#bring on wednesday it may destroy me i fear
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literary-lesbian · 29 days ago
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roy saying it's a surprise to see lisa at the hospital and she has to take a moment to think, to come up with something because yes on the surface it doesn't make sense for her to be there, to roy and to everyone else she's just the mother of one of carla's employees, maybe a friend. why would she be there when someone like bobby isn't, like the people she's worked with for years aren't? but also, secretly, why is she there? she doesn't deserve to be considered close to carla after the things she said, the way she acted. she said they needed to keep their distance. that she didn't want anything to happen between them. so the walls go up and she is professional again, a detective, but she looks at ryan, asks him because he gets it, knows how she and carla tick together, maybe understands how she's feeling and why she's here.
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anonymousewrites · 4 months ago
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A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 4) Chapter Four
Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader
Chapter Four: Threatening Pips
Summary: Lady Carmichael brings a case to the Holmses, and it is quite the unusual one. (Y/N) begins to put together the pieces of the puzzle.
            “Mr. Holmes, I have come to you and your associates for advice,” said Lady Carmichael. True to Mycroft’s suppositions, she had indeed come with a case for them.
            “That is easily got,” said Sherlock.
            “And help,” added Lady Carmichael.
            “Not always so easy,” said Sherlock.
            “Something has happened, Mr. Holmes. Something…” Lady Carmichael paused. “Unusual. And terrifying.”
            “Then you are in luck,” said Sherlock.
            “ ‘Luck,’ ” repeated Lady Carmichael, offended.
            “Those are our specialties,” said Sherlock.
            “And our favorite,” said (Y/N).
            “(Y/N),” said John in a low tone, warning them.
            “What is the problem?” asked (Y/N), ignoring John.
            “I…I thought long and hard as to what to do, but then it occurred to me that my husband was an acquaintance of your brother and that perhaps through him…” She trailed off and shook her head. “The fact is I’m not sure this comes within your purview, Mr. Holmes.”
            “No?” Sherlock raised a brow.
            “Lord help me. I think it may be a matter for a priest,” admitted Lady Carmichael. “My husband has always been…jolly. Teasing me at all moments of the day. I rarely see him serious, let alone somber. Yet he received a strange letter recently, and the moment he opened it…he was left pale as a ghost. He was frightened. Of course, I went to see what the letter said, but there was nothing. The only contents of the envelope were orange pips. He claimed they meant ‘death’ and refused to say more, but his distress has remained clear and constant.”
            “Did you keep the envelope?” asked Sherlock.
            “My husband destroyed it,” said Lady Carmichael. “But it was blank. No name or address of any kind.”
            “Tell me, has Sir Eustace spent time in America?” said Sherlock.
            Lady Carmichael frowned. “No.”
            “Even before your marriage?” said (Y/N).
            “Well, not to my knowledge,” said Lady Carmichael.
            Sherlock hummed. “Pray, continue with your fascinating narrative.”
            “Well, that incident took place last Monday morning,” said Lady Carmichael. “It was two days later on the Wednesday that my husband first saw her.”
            “Who?” said John, confused.
            “I wasn’t sure at first. On Wednesday, I found him staring at the grounds, white as a sheet. When I tried to discover what was wrong, he just sobbed and claimed that his sins had returned to punish him,” said Lady Carmichael. “He said it was a bride.”
            “And you saw nothing?” said (Y/N).
            “Nothing,” confirmed Lady Carmichael.
            “Did your husband describe—”
            Lady Carmichael cut Sherlock off. “Nothing. Until this morning. This morning, I awoke early to find him missing from bed. I spotted him in the maze on our grounds, and, of course, I followed him. But instead of finding him alone, I found with a woman. She was a bride wearing a veil.” She shook her head. “Eustace…My dear Eustace was just staring in fear.” She swallowed. “The bride just stared back, and when I tried to shake some sense into my husband who was in a trance, he could only say one thing: ‘she is Emelia Ricoletti.’ ”
            (Y/N) cocked their head.
            “And then she did speak,” said Lady Carmichael. “She said, ‘On this night, Eustace Carmichael, you will die.’ ”
            Sherlock and (Y/N) were left in silence as they contemplated all that they’d been told.
            “Holmes? (Y/N)?” prompted John.
            “Hush, Watson,” said Sherlock.
            “But Emelia Ricoletti, the bride,” he hissed.
            “Well, you know the name?” said Lady Carmichael.
            “You must forgive Watson,” said Sherlock. “He has an enthusiasm for stating the obvious which borders on mania. May I ask, how is your husband this morning?”
            “He refuses to speak about the matter,” said Lady Carmichael.
            That would be men, thought (Y/N).
            “Obviously, I have urged him to leave the house,” said Lady Carmichael.
            “No, no, he must stay exactly where he is,” said Sherlock.
            “Well, you don’t think he’s in danger?” said Lady Carmichael, frowning.
            “No, someone’s trying to kill him,” said (Y/N). “And that’s good.”
            “That’s good?” repeated Lady Carmichael, aghast.
            “We need bait,” said (Y/N).
            “(Y/N),” hissed John.
            “My husband is not bait,” said Lady Carmichael.
            “He could be if we play our cards right,” said Sherlock, completely on (Y/N)’s side. “You must go home immediately. Dr. Watson, (Y/N), and I will follow on the next train. There’s not a moment to lose. See, Eustace is to die tonight.”
            “Holmes!” said John.
            “And we should probably avoid that,” amended Sherlock.
            “Definitely,” snapped John.
            “Definitely avoid that,” said Sherlock.
            Lady Carmichael just stared at Sherlock and (Y/N) like they were crazy (which was not far off from the truth, at times).
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            “I don’t suppose—”
            “No, we don’t, and neither should you,” said Sherlock before John tried to talk about the bride again.
            “You don’t know what I was going to say,” said John.
            “You were about to suggest there may be some supernatural agency involved in this matter, and I was about to laugh in your face,” said Sherlock.
            “But the bride,” said John. “Emelia Ricoletti, again, a dead woman walking the Earth.”
            Sherlock sighed. “You amaze me, Watson.”
            “I do?” said John.
            “Since when have you had any kind of imagination?” said Sherlock.
            “I thought that was required of writing stories,” said (Y/N).
            “Not for murder, apparently,” said Sherlock.
            “Perhaps since I convinced the reading public that an unprincipled drug addict was some kind of gentleman hero,” said Watson pointedly.
            “Former drug addict,” said Sherlock. He didn’t do that now that (Y/N) was around.
            (Y/N) tilted their head. “Did you change my character?”
            “I make you actually show emotion,” said Watson.
            “That’s rather boring,” said (Y/N).
            “But now that you mention it, that level of persuasion is quite impressive,” said Sherlock. “You may rest assured, however, there are no ghosts in this world.” He looked down. “Save for those we make for ourselves.”
            (Y/N) cocked their head. “What?”
            Sherlock just stared out the window. Still, he felt their heavy gaze on him.
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            “Somnambulism.” Lord Carmichael glared at Sherlock, John, and (Y/N) coldly.
            They had finally arrived at the Carmichael estate and had been met with a defensive Lord of the house.
            “I beg your pardon?” said John.
            “I sleepwalk, that’s all,” said Lord Carmichael. “It’s a common enough condition. I thought you were a doctor. The whole thing was a…bad dream.”
            “Including the contents of the envelope you received?” said John.
            Lord Carmichael scoffed. “Well, that’s a grotesque joke.”
            “Well, that’s not the impression you gave your wife, sir,” said John.
            “She’s a hysteric, prone to fantasies,” said Lord Carmichael coldly.
            “No,” said Sherlock shortly.
            “I’m sorry, what did you say?” said Lord Carmichael, incredulous at someone speaking up to him.
            “I said, no, she’s not a hysteric,” said Sherlock. “She’s a highly intelligent woman of rare perception.”
            “My wife sees terror in an orange pip,” said Lord Carmichael derisively.
            “Your wife sees what is truly of value in this world,” said (Y/N). “She has observation where most have none.”
            “Does she really? And how does a child deduce that?” sneered Lord Carmichael.
            Instantly, Sherlock stepped up behind (Y/N). No one got away with speaking down to them like that, and Sherlock would tell Lord Carmichael off promptly.
            But (Y/N) spoke first. With a smirk that spelt danger, they said, “She married you. Apparently, she was capable of finding a reason to.” They tilted their head. “I admit I can’t find one.”
            Lord Carmichael’s face turned red, and he made the fatal mistake of taking a step towards them. Sherlock intervened and glared coldly at Lord Carmichael. Should he make the mistake of trying to hurt them again, Sherlock would have no mercy.
            “I’ll do my best to save your life tonight,” said Sherlock coldly, though his resolution was waning by the moment. “But first, it would help if you would explain your connection to the Ricoletti case.”
            “Ricoletti?” Lord Carmichael feigned ignorance to the name.
            “Yes. In detail, please,” said Sherlock.
            “Never heard of her,” said Lord Carmichael.
            (Y/N) nearly smirked again. They had him in a lie because how could he know it was a “her” unless he knew the case of the bride.
            “Interesting. I didn’t mention she was a woman,” said Sherlock. “We’ll show ourselves out. I hope to see you again in the morning.”
            “You will not!” declared Lord Carmichael, not realizing how stupid the statement sounded.
            “Then we will be solving your murder,” said (Y/N). “Good day.”
            John sighed as they walked towards the exit of the house. “Well, you tried.”
            Sherlock paused and handed a letter to a butler. “Would you see that Lady Carmichael receives that? Thank you, good afternoon.”
            “What was that?” asked John.
            “Lady Carmichael will sleep alone tonight upon the pretense of a violent headache. All the doors and windows of the house will be locked,” said Sherlock.
            “You think the specter—”
            (Y/N) raised a brow, and John coughed.
            “—Uh, bride, will attempt to lure Sir Eustace outside again?” said John.
            “Certainly,” said (Y/N). “What else would the threat portend?”
            “ ‘This night you will die,’ ” murmured John. “But he won’t follow her, surely?”
            “It’s difficult to say quite what he’ll do,” said Sherlock.
            “Because he’s obviously more of an idiot than most people,” said (Y/N).
            Sherlock couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, and guilt is eating away at his soul.”
            “Guilt? About what?” said John.
            “Something in his past,” said Sherlock. “The orange pips were a reminder.”
            “Not a joke?” said John.
            “Not at all,” said (Y/N). “Orange pips are a warning of avenging death originating in America.”
            “Sir Eustace knows this only too well, just as he knows why he is to be punished,” said Sherlock.
            “Something to do with Emelia Ricoletti?” said John.
            “We presume,” said (Y/N).
            “We all have a past, Watson. Ghosts,” said Sherlock. “They are the shadows that define our sunny days. Sir Eustace knows that he’s a marked man. There’s something more than murder he fears. He believes he is to be dragged to hell by the risen corpse of the late Mrs. Ricoletti.”
            “That’s a lot of nonsense, isn’t it?” said John.
            “Oh, God, yes,” said Sherlock.
            “Did you bring your revolver?” asked (Y/N).
            “What good would that be against a ghost?” said John.
            “None,” said (Y/N). “Did you bring it?”
            “Yeah, of course,” said John.
            “Then, come, Watson, come,” said Sherlock. “The game is afoot.”
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            Night had long since descended on the Carmichael Mansion. The moon barely shone through the fog hovering over the grounds. While Sherlock, (Y/N), and John waited for the last lights of the household to go out, they crouched in a small greenhouse where they could see everything going on. (Y/N) was lying back on a bench, Sherlock was sitting stone-faced, and John was pacing.
            “Get down, for Heaven’s sake,” said Sherlock.
            “Sorry,” said John, taking a seat. “Is the lamp still burning?”
            “Yes,” said Sherlock. As he spoke, a light was extinguished. “There goes Sir Eustace.” Another went out. “And Lady Carmichael. The house sleeps.”
            John groaned. “Mm, good God, this is the longest night of my life.”
            “Have patience, Watson,” said Sherlock.
            “I should have brought a booklet of those stupid little riddles and games,” said (Y/N). “That would have given me at least half an hour of entertainment.”
            “You should have patience, too,” said Sherlock. “If you’re truly that bothered, get some rest.”
            “I don’t like to sleep on a case,” said (Y/N).
            “When did you last sleep more than two hours at a time?” said Sherlock.
            (Y/N) didn’t reply.
            “Precisely. Rest as long as you can here, and once this case is done, I’m timing you until you reach six hours of sleep,” said Sherlock.
            “No need to make this scientific,” murmured (Y/N) as they closed their eyes.
            Sherlock smiled slightly and fondly pushed (Y/N)’s hair out of their face as they rested. John watched him with a soft smile of his own. Out of the entire population of the world, Sherlock had a soft spot for only one—his child. John had to admit, it was endearing, even if Sherlock was loathe to admit it at times.
            John managed to remain silent for nearly another hour and let Sherlock just sit silently with his kid, but once it reached midnight, he couldn’t remain silent any longer. He needed some conversation to keep going.
            “You know, it’s rare for us to sit together like this,” said John.
            “I should hope so. It’s murder on the knees,” said Sherlock. That’s why he’d made sure (Y/N) lay down. No need for his kid to be uncomfortable.
            “Two old friends just talking, chewing the fat, man to man,” rambled John. Sherlock didn’t respond. John cleared his throat. “She is a remarkable woman.”
            Sherlock frowned. “Who?”
            “Lady Carmichael,” said John.
            “The fair sex is your department, Watson,” said Sherlock. “I’ll take your word for it.”
            “Well, you liked her, a woman of rare perception,” said John.
            “And admirably high arches. I noticed them as soon as she stepped into the room,” said Sherlock. He noticed all things about people, so it blurred together.
            “She’s far too good for him,” said John.
            “You think so,” said Sherlock.
            “No, you think so, I could tell,” said John.
            “On the contrary, I have no view of the matter,” said Sherlock.
            “Yes, you have,” said John.
            “Marriage is not a subject upon which I dwell,” said Sherlock.
            “Why not?” said John.
            “What’s the matter with you this evening?” said Sherlock, frowning.
            “You already have a child. Why do you insist on pretending you have no heart?” said John.
            “It gets in the way,” said Sherlock.
            John sighed. “Holmes, you took in (Y/N) and made them part of your family. So why do you still fight and try to keep yourself distanced?”
            “I cannot put them in harm’s way,” said Sherlock quietly. John looked at him. “I am…soft with (Y/N). I am kinder with them than I am any other.” He gazed out the window. “Someone will use that against me. And if I am compromised by emotions when that time comes, how will I help them? How can I help them when I couldn’t help…?” The world buzzed, and Sherlock blinked. The soft whine of a dog echoed through the night, and he furrowed his brow.
            “Good god!” exclaimed John.
            Sherlock was broken from his trance, and (Y/N) was awoken by the cry. They sat up, and the three peered out the windows. Floating near the mansion was the bride. She seemed to shiver as if not there, yet the outfit was exactly what Emelia Ricoletti had worn.
            “What are we to do?” breathed John.
            “Why don’t we have a chat?” said (Y/N), no fear whatsoever. They were merely curious and eager to understand their theories and how this fit into their suppositions. They moved to the door and flung it open.
            Sherlock grinned at (Y/N)’s bravery, and for a moment, all his fears for what his enemies could do to them flew from his head. That was his kid right there, through and through. He followed them into the night.
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6th December >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 15:29-37 for Wednesday, First Week of Advent: ‘They all ate as much as they wanted’.
Wednesday, First Week of Advent
Gospel (Except USA) Matthew 15:29-37 The crowds praised the God of Israel.
Jesus reached the shores of the Sea of Galilee, and he went up into the hills. He sat there, and large crowds came to him bringing the lame, the crippled, the blind, the dumb and many others; these they put down at his feet, and he cured them. The crowds were astonished to see the dumb speaking, the cripples whole again, the lame walking and the blind with their sight, and they praised the God of Israel.
But Jesus called his disciples to him and said, ‘I feel sorry for all these people; they have been with me for three days now and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them off hungry, they might collapse on the way.’ The disciples said to him, ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ Jesus said to them, ‘How many loaves have you?’ ‘Seven’ they said ‘and a few small fish.’ Then he instructed the crowd to sit down on the ground, and he took the seven loaves and the fish, and he gave thanks and broke them and handed them to the disciples, who gave them to the crowds. They all ate as much as they wanted, and they collected what was left of the scraps, seven baskets full.
Gospel (USA) Matthew 15:29-37 Jesus heals many and multiplies the bread.
At that time: Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, went up on the mountain, and sat down there. Great crowds came to him, having with them the lame, the blind, the deformed, the mute, and many others. They placed them at his feet, and he cured them. The crowds were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the deformed made whole, the lame walking, and the blind able to see, and they glorified the God of Israel.
Jesus summoned his disciples and said, “My heart is moved with pity for the crowd, for they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, for fear they may collapse on the way.” The disciples said to him, “Where could we ever get enough bread in this deserted place to satisfy such a crowd?” Jesus said to them, “How many loaves do you have?” “Seven,” they replied, “and a few fish.” He ordered the crowd to sit down on the ground. Then he took the seven loaves and the fish, gave thanks, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied. They picked up the fragments left over–seven baskets full.
Reflections (6)
(i) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
As families look ahead to Christmas, they begin to think about the Christmas day dinner. Who will be present? How much food do we need to buy? Are there people living alone we could invite? On Christmas day, we value all the more our gathering around a table with others to eat and drink. In the first reading, the prophet Isaiah describes a very special feast. The host is no ordinary human host; it is the Lord. Those who gather are not just the members of one family, but are representatives from all the peoples. Even more striking, it is a banquet at which death is destroyed forever and the tears associated with death are all wiped away. When Jesus spoke of eternal life, he drew on Isaiah’s vision of a banquet of life, declaring that people will come from north, south, east and west to eat in the kingdom of God. Every gathering around a table where people feel welcomed and valued is a small foretaste of this heavenly banquet. In the gospel reading, Jesus hosts a banquet in a deserted place for a large crowd. Even though the resources they offer him are small, seven loaves and a few small fish, he works powerfully through them so that everyone gets to eat as much as they want. Here is a special foretaste of the banquet in the kingdom of God. The prayer and actions of Jesus, thanking God for the food, breaking it into pieces, giving it to the disciples, also anticipates the prayer and actions of Jesus at the last supper, when Jesus gave himself as food and drink to his disciples. The risen Lord does the same at every Eucharist, giving himself to us as bread of life. Our gathering around the table of the Lord at Mass is a powerful foretaste and anticipation of our final gathering at the banquet of eternal life, where our deepest spiritual hunger and thirst will be satisfied.
And/Or
(ii) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
There are two questions asked in this morning’s gospel reading. One is asked by the disciples and the other is asked by Jesus. The question that the disciples ask - ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ – is a somewhat despairing question, or, at least, a defeatist question. It is a question that does not really have any hopes of an answer. The question that Jesus asks – ‘How many loaves have you?’ – is a much more focused question. It is a question that already points people in the direction of a solution to the problem they were facing, the problem of how to feed a large crowd in a deserted place. Jesus’ question called forth those seemingly insignificant human resources among the crowd, seven loaves and a few fish, that he could nevertheless work with in a very powerful way. Today’s gospel assures us that Jesus can work powerfully through the little that we possess. If he is to do that, however, we may need to ask the right kinds of questions, not the kinds of questions that leave people feeling that nothing can be done, which was the kind of question the disciples asked. We need to ask hopeful questions, the kind of question Jesus asked, questions that encourage us to look at what we actually have been given, and to trust that the Lord can accomplish far more with those resources that we might imagine.
And/Or
(iii) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
Elevated ground features in both of our readings this morning. In the first reading, the prophet speaks of a mountain where the Lord will be the host at a great banquet. This will be a banquet of rich food and fine wines, where all mourning, sadness and shame will have been removed, and where even death itself will have been destroyed. Here is a vision which lifts us beyond the world as we know it towards another world where all is as God wants it to be. In the gospel reading, Jesus goes up into the hills and large crowds go up the hills after him. There in the hills of Galilee, Jesus gives speech to the dumb, mobility to the lame, sight to the blind. He goes on to feed the hungry with very limited resources. He feeds them so well that all ate as much as they wanted, and, even then, there were seven baskets full left over. The vision of Isaiah in the first reading becomes something of a reality in the gospel reading. Both readings speak to us of a God who wants us to have life and to have it to the full. It was Saint Irenaeus who said that the glory of God is the human person fully alive. In the gospel reading, the Lord needed others to bring the sick to him; he needed the disciples to help him feed the crowd. He continues to need us if his life-giving work is to get done. Advent calls on all of us to be instruments of the Lord’s life-giving and healing presence in the world. In Advent we pray, ‘Come Lord Jesus’. We also offer ourselves as channels for the Lord’s coming.
And/Or
(iv) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
This morning’s first reading from Isaiah is often chosen as the first reading for a funeral Mass. It is a vision of a great feast on a mountain at which the Lord is host and from which all mourning and death have been banished forever. It is truly a feast of life. It is a vision which anticipates much of what we find in the gospels. Jesus often spoke of the kingdom of heaven, the kingdom of God’s life, as a great feast to which people from north, south, east and west would come. In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus provides a feast of life in the wilderness. It was an unexpected feast because the resources available for the feast were so few, seven loaves and a few small fish. Yet, Jesus worked powerfully through those meagre resources. The evangelist understood that feast as an anticipation of the Eucharist, where again the Lord works powerfully through meagre resources, offering us his body and blood under the simple form of bread and wine. The church has always understood the Eucharist, in turn, as an anticipation of the great banquet of eternal life. The Eucharist, like the banquet of the first reading and of the gospel reading, like the final banquet of God’s kingdom, is a feast of life, and we are sent from the Eucharist to promote life in all its forms.
And/Or
(v) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
In the first part of today’s gospel reading, Jesus heals the broken and the crowds who witness it are astonished at Jesus’ life-giving work and praise God because of it. Jesus appears to be working on his own. Immediately after this time of ministry, Jesus attends to the needs of the crowds. Noticing how hungry they are, he has compassion for them, and sets himself the task of feeding them. However, on this occasion, he doesn’t work alone; he involves his disciples very directly. He shares his concern with the crowds with his disciples; he questions them about the resources of food to be found among the crowds; he involves them directly in feeding the crowds from these resources. Perhaps there is an image here of how the Lord works today. There are times when he engages very directly with people who come to him in their need, as in the first part of the gospel. There are other times when he needs his disciples to minister to people in the way he wants. He needs us to give expression to his own compassion for people, just as he needed the disciples in the gospel reading. Like them, we may feel inadequate before the task the Lord seems to set us, ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ Yet, today’s gospel reading shows us that the Lord can work powerfully through what can seem to us to be very inadequate resources. Our equivalent of the seven loaves and the few fish can be enough for the Lord to do his work, if we entrust those resources to him and create space for him to do his life-giving work through them.
And/Or
(vi) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
I am often struck by the question of the disciples in today’s gospel reading, ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ Jesus wanted to feed the hungry crowd and didn’t want to send them away. The disciples could see no way of doing this. Their question is a very human one. It is the kind of question we all ask when we find ourselves faced with a situation that seems beyond us. We often encounter situations in life that make us very aware of our limitations. We can easily shrink before such situations and we can be tempted to lose heart and throw in the towel. Yet, where we see problems, the Lord often sees possibilities, provided we do whatever we can do, little as it may seem to us. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus took the few resources the disciples had, seven loaves and a few small fish, and then, with their help, he fed the whole crowd with those resources. It wasn’t a case of everyone getting barely enough. No, ‘they all ate as much as they wanted’. The evangelist, Matthew, is suggesting that we must never underestimate what the Lord can do through our human resources, small as they may seem in our eyes, provided we give generously of them. As Saint Paul knew from his experience, the Lord can work powerfully through our weakness. Indeed, sometimes it is our very weakness, our vulnerability, our inadequacy, that can give the Lord the greatest scope to work through us, provided we trust in him to do so.
Fr. Martin Hogan.
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pinkspiraling · 2 years ago
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please tell me what to do with my life!! please like actually if you have a second
last wednesday i came super close to quitting my job impulsively and i told myself that i could wait until the next wednesday to decide. and guess what tomorrow is wednesday so it’s time for you to decide for me lmao. here’s the pros and cons. firstly, i am super suicidal and have been since at least june. it’s been absolute hell and i have completely destroyed myself. a customer service job is draining me quickly and they have me do so much training i’m just sick of being so relied upon. they do pay me more than most starting jobs however (bc i’ve been there a while. and it’s starting jobs without experience so i could hypothetically get a new job that pays more). but also i have no intention to get a new job, i’m struggling so so much i don’t want to have a job until mid may (and that’s if i have to). here’s the other thing…my dad is a workaholic who makes crazy money and loveeeeessss to guilt trip his kids about how much he has sacrificed. basically if you’re not ambitious he doesn’t understand you and thinks you’re a piece of shit :) and i am not ambitious at all i just want to feel a crumb of contentment in this miserable world lol. if i take time off work i do think i should admit myself or go to rehab or something…at the very least therapy. so much has happened and i am so deep into addiction and depression i just know i need to step away from my surroundings. but i feel crazy crazy guilt about costing my parents that money and quitting my job and just expecting them to help me. they have the means to but my dad guilt trips us about money all the fucking time. last year he made a joke about how therapy should have fixed me by now. and now i’m not in therapy and i won’t go back bc i can’t afford it by myself and i can’t bring myself to ask them to pay for it even tho i know they would. there’s so much shame and fear in me and i am afraid it will make things worse. but i also feel like i genuinely won’t be able to keep working although i think that’s just my symptoms talking cause things are getting so much worse. maybe i am sort of agoraphobic now, but it’s so hard to leave my room like it doesn’t feel safe out there and i don’t have panic attacks but i do have crazy anxiety that is just overwhelming to face so id rather avoid it. idk if i’m agoraphobic or have avpd or bpd or something else cause i just feel like there has to be something else like something is really wrong. anyways, if i do quit, my family will be super confused and worried and think im a horrible lowlife piece of shit. i won’t argue with it but i hate that they will think of me that way and i am afraid. idk give me advice pls if you have any at all idk what to do but i’m too depressed to work i am barely surviving but idk if it’s worth it to be more insecure and ashamed bc of my family’s reaction
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panopticon-entertainment · 1 year ago
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The End of the World is a Freeway Exit
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Mile ∞ tells the story of an old woman, Eve, who cares for the freeway exit/entrance at the end of the world. From her daily routine to a gift from a god, Eve tells of the pieces of ∞ that led her to greatest accomplishment. The story is told in four parts: “The End of the World is a Freeway Exit.”, “The Last Rest Stop on Earth.”, “The Mile Man.”, and “I Am.”
Listen on Youtube & Spotify - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEMF40m4J4A
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"The end of the world is a freeway exit. The end is beautiful. The end is infinite and ever sprawling. A perfect blue sky always runs above the final interstate. 
I-∞. 
Somewhere in the distance the road drops off; the normal eye cannot perceive it, but any normal brain understands what is out there.
“Wrong Way”
“No Return”
“Exit 0”
“Mile ∞”
These are some of the unique signs I daily work around. I mow the lawn at the end of the world. I am aged in years and have resided at the end of the world for a long time. I only see people at the end, and one day I, too, will board the Caravan. I want to tell whoever it may concern what life was like for me at the end of the world.
The end is beautiful; I do not know why people fear it so. Nary a storm passes over this land. No storms equal no fear, correct? Is that not what humans desire? Clear skies? Sunshine and flowers; critters and rolling fields? That is truly what the end of the word boasts.
Five patches of grass I have to mow. On my monstrous mower, it takes two hours per section–except for the narrow little one which hugs the U-Turn. Each—besides little 2.5—slopes up to hug the roaded bridge that runs perpendicular over I-∞. Steep hills are fun to mow. Vertically is the recommended way, but somedays I dare traverse the hills at such an angle anyone else would fear rolling to early demise. It is exhilarating! And that action helps checker these oversized lawns in such an appealing way. I do not always dare it.
The grass here is green. Not yellow green, nor blue green, nor light green, nor crayon green. No. Only a pure, true grass green with very few highlights makes up these lawns. Almost solid, almost perfect. The few highlights come mostly in patches of weeds. I know I ought to demolish them, but they yield the cutest, sweetest, little pansy flowers when the grass is at its wild apex. They are so lovely and so comforting, I durst not to delete them. Oh, and when I say the grass here grows, it grows! On a poor week it grows still a foot. In a week, I have seen it reach my waist. I am not large in stature, but I still find it novel. The edge of the world is so fertile. I suppose it must be due to the fertilizer the Matter Mobile brings to the world.
The Matter Mobile returns from the Beyond on Wednesday. It exits again on Thursday, or Friday. I suppose that depends on its load. Matter cannot be created nor destroyed, but what form it takes or to where it goes, I know not. Is it just carbon? Does it contain things like chalk, cut grass, and ashes: things that blow away unrecognizable in the wind? I do not know. I have never seen the form of that who drives the Matter Mobile.
That is every Wednesday. Wednesday, I walk the perimeter and area of my grassy fields picking up trash; the culmination of which I leave in bags for the Mile Man to take to the beyond. I already know what trash has befallen my lovely lawns for Monday is the day I mow. I do not mow over the trash for it leaves such nasty scatters on my perfect pastures. So, as I plug away on my mower I step off and set aside the trash on what I have already mowed for later.
Tuesday, I weed eat everything my lawnmower cannot reach. As time goes on, I wax slower and slower, but that is all right for Tuesday is the day the Mile Man crosses the bridge. Driving his mighty caravan, the Mile Man shuttles those who Time has chosen to let go. On Tuesdays, I look eagerly upon whatever horizon—the return or the exit—for the distant sight of the Mile Man so that I may do the other facet of my job.
There is no road in this whole world that truly connects the World to the Beyond. I-∞ runs solitary only transversed by the three vehicles that come from the Beyond. So, when one of these sacred vehicles must take Exit Zero, I unfurl a road—piece together a road. The road looks like a large puzzle of foam and is as brightly colored as the flower garden. I build it across my grass to the U-Turn so each vehicle may float above the grass and the laws of nature. For the Matter Mobile, it is twice a week—one return and one exit. For the Chariot, it is whatever odd time it comes. For the Mile Man, it is always once a week on Tuesday. Every other week he returns from the beyond to collect bodies with tickets for I-∞. These days always interest me for the Mile Man is a fine creature. A sweet creature who smiles and conversates when possible.
For all intents and purposes, I am the only being who traverses this land on foot, but sometimes on Tuesday, or even Mondays, I find a Traveler who dares to flee from their ride on the Mile Man’s Caravan; those unwilling to go. The homeless, debtless, lifeless bodies that try to flee from I-∞. When I find those on my land, I take them to my garden (which I tend on Fridays) and proffer them the fruit they like most in the world. I will comfort them, and I will intake the travelers’ stories until the Mile Man comes, exits the Caravan, and walks them from Mile ∞ to the Miles Beyond.
It was to the Mile Man I made the request to grow a garden on the Fishbowl (section two). It is truly the final oasis: the final beauty. The final meal at the end of the world. I grow every type of fruit and berry, and even a few vegetables. At heart, I am a simple gardener.
I love the end of the week not for it being the end, but because I do my favorite jobs. Thursday, I tend to the plants. All the trees and the flowers that hide the ugly supports of the bridge, and the little pond cultivated in that Annex. It is tender work. Of course, Friday, I tend my garden.
Saturday and Sunday, I am not on my perfect little land. Saturday, I must take care of myself. Cleaning my RV and venturing into the dusty city for sustenance and sometimes entertainment. Sunday, I rest and stay awake all night to watch the specters that haunt the last Rest Stop on Earth.
Sometimes, on these days, I am called to the freeway to build the bridge for what or whom I call Heavenly Father’s Chariot. It is a blue model-T car which comes to and from the world inconsistently and sporadically. I do not know who Heavenly Father’s Chariot brings to and from this world. I know not what lies beyond I-∞. A benevolent watchmaker? A god? Not a thing at all? A second level? Another time or another place? I know not, and I care not. All I know is that car is sacred.
I do so love my job. I love the freeway. Somedays, I work with only the silence of the edge of the world, and the powerful noise of my destructive machinery. Somedays, I do not acknowledge I am staring down all our final journey. I listen to music and human stories of love and comedy. Somedays, I cry; somedays, I do not remember. Somedays, I wonder when my weathered bones will be swept off my aching feet by the Mile Man and gently belted into the front seat of the Caravan. I wonder when will my calloused hands travel past Mile ∞ to the Beyond where the road and the sky meet.
The edge of the World is a Freeway exit, and I am the eternal grounds keeper.” - ↻
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noire-pandora · 2 years ago
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Day 3-Prayer
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For @dalish-appreciation-week​
Day 3: Prayer (Wednesday Oct 12th). Elluin finds a moment to pray to the Dalish gods before the Arbor Wilds battle. Also on my Ao3. Reblogs kudos and comments are appreciated and welcome. Thank you!
The sunlight shone on Elluin's red breastplate, and the magic infusing the metal sparkled as if brought to life by the heat of the sun. The bloodstone fused perfectly with the metal of the armour, a conductor for Elluin's fire magic. In it, she felt like a true leader, ready to lead her people to victory over Corypheus. But as much as the armour amplified the flow of her magic, wrapping her in a thick, protective layer, Elluin's hands still trembled behind her back, where she hid them from the expectant eyes of the soldiers, ready to sacrifice their lives for the good of the world.
The Arbor Wilds, with its dense forest and muddy path, promised to be the last place of battle for them and for Elluin. There they could defeat the mad god and bring peace. Under the guidance of the Inquisitor, they hoped the months-long battle would come to an end. Nausea rose in Elluin's throat at the responsibility that rested on her shoulders. Even with Cassandra's advice echoing in her head, even with Vivienne's magic lessons on her lips, Elluin could not stop the trembling of her fingers, no matter how tightly she clenched them.
With every pair of eyes fixed on her, hoping to take in her encouragement, with every bow and nod, the knot in Elluin's throat grew larger and larger. She had to do something about it before it crushed her.
"Inquisitor?" asked Josephine in a whisper as Elluin spun on the soles of her feet and rushed away from the reading army. She waved weakly at Josephine with her left hand before plunging deeper into the forest.
Surrounded by the silence of the trees, Elluin heard her heart beating against her ribs like a bird begging to be released from the confines of a cage. Her chest rose and fell with the fury while white dots danced behind her eyelids. She knew if that continued, the soldiers would find her passed out in the wet grass.
'Life will challenge you at times.' The words of her Keeper leapt into her mind, words she had heard many years ago when she knew nothing but her clan. 'And when you feel the world crushing you, pray. Perhaps the gods cannot help you directly, but you will find the strength to resist.'
At the time, Elluin sulked because she did not understand how praying would help her when the gods were trapped by the Trickster. After many years of walking the paths of the world, she had rarely prayed, and when she did, it was only for a few seconds.
"I know I haven't been the most faithful, Creators." she began as her legs finally gave way and she sank to her knees. Looking up, to the sky, Elluin spoke to her gods. "But I need you to take away my fear, for this may be the last time I wear this armour." She paused, closed her eyes and tried to remember the words she had learned from her Keeper. "Mighty All-Mother, I bear your mark on my forehead, for I must lead my people in battle. I ask you to give me the strength to defend them.
"Elgar'nan, the All-Father and the Eldest of the Sun, give me the strength to burn my enemies with the flames of my fire. May my magic shine as brightly as your vengeance."
"Falon'Din, Friend of the Dead, watch over us from the Fade and welcome my soldiers in your arms. Those who will fall in battle for their family and friends. Lead them to a better place.
"Dirthamen, Keeper of Secrets, bless my sight so that my enemies can keep no secrets away from me.
"Andruil, Goddess of the Hunt, guide us so that we may hunt and destroy our enemies without our hands or hearts trembling.
"Sylaise, the Hearthkeeper, pour your love over our healers so that their hands may return the spark of life to my wounded soldiers.
"June, God of the Craft, bless our weapons and guide them to their targets so that our enemies may fall to the ground before they can harm my people.
"Ghilan'nain, Mother of the Halla, grant us the grace and strength of a Halla to resist and withstand our enemies.
Elluin's knees ached after the few minutes she had spent kneeling in the mud and on the pebbles, but her soul cried out to her gods, even if they had no power to truly help. Still, her heart stopped wrestling in her chest, and her breathing calmed, as if prayer took all the fear and uncertainty out of her mind where it could no longer harm her. Her joints cracked as she stood up again, ready to lead her people to victory now that the gods had their eyes on her. She took two steps into the squishing mud before stopping and biting her lips, unsure of what words she wanted to speak next. Nevertheless, she opened her mouth and whispered the words, not knowing if she should say them:
"Fen'Harel, Trickster and Wolf god, sharpen my mind so that none of my enemies can outwit me."
She waited, shoulders hunched, a shiver of fear running down her spine. A small part of her mind, the one which had to listen to all the cautionary tales about Fen'Harel, waited for the god to appear before her with a proud grin, ready to mock her and her prayer.
But Fen'Harel did not come. He did not answer, just as none of her gods answered, but that no longer mattered. Her heart and breath were as calm as the sea at midday, and with that out of the way, she marched back to her soldiers, ready to lead them to victory.
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gerbithats · 5 years ago
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A long sims 4 rant
Starting this I can already predict it’s gonna be a big one so if you stick with me, thank you and I’ll try and add pictures to make things feel easier 😆
I was thinking about it and I mean really thinking about these community surveys we’ve been getting and how they speak volumes on the way the game is handled but also also how we position ourselves as a community. I noticed alot more game changers are starting to get pretty vocal about their thoughts since the first community survey came out and that’s refreshing to say the least, but it shows a pattern that we all present: give us what is missing no matter how. We want beaches. We want cars. We want more stairs. We want bunkbeds. Etc.
So these things are probably somehow rushed into production to please the community and then, when we finally get it, it’s like we finally realize that what this game truly lacks is gameplay and not more items.
I invite you to come and think about the packs and the stuff we got throughout these 6 years with me.
🏢 Chapter 1: The apartment issue 
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Yes we got apartment buildings with city living, but sometimes it doesn’t even feel like it’s a game feature because it’s L I T E R A L L Y related to living in a city, so it’s not a real feature. We have no possible way to play with apartments and condos outside of san myshuno because for the first time ever we can’t build or own apartments. This was such a missed opportunity of giving us new lot treatments like condos and even rentable properties. I mean, just think about how those 2 features could allow so much new gameplay and stories with it (I can literally imagine being a landlord, having to go fix renters stuff in my their places and doing social events as condo meetings).
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The neighbors in that type of lot could also help solve somehow what so many people mention as “boring lot gameplay”. Let’s be real. hardly something ever happens with so little npcs and only the walk by sims (You have to literally run after them to make things happen sometimes and it shouldn’t be like that). But if sims were to live in the same condo or building as yours, sharing common living spaces that’s a whole other thing. Which brings me to the fact that even in the city, where apartments exist, there’s no common area other than the halls. Imagine if we could build laundries, rooftops, basements, patios with pools and all that sort of stuff.
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That sort of detaling and really getting deep into the pack’s features is even show in elevators: we can’t use them ourselves (for building) and they’re not even animated, your sim is just teleported (even the modded ones have animations and that’s just awkward).
🌊 Chapter 2: Swimming in shallow waters
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“We want a beach”, we said. So they gave us a beach, and a beach only. I’ve never seen so many people call a pack “shallow” as I’ve seen it happen to Island Living and tbh I do agree with them ‘cause... there’s really not much to do in this pack. For the first time ever swimming was restricted to this pack which is already a big let down by itself, but then features like deep diving were added for no reason and of course, as a rabbit whole, not actually contributing with much to do. So how could it be better?
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My answer is pretty obvious: resorts. It is a livable world, but that don’t mean your sims can’t take a vacation from work and just stay there if that’s the gameplay you want to go with and resorts match perfectly with that, not to mention it would have great integration with packs like spa day. It also means a new lot type and lot system, that wouldn’t be much new if the city living building condos and sublocating them as I mentioned would’ve already been implemented, but now with the feature of renting it yourself too. Resorts could also have their own event schedules, integrated with the seasons calendar: cava parties every wednesday, yoga lessons on thursdays, etc. And the best thing would be: if you own one, you can make your own events and traditions. imagine just how fun that would be. A feature like this would also mean it’s already done for other packs coming later on, maybe a colder destination where you can ski and build iglus or even another cultural based pack like jungle adventure.
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Other obvious resolution would be better mermaids. Make it harder to become one, being only able to get the kelp from a mermaid themselves. Make it less anticlimactic, having an animation of them turning before they just walk in water with a tail all of the sudden, maybe just some scales in their legs. Give them more unique features and powers like vampires and spellcasters have, such as easily persuading people (sort of like the mind control feature aliens have) and maybe even a secret lot, like a grotto where all the mermaids are. Give them curses with the points system to go with it, some mermaids are actually sirens amirite
🥶 Chapter 3: Seasons change, gameplay stays the same
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Activities truly based on the season that are specific to that moment create urgency and different moments. Something I can think of is integrating a pack we already have: spooky stuff. It does feel lackluster ‘cause it’s missing opportunities, but imagine going trick or treating but actually going, loading different houses and gathering it while a meter like the active jobs one guided you. Forming groups with friends to do it or maybe for tpeing trees and bushes if you’re on the rebel teen side and destroying their porch jack’o lanterns. It could even be randomly generated, like the game would send you to 3 different houses to do it (that would bring lots of replayability value ‘cause you could end up in houses with neighbors that love you and will give you candy no problem, but maybe also neighbors with family feuds that won’t answer their door or make it harder for you to accomplish the event objectives), maybe one of those could even be a abandoned one that’s haunted or something like that.
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The implementing of a better wants and fears system is very essential for this pack. Yes your sims get overheated and a popup message tells you they need some water or lighter clothes, but it’d be so good if they’d actually want to go to the beach, swim in the ocean, take a vacation from work and go to a resort. Heatwaves that would make your sim act weird, not strangerville level of weird, but maybe not obeying your commands.
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Blizzards so strong that work and school would get canceled and you actually don’t have the option to leave your home lot anymore until it passes would not only add a different element to the gameplay, but also add value to the weather controler machine.
🥺 Final chapter: The general “more stuff to do” and “more things happening” factor
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The game offers all these beautiful secret worlds and yet when you finally get to them there’s not much to do other than searching for rocks and frogs and doing some fishing. I miss going to a community lot hidden somewhere and finding an eremite, goddamn bigfoot, some crazy npc or even just an actual community lot with something to do and people doing stuff in it. Unique community lots would also be a way to make towns more lively and captivating like they did so well with realm of magic and the casters alley section of the world. Maybe forgotten hollow has this abandoned haunted house where people claim they’ve seen the grim reaper walking around. Maybe sixam has a alien station where they clone human sims. Maybe sulani has this beautiful sunken ship beach where a club of people that dress up as pirated meet. Maybe Del Sol Valley has a movie theater where you can watch premieres. Maybe Oasis Springs mine hides actual gold that you can collect and get rich outta nowhere. That kind of stuff.
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I can’t stress this enough, but NPCs are so important to shake things up. It was so good to have a pack like realm of magic where the we would have to go to the three sages in order to progress. Having unique sims like this or npcs that change the way your story is going like burglars, firefighters, cops, social bunny, bonehilda and even a fortune teller is so important to keep things impredictable and interesting.
Age groups really need more specific restricted gameplay for better feel of progression. Many people say sims 4 is a young adult simulator and well... there’s not much to show that differs from that. Toddlers are as interesting as hamsters, locked in an object waiting for you to feed, clean and give them attention. Teens really should feel more like a transiction period, and the wants and fears system would really help out with that. I miss being able to participate in more elements that would mark a sims life even if they’re cheesy as heck, like having a prom, graduating, having a midlife crises.
In conclusion
First of all: if you got to this point thank you and I’d really wanna know what you think about all of this.
Some people may find even ridiculous for someone to go about a rant this big on a game and to that I have to say I agree lol I can’t help it tho, honestly, the sims has always been the game I’m most passionate about and it helped me express myself and my creativity so much since I was a kid. I really do care about this game and this franchise.
The point I want to make with this is: perhaps we shouldn’t ask for more and more different stuff, but actually put some effort into showing things we already like in the game and how they can be improved to make it more interesting. At the end of the day I still want spiral staircases, ladders, paintable ceiling, werewolves and all that but does it really matter if they get added to the game following the same patterns as the things pointed in here? Also we really are getting to a point where only a few things are missing as far as cas/build/buy go and I believe it’s time for us, as a community, to give gameplay as much importance as all these things we wanted so bad that got implemented. I probaby forgot to say something here and I didn’t even mention the infamous hamster pack, but anyway, I hope the point got across.
I try really hard to believe that the gurus are here for us and that most of all we, as a community, have a very strong voice, all we need to do is make it clearer and stronger about the things we really wish for this game.
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deberiaestarescribiendo · 4 years ago
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Bloody is the path for revenge. An Oberyn Martell x GN!reader. Game of thrones Space AU.
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#Writer Wednesday 05/05/2021
Thanks again to @autumnleaves1991-blog for this, I’ve never being this prolific in writing in my life and actually have been more consistent in it thanks to this
Summary: King’s Landing is a ruthless place, a big mass of a planet city where the less fortunate tries to survive in the lower levels and the rich thrives on the top playing their dangerous games. Many years ago, the Lannisters claimed the power from the Targaryens killing everyone in their way men, woman and children even if they were innocent of their family’s crimes; Ellia Martell and her children were amongst them, and since then his brother has tried to bring to justice those who ordered her killing. But you know there’s no justice in this world and if Oberyn tries to do anything to the Lannisters they will respond in violence and threatening his life. The life of the one you love the most
Word count: 4,4 k (One day I’ll write something short for Writer Wednesday but today it’s not that day)
Warning: Cannon divergence from the show and the books, violence, mentions of blood, shots, and explosions. +18 SMUT light descriptive sex (mention of penetration, orgasms and kissing but nothing too explicit)
A/N: What the fuck is this? You may ask, well I don’t know what to tell you, my friend. I swear I didn’t smoke anything writing this just thought how to twist a little the image we got for this week. I decided to change Ellia’s murder by the way, she’s shot dead, plain and simple, I’ve always been left with a terrible sensation every time I read/watched the show or books and they mentioned how she died. If you feel the same just know there’s no mention of rape in this or any kind of sexual violence. This is my first time writing for a gender neutral reader PLEASE PLEASE, let me know if there’s some mentions of the readers gender or something I have not seen. The only detail is that Oberyn is bigger and taller than you, the rest is pretty vague.
“Don’t leave me alone in this world”
“Never”
He says that but he kisses you as if it is his last day on earth. His plump lips force yours open until he’s caressing your mouth with his tongue. A moan resounds in his chest over yours and you feel you heart beating fast, he always ignites a fire inside of you as the blazing core of the earth burns and moves creating earthquakes and changing the shape of the earth. And he has change you, shape you into a different person, you’re wilder, more sure of yourself, passionate and freer, embracing all of you without shame. His love has burn you new as a phoenix. So because of it all, you cannot possible let him leave your bed, you cannot let him die or even come close to it. There’s no way.
You open your eyes when he separates himself from you and you see a sweet smile shining on his face, his eyes still close lingering in the pleasure of having kissed you, of being held in your arms, locking your hands on his strong and broad shoulders with the remaining heat between your bodies. You woke up crying, dreaming of blood and violence and before you opened your eyes, he was hugging you so tightly that all you could think and feel was him and his warm skin.
“My love” he whispered in your ear and then you turned desperate to kiss him to feel that he was still there with you
“I had a nightmare that you left me before I woke up�� you cried and brought his weight over your body
“Shh, shh” he hushed and kissed your forehead “I’m still here and...” your lips cut whatever he was about to say and you held his handsome face in your arms and then you let your hands wander over his body: his tense muscles, his scars on his tanned skin, he tried to stop you feeling how your tears still rolled over your cheeks but you begged and plead “Love me please, please I need you in me” and he can’t refuse. You made love slowly, deep and precise thrusts, mouth over mouth murmuring sweet nothings and praises. You fell asleep as soon as he finished, feeling so full of him, so relaxed and warm, relishing in the heat he has left in you.
Hours later, you felt how he moved and that he was about to get up, but you reached for his arm and now here you both are, your nails pressing deep on his arms.
“Let it go, please. You can stay with me, find another way. I don’t want you to die”
“Today it’s not the day I die” he smiles at you fondly brushing his knuckles over your face
“You don’t know that” you shake your head, your voice sound squeaky “Those bastards don’t know what honor is, Oberyn, you keep thinking you will find justice. There’s no justice in this dreadful place”
“I will make my own and please, my love, don’t underestimate me. I know my enemy, I’ve known them since they decided to kill my sister and his children, observed them patiently and now it’s time for them to pay for their crimes” when he mentions his family his jaw clenches and his deep eyes somehow become darker glowing with sorrow and anger.
“We could think of other way...”
“There’s no other way”
King’s landing is a massive chunk of metal, of buildings that top one another until the city raises kilometers away from the ground, leaving a clear distinction between the lower levels where the poor people survive and the highest part where the elite look upwards always climbing to the sky above and the stars crushing and stomping on the less fortunate. You’re somehow in the middle of it. You live in a beautiful needle like tower, a golden palace called Sunspear, in the south part of the town from your apartment balcony the impressive domes of the Red Keep shine from afar and your stomach turns.
The gigantic castle is the center of all, a bleeding heart in the middle of the immense planet city and it harbors the Government, the Power, the Judge and Punisher of this terrible place: the Lannisters. A criminal family wrapped up in golden clothes, golden hair and melted gold in their jewels. But criminals nonetheless, just rose in the right moment and killed the right people; one of them your lover’s dear sister, Ellia and her children.
The late rulers of the city, the ones that conquered and settle on this earth on the first place, the Targaryens, ruled with an iron fist with their Dragons technology, metallic robotic beasts that surveyed, killed and control the city without the need of any man and soon only their shadow over the sky made people tremble and any thought of protest, criminal plans or illegal activities remained on the lower slums where they could not reach as freely.
But crime grows like an infection and soon enough there was a Targaryen king that thought that the end justifies the means and that there’s only one way to get rid of a putrid member; amputating it. So the Dragons did control the slums, burning them down to the ground. Those drastic measures had consequences and of course soon the protests against their cruelty grew stronger, and the protests leaded to insurrection and the Lannisters presented themselves as the golden saviors only to be even crueler than those they had usurped.
And those who were related in any way to the Targaryens were killed without a trial, like Ellia, trapped in the Red Keep by an unsatisfactory marriage to one member of the family. And Oberyn tried, ran to the castle to beg mercy for her innocent sister when the Coup succeeded but ended just collecting her corpse. “She was caught in cross fire” they said but her wounds were clearly a mark of an execution, and seeing himself alone in a chaotic world without allies and without enough power, Oberyn waited, observed and mourned, let his rage grow stronger and deep, a pain like thorns in his chest that even though it hurt, it didn’t compromised his kindness.
He found you in that state, a broken man with a warm smile like the sun, and you were a street rat, a slum orphan kid that lost everything even before you were aware of what family, love or possessions meant. You survived however you could, you were not proud of your beginnings, you were not proud of how you met him: trying to rob him.
“I don’t have much, love” he had said, not threaten at all of your weapon pointed at his chest
“You’re one of those top bastards, of course you have. Give me your rings” you blurted. He complied with a smile and tossed the golden rings to you; but the one on his thumb. “All of them” you spat
“This one, if you please, I’d like to keep. It was a gift from somebody that it’s not longer with me” he said and something in your chest moved after years and years of creating a hard armor over your feelings.
“Alright, now empty your pockets” you said bending down to gather his rings and in that he moved faster than you had seen anybody react and in a swift movement he got you cornered on the wall and disarmed.
“You have to always choose your opponents wisely, my sweet” he said really close to your face. You moaned, tried to think that the sound coming from your mouth was out of fear and his bigger and heavy body over yours, but deep down you knew that his amber perfume, his deep voice and those eyes had awaken something else in you. “You look positively famish and neglected of many things, my sweet. Come with me” And you did and you will always follow him since that day. But today he has chosen a path that you cannot keep. Today your fears had come true, you have always think that your love could cure him, that it could be stronger and enough to calm his need for vengeance. But it is not.
History tends to repeat itself and now the Lannisters are suffering the same fate they created for their predecessors. They’re in their lowest point and they’re destroying themselves from within, betraying their own family members, and when Oberyn saw this as his perfect chance to finally plot his vengeance, you saw that dark pain eating the light, the love, the passion and the kindness, dominating everything else that was in his heart. Now he only sees vengeance and the cold blade of justice cutting their throats.
The sun pierces the pollution and the clouds in an orange and pink palette announcing the beginning of a new day and the trial starts at midday. They’re accusing Tyrion, the youngest of the Lannisters’ siblings, and demanding the death penalty for killing the heir to the throne. And Oberyn in a surprising turns of events has accorded to represent him on the trial or that’s what everybody thinks. The oldest law in the planet, one settled since Aegon Targaryen, the conqueror, is that a defendant can have a final statement before his sentence and everything he says in that moment must be taken in to account if he, by any chance, confesses other crimes or accomplices in the crime being judged.
Oberyn could never bring Ellia’s murder to justice but if Tyrion confesses that he heard his father give the order to kill Ellia and her children then he cannot be killed until that crime is investigated and judged thus saving, for the time being, his life and giving Oberyn the chance of presenting his case against those who killed his family. In a fair world, that could work. But you know his honor and idealism clouds his judgment, they will never let Tyrion confess in public how they ordered to kill innocent children in cold blood, they will never let Oberyn win. They’re desperate now, less concern about their public image and much more drastic in their measures; another thing they have now in common with the past rulers. They’ll do anything to remain in power, and those little legal tricks won’t be enough to stop them. They will take any means necessary to remain in power. Anything.
“We should be going, sir” the security guard announces from the digital pad on the door
“My love” Oberyn adjusts his tunic, an old gold fabric that resembles the million sun panels that covers Sunspear and he looks as the sun, he warms your life, gives you the energy to wake up and you wish this sun, your sun, never sets and leaves you in the dark “If you don’t want to come, I’ll understand”
You run to him and grab his forearms “I will never leave you. I’ll be there as long as you need me”
Weeks before the trial
Even though you’ve climbed on the social ladder and also in a literal way, you are and you will always be a street rat, a lower scum and in that you know many like you. And they’re useful, you know people that could do anything, that know how to find anything or anyone. The lower levels are a wild jungle of metallic junk, holograms screens selling whatever you wish for and dangerous people. But you know your way there and navigated the streets until you found what you wanted.
“So it’s pretty damaged, I had to reprogram everything and search for parts anywhere and those I didn’t find I had to customize” Chips explained uncovering the thing inside his garage. Chips is your friend, shared the same dirty full of lice bed in the orphanage, he didn’t have a name and was given one by the caretakers but preferred the nickname you gave them. He was always since he was a little kid playing with some wires, chips and computers parts and now he had created a place in the slums, mainly because of what he did it’s not really legal. He hacks technology, can get himself inside any web, any software and devastate any system he wants. He does it all in this dirty garage, lighted in neon lights that you don’t know you he stands it, every wall is covered in screens, old technology and devices you don’t understand.
“You know anything you need I will pay double, Chips. I need this working properly, it’s extremely important” you said
“Thank you, Chips” you nodded
“And it will, you will have complete control over it on your holo bracelet” he assured and gave you the small black device that you tied around your wrist “When it is time, you just have to activate it” and he showed you the control app on the floating screen over your hand
“Do you really want to do this? You can’t control the consequences once you active it” he asked eyeing the thing with a worried look
“The consequences if I don’t use it will be far worse”
The trial
“Father, I wish to confess” the short blond man says on the stand, he’s secured inside a protection field that is otherwise invisible except when the neon lights from the ceiling hit it and it shines with a bluish light.
The hundred something audience member gasp in unison and you know the whole city has had the same reaction whilst watching in it live stream in the millions of holoscreens around King’s Landing.
“I didn’t kill Joffrey, but I wish that I had” he spats and the people present scream and insult him. Oberyn stands by his side and you cannot see his face from your seat in the grandstand but his fists are clenched and his posture is tense. “He was a vicious demon, a murderer and sadist as every member of this family”
“Tyrion if you do not wish to confess this is useless” Tywin Lannister, the patriarch, moves in his seat uncomfortable.
“As I was saying, father, he was a murderer like his family, like you” people rise from their seats now, you stay in your little corner while the crowd waits for the rest of the confession with their mouths wide open “You ordered, years ago, to kill in cold blood innocent people, you ordered your beast” he points to the corner of the big throne room where the tallest man you’ve ever seen stands among other guards “to kill every woman, children or baby that was related to the Targaryens, servants or noble; like Ellia Martell and her children”
“Silence!” Tywin raises from his seat, his pale skin is red, a sharp contrast to his all black tunic “Take the prisoner back to his chamber until a sentence has been declared”
“Wait!” Oberyn walks towards the center of the scene with his hand raised “The defendant has confessed being witness to a crime, by the old law of Aegon, the conqueror; he cannot be put to sentence until that crime has been judged. And you, Lord Tywin, will have to address those accusation in a proper trial” You see from the corner he has a smirk on his face while the older man glares at him with his eyes full of hate.
“Isn’t it that convenient for you?” Cersei Lannister cries from her seat, the mourning mother has been quite the whole trial but her eyes red and weeping had been fixed on her brother and now Oberyn with the same anger. “You’ve spreading those lies and accusations for years and now you conspire with my murderer brother to hurt my family” her voice break and the audience gasps again clearly entertain with this turning of events
“Accusations that now have to be clarified in a trial as it was always dismissed by your authority” Oberyn responds pointing with his finger to the whole Lannister court
“It was a time of war, an unfortunate accident” Tywin hisses
“Well now you could prove it and end those accusations, don’t you?” Oberyn smiles wildly but it feels like more like a viper openning its mouth to show you its weapons before biting.”I demand that the defendant is released from your custody and it will remain with me until trial”
“That’s surprising, are you accusing us of plotting to hurt him in anyway?” Tywin tilts his head to Oberyn, challenging him, and you know he has something in mind. You’re so tense that you don’t realize you were not breathing until your chest hurts. You activate your holobracelet looking at the small bottom waiting for the perfect moment.
“I’m saying he’s accused of a heinous crime and clearly has gained the hatred of the people, being here could make it really easy for anybody to hurt him while on custody. So I suggest a secured and secret location for the moment”
“Tyrion has the means to escape and leave the planet; we could not possibly let him go” says an old man from the Council
“He will remain in the Red Keep” Tywin states
“I think I still have my right to testify, father” Cersei raises from her seat with a coy smirk
“You can give a final statement, yes” he agrees
“Oberyn Martell has agreed to defend my brother from this terrible murder, has been seeing with him before in very dubious places and now he accuses us of murder and plot to kill a prisoner in custody in order to keep Tyrion on his care. I think it’s fair to think that he could have some interest in this, maybe even be part of a larger plot against us, he has always hate our family for a crime we didn’t commit”
The uproar in the room is way stronger this time, some assistants can’t even be kept on their seats, and the guards form a line between the grandstand and the platform were the trail is taken place. You move, your heart beats are loud in your ear, as you go down the stand closer to where Oberyn stands.
“I firmly believe we should have a line of investigation on this, so you, Oberyn and your client should stay on the Red Keep until everything is clarified” Tywin doesn’t hide his pride. You knew that this will happen; they have neither honor nor a care for justice. And you knew they will find a way to hurt him if he ever became bolder in his way to get justice for his sister.
Oberyn is screaming something but you cannot hear him with all the crossed accusations and the audience, but the guards had walked towards him, they’re moving Tyrion from his stand and cornering your lover.
“Raise your hands, sir” they scream at him “Calm down”
You know their tactics, you know that any movement he will do can justify that they shot him down or hurt him. If he raises his hands they can say he was about to punch them, if he doesn’t he didn’t comply. Anyway Oberyn’s life is threatened. So you know it’s time.
You open the hologram screen on your bracelet and tap on the small logo with trembling fingers, until the screen shows an ACTIVITED sign in green.
You were a small child, probably a baby when you were met with one of those things, so you don’t remember how silent they are. It was made like that so they could strike any possible threats without given them the chance to escape. So the dust hits you first, before you or anyone could hear it. The right wall of the throne room collapses and you see the screens and the wires and the metal breaking and the ancient brick walls inside of them. A blazing sun hits second, a red and orange light until you feel the heat. That’s not the sun. It’s fire.
The beast enters and now you can hear it, its motors propel it inside the room and in doing so completely destroy the west side of the Keep. It actually looks like a dragon; a fearsome large metallic face spitting fire but the rest of its body is a triangular black shape more like the commercial flight transports but way bigger.
The clouds of dust makes it impossible for you to find Oberyn, you just hope he hasn’t been hit by the debris in the explosion.
“Oberyn” you scream and cough
You find some guards on the ground some of them evidently dead others are just knockout, and in the middle of it you find him, he had protected his head with his arms, his golden attire is dusty but you don’t see signs of bleeding. You bend down and try to get him up, but he’s heavy
“Come on, my love, we have to go!” he doesn’t respond and your heart skips a beat what if you killed him trying to save him?
But he coughs softly at first and then louder and raises his face confused and wander his eyes until he finds you “We have to go Oberyn, come on” he moves slowly but you gather strength and get his arm over yours and push him towards the abyss on the west wall. And you jump.
Being a slum rat you had always fear being on the top of the buildings, never actually looking from the border of the balcony when you moved with Oberyn, but now you jumped with your eyes closed, holding his body, the body of your lover, your whole life tightly against yours. For a moment you feel the emptiness of space and air until your body hits something hard.
“We have to fly faster; I think the whole building is going to collapse” Chips helps you take a seat on the flying car and you secure Oberyn on the seat beside you. He’s still dazed so he doesn’t say a thing; clearly he doesn’t understand what’s going on. You hope that you hadn’t inflicted some brain damaged. Chips speeds up the vehicle going in a sharp line downwards making the rest of the traffic move to let you pass and avoid a crash.
“We will have to hide on the slums for a moment” he screams over the speed breaking the air
No brain damage, his eardrums are broken but they will heal fast with the drugs Chips has bought in the dark market. He has a great concussion on his back and some scratches on his face, legs and arms. But he’s alive and well. You wait on a very uncomfortable chair looking at him, his tall and broad body doesn’t fit in that small cheap bed but for the moment it will have to do. He has been sleeping for a few hours now and when you’re about to doze off, he coughs trying to call your name.
“Sh, sh, calm down my love” you say when he tries to get up “Drink some water” you serve him in a plastic cup and approach the bed
“What?” he screams and contorts his face once he feels the pain
“Your ears” you pronounce every syllable so he can read your lips “Rest now, it will heal in a few hours”
He drinks looking at you confused over the cup and lies down again but he looks at you intently “what have you done?” he murmurs
You sleep a few hours, Chips keeps doing his thing drinking too much of those energy drinks. At least twenty screens shows different news reports, the images of the trial and the “terrorist attack” as they’re calling it thereafter.
“What have you done with it?” you ask
“I programmed it to self destroy after you deactivated it. Too dangerous on the wrong hands” he explains
“And who are you referring to with “wrong hands?” a deep and husky voice says behind you.
You see the horror in his eyes when he watches the images of the Dragon entering the throne room and burning and destroying everything on its way.
“Oberyn” you whisper
“What have you done?” he asks again, his brown eyes glow in tears
“I did what I have to do” you simply shrug “I couldn’t let you get yourself killed, those people were about to lock you on the Red Keep and next thing I know they will give me your dead body back as they did with your sister” your voice cracks once you try to approach him and he recoils in fear
“You’ve killed innocent people” Oberyn lets his body hit the wall and you see his legs shake still too weak to stand
“They were enjoying that mockery of a trial seeing a poor man being sentence to death” you defend
“And now they’re all dead”
“We’re still waiting for the reports but...”Chips adds but shuts it once you both look angrily at him
“Oberyn” you come close your hands open to him, begging to touch him but he shakes his head
“Oberyn please” you say again
“No” he refuses and now you see he’s crying, his shoulders shake and he covers his face on his hands
“Then listen to me” you face him still letting him have his space “I couldn’t live in a world where you’re not with me. I knew they will try to kill you and I felt powerless, I had to do something, I have to save you as you saved me years ago. I love you, Oberyn, more than my own life, more than my heart, my eyes and my soul and if I have to burn empires to the ground for you, I will and I did”
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schrijverr · 3 years ago
Text
Stepping Side by Side
Bakugo and Midoriya used to dance competitive ballroom together. When nightmares keep them awake they start dancing again and finding their friendship back as well. Until a dance lesson brings it to light.
On AO3.
Ships: could be read as pre-slash BakuDeku
Warnings: mentions of mild homophobia
~~~~~~~~~~~
There used to be a time when you couldn’t tear Izu and Kacchan from each others side with all the force in the world. However, that time had nearly completely passed by the time they got into Middle School, and had fully disappeared when both of them got into UA.
So now it was Midoriya and Bakugo, who walked through hallways as ghosts of another time with knowledge of the other and a person they could hardly place.
Still, the two got better. It might have taken a lot of trauma and a fake city that was destroyed in a fist-fight, but they were tentatively getting better.
The getting better got in the lift on a faithful Wednesday night (though it was already Thursday at that point), when both had woken from dreams that showed them memories they would rather forget.
Midoriya wasn’t an uncommon guest in the kitchen at ungodly hours, but seeing Bakugo there really surprised him.
“Kacchan?” he said softly, not wanting to startle the other.
“Deku? Why are you awake?” Bakugo didn’t even have the energy to sound harsh with big bags under his eyes and a slump in his shoulder.
“Probably the same reason you are,” Midoriya answered with a sad smile.
Bakugo nodded, also taking in Midoriya’s exhausted face, before silently offering him a cup of tea, which Midoriya accepted gratefully. He was surprised to find, Bakugo had remembered how he took it, though he had seen it many times on competition mornings.
They stood in silence for a moment, drinking their tea. Neither one really wanted to talk about what had awoken them in the middle of the night.
“We should probably go to bed again,” Midoriya said when they had finished their tea, his voice betraying how much he did not want to try to sleep. Bakugo had the same voice as he agreed: “Yeah, we probably should.”
It was quiet again.
Then with a soft voice, Midoriya asked: “Remember when we danced together? We never really talked about it again, but- Never mind...”
“Huh, what made you ask that? Of course, I remember, dipshit,” Bakugo frowned.
“Well, it’s kind of dumb, but you remembered how I take my tea and that surprised me, but then I thought you saw it so many times on all the competition mornings and it got me thinking of the dancing and it suddenly popped up again,” Midoriya muttered.
Bakugo had been on the receiving end of Midoriya’s mutterings enough times that he could follow them and said: “Hmm, hadn’t even realized.”
Midoriya was surprised with how gentle compared to normal, Bakugo was being. Well, maybe not gentle, but he wasn’t being defensive or aggressive, which was a nice change. Itreminded Midoriya of when Bakugo had been his best friend.
“Yeah,” he replied softly, content to let the conversation end and fall back into silence.
They were truly just standing around in the kitchen, both in their pajamas, tired and still unwilling to rest for fear what it may bring. They must have looked like quite a pair, leaning against the counters at this hour.
Bakugo was typing away on his phone and Midoriya regretted having left his behind on his nightstand, because he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
Suddenly Bakugo’s phone started playing familiar music and Midoriya looked up in surprise, only to find the other holding out his hand with an expecting eyebrow raise.
“W- what?” he stumbled over his words in confusion.
“Come on, nerd, I wanna see if you kept up your training,” he said, “Though, I suppose I was always the better dancer.”
“Oi, you were not!” Midoriya protested and took the hand.
Bakugo grinned victoriously when he did. He knew his friends competitiveness like no other and he had played into it with success. So, he lead his dance partner and fellow sleep-avoider onto the floor, which was the bit of empty space they had near the door.
He’d put on a simple waltz, he didn’t want to think too hard at this time and it was more about the basic steps to keep his mind of other things.
They swiftly fell into old routines and Bakugo was surprised how well Midoriya was keeping up with him. He had assumed that since it had been his parents with the dance studio, only he would have kept up with the techniques.
Midoriya must have seen the surprise in his eyes, because he grinned in the little shit way no one in class 1-A believed he could and said: “You still hold instead of cup, Kacchan.”
Bakugo looked at his offending hand and saw it was indeed the case, so with an eyeroll he corrected it then send a glare to his partner.
He couldn't help but pout slightly: “And you still don’t keep your chin up.”
Midoriya had always been a bit shy and nervous, so their coaches and parents had always reminded him before competitions to ‘keep your chin up, just look at Katsuki, Izuku, you’re gonna do great out there.’
So, the other corrected his mistake as well as he was spun away, then back to Bakugo, who resumed their steps with Midoriya following easily. It had been their under 11s debut dance and it had been quite precious to them at the time.
The song on the phone stopped and changed into a latin song. Bakugo raised a brow questioning and Midoriya returned the challenge.
Not one to back down, Bakugo got into a familiar start position. He would show that shitty nerd he still knew his fucking latin, alright.
They danced a few more songs until the late hour and physical exercise caught up to them and they had to stop to breathe. Both felt more at ease and more ready to face the night than before. Midoriya smiled: “This was nice. You know, dancing again.”
Bakugo was quiet for a moment, then – almost as if he didn’t want to – he confessed: “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”
“I feel like I can finally sleep,” Midoriya stretched with a grin.
“Same, I- I’ll see you around,” Bakugo said awkwardly.
“Yeah, don’t be a stranger around the Midnight Kitchen Dance Club,” Midoriya joked with a hint of truth.
They held each other’s gaze, then Bakugo walked away, but not before saying: “I won’t.”
And that was the start. The first time had been a coincidental meeting, but after knowing the other might be downstairs, the two ventured to the kitchen more often, hoping for the comfort of familiar company.
The second time had been a bit awkward, but then Midoriya had asked if Bakugo still knew that stupidly hard foxtrot that had taken them forever to learn and Bakugo jumped on the chance to show that he still did.
So it had evolved until Bakugo grabbed his wireless headphonesby instinct so that they could share and not wake everyone up, while Midoriya always madetwo cups for tea.
When they had just started they dances old routines, but after a while they had started working on them, looking up competitors still dancing and trying to incorporate their moves into their own dances, making them unnecessarily complicated just by virtue of time.
While both still had enough sleep to keep them up as aspiring heroes doing a lot of exercise daily, they still found themselves in the kitchen at least twice a week. It would never compare to the six days a week and on Sunday competition regime that they’d had in the past, but still…
The dancing had helped both immensely with their sleeping as well as their bond.
Midoriya hadn’t noticed it at first, but suddenly realized that at some point Kacchan had returned to calling him Izu when they had their nightly dance session.
It delighted him to no end that he was seeing glimpses of the grumpy and competitive, yet observant and grounded presence Kacchan had been in their youth. Until Middle School had pushed him in the wrong direction and he didn’t want to dance anymore, because someone had said it was girly and that Deku was girly too and all the stupid connotations that had.
Sometimes Izu really wanted to slap Middle School Kacchan for who he had befriended and how he had let everyone shape how he viewed himself.
Sure, Izu might have been pushed into insecurity and skittishness, but Kacchan had allowed himself to be pulled into the “alpha’s” of the school, the ones who had to conform to a certain standard constantly or loose their place. Having to pretend to be someone else constantly until he thought he had to be that version all of the time.
It had fucked with Kacchans mind and perception of the world, Izu had seen that first hand.
But the dancing made Kacchan smile carefree again. Izu saw how he would get excited about learning moves they couldn't just pull off but had to work for and routines that went well.
In turn Kacchan couldn't help but notice how Izu was carrying himself differently again. The subtle grace that seeped into his normal cower and the confidence that rolled off him when he was being spun around by Kacchan.
Kacchan loved witnessing those little moments.
He loved how Izu would cheekily comment on his form or babble about his hero notes while they stretched or sip his tea at the end, smile playing around his lips.
It reminded him of how good it had been before he turned completely into an asshole and guilt bubbled up in his throat. So, one night when they were sitting on the floor, he began: “Hey, Izu. I, uhm, I wanted to, well…”
“Kacchan?” Izu frowned when he heard Kacchan stumble.
“I wanted to say sorry,” he said, wanting to erase the frown he put there.
“Why?” Izu asked, genuinely confused.
“Because I was fucking dick to you, Izu,” he answered, rolling his eyes at Izu’s obliviousness.
“Oh, well, yeah, you were,” Izu agreed and a pit formed in Kacchans stomach. “And it was hurtful, of course it was. But I understand and I think I had forgiven you before it even occurred to me to blame you. I don’t know why, Kacchan, but I could never be mad at you, you mean too much to me.”
Kacchan looked at him in shock. Izu said it like it was natural, unavoidable that he forgave Kacchan, just like that. After everything. He didn’t know what to say.
Izu understood that too, because he got up and said: “Come on, you promised that we could do the latin routine.”
He let himself be pulled up by Izu and got into the opening stance like second nature. He wondered how he ever got this lucky with Izu as a friend.
Naturally since it was them, things like this didn’t stay private. Though it had been their own choice. Partly. Mostly.
Class 1-A was learning how to dance.
It had come as coincidence and was part of their social relations course, since galas could be part of their future careers.
So, Midnight was teaching them, with Snipe as her partner, because he was apparently the only who didn’t mind dancing and could keep his mouth shut the entire time. Midoriya could guess who those two categories referred to, but didn’t see the point in identifying their homeroom and their English teacher out loud.
Midnight had explained the most basic waltz which Midoriya could do in his sleep, so he took his time looking around. It was easy to see that some had difficulty taking it seriously and that others were already completely lost.
“Okay, everyone, partner up,” Midnight clapped her hands, getting into the position with Snipe.
Since their class had more boys than girls there would be a few all boys couples. Being used to dancing the “girl part” anyway, Midoriya didn’t mind being the first to face that reality as he grinned to Iida and said: “Here, Iida, I’ll be your dancing lady.”
Some others snorted, but afterwards everyone paired up faster.
Midoriya couldn't help but look what Bakugo would do. He saw the fiery blond had paired up with Sero and had forcefully taken the “boy part” despite Sero’s protests that he was taller.
They went through the basic steps and spins and Midoriya found that Iida was semi-okay to dance with. Though, since he came from a rich family that shouldn’t be a surprise, those families forced most of their kids to dance classes at some point.
From what he could hear Bakugo had no such luck, because he was cursing at Sero loudly, while Sero apologized for stepping on his toes or accidentally tripping them up. Midoriya wondered how long Bakugo was willing to put up with it.
As it turned out it wasn’t long.
The first attempt to dance had just stopped and Midnight announced that they would go back to explaining before trying again.
Bakugo let Sero go as if it hurt him to hold on and scowled at the sheepish boy, before he turned to Midoriya and raised a brow, asking if Midoriya was okay with it.
It made Midoriya smile that Bakugo considered his side before yelling and he nodded back, smiling slightly. With Midoriya’s permission, Bakugo yelled: “I don’t want to dance with this shit head, he sucks. Izu, come dance with me.”
“Okay, Kacchan,” Izu agreed easily, apologizing to Iida as he switched places with Sero under the confused gazes of the class.
After gathering herself again Midnight said: “Well, if everyone is okay with that, then we’ll continue.”
There were a few whispers around them, most of them were about why Bakugo would choose Midoriya of all people and if they had heard ‘Izu’ correctly.
Midnight went on with her lesson, repeating all the steps they’d just learned and helping those who needed it.
With Izu and Kacchan dancing together, they just did the steps easily and Izu giggled at Kacchans bored face. Sure, the basics were very important and a big chunk of what you did at a competitions, but they could do much funner stuff.
So they did a few spins extra here and there, turned as they waltzed together and tried their best with their posture just to have something to do.
When Midnight came to check on them, she raised a brow and commented: “You two are doing well. I like it.”
Izu blushed brightly, while Kacchan just huffed: “Of course, I’m no longer dancing with that toe-stepper over there.”
Deciding not to engage with that comment Midnight turned back to the class and announced they would hold a mock ball and to get in position. She warned: “Another difficulty is keeping track of the other couples on the floor. Try not to bump into anyone. And have fun!”
Then she turned on the music and awkwardly the class began to dance.
Relieved that they would finally have something fun to do, Izu and Kacchan set into a simple waltz that was only slightly more difficult than what they’d just learned and glided through their classmates with more grace than one should seek in two teens.
It didn’t take long for the others to catch on that one pair – and the most surprising one at that – was doing much better than the rest. They slowly stopped their own dancing to watch them.
Kacchan was slowly upping the difficulty, dragging Izu along with him. He was faintly aware that others were giving them space, but he was more focused on Izu and the dance. Izu’s hand was heavy on his shoulder and his grin bright.
They were getting lost in their dancing.
Midnight had never seen such grace in her classes and it became clear to her that the two had been trained on a much higher level than she ever had. Curious to see what they could do and if they even would, she put on a latin song.
Unbeknownst to her the song she had picked was the one Izu and Kacchan had first started with and choreographed an elaborate routine to.
When the music started a gleam came into Kacchans eyes and Izu knew he would be pulled in too, which he gleefully did.
Both got in their starting position.
The class watched with absolute bafflement as Kacchan practically prowled around the dance floor, hips moving enticingly, while Izu twirled and teased in a manner they would have never expected of the green haired boy.
Their faces contorted as they fell into a rhythm, holding on to another and spinning away, only to be pulled close to the other again. Hand in hand, other on shoulder or back as their feet movedat a dizzying speed, everyone awed that they hadn’t stepped on the other’s foot yet.
When they were done, Kacchen unconsciously twirled Izu into the ending bow, while he bowed as well.
He hadn’t counted on actually getting the applause that they were used to, but sure enough class 1-A burst into enthusiastic cheers once they had gathered their bearings again.
Kirishima came bounding forwards, saying: “I didn’t know you could dance like that, Bakubro. So manly!”
“Tsk, of course I can,” Bakugo huffed.
“Don’t be mean, Kacchan, you know almost no one keeps up with the ballroom world,” Midoriya admonished.
“What?” Kirishima was now confused.
“Ah,” Midoriya explained, “Kacchan’s parents own a big dancing studio and they were world champions four years in a row. They’re a pretty big deal within the ballroom world, so it would make sense that Kacchan can dance, but you have know about ballroom first. Don’t worry about not knowing.”
Midoriya’s answer made the class explode again.
When they had calmed down slightly, Iida asked: “And how about you Midoriya? Where did you learn how to dance?”
“Well, uhm, my mom was friends with aun- Kacchan’smom,” he said, “They went to the same High School and uhm, you see, my- his-”
“My mom babysat because she didn’t have a boss to answer to so she could just have us with her in the studio,” Bakugo finished Midoriya’s babbling. “We learned to walk in a fucking dance studio.”
“Yeah, that,” Midoriya said awkwardly.
“Ahw, that’s so cute,” Hagakure gushed. “Are there pictures of little you?”
“No, keep out of-”
Bakugo was cut off, by Midoriya puling out his phone: “Yeah, my mom has them on her Facebook, wait a sec and I’ll look them up.”
A few of the girls leaned over his shoulder as he found the post. He grinned: “She posted this the first time we won the under 11s Junior championship. We’re eight in the second picture.”
The crowd prevented Bakugo from ripping the phone from Midoriya’s hands and he watched with a blush and slight horror as the girls cooed over the two of them.
The first picture was them smudging the mirrors with their dirty little hands. Bakugo was in an green sleeping-bag onesie, Midoriya in a orange one, both were standing for one of the first times in their life. The other was them in shiny shoes, black slacks, a neat white dress shirt and a black waistcoat with red embroidery. Their hair was slicked back and they were grinning widely, holding a trophy.
‘I’m so proud of my two little champions, how far you’ve come!’read the caption.
“You competed?” Tsu asked.
Seeing an opportunity to brag, Bakugo said: “Yeah, we started when we were 6. And from our 7thwe were undefeated in the Juvenile under 10s category and from out 8th we were undefeated in the Junior under 11s category. We competed in the under 14s as well from when we were 9, but we only won during our last competition in that category when we were 12.”
“That’s insane, dude,” Kaminari said with big eyes.
“We were good,” Bakugo shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, though he added: “Despite this shitty nerds flat dancing just now.”
“Oi, I’m not the one who had his balance wrong,” Midoriya shot back to everyone’s surprise. They had expected him to shrink under the critique, but on the dance floor the two had always been equals and Midoriya wasn’t afraid to call his partner out.
“I was not out of balance,” Bakugo pouted.
“Yes, you were, after the moving of the head part, I had to carry that bit,” Midoriya said. “You’re lucky we trained with that ballerina one time and I have good balance.” Bakugo frowned, but didn’t reply, so Midoriya smugly grinned: “Thought so.”
“Your side was still a bit flat,” Bakugo grumbled.
“I can live with that.”
With that conversation apparently done, Kirishima asked: “Why did you stop competing?”
“Yeah, Kacchan, why did we stop?” Midoriya repeated.
Bakugo looked away guiltily and said: “I didn’t want to dance anymore, because it was girly and not cool.”
“And some classmates were mean about it,” Midoriya shrugged. “I mean, it sucked, but they weren’t wrong. I was girly.”
“Izu…” Kacchan said, unsure of what his friend meant.
“It’s true, Kacchan, remember that one competition when I showed up in a dress,” Izu giggled. “I thought that one judge was going to explode.”
“The asshole one, who didn’t like we were dancing together?” Kacchan grinned. “I remember, god, that was amazing.”
“Why didn’t he like you two dancing together?” Kaminari asked.
Midoriya raised a brow, but Bakugo explained: “There are more girls than boys in dancing, so there are all girls tournaments. However, I refused to dance with anyone but Izu, so we got to compete in the normal tournaments, but they didn’t like that two boys who could have a girl dance partner were dancing together. And we were good, they also didn’t like that.”
“Which is stupid,” Midoriya added, still angry about it, “So I wore a dress as a sort of a ‘now we look like your normal pair, is that what you wanted?’ and he liked that even less.”
More people giggled at the story of little Kacchan and Izu, they almost couldn't place the two in front of them in that story, except when they looked at the grin they gave each other.
In that look you could see the two had known each other since before they could talk, you could see that there had been a time when neither wanted to leave the other’s side and when they were completely in sync.
A time that might be returning.
~~
A/N:
This whole fic is I watched the Baby Ballroomdocu on Netflix and I have nothing better to do than project my own want to learn ballroom onto characters.
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revlyncox · 4 years ago
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Democracy Is Not a State
Delivered to the Washington Ethical Society on January 10, 2021, by Lyn Cox
Congressman John Lewis reminds us what is possible when we join together, combining our collective action and sense of purpose to keep our country grounded in our best and highest ideals. His final instructions to us were to “walk with the wind,” to stay together and respond to the movement of our time in the spirit of peace and with the power of love. 
That is what is happening in Georgia. This past week, we learned that Georgia will have two new Senators. The Rev. Raphael Warnock will be the first Black Senator from the state, of which about a third of the population is Black. The congregation Rev. Warnock leads, Ebenezer Baptist Church, is the former pulpit of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It is also a congregation that Rep. Lewis attended. Jon Ossoff will be the first Jewish Senator from Georgia. Ossoff interned for Rep. John Lewis as a young man, after having written him a fan letter when Ossoff was 16 years old. Relationships built over years make a difference.
Regardless of political party, we can agree that democracy depends on the ability of citizens to exercise their right to vote. True democracy rests on free and fair elections, in which obstacles to the right to vote are not placed unfairly and disproportionately in front of voters from marginalized communities. The runoff election in Georgia was historic, not only because of the outcome, but because of the momentous turnout. Overcoming voter suppression was a major task, and one that grassroots organizations in Georgia have been working on for years. Multiracial democracy is a threat to white supremacy, and white supremacy has been trying to prevent the full flowering of multiracial democracy from the beginning.
Yet there is progress. Between 2018 and the November election, 800,000 new people registered to vote in Georgia. Registering and mobilizing new voters is the big story of this election, and that was achieved one conversation at a time, one knocked-on door at a time, one phone call at a time, one relationship at a time. Stacey Abrams is a strategic genius and a focused advocate, having started the New Georgia Project seven years ago and Fair Fight two years ago.
Abrams will be the first to tell you that a wide variety of leaders and grassroots organizations share the credit for voter turnout in this election. For instance, LaTosha Brown has been fighting voter suppression since 1998, and her Black Voters Matter project helped mobilize voters across the South. In a series of tweets on Friday, Abrams named 30 different grassroots organizations that coordinated their efforts to help Georgians exercise their right to vote, noting that the runoff election was a demonstration of “decades of strategy, grit, + building.”
Between Rep. Lewis’ reminder about clasping hands and moving together, and the turnout in Georgia’s runoff election, our takeaway should not be limited to admiration for the most visible leaders, candidates, and public officials. We can and should admire their good character traits and their dedication to service. We can and should thank the movement leaders who made this possible, especially Black women. But we should not elevate these officials and movement leaders to the point where we regard them as something other than human, an example too rarified for us to follow.
The lesson here is that organizing is happening all around us. Coordinated solidarity to enact structural change for liberation is part of how we help bring the full promise of multiracial democracy into being. There may well be someone like Stacey Abrams in the movements you are part of at your workplace or in your neighborhood. Let’s listen. There are definitely organizations in our own communities being led by the people who are most impacted by marginalization. We can follow the example that has been set out for us by supporting power-building and relationship-building that is already happening locally. Grassroots organizing takes a long time. It requires a lot of one-on-one conversations, very little in the way of immediate results, and broad participation. That path is available to any of us, nobody has to be a superstar to participate in repairing the soul of our nation.
We contrast the progress in building multiracial democracy in Georgia with the violent attempt to destroy multiracial democracy that happened on January 6. Because this Platform is being recorded for posterity, I feel that I have to be very clear about the events of this week; please take care of yourself if a reminder of these events is overwhelming for you. On Wednesday, at the urging of their demagogue, white supremacist insurrectionists invaded the Capitol building, threatened the safety of elected leaders and staff, looted the building, and left chaos in their wake for others to clean up, primarily janitors and facilities staff who are People of Color. They were not merely rascals ignoring the rules of orderly protest, they were an armed mob seeking to disrupt the practice of democracy. Computers were stolen, putting our national security at risk. Five people died, including an officer from the Capitol Police.
In our community, I know we are holding intense emotions about this incident. I am particularly mindful of the impact that this has on those who work for the Federal government, for whom the area around the Capitol is an everyday environment, a place full of memories and colleagues. My heart also goes out to those who live near the Capitol, who had to deal with armed white supremacists wandering the neighborhood unimpeded. To anyone who has ever been treated roughly by the Capitol Police for non-violently exercising their first amendment rights, the lack of resistance to the mob may not have been surprising, but it was yet another insult, a reminder that the level of force with which police respond to protestors is a choice. For People of Color, Queer people, Muslim people, Jewish people, immigrants, or anyone who holds an identity targeted for violence by these insurrectionists, Wednesday’s events were a chilling show of power that was precisely intended to make us feel afraid for existing as our whole selves. We cannot let that fear stop us from living fully, nor prevent us from persevering in the work of liberation.
On Wednesday night, I invited the WES community to gather by Zoom to process the day’s events, to overcome the numbness of trauma by feeling our feelings, and to lift up our shared values in a way that only a community like ours can do. It was short notice, and I apologize if you didn’t hear about it in time. Please reach out if you would like to talk to me or to a member of the Pastoral Care Associates about how you are feeling. More than twenty of you were able to attend. Just from that sample, I know that there are feelings of rage, worry, disgust, helplessness, disappointment, and confusion. There are also feelings of readiness, of curiosity about what to do next, relief about the Georgia election, and even optimism that there are long-deferred actions for repair that can take place with the new Congress. Emotions are what they are, and they will be affected by your previous experiences with oppression, trauma, and violence. Feel your feelings. Please know you don’t have to be in those feelings alone.
The violence on January 6 was designed to reinforce white supremacy. It was a reaction to the expansion of multiracial democracy, fed by the shock of racist white people that the votes of people who are Black, Indigenous, and People of Color were allowed to have an impact. White people have been told since the moment Europeans arrived on this continent that the land and its abundance and the benefits of government are for ourselves, that white people own this country, and that this is unassailable no matter what happens to the bodies, voices, and lives of those who are Black, Indigenous, and People of Color. This worldview is gravely harmful and wrong.
The incredulity with which the insurrectionists faced the results of the 2020 election, urged on by politicians who capitalize on their racism, is rooted in the belief that only white votes are legitimate. Their invasion of the People’s House was meant to mark their territory, to show that their ownership remains primary, and that they can and will use violence to maintain that ownership. White supremacist violence as an attempt to derail multiracial democracy is not new, and it has worked before. We all have choices ahead of us to reduce the chances that this tactic will continue to work.
One avenue is to confront and dismantle white supremacy in all of the ways it shows up around us. For those who have been the targets of racism their whole lives, simply living and thriving is an act of resistance. For those of us who were socialized as white, the construction of a wall of ignorance around the machinations of white supremacy is part of how the system operates. For those of us who were raised with barriers to perceiving racism, let’s not wait another moment before removing those barriers and taking action to uproot racism.
We saw again this week how deadly white supremacy can be. It shows up in the minds and hearts of well-meaning people and in the institutional practices of well-meaning communities. It shows up in the decisions of governments from the level of homeowners associations to the U.S. Congress. It shows up in art and music and literature. We don’t have to look far to find a place to begin uprooting racism. For all of us, the outpouring of voter empowerment in Georgia reminds us that there is room for everyone in expanding multiracial democracy.
Another thing we can do is to insist that the threat of violent white supremacy is real, and that we should take it seriously. Perhaps that seems obvious after this week, but we’re already seeing efforts to humanize, sanitize, and excuse the perpetrators of destruction. News articles about insurrectionists who died emphasize their good qualities or accomplishments instead of their criminal records; an obvious departure from the media treatment of racial justice activists and those who have been murdered by police. Jokes about the perpetrators seem to imply that they are too stupid to be held responsible. Calls to understand their pain and excuse their racism rely on stereotypes that are demonstrably untrue. Exhortations to “move on” without practicing accountability reinforce the idea that harm caused by white people should be consequence-free. White supremacy is and always has been a threat to our national security and our national wellbeing, and the sooner we recognize and address that, the better.
Failing to take white supremacy seriously contributed to our vulnerability to Wednesday’s events. Racist militia groups have been allowed to grow and thrive for years when anti-racist groups have been infiltrated, sabotaged, and undermined with outrageous punishments and mysterious deaths. After the Charlottesville event where Heather Heyer was murdered, nothing happened to reduce the potential for future right-wing violence. The Capitol Police knew that the crowds planned for Wednesday were likely to be dangerous. Congresswoman Pramila Jayapal said:
We all were aware of the danger. Ten days ago, Maxine Waters had raised the issue of our security on a caucus call to the Speaker and asked what the plans would be. And 48 hours before, we had gotten instructions from Capitol police about all the threats: that we had to be on high alert, that we had to get to the Capitol by 9 a.m. before the protesters, that we couldn’t plan on going out, that we should have overnight bags. It was very clear, and everyone understood what the threats were.
Rep. Jayapal points out the discrepancy between what the Members of Congress were told about impending events and how the Capitol Police were prepared on the outside of the building. Whether failing to have adequate staff or backup or hard barriers was a result of underestimating the threat or of deliberate collusion or both, the lack of preparedness is a product of white supremacy.
When we recognize the enormity of the problem, we are led to work on systemic solutions. That means examining laws and policies, and the uneven application of those laws and policies. At a Symposium yesterday, award-winning peacemaker and spiritual care activist Najeeba Syeed spoke about the “myth of interpersonal peacemaking,” and how it can be a distraction and derailment of the systemic justice-making that provides the foundation for authentic, lasting peace. Trying to understand and relate to Nazis does not yield systemic change. Attempting to de-radicalize loved ones is another project, not the same thing as building multiracial democracy or expanding liberation. Professor Syeed reminded us that “Peace is not the absence of violence … Peace is the absence of injustice.”
In a week with so many low points, even as we notice the high points, it is understandable to feel disoriented. I have said before that hope is doing the next right thing, working toward a better world even when the outcome is not assured or even clear. Yet if your sense of reality was turned upside down this week, or you were overwhelmed with an experience or a reminder of trauma, maybe the next right thing is especially elusive right now. In that case, the next right thing is to take care of yourself. Drink water. Eat nourishing food. Maybe go outside at some point during the day. Talk to people who care about you. The movement will still be there when you have regained a sense of the ground underneath you. You are a precious being of worth.
Another next right thing is to check up on each other. Remember your federal employee friends. Follow up on a Caring News email. If you’re reaching out to someone who might be having a hard time, you might ask, “Is it OK if I ask how you are?” Let’s try not to make people feel obligated to re-live negative experiences if they aren’t ready. Just being present is often helpful. Even if we can’t fix anything, we can give people the option not to be alone in their grief.
If you have a little more energy and want to channel your feelings into positive actions, consider something that will have a material impact on your local community. R was telling me about Mutual Aid in Washington, DC, especially in Ward 5. For information about Mutual Aid throughout the District, check the website for Bread for the City or find them on Facebook. I also checked in with D, who is involved with Silver Spring/Takoma Park Mutual Aid. You can find them on their Wordpress site or on Facebook. If you’re involved in Mutual Aid, feel free to mention it during Community Sharing or post in the Facebook group later.
R tells me: “Mutual Aid is a non-hierarchical way for neighbors to help neighbors. Anyone can ask for any kind of assistance, and anyone can offer to help. Some roles require some training and learning codes of ethics/responsible service. It's not a particularly ‘formal’ or ‘organized’ thing - it's all hands on deck, and everyone is just doing their best.” R went on to say that there are short-term and long term roles, and those who are able can donate any time.
If you’re wondering what this has to do with dismantling white supremacy, building relationships with your neighbors both is and is not about a larger goal. Building relationships with neighbors is a primary good; it’s something that is valuable and satisfying to do for its own sake. Similarly, offering care when you can and giving people a chance to practice care when you need it are both good, full stop. Neighbors helping neighbors is a form of resistance to oppressive structures. 
In addition, neighbors who have strong bonds with each other are in a better position to advocate for their communities. If you and your neighbors are working to overcome environmental racism where you live, or redirect funding to basic human services, or update policies in the local school that have a negative impact on students of color, you will have a head start if you already know each other. This could be its whole own Platform, so I’ll pause there and just say that strong, connected, diverse local communities can be a manifestation of multiracial democracy and a home base for even more positive change.
Forming authentic relationships with our neighbors, community organizing, building power, paying attention to local issues, caring for ourselves and each other: these are some of the tools with which we will resist white supremacy and build multiracial democracy. This way is slow, and it is often hard, and it works. Growing multiracial democracy is a constant practice; Rep. Lewis reminded us that “democracy is not a state.”
When white supremacy attempts to use violence to enforce a warped and harmful vision of who we should be and how we should be together, one of our avenues for resistance is renewing our commitments to communities living into a vision of wholeness. That can mean your local mutual aid society, it can mean a project like the Food Justice Initiative, it can mean a coalition like the Washington Interfaith Network or the Congregation Action Network, it can mean a voting rights organization like Fair Fight, it can mean a community like WES. A better world is possible. There are pockets of it already living and moving among us and around us and within us. Clasping hands (figuratively, for now), traveling together with the winds of our time, let us gather our collective strength to stay grounded in a vision of the world that is possible.
May it be so.
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3rd February >> Mass Readings (Except USA)
Wednesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time
   or 
Saint Ansgar (Oscar), Bishop
   or 
Saint Blaise, Bishop, Martyr.
Wednesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time
(Liturgical Colour: Green)
First Reading
Hebrews 12:4-7,11-15
God is training you as his sons
In the fight against sin, you have not yet had to keep fighting to the point of death.    Have you forgotten that encouraging text in which you are addressed as sons? My son, when the Lord corrects you, do not treat it lightly; but do not get discouraged when he reprimands you. For the Lord trains the ones that he loves and he punishes all those that he acknowledges as his sons. Suffering is part of your training; God is treating you as his sons. Has there ever been any son whose father did not train him? Of course, any punishment is most painful at the time, and far from pleasant; but later, in those on whom it has been used, it bears fruit in peace and goodness. So hold up your limp arms and steady your trembling knees and smooth out the path you tread; then the injured limb will not be wrenched, it will grow strong again.    Always be wanting peace with all people, and the holiness without which no one can ever see the Lord. Be careful that no one is deprived of the grace of God and that no root of bitterness should begin to grow and make trouble; this can poison a whole community.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 102(103):1-2,13-14,17-18
R/ The love of the Lord is everlasting upon those who hold him in fear.
My soul, give thanks to the Lord    all my being, bless his holy name. My soul, give thanks to the Lord    and never forget all his blessings.
R/ The love of the Lord is everlasting upon those who hold him in fear.
As a father has compassion on his sons,    the Lord has pity on those who fear him; for he knows of what we are made,    he remembers that we are dust.
R/ The love of the Lord is everlasting upon those who hold him in fear.
But the love of the Lord is everlasting    upon those who hold him in fear; his justice reaches out to children’s children    when they keep his covenant in truth.
R/ The love of the Lord is everlasting upon those who hold him in fear.
Gospel Acclamation
Matthew 4:4
Alleluia, alleluia! Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God. Alleluia!
Or:
John 10:27
Alleluia, alleluia! The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice, says the Lord, I know them and they follow me. Alleluia!
Gospel
Mark 6:1-6
'A prophet is only despised in his own country'
Jesus went to his home town and his disciples accompanied him. With the coming of the sabbath he began teaching in the synagogue and most of them were astonished when they heard him. They said, ‘Where did the man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been granted him, and these miracles that are worked through him? This is the carpenter, surely, the son of Mary, the brother of James and Joset and Jude and Simon? His sisters, too, are they not here with us?’ And they would not accept him. And Jesus said to them, ‘A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house’; and he could work no miracle there, though he cured a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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Saint Ansgar (Oscar), Bishop
(Liturgical Colour: White)
(Readings for the memorial)
(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Wednesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)
First Reading
Isaiah 52:7-10
Rejoice, for the Lord is consoling his people
How beautiful on the mountains, are the feet of one who brings good news, who heralds peace, brings happiness, proclaims salvation, and tells Zion, ‘Your God is king!’
Listen! Your watchmen raise their voices, they shout for joy together, for they see the Lord face to face, as he returns to Zion.
Break into shouts of joy together, you ruins of Jerusalem; for the Lord is consoling his people, redeeming Jerusalem.
The Lord bares his holy arm in the sight of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 95(96):1-3,7-8,10
R/ Proclaim the wonders of the Lord among all the peoples.
O sing a new song to the Lord,    sing to the Lord all the earth.    O sing to the Lord, bless his name.
R/ Proclaim the wonders of the Lord among all the peoples.
Proclaim his help day by day,    tell among the nations his glory    and his wonders among all the peoples.
R/ Proclaim the wonders of the Lord among all the peoples.
Give the Lord, you families of peoples,    give the Lord glory and power;    give the Lord the glory of his name.
R/ Proclaim the wonders of the Lord among all the peoples.
Proclaim to the nations: ‘God is king.’    The world he made firm in its place;    he will judge the peoples in fairness.
R/ Proclaim the wonders of the Lord among all the peoples.
Second Reading
1 Corinthians 1:18-25
We preach a crucified Christ, the power and wisdom of God
The language of the cross may be illogical to those who are not on the way to salvation, but those of us who are on the way see it as God’s power to save. As scripture says: I shall destroy the wisdom of the wise and bring to nothing all the learning of the learned. Where are the philosophers now? Where are the scribes? Where are any of our thinkers today? Do you see now how God has shown up the foolishness of human wisdom? If it was God’s wisdom that human wisdom should not know God, it was because God wanted to save those who have faith through the foolishness of the message that we preach. And so, while the Jews demand miracles and the Greeks look for wisdom, here are we preaching a crucified Christ; to the Jews an obstacle that they cannot get over, to the pagans madness, but to those who have been called, whether they are Jews or Greeks, a Christ who is the power and the wisdom of God. For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Gospel Acclamation
Mark 1:17
Alleluia, alleluia! Follow me, says the Lord, and I will make you into fishers of men. Alleluia!
Gospel
Mark 1:14-20
I will make you into fishers of men
After John had been arrested, Jesus went into Galilee. There he proclaimed the Good News from God. ‘The time has come’ he said ‘and the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent, and believe the Good News.’    As he was walking along by the Sea of Galilee he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net in the lake – for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you into fishers of men.’ And at once they left their nets and followed him.    Going on a little further, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John; they too were in their boat, mending their nets. He called them at once and, leaving their father Zebedee in the boat with the men he employed, they went after him.
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Saint Blaise, Bishop, Martyr
(Liturgical Colour: Red)
(Readings for the memorial)
(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Wednesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)
First Reading
Romans 5:1-5
The love of God has been poured into our hearts
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, by faith we are judged righteous and at peace with God, since it is by faith and through Jesus that we have entered this state of grace in which we can boast about looking forward to God’s glory. But that is not all we can boast about; we can boast about our sufferings. These sufferings bring patience, as we know, and patience brings perseverance, and perseverance brings hope, and this hope is not deceptive, because the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given us.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 116(117)
R/ Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News. or R/ Alleluia!
O praise the Lord, all you nations,    acclaim him all you peoples!
R/ Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News. or R/ Alleluia!
Strong is his love for us;    he is faithful for ever.
R/ Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News. or R/ Alleluia!
Gospel Acclamation
Matthew 28:19,20
Alleluia, alleluia! Go, make disciples of all the nations. I am with you always; yes, to the end of time. Alleluia!
Gospel
Mark 16:15-20
Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News
Jesus showed himself to the Eleven and said to them:    ‘Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News to all creation. He who believes and is baptised will be saved; he who does not believe will be condemned. These are the signs that will be associated with believers: in my name they will cast out devils; they will have the gift of tongues; they will pick up snakes in their hands, and be unharmed should they drink deadly poison; they will lay their hands on the sick, who will recover.’    And so the Lord Jesus, after he had spoken to them, was taken up into heaven: there at the right hand of God he took his place, while they, going out, preached everywhere, the Lord working with them and confirming the word by the signs that accompanied it.
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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fashionfiestashop · 4 years ago
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Til Death Do Us Part Dog Lovers Vintage Retro T-Shirt
It is prone Q1 on our anti Q and a Til Death Do Us Part Dog Lovers Vintage Retro T-Shirt to ensure there is no promotion of violence you see that they’re trying to insinuate that you went on is it is promoting violence which is another mainstream media bullshit talking points when you see them engaging in censorship and using mainstream media talking points as their excuse then you know side there on this is why I’m moving my march from tea spring to a different platform as soon as I find but for now you can get your emergency spring now twitter Facebook histogram mainstream media they’re all engaging. The consequent golf or was it going to happen some other way if he had that attention will happen no matter what with whenever there is no answer whether we will Santos is discovered now that he has essentially caused the end of everything there will be nothing so he will be alone forever is no point having your ultimate power is like stuck their right the only way he can actually effectively matter again is my stock was himself to use the power to repair the universeand and bring it back into existence so but he won’t exist with the new rule that you kids come back come back from death but respect universe eventually he’ll just come back somehow was then owes you will be a godly more but he’ll just be back right except he was the only guy in believes that like if he does bad because he’s part of the creation itselfand because he’s a person with a personality was like a beginningand an end that like that will be the one exception to this reignite universes of fans were right as he had to be outside of it created yet so he can also be in the why it has to be our current continuity because if that were the case that means that Dan is never existedand so that any store within usand it doesn’t happen right but that isn’t the case because a course for starlet is in continuity in the stores that happen in the course merely following the steps back so you don’t but the front of the level of about whether or not like you should sacrifice yourself if you know can never existed no one or not alluded to say I have the I am I am God of the entire universe I will destroy everything in order to re create everything I do give up the power why your God well will because that is what it takes to reignite it because I look to the powerand I aghast of how work in the hotel will it take to destroy everything won’t it to pick up our but it didn’t beat him at that point he saw that all he sucked everything into him yet you actually kill everything you wantedand so he immediately resurrected I guess right or is knowing it from him all the will be over there he’s over here he’d like to it’ll take everything that is him to do it so actually not a good way no so anyway at a more lifelike will all go back in my room so I remember alland is that enoughand doesn’t know you suck you care about that as well here are some panels you know I’m not the only one was spared by your wrathand then death appears a little depth is here to get death escaped wrath maybe was in the room without warlock or maybe deficit outside of all this death was within vessels is meant to so death was watching little girl call warlock moreover Gabe is I technically desk that has to exist anywhere but yeah probably feels like I’m warlockand more will die even outside of the universe so you definitely happen so you anyway so death is thereand Adam warlock’s like you know if you make this trip it basically says come in mind that areand then death shows upand she forms into a beautiful womanand she says thank you to vandals this to talk to me directly she never does that you never done but then she leans inand kisses himand then we like this was the gesture the deaf one from the mall right not killing universe allows primary impressive it was the sacrifice right that he owned willing to die he askedand so he’s like okey doke he like how ironic that my power Avenue really ironic that like my destiny turned out to be a universal healerand so that he expels the powerand then everything is as it was only then owes his dadand that plant that he went to to chill with time convinces the planet that he went to when he was thought that infinity gauntlet Emma Gardner is his cowl is left there the global Santos mask now more picks up is like good on you Santosand then he leaves that’s normal BMV it’s like the end of the status quo that you know marble to be which is the death of the revolving door right but it’s also not trueand he is violating Mr marble still back more woman or whatever else Normal delivered while the more was a different Design of housing in which he broke it knows wonderment Unser wonderment what do you want to come back one more time but now it’s only the original wonder man before he died right you get here. He said that it makes me smart so it’s smart to pay for our military smart not to pay for veterans it’s smart not to pay for teachers all of us who do pay for those things I guess were stupid and the last thing I’ll say ready entitled to last one has never been signed has had to give Donald Trump his tax returns to show he was qualified to be vice president Donald Trump must give the American public’s tax returns to show that he’s qualified to be president and breaking his promise Elaine I have to respond to the leaders Donald Trump his file over hundred pages of financial disclosure which is what the law requires that he can review that and he’s going senator you are going to release the audit first overreaches your tax returns on a huge act since Carol Kennedy for responsible for your current dollars per year your administration do first where it protects us a security which is one of the greatest programs that the American government is ever done it happened at a time when you would work your whole life
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Line is none of that stuff medical matters is what happens on stage the campaign does believe there are some voters are still unconvinced by Joe Biden they hope that Donald Trump does allow mind to do a Til Death Do Us Part Dog Lovers Vintage Retro T-Shirt little more talking tonight is getting in the interrupted minutes of the present plays by the rules and health of those minutes may I guess in some way offers and shortcomings invited is not that sharp are carefully put together a clear and cogent thought about why he is best on the economy on October the top now the most important I need to send their fear is the president might by the rules that is the caveat in the in the footnote whatever you what is that we have to put to all of this debate analysis Peter Alexander Kuester and Sally the Biden campaign number one in a do they have a plan to deal with this Hunter Biden business and number two what is their goal for tonight do they think they can go on answer they just cannot do no harm in orderly way he playing the moment opportunity to care more for you. Closing of the borders and as you know why Europe was just designated as the hotspot right now I’m Dan because that border while ago that I was luckier through talent or through luck whatever you want but through a very collective action and shared sacrifice national determination we will overcome the threat of the virus I also announced Wednesday night following the advice of our medical professionals who are doing a tremendous job we appreciated very much and we’re suspending the entry of foreign nationals of been to Europe in the last 14 days from entering the United States citizens permanent residence in our families any of the families and returning from Europe will be subject to extra screening as well as self isolation for a period of 14 days as the World Health Organization confirmed today yeah many of the things that what we said were 100 correct including our designation before them of Europe like our earlier very aggressive actions with China this measure will save countless lives I appreciate the. The taxpayers to pay for Louisiana White House I had paper that on the state of New York is a good means that money you Tennessee you have the words the people were in California washer we had to pay for their service sucks but that’s what she wants so she’s refused to sign any bill or bring a go to the table to the floor that the Republicans come with so that we don’t need to give all this morning we arty got money this has been sent span from the last stimulus package we can just release that money to the public she will go for that she wants money food for people like the Smithsonian Museum Melanie motivated for your this is ridiculous that some of the Democrats and on they want to train as much money as we can the taxpayer to help her liberal friends who were spite in the fight for just one thing I’ll say about the Democrats they stick together is the of Nancy Pelosi recounts of the House floor tomorrow say I want every demographic come here and vote yes on this stems back to the Donald Trump brought here today See Other Shirt: Some Do Drugs Others Pop Bottle We Solve Our Problems With Wide Open Throttles T-Shirt
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bayardboy · 4 years ago
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God Told a Good Joke Today: On Being Present (tw pet death)
“We often feel helpless in the face of suffering, especially the suffering of those closet to us, and we wonder how we can help. Simple acts of kindness are so meaningful... food can be so much more than physical nourishment. Or perhaps you offer a flower from your own garden, or just listen to the fears and feelings of someone who is suffering, so they know they are not alone. Sometimes just being there with an open heart and a presence grounded in peace and serenity is enough.” - Ram Dass, Polishing the Mirror, 2013.
If you’ve read the trigger warning, you may get a sense of where this story is going... but I would encourage you to laugh with me, in good faith, at what transpired this weekend.
My house has been talking about getting a cat for sometime; Sierra wants an orange kitten named Ichigo, after the Bleach character. Gabby tells us their friend is looking to rehome his old cat, who is being bullied by the other (4!) cats in the house. So, on Saturday, I come down the attic ladder to see Woolie standing on the woodwork.
This cat is beautiful. Purebred Himalayan with sky shining from his eyes and fur like fog. A tuft of fur off the tip of his tail, dark ears that flatten when he asks for his head to be pet, a tiny pink mouth with a mrowl that echoes. 14 years old, moving so gently his footsteps don’t seem to make sounds.
This cat is stressed. We did all the wrong things bringing him home; immediately introducing him to a dog, moving his litter box four times, feeding him brand new treats, and dropping him in the house without a safe space to call his own. Half of our roommates didn’t even know he was coming, until three days before!  Having rehomed a friendly cat Leo in August (a story for another time), I had read some of the tips, so I sit with Woolie as he spun around me and became more familiar with my scent. Then, I let him call my room, his.
Over the next few days, he does not eat; just sleeps in the sunshine on my lofted bed, and asks me to pet him mid-night. He ventures around the kitchen and living rooms, occupying all chairs at one point or another, encouraged to explore. He loves music, looking especially relaxed listening to Bruno Major and Haley Heynderickx. The Book of Love by Magnetic Zeros made him set his head down in the sweetest way.
The other roommates notice his stomach contracting and pulsating in a concerning way chalked up to stress. By Tuesday, I decide to call the vet. Adam, who has had this cat its whole life, offers to pay for the vet visit.
Wednesday, we think he is doing better. He has not eaten. He is a great addition to the house, helping us avoid our existent tensions by talking about how cute he is. He is inquisitive, but never adventurous.
Thursday, we wake up early to drive him. I hope to avoid the visit when he eats some wet food for the first time, but Adam encourages us to go anyway. We put on Bruno Major in the car while driving past my old apartment. The receptionist tells us he is due for many types of tests, so we go down the street to a familiar cafe. I take one bite of my burger before getting the phone call: “Yes, the stressful breathing is compensation for not getting enough air to the lungs, so we’ve taken an x-ray. This cat has cancer.”
I call Adam, cognizant I’ve never heard his voice before. After phone tag with the clinic, he tells us he can’t be there when they put him down, because his sister is having a baby today! He asks us to have the remains sent to his house. 
So, Vic and I go back into the office, and they allow us to stand in a tiny room, double-masked, to pet him and see him off. We cry, a lot, but when they ask us if we want to be witness to his passing, we both say yes. 
I am reminded in this moment of a Ram Dass quote: “To learn how to die is to learn how to live, and the way you do that is by living each moment by being here now. The moment when the soul leaves the body is palpable and deeply profound. To share consciousness with a person who is dying is one of the most exquisite manifestations of service.” He was referring to humans when he said this, but in the moment when Woolie looks out the window at the pink spring blossoms, I am shaken by the feeling to mourn, and to celebrate. I say a silent prayer for God to bring this soul back into Adam’s life, and for his passing to be peaceful. We say goodbye to the body.
We sit by the Willamette river, Vic & I, and I have a Regina Spektor song in my head, “Laughing with God”. Throwing stones in the river, we talk about how to break the news to our roommates: in that moment our phones buzz, and Gabby has already screenshotted Adam’s mourning instagram post to the groupchat. 
Home is dark and quiet tonight, with grief lingering in empty hallways like a stench. 
So why do I think this story is funny? Come on, it’s a little funny. To meet a kitty, get him accustomed to our house, build a relationship, then see him through the end of his life in five days? To do everything wrong situationally, then for life to win out and take its natural, God-given course anyway? He was a sick cat when we got him, and there was no way to know. 
Spending the last few days of Woolie’s life with him was such a gift. I can’t help but think we were collateral damage in God acting in Adam’s life, although I can’t begin to guess at God’s plan. Bringing comfort to this animal with all the attention he asked for! Being finally attentive to his compounding health issues! Being present for his cat’s death, as Adam is called to celebrate the birth of his sister’s child! 
When I first encountered this particular Ram Dass text, I was able to sit with it; I was on a road trip, and over the course of ten days I read these many speeches. I learned to be patient with elders and my self, and that only the body dies and becomes cadaver. 
Returning today, I am reminded today that matter can neither be created, nor destroyed; but everything dies. We are witnessing the suffering of our entire world, but there is a chance for a peaceful death, and somehow I feel comforted, even consoled, by that. 
Death is treated as something morbid, something to be avoided, but we must be aware of it if we are to live. We should be grateful of the moment we go to sleep even as we are afraid of the next morning. I am smiling as I write this. I was of service to an animal that brought love and light into my life for a few meaningful days.
Of course I am smiling with tears cascading down my face. I will acknowledge here that I am not sharing my feelings I believe could bring harm to someone reading this story. My intention is to heal with words, both myself and my reader. Healing is non-linear, but in this moment of being ALIVE, we can choose to release our anger, our grief, little by little, like air from a pocket.
Be Here Now! Use the time you have to LAUGH and RELEASE! to experience the depth of emotion in the moments every human knows. 
 Being aware of our heartbeats is the greatest gift we can give to ourselves. A moment of recognition that we are on this Earth; You Are Here! Be Here Now!
And isn’t it funny, that after all this, we’re still fucking here? and if we’re lucky, we’ll be here tomorrow? And the next day? and the next day... if we’re lucky.
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2nd December >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 15:29-37 for Wednesday, First Week of Advent: ‘They all ate as much as they wanted’.
Wednesday, First Week of Advent
Gospel (Except USA)
Matthew 15:29-37
The crowds praised the God of Israel
Jesus reached the shores of the Sea of Galilee, and he went up into the hills. He sat there, and large crowds came to him bringing the lame, the crippled, the blind, the dumb and many others; these they put down at his feet, and he cured them. The crowds were astonished to see the dumb speaking, the cripples whole again, the lame walking and the blind with their sight, and they praised the God of Israel.    But Jesus called his disciples to him and said, ‘I feel sorry for all these people; they have been with me for three days now and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them off hungry, they might collapse on the way.’ The disciples said to him, ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ Jesus said to them, ‘How many loaves have you?’ ‘Seven’ they said ‘and a few small fish.’ Then he instructed the crowd to sit down on the ground, and he took the seven loaves and the fish, and he gave thanks and broke them and handed them to the disciples, who gave them to the crowds. They all ate as much as they wanted, and they collected what was left of the scraps, seven baskets full.
Gospel (USA)
Matthew 15:29-37
Jesus heals many and multiplies the bread.
At that time: Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, went up on the mountain, and sat down there. Great crowds came to him, having with them the lame, the blind, the deformed, the mute, and many others. They placed them at his feet, and he cured them. The crowds were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the deformed made whole, the lame walking, and the blind able to see, and they glorified the God of Israel.    Jesus summoned his disciples and said, “My heart is moved with pity for the crowd, for they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, for fear they may collapse on the way.” The disciples said to him, “Where could we ever get enough bread in this deserted place to satisfy such a crowd?” Jesus said to them, “How many loaves do you have?” “Seven,” they replied, “and a few fish.” He ordered the crowd to sit down on the ground. Then he took the seven loaves and the fish, gave thanks, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied. They picked up the fragments left over–seven baskets full.
Reflections (5)
(i) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
I am often struck by the question of the disciples in today’s gospel reading, ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ Jesus wanted to feed the hungry crowd and didn’t want to send them away. The disciples could see no way of doing this. Their question is a very human one. It is the kind of question we all ask when we find ourselves faced with a situation that seems beyond us. We often encounter situations in life that make us very aware of our limitations. We can easily shrink before such situations and we can be tempted to lose heart and throw in the towel. Yet, where we see problems, the Lord often sees possibilities, provided we do whatever we can do, little as it may seem to us. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus took the few resources the disciples had, seven loaves and a few small fish, and then, with their help, he fed the whole crowd with those resources. It wasn’t a case of everyone getting barely enough. No, ‘they all ate as much as they wanted’. The evangelist, Matthew, is suggesting that we must never underestimate what the Lord can do through our human resources, small as they may seem in our eyes, provided we give generously of them. As Saint Paul knew from his experience, the Lord can work powerfully through our weakness. Indeed, sometimes it is our very weakness, our vulnerability, our inadequacy, that can give the Lord the greatest scope to work through us, provided we trust in him to do so.
And/Or
(ii) Wednesday, First week of Advent
There are two questions asked in this morning’s gospel reading. One is asked by the disciples and the other is asked by Jesus. The question that the disciples ask - ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ – is a somewhat despairing question, or, at least, a defeatist question. It is a question that does not really have any hopes of an answer. The question that Jesus asks – ‘How many loaves have you?’ – is a much more focused question. It is a question that already points people in the direction of a solution to the problem they were facing, the problem of how to feed a large crowd in a deserted place. Jesus’ question called forth those seemingly insignificant human resources among the crowd, seven loaves and a few fish, that he could nevertheless work with in a very powerful way. Today’s gospel assures us that Jesus can work powerfully through the little that we possess. If he is to do that, however, we may need to ask the right kinds of questions, not the kinds of questions that leave people feeling that nothing can be done, which was the kind of question the disciples asked. We need to ask hopeful questions, the kind of question Jesus asked, questions that encourage us to look at what we actually have been given, and to trust that the Lord can accomplish far more with those resources that we might imagine.
 And/Or
(iii) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
Elevated ground features in both of our readings this morning. In the first reading, the prophet speaks of a mountain where the Lord will be the host at a great banquet. This will be a banquet of rich food and fine wines, where all mourning, sadness and shame will have been removed, and where even death itself will have been destroyed. Here is a vision which lifts us beyond the world as we know it towards another world where all is as God wants it to be. In the gospel reading, Jesus goes up into the hills and large crowds go up the hills after him. There in the hills of Galilee, Jesus gives speech to the dumb, mobility to the lame, sight to the blind. He goes on to feed the hungry with very limited resources. He feeds them so well that all ate as much as they wanted, and, even then, there were seven baskets full left over. The vision of Isaiah in the first reading becomes something of a reality in the gospel reading. Both readings speak to us of a God who wants us to have life and to have it to the full. It was Saint Irenaeus who said that the glory of God is the human person fully alive. In the gospel reading, the Lord needed others to bring the sick to him; he needed the disciples to help him feed the crowd. He continues to need us if his life-giving work is to get done. Advent calls on all of us to be instruments of the Lord’s life-giving and healing presence in the world. In Advent we pray, ‘Come Lord Jesus’. We also offer ourselves as channels for the Lord’s coming.
 And/Or
(iv) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
This morning’s first reading from Isaiah is often chosen as the first reading for a funeral Mass. It is a vision of a great feast on a mountain at which the Lord is host and from which all mourning and death have been banished forever. It is truly a feast of life. It is a vision which anticipates much of what we find in the gospels. Jesus often spoke of the kingdom of heaven, the kingdom of God’s life, as a great feast to which people from north, south, east and west would come. In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus provides a feast of life in the wilderness. It was an unexpected feast because the resources available for the feast were so few, seven loaves and a few small fish. Yet, Jesus worked powerfully through those meagre resources. The evangelist understood that feast as an anticipation of the Eucharist, where again the Lord works powerfully through meagre resources, offering us his body and blood under the simple form of bread and wine. The church has always understood the Eucharist, in turn, as an anticipation of the great banquet of eternal life. The Eucharist, like the banquet of the first reading and of the gospel reading, like the final banquet of God’s kingdom, is a feast of life, and we are sent from the Eucharist to promote life in all its forms.
 And/Or
(v) Wednesday, First Week of Advent
In the first part of today’s gospel reading, Jesus heals the broken and the crowds who witness it are astonished at Jesus’ life-giving work and praise God because of it. Jesus appears to be working on his own. Immediately after this time of ministry, Jesus attends to the needs of the crowds. Noticing how hungry they are, he has compassion for them, and sets himself the task of feeding them. However, on this occasion, he doesn’t work alone; he involves his disciples very directly. He shares his concern with the crowds with his disciples; he questions them about the resources of food to be found among the crowds; he involves them directly in feeding the crowds from these resources. Perhaps there is an image here of how the Lord works today. There are times when he engages very directly with people who come to him in their need, as in the first part of the gospel. There are other times when he needs his disciples to minister to people in the way he wants. He needs us to give expression to his own compassion for people, just as he needed the disciples in the gospel reading. Like them, we may feel inadequate before the task the Lord seems to set us, ‘Where could we get enough bread in this deserted place to feed such a crowd?’ Yet, today’s gospel reading shows us that the Lord can work powerfully through what can seem to us to be very inadequate resources. Our equivalent of the seven loaves and the few fish can be enough for the Lord to do his work, if we entrust those resources to him and create space for him to do his life-giving work through them.
Fr. Martin Hogan.
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cutesuki--bakugou · 5 years ago
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Ancient Soul
Time Travel, Quirkless, Feudal Japan AU
“Your soul does not belong here.” Those were words you never thought that you would hear. Now, thrown into the past in feudal Japan, you must find a way to survive, all while struggling to avoid the growing feelings for one hot-headed war general. War, romance, death and love drive you forward, to find the place where your soul truly belongs.
Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader
Want to start from be beginning? Check the Ancient Soul tag. New chapters released every Wednesday as long as schedule permits.
Genre: Romance / Angst Story Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Sex, Death, Depictions of Violence, Alcohol
Chapter 17: Truth
Chapter Rating: Teen | Cursing Words:  2002
Standing before the pristine tori that marked the entrance to the stairway leading up to Shōshitsu Shrine, you couldn’t help but remember how you had felt the day you came to this world. The uneasiness that had crept upon you back then was crawling across your skin like millions of tiny spiders, making you nearly want to collapse on the floor and just cower in fear. The place horrified you. It was so heavy with the many centuries of sadness and torture it had caused for hundreds, if not thousands of souls. 
“Katsuki,” you spoke softly, as if trying to not disturb any malicious spirits around you. “Do you know any history of this shrine?” 
Deciding that you weren’t going to start walking up on your own, Bakugou gave you a slight push with his hand against your back, forcing you to start following him up the stairs. “I don’t know why it was originally built, if that’s what you mean. But I do know the story of it and why it’s called the Vanishing Shrine.” 
“O-oh? What is it?” 
Bakugou gave a small grumble in thought, as if he were trying to remember all the details. “People say that a widowed woman came here every day to pray for the soul of her lover to return to her. It was constant prayers, rituals, anything that she could do that she believed would work. I think she did this for… twenty years?” 
“Wow… that’s dedication.” 
“Nothing worked in the end. She was still a lonely, foolish old woman. Until she decided to hang herself on a beam at the entrance of the shrine. From that moment on, people believed that it was cursed. Any idiot can feel that it’s different here… It’s heavy.” Bakugou turned his gaze to look out into the forest that ran along the stairway, which were dense and dark, even in the sunlight. “There is something here… and strange things do happen. Like you, for example.” 
“What about me?” 
Bakugou looked down at you, his gaze curious and almost cautious. “Everything about you. The things you talk about, the way you were dressed, that black item that I destroyed that you called a… phone?” 
“Yeah, that’s right…” 
“People are found here all the time, screaming and being incoherent. But I think that just being in this place curses the mind. Makes people do and say crazy things.” 
“Hm… I see. That is an interesting story.” Keeping your eyes down on your feet so you wouldn’t trip, you could only imagine what his reaction would be if you had told him the truth last night. He probably would have thought you were completely insane, but that didn’t really matter now. Who knows what would happen at the top of these steps, or what would become of you when all of this was over with. Still, when that final step was before you, there was no hesitation as you crossed the threshold onto the shrine grounds. 
Almost instantly, everything was lighter. You could hear the birds and bugs chirping away in the forest, the sun warm against your exposed skin. It seemed so welcoming that any story or rumor could nearly immediately be dismissed. That is what made it so dangerous, you realized. It called people in and made them stay long enough for tragedy to strike. 
“Well?” Bakugou interrupted your thoughts, having not taken that last step up. He seemed content to stay outside of the boundaries, and in truth, you wanted him to. “Can you remember anything?” 
“Ah… Give me just a moment, I’m going to walk around a bit. I’ll call if I need you.” You gave him a comforting smile, feeling your heart flutter at the worried furrow of his brow. “I’ll be okay.” 
“Fine. Don’t go too far.” 
Gathering your courage, you began your exploration, walking around the beautiful, pristine building. As you did, you tried to look for… well, anything. Anything at all that stuck out as odd to you, but by the time you walked around twice, all you had found was an oddly placed rope still dangling ominously from a beam at the entrance to the shrine. Giving a frustrated sigh, you eventually stopped, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Anything, [L/N]?” Bakugou called to you, still in his place and barely within your field of vision. 
“No, nothing. I can’t find a single-- EEK!” You squealed out in shock as the bushes beside you ruffled violently, making you stumble back over your feet and land square on your ass. 
“What was that?! Are you okay--!” 
“-- I-it’s okay, Katsuki! I’m okay, it’s just… a fo-...” Your throat closed up as you realized what it was you were looking at, glaring at you hunched over in the grass. “-- a fox.” 
Sure enough, familiar dark brown eyes were staring back at you, glancing over every inch of your form as the animal stayed low to the ground. With a flick of its left ear, you immediately saw that it was missing quite a large section, making your heart nearly leap out of your throat. “Y-you… It’s you!” 
With your loud exclamation, the fox hissed as it’s back arched, tail and fur along it’s back flared in defense. Unlike what you had experienced, the animal was completely feral with no signs that it could understand you, let alone recognize you. In a panic, you shifted to your hands and knees, crawling closer to it. “P-please, you have to recognize me! You sent me here!” The closer you got, the more aggressive the fox became, snarling with pointed carnivorous teeth. It was then that any hold on sanity you may have had broke, almost lunging at the creature, but you found you were held back by strong hands on your arms. 
“[L/N], what the hell are you doing?!” Bakugou pulled you back away from the fox as it dashed off into the woods, which only made you even more hysterical, trying to fight Bakugou to get away from him. 
“N-No, come back! You sent me here, you damn thing! Come back!” When you were swept off your feet and into Bakugou’s arms, you finally gave up on struggling, clutching on tightly to his robes. “T-That was the fox, it knows me! It sent me here!” Sobbing and wailing, you could barely hear Bakugou curse or feel the movement of him going down the stairs. 
“Damn it, [L/N]... I told you, this place takes hold of those with fragile minds. I should never have brought you back here…” 
From that moment on, time went by in a blur. 
You couldn’t seem to register or focus on anything. You felt numb, lost and completely alone in the universe, more than you ever had before. Your only hope of getting home had failed, and now you had to accept that here is where you would be until you died. You would never again experience scrolling through your favorite blogs, playing videogames with your friends, cuddling with your cat, or the calmness of driving a car in the warm evenings. All the mundane activities that you had taken for granted were gone, and though you had tried to come to terms with it way before you came to the shine, having a definitive answer was crushing. 
There was no more ‘maybe’. Instead, it was all absolute. You would live out the remainder of your life here. 
Period.
End of story. 
“I guess that settles that.” 
“Eh?” 
You and Bakugou shared a confused look, flames of the fire in front of you creating shadows that danced across his face. He seemed genuinely shocked that you had said anything in the first place, but you felt too numb to really ask why. 
“Don’t you think?” 
“Think what? [L/N], you haven’t said a single word to me in three days, and that’s what you all the sudden come out with? What the hell are you thinking about? I thought that place had made you go completely mad.” Bakugou reached up to rub the inner corners of his eyes, obviously at his wits end with this whole situation. “Damn it, I thought you weren’t ever going to snap out of it.” 
“Three days?” You gave your forehead a good rub, trying to recall any recent event besides your interaction with the fox. “Have I really been quiet that long?” 
“Not just quiet, but damn comatose.” Bakugou handed you a stick, one end of it skewered through a cooked fish. Timidly, you took it from him, trying to remember when you had stopped to go fishing. “But to answer your question,” Bakugou continued, starting on cooking another fish over the fire. “It does settle it. We’re about halfway back home.” 
“Can I have some sake?” 
“Only if you eat.” Bakugou watched you closely for a moment, waiting until you took your first bite of the fish before handing you the alcohol flask. You let it sit on your lap for a while, eating most of the fish before you took your first sip. The heat of the alcohol warmed you almost instantly, bringing feeling to your numb body. 
After your first hefty swig, you gave a sigh, leaning back on your hands. “I should have known that was going to happen. I should of just… expected it.” 
“I still don’t understand what happened…” Bakugou mumbled, only sparing you a quick glance as you took another drink. “What the hell were you even doing yelling at that animal?” 
“If I tell you, I know you won’t believe me. Even I wouldn’t believe me. It’s absolutely bonkers!” 
“What the hell is ‘bonkers’?” 
“Look, Katsuki.” You shifted yourself to face him, taking another drink. “Can you just… have an open mind right now? Just for a minute? I’m about to tell you something that you won’t understand and that sounds absolutely insane. But I swear to you, on my life, that it’s the truth. Every word of it.” 
Bakugou observed your face for a moment, giving a heavy sigh. The contemplation and curiosity were obvious on his stern expression, but you could tell by his stiff body language that he was wary. “Fine… Go on, then.” 
“I… am from the future. A different era completely, about 500 years from now, more or less.” You were surprised how casually the truth came out of your mouth, even feeling comfortable enough admitting this to take a huge bite out of your fish. “I am, or I mean, I was a college student in Kyoto studying [degree]. My best friends Mirio, Nejire and Tamaki talked me into visiting that damn fucking shrine as a little trip. I even skipped my class for it! We drove here down the highway on Mirio’s dinky little blue car, though I slept the whole two-hour trip.” 
As you went on and on, Bakugou listened silently, munching on his fish. You told him about your entire past, where you grew up, your family and everything that you used to love doing. “... I miss real shoes and jeans. Jackets with the fluff on the inside that keep you nice and toasty. Coffee! Oh god, I miss coffee.” With an agonized groan, you leaned forward, your head resting on Bakugou’s shoulder. “Mm… And chocolate. Just candy in general. My cat used to love licking lollipops…” 
At the mention of your furry best friend, your eyes immediately welled up with tears, sniffling as you squeezed in closer to rest against Bakugou’s side. “My cat… I miss my cat. I wonder what happened after I left… I hope someone is taking care of them. It must have been so scary for me to just up and vanish like that…” 
“That seems to be who you miss the most. But I’m sure that they are being cared for…”
Bakugou’s quiet, judgement free comfort brought a heat to your chest, your tears escaping you as you nuzzled your face into his robes. “Katsuki… You believe me?” 
“[L/N]... I…”
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Wednesday: Reflection on the Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Revised Common Lectionary Proper 22 Roman Catholic Proper 27
Complementary Hebrew Scripture from The Writings: Song of Solomon 8:5-14
Who is that coming up from the wilderness,  leaning upon her beloved?
Under the apple tree I awakened you. There your mother was in labor with you;  there she who bore you was in labor.
Set me as a seal upon your heart,  as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death,  passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love,  neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of his house,  it would be utterly scorned.
We have a little sister,  and she has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister,  on the day when she is spoken for? If she is a wall,  we will build upon her a battlement of silver; but if she is a door,  we will enclose her with boards of cedar. I was a wall,  and my breasts were like towers; then I was in his eyes  as one who brings peace. Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon;  he entrusted the vineyard to keepers;  each one was to bring for its fruit a thousand pieces of silver. My vineyard, my very own, is for myself;  you, O Solomon, may have the thousand,  and the keepers of the fruit two hundred!
O you who dwell in the gardens,  my companions are listening for your voice;  let me hear it.
Make haste, my beloved,  and be like a gazelle or a young stag  upon the mountains of spices!
Semi-continuous Hebrew Scripture Torah Lesson: Deuteronomy 6:10-25
When the Lord your God has brought you into the land that he swore to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give you—a land with fine, large cities that you did not build, houses filled with all sorts of goods that you did not fill, hewn cisterns that you did not hew, vineyards and olive groves that you did not plant—and when you have eaten your fill, take care that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. The Lord your God you shall fear; him you shall serve, and by his name alone you shall swear. Do not follow other gods, any of the gods of the peoples who are all around you,¹ because the Lord your God, who is present with you, is a jealous God. The anger of the Lord your God would be kindled against you and he would destroy you from the face of the earth.
Do not put the Lord your God to the test, as you tested him at Massah.² You must diligently keep the commandments of the Lord your God, and his decrees, and his statutes that he has commanded you. Do what is right and good in the sight of the Lord, so that it may go well with you, and so that you may go in and occupy the good land that the Lord swore to your ancestors to give you, thrusting out all your enemies from before you, as the Lord has promised.
When your children ask you in time to come, “What is the meaning of the decrees and the statutes and the ordinances that the Lord our God has commanded you?” then you shall say to your children, “We were Pharaoh's slaves in Egypt, but the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. The Lord displayed before our eyes great and awesome signs and wonders against Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his household. He brought us out from there in order to bring us in, to give us the land that he promised on oath to our ancestors. Then the Lord commanded us to observe all these statutes, to fear the Lord our God, for our lasting good, so as to keep us alive, as is now the case. If we diligently observe this entire commandment before the Lord our God, as he has commanded us, we will be in the right.”
¹Jesus quotes this verse in Matthew 4:10 and Luke 4:8. ²Jesus quotes this verse in Matthew 4:7 and Luke 4:14. Jesus uses both of these quotations while he is being tempted by the devil in Matthew 4:1-11 and Luke 4:1-12.
Complementary Psalm 144
Blessed be the Lord, my rock,  who trains my hands for war,  and my fingers for battle;  my rock and my fortress,  my stronghold and my deliverer,  my shield, in whom I take refuge,  who subdues the peoples under me.
O Lord, what are human beings that you regard them,  or mortals that you think of them? They are like a breath;  their days are like a passing shadow.
Bow your heavens, O Lord, and come down;  touch the mountains so that they smoke. Make the lightning flash and scatter them;  send out your arrows and rout them. Stretch out your hand from on high;  set me free and rescue me from the mighty waters,  from the hand of aliens, whose mouths speak lies,  and whose right hands are false.
I will sing a new song to you, O God;  upon a ten-stringed harp I will play to you,  the one who gives victory to kings,  who rescues his servant David. Rescue me from the cruel sword,  and deliver me from the hand of aliens, whose mouths speak lies,  and whose right hands are false.
May our sons in their youth be like plants full grown,  our daughters like corner pillars,  cut for the building of a palace. May our barns be filled, with produce of every kind;  may our sheep increase by thousands,  by tens of thousands in our fields,  and may our cattle be heavy with young. May there be no breach in the walls, no exile,  and no cry of distress in our streets.
Happy are the people to whom such blessings fall;  happy are the people whose God is the Lord.
Semi-continuous Psalm 119:49-56
Remember your word to your servant,  in which you have made me hope. This is my comfort in my distress,  that your promise gives me life.
The arrogant utterly deride me,  but I do not turn away from your law. When I think of your ordinances from of old,  I take comfort, O Lord.
Hot indignation seizes me because of the wicked,  those who forsake your law.
Your statutes have been my songs wherever I make my home.
I remember your name in the night, O Lord,  and keep your law.
This blessing has fallen to me,  for I have kept your precepts.
New Testament Gospel Lesson: John 11:45-57
There are parallel passages at Matthew 26:1-5, Mark 14:1-2, and Luke 22:1-2.
Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him. But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what he had done. So the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the council, and said, “What are we to do? This man is performing many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.” But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.” He did not say this on his own, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God. So from that day on they planned to put him to death.
Jesus therefore no longer walked about openly among the Jews, but went from there to a town called Ephraim in the region near the wilderness; and he remained there with the disciples.
Now the Passover of the Jews was near, and many went up from the country to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves. They were looking for Jesus and were asking one another as they stood in the temple, “What do you think? Surely he will not come to the festival, will he?” Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had given orders that anyone who knew where Jesus was should let them know, so that they might arrest him.
Year A Ordinary 27, RCL Proper 22 Catholic Proper 27 Wednesday
Selections are from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings copyright © 1995 by the Consultation on Common Texts. Unless otherwise indicated, Bible text is from New Revised Standard Version Bible (NRSV) copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Image credit: Annas and Caiaphas by James Tissot, via Wikimedia Commons. Annas wass Caiaphas' father-in-law. This is a public domain image.
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