#YOU HEARD THAT CANVAS DAVID
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200percent-timothy-jd · 2 months ago
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Rontimothy canon in Tumblr lore?
Yeah.
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rebelliousstories · 8 months ago
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Coming Home
Relationship: Luke Alvez x Reader
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Request: No
Warnings: Angst, Descriptions of Violence, Fluff
Word Count: 2,945
Main Masterlist: Here
Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here
Part Two of: That’s My Wife
Summary: It’s a race against the clock in order to get inside and find out where Luke’s wife has gone.
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Previously…
“You are just gorgeous. Don’t know how that man ever landed you.” As he grew closer, Theodore raised his gun with his finger on the trigger, and fired.
Bang
~
Leonard grabbed his brother’s arm and raised it towards the sky just in time for the bullet to graze her shoulder. He wrangled the gun out of Theodore’s hand. “The hell are you doing man? We need her alive!”
“Maybe you need her alive, but I’m perfectly content in seeing how well agent Alvez copes with the loss of his little wife.” The man tried to make another pass at her, but was stopped once again by his brother.
“We kill her, and we have no chance of getting out of here alive. I mean, we’re already going to have a hard time with you killing that guy, and for someone calling the cops on us before we ever started.” Leonard leveled with his brother.
“The hell you talking about, Leo?” Theodore scoffed.
“The agent on the phone, Rossi, he said that this was the first time we’ve ever been caught. That could only mean that someone tipped them off before we ever got started here.” The two brothers were chest to chest, and toe to toe. They had forgotten about the hostages and the reason they were there.
“Ted didn’t canvas the place properly.” Wulfric suddenly piped up. Both brothers turned to the man who spoke.
“What did you say?” Theodore turned, a dangerous growl in his tone.
“You didn’t canvas properly,” came his reiteration. “You were suppose to take care of this job, because we thought we could trust you to do it right.”
Wulfric stood and left the room to go find Samson, leaving the other two alone.
~
“Okay, thanks to Garcia, we have blue prints of the building. There is the main entrance and exit here at the front,” Matt pointed, “but there is one side entrance. It’s a wonder they haven’t even tried to use it yet.”
“What is their endgame?” JJ asked, looking down at the blueprints. Everyone stopped for a second as they processed the woman being there.
“What are you doing here?” Rossi inquired, with his brows arching.
“Heard you guys needed a little extra help so I postponed my vacation by one more day. Will is staying with the boys.” She smiled as she was refocusing on the case.
“Garcia brought me up to speed, but I’m still confused as to how and why they got caught now.” The rest of the team was with her there.
“There was something about the way Leonard reacted when I mentioned that. It was like he was just now realizing that they were stuck.” Rossi mentioned. Spencer held up a hand.
“That could be because he wasn’t thinking about that possibility. He could think they’re too good to be caught.” However, David shook his head.
“No. Get Garcia on. I think I know what went wrong.”
~
Luke paced back and forth throughout the room with his arms tucked in. He had not said a word. Emily had stuck him in the mobile command center while the rest of his team was working the case outside. While the air conditioning felt amazing, Alvez was losing his mind thinking about his wife that was stuck in the building. With a slam of a door, Prentiss stepped inside and closed it behind her.
“Have there been any threats made against you recently?” Her tone left no room for nonsense.
“No. Emily, what’s going on? Where is my wife?” Luke pressed, already on edge.
“Luke, answer my question. Have there been any threats made against you or your wife recently?” Once more, she asked. Alvez scrubbed his hands over his face before placing his hands on his hips.
“No. Nothing.” He admitted. His voice was defeated.
“What about anyone watching you?”
“No.”
“Okay,” Prentiss sighed, “what about the trial? You had to go and testify as the arresting agent. Did one of the twins make any threats against you?”
Luke had to pause. It had been so long ago, in time and cases he has worked, that he had pushed it to the back of his mind. Scrubbing his face for what seemed like the hundredth time, he tried to think about the trial. Nothing was coming to his mind the longer he thought about it. Luke pieced together the events of today and tried to search his memory when he finally found it.
“At the trial, when the verdict was read after my testimony, Theodore was screaming at me. He blamed me for them being caught and sentenced. He called my wife by name, and said that he would make me regret it. I didn’t pay it any mind at the time.” The look of revelation on Luke’s face told Emily everything she needed to know.
“Let’s go.” They walked outside and found the rest of the team to clue them in. However, before they could, Prentiss’ phone rang out.
“What have you got Penelope?” She asked, standing around with her team.
“Ma’am, it’s her. They just- they’re, oh god.” Garcia whimpered as whatever she was looking at was happening.
“What’s going on, Garcia? What’s happening to my wife?” Luke demanded, resisting the urge to yank the phone out of his unit chief’s hand.
“Theodore just hit her over the head. They’re taking her somewhere in the bank but I can’t find it.” The woman’s voice was weak as she tried to articulate what was going on.
“That’s it.” Alvez growled. He tried to make for the building, but was held back by Matt and Spencer. It was like they were corralling a wild bull with how much the man was thrashing around.
“Let me go! I need to go in there!” He screamed, but there was no moving the two men holding him back.
“Alvez!” Emily yelled over his protests. Turning around, the agent was panting with rage.
“I said I wouldn’t take you off. Don’t make me do it.” She promised, watching as the man walked off. Prentiss nodded to JJ to go look after him, before she turned back to the team.
“Garcia, you still there? What’s going on inside?” Recentering the rest of the team, Prentiss assumed her role as team leader.
“Yes, I’m still here. I’m trying to gain access to the CCTV cameras outside the bank to see if there is something that I can find.” Furious typing was heard over the line, when David piped up.
“Garcia, is there a camera over the side door of the bank? We know that there is one but we’re wondering why they haven’t used it yet.”
“Um, yeah. Oh, oh no,” she began, “um, so I see Wulfric and Samson transporting something out to a car but they keep going inside. Why would they do that?” Penelope asked confused.
“Because they are wanting Theodore and Leonard to take the fall for the job.” Spencer stated, feeling dread fill his stomach.
~
Groups of people sat around the bank as Leonard kept his gun on them. Meanwhile, Theodore was busy beating on Alvez’s wife. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh caused even Leonard to flinch. He turned and saw the woman fall to the floor with bruises already forming on her face.
“Alright, give it a break man.” Leonard pulled his brother off of the woman. She curled in on herself while Theodore panted with a smile on his face.
“Where the hell are Wolf and Shark?” The man looked around as he waited. His brother looked as well, but stopped after a moment.
“They probably found a way for us to get out.” Theodore commented, turning his attention back to the woman on the ground who was still curled in. The phone rang again. This time Theodore answered.
“Hello?”
“Theodore,” David answered, “how are you doing?”
“I’m feeling fine. Can’t say the same for Mrs. Alvez. How is Mr. Alvez by the way?” He teased, keeping his eyes on the woman on the floor.
“For your safety, he is not coming in there. Say, do you know where Samson and Wulfric are?” David asked.
“They’re finding us a way out.” Theodore commented as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“Oh, they’re finding a way out alright. I just don’t think you’re a part of their plan.”
“You’re wrong.” He hung up the phone, and walked over to his brother.
~
David sighed as the phone hung up yet again, and turned towards Emily. The two senior members of the team had a silent conversation with just their eyes.
“How do you want to play this?” He asked, hands resting on the table beneath the phone box. Prentiss thought for a moment.
“Let’s get Samson and Wulfric the next time they come out. Reid, you and Simmons take care of that. Dave, Tara, we need to find a way to get inside.” With their assignments, everyone took off.
The two men went around the side of the building and saw that the twins had just disappeared back into the building. Waiting for the right time, their firearms were drawn as they assumed their positions. Reid stationed himself behind Matt, who was right in front of the door. It was only a few minutes before the door opened again. Samson and Wulfric stopped dead in their tracks as they saw what was waiting for them.
“Hey boys.” Matt teased, motioning for them to drop to the floor. Samson noticed the other agent behind him, and dropped. His brother followed suit, and the two were swiftly arrested and placed in a car to be taken downtown. After that, the agents made their way back to the rest of the team, and hoped that there was an update. Luke and JJ had joined them again which was a good sign.
“Are the Mitchell’s taken care of?” Emily asked, receiving nods of conformation in return.
“Went down without a fight.” Matt commented, focusing on how to get the rest of the people out.
“So, Theodore is seemingly calling the shots. We need to find a way to get Leonard to get out so we can take his brother down. He’s the main threat to her right now.” The unit chief explained.
“Let me try something.” Luke finally spoke up. Everyone looked towards the man, whose voice was rough with emotion.
~
“Where the hell are those two?” Theodore growled as his brother looked around the back of the bank.
“I don’t know. They aren’t here.” Leonard stated. The phone rang again. He stalked over to it and wasted no time in answering.
“What did you do?” He screamed, waiting for Rossi to answer him.
“Hello, Leo. Looking for someone?” It was Luke instead. Leonard stopped as he processed the voice.
“Luke Alvez,” Theodore turned to face his brother in shock. “What can I do for you, mister agent?”
“How about a sign of good faith? Let some of the hostages go.” Luke’s request made Leonard laugh.
“What kind of husband- what kind of man are you? You don’t want to speak to your little wife?” The man leered, confused by the agent’s words.
“I can see that she is okay right now. If you let the hostages go, I’ll come in myself and we can talk.” Leonard held his brother’s eyes while on the phone. He heard the call mute, and then click back on.
“No firearm, no vest. Once you’re in, we’ll let the hostages go.” He hung up the phone, and felt a surge of adrenaline power through him.
“Looks like we’re getting our reunion after all.”
~
“Luke, you can’t go in there. We’re not giving them another hostage.” Rossi shut down the notion as Luke was removing his gun and vest.
“If it means getting those innocent people out and away from danger, I’m doing it.” He set down the effects and jogged to the door before his team could stop him. Shouts of his teammates disappeared when he opened up the door and went inside the bank. Once he was in, he could see the carnage. The body of the man from earlier was dragged off to the side at some point, and people were grouped together. Men, women, and children were separated in different parts of the lobby. With hands up, Luke walked further into the building.
“Agent Alvez, how nice of you to join us.” Theodore greeted him, pointing his own pistol towards the agent. He held eye contact before a whimper tore them away. Looking down, Luke saw his wife; beaten, bruised, bloody, and broken. The man noticed his attention had drifted.
“Oh she’ll be fine. Maybe.” He teased, treating it like a big game. Refocusing, Luke found Leonard next to him.
“The hostages need to go. I came in on your terms, now they need to go on mine.” Alvez reasoned as Leonard patted him down. Once he was cleared, he started going to get the groups to their feet and moving them to the front door. Luke kept his eyes on his wife while he heard footsteps leave the building. Knowing that his team had them taken care of made Luke feel better about focusing his attention on what was happening inside.
“Oh I have waited so long for this.” Theodore growled, hauling Luke’s wife to her feet by her hair. The sound made Luke lurch forward to help her, but Leonard grabbed the agent tightly to prevent him from reaching the other two people.
“Now,” Theodore came closer with the woman in tow, ”what to do with you two?”
“Neither one of you care about Samson or Wulfric?” Luke choked out. The arm around his throat relented just a little bit.
“What did you do to them?” Leonard inquired, but Luke just chuckled.
“They’re half way back into the system by now. We caught them about to sneak out a side door without you, and with the money.” The brothers looked at each other, and looked at the agent inquisitively.
“You’re lying.” Theodore breathed out, yanking to woman closer in retaliation.
“No,” Luke rasped, “my team found out who you all are, how you met. I already knew your M.O. so it was just a matter of figuring out that the other two were using your hatred to do bigger and bigger jobs. And just like we took them in, you’ll be going back in.” He struggled against his captor for a moment before relaxing. They would be getting out of this.
“Not going back to jail. Ain’t gonna happen.” Theodore said, shaking his head. From behind him there was movement that Luke caught, only because he was looking for it.
“See unlike you, I know when to take the low road and drop.” Luke’s eyes were on his wife, but he was not sure if she could see with all of her hair in the way.
“You? Low road?” Theodore laughed, ”you won’t take the low road, mister FBI agent. You’re too much of a goody two shoes for that to happen.”
“Let’s put that theory to the test.” Without warning, Luke dropped to his knees and threw Leonard over his shoulder to slam him into the ground.
“FBI! Let the woman go and show us your hands!” JJ yelled, walking in with Emily and Matt next to her. Leonard was busy being wrangled by Luke who was tossed Emily’s cuffs in the scuffle. Once he was apprehended, Theodore was much more willing to give up as his brother kept begging him not to shoot his way out. The Jameson twins were taken outside by Simmons and JJ, while Emily stayed behind to over see her other agent.
As soon as the danger had passed, Luke ran over to his wife and pulled her into his arms. They were both crying and whimpering as they finally got to hold each other after the whole ordeal. Alvez holding Alvez; he kept pressing kisses into her head, before moving her hair out of her face to assess the damage.
“Mi vida. Oh, you’re here.” He whispered, looking at the bruises on her face.
“Hey sugar. Didn’t mean to spend so long at the bank. Kinda got held up with lines.” She rasped, prompting a watery chuckle from Luke.
“Only you would joke like that at a time like this. We gotta get you to an ambulance, corazón.” Standing, Luke gently helped his wife up, careful not to put pressure on any injuries. Emily had already radioed in for an ambulance, and she went to help. However, he was not ready to let go of his wife quite yet. Luke wrapped her arms around his neck and hoisted her into his arms bridal style, and carried her out to meet the EMTs. Before they could leave, Prentiss pulled agent Alvez to the side real quick.
“What you did was reckless, stupid, and you put in danger one of my agents.” She scolded, noticing how there was no trace of apology on his face.
“You did well Luke. Take care of her.” Dismissing her agent, Luke happily climbed in the back of the ambulance and held his wife’s hand the entire way to the hospital.
“How are you feeling, amor?” Luke asked in a hushed tone while he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.
“Your memory feels like home to me. So whenever my mind wanders, it always finds its way back to you.” ~ Ranata Suzuki
“Better now that you’re here.” She replied, happily hugging her husband to her until the paramedics made them separate so they could do their jobs.
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hedgiwithapen · 4 months ago
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DHD prompt: First and/or Second David in the roleswap AU where Maggie's on Team Leverage and Nate's oblivious and still with IYS?
 It’s a decent forgery, Maggie has to admit. Not good enough to fool her, but damn close. And even knowing how much she hates him, Blackpool won’t doubt her word.  Not over the Second David. She could hand him something from a high school ceramics class and it would take him a moment to realize, and the statute that Sophie and Hardison put together over the last weekend is far better than that. She’s so close. She can taste revenge in her smiling mouth, like the vodka Sophie took from her the night they met.  Ian will take the bait and look the fool.  It won’t bring back Sam. She got into this game too late for that. Her ex would have said this was justice, but it’s not, and she knows the difference. “Sophie,” she says into the coms. “Come on. I need you to close the deal.” “I’m a little busy,” Sophie’s  regular accent returnes, the Italian she’d worn for the evening melting away. “There’s someone here who, uh. Recognized me.” Well. Shit. Maggie knows who that has to be. There’s only one person here who’d see through Sophie’s guise, and it’s the same person who’s the only threat to the game she and the crew are running. Hell, he’d know all of them, if not by face by some other means. She’s fairly certain that Nate never actually caught up with Parker or Eliot, but Sophie and Hardison…. Maggie takes a sip of her drink, and thinks. Nate won’t be distracted for long, and while the Vatican angle isn’t strictly required for the con to work, Sophie being spotted on the same night the prodigal art examiner returns will draw suspicion they can’t afford. “I’ll let you think over my price,” she tells Ian, handing him her empty glass like he’s no better than the bussers, and slips into the minglers.   It’s a risk. She left. And Nate was never-- he loved her, she knew that. But he wasn’t all hers. He loved the hunt too much. Not enough that he’d stray, but she opened the barn door and bolted, the day she’d woken up in an empty apartment and a text on her phone saying he’d had to fly to Madrid on work. Their son was cold in the ground and he’d left because the man who’d put him there had asked. What if he didn’t look twice? What if he did and then away?
“Maggie?” he asks, his voice and hand snaking out to touch her, and as she’d hoped, turning away from Sophie. “Is that--you… you look…” he trails off.
“Nate,” she says, quietly. “You look… busy.” Has he always looked that tired?  Have his eyes always been that hard? Maybe she is simply looking at him the way Sophie’s taught her to evaluate a mark. The way she looks for falsehoods in a brushstroke. Everything about him rings sad, but trying.
“I am. Uh. There was a case with a stolen Manet last week. We could have-- I could have used you.”
“I’m sure you managed,” she says, glancing around the party. “Or you’d hardly be celebrating.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he asks, hard. “No one’s heard from you since…”
Maggie files that away. She’d have thought James would have said something. That he hasn’t is worrying. “I don’t have time for this,” she says, brushing him off, the reverse of Eliot pulling in the would be movie star. Unapproachable is easy enough, when she doesn’t want attention. She’s not sure she doesn’t, is the only thing.
“Maggie, wait,” he says, grabbing her hand and looking at her, the way Ian looked at the photo of the statue. The way Parker stares at deadbolts in bank vaults. “What did I do wrong?”
“I think he’s forgotten Sophie,” Hardison says in her ear, helpful, helpful. “So you can scoot. Blackpool’s by the shrimp.”
Maggie fights her own feet. She can’t tell him the truth. He’s always been so black and white, right down to the canvas.  She can’t pour out the can of grey paint and thinner she’s carting around in her heart without destroying the man she used to love. She can’t pull away, either.
“It wasn’t you,” she says, though that’s never going to be the full truth. “Let me go, Nate. please.”
His hand drops as if she’d struck him. “Maggie…”
“I’m sorry, Nate,” she says. “Don’t look for me.”
She knows he will. She’ll just have to have a better lie, for the next time.
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dre6ming · 1 year ago
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Playing for keeps
Chapter I
Masterlist
Pairing: Austin Butler x Y/n
Plot: Austin is the next in line for the throne, but he can’t be king if he doesn’t have a wife. In your country tradition says that a selection formed of 35 young women must be formed for the prince to find a wife. You are obligated by circumstances to participate against your will. What are the chances that you might be the next queen? None right? Right?
Warning: none
Word count: ~4000
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"To heal the soul by the means of the senses and the senses by the means of the soul" or something like that, is what Oscar Wilde said to make me really understand why something so simple as feeling the bristles of my brush stroke the rough surface of the canvas. My lines look a little jagged today, my hand keeps shaking and no matter how many deep breaths I take, the rock sitting on my chest hasn't gotten any lighter.
Thirty five, what a strange and odd number, why so many? Why not more or less? Did they have a mathematician who centuries ago did the math for them and concluded that thirty five was the lucky number to find a wife out? I take a deep breath as the word "wife" bounces off of the walls of my skull. It's not just a wife, it's the future queen.
It's been a little more than 30 years since the last selection, when queen Lori was selected out of the bunch by King David and now the result of their successful selection, their son, prince Austin, is about to have his very own selection. All of the girls in the kingdom between the ages 18-22 were asked to submit an entry into the competition, to hopefully end up being the princess of the kingdom and the future queen.
Emphasis on the word "asked" , we were not obligated to do it, at least not by our government, our parents however? Well the forced me to apply, dragged me down to the office where the applications were collected and made me sign up.
"Y/n it's time, come come sit!!" My mom shouts for me and I put down the paint brush, wiping my hands on a rag, brushing back some hair as I make my way to the very small, very crowded living room. My mom , dad and all my 5 siblings are spread around the tv, watching it like hawks. "Come sit!" Mom pats the spot next to her on the couch and I squeeze between her and my older sister.
I can't help but feel angry at the whole situation, my parents live in a poorer side of the country and the fact that they had 7 kids did not help, I'm right in the middle, being the 4th to be born, my older siblings, are married off to their own households where the also pop baby after baby, that is except for one of my eldest siblings, my sister Hannah, who's the reason why mom put me into the selection in the first place.
To back track a bit and explain, my parents met and got married when they were 20 years old, my brother Josh came a year later, he's now 26 married and expecting child number three, his income already stretched thin. Then came Anna, she's 24 she married in a more stable family, but with baby number two, turning into babies number 2 , 3 and 4, yes that's triplets that she's having, money is low. Mark, 22 now, not married, he's actually, well we don't know, he ran away with a girl from around here, we haven't heard anything in years and since we barely have time to live our own lives and win enough for a living, we've put him aside. My sister Hannah, 22 as well, she's Marks twin, she's supposed to marry, but the guy she chose is from a family of twelve and they have little to no money.
Then there's me, Y/n, 20 being auctioned away in the hopes that the weekly allowance my family will get for my participation would be enough for my sister's wedding and some other things for my youngest siblings. After me my parents had kids 2 more times, Kyle 14 and then the other set of twins, this time identical Tana and Lane, 10 years old.
My mom works as a nurse and my dad is a retired guard from our region. Money is low so we all have to work, but with 2 siblings out of the house and one waiting to marry, we lost working hands. I sell paintings on commission and I also work at the local bakery to try and make some extra money, but it's not enough to support me, mom and my younger siblings. Which is why I was forced by mom to join the selection, the family of the girl competing gets a weekly allowance for as long as she stays in the game, not to mention the chance of actually being queen.
As names are being drawn on tv I can feel everyone in the room tense as the 34th girl gets called out and it's not me, I had 34 chances and I lost them all, now I get one more, but I hope I'll lose again. I don't want to go, I don't want to meet the prince or be his wife, I'm not meant to be queen, I'm just not.
My breath gets caught in my chest as the host, Lucas, puts his hand back in the bowl of names. My ears are ringing as he read the name and I almost faint seeing my picture there. "You got it, hon, good job!" Mom says and all of my present siblings start to chant my name, happy for me. I can barely hear them though, so I get up with tears in my eyes, brushing everyone off, walking out, out of the room, out of the house.
My bare feet, touch the sharp gravel, but I can't give into the pain, all I know is I need to run, run for now, or at least until tomorrow when the people from the palace will be at my door to package me up and send me to their prince. Staring out into the midnight sky, I could see everything I had being ripped apart, I didn't have much, but I had enough. Dropping to the ground and letting the cold grass soak my thin cotton dress, I close my eyes, scared to death about the outcome of what I had just gotten myself into.
The next time I open my eyes, two guards from the royal guard stand in my door and my mom hands me a bag I didn't pack, pushing me out the door. I take one last look back at the people I'm leaving behind and I tell myself I have to at least make it a few weeks, so that my sister could use the money for her wedding, then I'd come back and move to a richer part of the country, where I wouldn't be able to ever see my family. Those are the rules, after you get into the game, when you live you have a higher status and income so they move you and you can no longer interact with your past the way you used to.
Watching my step getting out of the car that took me from the airport to here, I take in the palace, with it's high towers and beautiful architecture. People are outside, forming a pathway for us to walk as they chant different names of other girls who also got selected. I am so out my element here, the dress my mom picked for me was too tight and itchy, the high heel shoes hurt my feet and my hands were sweating too much. "Here it goes!" I say under my breath stepping forward and into the unknown building. The inside even more beautiful than I could describe, high ceilings with crystal chandeliers, gold accents and mahogany furniture, underneath my heels white marble floors.
"Ladies! Welcome, I am Silvia and I'll be you're etiquette advisor and teacher, I'll also be your voice here, anything you need, you ask me and I'll make it happen if it within my powers. You will now be less to yours rooms where you will meet your maids, they will help you with hair, make up and clothes and anything else you might need. Dinner will be served in your rooms tonight and breakfast is at 7 am tomorrow, after breakfast you will each get to talk with the prince and get to know him. I've left some pages on your beds with instructions about tomorrow as well as the schedule of our classes. Good evening going forward!" The tall blonde woman left our sight walking gracefully in her long gown. I wonder if I'll ever be like her? Back so straight, shoulders so strong, hair so put together, make up so natural yet so beautiful, voice so clear, everything about her spoke volumes on everything I was not. I don't know how they expect me to last a day here.
In my room, I stand and wonder how can a place for one person be the size of my home which currently houses 7, now that two of my siblings had moved out. "Lady Y/n!" Two petite women curtesy in front of me, they look like sisters, about the same age as me, but one of them looks a bit older. "Just Y/n" I lick my lips fiddling with my fingers. The older one nods, smiling. "A-and you are?" They seem confused by my question. "Your maids lady!" The other one explains in a sweet voice.
"Yes no, I know, I meant, your names, what are your names?" I ask again hoping I'm not making them uncomfortable. "I'm Jules and she's my older sister Jane, we're very happy and honored to meet you, lady Y/n" I nod, smiling as well, as they start pacing around the room fixing things up. My eyes watch them move, mesmerized by how synchronized they are. "Can you stand and turn around lady Y/n? We have the water running in the tub, so you can take a bath."
I stand and turn so that Jules could undo my dress, then sliding my arms through the silk robe. "Just Y/n please!" I ask again, all these official things making me uncomfortable. "Lady Y/n, if I may-" I open my mouth to correct Jane, but she puts her hand up stopping me. "You are now a lady, his majesty will refer to you as such and you have to keep to these titles, at least until you get to know him better." I nod at her kind advice and follow her into the bathroom, where she helps me step into the tub, taking my robe away and checking the water temperature one last time. "Well relax lady Y/n, when you're ready, call for us and we will get you ready for bed."
Before she leaves me to my own, I dare to ask her one more thing. "Jane, is he nice?" I ask, this being the first time I actually my curiosity about the prince, spiked ever since I was selected. Jane gives me a soft smile, fixing the creases on her apron. "That's for you to decide lady Y/n, but his majesty, prince Austin has always been well liked by the staff." She leaves before I get to asks anything more and I take that as her polite way of saying that's how much she's allowed to say.
The bed here is so much softer than the one at home, the one I uncomfortably share with my twin sisters. The sheets are so soft and silky, it feels like I could turn to fast and fly off the bed. Jules and Jane left shortly after, brushing my hair back and helping me into my silk night gown. Even in this big room, air feels compressed and I want to walk, so I find myself putting on my slippers , taking a moment to look at them, I've never had slippers before. I the dark of the room I make out the location of the door and I turn the knob slowly, trying to make no sound.
I feel a cool breeze brushing my bare legs and I follow it thinking this could be the way to find a door leading outside. Only thing stopping me are the two guards standing in front of it. "Miss are you lost?" One of them asks, making me blush, finally so aware of the fact that I left my room wearing only my thin silky night gown. "N-no, I was wondering how to get to the garden." I say hoping my voice didn't sound too shaky. "No can do miss, you need to get back to your room." The guard tells me, his eyes staring straight ahead. "Please, I, I just need a moment." I beg, taking a step closer and that's when they both move their eyes to look at me, their mean stares making me shiver. "Not allowed, back to your room miss!" The other guard speaks.
Suddenly another set of steps are heard and the guards stand straighter. I don't dare to make a move and look at who it might be. "Your majesty!" They say in unison and the blood freezes in my veins. I've never heard him speak before, his voice sounds so clear, a bit raspy, but still sweet, like warm honey. "Lay her be!"
"Your majesty, we can't-" the guard protests. "I said let her be, open the doors!" They do as he says and I don't wait to walk out, the cold air hitting my warm skin leaving goosebumps. "Stay 5 minutes, then back to your room, if you won't go willingly they have my permission to drag you there." I stop and without turning around I say. "Thank you, your majesty!" My voice sounding like it's under water.
I didn't stay too long after I heard him walk away, running back to my room almost immediately after. Sleep came to me easily after that, but I still felt restless now as Jane brushed my hair into a braid. They put me into a floor length light green dress, with beautiful lace details all around the corset. I looked like a princess this morning when I looked at myself in the mirror and I couldn't believe it and then for just a moment too long I had questioned why I pushed this competition away so vehemently. That last thought however got send back to the depth of my mind and I was now patiently waiting for my turn with the prince, tormented by the wonder of whether he would recognize me from last night or not. 
At last my turn comes and I get up from my seat, fixing my dress as I walk with my head down toward the table where he awaits for me. Sitting down, I still keep my eyes on the ground scared to look at him, feeling my heart thudding against my corset concealed chest. "Y/n? Right? Pleased to meat you, I do hope you're feeling better." His voice comes out first, breaking the silence and making me finally look at him. I had seen him on tv, but the screen did him no justice, the blue in his eyes is so electric, the gold in his hair, is so endearing, my fingers itched with the wish to have a feel at it, his pink lips look so soft and warm. Everything about him is inviting and the way he seats in his chair, leaned back with his legs crossed, his chin in his hand, makes him look so young and careless, which he is, being only 22 and a prince. 
"Yes, your majesty, I'm quite well, thank you!" I blush deeply, my hands clutching the material of my dress in a stupid attempt to calm my nerves. Austin's eyes move to my hands and back to my face, a concerned look painting on his god like face. "Are you all right? Lady Y/n?" He asks, changing his position in the chair, leaning towards me. "If you're not feeling well, I can have for the doctor to come and see you later Lady Y/n." He says in a whisper. The word doctor makes me immediately let go of my dress and smooth down the creases, breathing deeply. "I am fine your majesty, it's all nerves." 
Austin hums and I expect him to go back to his previous sitting position, but he doesn't, he actually leans a bit closer if that were possible. I can now smell his woodsy cologne and a warm fuzzy feeling takes over my body. "You don't need to be nervous, I'm just a boy, just as you are just a girl-".
"But you're not" I find myself rudely interrupting him. "You're going to be king some day and 35 women were randomly chosen to come here and allow you to peruse them. 35 is a strangely small number compared to all the women out there that could be potentially way better for you than any of us."
"Then why come here? Why put your name in the ballot in the first place?" He asks and I can't read if he's been offended by what I said or not. "Your majesty, I apologize!" I look away from him and I can't help but notice that the other girls are all watching us, just like I had watched the previous ones when they were up here. I can only imagine they are analyzing if he likes me better or not. 
"Don't apologize, keep talking, I feel you have a point." Austin urges me and I bite my tongue. "Lady Y/n, my situation is unique, but I have no choice, it does not matter if the love of my life is someone outside these walls, I am not allowed to meet them. So please keep talking!" I feel sad for him, it's clear he's thought the same thing as me, what if his one true love is not one of us, but he's obligated to choose one of us either way. 
"My favorite book, "Withering highlights" the protagonists were not allowed to love each other but they did and the impossibility of being together killed them, had they not ever met, they would've been able to love someone else and live. I think what I said is quite wrong your majesty, maybe neither of us will be the love of your life, but with time you might find someone among us, that you could learn to love and survive." 
Austin opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn't get the chance, since it's announced that our time is up and I must go in order for the next girl to come. I get up breathless and do a very bad curtesy. 
The rest of the day I can't help but feel like I'm sitting on egg shells, I knew I had let my stupid mouth speak before I gave to much thought, but something about him made me feel like I could speak my heart. Jane brushes my hair, as Jules arranges things around the room,  taking the pillows off the bed and putting in place the last things for me to go to bed. 
A knock on my door makes Jane jump as she brushes my hair and Jules goes to open the door. "Your majesty!" I hear Jules say and so I turn to see him, in all his glory, wearing the same dark brown suit from breakfast, only he's discarded the jacket and the tie, a few of the buttons from his shirt being undone and revealing some of his chest, the sleeves are rolled up and this look suits him much better than the previous. Realizing I was just sitting and staring, I quickly get up and curtesy. "Your majesty!" 
"How would you like a stroll out in the gardens, Lady Y/n?" Austin's voice is calm and my ears are ringing, so I barely make out what he's saying, but I nod. "Yes, um Jules, my robe please!" I say, remembering I'm just wearing my night gown, which was very inappropriate. "Lady Y/n!" Austin extends his hand and I walk the few steps over to him, putting my significantly smaller arm around his. 
He takes the lead and walks us out of my room and to the gardens. My thoughts are racing, I'm not stupid I know he could have every advantage right now to try and make an inappropriate move onto me, but he doesn't seem like that kind of guy, but how does that kind of guy look anyway. 
"You're awfully quiet." He says as we walk through the dimly lit gardens. "I was waiting on you your majesty." He stops and turns to look at me. "Why so?" Austin asks blinking. I simply shrug my shoulders. 
He sighs and licks his lips, walking further into the gardens without another word. The whole situation is rather spooky and I can't help the anxiety building up inside me. Soon we get to a table, decorated with candles and flowers, steaming cups of tea resting on it. "I thought we might enjoy some hot tea, it's a bit chilly out." He pulls my chair out for me and I sit down hesitant. 
"Tell me more about you, your favorite book is "Withering highlights", what else do you like?" It takes me a moment to realize that he is being serious I can't stop the giggle that comes out. Confusion is once again shown on his face, but this time is accompanied by something else, the corner of his mouth slightly pointing up, he's amused too. "You really want to know?" 
"Well I must find a wife somehow." The breath gets knocked out of me by his statement, for a split second I had forgotten why I was here, to play in the game of selection. 
"I like to bake and knit, I make clothes for my siblings all the time, but by far my favorite thing is painting, there's something so strange about being able to use my own hands to capture a moment I time li you would a picture." He looks at me as I talk and something in his demeanor tells me he's actually interested. 
"Picture, I, well I don't paint, but I do enjoy photography." He admits, his eyes glimmering with excitement. "Really? And what do you find best to photograph? Objects, humans or nature?" I ask, Austin blushing slightly. "All, I can't say I'm that good, I don't have enough time to dedicate to the hobby, but I enjoy it." 
"I don't believe that you must show me one day, any kind of art is good art. I don't have any of my paintings here, but perhaps if I got the supplies I could paint you something!" I propose, trading the experience of showing off our works of art. "Perhaps one day." Austin says absentmindedly, clearing his throat before getting up. "It's late, I should escort you back to your room!" He says hastily. 
I don't bring up how neither of us even touched the tea or what a short time had passed since we got here, the tea still steaming in the cups. Something about him has changed, he's much colder, stiffer if you may. No more words are exchanged between us, except the good night he rapidly wishes me, before walking away.
I'm left confused and with another feeling stuck in my heart, because for a moment there I actually let myself go and I got happy? Maybe, I don't know. 
Sleep came to me very difficult and when I woke up this morning I had a headache, I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. As Jules is complaining that I had tangled my hair so bad in my sleep another knock is heard and my heart stopped. Is this hope I'm feeling? Hope that is Austin? 
"Lady Y/n, a package for you!" Jane announces. 
I get up taking the note from her hand, looking at the huge box that bigger than her. I open the small envelope and the first thing I notice is the very clean and neat handwriting. 
 <Lady Y/n,
I hope you will forgive me for leaving so hastily as I did last night, but I figured that our encounter wasn't quiet up to etiquette and in fear of damaging you or me, I thought it better continue some other time. Please forgive me and accept this gift, I hope you'll have a painting to show me soon enough
A.B>
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holystormfire · 10 months ago
Text
John 7:40-52
Nicodemus challenged his fellow pharisees.
Tumblr media
Nicodemus Visiting Jesus,
Painting by Henry Ossawa Tanner (1859-1957),
Painted in 1899,
Oil on canvas
© Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts
Gospel Reading
Several people who had been listening to Jesus said, ‘Surely he must be the prophet’, and some said, ‘He is the Christ’, but others said, ‘Would the Christ be from Galilee? Does not scripture say that the Christ must be descended from David and come from the town of Bethlehem?’ So the people could not agree about him. Some would have liked to arrest him, but no one actually laid hands on him.
The police went back to the chief priests and Pharisees who said to them, ‘Why haven’t you brought him?’ The police replied, ‘There has never been anybody who has spoken like him.’ ‘So’ the Pharisees answered ‘you have been led astray as well? Have any of the authorities believed in him? Any of the Pharisees? This rabble knows nothing about the Law – they are damned.’ One of them, Nicodemus – the same man who had come to Jesus earlier – said to them, ‘But surely the Law does not allow us to pass judgement on a man without giving him a hearing and discovering what he is about?’ To this they answered, ‘Are you a Galilean too? Go into the matter, and see for yourself: prophets do not come out of Galilee.’
Reflection on the painting
In today's Gospel reading, we encounter Nicodemus, marking his second of three appearances in the Gospel of John. Initially introduced as a curious seeker who approaches Jesus under the cover of night, Nicodemus is portrayed as intrigued by Jesus yet hesitant to fully embrace his teachings. His journey of faith is subtly woven through John's narrative, culminating in his participation alongside Joseph of Arimathea in ensuring Jesus receives a respectful (indeed, lavish) burial. This progression illustrates Nicodemus's gradual movement towards a deeper understanding and commitment to Jesus. Our reading today is the second (and middle) appearance of Nicodemus. Despite being a Pharisee, he displays remarkable bravery by questioning the outright dismissal of Jesus by his peers, who criticize Jesus based on his origin in Galilee, a region they regard as insignificant compared to the religious hub of Jerusalem. Nicodemus advocates for fairness and due process, arguing that Jesus should not be judged without first being heard. This stance places him at odds with the prevailing opinions of his colleagues, and his challenge is met with scorn, evidenced by their sarcastic comment "Are you from Galilee too?"
Nicodemus's growing relationship with Jesus left him increasingly isolated in the world where he had been so much at home. He actually reminds us that as we grow in our relationship with Jesus, there is often a price to be paid. We may find ourselves a lone voice among our peers. At such times, we know that the Lord is always with us.
Henry Ossawa Tanner painted our canvas in 1899, depicting the first of the three mentions of Nicodemus in John's Gospel (John 3:1-21). The painting was Tanner's entry to the 1899 Paris Salon. We see Nicodemus talking privately to Christ in the evening, a good example of Tanner's nocturnal light paintings. The painting was purchased there for the Wilstadt Collection, Philadelphia, and is now in the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. The narrative of Nicodemus' meeting with Jesus held significant meaning for Henry Ossawa Tanner's father, Benjamin Tucker Tanner. He was a Bishop in the African Methodist Episcopal Church and had aspirations for his son to join him in the ministry. While Henry's decision to pursue a career as an artist fell short of his father's dream, his talent for painting ultimately produced works that his father could admire and support.
Article by Father Patrick van der Vorst
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literaryfandomangel · 10 months ago
Text
The Promise- Chapter Thirteen
With a sigh, I decided to trust them. My fingers slowly moved toward the button on my waistband. I locked eyes with Paul, who nodded reassuringly. Exhaling, I unfastened the button on my jeans. When I tried to stand to expose the injury to the four, I almost lost my balance due to the pain. David's hands were quick to grasp my waist so I didn't topple over onto the floor. 
"Let me," Marko winked at me, trying to be flirty when the air was still tense and oppressive. His antics worked as I gave a watery chuckle. He was gentle and quick as Marko pulled the thick denim from the injury. He didn't pull them down unnecessarily low, just enough to expose the top of my thin thigh. 
I looked down to see the joint bruised - blue spiderwebs spreading from the point of impact. It was swollen, and any movement caused immense pain. The men present, barring David as he was holding me upright, could see the injury, and they had no words. 
"Did he hit you with a hammer?" Paul finally stated, eyes looking a little more golden. I let out a weak chuckle as I shook my head. 
"No, I slammed into the corner thingy of the railing," I admitted, not being able to articulate the name of the cause of my injury. Dwayne's eyes were locked on my hip, lips drawn into a frown. 
"Paul, go grab something cold," Dwayne's voice was lower than I'd heard. He helped me over to the couch, lying on the cushions. David hissed as he saw the injury for the first time. Dwayne's fingers gently skimmed the injury, ensuring I didn't fracture the joint. I felt tears sliding down the corner of my eyes at his prodding, but I knew it was necessary. Finally, Paul came bounding back like a puppy, holding a bag of frozen peas. 
"It's all I could find, man!" Paul protested as Dwayne cuffed him in the back of the head. He took the bag of frozen vegetables, setting it down on my hip on my tank top. I hissed at the feeling, and Marko knelt down by my head. He started to run his fingers through my hair, and I wanted to purr at the feeling. Before I knew it, the night's events had caught up to me, and I was sound asleep. 
When next I awoke, I found myself in my room, not the cave. I was tucked underneath the thin covers of my bed. I smiled, seeing the half-frozen bag of peas leaking condensation onto my sheets. My bag was set against the dresser, but there was something colorful on the flap. 
I attempted to heave myself out of bed but groaned. The bruises on my back caused an ache and sharp pain to erupt every time I moved. My hip was still swollen and bruised, pain shooting down to the tip of my toes with every motion. I fell back onto my bed, trying not to vomit from the pain of moving. 
I gave myself a moment before I eventually managed to stand upright. I wanted to see what happened to my bag, but human needs took precedence. I hobbled to the bathroom, where I decided to skip a shower. I was wondering if I could complete the action on my own now. 
I returned to my room and looked down at my bag. My fingers traced a colorful patch sewn onto the canvas flap. It was a colorful butterfly that I had no doubt was Marko's work. The butterfly was a myriad of colors, the threads silky and smooth. A smile curled my lips upright as I realized he was telling me this was my new start. My new start in life - if I let them help me, I'd be as free as a butterfly. 
I set down the bag and decided on a light sundress for the day. Usually, I hated dresses, but with my injuries, it would be stupid to restrict myself to heavy fabrics. I didn't want to constrict the swollen joint any more than it had been. 
I hesitated at the top of the stairs. I knew I needed to grab a couple of Tylenol, but just the short area from my bedroom to the staircase had me covered in sweat. I knew I had to suck it up. Therefore, I made my way carefully down the steps. It felt like I had run a marathon once I was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. While at the island, Sammy was reading a Batman comic, snacking on something. 
"Work," Sam replied, not bothering to look up from his comic. I sighed and dragged myself to the cabinet where Mom had stored the Tylenol. "You okay?"
"Fine," I mumbled, obviously sarcastic in my answer. I turned to face my brother, only to hit the floor hard. 
"ARIA!" Sam shouted in a panic as he threw his comic into the air. Grandpa rushed into the kitchen, taking in the scene of me lying on the floor, Nanook licking my face, and Sam panicked. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," I grunted as Sam and Grandpa hauled me to my feet. "Can you grab the Tylenol?"
"Here," Grandpa unscrewed the top, shaking out two pills into my hand. I took the medication and sat at the table. "What happened?"
"I hurt my hip at the Boardwalk last night," I sighed, wincing. 
"I'm going to call Mom!" Sam cried out. I threw a balled-up napkin at my brother, who had already taken the phone off the hook. 
"Sammy, it's just a bruise. I promise," I told my little brother, who hesitated before slamming the receiver back onto the wall. 
"You positive?" Sam questioned. I nodded. When Mom got home, Sam spilled the beans. She rushed into the living room to check on me and the injury. Since it was apparent that I couldn't keep trekking up and down the stairs, Mom made a small nest in the living room. I had to stay in the living room for about a week, at least until I could walk with minimal pain. 
Chapter Fourteen
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earth-64 · 1 month ago
Text
My Journey in Understanding Comics - Intermission "V"
This was written as my inaugural Letterboxd review. It got a bit out of hand so I have decided to present it here as well. - While Part 3 of my writing on my personal journey into reading comic books continues to bake in my brain (a fancy way of saying I am still brainstorming its final format) (a fancy way of saying I have not yet started writing it) as the list of included comics grows, I wanted to stop for a moment and write about one in particular for selfish reasons.
 
On November 5th, 2024 I began reading V For Vendetta, written by Alan Moore and illustrated by David Lloyd. This was on the whim of having read Alex Jaffe’s recommendation on the DC Blog and the vague understanding that this was the important date to read it on. This is the part where I reiterate that as a teenager my dad had given me a copy of Watchmen, then question why he only gave me that and never other Alan Moore books even after I expressed a love for Watchmen, leading in asking why, especially with him showing me Fight Club not long after, he would a few years later become fearful of my leftist radicalization. Instead of briefly ruminating on the chudification of anything with leftist morals, of red pills and project mayhems and Fawkes masks, an aside consisting mainly of “I’m too scared to know too much about the other side to properly critique them.”, I have decided to first write whatever this is: a paragraph about not writing things. I fall easy prey to the gimmick of writing something about itself when I lack the time to write something lengthy or god-willing something good. Only at my laziest, when I so badly want to splash paint onto a canvas and call it art to try and feel the relief granted by having created something again, do I create a piece of writing about what itself isn’t. 
So instead I will write about my day, and hope you can make something more of it than I can.
I began November 5th, 2024 expecting the worst. I was scheduled for a 7 hour shift. This is not the place I will go into detail about the way my brain comprehends the passage of time, except saying that this is beyond the limit that my short-term memory can comprehend as Now. By the end of a 7 hour day it feels like my entire existence has been that day. 
Before work I was hoping to start playing Planet Coaster 2, a theme park simulator I had pre-ordered. Unfortunately I was a day off on its release, it came out today, November 6th. Instead I played Dead Estate, which I really had to think about right now to remember. Before leaving for work at Noon I remembered that November 5th was the day of that one rhyme that I was vaguely aware was tied to V for Vendetta, a comic I heard was good but knew nothing about. I started reading the first issue before heading out.
At this time the vibe on social media was one of trepidatious optimism. Panic had not yet set in, but doom was creeping at the edges of every post. Those that engaged in the stage-show were sharing graphs: maps and analytics, populace represented by numbers and figures. Those that hide were still standing in the open, sharing their strategies for their planned retreats: assuring each other that there were games to play, films to watch. Smoke them if you got them. I would have headed their advice if not for my usual required time to temporarily become a machine again. 
I found myself behind the kiosk of the grocery store Starbucks counter, tightening my apron, as my manager was already whispering to my co-worker, pointing at her phone, pointing at a map that showed the city of Seattle in bright blue and the rest of the state a deep red. It was not by my choice that I would not be among those hiding through today. 
I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of running a Starbucks kiosk. I use “running” because I am usually alone, I was on that particular day for the final 3 hours at least. It is a ceaseless stress: there is always something to get done, someone to attend to, or something to worry about. They keep adding more responsibilities, berating me for doing a wrong thing I have done a hundred times without being berated before, and introducing further uncertainties and unwinnable scenarios. It is a job where they try their hardest to make life unlivable and I try to scrape together every ounce of relief from stress. Like all jobs.
The only interaction that mattered enough to mention here was one from a regular. An older man who was before this simply another vertice from which stress radiated: a notification that arrived at the counter and asked for me to recall the piece of information that is his usual order, to which my brain would offer me no help. A Diner Dash icon asking to be clicked. He complimented my lipstick.
I’ve been carrying around the same lipstick for a couple years now. It was a gift. I have been told it is too bright, too red for me. It makes me stand out, to stand out of place. The phrase “pig with lipstick” stands out despite its meaning not fitting here, more just the visceral imagery that it brings forth. I know I am overcompensating. Everyone who looks at me does. The lipstick tube is doubled-sided: one side the too-bright red, the other a layer of glitter, meant to be added on-top to dull the red. I have told myself the glitter side is meant for special outings, I wear the red at work to make my machine-self look feminine, I would wear the glitter on top to feel beautiful on days I am not a machine. The red is nearly worn down to nothing, I have not touched the side with the glitter. 
“You look good.”
“I am trying. It’s a process.”
“I know. It’s good you are trying.
Are you on estrogen?”
 “Yeah.”
"That will help. You'll notice."
I did not tell him I’ve been on it already for half a decade.
I finished the first issue of V for Vendetta on my lunch break. I saw that I had missed the slow creep of doom take hold of the zeitgeist. The world had turned dark outside while I was busy not existing.
The store grew more busy. There were whispers by customers, talk of coming violence no matter the outcome. The sun set earlier than it had any right, and I found myself on one last bathroom break, seeing the first footage of the protests beginning not too far outside the building. As I clocked out and made my way down the street I could see photos of the very same street, a few blocks further down, of arrests being made. A car drove down the street with its bumper scraping against the ground, it sounded like a car crash in a constant state of occurrence. The screaming car and I kept almost perfect sync the entire length of my walk down the street.. It screamed over someone playing a saxophone on the corner of the closed-down Rite-Aid. It screamed over the guy playing folk music on his guitar next to the walk-up burger place. It kept screaming, down the street, towards the protests where people like me where being shoved to the ground by police. I did not follow it. I walked home and it was in complete silence that I stood on the street corner and watched the Sheriff’s new $6,000,000 helicopter flying over the city. 
I watched John Wick with my girlfriend and I knew there was still screaming out there.
This morning I woke up and read four more issues of V for Vendetta. I played Planet Coaster 2 for just long enough to feel like I was wasting my time. I read four more issues of V for Vendetta. 
I walked up the hill, I passed the grocery store I was regularly a machine at and saw they had their metal shutters locked down over the windows. One of my managers was on a smoke break outside and I almost said something but didn’t. I sat at a nearby restaurant and ate a burger and finished the last issue of V for Vendetta.
I’m home now, typing this while being mostly silent in a discord call with my friends. I don’t know if I’m hiding or surviving. I know this is not as good a thing as I wanted to write. I don’t know if I will ever let anyone else read this, or why they would want to, or what they would gain from it. I just know that as much as I feel like a fraud who copies the style of others, I know that I do not have the gift of memory possessed by the current writer I would be accused of copying if I let any of my friends read this. Maybe I’m just borrowing his style in hope I borrow the ability to remember all these details. 
“Maybe they’ll give meaning to a plot one day.” is the god-awful sentence I typed next. 
=====
It is now November 30th. 
On November 12th I finally watched the film adaptation of "V for Vendetta". I watched it in a hurry, trying to squeeze it in before an important appointment I had before lunch. I had bought a DVD version a couple days prior but opted to watch it digitally instead, I feared the screech of my CRT. 
I had been pleasantly surprised when I found the DVD on the shelf. It had somehow gotten into my head, perhaps the color palette or the concept of a dark comic character, that this was a Zach Snyder film. My brain lit up when I saw the Wachowskis listed instead. I could not think of better people to adapt this comic. I've found that many of the things my Dad did not enjoy or did not opt to show me have been because they do not line up with his personal beliefs. Naturally I've loved all of those so far.
Sadly, "V for Vendetta" did not live up to the vision of the film that spontaneously popped into my head upon reading the word Wachowski. This film pulls almost every punch. It waters down characters and motivations: it removes themes of drug use and sexual abuse, it takes away the agency of every supporting character, it keeps the film away from any of the story's original historical context. Re-ordering scenes for the sake of movie pacing is necessary but it does so with wild abandon. It is the big slop Hollywood loves.
This is a film by people who's extremely personal queer project had blown up to massive proportions. The public wanted Matrix sequels and franchising of the standard Hollywood variety and the Wachowskis did not waver in their vision. The people with money knew that The Matrix could have been the next Star Wars and the Wachowskis did not allow it to be. They were under pressure to create something mainstream again, and they were still deep in the closet. 
So what did they do?
They made this film 15 minutes long.
"V for Vendetta", as directed by the Wachowskis, is the sequence consisting of Evey's imprisonment, torture, and release. It is untouched as it is from the comic. It is a shortfilm of raw queer emotion. It is an echo that reverberates from the 80s British Thatcherism it was birthed in by Alan Moore, to the 2000s Bush-era the Wachowskis fought to mass-broadcast it in, to November 5th 2024 as Trump was re-elected and I was quivering in the toilet stall at work, without losing an iota of resonance.
It lays there, between the watered down adaptation, between the storybeats with their sharp edges sanded, between the kind of flavorless dystopian fiction they feed us to make us feel like we're being naughty when we're not and the big explosions that do nothing but set off primal dopamine responses, between the removal of the stories' main theme of individual action (replaced with the common group uprising plot you'd see in The Hunger Games or Star Wars that is usually a type of Imperialism masquerading as Anarchy) and an honest to god bullet-time sequence that no doubt some exec said HAD to be in a movie with Wachowski in the credits. 
Two hours of runtime exist to fool the Hollywood execs. Fifteen minutes belong to us. 
I thought of none of these things the day I watched the film on November 12th. I watched it, I shut off my monitor, and I went to tour an apartment I will soon be moving into with my girlfriend. We are alive and we will soon be together.
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gurugirl · 11 months ago
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“It’s incredible isn’t it?”
You turned toward the man who seemed to almost appear from nowhere. You’d been so lost in the Jacqques-Louis David painting that you didn’t realize anyone was there until you heard his voice.
“It really is,” you looked back at the canvas, “Feels so significant to be standing here and seeing this in person.” “I agree. I keep coming back to this one. Sort of drawn to it.”
You nodded, looking up at the tall man who already had his gaze on you. It was then you noticed the color of his eyes. A starlit green encircled by a deeper green limbal ring, with dark lashes to highlight just how pretty his eyes were. But then you watched his pillowy pink lips stretch into a smile with dimples winking awake in his cheeks. He was gorgeous. Quite possibly the most attractive man you’d ever seen.
When he cleared his throat, you realized you had been staring and you both began to laugh at the same time.
“Sorry.”
You both said in unison which brought more laughter from you both.
“Why are you sorry?” He asked.
“Oh, because I was going to respond but then I just stared at you like a weirdo,” you puffed out a laugh.
“Really?” The man pulled his brows together in confusion, “I thought I was the one that was staring at you.”
. . .
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24th December >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Homilies / Reflections on Luke 1:26-38 for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Cycle B: ‘Let what you have said be done to me’.
Fourth Sunday of Advent, Cycle B
Gospel (Except USA) Luke 1:26-38 'I am the handmaid of the Lord'.
The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and said to her, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you.’ She was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God’s favour. Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.’ Mary said to the angel, ‘But how can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’ the angel answered ‘and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and will be called Son of God. Know this too: your kinswoman Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son, and she whom people called barren is now in her sixth month, for nothing is impossible to God.’ ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord,’ said Mary ‘let what you have said be done to me.’ And the angel left her.
Gospel (USA) Luke 1:26–38 Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son.
The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.
“Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.
Homilies (6)
(i) Fourth Sunday of Advent, Cycle B
This year the fourth Sunday of Advent coincides with Christmas Eve. The Season of Advent has been shorter than usual, three weeks rather than the usual four. The fourth candle on our Advent wreath will only be lighting for one day. On this eve of Christmas Day some of us may feel that we could do with a little more time to prepare for Christmas. John the Baptist has been the main character in the gospel readings for the last two Sundays. Today, the last Sunday of Advent, the focus is on Mary, the mother of Jesus. If John the Baptist prepares us for the coming of Jesus, Mary actually brings Jesus to us.
The gospel reading we have just heard has often been depicted by artists down the centuries, whether on canvas or in glass. It is as if artists recognize the great significance of this scene. God had a loving purpose for the world but if that purpose was to come to pass it needed the consent of a young woman in her teens, named Mary, from a small village in the region of Galilee in Northern Israel. A great deal depended on the consent of this young woman to what God was asking of her. God wanted her to be the mother of his Son, Jesus, through whom God could work for the present wellbeing and final salvation of all humanity. The son to whom Mary gives birth would have such an intimate relationship with God that he could be called ‘Son of the Most High’, ‘Son of God’. Because of the unique identity of Mary’s son, Gabriel declares to Mary that he would be conceived in a unique way, through the power of the Holy Spirit. This was a great deal for a young woman to comprehend and consent to. It is not surprising that the gospel reading says she was ‘deeply disturbed’ and was asking, ‘How can this come about?’ God was drawing very close to Mary and it left her with many questions.
The question of Mary in today’s gospel reading ‘How can this come about?’ is a very human one. It is the kind of question that is asked by others in the gospels. When Jesus was with his disciples in the wilderness in the presence of a hungry crowd, they asked him, ‘How can one feed these people with bread here in the desert?’ When we stand before a situation which seems beyond our resources to deal with, we can all find ourselves asking the same kind of question, ‘How can this be?’ ‘How will I deal with this?’ The angel Gabriel’s answer to Mary’s question invited her to trust not in herself but in God. ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you’. A lot was being asked of Mary and it would make great demands on her, but she was not being asked to take on the task of being mother to God’s Son in the strength of her own resources alone. It was in the power of the Spirit that she would give birth to Jesus and nurture him.
Our own question, ‘How can this be?’ ‘How will I get through this?’ can, as in the case of Mary, open us up to the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In today’s second reading, Saint Paul gives glory to God ‘who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News’. When we feel vulnerable and a little helpless, as Mary must have, the Lord can give us his strength in our weakness. The power of the Most High can overshadow us, empowering us to keep fighting the good fight. At those moments when we feel burdened, we can invite God to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves, to take us to places we cannot reach on our own. In the first reading, David had to learn that what he wanted to do for God was much less important than what God wanted to do and could do for him. David wanted to build a beautiful Temple for God. However, speaking through the prophet Nathan, God said, ‘The Lord will make you a house’, not a physical building, but a lineage, a dynasty, that would eventually give rise to Jesus, a descendant of David. God can always do far more for us than we can imagine, if we allow him to.
The gospel reading goes on to declare that, in response to Gabriel’s reassurance, Mary consented to what God was asking of her, ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord, let what you have said be done to me’. She gave herself over to God’s purpose for her life, even though she didn’t fully understand it. She surrendered in faith and trust to God. Because of her act of trusting faith, we all received God’s gift of Jesus. Mary’s trusting faith was a source of blessing for us all. She shows us that our own trusting faith in the Lord, even in those times when we have more questions than answers, will always be a source of blessing for others. Because of our faith, God’s loving purpose will come to pass not just for our own lives but for the lives of others as well.
And/Or
(ii) Fourth Sunday of Advent, B
If you were to ask a married couple how they came to fall in love, or if you asked two good friends how they came to be friends, they may have difficulty answering your question. They might say something like, ‘It just happened’. In one sense that may be true. In another sense it didn’t just happen. If two people are in a significant relationship with each other, be it marriage or friendship, it is because they have chosen each other.
Why does someone choose one person rather than another as a future spouse or friend? Having made that choice of the other, why might the other then reciprocate? Why does someone choose to share something of his or her life with someone else, and vice versa? There we are into the mystery of human freedom, human preference. The more significant relationships in life cannot be forced. Favour is freely bestowed by one person on another; that other person freely receives what is bestowed and freely reciprocates, and a new relationship is born. There is an element of mystery about all that.
If there is a mysterious quality to the relationship of one human being with another, that is even truer of the relationship between God and ourselves. Why did God choose Mary to be the mother of his Son? Why this particular woman in this particular small village at this particular time of human history? We are dealing here with the mysterious freedom and preference of God. Yet, there is a difference between God’s choice of Mary and the choice any one of us might make of another. When any one of us chooses another to love or to befriend, there is always, of necessity, an exclusive element to that choice. We choose this person rather than any number of others. Although we choose several people in the course of our lives in each case our choice of one excludes others.  
God’s choice of Mary was not exclusive in that sense. When God chose Mary, he was choosing all of us. He chose Mary for all our sakes. God chose her to carry God’s Son on behalf of us all, because her future child was God’s gift to us all. That is why how Mary responded to God’s choice of her was not just a matter that concerned herself. It concerned us all. We all had a vested interest in how she responded. Her response would also be our response. In a sense we looked to her to make an appropriate response on behalf of us all to God’s choice of us.
The good news is that Mary did not let us down. Although initially disturbed and then perplexed by God’s choice of her, she eventually surrendered fully to that mysterious choice of God. Having been graced in this mysterious way, she responded wholeheartedly, ‘Let it be to me according to your word’. God freely chose her, and she in turn chose to place her freedom at God’s service. God’s choice of Mary, and Mary’s choice of God in response had the most wonderful consequences for all of us. She went on to sing, ‘the Almighty has done great things for me’. But, in reality, because of her response to God’s choice, we can all sing, ‘the Almighty has done great things for us’. We have all been graced through Mary’s response to God’s choice of her.
If Mary’s response to God’s choice of her, God’s call, had enormous implications for us all, the same is true, to a lesser extent, of the personal response of each of us to God. How each of us responds or fails to respond to God’s choice of us always has implications for others. In that sense, my relationship with God is never purely private. It always has a communal dimension. It always impacts on others in one way or another. If I respond generously to what God is asking of me, my response will bear rich fruit for others. If I turn away from God’s call, others will somehow be impoverished. We are a pilgrim people journeying together towards the Lord. We are either helping or hindering each other on that journey.
In the second reading, Paul speaks about ‘the way the eternal God wants things to be’. If, like Mary, I live in tune with the way the eternal God wants things to be, others will be helped to live as God wants them to live. My ‘yes’ to God’s choice, God’s call, is never mine alone, no more than Mary’s was. It always has implications for others. God worked powerfully and creatively through Mary’s generous response. God continues to work powerfully and creatively through each of us, when we respond to his call and his promptings. Mary gave birth to God’s Son for others. As we approach the feast of Christmas we ask Mary to help each of us in our own way to give birth to God’s Son for others.
And/Or
(iii) Fourth Sunday of Advent
The four candles of the Advent wreath are now lighting. All that remains is the white candle at the centre of the wreath, which will be lit on Christmas day. We are moving ever closer to the feast of Christmas. John the Baptist, the forerunner of Jesus, has been the main character in the gospel readings for the last two Sundays; next Sunday, Christmas day, the focus will be Jesus himself. Today, the last Sunday of Advent, the focus is on Mary, the mother of Jesus. If John the Baptist points ahead to Jesus, Mary actually brings Jesus to us.
In today’s gospel reading, she is presented as saying ‘yes’ to a call from God, the call to be the mother of God’s Son. Her saying ‘yes’ did not come easily or immediately. The gospel reading states that initially, she was ‘disturbed’ by this call, and that she then went on to question it, ‘How can this be?’ Eventually, she surrendered to what God wanted of her with the words, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’. She stands in a long line of biblical women who faithfully served the purposes of God. Her readiness to serve God’s purposes had enormous implications for us all. Because of her generous response to God’s call, God’s Son became flesh, like us in all things but sin, and we were given the opportunity to become his followers, to take him as our way, our truth and our life.
This young woman from the insignificant village of Nazareth had enormous influence for good on all our lives because of her generous response to God’s presence. In many respects, her influence for good was unique among women and men. Yet, we can often underestimate the extent of our own influence for good when we too, like Mary, make ourselves available to serve God’s purposes. Our own ‘yes’ to what God may be asking of us will always benefit others. God worked powerfully through Mary’s responsiveness to the call she received. God can work powerfully through our own efforts to do whatever God may be asking of us. If I am living in a way that corresponds to God’s desire for my life, those with whom I am in contact will be built up by my presence and they will be supported in their own efforts to live as God is calling them to live. The opposite is also true. Our own failure to respond to the Lord’s promptings in our lives undermines others and makes their efforts to do God’s will all the more difficult. We are all interconnected. We live very interdependent lives, whether we are aware of that or not. That is especially true when it comes to our relationship with God. Putting it simply, our living well somehow enables others to live well also.
Responding to God’s call, serving God’s purposes, living as God is asking us to live, does not always come easy to us. There will often be an element of struggle involved. We often have to struggle to discover what God may be asking of us, and then we may find ourselves struggling further to do what God appears to be asking of us. The gospel reading this morning suggests that Mary’s ‘yes’ to God’s call came after a period of struggle. There was initial anxiety when she discivered what God was asking of her. There were questions to be asked. In our first reading we find David engaged in a similar, although different, struggle. It took David some time to discover what God was asking of him. Initially, he had his own ideas as to what God would have wanted. David had decided that he was going to build a magnificent house for God to dwell in, a temple. It seemed like a good idea, and the prophet Nathan supported David’s plan. Nathan told him to do all that was in his mind. However, it became clear that what was in David’s mind was not what was in God’s mind. God did not want David to build a temple. Through the prophet Nathan, the Lord said to David: ‘The Lord will make you a house’. David learned that what he wanted was not what God wanted. We are all prone to making the same mistake David made. We can confuse our plans and purposes with God’s plans and purposes. We can confuse what we want with what the Lord wants. As believers, we always have to be asking ourselves, ‘Is this really what God is asking of me?’ St. Paul in today’s second reading makes reference to ‘the way the eternal God wants things to be’. Mary was someone who understood the way the eternal God wanted things to be, and who responded fully to what God wanted.
When it comes to the task of discovering the way that God wants things to be and to the further task of living and acting in accordance with that, we are not left to our own devices. The second reading this morning begins with Paul’s great exclamation, ‘Glory to God who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News I preach’. The Lord works with us to help us to live lives that correspond to his purposes for ourselves and for others. Christmas is now very close, only one week away. In the run up to Christmas, we might ask the Lord to help us to discern what he may be asking of us over the Christmas period and to give us the strength to do what he may be asking of us. If our living of Christmas corresponds to God’s purpose for our lives, it will be a happier and a more blessed Christmas for those whose lives we influence.
And/Or
(iv) Fourth Sunday of Advent
Christmas is only a few days away now. Most of us are busy getting ready for Christmas. There are last minute presents to be bough, food to be prepared. Preparations are afoot for visitors. We will probably all be travelling over the next few days, visiting family and friends and being visited by them. Some of us will be travelling to our Christmas dinner. There is a lot of coming and going these days.
In these busy days, the gospel reading for this fourth Sunday of Advent presents us with a scene which is anything but busy. It is much more of a contemplative scene. It is a quiet, mysterious, and, yet, hugely momentous scene. The evangelist Luke attempts to capture in narrative form the moment in Mary’s life when she consented to what God was asking of her, when she said ‘yes’ to God’s call. Those very personal moments in our lives when we have a strong sense of God’s presence to us, of God touching our lives in a very powerful way, are difficult to talk about or to write about it. However, Luke attempts to capture the momentous exchange between God and Mary in that small house in Nazareth of Galilee. As Luke describes it, Mary’s initial response to God’s approach was one of great unease. ‘She was deeply disturbed by these words’, even though the words, in themselves, were very reassuring, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you’. Yet, Mary’s reaction is a perfectly understandable one. God’s ways are not our ways. God’s thoughts are not our thoughts. Any deep experience of God will always be disturbing in some way. Any kind of meeting with God, with the Lord, can never be a completely comfortable experience. Yes, God is Love, but authentic Love will always stretch us in some way, and call us beyond where we are. It is because an experience of God will always be disturbing to some degree that we can find it difficult to pray. Yet, when God disturbs us, the root of that disturbance is love and the fruit of it is new life.
Luke captures a second movement in Mary’s heart in response to this approach of God. When God begins to make clear to her what he is asking of her, she begins to question. The angel said to her, ‘You are to conceive and bear a son… He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High’. Mary’s response to that news was, ‘How can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ According to Luke, this would not be the last time she would question what God was doing in her life. Luke tells us that at the time of the birth of Jesus, Mary treasured all the words of the shepherds and ‘pondered them in her heart’. At the time when she and Joseph found Jesus in the temple, Luke states that ‘they did not understand what he said to them’, and that his mother ‘treasured all these things in her heart’. From the first moment of God’s call to her, Mary had to live with many questions, not all of which would be answered during the lifetime of her Son. Luke’s portrait of Mary suggests that deep faith can find expression in profound religious questioning. Sometimes when people find themselves beginning to question their faith they think that they are loosing their faith. On the contrary, questioning our faith can lead to a deepening of our faith. Part of the journey of faith is learning to live with questions. What more disturbing question could there be than the question which, in Matthew’s and Mark’s gospel, is to be found on the lips of Jesus as he dies, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ As people of faith, we will often find ourselves asking the question Mary asked in today’s gospel reading, ‘How can this come about?’ ‘How can this be?’ The onset of serious illness in our own lives or in the life of a close family member can leave us asking this question. In the gospel reading Mary received an answer to her question. We will not always receive an answer to our questions; we may have to live with them for a long time. Jesus’ answer from the cross was answered by the resurrection. Some of our questions will only be fully answered when we share in the Lord’s risen life.
The third movement within Mary that Luke depicts is that of surrendering to what God wants of her, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’. This is perhaps the most difficult movement of all, for all of us. In the second reading, Paul refers to ‘the way the eternal God wants things to be’. Mary gave herself over to the way the eternal God wanted things to be. Mary did not choose herself to be mother of God’s Son, God choose her; this was not Mary’s way, it was God’s way, to which Mary said ‘yes’, with profound consequences for all of us. As Christians we spend our lives trying to discern how God wants things to be and, then, struggling to live accordingly. It is Mary’s Son who reveals to us how God wants things to be, and it is the Spirit of her Son, the Holy Spirit, who then gives us the power to live in accordance with how God wants things to be.
And/Or
(v) Fourth Sunday of Advent
It doesn’t happen very often that the fourth Sunday of Advent coincides with Christmas Eve. The Season of Advent has been shorter than usual. The waiting of Advent has been reduced to three weeks. On this eve of Christmas Day some of us may feel that we could do with a little more time to prepare for Christmas. We may feel that everything isn’t quite ready. Even apart from this year, with its short Advent, we often feel as we approach Christmas that everything isn’t quite right. Some of us may feel that everything isn’t quite right at a personal level or at the level of our family this Christmas. Christmas can have a way of magnifying the sense of everything not being quite right.
The same could be said of the scene that is placed before us in today’s gospel reading. The principal character in the scene is a young woman, perhaps only in her early teens, who lives in an unknown village in a province on the very edge of the Roman Empire. She is betrothed to a young man in her village, named Joseph. Betrothal was much more than our engagement. The couple had entered into a legally binding relationship, probably at the initiative of the two sets of parents. They were married in the eyes of the law, without actually living together as husband and wife, which would usually only happen after twelve months of being betrothed. Yet, it is revealed to Mary by God that during this time of betrothal she is to conceive and give birth to a son. This child would be her son, but would also be God’s Son. It is no surprise that Mary is portrayed as distressed and full of incomprehension. She was ‘deeply disturbed’ by the words of Gabriel. She asked her heavenly visitor, ‘How can this come about?’ There is a whiff of scandal about the whole scenario. What will people say when Mary’s child is born too soon, before herself and Joseph came to live together as husband and wife? The situation is somewhat messy for Mary and Joseph and their extended families. Nobody could have planned this scenario.
Yet, in the midst of this messy situation, God brought forth an extraordinary blessing, not just for Mary and Joseph, but for all of humanity. Mary’s child, who was conceived and born in what must have seemed suspect circumstances by the standards of the time, would be none other than the Son of God. The Holy Spirit was powerfully at work in what was, from a human perspective, a very unsatisfactory situation. Gabriel says to Mary, ‘the Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow’. God is about to take up residence in the most difficult of circumstances. As a result, although neighbours may look upon Mary with suspicious eyes, God’s messenger declares her to be highly favoured and invites her to rejoice. Perhaps there is a message here for all of us. When all does not seem well with us, when our lives seem to us and to others to be somewhat out of kilter, we can be tempted to think that the Lord has abandoned us. Yet, perhaps it is above all in those times that the Lord is most intimately with us. It is often in those moments when we view ourselves or others view us poorly that the Lord is seeking to assure us that we are, ‘highly favoured’ in the words of today’s gospel reading.
The angel Gabriel declared Mary to be ‘highly favoured’. She was highly favoured because God had chosen her. It wasn’t that God chose her because she was highly favoured. Nothing is said in the gospel reading about Mary’s virtue or otherwise. In the passage that precedes our gospel reading, the annunciation of the birth of John the Baptist to Elizabeth and Zechariah, it was said of this elderly couple that ‘both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord’. Nothing similar is said of Mary. She is simply a very young woman in a little village of a remote province of the Empire. Yet, God mysteriously chose her and so she was highly favoured. Through God’s choice of Mary, God has chosen each one of us, because Mary’s child was God’s gift to us all. Because God has chosen us through Mary, we are all highly favoured, regardless of how messy our lives may seem to us or to others.
In the gospel reading, Mary displays a great openness to receiving God’s loving choice of her. Even though she does not fully understand how she could be so highly favoured by God, she welcomes this grace of God’s favour. She, thereby, opened a space in her life for God’s mysterious but loving purposes to prevail. Perhaps this is where we have something to learn from Mary. We can learn from her to allow ourselves to be graced by the Lord who has chosen us in his love and who relates to us as highly favoured. In whatever personal circumstances we find ourselves, our response to God’s loving choice of us can find no better expression than Mary’s final response to Gabriel, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’.
And/Or
(vi) Fourth Sunday of Advent
We are only a few days now from Christmas Day. It will be a different Christmas this year to what we have been used to. Hopefully, it will be a time when we can connect with one another again after so many months of isolation for so many people.  Because we are still living in Covid times, it may be a less hectic and calmer Christmas than we usually have, and that may not be a bad thing. It may be an opportunity to focus more fully on what is at the heart of all our celebrations. Christmas says something very important about God’s relationship with us and our relationship with God, and that great truth is worth reflecting upon and really taking to heart at this time of the year. It finds expression in the readings for this fourth Sunday of Advent, in particular, the gospel reading.
Artists down the centuries have recognized the significance of what is going on in this gospel reading for our life of faith and that is why they have given such plentiful expression to this gospel scene in art form. In our own parish church, we have a beautiful stained glass depiction of the annunciation to Mary. It is worth going over to it this Sunday and taking in the scene in glass with its beautiful colours. The setting for our gospel reading is the humble home of a very young woman in a small village of Galilee called Nazareth, a village that is never once mentioned in the Jewish Scriptures. Many would have asked the question we find on the lips of Nathanael in the gospel of John, ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’ Yet, it was this woman, Mary, from this village, Nazareth, whom God chose to be the mother of his Son. Why this woman, in this place, at this time? We can’t answer that question. We can only marvel at God’s mysterious ways which often defy human expectations. In the second reading, Paul says that God ‘alone is wisdom’. God’s wisdom often seems like foolishness to humans. God’s ways are not our ways. As Paul says in another of his letters, ‘God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong’, and Mary would have been considered among the ‘weak’ of the world. We can all count ourselves among the ‘weak’, because we are all weak in one way or another. Yet, just as God visited Mary in her home, God comes to each of us wherever we find ourselves. Although God’s loving choice of Mary had a unique quality, because she alone was chosen to be the Mother of God’s Son, God comes to each one of us and chooses us to serve his purposes in the world.
God’s choice of Mary still required her to make her choice of God. In choosing her, God needed her free response. The gospel reading suggests that Mary’s response to God’s choice of her only came after something of a struggle. Initially, we are told Mary was ‘deeply disturbed’ by the angel’s greeting. When it became clear to her what God was asking of her, Mary was full of very legitimate questions, ‘How can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ If Mary was to conceive and bear a son before she had come to live with Joseph, her betrothed, what would the people of this small village think? Mary must have sensed that what God was asking of her would be costly for her. Yet, after God’s reassurance, ‘Do not be afraid’, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’, Mary freely assents to what God was asking of her, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’. She places herself at the service of God’s purpose, and, as a result, she opened a space for God’s Son to dwell within her, and she carried him within her until she was ready to give birth to him for us all.
The way Mary responds to God’s choice of her in that reading speaks to how we respond to God’s choice of us. Like Mary, we can often find God’s involvement in our lives somewhat disturbing, leaving us with many questions. We can hesitate before God’s choice of us, sensing that it might cost us too much. Yet, God is prepared to wait on our free response, as he waited on Mary’s response. God will also assure us, as he assured Mary, that the Holy Spirit will overshadow us if we respond to his choice of us. We won’t be left to our own human resources alone. If, like Mary, we can place our freedom at the service of God’s purpose for our lives, then we too will create a space for the Lord to dwell in our lives and, like her, we will bring the Lord to others. God chooses us so that his Son, the Lord, might be born in our lives, and, through us, in our world. God wants us to make a dwelling place in our lives for his Son, so that with Saint Paul we can each say, ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me’. This is our core baptismal calling. In the words of today’s second reading, it is ‘the way the eternal God wants things to be’. 
Fr. Martin Hogan.
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jasonhackwith · 9 months ago
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New print available in the river Beautiful store: Lion of Judah, Lamb of God
I’ve always loved lions. And lambs. From the very first time I read the Chronicles of Narnia, I’ve dreamed of burying my hands into the friendly mane of Aslan. And I have held little lambs with their milky breath and softness. When I began this work, I wanted to capture the same expression in the lion and in the lamb. If you look closely, you will see that there are tears in the eyes of both. This is the God I have come to know, who weeps and cries and carries us when our little legs get tired; who embodies both the strong lion of Judah and the meek lamb of God.
This print is currently available in both a museum-quality poster and in a stretched canvas print, in multiple sizes to fit your décor and budget. It is my prayer that it always reminds you of Jesus.
"And I saw in the right hand of Him who sat on the throne a scroll written inside and on the back, sealed with seven seals. Then I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and to loose its seals?” And no one in heaven or on the earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll, or to look at it. So I wept much, because no one was found worthy to open and read the scroll, or to look at it. But one of the elders said to me, “Do not weep. Behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has prevailed to open the scroll and to loose its seven seals.” And I looked, and behold, in the midst of the throne and of the four living creatures, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as though it had been slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent out into all the earth. 7Then He came and took the scroll out of the right hand of Him who sat on the throne. Now when He had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each having a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. And they sang a new song, saying: “You are worthy to take the scroll, And to open its seals; For You were slain, And have redeemed us to God by Your blood Out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation, And have made us kings and priests to our God; And we shall reign on the earth.” Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels around the throne, the living creatures, and the elders; and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain To receive power and riches and wisdom, And strength and honor and glory and blessing!” And every creature which is in heaven and on the earth and under the earth and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, I heard saying: “Blessing and honor and glory and power Be to Him who sits on the throne, And to the Lamb, forever and ever!” Then the four living creatures said, “Amen!” And the twenty-four elders fell down and worshiped Him who lives forever and ever."  -- Revelation 5 (NKJV)
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24th December ‘Let what you have said be done to me’, Reflection on the readings for Fourth Sunday of Advent (Lk 1:26-38)
Fourth Sunday of Advent
This year the fourth Sunday of Advent coincides with Christmas Eve. The Season of Advent has been shorter than usual, three weeks rather than the usual four. The fourth candle on our Advent wreath will only be lighting for one day. On this eve of Christmas Day some of us may feel that we could do with a little more time to prepare for Christmas. John the Baptist has been the main character in the gospel readings for the last two Sundays. Today, the last Sunday of Advent, the focus is on Mary, the mother of Jesus. If John the Baptist prepares us for the coming of Jesus, Mary actually brings Jesus to us.
The gospel reading we have just heard has often been depicted by artists down the centuries, whether on canvas or in glass. It is as if artists recognize the great significance of this scene. God had a loving purpose for the world but if that purpose was to come to pass it needed the consent of a young woman in her teens, named Mary, from a small village in the region of Galilee in Northern Israel. A great deal depended on the consent of this young woman to what God was asking of her. God wanted her to be the mother of his Son, Jesus, through whom God could work for the present wellbeing and final salvation of all humanity. The son to whom Mary gives birth would have such an intimate relationship with God that he could be called ‘Son of the Most High’, ‘Son of God’. Because of the unique identity of Mary’s son, Gabriel declares to Mary that he would be conceived in a unique way, through the power of the Holy Spirit. This was a great deal for a young woman to comprehend and consent to. It is not surprising that the gospel reading says she was ‘deeply disturbed’ and was asking, ‘How can this come about?’ God was drawing very close to Mary and it left her with many questions.
The question of Mary in today’s gospel reading ‘How can this come about?’ is a very human one. It is the kind of question that is asked by others in the gospels. When Jesus was with his disciples in the wilderness in the presence of a hungry crowd, they asked him, ‘How can one feed these people with bread here in the desert?’ When we stand before a situation which seems beyond our resources to deal with, we can all find ourselves asking the same kind of question, ‘How can this be?’ ‘How will I deal with this?’ The angel Gabriel’s answer to Mary’s question invited her to trust not in herself but in God. ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you’. A lot was being asked of Mary and it would make great demands on her, but she was not being asked to take on the task of being mother to God’s Son in the strength of her own resources alone. It was in the power of the Spirit that she would give birth to Jesus and nurture him.
Our own question, ‘How can this be?’ ‘How will I get through this?’ can, as in the case of Mary, open us up to the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In today’s second reading, Saint Paul gives glory to God ‘who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News’. When we feel vulnerable and a little helpless, as Mary must have, the Lord can give us his strength in our weakness. The power of the Most High can overshadow us, empowering us to keep fighting the good fight. At those moments when we feel burdened, we can invite God to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves, to take us to places we cannot reach on our own. In the first reading, David had to learn that what he wanted to do for God was much less important than what God wanted to do and could do for him. David wanted to build a beautiful Temple for God. However, speaking through the prophet Nathan, God said, ‘The Lord will make you a house’, not a physical building, but a lineage, a dynasty, that would eventually give rise to Jesus, a descendant of David. God can always do far more for us than we can imagine, if we allow him to.
The gospel reading goes on to declare that, in response to Gabriel’s reassurance, Mary consented to what God was asking of her, ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord, let what you have said be done to me’. She gave herself over to God’s purpose for her life, even though she didn’t fully understand it. She surrendered in faith and trust to God. Because of her act of trusting faith, we all received God’s gift of Jesus. Mary’s trusting faith was a source of blessing for us all. She shows us that our own trusting faith in the Lord, even in those times when we have more questions than answers, will always be a source of blessing for others. Because of our faith, God’s loving purpose will come to pass not just for our own lives but for the lives of others as well.
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mozzymandiam · 1 year ago
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pt 2
I rode about an hour out of town before I came upon the horse and wagon abandoned by the edge of the road. Maybe the boy got tired and needed a rest. Maybe he bled out in the back of the wagon. I dismounted and pulled out my revolver and approached the wagon. I pulled the canvas flap back only to find nothin; nothing but dirt and bloodstains. I touched the blood and rubbed it between my fingertips, it was still fresh so he couldn’t be far from here. I stepped down from the wagon and looked out towards the coast. The rumbles and crashes of the waves echoed through the chilly air. The smell of salt tickled my nose hairs and stuck to the back of my throat. Though I was far from the water, I could still feel its mist caressing my face and soothing the hardened edges of my mind. There’s a strange power the ocean has: mesmerizing and hypnotizing. One of the most beautiful and dangerous things on this planet is the sea. She is dangerous, she is punishing, and knowing this, I and many others like me are drawn to her. With a deep breath, I break the hold she has on me and turn to my horse, but something catches my eye. The path that I stand on sits high above the cliff face, but through the reeds towards the edge something odd catches my eye: a tree. I’m no learned man, but a tree like that wouldn’t normally grow so tall and so close to the edge of the ocean like that. I am bewildered by this, and it's then that I see him; the young man I’ve been tracking, slumped against the tree trunk, gazing out upon the ocean. I make my way down through the dry grass and approach him. “You David?” I ask him. The kid is sweating bullets, the right side of his shirt covered in blood. He wrapped it to slow the bleeding, but obviously didn’t do a great job of it. “Who wants to know,” he mumbles weakly. “Holden. I was contracted by your master to hunt you down. Supposedly you stole something important,” I replied holstering my gun. No need defending myself against a dead man. “I didn’t steal nothin that didn’t belong to nobody,” he snapped, his gaze never leaving the horizon. “Gunna have to disagree with you there son. You dug up and stole a body. Graverobbin’ is a crime I deal with frequently, but I gotta admit, no ones got the balls to steal an entire body,” I approached the boy and squatted down next to him. We shared a moment of silence before I went on, “Listen, I promised your master two bodies: yours and the one you stole. And it looks like you could be checkin out any minute, so I’d like to know where the body is.” “Do you even know who she is?” his voice quivered. I looked towards the horizon and replied, “the master’s daughter.” “My mother!” he shouted. A surge of power traveled through his veins and sprang him up to his feet. I realized he gripped a shovel in his left hand, but I stayed calm, there was no way this string bean of a boy had any more strength left to lift it than to strike me with it. “She was my mother,” he sobbed and turned to the ocean once more. The waves crashed. The gulls cried. The grass danced. “Go on son,” I said to him, “In my line of work, I’ve heard many a dead man’s tale. Spotlight is on you son. Say what you wanna say.”
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newagesispage · 1 year ago
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                                                                      AUGUST            2023 
THE RIB PAGE 
Hooray for Ben and Jerry’s. They have ended sales in occupied Palestine territory. To celebrate the 4th, they asked for the return of stolen indigenous land to the Native American people. I am heading out to get more Ben and Jerry’s right now. They do have a lot of new flavors! 
***** 
Days alert: It seems that Ava will be back on the canvas. August will finally deal with Victor Kiriakis and we will miss him. Is Eric going to have more babes that he knows what to do with? The ex -man of God sure gets around. It sounds like Sloan’s bro is leaving and hooray for that. 
***** 
Ryan Murphy and former writers strike leader, Warren Leight, got into it. Leight tweeted that Murphy had threatened employees to cross picket lines. Murphy denied and wanted to sue. Leight stepped down. ** I have a dilemma about American Horror Story this season. To watch or not to watch??** SAG-AFTRA has joined the Writer’s Strike. 
***** 
My Pillow is auctioning off equipment as most stores have removed their products. The CEO also owes $5mil to Robert Zeidman but has filed a motion to toss out the ruling. 
***** 
Maine passed a bill to allow abortion whenever a doctor deems it necessary. ** States like Texas want it both ways, stop abortion but blame the doctors.   
***** 
Tom Bodett and Al Franken should work up an act. 
***** 
The Washington football team was sold to Josh Harris. 
***** 
New Jersey ‘s democratic Gov. Gave Chris Christie a free plug on Face the Nation. He boldly says, “I won’t be going to CHRIS CHRISTIE.COM.” 
***** 
There have been 2 pink dolphins seen in the waters off Louisianna. 
***** 
Pete Davidson has been given 50 hours of community service. 
***** 
Get ready for a George Santos censure. 
***** 
Biden has a 7th grandchild.** Bidenomics was used as a put down but it is turning out just fine. 
***** 
Bees are back. Thank you Obama!! 
***** 
6 states have instituted a universal free lunch program. 
***** 
Is this true?? Fox news used a photo of a married couple to promote ‘traditional marriage.’ It was later found that the pic was actually that of a same sex couple. 
***** 
David Byrne is bringing us Here Lies Love about Ferdinand and Emelda Marcos. 
***** 
Rex Heuermann has been arrested as the Long Island Serial Killer 
***** 
Leslie Van Houten is out of prison. Her parole has been reversed 5 times. She began a friendship with John Waters while confined when he wanted to interview her for Rolling Stone magazine. She declined at the time, but he did write a chapter about her in his book, Role Models. Leslie is 73 and will spend a year in a transitional facility. 
***** 
The Eagles are on a final tour. 
***** 
Pee Wee Herman was one of the greatest creations that I can think of. Our world without the playhouse seems very wrong. 
***** 
OMG.. First we lost Jackie Zeman then Andrea Evans. What is up over at the Bay?? 
***** 
Have ya heard this Dolly Parton and Ann Wilson take on Magic Man?? 
***** 
R.I.P. Lawrence Turman, John Deyle, Mark Seiler, Jane Birkin, bobby Osborne, Joseph Pedott, Carlin Glynn, Tony Bennett, Bill Geddie, Sinead O’Connor, Randy Meisner, Elise Finch, Andrea Evans, Angus Cloud, Paul Reubens and Sam Cutler. 
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storyofmychoices · 1 year ago
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It's so realistic that she can't can't keep track of the months anymore let alone the days. It's crazy to think that a world could exist without the notion of attention to specific days, but it truly makes sense and is perfect here to show how things have changed.
It's crazy to think that it's been a decade from the start of this series to the first journal entry here. I know the whole ordeal happened significantly before the book starts, but I never really took the time to fill in the gaps of what happened in that time. It's crazy to think how much could have happened, the big, the small, the mundane and the fearful.
But back to this...
The first entry truly shows how she is losing hope and it is heartbreaking. Our once strong Florence is giving up...
But Jim remembering the date, just so he can give his sons a birthday is beautiful.
Eli got his bow and he smiled! 🥺🥹
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That is such a powerful and important statement! ❤️
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This section hits different and I don't know why but I'm here thinking about what all the Jewish people went through during WWII, the hiding in silence, afraid to be seen or heard for fear for their lives, families under floorboards and in attics just trying to avoid the threat to their lives. Children being ripped from their parents and brutally attacked.... This story may be from a future we hope could never happen, but the truth is, there was a different time of horde that made people feel like this in our past. That is terrifying to think. It happened once, and I pray it never happens again, but people are crazy and extreme and I do fear what people are truly capable of.
It's so important to treasure every moment we have with everyone we love, for small moments of comfort are really a gift.
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Isn't that the truth? In any tragedy, the mental and emotional damage is far worse than anything physical and will always take longer to repair and it will never be the same. 💔
“It’s bad enough I had a drone lurch at me, but to see Eli’s underwear on his head as it did? Well, that was downright horrifying!”
LOL okay this was hilarious. Thank you for making me smile before you go and break my heart.
“Yes,” she clasped his hand. “Moments just like this. Where the sun is shining, and the autumn leaves are painting a canvas against the sky. Our clean clothes are drying on the porch, and, most importantly, I’m here with you. There is so much to be grateful for, even in this world, and that’s what I hold on to.”
🥺🥺🥺
. He believed Kenny took the family to a colony to give Nessa and Brady a chance to find better partners as they approached adulthood. “Better” than Eli or David. Despite the close bond the families had shared, in the end, the color of her son’s skin didn’t make them suitable partners for Kenny’s children.
😡 😡 😡 😡
Eli's the one that deserves better!
Two decades now... Crazy how time passes! Also that means the sad part is coming closer!
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This whole section 👏👏👏👏
AND THAT LAST JOURNAL PAGE!!!!
FLORENCE is a QUEEN!!!! She really is amazing and her journal is an amazing story.
This was far more heartwarming than I expected. Yes it's full of angst and emotions that you feel through your heart, but it's also a story of losing but then finding hope. It's not at all what I expected.
I know they won't be easy to read for Eli, but the love and devotion his mother poured into these pages will bring him some comfort. He'll always know he was loved above all else. His mother survived for him and his brother. Her family was her joy!!!
Ahh this was such an amazing series! I am beyond in awe of your vision and talent. You are incredible.
Also is this the end? If it is, I survived the angst and am happy it ended with this bittersweet ending (even though I know what happens to his family 😭) or will you be writing that inevitable end which will for sure bring the full on crying on the floor that I expected from this part!
@lilyoffandoms
A Mother's Journal - Part 4
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Book: Wake the Dead (pre-series)
Characters: Eli Sipes; Jim, Florence & David Sipes (his family)
Rating: Mature
Words: Approx 3,200 (including journal entries / text)
Warnings: Loss, past deaths, depression, adult themes.
Summary: In the final segment of this series, Florence is learning to survive after she's lost something dear - hope. Recent challenges have left her surrendering to what she sees as a bleak horizon for her sons. But as she battles through depression and guilt to try to find meaning and a reason to carry on.... and she imparts that knowledge to her son.
A/N: A quick note, this covers over five years' time, but you'll notice there are large gaps in the timeline. That's done on purpose as the family's existence has become more mundane. There was little to define the differences in years, much less days. This will mention the disappearance of the Jones family. This is covered in the 3-part series Coming Up Blank which outlines Eli's first romantic relationship with his best friend, Nessa, and her disappearance.
When I started this, I knew it would be painful to become familiar with the Sipes family, knowing their ultimate canonical fate. As a mother, getting inside Florence's head as she does her best to provide for her family during the most difficult times has left me a little heartbroken to let her go. I know this has been a difficult series to read, but I hope you've found the glimmers of hope contained within it.... because that's its true message. Thanks for taking the journey with me. | @aprilchallenge | Family, Love
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Fall 2038
Florence stepped onto the small front porch, a basket of wet clothing under her arm. It was Tuesday, which meant laundry day. While David had largely taken over that task, Jim insisted their youngest accompany him as he hunted. 
“He has to get better at this,” Jim insisted. “We won’t be here forever, Florence, and if anything should happen to Eli, David will need this skill to survive.”
Florence smiled as she recalled how David decided they would begin to dry their clothes on the porch. A wayward drone was plodding on the perimeter of their property when it stumbled into their clothing line. After untangling its mangled limbs, it wandered down the path, dragging their clothing behind it.
Nothing came easily in their world, and clothing was no exception. So losing the items was bad enough, but David had an even stronger argument for changing the process.
“It’s bad enough I had a drone lurch at me, but to see Eli’s underwear on his head as it did? Well, that was downright horrifying!”
Jim and Florence weren’t even sure the change would make a difference, but they didn’t care. They were so amused they agreed to it. David was so proud. Her youngest boy, with a poet’s soul, wasn’t made for this world. Despite the family’s best efforts to show him it wasn’t true, he often felt inadequate compared to his older brother, who adapted so well. So Florence knew this little change meant so much to her boy, and it made her happy each time she helped on laundry day.
Looking out into the field, she spotted Eli. He sat with his knees pulled up his chest, staring into the distance. With the last of the wash hung, she walked over to join her oldest.
“Do you mind some company?” she asked as she approached.
Eli glanced up without expression. He was unhappy that his father asked him to sit out this hunt, even though he understood why. But Florence knew it was more to it.   Eli had changed. Losing the Joneses hit hard, and the mystery surrounding their disappearance made closure impossible. Then the horror of the surge… the fear instilled in them all. The rebuild Florence knew was ahead of her family was still a work in progress.
“There’s no need to ask, Ma,” he replied.
“Of course there is! You’re entitled to some privacy if you wish.”
He turned to her with a slight frown. “Mom, there are four of us… how much more privacy do I need?”
They sat in comfortable silence; Eli was picking at the grass beneath him when he finally spoke.
“What was it like, Mom?” He asked. “I was so young when the parasite hit; I hardly remember it anymore. I was just a kid, and I never even knew what it was like to be an adult during those times. But you did. How difficult was it for you to adjust?”
Florence signed deeply and moved closer to her son. “It wasn’t easy, Eli, and if I had stopped to dwell on it, it might have been too much to bear. But, we didn’t have the luxury of dwelling. In those early days, we spent every second struggling to stay alive and keep ourselves safe. After that, learning how to provide for us out here, that was more than a full-time job. We just did what we had to do.”
“Do you still miss it….the way things used to be?”
“Of course,” she breathed. “But not as much as I used to. Initially, I hoped a cure would be found, and maybe we’d be able to return to how things were. But it’s been so long….”
“So you don’t have hope anymore?” he interrupted.
Florence swallowed, taking time to choose her words wisely. The truth was, in many ways, hope died long ago, but who was she to rob her son of it? Even if he had only the slightest spark within him, she couldn’t extinguish it.   
“It’s not that… it’s just been this way for so long now that… I’m just trying to find the best way to live within our reality. It doesn’t help to dwell on how things were or what we’ve lost. All I can do is take little moments and make them the best they can be.”
“Moment like this?” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.  
“Yes,” she clasped his hand. “Moments just like this. Where the sun is shining, and the autumn leaves are painting a canvas against the sky. Our clean clothes are drying on the porch, and, most importantly, I’m here with you. There is so much to be grateful for, even in this world, and that’s what I hold on to.”
“Do you ever…” he trailed.
“Ever what, son?”
“Do you ever wonder what happened to the Joneses?”
“I almost wish I didn’t, but I do.”
Eli felt tears welling in his eyes, wishing to hide them from his mother. He turned away and bit his cheek until they were held at bay. Only then did he respond.
“So do I,” he whispered.
A mother can tell what her child needs, and at that moment, Eli needed her presence and nothing more. Wrapping an arm around him, she held him tight and let him take the lead. They sat in silence for a long while before he spoke again.
“Mom, do you and Dad have any idea what happened to them… if you do… you’d tell us, right?”
Her breath hitched as she recalled the conversation she and Jim shared after their friends went missing. Jim was confident he knew why they left without so much as a goodbye. He believed Kenny took the family to a colony to give Nessa and Brady a chance to find better partners as they approached adulthood. “Better” than Eli or David. Despite the close bond the families had shared, in the end, the color of her son’s skin didn’t make them suitable partners for Kenny’s children.
Florence had promised her husband she would never utter a word of this to the boys; they had suffered enough. Florence agreed. While she didn’t like lying to her son and understood the agony of the unknown, she didn’t want to burden them with that load.
“Mom?” Eli asked, his eyes insisting upon an answer as Florence warred with herself over the right thing to do.
“No, Eli,” she insisted. “We don’t.”
“OK,” he nodded before turning away.  
The truth was, she didn’t know for sure, even if Jim’s suspicions seemed plausible. The only facts were that the Joneses disappeared without a trace. Her children’s only friends, their first loves, were stolen, now rendered to be no more than memories of the past. That was painful enough, and she wasn’t about to add the bitter sting of prejudice and racism to the mix.
Florence often felt contrite about the things she couldn’t give her children, so when presented with the opportunity to provide them with a precious gift, she gave it. She would allow Eli to remember Kenny Jones as the skilled archer who took an interest in him and helped make him the marksman he was today. She’d let him reminisce about the family who appeared to love him as one of their own. She wouldn’t allow the seeds of doubt that infested her mind, leading her to question every memory shared, to creep into her son’s. His present and future had been damaged, and she wouldn’t allow anything to corrupt his past too.
“You know it’s possible that we could see them again someday,” Eli muttered. “I know it’s not probable, but it’s not impossible.”
“No,” Florence half smiled, “it isn’t. I’ve seen a whole lot of bad things that seemed impossible come to be in my lifetime, so I’m holding on to hope that some of the good things that seem impossible will happen too. You know, you’re old for me to share this with now. There have been times over the years when it all seemed like too much. The burden and fears were too great, and I wanted to give up. But your father talked me through. He said the present was rough, but he refused to believe that’s all there would ever be. If there was even an inkling of hope for you or David to have some joy in your future, he would fight for it… and will I… and so should you.”
Eli smiled as he warmly embraced his mother, the two only coming apart when they heard voices in the distance. They turned to see David and Jim strolling down the path, though David seemed to be jogging more than strolling.
“Mom! Mom!” he beamed. “We’ve got dinner!”
“Oh, yeah?” Florence smiled. “What are we having?”
“Pheasant. Isn’t that one of your favorites?”
“It sure is,” she said, mussing up her youngest boy's hair.
“You’re getting good at this hunting thing?” Eli grinned.
“Do I have a choice?” David laughed.
His brother poked at his rib cage and chided him. “Not if you want to keep some meat on your bones.”
“Yeah, have to make sure I provide a good meal for the zombies,” David teased, earning a stern look from his mother.
“I joke! I joke!” David said contritely, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Well, thank God you don’t have to persist on being a comedian,” Florence laughed.
“Everyone good here?” Jim smiled as he reached the happy trio.
“We’re good,” his wife smiled. “We’re really good.”
“You know what we need,” Eli stated. “A family day at the lake, like old times.”
“Old times,” David mocked. “We went a few weeks ago!”
“I’m not that old,” Eli smirked. “So that’s old times to me.”
“I think we can manage one more trip before winter,” Jim nodded. “What do you say, Flor?”
“I say the boys should start planning the picnic!”
Eli and David rushed to the cabin, talking animatedly as they ran. Jim put his arm around Florence as they sauntered behind.
“They aren’t all bad days,” Jim said in his sweet baritone voice that melted Florence’s heart.
“No, they aren’t. They’re not all bad days at all.”
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Thank you so much for sharing this journey. ❤️
Perma: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @gryffindordaughterofathena @genevievemd @inlocusmads @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @sophxwithers @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @choicesficwriterscreations
WTD Only: @cariantha @kyra75 @lilyoffandoms @missameliep
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thesoftestirises · 3 years ago
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devour
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♡ pairing: marc x reader, steven x reader, jake x reader ♡ rating : 18+ ♡ word count : 2.8k ♡ warnings : nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, name calling   ♡ summary : steven decides to take you skinny dipping ♡ an : unbeta’d and adapted from an already existing wip - i decided to get something out while i’m still working on my jake/reader bet fic! please feel free to let me know if you see any mistakes
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“Are we almost there?” 
“Almost, just a few more steps.”
You shook your head and smiled. You hadn’t known Steven, and by extension, Marc and Jake, for very long. Originally, they were your security detail, keeping you protected as you helped them decode your father’s notes. But in the short amount of time you had spent together, you were completely endeared to all of them. It was only natural that your relationship went from one of necessity to one of mutual love and admiration. 
“Is this part of an elaborate plan to kill  me and get rid of my body?” You joked. 
“I can’t answer that without a lawyer present,” he said, his tone full of mirth. “We’ve just got to get down this hill and then we’ll be there.”
The sky opened up overhead and provided enough light for you to finally be able to see your surroundings. At the bottom of the hill was a pond, surrounded by weeping willows and wildflowers. The water reflected the moon and the stars on a perfectly still surface. Only the calls of crickets and owls filled the air. Fireflies danced around the two of you as the crisp summer breeze blew. It was an image too beautiful to be recreated on canvas. 
“Do you like it?” Steven asked. 
“I love it,” you said, turning to look at him. “Thank you for bringing me here.” 
“No need to thank me just yet, you haven’t even gotten in,” he said. 
“Gotten in?” You repeated, knitting your brows together. “Steven, I’m wearing pajamas. And we’re supposed to be in hiding, in case you’ve forgotten.” 
“So you’ve said.” 
“Are you suggesting skinny dipping right now?”
“Well, I’m not suggesting you get in the water with your fuzzy pants.” 
“Steven!”
“Y/N,” he said, his tone playfully mocking as he pretended to frown at you. “Stay by the edge if you want, but I’m getting in.” 
He stripped off his shirt right in front of you with no shame. You tried to keep your eyes elsewhere but your curiosity was overwhelming. Your gaze moved down his body, admiring the line of his shoulders, his well defined abs, and the veins that disappeared down his low slung pants. Of course it wasn’t enough that he had a beautiful face and a charming personality. He just had to be built like a Greek God. Everything about Steven seemed to be designed to test you and you were failing miserably. 
You turned around before he could take off sweatpants and heard him chuckle behind you. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. When you turned back, he was chest deep in the water. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his lips parting in a soundless sigh. Water droplets had collected along his shoulders and collarbones, leaving diamond like sparkles all across his skin that highlighted the Star of David around his neck. Like this, he looked even more ethereal. 
“Are you really not going to join me?” 
You sighed and stood up. “Turn around.” 
Steven grinned and did as you asked. You stripped off your shirt and glanced behind you, making sure that Steven wasn’t watching. When you were certain he wasn’t peeking, you finished taking off the rest and clumsily got into the warm water next to him. He smiled at you and came closer. 
“It’s nice, right?” 
“It’s weird,” you corrected. “We’re both naked.”
“It’s only weird if you make it weird. Remove that stick from your butt, spoilsport,” he said, splashing you in the face. 
You gaped in mock offense and splashed him back. “Who are you calling a spoilsport? I’m tons of fun!” 
“Yeah?” He said, flicking water at you. “I don’t think so.”
The two of you quickly descended into a playful water fight, splashing each other and trying to avoid the other’s attacks. It was dumb and immature, but it made you feel free. For a moment you forgot about all your problems and it was just you and Steven. He looked so happy, his eyes were filled with galaxies when he smiled. You wished you could freeze time and keep him like this forever. 
“Time out,” you gasped, giggling breathlessly. “I need a second.”
“There are no time outs. You’ve got to surrender,” he smirked. 
“Jesus. Fine. I surrender, your highness,” you said, rolling your eyes. “What do you want as your prize?”
“You.”
You laughed until you noticed his serious expression. “Steven?”
“Not quite, cariño.”
“Jake?” 
He didn’t respond, but you didn’t need him to. There was only one person who ever called you cariño.
He was close, so close. How did you not notice? Your legs were tangled together and his face was barely an inch from yours. You could practically count each of his eyelashes. For a moment, the world around you went silent and all you could hear was the sound of his breathing. He gently cupped your jaw and stared at your lips. You subconsciously licked them and watched the way his gaze followed your tongue. He moved closer until you could feel his warm breath over your lips and his skin on yours. 
You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his hesitantly. The contact was like being struck by lightning. You instantly melted into his hold. How had you ever lived without him? The hand he had on your cheek moved to the back of your head while you wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed in deeper and opened your mouth, letting him reacquaint his tongue with yours. You missed his taste so much, you couldn’t get enough and chased after his lips when he pulled back for air.
“So eager, cariño,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“You’re just as bad.”
He hummed and pulled you even closer until there wasn’t any space separating the two of you. He lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his hips. You could feel the line of hard cock pressed up against your inner thigh. There was no barrier between the two of you. If he wanted to push himself into you, he could. Your mouth went dry at the concept.
“I’m worse,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. “I’m desperate for you. You’re all I can think about these days. You haunt my dreams and my fantasies. Even in church, all I can think about is fucking you.”
“Oh God,” you said, dropping your head against his shoulder. “Jake, please.”
“Patience, cariño,” he said, moving his hands to your breasts and toying with your nipples while you squirmed. “It’s not fun if I just devour you whole.” 
You lifted your head and sloppily slotted your lips together. When you pulled back, you were an inch away from his face, your nose pressed against his. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to play with your food?”
“I think the food seems to like being played with,” he said, tilting his head a faux innocent smile on his face. ”Can I eat you out?” 
“Would you?” You asked, eyes wide.
“Of course. Might be a little complicated like this, but I’ve got an idea.”
Jake pulled you out the water and settled the two of you down on a pile of your own clothes. You shivered in the cool air, your skin beginning to prickle up in goosebumps. Jake kissed down the line of your body and opened your legs with very little preamble. You squirmed as he shuffled down so his face was positioned right at the apex of your thighs. He examined your entrance with his fingers, spreading your folds open and toying with your clit. You could feel yourself getting wetter under his focused stare and grew embarrassed. 
“Why are you looking at it like that?” You whined, throwing your head back. 
“Because it’s pretty,” he said, licking a wide stripe over your inner folds. You gasped and lifted your hips, surprised by the sudden movement. Jake’s tongue was so warm over your sensitive skin, it felt like he was lighting you on fire. “Hold still, cariño. I can’t touch you if you’re going to thrash around like that.” 
You nodded and tossed your hands to the side, grabbing at the clothes Jake laid out as a makeshift blanket. He returned his attention back to your wetness, this time focusing on your clit. It took everything in you to not move. Even the lewd, wet noises Jake was creating between your legs was driving you wild. You bit down on your lower lip harshly, nearly drawing blood as he sucked the little bead into his mouth and circled it with his tongue. After a few minutes of torture, he pulled off and replaced his mouth with his thumb so he could look at you. 
“You can scream as much as you’d like. No one can hear you out here.”
“Fuck,” you moaned, arching your back. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me.”
“No, I’m going to ruin you,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh and biting into the soft flesh. “Look at you. You came to me so pure, angel. Now you’re spreading your legs in front of my face like a common whore. Beg for me.”
“Please, Jake,” you cried. “Please put your tongue on me.”
“You’re out of practice, Y/N. Come on, I want to hear you sound desperate.” 
“Jake, please. No one can touch me like you. You make me feel better than anyone,” you said, flushing with heat. 
“No one?”
“Not a soul, just you. Please, please, please. I need you so bad I feel like I’m going to pass out.”
Jake finally conceded and spread your folds wide to lick right over your hole. You moaned and threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling at his silk like strands to try and get him to push his tongue deeper into you. He traced along your opening and pulled back to spit at your entrance. He used a finger to nudge his saliva inside of you and lifted his hungry gaze to your face. “Are you close?” 
You nodded and wrenched your eyes shut. 
“Eyes on me. Use your words, cariño.”
You forced your exhausted body onto your elbows and looked at his face. His mouth and chin were glistening wet, but his eyes were focused and unaffected. You suddenly like a helpless animal between a handsome predator’s teeth. “I’m close.”
“Don’t look away. I want to watch you fall apart.” 
You nodded, desperate and dizzy with pleasure. He smiled at the glassy look in your eyes before returning his focus to bringing you over the edge. One harsh suck at your clit and you were tumbling into the void of his dark gaze, gasping as he held your overstimulated clit in his mouth and continued licking at you. 
“What-?”
“I want you to come for me again,” he told you, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your folds before pulling back and replacing his lips with his fingers. “You think you can handle that?”
You hurried to nod and whimpered as he tortured your sore clit with his thumb. He eventually moved his pointer finger to your entrance, teasing the rim before sinking inside. You moaned, toes curling at the pleasurable pain of Jake stroking along your hypersensitive walls. He continued kissing and biting at your thighs while you sighed at the featherlike brush of his lips against your most intimate areas. Jake managed to push a second finger in alongside the first when you seized up and came again, crying his name and thrashing in his hold. He relented and withdrew from your body, placing gentle kisses all along your stomach and thighs. 
“You were so good for me. My perfect little angel.”
You sighed and collapsed, closing your eyes. “I think I could fall asleep like this.” 
“Tempting, but I don’t think you’d be too happy with that choice in the morning. Come on, cariño,” he said, taking your hands into his and pulling you up and into his chest. 
You hummed and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, pressing your lips right against his pulse point. You were happily basking in his warmth when a thought occurred to you. “I didn’t get you off.”
He laughed and stroked your cheekbone with his thumb. “It’s okay, angel, you don’t need to reciprocate. I liked touching you.” 
“But you got me off twice! Let me suck your dick,” you insisted, lifting your head away from his shoulder and looking at him with a pout. 
“Next time, okay?” He said and kissed your lips.
You pulled away and winced at the bitter, musky flavor. “Ugh, is that what I taste like? That’s awful.”
Jake paused, closing his eyes. When he opened them next, his posture shifted minutely, becoming more rigid and proper in the way you generally associated with a different alter.
“Marc?” You asked, searching his face. 
“Hi, baby,” Marc said, a soft smile spreading across his lips. 
“Guessing you saw all of that?”
“Mhmm. And I heard what you said about your taste.”
“Right, I have no idea how you guys can stand that,” you said, laughing self deprecatingly. 
“You taste addictive to me. I could spend the rest of my life between your thighs.”
he told you, completely destroying the playful atmosphere and sending it plunging back into a dizzying, heady territory. 
He kissed you again and reached between your legs to return his fingers to your drenched folds. He gently rubbed your swollen and abused clit as he licked into your mouth and murmured dirty things against your lips. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it? Mine to touch and play with?”
“Yes, it’s yours. I’m yours.”
“Can I get you to come one more time, baby?” He asked, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I want to watch you fall apart in my arms.”
Your thighs were practically shaking and you were still exhausted from the previous orgasms he had given you. If you had an ounce of sense left in you, you would have politely declined. But as it was, you did not. You nodded your consent and allowed him to rearrange you so your back was pressed against his chest. He wrapped an arm securely around your stomach and returned his free hand to your entrance. 
“Look,” he whispered, kissing the shell of your ear. “See how pretty your pussy is?”
You watched his fingers stroke along your inner lips and gasped, the image so much more intense than the feeling. It was one thing to know you were wet, it was another thing to see yourself dripping all over someone else’s hand. You watched him sink a finger into you and squirmed as you began to feel him pressing along your inner walls. 
“It’s so small and delicate, isn’t?” he said, his voice low and quiet as pulled his finger out to the first knuckle before slowly pushing back in. “My cock could tear your poor little body in half.”
“Marc,” you moaned, reaching backwards and threading your hand into his hair.
“I love the way you say my name,” he whispered, slipping a second finger into you and holding you still as you twisted in his grip. He spread his fingers inside you, attempting to stretch out your entrance. “You’re still so fucking tight. I want to wreck you so bad, baby. Do you think you can take a third?” 
“Yes, fuck. Please.”
Marc kissed the top of your head and slowly traced his ring finger over your hole. Your breath caught in your throat as he sunk into you, his movements agonizingly slow. The breach of the third finger burned more than you thought it would. You bit back a scream once he was fully buried in you, tossing your head back and clamping your legs around Marc’s hand. 
“Are you doing alright, angel?”
“Yeah, just give me a second.” 
He nodded and pressed chaste kisses along your face while you adjusted to having a third finger inside of you. You sighed and shifted, releasing your death grip on his hair and moving your hands down to his knees. You slowly opened your legs back up and turned your head to look into Marc’s dark eyes. His gaze was soft and admiring, flitting around every feature of your face like he was desperately trying to commit this moment to his memory. 
Without a word he moved his fingers to your sweet spot, punching a gasp out of you. You fell forward and reconnected your lips, letting Marc swallow your noises until you were on the verge of coming. You broke the kiss and kept your eyes locked on his as he pushed you over the edge one last time, your mouth falling open to sigh his name. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your temple and pulling his fingers out of you as you collapsed into his chest breathlessly. “You took me so well, baby. No one can compare to you. Such a good girl. My good girl.”
You accepted his comforting kisses and caresses with a tiny smile on your face. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow, aren’t I?” 
“Probably,” he agreed, a smug grin on his lips.
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8th April - Fr. Martin's Reflections / Homilies on Today's Mass Readings (Inc. Luke 1:26-38)for the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord: ‘Let what you have said be done to me’.
Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord
Gospel (Except USA) Luke 1:26-38 'I am the handmaid of the Lord'.
The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and said to her, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you.’ She was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God’s favour. Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.’ Mary said to the angel, ‘But how can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’ the angel answered ‘and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and will be called Son of God. Know this too: your kinswoman Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son, and she whom people called barren is now in her sixth month, for nothing is impossible to God.’ ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord,’ said Mary ‘let what you have said be done to me.’ And the angel left her.
Gospel (USA) Luke 1:26–38 Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son.
The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.
Reflections (5)
(i) Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord
The gospel reading we have just heard has often been depicted by artists down the centuries, whether on canvas or in glass. It is as if artists recognize the great significance of this scene. God had a purpose for the world but if that purpose was to come to pass it needed the consent of a young woman, named Mary, from a small village in the region of Galilee in Northern Israel. A great deal depended on the consent of this young woman to what God was asking of her. God wanted her to be the mother of the one through whom God would work for the wellbeing and final salvation of all humanity. The son whom Mary would bear would have such an intimate relationship with God that he could be called ‘Son of the Most High’. Because of the unique identity of Mary’s son, he would be conceived in a unique way, through the power of the Holy Spirit. This was a great deal for a young woman to comprehend and consent to. It is not surprising that the gospel reading says she was ‘deeply disturbed’ and was left with many questions, including the question, ‘How can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ God was drawing very close to Mary and it left her with many questions. When God draws near to us and we draw near to God, we too will find ourselves asking many questions. We come to realize that the answers we have given to our questions about God are not adequate. God is so much more mysterious that we imagined, so much more wonderful. The gospel goes on to declare that, in the end, Mary consented to what God was asking of her, ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord, let what you have said be done to me’. She gave herself over to God’s purpose for her life, even though she didn’t fully understand it. She surrendered in faith and trust to God. Because of her act of trusting faith, God’s purpose for all humanity came to pass. Mary is a wonderful model of trusting faith in God, when all is not clear, when we have more questions than answers. She also shows us that our faith, our trusting relationship with the Lord, will always have life-giving consequences for others. Because of our faith, God’s purpose, not just for our own lives but for the lives of others, will come to pass.
And/Or
(ii) Feast of the Annunciation of the Lord
The feast of the annunciation celebrates the moment when Mary said ‘yes’ to God’s call to be the mother of God’s Son. The gospel reading suggests that her ‘yes’ did not come without a struggle. When God first approached her through the angel Gabriel, Mary was ‘deeply disturbed’. When Gabriel went on to announce God’s purpose for Mary’s life, Mary was full of questions, ‘How can this be?’ It was only when Gabriel spoke for the third time that Mary surrendered to what God was asking her through Gabriel, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’. The gospel suggests Mary’s ‘yes’ to God’s call did not come effortlessly; it was not a foregone conclusion. Yet, because of her ‘yes’ we have all been greatly blessed, and, so, today, on the feast of her annunciation, we give thanks for her generous response to God’s call, which has been a source of grace for us all. The portrayal of Mary in this morning’s gospel reading suggests that our own response to the Lord’s call will never be easy; it will always involve something of a struggle. The reading also suggests that, as in the case of Mary, our saying ‘yes’ to the Lord will be a source of blessing for others. My relationship with the Lord may be personal, but it is never private. It always has consequences for others. When I am generous in my response to the Lord’s call, as Mary was, others are helped to come to the Lord. Mary has been described as the first and the model disciple of the Lord; we look to her to inspire us as we seek to take to Lord’s call to heart; we ask her to pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.
And/Or
(iii) Feast of the Annunciation of the Lord
In the gospel reading this morning Mary is portrayed by Luke the evangelist as someone whose initial response to the call of God was to raise questions. After she was greeted by the angel Gabriel as ‘highly favoured’, Luke tells us that she was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean. Then when Gabriel announced that she would give birth to a child who would be called Son of the Most High, she asked, ‘How can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ Mary’s questioning did not cease when her child was born. When the shepherds came and told her all they had seen and heard, Luke tells us that Mary treasured their words and pondered them in her heart. When her twelve year old son went missing and was eventually found in the Temple, Mary questioned him, ‘Child, why have you treated us like this?’ When Jesus answered her question by saying that he must be about his Father’s business, Luke tells us that Mary and Joseph did not understand what he said to them and that Mary, in particular, treasured all these things in her heart. The picture Luke gives us of Mary is of a woman who is full of questions, who ponders deeply on all that was happening in her life so as to understand it more fully. She models for us a reflective faith, a faith that seeks to understand. Theology has been described as faith seeking understanding. Mary was a theologian in that sense. Indeed we are all called to be theologians in the sense in which Mary was one. Like her, we too ask questions about God and Jesus and about what it means to respond to God’s call to us in Jesus; like her we are invited to ponder the great mysteries of our faith so as to grow in our understanding of them. As people of faith, we are to be searchers after truth, like Mary. In our searching we have the encouragement of the Lord’s promise to us, ‘Seek and you will find’. 
And/Or
(iv) Feast of the Annunciation of the Lord
There is a lot of very concrete information at the beginning of this evening’s gospel reading: Galilee, Nazareth, Joseph of the house of David, Mary. There is reference to a very particular place, Nazareth in Galilee, and to a very particular couple in that place, Joseph who was betrothed to Mary. It was that particular couple in that particular place at a particular moment in time whom God chose in a special way for the sake of all of humanity. It was to that couple in that place at that time that God’s Son was entrusted for all of us. The gospel reading concludes with the confident declaration, ‘Nothing is impossible to God’. Yet, the one thing that God cannot do is to force our consent. God’s purpose for our lives was dependant on the consent of this particular woman in this particular place at a particular time, and, also, on the consent of her spouse, Joseph. Mary’s consent to God’s messenger allowed God’s purpose to come to pass for all of us. In a certain sense, at the moment of the annunciation, Mary represented us all; we all waited for her to say ‘yes’ to God on all our behalves. All of humanity’s deepest aspirations were focused on this particular woman, place and time. At the annunciation, God’s call met with the complete human response, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’. Luke is presenting Mary here as the exemplary disciple, the one who hears the word of God and keeps it. Because of her exemplary response to God, she became a source of blessing for all of humanity. If we can enter in some way into her response to God’s call, we too will be a source of blessing for others.  
And/Or
(v) Feast of the Annunciation of the Lord
The gospel reading this morning portrays Mary as saying ‘yes’ to God’s call on her to become the mother of God’s Son. The gospel suggests that her response to God’s call did not come easily to her. Initially she was ‘deeply disturbed’ by the greeting of the angel. She was full of questions in response to the further words of the angel. ‘How can this come about?’ she asked. She eventually arrived at the point where she could say, ‘Let what you have said be done to me’. However, she only came to that point after a lot of struggle. We amreminded of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. His prayer eventually brought him to the point where he could say, ‘Not my will but yours be done’. However, that was only after a great struggle, in the course of which he had prayed, ‘Remove this cup from me’. The experience of Mary and of Jesus remind us that responding to God’s call, remaining faithful to God’s will for our lives, will always involve a struggle of some kind. The nature of that struggle will be different for each of us. We engage in that struggle knowing that we are not alone in it. The power of the Most High will overshadow us; the Holy Spirit will come upon us, as it came upon Mary. In our struggle to be faithful, we are also encouraged by the words of Gabriel to Mary, ‘nothing is impossible to God’. In the words of Paul’s first letter to the church in Thessalonica, ‘The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do this’. 
Fr. Martin Hogan.
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