#that might not have been bible camp | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

actual-changeling · 1 year ago

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I have written many meta posts and s3-theories, and read even more, but I got hit by an idea I have not seen before. (If there is another post, please link it!)

After vibrating for an hour and losing my mind in my dms, I have no scraped together enough brain cells to present what is probably my first actual 'main-plot meta'.

Welcome to another edition of Alex's unhinged meta corner, today with a title to honour Crowley's James Bond obsession and the possibility of another heaven heist.

I give you:

From Jesus with Love - You Will Live Twice

Now, let's get right into it.

I think Neil might have told us more about the main s3 plotline in the announcement article than we previously thought. We all got stuck on 'they're not talking'—for good reason—but it is the part before that which has been bugging me ever since then.

The plans are going wrong—and this time that is a problem for earth and humanity. Turning that around, it means that whatever that plan consists of would be the way to go and beneficial for everyone, the opposite of the main plot of s1.

"They need to prevent the Second Coming (SC)" is pretty much the only and most popular idea I have seen, hundreds of fics and metas and whatnot have been written about it, but I think there's a good chance we're wrong. If we're not, well, I will honestly just be happy to be watching season 3.

Whatever the Metatron is planning will have negative consequences for everyone, or as Michael puts it: "And so… it ends. Everything ends. Time and the world is over, and we begin Eternity… forever and ever."

It sounds very much like Apocalypse #1 - Same Old Plan, same expected result, yet if we look at different interpretations of scripture we find that the SC is not entirely about complete destruction and death for all of humanity—it is about creating a new world/migrating to the kingdom of God.

This is taken from the Wikipedia article about the SC

Resurrection and life in a world to come are a direct contradiction to the result Michael is explaining—total annihilation of humanity.

Now, I am neither religious in any way nor have I ever received any sort of biblical education. Luckily, Christians seem to love talking about the bible because there are dozens of bible website to wade through. If I get anything wrong, please point it out, I have never touched a bible in my life.

So, after reading many, many quotes by a bunch of different guys, I tried to create a somewhat coherent picture of what the SC might look like based on the assumption that the end result is positive. I will talk about how they can be interpreted more in-depth later, otherwise this would turn into a string-net very fast.

Additionally, we can also see where these points overlap with the statement Jimbriel gave in the bookshop in episode three.

What is Jesus' job description?

only God knows when and how exactly it will begin/happen, no one else does, including Jesus and the Metatron

a lot of different catastrophes are mentioned or quoted as something Jesus said, like earthquakes and storms -> Jimbriel mentioned a tempest and great storms

there is also the line "All these are the beginning of birth pains." Birth pains dictate that there will be a birth—birth of the world to come perhaps?

dead people will be resurrected/leave their graves so that they too can be judged (I'd say participate in it but that sounds like the Second Coming is a summer camp activity)

there are also mentions of stars and the heavens in general falling from the sky and the sun going dark -> Jimbriel also mentions darkness as one of the signs

great lamentations, as Jimbriel says, are also a part of many different passages, with humans mourning the world as it was

the Lord will descent with the voice of an Archangel and the sound of a trumpet/the trumpet of God; the grammatical structure of that sentence seems to be interpreted differently depending on who you ask, but the voices of angels/an Archangel and some sort of trumpet are common terms

once everyone is in heaven/wherever the 'main even' will take place, a judgement call will be made for every single person in relation to the book of life, which decides whether they will be punished forever or not (one passage talks about a lake of fire and mentions it several times in a row)

And this is where it gets tricky. To figure out what the SC looks like, we first need to understand a) what the Metatron's capabilities are, b) what he has to lose, and c) what exactly would be a threat to him.

If you ask me, all of this comes down to the Metatron wanting to stay and be in power for eternity with full control over angels so he can do as he please, aka keeping the system running as it is.

We know the book of life (bol) is a thing in the Good Omens universe, whether it does what Michael said is an entirely different question. So far, we have also only got confirmation that hell collects and tortures souls—in such large amounts that they are understaffed—while heaven looks completely empty.

The Metatron runs heaven as an institution, he seems to be the highest power any of the angels have access to and the one they defer to. He refers to himself as the voice of God and combines judge, jury and executioner, making him one great celestial dictator.

From what we know of hell, they do things a lot more democratically, having different councils, dukes, and ranks that are responsible for different levels of command.

We also know that that the Metatron wants the world to end, his goals can probably be summarized as the statement Michael makes, which would leave him in charge without any opposing forces.

We also also know that he sees Crowley and Aziraphale as a threat—why exactly remains a mystery for now—and that the success of his plan hinges on having a Supreme Archangel (SA) he can control. Gabriel decided to become princess of hell and Beez' sugar baby, so he was out of the equation, and after the Armageddon disaster, I don't think he wants to risk failing because of an unfamiliarity with earth (plus, y'know, getting our two idiots away from the plan).

It's interesting to me that right at the end, he says to Aziraphale "We call it the Second Coming"—call, not it is or it will be, CALL. We know that nothing Neil writes is a coincidence, definitely not with such an important line.

Just because you CALL something a specific name doesn't mean it IS what you call it, e.g. Aziraphale calls Crowley a foul fiend when we know he very much isn't.

The Metatron is selling his plan as part of the "Great/Ineffable Plan", so any questions can be blocked by saying it's God's will, it's ineffable. Whatever his plan is, he hides it behind the concept of the Second Coming, which angels know just enough about to understand the basics without having in-depth knowledge of what exactly it entails.

It is a good fucking strategy, I'll give him that, and it WORKS because angels—even if they have doubts—do not question. They simply don't; fear of punishment and millennia of conditioning have left them in a horrible place. When they encounter something unknown, their response is "I already knew that" as to not ask questions.

Crowley questions, we know that, and Aziraphale, ohhhhh, Aziraphale ALSO questions, but he does it in a less dangerous and obvious way. The Metatron is vastly underprepared for that.

(Side note: That alone would be its own meta post, but the gist is that he questions heaven's plans and then adjusts his assumptions of what God might want to what he WANTS God to want, e.g. Job, the Arch)

To summarize everything I just said, the Metatron wants to do what Armageddon failed to do—destroy earth and the universe—so he can be supreme dictator of all remaining celestial beings and gorge himself on power.

But instead of calling it his Big Evil Plan, he calls it the Second Coming, making everyone play along without resistance.

We cycle aaaaall the way back to the sentence I quoted—the ACTUAL plans are going wrong since the Metatron's would mean total destruction.

But what is the SC supposed to be if not the Apocalypse 2.0?

When I look at all the different aspects of the SC and assume a positive outcome, then the end result to me would be a new world that is pretty much like the old world, or maybe even literally the old world but with any destruction reversed. Heaven and hell get dissolved since now that everyone has been "judged", they as institutions are no longer needed, they have fulfilled their purpose.

No more judgement means there is no reason to keep track anymore, so why do you need to run celestial corporations whose only job is doing exactly that? You don't—and THAT is what I believe is the biggest perceived threat to the Metatron, losing full control over everyone and everything, losing his position, his title, and whatever else he has.

On top of that, Good Omens has told us again and again that God doesn't seem to give a fuck about good and evil anymore, and that without heaven and hell being all wrapped up in it, humanity would have 100% free will without any consequences.

Maybe the BoL is empty, maybe it isn't real, maybe Jesus stole it to straighten a wobbly table, who knows. There is a chance it is what Michael says, but I would admittedly find that a bit. too obvious and boring since it would boil the plot down to "they save their own asses again" and not "they save humanity at all cost".

Regarding Crowley and Aziraphale's role in this—I have Thoughts TM but those definitely need their own post. In short, they have to get the SC back on track, the real one.

If you have made it this far, thank you for working through what I hope are more or less coherent rambles. Any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own.

Questions? Thoughts? Corrections? Expansions and additions?

Feel free to add to this post however you like (and I can't believe I have to mentions this but if you clown on my post or behave like an asshole you will be blocked).

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depressedraisin · 11 months ago

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notes on "mr. snarl"

hello, hello, hello welcome to the mr. snarl is high camp discourse. i've been readin' and thinkin' and drivin' myself nuts over this, so i'll be blabberin' on for a good minute. bear with me.

before we dive into any discussion of camp, we ofcourse need to understand what camp is in the first place. camp as an idea is nearly impossible to neatly put down in a few words or a sentence. it has no definition as of such. camp is loud. camp is ostentatious. camp is exaggerated. camp is 'too much'. camp is gay. camp is ironic. camp is cheeky. drag is camp. marlene dietrich is camp. baroque art is camp. cher is camp. mommie dearest (1981) is camp. the rocky horror picture show (1975) is camp. dostoevsky is camp.

the girlies who get camp get it, those who don't, don't.

however we do have susan sontag's 1964 seminal essay 'notes on "camp"' from where most of our contemporary ideas and understanding of 'camp' comes from. in her essay, sontag noted 58 points on what camp is or might be. for our purposes in this post, we'll go by those. because it is the camp bible of course. and i am a pretentious bitch.

now before we get to the meat of the matter, a quick detour to discuss the many faces of alex turner.

alex's personas have now come to as closely associated to his image as an artist and public figure as blonde wigs are with dolly parton, i suppose. it even has its own section in alex's wiki page. he is one those performers to whom the "eras" concept can truly and perfectly apply. he is a different man on stage with every new album, each 'era' is unique from the other and distinctly defined. a new 'era' for alex is not only a change of a haircut or a new pallette, it is a total revamping of his mannerisms and performance style and public image. be it mr. schwarz (the car era), mark (tbhc era) or oliver tate sr. (early sias era), each one of his personas is another way in which he represents the themes of that album. understanding a persona is integral to understanding the album.

and alex admits to as such. each Performer is a fractured reflection of his own self, and of the album.

but. but. i do not think that he has always made use of the Performer, or atleast, tried to make perceivable distinctions between them. in the first three-four years of his career- during WPSIATWIN and FWN, he presented as just Some Guy. just another normal bloke from sheffield. which, you could argue, was the persona that fit the context of those albums, but i would say that he was probably not putting that much thought into it at the time. it isn't until TAOTU that we see alex using his on-stage fashion to project a certain kind of image that ties in with the music he's playing. (do i think it's miles' handiwork? yes.). the lil suits and ties and beatles-mop cuts, y'know.

the first distinct Performer appears during the Humbug era. the soft-spoken, brooding, fawn-mannered poet who is probably hiding a bagful of secrets and hang-ups behind those layers of brown curls- let's call her him aly. then we have the bright-eyed, puppy-smiled, deep-voiced loverboy of the early SIAS era. i propose to call him oliver tate sr. (after the guy from submarine (2010) obviously). then mr. snarl- we'll get to him later. the loud and theatrical and slutty and deliciously gay EYCTE era persona. then the melancholic space poet mark of TBH&C and finally the suave auteur of The Car- mr. schwarz.

mr. snarl is the one who has garnered the most fascination and endured the most in popular imagination. dare i say, AM-era alex turner is a lowkey late 2010s pop culture icon. it is very easy to understand why- the quiff, the leather jackets, the perpetual sunglasses, the biker boots, the LA drawl tinging his sheffield accent, the devil-may-care wantoness. the girlies on tiktok and pinterest aren't obsessed with him for nothing.

so, what makes mr. snarl camp? what am i yapping on about?

let's get back to sontag.

camp is artificial. camp is ironic. mr. snarl is too. he is a character. he is a mask. *cue the bourne identity and body paint*. 'artificial' does not imply fake or dishonest. we should be careful not to be quick in putting any value judgement onto this artificiality- the aritifice is a quality of camp. you can't appreciate camp, if you snigger at the artificial.

2. camp is character. mr. snarl is a character if there ever was one. extremely defined, visually and behaviourally- you see a performance and can immediately recognise the moment mr. snarl is peeking through. he is also very intensely one thing- very intensely masculine, very intensely rockabilly, very intensely rock god. he is 'instant character' as sontag puts it, which is why perhaps he so immediately and so firmly gripped our collective imagination.

3. camp is exaggerated. camp is style. do i even need to elaborate on this? Ben Beaumont-Thomas of The Guardian said it much better than i could- alex ironically "played with the role" of being a rockstar but simultaneously "can't help but be a real rock star." so, to put it in sontagian terms, he is not a rockstar but a "rock star"

the 2014 brit awards speech is the peak of this ironic, exaggerated performance i think. (i'm still waiting for someone to do a drag performance based on it).

4. but to me, what makes mr. snarl camp is his performance of gender. now let's get one thing clear- camp is not effeminate or queer behaviour. it is the "spirit of extravagance", so any kind of extravagant and ironic presentation of gender can be under the purview of camp.

this performance of gender is not the david bowie or marc bolan or brian molko kind, no. this performance of gender is much subtle, much more nuanced- he wasn't playing around with rigid definitions of gender or crossing gender lines. he wasn't trying to say something with it necessarily. i doubt even, if it was a purposeful thing that he was thinking of back then.

but mr. snarl is a performance of gender. it is a performance of masculinity. and the thing that makes it so very interesting is that it was a cis, straight man doing it.

[if y'all are interested, another interesting example is dolly parton + her persona + her performance of exaggerated femininity. for more on that i'll point you towards be kind rewind's video essay on her.]

mr. snarl was an image of a very certain kind of masculinity. 1950s, elvis presley, rockabilly, greasers, james dean- these are some of the pop culture touchstones that come to mind when we think of mr. snarl. he is also decidedly american. a "fictional character from america" as alex later put it. was this whole persona thing an effort to conquer america then? perhaps...but eh. there is no way i can conclusively say that. it certainly helped that cause. AM the album was very us-american in essence-- it drew from hiphop and r&b after all. the soundscape of the arctic monkeys was very much rooted in its northern british indie roots, and AM was the first one that was clearly not. and mr. snarl was just a visual reflection of that. [for more on how the arctic monkeys conquered the us]

mr. snarl was a certain kind of masculine in a way alex turner personas haven't been previously or since. he has always presented as conventionally masculine. even the humbug persona- him being my girlfriend notwithstanding- is not much different from the aesthetics of say, ray davies or mick jagger or george harrison back in the 60s and 70s. the slightly effeminate dramaticism of eycte is not exactly gender-bending as such.

but mr. snarl was hypermasculine. masculinity has had an interesting place in his lyrics up until they- they are both critical ('brianstorm' 'a certain romance') and fascinated ('jeweller's hand' 'catapult') of more aggressive masculine characteristics. (he does use a lot of very sexual but not necessarily erotic language to describe said masculinity- but that's another can of worms.) mr. snarl was in a way, alex being those characters from those songs he was writing about. mr. snarl also very aggressively straight. straight with a capital s. his songs in AM still had the self-abasing and submissive undertones to the narrator that love songs from humbug and sias, but much toned down. he was out there shouting out his girlfriend on stage. and who can forget the "ladiessssssss!" moment. he had models hanging off him in photoshoots.

you probably saw these photos and thought- "what the fuck?!" with a cackle. that is exactly what makes mr. snarl camp. the irony, the ridiculousness of it all.

5. i don't think alex was trying to be or do camp. camp is best when it is not intentional. i can even confidently wager alex would not take it as a compliment if i showed him this essay. a lot of very "serious" people look down upon camp as something lowbrow and tacky and unserious. but it isn't. i would go ahead and classify mr. snarl under naive camp- he is trying to be straightlaced and serious, but failing grandly, which makes it deliciously camp.

so. mr. snarl was an exaggerated representation of masculinity. in a sense, mr. snarl was basically drag. alex turner being "Alex Turner".

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #the last shadow puppets #camp #susan sontag #i spent wayyyy to much time on this #journal of alex turner studies

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justinspoliticalcorner · 2 months ago

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LATROBE, Pa. — When fascism finally went mainstream in America, it came hawking a $60 made-in-China Bible and shadowed by a 50-foot American flag braced by construction cranes — and it opened with a story about Arnold Palmer’s private parts. I’d driven nearly five hours into and under the Allegheny ridges of Western Pennsylvania — up and down slopes that got steeper each mile with the volume of Donald Trump flags and yard signs that proclaimed “I’m Voting for the Convict 2024″ — out of a sense that the decline and fall of American civilization has reached a depth that I needed to personally bear witness. It was a fever dream — maybe I could find words that have eluded everyone else. Just six days earlier, Trump came to the Philly suburbs and turned a supposed town hall into a 39-minute dance party as his deeply confused crowd watched a once and wannabe future U.S. president sway awkwardly to Sinead O’Connor and Luciano Pavarotti or look utterly frozen in the bubble of his 78-year-old head. And yet when the alarm goes off the next morning, it’s still Groundhog Day in America, an election with a 50% chance of the music-trance guy winning. Something both incredibly momentous and weird is happening at the same time. Now, the sun was nearly setting over the runway at Arnold Palmer Regional Airport. With the most consequential U.S. presidential election since 1860 just 17 days away, about 3,000 to 4,000 of the most die-hard MAGA Trump fans who weren’t exhausted by the campaign and the GOP candidate’s frequent visits to Steelers’ country had been waiting for hours on a sunbaked tarmac. They’d let out the obligatory whoop for the obligatory flyover of Trump Force One, and then finally the man tasked with bringing their country back was on the podium, filtered by bulletproof glass. Donald Trump’s red meat of mass-deportation camps and R-rated attacks on his opponents would have to wait. Monday’s DJ was now Saturday night’s comedian, with his cult as captive audience. What started out as an obligatory shout-out to Latrobe’s famous native son — Palmer, the late great golfer who brought the sport to your TV screens in the 1960s — went on for five minutes, then 10, then 12. What started as a nice but meandering tale about Palmer’s working-class roots grew into a stone silence during long detours into stuff like types of golf club shafts as the tale grew increasingly instead about Trump — about how his own power and wealth allowed him to claim friendship with this great man. You are standing in the twilight wondering if this could get any stranger when of course it did. The man who bragged in his first campaign that he could shoot somebody on Fifth Avenue and people would still vote for him now wants America to know he can tell a penis joke with the cameras rolling and still get elected as the 47th president. [...] So I came to Latrobe to try and write the 72-point headline that the Times editors can’t — “PHALLUS-JOKE MAN AND DANCING FOOL COULD LEAD THE FREE WORLD AGAIN” — and to scream at the top of my lungs from the bluffs overlooking this tiny airport that this would-be emperor telling the shower story is actually wearing no clothes. Who will shout that Trump’s “closing argument” is the melding of his increasingly public breakdown with how that might lead to an all-too-real domestic war of midnight raids and armored personnel carriers against the fiction of an “Occupied America”? Ironically, Trump’s endless Arnold Palmer bit seemed part of an effort Saturday night to prove that the rambling candidate is not “exhausted,” something that his own aides reportedly said after several recent interviews were canceled. But the Republican nominee — kind of like Madonna’s “Sex” phase and shock photos when her 1980s were ending — also appeared to sense that he needs to get more and more outrageous to get attention, after numbing America to his Hitlerian language that immigrants “will cut your throat.”

Will Bunch at The Philadelphia Inquirer on Donald Trump's Latrobe rally (10.20.2024)

Will Bunch wrote in The Philadelphia Inquirer about Donald Trump’s fascist insultfest in Latrobe, PA in which he infamously obsessed about Arnold Palmer.

#Will Bunch #Donald Trump #Arnold Palmer #2024 Presidential Election #2024 Elections #Opinion #The Philadelphia Inquirer #Trump Rallies #Latrobe Pennsylvania #Pennsylvania

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tookthe-405 · 8 months ago

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VBS

Chapter 2: Damage gets done ~ hozier (MY LOVE)

DAILY CLICK🍉 DONATE ON

LINKS🇵🇸 GOFUND.ME!!

a/n: again, sorry this took so long, life’s been stressful but I hope y’all like it <33 its long af tho

this is honestly just me messing around with happiness and then destroying it soon 😍

c/w: smut in future chaps!!, religious trauma, internalised homophobia, religious manipulation/abuse, implied abuse by parent

summary: you grew up religious without questions and in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp always felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

7/22/2007 (sunday, week 1)

Readers pov:

10:02 a.m

The faces of the others were frozen as you trudged back to the hostel, which you couldn't blame them for. You don't see two girls with wet clothes here every morning, and the fact that you had to walk past the dining room to get to the stairs didn't exactly help you stay inconspicuous.

You and Ellie lost track of time a bit and were already too late when you noticed that breakfast had already started. The dining room doesn't really have a single door, the room was just completely open with no wall or door that could have protected you from being seen.

Giggles and agitated whispers immediately started as Ellie walked past the large room and down the corridor. Pastor Tobias' eyes pierced into back of your head as you walked past the hall.

Ellie found it all very entertaining and waved to a group of people who greeted her back with a laugh.

You, however, couldn't meet anyone's gaze, not your friends and certainly not Pastor Tobi's.

With your head bowed and your wet hair hitting your red cheek, you quickly fidget past all the spectators.

After 2 days, the events came dry from the lips of the people and you and Ellie could walk through the halls with a little less shame.

Or at least you did.

Ellie didn't think the whole thing was so bad. She said she didn't care and that it was worth it. That you hadn't done anything wrong, and she was right, you hadn't done anything bad.

But guilt was beggingly nibbling at your skin, hoping to be let into your brain where you would make up some fucked up mistake.

The singing of the choir and hazel next to you make it a little harder to think about all this, but not impossible. With your luck, you might dream about it. The whole scene in front of you, is so familiar that it feels like you are timely. The many children of different ages who sing their souls out to be enough.

Some of them are also really good, and some are good and love to sing. But they will probably not get any further than your little congregation, because it was explained to you from an early age that those talents you own are there to serve God and only him.

Acting out of free will would make you feel too guilty.

Your gaze rushes behind a shoulder to Ellie, and even she sings with it. Ellie seems to have made friends with a group of boys and girls a few days ago. She fits in pretty well, everyone looks like they don't feel like being here.

The short-haired girl catches your eyes and winks at you slightly, which makes you grin. She's so inserious, it's to laugh sometimes. With the same grin, she makes a small movement with her fingers and hands that looks as if she is composing something on an invisible piano. You understand that she just wants to tease you and show her a guitar-playing gesture.

"Don't do that!"

The hissing in your ear scares you, and you shake together briefly. After you have stretched your body forward again, and your shoulders feel like wooden boards, you give Hazel an apologetic look.

She unobtrusively holds a finger to her lips instead of telling you to shut up.

But her look is not as angry as she sounded, she admonishes you to stay out of trouble and you have to admit, that has often saved your ass.

When you were smaller, you wanted to try out almost everything, whether it was because of your quick trust in other people or because you just hated yourself too much to have any self respect left, no matter what it was, it almost messe up your life. Or rather your social life in church. And Hazel was like a warning hand that pulled you back again and again, saving yiuin the last moment.

When the piano music ends quietly and slowly, everyone sits down again, and a squeak sounds through the room. The piano that is played on every morning is old, but still sounds quite good. You could play all the hillsong songs and the old ones of your grandparents with your eyes closed if you had to, but Tanja does a good alternative job for you.

Your mother liked it so much, when the piano was played in the service that she thought it would be all the more beautiful if her daughter sat up there.

"Good morning everyone"

The older pastor leans against his narrow pedestal with the large cross on front and looks slowly through the rows.

"Personally, I find that 2 days are enough to get used to a life in nature and among themselves with God" he sighs tired for a short time as if he is already disappointed about something.

"Tomorrow you will go to the city with your assigned room partners and grou leaders and spread God's word”

Groaning resounds around in the room, most of pre teens who would rather do anything else than talk to strangers in the summer heat. Your group also has less desire, but this happens here every year like a kind of tradition, so you've been preparing for it.

"Not only that! The kitchen also prepares candied apples, which you can then all hand out nicely together!"

That was new. However, you understand the purpose behind it, you would also like it more to sit and listen here with a candied apple. In recent years, so many people have slammed the door in front of your nose that a few apples can't be bad.

"Hey girls" Louisa's voice makes you all look over your shoulder.

She kneels in front of you to be able to whisper better and more inconspicuously.

"You have kitchen duty this afternoon, please don't forget it and don't plan anything"

you all nod in Union.

"fuck"

"Kate!" Admonished hazel.

"What? It always takes like what? 2 hours?-"

"2 hours and 46 minutes" you improve her.

The four girls look at you confused.

"I stopped time last year out of boredom"

hazel grins at you, you twist your eyes but there is also a soft smile on your lips. You know exactly what's going through her head.

'That's so weird but just too sweet'

"I can't even remember the last time" murmurs naveah dreamy, her gaze rigidly on the ceiling.

"Probably because it was so traumatic that your brain simply deleted it for you" Kate dramatically her index finger against her head.

"It wasn't so bad, Kate exaggerates."

"I don't"

"my legs hurt all day"

Kate's and Mia's voices roll over and you smile. Hazel looks at you questioningly. You gambled with your shoulders.

"2 hours and 46 minutes Hazel..."

the girl shakes her head and her brown curls fall around her face a few times. "I thought it was okay"

Kate snorts. "Haze you would walk around in underwear in the snow if it happened in the name of the church."

"You wouldn’t?

11:38 a.m (sunday, week 1)

Three. You got 3 soccer balls shot in your face within 1 hour. You're not surprised that one of them was from Caleb, but the other two were shot by the same pretty black-haired girl, and it didn't look like she was sorry.

"What the…"

You stare at her and Caleb's backs during the water break and hope that it was just a coincidence, even if deep down you know that it wasn´t.

"Does he still not like you?" Naveah, sweating, picks up her water bottle while her eyes wander from time to time between you and Caleb.

You shrug, now more focused on Caleb fooling around with some guys.

The air in the gym was incredibly thick and almost unbearable, but the leaders still talked you into a soccer match. It was more or less Hazel's decision anyway and you guys do everything she does. The high windows let in the warm sun, whose heat wasn't particularly welcome right now.

The teams are mixed, meaning there are boys and girls on the same teams, aged 16 to 18. There weren't many, but enough to at least form 2 fair groups with even a few substitutions on the bench.

Ellie is nowhere to be seen , which doesn't surprise you, you regret ever saying yes to this, but you miss her in the disgusting, sweaty, narrow air. Her presence and her funny jokes would have been the only thing that could have made this a little less shitty.

"What's the deal with him anyway?" Naveah doesn't seem to let this go.

"We just don't like each other, that's just how it is sometimes."

She frowns.

"I don't think you can hate each other so much without a reason."

"I don't hate Caleb, I don't really care about him"

Naveah lets out a snort.

"Damn didn't know you could be a little bitchy too"

Caleb turns briefly in your direction and you take that as a sign to turn away and finally sit down for the next 8 minutes. Naveah does the same.

“I think everyone can be a little bitchy, you can’t like everyone and everything”

“Jesus could”

“Well im not Jesus”

she stretches her legs out next to you and sighs deeply.

"I know, even if this doesn't sound good, I sometimes find the principle of the church really fucked up. I try to love everyone, even people who do bad things to me, but it doesn't always work."

You're very surprised that she comes to you with this, but now that she did, you want to give her the best comfort you can.

"That's okay, naveah. We're neither God nor Jesus, we can do some things and we can't do some other. And we find a lot of things difficult. So Hate who you want"

naveah laughs and then becomes creepily serious again.

"Thanks, since you became friends with Ellie, you seem more relaxed to me."

Thinking, you try to remember your life before Ellie, but you can't. Before that everything was much more colorless, it didn't make as much sense as it does now.

"yes, I guess"

"no matter what Hazel says, you're right, Ellie isn't bad. How can a bad person make someone else this happy?"

12:24 p.m (sunday, week 1)

You haven't heard from Ellie all morning. It was almost as if she had completely disappeared, and if you're honest, you've had the feeling for a while that one day, she would just run away from here.

You wouldn´t hold it against her, but you would still feel dejected and left behind.

naveah and you talk a lot more after the game, she's more like you than you thought and you think she's good company. She understands your humor and you don't feel stupid or judged after every sentence you say.

It often happens to you that you wish for a world and reality in which it was always so easy to live. Where not every breath you take feels wasted.

You try very hard not to think about Caleb or your siblings back home. Homesickness seemed to catch up with you sooner or later anyway, but you didn't expect it to happen so quickly.

The summer heat was bearable, but it was still uncomfortable, so you spent most of your time indoors. Shortly after 12, Naveah suggested playing a few rounds of Uno with you, and since there was nothing better to do, you agreed.

"My father taught me uno, I can still remember that"

there is a very faint smile in her voice that touches your ears. She sounded a bit sad, as if she´s mourning that time of her life.

"I don't know your father at all"

you put a wish card on top of the pile of other cards. One round probably turned into a few.

"He's not really a christian, sometimes I think that's why he is the way he is"

"What do you mean?"

"He has a lot of emotions, he doesn't know what to do with them."

Christian parents are often very strict, as there are many rules in both parenting and the Bible that you have to follow. But since Naveah is talking about her atheist father, you don't really have a picture of what she really means, both your parents are religious.

"I don't understand exactly what you mean naveah…"

half of your brain is focused on the girl in front of you and the other half on the cards on the floor. Naveah moved around a little to sit down a little more comfortably, but this position didn´t seemed to free her from the emotional discomfort.

"Sometimes he doesn't know where to put all the anger. My mother doesn't help much with that either. Both of them know how to provoke each other, but only one of them knows how to deal with feelings."

"I still don't know what you mean? How does that affect you and your fathers relationship?"

It seems absurd to you how you talk about something like that while you're playing Uno, but if that's what she needs.

"Girls, lunch is ready and then you have to rinse off."

Louisa's voice flashes through the room and everyone moves quickly, but you make a mental note to talk to her about it later. You walk at a slow pace down the hallway and the other girls just rush past you. You remember how easy everything seemed to you at that age.

On the second floor you meet Jonathan.

“Hey you got wash up duity, don’t you?”

A dramatic groan leaves your mouth and you nod.

Joanthan is nice. You know his parents very well and you both grew up together as often as you saw each other at school and he was one of the only boys who wasn't interested in bullying girl for fun.

"Are you in the same room with Samuel?"

“Samuel and Austin, luckily”

You nod in understanding and see your group of girls whizzing past you out of the corner of your eye. Hazel turns to you briefly and gives you that grin and suddenly you know exactly what's going on here. An unpleasant feeling spreads through you and you try hard to ignore it.

"yeah… it's nice that you're still friends"

"I can't believe how long I've been able to put up with these two"

You giggle a little bit uncomfortable and think about the many pranks the three boys have pulled off. Both here in the camp and at school.

“Have you planned any new pranks?”

"hmm I don't know if I can tell you that" Jonathan grins at you.

"Well, if I hear something about a prank, I know who it was."

He shrugs and chuckles softly.

"Do you know what you're planning to do after the summer holidays? Now that we've finished school." you ask him.

He doesn't seem so sure about his answer.

"Not really, I don't know yet whether I want to stay here or go further away. Samuel wants to study in new york, I feel a bit left behind"

left behind. You know the fear of that as well.

"No matter what you decide, you have a future everywhere, time goes by either way"

he smiles at you and combs a few thick curls out of his face. You notice that he's looking at you longer than necessary.

"Hey would you like-" "Jesus where are they?"

You try strenuously to find Hazel's brown curls over the many people's heads, but they are nowhere to be seen.

"Sorry Jonathan, I have to find the others before they can no longer manage to save a seat for me."

you lie coldly to his face.

Without any further words, you quickly march through the many groups. You can feel his confused look burning at your spine, but whatever he wanted wasn't what you wanted.

You notice two things in the dining room.

Luckily Hazel secured a spot for you and Ellie is talking to the girl who shot a fucking ball at you. Twice.

Ellie's face seemed neutral, she was smiling slightly.

Jealousy overcomes you and you´re embarrassed at how quickly and unexpectedly it happens. Your cheeks redden and you feel very immature, like in middle school when you were mad that Hazel had other friends besides you.

You sit down in silence next to Hazel, who has already placed a plate at your place. Some pureed vegetable soup that you have to force down.

"What did Jonathan want?" Kate leans forward eagerly.

Unexpectedly, Jonathan is a good distraction for once.

"You're being so childish"

"Come on, we're just curious"

That's how it was always with the boys. No matter what people say, Christian girls are obsessed with boys, no matter how much the feeling of guilt trys to destroy that. For many, boys even come before God in terms of interest.

Not necessarily boys, but more the romance itself. The acceptance and recognition of being enough for a man.

Your eyes flick to Ellie, who is still talking to her about something seemingly funny. Of course you don't care.

“He didn’t want anything from me and even if he did it i would not care.”

1:14 p.m (sunday, week 1)

You are just waiting to be let into the kitchen. It's nothing unusual to take on kitchen duty in camp. It's a kind of thank you from the church to the kitchen for cooking warm food every day. Every girl's room gets a turn twice a year. After the girls' rooms have all been through to the second time, there are two more boys' rooms so that it doesn't get unfair. Ironic isn´ it?

Every year it's the same, every year you can hear the boys crying and complaining when they're the ones who have to do it this year. Now was your day where you have to wash 200 dishes. The staff and managers involved.

Ellie isn't here yet. She can't really have forgotten it, Louisa reminded her not to do anything between 1 and 3 p.m. this morning.

"Okay girls, then let's get to work."

Lousia opens the door to the kitchen a little too enthusiastically with her key and everyone follows her limply. It's the same place with the same number of dirty dishes.

Washing the dishes yourself isn't that bad for you, it's the fact that this kitchen is so damn dark.

For some reason there are only 3 windows in the white, old room. The tiles on the floor are already old and a few edges have broken off, the potholes were noticeable on the sole of your slippers. It still smells like soup and detergent and you wonder who would want to spend hours doing something like that.

“Here” Hazel hands you gloves and an apron.

"Sorry I'm late" Ellie stands in the doorway, panting, looking for Lousia's gaze, but it still stays on you.

"Hey" she smiles at you… shyly?

You smile back and pull the apron over your head.

"Ellie… please don't let this happen again."

“I promise it won´t”

Hazel also hands her the things and Ellie doesn’t hesitate for a second. You're a little surprised that she showed up at all, but she seems a bit inergic to you.

"Okay, we'll divide into 3 groups and one will rinse while the other dries and puts thw dishes away," you almost order the others.

You grew up with a very tidy mother and a big sister, you know a lot about tidying up and organization. That's why no one hesitates and does what you said.

"I wanted to talk to you all day"

Ellie's rough voice loops into your right ear and you quickly grab the dishes and a sponge as a distraction and start to rinse.

"I'll rinse you dry"

Ellie seems surprised to have to pick up a plate but does as you say.

"Everything okay?"

What bothers you is how easy it is for her to read you.

“Yes, everything is perfect”

“It doesn’t seem like it?”

"That's your self Ellie?"

"Did anything happen?"

"No"

"Did I do something?"

"Ellie!"

You say her name a little loudly and Mia, who is standing across from you, turns to you briefly and smiles encouragingly at you.

No, that is completely wrong. You shouldn't be mad at Ellie, you should stand by her, she could be in distress or something.

You direct your gaze again, an embarrassing blush on your face.

As strange as it sounds, Ellie really looks beautiful in an apron. Her soft curves, her forearms that show off her fair, freckled skin and the black ink of her tattoo. She always has to pull up her sleeves no matter what she does.

"I just had a bad day okay?"

You take the next plate.

"Her name is Ruth"

Ruth. you imagine how the name would feel on your tongue, how it would taste. How it would taste on Ellie's tongue. Shaking, you banish the thought because the thought of a sentence where both Ellie’s tongue and taste appear, seems too dangerous to you.

"I didn't ask that"

"You didn't have to"

Nobody speaks for 10 minutes, there is complete silence. Your thoughts rush from one corner of your brain to the other. You didn't want to argue with her, you didn't want to be anything other than hers.

soon you realize that you have no right to be angry with Ellie. She can talk to whoever she wants. Strangely enough, it also seemed to make a certain amount of sense for Ellie that you were angry.

You Wonder why.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs next to you, a wet glass in her hand.

"You don't have to be, you didn't do anything, Ellie."

Your anger subsided, and your longing for Ellie's soft, warm voice grew.

"I haven't paid any attention to you all day."

"You don't have to-"

"But I want to. As often as I can."

Sometimes you think that she doesn't even notice what she's actually saying to you. That she's in a trance and doesn't even notice what's falling over her lips. How vulgar her allusions are, and how good they feel.

You turn around briefly, but no one seems to have heard.

"It's okay, don't worry about it now."

"I really am sorry though." Her hand rests gently on your back, but doesn't quite touch you. it is the gesture itself that counts here, but you can't help but think of her soft skin, of her many freckles that are certainly not only on her face.

"I know. Me too, I shouldn't have acted around like that"

her face shows how happy she was with the situation and you smiled too.

"I like your hair. It's really pretty braided" she whispers

her hands sadly turn back to the dishes and your gaze remains stuck to her for a while. But how could you not? who would ever want to look away from her?

"what did you want to tell me?" you ask her.

"how do you know that I want to tell you something?"

"you get really fidgety when you want to talk about something"

you notice so many things about her. how her leg fidgets slightly, how she keeps having to change her position and shifts her hips from left to right, how she bites her cheek, sometimes too hard.

"um... I had an idea"

"Ellie, no-"

"I haven't said anything yet"

the running water covers your voices, luckily, and no one notices.

"We're handing out these apples tomorrow and I thought to myself-"

you give her another glass and look into her soul.

"That's stupid and we're not 10 anymore, Ellie, what makes you think of something like that?"

Ellie takes the glass slowly and carefully, not breaking eye contact with you. Her eyes look hurt.

"Please explain it to me" you try to make your voice softer, more trustworthy.

"I don't want to be here. You don't understand, you're here every year and people love you. There's something wrong with me and I'm reminded of it every fucking day, I just want to show him what it's like to be treated like that"

you could hear the tears in her voice. You noticed early on with your brother that some people just don't cry, or at least don't like to. They express their tears differently, with Ellie it's her voice.

Her voice shows how she's feeling just as clearly as tears would have.

The kitchen is divided into two compartments. One is where they cook and the other is where they put the dirty dishes and clean them.

"How are we even supposed to get into the kitchen? And how do we know that they haven't already put the glaze on the apples? We don't know anything, Ellie-"

"Jesse's mother is volunteering to help in the kitchen. He said that he needs to help his mother to candy the apples this evening. But before that we can make a few changes."

Your mouth is slightly open. She has really thought this through. You hand Ellie another glass and stare at the door at the end of the room. No chance of her just getting in there. Louisa is a very nice manager but even that wouldn't gat an approve of her.

"How are we even supposed to get in there?"

CLINGGG

a high, loud noise bounces around in the air and you flinch so much that it hurts.

"fuck"

"oops" Ellie grins at you slightly after she has dropped the glass, you gave her to dry, on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, god I'm so clumsy"

Ellie gives you a whole scene, in which you don't have to do anything but hold back a laugh.

"Louisa, forgive me, it just fell out of my hand"

the other girls have to hold back a giggle too, even Hazel.

Ellie's high, dramatic voice sounded bad like a dying cat, but once again you were impressed by how daring she is.

"Yeah, yeah Ellie, clean that up. The broom is in the storage room"

Louisa presses the many keys into Ellie's hand and doesn't seem at all surprised.

"Thank you very much sister" for a moment you thought she was bowing.

„we’re not catholic Ellie-“

„But Mrs. I don't know where the storage rooms are"

„And I’m not married“ Louisa sighs

"Shit Ellie, I'm kinda enjoying this"

Kate grins at her and Ellie winks as Louisa gives Kate a warning look.

Ellie puts a strong, secure arm around you.

“Please accompany her”

Louisa waves her hands in the air between you two

“Sure” you reply like a robot

Ellie's arm pulls you towards the exit door and almost slams it behind you.

"first we ruin the glaze, then we can get the broom from wherever that was"

"in the storage room"

"whatever"

There are two doors to the kitchen. One that is in the washing up room and connects the two rooms and another that leads directly to the kitchen. The other entrance can be taken through the dining hall, and that's where you headed.

"if the pastor sees us, we're dead, Ellie"

you walk quickly but are still careful when you go around corners.

"I know, I think he wants to hang me on a scarecrow, I had a dream about that recently-"

you grab her arm and shove her back behind a safe corner.

"phillip"

"who the fuck is Phillip"

you press Ellie lightly against the wall because you are sure that sometimes she can't control her body properly. you peek around the corner slightly and see the orange hair.

"He's like the pastor's right-hand man, his best friend is also his roommate and his assistant."

"Pastors can have roommates?"

The orange spot at the end of the hallway slowly disappears like the light of a car on a dark night. This time you go first and Ellie follows you like a dog, she is also much quieter.

You feel 6 years younger and you like doing something you've never dared to do. Otherwise it was always the boys who played pranks and even though you never admitted it, you were always jealous.

Jealous of the freedom to behave like an asshole and not face any consequences. You wanted to have that laugh, that bond of having done something wrong together and to experience the big drama afterwards. To be praised for having done it.

"Shit, you like this, don't you?"

How can she read you so well?

"No!"

When you get to the door you stare at her knowingly.

"Yes you do, you're not as good as you always act doll. And I mean that in the best way possible"

"You're full of shit Ellie"

you let her pass you and the green eyed girl hastily tries to find the key.

"hey" you calmly touch her quick hands.

"calm down. don't stress Ellie"

her cheeks redden and her hands slow down.

"i really can't find it. fuck do you even have the key to the kitchen as a group leader?"

out of instinct you pull the door handle to use the key and the door opens.

"That was easier than i thought-"

Ellie puts the keys in her back pocket and carefully sticks her head into the kitchen. you keep watch so that no one walks by and tells on you. you quickly scurry after Ellie into the empty, warm room and smell the sweet air of the apples.

"the door has a fucking window" Ellie whispers in your ear and points at the door from where your friends are cleaning dirty dishes, the door that leads to Louisa who Is waiting for her keys.

goosebumps spread across your arms and legs and you are not sure if it is where Ellie is or the chance of being thrown out of the camp.

as you stand in front of the big pot you both breathe in out of reflex.

"It smells good, I even feel a little bad about ruining it"

Ellie watches the bubbling bubbles a little dreamily.

"Isn´t that actually vandalism?"

you ask thoughtfully.

Ellie almost laughs out loud and puts her hand over her mouth. You grab her arm and press even harder against her mouth so that she is really quiet.

"No, that isn't really vandalism oh my god you are innocent"

"Wow thanks Ellie, it was so enlightening"

you spend a while looking in the kitchen for something that might taste good and after a while Ellie finds vinegar that is probably decades old.

"that is so disgusting, remind me not to eat any of it"

Ellie's look confirms that somehow you'll have to eat it anyway.

"it will noticeable if we don't eat anything, just a small bite"

"Ellie what the fuck" you massage your temples with your thumb and watch her open the vinegar.

"not too much, okay?"

"yeah yeah"

In the end she used almost half the bottle to make it really gross. for an "extra reaction" she said. In the end you almost got caught by the pastor's right hand. In the end Ellie held your hand for exactly 4 seconds.

It was impressive how those 4 seconds stayed in your head for hours.

INTERACT WITH ONE OF THE LINKS UP THERE

Please post and repost a lot about Palestine especially right now. The videos shock me to my core and are really disturbing but people live these lives, these are children of someone. Please take your focus on the people in Palestine who are going thru hell. Help where you can

I really hope you liked this chapter, I will upload more after focusing more about palestine so it might take a while! Btw SO SORRY ITS THAT LONG

Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @vqxen @hersuniverse @nelzooo @shiimer @bellaramseysgirlfriend @sonthingwithl @vi0lentb3rry @elliewilliamsblunt @be3flow3r @adelaide013 @abbysbraids @mourningdovee

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lovemyromance · 10 months ago

Text

“Oh well Rhys & Feyre didn’t like each other at first” and “Nesta and Cassian couldn’t stand to be around one another at first” … “So Elucien might not be on the page NOW, but it IS endgame, that’s just how SJM writes her pairings 🙄”

But… it’s not though.

Even if they are enemies, even if they are not friends or lovers or anything yet - There is always intrigue. There is always attention, drawn to the other person. There is always SOME feeling, whether it be love, hate, attraction, or annoyance.

Feyre was told Rhys was the enemy, a monster, and yet when us readers read those scenes, we still shipped them together in ACOTAR. We were rooting for them in ACOMAF. Why?

Because their scenes, even if they were not on the best terms, were full of emotion. Full of tension, passion, some kind of pull to the other person. Their interactions left me feeling amused/scared/warm/shocked no matter what.

Even Nesta and Cassian, before their book, they were constantly at each other’s throats. But even then, you could tell Cassian would’ve done anything for her. They were willing to die with the other, and they didn’t even have time to be together yet 🥺. He was simply drawn to her, he could not stay away.

But Lucien… he is away. Not just physically, when he resides in the human lands with Vassa & Jurisn, but also on the physical pages in the book. He is barely mentioned in the story, and usually only around instances with Elain, if ever.

And in those instances he is mentioned with Elain? They are uncomfortable. They are awkward. They are avoidant. This is a fact, pointed out by nearly every single IC member, so it’s not even a reliable narrator thing. Elucien has not had many interactions, and they are all lukewarm, filled with apathy.

You can crow all you want about “oh that’s how all SJM relationships start, hate turns to love” but the don’t even have hate. They don’t have love.

They have indifference.

It is hard to write a couple that is indifferent to each other when they have quite literally the one main, revered reason in the fae world to get together: a mating bond. Like you have to go out of your way in SJM land to write a mating bond NOT as a good thing.

Nesta & Cassian’s bond wasn’t even revealed but Nesta was willing to die with him in ACOWAR. She might have been annoyed with him and hated him, but she never avoided him. She couldn’t. It’s as simple as that.

Elucien are mates already! And everyone knows! What is stopping them from getting together?

And no, it is not “Elain is still said she is fae and still mourning over Graysen.” Maybe in ACOWAR she was still mourning, but by ACOFAS she was adapting to this new world, their holidays, their traditions. She made friends, she glowed with health. And by ACOSF she is sneaking off to have a rendezvous with the Spymaster in the middle of the night. She is Elain “Put it on me” Acheron. So no, she is not still being held back by her trauma or her ex fiancée. It’s clearly written in that bonus chapter antis hold as their bible - Elain was READY for that man.

She’s not ready to face her mate though. It’s been 3 books and she still can’t even be in the same room as him. 3 books and she doesn’t even use his solstice gifts. 3 books and she doesn’t even care if he’s in Velaris or not.

Feyre was calling Rhys the most beautiful man she had seen the second they met, and Rhys was willing to die with her in just ACOTAR, before their mating bond even snapped.

Nesta & Cassian were willing to die for each other in ACOWAR, before their mating bond even snapped.

Azriel was willing to die for Elain to save her from Hybern’s camp. She kicked those hounds off him with her bare feet.

I’m not saying they’re mates or anything, but they have shown the same desperate longing, the same obsessed traits as the other couples. Elucien is the discrepancy here. Because even though they have already been established as mates, SJM has written their bond as something clearly different from Nessian & Feysand.

But I thought it was obvious.

#elriel #azriel #elain archeron #elain x azriel #pro elain #elain #acotar #antielucien

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moth-related-inquiries · 11 months ago

Note

Hi! I read your oneshot involving Micah and fem child reader and absolutely loved it! I never thought i could see Micah ever taking on the role of a parental figure but you did such a good job tying his character into a role that i thought would never fit him! I was wondering if you could expand more on their dynamic afterwards and how reader would interpret his ‘cull the weak beliefs’ do you think teaching her these would ever come to backfire on him later especially if used against him?

Micah Bell and Fem! Child Reader Pt2: Knives Out

Warnings: incredibly angsty, Micah Bell, you're gonna hate this if u love Micah LOL, lots of murder, terrible beliefs, graphic description of murder, and child death.

tldr: Micah Bell's teachings came to bite him back in the ass. :( Nobody close to him can be happy.

A/n: Hi, Anon! Thank you for the req ♡♡♡ I'm so glad you liked my last fic! I hope you like this one, too. Feel free to send any more requests you might have :p

Listen while you read?:

Today was your third month of 'bonding,' as Micah liked to call it. You'd slowly progressed from being as terrible of a shot as Sean Macguire to being fairly good at your shots. Of course, you weren't as good as Micah, but he congratulated you on your significant progress. Unlike the others, Micah has been surprisingly patient with you. There were a lot of things he had to teach and show you, and you seemed to learn best when you were in the middle of action.

Not only had you become a better shot, but you'd also become a more malleable tool. When you finished your first robbery, Micah decided that from now on you weren't going by your old name. The Bell family had a very specific practice they used when choosing names. For the first time in a long time, he flipped open a Bible and scoured its pages for a suitable name. Eventually, he settled on Elisabeth, the technical grandmother of Jesus. Not because she was a humble or remarkable woman, but because she was stubbornly faithful. Like a dog.

He hoped that, since he'd earned your trust, you'd follow him like a dog to the ends of the earth. And that you did. No matter what he did, where he went, or who he killed, he stayed as your role model. Beyond that, he was also your new father figure. Sure, you liked Dutch and Hosea, but they never saw things from your point of view like Micah did. The Dutch, for one, insisted on the dramatics constantly. He'd make up schemes to entertain himself and some big wig bastard, then steal the money. Which probably would've entertained you if you had the patience. And Hosea, well, he didn't enjoy the 'thrill' of murdering and robbing the same way that you did. Meaning that he liked making a fool of himself and then leaving with a small sum of money.

Not to mention that Micah secretly found both of them to be fools in their own ways. You thought, at first, that he saw you as a fool too, but he assured you that you were anything but. He called you his 'kinfolk.' His kid. You found it odd. He claims to be so strong, yet he practically creates his own weakness. With this idea in mind, you began to dissect some of his flaws.

When the two of you were in camp, you noticed that he was anything but pleasant to the other members. He often harassed and berated many of the women in camp, too, which you found odd. Even odder was the fact that he berated Jack, which made you curious. Was he perhaps jealous of John and Abigail for their achievements? It seemed so. You guessed that he was jealous because he too wanted a family, no matter how dysfunctional. Though he hadn't had much luck considering that, like the stupid man he is, he took his anger out on all the women around him.

Micah Bell could never score a woman, and he knew that very well. And now, so did you. And all you had to do was watch him like you normally do. Every time you did, he'd lean over and whisper in your ear about how someday he's going to get a nice and fine wife, and these floozies are going to be sorry. You knew better. Every time he'd provide some weird back-handed compliment, you wondered if he knew it only made him look weak. He had all bark and no bite. Which, in many cases, he did. All talk until Dutch struts over, then suddenly he's acting like he's a holy deity sworn to do nothing but good.

That was one major weakness you'd noticed about him. His one big fault. Micah seemed to assume that being a snake oil salesman made him a man. A man fit for survival in the natural world. A man who could do whatever he wanted and whenever he wanted as long as he still had his silver tongue. And it did, for a little while. He could go around murdering families and sleep like a little baby the night after. That is, until he met you.

See, Micah Bell had done himself dirty when he began 'training' you. Because, unlike Micah, you shut your mouth, and you watched everyone really well. You waited for someone to come to you, and you didn't, no matter how tough it was to resist, let your guard down. Yet Micah Bell had shown his since the day he decided to mentor you. Sure, you were unaware of the impact of his actions then, but he'd taught you well. He'd gifted you a higher consciousness without even knowing it.

So, after three long months of needlessly long interaction, you put his teachings to work. You woke up bright and early to listen to the birds chirp their jovial toons. It was nice to let the weak be, just for a moment, because sometimes they end up surprising you with their entertainment. Your steel gaze turned to Micah, who was fast asleep on his bedroll, facing the cliffside. He, too, was nice when you left him be. When he did sleep, it looked peaceful. And, for a moment, you decided to let him be, too.

You grabbed your satchel, one that Micah had bought for you, and opened it. From it, you produced a jagged stone that you'd found back in Strawberry, after the pair of you (and Arthur) murdered an entire town. You originally picked it up in order to execute whoever was holding Micah's precious revolvers, but he beat you to it. And, with savagery and cowardice, he murdered another family right in front of you. It was eerily thrilling when you first experienced it, but now? Now you feel nothing but guilt. Not for the town you'd helped murder, but for Micah.

You looked down at him, staring at his greasy forehead. As you lifted your stone, you teared up as you remembered all the times that he'd slipped up. A terrible feeling sank into your chest as you thought about your first robbery. How he wiped your tears away after you'd committed your first murder and rubbed your back like the father you never had. You'd given him your weakness, and he accepted it with unknowing tenacity. From then on, you gave him your weakness, and he allowed you to piggyback off of him like a little parasite.

For such a morally corrupt man, Micah had always done his best to assure your safety, no matter what. When the two of you were low on rations, he let you have the last. When the gang was ambushed, he made sure you were never there. When the two of you were caught in a rock and a hard place, he always made you run back to camp while he distracted the bastards following you. It's your fault that he turned into something he never wanted to be.

It's your fault that he became so weak.

Your brows furrowed, and your face twisted into anguish. You lifted the stone up above your head and, with all your might, sent it crashing down upon his skull. It made a sickening crunch, like a pumpkin being dropped, but Micah did not move. You repeated the action over and over again until his head finally caved in. Once you were done, you walked over to your horse, one that he had gifted you, and shot her, too. Baylock was smart enough to run off.

From then on, you decided that, out of the four of you, Baylock would be the strongest. He was the survivor because he ran like hell instead of sticking around to die. Finally, you walked back to the cliffside and erased the last remaining proof of Elisabeth Bell's entire existence.

A/N: i hope people like this :p i know child death is a very sensitive topic, but I think that this is how it would go in the eyes of a child. I tried to make it a little confusing so that we could really understand how uniquely this kind of situation would affect someone as vulnerable as a child versus an adult.

#red dead redemption 2 #micah bell #micah bell x reader #child reader #angst #angstycowboy #rdr2

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leliosinking · 1 year ago

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Okay folks. Hear me out. I know the popular vision on this site is for amc Lestat’s rockstar era to be like.. leather pants and mesh shirts ala Maneskin (and Stuart Townsend tbh) but I just don’t see it for this interpretation of the character.

(I can’t shake the vibe that Damiano is a liiittle too close to what we’ve already seen, I’ll explain shortly)

But also.. we’ve already gotten a canon taste of this Lestat’s stage presence in s01e07. Look at this guy. He’s a flamboyant, piano playing dandy.. like a flamingly gay theatre faguette. This man was crowned king of Mardi Gras and chose to dress up like a queen..

No. No I don’t see mesh shirts and leather pants in this man’s future (at least not with a 2022 sensibility). But I do see a potential vision. Ride this thought train with me for a sec.

So for this theory to work I should first quickly explain where I think we are in the timeline:

We know that the original interview occurred in the 1970s, and that Daniel doesn’t remember much of that era.. (perhaps he was much closer to the action than he remembers) but I (and several other long term fans) think that the events in Dubai 2022 are likely a fusion of Prince Lestat and Merrick. But more importantly, I think that the events of TVL and QotD have already happened, and mostly likely in close proximity to the original interview.. it’s a lot to explain but trust me it works.

Lestat’s rockstar era occurring in the ‘80s (or even late ‘70s) would of course be book accurate, but it also would allow the show to distance itself from what has already been done in the films. So much like moving the events of IwtV from the 1780s to the 1910s for aesthetic variation, we would be moving the modern events of TVL and QotD from the early 2000s of the film back to their original placement in the timeline. And boy oh boy are the fashion options exciting.. but I have something in mind a little left of field.

So like.. I’m imagining a gothic Liberace, clad in 18th century waistcoats and dramatic capes. Think sequins and candelabras. It’s all very late ‘70s early ‘80s. I know the books are more of a guideline than a bible for this series but the TVC vampires are drawn to the fashion of their era. I can 100% see interpreting his wolf killer coat into an extravagant sequined cape. Imagine “Come to Me” rearranged as a Neil Diamond piano rock ballad.. like are you following my train of thought? Like this Lestat is so so SO gay. And the visual references amc has been pulling from understand that.

(of course this is all very silly looking, but again, refer to Lestat at the Mardi Gras parade.. that’s him!)

Or think Elton John but like.. by way of Ozzy Osborne. Dramatic wigs and piano ballads, but also stage blood and prosthetics.

This Lestat understands high camp and theatricality, and I see him deliberately toeing the line between these two seemingly conflicting aesthetics because that’s who he is. Frankly it’s who he has always been as a character. Lestat “eating” the king cake baby? It’s just Ozzy biting the head off a bat. And I think more of that is what we’re in for.

(I can’t not mention the absolutely perfect adaptation by innovation comics. This look is a great jumping off point for what we might see.. but I think the costume department will take it many many steps further)

At their root the Vampire Chronicles are period drama, and Rolin and co. are already leaning into that (like there are what? Three active timelines in season one? I would expect even more as the series progresses tbh) and I think a season set largely in the 1980s is going to be more enticing to this team than one set in our present decade. And that’s okay! There’s not only a ton of fashion potential in that era, but also storytelling tools that could not only maintain the current framing device, but also expand on it.

Imagine season 2 ending not with Lestat arriving at the door, but with Armand handing Daniel yet another stack of documents to read and research. Only this time it’s Rolling Stone interviews, vinyl records, music videos and mtv appearances on tape.. all of this ephemera could be used similarly to Claudia’s diary in s01e04 to develop a richer storytelling device. But also it would help to keep Louis the primary narrator, while still providing voice and agency to Lestat (who I suspect is recovering from his post-MTD coma, but that’s a theory for another day).

Of course this is all theory and I’m sure many of you are more informed on bts spoilers than I, but this is one topic I’ve been wanting to talk about since season 1 concluded, and knowing season 2 will be treading into TVL territory opens up a ton of possibilities. But yeah! Even if the show goes in a totally different direction I hope if nothing else this might inspire some fan artists to play around with an alternative era for Les!

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #anne rice #lestat #amc iwtv #vampire chronicles #amc interview with the vampire #the vampire chronicles #tvc #queen of the damned #the vampire lestat

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all-souls-matinee · 6 days ago

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A Ghost Story for Christmas, Part 2

Making my way through the rest of these! I had twelve episodes left so decided to split the count in half with a final 'part 3' to follow next year. I went the random number generator route again, nervous now that the reboot episodes outnumbered the classics. And I was right to be worried.

The Tractate Middoth (2013), story by M.R. James, written and dir. by Mark Gatiss

A university librarian helps a man search for a book that held significance for him some twenty years before, and begins to wonder what the title might mean for him. Or what curse it might carry.

Solid, serviceable episode. Directing isn't great but there are experimental camera tricks that land, and acting and intrigue make up for those that don't. It was also fun as a later watch because I'm now familiar with the Ghost Story character archetypes; 'old man who causes problems' is back in plural to create more of a fairy tale than is usual for James, and while that isn't super my thing I like that there's a suitable concluding twist* and that the protagonist randomly gets a girlfriend.

*was wary of keeping the detail that the evil book is written in Hebrew, but trust the ride, even if it is obsessed with dust motes and mouth close-ups

Martin's Close (2019), story by M.R. James, written and dir. by Mark Gatiss

Squire John Martin is confident that his social standing will grant him impunity from a murder charge, until the victim's ghost has something to say about it.

I love trials as a framing device and I love trials played for camp, but it's a weird call for this story- short and not one of James' better ones- about a man killing a disabled woman. Like, we've been telling some variation of 'a rich person is divinely punished for hurting a poor innocent' for thousands of years, it's very much a Tales from the Crypt and/or The Bible-type beat that shouldn't be taken seriously, but then why adapt it in the most patronizingly offensive, confusing, and boring way possible? The silver lining if you decide to watch is that you get to see Peter Capaldi in an insane wig.

A Warning to the Curious (1973), story by M.R. James, written and dir. by Lawrence Gordon Clark

An unemployed Archeology hobbyist goes looking for buried treasure and finds more than he bargained for.

I really liked the aesthetics of this one. Part of that's simply on the age of the film, but it's beautifully dingy in the way of an old library book with audio that's a mix of synths and cold wind. The story is hitting every square on the James bingo card, which means not my favorite plot but incredible sense of place and concept. Strangely subversive about who sees the ghost and how the ghost gets you, with the conclusion realizing something that's scared me in horror since childhood. This is all bolstered by good acting and clever details (e.g., a vicar is allowed to pass on the story of the treasure because he's an outsider who's 'only' lived in town for 20 years.) Having heard the original story there are some deviations that are disappointing, but most of them work much better- including a sequence that looks laughably like Slender: The Eight Pages and is all the scarier for it.

Lot No. 249 (2023), story by Arthur Conan Doyle, written and dir. by Mark Gatiss

A medical student meets an Egyptology student through a mutual friend, and quickly becomes wary of his erratic and vengeful personality.

I hate Mark Gatiss. I was actually looking forward to this one because I know the story and the kind of camp he'd failed to pull off with Martin's Close is perfectly suited for it, so was interested to see what he'd do with the plot and the creature design. The answer is uhh nothing. The effects look like garbage and making the villain a flamboyant gay guy goes absolutely nowhere. ALSO there's a whole running bit where the protagonist goes to tell the story to an unnamed friend who looks like this

and they keep cheekily being like 'he's moving to a place called baker street, and he likes doctors ;-)' at the expense of the story currently being told. Mark go back to the goddamn mummy I have had enough Shlock Brain Hurt from you to last a lifetime. Some of the acting is decent but the whole thing pissed me off to no end, so weigh that how you will.

Number 13 (2006), story by M.R. James, written by Justin Hopper, dir. Pier Wilkie

A professor is called to authenticate strange documents at another college, and finds himself frustrated by his backwards rural surroundings, staying at an inn without a room number 13 but plenty of irritating guests.

I loved this one. The early 00s editing looks laughably bad, but that style is endearing to me and it's still more competently filmed than any of the misplaced flashiness of Gatiss' directing. The "creature" design being of a piece with the no-budget Doctor Whos airing at the time makes it a million times more interesting than anything else in the modern bloc of episodes. It's also the perfect case study of my relationship with James: I don't like the plot in concept, but occult horror is a means to an end that the writing and imagery sell you on. Who among us doesn't love a good hidden room, and a Planes, Trains & Automobiles relationship between a vain know-it-all and his loutish neighbor? (I wish we'd gotten more of them. Room 13 ao3 page when.)

The Dead Room (2018), story by Mark Gatiss, written and dir. Mark Gatiss

An aging radio host gives his young producer a quick lesson in classic horror stories, only to experience one of his own.

I did laugh when I saw who was responsible for the ep that would be closing out the year of 'how I learned to hate Mark Gatiss.' The directing was as god-awful as I've come to expect (why are the dust motes back??), and it had the worst ending I think I've seen for TV since Sherlock, but my expectations were so low that other than that it was.. fine? The meta-ness didn't bother me because I think he's a decent writer in quip-laden isolation, and with full control we get less action sequences and shot transitions and more 'actors who know what they're doing just reading the words,' so most scenes aren't half bad. I'm sure he'd be touched by my praise.

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ds9promenade · 3 months ago

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Podcast episode discussing DS9 "Past Tense" & "Far Beyond the Stars"!

My friend Laura invited me onto their podcast to unpack Deep Space Nine episodes 3x11 & 12: "Past Tense" and 6x13: "Far Beyond the Stars," using them for a broader discussion on the role of science fiction in dreaming better futures into reality.

In our conversation, we:

compare the 2024 of "Past Tense" to our 2024

share our theories about historical events that may have inspired both episodes, as well as their relationship to other works of speculative/science fiction

point out and offer revisions for parts of "Past Tense" that somewhat undercut the story's intended messages about the evils of capitalism, ableism, police / military violence, and anti-homeless laws

gush about the artistry of the filming and acting in "Far Beyond" (Avery Brooks monologues my beloved)

and more — with a dash of humor as we go!

Give "Sanctified Imagination Far Beyond the Stars" a listen wherever you get podcasts — or read along with the transcript!

(CW: Christianity) — please do go in forewarned that Laura's Autistic Liberation Theology podcast centers around reinterpreting the Bible from a trans & disabled lens. If you skip to 44 minutes in you'll miss most of the religious commentary, except for when it makes sense to bring it up re: Joseph Sisko's 1950s incarnation as a street preacher.

If you are interested the full episode, some of the places we go in our winding conversation are:

Womanist midrash & sanctified imagination, which enact this call to imagine possibilities for the oppressed — to "make a way out of no way"

How Jesus's use of parables to teach about his envisioned "Kingdom of God" —where there's access for all, oppressors reformed and oppressed liberated, all needs met and all gifts celebrated — invites people to engage their sanctified imaginations to join in the work for a more just world, here and now

AutScape's & Crip Camp’s modeled possibilities for a fully accessible, disability-centered world

various directors / show writers who, through writing, discovered something new about themselves (think the Wachowski sisters & The Matrix, Dan Harmon and Community)

If you give it a listen (or read), I'd love to hear what you think! Did you connect with the concept of imagining better futures into reality? Any other Star Trek episodes you think encapsulate that well?

____

Transcript of the above audio clip:

Avery: I definitely think the writers of this episode were thinking about how When Deep Space Nine was coming out, people's response to seeing Sisko was, Yeah, is, you can't have a black space captain. A black man can't be the hero of Star Trek!

Which just shows, like, for the viewers, like, Yeah, we've come a long ways here in the 90s. But we still think it's ridiculous to imagine a black space captain and it's only just becoming possible now.

Laura: yeah the um, , editor of the magazine says "put it in a drawer for like a couple of decades and might be--" it's like, yeah, that's

Avery: Yeah.

Laura: inside joke.

Avery: At the end, when, um, Benny Russell breaks down after being fired and everything, the street preacher comes back and, Benny says, "Tell me, please, who am I?"

Don't you know?" "Tell me." "You're the dreamer and the dream."

Laura: ah, this is so amazing.

Avery: And, like, yeah, that fits on so many different layers with, uh, Benny Russell is dreaming Sisko and dreaming Deep Space nine, and also Sisko is dreaming him, and also breaking the fourth wall,

Laura: yeah, because they're, neither of them are real, they're both fiction and yet they're, yeah. real.

Avery: Yeah. Yeah. Breaking the fourth wall, the writers and Avery Brooks are the dreamers, and the dream. This is, this is what, people have been dreaming of, this even the possibility of this. And they're making it true.

Laura: and at the end, you see him looking out the window and seeing Benny Russell in the reflection of the glass and

Avery: it's such a good shot. It's so good. It like gives me chills

Laura: you Have to cast something into the space you're not there yet to-- that becomes you.

Avery: Yeah. dream yourself into being.

#star trek #ds9 past tense #far beyond the stars #ds9 #deep space nine #We intended for the ep to come out the first week of September in honor of the 2024 Bell Riots predicted in “Past Tense”#buuuut we both run on crip time soooo it's a little late. alas! i still hope folks enjoy our conversation #And hey if you wanna listen to it during those riotous first days of September #just hop on your transporter in your chroniton-particle-logged ship during a temporal surge #and it should beam you right back to when you want to be :P

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pansyfemme · 1 month ago

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what’s your favorite least known songs? i’ve been getting rly into twee lately :3

ummmmmh i have! a lot. but heres a small selection. not all super unknown in terms of.. twee world but i bet for the general listener these might be new

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 18 days ago

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The Command to Leave Sinai

1 Then the Lord said to Moses, “Leave this place, you and the people you brought up out of Egypt, and go up to the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, saying, ‘I will give it to your descendants.’ 2 I will send an angel before you and drive out the Canaanites, Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. 3 Go up to the land flowing with milk and honey. But I will not go with you, because you are a stiff-necked people and I might destroy you on the way.”

4 When the people heard these distressing words, they began to mourn and no one put on any ornaments. 5 For the Lord had said to Moses, “Tell the Israelites, ‘You are a stiff-necked people. If I were to go with you even for a moment, I might destroy you. Now take off your ornaments and I will decide what to do with you.’” 6 So the Israelites stripped off their ornaments at Mount Horeb.

The Tent of Meeting

7 Now Moses used to take a tent and pitch it outside the camp some distance away, calling it the “tent of meeting.” Anyone inquiring of the Lord would go to the tent of meeting outside the camp. 8 And whenever Moses went out to the tent, all the people rose and stood at the entrances to their tents, watching Moses until he entered the tent. 9 As Moses went into the tent, the pillar of cloud would come down and stay at the entrance, while the Lord spoke with Moses. 10 Whenever the people saw the pillar of cloud standing at the entrance to the tent, they all stood and worshiped, each at the entrance to their tent. 11 The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend. Then Moses would return to the camp, but his young aide Joshua son of Nun did not leave the tent.

Moses and the Glory of the Lord

12 Moses said to the Lord, “You have been telling me, ‘Lead these people,’ but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. You have said, ‘I know you by name and you have found favor with me.’ 13 If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you. Remember that this nation is your people.”

14 The Lord replied, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”

15 Then Moses said to him, “If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. 16 How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?”

17 And the Lord said to Moses, “I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name.”

18 Then Moses said, “Now show me your glory.”

19 And the Lord said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. 20 But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.”

21 Then the Lord said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. 22 When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. 23 Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.” — Exodus 33 | New International Version (NIV) Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® All rights reserved worldwide. Cross References: Genesis 6:8; Genesis 12:7; Exodus 3:7-8; Exodus 3:10; Exodus 3:12; Exodus 5:1; Exodus 23:30; Exodus 23:27; Exodus 32:34; Exodus 34:6; Leviticus 20:24; Leviticus 20:26; Numbers 12:8; Numbers 14:1; Numbers 14:39; Deuteronomy 4:37; 1 Kings 19:9; Psalm 18:2; Psalm 80:3; Psalm 80:7; Psalm 91:1; Psalm 91:4; Isaiah 45:3; John 1:18; John 14:21; Acts 7:36; Acts 7:51; Romans 9:15; 1 Timothy 6:16

Exodus 33 Commentary - John Gill's Exposition of the Bible

Key Passages in Exodus 33

1. The Lord refuses to go as he had promised with the people 4. The people mourn there 7. The tabernacle is removed out of the camp 9. The Lord talks familiarly with Moses 12. Moses prevails with God, and desires to see his glory

#command #depart #Sinai #Israel #tent of meeting #Lord #Pillar of Cloud #Exodus 33 #Book of Exodus #Old Testament #NIV #New International Version Bible #Biblica Inc.

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hatchetfield-omegaverse · 18 days ago

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Hail Petey, Full of Grace (2/5)

By: Myself & @daisyybellls

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter Summary:

“Oh, his grandchild?” Jerry says with the shit eating grin on his face. “I thought it was an immaculate conception? You're telling me Stephanie that, on top of being an accomplice to assaulting two counselors, your boyfriend also lied to the whole camp.”

Shit. Steph bites her tongue when she realizes what she'd done. What a rookie mistake, revealing Pete's lie like that. She Knew better than that. Honestly. Luckily, Steph has years of experience at avoiding being caught in a lie. Experience that she's more than happy to put to use if it means keeping Pete out of trouble.

“No,” Steph says, keeping her voice measured, “it was an immaculate conception, just like Pete said. My dad has just uh… offered to take Peter in in case his brother didn’t accept him. Like, uh shoot, what’s that guy's name?”

“Joseph.” Boy Jerry says through gritted teeth. “His name was Joseph”

“Right!” Steph snaps her fingers. “Joseph. See if Grace is right about this whole Mother Mary thing, which she is, that would make me Joseph, right?”

A/N:

@daisyybellls: thank you so much to my co-writer girlwithcateyes or editing this chapter (and adding 1200 words bc my brain is finals mush) your the best, and a great big thank you to my friend and ao3 user randomramblingsofme for helping me come up with all the good jokes in this Chapter.

Note: I looked up the bible verses featured in this chapter and picked the translation that would work best, so they might not all match up to being in the same version, but also this is a Hatchetfield fanfic so I don't think anyone cares. I care so now you need to know

Chapter 2: The Annunciation

“Mom, Dad,” Grace says, pushing her peas around. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the Virgin Mary lately.”

Both of their forks stop moving at the same time. Karen and Mark look at each other and then over at Grace.

“Oh honey, you aren’t thinking of becoming a Catholic are you?” Karen furrows her brows. Grace gasps, she’d never. Catholics were idol worshipers who prayed to the dead, she would sooner die than convert to Catholicism.

“Now, let’s not jump to any conclusions, Mother.” Mark says. “It’s normal for a young girl to be curious about such matters. Let's at least hear her out before passing judgment.”

“No I just.” She bites her lip; she can’t just come out and tell her parents about Steph yet, but then she remembers the fifth commandment. “Well there’s this person at school who's experiencing an unexpected pregnancy, and I was trying to find a way to minister to them.”

“Oh lord above.” Karen says, bringing a hand to her chest. There's a metallic clink as her fork hits the plate.“I wasn’t aware that something like that happened at Hatchetfield High, do you think we should pull you out?”

“Oh no!” Grace says. Hatchetfield High might have been a nest of sin, but even Daniel needed to go to Babaylon. As frightening as it could be, Grace knew that saving the souls of her fellow classmates was worth witnessing the sins that she did. “It’s nothing like that, I just think that they just need some extra counseling during their time of need, and I thought Mary would be a good example for them.”

“Well then of course dear!” Karen says “It was important that she said yes to God because otherwise Jesus wouldn’t exist.”

“Your Mother is right,” Mark chimes in, “why I believe that all young ladies should aspire to be as virtuous as Mary was.”

“Do you know who it is?” Karen asks after a moment of silence. “We’ve put aside some funds at the church, and I’d love for some of that money to go to someone in need.”

“I doubt that Stephine Lauter will need any money.” Grace snorts, sawing a piece of piece of her meatloaf. Oh fudge! She hadn’t meant to let that out. She’d promised not to tell anyone. Well cats out of the bag now, and besides, her parents were good, god honoring people. They would want to help Stephanie as best they could.

“Isn’t that the Mayor’s daughter?” Mark asked, brows furrowing.

Grace nods her mouth full of meatloaf. She was going to mention the award Steph got for having sex, but if her parents knew that there was a secret sex ring at Hatchetfeld they’d pull her out for sure, and then she wouldn’t be able to minister to all the lost souls there! She supposed that some secrets would have to just stay secrets. For everyone's sake.

“Interesting,” Karen murmurs, “very interesting.”

Grace continues chewing her meatloaf. She hadn’t meant to reveal Stephaine’s secret but it was better that an adult knew. But now that someone knows, they’ll tell Steph’s dad! Then he can help her out! Get her the support she needs. That's what parents do: they help their children who are struggling.

Grace looks at Pete standing up on that stage, and something finally clicks in her head. She finally gets why some Catholics called Mary The New Arc Of The Covenant: through her the Savior was able to come into the world. Pete looks radiant: the sun frames the back of his head almost light a halo, and she can feel the Holy Spirit pulling her towards Peter. It must have taken so much courage to say yes to carrying the savior, especially since he wasn’t that religious. He’d made the ultimate sacrifice, giving up his body for God’s purpose and even if she was a little jealous that it wasn’t her.

In that moment she decides she needs to do everything in her power to make this a comfortable pregnancy for Peter. After all, he might be able to put in a good word for the Savior. She thinks back to Elizabeth and how she had been such a good friend and confidant, and she was the mother of John the Baptist, one of the most important people besides Jesus.

Oh yes, she can all but hear a holy voice telling her to take Peter under her wing. ‘ Grace,’ it calls to her, ‘It's your job now to help young Peter. He's going to face many trials and tribulations now that he's carrying The Messiah, and it's your job to guide him. Show him and The Messiah my light as I know only you can.’

So when Pete announces in front of everyone on the first day of camp that an angel (i.e THE ARCHANGEL FLIPPING GABRIEL) visited him in a dream, it all clicks into place and before she even realizes what’s happening she’s standing up and..

“Just like MOTHER MARY,” Grace adds. Perhaps a little louder than she means to because now everyone is staring at her, like she’s crazy but it all makes sense now and she can’t believe that no one else can see it. Their savior is right here at Camp Idontwannabang and everyone is acting like it's nothing. They should be kissing Peter's feet for his sacrifice. Boy Jerry turns his eerie gaze on Grace. He smiles widely but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m familiar with her” Boy Jerry says “But Grace, might I remind you that the Virgin Mary was also a woman. ”

“But umm what if…” Grace dry swallows, “what if God gave Peter mommy parts so he can have the Messiah?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Boy Jerry says, “Why would the Messiah come though a man?”

“Umm because he came though a woman last time?” Grace says and Boy Jerry just laughs as the rest of the camp starts to snicker along with him.

"I've seen people like him attend Camp Idontwannabang before.” Boy Jerry sneers, circling Pete like a panther ready to pounce. Grace’s fists clench in anger as he speaks.

“Seductresses. Temptresses. Jezebels of every type” Jerry looks around at the campers, his eyes landing on Girl Jeri who quickly looks down at her shoes. “Unfortunately he's not the first, nor will he be the last, vixen who tries to lead innocent campers astray.”

The chorus of campers starts to grow in snickering, muttering about how Grace must be losing her mind. But she doesn't listen to any of that, the voice in her head cutting through all the nonsense surrounding her.

“But what if you're wrong?” She asks, silencing the crowd with her simple question. She walks up to the stage where Pete and the Jerries are standing and turns to look back at the crowd, steadying herself before asking, “What if the almighty is going to return to earth through this boy?” She points at Pete who seems just as confused. “And what if, by ignoring this child in need and mocking him, you're damning yourself for all time?”

“Well fine,” Boy Jerry says, thumping a Bible down in Grace’s hand, “if you can find any Biblical evidence for this kind of event I’ll believe you.”

Grace gives Pete a quick look, and it’s all over now. Not even Grace is going to be able to spin a Bible verse to prove this immaculate conception. He’s going to have to spend the rest of the summer as the poster child for abstinence for these anti-sex weirdos.

“Umm ok.” Grace says, flipping through the worn pages of the black leather book. Eventually, she lands on a passage and reads, “This is from the Gospel of Mattew, So I will call you Peter, which means ‘a rock.’ On this rock I will build my church, and death itself will not have any power over it.”* The conviction in her voice growing with every word.

She moves the Bible closer to her chest and closes her eyes, her lips move in a silent prayer.

“Well? Go on?” Boy Jerry says gesturing at Peter. More specifically to his belly. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Well- Maybe the lord is going to rebuild his church through Peter.” Grace says her conviction growing with every world, “And after the second coming, the righteous are going to live forever, right? So it’s possible that, through Peter, Christ is going to come again, and death will not prevail over him.”

Holy shit… Grace Chastity might actually be a genius. Maybe he should be a little more concerned at how easily she can twist the Bible to fit her options, but right now Pete is too relieved to think about that. He exhales for what feels like the first time all week.

To his shock, some of the other campers actually start clapping at her words. Boy Jerry snatches the Bible out of Graces hand and flips to a section that’s bookmarked with a well worn cloth bookmark.

“I have another passage that might describe this situation a little better.” Jerry says to the group and turns to a well worn bookmark ribbon. “In the Revelation of Jesus Christ, John writes about a woman he sees who is often described as the whore of babylon. ‘ And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet color, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication.’”**

Pete’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. What’s this guy's damage? Where (or where not) does a thirty-something get off on slut shaming teenagers.

“How could you say that?” Grace cries in indignation. “What if Joseph hadn’t believed Mary: she would have gotten stoned to death! And Jesus would have never been born, and then none of us would be here today!”

The campers start to murmur at that. Peter thinks he hears the word Pharisee thrown around more than once. He can see a vein start to strain against Boy Jerry's forehead that he's sure is seconds away from bursting. After a minute of this, Girl Jerri steps in and grabs Grace's arm. Pete feels a protective pull in gut and is ready to stand up and defend her but the look in Steph's eyes stops him.

“Thank you so much for that spirited conversation Grace but, as a junior counselor, you really don’t have the authority to be arguing with Jerry.” Girl Jeri says, “You wouldn't want to be demoted down to just regular camper, now would you?”

That seems to shut Grace up for a moment. Then, with fire in her eyes she turns to the crowd.

“Well no, but I have a duty to Christ first.” Grace says turning from the Jerries towards the rest of the campers, “And so do all of you, if we don’t support Mother Mary now, who knows what Jesus will do to us when he comes BACK.”

Murmurs erupt from the rest of the campers as both of the Jerries have to forcibly Grace from the stage. She doesn’t go quietly though; wildly kicking her legs back and forth. Pete smiles to himself, knowing that the Jerries are probably going to end up with some bruised shins.

While the Jerries are busy with Grace, the other campers slowly turn towards Steph and Pete and stare. Elijah, the counselor from before, starts trying to herd everyone back towards the cabins for the first activity of the day. Somehow in all the commotion, Pete ends up back by Steph’s side.

“What the fuck what that?” Steph says, pulling him as close as their allowed to.

“I don’t know.” Pete shrugs, “Who knows what goes on in the twisted mind of Grace Chastity. ”

“This is going to be a long summer.” Steph mutters.

And it was. Since he was ‘a bystander to violence against a counselor’, Pete got lumped in with Grace’s solitary confinement and had to stay in his cabin for a week. Which meant Steph wouldn’t see the father of her child for a full week. On the plus side, it meant no Grace for a week, so she supposed it evened out.

Monday is spent making wallets (borning), canoeing (slightly less boring), and making boondoggles (extremely boring). Activities which do nothing in distracting Steph ofPeter's absence. All she can think about is him, alone in his cabin, with no one to know if he needs help. And yet, as she's forced to attend an evening sermon where Boy Jerry waxes poetically on the virtues of ‘Just saying no.’, she can't help but feel like he's the lucky one. At least solitary confinement means that Pete gets to avoid all of this. That night, as she tosses and turns in her bunk, Steph feels like bashing her head in, and she still has six more days to get through.

Tuesday morning, Steph wakes up to the sounds of people still shuffling around the cabin. Strange. Everyone has usually left by the time she’s gotten up. She sits up and stretches, watching her cabin mates rush around the room.

“What’s going on?” She mutters, voice barely audible over the sound of something hitting the top of the roof.

“Good, Stephanie you're up. Start gathering your stuff.” Mary, her stuck up counselor, says. “There’s a bad thunderstorm, so we all have to move to the Big House till it passes.”

Right, well that explained what the sound on the roof was.

“Why? It's just a little rain?” Steph asks, ever the contrarian. Besides, she's warm and doesn’t want to leave her bed.

“Well, if you want to be in a wooden cabin when it’s hit by lightning, then be my guest,” Mary says, “but if not, be in the Big House in an hour.”

Which is how she ends up in the Big House at 10 in the morning. It’s not that bad, it’s the only place on the premises that has air conditioning, so that’s a plus. But, with all 140 campers having been stuffed into the building's confines, it’s a bit of a tight squeeze. Worst of all, she can’t find Peter anywhere. Eventually, she finds the Jerries in the great room.

“Hi Jerri, have you seen Pete?” She asks.

The older woman doesn’t look her in the eyes , but starts muttering something that Steph can’t make out, teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

“He’s still in his cabin.” Boy Jerry says as he comes up behind her. He places a hand on Jeri’s shoulder that Steph doesn’t like at all. “After all, he’s in solidarity, he needs to learn his lesson doesn’t he, Girl Jeri ?”

Jeri nods obediently at his words, her green eyes dark with worry. Steph just furrows her brow.

“What if he gets sick?” She asks, voice thick with worry. “You know won’t just be bad for him?”

“Well, he should have thought of that before he acted out. It's like they say: you do the crime, you do the time.” Jerry says, turning away from her to do something else.

Oh no, oh hell no. He's not getting out of this that easy. Steph pulls on his stupid Virginity Rocks shirt forcing him to look back at her.

“I don’t think my father, Mayor Lauter, would appreciate the father of his grandchild being left out in the cold.” Steph says. She hates pulling the ‘my dad’s the mayor’ card this early in the conversation, but she’s desperate to see Pete safe.

“Joseph.” Boy Jerry says through gritted teeth. “His name was Joseph”

“Right!” Steph snaps her fingers. “Joseph. See if Grace is right about this whole Mother Mary thing, which she is, that would make me Joseph, right?”

“It would.” Boy Jerry says slowly, “Don’t expect any special attention though.”

“I wouldn’t,” Steph says, “sir.”, she adds at the last second. Jerry seems like the kinda guy who likes being called sir.

“Good.” Jerry says, then walks away.

“I’ll do what I can.” Jeri says, giving her a weak smile. “He just get in these kinds of moods sometimes”

Steph gives her a smile.

“Jeri!” Jerry calls and she shuffles after him. She's only just turned when Steph sees it. There, peeking out from just under the hem of Girl Jeri’s sleeve, lays an angry red mark in the vaguest shape of a hand. Steph's jaw clenches as she notes how similar it is in size to Boy Jerry's hands. Holy man indeed.

Wednesday is barely any better. The onslaught of rain hasn't stopped, which means they are still stuck in the big house. They'd spent the night there: boys on one side and girls on the other, a makeshift wall of sheets between them and counselors keeping guard in order to prevent any ‘funny business’. Steph hadn’t slept a wink, too busy worrying about Pete to even consider getting any rest. She hoped that the rain would have stopped by the morning, but unfortunately the storm had other plans. One of the other counselors says that the last time it rained like this was 18 years ago, where it had stormed the entire first week of camp. Steph really hopes that this isn't a repeat of that.

Steph spends the day playing round after round of go fish and board games with some of the kids from the Eleven year olds group, the rain continuing to come down on the roof all the while. Other people have started to notice that Grace is gone. Apparently, she’s kind of a legend among these weird Bible kids. She’s been coming to camp as long as some of them have even been alive. She’s even babysat most of the younger ones for years. And, without Grace around, there’s been a vacuum created that apparently Steph is going to fill.

She’s forced to play about a million games of crazy eights with the younger kids. In between games they seem to have an infinite amount of questions about the storm for her.

“Stephie?” One of the younger ones, Annie Steph thinks her name is, asks after she wins another couple of games “Why did God make the storm come during camp?”

“Uh, listen I’m not really the person to ask about that kinda thing.” Steph says. “I didn’t really grow up with that kinda thing, Church and all that.”

The kids around her flinch as if she’d said she never brushed her teeth before in her life. Just when they all seem to calm down from that revelation a clap of thunder echoes outside and all of them flinch again. A flash of lightning illuminates the room and the kids huddle closer to her, fear evident of their tiny faces.

“Is God mad at us?” Annie ask, clinging to her arm. “Is he punishing us for something?”

“No, of course he’s not.” Steph moves her hand to pet Annie’s hair in a way she’s seen mothers do in movies. A way that she so vaguely remembers her own mother doing before she died. “The storm is nothing more than, uh god bowling.”

That makes the kids laugh a little bit and Annie wipes away her tears. Steph feels a small pang in her chest that feels strange and foreign. She only has a second to think about it before Jerry walks past her on the phone.

“Give me a second. You guys keep playing without me.” Steph says to the kids while moving after Jerry. She can only hear one end of the conversation.

“Yes, he’s doing fine.” Jerry says with that false cheery tone. “No, I'm sorry I can’t put him on the phone. Sorry, that's just camp policy. It’s to combat homesickness. I understand that this is a unique set of circumstances Mr. Spankoffoski, but our policies are clearly outlined on our website. He’s doing great, really taking to the message, yep. I'll pass on the message. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Spankoffoski.”

She follows him up into the laundry room of the Big House: three sets of washers and dryers were pushed up against one wall. Jerry was sitting against the other wall.

“You're lying.” Steph says without thinking. She walks forward, hands on her hips. “Why are you lying to his older brother?”

Jerry sits up, surprised that Steph was in the room with him.

“That was a personal conversation, Stephanie.” Jerry spits out. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is when my boyfriend is stuck in a solitary cabin while you're lying to his brother about it!” Steph practically yells at him. She’s ready to fucking murder this man if he doesn’t get Peter out of solitary soon.

“You know Stephanie,” Jerri says in his trademark faux charming voice, “I had a very similar situation when I was your age. I was seduced by a girl, she got pregnant, and tried to force me to take responsibility for her harlotry.”

“That’s not what Pete’s doing, and you know it takes two to tango,” Steph spits back at him. Her fists clench. “I have a responsibility as the Earthly mother of that child.”

“But that's the thing, you don’t have to. I know Grace can get a little carried away with some of these things, she tends to take things a tad too literally sometimes.”

“She’s not a liar and neither is Peter.” Steph says, lying through her teeth.

“I know. And people who tell the truth deserve to be rewarded, don't you agree?”

“It depends.” Steph says. “I think that tattletales deserve what’s coming to them.”

“Well, I think I could help out anyone who tells the truth. ” Jerry says. “Like say getting them out of camp activities if they were to say… admit to certain falsehoods that they had been involved in perpetuating.”

“Well there haven’t been many camp activities going on lately, have there?” Steph counters. “So that’s not a particularly good reward, now is it?”

“We could possibly also arrange an early graduation, as I understand it the people of Hatchetfield have a little shindig around the Fourth of July? July first seems like a great graduation date don’t you think?”

The Monroe's block party. Steph had gone every year since she could walk. They always bought more booze than anyone knew what to do with. It made the perfect opportunity to steal away and get completely fucked up without any consequences. It was always the best part of her summer. For a split second she considers it. She could last here another three weeks if it meant being able to drink consequence free.

She could imagine it now: swimming in the Monroe's massive pool, the American flag fruit cake that Linda Monroe always insisted was homemade, and stealing her fair share of free booze. God she couldn't wait to spend the evening curling up under the fireworks, beer bottle in hand, making out with… with Pete. Pete who wouldn't be there because he'd be stuck here. Probably going through worse punishments because she'd have sold him out.

No. She wouldn’t let Pete go through the rest of camp by himself. Wouldn’t put him through another two months without her. Besides, she'd miss her baby anyway. She and Pete were in this together, and Steph was not about to sell him up the river for warm beer and fireworks.

“It does sound tempting Jerry,” Steph says, “but I don’t think I’ve really learned my lesson, besides I’d hate to miss the end of Camp fire circle!” She’s sure to a bit of Grace Chasity's brand of pep into her voice as an extra fuck you.

Grace is man handled into a solitary cabin by Boy Jerry and one of the other male counselors. But she doesn’t go down without a struggle. Grace is kicking, screaming, and just generally the whole way to the cabin.

“You can’t do this!” Grace shouts. “I’m a junior counselor, aren't only campers supposed to be put in solitary?” That had been in C.I.T manual last year, ‘only campers who commit major infractions (see appendix 3 subjection 4) will be subject to solitary confinement, based on the infraction committed (see appendix 3 subjection 5)’. Grace had memorized the whole thing last year because she’d missed camp so much.

“Well, it’s really up to the discretion of the head of camp.” Jerry says. “Which just so happens to be me, and I’ve been wanting to this for a long time.”

Then they unceremoniously toss her into the cabin, not even letting her stop to get anything from her cabin. She bangs on the door but her cries seem to fall on deaf ears.

After a couple of hours of pleading with the door Grace realizes something. This has to be a test from God: he’s using the Jerries to make sure that she’s really ready to help the new mother of Christ. This baby has a lifetime of non-believers just like the Jerries ahead of them, and it'll be Grace's job to protect Pete and the baby from harm. Part of her almost pities the Jerries for their ignorance. She knows they'll regret their actions when the new Christ is born. But she tried to warn them and they refused to listen.

They didn’t allow her to go get her PJ’s out of her cabin so she’s left to stew in her Virginity Rocks shirt. It’s unclear whether or not she’s stuck here for only a couple of days or the whole summer, but she plans on making the best of it all.

After nearly three days of trying to avoid the leaks in the roof, Grace had combed the cabin top to bottom. She’d only found one loose floorboard, under which was a box full of porngraphic material (gross she probably touched some wayward spunk!) Some hologain had carved his initials into the floorboard JRF 6/10/2002. Gosh that was only about a week into camp. Grace can’t even imagine what someone would have to do to get sent to solitary in the first week. Well she was in solitary the first week… but that was different! She did the work of the lord!

On the third day of her confinement, she’s praying on her bed when the door opens.

“Are you going to let me out of solidarity now?” Grace asks when the Jerries walk through the door.

“You were never in solidarity, we just thought you could use some alone time after your little outburst.” Boy Jerry says. Grace looks at his legs but he’s wearing long khakis, and the bruises that she had seen the last time they spoke were hidden.

“We don’t want to encourage people to rebel against authority, god doesn’t like that.” Girl Jeri says, putting her hand on Grace’s thigh. Her smile seems more plastic than usual. “You have to understand that.”

“We must obey God rather than men.”*** Grace mutters under her breath. She thinks of Jesus turning over the tables in the temple, of Daneil in the Lion’s den, Esther disobeying the king of Babylon.

“You should come join us for a craft circle so that all the campers see how well you're doing.” Boy Jerry offers, “We're weaving baskets today. I know that's a favorite of yours.”

“Well, I’m not going to change my beliefs based on anything you say.” Grace says. “So if that’s going to be a problem, then you might as well leave me in here.”

The Jerries look back at each other and seem to have a whole conversation in the span of a look.

“Listen Grace,” Jeri says, “we need to know that we can trust you not to revolt against the camp, ok?”

Revolt against camp? That had never been her intention; she was just trying to reveal the word of Christ to her fellow campers, sure she did assault Boy Jerry, and she did feel bad about that, but she wasn't about to overthrow the Jerries.

“I’m sorry about your knees, Boy Jerry.” She says, bowing her head. “I was just trying to do what you told me to do.”

“What do you mean dear?” Jeri asks. She sits next to Grace on the bed and she instinctively leans her head on Jeri’s chest.

“It's just that you always taught me to be loud and proud of my love for Jesus Christ.” She says as Jeri pets her hair “And I was trying to show my support for the new Mother Mary.”

Jerry continues to glare at her but, just as he starts to say something, Jeri cuts him off.

“I know that dear.” Jeri says. “But sometimes in the process you hurt people, so why don’t you come warm up in the big house and get some hot cocoa and a shower, then we can talk this out ok?”

Grace sniffles, it had been hard these past couple of days. The last time she’d gotten into trouble was when she’d stayed up an hour past her bedtime when she was five years old and that had eaten her up for years. This kind of rebellion wasn't in her nature, even if she was doing the right thing. It must have been so hard for Jesus; having to rebel against authority to spread God's love.

“Yea, that sounds nice.” Grace says, standing up and for the first time in three days she leaves the cabin.

She’s granted a hero's welcome when she walks into the Big House, the campers quite literally breaking into applause at her entrance. Some of the younger campers cling to her leg as she walks though the big house. Everyone high fives her, even Gabe gives her a respectful nod. The Jerries try to calm them down but everyone is going completely feral and don’t even notice what’s going on.

“Guys,” Grace giggles, “I know you all missed me so much, but we really shouldn’t be focused on me right now.” she motions for everyone to settle down a little bit. “We really should be focusing on the mother to be? We have so much to do before the baby gets here. Where is he?”

Everyone goes silent at that. Grace looks around trying to see what’s happening. She looks to Girl Jeri for answers, but the Co-head pastor won't her gaze.

“Where is he?” She asks. “Come on, where’s Peter?”

Steph is the first one to meet her eyes.

“He’s still in solitary.” Steph says, glaring behind her at the Jerries. “They haven’t let him out since they put you in there”

“You what?” Grace says and in that moment lightning flashed across the sky. It's then that everything clicks. That's the reason the storm is happening. God must be angry at the Jerries if the storm has lasted this long.

“Well, you have to let him go.” Grace says, crossing her arms. “Why do you think the rains have been this bad? The Lord has been made angry that his new Queen of Heaven is being ignored!”

The campers look among each other. But Stephine is the first one to say anything.

“You're right, Grace.” Steph says. “We really should let him out, maybe then we can get back to all those fun camp activities we haven’t gotten to do since we’ve gotten stuck in here.”

There’s something off about Steph's tone, but Grace doesn’t care about that right now. Some of the younger campers agree with her. Then their older siblings move to agree, soon all of camp is cheering to let them go.

“LET HIM OUT! LET HIM OUT!”They all chant in unison, Grace and Stephanie's voices some of the loudest.

Boy Jerry seems flabbergasted as he tries and fails to get everyone under control. Grace sees Jeri whisper something in his ear and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine!” Jerry yells. “We can let him out!”

That’s all it takes for the campers, led by Steph and Grace to barrel out of the big house and towards the Gomorrah cabin to free Pete, stopping only briefly for Steph to grab a key ring from Boy Jerry's belt.

Grace organizes everyone into a line (marching two by two, Noah's arc style) as they march towards the cabin. Steph struggles with the keys. Then she finally finds the right one. “Pete?” She calls into the cabin.

There's a moment of deafening silence as everyone holds their breath. It takes a moment till Pete answers the door with a “Hello?”

All of them explode in cheers as a very confused Peter Spankoffski walks out of the cabin. He looks bewildered as everyone starts to celebrate. What's more, seemingly the exact second that Pete steps out of the cabin, the rain stops and the sun shines on Camp Idontwannabang once more, which just makes everyone go crazier.

“What’s going on?” Pete asks, looking at Steph. He’s too close to her for camp regulation, but Grace can give the holy family a break on this occasion. “They locked the door on me and wouldn’t tell me anything when they slipped food though.”

“The Lord was punishing the camp.” Grace says, looking at the clear blue sky with the appropriate amount of reverence. “For keeping his chosen one locked up, he sent a storm, and now that you're free he’s lifted his punishment.”

“Wel, l” Jerry says, crossing his arms over his chest ,“since the Lord Of The Universe has forgiven us I suppose a celebration is in order.”

His voice sounds different from Jerry’s usual happy voice, and Grace doesn’t understand why. They should be celebrating. The campers cheer again.

“Hey Grace?” Stephanie tugs. “Would you mind covering for us for a bit? I need to talk to Pete for a second. Alone. ”

She’s not supposed to. As a Junior Counselor Grace is tasked with making sure that campers are not left alone with each other, especially campers of the opposite sex. But Steph is dating the next earthly mother of the Messiah and that is a lot to take in. Gosh, maybe Pete hadn’t told Steph that it was the next Jesus. Maybe she had a dream about being the earthly father of Christ. Grace says a silent prayer that she took it well and nothing happens to him.

“Of course, Steph!” Grace says, her normal pep entering her voice “Just make sure you guys are back in time for the fire circle, ok?”

Steph nods quickly, grabbing Pete’s hand as she does. They walk off together into the long light of smmer. Grace can swear that she sees twin circles of light encircle both of their heads. She hopes that she remembers to tell the baby about them. Crimmeny she might even end up as Aunt Grace. She smiles at the thought. Auntie Gracie certainly has a nice ring to it.

Steph doesn’t take her hand off him till they’re a safe distance from any prying eyes. She’s gotta make sure that Pete is alright and that they didn’t do anything to him while she couldn’t see. They finally reach a clearing in the witchwood that’s far enough away that no one else can see them.

“Are you ok?” She asks, turning to him “Did they do any freaky shit to you? Did they hurt you? Because we can sue if they did.”

Pete just looks at her for a moment and giggles.

“No, of course not,” Pete smiles at her and that part of her brain that had been screaming danger for the past week calms down a little bit, “I basically got put on bed rest for three days.”

“Good.” Steph says, taking her hands off of his shoulders. “I was so worried that something would happen to you or the baby and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

“I’m ok, I promise” Pete says. Steph can’t help but sniffle. She didn’t think of herself as a crier, but the last couple of days had kept her on high alert.

“Hey Steph,” Pete says with a smile, putting her hand on his bump so she can feel a little kick, “do you know what today is?”

“Uhh, it’s June 9th I think?” She says wiping a tear off her face. “I don’t know. They all kinda blurred together during the storm.” She’d taken a couple naps to stave of boredom, though now she wasn’t sure how many times Jerry had called for lights out.

“It’s June Tenth actually.” Pete says. He nudges Steph with his elbow. “Happy Birthday. Congrats on being a legal adult.”

Oh. He’s right. Usually she would have been planning her party for months. Would have had a countdown going for weeks now, culminating with a celebratory birthday pancake breakfast at Miss Retro's. But she’d been too busy worrying about going to camp, stressing out over the pregnancy, and dealing with whatever the hell Grace was doing to think about herself.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize.” Steph murmurs. “Guess I am.”

It didn't feel real. This time last year she’d been drunk off cheap beer: She, Brenda, and Stacy had organized the first real rager of the summer. They’d invited anyone who was anyone and the smoke club of course, they might have been losers but they always shared their weed so they always got invited. Max had smashed her face in the grocery store cake and it had only said APY BTD SEP. She’d gotten plastered and made out with Jason before hurling off her dad’s balcony. It had been her best birthday on record.

She'd promised herself last year that she would throw an even better party for her 18th birthday. She wanted to throw the biggest rager Hatchetfield had ever seen to celebrate being an adult. Being free from her father.

And now she was here. In the middle of the woods with ‘Mirco-Peter’ Spankoffiski, quite possibly the biggest loser of Hatchetfield High, feeling his pregnant stomach. What a year it’s been. She almost feels disappointed. Then the baby kicks and Steph starts to cry. Because there was nowhere else she’d be right now than in the middle of the woods with her little family. Overcome with emotion she leans down and kisses the bump.

“Listen baby ” She says leaning in so only the baby can hear, “You know your granddad is a grade a asshole but I promise I’m gonna be a better parent, I don’t know how yet but I’m gonna at least be better than him.”

She kisses Pete’s stomach one more time before leaning up to kiss Pete again.

“I love both of you.” Steph murmurs, kissing him on the cheek. They’d said it before, right before they’d figured out he was pregnant in fact, but she hadn’t really said it since. Her dad had never really been that affectionate with her. She’d learned at an early age that affection was a sign of weakness. Something that had definitely carried over into her relationships.

“Happy birthday babe, love you too.” Pete says when they pull away. They didn’t need to acknowledge what a big deal it was for her to say that to him. But that look in his eyes says I'm proud of you and that was enough for her. “I couldn’t get you a cupcake or anything, but I promise to get you something when we’re out of here. IOU is a better birthday than one at abstinence camp.”

“I’ll hold you to that” Steph smiles. “Come one we should get to the fire circle before anyone sees that we’re missing, don’t want Boy Jerry on our asses.”

The fire circle is actually pretty fun, everyone’s excited to be outside for the first time all week. Jeri brings out some rope friendship bracelets. Annie shows Steph how to do it and she’s actually not half bad at it. She makes a trans one for herself and is getting started on a matching one for Pete when none other than Grace-fucking-Chasity sits next to her. Steph rolls her eyes as she sits down.

“How’s the bracelet coming?” Grace asks, clearly awkwardly trying to make small talk. “I like the colors, they remind me of camp.”

“Sure they do, Grace.” Steph chuckles a little bit at that. “This ones gonna be for Pete but I can make you one afterwards if you want?”

“Oh, that’s ok.” Grace says. “I think that you should have a matching one with Pete, almost like wedding rings.”

That idea makes Steph’s heart light up. She’d never really been able to commit to a person before. She’d always been the one to break things off before they got too serious. She’d never been the first one to say she loved someone. Pete was actually the guy she’d said ‘I love’ you the most (six whole times). And yet… She wouldn't necessarily mind marrying Pete.

In fact, the idea of marrying Pete sounded nice. She always thought that marriage meant having to spend her life tolerating someone else's presence. But the idea of getting to wake up next to Pete, to go to sleep in his arms. Getting to be around him everyday. It sounded amazing. A smile spreads across her face at the thought of it. Besides, they were having a baby together and that was already way more commitment than marriage.

“I guess they are.” She says, warming to the idea of marriage to Pete the more she thinks about it. “I guess at the end of the summer we'll get married.”

“Good.” Grace says picking up a set of friendship bracelet strings. “You should get married before then, I don’t want the Lord Jesus to be born into a broken home.”

See that’s the thing with Grace Chastity, you really never know what the fuck your gonna get with her.

“I don’t think the baby will know that they were born out of wedlock.” Steph says.

“Oh Steph,” Grace gives her a look like ‘ oh poor you’ that fills Steph with irritation, “I always forget that you weren’t raised religious, you see Jesus is God and he’ll see that he’ll be born out of wedlock and then you guys might not get to go to heaven.”

“Sure.” Steph rolls her eyes. She doesn't wanna deal with this right now “But we can’t as well get married at camp, can we?”

That seems to shut Grace up enough that she can finish her friendship bracelet. She doesn’t bother Steph the rest of the night, and after she gets her stuff out of the big house she sleeps like a baby on her uncomfortable camp cabin mattress.

The next morning someone gets her up at the ass crack of dawn. Steph whines as she turns over getting ready to tell who ever it is to fuck off.

“Come on.” Her counselor Mary says. “There’s camp announcements this morning, it’s mandatory attendance, so get dressed.”

Despite her brain screaming that she shouldn’t, she gets dressed anyway and shuffles out the main pavilion. There’s a seat waiting for her up front next to Pete. She takes a seat and spaces out for most of the announcement. Towards the end she tunes back into something interesting. Grace is standing on stage again next to the Jerries. She smiles to herself as she notices that Jerry is standing as far away as possible from Grace.

“I’d like to thank our very own Joseph ” Grace says in a voice that’s just a little to sweet for the sun still rising, “Stephanie Lauter has proudly offered to marry Pete despite the fact that he appears to have gotten pregnant out of wedlock.”

“Steph!” Pete nearly yells. “I mean I’d love to marry you, but I think that’s something we should discuss before you talk to Grace Chastity about it!”

“What?” Steph asks, suddenly wide awake. “When did I agree to that?”

“Last night at the campfire!” Grace says. “Remember how we were talking about you and Pete getting married before the baby comes? Well I thought why not get married at camp during parents weekend! I’ve prepared everything, they're even gonna let you push your bed together for at least one night! And I mean you should be able to petition for a couple more nights in the same cabin since you will be married after all!”

“I’m sorry.” She says lowering her voice so only Pete could hear. “You know how she fucking is, I mean I wouldn’t mind marying you either but she took the idea and ran off with it.”

Steph doesn’t know whether to throttle or thank Grace. She’s stuck between the desire to stay with Pete for the rest of the summer and the humiliation of having to marry Pete whatever that means to Grace in front of basically everyone she’s even known. Not that the actually marrying part would be embarrassing just the fact that it was happening at fucking abstinence camp.

Pete, an angel, smiles and squeezes her hand reassuringly.

Wait… If they were married then she and Pete would be able to share a cabin, unsupervised together. She could spend every night with him and the Jerries wouldn't be able to say anything. After, it wouldn't be premarital, so it's not a sin. Steph looks at Pete, who seems to have put it together seconds before she did. He winks at her and she has to keep herself from laughing.

“So who should we invite?” Grace asks. “I already got Jerries to call Steph’s dad and Pete’s older brother, but is there anyone else we should invite

“Well, you should invite Ruth and Richie.” Pete says trying to hide his smile “I’m sure they’ll wanna see us get married.”

God, Steph loves her boyfriend. No Steph loves her fiance.

A/N:

@daisyybellls: Thank you for reading! Tune in next time for a wedding, and cameo's galore!

* Matthew 16:18

**Revelation 17:4

***Acts 5:29

@girl-with-cat-eyes: I hope you all enjoyed this! Special thank you to pizza for writing this chapter, I really loved how it turned out. As always, thank you for reading and please feel free to tell me what you think in the comments! Shoutout to my lovely co-authors Spoons and Pizza and helping me write this!

This is a sequel to Tear Down My Reason by Calmly Chaotic and What An Ass, What A Bitch, What A Cuck by Calmly Chaotic and mars_of_the_stars

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@lady-loveluck

@forever-forgotten-angel

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