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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-16 08:00:47 EDT

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“See I’d been told my God was a God of love and mercy. When my father, John MacKay, used to be a pastor here…when he used to beat me bloody for saying the wrong thing, eating the wrong thing, looking at him the wrong way–” Gasps through the crowd. I glanced at my mother, who was staring daggers at me. “–or when my mom, there you go, that’s my mom down there, Frances MacKay, when she used to call me a fat whore for eating a bag of chips or wanting to sing secular music, it wasn’t Jesus I turned to.”

“That’s enough,” Pastor Bill said, coming up the stairs, his face reddening. The crowd noise was bubbling up, people asking each other if they’d heard correctly, if something was wrong with the microphone, if I really was who I said I was. Nobody was trying to shout me down yet, but that’d start any second.

I stepped around Pastor Bill and continued. “No, I went to my best friend, Abby. I got no comfort from the Jesus that told my father ‘spare the rod, spoil the child.’ I got comfort from Abby, and from my friends at the public school all you people hate, and from Tom Waits and Stevie Nicks and Hayley Williams and–”

“Enough!” Pastor Bill snarled, lunging at me. My scar flared and I stepped around–through–him easily, sending him stumbling backwards. The crowd gasped; I checked the view count. 1.2 million people had just seen that.

“I’ve read all kinds of passages supposedly from Jesus, talking about the poor inheriting the Earth. Loving your neighbor. Whatever you’ve done to the least of these, the immigrants, the prisoners, the sick and the poor, you’ve done to him. That people who only pray out loud and in public for everyone to see are hypocrites. Well, that’s the Jesus Christ I’d like to meet, but I sure as hell haven’t met him in Dieburg, Indiana!”
They were booing now, standing up, shouting. A baseball flew from the stands at me, but went way left. This would get dangerous soon; time to wrap it up.

“He thinks his name is Steve!” Stede complained as Mary stroked his cheek soothingly. “This is insane! He’s not supposed to–”

“Be an equal partner?” Mary raised her brow elegantly. “You always hated how your father ignored his wolf, don’t be a hypocrite.”

Stede winced, because that was entirely too fair. But it had to go the other way around too! Werewolves that told humans about them told humans they had known for years. A person couldn’t just implode world views on a whim!

“The way I see it, you need to make a choice before you hurt yourself.” Mary dropped her hand to hold up a finger. “You can move so you are no longer living next to a man your wolf clearly wants.” She held up another. “You can find a way to tell him what you are and trust that you have good instincts about people.” She held up a third finger. “You can try seeking an actual mate rather than fucking your way through Grindr. You’re too old for a slut era.”

“Christ!” That startled a laugh out of Stede, even as his stomach twisted uncomfortably. His wolf had retreated behind his wall, so it was just Stede reacting to moving. “I’ll put some thought into it, but what I do between myself and Grindr is my business, Mare.”

“Uh-huh, sure, you know Lucius loves to gossip.” Mary’s lips twitched in a smile. “I heard that one week you had five ‘dates’ in a row, two of which were in one day.”

“We’d just gotten a divorce! I was getting it out of my system!” Stede protested as Doug lolled his tongue out in a silent lupine laugh.

“You were getting something into your system.” Mary nudged him with an elbow. “Either way, you two enjoy whatever this all is, I’m going to go invite Ed to the bonfire.”

“What?!” Stede stiffened up.

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Unfinished teal beaded shawl laying on top of an unfinished avocado and cream colorwork sweater.

A set of pull-back toy cartoon tanks with parts swapped and removed. Tanks are on top of a grey and white cutting mat.

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a snipper of a wip that reads:

"Forgive me, sweet angel, for I have sinned." He whispered to her, his fingers sliding between each other and clasping tighter around the beads he held. "I have sinned every day since I met you and I will beg your forgiveness every day going forward as I have no plans to stop."

"Tell me of your sins, Alastor." She said, her voice soft and low as she moved her hand to his chin, tilting it back further.

"Oh, sweet angel." He muttered as she pressed her thumb to his lips. "Don't you know? I've corrupted an innocent."

A sock being knitted in cobalt and white yarn. Blue and white cables twist along the leg. The cuff and heel are both blue.

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