#p: good samaritan

[xinxiaogato]

— snip! snip! snip...!

summary. the hairstyle of the guy with indigo eyes was very specific: a short jellyfish cut that ended at the base of his neck with wispy, sparse bangs lined up in the front. however, what would happen if your boyfriend gave someone free rein to a pair of scissors near his head?

love interests. gn!reader x kabukimono, scaramouche, and wanderer. (separately)

warnings. cursing, jealousy, unedited, and a lil spicy during wanderer’s part.

word count. 3,506.

note. let’s pretend both niwa and the nameless child (named “isamu” here) are alive at the same time for this fic… you are referred to as “reader” by the way!

꒰ 傾奇者 ꒱ — kabukimono

your cutie patootie of a boyfriend always burst through the door after working at the forge and embraced you as if centuries had passed since the last time you saw each other.

but today, for some odd reason, when you heard the familiar squeak of the front door, that squeak wasn’t followed by the usual croon of your name and a rush of footsteps toward you. instead, you listened to kabukimono wordlessly pad into the bathroom…

and he didn’t come out.

concerned for his well-being, you quickly made your way outside the room he barricaded himself in and knocked on the door twice. “kabukimono?” you called for him. “are you all right?”

silence.

and then you heard him sniffle.

“y-yeah, i’m okay,” his voice returned meekly. “please don’t worry about me…”

your heart squeezed tightly in your chest. “wait, are you crying?"

"..."

"kabukimono, please let me know what’s going on. we can work it out together. you know that.”

you prepared to give him space if there was no reply, but the door creaked open shortly after. you took that as an invitation to walk in but was abruptly glomped by him, his face buried into your chest.

“kabukimono!” startled, you tried to gently push your boyfriend off, but it was like the two of you got stuck together by adhesive glue.

“what happened?” you asked with what breath he hadn’t squeezed out of your lungs.

kabukimono was so, so embarrassed. half of the reason he refused to budge was the shame for not greeting you properly…

…but the other half was the atrocity that had become of his front bangs!

previously, niwa had noticed them getting a tad too long to the point they were poking into kabukimono’s eyes, so like a good samaritan, niwa suggested to give them a little trim. 

kabukimono should’ve protested a little harder when he saw niwa take out scissors the size of gardening shears.

“n-niwa…!” quivered kabukimono as he gawked at himself through a shard of glass.

“i’m so sorry, friend; this is all my fault! but it doesn’t look too bad?”

“…niwa, reader is going to break up with me.”

niwa offered up his bandana for kabukimono to wear home, but kabukimono knew he’ll have to face this dilemma head-on sooner or later.

however, the closer he got to his and your house of wooden veneer… the more he dreaded your reaction.

“kabukimono…” you said softly, which turned his stomach. “…may i see your face?”

“…”

against his better judgment, the wandering samurai peeled his face off of your clothes and angled it so that you could glimpse his bangs, which were much shorter than you were accustomed to. your lips parted in mild surprise as you took another second to process this.

“…i look terrible,” kabukimono murmured in the silence, tears pricking his bluish-purple eyes. he knew he was seconds away from bidding his quaint life with you goodbye. “p-please don’t leave me…” he added underneath his breath, his fingers gripping onto you tighter like you were about to disappear.

…so this is what he was trying to hide all along.

you let out a little “pfft” that captured his attention and then smoothed back his short bangs to plant a kiss as sweet as summer fruit on his forehead.

“kabukimono, you look perfect,” whispered you with only love in your eyes.

for the first time that night, kabukimono looked up and donned a gaze of profound intensity that felt like it was sucking you in. he really loved it when you said his name with your voice; it made him melt into a puddle. 

“i’m not gonna leave you over something this silly,” you continued, making him scrunch his face when you booped his nose. “besides, it’ll grow out.”

“really?” he croaked.

“really. now how about you wake up isamu while i get dinner ready?”

kabukimono blinked away tears that had threatened to spill down his cheeks earlier. you always dispelled his worries in a flash no matter how trivial they were. why did he ever have doubts in the first place? you were his sanctuary—the end-all to his anxiety of being abandoned. “okay!”

꒰ 国崩 ꒱ — scaramouche

slam!

that sound of the door to his bedroom was nothing to sneeze at, but the fact that the fatui harbinger didn’t greet you with a kiss on the lips as per usual was. hell, you didn’t even get the chance to see his face when he came home. that either meant he was really angry or really tired, and whether he joined you for dinner was up to you to test the waters.

tonight, you were feeling brave. how could he turn down your infamous chicken katsu?

“scara!” you exclaimed, wiping your hands on a towel before approaching the lion’s den. “i made dinner! or would you prefer a shower? or perhaps… moi?”

“…”

“i know you’re in there. at least give me a sign that you’re alive.”

“...”

“scaramouche! scaramouche! will you do the fandango?”

“...”

“sc-scara, there’s a fire in the kitchen!”

“…”

“seriously?”

well, you supposed you should’ve saved that one for later. you used that excuse last week to lure him out.

heaving a sigh, you turned on your heel to accept eating alone for the night when scaramouche suddenly whipped the door open and encircled his arms around you from behind, pulling a shocked you to his chest and locking you in place.

“if you turn around, we’re breaking up,” he grumbled into your ear.

“huh!?” you thrashed around in scaramouche’s grip to no avail. “that’s not something you can just decide on your own!”

“don’t care. if you saw me—!”

if you saw him, you would most definitely laugh, and the last thing scaramouche wanted to be was a laughing stock to his lover. of course he would cast aside his ego when it came to your reputation, but archons forbid you seeing him as something pitiable. not if he could help it.

“don’t you realize i’ll be more upset if i didn’t get to see your handsome face, darling?” you whined with futile tugs and twists at his wrists. “as to whatever happened, it can’t be that bad!”

oh, it was bad. really bad.

“the most important thing is eye contact!” declared his colleague with the irritatingly bright locks of orange hair. “after all, there’s a saying that eyes are the windows of the soul. how else are you supposed to communicate your feelings to them?”

“...dude, you don’t even have light in your eyes,” scaramouche responded. “why should i take advice from you?”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

sandrone’s massive puppet smacked tartaglia upside the head as she scowled. “stop making a ruckus, and just cut the balladeer’s bowlcut already. he looks homeless.”

“yes, i don’t think we can handle the sixth harbinger’s lamentation about his relationship much longer,” arlecchino grumbled, her eyes turning so far upward that they almost rolled right out of the room.

“none of you guys were even supposed to know about it!” scaramouche roared with fury practically emanating off of him.

this outburst had all the other partygoers of the tsarita’s banquet turning their heads. they couldn’t believe their eyes, but it was true. all ten executive heads of the fatui were gathered together in one place (fly high, signora). even the harbingers themselves never thought something like this would happen if it weren’t for you, who scaramouche had introduced and (to his dismay) had made them all smitten toward you. even the tsaritsa thought you were pleasant.

the fatui harbingers could not refuse your suggestion to have “team bonding events”—this gala being one of them—and the animosity between these lieutenants have actually lessened over time (by a hair’s breadth).

“i can use my water blades,” tartaglia offered, who thrusted his hands forward to summon them.

scaramouche’s hands balled into fists, ready to clock the eleventh harbinger before he even had the chance. “no. a thousand times no! don’t even get those things close to me if you want to live, you asshat.”

“what… transpired this?” whispered pulcinella, unable to keep up with the youngsters’ energy.

pantalone took it upon himself to explain the situation. “word is that our dear reader complimented the hairstyle of a subordinate working underneath the balladeer,” the regrator informed as he pushed his neck-strap spectacles higher up the bridge of his nose. “since then, he has failed to complete a single assignment.”

revealing his sharp canines, dottore snickered. “in spite of that, it truly is miraculous that the kid found someone who could get past his ironclad exterior.”

columbina hummed in agreement. “it is miraculous that anyone even likes him~!”

they eventually resorted to a pair of scissors that dottore had in his coat pocket (dottore was almost disappointed when il capitano reminded everyone that he carried one), and after some convincing and straight up fist fighting, it was decidedly pulcinella who got on a stool to give scaramouche a snip.

and pulcinella… doesn’t have the best eyes.

“if it’s about your dark circles, it’s okay,” you reassured scaramouche back in the present. “i’ll always accept you the way you are.”

“i don’t have dark circles!” in a fit of rage, scaramouche spun around to glare at you while blinking several times in quick succession and—lo and behold—gave you front-row seats to pulcinella’s botched job at cutting his bangs, which now ended halfway down his forehead. scaramouche felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight of your widened eyes before he shoved his hat into your face and stormed off.

“w-wait, scara!” you chased after him to the living room, and he still refused to face you. “that was what you were worried about me seeing?”

following that was a silence that thickened the air. you walked up to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “hey… i like guys with short hair, you know?”

…

…

…

“...but that damn skirmisher had long hair,” your boyfriend grumbled.

ah. this confirmed your suspicion that he overheard you speaking to his underling. little did scaramouche know that you had just been asking about your boyfriend’s whereabouts that day (but of course the balladeer anxiously spying on you the whole time made it impossible for you to locate him).

“i also like guys with blue hair and blue eyes.” you went to stand in front of scaramouche and placed his kasa hat back onto his head before squishing his face with your hands. he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to pull away, but the almighty harbinger became weak before you very easily. “i like guys with red eyeliner. a big hat. a haughty attitude. i like you, darling. and nothing is going to change that.”

scaramouche clenched his jaw and looked down at the floor dejectedly. “...how can you stand it though? you just said my attitude is haughty. is that… fine?”

“i’m still here, aren’t i?” you smiled. “and i’m not going anywhere. even if you went bald.”

“...do not allow that image to form in your brain, reader.”

“it’s too late.”

“reader!”

but despite the irritation laced in his voice, his lips were curled into a smile reserved only for his lover’s eyes. he liked you, too, and nothing was going to change that.

꒰ 放浪者 ꒱ — wanderer

“lesser lord kusanali.”

the dendro archon whirled around and almost let out a breath of relief at the sight of you entering the sanctuary of surasthana, your fingers intertwined behind your back. “grand sage, it is good to see you,” nahida greeted earnestly. “i’m sorry for contacting you on such short notice, but you were the only one i could think of reaching out to.”

“really?” you cocked an eyebrow as you descended down the white stone walkway. not at all did you mind chatting with nahida when you had the chance, but if you were the only person capable of solving her problem, it must be serious. “what could be the matter?”

“well… it’s rather a long story.” scratching her cheek, the dendro archon recounted what took place that morning.

“what are you thinking about?” the little archon questioned as she and wanderer strolled along the outskirts of the city.

wanderer kicked a rock that had the misfortune of being in his path. “you and i both know the answer to that,” he stoically replied.

“has it been that long since you and reader have seen each other?”

those words made something in wanderer’s chest feel a foreign pang, one that only occurred when he envisioned your face.

“i know that they’re busy with official affairs,” he scoffed, coming to a full stop. nahida followed suit, looking back at him with a hand to her heart. “it just can’t be safe for humans to stay cooped up inside of their offices all day long.”

nahida knew the nonchalance in wanderer’s tone was just a cover-up for how much he missed you, and the archon was all too familiar with that feeling. “wanderer—”

“i’m gonna make them regret prioritizing their work over me.”

with a tip of his hat, wanderer started trudging back the way they came.

“hey, wait!” she rushed after him and clung onto one of the blue fabrics dangling from the back of his head covering, which yanked him back toward her.

“what?” he deadpanned.

“how are you planning to make reader regret it?” she asked her disciple, anxious about letting him out of her sight.

“...”

wanderer recalled overhearing a conversation in the grand bazaar. a woman was fawning over her husband’s new appearance, who shaved off his beard earlier that day because he wanted to surprise her, and it was like she fell in love with him for the first time all over again.

wanderer wanted you to fall in love with him all over again.

“haircut,” he grunted.

“haircut?” nahida echoed.

“i want a haircut.” wanderer blatantly pointed at his head.

nahida took a moment to process his request before breaking out into a smile antagonistic to his scowl. “leave it to me!”

“and that was my first time cutting someone’s hair…” concluded nahida quite dejectedly. “...so you can imagine his fury when he got his hands on a mirror…”

“oh, archons,” you muttered right in front of her, slapping a hand to your face. “where is he now?”

“i’m not sure… i think he grumbled something about curling up in a corner and never seeing a single person again before he flew away.”

the only place you could imagine he escaped to was your shared home together in sumeru city, which was the biggest decision you two had carried out together in your relationship so far. however, you had no idea that the house became such a lonely place for wanderer. anguish squeezed your heart as you pictured him eating dinner alone, pretending the food was satiating like you had suggested in the past because he had wanted to be more human. “like you,” he had said.

“please let the other sages know i am taking an early leave,” i said, pivoting on my heel. “lunch is on me tomorrow!”

“good luck!” nahida called out to you, and as you pushed through the doors of the sanctuary, you felt like you grew wings right there and then.

when was the last time you inhaled a breath of fresh air…?

you dashed home as fast as your little legs (that had been stationary for what? six days?) could carry you home. along the way, nilou stopped you to discuss performing for the people in aaru village, cyno wished to speak about dispatching additional soldiers to monitor trade in the caravan ribat, and al haitham wanted a vacation(?)

however, you had to direct each one of them to your p.o. box because there was one request that waited to be fulfilled for a long, long time.

“babe!” you exclaimed, stumbling a bit as you peeled off your shoes at the doorway. “babe, are you home?”

silence. every step you took further down the hallway entrance felt like stepping onto an eggshell, and your mind started to wonder. was he not actually here? where could he have gone then?

“babe—”

in a flash, you were tightly enveloped by a pair of arms that knocked the wind out of your lungs. you almost lost your footing if it weren’t for the wall right behind you while, in front of you, your lover’s shaking eyes were trying to immortalize every detail of your face onto the canvas of his mind.

“reader…” wanderer mumbled, his cold hands cupping your cheeks like they were made of glass. “you’re here.”

a complicated feeling began to creep up inside of your chest. you didn’t even have the heart to “pfft” at his bangs that looked like a kindergartener had cut it (which wasn’t far from the truth). the crooked ups and downs of his bangs were the least of your concerns.

“i’m so sorry, wanderer,” you whispered as you reached up and gently held his wrists. “i’ve been so busy with attending meetings and approving requests that—”

“shut it.”

wanderer leaned in and hungrily captured your lips with his, and it didn’t take long before they began to trail butterfly kisses down your jaw and to your neck. his grazing teeth coaxed small noises from your mouth as they made light work of your sensitive skin.

“wanderer, wait…”

he pulled back momentarily to look you dead in the eye. “i have waited far too long,” wanderer snarled. “just let me have you, reader…”

you could not risk losing the ability to walk like last time. an idea came over you in that moment to break the spell clouding wanderer’s eyes with lust and desire.

“i’M gONna mAke tHem rEGret pRioriTiziNg thEir worK oVEr Me!” you cried out dramatically as if you had been fatally wounded.

your allusion was so out of character that it completely caught him off guard. as wanderer pressed his lips into a thin line, he created some room for jesus between his body and yours and asked in a contemptuous voice, “did lesser lord kusanali make you come here?”

“of course not. i’m here because of you, babe.” you chuckled. “did you think i wouldn’t notice all the subliminal messages you planted in your works?”

wanderer’s eyes widened in light of that. “you read the scholars’ papers?”

“not typically, but i asked the sage of the vahumana darshan to provide me with yours,” you clarified.

you adored the way your partner wrote—even if he always acted like crafting those essays together was a chore. reading his dissertation on societal issues in inazuma was actually how you two crossed paths, as you voraciously sought the author behind it. who would have predicted that the aloof, cold stranger nahida introduced to you as “hat guy” became your clingy mess of a boyfriend years later?

“whatever, don’t pull that disappearing act on me again,” he snapped, flicking your forehead in an odd display of affection. you held back a few colorful words from the sheer strength he put into that finger.

“it’s not like i was trying to avoid you,” you stated. “plus, i would argue that you disappeared, too, babe. even our archon couldn’t surmise where you ran off to.”

“well, you knew where to find me.” and that’s all that matters, he chose not to add.

a soft laugh bubbled from your throat as you directed your attention back to what made him disappear in the beginning. “hey… there’s no need to doll yourself up to get my attention.” you gently swept his silky bangs to the side. “you are always on my mind and even more so when we’re apart.”

a hush descended over the world around you two as wanderer squinted his troubled eyes and averted them to the floor in deep thought.

he could not kid himself any longer. you, a measly and pathetic mortal, had successfully slipped past the outer shell he built to fool irminsul into believing that he was not an individual worthy of loving, existing, redeeming.

“...”

“wanderer?”

"...rea..."

reader, each day felt longer than the last without you by my side.

i never thought i would have a person in this world who wanted me as much as you do.

 if i had to thank beelzebub for one thing, it would be creating me so that i could meet you.

you are the center of my universe.

“teyvat to wanderer…?”

but wanderer would rather die than say allat. hmm, maybe he’ll put those heartfelt words on paper so that you can read them in your office, giggling and kicking your feet.

in the meantime, he settled on dragging you to the bedroom. “you’re getting punished anyway.”

“wha…!? wait, wanderer!”

but on the inside, you were so happy that it didn’t matter if your boyfriend had to fly you to the akademiya every morning for the next several days. you wished for nothing to take away the beautiful smile you could see creeping onto his face.

© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.

[lilacgyuvin]

star — p. gunwook

pairing: gunwook x gn!reader

synopsis: gunwook unfortunately loses his wallet. luckily for him, a good samaritan is kind enough to trace the address on his i.d. and brings it straight to his doorstep! too bad it’s his newly ex-best friend (post-dramatic confession of love).

word count: 3.6k

warnings: highschool!au, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, BARELY proofread, jealous gunwookie, talks of falling out, misunderstandings, miscommunication, feat. seniors hanbin and seunghan (and eunseok), not to be taken serious this is just fiction!!

a/n: needed a break from writing that tattoo artist jiwoong au so i wrote this 🥸

Gunwook’ s lost his wallet.

It’s no big deal! It’s not like his whole life is in there or anything: his money, I.D., credit and debit card, along with his ultra rare Twicecoaster Lane 1 devil Nayeon photocard— yeah, he’d be fine without them.

He only realizes when he get’s on the train home from school, reaching for the photocard for emotional support after the shit week he’s had until he realizes it’s in his wallet which definitely isn’t in any of his pockets right now.

He finally lets out what he thinks is a quiet ‘fuck!’ after patting his pockets down and emptying out his backpack for the third time, which ends up not being as quiet as he originally thought, if the looks from the elderly couple sat across from him are anything to go by.

A few hours go by, and he’s still mourning the loss of devil Nayeon— oh, and all that other stuff too, he guesses. To get his mind off of things, Gunwook thinks a game of Fortnite with his loving friends would do the trick. It’s twenty minutes after when their entire squad gets wiped out (and proceed to get emoted on) is when he retracts that whole idea.

“I’m positive those guys were like, ten year olds. Do you know how embarrassing that is?!” Hanbin’s voice comes from Gunwook’s headset, meshing with the groans of Eunseok and the laughter of Seunghan on the other ends of the call.

“Obviously, it just happened to us! And the audacity. of Gyuvin to leave when he’s the reason we lost. His aim is so fucking ass,” Eunseok speaks loud and fast into his mic, making Gunwook wince at the volume. He seriously needs to start putting his volume down as soon as Eunseok joins. “Why do we still play with him? No, seriously someone answer me, why do we still play with him? Can we replace him with Y/n? Matter fact, I’m calling them right now I can’t do this.”

Seunghan’s laughter comes to a halt the minute their name is mentioned, just like Gunwook’s breathing for a split second.

“Eunseok.” Seunghan says his name and it sounds like Eunseok’s movements come to a stop, the only sound being that of the classic lobby music and the occasional Ps4 notification.

“... Does Gyuvin not have shit aim? I mean, we all saw that.” he says, and Hanbin then decides it’s his turn to speak up. “Maybe don’t talk about Y/n right now.”

It’s only now that Gunwook realizes he hadn’t told Eunseok about the whole ordeal this entire time, and it’s evident in the way he gasps from the other end of the call. “Y/n?! The fuck happened with Y/n? Oh my God please don’t tell me I have to cut them off they’re so fun. Speaking of, we have plans next week on Thursday to this new—”

“Eunseok seriously shut the fuck up.”

“ ‘Kay I’m gonna go heat up my hot pockets.”

Gunwook feels bad since he’s kind of the reason why Eunseok got cursed out by Seunghan. He’ll make it up to him after the upcoming, full on expected pep talk from Hanbin.

“You two still aren’t talking?” he asks the same time Eunseok logs off, and Gunwook thinks that maybe he too can escape this if he leaves without a second thought. He then realizes that Hanbin can literally just call him after he leaves, so he decides to dish it out and get it over with, mumbling his next words. “Well they’re not talking to me.”

It sounds childish, but he wasn’t lying! “The phone works both ways, Gunwook.” he sighs, the sounds of him readjusting in his seat being heard before he’s continuing, “Was it that embarrassing?”

Gunwook forgets that he didn’t explain the extent of the situation to his senior, so it isn’t entirely Hanbin’s fault that he thinks that Gunwook is simply embarrassed, but he can’t help the groan that follows anyway. “It’s not just that. It’s- I can’t even say.”

It’s nothing personal, really— everyone knows that Sunghoon and Y/n used to go out (for a mere 5 months, so Gunwook doesn’t even care for real!). What people didn’t know was how they swore to Gunwook that they’d never get back with him, not even for a second, so when Gunwook finally realizes the feelings he has for his best friend and decides to do something about them (queue chocolates and flowers at the end of the school day), the last thing he expects to see is Y/n and fucking Sunghoon, holding each other in a warm hug, like they’d shrivel up and die if they were to part.

Gunwook wished that had happened to him when he walks into the empty classroom, the wrapping from the flower arrangement in his hands startling the two out of their tight embrace. They looked like a pair of deer caught in headlights, frozen in place as they watch Gunwook’s word die on his tongue, mouth agape as he tries to restore them.

“Sorry. Bad time.” it’s the only coherent thing he can manage to say before he’s making a beeline for the door, too embarrassed and upset to verbalize the rest of his thoughts. Never getting back together, huh? Gunwook’s feeling a lot of things in this current moment, but the one that sticks out the most is how utterly stupid he feels. It’s so intense it almost drives him to anger, but he’s on the train home before it can get to that point, free from the fear of them running after him.

He isn’t particularly proud of what he does when they text him almost immediately after the whole ordeal, only responding after he gets home.

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: omg i’m so sorry i totally forgot you asked to meet up

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: we were just talking

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: did you still wanna talk? where’d you go??

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: gunwook??

You:

sorry i had to rush home

You:

its fine tho lol

You:

i was just gonna ask your opinion on

the flowers i got

You:

they’re for eunchae

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: oh

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: i didn’t know you liked eunchae?

You:

yup

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: okay well then yeah they’re really pretty

Y/NN🔥🔥💕😘😇: she’ll really like them

You:

thanks 🙌

Okay don’t look at him like that. He had to save face! He feels bad as soon as he spews the lie out, but then he remembers the way his heart dropped to his ass at the sight of Y/n and Sunghoon hugging, and convinces himself that maybe this was for the best.

What Gunwook doesn’t expect are the two weeks that follow. To describe them in two words: extremely awkward. The following morning, instead of the two taking the train together like they normally do, Gunwook makes up some lame excuse about being late and ends up taking the longer way. They talk during the classes they have together, but it’s all stiff and feels uncomfortable, despite anyone saying anything about it. Going home is the same as the morning was, yet this time it was Y/n who couldn’t make it, saying they had to visit a relative after school.

It was always easy for the two to tell whenever the other was lying, but Gunwook wants to give them the benefit of the doubt, seeing as he wasn’t so truthful himself just recently. When the two do arrive home, there are no texts exchanged or calls that go on for hours on end like usual, and it makes Gunwook uneasy, but the feeling of being rejected without actually being rejected was more prominent in that moment, so he left it alone.

He didn’t know that the lack of communication on both ends would lead to them not talking at all, though! It didn’t help that he’d see them talking with Sunghoon again in the hallway only two days later, rubbing a reassuring hand along their arm, which then prompts him to talk with Eunchae during the period he knows he shares with Y/n. That day is what really set the tone for the rest of the week, he thinks; no calls or texts, passing each other through the hallways, and going home together came to a dead end. All the little things that made Gunwook not absolutely hate school were taken away from him, and he feels it’s partially his fault which made it suck even more.

It took his friends, including his seniors, only two days to realize that something was wrong, which is what’s prompted Hanbin to lecture him every chance he gets for the past two weeks.

“Well maybe you should text them anyway. I bet they miss you just as much as you miss them, right Seunghan?”

There’s absolutely no way Seunghan was listening in, seeing as he doesn’t answer til five seconds later when Hanbin clears his throat. “Oh! Yes, definitely.”

“What are you even here for.”

“Emotional support? I don’t know man, I just wanted to play Fortnite.”

“Seunghan.”

Seunghan whines at the disapproving tone of Hanbin’s voice, not sure how he got roped into being scolded alongside Gunwook. Hanbin’s just that good, he guesses.

“Ugh okay fine. Not gonna lie Gunwook, seeing you two not talking is really depressing, for all of us, and honestly super unsettling. Just tell them how you feel and maybe don’t lie to your crush about having a crush who isn’t actually your crush. How’d I do Hanbin?”

“Absolutely terrible. Please log off.”

Before Seunghan can defend himself against what Hanbin identifies as Useless Senior Syndrome™, there’s a steady knock coming from the front door, successfully getting Gunwook out of the lecturing. “Thanks guys, but I have to go.”

The two can barely bid their goodbyes before Gunwook is logging off, scurrying down the steps as the knocking increases in speed.

“I’m coming!” he half-screams. He knows it isn’t his mom because she always has her keys, so it’s okay that he raised his voice a bit. He honestly thinks it’s Yujin from next door, most likely wanting to borrow Gunwook’s switch again after he miraculously submerged his own into water. He swears to God if he doesn’t return it back on time again—

Oh. This isn’t Yujin.

What stood in front of him held waves of familiarity: one being the navy blue leather-skinned wallet he’d gotten gifted by a relative a while back, the one that’s been home to his ultra rare Twicecoaster Lane 1 devil Nayeon photocard for years now— and the other being the person he’s gotten to know over the past seven years, who’s favorite foods he’s mastered and whose voice he can point out in a room full of thousands. The one who sits through the same old episodes of ‘Haikyuu!!’ with him, despite already seeing them multiple times. His best friend, who he hasn’t talked to in over two weeks, over his own fears and insecurities, is now at his front doorstep with his wallet in their hand, face unreadable to Gunwook for the first time since they’ve met.

“You forgot your wallet in Ms. Chwe’s class.”

Ms.Chwe’s class; the last period that they share with each other, where he was too busy trying to avoid Y/n’s gaze so in turn chatted up anyone who’d listen, not paying enough attention to the wallet that was falling out of his front pocket. Gunwook can’t even feel relieved that his most prized possession is safe, nor can he think of a way to make it anyone else’s fault at the moment given that his (ex?) best friend, who he hasn’t even glanced at in 14 days, is standing at his door with it in hand.

‘What am I supposed to even say?’ The silence that follows after still isn’t as embarrassing as that cursed Wednesday two weeks ago, so he tried to avoid saying anything that may exceed that level. “Thanks… okay bye.”

Okay what the fuck was that. He almost slams his head against the door, but he thankfully doesn’t have to dwell on it for too long, as they’re speaking before he knows it.

“You seriously don’t wanna talk about this?” They say, and Gunwook doesn’t know why it shocks him— they’d always been the confrontational type when needed.

“What do you wanna talk about?” He thinks it’s a pretty valid question, given that they could be referring to multiple things, but Y/n apparently doesn’t think so, if the roll of their eyes were anything to go by.

“You can’t be serious. About how you’ve been ignoring me for the longest!”

“Wha- only because you’ve been ignoring me!”

“That’s what most people do when someone’s been ignoring them first, dumbass.”

Gunwook huffs, he almost forgot how stubborn the both of them could be. “This is going nowhere. Just- come inside.” He gives up, decides to be the bigger person and let them in, not wanting their first interaction in so long to be an argument outside his door. Also because Yujin can be quite the creep and likes to instigate arguments from his bedroom window (he knows this because they’ve done it together).

They make themselves comfortable on the couch best associated with movie nights and hot cocoa during winter break, sitting on opposite ends. The air feels stale, and Gunwook feels like he has to say something before he can let the silence linger any longer. “D’you want some wate-”

“What did I do to you?” he’s cut off, the voice quieter prior to it outside. They turn to face Gunwook with hands gripping both knees reassuringly and— are they crying? “I mean, I’ve been trying to figure it out for so long, but I can't think of anything. Was it the flowers? Did she not like them?”

Gunwook wants to wipe off the face of the Earth. Not only were they crying, but they were kind enough to consider the feelings of others while nursing their own, successfully breaking his heart, while also making him feel unfathomably shitty.

He’s by their side in less than a second, not quite sure what to do with his hands as he lets out a stream of ‘no no no’ and ‘please don’t cry’. They won’t even look at him this time either, opting out to facing the wall in front of them instead. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/n.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

Gunwook sighs, finally deciding to rest his hands on his thighs. “I’m going to tell you, but you have to tell me why you were too, okay?” He asks and they nod almost immediately. “And you can’t laugh either. Seriously, I will kick you out.”

“I’ll walk out myself if you don’t spit it out already.” They attempt to say it threateningly, but they’re pouting and Gunwook hates how cute he finds it, considering their current circumstances.

“Okay I was getting there,” He can’t help the snark remark, and he half blames it on the fact that he’s about to do the thing that he never got to two weeks ago: confess his undying love for his best friend of over seven years to said best friend. Folding his hands atop his legs, Gunwook takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a split second before opening them as he exhales.

“Those flowers weren’t for anyone but you.” He’s not facing them, he absolutely cannot right now, instead focusing his gaze on his now sweaty hands, but he still hears the hitch in their breathing— it’s as clear as day. “I was going to give them to you, tell you about my feelings, but then I saw you with fucking Sunghoon, and I- I don’t know. I just felt so embarrassed and stupid and angry, so I came up with that stupid lie,” He finally finds the courage to face them, looking up to find their eyes already on him. “I’m sorry.”

Silence follows, and Gunwook fully expects it, but fuck was it agonizing. His face is practically on fire and he doesn’t want to break eye contact because he wants to ‘assert male dominance’ or whatever the hell Eunseok was going on about that one time he gave advice absolutely no one asked for, but it’s getting harder as the seconds go by and he just might explode right where he sits.

“Gunwook. You’re not gonna believe this but I was talking to Sunghoon about you,” Oh thank God they broke the silence— but what did they say? “I wanted to know if it’d make things weird between you and him if I asked you out or something, since you two are on the same dance team. I was also asking for advice on how to do it, since I’ve never asked anyone out before. I was going to the day after, but then you said you wanted to confess to Eunchae and I got really upset, I didn’t want to see your face at all.”

It’s now Gunwook’s turn to stare in silence, his previous anxious feeling replaced with one that screamed ‘what the fuck is happening I can’t believe this is happening right now’.

“What.” It’s all he can manage to say at the moment— if he felt stupid before, it’s definitely hitting harder this time around. He was avoiding his crush (who also has a crush on him, apparently?!), his best friend, all over nothing. His cheeks are becoming hot again and he feels like crying.

In classic Gunwook fashion, he does the most rational thing he can think of at the moment and bows his head beside their lap, clasping his hands in front of it as he lets out streams of ‘I’m sorry’, catching them completely off guard.

“Get up! It’s fine Gunwook, seriously." They reassure him, but he doesn’t dare get up from his position, only raising his head ever so slightly. “You still like me? Even though I lied to you and made you cry?”

They seem to find humor in his current predicament, giggling as they move a hand to pat his head. “I shed one tear. And dude, I lied too. I’m sorry as well, I was just scared.” It’s said with earnest, and Gunwook can feel it through their gaze once he finally gains the courage to lift himself up, his confidence fully restored. “Okay if we’re gonna date, you cannot call me dude anymore.”

“Is this you asking me out for real this time?” A hint of amusement makes its way onto their face, lolling their head to the side as they ask.”

“Yes. Wait no.” The switch up visibly confuses them, even more so when Gunwook gets up from his seat, instructing them to ‘wait here’ as he runs to the kitchen, coming back with a single flower. “My mom wouldn’t let them go to waste. They’re in a vase and she’ll kill me if I take all of them.”

They laugh, both because Gunwook was so so sweet and because his mom really would kill him. “Will you go out with me?” He knows it’s short, but he could tell them all the things he likes about them over takeout, and he really wants to kiss them right now.

“That was lackluster,” They say as they snatch the flower from their hands, but their actions are words are laced with playfulness, and they contradict themselves when they move to embrace him in a warm hug. “But yes, since you asked so nicely.”

Gunwook almost shoves them away if it weren’t for how intimate the current moment was. He’s glad they can still play around after spending so much time apart from each other. “Shut up! I just wanted to kiss you already. Wait, would that be weird?”

They look up, contemplating it for a second before they look back at him with a shrug. “I don’t know, but you can give me a kiss on the cheek. The one that isn’t wet.”

He takes takes that as a win, holding their damp cheek in favor of landing a peck on the opposite. Then another on their forehead. And another on the same cheek, but in a different place. It soon turns to him showering them with kisses all over, causing them to fall back on the cushions as they begin to laugh, taking Gunwook down with them as he refuses to stop. “Gunwook! I said one!”

He doesn’t even have the mind to grace them with an answer as he joins them in laughter, too overjoyed and buoyant with that fact that he’s now free from many things; free from hiding his feelings, from his insecurities now that their feelings were laid bare and are mutual, and free from pretending that he was okay letting his best friend falls into the hands of another. He no longer has to worry about any of that though, as they’re right where he wants them, where he deems perfect.

The cafeteria is booming as always, Gunwook and his friends (seniors and same-age mates alike) already seated at their table as they await the arrival of a few others. None of them say anything about the way Gunwook and Y/n are holding hands under the table, but there are definitely shared glances exchanged between Hanbin and Seunghan.

It’s only been two days since Gunwook’s actual successful confession, and they still have yet to say it outright, so they’ve just decided to let everyone come to their own conclusions. He thinks they’re on the right track though, with the way they shot him a thumbs up from across the table.

“Y/n!” It’s yelled from behind them, making the entire table, if not the whole cafeteria turn their heads to the source of the noise. Gunwook wishes he could say he was surprised as to who it was.

Eunseok practically tackles Y/n with the force in which he runs to their side, engulfing them in a hug from behind. “I thought I was gonna lose you! Don’t tell Gunwook, but you’ve always been my favorite junior.”

“I’m right here.”

“Shut up dont ruin this for me.”

a/n: we all know gunwook would be a communication king but i wanted to write this anyway. and guys i promise i can write things other than love confessions gimme like two weeks!!! also recs are open likes + reblogs are always appreciated ty baii

[beardedmrbean]

A loyal dog that refused to leave his dead owner's side helped solve her murder by allowing detectives to identify her body, prosecutors said.

Mandy Rose Reynolds, 26, was shot before her body was “burned beyond recognition” in a field fire in Robinson, Texas. Police found her on April 5, 2023, the McLennan County District Attorney’s Office said in a release.

Her cousin Derek Daigneault, 29, of Wichita, Kansas, was sentenced to life in prison Thursday for her murder after an investigation that spanned two states, the DA's office said.

And one of the keys to identifying her was her white-haired labradoodle, Titan.

Police found Titan near her body, barking "frantically." He refused to leave the area and wouldn't allow police to capture him, prosecutors said.

The next morning, the body was removed, but a passerby found Titan sitting at the same spot. The good Samaritan called Robinson Animal Control, which found that Titan was microchipped and belonged to Reynolds.

“The keys to this case were a heroic and loyal dog named Titan and extraordinary cooperation between law enforcement agencies in multiple jurisdictions and states. That combination has delivered justice for Mandy and safety from a violent and dangerous criminal,” Assistant District Attorneys Ryan Calvert and Alyssa Killin said in a statement.

Robinson police then learned that Reynolds lived in San Marcos, Texas. San Marcos police were contacted and went to her home but found it empty, with all her possessions removed and her black Honda Accord missing, the news release said.

A license plate database revealed that the car was somewhere in Wichita.

Wichita police were alerted, and on April 8, 2023, they spotted her vehicle and tried to pull it over.

Daigneault was behind the wheel, and the stop attempt ended in a chase that lasted nearly 30 minutes and reached speeds of over 100 mph.

The Accord ultimately crashed into another vehicle, and Daigneault ran away into a nearby grocery store, where “he hid on a shelf behind canned goods,” the DA's office said.

Police found a .380 handgun in the driver’s seat floorboard when they searched Reynolds’ car in Wichita.

Meanwhile, back in Robinson, police determined that the body had been burned in a large plastic storage container, and they found a fired .380 shell casing that was burned inside the container, the release said.

Surveillance video from a Walmart in San Marcos showed Daigneault buying a large plastic storage container identical to the one Reynolds’ boy was burned in, a shovel and a gas can on the morning of April 4, 2023. Video also showed him leaving the store in Reynolds’ car and Titan sticking his head out the window.

The medical examiner eventually formally identified the body as Reynolds’ through dental records. It was determined she died from a gunshot wound to the head, and a .380 bullet was recovered from her remains.

The Texas Department of Public Safety crime lab confirmed the bullet found in her body and the shell casing found by Robinson police were both fired by the handgun in Daigneault's possession, the DA's office said.

Jason P. Darling, an attorney for Daigneault, said Tuesday: “Derek is obviously disappointed in the verdict and sentence. While we appreciate the jury’s work and effort in this case, Derek intends to appeal the verdict and has already filed his notice of appeal.”

As for Titan, the pup was adopted by Reynolds' best friend days after Reynolds died. Calvert told NBC News on Tuesday, "He is doing great!"

[midnightfantasiez]

Invitation | Jacob Bae

SUMMARY: never would you have thought to have instantly clicked with the one and only idol Jacob Bae, within a short period. when he finally invites you to take a further step in your relationship with one another, how could you possibly refuse?

PAIRING: idol Jacob x afab! reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: french kissing, pet names, oral (afab! reader receiving), fingering (afab! reader receiving), p in v sex, protected sex (we cheered), man's doing it from behind

WORD COUNT: 2,354

A/N: @zzoguri this was written for you 😚 i hope you like it 🥺

It has been a couple of weeks since your mutual friends introduced you both to one another.

You were in your final years in college and had little to no connections to many boys in your life. You were the type to always hide in the library or the quiet reading rooms scattered throughout campus, wanting to avoid indulging in all of the parties or chaos around you. With that, you were definitely not a regular on the college’s party scene. Attending frat parties or clubs would be the last thing you want to do on a Friday night, choosing to snuggle up in bed with your favourite snacks and drinks while watching your favourite TV shows. 

Naturally, your friends were starting to worry about your love life—convinced that you wouldn’t be able to find someone even until graduation came in a year. Hence, they decided to be good samaritans and tried their best to find one that would suit your type to the best of their abilities. 

Your close group of friends knew how you’ve always had a soft spot for music, and it’s something that you have always been passionate about besides the current course you were taking in college. It was probably pure luck when one of your buddies was mutual friends with an actual idol from one of the most famous boy bands of the year.

Given your personality, she was convinced that you and Jacob Bae were a perfect match with one another. Thanks to her luck, she secured a few tickets for you to attend their ongoing concert—The Boyz 2nd World Tour: Zeneration. 

Wishing that she would finally shut up about meddling with your love life, you decided to give it a go and went to the first day of the concert. Unbeknownst to you, you start taking interest in the man himself. 

It was the way he presented himself on stage—the way his body moved according to the rhythm and vibe of each song perfectly, his harmonious voice that suited each of the songs from the setlist, not to mention the outfits he was given to wear (especially during the opening where he wore a see-through shirt with his hair all slicked back good lord). 

When you finally got to meet him in person backstage after the concert, he was a man you would fall for and would immediately be listed down in your “men whom I surprisingly approve of and will trust with the rest of my life” book.

He was so calm and friendly that he could break off the ice between you two even though you’ve just met, and it was how you were engaged in every conversation you’ve had with him. You definitely were a little upset when they had to call it a night as they had to prepare for the upcoming concerts for the rest of the week. But he managed to grab a few more tickets for you and your friends so that you could come again during the tour's encore and final day. 

Fast forward to the present day, you were at the backstage waiting for the rest of the members to arrive. It took about 10 minutes before all 11 members came down to thank all the staff and visit all the guests that had arrived to support them on their final day. It took a while for Jacob to finally make his way towards you, but when he did, he absolutely couldn’t leave your side in the slightest bit. 

Something in the air made both of you seemingly attracted to one another, even though you had just met for the second time. It was as if you both were drawn to each other, wanting to know more and deepen the relationship you both have created. 

He gently grabs hold of one of your hands into his, caressing it before opening his mouth to suggest the plans for the rest of the day. 

“Say, there is this really nice restaurant not too far from here that I occasionally dine in whenever I feel for a candlelight dinner. Care to join me for the night?” He asked in such a sweet way, how could you say no?

Without much hesitation, you quickly nodded your head before he made some arrangements to inform his managers and your friends that you both would make a quick dinner and that he would bring you back home safely by the end of the night. 

Seeing this as a sign, your friends immediately encouraged you to take up the offer, convinced that this would be the start of a spark to happen between you two. 

For the first time in a while, you actually agreed with your friends on this for once.

It was a rather fancy restaurant that had the Parisian vibes to it. You could tell how it would be a place where idols would occasionally indulge after a long day of work, especially when they have just finished a concert tour. 

Jacob, being the kind gentlemen that he was, ensured that you’ve always felt comfortable and would bring up a variety of topics to talk about—which you deeply appreciated because gradually, he was slowly pulling out from your bubble, getting you to open up to him more. 

You were glad that you weren’t the only one who showed interest in the other party. Otherwise, it would’ve been an awkward one-sided relationship. There was just something about you that drew in him, and he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was either. All he knew was that he was desperate to try to get to know you better, and eventually, he definitely thought about taking a step further in the relationship you both have now. 

The dinner went on smoothly and he offered to pay for the meal at the end, much to your disagreement. 

A gentleman should always pay on the first date, no? 

Those words lingered in your mind, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

As you both exited the restaurant, he somehow volunteered to be your chauffeur, clearly wanting to keep you as long as he could to himself. 

“If you are free for the night, would you like to come over to my place?” 

“Woah, Jacob. Aren’t you taking this a little too far? What makes you think I’d return to your place that quickly?” You joked. 

“What if I said I have got the best liquor saved just for you, some good music to vibe to, a comfy sofa and a cosy atmosphere to indulge you for the night? Would you agree to my proposal?” 

Now that was tempting. Given both of your similar interests in music (and good liquor), it was very hard to reject the man’s offer. You knew that it should be a red flag for someone to invite you back to their comfort place that quickly, especially when you two are just friends at the moment, nothing else. 

But somehow, you just couldn’t turn down his offer. In fact, you wanted to know more about him too. 

In return, you smiled back at him while taking a step closer so that you were mere centimetres apart from each other’s faces. 

“That is a yes in my books.”

One thing led to another, and you both began feeling tipsy. And before you knew it, you were both kissing one another on the sofa. 

You were both finishing up the last drop of the liquor bottle that Jacob owned among his stash of wines and when you both looked into each other’s eyes, you knew that you were far too gone to even think rationally at this point. 

Jacob bent down his face to yours in slow motion, and within seconds you felt his hot mouth infused with the sweet wine he had just consumed earlier all over your mouth. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he then slipped his hands down to the curve of your sides to rest on your hips as he drew you in. You didn’t expect how much of a prodigy he was with his tongue, casually slipping and wrapping itself onto yours. 

God, this whole session was causing you to lose your breath, your pants getting more visible as the minutes passed. Jacob noticed how much you enjoyed it and proposed a better idea. 

“Won’t you—crawl up in my bed—with me.” He asked in between the kisses. 

“What makes you—think that I would agree with that?” You asked while trying to catch your breath.

“For one, you would be cosy up in the sheets and I’ll make you feel good and care for you. Will you accept the invitation?” 

If you did, you already knew where this was going. Having sex when technically this was only your second time meeting one another? It would be absolute insanity. 

But you were already deep in this whole situation and ready to let loose for the night. 

“Show me what you’ve got then.” You challenged the male. 

Immediately, he carried you into his room and laid you down gently on his comfy sheets. He slowly undressed you, only leaving your underwear on as you laid your stomach down on the sheets. 

“Relax, baby. Let me take care of you, hmm?” 

Accepting his proposal, you laid your head on your arms and crossed them on the sheets.

Closing your eyes, you start to hear how he has walked behind you, undressing himself before slowly climbing onto the bed with you. 

Instantly, he bent down and began to fidget with your core, slowly rubbing it, earning a soft moan that escaped your mouth. 

“Does it feel good, baby?” 

You nodded your head and he knew he could proceed onwards with his care. He slowly increased his speed before finally coming into contact with his mouth upon your core, kissing and sucking them.

“Mmmh… yes… keep going, Jacob.” Your moans sounded so sweet to his ears, and that was when he knew his care was effective after all. It was then he decided to insert two of his fingers into your core while he continued to suck on it simultaneously. 

God, you were on cloud nine. It just felt so sickly good. 

“M-more… Jacob… please… don’t stop.” Purely on instinct, you decided to spread open your legs more to give him access to your entrance. And how you’d actually wish him to finger you deeper within. 

It went on for a few more minutes before you both knew you were about to reach your high. Jacob gives you the consent to cumming around his fingertips, and that was exactly what you did when you released your sweet love juice around his fingers. He takes them out from your core before placing them into his mouth, savouring them all without leaving a single drop. 

“God, you taste so f*cking good.” 

Just when you thought he was done, he opened up one of the drawers by his bedside to reveal a condom that he was about to place over his member. He asked you for your consent first to see if you were willing actually to do the deed with him. 

“What makes you think I would say no after you literally just made me cum?” 

He smirked. “That’s what I like to hear.” 

Once he was done adjusting his member to the entrance of your core, he slowly pushed in as he climbed further up onto your back so that he was hovering over you completely now. 

“God, Y/N. You’re so tight for me.” 

“Then do your magic and help me loosen up, sweetheart.” You whined, already wanting him to go fast on you. 

“Such an impatient one, aren’t you?” 

With your consent, he instantly picked up his speed and went as fast as you would’ve preferred. There is nothing about going slow and gradually picking up his pace whatsoever. He grabs both of your hips and pounds into you continuously, checking up on you ever so often by leaning in to kiss you on your forehead. 

You just looked so goddamn attractive to him at the moment. Your bareback, the way your long brown hair flowed down onto your back, and god, your moans. He swears he would definitely record them down so that he could listen to them all day at all times if he has to. 

Especially when he needs that motivation right before heading up on stage before a performance. 

 “J-Jacob… I’m cumming…” You mewled. 

“Cum for me then, baby. Do it with me.” He groaned.

With a few more powerful thrusts, you both reach your highs simultaneously and instantly release your juices together. He slowly pulls out his member from you and lays beside you as he reconnects his lips with yours. 

“Our connection is something else, don’t you think? Perhaps we are really meant for one another.” Jacob announced, making himself clear while he was still panting from the intense workout. 

“Gee, I had no idea you were this obsessed with me. What makes you think I’m special in your eyes?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to attend another day of the concert and take you out to dinner if I weren’t interested in you.”

You both burst out in laughter before reconnecting your lips once again. But it all came to a halt when you suddenly realised how you had forgotten to keep your friends updated about the night, surely you have to return home sooner or later-

“Why don’t you stay over for the night? At least stay with me till the sun rises.” Jacob proposed, which, to be fair, was valid—you were in no shape to be able to walk normally after that intense session you both have just done. 

“I can’t. My friends would worry about me.” 

“Hmm. I think I could fix that.” 

He gently takes your phone from you while having your consent to type out the message that he would send to the mutual friend you’ve both had.

🍐: change of plans, i’m keeping Y/N with me for the night. fyi, we’re more than just friends at this point. 

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @zzoguri (join my perm taglist here!)

[medieval-elephants]

Smile! You are in a bestiary! This particular bestiary-- possibly made in Lincoln-- has been influencing authors and artists for about 800 years. It was the subject of a facsimile by M.R. James (yes, that M.R. James the ghost story writer, who was a librarian in his day job). It was then translated by T. H. White (yes, that T. H. White, the author of The Once and Future King which inspired both Walt Disney and the creators of the musical Camelot).

The text on the elephant covers a lot of elephant myths and legends (and some historical kernels). It starts by announcing that elephants do not like to copulate, then covers their name,

"People say that it is called an Elephant by the Greeks on account of its size: you see, a mountain is called "eliphio" in Greek. In the Indies, however, it is known by the name "barus" because of its voice-- whence both the voice is called baritone and the tusks are called "ivor" [ebur in Latin]." ~T.H. White (trans. and ed.), The Book of Beasts: Being a Translation from a Latin Bestiary of the Twelfth Century (Parallel Press: Madison, Wisconsin, 1954; reprinted 2002), p. 25.

The text then goes on to discuss elephants' size, use in Indian and Persian armies, memory, fear of mice, gestation time, and support for each other. The text also notes that they never "quarrel with their wives" not commit adultery, while explaining Christian allegories about snakes as Satan and elephants as representing Christians, Adam and Eve, the Old Testament, 12 Apostles, Jesus, and the Good Samaritan. With such a repository of elephant lore, no wonder this book has inspired authors through the centuries.

Date: start of the 13th century (c. 1220?) Origin: England (Lincoln[shire]?) Now Cambridge University Library, MS Ii.4.26, f. 7r

[surfsnap]

Billy doesn't understand why Steve won't pay attention to him at Tina's party. He's done everything right, and... nothing.

Whenever he tries to make eye contact with Steve, the other boy is sucking his girlfriend's face.

I can't be here. 

So, what does he do instead? He gulps down every red cup he can get his hands on until his vision is blurry, and the ground below him starts to sway. 

“Rough night?” 

Billy blinks, trying to make out the face of the owner of the low, weary voice. All he knows for sure is that it’s coming from a boy, and the stranger’s hands are empty. “S...sober at a p-party? Not... having... f-fun?” 

“Nah, it’s not my scene.” 

“Th-then whyyyyyy... are you here?”

“My friend Nancy wanted me to get out of the house. Said I was “starting to blend in with my mom’s wallpaper”.” 

“Na-nancy?”

“She’s here with Steve Harrington. Do you know him?”

I wish I did. 

His silence is apparently a sufficient answer. 

“He’s not worth you drinking yourself into a coma, ya know.” 

“S... not why...” 

“Man, you don’t look too good.”

“Pop...popular opinion, t’night,” he sniffles, jerking a shaking thumb in Harrington’s direction. Here he goes, pouring the tip of his heart out to a stranger. Great. 

“What? No, no, I meant you look like you’re gonna pass out.” 

Just as he says that, Billy falls forward, only to find that this guy has stopped him from kissing the carpet. 

“I gotcha. You’re not gonna fall.”

“Gotta... go... home.” 

“You’re in no condition to drive, dude. I can... take you upstairs?” 

“Gonna make me... forget Harrington?”

“No! God, no.” 

You really shoulda let me fall. 

“I’ll help you up the stairs so you can get rest, okay?” 

Bullshit. At the least you’re gonna rob me. 

The next thing he knows, he’s being tucked into a bed, and he can hear his “good Samaritan” talking. 

“Your name’s Billy. I remember you from school. Steve just... isn’t worth the trouble, trust me.” 

“‘S my fault. I... really thought... I was good enough.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

“Not that my opinion should matter all that much to you, but I think you’re a pretty great guy, and you deserve better.”

“Better than- K-king Steve?” 

“Definitely.” 

Right before Billy falls asleep, he swears he hears, “If only you’d see... I’m right here. You’re enough for me, you just don’t know it yet.” 

But that’s probably just the alcohol mixed with wishful thinking. 

**

For you bby @freakyocean

[altocat]

Do you think we’re actually gonna make it to the reactor in the demo or will it stop after that monster fight??

(I will love the former :p)

I'm not sure. We know it will likely be from the truck ride up to the reactor guardian. I'm not sure if they'll go beyond that, though I'd like them to! Nibelheim is basically all of the first chapter so it's possible we'll get to see all of Seph's madness tomorrow! Plus Jenova! And (probably not) Genesis? And cute Zack-Cloud! SAEDRFGHFD IT's gonna be great.

Heads up--I don't own a PS5 so I won't be able to play the demo. I'll have to wait until someone uploads to yt. So if there's any good samaritans that are able to get the content when it comes out, pretty please send it my way? Even just DESCRIBING it will be nice until the actual footage arrives. Otherwise I'm gonna be a twitching mess waiting around lmao You have my sincerest gratitude.

[insidemyfavoritemanuscript]

Episode 14: Aaron Macks on medieval calendars, the beauty of simplicity, and manuscripts as data

In Episode 14 of Inside My Favorite Manuscript, Dot chats with Aaron Macks about Harvard University, Houghton MS Typ 213, a gorgeous book of hours written and illustrated in Italy towards the end of the 15th century. We talk about the scribe and artist, the illuminations, the calendar, and discuss the practicalities of working with manuscripts as data.

Listen here, or wherever you find your podcasts.

Below the cut are more photos and links to the shows and books we mention during our conversation. Unless otherwise noted, the photos were taken by Aaron.

Record for MS Typ 213 in Harvard's Hollis catalogue

MS Typ 213 in the Harvard Library Image Viewer (incomplete, only eight pages are digitized)

MS Typ 213 in hand, so you can get a sense of its size (pretty small, but check out the gilt on that binding):

Comparing the section written earlier with the section written later (f. 13r and f. 87r):

Stub of dyed parchment (note the slice in the neighboring page from when the dyed page was cut out):

Example of dyed parchment page: Folio 7v from the Rossano Gospels, the Good Samaritan.

Gothic medieval book of hours, Annunciation to the Shepherds (Philadelphia Museum of Art 1945-65-5, p. 147):

Start of Terce (f. 33r; photo from online):

Start of the Office of the Dead (f. 92r):

Start of the Office of the Holy Cross (f. 133r):

The Annunciation (f. 143r)

Prayers added at the end in a gothic script (f. 171v):

More of the prayers in the gothic script (ff. 178v-179r):

The Calendar (ff. 1v-2r):

[boygiwrites]

Living the Vida Loca  P.3

• Jesse Pinkman & Reader. (Platonic)

(Here’s part one.) (Here’s part two.) (Here’s part four.) (Here’s part five.) (Here’s the epilogue.)

• (Find this story on Ao3.)

Summary — A short story about how a young teenaged girl gets wrapped up in Jesse's life.

Notes — I just started Better Call Saul the other day, which is pretty great timing!

.

The Saul Goodman Experience.

Saul Goodman looks exactly like his park bench advertisements.

He's got that sleezy, good-samaritan smile and an electric blue suit on the first time you meet him.

He pulls up next to you in a white Cadillac DeVille as you're skating home from school, and at first, you think he's a pedo.

Hey, kiddo, He enthuses, rings glinting, What say you and me take a ri—

You tell him you know people who will beat him purple and leave him in the desert to rot.

Namely; Jesse.

And Walt now, too, you suppose.

He huffs, aghast, and tells you he knows dangerous people, too, so don't you be getting smart with me, missy.

You ask him who he is.

He says he's Saul Goodman.

You ask him, as in the bench guy?

Choking on his pride, he admits, yes, as in the bench guy.

And, just to be safe; You're not a pedo, are you?

He splutters like you've just thrown hot coffe on him. No!

He recites your sort-of-dad's full name to prove his legitimacy, and tells you Jesse even gave him a password.

Two plus nine equals, he recites, before he blanks and has to cite his phone. Two plus nine equals zero.

He snaps the phone shut.

Whatever the Hell that means, he shrugs.

It's the exact order of the plastic number magnets on your fridge at home.

You guess he's not a creep.

You gues he really does know Jesse.

Should you get in the car?

Saul sing-songs that he has two burritoes in the car to entice you to get in.

You open the door.

Attagirl, Saul exclaims.

He starts asking you which one you want, and explaining the differences in sauces, and how he wasn't sure if you wanted it cut in half or not—

Then he's yelling at you to come back, because you just walked off with one of them.

You continue skating home.

You're in enough trouble as it is with Jesse.

You're not getting in that car with that psycho-loser.

Hey, you little shit, come back!

Get in the car!

I'm supposed to be driving you to my office!

Your Dad told me to!

I got exact, specific instructions, young lady!

Oh, you're a real treat, aren't you?

Hey!

Hello?

That has jalapenos in it, you know! So! Enjoy having your tongue burnt off!

The car crawls alongside you the whole way home.

You block out his incessant complaining.

The burrito isn't too shabby.

Too many jalapenos, though.

The first thing Saul Goodman tells you when you return to an empty house is, I told you so.

Because he's one of those guys.

See? Your Daddy isn't here, Saul enunciates sassily, Can we go now?

Saul's office is hideous.

It smells like mothballs and, well, burritos.

He catches you up to speed.

Apparently Jesse and Walter are out in the middle of nowhere, cooking meth and getting sunburnt, and Jesse used the last of his cell phone reception to make sure Saul kept you safe for the weekend. Apparently, Jesse wants you to know that if he comes back and you haven't finished your English assignment, there's gonna be no TV for a month. Apparently, they ran out of water two days ago. Apparently, they're going to die. Oh, and Walter says hi.

When Saul's halfway through the grand tour of his office, describing his bobble heads in great detail, you make a beeline for the door.

The sun is angry today.

The sky is an ocean above you.

You speedwalk through the parking lot, and you can hear Saul shouting after you.

You reach a payphone.

You slip a quarter into the machine.

You dial Jesse's number.

It flatlines.

You do it again.

It flatlines.

It flatlines.

It flatlines.

You begin to shake.

Your fucking... English assignment?

He's dying out in the desert and he told you to do your fucking English assignment.

You ram the phone into the metal keypad and pretend it's Jesse's face.

Then you remember the last time you saw Jesse's face, which was four whole days ago.

And you sink to the ground.

Saul leans against the plastic wall of the payphone and cringes politely as you weep into your hands.

They'll be back, kiddo, He tries. And in the mean time, you got your old Uncle Saul, huh?

The machine spits out your coins.

They bounce off your head and roll onto the road.

You hear Saul cringe again.

Your non-negotiable sleepover with Saul Goodman goes like this.

For an hour, you sit on the floor of his office as he tries to engage you in his many useless self care products. There's the cucumber jelly face masks, the anti-wrinkle serums, the nose hair trimmers, the fruit scented moisturizers, and the vibrating foot bath. When his assisstant knocks on the door, he calls her a miserable party pooper, threatens to fire her, and insists that the purple lip scrub really brings out your eyes.

After the first day, you begin to acclimate to Saul's terrible jokes, eye-watering cologne, and flashy personality.

He feeds you Mexican food, Chinese food, Thai food, and his microwave special; chicken noode soup.

He takes you to the local playground, and supervises from one of his benches.

He takes you for mani-pedis, and falls alseep in the chair.

He takes you to an arcade place, and throws tantrums when he loses at pacman.

He makes Huell and Kuby wash your clothes at the nearest laundromat.

At night, you watch movies on the waiting room TV, loot the vending machine for salted nuts and marshmallow trailmix, and doodle on all his important yellow notepads while he does paperwork at his desk.

Before bed, he gives you a surprisingly genuine pep talk about Jesse returning any day now.

You take the left couch.

He takes the right couch.

He snores like a troll.

In the mornings, he oversees the progress of your English assignment, which he pretends to understand.

Uhh... Wow. I really like this part. 'Hyperbolic diction'. Wow.

Do you even know what that means?

Uhh... Yep.

Whenever he has clients, you have to sit in his car and read magazines. He's got an air freshner of his own face hanging from the rearview mirror.

At least three times a day, you try calling Jesse from the payphone.

You skateboard around the parking lot, and grafitti the building's alleyway.

When Saul finds out you've been hustling his clientele on the down-low for money, he turns red and puts you in time out like you're five. Then, fifteen minutes later once your legs have gone numb, he returns with a water bottle for you and admits you're a top knotch scammer.

You make a pact not to tell Jesse about it.

On the last night, which falls on a Tuesday, he tells you his real name as you're both brushing your teeth in the staff room kitchen.

Jimmy McGill, he splutters around his foamy mouthfull.

You laugh all your toothpaste onto the floor.

You best stick to Saul, Saul.

The whole ordeal is pretty unique.

On Wesnesday, Jesse calls.

Having Saul in the mix.

Saul becomes like an uncle to you.

His business with Walter and Jesse always keeps him close by, so you see him almost every other day.

He's someone you can gossip with as he drives you to school, he's someone you can trust to keep a secret from Jesse, and he's someone who will always, without fail, manage to bail you out of whatever pickle you've gotten yourself into this time.

(Fist fights at school.)

He and Jesse often take you out for ice cream at the mall, and they talk business while you eat.

He lets you crash at his office whenever things get too heated at home.

He has a might as well attitude when it comes to buying you things, which means if he's buying a new burner phone, he buys you one, too, and if he's buying Chinese for dinner, he'll get you some too, and leave it on your porch.

He treats the kids that pick on you at school like gnats that piss him off.

He gives you many more surprisingly heartfelt pep talks about whatever's on your mind.

He tries convincing you to talk to Jesse, but you don't listen.

He stocks the vending machine with more marshmallow trail mix, just for you.

And most importantly...

He lets you scam his clients for money, so long as you give him ten percent of the earnings.

Because hey;

Birds of a feather flock together.

Actually, make that fifteen percent.

.

End Notes — Let me know what you think!

[deans-baby-momma]

All I Want 2

A/N: So here's the 2nd and final part to this. I had this stuck in my head after listening to Heart's "All I Want to do is Make Love to You". I have always loved this song. (I'm probably telling my age huh?") Anyway, hope you enjoy!

It was like a dream, a hallucination, something made up in his mind that he dreamed of even when he was awake. If it wasn’t for the note hidden away in his wallet, he would have thought he’d imagined it all.

That night all those years ago, when his vehicle had betrayed him and broke down on the side of some desolate backroad on his returnhome. It had been in the middle of a spring storm and the weather was atrocious. He had been soaked to the core the minute he stepped out of his beloved car and began walking.

A good samaritan, a woman, had stopped and gave him a lift into the next town where she proceeded to share her room with him. When, even after taking off the drenched clothing, he still couldn’t get warm, she invited him into her bed.

One thing led to another and to this day, he still thinks of that night fondly. Reminisces about making love to her, how her body welcomed him in and accepted him without question. It was quite frankly, the best night of his life. 

When he woke the next morning, alone, he felt distressed and depressed. She was gone, he didn’t even know her name. But he did find the note on the hotel stationary once he was up and dressed in his damp clothes again. He cherishes that little piece of her he has left. No one, not even his family, knows about it or her. She is his secret. 

SEVEN YEARS LATER

“So get this-” his brother says as he walks into the room with his laptop open in his hands. “-there are some unknown disappearances in…”

He looks up and listens to his brother tell him about the case and in an hour they are on the road, heading to take care of whatever issue awaits in some quaint little town.

Upon arriving, they find a hotel quickly and get settled in to do some research…. or, one of them does research while the other trolls the area and finds a bar to get a quick drink and relax before the big show.  His brother is the geek of the family and is always up to do study the facts while he goes for a drink

The bartender flirts with him as she refills his drink and he flirts back.

“So, what’s a beauty like you working behind a bar in this one-horse town?”

“It’s only temporary,” she tells him as she sits the glass on the bar in front of him. “As soon as I’m done with college, I’m out of here. Frankly, it’s getting quite creepy here. My cousin has had some unexplained things happen to her.”

“Like what?” he asks, perking up at maybe getting a closer explanation of what they’re there to hunt.

“I don’t know. I can’t really explain it,” the bartender says with a shrug. “Things go missing and then when they’re found, it’s in a place they should never have been to begin with.”

“Like what?”

“Okay, so she and her husband run this place off of 95, a store if you will. One day they open up only to find the register missing. Not like just  the money inside it but the whole damn thing! And you know where they find it?”

When he shakes his head, she continues. “On the playground! Like, it’s just sitting there under the slide. I mean, sure someone could’ve broken in and stolen it but why leave it there? And get this, the money was still inside it, untouched.”

“That is weird,” he admits. “Interesting, but weird. Anything else happen around here?”

“The alarm at the bank goes off every evening around 8. They close at 5 so no one should be inside and when the cops look around, there’s no sign of a break-in and the doors are all locked up tight.”

“Do you think I could speak to your cousin?” he asks and smiles as the bartender scribbles down the name and address to her cousin’s place.

He pulls into the lot of the bartender’s cousin’s store and looks out the windshield. It’s just a shack with a roof and four walls with a big open sign on the door. Through the windows he can see plants on shelves and other plant-based items.

Walking inside, the bell over the door rings and he walks forward toward the makeshift counter with the recovered register. He looks around casually as he waits for someone to come ‘help’ him. 

As soon as she steps out,his breath hitches and his heart skips. It’s the good samaritan from all those years ago; the woman who has starred in more of his dreams than he can count. He’d recognize her anywhere and from the way she stops in her tracks and her eyes widen, she recognizes him too.

“What are you doing here?” she asks in a whisper as she approaches the counter. She looks around and toward where she just came from. Is she nervous? 

“Uh,” he stammers, not really knowing what to say. “I hear you’ve been having some issues…”

Before he could explain his appearance any further, a little girl with light brown hair pulled up into pigtails came bounding up to the woman in front of him.

“Mommy, can I have more pretzels?”

The woman looks down lovingly at the child and smiles. “Holly, I’m with someone. Just give me a minute okay?”

The little girl looks over the counter at the man and once again his breath is stolen from his lungs. She has the same green eyes as he does, down to the exact shape. She smiles at him and he can see she has a tooth right in front missing. It makes him grin.

As soon as the kid skips away and back into the other room, he looks at her mother. “Is she…..mine?”

The woman nods. “Listen. I know you’re probably upset. Let me explain. Please, please understand, I'm in love with another man and what he couldn't give me was the one little thing that you did.”

“We made a baby that night?” he asks, letting the words permeate his brain. “And you just left? Why?”

“I was and am a married woman. I have a good heart and couldn’t let you stay out there in the rain. And then leave you with no place to stay when the hotel didn’t have any extra rooms. I didn’t expect to have sex with you that night or get pregnant.  It just happened. I came back and continued living my life as I had been. Six weeks later, the test turned positive. I knew he couldn’t have kids so I chalked it up to fate. I was made to find you, sleep with you, have your baby. He loves her as much as if she was his own. Please don’t take that away from him, or me. Please just keep my secret?”

He contemplates what she told him. Could he walk away from this place? The town his daughter lives in? The town his dream woman lives in? He thinks about his family and what they do for a living, about the dangers of his life and how that could come back and bite him in the ass if he were to acknowledge the little girl, who is the spitting image of himself. 

With a heavy heart and a sigh, he nods. “She’s better off not knowing me or what I do,” he admits. “I’m glad I gave you what you needed though.”

“Thanks, uh….I never even asked you for your name.”

“Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Second A/N: Law & Love will hopefully be back next week.

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @brownbearhusky @purpleeclipseeggsland

[foreverdreamsds]

Meet our precious new residents Mabel, Duke and Mr Clarence. Mabel found herself in a shelter in South Carolina in pretty rough shape. She is in need of a dental and diagnosed with CHF. Duke was surrendered to a South Carolina shelter due to owners no longer able to care for him. Duke had was at a grooming appointment a year ago when hi was dropped by the groomer. Since then he has lost the use of his back legs. He is in need of X-rays and other diagnostics to determine if he will gain use his legs again. Mr Clarence was found as a stray by a Good Samaritan and turned into a shelter in Chapel Hill NC. He is in rough shape. His hair was matted, severe arthritis in his hips and back legs and no teeth. He is in need of bloodwork and other medical attention to help him feel as best as possible. We need to raise $3000 for their current medical needs! You may donate via the fundraiser on this post, using Venmo or PayPal or mail a check. Please make sure to use “Mabel” “Duke” “Mr Clarence” in the note section of Venmo, PayPal or your check. You can use our link tree for easy access to our Venmo and PayPal by clicking here, https://linktr.ee/foreverdreamsds Our mailing address: Forever Dream Senior Dog Sanctuary PO Box 521 Tryon, NC 28782 https://www.instagram.com/p/CqQaNVyum6o/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[monsterilf]

Side Two, Round Two begins April 1st at 4 PM CST!

And that's no joke!

The Mothman (American Folklore) hypnotized Blaidd (Elden Ring) into submission. He will fight Nightcrawler (X-Men), who displaced She-Hulk (Marvel's Avengers).

Ultros (Final Fantasy) sprayed Entoma Vasilissa Zeta (Overlord) with ink. He will face Asterius (Hades), who chopped up The Predator (Predator).

Next up is Alex Mercer (Prototype), who slashed Lady Ilganyag (Unsounded). He will do battle with Pythor P. Chumsworth, who swallowed He-Who-Meddles (Endless Legend) whole. (And the person who submitted Pythor thought they were being cringe! Not feeling so "cringe" now, I hope.)

The final matchup for Round Two features Hellboy (Hellboy), who shot Shelob (The Lord of the Rings) with his gun Good Samaritan. He'll be up against Bowser (Super Mario), who backhanded Astos (Final Fantasy Origin: Strangers of Paradise).

Best of luck to our MonsterILFs! Show your support by Following, Reblogging, and Sending Propaganda in my Asks!

--Beauty

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

15th November >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Luke 17:11-19 for Wednesday, Thirty Second Week in Ordinary Time: ‘One of them turned back praising God’.

Wednesday, Thirty Second Week in Ordinary Time

Gospel (Except USA) Luke 17:11-19 No-one has come back to praise God, only this foreigner.

On the way to Jerusalem Jesus travelled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered one of the villages, ten lepers came to meet him. They stood some way off and called to him, ‘Jesus! Master! Take pity on us.’ When he saw them he said, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’ Now as they were going away they were cleansed. Finding himself cured, one of them turned back praising God at the top of his voice and threw himself at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. The man was a Samaritan. This made Jesus say, ‘Were not all ten made clean? The other nine, where are they? It seems that no one has come back to give praise to God, except this foreigner.’ And he said to the man, ‘Stand up and go on your way. Your faith has saved you.’

Gospel (USA) Luke 17:11-19 Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?

As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem, he traveled through Samaria and Galilee. As he was entering a village, ten lepers met him. They stood at a distance from him and raised their voice, saying, “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!” And when he saw them, he said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” As they were going they were cleansed. And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. He was a Samaritan. Jesus said in reply, “Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” Then he said to him, “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you.”

Reflections (3)

(i) Wednesday, Thirty Second Week in Ordinary Time

I have often been struck by the phrase in the gospel reading, ‘one of them turned back praising God’. Of the ten lepers that were healed by Jesus, only one ‘turned back’ to Jesus, a Samaritan. That ‘turning back’ was the outward expression of something very important that was happening within him, a readiness to look beyond the gift of his healing, towards God, the source of his healing, whom he recognized as powerfully at work through Jesus. There is a sense in which we all need to stop ourselves in our tracks like the Samaritan, and turn back to acknowledge the ways that God has blessed us, and give thanks and praise to God for all we have received. So much of what is good in our lives has been given to us. The most significant people in our lives have been given to us; they came to us as gifts. We discover in ourselves certain abilities. We may have worked to develop them, but they were given to us initially. The faith that brings us together at the Eucharist has been given to us. The community of believers where we meet the Lord in a special way has been given to us. We are a graced people and the most appropriate response to being graced is praise and thanksgiving. Very often our prayer is one of petition; we easily identify with the prayer of the lepers, ‘Jesus! Master! Take pity on us’. We regularly pray some version of that prayer, as we come before the Lord in our need. It was the Samaritan alone who moved beyond the prayer of petition, who ‘turned back, praising God’. It was only the Samaritan who threw himself at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. We too need to keep turning back to give praise and thanks to the Lord, because we are continually being graced by him, even in those times when life is a real struggle. The Eucharist is one of the Lord’s great gifts to us, and our gathering for Mass is a special opportunity to turn back towards the Lord in praise and thanksgiving.

And/Or

(ii) Wednesday, Thirty Second Week in Ordinary Time

In today’s gospel reading, ten lepers approached Jesus crying out to him, ‘Jesus, Master!’ Take pity on us’. Jesus responded to their desperate plight and healed them of their leprosy. However, only one, a Samaritan, came back to praise God and to thank Jesus. The unexpected gift of good health distracted the other nine so that they forgot about Jesus and failed in the normal human courtesy of returning to thank him for their cure. Only one of the ten, a Samaritan, turned towards God present in Jesus in sickness and in health; the other nine turned towards him only in sickness and forgot about him in health. Sometimes God’s greatest gifts to us can separate us from God. We can be so focused on the gift that we forget the source of the gift. It is only to the Samaritan that Jesus says, ‘Your faith as saved you’. Whereas all ten received the gift of physical health, he alone received the gift of salvation, which is the fruit of faith, a relationship with God that is alive and vital in health as well as in sickness. It is the outsider, the despised Samaritan, who teaches us the importance of valuing God at all times in and through all his gifts.

And/Or

(iii) Wednesday, Thirty Second Week in Ordinary Time

We have all been graced in various ways; we have all received a great deal as a gift. We don’t always recognize that the ultimate source of all these graces and gifts is God. That is what distinguished the Samaritan leper from the other nine in this morning’s gospel reading. All ten were equally graced; they had all been healed by Jesus of a disease that left them only half-alive. Yet, it is said of only one of them that, finding himself cured, he ‘turned back praising God at the top of his voice’. He threw himself at the feet of Jesus and thanked him because he recognized that God was working through Jesus. He thanked Jesus, but he praised God. He had the insight to see that God was at work in gift of healing he received from Jesus. Jesus recognized this leper’s insight; he didn’t say, ‘nobody has come back to thank me, except this foreigner’, but ‘no one has come back to give praise to God, except this foreigner’. That is why Jesus goes on to say to him, ‘your faith has saved you’. This leper had the vision of faith; he recognized God at work in the good that had happened to him, in the extraordinary way he had been graced. We are called to that same vision of faith; we are called to recognize and to acknowledge God at work in all those experiences of grace that bless us throughout our lives. God’s grace calls forth our praise.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

[cyarskaren52]

https://www.instagram.com/p/CsMgiXWPu1O/

🤬🤬🤬And so it begins. ⁣

⁣

1. Daniel Penny, after choking a tiny Black man to death, is being made into a conservative white superhero. They LOVE a white man that inflicts pain like this. ⁣

⁣

2. It is borderline Biblical blasphemy to call this man “A Good Samaritan.” That Biblical story is about a man who was nearly beaten to death, and left to die by religious people, only to eventually be cared for and taken in by kind and gentle people.⁣

⁣

Let me be clear. ⁣

⁣

ZERO Good Samaritans were present when Jordan Neely was choked to death. ZERO. ⁣

⁣

3. I have to say it because it keeps getting lost here. ⁣

⁣

Jordan Neely TOUCHED NOBODY. ⁣

⁣

The only person who made this physical was the white man who killed him.

Raising $1,300,000 for Daniel Penny is a publicly sponsored lynching.

It’s communal celebration, like taking home a picture of the tree and like a kink as if it a masturbatory ads

Apparently the things that are heavenly are worthy of hell and the things that are worthy of hell are heavenly at least according the white right wing Christian

It’s okay as a white person to choke a black homeless man with mental issues to death but how dare you offer compassion to that man .

If empathy is a sin to you fake “Christian” then I’m going to hell then in your eyes cause your “Christian love “ is really an act of devilish hatred in disguise

[polarfarina]

So today I had a customer ask me where the port wine flavored spreadable cheese was. This is an understandable question because 1) they keep it hidden in a corner by the salsa (weird place) and 2) the entire store is being renovated and everything is fucking ass-backwards. Nobody can find anything. I can't even find anything. BUT. I do know where the port wine flavored spreadable cheese is. So I show it to this customer and he goes "oh thank you! I never would have found it" and I say no problem, they're always hiding things from us huh, we laugh, I go back to work. I hear him say "this is EXACTLY what I was looking for..." to himself, which just gives me an extra emotional boost. I helped him and he appreciated it. Nice. Okay anyway back to being timed on how fast I can collect 130 items from a disorganized list. P

Five minutes later this lady picks up a credit card off the ground and hands it to me, she's like "hey uhhhh" and I say "oh that's important thank you!" And my immediate thought is: that port wine cheese guy. He must have dropped his card. He was right here a few minutes ago... and I look around and I see him, clear on the other end of the store (which is huge btw, a SUPERSTORE, I get like 15k steps on average per shift here), but I know where he is so I powerwalk as fast as I can without running into pedestrians, worrying about the job I'm supposed to be doing, worrying if it's not his card, basically worrying in general the whole way there. Usually it would take about 5 minutes at a relatively leisurely place to walk this far but I clear it in less than a minute thirty seconds. And I rush over to him, as he's looking down the gardening aisles, and I ask him, "is this your card??" I'm very out of breath at this point btw.

And he takes it and he goes "well, that's not my name, but... let me double check that I have mine anyway" and he takes his own out and it's the SAME BRAND OF CARD. No wonder he wanted to check. But of course the one on the ground was not his. So then he asks me, "what will you do with it?" And I tell him that I'll take it to customer service, we have a lost and found there. I just wanted to check if it was his because I'd rather hand it directly to whoever owns it than hand it off to another stranger. But it'll be okay.

And this man looks at me with this really strong kindness in his eyes. He says, "what a Good Samaritan you are! Thank you so much for putting in all this effort to find the owner of this card!" And idk. I just looked at him and I saw he meant it. For the first time in a long time someone genuinely expressed their gratitude to me at work.

And then I ran off to cross the store once again, to take it to customer service. The front end manager took it with a simple "thanks" and turned away before I could say anything back. Back into reality....

[lilith-vodkaaunt-of-demons]

Maybe it's the circles I run in, but I haven't really seen a whole lot of Substance Use Disorder and Addiction discourse here on tumblr, but I have seen it on other websites, and it's straight up D-E-P-R-E-S-S-I-N-G. Like, I just recent saw a video of a woman using Naloxone on someone who was obviously ODing from an Opiod substance, probably fentanyl, and the number of people in that comment section saying she should have let him die and basically just treating the guy like a literal piece of garbage was heartbreaking.

SUD/Addiction is a Societal Problem, not a moral issue, and should be treated as such. It's been proven several times that if drug use is treated as a social/medical issue, and not a moral one, people seek out help so much more, and that's not even getting into possible genetic factors for addiction.

Seriously, this kind of thing is amazing, and the only sad part is that something like this should be being run by the government, not just good samaritans. This kind of thing needs funding, and support, and all that good stuff that Governments are SUPPOSED to do.

But until such a time as our government gets off it's ass and actually does it's jobs, kudos to the people that run this, and I hope you get the funds and support you deserve!

Ending the stigma of drug use will save lives.