Alyssa placed a hand over her chest and addressed, “I am soooo into this sermon, Hakim. Woohoo! Go, Jesus, go!” She pumped her fist in the air like she was rooting him on.

Drake dropped his face onto Patrick’s shoulder, who was sitting on his lap, to cover the incessant laughter that threatened to spill out of him. He was doing a terrible job of it, as a momentary burst of muffled snickers could be heard through the sound of the game playing in Alyssa’s ear. Her husband was nothing but a big kid himself -- she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Mommy,” Audrey whispered next to her. “It’s about Moses. Not Jesus.”

Alyssa smiled, patting her daughter’s knee. “Same thing, baby. They both performed miracles.” She cut her eyes to the phone hidden under the cardigan draped across her thighs. “And the Bears need a miracle right now, guys,” she muttered, “Part those shithead Packer’s defensive line, Lord. It’s time to help my Bears get to the promised land.”

“Going for it on fourth down, Trubisky drops back. The Packer defense is putting a lot of pressure on the Bear’s offensive line. Every man is covered in the end zone. He has no one to throw to, Jim. They’re running out of time. Four seconds left. And, NOOO, they sack Trubisky on the 10-yard line … WAIT THE BALL IS LOOSE … THE BALL IS LOOSE ... he fumbled the ball. The Packers are scrambling to get it. There are green and white jerseys all over that ball. BUT LOOK … Green Bay’s Klark picks it up. He’s running the other way … and he just slipped … he just slipped, and the football fell right into the hands of Chicago’s Robinson --”

Alyssa grabbed Drake’s thigh, her fingers digging deeply with hope and panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” her stressed words weren’t audible to the crowd, but they were speaking volumes in her heart.

“--Robinson’s on the 20, now 15, he’s sweeping past the defense to the 10 -- 5 -- TOUCHDOWN, CHICAGO!!!”

"FUCK YES!" Alyssa jumped up, her arms outstretched in a V shape. “Hallelujah. Holy shit. Thank ya, Jesus.” She let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling nothing short of elated, not concerned in the slightest by the heads that twisted around again.

Hakim stood slack-jawed from the raised platform for a moment, his tallish physique slouching on the pulpit, before adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat deeply. "I'm certainly glad, Sister Alyssa is ... feeling the spirit this morning."

"I am feeling it, Brother Hakim," She shook her head profusely. "I. Am. Feeling it." She shot him a dimpled grin.

Drake snorted loudly, covering his face with one hand and grabbing the side of her dress to pull her back down with the other.

They turned to each other, neither one able to control the snickering and shaking of their bodies. Drake lifted a sleeping Patrick over his shoulder while Alyssa grabbed Audrey's hand; the Walker couple decided they were too immature for church this morning.

They laughed all the way to the parking lot.

"It's never a dull moment with you, baby girl," Drake chuckled, turning over the ignition.

"You know me …” She blew on her nails before rubbing them against her chest. “... just doing the Lord's work."

--------------

It was customary in Cordonia for families to gather together each week for a big supper after church.

The Walkers traditionally took turns hosting with Liam and Riley, and Constantine and Regina. This week's meal was at the elder Ryses.

Sitting down at the dining room table, everyone licked their chops, hungry and ready to dig into all the made-from-scratch southern goodness Mrs. Regina had prepared: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, green beans with hamhock, corn-on-the-cob, deviled eggs, biscuits, sweet tea, and coffee. It was all accompanied by two containers of broccoli salad, Alyssa picked up from the Piggly Wiggly deli after church, and Riley's lopsided carrot cake.

There was always a lot of food, a lot of love, and what would it be in a small town without a little gossip here and there.

"Regina, you've outdone yourself on this meal," Liam raved while placing his five-month-old son in a high chair and fastening the clasps. "If it tastes as good as it smells, we're all in for a big treat."

Everyone agreed as she sat down, Constantine pushing her chair in with a peck to the top of her head. "Thank you, Liam." She looked up at her husband with a sincere smile, rubbing his arm. "Only the best for our family."

She meant every word of that as she and Constantine glanced around the table at all the cheerful faces of the people they loved most — that included Drake and his family.

Drake's father had been the sheriff for many years before his untimely death, while the younger Walker was a teen. Connie had never met a braver, more hard-working man than Jackson; the now mayor stepped in after that death to be the father figure in Drake's life. Drake was already best friends with Liam, and over time, the family just considered him one of their own. Drake and Alyssa's children referred to them as Mamaw and Papaw Rys.

As everyone settled in and passed the food around the table, the doorbell rang; 7-year-old Ellie -- Liam and Riley's oldest -- jumped up to answer it. With everyone focused on getting their helpings, Riley leaned over and whispered to Alyssa, "Any more scoop on Savannah?"

Alyssa passed the potatoes to her and answered in a hushed tone, "I drove past her house yesterday ... Chuck was there. His big rig was backed right up into the driveway. They're not even trying to hide it anymore."

"I knew it." Riley slapped a scoop of potatoes onto her plate, passing them across to Liam. "When does Bertrand get back from that Bankers Convention in Atlanta?"

"I think Max said on Tuesday. And I guarn-damn-tee, Chuck will be there until then."

"Of course he will. Have you told Drake yet?"

Alyssa shook her head, peeking over at her husband, who was in hog heaven, dousing everything on his plate with white gravy, blissfully unaware of their idle chitchat. She turned back to Riley. "Not yet. You know how protective he is. I'll need to hide the gun cabinet keys when he finds out ... if he finds out. You remember how upset he got when Bianca got caught at the Love's Truck Stop with Landon Ebrim over the summer. His mama can do what she wants, but not with a married man."

Riley agreed with a nod before taking a sip and swallowing her sweet tea. "Ya know, I've never seen sweet Emmaline that angry."

"Yeah, me neither. She sure whopped ass that day." They both giggled lightly. "Landon's dentures flew clean across that truck lot."

"I saw her the other day at the Food Lion, grinnin' like a baked possum. Got that ol' dog for everything he had."

Alyssa huffed, "Cept' his nuts."

Ellie ran back in and hopped in her chair. "Miss Olivia is here!"

Alyssa stiffened, clutching her fork a little tighter before letting out a faint groan. Not that she didn't like the Assistant Principal of Cordonia Elementary -- she was her boss, after all, and they grew up together -- she could just be a little off-putting, sometimes with her treatment of Drake. In light of Olivia's recent divorce, she had, however, started directing most of her scorn on her ex-husband, Anton.

Everyone greeted Olivia as she strolled in behind the youngster, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on a counter with her purse. "I smelled your chicken and taters all the way from Lythikos Drive, Regina. You know how I love a good rib stickin' meal."

"Is Travis and Waylon here?" Patrick piped up eagerly from the children's table, hoping to have some boys to play with rather than the three little girls who kept ganging up on him.

Olivia pulled out a chair and started loading her plate down. "They're with their daddy this weekend, sugar. I'll tell them you asked about them."

Drake lifted his coffee mug, not making eye contact with anyone. "Speaking of ... I saw Anton yesterday at the Dollar Tree ... with someone." He smirked into his drink. While everyone else knew who and was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, he owed her for years of squabble.

"Who? Madeleine?" Olivia spat, adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her already overly sweetened tea. "Bless her rotten heart, he was seeing her before our break up. Moved in with her right after the divorce was final, so I hope she's enjoyed cookin' and cleanin' after my youngins' all weekend, cause she's gonna be doin it a hell of a lot more now that she got herself fired."

Madeleine was a bank teller in the drive-thru at First Cordonia and also Leo's ex-fiancee.

"Madeleine got fired?" Alyssa asked in surprise. "She's been there for years."

The redhead swirled the sugar around in her tea with a spoon before licking it off and continuing, "Mmm-hmm. Bertrand caught her on video, stuffing her gaudy drawers into the vacuum tubes at the bank and sending them to that bastard when he drove through to make a deposit. He was making deposits alright. Right between her scrawny, cankled ass --"

"Olivia!" Liam quickly interjected, knowing once she got going, it would likely turn R-rated with several little ears listening. "I'm dying to hear how the Christmas Festival for next Saturday is coming along." He shot a look across the table at Drake for getting her worked up. Drake simply grinned.

By late afternoon, supper had been eaten, dishes cleaned, and pants unbuttoned. After a couple of hours of chatting on the back porch and watching the kids play, the two younger couples packed up leftovers Regina insisted they take home and were ready to hit the road.

Liam and Riley lived next door and walked out with the Walkers who were making their way to the Tahoe parked on the street.

Alyssa bounced and cooed over baby Jacob before handing him back to Riley and getting into the vehicle's passenger seat.

Liam was leaning into the driver's side window, having a casual discussion with Drake about the opening day of deer season next Saturday and asking what time he wanted to head out.

Alyssa was half-listening and half-working the stereo when an idea popped into her head. "You know what would be fun?” Both men stopped talking and glanced over at her. “We should all go?”

Drake knit his brows. “Go where?

“Hunting. We can make it a double date. You and me, Riley and Liam. The great outdoors. Some quality time together. I’ll even make snacks for everyone. It’ll be fun,” her voice was chipper. She was excited about it.

She was also deadly serious.

So were the dubious looks Drake and Liam gave each other over the thought of taking their wives on the most important hunting event of their year. Not that either didn't enjoy spending time with their significant others, but hunting was a whole different world. It was a one-person sport where you spent the day away from reality and responsibilities and just enjoying the great outdoors —a place to be alone and experience the thrill of a good hunt.

“Guys, I’m serious. We go fishing together, and I’ve shot targets plenty of times. I really wanna go hunting with you. Riley wants to go too, don't you?” She cast an inquisitive glance out her window at Riley, who glared back with the biggest what-the-fuck look she'd ever made. “See, she wants to go too.”

“Baby,” Drake began softly, giving her knee light squeezes. “I don’t mind taking you, but this is opening day. We’ll be in the woods for hours, in the cold. It’s not really what someone would consider a ‘date.’ And we’re going to the Festival that night … we’ll get a chance to spend time together there.”

She held his gaze as her lips began to quiver. “I understand. You .. you need time to be away from me, and it was a dumb idea anyway --”

“No,” Drake cut in. His heart plummeted from the sadness in her voice and eyes. “That’s not it at all. I love spending time with you. And if you really want to do this, then … let’s do this.”

“Really? We can go together?” Drake nodded with a smile before she squealed in his ear and pulled him into a tight hug. “I can’t wait! Thank you!”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Liam let out a heavy breath as he looked over at Riley -- The woman he knew would not be a fun hunting partner next week -- still standing on the sidewalk, appearing like she might faint. “Yeah ... I can’t wait either.”

---------------------

Saturday. 5:15 a.m. The cellphone alarm on Drake’s bedside table let off a series of rhythmic beeping sounds and vibrations.

The alarm wasn’t needed. The man had been awake for hours, listening to his wife's gentle snores; the anticipation of bringing home at least a 12-pointer keeping him from falling back asleep.

Letting out a ferocious yawn and a hearty stretch, he picked up his phone to dismiss the alarm and rolled over to wake Alyssa.

With her ass perfectly curled into the space between his stomach and thighs, his hands settled on her curvy hip, jostling her slightly. “Time to get up, my little peach. We gotta get crackin’ before all the good deer are gone.”

“I just need one more hour, okay? Thanks,” she protested with a drowsy murmur, pulling the pillow over her head.

Drake chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over her back. “No. We have to get up now. We’re wasting time, sleepyhead. Unless … you don’t want to go.”

Alyssa’s heavy eyes stung as she tried to peel them open one at a time. “No, I wanna … go ...” she trailed. Her eyes slowly shut again, and she was out.

On a day like today, Drake was usually up and ready in ten minutes. Once he could finally get his wife out of bed, dressed, and back awake again from where she fell asleep on the toilet, it was close to 45 minutes.

Maxwell, who was also a childhood friend and the music teacher where Alyssa taught, rented the room over their garage. He agreed to come down that morning and watch the kids while the pair spent their morning in the woods. Bianca used to help out in that regard, but the kids complained she slept the whole time, and Alyssa was pretty sure her mother-in-law smoked pot around them.

Drake loaded up the truck, placing his rifle and a smaller .22 caliber for Alyssa behind the seat. Dragging herself slowly to the vehicle, the night sky still pitch black and her breath turning to thick vapors in the frigid air, she listlessly tossed a Taylor Swift tote bag on the floorboard and climbed in.

Drake looked at his phone after everything was packed up to see if Liam had sent a message about being late. It was unusual for him not to be there already. Typically, his best friend was up and at his house before Drake was even ready. He sent off a quick text to check.

Drake: Where you at, man?

Liam: Running late. Riley had to put makeup on and do her hair.

Liam: I’m having so much fun already 😑

Liam: snark

Drake: Lyss couldn’t decide which gloves looked the best with her orange vest. I guess she wants to impress the deer before she kills them.

Liam: We’re not catching deer today. We’ll be lucky if we catch a cold. Be there in 10.

Twenty minutes later, Liam’s gray Silverado pulled onto the Walker’s gravel drive. Riley had wanted biscuits and gravy from McDonald's, and she had to run back inside to pee, so that set them back. But, with everyone now there, they were finally ready to head out.

Just down the rural road from where Drake and Alyssa lived, the current sheriff of Cordonia, Bastien, owned several acres of unoccupied land that he used for recreation. He had been a close friend of Drake’s dad and agreed to let Drake and Liam hunt and fish on his property whenever they wanted.

Turning onto the dirt road and opening the gate, the four friends arrived at their spot just as dawn was breaking.

No one spoke much as they trekked through the mud, sticks, and brittle fall leaves that littered the path to the deer stands. Riley and Alyssa were too exhausted to say anything. Drake and Liam just weren’t used to talking at all.

"Riley, love,” Liam whispered softly. “Can you watch how you’re walking? The noise is going to scare the deer away.”

“I can’t help it if … " She reacted loudly in frustration before Liam placed a finger over his lips, and she resumed speaking more quietly. “I can’t help it if there're leaves everywhere. I’m walking on them as delicately as possible.”

“How much further? I think my toes are frozen and I need coffee.” Alyssa bemoaned while walking on the balls of her heels. Drake was basically dragging her sluggish body by the hand. Her eyes were still drooping from exhaustion with every careful step.

“Just over yonder of that fence row is our stand.” He pointed out.

Alyssa aimed her flashlight around the woods in several spots. "And where do we pee at?"

Liam lightly snorted as Drake answered matter-of-factly. "Just over yonder of that fence row below our stand."

"Oh ... " her tone was small and apprehensive, "... I guess that's ... okay." She glanced back timidly at Liam, who was following close behind.

He shielded his eyes from the beam of her flashlight in his face and frowned. "I'm not going to watch you pee, Alyssa."

Riley gasped, "Eww! I don't want Drake watching me pee either."

"Shhhhh." Liam was quick to remind her again of the volume of her voice.

"Stop, shushing me, Liam! Those deer don't know I'm out here."

Drake grunted, then whipped around to face the three of them. "Would you keep your voices down? No one's watching anybody take a piss," he whisper-yelled. "Lyssa and I will be at least a hundred yards away from ya'll. Riley, I promise you can piss your little heart out, and I won't see it."

"We're separating?" Alyssa asked wistfully. "What if I need to ask Riley something, and she can't hear me yelling across to her?"

"You'll just have to ask her when we're done, baby girl. And ... please don't yell questions to her while we're out here. Low voices."

They continued on with their noisy hike.

"Having so much fun," Liam grumbled to himself.

-------------------

Liam and Riley headed to their tree stand as Drake helped Alyssa climb up the ladder to theirs.

The stand and ladder were made of plywood -- chipped and faded from years of exposure to the elements -- and were attached at the apex to an oak tree about twenty feet off the ground. At the top it had enough room to take a step onto, with a wooden seat just wide enough to accommodate them. One plank rail came out on both sides.

Alyssa plopped down onto the seat, clutching her tote bag of goodies on her lap. She lifted the brim of the orange beanie she borrowed from Drake -- that smelled of animal carcass and gun powder -- above her eyes and peered out to the wilderness spread monumentally below. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the fresh, dewy air, taking in the sounds of twittering birds, branches clashing from the nearby squirrel frolicking on them, and the rippling of a bubbling brook streaming down the hill.

A pleasant warmth overcame her as Drake's much larger body sat down next to her and protected her from the frosty wind blowing in from his side.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into him. "I can see why you like this so much. It's so quiet and peaceful ... look how purty it is out here, Drake. It's just real purty, isn't it?"

Working diligently on getting their gear together, he stopped briefly to look out; affection glowed in his eyes. “It sure is, darlin’. Almost as purty as you ... and notice I said 'almost.'” He winked, and Alyssa blushed, feeling that same love trickling up inside her she'd had since they were teenagers. Drake could charm the pants off a chipmunk, but she was thankful he only used that gift on her.

"Sooo ... " She drawled in her thick Southern accent. "How long will it be before the deer start coming out?"

Drake drew the barrel of her gun back after loading it with shells and explained, "Don't know. It could be minutes. It could be a few hours. Just whenever they head this way, I reckon."

Perplexed, Alyssa nodded slowly. "A few hours? I s'pose that's okay. What do you do while you're waiting?"

He shrugged, passing a gun to her. "You just ... sit here."

"You just sit here and do what?"

Drake leaned over to kiss into her orange cap and replied, "Wait."

"Wait." She acknowledged. "I can do that. I'll just sit here ... and wait."

Several minutes had passed, and Alyssa was already bored with listening to nature, Drake's gurgling stomach, and sitting quietly with nothing to do. Every so often, a shotgun blast was heard in the distance, signifying either someone out there had gotten their prize or Riley had driven Liam insane. It was the only break from the monotony that came with the boredom of sitting in a tree for who knew how many hours.

Letting out a giant exhale that caught Drake's attention, she propped her rifle against the railing and pulled the cloth tote that was sitting between her boots into her lap. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out her phone and began thumbing out a message.

Drake furrowed his brows and asked, "What're you doin'?"

"Just texting Riley,' she answered dismissively. He shook his head and leaned it back against the tree while she formulated her message.

Alyssa: You still alive over there? How's it going?

Riley: This is boring as shit.

Riley: And now my texting is apparently scaring away the deer. F the deer Liam. F all the damn deer!!!! What were you thinking, Lyss?

Alyssa: I was thinking we could spend quality time with our husbands. The men we love and cherish with all of our hearts. I’m having a great time with Drake so far 😍😘

Alyssa: And no one twisted your arm to come bitch.

Riley: Liam's just staring through binoculars. He hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes except to tell me to point the gun away from him or to quit moving. Let’s go get our hair did at Adelaide's.”

Alyssa: OHHH Yes! And get Chinese food ... CRAB RANGOONS!! I'll have Drake drive us back. Girls Day Out. Love you!

Drake let out a belch and blew it away when Alyssa turned to him with a dazzling smile and a sparkle in her blues. "Can you drive Riley and me back to the house?"

"What? Right now?" he shrieked. She answered him with a cheerful nod. "What happened to all that talk about wanting to spend quality time with me?"

"I still do. But ... we're just sitting here, not really doing anything. I could be getting my hair done for tonight's festival. I also have a ton of laundry to do, some papers to grade, and I’m supposed to be making the Devereaux’s famous peach cobbler for the raffle. If I leave now, I’ll have time to do all of it.” Alyssa knew she probably wouldn’t do half of that, and Audrey would likely make the cobbler, but it made the situation sound more urgent.

"It's opening day, baby. I'm not leaving this spot." He reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his keys. "If you and Riley wanna take my truck, I'll ride back with Liam."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know my way back to the truck. And I sure as hell know Riley doesn't."

He smirked, stuffing his keys back. "Then you're stuck."

The next hour was brutal. Alyssa texted Riley to alleviate the boredom for several minutes, but there had been no responses in a long while. She wasn't aware that Liam tossed her friend's phone over the hill when she started making TikTok videos of her plight -- Liam took his deer hunting seriously: No noise meant no noise.

Drake wasn't much better; he was quieter than his usual self. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could at least talk. An occasional whispered word was not going to cut it.

Alyssa sighed heavily. She wiggled around for comfort. She unwrapped a Nutty Bar. She crunched. She opened a can of pop. She tapped her fingers. She flipped the pages of a magazine. Each one got that look from Drake that let her know it was too loud. If she ever made it out of there, she planned to jabber and stir until she couldn't do it anymore.

After another half-hour of stewing quietly in her thoughts without a sign of a deer anywhere, Alyssa decided now was the time to finally just talk.

"Do you ever think about having another baby?" It was a topic that had been on her mind for a while. To her surprise, Drake didn't give her a look or even freak out the way she anticipated. Despite his own rule of silence, he even responded in kind.

"Yeah. Kind of a lot."

Her right brow darted up. "Really?"

Drake took a breath and shifted the gun across his lap. "I mean, of course. It's always been my dream to settle down and have a bunch of youngin's with the woman I love." He studied her lit-up face; he'd swore she'd gotten more beautiful with age. That's why he hesitated when he added, "But ... "

Her shoulders slumped at his words, and a deflated look impressed upon her face. "But ... " The word barely made it past her lips.

Drake reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "Lyssa, we have so much going on right now. You're working on National Boards, Audrey has piano recitals and basketball, Patrick has peewee football and Boy Scouts. We barely have time -- except for right now -- for just ... us. I'm not saying,"never"... just that right now ... isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but ... we've always made it work. And don't you miss those tiny little fingers wrapped around yours? And the way they smell fresh out of the bath? And those chubby little cheeks pressed up against yours?" she goaded.

“Of course I do. I remember the first time I held Audrey and PJ in my arms -- there’s just no better feeling in the world than ...to look down ... " Drake paused as his voice cracked, and his brown eyes glistened like glass. " ... and to see someone so small ..." When she sniffled, it made it that much harder for him to speak. "... that you created with the woman you've loved since you were 16 years old. But I like who they are now, and watching them grow, and doing things with them ... And, well ... there’s no shit clean up.”

“You obviously haven’t washed Patrick's clothes in a while,” Alyssa retorted with a chuckle that brought out one in her husband.

"I’ll have to talk to him about that." He gazed deeper into her eyes. "But I do love you ... more than all the peaches in Georgia, Lyssa Claire.”

Alyssa smiled.“That’s what you said to me when you promised to marry me when we were teens.”

Drake returned his own smile. “I did. I remember like it was yesterday too. Sitting in your parent’s basement, watching Friends reruns, eating pizza, making out. And hell, it’s still as true today as it was then. Somehow, even more."

Their cold lips parted and joined halfway for a fervent kiss, with Drake's hand meandering around the subtle groove at the junction of her waist. Just as it became more intense and desirous, a rustling of twigs off in a nearby thicket caught Drake's ear, and he broke away, his eyes scoping the perimeter. Alyssa wasn't offended, she heard it too, and her heart raced with excitement.

Lifting the binoculars hanging from his neck, he spotted two deer eating from a blackberry patch some thirty yards away. He pointed in their direction; Alyssa gave a quick thumbs up, letting him know she saw them too.

Drake carefully lifted the rifle resting in his lap as Alyssa leaned forward and squinted to get a better visual. "Is that a buck and a doe?" she whispered, not moving an inch.

"Sure as fuck is." He mounted the stock of his .30 caliber, Winchester, just beneath his collarbone; the rush of this moment coursed ravenously through his body. He lined up the scope and placed a steady finger on the trigger -- his thumb pulling the hammer back.

“Wait.” Alyssa loudly whispered. “You can’t shoot him.”

"I'm gonna. Better cover your ears."

"No, Drake. There's a doe with him. What if that's his wife? You can't just leave her all alone without him."

"Lyss, this is the whole reason we're out here."

"So you can make a widow out of her?"

"No ... so I can make deer chili out of him."

Alyssa's mouth flew open. "No. No. RUUUUUUUUN! RUUUUUUN!"

Drake pulled his face away from the scope and fired her a look. "What the hell are you doing? They're getting away!"

She tilted her chin boldly. "I don't care. That was her husband, and they're in love, and you can't take that away from them. I would be so sad if we were just out eating berries and someone came up and shot you, ALL SO THEY COULD EAT DRAKE CHILI!".

Drake dropped his head. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. As long as he’d known her, she was stubborn, and at that moment, she was dead set in believing those two deer were living out the greatest romance of all time. Nothing he said or did would change her mind on that.

A thought emerged while he attempted to comprehend the logic of the situation. Those deer ran off in the direction where Liam was set up. Maybe if he could give his friend a heads up, it was still possible at least someone would leave those woods with the prized buck.

Turning his back from Alyssa so that she couldn't stop him, he pulled a small walkie-talkie from his pocket and radioed Liam. Alyssa knew what was up and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms around him in an attempt to stop the travesty.

"You can't do this, Drake," she hollered, "That’s her soulmate. And why don't I have a walkie-talkie? I want a walkie-talkie!"

While seated next to Liam, Riley was swinging her legs, purposefully making the soles of her boots scrape against the platform. Liam tried to ignore her; maybe he had been a little too uptight about every little noise and utterance she made. But this was playing a whole different ballgame now: she was now making it her mission to piss him off.

Prepared to pound his head against the tree, Liam gritted his teeth, skimming his eyes in her direction. "Love, do you have to do that?"

"Did you have to throw my phone in the woods?" She spat back.

Liam rubbed his hand over his face. "No, and I am sorry that. I apologize for all of eternity. I promise I will get you another one as soon as we get back, okay?”

Riley huffed. "Fine, but that phone had all of my contacts on it. It had our babies' pictures and videos on it ... our vacation photos. I can't get those memories back ever, and I have to find it, and God only knows where it landed. It could be ..." She stopped rattling on when she caught sight of the distressed look Liam was giving her. Knitting her brows, Riley asked, "What?"

"Nothing ... just ... can you lower your voice a little? You're gonna scare the deer away,"

He regretted it as soon as it came out.

“LIAAAAM!”

He saw the steam gushing out of her ears. There was no time to answer the incoming call on his walkie-talkie from Drake.

Belting out a furious screech, Riley jumped up and tried to jerk the gun from his hands. There was no question she wouldn't shoot him, but she'd sure as hell shred his favorite gun apart piece-by-piece and toss them all the way to Portavira Lake on the other side of town.

Riley tugged with all of her might. "I have HAD IT with being quiet for those damn deer, Liam. HAD IT!"

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down ..." He stood up in front of her, pulling back on the rifle even harder, surprised -- and not pleasantly so -- his considerably smaller wife had this much struggle in her.

"Don't you sweetheart me. You have shushed me for the last time, Liam Preston Rys!"

“Okay, I’m sorry! But can you at least admit us fighting over a gun is dangerous? Somebody is going to get seriously hurt, and I don’t want it to be you, Riley. Please. I won’t shush you anymore, I promise.” His face softened, eventually adorning a loving smile at his wife, who, with a sigh, was unable to resist that handsome face and relaxed her grip.

Riley gave him a half-smile in return. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve ruined your hunting trip.”

“Yes ... you did.” Liam agreed, dodging the playful slap she nearly made to his upper arm. “But I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With the War of the Ryses finally over, they went in for a makeup kiss until Drake’s voice called out to Liam again through his walkie talkie. Liam set the gun down on the bench and leaned it against the tree before he started digging into his pocket to answer the device. Riley dropped down onto the seat, her elbow brushed against the rifle and caused it to slide away until the barrel end hit the railing and set off a powerful blast.

When the ringing in both of their ears subsided, and the smoke had cleared, Liam and Riley collected themselves from the sudden spine-gripping explosion that shook them both. While Riley explained to Liam what happened, a hysterical sounding Drake came back over the walkie-talkie, wailing, “Alyssa’s been shot! Alyssa’s been shot! Help me!”

__________________

Later that evening, in the courthouse square, the street was lit up with zig-zagged rows of red, green, and white lights. Strands of garland were wound around every lamppost in perfect spiraled loops, and red bows hung and waved with the wintry breeze.

With traffic rerouted away from the area, vendors lined sidewalks selling local goods to put the town's citizens in the festive spirit. What would this small town in Georgia have been without boiled peanuts, low country boil, fried green tomatoes, barbecue, and peach everything?

Once Constantine had lit the 30-foot spruce, surrounded by hundreds of merry people from all walks of life that made up this small community, the festival was officially kicked-off.

In a large tent set up on the square, Liam and Riley laid out styrofoam containers and drinks they’d purchased from a barbeque vendor on one of several picnic tables inside. With their two young daughters munching away on their meal, and the stroller with their sleeping son beside them, they both sat down with heavy hearts and restless minds.

Liam bit into his barbecue sandwich, noticing Riley only prodding at her mac-and-cheese while staring off into the distance. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew what happened that morning was bothering her with guilt and worry. It wasn’t every day she accidentally shot someone.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Riley shook her head slightly with a sad look. “No. It’s just not the same without Alyssa here. You know how much she loves Christmas and the festival. She was so looking forward to it too, until --”

“You shot her.”

“Yeeeeeesssss,” she cried out. Liam reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. Riley continued to sniffle as she grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the barbecue sauce off Liam’s sticky fingers that were now smeared all over hers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear it. And the way … and the way Drake cried. It broke my heart. Now he has her on bed rest AND house arrest. He won’t let her take calls. I’ll never see or hear from my bestie agaaaain.” The tears continued to flow in steady streams.

Liam stiffened, feeling the eyes of everyone in that tent, gawking at his overly-dramatic wife breaking down. He started to tell her to lower her voice, but after the gun battle in the woods, he thought better of it. “Riley, darlin’, you know Drake is really overprotective of Alyssa. And as scary as what happened was, she only needed the one stitch and band-aid for her graze wound. Something tells me Drake won’t be able to keep her down long.”

---------------------------

Liam was right. As much as Drake tried to keep her in bed so he could wait on her hand and foot, protect her from the careless friends of the world who could inadvertently do his baby girl harm, and check to see if she needed a new band-aid every few minutes, he could not keep her down. She had been far too excited to hang out with the people she loved so much and celebrate at one of her favorite festivals.

Maxwell had left for the events with Audrey and Patrick an hour ago; they were part of the children’s caroling group and needed to be there early. Against Drake’s wishes, Alyssa showered, got dressed, and made sure he knew in no uncertain terms would he be able to prevent her from going. The only thing he knew to do was to go, follow her around the entire night, and make sure she wouldn’t get shot again.

They circled the block where everything was held several times, but spaces to park were impossible to find. Three blocks away was the church where they attended, and the parking lot was completely empty. Drake didn’t like the fact that Alyssa would have to walk so far in her debilitated condition and was prepared to haul her piggyback style if he had to, but this was the best spot he could find.

Drake moved the gearshift into park and reached over to grab Alyssa’s arm, who was already bounding out the door. He pulled Alyssa back inside, the chilly air blowing through her open door swept her straighten hair this way and that way.

She cocked her head to the side and exhaled, “Drake, I can open my own door. I’m not broken. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He smiled that tenderhearted smile only Alyssa had ever seen. The same one sending a shudder through her already chilled body. “I changed my mind,” he replied simply

Alyssa slammed her eyes shut and groaned. “I just told you I was fine --”

“No, no,” He shook his head. “About having another baby. I want to start trying.”

Saddled with curiosity, she slid back into the truck and shut the door. “But, I thought you said we didn’t have time for that --”

“Yeah, I did say that. I still believe it. But … today made me realize that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today …”

Alyssa’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed out loud. Drake gave her a confused look before chuckling awkwardly to himself, “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand, still laughing. “You got that saying from a quote on a poster in my classroom. You’re the one who hung it up for me.”

The memory dawned on him, and he lowered his head, attempting to cover the guilty grin that spread over it. “Well, hell. Here I was trying to make you think I was all insightful and smart and stuff.”

Alyssa’s hand splayed across his rugged chest as she leaned over to kiss him.“You are very insightful and smart. You know I never settle for anything less than the best.”

“I s’pose.” he said, forking his fingers through his hair. “But … I guess what I wanted to say was … I know that bullet missed you, barely … but what if it hadn’t? What if I’d left those woods without you today? Just like you were afraid that doe might. Time wouldn’t matter anymore. There will NEVER be enough time with you. You’re my life, Alyssa Claire. You’re my lover, my friend, my heart, my confidante, my soul, my everything … my little peach. I want to experience all that life has given me with you as my wife … and forever make time with you.”

“DRAAAKEY!” she bawled, spreading her tiny arms wide around his bulky body. Alyssa drew him into her so hard it nearly crushed the wind right out of his lungs. “I -- love -- you -- so muuuch!” Drake patted her back and kissed into her hair as she sniveled into his shirt. He hated when she cried, but damn if this didn’t feel good to him. Anytime she was happy made him that way too.

They took a moment to kiss and pet each other a little before Alyssa sat up and asked, “So … when do you want to start trying for a new baby Walker?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby.”

Alyssa looked through the back window of the truck and scanned the parking lot. She bit her lip and looked back at him impishly. “What about … now?”

Drake’s eyes flew open wide. “In the church parking lot?”

Pursing her lips, she affirmed, “Yes. We’ve done it behind the Piggly Wiggly plenty of times. And let's not forget the ‘Great Ass Blow-out of 2019’ in the Atlanta Convention Center parking garage.”

“I will never forget that.” Drake shook his head as that momentous sexual experience replayed in his mind. “Mmmm, you performed magic that day, woman.”

She raised a brow and coaxed him on, “So? What’dya say?”

Drake took a tentative look around at the dark, empty lot, then back at her. “We’re so going to hell, but I’m in.”

“Eeeeeee,” she squealed, jerking his arm around in excitement. “Try to keep your ass out of the window this time, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Pastor Hakim pulled into the church parking lot with Mara, the game warden, following behind in her truck. There had been several reports from passerby’s of loud animals howling and screeching behind the church. The stray cat population was out of control in that area, and several cats had burrowed their way inside the church on occasion.

Hakim parked his car, with Mara pulling in beside him. They both got out simultaneously and listened quietly to see if they could decipher where the commotion was coming from.

Within seconds, a load moan roared out, followed by several consecutive whimpers that were hard to make out by the duo.

Mara listened intently, then gestured with her flashlight to an area near the back of the lot where clusters of shrubs and dry brush bordered. Hakim ambled behind her, the noise getting closer and closer until the pastor's brow furrowed at the shaking of a nearby truck.

“Damn, teenagers,” he grumbled as they tipped toed discreetly.

Mara crouched down by the truck's tailgate, Hakim bending over while she duck-walked toward the driver's side door.

The game warden turned to the pastor and instructed, “On my three. 1 -- 2 -- 3.” They both jumped up at the same time, flashing the light inside the cab. “HAHA Caught ya! OH MY GOD!”

Alyssa, who was on top of Drake, completely naked except for the band-aid on her left arm, looked up in utter humiliation and shock. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breast, feeling like she might faint. Not knowing what to say at that moment to rectify their actions or why those two were still staring inside the truck, Alyssa smiled sheepishly. “I’m still feeling the spirit, Hakim.”

---------------------------------

Permanent Tags:

@burnsoslow @ao719 @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @ofpixelsandscribbles @amandablink @cordoniaqueensworld @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer @cordonia-gothqueen @tinkie1973

#drake x alyssa #Liam x Riley #gun usage #hunting

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theshedding · 4 years ago

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Lil Nas X: Country Music, Christianity & Reclaiming HELL

I don’t typically bother myself to follow what Lil Nas X is doing from day to day, or even month to month but I do know that his “Old Town Road” hit became one of the biggest selling/streamed records in Country Music Business history (by a Black Country & Queer artist). “Black” is key because for 75+ years Country music has unsuspiciously evolved into a solidly White-identified genre (despite mixed and Indian & Black roots). Regrettably, Country music is also widely known for anti-black, misogynoir, reliably homophobic (Trans isn’t really a conversation yet), Christian and Hard Right sentiments on the political spectrum. Some other day I will venture into more; there is a whole analysis dying to be done on this exclusive practice in the music industry with its implications on ‘access’ to equity and opportunity for both Black/POC’s and Whites artists/songwriters alike. More commentary on this rigid homogeneous field is needed and how it prohibits certain talent(s) for the sake of perpetuating homogeneity (e.g. “social determinants” of diversity & viable artistic careers). I’ll refrain from discussing that fully here, though suffice it to say that for those reasons X’s “Old Town Road” was monumental and vindicating.

As for Lil Nas X, I’m not particularly a big fan of his music; but I see him, what he’s doing, his impact on music + culture and I celebrate him using these moments to affirm his Black, Queer self, and lifting up others. Believe it or not, even in the 2020′s, being “out” in the music business is still a costly choice. As an artist it remains much easier to just “play straight”. And despite appearances, the business (particularly Country) has been dragged kicking and screaming into developing, promoting and advancing openly-affirming LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈 artists in the board room or on-stage. Though things are ‘better’ we have not yet arrived at a place of equity or opportunity for queer artists; for the road of music biz history is littered with stunted careers, bodies and limitations on artists who had no option but to follow conventional ways, fail or never be heard of in the first place. With few exceptions, record labels, radio and press/media have successfully used fear, intimidation, innuendo and coercion to dilute, downplay or erase any hint of queer identity from its performers. This was true even for obvious talents like Little Richard.

(Note: I’m particularly speaking of artists in this regard, not so much the hairstylists, make-up artists, PA’s, etc.)

_____

Which is why...in regard to Lil Nas X, whether you like, hate or love his music, the young brother is a trailblazer. His very existence protests (at least) decades of inequity, oppression and erasure. X aptly critiques a Neo-Christian Fascist Heteropatriarchy; not just in American society but throughout the Music Business and with Black people. That is no small deal. His unapologetic outness holds a mirror up to Christianity at-large, as an institution, theology and practice. The problem is they just don’t like what they see in that mirror.

In actuality, “Call Me By Your Name”, Lil Nas X’s new video, is a twist on classic mythology and religious memes that are less reprehensible or vulgar than the Biblical narratives most of us grew up on vís-a-vís indoctrinating smiles of Sunday school teachers and family prior to the “age of reason”. Think about the narratives blithely describing Satan’s friendly wager with God regarding Job (42:1-6); the horrific “prophecies” in St. John’s Book of Revelation (i.e. skies will rain fire, angels will spit swords, mankind will be forced to retreat into caves for shelter, and we will be harassed by at least three terrifying dragons and beasts. Angels will sound seven trumpets of warning, and later on, seven plagues will be dumped on the world), or Jesus’s own clarifying words of violent intent in Matthew (re: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” 10:34). Whether literal or metaphor, these age old stories pale in comparison to a three minute allegorical rap video. Conservatives: say what you will, I’m pretty confident X doesn’t take himself as seriously as “The true and living God” from the book of Job.

A little known fact as it is, people have debunked the story and evolution of Satan and already offered compelling research showing [he] is more of a literary device than an actual entity or “spirit” (Spoiler: In the Bible, Satan does not take shape as an actual “bad” person until the New Testament). In fact, modern Christianity’s impression of the “Devil” is shaped by conflating Hellenized mythology with a literary tradition rooted in Dante’s Inferno and accompanying spooks and superstitions going back thousands of years. Whether Catholic, Protestant, Mormon, Scientologist, Atheist or Agnostic, we’ve spent a lifetime with these predominant icons and clichés. (Resource: Prof. Bart D. Erhman, “Heaven & Hell”).

So Here’s THE PROBLEM: The current level of fear and outrage is:

(1) Unjust, imposing and irrational.

(2) Disproportionate when taken into account a lifetime of harmful Christian propaganda, anti-gay preaching and political advocacy.

(3) Historically inaccurate concerning the existence of “Hell” and who should be scared of going there.

Think I’m overreacting?

Examples:

Institutionalized Homophobia (rhetoric + policy)

Anti-Gay Ministers In Life And Death: Bishop Eddie Long And Rev. Bernice King

Black, gay and Christian, Marylanders struggle with Conflicts

Harlem pastor: 'Obama has released the homo demons on the black man'

Joel Olsteen: Homosexuality is “Not God’s Best”

Bishop Brandon Porter: Gays “Perverted & Lost...The Church of God in Christ Convocation appears like a ‘coming out party’ for members of the gay community.”

Kim Burrell: “That perverted homosexual spirit is a spirit of delusion & confusion and has deceived many men & women, and it has caused a strain on the body of Christ”

Falwell Suggests Gays to Blame for 9-11 Attacks

Pope Francis Blames The Devil For Sexual Abuse By Catholic Church

Pope Francis: Gay People Not Welcome in Clergy

Pope Francis Blames The Devil For Sexual Abuse By Catholic Church

The Pope and Gay People: Nothing’s Changed

The Catholic church silently lobbied against a suicide prevention hotline in the US because it included LGBT resources

Mormon church prohibits Children of LGBT parents to be baptized

Catholic Charity Ends Adoptions Rather Than Place Kid With Same-Sex Couple

I Was a Religious Zealot That Hurt People-Coming Out as Gay: A Former Conversion Therapy Leader Is Apologizing to the LGBTQ Community

The above short list chronicles a consistent, literal, demonization of LGBTQ people, contempt for their gender presentation, objectification of their bodies/sexuality and a coordinated pollution of media and culture over the last 50+ years by clergy since integration and Civil Rights legislation. Basically terrorism. Popes, Bishops, Pastors, Evangelists, Politicians, Television hosts, US Presidents, Camp Leaders, Teachers, Singers & Entertainers, Coaches, Athletes and Christians of all types all around the world have confused and confounded these issues, suppressed dissent, and confidently lied about LGBT people-including fellow Queer Christians with impunity for generations (i.e. “thou shall not bear false witness against they neighbor” Ex. 23:1-3). Christian majority viewpoints about “laws” and “nature” have run the table in discussions about LGBTQ people in society-so much that we collectively must first consider their religious views in all discussions and the specter of Christian approval -at best or Christian condescension -at worst. That is Christian (and straight) privilege. People are tired of this undue deference to religious opinions.

That is what is so deliciously bothersome about Lil Nas X being loud, proud and “in your face” about his sexuality. If for just a moment, he not only disrupts the American hetero-patriarchy but specifically the Black hetero-patriarchy, the so-called “Black Church Industrial Complex”, Neo-Christian Fascism and a mostly uneducated (and/or miseducated) public concerning Ancient Near East and European history, superstitions-and (by extension) White Supremacy. To round up: people are losing their minds because the victim decided to speak out against his victimizer.

Additionally, on some level I believe people are mad at him being just twenty years old, out and FREE as a self-assured, affirming & affirmed QUEER Black male entertainer with money and fame in the PRIME of his life. We’ve never, or rarely, seen that before in a Black man in the music business and popular culture. But that’s just too bad for them. With my own eyes I’ve watched straight people, friends, Christians, enjoy their sexuality from their elementary youth to adolescence, up and through college and later marriages, often times independently of their spouses (repeatedly). Meanwhile Queer/Gay/SGL/LGBTQ people are expected to put their lives on hold while the ‘blessed’ straight people run around exploring premarital/post-marital/extra-marital sex, love and affection, unbound & un-convicted by their ��sin” or God...only to proudly rebrand themselves later in life as a good, moral “wholesome Christian” via the ‘sacred’ institution of marriage with no questions asked.

Inequality defined.

For Lil Nas X, everything about the society we've created for him in the last 100+ years (re: links above) has explicitly been designed for his life not to be his own. According to these and other Christians (see above), his identity is essentially supposed to be an endless rat fuck of internal confusion, suicide-ideation, depression, long-suffering, faux masculinity, heterosexism, groveling towards heaven, respectability politics, failed prayer and supplication to a heteronormative earthly and celestial hierarchy unbothered in affording LGBT people like him a healthy, sane human development. It’s almost as if the Conservative establishment (Black included) needs Lil Nas X to be like others before him: “private”, mysteriously single, suicidal, suspiciously straight or worse, dead of HIV/AIDS ...anything but driving down the street enjoying his youth as a Black Queer artist and man. So they mad about that?

Well those days are over.

-Rogiérs is a writer, international recording artist, performer and indie label manager with 25+ years in the music industry. He also directs Black Nonbelievers of DC, a non-profit org affiliated with the AHA supporting Black skeptics, Atheists, Agnostics & Humanists. He holds a B.A. in Music Business & Mgmt and a M.A. in Global Entertainment & Music Business from Berklee College of Music and Berklee Valencia, Spain. www.FibbyMusic.net Twitter/IG: @Rogiers1

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peach-pops · 4 years ago

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Hello! Do you remember "Dating a Hothead/easily angered girlfriend" blog from anonymous? Can I request for Akaashi, Kageyama, Ushijima, Sugawara, and Tsukishima of how will they react to their s/o? Thank you! I really really really love that blog! It really reminds me of me of being sassy 😂. Anyways, sorry for bothering you *bows*

Author’s note: UGH Im so sorry this took me so long to get out! I only did Kageyama and Akaashi cause I wanted a bit of a contrast hope that’s okay! Also, I wanna point out that there’s nothing wrong with defending yourself, even if things do get violent. I don’t condone violence I’m just saying to protect yourself in the best way possible!

Here’s the first part!

Akaashi and Kageyama with a Hotheaded Girlfriend

-Akaashi-

Akaashi knows how angry you get so he always does his best to try and make sure everything goes smoothly to avoid any casualties

BUT Akaashi can’t control every little thing and he realizes this fairly early in your relationship

I’m a full believer that Bokuto loves raves and clubbing and because of this, he usually drags you and Akaashi along

One night you three and a couple of other Fukurodani members are out clubbing and immediately, Akaashi surveys the room: where are the exits? Where’s the bathroom? Which group looks like trouble? Where did his girlfriend and best friend go???

He spots a group of girls near the bar that are a part of a bachelorette party who are a bit rowdy but he kinda brushes them off cause there’s nothing threatening about six girls wearing cheap wedding veils

You guys get your own private table in the corner ( bless Konoha and his connections) and after an hour or two of drinking and dancing, you take the initiative to go buy the next round of drinks cause that’s just club etiquette and you’re lowkey ballin

Let’s get it miss independent !!!! 😤 😤 😤

Akaashi offers to go with you but you tell him to watch Bokuto cause he might bust his head from dancing on the table

Once you make it to the bar, you decide just to order a pretty expensive bottle for the table because you’re not confident in your ability to carry six shots back without spilling it everywhere

You pay for the bottle and start making your way back to the table when you see the bridal party from earlier hanging out at your table. You see two girls laughing side by side with Bokuto (ok my dude get some) BUT THEN you search for Akaashi and sure enough, you see him visibly uncomfortable as the ‘soon to be bride’ tries sitting in your mans lap.

Akaashi looks up and he’s conflicted cause he wants your help to get this drunk girl off of him but he also knows you’re crazy and you might kill her in the process

“ Your hair looks so sexy pushed back! Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“ Please go away, my girlfriend is coming and she won’t be happy-”

“ Aw girlfriend? No fair why are the cute ones always taken?”

“ Aren’t you getting married?”

You’re gripping the bottle so tight in your hands and Akaashi can see it in your eyes that you are soooo close to hitting this bitch over the head with the bottle

He already knows exactly what you’re thinking and he’s pleading with you not to just with his eyes

Would you kill a girl over sitting in your mans lap? Yeah probably I mean you were fucking crazy

BUT since you could see how serious Akaashi was, you loosened your grip on the bottle and placed it on the table. Before the bride could even look over, you had already lightly nudged pushed her off of Akaashi’s lap and sat down on your boyfriend as if to claim him

“ What is your problem, you didn’t have to push me!” The bride whined as she got off the floor but you kept your glare on her

Akaashi squeezed your thigh to try and calm you down but maybe it was because of the alcohol so you just clenched your fists even tighter

“ You’re lucky all I did was push you. I can’t believe you’re about to get married and you’re trying to straddle my fucking boyfriend!”

Akaashi can feel how tense you are so he sits you on the inside of the booth so he can be in the middle between the girl and you. At this point, you’re sitting next to Bokuto and he’s laughing nervously cause he’s never seen you act like this before but he’s a ride or die so hes automatically team Y/N

“ Are you threatening me?”

“ Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?”

“ Y/N stop-”

“ Yeah, listen to your boyfriend bitch.”

“ WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING A BITCH?!”

Before you can lunge over the table, Akaashi keeps his arm out and blocks you from doing so. He turns to the girl and bows his head, trying not to let his own anger consume him,” I think you should leave.”

“ And what if I don’t want to?” The soon to be bride pokes bitterly as she attempts to wrap her arm around Akaashi’s shoulders,” what is your girlfriend gonna do, hit me?”

She’s right, you can’t launch yourself across the table and your arm doesn’t have the reach but you had alternatives. You grabbed a half-drunken glass of some brown rum and you flung the alcohol into the girls face

Everyone at the table was SHOCKED, lowkey including you cause you didn’t even mean to throw the drink in her face it just happened YOU SWEAR it was just an instinct

Who could blame you I mean you were so mad plus you had been watching so many compilations of “ Best Housewives Fights from Bravo” that it was the first thing you could think of

Akaashi, bless him and his brilliant mind, immediately blocked your body with his because the soon to be bride tries climbing into the booth to beat you up and Bokuto also has a protective grip on your wrist to stop you from killing her

LUCKILY before you could spill any blood, security comes and forces the girl to leave your table

At first, you thought Akaashi was mad at you so you kind of pout and tell him how sorry you were but Akaashi doesn’t even care he just makes sure you’re okay

In his head, he knows maybe you were in the wrong for pushing the girl but he would never admit it outloud cause he values his life

My heart swoons for this man

Bokuto on the other hand is slapping your back and shaking your shoulders going,” Holy crap Y/N that was AWESOME!!!”

-Kageyama-

You and Kageyama had only recently started dating so he probably doesn’t have any idea how mad you could get. He’s seen a few times where you’ve gotten upset over school or your family problems but he still didn’t think too much about it

Who was he to be put off at having an easily angered s/o when he was balancing between his own emotions?

Anyway! You were one of Karasuno’s managers and you and Kiyoko got SO CLOSE! The job was super easy and it meant you could spend more time with your boyfriend so win-win!

The only part that was ever hard for you was other guys constantly hitting on you and Kiyoko like damn okay you both were hot as hell but at least treat girls with respect?

You didn’t mind guys telling you that you both were pretty caused duh you two already knew that but most of them were SOOO disgusting and you never let it slide

Before one of Karasuno’s games, you were on the sidelines with Kiyoko chatting about the next match when you could hear some of the guys from the other team trying to get your attention

“ Damn, Karasuno girls really are as fine as they say, they look soooo good.”

“ God, the things I would do if I was alone with them.”

“ I know you two can hear us, turn around so we can see what we’re working with.”

You just kept your eyes locked onto your clipboard because you didn’t want Kageyama to see how fucking crazy you could get but JESUS it was so hard when these two guys were harassing you

“ Kiyoko, I will fucking lose my mind if they come over here. I think I’m going to snap someone’s neck,” You said through gritted teeth as you watched your boyfriend warm up.

“Maybe you should go cool off in the bathroom before the game starts. I’ll let Kageyama-Kun know what’s going on and I’ll meet you in the hallway,” Kiyoko suggested as you gave her prayer hands cause she really do be a queen

You took your clipboard with you as if it was a weapon and stomped out to the bathroom cause you knew if you stayed in that gym any longer, you would cause a scene

You rinsed your face in the bathroom and you took a few deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down

Your friends and family always told you that you needed to get your anger under control and now that you were dating, the last thing you needed was to scare Kageyama off

When you started to head out towards the gym, you felt in the air that something was off like spidey senses but instead, it’s like a creep radar was sounding off in your head

That’s when you saw Kiyoko and one of the guys from earlier cornering her against a wall

You can see that Kiyoko was visibly uncomfortable and you were just about to push your limit

“ I said to leave me alone. I’m waiting for a friend.”

“ Oh, you mean the other manager? I’m telling you, we would treat you like absolute queens at our school-”

“ Hey dude, back the hell off!” You shoved the guy to the side pretty hard to the point where he stumbled back a few good feet,” fucking creep.”

This dude, this mf has the audacity to POST UP TO YOU! You’re not even intimidated by him even though he’s easily half a foot taller than you

Like he’s in your face cause now he’s pissed that this girl actually managed to shove him pretty hard

“ Lay your hands on me again and see what happens.”

“ Are you threatening me? Cause if you are, go on and try to hit me I fucking dare you!”

Kiyoko is like nuh uh not on my watch and while im pretty sure kiyoko can throw fucking hands, she ran to go get Kageyama like “ go get ur girl”

This alerts pretty much the whole team even though they’re supposed to be warming up, they go with Kageyama cause if the boys hear your name and that you need help, they get hella protective

Kageyama slides over to the hallway and sees this dude yelling in your face and he sees red when the guy lays a hand on your shoulder

Before Kageyama can even make it over to you, you smash your clipboard over the guys head so hard, he hits the floor

BUT BRUH once he hits the floor you don’t! Stop! hitting ! him!

Like that clipboard is the perfect weapon oml

“ Don’t! Ever! Touch! Me!” You literally bash him after every word and this dude can’t even fight back like I personally dont feel bad but ummmmm you might commit murder

Kageyama rushes over to you and grabs you so you can stop and he’s trying to calm you down but once the word “bitch” slips out of the guys mouth, Kageyama grabs him by the jersey and is shaking him like a ragdoll

“ Watch your goddamn mouth before I put my fist through it!”

And you’re still heated so you want to basically jump this dude with your boyfriend cause romance ya know but Suga is holding you back ( he highkey struggling)

And now Noya and Tanaka are trying to hold Kageyama back because while they definitely would’ve reacted the same way, they don’t want Kageyama to go overboard

“ What did you just say? Go on and say it again-”

“ Kageyama please!”

“ You’re lucky I’m getting held back-”

“ Y/N! Enough!”

Just two lovebirds threatening a dudes life I love it

Things get resolved pretty quickly thanks to daddy daichi calming everyone down and now it’s time for the match to start

Suga lets go of you when Kageyama walks over and the first thing he does is hug you tightly. He practically squeezes the life out of you like this experience really showed how protective he was

He even admits that while he’s glad you can handle yourself, you shouldn't have to stand up to people alone and 100% doesn’t think you overreacted at all especially when Kiyoko thanks you for sticking up for her

He’s a bit intimidated by how you acted only because he had never saw you that mad before but he doesn’t blame you for how you handled it

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 4 years ago

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Answer asap (I feel bad saying that, but I'm stuck). Do you have any resources for dating/not dating non-christians? A dear friend of mine told me they care for me, and I feel the same for them, but... all the resources online warn again and again not to date non-christians lest they endanger my faith. I feel like going forward with this would be ignorant at best and would set us both up for heartbreak. And I fear my fear itself would lead to me trying to convert them. But I still care for them.

Hey, anon! Thanks for reaching out -- the rhetoric among many Christians against interfaith relationships, particularly with the argument that they’re “unequally yoked,” is something I haven’t addressed in years, and have been meaning to discuss again.

Little disclaimer at the start that this stuff is so contextual, and it’s personal -- I don’t know your life as well as you do, or this friend of yours like you do. Maybe what i say doesn’t fit you and your situation.

_____________

To begin, I firmly believe that interfaith relationships can be and often are truly beautiful, holy partnerships. (This includes relationships in which one or multiple members identifies as an atheist / otherwise doesn’t ascribe to a particular religion.)

When both (or all) members are respectful of one another’s beliefs, and find as much joy in learning as in teaching their partner(s), their unique perspectives can deeply enrich one another. You can bear good fruit together that glorifies God and nourishes others.

This being said, you definitely want to at least begin working through your worries and fears before starting to date this person. If you enter the relationship overwhelmed with fear or guilt about dating them, it’ll bring a lot of resentment and angst. The rest of this post points out things you’ll want to reflect on and read up on before entering this or any interfaith relationship -- and offers resources that can help.

_________

Interfaith Partners: Always “Unequally Yoked”?

I’m sure you’ve seen a certain phrase on those websites you mentioned, drawn from 2 Corinthians 6:14 -- “unequally yoked.” I’m going to end this post with some alternative ways of interpreting this verse, but what Christians who advise against interfaith relationships take it to mean is something like this:

Just as two animals yoked to the same plow should be of equal strength and on the same page so that one doesn’t do more of the work, or get tugged away from the work by the other one, two partners should also be of equal “spiritual” strength and on the same page when it comes to their faith...

And of course, these people will say, a person who is Christian is definitely spiritually stronger than any non-Christian -- and a non-Christian might just pull them away from The Way, getting them to skip church or prayers or even stop being Christian entirely.

But there are a lot of assumptions there that don’t hold true in every relationship, right? First off, who says every Christian is necessarily “spiritually stronger” than every non-Christian? To claim that is to assume that non-Christians don’t also have access to spirituality or to the Divine -- which I’m going to push against throughout this post.

Furthermore, the assumption that a non-Christian partner will definitely harm your own Christian faith doesn’t have to be true, as I’ll get to in a second.

So yeah, keeping these assumptions about an interfaith relationship being inherently “unequally yoked” in mind, and with a plan on returning to this phrase at the end, let’s move on to specific things you should think about before entering an interfaith relationship.

______________

Must a non-Christian partner “endanger” your faith -- or can they enrich it?

If being open to learning about how our fellow human beings perceive the world, humanity, and the divine “endangers one’s faith,” perhaps that kind of faith was not made to last. Perhaps it has to give way in order to birth a new, deeper faith -- a faith that is bold enough to wrestle with God as Jacob did; broad enough to survive questions and doubts and times of grief; and wise enough to perceive the Spirit blowing wherever She will (John 3:8), not only among Christians.

If your partner truly respects you and your faith even if it’s different from theirs, they’ll do what they can to help you be the best Christian you can be -- or at the very least, they will give you the space and time you need to go to church, pray, etc. And you will do the same, helping them to be the best Muslim, Buddhist, or simply person they can be.

I highly recommend asking this friend of yours before you start dating what their thoughts are on your being a Christian, and/or on Christianity in general.

Is it something that makes them happy for you? is it something that makes them deeply uncomfortable? or something that they don’t have strong feelings one way or the other on? .

How “involved” would they be open to being in your faith? Would they be interested in going to church with you, as long as they could trust you weren’t trying to force them into anything? Would they enjoy talking about your varying beliefs together and how they impact your lives? Or would they never ever want you to bring up Christianity (which I imagine for you would be a deal breaker)? .

Be open and honest with one another about what expectations you each have about things like boundaries around discussing faith, about time and space you each want for practicing your faith, etc. As you seem aware, it’s better to get all this clear before you start dating, to avoid problems later down the road!

For an example of what such discussions might look like, I found this story from Robert Repta, a Christian man married to a Jewish man. Their union, he says, has included working out what it means not only to be gay persons of faith, but also persons of two different faiths:

“Ultimately, what happened was that in our struggles to find ourselves, we ended up growing closer together. We both supported and challenged each other. We began asking each other bigger life questions and talking about religion, God, science. Both of our lives were evolving, and what started to happen was that we started seeing the similarities in our core beliefs more than the differences. Some of those beliefs even evolved along the way.

We both believed in God. We both believed that God is love. We volunteered together. He would occasionally come with me to church, and I would occasionally go with him to the synagogue. Eventually, I could see that the common thread between us was unconditional love. The same unconditional love of God.”

_____________

On pressuring a non-Christian partner to convert -- assumptions about Christian superiority & fearing for their afterlife destination

It’s really good you recognize that it might end up being hard for you not to try to get this person to convert! Before dating them, you should keep reflecting on this and decide whether that’s something you can let go of or not. If it’s not, then you’re probably right in thinking this relationship won’t work out.

It would be highly disrespectful to this person you care about to pressure them to become a Christian in order for you to feel okay about being with them. (And for more thoughts on how evangelism and conversion as carried out by many Christians isn’t what Jesus had in mind, see this post.) Doing so would imply a lot of things, including that you don’t think they’re a worthy or equal partner unless they make this big change, that whatever beliefs or ideologies they currently hold are inferior to yours, etc.

In order for your interfaith relationship to go well, you would need to come to understand non-Christians as being equally made in God’s image, equally worthy of dignity, equally capable of doing good in the world. You’d have to come to believe that there is much of value within their own religion / ideology that you as a Christian could learn from.

Let’s bring in our lovely Christian/Jewish couple from before: as his relationship with David developed, Robert discovered that

“God is not conformed to this world we live in; God does not belong solely to the Pentecostals or the Baptists, to the Jews or Gentiles, to Muslims or Zoroastrians. Two of the most profound self-identifiers God calls himself in the Bible is “love” and “I am.””

Here are a few resources that can help you explore the idea that other religions are as valid as Christianity and also have much wisdom to bring to the world:

I highly recommend you check out the book Holy Envy by Barbara Brown Taylor to help you explore how you can be a devout Christian and learn from and form mutual relationships with persons who are not Christian. You can check out passages from the book in my tag here. .

You might also like my two podcast episodes on interfaith relationships (in general, not romantic ones, but the same material applies) -- episode 30, “No One Owns God: Readying yourself for respectful interfaith encounters” and episode 31, “It's good to have wings, but you have to have roots too": Cultivating your faith while embracing religious pluralism.” You can find links to both episodes as well as their transcripts over on this webpage. .

There might also be some helpful stuff in my #interfaith tag or #other faiths tag if you wander around. .

Simply getting to know whatever religion this friend does belong to (or what ideologies and value systems they maintain if they’re atheist / non-religious) can also be super helpful. Ask them what resources they can think of that can help get to know their religion as they experience it. Attend worship service (virtually works!), seek out folks on social media who share their religion, etc. I bet you’ll find a lot that you have in common -- and hopefully you’ll find some of the differences thought-provoking and enriching to your own understandings of Divinity!

I’m guessing a lot of your worry stems from the assumption that non-Christians don’t go to heaven. If you believe that not being a Christian leads to hell after death, it’s very hard to view non-Christians and their beliefs as equal to your own!

That Holy Envy book discusses this genuine fear many Christians have on behalf of non-Christians, and how to let it go. .

Here’s a post with links to other posts describing the belief that many faithful and serious Christians hold that non-Christians don’t all get whisked to hell. .

And a post on the harm done by fearmongering about hell. .

Finally, a little more on the academic side but if you’re interested in some history behind Christian views of hell that can help you see that there really is no one “true” belief here, check out the links in this post.

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Reinterpreting “unequally yoked”

I said we’d get back to this, and here we are! While the easiest to find interpretation of 2 Corinthians 6:14′s “Do not be unequally yoked together with unbelievers” is that it argues against interfaith marriage, there are other ways to read this text.

I adore this article I found on the passage from a Christian minister who is married to a Hindu monk -- “Unequally Yoked”: How Christians Get Interfaith Marriage Wrong.” Incredibly, Rev. J. Dana Trent writes that when she and her now-husband dug into 2 Corinthians 6:14 to see what it was all about, she found that

“An ancient scripture meant to deter us from getting involved with each other actually brought us together. Our core beliefs in God became the focus of our study and relationship, not the issues that divided us.”

She also explains that biblical scholars say this verse isn’t even specifically about interfaith marriage -- which becomes clear when you read the full chapter surrounding it! It’s more general -- about the hazards of “working with” an unbeliever.

And what exactly is an unbeliever? Paul and other “believers” of these very early days of Christianity had a different definition than we might today -- an “unbeliever” wasn’t synonymous with “non-Christian,” because Christianity hadn’t even solidified into an actual religion yet! Instead, a nonbeliever was "anyone exposed to but was not faithful to Christ’s teachings—someone not characterized by devotion, love, peace, mercy, and forgiveness.”

In other words, if a person in those early days was told about the good news of Jesus that entailed things like liberation of the oppressed and love of neighbor, they didn’t have to “become a Christian” to accept that good news. And thus, Rev. Trent continues,

“Today, my husband’s deep Hindu faith has taught me to dig deeper into what Jesus would have me do. Perhaps Paul might have even considered me an “unbeliever,” as I claimed to be a baptized Christian, but my life did not inwardly and outwardly reflect the Gospel. Since marrying Fred, I re-attuned my life to Christian spiritual practices: spending more time in contemplative prayer, practicing non-violence through a vegetarian diet, limiting my consumption, and increasing my service to others.

Much to many Christians’ dismay, it took a person of another faith—a seemingly “unequally yoked” partner, to strengthen my Christian walk.”

Isn’t it beautiful to hear how this relationship between a Christian minister and Hindu monk has born good fruit for both of them? They help one another become the best Christian and best Hindu they can be, respectively. They are both so deeply committed to faith -- that doesn’t sound like an “unequal yoking” to me.

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Whew, this got long! But it’s a big topic, and one I hope you’ll take the time to explore. Bring God into it; bring your friend into as much as they’re comfortable. And feel free to come back and ask me more questions as you go.

If anyone knows of other articles or other resources that explore the good fruit that can come from an interfaith partnership, please share!

#interfaith relationships #unequally yoked #progressive christians #interfaith dating #Anonymous #relationship tag

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vladdocs · 3 years ago

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Part 1: The peace treaty between the Hungarians and the Turks before the summer of 1462 is another reason why Corvinus stopped the crusade and the money for it was deposited in Hungary.

Some historians, studying the circumstances of 1462, admit the possibility that Matyas Corvinus made a treaty with the Turks before the summer of 1462, which is why the Turks were not waiting for the attack of crusaders, they did not begin to strengthen their borders in 1462, pulling to the fortresses, but gathered only part of their army, went to Wallachia to settle the vassal, please both countries at the time - Hungary and Turkey. There are several reasons for this, in addition to the distrust of Pope Pius II, who suspected the Hungarian in the hypocrisy of collusion with the Turks and questioned him about both the means sent and the reasons for inaction.

Although, as usual, the Turks themselves attributed a huge amount of power to their own numbers, the authors of the 15th century edition of the Corpus Draculianum, Greek, Turkish, Byzantine and other sources, note that the total strength of the Ottoman army at that time was about 110,000-120,000, including all, guards, guards of every fortress, everything. Of this figure approximately 2/3 were ready for mobilization. However, given that it was necessary to mobilize forces in a short period, it is natural that the Turks were able to assemble only 60-70% of these 2/3. Here the authors are interested in the following question: if the Turk knew that he was going against Hungary, Transylvania, Wallachia and others, that is, according to the agreement on the crusade with Pope Pius, this is an extremely rash decision, leading to defeat. To go without gathering maximum strength against the crusaders, to their lands, for the sake of seizing one of the unstable vassals ...in Wallachia?!

Moreover, the Turks never fought with less troops, even with equal numbers they rarely went to battle, more often they fled (read Vavren, Beham, Murad's holy wars, Dukas, Halkocondil). What cannot be said of the Crusaders, for those it was beneath dignity to run away from the battlefield without starting a battle, even if their forces were outnumbered. Here the Turk had to march against a noble number of troops, here Hungary, Transylvania and Wallachia, countries that had to march against the Turk, all with the help and assistance of the Pope and others. And the Turk gathered only a small part of the possible troops and did not go to fortify the borders and fortresses, but to Wallachia, to change the ruler? Suspiciously implausible, because it meant only one thing - defeat.

And another point here does not agree - the goal. Here he was not preparing to defend his borders from a coming campaign, no. Which would have been worth doing. Nor was he fortifying them in preparation for a strike. Not at all . But went with a small, relative to the whole Ottoman army, army, on foreign territory of dubious political stability? What for? To sit his vassal down for a couple of days, who will be immediately removed as soon as the Turks leave Wallachia. After all, the Turkish vassal, in theory, at the time of the actual crusade was unwanted by the Wallachians, Transylvania and Hungary. And here, having collected only a fraction of his troops, the Turk decides to send them for a dubious purpose. After all, Wallachia was not his territory, and he could not and was not going to make it his own. His goal suddenly became not protection from the coming attack of the crusaders, but the desire to settle his vassal, Radu. Very suspicious. As if the Turk already knew perfectly well that the Hungarians and Transylvanian will not be in the campaign, and the campaign itself will not take place. That's why he didn't have to fortify the borders and mobilize the troops, but instead to go to Walachia with a small number of troops (because only one ruler bravely began a crusade in 1462, only one troubled the water). knowing that there will be only Walachians, breaking the head that the army is not all there was no point, and to sit a new challenger easily, if the Hungarians agreed in advance. In this case it all adds up to one picture.

And here's another interesting point, the new Turkish protégé, Radu, was liked by the Hungarians at once, as if warmly expected. And this was even BEFORE the capture of voivode Vlad Draguli Tepes in November, BUT in August. So that the Hungarian king personally began to put pressure in letters to Transylvania (letter of August 15, 1462!), Brasov, forcing it to accept the new, careful, "dear lord Radu" and "keep a firm peace with him" (!, the letter in the article above). However.

After all, if it were not for the suspicious Hungarians' desire to accept the Turkish protege before Corvinus had to join the campaign, given the inconstancy of the Lords, their negative attitude towards Moslems, the new protege could have been immediately removed or killed as soon as the Sultan left Walachia. It would have been a waste of the Sultan's forces on Wallachia. To go for such a shaky goal against Hungary, Transylvania and Wallachia...to put his vassal down for a few days, instead of preparing for a crusader attack and strengthening the borders?

All these actions clearly indicate that the sultan for some reason was well aware that there would not be a crusade, so he did not fear it at all, knowing that only one in Wallachia would oppose him, and in that he was sure that Radu would not drive out, but hospitably received the Hungarians themselves, which made it advisable to replace the lord.

All this once again, not the first, not the second, but once again, indicates that Venice and Pope Pius did not in vain suspect Corvinus of a secret peace treaty with the Turk and tried in vain to find out the real reasons for the arrest of the main leader of the upcoming campaign Draguli. The fact that Giovanni Aymo was sent to Hungary to investigate a secret Hungarian conspiracy with the Turks, at all costs, to reveal the reasons for the arrest of Governor Vlad, as well as, if necessary, to "buy" information about the relationship between Corvinus and the Turkish protégé, Radu, also testifies to the distrust of Corvinus by the Pope himself. And if there is a treaty between Hungary and the Turks, to find out about it.

These behavioral moments of the Turks indicate that before the summer of 1462 they already knew about the true state of affairs and the intentions of Corvinus. But how and how did they go with such confidence with their vassal, as if they knew that Radu would be accepted?

*This article contains excerpts from the 15th-century edition of the Corpus Draculianum collection of sources and excerpts from the authors' comments on the primary sources. _____ Part 2: About how Matyas Corvinus, instead of the crusade, where he swore as a Christian to take part, suddenly had a Turkish protégé at his side, the new ruler in Walachia - Radu.

Letter of August 15, 1462 (note the date, this date before the capture of voivode Dragulja, in November, the date when the voivode Tepes was still waiting for the promised aid and the start of the crusade) , from Cluj-Napoca, vice-commissar Albert of Istenmezeye (secei, de Istenmezeye). In this letter, Vicecomis Matyas of Istenmezeye calls the new ruler a Turk protégé and insists that the rulers of Brasov and Castellan Bran ("castro Terch" Törcsvár) accept the new Turkish ruler, look after him and (!) maintain an indestructible peace with him. Viceromys Matyáš calls the Turkish protégé "the glorious lord Radul, the new voivode" (!) :

Sagaci viri amici nostril carissimi, Praesentium serie rogamus vestras dilectiones et prudentias, quatenus trewgas pacis cum illustri principi Radul nunc waywoda partium Transalpinarum per vos usque ad terminum praefixum dispositas firmiter et inviolabiliter observare usque ad illud certum tempus quem disposuistis velitis (!). Scripsimus enim per alias literas nostras castellanis nostris in castro Terch constitutis, ut et ipsi iuxta dispositionem vestram ipsas trewgas pacis bonomodo et inviolabiliter observare debeant et teneantur. Insuper hominibus nostris in quibus poteritis petimus subveniatis. Datum in Closwar in festo assumptionis beatae Mariae virginis, anno domini et cetera LXIIdo.

Albertus de Istenmezeye vicecomes Siculorum et cetera.

A dominis autem rege et waywoda ac regni nobilibus nihilominus formidetis in hac parte, quia aliud hinc facere.

Addressed to the judges and counselors of Brasov: Sagacibus viris iudici et iuratis ac universis consultantibus in civitate Brassowiensi constitutis et commorantibus, amicis nostris dilectis.

Just to imagine, the letter of February 11, 1462, of the governor Vlad Draguli Tepes, who was waiting for the promised forces in the crusade:

"I ask you to gather all your country, all the men able to fight, both on horseback and on foot, and bring them to our Wallachia, deigning to fight with us yourself. And if Your Majesty does not wish to come personally, please send your entire army to your Transylvanian possessions by St. George's Day (April 23rd), and if Your Majesty does not wish to send her army to our aid, then send whoever you wish, at least the Transylvanian and Secular troops. If Your Majesty wishes to come to our aid, kindly do not delay in replying, but let us honestly know of your intentions. We also ask you not to delay our man who delivered this letter this time, but send him back as soon as possible, for we intend by no means to retreat from what has already been begun and intend to go to the very end. For if the Lord Almighty hears the prayers and groanings of Christians and grants us the opportunity to overcome the pagans and the enemies of the Cross of Christ, this will be the highest honor and benefit to Your Majesty and to Orthodox Christianity; we do not wish to flee from the barbarism of the pagans, but we wish to fight them with all our might. And if, God forbid, it should happen that our little country should disappear, it would not do Your Grace any good, for it would harm the whole Christian world."

On 15 August 1462 Corvinus already urged Brasov to accept a new lord, the Sultan's henchman. Not even bothering to fight the Turks. And in November the governor of Tepes was suddenly taken prisoner on an unbelievable pretext. It turns out that he was not going on any campaign.

After all, the support of Radu guaranteed Matyas Corvinus peace with the Turks, and this is much more convenient and comfortable than a crusade to protect the Christian world. Thus Matyas himself went to make peace with the sultan, after which, after the summer of 1462, he accused Dragoole of trying to make peace with the sultan by means of a forged treaty without a signature and seal. But the forged treaty did not pass for a real treaty even then, Pope Pius did not believe in its authenticity, moreover knowing the zeal of Draguli for the Turks, and for the pope it was not enough to explain that the crusade would not take place, because he had already sent money for the crusade through the Hungarian court, that is, through the hands of Korvin, hands that this money will never leave. And Corvinus had to do something to cover the rest of the Christians who were already on the march, to cover his peace with the Turk, because he was not going to fight, it was not his business, and now, in the fall, he kept Vlad Dracula locked up, the one on whom he had placed his hopes for the coming march. And it was during this period that numerous pamphlets about the rampant cruelty of the undesirable, eager to fight, the crusader Dragoole, suddenly began to spread actively. An interesting coincidence, the dates of pamphlets and manuscripts, with the very first, begin in 1463, and then from year to year are copied.

The letter in question is in the Brasov archives.

Seal: Round, green wax, sealed on the wrap.

Text: Hurmuzaki, Documente ... XV, 1, 58 Nr. 99.

Voevoda Vlad Dragulja himself did not know about Corvinus' betrayal (not the first, but the third (!) plot with new pretenders behind Vlad's back, and not the last), he still hoped that he would keep his word given to all Christians and join with his army. From June (Mehmed was already in Adrianople on July 11) until November (! when already in August Corvinus had long been on good terms with the Turks, as the document shows) he would wait for good news, so that he could continue the campaign, to marry Justina, as had been planned. And only in November 1462 voivod Vlad will meet with Corvinus, but the results of the meeting will be different.

And although the report of the subject Petre Tomasi was accepted at the official level, on 18 April 1463, the Senate asks its new ambassador to Buda, Giovanni Aimo, to investigate the matter at all costs, to reveal the reasons for the arrest of Governor Vlad, and, if necessary, "buy" information about the relationship on the case of Korvin and the Turkish protégé Radu. And if there is a treaty between Hungary and the Turks, to find out.

"Sapientes Consitij et.

Circumspecto et Sapienti Viro Petro Thomasio, Secretario nostro in Hungaria.

Petre! Reddite sunt nobis littere tue dierum primi, tercij et XXVI. Novembris, quas in eam usque diem retinisse seribis, quia sic visum fuit Regie Majestati Hungarie ex causis et respectibus in litteris tuis contentis. Intelleximus ex eis, quecunque tunc usque occursa illis in partibus, ac casum retentionis Draguli olim Vaivode, circa quam rem idem Serenissimus Rex etiam per suas litteras nobis scripsit, et respondentes tibi dicimus, quod laudantes prudentiam et diligentiam tuam,...... "

"....infestum casum Vaivode olim Valachie, qui adversus Majstatem Vestram, regnumque vestrum tantum facimus perpetrare molitus erat "

*The article contains, among other things, notes from the observations of the historian Maria Rocha.

#Vlad Tepes #Vlad Dracula #vlad the impaler #Ladislau Dragkwlya #documents #history #wallachia #romania #Matthias Corvinus #The betrayal of Matthias Corvinus #Hungarians deal with the turks

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