#the topic came to me first while I was in church and I planned to first write it with Laerryn

[beedreamscape]

Zerxus gets caught in morbid conversations.

~ 2.1k words. This takes place pre loquaerryn marriage (yes, they're my measure of time, sue me).

CW for conversation of death and grief.

Zerxus awakes as he feels a stir on the bed. Zerxus calls it instinct, Evandrin calls it a bad habit.

There's an orange glow permeating the darkness and soft grunts from muscles stretching in the air.

He turns to see Evandrin's sitting on the side of the bed with his back to him, still in his sleeping shirt and underwear. Beside where the lampshade sits, on the clock, Zerxus can see it's still a quarter to four.

Zerxus lifts his head from the pillow. "Is there scouting duty today?"

Evandrin turns, face and hair still tousled from sleep. "Morning, darling, go back to sleep, sorry for waking you."

"I would still say good night." Zerxus pulls on the hem of his shirt lazily. "I thought scouting wasn't for another three weeks."

"And you're right, this is something else." Evandrin gets up against his husband's pull and starts putting his trousers on. "One of my soldiers just died, young Hector, and he has no family here in Avalir so I need to sign his death certificate."

"Isn't a cleric that does that?"

He rubs his eye. "Sorry. It's not the certificate, it's a lease for the Conversion."

Zexus sits up. "What conversion?"

Some realization comes Evandrin's eyes before softening. "Oh, I never told you, did I? I don't think you had the chance to see it either... It's how we get rid of bodies in Avalir. Haven't you noticed we have no cemeteries here?"

"Not really. You don't just bury people?"

Evandrin doesn't bother taking his sleeping shirt off, shoving the hem into his pants before taking a dress coat from the rack.

"No, there wouldn't be enough land to bury every dead. And if you consider the funeral rites of the elves who care to perform them, there wouldn't be a need for them anyway. Not to mention they live way too long."

"And what is this conversion?"

"They convert whatever's left of ether inside your body into usable energy. Also from the combustion of it. That's where the name comes from. It feeds the city like a corpse would feed the earth... except way faster and cleaner."

"Sounds very... functional."

"I know." He sits on the bed again and holds Zerxus' hand. "But you can always let someone know if you want it to have it done to your body or not, poor Hector didn't have time or who to tell that so he goes straight into conversion."

With his free hand, Zerxus brushes Evandrin's long hair into better shape. "You can let Tempus eat me before when the time comes."

"Thanks, dear. What if he doesn't find you tasty enough?"

"Tell him to pick me up and drop me in the ocean." He makes the gestures with his hand. "From really high so everyone can see the impact and the sea creatures may eat what's left."

"I'll have it arranged when the time comes. It's more creative than my wish for a pyre on the ocean. It's kinda how my mother chose to go, burnt in a pyre with dragon fire."

"You had a dragon at her funeral?"

He nods. "It was actually a wyvern and it was a trained but it served its purpose. Dad was placed in a burial cave since he had a bit of dwarvish blood, it was what my grandma wanted."

He brings Evandrin's hand to his lips for a kiss. "Thanks for sharing. I wish I could go with you."

"You wouldn't see anything interesting if you did. It all happens in closed chambers bellow city level."

"I don't want to see anything I just didn't want you to go by yourself."

"Don't worry, I've been through my people dying on me before, it's just sad he went so young." He opens a smile and ruffles Zerxus' hair. "Get back to sleep, my lil' paladin."

"I think I'll go check on our tiny little fighter."

"You go do that, just don't scare him this time."

He starts getting up from the bed. "I said it wasn't on purpose."

"I know, but you gotta understand that a six-foot-tall man standing ominously in the dark is terrifying for a little boy."

"I'll turn on the lamp this time."

"Good." He gives Zerxus a little peck. "I won't be long."

"Please don't let them turn you into city juice as well."

He can hear Evandrin's laugh in the corridor. "I won't make any promises."

"Since when has Avalir done this Conversion thing? For the dead?"

He wasn't really interested in getting into this subject, much less with her, he assumes neither is she, but he rarely got the chance to sit down with Laerryn, let alone just the two of them, so he wouldn't get another chance to satiate his curiosity and it's been days since it started plaguing his mind.

A new Marquesian-themed restaurant had opened and they were the only two in their friend group who curiously shared a true appreciation for its foreign cuisine.

She doesn't refrain from shoving a forkful of sillgoat loin chop into her mouth before speaking. "Oh... I guess since the beginning, I'm not sure if we were the ones to come up with it or some other flying city."

"Can't you just disintegrate the body? One spell and poof, it's gone."

"We could but what a waste of precious ether that'd be. You see a single corpse doesn't hold much ether, but when you amount to several deaths a year then it means something. It's not even one and a half percent of the total energy stored in the city but when every drop counts, it's something."

He looks down at his plate, empty with stains of dark red sauce on the perimeter. He always finishes eating first no matter who he's eating with, a mixture of anxiety and hunger only a man his size has. He catches himself staring at her glass of white wine.

"Feels very utilitarian."

"You just haven't been in Avalir long enough. We are a flying city, every handful of resources counts, there are people," she points at herself, "that work to manage that. On top of managing who manages it."

"I know, but it's people we're talking about. Their bodies."

"What do you think I'm talking about? They're just bodies, I've seen them rot before. People are here, living, doing shit. The only person buried in Avalir is our most special boy, Imyr, in his very special mausoleum, which I consider such a waste. Don't tell Patia I said that."

"Why a waste?"

"The older wizards, I'm talking elves, gnomes, dwarves, the big boys, store immense amounts of ether within them. Sorcerers? You could turn the lucky bastards into massive bombs with the right calculations."

"Suddenly I'm more inclined towards it."

She gives him a playful kick under the table.

"But that's necromancers and transmutators playground, minutia and too many physiological factors to take in. I prefer working with big numbers and machines. Despite that, it's a respectable representation of wizards and artificers working together."

"Is that how you want to be taken care of?"

"I think so. However, I would like to be stored into something like a necklace or a sword until someday the yielder has to use me to kill some legendary enemy before floating back into the leylines. But honestly, I'll take what I can get, I'll be dead anyway."

He stares at her chew in amusement, still puzzled at how the woman before him and his husband are the best of friends. "Avalirians have strange death rituals."

"You need to meet the Aeorians then, heard rumors of them preserving the bodies for a really long time."

"For what?"

"How am I supposed to know? Probably something nefarious. As I said, rumours, I'm sure you'll get more from Loquatius or Patia than me."

"I think I've had enough of the subject for now."

She cleans her mouth with a napkin. "I don't personally like talking about death either. Maybe it's an elf thing... but I've had to learn to deal with it since I've befriended so many humans and... other short-living folks."

He never got truly offended by 'human' but something in the way she says it never sat comfortably inside his skull, yet he lets it slip with her. "Who else?"

She thinks for a moment and he can't interpret what passes behind her eyes. "Everyone except Patia."

"Even Van?"

She nods, takes a sip of her wine. "Half-elves don't live a quarter of full elves, some can but most don't. When I think of loss, it's the only time I grow any respect for necromancers, I too have a hard time letting things go."

"I used to think I was very detached from everything, until I got a family. Maybe it'll happen to you as well," he says with a hint of humor.

"I have a family, believe it or not."

"But they're in Cathmoíra. Always seven years away from you."

"Yes... But I do have a version of it here in Avalir, a very busy one that lives in different houses."

He smiles. "We'd kill each otherwise."

She laughs loudly, it always gives him a pang of accomplishment wherever he manages to get it out of her.

"For sure we would. Though I would cut you some slack because of the lil ginger."

"Loquatius would be the first to go."

She takes the last sip with a smile. "Probably, yes."

"First Knight."

The voice is whispery, tiny and soft and as Zerxus turns to its source so is the half-elf woman who owns it. With the cold weather, she's covered by a hooded cape. On her chest, the clasp that closes the cape is a familiar mask.

He had been walking through the city checking for any suspicious behavior and has done it for at least a week since their temporary bridge with Zemnia.

"Hello, miss, how can I help you?"

She keeps her stare fixed on his feet. "Thanks, but I require no assistance. I'm Ivorah Orlan from the Conversion Nucleus."

"Are you a cleric?"

She looks surprised by the question but notices his eyes glancing at her chest. "Yes, cleric of the Matron of Ravens."

He just nods.

"I'm sorry for being forward but there's something I'd like to ask. It's about your late husband."

Zerxus feels a bubbling sickness in his throat, he also feels starved - very few even mention his existence. "Proceed."

"As I said I'm the responsible cleric for the Conversion Nucleus and I was a friend of the First Knight Evandrin. In conversations we had, he had mentioned that when his death came he'd like me to be his sepulchral ritualist, but I never got the chance."

"He didn't want to be Converted."

"I'm aware. He wanted to be burned in a pyre and sent into the Lucidian. But we had that discussion and I never... his body was already dealt with before I had the chance and I feel like I broke a promise," she finishes with a quavering voice.

The memory of the time comes blurry to him, everything around it comes as a big horrifying blur. Loquatius and Patia had dealt with most of the funeral rites, he dealt with Elias, and Nydas dealt with him. Part of the ring had been broken and through fire and violence forced back into shape.

He turns the sickness into a solid mass, a boulder that keeps him from breaking every other hour.

"And you're not the only one." He steels himself. "The nature of his disease, we... we had to let go of many luxuries of honour."

"It still puzzles me what took such a young and strong man..."

"Puzzles me as well."

"Wish I had a chance to..." She closes her eyes, breathes deeply. "At least he was given an honourable funeral march."

"It was the Septarion's making."

She nods with her head down. "I'm sorry bothering you, First Knight."

He places a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you. For caring. Perhaps your Matron has him in her company and I envy her for it."

She lifts her eyes at once, then he sees them for what they are - terrible dark circles, perfect eclipses. "I've sought her insight about it... she doesn't have him in her sights."

"What does that mean?"

Her intensity deflates. "I don't know. I like to believe he went to an even higher place of honour for a soul as pure and valiant as his."

He tries smiling but feels tears sting in his eyes, the boulder starting to melt like a stray iceberg. "So do I."

[nerdygaymormon]

Bishops Council

In my stake, twice a quarter the bishops get together with the stake presidency. I typically do not attend this meeting, but stake president invited me to come since one of the bishops had added "counsel with LGBT youth" as an agenda item.

The stake president has a gay son and is fully capable of speaking to this, but I appreciate that he wanted to include the point of view of someone who is queer.

When we got to this topic, the stake president shared a few slides I had sent him earlier based on some research done at Utah State University.

The stake president then spoke about things he has learned as the dad of a gay child. Primarily that it is his job to love, and his son is going to have his own journey. The things he has learned as the parent of a queer child has helped him be a better stake president.

One of the bishops shared that when he was newly called three years ago that I sent him an email with 10 suggestions. He keeps that email bookmarked and has referred to it several times over the years. It helped him understand his role and that he could be confident in meeting with queer individuals and help them feel seen, loved, and valued. Then he read the list while wiping away tears, and I also was moved to tears to hear him share how impactful these suggestions were for him

David's list of 10 suggestions for bishops

All LGBT members need a trusted adult in their life who loves, supports and sustains them, no matter which path they choose.

When someone “comes out” they should be greeted with love, validation and hope, not a lecture on repentance or reminder of the Church’s stance on same-sex marriage  

Create a safe culture for the LGBT person. This could include speaking to youth and YSA about what sort of conversation their bishop would have with them if they come out, that it’s okay if now is not the right time to come out, and there is no shame to the person or their family if they are gay/trans. There's a good chance there's some LGBT people in your ward, even if you don't know who they are.

Don’t use words like “struggling” or say they’ll be “fixed” in the resurrection

Our Heavenly Parents love their LGBT children, we should give them unconditional love and support and recognize they will bless the lives of others

LGBT individuals are more likely to be the victims of bullying and violence than any other minority group in the USA. Be on the lookout for youth or young adults who may be doing & saying unkind things.  

Know the signs of suicide and depression. LGBT people are at much higher risk. It’d be a good idea for youth leaders to have some training in this.

Encourage them to pray and ask if God loves them as they are 

Especially before or after lessons about marriage, say something like “I know there are people in this ward who cannot be married because of same-sex attraction or other reasons. I love you, and the Lord has a plan for you.”

Know that studies show that being active in the LDS church is often detrimental to the mental health and quality of life for LGBT people. For a person’s well-being, they may decide they need a break. Make sure they know they’re welcome to come back.

I then blurted out, "I'm gay, just in case anyone didn't know." A counselor in the stake presidency said, "Duh, we all know you're a happy guy."

Another bishop shared that he has a child who recently came out as trans and is in their first semester of college. This child hasn't fully discussed this with the family but is using this time away to experiment with what feels right to them. He loves this child and wants them to be their best and to be comfortable with themselves and it's taking some adjustments for him to understand and change his dreams for them.

Then my bishop shared that I had given him the same 10 suggestions when he was first called and he feels it has helped him be successful as a bishop to queer youth. He shared an incident that happened recently which involved a young women leader overhearing part of a conversation between two teens. He didn't share the specifics of the discussion other than it was about being gay. The leader was uncomfortable with what she heard and spoke about it at ward council.

Another bishop commented, "Oh yes, ward council, that's the right place to discuss that" as he rolled his eyes.

The stake president said a better approach would've been for the leader to ask the girls to share more with her, to be open to a conversation with them, rather than run to the ward council to share how shocked and uncomfortable she was.

I thought it was a good discussion even though I wound up saying very little. I had prepared some thoughts ahead of time that I could use as reference, and I sent them by email to the bishops (see below).

————————————————————

There are queer individuals who attend our congregations, many of whom aren't out to everyone, and so you speak to queer people even if you don't know who they are.

We are children of God, we deserve to hear good news, to have hope, to feel loved. Unfortunately that doesn’t happen often enough in church settings. People who interacted with Christ left feeling uplifted and that would be a good goal for us.

In 2019, the former stake president said this in Bishops' Council: LGBT individuals are some of the most patient people you’ll ever meet. They’ve heard more hurtful words than most any of us will hear in our entire lifetime. That doesn’t mean they’re immune to the words. There are LGBT members who come to church and they deserve to hear good words, to be welcomed and loved and be strengthened in the gospel.

Handbook 38.6.15 The Church encourages families and members to reach out with sensitivity, love, and respect to persons who are attracted to others of the same sex. The Church also promotes understanding in society at large that reflects its teachings about kindness, inclusiveness, love for others, and respect for all human beings.

Handbook 38.6.23 Transgender individuals face complex challenges. Members and nonmembers who identify as transgender—and their family and friends—should be treated with sensitivity, kindness, compassion, and an abundance of Christlike love. All are welcome to attend sacrament meeting, other Sunday meetings, and social events of the Church

When my bishop was first called, a member of the ward asked me if I thought the new bishop would be safe to meet with and share his orientation. I sent the bishop an email to find out and received this beautiful response:

David, Thank you for sharing this with me. I hope that the Spirit can guide me to treat LBGTQ members and investigators with love and respect. I’m not sure what your journey has been, but I would guess that it has included anguish, heartbreak and innumerable unintentional and even some intentional wounds. As far as I am aware, I am the only person called to be a judge in the ward, and I believe that office is to help everyone come to Christ, not send any away. I may not fully appreciate how or which traditions and traditional phrases may carry messages of exclusion, but I am open to learning a better way. I hope that I can “make the pathway bright” for LBGTQ members and friends. In hope, Bishop

One of the scariest parts of coming out is not knowing how the other person will respond. The previous stake president at a youth fireside shared how he would react if a person met with him and shared that they are LGBTQ.

I would thank you for trusting me enough to share this with me.

If you're willing, I'd like for you to share with me some about your journey up to this point.

I would offer to give you a blessing.

Regardless of whether you accepted or declined the offer of a blessing, I'm a hugger so I'd ask if I can give you a hug.

I'd invite you to come see me again when you want to talk some more.

Questions many LGBTQ+ members would welcome from their church leaders (these come from the fourth option)

What does being LGBTQIA+ mean for you at this time?

What has been difficult about being an LGBTQIA+ member of the church? What's been fulfilling?

What do you want your future to look like?

What do you believe or want to believe?

What revelation have you received, if any, about your path in life?

What's on your mind related to your sexuality or gender identity and faith?

How has being queer influenced your relationship with Christ?

How can we best support you?

Do you feel safe in our congregation? What can we do to make it safer?

Has anyone said or done anything to make you feel unwanted in the ward?

From what you've observed so far, how can we improve as a ward?

How would you like to be involved in the ward?

What callings would you feel comfortable with?

What skills would you like to use to contribute to our ward? 

What else would you like me to know?

Things ward & stake leaders can do (also from the fourth option)

Pray for guidance on how to make your ward safer and more inclusive for LGBTQIA+ members (out or not)

Call LGBTQIA+ members to callings in a range of auxiliaries

Invite LGBTQIA+ members to share their experiences in fifth Sunday lessons, firesides, ward councils meetings, etc

Encourage your stake to call an LGBTQ fellowship coordinator

Speak to LGBTQIA+ members over the pulpit and in lessons (move away from the "use vs. them" mentality; show that we're part of every ward, out or not)

Include LGBTQIA+ members in discussions about ministering and and outreach

Regularly check in with us to see if anyone is making us feel unsafe

Get to know us personally

Wear a rainbow pin or similar thing to indicate that you're an ally

Speak in support of LGBTQIA+ people and help others remember that we are children of God

Ask your ward or stake to start a support group for LGBTQIA+ members, families, and allies (volunteer to help if possible)

Pray for guidance on how to best minister to LGBTQIA+ individuals in your ward

Pray for God to reveal more about His plan for His LGBTQIA+ children

Correct people when they say uninformed or hateful things

Listen to our stories, sit in our pain, celebrate our joy

Studies show that on average gay men (and I suspect this is true of queer people in general) are more creative, have higher IQ’s and higher emotional intelligence, have more compassion and are more cooperative and have less hostility. Of course someone with these qualities is going to bless the lives around them.

We have a stake group for LGBTQ members, and their family, friends and allies, which meets about every other month. For more information, contact me.

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 121 - Fretting and Regretting

It's been a few days and Ophelia has had time to process what happened between her and Drew and Moses.

Xander has been great at listening and offering reassurance, but also not allowing herself to feel as though they're trying to abandon her. Deep down, she knows he's right.

Ophelia: I guess it felt so sudden, and like they were ganging up on me… but now that I'm thinking straight, I know they'd never do that. I acted like such a brat, though, I don't think they'll forgive me.

Xander: I've done dumber shit to both of them. Trust me, they will.

Ophelia decides to give Moses a call to apologize… but it goes straight to voicemail.

Ophelia: He always picks up…

Xander: Maybe he's busy with the baby.

Ophelia: Maybe…

She's about to call Drew when she gets a call from Anna Huff of all people. Despite how much she wants to ghost her, she picks up.

Anna: Ophelia, hello!

Ophelia: Hi. What's up?

Anna: I hate to bother you but I have a favor to ask.

Anna: Our church is going on a mission trip to build homes for the needy in Selvadorada.

Ophelia: Isn't that a destination world? People don't actually live there.

Anna: Regardless, we just found out toddlers can't come for liability reasons. Could Jaden stay with your family?

After checking with Xander, Ophelia goes back to her call.

Ophelia: Sure. Jaden's always welcome here.

Anna: Bless you! Are you doing alright? You sound a little down.

Anna is the last person Ophelia wants to talk to about her life, but she isolated her two closest friends.

Ophelia: Oh, it's just some personal stuff I'm going through. I'll be fine.

Anna: Ah. I'll pray for you.

She can tell Anna doesn't mean it in a judgmental way for once.

Ophelia: Thanks. I appreciate it.

She gets the details of the day Jaden will be dropped off and hangs up.

When Xander goes to check on Lulu, Ophelia gives herself a pep talk.

Ophelia: Okay, we let our insecurities get the best of us. Your friends are allowed to pursue what they want, even if it means you're not together all the time anymore. Time to woman up and apologize.

She goes outside to clear her head, only to find-

Ophelia: Drew?

Ophelia: Hey. Look, I know it's been a few days. Moses said you might need some space but I can't take it anymore. I'm sorry about how we handled bringing the topic up. We kind of just sprung it on you.

Drew: Before you joined, playing in Hector's band was just a gig Moses got me, but then you came along and we really made something magical. I've loved every second of being in The Main Squeeze, but there's a lot of other stuff I want to do too, y'know?

Ophelia: Yeah, I get it.

Ophelia: I'm sorry for how I reacted. You're totally allowed to go after what you want. Maybe I need to shake things up too. You guys mean the world to me, and I don't know, I think I took you both wanting to leave the band as wanting to leave… me.

Drew: No way, kid. You're stuck with us for life. Instead of band practice, we can just meet up for coffee and you two can talk about your babies and what color their poop is while I do cool childless shit, like skateboard and say forbidden words.

Ophelia: Sounds like a plan.

As glad as Ophelia is to have made up with Drew, there's still someone she needs to apologize to.

Ophelia: I have to talk to Moses. I tried calling him this morning, but he didn't answer.

Drew: Weird, I couldn't reach him either. Maybe Shea drooled on his phone and it broke.

They arrive at Moses' house, hoping they've caught him at a good time. They can hear wailing all the way down by the front door, so probably not.

Drew: Moses? This a bad time? Ophelia and I-

Moses shouts at them over the screaming baby.

Moses: Thank Watcher, help me!

Ophelia's the first to reach the nursery. Moses is still in his pajamas and looks like he's gotten maybe an hour of sleep in the past 24 hours. She asks Drew to make a pot of coffee while she talks to their friend.

Ophelia: Hard day?

Moses: I'm the worst father ever.

Shea continues to sob in her crib.

Moses: I can't get her to stop crying! I've tried bloody everything! She's not hungry, she's doesn't need a change, she doesn't want to cuddle. She's going to get taken away because I can't do my damn job!

Ophelia: Moses! Breathe!

Ophelia: You're exhausted and you're at your wit's end. I get it. Let me try something while you take a minute to collect yourself.

Moses: O-Okay.

He has so much he wants to tell her but it's hard to have a serious conversation when your baby's screaming her head off.

Ophelia thinks she knows what that cry means. She takes the wailing infant in her arms.

Ophelia: Hello there, sweetie. Let's give this a shot.

She gives Shea a few firm pats on the back, and the cries cease, followed by a big burp.

Shea sighs in relief, and so do the adults in the room.

Ophelia: There we go. I bet all that gas was hurting your tummy, hmm?

Moses has never loved the sound of silence more!

Ophelia: Did all that crying wear you out? I know your papa probably needs a nap too, but let's get you settled in first.

She spins Shea into her pajamas and settles her in her crib to rest.

Moses: You're amazing! Thank you.

Ophelia: I'm level 6 parenting. You pick up on this kind of stuff.

Moses: Listen, I'm sorry about the other day. I was trying to explain and misspoke. You're a great mum. Clearly I can't talk on anyone's parenting since I'm failing at it.

Ophelia: Moses, you're not failing, you're new. You think I knew everything there was to know when Gemma was born? No way. There's still plenty I don't know… Like how to properly react to your bandmates wanting to go different directions in life.

Moses: I shouldn't have just blurted it out at a social setting. We should have had some kind of band meeting or something so you'd be in the right mindset.

Ophelia: I still shouldn't have snapped at you like I did. Can we just put this behind us?

Moses: I'd love that.

Even though all is forgiven, there's one thing they have to acknowledge.

Ophelia: So, the band… it's really over, isn't it?

Moses: Maybe not forever… But I really want to give this a fair shake… Even if it means giving up one of the best things to ever happen to me.

Ophelia tearfully embraces Moses.

Ophelia: We're not allowed to not be in each other's lives, though, okay? Drew promised, you have to too.

Moses: Of course. Don't you start crying, you'll get me crying!

Ophelia pulls away, sniffling.

Ophelia: Okay, no tears. This isn't an end, just a new beginning. Who knows what wacky hijinks I'll get up to!

Moses: I'm sure the Watcher has something amazing planned for you.

Drew has some tacos planned, from the smell of it. Dig in, gang!

And so, on their last official day as a band, Ophelia, Drew and Moses sit down and talk about their futures. Ophelia's not quite sure what hers will look like just yet, but whether they're a band or a group of friends, she knows that wherever life leads her, she won't be alone.

[midnightraine131]

Pairing: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart

Tags: Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Teenage Love, Awkward First Times, Slow Burn, POV Armin Arlert, Bottom Armin Arlert, Wet Dreams

Warning: R18 contains sensitive topics

Summary: They say the most judgmental people are those who attend church on Sundays.

Despite growing up in a Christian household, Armin Arlert felt overburdened by the pile of ministry activities assigned to him. So he made a pact with himself to never follow in his father's footsteps and become a pastor. With the goal of saving enough money to persuade his parents to let him move to another state after high school, he started accepting paid essay projects in school in secret.

Everything in Armin's busy life seemed manageable until he met Annie Leonhart, a Californian girl whose parents had moved her against her will to Vermont. Upon discovering Armin's secret business, Annie approached him with a unique request- to write love letters for a long-distance lover. To craft the perfect love letters, she would help Armin embark on a journey of firsts— his first kiss, first hug, first date, and first everything in a relationship.thing in a relationship.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Four pairs of eyes glanced at each other. No words had been spoken for the past ten minutes since Eren climbed up to Armin’s room.

The blond was racking his brain to find a better word to explain their situation in the room to his best friends, without them misconstruing it. At some point, the taller boy couldn't hold it anymore. He dropped his knapsack and the one big bag of potato chips hanging on his right hand to the floor. He gestured to Armin, instructing, “To the bathroom—now, young man!”

Armin quickly stood up from the bed, but as soon as he started to walk, Eren took his hand and dragged him inside the bathroom. Mikasa followed and locked the bathroom door behind them, leaving Annie alone standing in the middle of the bedroom, bewildered.

“Armin, what the fuck?” Eren asked, pinning his friend against the wall. The blond winced as he hit the wall.

“Eren, don’t be too harsh on him. He’s still hurt,” Mikasa reminded him of Armin’s injury, to which the turquoise-eyed boy raised his hand as a gesture for Mikasa not to worry.

Armin sighed, “I told you. Nothing is going on between me and Annie.”

“Armin, your mom is literally in the kitchen, and you have a girl staying in your room. What will you do if she finds out?” Mikasa interrogated.

“She won’t find out,” Armin replied, his brows knitting together.

Eren’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Armin knew he couldn’t get away too easily. “I’m sure you are aware of her reputation. Don’t tell me you lost your V-card to her?”

“Oh, come on!” Armin threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I know she’s been staying with me for quite a while now, but she’s a good person. She actually saved my life.”

“What do you mean?” Mikasa asked, totally worried about their friend.

Armin opened his mouth to tell them what happened last night but got interrupted when they heard Annie knock from the other side of the door. Mikasa opened the door behind them, revealing Annie just standing there with her bag on her shoulder. “Y’know what, I must go. I don’t really have plans to stay over. I just came by to check on your friend.” She turned to leave, but Armin noticed she carried a bigger backpack this time. He assumed she brought her own pajamas so she didn’t need to borrow his. Confident in his assumptions, he never failed to catch her lying.

Mikasa and Eren looked at each other, feeling bad for being rude to her. Eren was the first one to talk, “Hey Annie, if you really want to stay tonight, it’s okay. I will just sleep on the carpet.”

Armin turned to him in disbelief, “Eren?”

Mikasa held his shoulder and spoke loud enough for Annie to hear, “We promise we won’t tell anybody about this. Trust us.” Armin trusts his best friends more than anyone in this world, so when Mikasa assured him, he was totally convinced. “You heard them, Annie. Please stay,” Armin tried to convince her. She turned to him to see a pair of begging big blue eyes.

Twenty minutes had passed, and they had settled on Armin’s bed, talking about the incident. Eren spoke most of the time, telling Annie what happened in school, which made Annie curse at Historia. Armin told her not to blame her since it was his fault to begin with. He noticed Annie was silent for a moment, as if she was sunk deep into her thoughts.

“Annie…”

“You need that money, right?” Annie asked out of the blue.

Technically, yes. Armin had already prepared a two-year financial plan, and it would be a hard setback to lose four hundred dollars. Annie seemed to understand the answer before Armin could reply. “Alright,” she stood up and took her pajamas out of her bag. “I’ll sign up for the camp.”

“Annie, you don’t have to. I can earn that money back,” Armin protested. It was not his intention to drag someone into his mess just because he made a mistake.

“Not until you kill yourself overworking. My decision is final. I’m going to the camp with you.” She glanced at him, too cold for Eren’s and Mikasa’s taste, but Armin understood that deep inside her heart, she cared about him.

Before Annie could enter the bath, Mikasa spoke up. “I’ll sign up too.”

“Mikasa!” Eren and Armin called out in unison. Green eyes sparkled and the blue ones were hopeful.

“Tomorrow, we have to go shopping, Annie. I can’t afford for the church people to assume that Armin’s friends are all composed of a witch and—” Mikasa purposely cut what she was about to say.

“—a whore, I know. I finish my shift after five,” Annie continued.

“It’s settled then!” Eren stretched his arms, yawning. “Tomorrow, I will help to cover Mikasa’s shift while they go shopping.”

“Eren, do you know how the counter works?” Armin asked, totally having doubts about his best friend's working etiquette.

“You are working with me, right?” Without asking, Eren set himself on the foot of the bed and dozed off. Armin rolled his eyes, knowing he would have a long day tomorrow at work. But it’s better than working alone anyway. So he replied, “Yeah.”

Mikasa lay on the mattress, on Armin’s left side. As soon as her head settled on the soft pillow, her eyes closed and drifted to sleep. It was obvious on her face how exhausted she had been today from taking care of him. Armin brushed his palm on top of her crown and whispered, “Thank you for today, Mikasa.”

Armin heard Annie emerge from the bathroom; she had changed into her pajamas, and her nape was still moist from the shower. She settled herself on Armin’s right side. When he lay down, he turned to face her, and she took his hand, placing it under her cheek as if it were part of the pillow.

“How can you be so careless?” she asked, trying to stay awake but her eyelids were slowly closing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and smiled at her before falling asleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Armin heard a loud thud that woke him up. He craned his neck to check what was going on. Eren, who used to be sleeping at the foot of the bed, had moved to Mikasa’s side to cuddle her. Now, four teenagers awkwardly squeezed into a queen-sized bed. When Armin looked at his right side, it was Annie who had fallen off the bed. He heard her groan “Ouch,” but she was too tired to stand on her feet, so she just resumed her sleep on the carpet.

Armin took his pillow and a new blanket from the cabinet before lying next to Annie on the carpet, carefully placing the pillow under her head, waking her up a bit. Her beautiful eyes opened slightly, her pale blue irises glanced at him. Armin didn’t move, scared that he might further disturb her sleep, but instead, Annie threw her arms and legs around him, probably mistaking him for a bolster. He felt something soft underneath her clothes. Realizing she wasn’t even wearing a bra when going to bed, Armin wasn’t sure, but his feelings were torn between "Lord, I don’t deserve this, but thank you for the blessings" and "Oh dear Holy Spirit, please save me."

It took Armin a while to calm whatever he felt down south; he didn’t even want to think about it. Annie stayed over with good intentions and not for anything else. She faced enough scrutiny outside of this room, and he didn’t want her to feel the same when they were together. She didn’t deserve it just because she wanted to be herself and wear the clothes she wanted. He was wrong before. Girls like Annie just need acceptance from other people and not to be told what to do.

And it’s okay to be friends with other girls like her without feeling other things, just like his friendship with Mikasa.

It’s alright. He feels safe with Annie, and he does the same for her. They had become each other’s safe haven ever since the night she first snuck into his room.

Armin couldn’t tell what time he fell asleep, but not too long after, Annie tapped his shoulder to wake him up. “Armin, get up. I will help you change the bandage on your arm. You need to prepare to go to school soon.” She whispered, and he followed suit.

As soon as they entered the bathroom, Annie kicked down the toilet cover and cursed at whoever had used it and left it open. She then asked Armin to sit there. With eyes half open, Armin watched as she prepared the plasters the doctor provided for him a day before. She was already changed into her misty rose-colored scrubs suit, fully ready for work, but for Armin, it felt more like he was in the hospital with a private nurse taking care of him.

Annie noticed him staring at her clothes and guessed he was curious about why she was up early. “Hange has scheduled an operation at nine. I have to be at the clinic an hour before to prepare the operating room. She’ll pay me overtime, so I agreed,” she answered without him asking.

She crouched on the floor and held out her hand, “Let me see your arm.” Armin hesitated, gripping tightly on his arm. He was not used to getting hurt since his parents protected him too much as a little kid, to the extent that they didn’t allow him to play outside the house. So Armin could only count on his fingers the events he got serious injuries. Armin also knew the first replacement of the bandages hurt the most because the gauze still stuck into the clotted blood; one wrong pull and the wound would bleed again.

“Trust me, I’m more trained in humans than animals.” She gestured to take his hand, and he gave in eventually. Slowly she peeled the bandages off from his wrist up to his elbows and threw them in the nearby bin. She then proceeded to pull the first gauze, earning a wince from him, but she didn’t care as she continued peeling off the gauze. When it was already too much for him, he suddenly tugged his arm away from her. His face reddened, and a tear threatened to leak from the corner of his eye. Annie sighed, “You have a terribly low pain tolerance.”

“It’s really painful, Annie,” he cried. They spent a good five-minute staring contest before Annie checked the time on her wristwatch. It’s fifteen minutes before seven; it's just a matter of minutes before his mother climbs up to his bedroom to call them for breakfast. She carefully took his arms again and said, “Look away and pinch your other arm as hard as you can so it divides the pain.” Without any other choice, Armin followed her instructions. At least Annie is more considerate than the doctor who took care of his wound yesterday. Before he knew it, all the gauze was already dumped in the bin. True to her word, it was less painful when you pinch yourself. If Armin had known that technique before, his life would’ve been easier. However, it left a small portion of bruises on his other arm. He pinched himself too hard.

Annie used wet wipes to remove the glue stains around the wounds, then she asked Armin to lean in the bathtub so she could rinse the wound in the shower at the right temperature. While letting his arm dry with a towel, she prepared a cotton pad soaked in saline solution. Armin watched her face as she slowly dabbed the pad on his wounds. It didn’t hurt anymore, but the cold effect of the solution made him a little uncomfortable. Then to finish the procedure, she covered his wound with new plasters. She turned his arm to each side to check if the wound was properly sealed before she raised to her feet and tapped the tip of his nose twice. “Good job, tiger.”

Armin watched as Annie cleaned the mess on the sink. “It’s still too early to leave, Annie,” he said, standing up. He felt a bit giddy but managed to steady his balance.

“Yeah, but I have to grab coffee on the way. Coffee shops are usually crowded at this hour,” she replied, stepping out of the bathroom. She grabbed her bag from the foot of the bed and slid its straps to her shoulders.

He rushed after her, “If that is the case, then I will make you coffee every day so you won’t have to leave early for coffee shops.”

“You okay with that?” she turned to him before realizing, “Oh yeah, you make coffees for a living.”

“It’s just a part-time job, and it’s not like Starbucks-level coffee, but I can make a decent one.”

“I bet your coffee is better than Starfucks.” She walked towards the window, opened the glass panels, and slid herself out of his room. “I’ll see you again tonight.”

“Thank you, Annie.” He stood by the window, watching her climb down from the roof to the tree branches to jump onto the streets. He watched until her figure disappeared into the distance.

As if on cue, his mom suddenly opened his door, startling him. “Kids, time for breakfast!”

Being reminded that his best friends were cuddling the last time he paid attention to them, he looked back toward his bed. For some reason, Eren is back at the foot of the bed, sleeping soundly while Mikasa has just woken up, her hair disheveled as she shifted herself to a sitting position, scratching her left eye. Armin let out a sigh of relief.

His mom shot him a questioning look. “Honey, are you okay?” She walked toward him and pulled him into a hug like a five-year-old.

“Mom, I’m fine, and my friends are here. Can you just let me go?” He protested, his face buried in the corner of his mom’s neck. Sometimes he hates being treated like a kid.

His mother ignored him, dragging him out of the room like a ragdoll. “Mikasa, wake Eren up now before the breakfast gets cold.” He heard Mikasa respond with a yes to his mother before going down the stairs. His two friends followed behind.

His father was already sitting at the dining table, sipping his coffee as he scrolled down to his iPad. The teenagers selected their seats and settled, with Eren still in a dreamy daze. His mother served each plate with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. She then prepared each batch of bread in the toaster. Mikasa took a carton of milk to fill their glasses.

“How’s your wound, Armin? Who changed the bandages?” his father asked, which caught him off guard for a minute. He realized he forgot to prepare a spiel to explain to his parents his newly cleaned arm.

Mikasa, noticing her friend was in crisis, she butted in, “I helped him clean his wound earlier, but we realized we woke up too early so we went back to bed.”

“Huh? Mikasa, you know how to— ouch!” Mikasa kicked Eren’s foot under the table. Armin felt like his soul almost left his body when his parents glanced at each other.

Realizing his best friends wouldn’t be able to salvage the situation any longer, he spoke, “Mikasa watched a bunch of tutorials on YouTube last night. Remember?”

“Uh- yeah? Yeah, I remember now. That’s right,” Eren replied, nodding. Mikasa glaring at him to keep his mouth shut.

Good thing, his father didn’t press anymore; instead, he decided to change the topic. “Anyway, next week, my cell group —which includes Eren and Mikasa’s parents— will be here for dinner, and we want you guys to join us. You have to set that on your schedule. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The teenagers responded simultaneously as they dug into their plates.

His mom placed the tray of toasted bread on the center of the dining table. “Also, Pastor Dreyse just got back here in Woodstock and his family will be coming too, so, Armin…” she emphasized his name to get his attention. “Whatever you have to do next Friday night, cancel it.”

Armin narrowed his eyes as he chewed on the bacon, “Mom, is this AruHitch phase of yours still ongoing?” he asked, horrified.

Eren suppressed a laugh but failed, “The fact that you already have a ship name made it seem official.”

Armin rolled his eyes at his best friend.

“Ship name? I’m afraid I’m not following these new terms.” His father butted in, totally confused.

“It’s like combining two names in one. We usually use this for characters in a series if we want them to be together romantically,” Mikasa explained, gesturing her hands like she was giving a lecture at a university. “Soon you will understand, pops.”

Armin’s father winced at the word pops. To Armin’s relief, they seemed to forget about the teasing part and finished their breakfast. Armin kissed his dad and mom goodbye before starting his day.

He wore a long-sleeved sweater to cover his arm. Luckily, only a few students in school are aware of the incident. Armin tends to keep quiet about it to avoid issues against Historia. During lunch break, Armin walked past Historia’s locker, but she wasn’t there. Armin starts to believe she didn’t come to school today. He wanted to send her a text message, but Mikasa was against the idea and suggested it was better to give her some space for a while. The heavy burden in his chest dragged on as the hours passed by. Armin had busied himself for some distraction so he wouldn’t think about it too much. He had done his assignments and essays in between breaks. His shift with his best friend wasn’t too bad either, but he noticed that there were more customers today in the shop than usual. Most of them are middle school girls. He assumes it is because of Eren and his growing popularity with the girls. Armin couldn’t deny how much Eren’s look improved over the years. He was more concerned about what to wear for the day and he’s up-to-date with the current fashion trend. But of course, with Mikasa’s influence, his fashion is more goth or pop rock-inspired, black t-shirts, metal studs, big belts, and fake hoop earrings around the helix of his ears, just like Annie’s but hers are genuinely pierced.

Armin glanced at his reflection from the display cabinet. He has had the same hairstyle since he was five. Full bangs that usually poke his eyelashes when he blinks, golden strands that just end below his jaw. Growing up, Armin used to be bullied because he looked too feminine and frail for a boy. Now that he pays attention to himself, he can tell he still looks like a girl until now and his voice didn’t help either. Most of the boys around the school had outgrown him, and their voices start to boom a bit deeper. Some of the church aunties tell him not to worry about his looks; he probably was one of those rare cases of a late bloomer. Armin sighed. His puberty was long overdue, no wonder no girls showed interest in him.

His shift ended after seven. Both boys handed over the cashier to Sasha, who was scheduled to work in the closing shift. Eren was picked up by his father while Armin separated from his best friend to meet up with Hitch for dinner.

Hitch is Armin’s longest friend— longer than Eren and Mikasa. She was born in a Christian family too, just like him; her parents are both Pastors. The Arlerts and the Dreyses co-founded the community church in Woodstock. However, Pastor Dreyse frequently traveled around Asia for biblical missions while Pastor Arlert stayed in Woodstock to preach and run the church.

Being born in the same year, same environment, and same upbringing, Hitch has become like an older sister to Armin. If only she never had beef with Mikasa, she could’ve been included in Eren’s circle of best friends.

After ten minutes of bantering and tugging each other on the streets about which restaurants to eat at, both of them agreed to settle on DIY hotpot at Armin’s house. They passed by the grocery store to pick up some mushrooms and vegetables. Armin remembered his mom storing leftover beef slices in the fridge, while Hitch kept taking packs of crab sticks, tau kee, and some type of bean curd he couldn’t name anymore. Armin took an extra trip to the coffee aisle, taking a pack of espresso roast coffee beans and a carton of ready-to-froth milk. Armin was sure his dad kept a French press somewhere in the kitchen cupboard. After they had paid at the self-service counter, each of their hands carried a bag of groceries as they walked home. Armin intentionally didn’t mention his arm. Knowing Hitch, once she finds out about the incident, there is a huge chance she’d storm in at Historia's place for a fight. She was worse than Mikasa. Armin learned the hard way.

Hitch crouched at one of the cupboards and took the single induction that had been tucked away behind the kitchenware, as if she knew every inch of this house. Armin prepared the pot before proceeding to wash and chop the vegetables. He took the electric kettle, filled it full with water, and left it on until it boiled. He grabbed the chopping board with veggies and moved across from Hitch on the island counter as she adjusted the heat on the induction before putting in beef flanks and vermicelli noodles. Her hands propped her chin up while she stirred the soup idly.

“Armin, you know you can’t be too greedy,” Hitch deadpanned, watching Armin’s chopsticks take another bundle of enoki mushrooms and slowly laying them on top of the boiling tomato soup.

“If you don’t like mushrooms, then I will eat them all,” Armin said, raising his small bowl to fill it with soup. He was leaning on the counter, ignoring the highchair on his side. “It doesn’t matter if I eat a little much; I will still maintain my abs, though.” He raised the hem of his shirt to show his still well-toned abs.

“Right, those extra calories are being trapped in your cheeks instead,” Hitch retorted, using her chopsticks to push the mushrooms aside to make space for her bean curd.

“Don’t fat-shame my cheeks.”

“You started it.”

“Because you called me greedy.”

Hitch's eyebrow shot up, catching the smug expression on his face before shrugging it off. She took her bowl and filled it with tomato soup and bean curds. She busied herself with her iPad, looking through the worship songs they had to practice for the camp.

The electric kettle automatically clicked off, a sign that the boiling water was ready. Armin took the pack of espresso roast and measured the ratio before placing the grounds in the French press and filling it up with measured water. He took a few careful stirs before covering the cylinder with its lid. He returned to their meal as he waited for the coffee to steep. The smell of coffee wafted around the kitchen, making Hitch crave a cup even if it was already a little late in the night. Armin noticed her watching him make coffee.

“Why are you making coffee at this hour?” she asked.

Armin hummed before answering, “Just practicing.”

“What? Are you going to start working as a barista at Kiyomi’s shop too?”

“No.”

“Then for what?”

Armin squinted his eyes, knowing he couldn’t get away too easily under her scrutiny. “Do you want coffee?”

“Of course, but you haven’t answered my question.”

Dodging the question, Armin refocused his attention back to the French press. He used his palm to press the plunger down, carefully preventing the grounds from escaping into the coffee.

“So, uhm, have you practiced our song for the camp?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“How’s Pastor Dreyse? I heard he’s back from Singapore.” Armin took the frother to prepare the milk.

“You haven’t answered my question, Arlert.” Hitch crossed her arms, a sign that it was the end of the stretch of her patience.

Armin sighed, “Fine, I’m making it for—” he got interrupted by a sudden loud thud from his room. Horror struck across his face, realizing Annie should be back from shopping. He glanced at the clock. Shoot! It’s already a quarter past eight. It is definitely Annie in his room.

Hitch flinched in shock. Her face questioning Armin, “Aren’t we alone in this house? Did someone break into your room?” She stood up, suddenly shifting to protective older sister mode instinct.

“Oh, Hitch! It’s— it’s nothing?” he dashed around to Hitch's side to stop her from walking up the stairs.

“What do you mean? What if someone wants to kill us?”

“Hitch, you are just being paranoid. It’s just— a ghost?” Armin winced after letting out those words; he wasn’t this bad at lying, but panic had taken over his mind, scared of what would happen if Hitch found out about Annie. There was a huge chance his mother would find out about his secret.

Hitch took a baseball bat from behind the storage room door and silently stepped onto the staircase. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way this house is haunted. There is definitely someone up there.”

Armin moved in front of her to block her way, “A poltergeist?”

She shook her head, tightening her grip on the baseball bat. Before Armin knew it, Hitch was already in front of his bedroom door. She was always fast; never in his life did he beat her in a chase. Hitch placed her ear on the door, and when she heard silence, she kicked the door open. Armin prayed so hard for Annie to leave or hide somewhere.

They both entered the room; there was no sign of anyone there but the small white kitten in the middle of Armin’s bed, looking back at them. The kitten tilted its head slightly before jumping onto the floor and ran towards Armin’s feet to brush its tail. Armin sighed in relief as he glanced at the small cage and then at the cat. Did Annie release the kitten before they got into his room? Then if so, where is she?

Hitch turned to him; she was as confused as he was. “Weird. This room even smells like girl’s perfume.” She walked towards the bathroom and forcefully pushed the door open; there wasn’t anyone in there. Then she went to check his closet.

Armin’s eyebrows creased, “I have a feeling that I need to demand a search warrant.” He crossed his arms, masking his nervousness behind a smug expression.

Failing to see anyone in his room, Hitch finally gave up on searching but shot him a warning. She pointed her forefinger at his chest, “You know very well you can’t hide anything from me. I have known you since we were infants. We grew up together in the same environment and the same situation, so I know when you are hiding something. You are like an extension of my body.”

“Oh, please, Hitch. Don’t make it sound weird,” he grunted; his shoulders slumped as he sighed before snatching the bat from her hands. His right arm wrapped around hers as he led her out of the bedroom. “I told you, you’re just being paranoid.” Armin glanced back inside his room before shutting the door closed. He got a glimpse of Annie’s arms emerging from under his bed, taking the kitten from the floor to hide with her. So that’s where she hid herself. It was a relief for both of them that Hitch didn’t think of checking underneath the bed.

Armin placed his head on Hitch’s shoulder as they headed down the staircase. Hitch moved her head to rest on his crown. “You know you are a bitch sometimes.” She started.

“Oh? Why am I the bitch this time?”

“Don’t you think I didn’t know you were the one who ratted me out to my mother about the boy I was seeing? Now everyone in school thinks I ghosted him.”

“I told you he’s not good for you.”

“Is it because he wasn’t a Christian?”

“No. But that guy keeps telling everyone in school who he slept with.” He raised his head and gasped. “Don’t tell me…”

“Shut up! I’m still a virgin— or else mom would shave my head off.” She defended herself before falling silent.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked worriedly.

“There’s a question in my head that I keep thinking about lately—”

“Shoot.”

“Armin.” Hitch pulled him down to sit on the tread, looking at him directly in his eyes. Emerald green eyes lingered on his cobalt blue. “What if one day you met someone who isn’t a Christian and fell in love with her? Would you convince her to be baptized?”

It took a whole good ten minutes of staring contest; Armin swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat, but he was the first one to drop their gaze, looking down at the symmetrical angle of the stairs. Shadows drew illusions through the warm lights coming from the living room, making it seem they were far away from the ground. His mind sought an answer. As a Christian, he knew the exact verses by heart to answer this question correctly, but the back of his head told him to answer honestly. He almost brushed the latter idea off.

“Hitch, you know the answer in the Second Corinthians chapter six verses fourteen to sixteen when Paul said…”

The teenagers cited in unison, Hitch sighing, dejected, “Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness? What harmony is there between Christ and Belial? Or what does a believer have in common with an unbeliever? What agreement is there between the temple of God and idols?”

“In short, we as Christians shouldn’t form a bond with unbelievers because it would pull us away from Him.” He trailed off, pointing up his forefinger. “We must influence unbelievers without them influencing us.”

“I know you would answer that.” Hitch hugged her knees, burying her face in the curtains of ash-brown strands.

Armin thought for a second when suddenly his mind pictured him being with Annie. He didn’t understand why, of all the people in the world, it was Annie who he would think of. He considered giving away his honest answer before he spoke again. “That was my answer if you would ask me as a Youth leader. But if I would answer as an extension of your body—” he used his finger to air quote. “I would say, I don’t want to push those teachings that the church engraved in me as a kid onto my future partner— if she was hesitant to accept that.”

Armin expected Hitch to laugh at his stupid, honest answer, but unexpectedly, she remains silent. Her eyes landed on the same symmetrical angle of the staircase, the same spot he was gazing at a few seconds ago. There was just comfortable silence and two teenagers and increasing warm lights from downstairs. Hitch tucked her hair behind her ears while her mind digested his answer.

“Are you thinking of someone else?” asked Armin, moving closer to her to whisper. Although they are alone in the house, he feels the need to talk softly to his friend.

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Thanks.” She jests, her voice almost just came out airy.

“Do I know this guy?” he pressed further; this time less serious.

“No! no! I’m not thinking of some stupid guy!”

“Stupid guy?” Armin paused to rack his brain for the moments Hitch mentioned hundreds of boy names she had a crush on, he archived a list in the small corner of his mind just in case he needed to blackmail her in the future when one name had clicked the bulb on, “Do you mean Marlowe Freu—” Armin was interrupted by a sudden impact, pinning him to the wall. Hitch's hands covered almost half of his face. “Let go of me! I can’t breathe!” he muffled behind her palms.

“Marlowe is just my partner in literature, and he is stupid for doing most of the job! And he has a stupid haircut! Jeez!” Hitch flushed, pressing her weight on him. “If I’ve known better, you were thinking of other girls too, right? Who is it?”

Armin shook his head but still managed to chuckle at the thought of catching Hitch off guard despite her weight pressing on him.

“Honey, we’re home— oh?” Armin’s mother called downstairs but was surprised at the sight of their position. Hitch was hovering above Armin while her legs spread wide on his stomach. Armin had his injured arm above his head so Hitch wouldn’t hurt him. Both faces are painted a shade of crimson. Hitch was embarrassed while Armin was suffering.

“What are you kids doing?” His father poked his head from the staircase before his face flashed the same surprised expression as his mom had.

“Hi! Pastor and Mrs. Arlert. Uhm— we were having dinner earlier and decided this was the right time to kill each other.” Hitch butted in, finally freeing Armin.

“Hi, Mom, Dad.” Armin acknowledges his parents awkwardly, shifting his body into a sitting position.

Both of his parents glanced at the kitchen island, the soup still simmering in the pot, and a hot coffee resting beside Hitch’s bowl before returning their gazes to them. Armin doesn’t want to think about what his parents are thinking about. The last thing Armin wanted was for his mother to tease him more about Hitch.

Dumbfounded, his mother just nodded, flashing an awkward smile. “I see.” Armin knows that face really well, and at this moment, he just wanted Hitch to strangle him to death rather than suffer from his mother’s teasing.

“You two spare each other for tonight. Let’s have dessert! Mrs. Braun baked some egg tarts for us.” His father offered, raising his other hand, holding a box of tarts.

“That looks good with my coffee.” Hitch skipped a few steps from the stairs to take the box, and Armin followed at a much slower pace, ignoring his mother’s glare from his peripheral vision.

All four of them sat on high chairs at the kitchen island to finish the hotpot Armin and Hitch cooked earlier, having casual updates about school and church. Armin secretly sneaked some tarts onto a separate plate for Annie later. The tarts were sweet and freshly baked. He was sure she’d like that.

After the pot and the box were empty, Hitch gulped the last drop of coffee from her mug before calling it a day. “Thank you, Lord God, for always blessing us with delicious meals.” She finished off her prayer before clapping her hands twice. His parents followed with an amen.

“Alright, thank you for your time tonight, Hitch. Let me drive you back home. I’m sure Mrs. Dreyse is already looking for you.” His father offered.

“Thanks, Pastor!” Hitch gathered all her things to shove them inside her tote bag before glancing at Armin, “Don’t forget to practice our set for the camp. If you mess up our praise and worship, you’ll owe me dinner!” she reminded for the nth time before walking on his mother’s side to kiss her on the cheek. “See you later, Mrs. Arlert.”

“Bye, Hitch.” His mother smiled, gathering their plates to place inside the dishwasher. Armin waved at Hitch before he jumped from his chair to help his mother with the dishes.

When they heard his father’s car roar on the street and the sound slowly faded into the distance, his mother broke the silence, “Hitch is a good girl, Armin.”

“Mom, please don’t get me started.” He sighed, uncapping the dispenser to place a dishwasher pod, and then he threw one inside before closing the machine. He ran the lightest cycle before leaving it to do its job. He reached out at the center of the kitchen island for the plate of tarts he saved for Annie before giving his mother a good night kiss.

“You will still eat in your bedroom?” his mother inquired, placing back clean plates into the cupboard.

“Yeah, midnight snack. Good night, mom, love you.” He kissed his mother on the cheek before rushing up the stairs.

“Good night, honey!” his mother answered back from the kitchen.

Armin slowly opened the door; the creaking sound caught Annie’s attention. She was now changed into her pajamas, her hair curled in different directions as if she just untied it from a tight bun. The kitten snuggled comfortably on her lap, occasionally flicking its tail on her thighs. She caressed the white fur, now cleaner and healthier than when he found the poor thing in the middle of the road.

He walked to her side of the bed, placed the plate on the bedside table, and sat near her feet. His eyes lingered on the kitten as it purred, its round back moving up and down with calm breaths. Armin wished to embrace this kind of peace forever.

“Those tarts are for you,” he started. The sudden shift in the bed’s balance from his weight awakened the kitten. It raised its head to look at him for a second before going back to sleep. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed at the kitten, which made Annie slightly curve her mouth into a smile.

“I already had dinner with Mikasa before I came here, but I wouldn’t say no to tarts,” she whispered. “They look nice.” Armin nodded, smiling as he watched her take a piece and push the tart into her mouth. She hummed in approval.

“So, how was your shopping with Mikasa?” Armin asked, crossing his legs and tucking his hands underneath his calves.

Annie snickered, “You didn’t tell me. Mikasa’s fashion sense sucks.”

Armin chuckled, “I think Mikasa just wanted to be safe for both of you. I know that’s not how you dress, but that’s how people in church look like.”

“I know.”

“Thanks for doing this for me.”

“I just wanted to be there for you, in case you get yourself in trouble.”

Armin bit his lower lip, his face turned a bit serious. “You don’t have to look after me.”

“I know I don’t have to, but if it means that it’s my only way to be with you, then I’m willing to do it.” Her eyes pierced deep into his heart. If he stared at her eyes for a little longer, he might fall, so he dropped their gaze.

“Uh, right.” Armin shifted his position, his face reddened, unsure whether he understood the meaning of what she just said or if she meant nothing by that. He didn’t want to overthink it too much, so he changed the subject. “About the favors you asked me…”

“Yeah? What about it?” she replied dryly.

“I want to help you write those letters.”

For a moment, she looked surprised but amended her expression back to her usual cold façade. “You don’t have to. I already spent my money on shopping.”

“It’s fine; you can pay me later,” he offered. “You tell me what you feel, then I will write it on paper. Deal?”

“Just that?”

He hummed, nodding.

She crossed her arms, her eyes darting to the ceiling.

“Then you better keep your ears open at all times.”

[sforzesco]

i fully consider you the italian renaissance guy so i am going to ask you this because i’m genuinely curious <3 do you have Thoughts on the pazzi conspiracy…… i have sooo many tbh it makes me really crazy <333 i read this book about caesar’s assassination a while back and it said something along the lines of “Why were the conspirators apparently surprised by the panic their deed caused in the city?” and i think about that every time i think about the pazzi conspiracy…. the parallels between classical/late republican conspiracies and the ones present in the italian renaissance era…… aughhhh it’s. 😵‍💫

thank you, but I am merely standing on the shoulders of the work of all the other italian renaissance guys (gender neutral) who came before me!!

that said I have so many thoughts about the Pazzi conspiracy, the Pazzi conspiracy my beloved, my best friend, my most ardent love, I'm obsessed with it. hashtag Francesco de' Pazzi apologist etc etc

It has EVERYTHING it shows that people did not sit idle in the shadow of Medici power, the politics of banking and generational humiliation, it has cannibalism, it has such hate that the act of retaliation cannot simply be exile and death their memory must be wiped out too, faces removed from portraits, it has a private affair (conspiracy) being made public (the assassination) and the failure to control the immediate aftermath (everything is an echo of the Ides of March assassination but worse, and also the Pazzi conspiracy in a larger discussion of renaissance assassinations and conspiracies? Stefano Porcari, I'm sending you flowers), there's the whole thing with churches as a bloody theatre for spectacles of violence: Galeazzo Maria Sforza, killed on a feast day, the Pazzi planning assassination during a High Mass, the way potential assassins cower under the eye of God and refuse to spill blood on sacred ground but a priest has no such fear.

it's also got that dramatic and tragic foreshadowing, like god, it has it all, I think about this part out of Machiavelli's Florentine Histories constantly

Lorenzo, flushed with youth and power, would assume the direction of everything, and resolved that all transactions should bear an impress of his influence. The Pazzi, with their nobility and wealth unable to endure so many affronts, began to devise some means of vengeance. The first who spoke of any attempt against the Medici, was Francesco, who, being more sensitive and resolute than the others, determined either to obtain what was withheld from him, or lose what he still possessed.

it's all or nothing, baby! (admittedly this overlaps into an adjacent category into a larger discourse on morality and personality with political slander in pro-Medici works regarding the Pazzi, Pontano has a similar line about Orsini, but I think it's fun! bite chomp kill away, Francesco)

this is not to imply that Machiavelli was a pro-Medici writer (imo it's a lot more complex than that), Poliziano attributes this Do or Die trait to Francesco, and Machiavelli was writing after Poliziano. Machiavelli and conspiracies is a whole topic on it's own, it's just that Machiavelli's writings live rent free in my head and I'll always reference them first. like. every time I think about failed conspiracies that cycle to tragedy, I think about Machiavelli's commentary on power in Discourses on Livy, about how one must slay the sons of Brutus too, and how inevitably, this genre of conspirators always opt for less bloodshed, which always leads to their own demise.

there's this fascinating topic of Greek narratives as a mold for Roman biographies in regards to Plutarch's Lives, and there's something similar going on with the Pazzi, Sallust and Suetonius, and Poliziano's Commentarium that compels me too, ngl.

on the topic of the Commentarium, tho

Conspiracy Literature in Early Renaissance Italy, Marta Celati

the Pazzi conspirators 🤝 the Ides of March conspirators

In a larger historical dialogue, I think Medici retaliation for the assassination really highlights the later violence that the Medici will inflict on a much larger scale in the 1530 siege of Florence. it's like, the Pazzi are the most obvious crack in the Medici facade.

April Blood, Lauro Martines

The Medici, Mary Hollingsworth

oh boy, this is getting out of hand, but to go back to what you mentioned about Caesar and failed conspiracies, I'm thinking again about Machiavelli (this time his chapter on Conspiracies in Discourses in addition to the You Must Kill The Sons Of Brutus line. Like, you must also slay the sons of Brutus, but no one wants to do it!!!!). time is a flat circle for real, tragic repetitions all the way down 😔

[annieintheaair]

I'll wait for something if waiting's what I need to do. I'm okay with nothing cause nothing's what I got from you and I'll pray for something that only God can do, while I wait for someone that loves me like I thought I loved you.

After I had last written, Matt came over to help me carry my nightstand upstairs. I've talked to him about being reliable and he has improved and even worked on communication. Earlier in the week I had a conversation with him to make sure that him doing nice things to help me wasn't an effort to try to change my mind and convince me to date him. He said he understood and enjoyed hanging out with me anyway. Because of this, I felt like it was okay for him to come over and help with the nightstand and I really appreciated it.

I ended up going to bed later than planned because after the nightstand was put upstairs, Matt helped me figure out how to inflate my bike tires and then we hung out for a bit before he left since he had an early flight Saturday morning.

Saturday morning I got up and went to community group. I've been trying to go every week and I do enjoy going and spending time with a church group while drinking coffee and eating muffins. We discuss the weekly sermon and the current topic is Decisions, which I find quite appropriate.

When I got home, I decided it was a great day for a bike ride now that my tires were inflated. I figured it would be fun to bring the dogs with me so I watched a few YouTube videos and learned how to attach the dog bike trailer to my bike. I thought I broke my bike a few times when I got the chains off the tracks but I finally figured it out and was so proud of myself.

We had a really nice ride to the dog park, which is about 4 miles from my house on the trail. I think my dogs actually enjoyed it and were surprised when we arrived at the dog park, where I let them out to run around.

It was hot in the sun and I was tired so I figured we'd head back so I could go home and relax and maybe take a nap at some point. We were about a half mile from the park when I must have hit something that busted my front tire. I searched to see if there was Uber for bikes and thought AAA for bikes would be nice, too (I didn't know it but that is actually a thing). I ended up having to walk my bike, with the dog trailer and dogs, 3.5 miles home. I wanted to cry in frustration but didn't and was so happy once I finally got home, even though I was dripping in sweat.

I had just enough time at that point to feed the dogs, take a shower, and get ready for the night. Jillian got tickets to see Kevin Hart and invited me so I offered to drive us there. I picked her up around 6pm and we headed down.

I was completely shocked when we got there and they put our phones and watches in these pouches and locked them up. I had no idea what time it was or any way to communicate with anyone, including Jillian if I lost her. We discussed meetup points if we got separated.

The event started about a half hour late (at least that's what they said when they started but I didn't know what time it was). There were way too many headliners, which also took too long. By the time Kevin got on stage, I thought I'd already be home in bed by that point. It ended up being a much later night than I had planned, especially because it was a nightmare leaving, trying to get our phones unlocked, traffic in the parking lot, and then detours.

Todd texted me asking if he could come to church in the morning and I'm not one to tell someone, no, you can't come to church, so he decided to meet me there. I met him at church around 11am for the 11:15 service and after we were going to go grab a drink but he called me while I was on my way home real quick and asked if we could meet after. I figured that was fine since I needed to go home to get my tire first so I could go get it fixed.

Anyway, long story short, Todd blew me off. I guess I should have expected it from him. The whole situation brought back the feelings I had when we were dating and he would gaslight me into making me feel like I was the problem, knowing deep down that I wasn't. He completely invalidated my feelings and then went back to his normal routine of ignoring me when he was mad. I still haven't heard from him and maybe I won't, but maybe that's for the best. I realized in therapy today that whether we're friends or we're dating, he still has the opportunity to hurt me again and I didn't like how I felt after yesterday. It almost made me wish that he had never reached out to reconnect in July. I didn't need him to come back into my life just to leave again. I don't deserve to be hurt more by him.

The few things he did say to me before he stopped replying completely really hurt. He tried to tell me that I needed to figure out my emotions. Well, I had no plans on ever speaking to him and he's the one who reached out in the first place. I literally have no idea what his intention was behind all of this.

My voice crackled a lot during therapy today, as I tried not to cry over my frustrations. In my last text to Todd, I refrained from telling him that it was because of him that I decided to swear off dating. My heart can't handle the pain and yesterday was a confirmation of that. I hate that he has made me into someone who doesn't even believe in love anymore. Love feels like a lie. My therapist reminded me that my feelings are valid and I do have my emotions in check, despite what Todd thinks. I am allowed to feel hurt and upset when someone bails on me. I'm also allowed to be frustrated and angry when someone completely ignores me instead of talking to me. It's not "drama" to have feelings, it's human.

This morning, even though I didn't really want to, I got up and went to Pilates. Danielle's class is always encouraging and inspiring. She cheers us on and it makes me feel like I can do anything I set my mind to. I feel like I'm getting stronger and I'm proud of myself for pushing myself so hard to exercise more and prioritize myself.

I've been working on and off for my second job all day but obviously took a break to go to therapy. Remember, makeup is too expensive to apply more than once per day. Even though everything was eating me up inside over the last 24+ hours, I'm proud of myself for not sobbing uncontrollably and not crying at all.

Anyway, it's time for me to get ready for work. It has been a long weekend-ish off for me and getting back into the swing of things can be hard.

xoxo

Annie

[getittogetherk]

November 12, 2023

Today was the first "better" day in a long time.

The last week I suppose was fairly typical. Staying in bed after my alarm would go off, staring into my phone, half working, and half staring at my phone, news, any news, celebrity news, huffington post personal stories, youtube topics that i don't really care for, but are there and have millions of views.

there is little difference between my time working and not working. i go from staring at my phone every other minute to just staring at it every minute, usually from bed. then i go over to the cluttered dining table where i clear a little spot, eat something unhealthy (these days: boxed kraft mac 'n cheese, ramen, or sujaebi), all while staring at my phone some more. i got a notification that my average screen time was over 10 hours last week.

a few updates: mom closed on her new place up the street, and last weekend cindy eemo and christina eemo flew over to help pack her up and move her in. that weekend i went to solvang overnight with lana and mirna for a nice dinner, wine tasting, a little indian casino, and a lot of just hanging out. when i came back, i took the eemos out to sushi gen saturday night, then to church on sunday morning, and then drove them to LAX monday evening.

last week was a pretty typical workweek. a few chores during my telework days, in office all day wednesday, no journaling, no reading, some intermittent messages with a lady on tinder. a lot of phone-staring, zombie scrolling, bed rotting.

this past weekend i had friday off and just slept for hours and hours. 12, per fitbit. and i made and ate just pounds and pounds of sujaebi.

on saturday i made some effort to clean as much as i could, as 1: i had planned to, and 2: rhiannon was going to come over and the place had gotten a bit out of hand. i was able to wash some dishes and pick up a few things, and then she came over, we walked for 1.5-2 hours at the gabrielino trail by jpl while we talked, then ate at roscoe's, then switched our trunk contents, emptying my many many moving boxes and swapping it with her drinks and snacks from one of her last work productions. she had wanted some help bouncing off ideas and listing pros and cons to figure out her next steps, as she had recently learned that she'd be losing her job by the end of the year, and she needed to line up things like: where to store her things, how to get out of her lease when her apartment mate was still on it, whether she could stay here intermittently if she had in-person interviews, what size of a storage unit she'd need. she ended up staying for quite a while, procrastinating, and instead mostly working on and finishing up the puzzle we had started some weeks earlier.

today was the first okay day in a long time. i wasn't desperately texting anyone who would listen. wasn't asking lana or danielle or amir what they were doing, what they're ever doing, if i can join, if i can just peripherally participate.

today i woke up at a reasonable time, did some chores, got out to the local church, New Abbey, cried, worshipped, prayed, held hands, and then went to Bea Bea's in burbank where i caught up with amy and cried just a little more. it was very good to see her. then to walmart where i picked up a few needed items (detergent, toilet paper, a clipboard, etc.) then a 45 minute walk, a shower, and a quick visit to my mom where we tried to figure out what kinds of repairs/services she'd be needing, i briefed her on my church experience, i ate dinner, and then came home.

i had a lot of coffee today, saw people who i loved and who loved me, and felt seen and accepted at church. i also got some very much needed exercise and started up with my lists again. weekly lists, monthly lists. little steps. daily outdoor excursions. one fruit/vegetable serving a day. more journaling. more reading. less screen time.

today felt hopeful. feeling grateful.

[rarebird22]

Update!

The meeting went better than I expected and the stake president is nice! He did say like 2 problematic things but neither of them seemed intentional; overall he's got a solid foundation for becoming a good ally in the future! Summary of our meeting under the cut.

(also for anyone coming across this post who's not familiar with mormonism, stakes are organizational units like parishes)

Stake Pres was still meeting with someone else when I arrived so I talked with one of his counselors for a while. Turns out the counselor studied the same subjects, at the same college, as I am currently! He told me about his experiences being in our college's first-ever GIS class (at the time called Computer Cartography) in the 80's. It was a super cool connection and made me feel less anxious.

The stake president also spent a while getting to know me before asking why I scheduled the meeting/what I wanted to talk about. The stake presidency is new (just got called a month or two ago) which I think contributes. Anyways, I explained to him that I feel strongly about increasing inclusion in the church, and that recent experiences have made me feel like I need to start taking a more active role. I specifically mentioned the conference talks "Welcome to the Church of Joy" and "Ye are my Friends" - if you haven't read those I highly recommend them!

Anyways, I explained that I have many friends and family members who are queer and that a lot of church policy/rhetoric can make queer people feel broken, rejected, or unloved. TBH, I was really nervous at this point- I was bringing up a topic that's sorta taboo within the church and had no idea how this guy would react. I might have rambled a bit as I was trying to get my point across as much I could in one go. I was worried that if I did figure out he was homophobic, I wouldn't feel comfortable sharing much else. I told him that I feel really strongly about actively showing queer folks that they're welcome and loved, and I would like to do something to show that more in our stake. (I already have some ideas of how to do that, but wanted to stay open to collaborate and build something together if possible, and since I was anxious I ended up saying "I don't know what that would look like, but I want to do something.")

After patiently listening to me explaining (and probably repeating myself several times), Stake Pres told me he was glad I came in to talk. I got the sense that his listening was really genuine. I do not remember the entirety of what he said, but I remember him emphasizing that he believes everyone is a child of God; that God obviously loves all of his children no matter what; and that he doesn't understand why people feel homosexual attraction or that their gender doesn't match their sex (my words not his- he just said he doesn't know why people feel "that way").

He told me about two personal experiences with queer people while he's been in a church leader role, and both left me feeling pleasantly surprised- based on his telling of the stories, he handled the situations extremely well for a leader in the Church.

The first story was about calling someone to be a high counselor in a YSA stake, and the guy told him during the interview that he was gay and was probably going to start dating guys. The stake pres asked him if he planned to keep his temple covenants (specifically the law of chastity), the guy getting called said yes, and the stake pres told him that as long as that was the case there wouldn't be any problem with him holding a calling. He says he ended the interview by telling the guy to come back and let him know if anything changed and he wanted to be released, making sure to clarify that he wouldn't ask any invasive personal questions if that did happen. The way he told the story seemed to show a lot of respect for the guy's agency.

The second story was about a trans woman who came out to him in a personal interview she scheduled. (there's discussion of internalized transphobia here, read carefully) He explained that she was very clearly feeling a lot of anguish/mental distress over the decision to publicly transition, and that she was basically choosing between transition or suicide. It broke my heart when he recounted her asking if God would ever possibly accept her decision and not hate her. (Back to more positive stuff:) Please, if you're feeling the same, know that God has created you the way you are on purpose, that he loves you deeply, and that he would never bar you from coming home because of the way he made you.

The stake President explained how the experience taught him that being trans is not a choice. He said that to him, it didn't seem like a situation where agency was involved, rather that transitioning was the only good solution for her in a genuine crisis. I told him that this was a very familiar situation as it's what my aunt went through. She's luckily still with us and doing well!

Like I mentioned above, there were a few less-than-ideal comments: A- Stake Pres used he/him pronouns in his story about the trans woman. It's something I've noticed older folks doing frequently when they feel a need to make the direction of a transition clear but don't know about terminology like afab or amab. I didn't feel like it was very problematic in this case, more like Stake Pres just didn't know better. B - in both of the stories above, the people eventually decided to step away from active participation at church. Stake Pres expressed a lot of sorrow at that, kind of giving the impression of "unfortunately they didn't stay in the church for long after coming out." That attitude did feel problematic to me, but it's something I hope honest, heartfelt stories or conversations could help with. I really do believe that more genuine listening and dialogue is the solution to a lot of ideological differences and othering.

We ended our meeting with him thanking me again for coming in to meet, telling me that following promptings to help others is a good thing and that he agrees with my goals. He promised to reach out again after talking with his counselors about things I might be able to do to help.

Anyways, thanks for reading the really long post if you got this far. Let me know what you think, and remember that you are beautifully and wonderfully made!

Look queerstake! I was brave and did something scary 😊

[justekasmindx]

01.02.23

Today I didn't go anywhere. I was bothered that going home isn't worth it because I only laid down in bed and watched movies. I cannot blame rainy weather, clearly that's only an excuse, it was my decision after all out of my laziness. Though there are things I wanted to do.. do some journaling at a coffee shop's roof top, feel the fresh air in the park or roam around the mall and do some retail therapy. But nope.. I chose to stay in bed, watch WandaVision's series half of the day. I guess I didn't have the courage to help myself today. First I thought because of the rain, second because I don't wanna spend anymore money and just now I realized that it was me that did lose hope of me getting better. I am getting depressed, I guess. A part of me thought none of those activities would make me feel better. Nobody tried to talk to me today about how I am, how's my day going. I wanted to talk to people. In the morning I opened up about my feelings of staying with my relatives in Cavite, that it's chaos, and it makes me feel guilty that i'm avoiding them because I cannot handle the situation, my job is stressful enough for me plus the travel time, makes me wanna just sleep right after I arrive in the house, and I avoid dealing with the problem. My mom agreed and we changed topic after that. The evening came, my mom was busy on the dinner table, we were talking about our plan for the next day, going to Manila. Then she bluntly said she wants me to go to church. I got irritated by the fact that I already explained to her that I am not ready to go back to church. I just can't right now yet she still pursues the idea of it once in a while. She frowned, got more irritated than me because of my tone of voice, she said because i'm her daughter and it's why she's asking me to do things. I told her stop telling me what she wants and begin to ask me how do I feel or when I can be ready to do it, that my other aunts are not forcing my cousins to blend in to our generational traditions or religions rather respect their decisions as individuals and I want the same thing, that I am no longer a kid, that I am no longer a college freshie that she will decide of what course should I take. She went back to her phone and pretended she didn't hear me. I continued telling her that I felt manipulated by her words, asking me to do what she wants. She raised her voice, told me i speaks too sharply and asked me why can't I see that she's busy at her work and why can't I stop throwing memories at her. She stood up and took few steps away from me. I explained I fully understand that she's concern about my spiritual being, that I already let her know about my side several times but clearly she's not listening, that she keeps telling me I am her daughter, but she only listens to what she wanna hear, not I really feel, that it is not about her, it is about me. I told her it is still up to her if she's gonna listen to me at least I explained myself then I stopped, I walked away, I shed a few tears but then I pat myself in the back, i'm proud of myself for standing up for the child in me who has never got a chance to be heard before because I didn't believe at my own thoughts. Well it's changed now. I'm facing 2023 believing in my own principles, not going to let anyone abuse me, I am a very generous person but I'm going to build my boundaries a few meters up. I will face everything with the right energy and protect it at all costs. I will no longer let other people's problems get to me. I am at peace amidst the chaos.

[californiafacts]

Pope Benedict Death Age 95, Discuss About Early life and career

Former Pope Benedict XVI passed away in Vatican City on April 18, 2018, at the age of 95, after a prolonged illness. According to a statement released by the Vatican on Saturday, Benedict died. He was the first pontiff in nearly 600 years to resign rather than keep office for life. "With regret, I inform you that the Pope Emeritus, Benedict XVI, passed away today at 9:34 at the Mater Ecclesiae Monastery in the Vatican," Holy See Press Office Director Matteo Bruni said. "Additional details will be shared as soon as they become available." A few days before his death, Pope Francis requested prayers for Benedict, stating he was "extremely unwell." Please join me in praying for Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, whose silent leadership keeps the Church strong. It looks like he is unwell. Francis remarked during Wednesday's general audience, "We implore the Lord to console and sustain him in this witness of love for the Church to the very end." He'd been in a state of deteriorating health for some time. On February 11, 2013, Benedict shocked the Catholic faithful and religious experts throughout the world by announcing his plans to resign as Pope, citing his "old age." Despite saying he would remain "hidden" from the world in his farewell address, the retired pope continued to speak up on religious topics in the years that followed, adding to tensions within the Catholic Church.

pope benedict death

A powerful and polarizing voice

For many years, Benedict was one of the most influential people in the Catholic Church. Joachim Ratzinger was born in Germany in 1927; his father was a cop. He began his religious career in 1951 when he has ordained a priest, rose to the rank of cardinal in 1977, and eventually became Pope John Paul II's most trusted doctrinal advisor. In 1981, he was promoted to the position of head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith, the Vatican institution responsible for regulating, in the Vatican's words, "the doctrine on the faith and morality throughout the Catholic world." Ratzinger's efforts to suppress liberation theology, religious pluralism, challenges to conventional doctrines on matters like homosexuality, and calls to ordain women as priests earned him the nickname "Cardinal No." After the death of Pope John Paul II in April 2005, he was elected pope. Pope Francis, who succeeded Benedict, has been more active in dealing with the sexual abuse epidemic that has plagued the church in recent years and casts a shadow over Benedict's legacy. Francis has also moved to modify the Vatican's views on abortion and homosexuality. In a public letter dated April 2019, Benedict XVI addressed the sex abuse epidemic, blaming the sexual revolution of the 1960s and the church's moral teachings liberalization for its spread. In January 2020, while Pope Francis was debating whether or not to allow married men to become priests, Benedict had to dissociate himself from a book that was widely perceived as undermining Francis. The author of "From the Depths of Our Hearts" defended the Catholic Church's long-standing policy of maintaining a celibate clergy. Benedict was first credited as a co-author, but he later explained that he had only written a single paragraph. An inquiry investigating abuse by Catholic clergy in Munich and Freising was commissioned by the Church, and its publication a year later brought criticism to Benedict's period as archbishop of those cities from 1977 to 1982. Four incidences of sexual abuse of juveniles were brought to his attention while he was in office, two of which occurred while he was in office, but he did nothing to address them, according to the study. It also came to light that Benedict had been present at a discussion regarding the infamous Priest X. After the investigation came out, Benedict responded by denying claims that he was aware of the priest's abusive history as early as 1980. Despite his flaws, Benedict said in a letter revealed by the Vatican during the uproar that he was "of good cheer" before "the final judgment of my life." Additionally, he extended a blanket apology to abuse victims. Pope Benedict is very much in my heart and in my prayers. I give thanks to God for his ministry and leadership. May he rest in peace and rise in glory. Amen — Cardinal Nichols (@CardinalNichols) December 31, 2022 On the morning of Monday, 2 January 2023— the traditional liturgical feast of the Holy Name of Jesus—the body of Pope Benedict will be brought to St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican to allow people to pay their respects.” pic.twitter.com/QAYGMZ12Q3 — Archdiocese of Glasgow (@ArchdiocGlasgow) December 31, 2022

Early life and career

Both of Ratzinger's parents worked in the service industry; his father was a police officer and his mother a hotel cook. Ratzinger was the youngest of three children and was just six years old when the Nazis assumed power in Germany in 1933. His parents, both devout Catholics, were opposed to the dictatorship. After graduating from college in 1939, Ratzinger enrolled in a seminary. He was conscripted into the German military in 1943 and served in an antiaircraft unit in Bavaria before being dispatched to Hungary in 1945 to build tank traps. He had been forced to join the Hitler Youth in 1941. He abandoned his post in April of that year, and the United States military promptly took him, prisoner. Ratzinger returned to the seminary in the wake of the war and was ordained in June 1951. The University of Munich granted him a Ph.D. in theology in 1953. After receiving his teaching certificate in 1957, he taught dogma and theology at the Freising higher school of philosophy and theology until 1959, then at the University of Bonn (1959-1969), Münster (1963-1966), and Tübingen (1969) at the invitation of the theologian Hans Küng (1966–69). To become vice president of the University of Regensburg, he transferred there in 1969. During his extensive academic career, Ratzinger authored several seminal theological writings, such as Introduction to Christianity (1968) and Dogma and Revelation (1989). (1973). Joseph Frings, archbishop of Cologne, saw Ratzinger's theological work and requested him to be his expert assistant at the Second Vatican Council (1962–65). Ratzinger, a progressive on the council, fought against conservatives who wanted to slow reform. He helped write a report that was instrumental in Pope Paul VI's (1963–78) decision to restructure the Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office as the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. However, Ratzinger's time as a student at university caused a shift in his worldview. While teaching at Tübingen, he watched student protests and denunciations of Christianity, which reminded him of the tactics of the Nazis and ultimately led him to adopt a more conservative theological perspective. Paul VI appointed Ratzinger archbishop of Munich and Freising in March 1977, and three months later he was elevated to the rank of cardinal. Pope John Paul II (1978-2005), a close friend of his since 1977, appointed him prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith on November 25, 1981. Both the pope and his prefect had seen life under totalitarian regimes, and as a result, their perspectives on the church were very similar. Ratzinger was the Pope's closest advisor for over twenty years. Ratzinger was known as a strict enforcer of church law during his time as prefect of the Vatican's Congregation for the Teaching of the Faith. This office is in charge of safeguarding Catholic doctrine and determining whether or not canon law provides grounds for disciplinary action against clergy. He was harsh on liberation theologians like Leonardo Boff of Brazil and Charles Curran of the United States, two of the most liberal theologians of his day. His reputation preceded him, but even his sharpest enemies acknowledged his intelligence and ability to handle sensitive subjects in an objective and dispassionate manner. In addition to his considerable talents as a linguist and pianist who especially enjoyed the works of Mozart, he was known for his humility and kindness. Although Ratzinger was adamant about the supremacy of Catholicism over other religions, which he saw as inadequate for salvation, he was also deeply involved in Pope John Paul's historic attempts to reach out to other faiths, especially Judaism and Islam. In his life and ministry, Pope Benedict XVI directed people to Christ. I join with Pope Francis and all the Catholic Church in mourning his death. May he rest in Christ’s peace and rise in glory with all the Saints. My statement: https://t.co/b1COzzT2S1 pic.twitter.com/NjGPprL1uI — Archbishop of Canterbury (@JustinWelby) December 31, 2022

Papacy

As a leading candidate, Ratzinger's election as pope on the second day of the conclave came as something of a surprise. The famous term "He who arrives as a pope exits as a cardinal" reflects this phenomenon. His long service to John Paul and his commitment to his teachings and objectives presumably won him the support of the cardinal electors. The homily he gave during the pope's burial also contributed to his rising profile. Ratzinger graciously accepted his election on April 19, 2005, making history as the oldest newly elected pope since Clement XII, at the age of 78 (despite his claim that he had prayed against being picked) (1730–40). St. Benedict of Nursia, patron saint of Europe and founder of Western monasticism, inspired his choice of the name Benedict XVI, which also echoes previous popes with the same name, such as Benedict XV (1914-22), who attempted to broker peace between the combatants of World War I. Benedict XVI wasted no time in carrying on Pope John Paul II's efforts to improve relations with non-Christian religions and religious communities. Further, he stated that reviving the Catholic Church in Europe will be a priority during his pontificate. Furthermore, Benedict made clear that he will continue his predecessor's conservative doctrine on sexuality, clerical celibacy, and institutional structure. When Pope Benedict first took office, he traveled extensively in an effort to mend fences between the Eastern Orthodox Church and the Roman Catholic Church. One of the nations he visited was Turkey, where he met with the ecumenical patriarch of Constantinople. He published the encyclicals Deus Caritas est (2005; "God Is Love") and Spe Salvi (2007; "Saved by Hope"), and he announced new guidelines enabling increased use of the Latin mass (the order of the mass used before the changes of the Second Vatican Council). The traditional concept of limbo was deemed "unduly restrictive" by Benedict XVI in 2007, and the International Theological Commission, a Vatican advisory council, later confirmed these findings by stating that newborns who were not baptized were still saved. When he first visited the Western Hemisphere, he went to Brazil to canonize Father Antonio Galvo (1739-1822), the country's first native-born saint. With his declaration that a new pope must be elected with a two-thirds majority of the cardinals present at the conclave, he also reversed John Paul II's reform of the papal election process and returned it to its original form. When Pope Benedict XVI first visited the United States in 2008, he addressed the United Nations and spoke out against sexual abuse by clergy. In the fall of the same year, he spoke in the first Catholic-Muslim Forum, a three-day conference of Catholic theologians and Islamic scholars convened by the Vatican to foster a better understanding between the two religions. In January 2009, Benedict made the controversial decision to reverse the ex-communications of four bishops who had been consecrated by ultraconservative French archbishop Marcel Lefebvre (1905-91) in 1988 without papal approval. To reach out to traditionalists within the Anglican Church, Pope Benedict XVI authorized a constitutional amendment in November of the same year that would allow Anglican clergy and laypeople to join the Roman Catholic Church while retaining certain Anglican practices. In 2010, Benedict, and his role in the cases in Germany in particular, came under close public attention due to charges of sexual and physical abuse by parish priests and in parochial schools, particularly in Germany, Ireland, and the United States. The bishops of the Irish Church were criticized by Benedict in a pastoral letter for their lack of leadership. The Vatican also condemned as "false and calumnious" allegations that Benedict's treatment of sexual abuse cases as head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith showed a lack of "wisdom and firmness." Benedict announced his resignation from the papacy in February 2013 due to age and health concerns. Attended by more than 50,000 people, his farewell public speech took place at St. Peter's Square. On February 28, he formally resigned from his position as pontiff and became pope emeritus, prompting widespread discussion about whether or not this precedent would legitimize the departure of future popes. By electing Pope Francis, the papacy entered unprecedented terrain, with two heads of the Catholic Church sharing the Vatican Palace. In 2022, the archdiocese of Munich commissioned an investigation alleging that the retired pope had botched his management of at least four incidents of priestly sexual abuse while serving as archbishop there. Pope Benedict XVI denied any wrongdoing but prayed for forgiveness for how he handled the instances. Read the full article

[dearrrabbit]

harringsmith fic prompt. that fuckin content creator au. yes

oh my god yes. the one from the gay fishbowl

Steve starts the stream energetic. It’s a Friday night, his connection’s purring like a happy cat and on screen, a little Scout runs around in the world of Team Fortress IITM.

He wasn’t much for fighting games, he’d amassed a following on your run-of-the-mill Minecraft videos with the occasional nighttime-walk stream, but this game was different. This game came highly recommended from him. Quentin Smith. Steve was new to the circle of content creators, but Quentin had been one of the first to do one-on-one collaborations with him, kind, and smart, but not in that way where he ever made you feel less than.

His character idles, and he chuckles at the fast-moving chat, no doubt reacting to his title. Though him and Quentin had become something of a duo, his audience was clearly just as fond of him as Steve was. Steve’s heart squeezes painfully at the thought. It was hard, having a crush in front of what feels like the whole world, especially under the exacting lens of slashfic enthusiasts and boundary breakers.

He realizes he’s gone quiet too early, Quentin’s typed ‘???’ blinking up at him from the Discord chat window. Steve clears his throat.

“Heyyyy, chat. What’s up. You little fuckers miss me?” He tries for easy-going, coughing nervously at the end to receive a chorus of ‘sus’ and ‘what’s he done now’. “Ah. Yeah. Glad to have had a break from you all.”

Quentin’s laugh - mute to the world but clear as church bells to Steve- rings in his ears, breathy and wonderful. Steve feels like a fucking idiot, his tongue becoming heavy in his mouth.

“Well. I figured, since I’d been gone, ugh.. You know, I’d been gone for a bit, so I just figured.. Hey. Let’s get everybody’s favorite YouTube Live streamer on TF2. It’s all a blur after that.” He stammers his way through his pre-rehearsed intro and adds the Discord window to the audio panel.

“Hey chat.” Quentin huffs into the mic. and Steve can’t help the absolutely girlish giggle he lets out at the most unfunny trick in the joke book. Love makes you blind. Quentin’s mic booms into the red on his audio panel. “HEY STEVE’S CHAT.”

Chat’s whizzing past him and he’s still tittering, but Quentin gets straight to business, a Sniper crouches towards Steve’s idle Scout and throws a jar, while Steve manages a, “Oh, wow, this guy’s mic is loud, that’s fucking hilarious!”

The yellow-tinted vision of a Jarate-soaked Scout causes an uproar and the stream is off to a bang, and Steve.. Steve finds himself caught up in it too. Maybe he’s a little too highly today, his facecam betraying him as fuzzy-eyed and red, like a Roccoco painting. He can’t really bring himself to care. Quentin’s like. His best friend. It’s normal to feel the world melt away like this. It’s going great until it isn’t, really.

Somehow they get onto the uneasy topic of past relationships. Quentin’s camping in a crow’s nest somewhere, reading out a donation with an audible wrinkle to his nose. “Hey Quen, huge fan.. Do you ever plan to collab with Nancy again, we miss the mythos videos..? Oh. Um..”

His uneasy hum pricks Steve’s ears, and Steve’s quick to double-jump, flashing past Quentin’s scope. “Hey. Hey Quentin. Hey Man. Hey.”

Quentin sniggers through his response, trying to ignore Steve’s antics, “Ah.. You know, I kinda drifted away from the whole horror story reading scene. Real life’s enough of a horror story right now.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods emphatically, “Reading’s for virgins.”

“Wasn’t your whole channel built on Minecraft Hunger Games?”

Steve splutters, finding himself lost on an answer but still smiling through his faux indignation, happy to hear Quentin chuckle through the connection again.

Fuck. Fuck he is so whipped. It’s unfair, His life wasn’t supposed to become a shitty fanfiction, he wasn’t supposed to have to watch everything he says for fear of either himself or his fans making Quentin uncomfortable. Really, anybody he fancied. He m wished he could just end stream here unprompted, keep that back and forth like they were two nobodies, two somebodies together.

Steve absentmindedly responds to something that wasn’t even asked of him. “Yeah. Shit, collabs are also just hard to do. You’ve gotta keep your energy paced with theirs, you gotta be entertaining but not a bitch, it’s a lot man.”

“What about our collabs?“ Quentin pouts at him. Jokingly. It’s a joke, Steve knows - rather, realizes- that it’s a joke when the sentence is halfway out of his mouth.

“Not an effort honestly. I love, uh. I love collabing with you, man.” Steve wants to hit himself as soon as he says it, groaning inwardly as he can already see the chat moving faster, he knows it’s too damn earnest. There’s 16,000 people watching.

“Oh. That’s.. really nice, dude.” Quentin sounds surprised, caught off-guard, and Steve is wondering if he can fake a lightning storm and unplug his internet. If he can really milk the ‘stupid Steve’ bit and turn his PC off with his foot.

“Bromantic, even.” Steve tries. And Quentin cackles. And a second later, his Discord chimes, his mod chat (manned by Robin, because who else would willingly try to do damage control for his messes,) exploding with ‘STEVE.’

<dustybun3: You should be publicly shot

lesbian shulk: i hate being your moderator. i’m retiring. what did i do to deserve this look at your fucking fans

the weedmobile: i… wow. holy shit dude.. like im not even this bad

stevie nickel: <everyoneissomean2me.jpg>

Before he can get too distracted, Quentin curses, low and frustrated. “Fuck. Hey, watch out. There’s a Demoknight heading your way.”

Steve ends up staring at the respawn screen due to his absolute inability to tab through screens. “Oh, shit, sorry man.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll kill him for you.” Quentin’s nice enough to shrug his gaming bluffs off, and Steve really shouldn’t be fighting off a smile at the thought of his little polygon self being avenged.

“Yeah? Avenge me.” He throws a hand against his forehead dramatically, grinning ear to ear.

“Count on it, baby.”

Steve has to physically bite back a giggle, ignoring the incessant pinging of his mods. In moments like this, it was easy to forget about the audience; to forget their conversations were watched and studied. It was easy to simply.. Be them.

[dmclemblems]

Just wanted to tell you that I really love your recent post about Rhea. It always baffles me that people don't see how similar she is to the three lords and how each of them reflects parts of Rhea, her personality and history. She is a very complex, but - IMO - criminally underutilized character. I would've love to see more of her in Three Hopes, in this different timeline "without" Byleth and all the drama, especially in AG as ally. Really a wasted opportunity.

Thank you!! I agree, Rhea isn't utilized as much as she could and should be. Even in Hopes, they could've used her as part of the story without Byleth. When the game came out, that's actually what I was hoping for. I wanted to see more of what the Church would look like without Byleth around and without Rhea being able to truly plan to pass on her role to Byleth.

Also, the fact that you can kill Byleth (and Jeralt) in Hopes and you don't get any scene with Rhea about it is such a wasted plotline. You can literally kill the person who is the vessel for Rhea's mother that she's been trying to revive all this time, effectively killing Sothis, and Rhea just... apparently never finds out.

Jeralt's Mercenaries in this game are also a common topic, so it's not like she just wouldn't know they're out and about. Jeralt says he wants to steer clear of Rhea, but I'm sure word of him has reached her at the very least. If you're playing SB, Jeralt is hired by Faerghus initially and for quite some time. It's not like in AG where they join near the end of the game and Dimitri promises to help Jeralt keep a low profile. Since she also doesn't mention him/Byleth in AG at camp, I imagine he successfully kept them out of Rhea's notice. Even then though, she should be aware that they were hired by the enemy, no? Ofc, even if not, it's still a wasted plotline that she just doesn't know.

Seriously, it should've been some kind of plot where if you killed Byleth and Jeralt that you had to fight Rhea and she tried to get revenge for them. Jeralt she had a personal friendship with and has known him for such a long time. Byleth she doesn't know personally but she does know that's the vessel of her mother and Jeralt and Sitri's child. You choosing to kill them in any route should definitely have consequences.

In SB and GW it makes sense that Rhea would become your enemy since she's your enemy regardless, but I'd love an extra battle with her or something. Maybe Edelgard or Claude, depending on the route, learns about what happened to the Nabateans because she tells them in a part of the story only accessible if you killed Byleth. In AG, maybe it causes tension between the armies and the KoS won't help you anymore, or maybe for a little while while Seteth tries to reason with Rhea. Since in Houses Seteth makes it clear to the player that he wasn't privy to the whole Byleth-Sitri-Sothis situation, he wouldn't be as connected emotionally to Byleth and Jeralt dying. He's also skeptical of Jeralt at first in Houses because of him having run away in the past. I feel like he'd talk to Rhea, who is angry at the Kingdom army for killing them, and reason with her about why it happened and that they're not to blame for whatever she's upset about (and even if she told Seteth the whole truth, I think he'd still explain to her that it's not their fault and they couldn't have known any of that).

Plus, seeing tension with Faerghus and the Church would've been a great story to stick in there. We only ever see them on the same side and always on good terms. Sometimes Shit Happens and people don't agree. We never get to see tension between them. The only thing even remotely close to "tension" is when Seteth tells Gilbert they can't spare any troops for the Kingdom to fight with in Silver Snow. Even then, it was all very respectful and they had permission to pass.

Also, in Hopes Seteth and Dimitri are closer to being friends since they got more time together and you get more of their opinion on each other (for Dimitri about Seteth it's not directly from him, but Shez mentions it in camp and we hear from Seteth directly about his own opinion). I would love to see a situation in AG where Seteth refuses to abandon the Kingdom after the Church was given shelter and safety. Rhea might not want to help them because of Byleth being killed, but Seteth and Flayn would remain, and any knights very loyal to them who also agree that the Kingdom has done a whole lot for them could also stick around.

I think it would give Rhea a lot to reflect on to have tension between her and Seteth too! Like... she's a character and an important one! Why are there characters less important than her in Houses who are more important than her in Hopes who have more development than she gets in both games combined? She needs conflicts and resolutions, not to be just a flat out enemy or a flat out ally. Even irl, when you have a close friend, sometimes you argue or fight. In Houses, Seteth had some moments where he was suspicious of Rhea but he chose to ultimately believe in her because he knows she's isn't a bad person doing things with malicious intent. She did a bad thing, but it was out of desperation and heartbreak. It was similar to how Dimitri basically lost his mind in Houses. She's been down that road too.

It's just such a shame that there's so much they could do with her and they just... never did. She should've been playable at some point in AG too. There was room in every route to make her more important, and GW also has nothing to do with Rhea overall. You see her like... maybe one or two times tops before the final chapter??? It's just... really lame. How can you make her the final boss of GW but have hardly even shown her throughout the story? It completely banks on your knowledge of Houses and even then doesn't work because Hopes' story is completely different. Claude never seemed to have an opinion one way or another on the Church in Hopes, and he didn't spend enough time at the Academy in Hopes to start having suspicions about Rhea. If they wanted him to have that, I feel like she needed to be a frequent part of the story.

The sad truth is that Heroes is doing Rhea more justice than both games combined ever did. Yikes!

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Light Novel Review — I'm in Love with the Villainess

A stunningly profound, entertaining, and queer title that eclipses other isekai and Yuri series

There are few titles the general public seems to be as excited about as Inori and Hanagata's I'm in Love with the Villainess, as it has been sitting at or near the top of Amazon's LGBT Manga list for months and Twitter is consistently abuzz with the latest news on this isekai Yuri series. I was somewhat more skeptical, as I have had relatively poor experiences with isekai and fantasy Yuri. Still, my excitement went through the room, and I eagerly boarded the "hype train" upon the cover reveal for the third volume. Yuri families, where two women raise children together, are one of my greatest desires and something I rarely see portrayed in the genre. However, I still had mostly low expectations for the series going into the first volume. I looked forward to some light meandering comedy and typical boring trope-filled isekai shenanigans. However, I'm in Love with the Villainess more than exceeded my expectations. No, even this statement is far too moderate to describe how utterly stunned and blown away I was by Inori's creation. I'm in Love with the Villainess is completely shattering and easily one of the greatest light novels I have ever read. Thus, I have no choice to award a perfect 10/10 score, my first ever for a light novel.

After waking up in the world of her favorite otome game, Revolution, protagonist Rae is ecstatic to be faced to face with Claire Francois, the game's villainous rival. However, Rae never played Revolution for the thrill of romancing any of the three attractive young princes. She was always in love with Claire. She attends the academy and studies magic in the fantasy world alongside Claire, the princes, and various other supporting characters. Using her skills from the modern world and her encyclopedic knowledge of Revolution, Rae manipulates the situation to be close to Claire, becoming her maid, and garnering status and money along the way. As an inevitable conflict looms closer, Rea begins to enact plans to protect herself and Claire, many of which are not fully understood or explained until the finale fantastically reveals the reasons for her actions. There is a natural and steady pace to the narrative that awards readers’  predictions and attention to detail.

I'm in Love with the Villainess has some excellent supporting characters, all of whom have unique personalities, histories, and abilities, some of which are revealed by Rae's exposition and others naturally throughout the novel. However, the stars of the show are the central couple, Rae and Claire. Claire is an elite aristocrat and extremely bratty. She often sneers at commoners and makes her disdain of Rae very clear from early on. On paper, she sounds like the perfect villain and someone all readers would despise. However, Rae's utter devotion and infatuation with Claire is so sincere that we cannot help but be pulled in and adore Claire and all her tantrums. Rae is a delight herself, continually flirting and poking fun at Claire, which gets her verbally berated, much to her masochistic pleasure. However, she is also exceptionally cunning and intelligent, and some of the light novel's greatest joys are listening to her analyze a situation or watching one of her plans fall into place.

“Ah, I’m… Well, it doesn’t matter. I mean, it’s irrelevant to cuteness—because, Miss Claire, you are cute.” “Huh?!” She pulled away. It was perfect—such a pure reaction. “Miss Claire, you hate me, right?” “Of course!” “That’s fine. Please keep teasing me. I love it.”

The beginning of the book does not immediately clue one into its brilliance. Sure, Claire and Rea get some great one-liners as they bully each other, and the scenarios are authentic and fun, but it is nothing shattering. I was feeling pretty relaxed and having a lot of fun with the characters, their relationship, and the various slice-of-life style scenarios they encountered until one section, I remember the exact page, 81, as it stopped me dead in my tracks. I was flabbergasted and briefly frozen before shooting up out of bed, shouting expletives as I ran to my office to immediately record what I had just experienced. It all begins with the line, "Hey, Rae. Are you what they call gay?" What followed was one of the most thoughtful, condensed, informative, and nuanced discussions of gay and queer identity (both terms used in this scene) I have ever seen in Yuri. Everything from representation in media, the perceptions of and prejudices against gay people, and the role gender plays in romance for bisexual and gay people are analyzed. Its commentary is succinct yet so respectful and forthright that it could have only come from genuine experience, thus selling the book and its characters so much more.

"Queer people were still overwhelmingly closeted in this world, which was rife with prejudice and nurtured little understanding. As I noted, the queer people depicted in the story were either the sex fiends Claire imagined or the free-loving sort Lene had in mind. Diversity and acceptance were a long way off.”

Thus, Inori's writing's beauty exposed itself, and the book opened itself up to a delightful cycle. The narrative masterfully integrates isekai slice-of-life hijinks, like running a cross-dressing café or battling a giant slime with nuanced and challenging moments that dissect complicated topics. The latter mainly consists of a growing rift between the aristocracy and common people, mirroring real-world wealth gap issues, but the novel also touch on matters such as unequal prison sentencing and segregation. Every scene helped further the complexity of the characters and their relationships or else built onto the world of Revolution. Speaking of which, I'm in Love with the Villainess has some of the best worldbuilding ever seen in a light novel.

Initially, brief exposition establishes much of the world, which is adequate if not exciting. I will mark up to a casualty of the light novel's serialized nature, as it must present readers its setting immediately. However, Inori does not stop here. Through the narrative, new elements are established, such as a magic system and the kingdom's politics. Rea notes and describes how the world, while clearly based on medieval Europe, has many modern Japanese attributes, as Japanese game developers created it. Her pointing out the intersection of the two is fascinating. Furthermore, A great deal of time is spent establishing characters and organizations all have their own wants, agendas, and methods, many of which are not even directly involved with the story. Instead, they act as a background and help further contextualize others. For example, the Church publicly appears to lean towards supporting the commoners in their efforts for equality but has its own agenda of superseding the nobility. While they play little role in Rea and Claire’s adventure, they are one of numerous factors contributing to the unrest of the lower class. All these additions are interesting, and it never feels like the story or characters suffer for their inclusion, quite the opposite.

“The Bauer Kingdom had started a step behind other countries when it came to magical research. They dominated the surrounding countries in military strength, and this had made them complacent, leading them to underestimate the value of new magic technology until the best researchers had all been enticed to other countries. Even after the king came up with his magic-focused meritocratic policy, Bauer lagged behind.”

I can only make complaints by scraping the very bottom of the barrel. Hanagata's beautiful art is too infrequent to add much to the light novel, and many scenes crying for illustrations are left to the readers' imagination. However, Inori so wonderful writes the story that one hardly cares and can easily picture every moment with delight. Besides, the manga adaption will nullify this issue. Where I cannot complain at all is the spectacular translation by Jenn Yamazaki and Nibedita Sen, one of Seven Seas best (which is high praise considering the competition). Sure, I was slightly disappointed at first to see the adaptation left off honorifics, but the more I thought about the setting, the more sense it made. I am sure people much smarter than I gave the issue much more consideration, and I am happy with their decisions.

I'm in Love with the Villainess left me reeling with how pleasurable and powerful it was. The story and characters are such a joy, and I cannot wait to see Rea and Claire bully each other again in the next volume. Astounding worldbuilding and powerful, thought-provoking politics surround their antics and the high stakes plot. Every moment of their journey will enthrall readers as they squeal with glee at its hilarious set pieces or are shocked by its commentary of society's most significant challenges. Inori has created one of the most delightful, heartfelt, complex, profound, and genuinely queer light novel series ever. If you only read one thing I recommend this year, let it be I'm in Love with the Villainess.

Ratings: Story — 9 Characters — 10 Art — 5 LGBTQ — 10 Sexual Content — 2 Final — 10

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase I’m in Love with the Villainess in digitally (9/23) and in print (11/10) today: https://amzn.to/32NEyG1

Supports creators by purchasing official releases.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY 

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official 

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! This chapter introduces some new plots and conflicts, so it jumps around a little more than the previous ones. 

I hope you all enjoy!

I also am having some writer’s block with my Obi-Wan Kenobi miniseries I was working on, so expect Part 3 sometime Sunday hopefully! So sorry for the delay on the final chapter. 

Tags and Requests are OPEN 

Part One // Part Two 

Henry Curtis was one of the most infuriating people Lee had ever met. Curtis was a writer for the Columbus newspaper and constantly pestering the Sheriff. Curtis seemed to have a sixth sense for whenever the Sheriff did anything. He was desperately trying to catch the Sheriff doing anything but so far had remained unsuccessful. Curtis was the biggest obstacle Lee faced in winning re-election. The man would show up out of nowhere, pen and pad in hand ready to find anything that would be enough to keep the Sheriff out of office.

Maybe Curtis was just doing his job, but Lee always felt like it was much more personal. It was probably just his own resentment of the man who was just doing his job. But the man didn’t have to be so goddamn invasive. When the Sheriff had devised his plan on offering to rent a room from you, he was so tied up in his own mess of divorce and his somewhat confusing feelings towards you he had completely forgotten about the press. They would have a field day with the divorce alone, but now on top of everything else, Lee knew he should be more careful.

Lee always had to be careful, especially if he was meeting Leroy Brown. Lee would make sure he drove way out of town, and always insisted they met at a different location every time. This would infuriate Brown but Lee was the only lawman he had working for him. Sometimes Lee would drive several hours out of the way, always at some deserted ghost town or some sad excuse for a diner or a bar. Always somewhere no one would recognize him.

Lee lied to you and told you he and a few of the deputies would need to drive out of town for a stakeout when he needed to meet with Brown. It was one of those nights, sitting in the cruiser with the headlights off, as he parked in an abandoned parking lot almost two hours out of town.

He had been able to put this off for a couple weeks, lying about other legitimate jobs getting in the way. Honestly, it was because he wanted to one, avoid anything that would cause suspicion from Henry Curtis hearing he was back in town and two, he was selfishly allowing himself to just spend his nights at his new home, spending all the time he could manage with you. It was like being in that little white house was a place where he could let himself be delusional, and time spent with you was what his life actually was, not this mess he was currently dealing with. He wanted out.

Lee knew he wasn’t a good man. He knew that his laundry list of offenses had tarnished his badge a long time ago. He knew what he was doing, and before he never cared. Now, he’s thinking about how his actions could affect you. You were innocent, unaware of everything he was stuck in. He knew you weren’t stupid, and he was sure the town knows some about his corruption. But now, he couldn’t rationalize away his actions for any reason when it came to you. Janie? She didn’t care and would encourage it. She’d be in on it too. She’d have no problem lying to ladies at Church or starting other rumors to keep the town talking about anyone but Lee. She was as power hungry as he was sometimes, which could be a testament as to how their loveless marriage held together for so long.

***

“Hi, I’m looking for a Ms. (Y/L/N)?” the man asked when he approached you, talking a seat at one of the barstools.

“Who’s asking for her?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“I’m Henry Curtis, I work for the Columbus Dispatch.”

“The newspaper?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why are you looking for her?”

“I’m doing a story on her mother’s marriage to Harvey Tucker.”

“She’s not here tonight. But I can let her know you were here. Do you got a card?”

The man pulled out a business card from his wallet and slide it across the bar. You picked it up and read all the information before putting it in the pocket of your apron.

“Seems weird for the Columbus paper to want to do a story on that a month and a half after it happened,” you said skeptically.

“We did cover the story when it happened,” Curtis informed you. “Doing a follow up since the story broke about his wife missing.”

“Missing?” you ask. “Do they know what happened?”

“Robbed the bastard blind and then ran apparently,” Curtis said casually looking past you at the chalkboard on the wall. “Scotch, neat.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, grabbing the bottle from the shelf. “Has anything else been found out yet?”

“Not yet, that’s why I’m here. Checking in to see if she’d come back here because I heard Ms. (Y/L/N) still lives around these parts.” He then pulled a newspaper out of the inside pocket of his coat and started flipping through the pages.

“She has another kid too, right?” you asked, playing dumb. “A boy, I think. Do you know where he is?”

“Couldn’t say,” he sounded very indifferent, “Most likely went with her but who knows? I went to the Sheriff’s office to see if they knew anything but the Sheriff wasn’t there.”

“That’s too bad,” you say. “I’m sure Sheriff Bodecker would help you help if he can.”

Your statement made Mr. Curtis chuckle, but you didn’t follow up on it. You were just focusing on getting as much information about your mother and brother as you could.

“Speaking of Mr. Bodecker,” he began, “I recently saw his wife is getting remarried. Saw the announcement of the engagement in the paper.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” you respond, skeptically. You didn’t know why but you didn’t trust this man. It was something in the tone of his voice, or maybe it was just how he held himself. Very polished, a suit and a nice dress jacket. He looked very out of place in this town, and this little bar.

“You familiar with the Sheriff at all, miss?”

“Not too well,” you shrug, “Haven’t had any run-ins with the law myself.”

“Not even a speeding ticket?” He asks, only a little condescendingly.

“Can’t get a speeding ticket if you don’t have a car,” you point out.

“Touché,” he chuckles before taking a sip of his drink.

He doesn’t ask you anymore questions, and when he leaves, he gives you a five-dollar tip.

***

Lee receives his cut from Brown. There was nothing new to report on that front and his meeting went by smoothly. All Lee had to do was to turn a blind eye, and make sure the rest of the department stays unaware of the brothel’s existence. Brown always insisted on meeting with him, wanting to know what the Sheriff’s department was investigating and making sure his businesses stayed under the radar. He felt sick, and is preoccupied with the fact he has an envelope of dirty money in the cruiser’s glovebox.

It’s around midnight when he pulls up to the house. He expects that you’re already asleep, but he notices the lamp is on in the living room. He takes the money out of his glovebox and tucks it away into the inner pocket of his jacket. Coming inside, he finds you on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the business card Mr. Curtis had given you. You face is stained with dried up tears, and you still haven’t even changed out of your work clothes.

“What’s that?” he asks, the sight of you breaking his heart. He winces because he comes off a lot harsher than he meant.

“Some reporter came while I was at work wanting to talk to me,” you explain softly, you sound exhausted. “Wanted to talk to me cause he’s doing a story on my mother. Apparently, she’s on the run from the Columbus police.”

You extend your hand to give Lee the card. He feels his jaw clench when he reads the information. “What happened?” he asks, taking a deep breath and sitting down next to you.

“I pretended I wasn’t me,” you say, another tear rolling down your cheek. “He came in asking for me so I said I’d pass his card on. I didn’t want to tell him who I was because he didn’t explain why he was looking for me at first. I don’t know- just scared me. I’m more upset about the news itself than him.”

“You did the right thing,” Lee said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. He was angry, but he didn’t show it. It worried him, fucking Curtis snooping around this close to you. It made him feel protective, wanting to shield you from the whole ordeal. He had been on the receiving end of unsolicited attention from the press and he knew how ruthless they were. He knew this wouldn’t be the only time Curtis would try to get in touch with you. He’d find out where you lived, he’d continue to show up while you were working- the whole nine yards. He didn’t want you going through that.

Curtis talking to you also made him incredibly paranoid. It was his two worlds that he desperately wanted to keep apart were colliding. He knew it was impossible, but he so wanted to keep you separated from the other part of his life. It wasn’t who he wanted you to see. Hell, he hasn’t even been here for a month. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep you in the dark, at least that wasn’t entirely intentional. Actually, he wasn’t sure, maybe it was intentional. However, it wasn’t just you he wanted to hide aspects of his life from. He wanted his involvement with Brown and others hidden from every goddamn registered voter. You were no different, he tried to rationalize. But that wasn’t true. These feelings he harbored for you, were getting worse. He needed to unwrap himself from this situation, and for the sake of you finding out he was a shill, keep you away from that asshole. He didn’t want to let himself think about how the way you look at him would change.

And here he was, making the situation all about him. It was in his nature.

“He’s just going to show up again if I don’t call him,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Maybe I should just call him in the morning. Just be honest and say I don’t know anything. He can keep coming around but nothing is going to change.”

“I can take care of it,” he says. He couldn’t risk you talking to Curtis again. For all he knows, Curtis would tell you all about the story on the Sheriff he’d been trying to confirm for years. Lee knew he couldn’t let that happen. He fully intends on telling you, but how the hell do you bring that up? ‘Hey doll, I’m also on the payroll of every pimp and bootlegger in a ten-mile radius, just letting you know.’ It wasn’t going to come up, unless Curtis tells you about it. He’d be hoping to pull himself out if it, show you how you made him want to be better.

For now, he settles for comforting you, and just being there to take care of you. Make you feel better. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and lets you cry into his chest. He sighs, kissing the top of your head in a friendly way and you curl up against him. Under different circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have let yourself do this- show your vulnerability or allow anyone to comfort you like this. But it was all the events of the past month, your mother leaving, everything, just all hitting you at once, and you were happy you weren’t alone.

In the morning, you wake up on the couch with a blanket over you. You see Lee asleep in the chair, and you realize he stayed with you all night. It makes your heart flutter. You pull the blanket up over your chin and close your eyes again. You felt surprisingly well rested. The stress and worry were pushed to the back of your mind long enough to let you get some sleep. It still lingered in the back of your mind, but you reminded yourself that for now, there was nothing you could do. You had the day off, and you let yourself have a little longer time to sleep in.

You woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of sizzling on the stove. When you opened your eyes, Lee was no longer in the chair. You sat up and looked toward the kitchen, where you saw Lee with his back to you while he worked with the pans on top of the stove. The portable radio was positioned on the counter, and it was playing at a low volume, so it wouldn’t wake you up.

“Hey,” you say softly, still waking up as you walk into the kitchen.

“Morning, doll,” he says, glancing back at you for a moment. “How’re you feeling?”

“A little better,” you admit, grabbing a mug for yourself out of the cabinet. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the smell before making it how you usually take it. “Thank you for sitting with me,” you say honestly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he says with a small grin. “I just wanted to help.”

“I really appreciate it, Lee,” you reiterate your thanks, hopping up to take a seat on the counter, watching him cook breakfast. “Didn’t know you knew how to cook,” you joke, making him chuckle.

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart,” he smirks, making you feel flushed. You take another drawn out sip of your coffee to try to distract yourself. You watch his arms, and his hands as they maneuver and flex when he cooks. You imagine how they must feel, your eyes focused on the veins. You bit your lip and it reminds you of the dream you had a little while back when he first moved in. You imagine him stepping in between your legs as your propped up on the counter, his hands gently gripping your thighs and-

“I’ll get it,” you announce hurriedly as you hear someone knock on the front door. You hop off the counter careful to not spill your coffee, and head to answer the door. Lee watches you bounce out of the room, fixing your hair as you go and you don’t catch his smile.

“Arvin,” you say surprised, stepping out onto the porch. “What are you doing here?” you ask, with a small grin. You’re confused but nonetheless happy to see him.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” he observes, concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say dismissively, “Just last night I was thinking about my ma and everything. Just had trouble sleeping is all.”

“The Sheriff didn’t do anything?” Arvin asked in a hushed tone, looking over your shoulder to see if Lee could hear you two.

“No, nothing, he’s been perfectly fine,” you say coming to the Sheriff’s defense. “I know you and Ms. Russell are worried, I know how it must look- but Arvin I swear he’s just my tenant. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.”

“Just making sure,” he says, letting it go for now. “Lenora asked me to bring these by for you.” He hands you the glass baking dish that you can see is filled with homemade cinnamon rolls. “She’s been practicing making all kinds of baked goods for when the Church does that bake sale and has me running all over town giving it away cause me and Uncle Earskell can’t keep up with it all.”

“Tell her thank you for me,” you say with a smile, “And I’ll bring the dish with me to Church tomorrow- give it back to her.”

“She misses you I think,” Arvin says sheepishly, pushing his hands into his front pockets. “I mean- I do- I think my whole family does- we all do. I’m sorry my grandmother hasn’t asked you over in a while…”

“I understand,” you nod. “Reputation is an important thing.”

“I just didn’t want you to think it was because of us,” he says looking down at the porch, his eyes fixed on a loose board. “You know how she is- everything no matter the context is somehow a sin. Scared to death of her own shadow…”

“I know you’re not that resentful, Arvin Russell,” you chuckle and he relaxes. “And I don’t hold any hard feelings towards anyone in your family- you all have always been good to me.”

“Well, um,” he says awkwardly, looking like he was holding back from saying more. “I got to hit a couple more houses before I head to work, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at Church?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Oh- I wanted to let you know,” he says, turning around as he’s already heading down the front steps, “The principal down at the high school is looking for secretaries- Lenora heard and thought you might be interested. It pays like $35 a week, I think. You should call Linda Carson; I think Lenora said- that’s the woman who’s in charge of hiring people, I think.”

“I’ll call the school first thing Monday morning,” you say, grin stretching from ear to ear. Arvin nods and says goodbye again. You walk back into the house like you’re on top of the world. You couldn’t contain your excitement. That job if you could get it would be a dream. You’d be making so much more than you’re already making. You were so excited.

“You’re in a much better mood than when I last saw you,” Lee jokes. He’s sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper while he eats his breakfast. You notice that he made you a table setting- brought your coffee over and everything. You place the baking dish in the middle of the table and sit down.

“That was Arvin,” you say happily, and Lee feels his heart sink into his stomach.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, trying to not let on how his heart feels like it’s crushed. He knew it was only a matter of time before a boy would come around- whether it be Arvin or someone else your own age.

“Well, first he was just dropping off baked goods Lenora made,” you say gesturing to the dish on the table. “He’s going around to everybody, I guess. He mentioned the high school is looking for office secretaries- Lenora wanted me to know. Thirty-five dollars a week! I’m going to talk to Linda Carson about it Monday morning. Can you imagine? I could get a secretary job.”

Lee feels just a crash of relief wash over him. He’s so happy that you are looking at a new job. You deserve better than that bar. He knew you deserved the job just as much as any of the other candidates. You work harder than anyone he knows.

“That’s fantastic, sugar,” he replies. “You deserve it.”

“Do you think I have a chance?” you ask, feeling a little self-conscious- you knew you weren’t as experienced as other candidates would be for sure.

“Of course, I do,” he says, putting down the paper to give you his full attention. “I feel like you getting this job is a definite. There’s no doubt about it.”

“You’re just buttering me up,” you scoff, finishing up your food, making him chuckle. You may have also seen his cheeks redden, but you couldn’t say for sure. You finish off your coffee, and then bring you dishes back to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink. Lee turns his attention back to his newspaper and you head upstairs to get ready for your day.

When you head upstairs, Lee notices that you took the radio with you- and he could hear you were listening to music from upstairs. He decides before it’s too late to ring Mark Cunningham. The line rings a couple of times before Mark answers.

“Cunningham.”

“Morning, Mark. It’s Sheriff Bodecker,” he smirks.

“What can I do for you Sheriff?” he asks, the sound of shuffling paper comes through as well. Most likely flipping through the paper.

“I wanna call in that favor you owe me,” he says, casually pacing the living room, holding the receiver up to his ear and the base of the rotary phone in the other.

“Of course, Sheriff,” he says. A while back, Bodecker busted the principal making moonshine in his old barn that was at the end of his property. Lee looked the other way and was waiting for the right thing to call in a favor for.

“I want you to hire (Y/N) (Y/L/N) for the secretary job,” he says, looking to the stairs, making sure you aren’t coming. The music is still playing loudly from upstairs so he determines he’s still got time.

“That’s all?” Mark asked surprised.

“That’s all I want from you,” Lee replies. “I expect you can make that happen?”

“Without a doubt. When can she start?”

“Still have her come in for an interview. I don’t anyone else knowing I called you about this- including her.”

“Done.”

With that, Lee hangs up the phone, feeling really good about this decision. He knew how much that job meant to you- he could see it in your eyes and how excitedly you talked about it. He can’t wait to see you when you find out you get the position. He knows it’s going to make you so happy. He knows you’d be a fantastic candidate, but this just eliminates any doubt. He reasons that there isn’t much difference, since you were very likely to get it anyways. He just had to make sure.

He can picture you know, coming home from the interview- excited to tell him that you got the job. You’d be so excited you’d jump up and hug him tightly, just so overjoyed that you let your feelings take over. You’d wrap your legs and around his waist and he’d hold you up by holding the back of your thighs. You’d wrap your arms tightly around him and bury your head in the crook of his neck. You’d lift your head up to look at him, embarrassed at your actions and then he’d press his lips to yours. You’d gasp softly, but your lips would melt against his own and your arms would wrap tightly around his neck. He’d walk forward, pressing you up against the wall and he’d kiss your neck mumbling praises of congratulations against your skin as his name falls from your lips at how good he’d make you feel. It’s almost unbearable how bad he wants you.

He heads to him room to get ready for his day, but his mind is still clouded with thoughts of you. He thinks about how much he wants nothing more that to just pin you on his mattress. He wonders if you know how crazy you make him. Sometimes there’s something in your eye that makes him think you want him too, but he’s not sure. His better judgement holds him back from everything he wants to do. He thinks about how it must feel to have his head right in-between your thighs. Back in the kitchen together, he wanted to just get on his knees and worship you. The feeling of them pressing against him as he sucks on your clit and runs his tongue across your folds.

Serval hours later, he can’t shake the thoughts, even sitting in his office at the sheriff’s station- working on a Saturday yet again. He’s cooped up in his office, unable to get through any of the paperwork that has piled up on his desk. He’s thinking about you, again, but in this daydream, you’re bent over his desk- because you came by to see him on your break from work at the school. His office door locked and his blinds pulled so he can bend you over and take you right there- rough and fast, sending you back to work with a feeling of him still there between your legs well after you’re back at your own desk, still sore from the encounter.

“You got a visitor, Lee,” the intercom on his desk lights up.

“Send ‘em in,” he responds back, shaking his head to snap out of it. He needed to get a grip.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you say, walking into his office. His eyes widen and he wonders if he’s still day dreaming. He discreetly pinches himself. You’re actually here, standing in his office, while he looks at you dumbfounded. Part of him would think he manifested it if he was a man of any faith. “You forgot this,” you say, putting his wallet on the desk. “You must have taken it out of your back pocket before falling asleep in the chair last night. It was laying on the coffee table. I figured I’d stop by with it while I was coming up this way anyways.”  

“You’re a doll,” he grins, putting his wallet in his back pocket. “What are you doing?”

“I took the bus to the library to return some books, and now I’m going shopping for something to wear when I go in for an interview since I have the day off to go,” you explain. “I’m also probably going to get lunch after that before heading back home. I just didn’t want to be home in case that reporter stopped by. I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

“I can take care of it,” he says, “He’ll make his way over here soon enough. I can talk to him.”

“You would do that for me?” you ask, the relief evident across your whole face.

“Yeah, I can talk to him, let him know you gave a statement here,” he says. You nod. “You know as much as he does, so it doesn’t matter if I tell him you don’t know shit or if you tell him.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you sigh, so relieved thinking that you won’t have to hear from Henry Curtis again. “If he tells you anything about them… will you let me know?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you say, hurriedly walking over behind him and quickly hugging his shoulders. You then are back by the door again before he can register the gesture. “Are you going to be home tonight?” you ask, your hand on the doorknob.

“Not until late,” he says reluctantly, and he can see the disappointment on your face- unless his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Okay,” you say finally, “Um, I’ll see you later then.”

“Bye, doll,” he says when you walk out of his office.

Are you going to be home tonight? Your voice lingers in his head. It was such a harmless phrase that could’ve just been one of curiosity. Maybe you were just asking because you were thinking about what you were doing for dinner. It most likely just meant nothing. But, the look on your face when he said no makes him think otherwise. Did it mean you cared? That you wanted to spend time with him? You wanted to see him and be with him as desperately as he needed you perhaps? Just the phrasing itself makes his brain feel like putty. It’s like you’re waiting up for him. It’s like you share the house in a way that’s much more than just him renting a room from you. It’s like you’re his and he’s yours. It’s like saying our house… our home. The question was so intimate and implied so much more about how you saw him and what he was to you. He knew seeing him as how he saw you was next to impossible, but you saw him as more than the Sheriff and more than just the jerk living in your house.

Part Four

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[augustmoon259]

"Unholy Blood" Pureblood!Fem!Vampire Reader x Hayan Park

Ten years ago, people who could transform into vampires began to appear in Korea. Ever since then, these morphing vampires have been slaughtering people while hiding their true identities. But there's something that people don't know. A secret, that if it got out, would change the world and the way that people saw vampires forever.

Pureblood vampires. Vampires who are stronger, faster, and more powerful in every way. How do I know about them? Because I am a pureblood vampire.

o - o - o - o - o

My parents were both pureblood vampires. They used to live in Korea, before they had me. They decided to move to the US and settle down in a small town.

My life was a peaceful one. Sure, it was hard trying to hide my identity as a vampire, but it wasn't that bad. I was homeschooled, up until I was ready to go off to college.

College was a new experience for me. I had fun making new friends, taking classes taught by different teachers, and being in a new environment. I went home to visit my parents during breaks.

I wish I had gotten to say goodbye to them, if I knew that I'd never be able to see them again.

o - o - o - o - o

It was winter break. I was excited to see my parents again and spend time with them during the holidays. I had plans for movies we could watch together, games we could play, and more.

The bus stopped in my neighborhood, and I got off, still brimming with anticipation. That is, until I saw the smoke.

The smoke was coming from the direction of my family's home. I ran there as fast as I could. When I got there, I saw the firefighters putting out the last of the flames.

Our house was a complete wreck. I frantically rushed past the onlookers and firefighters to dig through the rubble, and search for my parents. I was dragged away, still screaming and sobbing.

Later, the police told me about what had happened. It was reported that two explosions were heard from our house, and then a fire started not long after. The firefighters were dispatched, but it still took a while for them to get from the station to our house. They found my parents' bodies, unrecognizable as they were.

The explosions were written off as gas leaks, since our house was an old one. This may have been a reasonable explanation to anyone else, but not me. I knew better.

We were pureblood vampires.

Any regular vampire that manages to consume the heart of a pureblood vampire would become a pureblood vampire themself. We knew this, but we thought we were safe here in the US, when vampires began to appear in Korea ten years ago.

My parents must have sacrificed themselves to destroy their hearts, along with their attackers.

Our mailbox still had some mail in it. Bills to pay, letters for my parents, and letters for me as well. I expected this. What I was not expecting was the note left in the mailbox, addressed to me.

If you want revenge for your parents' deaths, come to Korea.

I crushed the note in my hand.

Whoever came after my parents didn't succeed, but it cost my parents their lives. Now they're after me. They know I exist.

Fine. If they think I'll be easy prey, I'll prove them wrong.

o - o - o - o - o

Living in Korea was different from living in the States.

I had applied to study abroad, and the university I applied for was Hanguk University. I managed to rent an apartment at a decent price in a modest neighborhood. I heard that there was a nice church in the area, run by a priest who also takes care of orphans from the nearby orphanage.

It was hard enough adjusting to life in another country, never mind one where bloodthirsty monsters come out at night. Lucky for me, I had the distinct advantage of being one of those "monsters".

Admittedly, not only did I feel guilty for not being able to prevent my parents' deaths, I realized what a privileged life I had been living. All my life, just on the other side of the world, there were innocent people being terrorized by vampires.

But now I'm here, and I have the power to do something about it.

I'd find whoever was responsible for my parents' murders, and I'll rid the world of vampires, one bastard at a time.

Between going out at night to kill vampires, and scrounging up information about their secret hierarchy and criminal underworld, I was also busy with my normal, "human" life.

I attended the orientation for my new university.

Yet it wasn't at the orientation that I'd meet the woman who'd change my life.

o - o - o - o - o

The first day of school was always the same: new students rushing to find their classes, old students saying hi to their friends, and teachers making note of who to look out for that year.

I greeted a few people I had met at the orientation, but there was one girl who was going around greeting...everyone. She was quite pretty, with dark brown hair and eyes.

She was so enthusiastic, bowing her head at every person she came across, that I couldn't help but smile.

With her friendly demeanor, I was sure she'd already have made plenty of friends, but I noticed later that she had no one to sit at lunch with. I myself was sitting alone, but that was of my own volition. I debated whether or not to go to her table and sit with her, but I opted not to, in the end.

Over the next few days, I kept seeing her around. She still greeted everyone cheerfully, and had earned the nickname "Miss Popular" around campus. I found it very fitting for her.

Things continued on like this. Her, greeting everyone with enthusiasm but sitting alone. Me, silently watching her.

I decided that I had done enough observing, and that it was time to formally meet her.

Bringing my lunch with me over to her table, I sat across from her. She had started eating her lunch by then, so when I unexpectedly arrived at her table, she choked on her food.

"Hey! Hey, are you okay?!"

I got up from my seat, prepared to do the Heimlich maneuver if necessary, but she waved a hand to stop me, and grabbed a nearby water bottle with the other hand to drink. She beat her chest a few times until she was no longer gasping, and I sat down when I confirmed that she was fine. Other people who had noticed the incident went back to eating their lunches.

We sat there, awkwardly gazing at each other, until she groaned and covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

"Nice going Hayan...first person who decides to sit with you at lunch, and you make a fool of yourself..."

"Oh no, that was my fault! I'm sorry for surprising you like that...so, uh, your name is Hayan?"

Hayan took one hand off her face, before slowly removing her remaining hand.

"Yes, my name is Hayan...Park Hayan."

I introduced myself, and then we...shook hands. I decided to start a new topic of conversation, before Hayan had an existential crisis.

"Hayan...is it alright if I call you Hayan?"

She nodded her head affirmatively before waiting for what else I had to say.

"I hope this isn't out of line for me to say, but I've sort of been watching you for a while now. I notice that you always say hi to everyone, but you're still sitting alone at lunch? Um, Hayan, do you have friends?"

Hayan looked taken aback for a moment, before hanging her head in shame.

"It's...it's complicated? I've been trying to make friends, and since I didn't attend the orientation, I thought saying hi to everyone would be a surefire way to meet new people, but I haven't had much luck..."

"You didn't attend the orientation? So that's why I didn't recognize you. Hayan, if you're trying to make new friends, would you...like to be friends?"

"Seriously?! I mean, how could I reject?!"

Hayan enthusiastically slammed her hands on the table and jumped up, before sheepishly sitting back down when she noticed people's curious glances.

"Yes! Let's be friends!"

I talked with Hayan until lunch was over, and it turned out that we had a lot in common. Neither Hayan nor I were able to finish our lunches, busy as we were with chatting with each other. We decided to exchange phone numbers to keep in touch with each other.

After that, I wasn't occupied with just school and my nighttime activities. I hung out with Hayan outside of school. We went to cafes and coffee shops to get drinks and spend more time with each other.

She and I were the same age: twenty. When I applied to Hanguk University, I had to apply as a freshman, since not all of my credits from my previous college transferred over.

Hayan was looking forward to a get together that some seniors had organized at a pub. Students from every year would be there, and she hoped to meet other freshman besides me. I wasn't one for drinking, since vampires couldn't get drunk anyway, but I decided to go for Hayan's sake.

Gatherings of college students tend to go south pretty quickly, but it was what happened after that was a disaster.

o - o - o - o - o

The pub was crowded, noisy, and filled with the laughter and shouting of overexcited young adults.

I sat down at a random table with Hayan. When we sat down, I heard someone suggest a drinking game to lighten the mood. Next thing I knew, we were all pointing fingers at each other, and Hayan was the unfortunate person chosen to drink.

Two hours and several more drinking games later, Hayan was still unsuccessful at making another friend. I was surprised to note that Hayan was not a lightweight at all. She had drunk nearly twenty bottles of soju by herself! And If I was being honest with myself, I thought that made her even more amazing than she already was.

"Hayan, do you want to go home now?"

"Ah, yeah, I guess so...It seems my latest plan to make friends failed..."

In my head, I could see the comical tears of defeat in her eyes.

Hayan got up and grabbed her bag, but before we left the pub, a senior announced one last drinking competition. It was between a heavyset senior named Jang and anyone who dared to challenge him. If no one won, the freshman had to show off a talent during our start of year trip.

I knew what was coming before anyone else. I decided to take bets, and when the drinking match was over, I made a nice one hundred thousand won from people who had bet Hayan would lose.

Actually, calling it a "match" would be wrong. It was so one-sided, I almost felt bad for Jang.

Hayan finally got her wish granted. I saw two freshman asking Hayan for her number to join their study group. As I looked at Hayan's giddy face, and the admiring expressions of everyone else around us, I felt happy for Hayan.

Just when Hayan was making a toast to her victory, the sirens went off.

The joy of everyone around us immediately died out, to be replaced with worry and fear instead.

People scrambled to gather their belongings and leave the pub, and I hurried over to Hayan's side.

"Come on, Hayan. We'd better go. The sirens mean that vampires will be out soon..."

"Right! Um, let's go!"

We left the pub, prepared to follow everyone else in order to catch the last bus.

"Hayan! Let me walk you home!"

Before I knew what was happening, there was a random guy standing in front of Hayan. He completely ignored me. If that wasn't enough to piss me off, his condescending smirk and the arrogant way he held himself did. Let me guess, this guy's one of those idiots who try to act macho in front of girls to impress them.

"Um, no thank you. I already have a friend I'm walking home with..."

"A friend? Sure you do. Come on, what are you so afraid of? Me?"

"Hey buster, back off. She already said she's got someone to walk home with!"

I shoved him away. As he recovered from my unexpected interference, he quickly masked his anger with the same infuriating smirk. He gave me a once over, before his smirk widened.

"So this must be the friend you mentioned. Well, I can always walk you both home."

Great. Just great. Not only is he wasting our precious time, he's hitting on Hayan and me.

"Tch. Fine. Clearly you're invested in walking with us, for some unfathomable reason, so I'll deign to let you join us, but only if I'm between you and Hayan."

He seemed to be more interested in Hayan than me, so I thought putting myself between her and him would get him to stop talking. Instead, he kept blabbering on about how vampires are no big deal, and there's nothing to worry about.

He's extremely lucky that we finally made it to the bus stop. Otherwise, I might have punched him.

There were some people running to get on��the bus before it left. The annoying guy was still flirting with Hayan, but my attention was diverted when I heard a crash. The three of us turned our heads toward the source of the noise.

It was a man who had been thrown on the ground. The other man standing above him was obviously a gangster, a loan shark out to collect his debt. My intuition told me something bad was going to happen, and not because of the loan shark.

Sometimes, I hate being right.

It happened faster than the human eye could see, but I could discern perfectly with my vision. The man on the ground thrust his arm straight through the loan shark's chest.

As he stood up and shoved the now dead body off himself, the vampire walked closer step by step to Hayan and I. The annoying senior had long run away. He really was just a coward in the end. I would deal with him tomorrow. Right now, I had bigger things to worry about.

Normally, I'd just transform and then kill this no-name vampire, but I had to worry about Hayan. She was digging through her bag, looking for something. If only the bus was still around. Then Hayan could have run away and escaped.

I made a split second decision.

"Hayan. Listen to me. Run away as far as you can and don't look back."

"What? But, what about you? I can't leave you here alone!"

"Damn it Hayan, please just run away!"

"And where do you think you're going, bitch?!"

The vampire lunged towards Hayan and grabbed her hair. Before he could bite her, I transformed and slammed him to the ground. I smashed his head in, and watched as his body scattered into dust.

With the immediate threat out of the way, I checked on Hayan. She had fallen on the ground when the vampire let go of her hair. I helped her as she stood up weakly. Hayan blinked, as she alternated between looking at the crater where the vampire used to be, and me. I spread my arms out to either side, and gazed steadily back at her.

"This is me. This is who I really am. I'm a vampire, a monster that people want dead. Hayan...do you hate me too?"

I waited with bated breath for her answer. The truth is, I could erase her memories. Make it so she never remembered what happened this night. But I didn't want to.

Ever since my parents died, I had no one else who knew the truth of who I really was. I was good at pretending. I've been doing it my whole life. But I needed just one person I didn't have to pretend with, and I hoped that person could be Hayan.

Hayan studied my white hair and blue eyes. She looked pensive.

"No...no I don't hate you. Because you're my friend."

She hugged me, and if I noticed that her hold was tighter than normal, I didn't mention it.

"Hayan...thank you."

I hugged her back.

We remained like that for a while, until I offered to take her home.

"Wait, you want to...you want to carry me?! In-in your arms?!"

"Well, yes. I could also give you a piggyback ride, but since I'll be running and jumping on rooftops, this should be more comfortable for you."

"O-okay."

Putting one arm under Hayan's legs, and the other supporting her back, I made sure Hayan was securely in my hold when I leapt from the ground. Hayan kept her eyes closed the entire time, until I landed with a thump in front of the church.

"Good night, Hayan."

I smiled softly and gave Hayan a small wave, before hurrying home.

o - o - o - o - o

Hayan and I grew closer after that night.

Since I no longer had to pretend I was human around her, I invited her over to my apartment, and vice versa. She introduced me to her "father" and her "siblings".

"It's nice to meet you sir. I mean, Father Michael. Um, Father-Michael-sir?"

As it turns out, Hayan was an orphan. I knew she lived in the same neighborhood as me, but not at the orphanage next to the church that I heard about when I first rented my apartment. The neighborhood ladies were always giggling about Father Michael, but he was more intimidating in person, even to a pureblood vampire like me.

"At ease. You're the friend Hayan has been talking about?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Hayan was fighting back laughter behind me, while I kept on sweating nervously.

"It's good she has a friend like you."

"Thank you, Father!"

I barely held back a sigh of relief that I seemed to make a good impression on Hayan's adoptive father. It was time to meet the younger siblings now.

"Woah! This is all for us?!"

Hayan's adoptive siblings, Yerim and Yunsu, bounced around eagerly when they saw I had brought bread for them. Hayan told me her siblings really loved bread, especially sticky rice bread. I had bought a couple for them from the school dining hall, and then went to a bakery to buy some more bread (mochi, sesame, tapioca, etc.) Since I couldn't eat any of it myself, I bought what was recommended to me by the baker, and hoped for the best.

"Hayan! You need to bring your friend by more often!"

"You are my new favorite person!"

"I thought I was your favorite person?!"

I chuckled as Hayan chased her siblings around in order to catch them and tickle them.

Hayan has such a lovely family. It's no wonder she's also a lovely person.

o - o - o - o - o

It was a normal evening at the university. I had stayed behind at school to work on homework and assignments with some classmates.

The student body was abuzz today with new gossip about the "super senior". He was the senior who had entered college nine years ago, and still had yet to graduate. This was none of my business. What was my business was that he was rude and a bully. In fact, just that afternoon, he had bumped into Hayan and insulted her instead of apologizing. If I saw him, I'd give him a piece of my mind, regardless if his family was well off or not.

After finishing our assignments, I accompanied my classmates on their way to get the last shuttle bus. To my displeasure, we had the misfortune of running into the aforementioned "super senior" Byungsu.

My classmates greeted him, but when he gave them no reply, they said goodbye to me and ran off to catch the bus.

I noticed that he seemed to be in a daze. Hayan did tell me that it seemed like he was sick, and looking at him now, I could tell that she was speaking the truth. Regardless of any beef I had with him, if he was feeling unwell, he should go see a doctor.

"Hey, Byungsu. Do you need to go to the hospital?"

He didn't answer, instead just glaring at me, and clenching his fists. Whatever was going through his mind at that moment was not pleasant. I wanted to ask him more questions, but we were interrupted by a man on the phone.

It was Professor Donggyu Park. He was not one of my professors, but Hayan said he's one of her favorites. He's very dedicated to his job, has memorized all of his students' names, and even speaks to students on days he doesn't teach. It looked like he was in a hurry to get home, judging by how he greeted us quickly and then got into his car.

I was too late to stop what happened next.

Byungsu threw Professor Park's car into the air. It flipped over and landed on its top with a crash. I dashed toward the car to check on Professor Park. He was bleeding from his head and unconscious, but he was still alive.

I was the one who was clenching my fists this time. Well, I had the perfect target to vent my anger out on.

This side of the school was deserted at this time of the night, and the security cameras were down for maintenance today. With no one watching me, I could kill Byungsu.

He was heading this way, no doubt to murder the professor.

I opened the car door, gently took Professor Park out, and placed him on the ground. Then I transformed.

"What the fuck, you're a vampire too?"

"Shut up. You won't be alive for long anyway."

My hand was enveloped in blue flames as I disappeared and then reappeared in front of Byungsu. I grabbed his face, and watched as it melted away. The fire burned everything and left nothing behind, not even ashes.

After de-transforming, I performed first aid on Professor Park and called 119.

When the ambulance arrived, I was questioned by police officers about what had happened. I told them the fake story I made up: I was with some classmates on their way to catch the last bus home, and then we ran into Byungsu. I went back inside the university to get something I had forgotten. When I came back outside, I saw Professor Park's car turned over and him inside unconscious.

I was held in questioning until the police contacted my classmates to confirm I was with them. Professor Park woke up after receiving emergency medical attention, and told the police he had also seen Byungsu. That, coupled with the sudden emergence of footage showing Byungsu had caused a traffic accident and killed the victims, all but cemented the fact that Byungsu the vampire had attacked Professor Park.

Byungsu was put on the national wanted list, and around campus people started calling me "The Lifesaver".

o - o - o - o - o

To recap, since school started, I became friends with Hayan, saved her from a vampire by revealing my secret, met Father Michael and Hayan's younger siblings, and also saved another person from a vampire attack.

My life in Korea had been extremely eventful, and it only became more so with the introduction of Detective Euntae Hwang.

It was another day at the university, and there were students outside of the school protesting the recent vampire attacks. I was irritated, but I could also understand where they were coming from. Recent examples like Byungsu had shown that it was all too easy for vampires to hide on campus.

I was with Hayan, and the two other freshman she had met at the pub.

"Excuse me, are you Hayan Park?"

We all turned around to see a handsome red haired man. I looked at Hayan, and from her reaction, she recognized him.

"Hayan," I whispered to her, "you know this man?"

"Yes," she whispered back, "he saved me and my siblings from gangsters this one time."

Well, if he helped Hayan, he could be a good person, but he could also be faking it...

"Oh, and you must be the other person I'm looking for!"

I pointed at myself in surprise. "Me?"

"Yes, you! Let me introduce myself..."

He smiled, before proceeding to tell us all how about how he graduated from the police academy at the top of his class...and how he was made captain of the criminal investigations unit...and how he was the superstar of the vampire task force....and...

I sighed and facepalmed.

"We get it, you're a detective. Please, we don't need to hear your entire life story..."

"Oh, silly me! I chattered on for too long, huh?"

Hayan's friends said goodbye before leaving us with the detective, blushes still present on their faces. As Hayan and I walked to the dining hall with the detective to continue our conversation with him, I noticed a lot of attention on us. Or rather, the detective.

By the time we got to our destination, Hayan and I had begrudgingly learned more about him.

He wasn't kidding when he said he was an expert about vampires. He had even invented a method to kill vampires: paralyzing them and then burning them alive in a furnace. To create such a brutal method, this man...he was dangerous.

I was on my guard while waiting for what else he had to say. He had ordered an entire table's worth of food, while I ordered drinks for Hayan and I. He insisted on buying food for us as well, but I rejected him quite firmly.

The detective, Euntae Hwang as he called himself, asked us about the vampire who had killed the loan shark. Apparently, that was what Detective Hwang was investigating. The police were trying to figure out how the vampire died, and if it was related to the recent case of Byungsu...

I could tell that Hayan was nervous around the detective. He must be bringing up bad memories of the vampire attack.

Detective Hwang didn't let up in his interrogation though. If anything, he got more extreme. Did he suspect Hayan and I were vampires? Well, that wouldn't do. I pondered how to get out of this mess, when something unexpected happened.

The detective cut his hand with the knife he was using for his food.

It was quite a deep cut, and the blood flowed steadily from the wound.

"Ouch! I cut myself! I guess my fingers were too tense..."

Was he that desperate to reveal us as vampires? I'm glad I had the foresight to order a drink, so that I had something else to focus on instead of the blood. But it made me upset that Hayan seemed to look even more uncomfortable now.

"Detective, why don't you go to the nurse's office and get a bandage for that cut?"

"Are you sure? I can always get a bandage at the police station..."

"No, no, you should definitely go and get that checked out. The sooner the better."

"Alright then. I suppose this is goodbye for now."

'For now?' I hope that's 'forever' instead. The detective left after packing up the rest of his food, and I wanted Hayan and I to go home as quickly as possible, but Hayan insisted on buying some sticky rice bread for her siblings. I was going to object, but caved after Hayan gave me her best pair of puppy dog eyes.

The line for the baked goods was long today. We waited for a while, until we finally bought the bread and left the dining hall. But, we ran into the detective on our way out.

"Hey, we meet again!"

I facepalmed, for a different reason this time.

"Yayyyy...so glad we keep running into each other."

If he noticed my sarcasm, the detective didn't comment on it.

"Well, we'd love to stay and chat more, but Hayan has to go home and take care of her very sick siblings..."

"Huh? But my siblings aren't -"

"Yep! Very sick! Oh the poor little ones!"

I grabbed Hayan's hand and we speed walked away from the detective...

....

....

"It's time for us to takes matters into our own hands! Let's prove that we're not vampires!"

Damn it.

The protestors from earlier were now cutting people in order to prove that they weren't vampires. It was chaos all around us. Some students were willing, but most thought that the student council protestors were taking it too far. I thought about going back inside and waiting for the chaos to die down. There had to be teachers who would stop this madness, right?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back to see it was Detective Hwang.

He leaned down to whisper to Hayan and I, "Just start walking." So we did exactly that, until we were stopped.

The student council members were blocking our path.

"Have you done the test to prove you're not a vampire?"

They weren't backing down. Hayan raised a complaint, but that only seemed to make them angrier. One of them grabbed Hayan's wrist, and I prepared to brush it off, but when he pulled back Hayan's sleeve, we all saw the bandage on her arm.

It was still wet with blood.

But whose? Is it...the detective's? From when he cut his hand earlier with the knife? When and how did he get the bandage onto Hayan's arm?

"You see? We already did it. Do you need more proof?"

Detective Hwang was calm and collected as he slid Hayan's sleeve back down. That should have been the end of the matter, but a new obstacle stood in our way: the student council leader.

"She could have gotten that bandage anywhere. I wasn't able to see her do the test, so I need her to do it again."

This was getting ridiculous.

The student council leader made a go at grabbing Hayan's arm again, but Detective Hwang caught him midair.

"It's a crime to go around using a blade on people against their will. Unless you want to be charged, I suggest stopping."

He flashed his police ID at the student council members, which was finally enough to get them to leave us alone. The three of us were able to get away from campus unimpeded.

I was reluctantly grateful for the detective. Hayan and I could have waited inside the university, but then the council members would have kept accosting other students outside. With the threat of police intervention, they'd be unlikely to continue.

"Thank you...Detective Hwang."

"Oh please, call me Captain."

"...Captain Hwang."

He added his number to Hayan and I's contacts, before the three of us parted ways.

o - o - o - o - o

I had gotten a text from Hayan.

I...I need you. Please...please come. I'm sitting in front of the pizza restaurant...

I knew exactly where Hayan was referring to. I grabbed my umbrella and my rain jacket, before quickly heading out to find Hayan. I had no idea why she'd send me such a strange text, but whatever the reason, it sounded urgent.

The rain was pouring, and Hayan was absolutely soaked.

"Hayan! You're going to get sick like that!"

I gave Hayan my umbrella to hold, while I went into the nearest store to buy a towel for Hayan. I came back out and gave her the towel to dry off while still holding onto the umbrella. After she finished drying off, Hayan looked...dejected.

"Can you tell me now why you called me out here?"

Hayan kept her head lowered as she explained what happened to her.

"Father Michael...he...he and I got into a fight."

"You got into a fight...? About what?"

"He...he's not letting me go to school anymore."

"What?!"

I was flabbergasted. Then, my astonishment turned into indignation.

"He...he can't do that! You haven't even finished the semester yet!"

"I know...I tried arguing against it, but he...he's made up his mind."

"Hayan..."

I was still aggravated on Hayan's behalf, but seeing her appear so defeated dampened my mood.

"Maybe you need to spend some time away from Father Michael...that could do both you and him good."

"But...where would I stay?"

"Don't be siily! You can stay with me!"

"Really...? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course!"

I gave Hayan a hug. She was no longer frowning, but grinning in relief instead.

Hayan stayed over at my apartment that night. She went home briefly to get her things and her scooter, and to tell Father Michael she was staying over at my place. That made him more upset, but Hayan didn't care. She was still mad at him.

My apartment was relatively small, so I didn't have a guest room for Hayan to stay in. She told me it was okay, and decided to sleep on my couch instead. I was embarrassed I couldn't get Hayan a more comfortable place to sleep.

The next day, Hayan and I decided to go on a walk in the neighborhood to cool off. It was raining again, and we saw a bunch of people gathered around the street gutters. They were panicking, and when we peeked inside the gutter to see the source of all the commotion, we saw a cat close to drowning.

I wanted to help the cat, but I didn't want to reveal my alter ego. Then, I came up with a brilliant idea.

"Attention, please! Does everyone here know what tug of war is? Yes? We can do something similar! Everyone here line up behind me, and hold on to the person in front of you! Then, pull with all your might!"

They did as I instructed, and with the help of my vampire strength, we were able to pull the lid off of the gutter and save the cat. Someone had called 119 beforehand, but since we all saved the cat, there was nothing left to do but get our picture taken in the newspaper. Hayan and I were one of the people who received the "Good Samaritan Award".

Hayan wanted to go home and tell Father Michael about how we saved the cat. I didn't think it was a good idea, but I conceded in the end. Surely Father Michael couldn't be mad about saving an innocent animal's life?

I was disappointed to find that I was wrong. Hayan came to me in tears. She had another argument with Father Michael. So another night passed where Hayan stayed over with me.

Father Michael called Hayan the next morning to tell her that he, Yerim, and Yunsu moved to another neighborhood. He sounded apologetic about the day before. He told Hayan that he moved her stuff to their new home, and if she'd like to come over to see it.

"Go ahead, I don't mind. You should check up on your siblings too."

I gave Hayan a thumbs up, and encouraged her to go. I'd still be there for her when she needed me. Hayan gratefully thanked me, and went over to check up on her siblings, and Father Michael. She called me later, in better spirits.

"I patched things up with Father Michael. It's still kind of rough, but we're making progress."

"Hayan, that's great news! Why don't you stay over tonight then?"

"Okay...."

Hayan stayed with Father Michael, Yerim, and Yunsu for the rest of the week, while I was busy with school. I had mostly accepted the fact that Hayan wouldn't be going to college anymore, but at least we could still hang out together outside of it.

o - o - o - o - o

I got a request from Hayan to come and watch over her siblings for her, while she went out.

"Thank you so much for coming over! Yerim and Yunsu are in bed, but if they wake up and need anything, I feel much better knowing you're there with them."

"It's no problem at all! But just out of curiosity, what do you need to go out for?"

"Father Michael still hasn't come home, even though it's already night time. He's never been this late before..."

"Oh, I see. You'll be going to the church then?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, I'll see you when you get back!"

I expected Hayan to come back with Father Michael, after dealing with whatever was keeping him busy at the church.

But instead, Hayan came back with a police officer and a coroner.

"Unnie, what's going on?"

Yerim and Yunsu were rubbing the sleep from their eyes after they had been woken up by Hayan.

"As Ms. Park requested, the three of you present, sans Ms. Park's friend, are the next of kin of Father Michael. It is with a heavy heart and our deepest condolences that we announce the passing of Myeongsu Choi on this night. We are sorry for your loss, and offer you all our deepest sympathies."

After the coroner announced the death of Father Michael, the police officer and the coroner left to allow Hayan and her siblings to grieve. Yerim and Yunsu were quiet, before tears started falling from their eyes.

"U-unnie, what did they mean? F-father Michael is dead?"

"Yerim....Yunsu..."

Since Hayan arrived earlier, she had tried keeping up a strong front for her siblings. But as she embraced them in her arms, I saw her shoulders trembling. I enveloped Hayan in my arms as the four of us stood there, the quiet of the apartment interspersed with the sniffles and sobs of Hayan and her siblings.

Three days later, Father Michael's funeral was held. Captain Hwang came, along with everyone in the neighborhood, to pay their respects to Father Michael.

I stayed with Hayan and her siblings the days after the funeral. Hayan and her siblings had to prepare to move out, because of the death of their adoptive father. I helped them pack their things back at the apartment, while Hayan visited the rectory to get Father Michael's belongings.

She later told me about the letters Father Michael had written to her.

"He wrote all those letters...for me....he wanted to give them to me, but never found the chance to..."

'And now he never would', was left unsaid.

"I found this too...a business card from the Red Bomb Club."

"Red Bomb Club?!"

That was a club I had found out about during my nighttime excursions. Vampires frequented the club, and even worse, they lured unsuspecting humans in to become their prey, by posing as a safe haven.

"Why did Father Michael have a business card?"

"I don't know, but I overheard police officers at the funeral say a bunch of them had been stuck in Father's pockets."

"Could this be related? You don't think...they killed Father Michael?"

"Not just think...I know they did."

Hayan looked absolutely enraged.

"What will you do now?"

"I want to get revenge. But there's something I have to tell you first...at the church tonight."

o - o - o - o - o

Hayan and I snuck away to the church after making sure Yerim and Yunsu were safe and sound.

The roof and the walls of the church had burned away, leaving gaping holes for the moonlight to stream in.

"Okay, we're at the church. What did you want to talk about?"

"Remember that day you saved me from a vampire? You were truthful with me then, so I want to be truthful with you now."

"Truth? What truth?"

"I'm...also a pureblood vampire."

Before my very eyes, Hayan pulled her hair free from her ponytail, and I watched as it lost its color. Her eyes that I loved so much turned blue, like my own eyes when I transformed.

"This...this is...."

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, especially when you told me first..."

"....Amazing!"

"Huh? You're not betrayed? Upset I kept this from you?"

"Why would I be upset, dummy? You're the first pureblood I've ever met aside from my parents."

"Your parents? You never talk about them..."

"That's because..." I hesitated before forcing out the words. "...they died."

"Oh...would it be alright if I asked how?"

"They died in a fire after sacrificing themselves."

"Just like Father Michael..."

Hayan and I contemplated our losses, and the tragedies that led us to where we were at present.

"Is it okay now if I asked about your life? How did you end up with Father Michael?"

"Father Michael...took me in when I was ten. I had no one and nowhere left to go. I hated myself so much that...I even tried to turn myself in for being a vampire."

"And Father Michael stopped you?"

"Yes...Father Michael became a second dad for me."

"What happened to your birth parents?"

"I can't remember. My memories of before I met Father...are unclear."

"Well, I'll help you get your memories back! After you get revenge on Father Michael's killer."

"Thank you...thank you so much..."

Hayan hugged me tightly, just like the day I saved her from the vampire.

After she and I let go of each other, I took Hayan's hands in mine.

"Hayan...I'll always be by your side. And I'm not just saying this because we're both pureblood vampires. Even if I wasn't a vampire, I'd support you no matter what. You're my friend, and I'll be there for you, through whatever hardships may come."

"And you can depend on me too. You don't have to shoulder your burdens alone."

Hayan and I left the church, our hands still interlocked.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

How much does it matter on whether or not an atheist thinks that free will exists? I know that free will’s existence is a very big component of Christianity and other religions, but I’ve also taken part on very secular discussions on the topic of free will’s existence as well that didn’t rely on discussing religion at all. I do think that free will exists for what its worth, but I also do often wonder if believing that makes me ‘bad atheist’ (so to speak) when talking about it.

I don't think it's very relevant to non-believers at all. I don't think there's any "right" answer to free will for an atheist. Other than that having it or not is not the result of a god.

The problem of free will is really an issue for theists whose gods were invented as a primitive way of explaining why things are and why things happen, while also needing to feel taken care of. Believers who insist that humans bear the blame alone for evil/sin/everything-bad-in-the-world while their god gets the credit alone for good/love/everything-good-in-the-world and is too fragile and immature to be held responsible for the bad things, despite having set the entire world up this way in the first place. The same god they pray to to change things to their liking, the same god they insist does not violate free will, and yet has a "plan" for their life and steps in to circumvent or override free will at convenient moments to suit their petty wishes.

Any theist who steps into "free will" territory is basically doing one of those obnoxious swimming pool bomb dives into quicksand.

We appear to have free will, but I don't think it's as entirely "free" as it may appear to us. We all have history, experiences, culture, upbringing, expectations, memories and habits that influence how we act and how we make choices.

Can you quit your job or your studies, travel half way around the world, switch your political alignment, become a vegan/start eating meat and shave your head/grow your hair out to your knees?

Yes, you can choose that. But will you? No, you're not going to do that.

Can you choose to get up every day at 4:00am and train 12 hours a day to become the worldwide triathlon champion? Sure, you can choose that. But are you going to? No, you're not. Somebody will or does, otherwise there wouldn't be a champion at all. But you and I, while we seem to have the freedom to do that, we're not going to.

That's not to say that I think everything is predestined. But we make small choices, small decisions one at a time, and in many cases there is only small differentiation between the choices, or with sufficient information one could probably predict the choice someone is going to make. Those choices also affect other people, even if those choices are small, because we don't know the flow-on effects of those choices and have to make the best ones we can with what we know. So things that happen aren't merely the result of our own free will (such as it is) but the result of everyone else on the planet.

Believers act like it's merely all on us. That I choose hell because I choose to deny Jesus as Lord, or MuhAllah as the true prophet/god. But I just heard the stories they taught us and found them absurd, while my parents chose that particular church that was boring, that church chose those particular priests who were all obnoxious and uncompelling, and so on, and so on. Did I have a choice to not believe, or was it simply inevitable?

Can I choose to believe now? Can Xians choose to believe in Vishnu, Quetzalcoatl or Kahless? Can they choose not to believe? Like, actually not believe, rather than just "oOh, LoOk aT Me, I'M An aThEiSt, I ThInK NoThInG CaN CrEaTe eVeRyThInG CaMe fRoM NoThInG AnD A MoNkEy iS My cOuSiN!"

So, while I don't think we have absolute free will, it's not because the universe doesn't allow it, but because we don't. Or at least, our psychology doesn't. There are things we like or prefer, we're creatures of habit, there are experiences that didn't go well that we want to avoid, desires or ambitions we've already conceived, etc, etc. Even then, we can be influenced by such things as fear of success or failure, fear of being alone, among other impulses. How many times have you made a choice and then changed your mind at the last second?

That's not necessarily a bad thing. Imagine how chaotic the world would be if everyone had absolute free will at all times. Although, we'd presumably have evolved and adapted to such a world and wouldn't know it any other way anyway.

As far as I can tell, free will or not is largely irrelevant to non-believers. It's an interesting philosophical question, but I don't think the atheist position lives or dies on it. Even if we had (have) absolute free will, I don't see how that undermines disbelief in a god - even if I could choose belief, I don't have a justification to do so for any one god over any other god; I would also have to choose cognitive dissonance.

And it doesn't undermine secular morality either; indeed, if we have absolute free will, then people choosing to act morally far more often than not is all the more admirable. And if we don't, then why do we need a god?