#and i live in an area that my barnes and noble... is like. what a boston barnes and noble eats for breakfast.

[britneyshakespeare]

barnes and noble has been raising the prices of everything and further pushing for their premium membership option (which they raised the price of by 60 percent this year!) and then when they have big sales events, they're less than what they used to be.

last year at this time you could get one of their leather-bound book annex tomes for $12.50 (without a member discount) because of the 50 percent off all hardcover sales. but they raised the price of those tomes from 25 bucks to 30, and they decreased the sale from 50 percent off all hardcovers to 1/3rd off. so that same book that was $12.50 at last year's end-of-year sale is now 20 bucks. and that's supposed to be savings enough to induce me to walk into one of their stores this week?

i'm sorry but b&n has just gotten so greedy, even though their business has only been doing better and better in previous years. they do not have to be raising prices like they have been, and they can damn well afford to have the same savings events they used to. if you went to one of those hardcover sales a year or two ago, even if you lived in a less populated area like i do, you had never seen a b&n so busy in your life. things were flying off the shelves. they WERE making bank.

and as a company they've only been growing and growing (as much as the publishing industry has been, in recent years). but there are so many other ways to buy books. CHEAPER ways to buy books. MORE SUSTAINABLE ways to buy books. and since books and booksellers are doing really well right now, i don't see why barnes and noble is getting so greedy when they don't have to be. i dont like new shiny books that much. people buy books for the content, ultimately. sometimes we as consumers might make the choice that a new shiny book is worth paying a bit more for, but not that much. barnes and noble has just been demanding more and more of their customers' money for less and less benefit.

#kaily and i shared a membership account for several years but she cancelled it over the summer #bc of them raising it from 25 dollars per year to 40. i'm sorry but we just were not spending enough to make that worth it #the benefits for a member used to be 10 percent off everything in-store and free shipping online. #now it's 10 percent off everything in-store AND online with free shipping. which sounds good enough #but not for a 60 percent pricehike. and a bunch of other supposed benefits no one would ask for #like a free tote (geez. thanks. yeah i really need a free tote every year) and like. a free treat at a cafe on your kids' birthday? #i dont have a kid. #between the two of us. we were not buying 400 dollars worth of stuff at b&n every year #oh and it's also 10 percent off the in-store starbucks. but im pretty sure that USED to be a benefit they had #years ago?? like i SWEAR ive gotten money off at the b&n starbucks so i guess they got RID of that at some point #and gave it BACK when they HIKED UP THE PRICE TO 40 BUCKS A YEAR #text post #barnes and noble #it's a shame bc where i live. barnes and noble is the only like fancy bookstore #and i live in an area that my barnes and noble... is like. what a boston barnes and noble eats for breakfast. #it's two floors. there are plenty of books that it doesn't have. plenty of sections that are very small #like the poetry section is just pathetic. i look at it every time i go and it just makes me sad. #i guess a lot of the book annex stuff contains poetry but still that's not really enough to entertain a rich interest in the genre for long #i outgrew the limited selection at my own local b&n poetry section by the time i was twenty. i was like i already know everything here. #which isn't to say i'm an expert in poetry. it's to say that the poetry section is barely bigger than a shelf #in fact ive never thought about it before but I OWN more poetry books than you'll find in the poetry section #at my local b&n. lol #i have a lot of nostalgia for b&n even though it is a big company that does not love me. i have very few books i bought new #that are not from barnes and noble. i got so many books that changed my life from them #i guess it's like a childhood/teenage attachment at this point bc ive had more mixed feelings abt the direction theyve been taking #for several years at this point. #and no i dont mean that theyve been expanding to selling more toys/games etc. theyve literally always done that in my lifetime. who cares. #they still have books #as an adult ive been more capable of seeing how limited their book selection is and how i have so many problems w that. #and it ultimately comes down to them being a big greedy company

[spiritofjustice]

i don't hold it against any customer who chooses to buy a book off of Amazon rather than B&N because of pricing or availability but you don't need to tell us that. cause we'll say it's fine 'cause of course it is, it's your money and what works best for you, but most of us are internally like (go fuck yourself) about it BHSDH

Amazon is a fucking monster in the bookselling world. they're destroying the publishing industry. most bookstores hate them ya know, so we don't really wanna hear about it is all

#psy's no punctuation posts #i think especially cause some customers have this utter smugness about choosing amazon bcs they have better prices #ya no shit they're cheaper. they don't sell books for what they're worth and they screw over authors in doing so #like obviously it's fine if you buy from Amazon!! lower prices in this economy are huge but they're a terrible company insofar as the impac #they have on book publishing n bookstores #and it's funny because BARNES AND NOBLE used to be that! but now they're like the underdog #don't get me wrong they're a shitty corporate company like any other but it's so funny how B&N is now the one #fighting for its life against a company that's consuming its competition #B&N has the benefit of being inherently local to any area #because it's run by people who live there. the book choices are often dictated by us. we love those books and we believe in them #vs. an unfeeling algorithm online ya know #anyways i'll get off my soapbox i really don't care i just get annoyed hearing 'i'll use amazon :)' sometimes

[cryptotheism]

that anon about Anton LeVay reminded me of one of my favorite of my dad's stories. He worked in a bookstore in the area that LeVay lived and apparently LeVay was obsessed with old cars, like would come in and buy magazines about them several times a week. I guess one day my dad's order was late because of some crash on a highway and this upset LeVay greatly, he essentially yelled at my dad that he was "cursed for eternity" or something like that. My dad, of course, thought this was absolute horseshit and told him as such and LeVay had the world's largest bitch fit in the middle of a Barnes and Nobles, during this temper tantrum he moved weirdly and ripped what witnesses call "the loudest fart ever". He never came back to that location, I like to think that haunted him at night

I don't even care if you're lying that's hilarious

[tedsies]

Medieval Windenburg - Farming district complete!

With a couple of weeks gone by since I shared my completed Old Town district of Medieval Windenburg, I've now managed to reach another milestone - a second finished neighbourhood! This time, it's the rural farming area.

This district is largely comprised of peasant dwellings, but also includes a tavern and a stately home belonging to an important local family. These builds are all quite similar in style, but that's just because I think it makes sense for this area to feel quite uniform and cohesive.

As before, all builds are my own, but a special shoutout has to again go to @thesensemedieval for their amazing mod which changes the environment of Windenburg to appear more medieval (i.e. the roads, streetlights etc).

Anyway, here are some short descriptions to go with each build (in the order they are pictured):

Herbalist/midwife's cottage (picture 1) - a small home tucked away amongst a forested area, this is where the herbalist and her young protege reside. The barn that you see alongside their home is where they perform their 'rituals' and treat those who come seeking their aid. Whilst magic is outlawed in these times, most are willing to turn a blind eye if it means an improved chance of surviving childbirth or making a miraculous recovery from a sudden fatal illness.

Peasant's lakeside home (picture 2) - a humble abode situated on a small plot of land, surrounded on three sides by a lake. It has everything a small family might need to sustain themselves in medieval times, and (spoiler!) it may be where my own Sims begin their journey once I finally start playing in the save.

Journeyman's Tavern (picture 3) - a small tavern that doubles up as a dance hall/event space for the local community. A popular watering spot for those travelling in and out of the nearby city (hence its name), it also hosts a number of market stalls on its doorstep. Shopping and drinking - sounds like a perfect medieval day out!

Horse lover's haven (picture 4) - another quaint peasant home (you may recognise this as the WIP I shared a few weeks ago), but this time with a sizeable stable to house one or two horses. It again has everything a family would need to live off the land. I personally love this one.

Noble's mansion (picture 5) - a grand stately home belonging to the Lord and Lady Webb who oversee these rural lands on behalf of their good friend, the Duke of Windenburg. Whilst this house is huuuge (and as such is the only one I couldn't be bothered to furnish), its the heavily landscaped gardens which the owners take particular pride in.

Neighbouring farmers (picture 6) - two final peasant homes, who in their close proximity to one another agree to share a plot of land on which they both grow their food. These homes are small but cosy, and most importantly within stumbling distance of the local tavern!

So, what's next? I've recently been improving the Landgraab Keep lot I built a while ago, and once finished I'm torn between completing the rest of the island neighbourhood, or taking a break to actually start playing in the save. Hmmm... decisions, decisions!

#ts4 medieval #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 medieval #tedsiemedieval #tedsiemedievalbuild #ts4 build

[aprillikesthings]

I run into people--online, IRL--all the time who seem to think I'm this exotic brave creature for traveling alone and going places alone.

And, to be fair, there are places/events I do not enjoy alone!! Movies at the theater by myself aren't as fun. I've gone to a couple of concerts/shows alone and while in many cases it's better than not going, it's not as fun as going with friends. (Except for classical music concerts. I don't know why.)

And, also, I am an extrovert; and for me part of the fun of traveling alone is meeting and chatting with new people, even if just small talk.

(Lol that has come up more than once on forums/groups/etc for people who do solo travel--the actual introverts who don't want to talk to people and that's why they travel alone, getting grumpy that most of us are social and like meeting people!)

And obviously: it's fun to go places with friends or my partner. Showing my fave places and events to Daci will never get old and I still have a long list to get through! Like Astoria and Seattle!

But! I love going places by myself.

And I keep realizing: I've always done this?

I was the oldest kid and only girl among my siblings. I also often had few friends. So I went places alone or I was stuck in the house. So sometimes I just wandered around, to the extent I was allowed to do so, lost in my own thoughts, playing pretend in my head.

In Iceland as a kid (living on the American military base) I would walk around just because. I would go to the USO and drink Lipton tea and read a book because...why not? In Virginia Beach I'd walk to the store and flip through all the magazines and buy a Snapple (it was the early 90's lol) and walk home. I'd bicycle around aimlessly (not that I was allowed outside our subdivision). I would've gone to the beach or the mall alone if I'd been allowed!

My parents were considered overprotective, and I still got to do all those things. Wild to think about, now.

Moving to the Portland area, that first summer after high school I'd take the bus to Barnes and Noble and buy a frappe at Starbucks (they were NEW at the time lolll) and browse the books for hours alone, bouncing off the walls with caffeine and sugar. That fall I got my license and realized I could drive downtown (or drive to a light rail stop and take that) and nobody could stop me. I would poke through vintage clothing stores and Powell's books and nobody would hurry me along or complain that they wanted to go somewhere else. It was bliss!

And I think it was like, ten years ago or so, when I found out a fairly common source of like, anxiety? fear? -was eating at a restaurant alone. And I still cannot wrap my mind around the idea. Like....why. What are you afraid will happen? Nobody is paying attention to you. Nobody cares. Like. What?! Just bring a book.

But I've had so many people tell me I'm brave for going places alone and I just don't feel brave at all? To me being brave means being a little scared and doing it anyway, and while I'm always nervous when traveling about SOME things (taking public transit in a new place, especially when you don't speak the language; is intimidating at first), the general concept of going to a place alone is just exciting to me.

I don't have to worry about anyone's needs but my own. I can eat whenever/wherever I want, do whatever I want, go wherever I want. It's so, so freeing.

#my life #my posts #travel #solo travel

[disparition]

Why do you pick parts of California you do for In.A.Walled.City?

How do you come up with concepts like a mile wide highway nation that exists in the legacy of a Amazon delivery driver turned communist general?

There's so much imagination to extrapolate what these places should look like, does it just come from looking around and earnestly thinking about what comes next for the places we live in?

Thanks!

Yes, I spend a lot of time thinking about the future of the places I travel to. I've always been into speculative fiction of various kinds as well as more grounded theorizing about the future shapes of human societies, and when I started touring regularly I began thinking a lot about this in a more physical and direct sense.

I noticed for example that a lot of strip malls and outdoor shopping centers throughout the US - especially on the west coast - have a physical structure that can be easily converted into a small fortified community. Many of them even have decorative watchtowers and borrow the aesthetics of medieval and early modern fortifications, even if these are very superficial. This comes up in several places in the story and is part of the origin of the name, but the first one I thought about (briefly referenced in episodes 5 and 8, and it will come up again much later) was the Tejan outlet mall just north of the grapevine pass, which would be a strategically crucial area for a number of reasons.

One idea for the series came from reading a firsthand account of Napoleon's Russian campaign, written by his aide de camp Philippe Henri de Segur. It was a fascinating and very personal portrait of a huge humanmade disaster. So the first sketch I wrote, which will not appear in the series until episode 17 (Mia Marisol and the Last Governor of California) is a similarly personal account written by an aide to one of the most famous generals of the period. She was a UPS driver by the way, not Amazon. Marisol is not the same kind of figure as Napoleon and her career takes a different turn, but she is a similarly divisive and transformative figure of her time.

Another idea, for the setting, came in the form of trying to reconcile the history and present of Judaism and various Jewish communities, to address our cycle of being both victims and perpetrators of violence and oppression and nationalism. This is the core of episode 2, as well as the final section of episode 6, and is the reason that the story is set in the Hebrew year 6000 (or, the 23rd century according to the Gregorian calendar). It is a theme that will be interwoven throughout the work, and is the other part of the meaning of the name.

The first actual story I wrote in this world was what became episode 8. The first line of the episode, "first it was Borders, then it was Barnes&Noble, then it was nothing", came to me in the middle of the night and I had to get up and start writing, and The Historian was the eventual result. That episode is largely based on my own experiences in the world of publishing (I worked for Barnes&Noble.com managing their online community and customer reviews, then later for a book publishing house that was part of the Disney/ABC conglomerate) as well as my own predictions about future intersections of literature, fandom, and religion. Episode 4, The Marketer, is also part of that particular thread.

Starting in late 2020, due to a number of family crises, I had to drive between LA and SF every week or two. It was during these drives that I came up with the idea of a road as a nation in and of itself and a culture of constant travellers who maintain and regulate that road. The story of that nation is arguably the most "gimmicky" episode since it's about the future of interstate 5, it's episode 5, and musically speaking it's in 5/4. It was also the most fun to work on.

As you might guess, each episode takes a very long time to make. But I am still working on the next one. Thank you very much for listening!

[okamikami1996]

A True Horror Story

I have a story. It's not Halloween anymore, but I still think it's interesting enough to post...

This all started when I was back in California. I had watched a few movies and wanted to try out the Ouija Board. Stupid, fun stuff you do because it's only a movie. None of it is real, right? Thing is, I love scary movies, for some odd reason, I still do. In any case, I tried out the Ouija Board. I bought it from Barnes & Nobles of all places, took it home, and when my parents, my sister-- everyone-- was out of the house, I took it out and began to ask it questions. I know, I know, usually you do this with a group of friends, right? Problem is, I had almost no friends at the time. I was in a period when I was feeling depressed, and most everything I did, I did alone. The only other living being with me at the time was my dog.

I began with the usual shtick: "Is there anyone here who wishes to communicate?" You know, the usual shit, right? Well, it goes to "Yes". The thing is, I wasn't really expecting anything to happen. Yes, I know the theory behind the Ouija Board. Everyone is trying to keep their fingers still, but the oculus still moves because either our fingers aren't ever completely still or because a good friend (who is also in the circle) wanted to scare the shit out of everyone else.

Again, I'm all alone. So, halfway intrigued, halfway thinking my fingers are doing this on their own, I ask some questions. My dog was trying very hard to remove my fingers from the board. He kept nudging me and whining, and would sometimes knock the oculus off the board with his nose. I always went and picked it up and kept playing with the spirit board. I even apologized to the "spirit", if you can believe it. What can I do? I've been raised to be polite to everyone, plus I hate feeling rude. Anyhow, the "spirit's" name was something simple, "John" or something. To be honest, I can't remember the name anymore. As they continuously listened to my questions, I became more and more convinced that I was talking to a spirit. My family came home and I quickly cut the link.

Another night, I was alone. Completely alone, in fact. My family had gone away for a weekend-long trip somewhere. It was for my sister's sports activity. First thing I do when I have the time is break out the spirit board. I again start with the usual stuff, "Is there anyone who wishes to communicate?" Again, a spirit moves the oculus to "yes".

I ask, "Are you the same spirit from last time?"

"Yes."

I ask, "Why are you here?"

Before anyone says anything, I know you usually ask things about your own life (Does my crush like me? Will I get into an ivy league school?), but I was more interested in this person. Why them? Why were they here? In my house? They started talking about a flood of some sort, and so I looked up floods in the area. For some odd reason, I got a couple floods that had to do with the supernatural. I was like, "Huh. Didn't see that coming." I also didn't think much of it. I mean, the internet has been tracking what we eat, buy, and look up for a while now. I thought that because I bought the Ouija Board and looked up how to use it, that maybe that was why is brought up something supernatural.

I continued to question the spirit, but then my dog came in again. He nudged under my arm, trying to get my attention. I thought he wanted to be petted, so I disregarded him.

"Don't worry. I play with you in a minute, I promise."

Then, something strange happens. The oculus moves to "z" then to "o", then to "6". "zo" "6". "zo" "6". I'm not completely ignorant, I know about 666. Needless to say, I was freaked. But like a deer in headlights, I just watched the oculus drag across from "z" to "o" a few times before going again to the six. I probably sat there for a few minutes before my dog got my attention again. This time he was barking. I snapped out of my stupor and yelled,

"Any spirits who wish to do me or anyone in this house harm are not welcome here! Go away!" and moved the oculus to "end".

Later, I was scared and looked up "zo" on the internet. I knew what 666 meant, but was curious about why the spirit was so interested in "zo". There was nothing when I typed in "zo". So I tried typing it in twice. Zo. Zo. Zozo, a demon who is contacted through the Ouija Board. I knew that sometimes mean spirits could be contacted, that's why I always started with, "Any spirits who would do harm are not welcome", but a demon who dedicated its time to people using a spirit board..? Did not see that coming. Obviously, I was freaked. I'm Jewish, so I got out my Star of David (Since I have no cross) and burned a bunch of herbs. I went around the house saying whatever prayers I knew (not that there was a lot that I knew, I'm not the religious type nor the type to believe in demons or ghosts) and I even tried that one prayer you hear in movies all the time. You know, "Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name"..? That one.

I don't know if it helped, but I do know that my Uncle-- most reasonable, logical, math-loving guy in the world-- didn't want to be in the house alone after that whenever he visited.

A year or two later, my family moves to New York. A few months ago, I had a strange experience that brought back all of this in my mind. I had not thought about the spirit board (now rotting in some dump somewhere back in California) since I had tried to chase the "demon" or whatever out.

That night when I woke up to a feeling of utter dread, sometimes it happens-- waking up in the middle of the night from a sound-- however, my house is old and things creak and groan and go bump! in the night. I never think much of it, sometimes it'll startle me awake, but there's no dread, no fear, no need to worry about my safety. This night... this night was different.

I woke up feeling incredibly afraid, I didn't know why, but I felt as though something was in the room with me. I thought maybe I had a nightmare or something. I always remember my dreams, but sometimes I don't remember everything. I don't know why, but I was intent on pretending that I was asleep. I tried to keep my breaths even, didn't move, didn't open my eyes. I could only hope that whatever I was feeling in my room couldn't smell fear, because I was terrified. I felt like something would happen if I acknowledged what was in the room with me.

A part of me thought that it was nothing, but no matter what, my body refused to do anything but feign sleep. Then, I heard the totally mistakable sound of something making it's way across my floor. 1 step. 2 step. 3 step. I say mistakable because, again, my house is old. It creaks and groans all the time. It stops right at the side of my bed. My back is to it. Then, I feel hot breath on my ear... Have you ever had a horse breath on you? This felt similar. Something was breathing on me. My hair was moving each time it breathed out. It was hot, like it had come from something living.

To my credit, I kept still. Desperate to continue to feign sleep. I thought maybe it would loose interest if I did. Nope. I felt it move from my neck, to my face, to my ear, and then, it snarled at me!

I've never heard anything so menacing before. It was like a lion or wolf or some horrible, big animal was just letting loose in my ear! I was absolutely terrified. My breath stopped and eventually it stopped roaring at me. Somehow, I had managed to keep my eyes closed (though they were squeezed shut now instead or playing possum), I had managed not to bolt from my room (and into Mommy's room), and I hadn't screamed. For some reason, it left. I didn't hear the door open, didn't hear the footsteps, no shuffling, no noise. It was as though nothing was in the room at all. I finally opened my eyes and let out the breath I had been holding.

After everything, I felt angry. Something had come into my room and scared the shit out of me. My house is my sanctuary, the place where I should always feel safe. I sure as hell didn't that night. The next night, still boiling, I said to my empty room:

"This is my room, my house, my rules. You do not get to come in here and bully me however the **** you like! You will not come back, you are not welcome here! You WILL get gone, and stay gone. Are we clear?"

Was this all a dream? Was the thing with the spirit board real? Was I completely loosing it or maybe I just wanted something exciting to happen so my brain concocted this entire thing? Was I stressed? Or... was it all real? Is there something else that humans can't explain and can't touch or capture out there? I don't know. For now, I haven't been bothered by my unwelcome guest again. Was it because I told a spirit off or did I tell my imagination that it wasn't allowed to step out of line?

In any case, I hope you enjoyed my scary story. After all, the best scary stories are the true ones, right?

#weird but true #haunted #real life or not?

[elliepassmore]

Someone You Can Build a Nest In release!

Shesheshen has made a mistake fatal to all monsters: she's fallen in love.

Shesheshen is a shapeshifter, who happily resides as an amorphous lump at the bottom of a ruined manor. When her rest is interrupted by hunters intent on murdering her, she constructs a body from the remains of past meals: a metal chain for a backbone, borrowed bones for limbs, and a bear trap as an extra mouth.

However, the hunters chase Shesheshen out of her home and off a cliff. Badly hurt, she’s found and nursed back to health by Homily, a warm-hearted human, who has mistaken Shesheshen as a fellow human. Homily is kind and nurturing and would make an excellent co-parent: an ideal place to lay Shesheshen’s eggs so their young could devour Homily from the inside out. But as they grow close, she realizes humans don’t think about love that way.

Shesheshen hates keeping her identity secret from Homily, but just as she’s about to confess, Homily reveals why she’s in the area: she’s hunting a shapeshifting monster that supposedly cursed her family. Has Shesheshen seen it anywhere?

Eating her girlfriend isn’t an option. Shesheshen didn’t curse anyone, but to give herself and Homily a chance at happiness, she has to figure out why Homily’s twisted family thinks she did. As the hunt for the monster becomes increasingly deadly, Shesheshen must unearth the truth quickly, or soon both of their lives will be at risk.

And the bigger challenge remains: surviving her toxic in-laws long enough to learn to build a life with, rather than in, the love of her life.

Bookshop.org

Barnes & Noble

This is what I would classify as 'light horror.' Is there gore? Yes. Can it be gruesome? Yes. Is it funny and overall lighthearted? Also yes. I had a lot of fun reading this novel. Shesheshen is such a unique narrator and I really loved the casual 'eat people as a solution' mentality that she had. I also liked Homily, who was extremely protective and, despite the fact that she's hunting a monster, doesn't even entirely want to hurt it.

That being said, this novel also deals with some heavier themes, like abuse and power dynamics, so keep that in mind. I think Wiswell did a good job balancing the horror, humor, and heaviness so that all three mesh well together and none of them feel out of place or overdone.

Interested and want a more in-depth opinion? Check out my full review!

#book #books #book recommendations #fantasy #bookstagram #booklr #bookblr #bookaholic #bookish #horror books #horror #horror comedy #light horror #lgbtq characters #lgbtq books #monsters #someone you can build a nest in #advanced readers copy #netgalley

[pinespittinink]

🦢 15 questions, 15 mutuals 🦢

i've been tagged by @baroquesse, @flowerprose, and @the-void-writes

taggingggg: @legiomiam, @awritingcaitlin, @juls-writes, @clockworkgalaxies, @tc-doherty, @jess-p-edits, @cherrybombfangirlwrites, @magnus-s-writes, @queenslayerbee, @tragicbackstoryenjoyer, @brain-wanders, @antlerhymnals, @golden-heretic, @samplewriting, @moonscribbler

Are you named after anyone? Not that I know of! My mother wanted to name me Josephine, which I would have loved, but I'm very fond of my name.

When was the last time you cried? I don't remember tbh. Recently, but my short term memory has been foggy lately.

Do you have kids? No. I don't know if I ever will. Part of me would love to, but I'd need at least one other person to help raise them, ideally two more. But how do you go about building a polycule in this day in age when you live in a sparsely queer area?

Do you use sarcasm? It's not uncommon. Unfortunately I don't have the best handle on my tone sometimes, so I try to be mindful of it.

What's the first thing you notice about people? Manner through expression. Whether someone is open or hard, or closed off, abrupt or friendly.

What's your eye color? Light brown. I'll always remember a past job during the height of mask-wearing where Percival (TGGT's namesake Percival) realized I had such light eyes, and he was like, "I didn't realize you had colored eyes, I thought they were black/dark [like his]"

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. I'm a baby about scary movies.

Any special talents? Singing. I'm a mezzo soprano who was a child prodigy (trained by an opera singer since age four--she taught exclusively teenagers and up and never had taken a pupil in the single digits, let alone that young).

Where were you born? In my home state, New Hampshire.

What are your hobbies? Writing is my main one, but I've actively returned to reading and I'm so glad about it. I also video game frequently, notably fantasy rpgs like Dragon Age and the Witcher, as well as Hades and Animal Crossing (always down to swap friend codes, I have two islands and I'm in terraforming hell on one of them)

Have you any pets? Three kitties! Indy, Eurydice, and Napoleon. A Norwegian Forest cat, and two ragdolls.

What sports do you play/have played? Basketball in middle school but never on a team.

How tall are you? 5'5.

Favorite subject in school? English/language arts.

Dream job? Not uncommon here I'm sure, but to be a traditionally published author successful enough to provide for myself without another job would be amazing. Other than that, a corporate position within Barnes & Noble or Lush, maybe.

#tag memes

[kcrabb88]

I posted 1,927 times in 2022

That's 165 more posts than 2021!

382 posts created (20%)

1,545 posts reblogged (80%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@pilferingapples

@rosesutherlandwrites

@amarguerite

@thegreatblondebalrogslayer

@kcrabb88

I tagged 1,925 of my posts in 2022

#les mis - 334 posts

#fanart - 320 posts

#gifs - 303 posts

#star wars tag - 231 posts

#kcrabb rambles - 219 posts

#obi-wan kenobi - 198 posts

#pirates tag - 188 posts

#sea tag - 144 posts

#the constellation trilogy - 139 posts

#black sails - 131 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#god i remember casual fans being like oh dominic west was good in this and i'm like he couldn't be because the script did valjean no justice

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Les Mis meets Black Sails + Robin Hood in Sailing by Orion’s Star (The Constellation Trilogy, #1), out TODAY! 

In the 18th century West Indies, stories hold the ultimate power. Sailors spin yarns about pirates. Newspapers tell tales full of half-truths. Myths spread like whispered wildfire.

East India Company sailor Nicholas Jerome has no patience for pirates, determined to leave his father's thieving past behind. After a convict and an enslaved woman escape his grasp with the aid of an aristocrat's mysterious wife, he faces one last chance to save his career. Finding an unexpected home with a new crew, he gains a chosen younger brother in René Delacroix, the son of his wealthy captain and the grandson of Jamaica's cruel governor.

But there's a storm brewing in the Delacroix household. For René and his best friend Frantz, the Robin Hood tales about legendary pirate Ajani Danso and his famed female quartermaster are a lifeline amidst the governor's abuse. Danso robs greedy merchants, frees slaves, and shelters queer sailors, inspiring the downtrodden across the New World.

When death and betrayal shatter the lives they knew, René and Jerome each face a choice: obey, or rebel.

A war for history's favor begins, and as an uprising against colonialism erupts on the ocean, everyone must choose a story to believe in.

You can order here (paperback or e-book from several retailers) or here (for readers outside the US who want to order a paperback from a non-Amazon retailer).

135 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

#4

Sailing by Orion’s Star Cover Reveal!

I am so EXTREMELY excited to reveal the cover for Sailing by Orion’s Star! This gorgeous artwork was done by the wonderful Abby Gavit, whose work you can check out here. @prosodi​

I’ve spent a long time thinking about what this cover would look like, and I honestly could not be more pleased with this. Truly, it is a dream cover. I want to give a special shout out to the Les Mis fandom, who have been with me on this project since its very early days, when I didn’t know what it would be. <3 

Sailing by Orion’s Star will release on April 26th! 

Also, check out the full wrap cover (and the blurb!) for the print edition. Don’t miss the skull in the clouds!

See the full post

150 notes - Posted February 22, 2022

#3

Do you like Les Mis, Black Sails, Robin Hood tales, queer pirates, found families and epics? Paperback pre-orders for Sailing by Orion’s Star (The Constellation Trilogy, #1) are live! Release is set for 4/26. 

Amazon

Barnes & Noble 

Book Depository (Sometimes if you’re using Chrome the cover doesn’t pop up, so if you don’t see it, it is the right listing and you can still pre-order! The cover has popped up on all other browsers)

Bookshop (US friends, if you haven’t used this website before, you can choose a digital “storefront” for participating indie bookstores, and they will profit off the sale. If you’re near the DC area, I tend to choose Kramer’s or East City Books. And hey, if enough folks buy from particular indies, maybe they’ll consider stocking it in store!)

International friends: you should be able to buy paperbacks from Amazon if it’s available in your country, and Book Depository (above) ships to something like 160 countries (The UK, pretty much all of Europe, some parts of Asia and South America, etc.) 

Interested in e-books? I have those too! You can get it on Kindle, Kobo, Nook, and others. (Kobo is easy for international folks!) 

Add the book on Goodreads! 

Subscribe to my newsletter for fun pirate facts and updates! 

For content warnings, check out my website

Book trailer!

240 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

#2

The 2012 Les Mis movie surely has its issues, but god, that transition from Stars to Look Down (Paris) is just *chef’s kiss*

344 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Okay so here’s the thing. If I see one more “who cares about historical accuracy in a historical piece of media” I am truly going to lose my entire mind. I’m not asking for TOTAL accuracy down to the detail (I don’t strive for that, and things should connect with a modern reader) but I AM asking that books and shows and movies ENGAGE WITH THE PERIOD THEY’RE SUPPOSEDLY SET IN. The new Persuasion is just the newest (and one of the most egregious) instances of this, but I’ve seen this sentiment a lot, recently. If you don’t care about historical stuff, then why create or engage with historical media? The goal should not be to “modernize” historical fiction, but to create and engage with more diverse historical media. Different settings and periods! More stories about queer and BIPOC folks! Historical fiction has so so much to offer without stripping it of all historical context. I’m tired. 

1,793 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #WOW THIS IS ALL SO ON BRAND I'M LAUGHING

[belleville-to-nyc-in-45]

I'm here to help

I have no idea if this is a fool's errand or not, but I've been reading a ton of frerard fics this year and I wanted to pay back a little of all the joy (and tears) the authors of this stuff have given me.

I've noted at times that folks don't know much about New Jersey and what things are like, and were like in the past, here.

The title of this blog is an example. I'll often see folks talking about Belleville (where the Ways in particular are from) as if it's hours and hours from NYC. It's not. It takes about 30-45 minutes to get to NYC, it's not a long drive and does not require an overnight stay.

I have some credentials that I'm hoping will be helpful for you all. I live in NJ, and have my whole life. I'm about 2 years older than Gerard and grew up in the next town over from Belleville (in Bloomfield). I used to go to one of the same comic book stores as Gerard, worked at the same Barnes & Noble as Mikey (about 2 years before him) and went to Montclair State (and also dropped out like Mikey). I currently live in the same area as Frank's dad, where he used to go every weekend growing up.

When you hear me talk, I have the same accent as the band. There's various slang or ways of talking that I'm happy to pass on as well as talking about what the vibe is like here in Jersey. I love the state as much as Frank does. lol. Jersey people myself and the band grew up around (and became ourselves) have some interesting quirks a lot of us share, like generally coming off as pretty aggressive and talking fast. The f-bomb is the salt on a well-seasoned sentence and it has infinite meanings, some good and some bad.

I'm also currently working on an original novel set in the 2002-2006 time period, so I'm actively researching the tech and culture of that era to remind myself of what was going on then. 20 years makes the memories a little hazy. :D But I can talk about what it was like to go through 9/11 around the same age as the guys and what the social impact was like here in the area.

Which is all to say that I have a lot of information and first-hand knowledge about New Jersey and the area the band grew up in as well as tons of info about the time period.

Asks are open. Ask me anything and I'd be happy to help you make your fics more accurate.

Let me know if there's topics you'd like covered and I can write up a post about whatever, too.

#frerard #mcr fanfiction #mcr fic #frerard fanfiction #frerard fic #bandom

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

17th March >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on 

Matthew 13:24-32 for the Feast of Saint Patrick, Bishop, Missionary

And on

Mark 12:28-34  for Friday, Third Week of Lent.

Feast of Saint Patrick, bishop, Missionary

Gospel (Ireland, United Kingdom)

Matthew 13:24-32

Let them both grow till the harvest.

Jesus put another parable before the crowds: ‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everybody was asleep his enemy came, sowed darnel all among the wheat, and made off. When the new wheat sprouted and ripened, the darnel appeared as well. The owner’s servants went to him and said, “Sir, was it not good seed that you sowed in your field? If so, where does the darnel come from?” “Some enemy has done this” he answered. And the servants said, “Do you want us to go and weed it out?” But he said, “No, because when you weed out the darnel you might pull up the wheat with it. Let them both grow till the harvest; and at harvest time I shall say to the reapers: First collect the darnel and tie it in bundles to be burnt, then gather the wheat into my barn.”’

   He put another parable before them: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed which a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the biggest shrub of all and becomes a tree so that the birds of the air come and shelter in its branches.’

Reflections (14)

(i) Feast of Saint Patrick

As many of you know, a well associated with Saint Patrick for many centuries is to be found a short distance from the church, just off Mellowes Road. He may well have spent some time in the Finglas area. Saint Patrick doesn’t just belong to the Irish. His two writings that have come down to us can speak to people of any nationality. It is those writings that give us access to the life of Saint Patrick and the kind of person he was.

I was reading a little booklet on St Patrick recently, written by a Jesuit, Fr Edmond Grace. He writes he had been living in New York for almost a year when he stopped one day at Saint Patrick’s Cathedral. In it he found a woman in deep prayer, looking up at a statue of Saint Patrick. She was African-American and he wondered why she might be praying to St Patrick. The answer came to him as he stepped outside the Cathedral. She was praying to a man who had been taken by force across the sea and condemned to a life of slavery, just as her ancestors had been taken as slaves in the hold of a ship across the Atlantic. Patrick escaped from slavery, but he returned to live among the people who had enslaved him to preach the gospel to them. He wanted his former captors to know the strength of God’s love for them. Fr Grace came to see that Saint Patrick had a message for this woman, and that Patrick belongs to anyone who wants to love those who have done them wrong.

Patrick wrote his Confession or Testimony towards the end of his life to let people know ‘what kind of man I am’. He tells us that he came from a privileged background. His father was a town counsellor and a deacon of the church, who had a comfortable house with many servants. Patrick says that he was born free, of noble rank. At the age of sixteen, he was taken captive with others and brought to Ireland. He found himself among strangers. Gone were his comfortable home, his loving family, his freedom. He was now a slave, with no rights or protection, without friend or future. It is hard to imagine the impact of such a traumatic experience on one so young. Yet, writing in old age, he recognizes the great gifts that came to him during this painful time of exile. Although his grandfather was a priest, and Patrick had been baptized, he acknowledges that as an adolescent he ‘did not know the true God’. However, in exile, while herding sheep in all kinds of weathers he had a spiritual awakening. He refers to the ‘great benefits and graces the Lord saw fit to confer on me in my captivity’. He says, ‘my faith increased and the spirit was stirred up so that in the course of a single day I could say as many as a hundred prayers, and almost as many in the night’. In this time of great vulnerability, Patrick came to know the Lord’s great love for him. Sometimes our own valleys of darkness can open us up to a sense of the Lord’s loving presence in our lives. As Mary says in her Magnificat, God ‘raises the lowly’.

Six years into his captivity, Patrick says he heard a voice saying to him, ‘Soon, you will go to your own country’, and then, a short while later, he heard the voice say, ‘Look, your ship is ready’. He knew his time had come to escape. After three days sailing and several weeks travelling through deserted country, he eventually made his way home to his family. Having been profoundly touched by God in the years since he left his family, he was now sensitive to the call of God in his life. Sometime after returning home, he heard the Lord’s call to go back to the land of his former captivity to preach the gospel there. After training for the priesthood, he arrived back in Ireland, this time as a free man. He speaks of himself now as a ‘stranger and exile for the love of God’. He writes of ‘the people to whom the love of God brought me’, and ‘the love of Christ gave me to them to serve them humbly and sincerely for my entire lifetime. His mission in Ireland was fraught with dangers and difficulties of all sorts. Yet, he had a strong sense of the many ways the Lord was working through him. He writes, ‘I am very much in debt to God, who gave me so much grace that through me people should be born again in God and afterwards confirmed’. Through him, he says ‘the gospel was brought to the most remote districts beyond which nobody lives and where nobody had ever come to baptize, to ordain clergy or to confirm the people’.

Patrick’s life teaches us to be attentive to the ways that the Lord may be powerfully at work in our darkest moments. Whereas it is never the Lord’s desire that misfortune should come our way, when it does come our way, he is always there beside us, working to bring some good out of what has befallen us. Patrick also teaches us that the Lord can work powerfully through us in spite of our many failings. Patrick was very aware that, in the image of the gospel reading, he was a mixture of wheat and weeds. He begins his Confession, ‘I am Patrick, a sinner, the least of all the faithful’. Yet, like Pope Francis, he had come to know that he was a loved sinner, loved by God. We are all loved sinners and the Lord wants to work through each of us to bring others into the embrace of his love. We can all make our own Saint Patrick’s prayer in his Confession, ‘I ask God for perseverance, to grant that I remain a faithful witness to him for his own sake, until my passing from this life’.

And/Or

(ii) Feast of Saint Patrick

 Today on the feast of St. Patrick, we celebrate the beginnings of the Christian story on this island. We remember Patrick as the one who lit a flame that has remained lighting for nearly sixteen hundred years. Like Paul and Barnabas in today’s second reading, he was a light to the nations, to this nation. When children are baptized, as the baptismal candle is lit from the Easter candle, the celebrant says to their parents and godparents, ‘This light is entrusted to you to be kept burning brightly. These children of yours have been enlightened by Christ… May they keep the flame of faith alive in their hearts’. Today we give thanks that the flame of faith Patrick first lit has been kept alive among us.

 Two of Patrick’s own writings have been preserved for us. They are his Confessions and a letter he wrote to the soldiers of a chieftain by the name of Coroticus. Through these writings the voice of Patrick continues to be heard among us. It is above all from his Confessions that we get the fascinating story of his life.

 He was born a citizen of Roman Britain. His father was a town councillor, part of the Roman administration in southern Britain, who owned a country residence with male and female servants. Patrick came from a Christian family. He tells us that his father was a priest and that his grandfather was a deacon. Yet, as a youth, Patrick’s faith was lukewarm.  Looking back on his youth many years later, he writes in his Confessions: ‘We had turned away from God; we did not keep his commandments’. We can imagine that this must have been a disappointment to his parents.

 Then at the tender age of sixteen, his rather comfortable world came crashing down around him. Writing in his Confessions, he says: ‘I was taken captive as a youth, a mere child… I was taken into captivity in Ireland with many thousands of people… this is where I now am, among strangers’. At a vulnerable and impressionable age, he was wrenched from the family that loved him, taken from his home, his friends, his culture, and thrown into a foreign land as a slave. An experience like that could destroy a young man. Yet, Patrick tells us that in this harsh exile, he had a powerful experience of God’s presence. When everything had been taken from him, he found God, or, rather, God found him. He writes in his Confessions about ‘the great benefits that the Lord saw fit to confer on me in my captivity’. He uses a powerful image to describe his spiritual reawakening: ‘Before I was humbled, I was like a stone lying in the deep mud. Then he who is mighty came and in his mercy he not only pulled me out but lifted me up and placed me at the very top of the wall’. In the wilderness of exile, his faith came alive.

 He goes on to tell us in his Confessions that six years after first coming to Ireland as a slave, at the age of twenty two, he managed to escape from his captivity and to make his way back to Roman Britain. What a home coming that must have been for his parents, who probably thought they would never see him again. They considered him dead, and here he was alive, lost, and now he was found. Patrick states that ‘they earnestly begged me that I should never leave them’. Some years later, Patrick tells us, he had a vision of a man coming from Ireland with a large number of letters. In his vision, Patrick took one of these letters in his hands, and as he began to read it he heard a crowd shout with one voice: ‘We ask you, boy, come and walk once more among us’.

 That vision touched him deeply. He did not come back to Ireland immediately. He first pursued higher studies in preparation for the priesthood, probably in Roman Gaul. After several years he made the journey back to the land of his captivity, initially as a priest. Having established himself as a missionary, he was appointed bishop. He writes in his Confessions: ‘I came to the Irish heathen to preach the good news’. He goes on to write: ‘I am very much in dept to God who gave me so much grace that through me many people should be born again in God and afterwards confirmed’. It is extraordinary that Patrick was prepared to endure voluntary exile to bring the gospel to a people among whom he had experienced captivity. He brought the precious gift of the Christian faith to those who had taken away his freedom many years earlier. I am reminded of a line in one of Paul’s letters: ‘Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good’. It could only have been Patrick’s relationship with the Lord that enabled him to overcome evil with good, as the Lord himself had done.

 Patrick’s story can still speak to us over the centuries. The darkest moment in his life proved to be life-giving both for himself and for the people in the land of his captivity. We have all know our own dark moments. At times we can feel that we are in a kind of exile ourselves, cut off from the supports that we had come to value so much. In ways we might never suspect at the time, such experiences can turn out to be life-giving for ourselves and others. God can be preparing us in those dark times to be labourers in his harvest, like the seventy two in today’s gospel reading. Patrick’s feast day invites us to trust that God can turn even our darkest experiences to good and can bring unexpected new life out of our losses.

And/Or

(iii) Feast of St. Patrick’s Day

 About four years ago I climbed Croagh Patrick for the first time in the company of my sister and brother-in-law. They both live in Southern California. Patrick, who is from the United States, was determined to climb Croagh Patrick. He was recovering from cancer at the time, and, in spite of a very bad back, he wanted to make this climb in thanksgiving for having come through his surgery and treatment so well, and, also, as a form of prayer of petition for God’s ongoing help. We managed to get to the top, just about.

 The Croagh Patrick climb is one expression of the cult of St. Patrick that has continued down to our time. We venerate Patrick today because he spent himself in proclaiming the gospel on this island, bringing Christ to huge numbers of people. He says in his Confessions, ‘I am very much in debt to God who gave me so much grace that through me many people should be born again in God and afterwards confirmed, and that clergy should be ordained for them everywhere’. In amazement at what God had done through him, he asks, ‘How then does it happen in Ireland that a people who in their ignorance of God always worshipped only idols and unclean things up to now, have lately become a people of the Lord and are called children of God?’

 On his feast day we give thanks for Patrick’s response to God’s call to preach the gospel in the land of his former captivity. His first journey to Ireland was not of his own choosing. He was brought here as a slave at the age of 16, having been cruelly separated from his family and his homeland. This must have been a hugely traumatic experience for a young adolescent. He says in his confessions: ‘I was taken captive… before I knew what to seek or what to avoid’. Yet, out of this difficult experience came great good. Although Patrick had been baptized a Christian in his youth, he had developed no relationship with Christ. The faith into which he had been baptized had made no impact on his life. It was only in his captivity that Christ became real for him. In the land of his exile he had a religious awakening. He tells us: ‘When I came to Ireland… I used to pray many times during the day. More and more the love of God and reverence for him came to me. My faith increased… As I now realize, the spirit was burning within me’. That spiritual awakening had enormous consequences, not only for himself but for the people of the land where he was held captive.

 The Lord somehow got through to Patrick during the rigours of captivity in a way he had not got through to Patrick during his reasonably privileged upbringing at home. Patrick uses a striking image to express this transformation in his life: ‘Before I was humbled I was like a stone lying in the deep mud. Then he who is mighty came and in his mercy he not only pulled me out but lifted me up and placed me at the very top of the wall’.

 Patrick’s own story brings home to us that the Lord can work powerfully in dark and troubling times. In the course of our lives we can be brought places that we would rather not go. We might be separated from someone or some place that has been very significant for us. We find ourselves isolated and adrift, in unfamiliar and threatening territory, unsure of our future and with regrets about the past. Patrick’s story reminds us that when we find ourselves in such wilderness places, the Lord does not abandon us. Rather when we seem to be losing so much, he can grace us all the more. Patrick says in his confessions: ‘I cannot be silent… about the great benefits and graces that the Lord saw fit to confer on me in the land of my captivity’. When we are brought low, for whatever reason, the Lord will be as generous with us as he was with Patrick. If we remain open to the Lord in such times, as Patrick did, the Lord will not only grace us but he will also grace many others through us.

 Patrick’s experience teaches us to be alert to the signs of God’s presence even in difficult times. Patrick’s story reminds us that the Lord continues to work powerfully in what appears to be unpromising situations. In this morning’s gospel reading the prospects for a great catch of fish seemed very slim to Peter and his companions. After all, they had worked hard all night and had caught nothing. Yet, Jesus saw great prospects where Peter and the others saw little of promise. When Peter and the others set out in response to the word of Jesus they saw for themselves what Jesus could see all along. The Lord is always creatively at work even in the most unpromising of situations. However, if his work is to bear fruit, he needs us to set out in faith and hope in response to his word, as Peter and his companions did in this morning’s gospel reading, as Patrick did when he left his home for a second time to come to the island of his former captivity. We pray this morning for something of Patrick’s courageous and expectant faith.

And/Or

(iv) St. Patrick’s Day

 We venerate Patrick on this his feast day because he spent himself in proclaiming the gospel on this island, bringing Christ to huge numbers of people. He says of himself in his Confessions, ‘The love of Christ gave me to these people to serve them humbly and sincerely for my entire lifetime’. In amazement at what God had done through him, he asks, ‘How then does it happen in Ireland that a people who in their ignorance of God always worshipped only idols and unclean things up to now, have lately become a people of the Lord and are called children of God?’ He was amazed at how much God had done through him, all the more so because he was very aware of his failings and weaknesses. At the beginning of his Confessions he says, ‘although I am imperfect in many ways I want my brothers and sisters and my relatives to know what kind of man I am so that they may understand the aspiration of my life’. Later on in his Confessions he says, ‘I realize that I did not altogether lead a life as perfect as other believers’. Patrick knew that he was a mixture of wheat and weed, like the field in the parable of today’s gospel reading. In that parable the owner of the field does not despise the field because darnel was to be found among the wheat. He was happy to allow both to grow together knowing that they would be separated at harvest time. When the Lord looks upon us, he looks beyond our failings to the good that is within us. Patrick did not allow his awareness of his imperfections to hold him back from doing what he knew God was calling him to do. There is a lesson there for us all, especially in these days when we have become more aware of the church’s imperfections and failings.

 On his feast day we give thanks for Patrick’s response to God’s call to preach the gospel in the land of his former captivity. He was brought here as a slave at the age of 16, having been cruelly separated from his family and his homeland. This must have been a hugely traumatic experience for a young adolescent. Yet, out of this difficult experience came great good. Although Patrick had been baptized a Christian in his youth, he had developed no relationship with Christ. The faith into which he had been baptized had made no impact on his life. It was only in his captivity that Christ became real for him. He tells us: ‘When I came to Ireland… I used to pray many times during the day... My faith increased… the spirit was burning within me’. Patrick uses a striking image to express this transformation in his life: ‘Before I was humbled I was like a stone lying in the deep mud. Then he who is mighty came and in his mercy he not only pulled me out but lifted me up and placed me at the very top of the wall’. That spiritual awakening had enormous consequences, not only for himself but for the people of the land where he was held captive.

 In the course of our lives we can find ourselves in unfamiliar and threatening territory, unsure of our future and with regrets about the past. Patrick’s story reminds us that when we find ourselves in such wilderness places, the Lord is with us. Our brokenness can provide the openings for the Lord to enter our lives. Patrick says in his confessions: ‘I cannot be silent… about the great benefits and graces that the Lord saw fit to confer on me in the land of my captivity’. When we are brought low, for whatever reason, the Lord will be as generous with us as he was with Patrick, and if we seek the Lord in such times, as Patrick did, the Lord will not only grace us but he will grace many others through us.

 After six years Patrick said that he was given the opportunity to escape from his captivity. He was directed to a boat some distance from where he was minding sheep. The captain reluctantly took him on board. Three days sailing was followed by twenty eight days journeying through deserted country. At the end of that journey Patrick describes a very dark spiritual experience that he had, ‘when I was asleep Satan tempted me with a violence which I will remember as long as I am in this body. There fell on me as it were a great rock and I could not stir a limb’. However, he goes on to say that when he cried out in prayer he saw the sun rising in the sky and ‘the brilliance of that sun fell suddenly on me and lifted my depression at once’. Reflecting on that experience, he declares, ‘I believe that I was sustained by Christ my Lord and that his Spirit was even then calling out on my behalf’. Patrick was a great missionary but he also struggled with the darker experiences of life. Yet, he knew the Lord’s presence in his darkness of spirit as much as in the success of his mission. Patrick’s experience teaches us to be alert to the signs of God’s presence in difficult times as well as in good times, in those times when we are more aware of the darnel in our lives than of the wheat.

And/Or

(v) Feast of Saint Patrick

Today on the feast of St. Patrick, we remember Patrick as the one who lit a flame that has remained lighting for nearly sixteen hundred years. He was one of the first to preach the gospel in our land; he broke new ground. The Lord could have said of Patrick’s mission what he says in today’s first reading, ‘See, I am doing a new deed, even now it comes to light; can you not see it?’

 Two of Patrick’s own writings have been preserved for us. It is above all from his Confession that we get the fascinating story of his life. He was probably born a citizen of Roman Britain and came from a Christian family. Yet, as a youth, his faith was lukewarm.  He writes in his Confessions: ‘We had turned away from God; we did not keep his commandments’. At the tender age of sixteen, his rather comfortable world came crashing down around him. Writing in his Confessions, he says: ‘I was taken into captivity in Ireland with many thousands of people’. Patrick became an emigrant, against his wishes. Many of our young people today find themselves in a similar situation. We probably all know family and friends who have recently emigrated without it being their first choice. Patrick’s forced emigration was of a rougher kind. He was wrenched from the family that loved him by captives, and thrown into a foreign land as a slave. An experience like that could destroy a young man. Yet, Patrick tells us that in this harsh exile, he had a powerful experience of God’s presence. He writes in his Confessions about ‘the great benefits that the Lord saw fit to confer on me in my captivity’. In the wilderness of exile, when everything was taken from him, his faith started to fan into a living flame. In this moment of spiritual re-awaking he could easily have made his own the words of Paul in today’s second reading, ‘I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Christ and be given a place in him... All I want is to know Christ’. Whenever we experience some devastating loss, the suffering can be bitter indeed; we find ourselves at the foot of the cross. Yet, like Patrick, we can also find, perhaps to our surprise, that the risen Lord comes to us in that dark place and touches us deeply.

 Patrick goes on to tell us in his Confessions that six years after first coming to Ireland as a slave, at the age of twenty two, he escaped from his captivity and made his way home. What a home coming that must have been for his parents. Patrick states that ‘they earnestly begged me that I should never leave them’. Yet, some years later, he had a vision of a man coming from Ireland with a large number of letters and in that vision he heard a crowd shout with one voice: ‘We ask you, boy, come and walk once more among us’. There and then he decided to answer the call. He first pursued studies for the priesthood, probably in Roman Gaul. After several years he made the journey back to the land of his captivity, initially as a priest. Having established himself as a missionary, he was appointed bishop. He writes in his Confessions: ‘I came to the Irish heathen to preach the good news’. This time Patrick voluntarily went into exile to bring the gospel to the very people who had formerly held him captive. He brought the precious gift of the Christian faith to those who had taken away his freedom many years earlier.

 At the heart of the gospel that Patrick preached was the message of the Lord’s love of us in all our frailty and weakness. That is the message of this morning’s gospel reading. The religious leaders brought a woman caught in the act of adultery to Jesus for his judgement. They thought of themselves as good religious people in contrast to the sinful woman. Jesus’ comment, ‘If there is one of you who has not sinned, let him be the first to throw a stone at her’, showed them that they were just as much sinners as she was. The reality is that we are all sinners; we just sin in different ways. The good news of Jesus is that God loves us unconditionally in spite of our sin. To receive that love and allow ourselves to be transformed by it, we simply need the humility to acknowledge our sin and to come before the Lord in our poverty. This was the humility Paul shows in our second reading, ‘Not that I have become perfect yet... but I am still running’. This humility characterized the life of Patrick too and as is clear from the opening words of his Confession, ‘I am Patrick, a sinner, the most unlearned of men, utterly worthless in the eyes of many’. He knew his past was far from perfect. Yet, he came to understand that the Lord is more interested in our present and our future than in our past. That was the message of Jesus to the woman in the gospel reading. It is his message to all of us.

And/Or

(vi) Feast of Saint Patrick

We venerate Patrick on this his feast day because he gave himself over to proclaiming the gospel on this island, bringing Christ to huge numbers of people. He says of himself in his Confessions, ‘The love of Christ gave me to these people to serve them humbly and sincerely for my entire lifetime’. In amazement at what God had done through him, he asks, ‘How then does it happen in Ireland that a people who in their ignorance of God always worshipped only idols and unclean things up to now, have lately become a people of the Lord and are called children of God?’ He was amazed at how much God had done through him. We are the heirs of Patrick’s great missionary work. He lit a new fire in this land which has never gone out. Patrick was all the more amazed at how God had worked through him because he was very aware of his failings and weaknesses. At the beginning of his Confessions he says, ‘although I am imperfect in many ways I want my brothers and sisters and my relatives to know what kind of man I am so that they may understand the aspiration of my life’. Later on in his Confessions he says, ‘I realize that I did not altogether lead a life as perfect as other believers’. Patrick knew that he had been a continued to be a mixture of wheat and weed, like the field in the parable of today’s gospel reading. In that parable the owner of the field does not despise the field because weed was to be found among the wheat. He was happy to allow both to grow together knowing that they would be separated at harvest time. When the Lord looks upon us, he looks beyond our failings to the good that is within us. Patrick did not allow his awareness of his imperfections to hold him back from doing what he knew God was calling him to do.

 On his feast day we give thanks for Patrick’s response to God’s call to preach the gospel in the land of his former captivity. He was brought here as a slave at the age of 16, having been cruelly separated from his family and his homeland, a truly traumatic experience for a young adolescent. Yet, out of this difficult experience came great good. Although Patrick had been baptized a Christian in his youth, he had developed no relationship with Christ. The faith into which he had been baptized had made no impact on his life. It was only in his captivity that Christ became real for him. He tells us: ‘When I came to Ireland… I used to pray many times during the day... My faith increased… the spirit was burning within me’. Patrick uses a striking image to express this transformation in his life: ‘Before I was humbled I was like a stone lying in the deep mud. Then he who is mighty came and in his mercy he... lifted me up and placed me at the very top of the wall’. This spiritual awakening in captivity had enormous consequences for himself and for the people of the land where he was held captive.

 In the course of our lives we can find ourselves in unfamiliar and threatening territory, unsure of our future and with regrets about the past. Patrick’s story reminds us that when we find ourselves in such wilderness places, our brokenness can provide the openings for the Lord to enter our lives. Patrick says in his confessions: ‘I cannot be silent… about the great benefits and graces that the Lord saw fit to confer on me in the land of my captivity’. When we are brought low, the Lord will be there to lift us up, and he will be as generous with us as he was with Patrick. If we seek the Lord in such times, as Patrick did, the Lord will not only grace us but he will grace many others through us.

 After six years as a captive Patrick was given the opportunity to escape from his captivity. He was directed to a boat some distance from where he was minding sheep. The captain reluctantly took him on board. Three days sailing was followed by twenty eight days journeying through deserted country, probably Gaul. At the end of that journey Patrick describes a very dark spiritual experience that he had, ‘when I was asleep Satan tempted me with a violence which I will remember as long as I am in this body. There fell on me as it were a great rock and I could not stir a limb’. However, he goes on to say that when he cried out in prayer he saw the sun rising in the sky; he says, ‘the brilliance of that sun fell suddenly on me and lifted my depression at once’. Reflecting on that experience, he declares, ‘I believe that I was sustained by Christ my Lord and that his Spirit was even then calling out on my behalf’. Although he was a very successful missionary, Patrick struggled with the darker experiences of life. Yet, he knew that the Lord was as present to him in his darkness of spirit as much as in the success of his mission. Patrick’s experience teaches us to be alert to the signs of God’s presence in difficult times as well as in good times, in those times when we are more aware of the darnel in our lives than of the wheat. His story also teaches us that even when all is not as well with us as we might like, the Lord continues to work powerfully within us and through us.

And/Or

(vii) Feast of Saint Patrick

 The Confessions of Saint Patrick is one of two written works that have come down from him. They are very far removed from us in time, Patrick having written them towards the end of his mission in Ireland sometime in the mid to late fifth century. Yet, it is a very personal document, a personal statement of faith, and, it can continue to speak to us today, almost one thousand six hundred years later.

 He speaks in that document of his two periods of time in Ireland, the first during which he was a slave of a slave owner, and the second when he was a slave of the Lord, faithfully doing the Lord’s work as a bishop. Patrick’s father was a deacon of the church and his grandfather was a pries; they were reasonably well off. He said in his Confessions that at the time of his captivity by pirates at the age of sixteen he was ‘ignorant of the true God’’ and had abandoned God’s commandments. It was while he was in captivity in Ireland, in an alien land, that the Lord touched his heart. As a result, he came to see his time in captivity as a blessing. He uses a striking image to express his spiritual awakening during his time of exile, ‘I was like a stone lying in the deepest mire; and, then, he who is mighty came and, in his mercy, raised me up’. He spells out in some detail how this spiritual awakening transformed him, ‘I prayed frequently each day, and more and more the love of God and the fear of him grew in me, and my faith was increased and my spirit enlivened... come rain, hail or snow, I was up before dawn to pray... I now understand this: at that time the Spirit was fervent in me’. In his Confessions he is giving thanks to God for this reawakening of faith that occurred in him. He declares, ‘I must not hide that gift of God which he gave me bountifully in the land of my captivity, for it was then that I fiercely sought him and there found him’. The God to whom Patrick had been so indifferent in the comfort of his own home, he became passionate about when he was torn away from all he knew and loved. Perhaps this experience of Patrick might resonate with us. It can be the darker experiences of life that open us up to the Lord more fully. When what we treasure is taken from us we can become more sensitive to the Lord’s presence in our lives.

 After six years in captivity he ran away from his master and after a journey of two hundred miles he boarded a ship which sailed to Gaul. He finally made his way back to his family in Britain. He writes that his parents ‘welcomed me home as a son. They begged me in good faith after all my adversities to go nowhere else, nor ever leave them again’. Patrick must have presumed that he was home among his own for good. Yet, he then had this powerful spiritual experience which sent him back to the very people who had taken him captive. He had a vision in which a man called Victorinus came to him with innumerable letters and as he read one Patrick said that he thought the heard the voice of those who live around the wood of Foclut which is close to the Western Sea shouting with one voice, ‘O holy boy, we beg you to come again and walk among us’. He was ordained priest and then appointed bishop and travelled back to Ireland to begin his mission. Looking back over his mission towards the end of his life, he was very aware that his second coming to Ireland was no more his own decision that his first coming. He says at the end of his Confessions, ‘It is not I but Christ the Lord who has ordered me to come here and be with these people for the rest of my life’. He had a very successful mission in Ireland but, clearly, it cost him a great deal. He writes that ‘not a day passes but I expect to be killed or waylaid or taken into slavery or assaulted in some other way’. Patrick’s sense of being called to this work, even though he knew in advance it would cost him so much, is very striking. He encourages us all to be open to the Lord’s call in our own lives. ‘What is the Lord asking of me?’ is a question worth pondering. Sometimes, as in the case of Patrick, he may be asking us to do something that, from a merely human point of view, doesn’t make a lot of sense. To become aware of what the Lord may be asking of us, we need to give ourselves time and space so as to listen to him.

And/Or

(ix) Feast of Saint Patrick

We are very fortunate that the story of Patrick has been preserved in two short Latin letters which he himself wrote in his old age, a letter to the soldiers of Coroticus, the leader of a tribe in Wales, and his own Confessions. In these invaluable documents, Patrick describes himself as a Briton of the Roman nobility who was kidnapped from his family villa by pirates and taken to Ireland when he was about sixteen. His grandfather had been a priest and his father a deacon, so Patrick was raised in a Christian home. However by the time of his capture at the age of sixteen, he had lost his childhood faith and had become an unbeliever. He writes, ‘I was only a young man, almost a speechless boy, when I was captured, before I knew what I ought to seek out or avoid’.

 Nevertheless, several years of brutal slavery in Ireland turned him into a fervent believer. During that traumatic period of exile and slavery he had a spiritual awakening. His time of exile was a spiritual watershed in his life. Looking back on his life before this conversion moment, he says that he was ‘like a stone stuck deep in the mud’. Continuing with that image, he speaks of his spiritual awakening as a time when the Lord ‘in his mercy lifted me up and raised me on high, placing me on top of a wall’. In this Jubilee Year of Mercy, it is interesting that Patrick speaks of this turning point in his life as an experience of the Lord’s mercy. He had a strong sense that it was the Lord rather he himself who brought out this change in him. He writes, ‘I must not conceal the gift of God that he has given me in the land of my captivity’. He found in himself a great need to pray, ‘In a single day I would pray a hundred times and the same at night, even when I was in the woods on the mountain’.

 This spiritual awakening had enormous consequences not just for Patrick but for so many others in the land of his captivity. After several years of brutal slavery in Ireland, he heard the voice of God telling him to flee back to Britain. Against all the odds, he managed to escape to Britain and eventually made his way back to his family. However, after some time he heard the voice of God again calling him to return to the land of his captivity to proclaim the gospel to the very people who had enslaved him. He did not set out on this mission immediately but trained for the priesthood, possibly in Auxerre in Gaul. He was quickly appointed bishop and sent on his mission to Ireland. The sense we get from his writings is that he gave himself wholeheartedly to sharing the gift of faith he had rediscovered with those who had never heard of Christ. He writes in his Confessions, ‘I spent myself for you all... I travelled among you everywhere risking many dangers for your sake even to the farthest places beyond which no one lived. No one had ever gone that far to baptize or ordain clergy or serve the people’.

 I always try to reread the two writings of Patrick that have come down to us as we approach his feast day. Every year something new in them strikes. The gospel reading for the feast of Saint Patrick this particular year made me more sensitive to one feature in particular of Patrick’s writings. In the gospel reading Peter has an overwhelming sense of his own unworthiness, ‘Depart from me, Lord; I am a sinful man’. Simon Peter seems to have had a realistic sense of his own past and present failings. Yet, this did not deter the Lord from calling him, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on it is people you will catch’. Patrick also had a very strong sense of his own limitations and of his failings. He begins his letter to the soldiers of Coroticus with the sentence, ‘I am Patrick, a sinner and a very ignorant man’. He begins his Confessions in a similar way, ‘I am Patrick, a sinner and a very unsophisticated man. I am the least of all the faithful, and to many the most despised’. At one point in his Confessions he shares an experience of temptation, using a striking image: ‘While I was sleeping that very night, Satan greatly tempted me. I will remember the experience as long as I am in this body. Something like a huge rock seemed to fall on me so that I couldn’t move my arms or legs’. S little further on he writes, ‘He is strong who tries daily to turn me away from my faith and the pure chastity that I have chosen to embrace to the end of my life for Christ the Lord. But the hostile flesh always drags me toward death, to those enticing, forbidden desires’. He is very honest about his personal struggles to remain faithful to the Lord’s call. There is a great realism about his writing. Yet, those struggles did not discourage him. They brought home to him his total dependence on the Lord. He ends his confessions with the acknowledgement that ‘any small thing I accomplished or did that was pleasing to God was done through his gift’.

 Patrick, like Peter in the gospel reading, is an encouragement to us all. He reminds us that the Lord does not ask us to be perfect before calling us to share in his work. He can work powerfully through us, weak as we are, if, like Patrick, we have a generosity of spirit and a recognition of our dependence on the Lord for everything.

And/Or

(x) Feast of Saint Patrick

Today we celebrate the feast of the missionary who was the first to preach the gospel in large parts of this Island. Two of his writings have survived. It is nothing short of a miracle that these two texts have come down to us through the turmoil of history. They allow us to hear in our own time the voice of Patrick. We must be grateful to Patrick for sharing something of his story with us and to the scribes who made copies of the texts down through the centuries.

There is great humility in these two texts. Patrick recognizes his imperfections. He says in his confession, ‘I am imperfect in many ways’. Looking back on his youth he writes that ‘We had turned away from God and had not kept the commandments’. He goes on to declare, ‘I did not believe in the living God… I remained in death and unbelief’. It was the experience of captivity that opened him up to God. He says that in the land of his captivity, he was ‘seized by an awareness of God’s presence’. Patrick seems to have come from a very privileged background. When all that was taken from him, he became sensitive to God’s presence. He expresses this religious awakening in a very striking image, ‘Before my humiliation, I was like a stone lying deep in mire; and the Mighty One came and in his mercy… raised me up and placed me on top of a wall’. Having been living in a kind of spiritual death, he was now raised to a new life in God. His spiritual awakening was an experience of God as Love. He writes in his Confessions that ‘the love of God surrounded me more and more and my faith and reverence towards God was strengthened and my spirit was moved so much that in a single day I would pray as many as a hundred times’. He was so deeply touched by God’s love for him that he had a deep desire to communicate with God in prayer.

Yet it is clear from his writings that this period of rejoicing in God’s love did not stay with him every day ever after. He is very open about the times when his faith was put to the test. Sometime after he escaped from captivity and before he arrived at his home, he endured a great assault on his relationship with God. He speaks of this experience in very vivid imagery, ‘While I was sleeping, Satan assailed me violently, which I will remember as long as I am in this body. He came down upon me like a huge rock, so that none of my limbs could move’. He goes on to say that when he saw the sun rise he cried out with all his strength and he declares, ‘the splendour of the sun fell upon me suddenly and immediately freed me from all the weight of oppression. I believe that I had been helped by Christ my Lord’. Elsewhere he writes, ‘there is a strong force which strives every day to subvert me from the faith’. He knew the darker side of faith and, also, the presence of Christ as light in the midst of the darkness.

Sometime after returning home from captivity, Patrick heard the voice of the Irish calling to him to leave his home once more and return among them as a free man, as a messenger of the Lord. ‘We beg you, O Holy youth, to come and walk once more among us’. His subsequent mission among the Irish bore great fruit. Yet, it is evident from his writings that he suffered a great deal in the exercise of that mission. One of the most painful experiences was when some senior members of the church tried to undermine his ministry when some sin of his youth was brought to their attention. He writes that ‘on that day I was hit so hard I could have fallen here and forever’. Yet, he managed to keep going because, as he writes, ‘the Lord… boldly came to my assistance in this trampling, as a result of which I did not fall apart badly even though shame and blame fell upon me’

His accusers were made aware of some weed from his past, in the language of the gospel reading, and, on that basis they were prepared to undermine all the good he was doing. Patrick was very aware that he was a mixture of wheat and darnel and, yet, he also knew that the Lord loved him and was working powerfully through him, flawed though he was. One of the messages Jesus is giving us in that parable is that the attempt to root out evil may destroy the good as well. There is a mixture of good and evil, of virtue and sin, in each one of us and in the church as a whole. Patrick’s story teaches us that the existence of evil is not a cause for disillusionment. If we acknowledge it and open ourselves to the Lord’s love in our weakness, he can strengthen what is good in us and empower us to be his messengers in the world.

And/Or

(xi) Feast of Saint Patrick

 Saint Patrick lived at a time and place very different to our own. He was born at the end of the fourth century on the embattled edge of the crumbling Roman Empire, probably somewhere in Britain. This was a time when the Roman legions had been withdrawn from the edges of the Empire, and there was a general breakdown in Roman law and order. The way Patrick speaks of his family in his Confessions suggests that there were from the rural gentry. His father was a deacon of the church and his grandfather a priest. Yet, their reasonably well to do background did not prevent them from suffering the effects of the general breakdown of order in Roman society. The protection of Rome was not there to prevent Patrick being captured at the tender age of sixteen. He spent six years as a slave in Ireland, escaping only at the age of twenty-two. Ireland, at the time, was a very different society to anywhere in the Roman Empire, even the edges of the Empire where Patrick was from. He often refers to himself as living among strangers. Coming to Ireland at that tender age must have been a huge culture shock, apart altogether from the hardships of slavery.

 Yet, he subsequently came to see these six years as a time of great grace. He refers to ‘the many great blessings and grace which the Lord chooses to give me in the land of my captivity’. When he was taken captive, he said, ‘I did not yet know what I ought to desire and what to avoid’. Although born into a Christian family, he had never taken his faith seriously. He uses a striking image to describe his life at the time he was taken captive, ‘I was like a stone lying in the deepest mire’. Yet, in exile as a slave in Ireland, he underwent what can only be called a profound spiritual transformation. He writes, ‘I must not hide the gift of God which he gave us bountifully in the land of my captivity, because it was then that I fiercely sought him and there found him’. He writes at one point in his confessions, ‘When I had arrived in Ireland and was looking after flocks the whole time, I prayed frequently each day. And more and more, the love of God and the fear of him grew in me, and my faith was increased’. This spiritual renewal would form the basis of his extraordinary missionary work in Ireland many years later. This was a time of great loss in Patrick’s life, but also a time of deep spiritual and personal growth. It is often the way in our own lives that the most painful experiences can also be the most life-giving, for ourselves and for others. Patrick discovered that when so much was taken from him, the Lord worked powerfully in his life. The Lord is always at work in a life-giving way in all our struggles and losses. At any stage of our lives, we can find ourselves in a kind of exile experience. Our personal landscape changes and we feel estranged, lonely, frightened. We are not alone at such times. The Lord is at our side. He is always close to the broken hearted, those whose spirit is crushed, working to bringing something new out of what is dying.

 After six years of captivity, Patrick made his escape and managed to board a boat. After a long and perilous journey, he finally made it back to his home. He writes, ‘I was again with my parents in Britain who welcomed me home as a son. They begged me in good faith after all my adversities to go nowhere else, or ever leave them again’. It is likely that Patrick believed he would never leave them again. However, God works in mysterious ways. Patrick writes in his Confessions that after many long years ‘God chose to give me a great grace towards that people (who had held me captive), but this was something I had never thought of, nor hoped for, in my youth’. He had a vision in which he heard the voice of the Irish call out to him, ‘O holy boy, we beg you to come again and walk among us’. After studying for the priesthood, he was eventually sent on mission to Ireland as a bishop. In the course of that difficult mission, he says that he often felt the urge to go back to his homeland, but he resisted it because, as he writes, ‘I fear the loss of the work I have begun here, since it is not I but Christ the Lord who ordered me to come here and be with these people for the rest of my life’. If his first visit to Ireland was as a young slave, this second visit was in response to the Lord’s call; he came as a slave of the gospel. As he says right at the end of his Confessions, ‘the one and only purpose I had in coming back to that people from whom I had earlier escaped was the gospel and the promises of God’. This second visit of Patrick to Ireland with all its momentous consequences brings home to us the unexpected nature of God’s call to all of us. God’s call can surprise us. God can be prompting us to take a path we might never have considered if left to ourselves. God’s purpose for our lives can be so much greater than our own plans. Patrick teaches us to hold ourselves in readiness for the Lord’s surprising call in our lives.

And/Or

(xii) Feast of Saint Patrick

 We are very fortunate that the story of Patrick has been preserved in two short Latin letters which he himself wrote in his old age, a letter to the soldiers of Coroticus, the leader of a tribe in Britain, and what has come to be called, ‘St Patrick’s Confession’. In these invaluable historical documents, Patrick gives us a lot of information about himself. He came from a well to do family, the rural gentry, who lived somewhere in Britain or in what is now Britany. He was kidnapped from his family villa by pirates and taken to Ireland when he was only sixteen years of age. His grandfather had been a priest and his father a deacon, so Patrick was raised in a Christian home. However by the time of his capture, his faith was lukewarm.

 During several years of harsh slavery in Ireland, when he was struggling with the loss of so much that was dear to him, he had a spiritual awakening. He began to experience a strong desire to pray, ‘In a single day I would pray a hundred times and the same at night, even when I was in the woods on the mountain’. His time of exile was a watershed in his life. Looking back on his life before his faith was rekindled, he says that he was ‘like a stone stuck deep in the mud’. Continuing with that image, he speaks of his spiritual awakening as a time when the Lord ‘in his mercy lifted me up and raised me on high, placing me on top of a wall’. Patrick speaks of this turning point in his life as an experience of the Lord’s mercy. He had a strong sense that this reawakening of his faith was the Lord’s doing. He writes, ‘I must not conceal the gift of God that he has given me in the land of my captivity’. Whenever, in our own lives, we experience some devastating loss, and we find ourselves in a dark place, we too can find, as Patrick did, that the risen Lord comes to us in that dark place and touches us deeply.

 Patrick’s spiritual reawakening had enormous consequences for the people in the land of his captivity. After several years of slavery in Ireland, he heard the voice of God telling him to flee back to his home. Against all the odds, he managed to escape and make his way back to his family. However, after many years, he heard the voice of God again calling him to return to the land of his captivity, this time to proclaim the gospel to the very people who once enslaved him. After studying for the priesthood, he was eventually sent back to Ireland on mission as a bishop. He gave himself wholeheartedly to proclaiming Christ to those who had never heard of him. He writes in his Confessions, ‘I spent myself for you all... I travelled among you everywhere risking many dangers for your sake even to the farthest places beyond which no one lived. No one had ever gone that far to baptize or ordain clergy or serve the people’. He engaged in this mission at great personal cost to himself, as he wrote in his letter to Coroticus, ‘I sacrificed my homeland and parents and I offer my life to the moment of death’.

 Every year, as I reread the two writings of Patrick, I am struck by something new in them. The gospel reading for the feast of Saint Patrick this year made me more sensitive to one feature in particular in Patrick’s writings. In the gospel reading Peter has an overwhelming sense of his own unworthiness, ‘Depart from me, Lord; I am a sinful man’. Yet, this did not deter the Lord from calling him to share in his work, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on it is people you will catch’. Patrick also had a very strong sense of his own limitations and of his failings. He begins his Confession, ‘I am Patrick, a sinner… I am the least of all the faithful, and to many the most despised’. At one point in this text he shares an experience of temptation, using a striking image: ‘While I was sleeping that very night, Satan greatly tempted me. I will remember the experience as long as I am in this body. Something like a huge rock seemed to fall on me so that I couldn’t move my arms or legs’. A little further on he writes, ‘He is strong who tries daily to turn me away from my faith and the purity of true religion that I have chosen to embrace to the end of my life for Christ the Lord’. He is honest about his personal struggles to remain faithful to the Lord’s call. Yet, those struggles did not discourage him. They brought home to him his total dependence on the Lord. He ends his Confession acknowledging that ‘any small thing I accomplished or did that was pleasing to God was done through his gift’.

 Patrick, like Peter in the gospel reading, is an encouragement to us all. He reminds us that the Lord does not ask us to be perfect before calling us to share in his work of leading others to God. The Lord can work powerfully through us, weak as we are, if, like Patrick, we have a generosity of spirit when it comes to witnessing to our faith and if we recognize our dependence on the Lord for everything.

And/Or

(xiii) Feast of Saint Patrick’s Day

Coming up to the feast of Saint Patrick, I always re-read the two documents that have come down to us from him, his Confession and his letter to the soldiers of Coroticus. His Confession in particular is a very personal document. He says he writes it because he wants people ‘to know what kind of man I am’. He says that he is writing it in his ‘old age’. Not long before he wrote his Confession, the people in Britain who had been sponsoring his mission in Ireland had made serious accusations against him, which proved to be false. They were taking away his good name. This situation brought on a personal crisis of faith which nearly destroyed him. His Confession was a response to this very hurtful attack on himself and his mission. He needed to show that the way he was being portrayed was not the kind of man he actually was. He says that because of the accusation made against him, he felt shame and disgrace and ‘the impulse was overpowering to fall way not only here and now but forever’. In that dark moment, he turned to the Lord on whom he had always relied, and the Lord did not let him down. He says, ‘the Lord graciously spared his exile and wanderer for his own name’s sake and helped me greatly when I was being walked on in this way’. Patrick had a strong sense of the Lord speaking personally to him through images, dreams, visions. He mentions how the night after this accusation by his seniors in Britain, he saw before his face a writing that dishonoured him, and simultaneously, he says, ‘I heard God’s voice saying to me: “We have seen with disapproval the face of the chosen one deprived of his good name”’. In the Confessions, there is a strong note of thanksgiving to God i for standing by him during this difficult time, ‘I give thanks to my God tirelessly who kept me faithful in the day of trial’. Patrick reminds us that the Lord is standing by us all in our time of trial now.

As he looks back on his life journey, he tells us that he is the freeborn son of a Roman nobleman, a town Councillor, who was also a deacon of the church. He had a privileged upbringing, but he acknowledges that in his younger years, his faith was at best dormant, ‘we had turned away from God’. Then at the age of sixteen everything changed. As he puts it, ‘I was taken into captivity in Ireland with many thousands of people’. Without warning, he lost his family and friends, his community, his freedom of movement, his schooling. In his utter misery as a slave, he found himself becoming aware of God’s presence. He had a spiritual awakening. He speaks of ‘the great benefits and grace that the Lord saw fit to confer on me in the land of my captivity’. Even though this was a traumatic time of suffering and loneliness, he repeatedly speaks of the ‘wonderful gifts’ that the Lord gave him. He refers to ‘the great and beneficial gift of knowing and loving God’. He says, ‘the Lord indeed gave much to me, his little servant, more than as a young man I ever hoped for or even considered’. Among the many gifts the Lord gave him at this time, he says, was the gift of prayer, ‘the spirit was stirred up so that in the course of a single day I would say as many as a hundred prayers, and almost as many in the night. This I did even when I was staying in the woods and on the mountain’. As the years of captivity passed, his prayer grew in intensity. He learned to listen carefully to the promptings of the Spirit within, giving him the guidance he needed to make important decisions. He learned to discern when the time of his captivity was coming to an end and that his ship was ready. He eventually escaped his captivity and made his way home to his family in Britain. The Lord worked powerfully in Patrick’s dark experience of captivity, and we need to be open to the ways the Lord may be working among in this dark for our nation and our world.

When Patrick arrived home, he tells us that his relatives ‘welcomed me as a son and earnestly begged me that I should never leave them, especially in view of all the hardships I had endured’. Yet, such was his openness to God’s presence and his attentiveness to the Spirit’s promptings that he became convinced he was being called back to Ireland to proclaim the faith which was now central to his life. One night he had a vision of a man called Victor who appeared to have come from Ireland with an unlimited number of letters. As he read one of them, he heard the voice, ‘We ask you, holy boy, come and walk once more among us’. Probably against his family’s wishes, he went abroad to study for the priesthood, most likely to Gaul, in preparation for his mission to the Irish. It is clear from his Confession that his subsequent mission in Ireland bore rich fruit. He wasn’t the first missionary to bring the gospel to Ireland. Earlier in the fifth century, the Bishop Palladius had founded communities of faith. However, Patrick brought the gospel to parts of the island that had never heard it, ‘in places’, he says, ‘beyond which nobody lives’. The impact of his mission was hugely significant. He speaks in his Confession of the many thousands whom he baptized in the Lord. He expresses his indebtedness to God who ‘gave me so much grace that through me people should be born again in God and afterwards confirmed, and that clergy should be ordained for them everywhere’.

We have come to share the faith that Patrick preached on our island fifteen centuries ago. We might be tempted to think that our faith is somewhat dormant, as Patrick’s was as a young man. We may be aware of what Jesus in today’s parable calls ‘darnel’ in our own personal lives, and in the life of the church as a whole. Yet, Patrick’s story reminds us that the Lord never abandons us or his church. No matter where we are in our faith journey, the Lord can break through to us in a wonderfully new way, if we give him the space to do so. Sometimes, as Patrick’s life shows us, it is often in times of great adversity that the space is created in our lives for the Lord to work powerfully within us and through us. We could all make our own Patrick’s prayer wish towards the end of his Confession, ‘I ask God for perseverance, to grant that I remain a faithful witness to him for his own sake until my passing from this life’.

And/Or

(xiv) Feast of Saint Patrick

 Some time ago I climbed Croagh Patrick for the first time in the company of my sister, Catherine, and brother-in-law, Patrick, who died a few years ago on the feast of Saint Joseph. They both lived in Southern California. Patrick, who was from the United States, was determined to climb Croagh Patrick. He was recovering from cancer at the time, and, in spite of a very bad back, he wanted to make this climb in thanksgiving for having come through his surgery and treatment so well, and, also, as a form of prayer of petition for God’s ongoing help. We managed to get to the top, just about. The Croagh Patrick climb is one expression of the cult of St. Patrick that has continued down to our time. We venerate Patrick today because he spent himself in proclaiming the gospel on this island, bringing Christ to huge numbers of people.

 It is evident from his two writings that have come down to us that Patrick came from a reasonably privileged background. His father was a town counsellor who had a comfortable house with many servants. Patrick says that he was born free, of noble rank. Then suddenly, his personal and communal landscape radically changed. At the age of sixteen, he was taken captive with others and brought to Ireland. As he says, he found himself among strangers. Gone were his comfortable home, his loving family, his freedom. He was now a slave, with no rights or protection. He was lost, without friend or future. It is hard to imagine the impact of such a traumatic experience on one so young. Yet, as he wrote his Confession in his old age, he recognizes the great gifts that came to him during this painful and lonely time of exile. Although his grandfather was a priest, and Patrick had been baptized, he acknowledges that as an adolescent he ‘did not know the true God’. He said he had turned away from God. However, in exile, while herding sheep in all kinds of weathers he had the most extra-ordinary spiritual awakening. Looking back, he speaks of the ‘great benefits and graces the Lord saw fit to confer on me in my captivity’. He speaks of the Lord’s ‘wonderful gifts, gifts for the present and for eternity, which the human mind cannot measure’. He goes on to say, ‘my faith increased and the spirit was stirred up so that in the course of a single day I could say as many as a hundred prayers, and almost as many in the night’.

 Many years later, he finally broke free of his captivity and made his way home to his family. Having been profoundly touched by God in the years since he left his family, he was now sensitive to the presence and the call of God in his life. Some years after returning home, he heard the Lord’s call to return to the land of his former captivity to preach the gospel. He trained for the priesthood and arrived back in Ireland, this time as a free man, or, perhaps more accurately, as the Lord’s slave or servant. He speaks of himself now as a ‘stranger and exile for the love of God’. He writes of ‘the people to whom the love of God brought me’. His mission in Ireland was fraught with dangers and difficulties of all sorts, including at times opposition from leading members of the church in Britain who had authorized his mission to Ireland. Yet, his two writings are full of a strong sense of God’s protective and guiding presence in his life. He was very aware of all the Lord was doing through him, in spite of setbacks. He writes, ‘I am very much in debt to God, who gave me so much grace that through me people should be born again in God and afterwards confirmed’. He asks, ‘What return can I make to God for all his goodness to me? What can I say or what can I promise to my Lord since any ability I have comes from him?’ Writing towards the end of his life, Patrick could see the many ways the Lord had worked powerfully through his painful experience of exile as an adolescent. Because of that traumatic experience of loss, the gospel was brought to what Patrick calls ‘the most remote districts beyond which nobody lives and where nobody had ever come to baptize, to ordain clergy or to confirm the people’.

 Patrick’s life teaches us to be attentive to the ways that the Lord may be surprisingly present in situations of great struggle that seem devoid of any value at the time. Whereas it is never the Lord’s desire that misfortune should befall us, when it does come our way, he is always there with us, working among for our good and the good of others. Perhaps our very vulnerability at such times can make us more attentive to what the Lord may want to say to us. Patrick’s experience of exile made him alert to the Lord’s call at different moments of his life. Our own experiences of exile and loss, whatever form they may take, can help to make us more alert to the Lord’s loving purpose for our lives.

------------------------------------------------

Friday, Third Week of Lent

Gospel (Except USA)

Mark 12:28-34

'You are not far from the kingdom of God'.

One of the scribes came up to Jesus and put a question to him, ‘Which is the first of all the commandments?’ Jesus replied, ‘This is the first: Listen, Israel, the Lord our God is the one Lord, and you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: You must love your neighbour as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.’ The scribe said to him, ‘Well spoken, Master; what you have said is true: that he is one and there is no other. To love him with all your heart, with all your understanding and strength, and to love your neighbour as yourself, this is far more important than any holocaust or sacrifice.’ Jesus, seeing how wisely he had spoken, said, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God.’ And after that no one dared to question him any more.

Gospel (USA)

Mark 12:28-34

The Lord our God is one Lord, and you shall love the Lord your God.

One of the scribes came to Jesus and asked him, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus replied, “The first is this: Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.” The scribe said to him, “Well said, teacher. You are right in saying, He is One and there is no other than he. And to love him with all your heart, with all your understanding, with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.” And when Jesus saw that he answered with understanding, he said to him, “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.” And no one dared to ask him any more questions.

Reflections (10)

(i) Friday, Third Week of Lent

When the scribe asked Jesus which was the first of all the commandments, Jesus replied by giving him not just the first but the second as well. It seems that, for Jesus, these two commandments were intrinsically linked. In quoting those two commandments, Jesus speaks of three loves, the love of God, the love of neighbour and the love of self. He connects these three loves very closely together; he suggests that they are all of a piece. Yet, he clearly declares that the first love in our lives is to be the love of God. Jesus is saying that the most important relationship in our lives to get right is our relationship with God. That relationship is right if it is a relationship of love. God is to be loved not to be feared, and God is to be loved with all our being. Our love of God is always a response to God’s love of us. This is the love that is spoken about in this morning’s first reading, ‘I will love them with all my heart’. Knowing that God loves us with all God’s heart enables us to love God with all our heart. It is our loving relationship with God that will make it possible for us to recognize God in ourselves and in others, and to love ourselves and others as God’s good creation, as images of God.

 And/Or

(ii) Friday, Third Week of Lent

In the time of Jesus it was understood that there were 613 regulations in the Jewish Law. The scribe is looking to Jesus to pick out the one commandment that underpins all the others. He wanted Jesus to help him to get to the heart of this maze of regulations. Jesus gave him what he was looking for; indeed, he gave him more. He not only gave him the most important commandment; he gave him the second most important commandment as well. Jesus could not give him one without giving him the other, because, for Jesus, there was inseparable. Yet, even though they were inseparable, they were not equal; one was first and the other was second. Even though we cannot love God without loving our neighbour, the love of God is more fundamental than the love of neighbour. Only God is worthy of all our heart, all our soul, all our mind, and all our strength. God is worthy of our all, because it is only God who gives us all. As Paul says in his letter to the Romans, ‘God who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else?’ Our calling here and now, and our ultimate destiny, is to love God as God loves us.

 And/Or

(iii) Friday, Third Week of Lent

Generally in the gospels the scribes of the Law and Jesus are portrayed as in conflict with one another. In this morning’s gospel, however, Jesus and a Jewish scribe are very much of the same mind. Jesus says to this particular scribe, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God’. Both are agreed on what are the two great commandments of the Law. What these two commandments have in common is the call to love; where they differ is in the object of that love. The first commandment calls us to love God and the second to love our neighbour. The priority is given to God. The two commandments also differ in the intensity of the love they command. It is only God who is to be loved with all our heart, all our soul, all our mind and all our strength. It is only God who is deserving of the love of all our being. To love God in this way is to be caught up in God’s love for humanity and that is where the second commandment comes in. Love of neighbour is where the pure and total love of God invariably leads us.

 And/Or

(iv) Friday, Third Week of Lent

We all struggle to try and get our priorities right. We need to be able to sift out what is more important from what is less important. This is perhaps all the more needed today when so much comes at us from so many different directions. Today’s gospel reading is the story of a scribe who wanted to get his priorities right. He came to Jesus to know which of all the more than 600 commandments of the Jewish Law was the most important one. In reply, Jesus gave him more than he asked for, not just the first of all the commandments but the first and the second of the commandments. Jesus seemed to be saying that these two commandments were inseparable. What they have in common is the commandment to love; what distinguishes them is the object of that love, God in the case of the first commandment and neighbour in the case of the second. Also the quality of the love differs, God is to be loved with all our heart, soul, mind and strength; the neighbour is to be loved as ourselves. God alone is worthy of the total love of our being, but such love must flow over into the love of our neighbour. The journey in love to God leads us to the other; in loving God we are caught up in God’s love for others. Today, at least in our western culture, it is the first commandment rather than the second that is more liable to be neglected. Yet Jesus implies that our relationship with God is at the heart of all other relationships.

And/Or

 (v) Friday, Third Week of Lent

In this morning’s gospel reading, a scribe, an expert in the Jewish Law, asks Jesus the question, ‘Which is the first of all the commandments?’ Given that it was understood that there were 613 commandments, this question was a sincere effort on the part of the scribe to get to the core of the Jewish Law, to separate out what really mattered from what is less important. The word that stands out in Jesus’ answer is ‘love’ and, in the first instance, the love of God. Jesus declares that God deserves a unique kind of love, a love that flows from the whole person, a love with all our heart, the seat of the will, with all our soul, the seat of desire, with all our mind, the seat of understanding, and with all our strength, understood as spiritual strength. Jesus goes on to give the scribe something he didn’t ask for, the second greatest commandment, which is to love our neighbour as ourselves. Although the love of God has priority, it flows over into love of neighbour. To draw near to God in love is to be caught up into God’s love for humanity. It has been said that we become what we love. To love God with all our being is to become God-like, to become loving in the way that God is loving.

And/Or

 (vi) Friday, Third week of Lent

This morning’s gospel reading is a friendly conversation between Jesus and a representative of a group who are normally hostile to Jesus, the scribes. This scribe asks Jesus to name the first and most important of all the commandments and there were over 600 of them. We all need to be able to prioritize, to separate out what is most important from what is less important. In answering the scribe’s question, Jesus gives him more than he asked for. Jesus not only gives him what he considers to be the first commandment, to love God with all of one’s being, but he gives the scribe what he regards as the second commandment as well, to love our neighbour as ourselves. Jesus seems to be saying that there are two commandments that stand out from all the rest, and they belong together, and within those two, priority must be given to one. He declares that the love of God and the love of neighbour are inseparable, but he doesn’t reduce the love of God to the love of neighbour. God is to be loved directly with all our faculties, heart, soul, mind and strength. Such love of God will certainly show itself in prayer and worship. Jesus also states that if this love of God is genuine it will overflow into loving our neighbour, recognizing in the neighbour the presence of Jesus and of the One who sent him. Although Jesus doesn’t explicitly say so here, this love of God which overflows into love of neighbour is a response to God’s unconditional love of us, expressed in God’s giving of his Son to us so that we may have life and have it to the full.

 And/Or

(vii) Friday, Third Week of Lent

In this morning’s first reading from the prophet Hosea, God says to the people of Israel, ‘I will love you with all my heart’, even though they had repeatedly turned away from God. In the gospel reading Jesus declares that the greatest commandment of the law is to love God with all our heart. Our love of God is always in response to God’s love for us. As Saint John reminds us in his letter, ‘We love because God first loved us’. The first love is God’s love for us. The second love is our love for God, which, as Jesus declares in the gospel reading, is inseparable from our love of our neighbour, understood as our fellow human being. Jesus brings together these two commandments of love of God and love of our neighbour which were found in different parts of the Bible. Genuine love of God in response to God’s love for us will always catch us up into God’s own love for humanity. The scribe in the gospel reading who recognized the connection between these two commandments was declared by Jesus to be ‘not far from the kingdom of God’. God’s kingdom is always present among us whenever we open ourselves to God’s love for us and respond to that love by loving God in return and loving all whom God loves. This is what we are asking for when we pray, ‘Thy kingdom come’, in the prayer Jesus gave us to pray.

 And/Or

(vii) Friday, Third week of Lent

In the time of Jesus it was understood that there were 613 regulations of the Jewish Law. In that context, the question of the scribe to Jesus in today’s gospel reading is an important one, ‘Which is the first of all the commandments?’ He was asking Jesus what was the cornerstone on which all of the rest of the law rested. In a sense he was asking, ‘What is the core of our Jewish faith?’ He wanted Jesus to help him to get to the heart of the matter. We are all searching for that core. We all want to know what really matters, in our faith, in life. We are aware that we can get hung up on non-essentials and neglect what really matters. The answer Jesus gave to the scribe is valid not just for the Jewish faith but for our own Christian faith. It is God who is central, and the most important commandment is to love God. Jesus does not say to fear God or to obey God but to love God. God’s nature is love and the appropriate way to relate to God is through love. Jesus declares that this is to be a love that embraces all of our being, all our heart, the seat of will and intellect, all our soul, the seat of desire, all our mind, the seat of understanding and all our strength, understood as spiritual strength. This is a unique love which is due to God alone and which will find expression in prayer and worship. In response to the scribes question about the first of all the commandments, Jesus goes on to give what he considers to be the second most important commandment, to love our neighbour as if he or she were an extension of ourselves. An authentic love of God will embrace the neighbour, whoever he or she may be. Jesus implies that if we truly love God we will be caught up into God’s love of all humanity.

 And/Or

(viii) Friday, Third Week of Lent

In today’s gospel reading, a scribe asks Jesus an important question, ‘What is the first of all the commandments?’ He wanted Jesus to help him find the one commandment that really mattered amid the 600 or so commandments in the Jewish Law. We all find ourselves asking at times, ‘What is it that really matters in life?’ ‘What is really worth pursuing?’ Jesus answered the scribes question by giving him the two most important commandments, not just the first but the second as well. What these two commandments have in common is the call to love. The differ in the object of our love and in the totality of our love. In the first commandment it is God who is to be loved; in the second it is the neighbour. It is only God who is to be loved with all our heart, soul, mind and strength. Jesus declares to the scribe that what matters most in the Jewish tradition is love, the love of God with all one’s being, overflowing into a love of those whom God loves, the neighbour. When the scribe agrees with Jesus’ answer, Jesus declares that this scribe is not far from the kingdom of God. Any Jew who lives by these two commandments of love is on the cusp of the kingdom of God that Jesus came to proclaim. Love is at the heart of the Jewish faith and it is at the heart of the gospel that Jesus preached and lived. Love, as Jesus embodied it, is at the heart of our Christian faith today. Pope Francis’ recent apostolic exhortation is entitled, ‘The Joy of Love’. The essence of our faith is love, God’s love for us in Jesus, our love for God in return, overflowing into a love of all whom God loves, all human life.

 And/Or

(ix) Friday, Third Week of Lent

There are times when we all struggle to appreciate what is most important in life. We can find ourselves putting our time and energy into what is not so important. In today’s gospel reading, a Jewish scribe, an expert in the Jewish law, asked Jesus to help him find what was most important in the Jewish Law. What did Jesus think should be given priority in all the more than six hundred commandments that were to be found in the Jewish Law? Jesus’ answer to that question was both simple and profound. God was to be given priority. That is why Jesus began his answer with the basic Jewish creed, ‘the Lord your God is the one Lord’. Then Jesus declared that in the way we relate to God, love is to be given priority, a love that springs from our whole being, our heart, understanding and strength. God and the love of God are to be our priority. However, there is a second priority which Jesus immediately mentions and that is inseparable from the first priority, and that is love of neighbour as if the neighbour were an extension of ourselves. In many ways, that second priority is less contentious today. Even those who have no religious faith can proclaim this priority of love of neighbour. It is the first priority that people may be less convinced about today. We hear much less about love of God than about love of neighbour in most of the settings in which we live and move. Jesus’ answer to the question of the scribe is a challenge to that absence. Jesus reminds us that only God is worthy of our total love, a love that proceeds from all of our being. When we love God with all we are, we will find ourselves caught up into God’s love of humanity. Our love of God will overflow into the love of our neighbour, whoever our neighbour happens to be. The national and global crisis in which we find ourselves, with all its hardship and distress for so many people, might help us to recover what is really important in life, which according to Jesus in our gospel reading is love of God and of our neighbour. A great deal is being taken away from people at this time. Such a time of traumatic and troubling loss can help us to appreciate what is really important in life, which is what the gospel reading puts before us today.

 And/Or

(x) Friday, Third Week of Lent

Today’s first reading is very striking in many ways. The Lord speaking through the prophet Hosea calls on his people to come back to him and if they do the Lord promises them to love them with all his heart. The Lord goes on to say to his people, ‘I am like a cypress ever green, all your fruitfulness comes from me’. Because the Lord alone loves us with all his heart, he alone is the source of true life for us. The Lord calls out to us in love, pleading with us to keep turning to him as the one who can allow our lives to bear rich fruit, the fruit of the Spirit. God’s life-giving love for us is the basis of Jesus’ call to us in the gospel reading to love the Lord all our heart, soul, mind and strength. If we can open ourselves to the Lord’s love for us, then we will be moved to love the Lord in return. God always loves us first and our love for God is a response to this love for us. The good news of God’s faithful, unconditional, love for us is the foundation of what Jesus calls the first commandment, to love the Lord your God with all our being, with a love that is worthy of his love for us. Our loving relationship with God in turn is the foundation of what Jesus calls the second commandment, to love our neighbour as ourselves. The more we open ourselves to God’s love for us and respond to his love by loving him, the more we will be empowered to love others with God’s own love. At the heart of our life as people of faith is love, God’s love for us, our love for him in return and the outpouring of God’s love through us onto others. When love becomes central to our lives in that sense, Jesus will say to us what he said to the scribe in today’s gospel reading, ‘you are not far from the Kingdom of God’.

 Fr. Martin Hogan.

[red-akara]

Today really was just a series of unfortunate events.

I’ve been working on a film project conceived last year in a 2 month long creative “club” of sorts. Where you sign up to creatively explore a theme with others in that time. I produced a trailer that my group was really excited about and set a release date for 1-11-23.

Well, up until that point, I got really in my head about self doubt, fear of external opinion, and like “yeah they loved the trailer, what if I don’t deliver?”. Plus navigating filming around my landlady’s upstairs noise. Plus not being super sure of my concept and how I wanted to portray it.

1-11-23 approached quickly, I lost time to being sick with a cold and I made the decision to delay my project to 2-22-23. I needed time to think. To plan. And figure out what the heck I was gonna do.

It took awhile to land on something I was happy to film. It took awhile to be brave and actually pick up the camera. I was still afraid of external opinion, but I had filmed something. That was last week.

Yesterday I had the day off and planned to use the whole day to edit. My landlady usually doesn’t come back home until the evening, so I figured I’d have the quiet I need. Well I woke up late, even more so in my head about the scale of the project, and not sure how to get started. AND she came back in the middle of the afternoon.

I thought I’ve got the next day off, I’ll go to my local library to ensure silence and post the complete video in the evening.

That did not happen. Here’s what did:

1. Discovered that my local library is closed for renovation until spring of 2024.

2. Went to another library and remembered that my computer requires an SD card adapter…which I didn’t bring.

3. Went home to pick up the SD card adapter and called / researched a bunch of libraries near me to see if they had designated quiet areas. They did not.

4. Figured I’d go to Barnes & Noble cause I sorta knew what to expect from the noise level and it was early afternoon. Minor inconvenience - tried to order a London fog (my favorite drink) as a motivation boost. Clerk told me they don’t have the capability to make steamed drinks at the moment. Cool.

5. All footage took an hour to download, a little longer than I expected. In that time, a couple at a table behind me was having a very animated conversation. And a guy decided to sit pretty much right next to me at the bar style tables. I packed up and left shortly after.

6. Anxious to go home if my landlady would be there to make noise and kill my focus, I spent about an hour procrastinating in Michael’s.

7. Finally went home and she wasn’t there, but I was still shocked that the one place I could rely on for quiet would be closed…for a year.

8. Vented to a friend about it all which felt good. Made dinner and was about to get started on the project.

9. Landlady comes back and has been talking with a guest of hers in the living room above me for an hour or so.

…sigh.

#vent #the joys of being creative #I still wanna complete what I can tonight #don’t know how though

[wouldnt-it-be-hilarious-if-i]

I was re-listening to this song earlier, thinking about the different lyrics that have defined my year this year. I thought back to how this one clearly defined February to early March for me but couldn't for the life of me remember the song. I couldn't find it in my search history either until I very suddenly remembered a rough version of the lyrics and beat.

So, why am I making a post about it?

I started listening to it to see if there were any hidden meanings or messages in it that I hadn't seen before when I first heard the cover of this song. I like doing this because whenever I feel called to study music closer, I always end up finding out something that absolutely shocks me.

This song was no different. I guess I was more focused on the vocals when I heard it because I didn't pay any attention to the actual lyrics because I didn't even realize she was talking about new york!! This would be a hundred times funnier if I could tell you anything about who I was showing this cover to at the time because I was probably the only one unaware of what this song was about lmao

As I was listening to the original song and reading the lyrics that I saw a video with the original singer, Suzanne Vega, talking about the meaning of the song. The video follows her around New York City as she discusses the story behind the lyrics. It took a minute for me to register what city she was in because the captions were in Dutch, so my brain assumed it was the Netherlands or something. But I recognized the areas she was walking through, and then I realized she was saying the entire song was based on an actual restaurant in New York. I've never been to that restaurant a day in my life, but as soon as I saw it, I was so certain that I'd been there. It could also have a small thing to do with the fact that my mom watched Seinfeld religiously when I was a child, but whatever.

Anyway, she also walked past this cathedral, which she mentioned in the song, and I immediately screamed because I was like I've been there! I've seen that cathedral! The above picture was taken one day after I turned thirteen in like August 2012. That same day, I walked to Washington Square Park, and took photos of the arch, and I don't have any idea where exactly this was, but I walked into the coolest costume shop ever and I think I bought a masquerade mask there (which I still have).

I remember seeing a man in a bunny costume just walking (or hopping?) down the street. I also remember seeing two people completely naked and going at it on a cardboard box in an alley in broad daylight, which I still find absolutely hilarious. I also almost got hit by a car (more than likely) on this day. And I don't mean that in a "a new york driver drove really fast past me and I worried I was going to get hit because no one actually seems to follow any pedestrian laws" sense, but more like in the sense that this man actually almost hit me because I was walking alone and I have a phobia of moving cars, so when he was coming at me, I just froze up and he looked freaked tf out too. (this was also why i wasn't allowed to walk around new york by myself, because i struggled to even cross the street unless someone was holding my hand)

It was actually on E 21st street, right next to Gramercy Park. I was on my way back home from the huge Barnes and Noble on 17th street. I had expected to meet my true love that day, instead I nearly met my untimely death!

For a long time, there was no city I wanted to visit less than New York City. My family lives there, and there are so many other reasons that made me not want to ever go again. But regardless of that fact, there's a moment when you first enter the city from out of state, right before the smell of hot, wet garbage absolutely knocks you out, where the air smells sweet and savory and like cinnamon, depending on where you come in at. There's the wonderfully thrilling moment when you enter the Lincoln tunnel at night, and the cars light up the inside of the tunnel and if you don't think about what might be on those walls, you want to reach out and run your hands all over the walls and remember that texture forever. During the day was just as wonderful because the tunnel was so dark, and when you ended up on the other side after a twelve hour road trip, everyone would squeal and cheer with relief because it meant we were finally there.

And maybe I saw two people having sex on a dilapidated cardboard box, and hid all my belongings in my shoes because I was terrified of getting mugged. But I'll never forget the snow. I'll never forget getting pizza with my aunt and it raining on the way home, so the pizza was completely drenched and just salty and gross and soggy but still so good. Maybe 99% of me hates it so much, but 1% of me goes back to a time in my life where I just had to see the Chelsea hotel, and where I walked through Central Park and heard music playing and so much energy around me.

I'll never forget sneaking out of my grandma's apartment and leaving her door cracked open like the little southern dumbass I am and waving at a girl who told me to fuck off in response while I was walking (that definitely pissed me off btw). I'll never forget fainting when I got home because I never drank water and have never been able to handle heat a day in my life. Us southern girls can't go an hour, let alone a whole month without AC. For some god awful reason, when I was growing up, I rarely entered a store that had it. I'm a little convinced on this fact alone that most new yorkers have a penchant for sadism or something because I know I'm not the only one who wants to jump off a building kermit style being in that heat.

It hits me so randomly sometimes and I miss New York so much it hurts. I'll just think, "I should have gone to NYU, I should have never listened to my dad. I should have tried going to Columbia like I wanted to." or "I miss the lights and cars." In the south, we have crickets, cicadas and the rumble of trains miles away. The crickets and cicadas get so loud it's almost impossible to sleep until it isn't, and then it becomes hard to sleep without. It's the same in New York. The sounds of cars and loud talking and beeps and life gets so loud that it's almost impossible to sleep until it isn't. And then when you go home to the cicadas and the crickets and the trains, all you can think about is how much you miss the sounds of the same cars you used want to shout at.

I never miss New York until it's late at night, and I can remember the nights I used to sit up on my grandma's windowsill, trying desperately to steal wifi from the neighbors next door, or trying to sleep and staring at the plastic aquarium nightlight that she kept on the shelf until I drifted off. It was the most boring city on earth before I started sneaking out. I wasn't allowed to leave the apartment, there were a solid four good channels (I watched so much degrassi, boy meets world, maury and H20: Just add water), no wifi, no books to read or crafts to do or anything. I just had to sit there and watch people walk past all day.

And when I started sneaking out, I'd go to the NYU campus and any park I could find, and I'd pretend that I was going to walk past or meet the person who I'd spend the rest of my life with. I never did, but it's okay. The experience was better than anything I could have imagined. I'd go to costume stores, and art stores, and bookstores and I'd explore all the places I could find. Sometimes I wish I had been bold enough to use the money my parents gave me to go do stuff, like take theater classes or something. They definitely never would have known.

I miss the assumption that I would always go back to that place.

That one day I'd go and see the places my brother should have taken me to like he promised. All the cheesy places like Ellis Island (so I can see where my great grandfather first entered the US at age 12!!), or the top of the Empire State building or the Brooklyn Bridge. I'd actually do anything to at least see Brooklyn. But it would be a bit too painful, and I don't even know what I'd do there anyway. Probably take a picture, post it on Instagram and say, "Brooklyn in Brooklyn! bah dum tsss!"

Anyway, so clearly this song took me down memory lane lol

#Youtube

[dargeereads]

Julie Ann Walker has a gorgeous new romantic suspense series launching this fall–check out BLACK KNIGHTS: RELOADED and grab your copy of the first book August 29th!

Title: Back in Black

Author: Julie Ann Walker

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: August 29th

About Back In Black:

A secret identity mixed in with forced proximity on top of red-hot chemistry? What could go wrong? The Black Knights are back and better than ever! FBI agent Grace Beacham is on the run. After an operation to bring down a Russian disinformation campaign goes sideways and ends in her partner’s death, the Kremlin has sent its most notorious assassin to kill her. Not knowing who to trust inside the Bureau, Grace is forced to call on the one man who might be able to save her. The one man she hasn’t been able to forget. BKI operative Hunter Jackson walked away from Grace Beacham three years ago. And he hasn’t looked back. But when his cell phone suddenly jangles to life with Grace on the other end begging for his help, he doesn’t hesitate to ride to her rescue. Grace is no stranger to men like Hunter. Men who are devastatingly attractive and in love with their perilous professions and no-strings-attached lifestyles. As the two of them go off-grid to uncover the truth behind what happened on her last assignment, she fears her life might not be the only thing on the line. With Hunter, her heart could be in danger too. "A first-rate thrill ride."—Publishers Weekly, STARRED Review for Thrill Ride "This razor-sharp, sensual, and intriguing tale will get hearts pounding"—Publishers Weekly, STARRED Review for Wild Ride "Deft characterization, skillful pacing, touches of humor, and red-hot love scenes rev up this highly recommended roller-coaster." —Publishers Weekly, STARRED Review for In Rides Trouble

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        Title: Black Hearted

Author: Julie Ann Walker

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: September 26th

About Back Hearted:

He’s everything she ever wanted. She’s everything he never knew he needed. Can she convince him she’s the one? The Black Knights are back and better than ever! Samuel Harwood has spent his entire career working in the black and gray areas of international intrigue. Living in the shadows for so long has made him forget who he was and where he came from. Then a blast from the past, in the form of his ex-girlfriend’s kid sister, arrives on the front steps of Black Knights Inc, reminding him of everything he left behind. Except, she’s no longer a kid. And she’s in serious trouble. Hannah Blue has been in love with Sam Harwood since she was in braces. When someone sabotages her entire life, he’s the first person she turns to. She has critical information about a potential cyber-attack on the U.S. power grid that could end in catastrophic financial damage and loss of life. But the FBI thinks she’s a traitor. And now she’s on the run to save herself and the fate of the entire nation. Who does Samuel trust? The smart, sexy woman he’s known since he was a teenager? Or the government authorities who give him his orders and cut his paychecks? He’ll make one desperate play to find out. A play that could cost him everything…including his heart.

About the Author:

Born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Julie grew up in a house full of women – she has three older sisters. As you can imagine, there was no lack of drama… or romance. Her mother enrolled her in a book club as soon as she began to read and it was the small spark that ignited her voracious appetite for the written word. Because of Julie’s early immersion in literature, she found writing came quite naturally. In high school, she won multiple writing contests and was the proud senior editor of The Tiger’s Tale – her school newspaper. During her college years, however, she longed for a challenge. “Reading and writing felt like second nature to me, so I looked for a way to flex my mental muscles,” she recalls. After receiving a Bachelor of Science degree, Julie began teaching advanced high school mathematics. “I loved working with the students and facing the challenges of the classroom, but I longed for the occasional snow day when I could race to the local book store, buy two or three new novels, and curl up in front of the fire to read.” It wasn’t until a fortuitous move to Chicago that Julie once more returned to her first passion. Now Julie loves to travel the world looking for views to compete with her deadlines. When she’s not writing, she enjoys camping, hiking, cycling, cooking, petting every dog that walks by her, and… reading, of course!  

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#Julie Ann Walker #BKI Reloaded #series announcement

[petrovaaaae]

White Winter Wolf

CHAPTER 16

warning ; mature

He thanked Steve, when he got home with a drunken pile of avengers, he thanked him. When they arrived home, Irina was curled up on Bucky sleeping. They had talked a little, but they mostly just enjoyed each others company that night, slipping in little kisses throughout the night. But he didn't push it, no. He wanted her to take the lead, he wanted her to be comfortable. Hell, even if he was new to this whole...dating in this age. He didn't want her to feel pressured, forced, or anything like that. So, that was how they went. They would spend time together like they always did, but Steve joined them now. Why? Because Steve knew. And when Steve wasn't there, Bucky would steal kisses from her, he would pepper her face with them and take delight in her laughter as he did. He loved seeing that flush of pink on her cheeks, that little bright light sparkling in her eyes. Even then they were in the living area, when others were around, he would watch her, and she would often catch him staring and offer him a soft smile. 

"So, the threat to your life has officially been eradicated," Stark said as he walked in. They had been in the living area. Irina and Thor were playing some games console thing. Bucky had no clue what it was, so he just watched the graphics and pictures moving on the screen. Irina took the headset off, turning around to look at Tony.

"What?" She asked, raising a brow. "How?"

"Steve and Natasha took down the organisation, they are officially prisoners of the state." Tony admitted and Irina rolled her head, looking at Thor who was staring at her.

"Lady Irina, mere mortals dared to threaten your life?" Thor asked and Irina laughed "You should have told me, I would flew to their houses and brought my hammer to show them that they do not threaten the life of my dear friend."

​Irina tutted, shaking her head. "Tried to stab me, in broad daylight."

"Using knives is a cowards trick." Thor said, shaking his head "Why would they threaten your life, lady Irina? you are a gentle soul."

"Ah, yeah, no can do buddy." Stark said, shaking his head and Irina glanced over at Bucky and smiled at him. Bucky felt the corner of his lip tug because he knew what Stark was going to say "She kidnapped their boss and beat the shit out of him."

​Thor looked at Irina and pursed his lips "I am sure it was justified."

"Was it justified? Barnes and noble, was it justified?" Tony asked, causing Bucky to roll his head towards Tony, running his tongue along his bottom lip as he tugged it between his teeth. His eyes glanced back at Irina, who had her brow raised with a grin. "No! Don't look at her!" Bucky looked back at Tony.

"We got what we needed." Bucky said, shrugging his shoulders. 

"Of course you did, physco sally in the corner beat it from him." Tony said, causing Irina to snort at his words. Although Bucky noticed this was the second time Tony had referenced Irina's rather unhinged nature, did it bother him? Yes. She was...crazy, she was just.....exotic. 

​"He shouldn't have taken it personally." Irina said, looking back at the tv 

"He is no true man if he can not take a punch from a little girl." Thor said, causing Irina to look at him with narrowed eyes. "What? You are little."

"I will punch you next if you don't watch your mouth, meat head." Irina drawled. 

"I am on your side, Lady Irina." Thor said, shaking his head, "In any case, by punching me, you will only maim yourself."

"You think that." Bucky said, and Thor looked at him, furrowing his brows

"She has punched you?" Thor asked in disbelief. 

"Twice." Bucky stated flatly "Both times it hurt."

"I also kicked his ass once," Irina interjected. 

"You...You did not." Bucky said, looking at her and she grinned. "It was an unfair advantage."

"Barnes, we have the footage," Tony said, looking over at him. Wait, they had the footage of Irina literally knocking the stuffing out of him? 

​"We can save him the embarrassment of having to watch himself get floored." Irina said. 

"No! Bring it to me, I want to watch." Thor demanded and Irina stood up, laughing "Lady Irina, where are you going? We still have another round!"

"Thor, I have been stuck here in this compound for ages." Irina admitted, looking at him. "Not that..I don't appreciate your company, but I really need to get out of here before I actually do go insane." 

"Where you going?" Tony asked, and Irina groaned, looking at him. "Just because the target is off your back, doesn't mean I won't worry."

"Ask cold snap." Irina said, as Bucky's head snapped up. "Hurry up, James." She said as she walked away. Oh, so it looked as if they were going out today. He stood up, nodding his head as he followed after Irina.

"Frosty flake, call me if you get into trouble." Tony called after them and he found Irina beside the elevator humming. Did he know where they were going? No. But, he didn't mind. 

"Will you bring me to that place?" Irina asked, turning to look at him and he nodded. He guessed she needed to just be away from here, even if it was just for a few hours. So, they got into the elevator, going down to the garage, but this time he brought the car. It was getting a little chilly, so the bike wasn't acceptable. Well, he could stick the chill, but Irina couldn't. She got cold easily, especially since she was more prone to wearing dresses. Like now, she was wearing a grey-type pinafore dress with a white shirt underneath and those black fashion combat boots. So, they got into the car and he set off on the journey. Along the way, Irina was humming along to the radio station and Bucky had his hand placed on her thigh. When he did it she smiled at him, she didn't mind it. When they reached the spot, she got out of the car, moving round it to sit on the bumper. He watched how her chesnut hair blew in the wind, how she inhaled the sweet essence of nature. She must have really missed it, heck, even Bucky missed it. 

Getting out of the car, he walked around it to sit on the bumper with her "Egg died." Irina suddenly said and he looked at her "He died this morning." She looked at him, for a moment he didn't know if she was going to cry...but she suddenly burst out into laughter "I guess living in a bowl really does shorten your life."

"Poor egg." Bucky mumbled looking away "I guess you don't want another goldfish?"

"No." She replied instantly turning her head to look at him "Absolutely not."

"Alpine is pretty easy to take care off, he just kind off...does his own thing." Bucky admitted, which was probably why he liked alpine so much. 

"I don't think I have the concentration span to actually look after an animal." She admitted, looking away "I forgot to feed egg like...many times."

"Again, poor egg." Bucky turned his head to look at her "Why did you name him egg?"

"Because fish come from eggs." She said and Bucky couldn't help the laughter that erupted from him "What? They do!" 

"Roe, Irina." Bucky whispered, running his tongue over his lips as he tried to contain his grin "Roe."

"Roe, eggs, same thing." Irina said, and she pushed herself up to sit up on the bumper, her legs dangling off it "I always did want a gerbil, but I think if I brought anything small and furry back to the compound Stark would absolutely....freak...." Her words trailed off as she turned her head to look at him "You are friends with rocket, aren't you?"

God. That Racoon "His friend, Nebula, stole my arm once." He said, turning his head to look at her and she raised her brow "Not this one, my old one. He wanted to buy it, and my gun."

"He is so cool." Irina whispered, her gaze drifting away "Gosh, the tree as well! Groot!" 

"Groot.." Bucky repeated the name, nodding his head with a smile. How insane was it that there were talking, walking trees? and raccoons? Heck, he didn't even question it anymore. When he had told Raynor about Rocket during his first session, she just laughed at him.

"If you could be a vegetable, which one would you be? And why?" Irina suddenly asked, but when he looked at her there was that clouded look over her eye, she was actually serious about this. She was deep in thought "I would be a carrot, it's needed in mostly everything." She said. Bucky simply stared at her, and she turned her head to look at him, a smile pulling on her face "What?"

​She had such an innocence about her, he had thought this time and time again, but that innocence radiated and pulled on him. Even though, at times, she could prove to be a murderous little demon, she was pure of heart "You are so fucking adorable." Bucky mumbled, shifting so he stood between her legs, she placed her arms around his neck, tilting her head. He could see that little light dancing in her eyes. He nudged his nose against hers, and he could feel her shifting closer to him, so he moved closer, so was pressed against her, his lips ghosting over hers. He could feel her fingertips running against the nape of her neck, her nails scrapping at the flesh and he could feel that warmth running over him, sending a pulsing heat to his loins. Did she feel it? She had to have felt it, he was pressed against her core.

"Can we go back to yours?" She suddenly asked and he nodded, pressing a soft kiss against her lips before he pulled back. He held his hand out, helping her off the bumper of the car, before getting into the car. The journey back he noticed how she constantly shifted in the seat, was she uncomfortable? Was that why she suddenly asked to go? God, did he make he feel...pressured? He knew that look, when her pupils would dilate, when that fog covered her eyes, she was in thought. When they pulled up, they got out of the car, and again she was quiet as they went up. Was he concerned? Yes. More than concerned, he was anxious. And when they got inside, she gone what she always done, took off her boots because in her own words, she hated shoes in the house...which...was valid. So he did as well. Finally, he sat on the couch, and as soon as he did, alpine scampered off, stalking off into the bedroom, disgruntled that he had been disturbed. And he watched as Irina paced, back and forth, again, as in thought.

"Irina.." Bucky said and she turned and looked at him. "I'm sorry if you feel as if I...Did I make you uncomfortable?" her shoulders slumped and she shook her head, suddenly she came over, straddling his lap and he sat back against the couch, watching her. She hesitated, looking down, running her tongue over her lips before sighing "What is it, doll?" Suddenly she looked up at him, pouting her lip.

"I want you so badly, but I don't know what to do." She whispered, and this statement shook him. Then he remembered why. That conversation they had the night he picked her up whilst she was drunk, when she all but told him she had...only slept with one other person before, and even that was years ago "Well...I do..but...I don't and..." Bucky leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling as he laughed "Bucky stop laughing." It was the first time she had actually called him his nickname as well. Well, apart from that time, she called him it by accident. This time she actually meant to say it.

"You just surprise me every single god damn time." Bucky admitted, looking at her and she raised a brow "Just...Tell me what you want, doll." 

"You." Irina whispered. And he placed his hands on her hips, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

"You have to be a little more specific than that, doll." He said, and she shifted so her core was placed directly on top of him, firmly planted against his aching crotch, and it took every single last bit of his control to stop himself from rocking up against her "No no, tell me."

"Inside of me," Irina whispered. He saw how her cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink at those words. God, to hear such ungodly words come from such an innocent mouth, did things to him. 

"I think you're wearing too much clothes for that, doll." Bucky said and her gaze dropped as she nodded. Her hands went to the little buttons on the dress, popping them off. With each button he saw how her nerves built up. Was it because he was watching her? How could he not? She was perfect in his eyes. God, she was more than perfection. When the last button was undone, she took the dress off, throwing it aside before she began unbuttoning that shirt she wore underneath, but before she could open it he wrapped his hand around hers, because he could see the heavy rise and fall with each breath she took, how it quickened with each button that came undone. Irina looked at him, but he sat forward, capturing her lips and her hands moved to the back of his neck, gripping at the short strands of hair. 

He broke from the kiss as he kissed along her jaw, moving down her neck as he placed open mouth kisses, nipping gently. He heard her soft gasps, and her hips rocked slowly against his own, which, again, he fought the urge to respond to. His hand moved up, pushing the shirt off her shoulders as she let go of those short strands of hair, letting him push the material of her, as he scattered kisses along her collar bone. moving lower until he captured one of her perk nipples in his mouth, hearing her breath hitch as her hands went to his hair once more, tugging on those short strands on the nape of his neck, before he paid attention to the other, tugging it against his teeth and when she rocked her hips, he bucked up against her. 

Suddenly he tore away, pulling at the hem of his own shirt and tugging it off, throwing it aside. When he did, her hands went to his chest, running across his skin, her fingertips running against each groove and line, as if she was trying to memorize every detail of his body. He looked at her, his eyes searching her own as her hand came up, her fingertips trailing against his cheek, trailing against the groove of his lips until it dropped and he pressed his lips against hers, his hands running over her thighs, running along the curve of his hips and the dip of her waist as he deepened the kiss, his tongue trailing against hers as she rocked her hips again, causing him to buck up against her. Suddenly her hands dropped, going to the buckle of his belt, loosening it, but he knew she wouldn't be able to shift them. He was heavy. So, he brought his own hand between them, moving hers away as he got to work on his jeans, along with his boxers because...kill two birds with one stone, hey? When he pushed his jeans and boxers off, he discarded them. He felt her hand ghosting along his shaft, and he almost bucked into her hand, but he fought against it. His right hand went to between her legs, fingertips tracing against her sweet spot and she rolled her hips, begging for contact. Her hand wrapped around him, slowly stroking him, and he groaned against her lips, breaking from the kiss to sit back. He had to watch her. His own hand dipped further between her thighs, his finger teasing against her entrance and she bit her lip, almost whining.

​So, he dipped his digit inside of her, and she all but shuddered, arching her back as the pace of her hand stroking his shaft quickened. Slowly he began moving his digit within her, and she bit her lip to contain those sweet noises he wanted to hear.

"Don't do that, doll. I want to hear you." Bucky said, and she looked at him, running her tongue over her bottom lip as he increased the pace and he watched as her face contorted in pleasure, her hips rolling against this hand, sweet, soft moans filling the room. He added a second digit, and she tightened her hold on his shaft, her hips suddenly rising and falling against his hand. "Good girl." he whispered, watching as she let her body give way to the pleasure unfolding. Her hand felt amazing wrapped around him, he was bucking his hips slightly into each stroke, but god, he needed her. 

He curled his digits within her, and her body tensed as she ground against his hand, her free hand grabbing his chest as she cried out in pleasure. He could feel her walls fluttering close around his digits, her juices coating them. As she stopped rocking her hips, he tilted his head, pulling his digits from her. He brought his digits to his mouth, tasting her juices off them and, god, she tasted divine. And she watched him, panting softly. Did she look shocked? Or just plain amazed? 

"Are you sure about this, doll?" He asked and she nodded her head "I need to hear you say it."

"Yes." She said, running her tongue over her bottom lip "Please." her last word was a whispered, and his gaze dropped as a smile tugged on the corner of his lips. Nodding his head, his right hand wrapped around the wrist of the hand that was wrapped around his shaft, moving it and placing it on his shoulder before going to her waist as he directed her to lift her hips. When she did he shifted. Was he feeling anxious? Yes. He was afraid of hurting her. God, she was so fragile. He positioned the tip of his shaft against her entrance, running it along her folds to collect her juices, that alone was pulling at his control and restraint. He could feel the warmth radiating from her and it..almost broke him. He watched as he positioned his shaft at her entrance, biting on his lower lip as she slowly slid down, a soft breathy moan escaping her, and he felt that fluttering warmth opening up as he filled her, and it was amazing. He couldn't and would never be able to describe that feeling. Once he filled her completely, she stilled for a few moments, and he fought against every urge to buck his hips, giving her time to adjust to him. 

​Irina finally began to rise and fall, with Bucky's hands on her rear guiding her. Her moans filled the room, buckys grunts and feral growls vibrating from deep within. Leaning forward, he captured her lips, his tongue evading her mouth once more as her hands gripped at his chest, her pace increasing. 

He felt that pleasure building in him, and he could feel her warmth fluttering around him, it was like the softest of velvets wrapped around him. Moving his right hand, he brought it between them, finding that sweet bundle of nerves and rubbing against it and her  hips jerked. What he didn't expect was for her to bite on his bottom lip, but boy, he loved that. He moved down her neck, niping and biting at the sensitive flesh before locking onto her pressure point and she tensed, crying out in pleasure as her hips began grinding against him, his hand still rubbing against that little bundle of nerves as he walls fluttered close around him, keeping him prisoner as her juices flowed, bringing around her second orgasm of the night. As her hips slowly came to a halt, Bucky kissed the spot where he had all but sunk his teeth into her, marking her, before moving up her neck and coming to her ear.

"I'm not finished with you yet," he whispered, 

"What?" she squeaked and he moved his hand, bringing it to her back, and he pressed her against his chest, sitting back against the couch, his left hand gripping at her hip to keep hips still as he began thrusting up into her sensitive flesh. She lay against his chest, her forehead pressed into his neck as his hand that was pressed against her neck moved up, entwining in those strands of chestnut hair. God, the feeling was amazing. Her hands gripped at his chest, her nails tearing into his flesh which only made his pace increase, pounding upwards against her core. He could feel that tingle, that brisk feeling creeping up on him, his grip on her hip tightening as he nails dragged against his skin, how feral growls vibrated from his chest, feeling that heat rushing through his veins and spreading to his groin. He could heard her small, soft cries of pleasure, the room was filled with the beautiful sound of him moving within her, taking her with each slide of his shaft within her, and he felt her body tense once more, that heat spreading through him reaching every last part of him as her walls clamped down around him, a deep pleasure filled groan emmiting from him as he released inside of her, filling her with his seed. He continued rocking his hips, letting them both ride out the last few waves of their orgasm before he came to a stop. He was panting, and she was absolutely lifeless against his chest. 

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, his grip on her hip releasing, his right hand entangling from her hair. She turned her head, looking at him, giving a nod.

"Mhm." She hummed, and he smiled at her, and she only offered him a lazy smile. Slowly she lifted off him "Bucky I need to get a shower because...mess.." 

"What? Oh..." He nodded, and when she went to stand her knees literally gave way and he leaned forward catching her before she could literally topple over "Right, Ill wait in the bedroom, incase you fall in the shower and hurt yourself, doll." 

"Mhm." Irina hummed and he guided her to the bedroom, watching as she walked into the bathroom. Suddenly he was aware that he was....he was standing in front of alpine naked. So, he grabbed the throw blanket, wrapping it around his waist. Going to the closet he took out one of his tops for Irina because..she wore them all the time, she might as well now. It made more sense now.  Going to the bathroom, he set his top on the side for her before leaving. Give her, privacy especially..now. A few minutes passed and Irina came out, her hair wet from the water, wearing his black top. There was a light trail of pink across her cheek, as she walked over to the bed, climbing on it. Turning she looked at him and he walked over to her, placing a kiss against her head.

"Lie down with alpine, ill be back soon." He said and she nodded, giving him a lazy smile as she basically fell down onto the pillows and pulled alpine over to her. He walked into the bathroom, removing the throw blanket and setting it aside before turning on the shower water, and stepping in. God, usually he would have to...come here when Irina was here to stop those urges..but now...He felt amazing. He actually felt good. Stepping out of the shower, he dried off before he put on fresh boxers before going out to the bedroom. Irina was mumbling little things to alpine, scratching him behind the ears and it only made him smile. He made his way to the bed, and alpine got up and went to the bottom of the bed as Bucky lay down on it. She shifted closer to him, laying her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her. 

"You never told me what vegetable you would be." Irina suddenly said, causing Bucky to furrow his brows to try and understand what she was talking about before he realised it was from their earlier conversation. Suddenly he laughed before exhaling deeply. When she turned her head to look at him, he saw that deep bruise forming on her neck that he caused....whilst...biting her... Lifting his hand, he tucked her hair behind her ear, to at least see the bruise better. Was he happy it was there? It would surely tell others she was not available, that she belonged to someone. Did it hurt her? He didn't think it did "James."

"Yes? Yes. Vegetable." He said, furrowing his brows. Was he actually thinking about this? Apparently he had,= too, "Cabbage. Nobody likes them." 

"I like cabbage." Irina suddenly said, a smile pulling on her lips.

"Yeah but you're weird." Bucky admitted, looking at her. Did his thoughts just become words without his consent? Absolutely. Did he think he offended her? Yes. But he saw that little light in her eyes dance as she leaned up and pressed a kiss against his lips. When she pulled back he only stared at her, how did he get so lucky? god knows he didn't deserve this.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked and she shook her head

"Absolutely not.." Irina confirmed, a trail of pink spreading across her cheeks "Far from it." she whispered and he grinned at her as her gaze lowered "How did it feel?" He had to know, he had to know it felt just as good for her as it did for him, because god, it was fucking amazing for him. 

"Much different than the last time," she admitted, and he raised his brow and she looked at him. "Amazing." she whispered, and he nodded his head, leaning up and rolling them over. As he looked down at her, he cupped her face, his thumb trailing across her lower lip.

"Good." he mumbled, running his tongue along his bottom lip "Because nobody else but me is ever going to touch you like that again." he said, his thumb dragging her lower lip and she nodded her head "You belong to me now, doll." A smile pulled on her lips as he leaned moved his hand, leaning down and pressing his lips against hers. And he meant that, he would kill anybody who even so much as looked at her the wrong way. Hell, if he could banish improper thoughts from guys minds about her, he would. Bucky was protective over what was his, he was not a man to share.

#bucky needs a hug #bucky barnes x oc #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #winter soldier fanfiction #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes