#Oil of the Good Samaritan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orange-demons · 1 month

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Luke s. x bimbo!fem!reader

not a luke girlie, but I think out of everyone in street fighter 6. he's the only one to fully appreciate a bimbo gf.

When Luke first sees you, you were being harassed by a couple of thugs near his gym.

And of course, being an outstanding samaritan and having a chance to impress himself in front of a hot girl, he did what anyone would do and kicked their asses.

After he scared them off he went to check if you were fine. To which you wrapped your arms around him to thank him.

That’s how you met.

He likes to show off in front of you, whether in the arena or on the streets.

He also spoils you rotten, that Louis Vuitton purse you were eyeing, purchased. The Dior lip oil that was out of stock, yours. That cute mini skirt you pointed through the window, now lies in your wardrobe.

Luke loves it when you cling on his arm, it really strokes his ego.

When you told him you had a dog named Cupcake he fully expected a tiny spoiled chihuahua. The type that's way too pampered to move. Not a 100lb Rottweiler who serves as your attack dog. She scared the hell out of him when he first came over.

She's fiercely protective of you and only you, so she doesn’t take a liking to Luke no matter how much he tries.

You like to see if your new lipstick is smudge-proof by kissing him. You would sit on his lap and pepper his face with kisses, not like he’s complaining.

You insisted on wearing matching lockets, so Luke keeps his on the chain holding his dog tags.

You made it a point to have your picture on one side and his on the other. So when you closed it, you both would be kissing.

Well...at least that's what you said.

Every time he enters a tournament before he goes into the ring, he kisses his locket good luck.

He’s the type of guy to say wear what you want, I can fight.

But if he notices someone who can’t take their eyes off of your low-cut top, he’ll pull you closer by your waist.

You randomly asked him one day how it feels to be put in a headlock, because you saw him do it to one of his students when you went to visit him at the gym. So he decided to give you a demonstration.

His forearms weren't tight enough to restrict your airflow, but you could definitely feel your cheeks squish and your lips puckering. Maybe dying like this wasn't too bad.

Luke laughs at you for liking this too much.

You like to show him the cute charms on your nails every time you get them done.

One time when you both were making out, you noticed one of your gel nails was broken, and that was the only thing you could focus on for the next hour, despite him whining for you to keep kissing him.

He knows you don’t like it when he tries to hug you when he’s all sweaty because you don’t want his sweat to get on your outfit.

but he still does it anyway even after you push him away.

He's never cared much about the latest fashion trends or the makeup drops from famous influencers, but he’ll allow himself to be dragged to the mall if you beg him enough.

He’ll hold all your bags with no complaints.

He definitely gives you princess treatment. Like massaging your legs when your feet hurt from wearing heels all day, or even paying for all your shopping expenses when you refuse.

When you come home from a successful haul you're always eager to show him. And he will tell you which ones he likes the best.

He says to give him a little twirl.

You complain to him about how much you don’t want pizza because he eats it all the time.

Every time Luke is able to customize a character in game, he makes them look like you.

He does his best to have them adopt your style and mannerisms.

Luke knows he doesn’t need to protect you 24/7 because you’re capable of handling yourself, but he still wants to teach you a couple of moves in case something does happen.

He taunts you a bit so you can pack more to your punch.

And let me say, you have a mean, right hook. Knocked Luke in his jaw.

He actually thought it was pretty hot, especially when you were fussing over him.

When you guys travel, he gets to relax in your pink car. The seats are lined with fur and filled to the brim with stuffed animals. Fuzzy dice hanging from your rearview mirror and snacks in the hidden compartments of the car.

He makes you drive because he can’t see through the gaps in the plushies like you do and gets too distracted by them.

You text constantly since you both have different routines. But you mostly send pics of yourself when you're in dressing rooms.

You: [sent pic] Does this skirt make my butt look big?

Luke: I think you should go shorter.

So you do.

Playing co-op with this guy is easy for you. Mostly because he’s good enough to carry both of you through an entire game.

It’s different if you're competitive, because he is too. So he won’t let you win so easily.

But if you decide to opt-out, he’ll sit on the floor while you passively braid his hair. You even stick a couple of hair clips in his hair with small charms on them.

As much as you love Luke, you hate sleeping over his house. He doesn’t have anything to eat in his fridge other than protein shakes and red meat.

And showering was a different story. Body scrubs, lotions, scented shampoos, and conditioners are nowhere to be seen. You have to tuff it out with the 3 in 1 men’s shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

But you do like snuggling with him in bed because he gives the best hugs, so you guess you can deal with it.

love potions (feat. princess paparazzi)

#street fighter 6 x reader #street fighter x reader #street fighter #luke sullivan x reader #luke x reader #luke sullivan #street fighter luke #street fighter luke sullivan #street fighter luke x reader #street fighter luke sullivan x reader #sf #sf6 #sf x reader #sf6 x reader #x bimbo!reader #bimbo reader

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gyuzgrl · 2 months

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the sounds you make IIbskII

summary- Seungkwan's been working too hard these days. Your innocent plan to ease his aches and pains takes a heated turn when you find yourself growing aroused by the sounds he makes under you.

You didn't mean for things to unfold like this. Truly.

It had been an hour since Seungkwan got off work. An hour since you noticed how tired he looked. An hour since you sweetly proposed giving him a massage.

He rejected the offer initially, not wanting to tire you out over nothing, but after your endless pestering, he caved.

You should've known then, that feeling up a beautiful man late at night, with soft r&b playing in the background, was bound to get you feeling some kind of way.

Ever the good Samaritan, you did your best to make him feel good. You lit candles, put on soft music, brought out your favourite massage oils- really pulled out all the stops. He was precious to you. Of course you'd do this for your sweet boyfriend.

"bedroom-turned-private spa," you grinned, kneeling on the bed, "not bad huh?"

"not bad at all, sweetheart" His eyes widened as he looked around the room, taken aback just a little by how much effort you'd put in. "where d'ya want me?"

"bed, silly"

Seungkwan complied, wordlessly. He whisked his shirt off and laid on his tummy, sighing when his body sank into the plush mattress.

Straddling his lower back, you rubbed soothing circles into his shoulders, feeling how tense he was. A little massage oil was all you needed to warm up his skin as your hands glided across his broad back with ease.

A knot between his shoulder blades seemed particularly hard, and you pressed down with your thumbs to work it out. Seungkwan groaned against the sheets, voice muffled but still audible to you.

You pushed further, earning a louder response, and you swallowed thickly at the lump settling in your throat.

'this is about Seungkwan, not you. snap out of it.'

"I'm not hurting you, am I kwannie?"

"no baby, you're- you're so doing well, thank you" his voice comes out strained. It reminds of you of how how he sounds when he eases himself into y-

'down girl- you're insatiable, god'

That's pretty much how the next hour goes; with you trying to keep your thoughts at bay as the man under you groans in pleasure, unaware of the effect he has on your poor cunt.

Except he is. Seungkwan is, very much aware of your position. Your sharp inhales, your desperate pants, shallow breaths- he heard it all. And he intended to take full advantage.

"sweetheart," he sighs, "can you do the front too? my chest's still sore from that stupid workout regime Woozi Hyung's put me on"

He gives you the sweetest, most pitiful pout, and your heart twists a little against your ribs. How could you say no to your sweet boy? How could you, when he looked at you so prettily?

You hum, lifting yourself up so he can turn under you, and the sight you're met with has regret coursing through you.

Firm, hardened muscles were one thing, but that face- he was easily one of the prettiest men out there. Especially now, having grown into his features a little more.

You find yourself staring at his face for a little too long, and quickly lower your gaze to his chest. Lathering your hands with some more oil, you coat his skin with the scented fluid, gulping thickly with every sound he makes.

"fuck-" he hisses, biting into his lower lip, "you do this so well, baby"

Involuntarily, your hips roll forward against his own, and your eyes widen, unable to control the way your body reacts to him. His sly smile escapes you in your panic, and you cough to cover up the mishap.

You trail your hands lower, to his stomach- surprisingly toned. When you first saw his torso bare, you couldn't control the gasp that escaped you. Whatever happened to the fluffy, wholesome man you once knew?

"I hurt myself here today, y'know?" he rasps, tilting his head toward a little bruise on his lower abs. You pout, scooting lower to place a soft kiss to the spot.

He shivers.

"hurt myself here too," Seungkwan threads his long fingers through your hair, guiding your face up to his, "right here" He tugs you down to meet his lips, and kisses you slow.

Your lips mold against each other, pushing hungrily against one another's skin, until you pull away- panting.

"what are y-" he interrupts with another kiss, harder than the last. His tongue bullies its way into your mouth, hot breaths enmeshing as he forces your jaw open. "you thought I wouldn't notice?" he pants against your mouth, "how you squirmed with each sound I made?"

His hands ghost over your waist, trailing their way up to your jaw. They cradled your face so perfectly, made you feel so small for fitting in his palms with such ease.

"as much as I loved the massage, I think it's time you let me take care of you, hm? would you like that sweetheart? I bet that poor pussy of yours is aching right now"

You nod desperately, feeling your panties dampen with anticipation.

"words"

"please-"

"you're a smart girl, aren't you? you have such a way with words- such eloquence- look at you now" he pouts in faux sympathy, "poor baby, needs me so bad she can barely speak"

You'd slap him if he said this outside the confines of your bedroom, of course, but now, it sends heat rushing to your pussy and all you can do is nod dumbly.

"s'okay sweetheart, I got you- I'll give you what you need, okay angel?"

He tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare above him, and sits up against the headboard. "wanna ride my thigh, baby? hm? wanna cum on my thigh and make a mess on my sweatpants?"

You whimper out a small "yes please" and Seungkwan lifts you onto his thigh, hands gripping your waist.

"y'know what to do angel, follow my hands- fuck, just like that" He rolls your body forward, forcing you down onto his thigh, and finally you feel a sense of relief.

A moan slips past your lips when your clit meets the textured surface of his sweatpants, the sudden stimulation sending jolts of electricity up your back.

"f-fuck-"

He tenses his thigh, dragging your body back and forth, as his name falls from your lips like it's all you know. Like he's all you know.

Your moans get louder and he knows you're close. Altruistic as ever, he bounces his leg- for your pleasure, of course- and pushes you down harder against his solid muscle.

"I'm- oh my god- cumming, I'm cu-" you moan, cutting yourself off when your vision turns white. Seungkwan eases you through your orgasm, making sure you ride your high, and places a peck on the seam of your mouth.

"that's it, that's my girl," he praises, one hand leaving your hip to stroke your hair, "so good for me, aren't you?"

"mhm- all for you kwannie"

"think you can gimme one more?"

"yes," you breathe, smoothing your hands over his chest.

In one swift motion, Seungkwan flips you over, now hovering above you. He kisses you again, tracing his way down to your sex, placing wet pecks to your lips, your jaw, your breasts, and your tummy, before he reaches where you need him most.

His eyes flutter closed as he takes in the scent of you, savoring the way you smell with no shame. It makes you shy.

"kwanniee," you whine, closing your legs, "that's embarrassing"

"is it, sweetheart? don't get shy on me now, c'mon" His hands grip your inner thighs and push them open, reveling at the sight of your pretty pussy- soaked and glistening for him.

He lowers his mouth to you, tongue fiddling with your clit before lapping up the remnants of your arousal, and your body jolts up at the contact.

"nuh uh- you're gonna hold still for me," he warns, splaying one hand across your belly to push you back down. "fuck you taste like heaven"

"shut up" you whine. Seungkwan cocks a brow at you.

"can't eat you out with my mouth closed, sweetheart" He plunges his tongue into your cunt and you cry out, hands threading through his hair to hold him steady. "see baby? you like my mouth open- like when i fuck you with it"

The wet muscle pushes into you over and over, and you feel your orgasm build. Seungkwan's hand dips from your belly, to your clit, and he presses down on the hardened nub, rolling it under the pad of his thumb.

"oh my fucki- oh my god, please- please don't stop"

You writhe under him- limbs shaking, hips jerking forward- and in a flash, you feel your stomach uncoil, relief flooding your system like a warm breeze.

"good fucking girl," Seungkwan mumbles into your thigh, "cumming all over my face making those pretty sounds,"

Your chest heaves, breathing evidently unsteady. Seungkwan crawls back up to you, placing his lips on yours so you can taste how sweet you are. You moan into the kiss, grabbing his face, pulling him closer.

This was going to be a long night.

#seventeen smut #smut #svt smut #seungkwan #seungkwan smut #boo seungkwan #thigh riding #boo seungkwan thigh supremacy #he's so yummy i want to cry #lowkey feel like he's the most bf coded out of all the members #dom!kwan agenda

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dutch-and-flemish-painters · 11 months

Photo

Nicolaes Roosendael - The good Samaritan heals the traveller - 1665

oil on canvas, height: 162.5 cm (63.9 in) Edit this at Wikidata; width: 144 cm (56.6 in)

Frans Hals Museum, Haarlem, the Netherlands

Nicolaas Roosendael (1634, Hoorn – 1686, Amsterdam), was a Dutch Golden Age painter.

#Nicolaas Roosendael #golden age #Amsterdam #Italy #biblical

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two-red-lungs · 1 year

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Pick Your Poison

Paul/Fem!Reader

Content: Slow burn, stoner!Paul, he’s the Drugs Guy and I love him, unresolved tension, the Lost Boys are SO toxic

Word Count: 2.9k

The neon sign in Saigon Soul’s window hummed, luminous and red, casting vermillion’s feather-soft hue across the rapidly cooling colors of the night. The last rays of the sun had faded less than an hour ago: but as soon as they did, like clockwork, your new favorite entertainment emerged. Just like he did every night. A reverse Cinderella.

Red looked good on Paul. It haloed his product-stiff blonde mane in a ruby glow and glittered like pomegranate seeds in a marching line down his gilded row of medallions. Turned his off-white eyes and teeth pink, too. He huffed, smacking his lips obnoxiously in an effort to puff away the heat of his extra-spicy beef noodle pho, flapping his hands about. The piles of bracelets on his wrists jangled.

“Fuck me, man. That’s good.” He said in his usual laid-back, loose tone after a gulp of iced tea from his flimsy paper cup.

“Mmm.” You hummed and picked up a heavy shrimp spring roll with your chopsticks. Maybe it was the thick seaside summer air, or the heavenly deep-fried smells that wafted your way every time the narrow restaurant door opened, but the damn things smelled amazing. “Told ya. This place is a total hole in the wall but their food’s primo.”

“Uh-huh.” He sucked pepper oil off the pad of his thumb and scratched his stubbly cheek contemplatively. Even like this, reeking of sweat and looking like a cat got lost in his hair somewhere, he was so beautiful it was almost ridiculous. Damn those baby blues. “My man Dwayne’s gonna dig on this stuff. He’s one bona fide heat fiend. Eats the fuckin, the… the uh…” He snapped his fingers a few times, brows furrowed in utmost stupefied contemplation. “The little spoons, with the red powder on top, you know—”

“Tamarind candy?”

His face lit up like the sun. Jesus Christ. That smile was a flashbang, a dynamite stick, a stun baton. Made you go all stupid. “Yeah! Yeah, man, the tamarind candy! Gotta get him some of that stuff.”

You looked down at your paper plate of food and worried at the inside of your lip with your teeth. Somewhere down the street dance music was playing. Car lights ghosted over your and your dinnermate, lighting up the strangers that walked by on the sidewalk next to you. It was by all means a perfect night: balmy wind and the distant sound of the boardwalk rides on the air. But Paul bringing up his brother… it sent an uneasy sensation down your spine and you couldn’t quite pin down why.

Paul had stumbled into your life three weeks ago, completely drunk on the beach. You’d been a good samaritan: held his hair back while he puked, tossed him a bottle of water while he reeled and slurred out that his brothers had dumped his ass for being too intoxicated. But the whole while, he grinned. Like he could enjoy anything. Like no matter what situation life put him in, he’d find some way to have fun.

He sat by your little bonfire in the grassy dunes and you chatted. You showed him some of your stick-n-poke tats and he’d insisted on getting one himself. And (in a decidedly less good samaritan way) you’d given him one, india ink blackening your fingers and his inner arm skin cold under your fingers. And that’s how you’d gotten to know him, how you’d continued to know him over the last collection of days. Alone, just him. His weird, easily-distractible, impulsive, entertaining self. He mentioned he had three brothers, once or twice, and you took it in stride.

Then you’d seen him with them.

He was like an entirely different person.

Across the sea of beach boardwalk heads you’d spotted him. But it didn’t feel like him. He sat lazily up on a railing surrounded by equally eccentric young men, and they watched the crowd like tigers. Like mad kings looking down on their kingdom. A beautiful young woman passed and they all jeered, whooping and whistling and clapping: even Paul. With an aggression and odd hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before. They all moved in tandem, like wolves, wordlessly communicating in a way that made your skin crawl.

You left.

Now he was Paul again tonight: just Paul, the Paul you knew and hoped to god was the real version. The guy who couldn’t talk and chew gum to save his life. The guy who declared a thumb war with you and proceeded to lose six times in a row. The guy who delighted in rocking the sky-glider that slowly trundled over the pier until you were shrieking and clinging to his coat.

Either way, real Paul or not, you were glad you’d yet to meet his family.

The blonde stretched, yawned, and hopped out of his seat, digging a hand into his dingy riding pants pocket. When you moved to counter, pulling your wallet out of your bag, he uh-uhed you and flapped his own leather-bound one in your face. “Not a chance, girl. Paulie’s good for it.”

You raised your brows. As far as you knew, he was a surf bum with a penchant for partying. No way was he holding down a nine to five to pay for dinner.

Paul scoffed at your look. “I got a freebie from a real charitable dude.” He flashed the corner of a hundred at you and stuck out his tongue with a smile before wrestling two fives out of his cash-thick wallet.

“Uh-huh. Someone just… handed you what, looks like… six hundred bucks?”

“He didn’t need ‘em anymore.” Paul didn’t even watch his wallet fall, he just dropped it to the table, flattening the bills to presentability with his fingers. “Try not to miss me, ‘kay?” In a whirl of pungent sea salt and old-timey coattails he was inside the little eatery, the bell on the poster-covered door jingling.

You idly scratched at the hem of his leather wallet with your thumb nail while you waited. Real charitable dude, huh? You weren’t stupid. Paul was a street fiend. Ran trades and exchanges from the pockets sewn inside his coat with practiced ease, like he was born to sell ditchweed and glass-cut coke to summer-break college students. No doubt that’s where the money came from. Hell, the way he was standing around with his brothers… you wouldn’t be surprised if they were his suppliers.

Something crunched under the edge of your nail. You brought your thumb to your face. There was a line of red, deep and nearby brown, trapped between the keratin and your skin. Dirt, obviously.

It was dirt.

Had to be dirt.

Like a category three hurricane, Paul was back, and before you knew it you were on your feet and moseying down the bustling town avenue. One of his long, lithe arms was draped almost crushingly over your shoulder, holding you to his side. He jingled with every footfall. Golden strands of hair blustered in the corner of your vision and you felt his ribs, pressed against your side, swell and contract with a contented sigh.

Two could play at that overconfident, wild-child game. With a little effort you extracted a pinned arm and shoved it under his coat, grabbing his waist over his mesh top and holding him much in the same way he held you as you jaunted down the avenue. He threw his head back and laughed, his stride never wavering.

“You kinda got guts, girl.” He cackled into the coastal breeze.

“So, Paulie.” You ignored his needling, crossing the crosswalk and ambling past seemingly endless pizzerias and cinemas and smoke shops. “Level with your good, kind, very honest and transparent friend. How many acid tabs did you sling to get that sorta funding?”

Paule shook your shoulder with a strong hand. “Wasn’t lyin’ to you, c’mon. I really did get that green for free.” The walk sign nearby turned from stop to go and you crossed another street. “Me and my brothers, we got ways, y’know? Not gonna be strapped for cash any time soon.”

Sometimes, when Paul looked at you just right, you thought your damn heart was gonna beat out of your chest. Like he saw right through the bullshit into your soul. But other times, times like now, you realized just how little you actually knew the guy.

“I got ‘bout an hour before I gotta jet, girl.” Paul started talking again and you blinked: you’d arrived in front of the bulb-studded Casino Arcade arched entrance at the boardwalk without even noticing it. When you looked up at him, he was already looking down at you, eyes crinkled in kiddish mischief. “You down for a puff ‘n play?”

“Just an hour?” You mockingly pouted, extracting yourself from him and crossing your arms broodingly in the small ever-flowing crowd of young adults going in and out of the noisy arcade. “Geez, Paul. What am I, a time-killer till you can go have real fun?”

He laughed and there was a bark to it. “If you could handle real fun I’d take you with me.” A little of his usual spaced-out bliss receded. “But I, uh. Don’t really think the guys would appreciate a plus one at our… parties.”

“Wow.” You deadpanned. “Not vague and condescending at all.” With a conceding huff you punched his shoulder playfully, making his body rock like an inflatable car-sale mascot. “Fine, blondie. I’m game.” Paul was grinning from ear to ear and dragged you by the sleeve off to the underside of the pier, fishing around in his inside pockets. “But none of that skunkweed, you hear me? And if I kick your butt at Speedway again you gotta gimme your ring like you promised last time!”

He stopped short so quickly you nearly collided with his tall, narrow back. Paul whirled around. “Yeah? What do I get if I win?”

You were very acutely aware of how close he was standing, nearly chest-to-chest, and how the shadow-painted back side of the arcade by the barnacle-stippled pier was much less crowded than the arcade. You swallowed and his sharp, playful gaze tracked the motion of your throat reflexively. “It’s— augh, um— mystery prize. Can’t tell you what it is till you win. Which you won’t.”

He was silent for a few seconds, sucking on the inside of his cheek. Thinking. Then he grinned. “Alright.” He flicked a lighter across his knuckles and pressed the button down. The little firelight flickered wildly in the turbulent air. “Let’s get toasted.”

Sitting down in the shadow-dark sand between the pier legs, watching him roll a joint right then and there on his narrow knee, you reeled. Sometimes you really couldn’t tell what his deal was. Were you a time-killer? A listening ear? A friend? The way he looked at you, sometimes— it didn’t feel friendly.

If it was good or bad, though… the jury was still out on that one.

So. It wasn’t skunkweed.

It was nice and palatable and bright. Absolutely top-shelf stuff he was handing out to you pro-bono. The world was a delicious blur: arcade lights were multihued and the speaker music was pop-y and completely grooveable. Your skin prickled in the hot interior air: fabric just felt better after a few puffs. And god, Paul was the funniest, weirdest, most oddly endearing beanstalk of a man when he was on the stuff.

He had his forehead pressed so hard to the claw machine it was going to leave a red halo: he beat the side with his fist and howled in breathy, entertained frustration when the wimpy claw let the neon green monkey plush slip from its grasp under your careful joystick management. “Ahh, you dropped it again! Unbelievable!”

“It’s not exactly made to be easy, doofus! I’d like to see you try.” You half-chuckled, half-grumbled, feeding the hungry quarter slot more change. You missed the slot a few times before you succeeded.

Paul reeled back and rounded the machine like a big cat, waving jingly arms. “You’re an amateur, girl. Let a pro show ya how it’s done.”

You assumed he’d push you out of the way: god knows he'd done it before. But no, of course now he decided to act exactly like the Paul you’d come to know. He pressed up behind you, chin tickling the crown of your head, and put a hand over yours on the joystick when the machine popped back to life, revitalized by the loose change. It chirped out a happy eight-bit tune and Paul hummed along to it, guiding the claw around and back. His fingers were cool over yours. You could feel his belt buckle biting into your back over your shirt.

You held very, very still, mouth pressed into a thin line. He jammed the drop button. The claw lowered, clamped over the green monkey, and hauled it over to the prize chute. It dropped it without a hitch: the plush clunked into the deposit receptacle.

Paul’s mouth was behind your ear, cold breath on the shell of it. “See? Pro.”

Then he was gone, crouching like an animal by the chute and wrestling the monkey free, and god you were reeling again: collecting your very high nerves with hands still clutching the sweating joystick plastic.

“What’s my prize?”

“...Huh?”

Paul doubled down, resting his weight against the Blasteroids arcade machine and wiggling the monkey at you. “I won. What’s my mystery prize, hmm?”

You collected yourself enough, finally. At least enough to scoff dismissively. “Please, I basically wiped the floor with you in Speedway and Super Mario—”

“You can’t argue with evidence, girl.” When you lunged to snatch the green ‘evidence’ out of his grip he reached upwards with it, holding it over your head mockingly, a cheshire smile on his face. “Cough it up. I want my prize.”

You jumped for the monkey and it went even higher. Grumbling and hopping and face starting to grow very flushed with an ‘I don’t have a fucking mystery prize’ panic, you rambled and cajoled at him, flipping between wheedling and threatening. It took you about fifteen seconds to realize he was no longer staring down at you, but rather over your head.

“Paul.” A laid-back, low male voice said evenly from behind you.

An icy knot formed in your stomach. You turned, slow as a glacier, and yep, it was exactly what you thought it was. Two of the brothers you’d spied the blonde hanging out with before. The tall, dark, and brooding one, and the peroxide-spiked trench coat model.

The latter lifted his eyebrows at you when he caught you staring. A tight, cold smile graced his lips for a moment before he turned his cutting gaze back to his brother. “Thought we all agreed to be at the statue by ten. We missed you.” His eyes slide back to you. “Who’s your friend?”

You stood as tall as you could in the given circumstances, feeling rather like a park ranger making himself as big as possible to frighten off a bear. An introduction was on the tip of your tongue. It got knocked off of it when Paul abruptly elbowed past you, shoulder-checking you hard enough to offset your balance. When he stood by his brothers, he looked exactly in place. Like he was meant to be there.

He glanced down his nose at you. There was a different sort of smile on his face. An insider smile. One you didn’t feel like was for you. “Just some chick, David. Y’know how it is. Where’s Marko?”

“Scoping out dinner. Probably waiting on us, now.”

“Shit man, then let’s go!” Paul crowed, snapping his fingers and grinning, tongue trapped between his teeth. “I’m starvin’.”

The whole while they talked, the tall, dark-haired one watched you with crossed arms. Taking in the way your face shifted, the confused, hurt pinch in your brow. The pac-man machine illuminated half his face, like a skull of amber-yellow. You caught his eye. The intensity of his gaze forced yours down to the multicolored carpet.

“After you.” David gestured broadly with a gloved hand towards the arcade entrance, and Paul flounced towards it without so much as a goodbye or a sparing glance in your direction, even after an entire evening together. David looked at the dark-haired one. “Dwayne. Time to roll.”

A long-drawn out pause. You refused to look up.

“...Comin’.” Dwayne eventually said. The trio disappeared between arcade machines, tops of their heads barely visible, then vanished into the crowded Santa Carla night.

The green monkey was abandoned on the floor, limbs splayed. You picked it up, its glassy plastic eyes blankly reflecting the arcade lights. Like it was mocking you for being there, alone, after that.

“Fucking asshole.” You breathed in disbelief to yourself. Far more hurt than you thought you’d be. You’d hung out with him for what, six days, tops? Were you even friends? Was he not just some nighttime stranger, a weirdo who emerged from the woodwork to show you a good time once in a while? Paul was good. Paul was fun. He was a fat blunt and a shot of tequila and a roller-coaster ride all wrapped up into one person.

You’d picked him as your poison of preference. It was a good poison. Now you were starting to wonder if you’d picked wrong.

#the lost boys #tlb paul #The Lost Boys 1987 #tlb fanfic #my writing #does this fic go anywhere? no. but i simply wanted to write it #having lots of Paul Thoughts today so

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 5 months

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The Good Samaritan

25 And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, "Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" 26 He said to him, "What is written in the law? How do you read?" 27 And he answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself." 28 And he said to him, "You have answered right; do this, and you will live." 29 But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" 30 Jesus replied, "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was; and when he saw him, he had compassion, 34 and went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; then he set him on his own beast and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, 'Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.' 36 Which of these three, do you think, proved neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?" 37 He said, "The one who showed mercy on him." And Jesus said to him, "Go and do likewise." — Luke 10:25-37 | Revised Standard Version (RSV) Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright © 1946, 1952, and 1971 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. All rights reserved. Cross References: Deuteronomy 6:4-5; Deuteronomy 6:24; Leviticus 18:15; Leviticus 19:18; Isaiah 58:7; Matthew 10:5; Matthew 18:28; Matthew 19:16; Matthew 24:34; Mark 8:34; Luke 9:52; Luke 10:38; Luke 16:15; Luke 18:31; Luke 19:28

#Jesus #parables #the Good Samaritan #love #lesson #neighbor #Luke 10:25-37 #Gospel of Luke #New Testament #RSV #Revised Standard Bible #National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America

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antonio-m · 1 year

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"The Good Samaritan (study)", c.1889 by Ferdinand Hodler (1853–1918). Swiss painter. oil on canvas

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godslove · 3 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲

The Greek word for the spiritual gift of mercy is eleeo. It means to be patient and compassionate toward those who are suffering or afflicted. The concern for the physical as well as spiritual need of those who are hurting is covered by the gift of mercy. Those with this gift have great empathy for others in their trials and sufferings. They are able to come alongside people over extended periods of time and see them through their healing process. They are truly and literally the hands and feet of God to the afflicted.

All Christians are called to be merciful because God has been merciful to us.

³³ “Should you not have had mercy on your fellow servant as I had mercy on you?”

—Matthew 18:33

⁴ “But God is rich in his mercy, and because he had such great love for us, ⁵ He brought us to life with Christ when we were already dead through sin—it is by grace that you have been saved. ⁶ He raised us up in union with Christ Jesus and enthroned us with him in the heavens,”

—Ephesians 2:4-6

The Holy Spirit gives the spiritual gift of mercy to some in the church to love and assist those who are suffering, and walk with them until The Lord allows their burden to be lifted. The gift of mercy is founded in God’s mercy towards us as sinners and is consistently expressed with measurable compassion. Those with this gift are able to:

¹⁵ “Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.”

—Romans 12:15

and

² “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

—Galatians 6:2

They are sensitive to the feelings and circumstances of others and can quickly discern when someone is not doing well. They are typically good listeners and feel the need to simply “be there” for others.

⁸ “...whoever performs acts of mercy should do so cheerfully.”

—Romans 12:8

⁷ “Blessed are the merciful, for they will obtain mercy.”

—Matthew 5:7

³⁰ Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him and beat him, and then went off leaving him half-dead. ³¹ A priest happened to be traveling along that same road, but when he saw him he passed by on the other side. ³² A Levite likewise came to that spot and saw him, but he too passed by on the other side. ³³ “But a Samaritan who was traveling along that road came upon him, and when he saw him he was moved with compassion. ³⁴ He went up to him and bandaged his wounds after having poured oil and wine on them. Then he brought him upon his own animal to an inn and looked after him. ³⁵ “The next day, he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Look after him, and when I return I will repay you for anything more you might spend.’ ³⁶ “Which of those three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” ³⁷He answered, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

—Luke 10:30-37

¹⁷ “However, the wisdom that comes from above is first of all pure, then peaceable, gentle, and considerate, full of mercy and good fruits, without any trace of partiality or hypocrisy.”

—James 3:17

²² “Have compassion for those who are wavering. ²³Save others by snatching them out of the fire. And for still others have compassion mixed with fear, hating even the tunic defiled by their bodies.”

—Jude 22-23.

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jessicalprice · 1 year

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it was about right then and it’s still about right now

(reposted from Twitter)

(Image: a Tweet by @ ErinGreenbean that says: “Most of Jesus’ parables confront the listener with moving away from self-sufficiency/individualism and toward the whole/community.”)

This is literally what like every Jew who reads the parables has been trying to tell you, but y'all keep insisting these stories are about how Judaism is bad.

These are stories from a teacher addressing an audience suffering under a brutal and exploitative occupation and they're literally about "you know how the Torah tells us to take care of each other? if we're gonna survive, we have to do that."

We have a text that uses the language of divine kingship frequently to convey a moral imperative if God is truly your leader, you will follow these laws. Jesus talks about the "kingdom of God" and Christians are like HE IS TALKING ABOUT THE AFTERLIFE.

No, he's fucking talking about a community that existed in his here and now and was suffering and desperate and being militarily and economically and socially pressured to abandon their principles and exploit each other as they were being exploited by the Romans.

And he's reminding them that while the Romans may be occupying them, they don't have to rule them. Resisting hegemony and not letting it reshape you always involves, in a way, creating and choosing to occupy a different reality.

In a society that--to use the language of the time, which I will be upfront that I do NOT like--acknowledges God as king, no one starves unless literally everyone is starving, because there are laws insisting that we share. Like, that's the whole point of every Jewish law touching on economics: what we have, even if it doesn't feel like much, can be enough when we understand that we are enough for each other. That’s there in the lost sheep, coin, and son(s) parables: you don't leave anyone behind.

There's the two men on the road to Jericho: The Samaritans are actually our family. We remembered that once, when they put Jewish prisoners on donkeys and sent them home with wine and oil. We have to take care of each other.

Then the men named above proceeded to take the captives in hand, and with the booty they clothed all the naked among them—they clothed them and shod them and gave them to eat and drink and anointed them and provided donkeys for all who were failing and brought them to Jericho, the city of palms, back to their kinsmen. Then they returned to Samaria. (II Chronicles 28:15)

All of these stories are about remembering that we're supposed to be family and taking care of each other and upholding a society that's an alternative to the hegemonic Roman war machine. And then Christian exegesis is all: how do we make these stories about how being Jewish is bad? We're in a whole different millennium and y'all are still insisting that Judaism was the problem Jesus came to solve.

Jesus tells a trilogy of stories about noticing when you've lost track of someone or something and Christians are like, "This must be a story about how Judaism hates the idea of accepting someone's repentance."

Excuse me while I go build a menorah constructed of middle fingers.

Jesus tells a story about the relationship between two men in the Temple in which the real question is What does each of them do next and what is their responsibility to each other? and Christians are like this is about how the tax collector is good and the Pharisee is bad.

Y'all want so badly to make these stories about an us vs. them when the focus of most of them is just about "how can we do better as an 'us'?"

Like look at the parable of the four fates for seeds--what was actually happening to most of the harvest was that people were taking it, but Jesus puts it in terms of natural phenomena to take focus off that and put it on the hardship itself.

Most of the time, when there is an implied "them" to the "us" he's focused on, he tries to portray it as if it's inevitable/natural/etc.

The focus isn't on "what are they doing to us?"

It's on "what are we doing FOR each other?"

And you know what we know now, what we have terms and framing and concepts for? We know that in the wake of disaster, human beings get really good at caring for each other. We suck at being a society when things are good, but if a monsoon hits? We fucking get to work.

But you know what got documented in heartbreaking detail after the Exxon Valdez spill? When the disaster is human-caused, communities tend to fall apart.

So what's the difference?

Well, we can frame it in terms of human-created versus natural disasters but we can also frame it in terms of the victims' response.

It seems like, if we feel like it wasn't anyone's fault, it was just chance or nature or whatever, we get energized to take care of each other. If, on the other hand, we feel like it was someone's fault, we fracture.

Now, I don't think people around the Mediterranean in the first century CE were thinking in terms of disaster trauma or spontaneous prosocial behavior, but that doesn't mean they weren't thinking about what to focus on when they were suffering.

To be honest, I don't see a consistent through-line in 100% of Jesus's parables. I don't even believe that all of the parables attributed to him were actually his, if he even existed as portrayed. But I do see a through-line in most of them. And that through-line is a direction of attention toward the needs of others and away from blame. And I genuinely believe that was because he was trying to keep his community whole and hopeful.

And it's ironic to me that even supposedly progressive Christian interpreters are still sitting there being like "he as calling out problems with Judaism.”

No, he was doing exactly the opposite.

#judaism #jewish readings of the new testament #jewish parables #good samaritan #antisemitism #christian exegesis #prodigal son #pharisee and tax collector #why can't christians just do their own thing and leave jews and judaism alone #jumblr

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thisonesatellite · 11 days

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Catch up tag

i was tagged by the lovely and incomparable @booksandabeer, who makes my life better and also adds to my never-ending pile of reading and watchlists with a maximum of impunity and a minimum of compunction. 😂😍💖

Last song I listened to: Last Train to Nowhere - Ghost Hounds

If you like blues - check them out. Their sound is straight out of a 1940s oil drum and they're channeling every last dirty guitar riff and bass line through the last six decades from Free to The Black Crowes to Rival Sons. From earlier tag games some of you know that i listen to the gamut from grunge to industrial to hiphop to metal, but sometimes, darlings, it's just gotta be blues.

Last thing I read: The Second Sleep - Robert Harris

He does a lot of alternative-versions-of-history novels, often with a mystery /thriller element, but this was a bit of a letdown, unfortunately. It has an incredibly well-built world with some very thought-provoking elements of how civilization would fall and rebuild after a technological extinction event (not a calamity -- just the absolute dependence of society on not just technology, but the cloud, and the complete ruination its failure and loss brings) --- which is revealed very gradually and organically (initially you think you're reading a normal high-middle-ages story and then, suddenly -- ancient plastic artifacts. It's well done). But the story builds and builds and builds -- and you keep watching the pages dwindle and worry about how he'll wrap this up, and then, basically, he doesn't. It's not an open end, not even unfinished -- but it is intensely dissatisfying and has an air of "my publisher wanted this by tomorrow". It was definitely worth reading once, but it won't become perennial.

Last movie I watched: Dune Part Two

Enough said. 😂 i'm going to go see Civil War this weekend.

Last TV show: The Continental (look, i love everything John Wick, i won't apologize. And this has a lot of really good world building and storytelling ideas so far.)

Which doesn't disguise the fact that i. Am. So. Fucking. Behind. On. EVERYTHING.

EVERYTHING. OMG. i have not enough time in the day for all the stories i want to imbibe and write and also i have to make room for my current Leverage re-binge, because sometimes i need to see a world where justice is A Thing.

Next up: Fallout, obvi. And Ripley. And The Gentlemen. And now that @booksandabeer mentioned it, Shogun has climbed up the watchlist to #4, and 3 Body Problem has entered it.

You guys still want fic from me, or can i stop writing to free up some time? 😂

Last thing I googled: i cannot stress this enough: i DO NOT GOOGLE. i DUCKDUCKGO.

Having said that, the last thing i searched for was: "longest sniper shots in military history". For a throwaway fic line. i'm going to end up on a letter agency watchlist one of these days and they're not going to like my explanation of 'realistic fictional character dialogue'. Are they.

Last thing I ate: Buttermilk. Which is either very cool, or very sad. 😂

Sweet, salty, or savory: Here's the thing: i do not like the taste of sweet. All sweet. Every iteration of sweet. My fave chocolate is 85 - 99% and my actual hell is a candy store. So, like, SAVORY all the way. And then salty, natch.

Sleep: What is sleep? Do not compute. Want it, though.

Currently reading: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovich

Mostly for phrases like: "Being a seasoned Londoner, Martin gave the body the "London once-over" - a quick glance to determine whether this was a drunk, a crazy or a human being in distress. The fact that it was entirely possible for someone to be all three simultaneously is why good-Samaritanism in London is considered an extreme sport - like BASE jumping or crocodile wrestling."

Really, it's all the fun you can eat.

Absolutely zero pressure tags: @stoneserafina @cable-knit-sweater @ace-in-reserve @ohhsodebonair, @voylitscope

#tag game #ask game #asked and answered #thisonesatellite

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psalmonesermons · 3 months

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Who cares wins Part 5/5

What is the cost of caring?

Jesus tells the Parable of the Good Samaritan in

Luke 10:29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbour?”

30 In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

36 “Which of these three do you think was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

37 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

What is the Cost of Caring? It may cost you time, or effort, or money plus commitment, inconvenience, and you might get covered in blood etc!

Jesus was willing to pay the price for caring for you and me!

Hebrews 12:2 And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

So who is your neighbour at work, at home and in other areas of life?

We might not meet someone who is physically beaten, but what about in other ways?

How can you show a duty of care to your family, church family, work colleagues, strangers etc?

What is the cost of not caring?

Dare to care!

Jesus says to you and me today “Go and do likewise.”

Prayer; Lord give us hearts that are willing to care and to share like you and make us willing to go the extra mile to show your care to those in need who become our neighbours.

Amen

#christianity #bible study #bibletruth #blog post #blessings #psalmonesermons #faith #victory #devotional #who cares wins #the good samaritan #go and do thou likewise

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demoisverysexy · 7 months

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Ian S. Arden

Since the next session will start soon, this will be my last one until second session. Thank goodness cuz it means I get to delay engaging with Elder Oaks talk. But I digress.

This talk was good and inoffensive. I think that focusing on the good of engaging in charitable activities is excellent, as well as the fact he says that such activities are worthwhile even if not performed within a church setting, or even if the person performing such charitable acts is not religious. Its good to hear this language being used by church leaders. But I think this talk could have gone further.

Charity, in my opinion, is not enough. It is vital work, dont get me wrong, and we will always have need for volunteer aid. But many of the afflictions faced in the global south, or the world at large, are caused by systems of abuse: capitalism, sexism, homophobia, racism, etc. Addressing the symptoms of the issue will not fix the underlying causes. Focusing on charity, without insisting vocally and loudly on the importance of activism and overthrowing these systems, is, in some ways, self congratulatory.

While we as individuals cannot, on our own, end capitalism (unfortunately), I do think the good Samaritan is instructive as to how we should do charity in such a world: he goes the extra step.

33 But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, 34 And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.

This final interaction with the innkeeper is key: he promises to return, and to do more. He doesnt simply do what is required of him, he goes the extra step, and puts himself into the innkeepers debt. I think that this mode of doing service is key. Combating injustice with more than what is expected of us is, I think, instrumental to resisting them.

#ldsconf #mormonism #religion #queerstake

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apenitentialprayer · 5 months

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The Good Samaritan, by George Frederic Watts, 1850, oil on canvas.

Help us to spend this day for Your glory and for our neighbor's good.

from the ending prayer for the Monday morning of the fourth week of the four week Psalter

#Christianity #Catholicism #Parable of the Good Samaritan #glory #charity #love #prayers

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 3 months

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The Good Samaritan

25 And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 He said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read?” 27 And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” 28 And he said to him, “You have answered right; do this, and you will live.” 29 But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30 Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was; and when he saw him, he had compassion, 34 and went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; then he set him on his own beast and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ 36 Which of these three, do you think, proved neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” 37 He said, “The one who showed mercy on him.” And Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.” — Luke 10:25-37 | Revised Standard Version (RSV) Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright © 1946, 1952, and 1971 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. All rights reserved. Cross References: Deuteronomy 6:4-5; Deuteronomy 6:24; Leviticus 18:15; Leviticus 19:18; Isaiah 58:7; Matthew 10:5; Matthew 18:28; Matthew 19:16; Matthew 24:34; Mark 8:34; Luke 9:52; Luke 10:38; Luke 16:15; Luke 18:31; Luke 19:28

#Jesus #parables #The Good Samaritan #love #neighbor #lesson #Gospel of Luke #Luke 10:25-37 #New Testament #RSV #Revised Standard Version Bible #National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America

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walkswithmyfather · 1 year

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The Most Important Commandment.

“One day an expert in religious law stood up to test Jesus by asking him this question: “Teacher, what should I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus replied, “What does the law of Moses say? How do you read it?” The man answered, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind.’ And, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” “Right!” Jesus told him. “Do this and you will live!” The man wanted to justify his actions, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

Parable of the Good Samaritan.

“Jesus replied with a story: “A Jewish man was traveling from Jerusalem down to Jericho, and he was attacked by bandits. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him up, and left him half dead beside the road. “By chance a priest came along. But when he saw the man lying there, he crossed to the other side of the road and passed him by. A Temple assistant walked over and looked at him lying there, but he also passed by on the other side. “Then a despised Samaritan came along, and when he saw the man, he felt compassion for him. Going over to him, the Samaritan soothed his wounds with olive oil and wine and bandaged them. Then he put the man on his own donkey and took him to an inn, where he took care of him. The next day he handed the innkeeper two silver coins, telling him, ‘Take care of this man. If his bill runs higher than this, I’ll pay you the next time I’m here.’ “Now which of these three would you say was a neighbor to the man who was attacked by bandits?” Jesus asked. The man replied, “The one who showed him mercy.” Then Jesus said, “Yes, now go and do the same.” —Luke 10:25‭-‬37 (NLT)

https://bible.com/bible/116/luk.10.25-37.NLT

“Caring for Others” By In Touch Ministries:

“Are generosity and service habits in your life?”

“So many people in the world are in need today and serving them is one of the highest callings of the Christian faith. Therefore, it’s essential for believers to commit to give of themselves on behalf of others.

There are countless ways to serve people. For example, a man might decide to pray for and come alongside a friend until a burdensome situation is resolved. Or a woman could make herself available to answer a neighbor’s questions about the faith. If we prayerfully look around, we may see other opportunities, such as driving an elderly friend to medical appointments, mentoring a teenager through a local outreach program, or helping a single parent check some things off a to-do list.

Before you become overwhelmed by the variety of needs in your area, remember that loving your neighbors is meant to be a church-wide effort. One person can’t do it all. Instead, join a small group of fellow believers committed to serving those God brings into your sphere of influence. In order to care for them, you may be asked to surrender resources and time—but when you do, the Lord will bless you with the joy and contentment that come only from Him.”

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