#what can I say I love Words and Suffering

[papaya-twinks]

hii!! I love your writing ! 🥹 unfortunately I suffer from endometriosis so having sex isn‘t always easy for me and it can be quite uncomfortable to give your sexual partners a heads up beforehand so I wanted to request a fic where maybe reader has endometriosis and they have sex for the first time and she asks lando to be gentle and he‘s just so soft and takes care of her during and afterwards and stuff 🫶🏼

Warnings: Smut, 18+ soft!sex, endometriosis (only putting this as a warning coz some ppl think sexual conditions should be a warnings even though I disagree), oral (f receiving), lube.

Pairing: Lando Norris x endometriosis!fem!reader

A/N - idk what someone who has endometriosis is called :(, also, I’m sorry if I got anything wrong, I tried to research it, and it says lube and foreplay are good for endometriosis, correct me if I’m wrong xx

“Have you ever tried before?” Lando asked, his fingers slowly raking through your hair, your head resting on his chest, the subtle thump thump of his heartbeat in your ear. “I-I have,” you admitted, your hand intertwined with his, his thumb rubbing small circles into your palm.

“He was such a dick, he didn’t even ask if it felt good, so I just faked it and left,” you mumbled as Lando sighed. “He sounds like a prick,” he said softly, “you’ve never had a proper orgasm before?”. You shook your head, your cheeks tinged slightly pink, almost embarrassed at the fact.

“And…you want me to give you your first?” he asked as you nodded, once again, nestling into his chest, almost hiding your face. He smiled, a soft, raspy chuckle from his lips as he slowly turned so you were on your back. You were scared, yes, of course you were. But you trusted Lando.

“Safe word’s papaya, okay?” he said, as you nodded, watching as he slowly tugged your shorts down, dragging your panties along with them with his teeth. Immediately initiating the safe word was the best thing he could’ve done in that moment. You could feel his breath on your thighs, his lashes tickling your skin as you waited.

“Lando,” you gasped, his finger coming to draw small circles round your clit, collecting the juices you’d already had from the small heat in your belly, the pad of his thumb resting between your folds. You’d expected him to just slide his finger in, or get you to suck his dick or something, but he hadn’t.

“So pretty,” he said softly, licking his fingers as he moved closer, pulling your legs gently over his shoulders so he could move his face closer to your core, his tongue licking a line up your folds, making you moan, your back arching slightly. “Oh, f-fuck,” you gasped.

“Makin’ pretty sounds f’me already,” he hummed, the words sending a vibration through your core, yours finger intertwining with his curls. You were wet now, almost soaking wet, your heat dripping onto his tongue, the precision of this man would be enough to send you into a fit of orgasms, fuck.

You whined as he moved away, watching as he reached into the drawer, pulling out some lube, and a towel, lifting your hips so he could slide it under you, and moving the pillows so your hes wad comfy. That was kinda surprising.

You knew Lando was a good boyfriend, but this…greenest flag ever, right? “Did my research, baby,” he smiled, almost bashfully, as he took a generous amount of the stuff into his palm, pushing his joggers down, spreading the lube onto his member.

“You’re so beautiful,” he hummed, moving his tip to rest at your entrance. “I’m gonna push in, okay? But first, you gotta tell me the safe word again,” he said, his hand moving to push your hair from your face. “Lando,” you whined, almost in a daze, your mind blank.

“Baby, we’re not doing this unless I have the safe word, and you know it,” he said firmly. And, in some ways, the tone of his voice was an even bigger turn-on. “Papaya, papaya,” you whined, your eyes wide as you stared up at him. “Good,” he said, kissing your jaw.

You hissed as he pushed in, a sharp pain settling into your uterus, his movements stopping immediately. “More lube?” he asked, as you nodded, watching him pull out so only his head hung inside of you, spreading more of the stuff over his cock.

“Better?” he asked, pushing in, watching your face go blank, lips parting silently with need. “Y-Yeah,” you nodded, his cock sitting inside of you, your tummy bulging a bit with his length. “Perfect,” he hummed, slowly moving, ever-so slowly, not enough to make you feel pleasure, but enough to make sure you knew he was there.

“I want you to tell me to speed up or slow down, okay?” he asked you nodded, hands on his shoulders. “More,” you said, your voice a little choked as he sped up, another moan on your lips. His movements sped upon your command, your stomach tightening.

“G-Gonna cum,” you gasped, your eyes rolling. “Better not be f-fake, yeah?” he groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but still gentle. You nodded, closing your eyes as your first ever orgasm hit, your body shaking, Lando’s cock twitching inside of you as his cum pooled out, his seed spilling through.

“You’re so good,” he gasped, gently pulling out, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You said nothing, just panting, your chest rising and falling as he moved you softly so you were in his arms, lying on his chest as he took a towel from the side, wiping his cock and your thighs clean.

You hummed, resting in his chest, eyes drooping, tired already as he smiled. “Enjoyed that?” he asked, as you nodded, “didn’t even use the safe word, that’s how good you are,” he kissed your jaw again, moving your hair from your face, his hands rubbing small circles into your tummy.

[kinichval]

haiiii ;3 can i request kinich and a reader who’s like half siren? like in h20 where when they’re dry they have legs and mualani finds her injured and keeps her in the springs and one night when he goes to see her she’s singer and he like falls in love? i’m not the best with ideas but ignore if you don’t want to lol

hi !! ty for requesting :3 i love the idea so i gave it a shot. i'm not deep into the siren mythology so i switched the lore and tried my best writing this one < 3

"you can't just take in a random stranger in your house just because they're injured, mualani."

"but they were suffering and needed urgent help!"

"then, you should've taken them to the clinic. who knows how severe their injuries are or if they have good intentions."

the conversation of your savior and a stranger stirs you awake from your slumber, eyes fluttering open as your mind gradually processes that it is time to get up. well, maybe if your legs weren't a bit impaired then standing up would've been useful.

except you're not in the best shape as you found yourself tangled in washed-ashore seaweed causing you to trample over rocks and bruising your legs; this means that you can not transform back to your siren appearance (and vice versa if your tail was injured). thank archons, your ridiculous situation ended soon when a kindhearted mualani decided to tend your injuries.

you were honest with your true self with mualani, believing in your instincts that she is as kind as she shows herself to be. like you, she was one with the waters, a soul that's tied to the flow of the oceans and destined to live freely just as the waters liberty to just be.

in the silence of mualani's shelter where you rest and heal, there's the envy creeping up in your heart that you desperately want to repress. but no, it makes itself known for you are not like mualani.

mualani is a free-spirited surfer, an adventurer of the seas; while you were a siren shunned out by society, viewed as a menace and a threat to the land's safety. kill a siren on sight before they destroy your life is what the people would say.

but you do not have the heart to decline her kindness, rather you want to see her heart as a chance to be seen by humans in a different light. because if mualani can, then why can't they?

still, you uphold the value that your mother had instilled in you; there's no point in proving your kindness when they do not believe in your existence. so you remain hidden within the confines of mualani's home, waiting for your injury to subdue until you're able to become siren again.

"kinich, this is yn. yn, this is 'malipo' kinich." mualani introduced you to a trusted friend of hers with enthusiasm high enough to reach the heavens. simply, you give the dendro user a nod and a gentle smile, he returns the gesture with a civil nod of acknowledgement. kinich's reserved attitude is intimidating, given that mualani is the only human you had ever interacted with, you're confused how human relations work and whether the land culture is different from those who reside under the waters.

you trust that mualani hasn't let a word out about your identity, yet it doesn't assure you when you feel the man's skepticism clawing at your skin as if he's ready to capture you the moment he confirms your true nature.

or maybe you're just overthinking.

kinich never intended for his lingering stare to feel like a dagger pointed at your neck, on the contrary, he harbors the curiosity to learn about you. he often finds how his mind wanders off to mualani's newfound friend whenever the usually occupied space in his head is vacant. who is she? why is he so subconsciously adamant on knowing her? only he fails to grasp a clear picture of reason as to why the voices inside his head are telling him to seek at least a fragment of her soul.

"mualani, thank you for taking care of me."

as a parting token, you granted mualani to experience your siren form. the two of you are within the privacy of the springs that only a few ever come to visit under the moonlit night sky.

your heart sinks at the thought of returning back to the deep, uncertain if you shall ever come up to the surface once your clan learns about your predicament knowing that despite you were well taken care of, they will only emphasize the what-ifs and assert the dangers of a siren caught on land.

natlan's springs are peaceful. you requested to have time in the waters for yourself the next night; promising that when morning comes, you are off to return to the ocean where you belong. but right now, you are neither your ascribed identity or whom you want be, you are just part of the waters.

cold air hits your skin, you lightly splash the water with your luminescent tail and softly smile at the quietness. sometimes, the water doesn't have to be constantly flowing, staying still is alright.

in the midst of your solitude, you hum a tune that your mother used to lull you to sleep when you were a young siren. your voice mimics the gentleness of a mother's love, a cradling feeling of tenderness and comfort. slowly, it shifts to a song, your voice becoming louder and alluring.

and just like a serenade, your song had captivated a certain saurian hunter's attention, he stands on the opposite edge of the spring right across where you were situated in. your eyes still closed and immersed in your enchanting euphony.

"i believe i'm not under a spell, but allow me to compliment your melody. may i stay here and listen?"

kinich fixes his composure, hiding the nervousness inside his pocket. but oh, the moonlight acts like a spotlight on your figure, your true nature completely open for him to realize that you are not human at all.

but kinich isn't fazed, neither does he yield the urge to capture you in exchange for the prestige that comes with catching a siren alive.

"are you not afraid?"

instead, you were the one afraid, wrapping your arms around your torso as if it's any help in shield your true form from his green and amber eyes.

"i'm fascinated. you are a beauty."

at this point, kinich does not intend to supress his longing need for you. he's conscious and sober, implying that a siren's song is not all about luring prey into the waters.

sometimes, just like yn, a siren's song is an open book to her innermost thoughts and heartbeat's poems. it doesn't need to hold words for kinich to depict the sentiments carried into the wind as she sings; to be known, to be understood.

"may i stay with you for tonight?"

this time, you wish for the moon to stay in its place, for time to pause, and for kinich to stay in the springs with you.

[honeybelleee]

letter of the heart | s.jy

summary - when y/n finds a love letter at her locker, she has no idea who it's from, so she asks her best friend, jake, for help with what to say. jake, being the good friend he is, jumps in-giving advice, joking around, and even offering to "practice" her responses

pairings - jake x fem!reader

genre - highschool au, bestfriends to lovers, fluff

warning - jake’s a cute idiot <3

belle’s note - this is a continuation from @levandright’s work, make sure to read it first before reading mine <3

769 wc ! happy early birthday jake masterlist

after the day at lunch when you teased jake about knowing the letter’s author, the days that follow become a playful back-and-forth. jake is sure you’ve figured it out, but every time he works up the courage to confess, you give him a flirty look or make a teasing comment that throws him off completely.

one afternoon, as you and jake study together in the library, you casually slide the letter across the table. “so, jake, do you think my secret admirer has noticed that i haven’t written back?” you ask, feigning innocence.

jake blushes and stammers, trying to play it cool. “uh, well, maybe they’re, you know… waiting. for you to notice.”

you smile slyly. “is that what you’d do?”

jake nearly chokes. “i—i mean, i don’t know. probably?”

other moments leave him just as flustered. during lunch, you read a line aloud and tease, “you make me believe in all the little things that make life beautiful. isn’t that sweet?” jake almost spills his drink, his laugh a little too forced. “oh, uh, yeah… really sweet.” you lean in, eyes sparkling. “if it were you, how would you want me to respond?” his blush deepens. “uh… maybe something simple… like, ‘thanks, that means a lot?’” you pat his arm, pretending to think it over. “hmm. or maybe i should say, ‘i’d love to know more about these little things.’ just to keep him guessing.”

each teasing remark leaves jake in a fresh shade of red, more flustered and more convinced that you know. but you never say it outright, leaving him caught in an endless loop of nerves and excitement.

finally, you decide to end his suffering. that evening, you sit down and write jake a letter of your own. you keep it simple but sweet.

dear jake,

every time you help me with “advice” about my secret admirer’s letter, i can’t help but feel like you know a little too much about how they feel. so, here’s my reply to that mysterious person who said i made their world brighter.

you’ve brightened mine too. i hope you’ll meet me by the school gate tomorrow afternoon so i can finally say this in person.

much love,

y/n

the next day, jake is jittery with nerves. when he finds the note tucked into his bag, he reads it once, twice, and then once more, his heart thundering. you… feel the same? his mind races as he realizes this isn’t one-sided, and he can barely hold in his excitement. he spends the rest of the day watching the clock, ready to run to the gate as soon as the last bell rings.

after school, you’re walking toward the gate when you hear footsteps behind you. before you can turn around, jake is there, slightly out of breath, clutching your letter in his hand.

“y/n,” he blurts out, his voice rushed and filled with nervous energy. “i-i need to tell you something. i wrote the first letter. i didn’t mean for you to find it, but then you did, and i was just so nervous, and then you kept bringing it up, and i thought maybe you knew, but you never said anything, so i didn’t say anything, and—”

you can’t help but smile, watching him ramble on in his adorable, flustered state.

“jake,” you interrupt gently, stepping closer.

he doesn’t stop. “and then, i didn’t know if you’d be mad or think it was weird, and i was scared you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore, and—”

you place a finger on his lips, stopping him in his tracks. “jake,” you say, a teasing glint in your eye. “you talk too much.”

then, before he can say another word, you lean up and kiss him softly on the lips, silencing him completely. when you pull back, you see jake staring at you, wide-eyed, his face turning as red as a tomato.

for a moment, he’s speechless, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to process what just happened. then, he lets out a shy, breathless laugh. “so… you’re not mad?”

you laugh, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear. “mad? jake, i think i might’ve been waiting for you to tell me all along.”

he grins, his nervousness finally melting away. “well i’m glad you found the letter then.”

you both walk home together, hands brushing until jake shyly takes yours, his cheeks still pink but his smile bright and wide. the teasing and misunderstandings are finally over, leaving just the two of you and a new, sweet beginning.

jake will hv an amazing bday if u like/comment/reblog!

perm taglist - @ancnymcnzjy @june19190 @wiccangirl29 @shjsnjkj @who-tf-soddhi

©honeybelleee on tumblr!

[little-diable]

Our suffering ends now - Tommy Shelby (smut)

It truly has been a while since I’ve last posted a Tommy fic, but I love how this came together. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: She has mourned his death for the past years, all until her boss speaks of him, leaving (y/n) to wonder how she could have been betrayed like that, blindsided by lies. It’s time for her to return to the man she has believed to be dead.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, reunited lovers, some angst and crying

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (3.5k words)

Trees blurred past the window she sat close to, hands holding onto the book she carried with herself. Her eyes burned from being awake for so long, having to change trains every few hours, set on making it to him before night would break. Hours ago her heart had raced in her chest, pounding against her ribcage as if it was trying to flee from her. And she couldn’t blame it, knowing that what she was about to do would be uncomfortable, scarily so. 

This journey broke more promises than she could count with both of her cold hands, and yet she hadn’t been able to fight against the need to see him again – after all these years. She could still hear Ada’s and Polly’s voices speaking to her, forcing her to leave that one cruel night years ago. With tears rolling down her cheeks she had given in, watching the two women pack her bags before accompanying (y/n) to the train station. A foolish mistake she had been forced to live with. 

She was torn between hurt and anger, not understanding how the two women she had once loved like her own sisters could have betrayed her like that. For years she had lived with the knowledge that her lover was dead, that he hadn’t made it home after the war. Lies, nothing but lies she had been fed. 

If it hadn’t been for her job she would have kept believing the lies, not doubting what she had been told by the two. If it hadn’t been for the way her boss had spoken of him, she wouldn’t have stopped grieving the loss of the man she had once promised to love until her death. If it hadn’t been for the sinking feeling growing deep within her, she wouldn’t have purchased the train tickets that very night before calling the only man she had kept in touch with. 

Her legs ached as she rose to her feet, ready to step out of the train in hopes of spotting him. A deep breath was sucked into her lungs as (y/n) started moving, holding onto her suitcase while the cold evening air wrapped itself around her. 

“(Y/n)!” The smile widening on her lips only grew as her eyes spotted Alfie, rushing towards him to throw herself into his arms. He held onto her, hugging her as if they hadn’t seen each other in years, even though it had only been a handful of weeks. His comforting scent wrapped itself around (y/n), cozying her along as he slowly parted from her. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“You fucker.” The words rolled off her tongue before she could stop them, earning a few shameful gazes from couples brushing past the two. But Alfie’s loud laugh distracted her enough to keep smiling at the man she had crossed paths with years ago, instantly learning to love him like a brother. 

“Come, come, let’s get some food into your system and then you can tell me all about why you have summoned me to Birmingham, yeah?”

…

“Pain has never suited you, and yet it never dims your beauty.” (Y/n) raised her eyebrows at him in an almost mocking manner, drawing a smirk onto Alfie’s lips. She pushed herself further into the couch, legs tucked underneath herself while Alfie sat close to her, waiting for her to finally shed some light onto her mysterious behaviour. 

“You remember what I told you about him, don’t you?” A sigh left Alfie at her words, eyes momentarily fluttering close as if his annoyance was already getting the best of him.

“I told you I would marry you, there is no reason to mourn a life with a husband you never had. Say the words, Alfie marry me, and I will, yeah? Is this why you so desperately needed to see me, pearl? Because of some boy who fell at war like so many others?” Her jaw muscles began to tick in anger, a fire started to burn in her eyes at his words. (Y/n) had to let go of a few deep breaths, trying to keep calm before this could spiral into another fight neither of them would win.

“He’s not dead.” It was a simple sentence, and yet it carried more pain than all others she had spoken in a long time. It almost felt as if every single vowel had sharp teeth, scratching at her tongue as they rolled right off the strong muscle to leave behind wounds that wouldn’t fade. 

“What? Did his ghost suddenly appear at night? Did God speak to you-,” the sharp call of his name interrupted Alfie, forcing him to quieten down with anger tugging on his features. For a moment, neither of them spoke a word, letting a heavy silence fill the room. Ever since their paths had crossed, she had told Alfie all about him, without ever telling him his name, he knew nothing but the endless moments she could still remember, the love she had been fortunate enough to experience. 

“I heard it at work, my boss spoke of him and his brothers. He’s alive, I’ve grieved a man who was never dead all because I believed lies I had no reason not to believe. That’s why I called you, if somebody could help me find him, it’d be you.” Tears welled up in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks as if the sky itself was crying for her and all those horrible years she had lost to mourning him.

“What is his name, (y/n)?” Seriousness clung to Alfie as he asked the one question he had never dared to ask, shoulders tensed, lips pressed together as if he already knew the name she was about to whisper.

“Tommy Shelby.” All Alfie did was stare at her, making goosebumps appear on her arms as he shot to his feet, turning his back on (y/n) while a sound torn between a groan and a shout tore out of him. She was close to flinching, not understanding why he was reacting that way. 

“I can’t take you to him, (y/n). You’ll take the first train home tomorrow morning.” (Y/n) mimicked his movements while an almost hysterical laugh clawed out of her. Slowly, Alfie turned back towards her, both stared at one another, waiting for the other to break first. 

“I won’t leave, not before I see him again. What do you even know of Tommy, Alfie?” With two quick steps he had reached her, hands finding her warm face to cling to her. Pain was swimming in his pupils, a pain that reached far deeper than she could imagine. His calloused thumb stroked her skin as he softly shook his head at her, seemingly fighting to find the right words.

“Tommy Shelby is a devil, yeah, he’s a man who’d kill you without needing a gun nor a knife. He’s not the man you once loved, go home, forget about him and allow me to show you glimpses of a life you deserve to live, pearl.” (Y/n) pushed herself into his arms, cheek pressed against his chest to listen to his racing heartbeat. She clung to the man she wished she could love like a lover, a man who’d treat her well enough to offer her the world. And yet her heart couldn’t let go of Tommy, of the life she ached for like a starving woman dreaming of a soup to warm her aching body.

“Take me to him, Alfie, this is a decision that’s only mine to make.” 

……

Her fingers were interlaced with his, feeling his thumb stroke the back of her hand while she shifted her weight from one side of the pillow to the other. Both were staring at the door, waiting for the sound of somebody knocking on the wood to reach them. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) had problems breathing, tensing even further as the sound could finally be heard. 

And then her eyes found his frame, a man dressed in a sharp suit, in a thick dark coat and a cap whose shadow hid most of his features. Alfie rose to his feet, hiding her behind his frame as if he was still giving her the chance to turn around and leave, “Tommy, I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you again but we both know that’d be a lie, yeah.”

“What am I doing here, Alfie? I don’t have much time.” Silence began to stretch itself through the room, a silence that was filled by the sound of (y/n) clearing her throat. Alfie was forced to step aside as she rose, forcing all eyes onto her. For a moment nobody spoke, icy eyes wandered over her features, forcing her to straighten her spine and to blink away her tears. She struggled to believe that he was real, he had changed, had grown older and yet he still looked like the boy she had sworn to marry. 

“Tommy,” his name left her like a whisper, a sound that made him take a step back as if his personal hell was awaiting him. He kept staring at her until Alfie pushed himself closer to (y/n), forcing Tommy’s eyes to flicker from her to his enemy. “Do us a favour and give us some time alone, please, Alfie.”

It took Alfie a second to give in, staring at Tommy for a few more seconds before he reluctantly left the room. The door fell shut with a heavy thud, making her jump while it began to dawn on her that she was finally alone with Tommy, just like she had imagined for all these years. 

“It felt like a dream, you know, to hear your name again after all these years where I grieved you, believing you to be dead.” (Y/n)’s voice trembled, shaking with every further word she spoke. Her wide eyes clung to his confused features, watching his expression harden. She took a step closer, halting in her step as he shook his head, forcing her to stand still once again.

“You don’t need to lie to me, (y/n). You left without a word, forcing me to return to an empty home.” A sob left her, rumbling through her louder than intended. Now it was on her to shake her head, to cover her mouth with her shaking hand while bile filled her mouth. It felt like a cruel joke, allowing her to see through the game Ada and Polly had played on both of them. 

“Tommy, they told me you died, they made me pack my bags, made me leave home to start my life all over again in a different city hours away. I didn’t leave on my free will, why should I? I was ready to marry you, to start a family, you have to believe me.” She tried to move again, successfully this time, coming to a halt right in front of him. (Y/n) allowed herself to cup his cheek like she had last done the day he had left to fight in a devastating war. His piercing eyes kept staring at her glassy ones, watching her tears fall.

“Who’s they?” It was a simple question, a question rasped out with pain dripping from the words. Her tongue kissed her teeth, all too aware that this situation was about to spiral into another heartbreak. 

“Ada and Polly.” Nothing but a whisper, words that made anger widen on his handsome features. His gloved hand found hers, gently pushing her hand from his cheek to get some more distance between them, clearly hurting (y/n) with the simple action. 

“It’s good to see you again, (y/n), now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a busy day ahead. I hope Alfie takes good care of you.” Tommy turned from her, ready to leave the room while she choked on another sob.

“He’s nothing but a brother to me, Tommy. I never loved another. I can’t even bear the thought of being close to somebody who isn’t you.” He halted in his step, letting the words wash over him before wordlessly leaving the room. Leaving (y/n) behind with another cruel sob leaving her.

……

It had been hours since she had seen Tommy, hours she had spent with her cheek pressed to Alfie’s chest, drowning in the tears that didn’t seem to stop rolling. He had clung to her, had whispered comforting words to try and soothe her pain, without any luck. All until the phone call that had reached him, asking him to bring (y/n) to the Garrison at 4pm, not followed by any explanation. 

And so it came that she was leaning against Alfie as they stepped into the empty place, letting her eyes wander through the room. She found herself distracted for a moment, until her name was shouted by Arthur’s familiar voice, forcing her into a tight hug that made her chuckle in delight. 

Her body shook as they were led towards a room in the back, allowing her eyes to meet Tommy’s icy ones. A cigarette was held between his lips, the smoke engulfed him as if his shadows had moved up his body, whispering commands to him. It took Alfie a moment to let go of (y/n), to press a kiss to her hairline, eyes drawn back to Tommy, “If I find her crying again, I won’t hesitate to finally put a bullet between your eyes just like God intended, yeah?” 

It felt like a deja-vu, reminding her of their conversation hours ago after Alfie had left. She didn't dare move as Tommy kept smoking, intensely studying her. He leaned back in his chair before he reached his hand out, wordlessly urging her closer through the now empty room. (Y/n) moved slowly, feeling her heart skipping beats as he pulled her closer, forcing her to stand between his thighs.

“I dreamt of you, back in France. You were the only thing keeping me alive. I even prayed, to you or whoever would fucking bring me back to you. And then you were gone. They said you couldn’t wait any longer, that you couldn’t endure the pain.” He had his eyebrows furrowed, no longer able to look at her. A sigh left (y/n), she leaned back against the table to get a better view of his hard features, feeling how torn he was.

“They told me you died, that there was nothing left for me here. I didn’t get a chance to protest, they packed everything up and then I was suddenly on a train up north.” Her words drew his eyes back to (y/n), looking at the woman he had always loved, even as he had tried to hate her. Tommy tugged on her hand to pull her into his lap as if he still needed to convince himself that she was real, not a trick of his tired mind.

“They will pay for the hurt they’ve caused you.” It was a promise, filled with darkness and hurt, but (y/n) didn’t find it in herself to worry. Not when she was this close to him again, finally. 

“Is it true what Alfie told me? Did you get married?” He swallowed before his hand moved up her thigh, coming to rest on her waist. The silence told her everything she needed to know, leaving her to wonder how that woman had managed to capture his heart while (y/n)’s had been missing half of hers.

“I did, her name was Grace. I loved her, and yet it was no love like ours. Nothing could ever be like that.” A soft smile tugged on her lips, trying to forget about the woman who had once been at his side. Alfie had told her of her, of every detail he had picked up on over the past months, stories (y/n) was desperate to leave behind. 

Whatever it was that urged her on to move, it grew stronger with every passing second, until her lips ghosted over his. Tommy instantly reacted, searching her lips to press a hard kiss against them. He tasted of whisky, of cigarettes, and tea, nothing like the kisses they had last shared as young adults, tasting of a bright future that had been dimmed weeks later. 

The kiss grew more passionate as she began to shift around, wrapping both arms around his neck while her legs rested on either side of his. Their tongues fought for victory as his hands moved up her sides, tracing the body he had longed for in cold and dark nights. She was his warmth, the warmth that had been robbed from him beneath the surface of the earth, hiding away in tunnels that would forever haunt him. 

“Tommy,” she mumbled his name against his lips as both sucked air into their lungs, unable to stop clinging to one another. “Touch me, prove to me that you’re real. Let me feel you, please.”

His grip on her grew tighter, icy eyes watching her for a moment before he kissed her again. His hands found the seam of her dress, pushing the skirt further up her thighs with his hands finding her warm skin. A groan tore out of him as he touched her through the fabric of her undergarments, drawing a soft moan from her parted lips. 

Tommy spoke no warning as he stood up to place her down on the table. They held eye contact, wordlessly communicating while he pulled her undergarments down her legs, hand instantly drawn back to her heat. He touched her with care, gently brushing through her slip to collect drops of arousal. 

(Y/n)’s head rolled back, eyes fluttering close as he began to circle her pulsing bundle. Even though her mind struggled to figure out if she was truly experiencing this, if her lost lover was back to bring her pleasure, she didn’t find it in herself to care, to ask any other question. 

He looked like the devil, towering over her while pushing two fingers into her tightness. Tommy had been the last man she had allowed to touch her, and yet it felt so different to be touched by him, a new sensation she was already addicted to. He moved slowly, curling his fingers against her swollen spot while his thumb kept rubbing her pulsing bundle. 

She choked on his name, calling it out into the evening as if she was trying to summon him. He marvelled at her while he brought her pleasure, reminding her of all those times he had imagined this happening, aching for her while other women warmed his bed. And yet they hadn’t been her, no other woman had ever managed to make him feel this alive, eliciting a love for life deep inside of him. 

“I need you, all of you. Make love to me like you once did, Tommy.” He fumbled with his belt, freeing his hard cock from his trousers before brushing through her slit again. His hand found her throat to pull her in for another kiss the second he sank into her, feeling her walls flutter around him. 

It felt as if the world was ending, as if this was the last thing they could experience before their lives would end. And yet, (y/n) could only pray that death would be this beautiful, this comforting, finding herself in the arms of her lover. 

Tommy moved with care, fucking her softly for a few thrusts before he picked her up again to sink back down on the chair. He allowed her to take what she was aching for, fucking herself on his cock while his strong hands supported her. Every now and then his hips began to jerk, forcing his cock deeper into her tightness. 

“Heavens, I missed you, Tommy. I missed you so much.” Her eyes were too tired to cry again, and yet she felt as if she was whimpering for him, for the time lost, and the dreams that had been buried six feet under. His hand kept a possessive hold of her throat, keeping (y/n) close to whisper to her. 

“You’re mine, (y/n), no lost time will ever change that.” The second his thumb found her bundle again she was done for, ready to let go with his name bleeding from her tongue. He held onto her as she came, knowing that he wouldn’t last much longer himself. 

It hadn’t been long since he had last found comfort with another woman around, and yet it hadn’t nearly felt this good, this intense, this right. Tommy forced his eyes to stay open, to watch her fall apart as he followed moments later, imprinting himself on her walls. 

For a minute or two neither of them spoke, letting go of heavy breaths while their bodies stayed connected. Gently, he helped her off his lap, only to pull her back in the second he’d redressed. Neither of them could let go, scared that the other would leave their side otherwise. 

“What will happen now, Tommy?” She was scared to speak the question, didn’t want to be pushed away by the one man she’d never be able to stop loving. His hand pulled her back against his chest, chin placed on top of her head while alighting a cigarette. 

“Now you’ll find a new home here, with me. Our suffering ends now.”

[sturniolosiphone]

introducing...morose!reader and pinning!matt

divider by: @bernardsbendystraws

In which morose!reader and pining!matt are best friends. Inseparable. They're there for each other..whether it's morning coffee, running an errand, or a night on the couch. There's connection, safety, and desire..they can feel it; they can tase it...

morose: sullen and ill-tempered.

⋆.˚morose!reader can come off as a little bitter, a little detached to strangers who aren’t in her inner circle. She finds small talk hard, and she simply does not have the energy to make new friends. 

⋆.˚morose!reader will disappear for days at a time. She is usually hidden in her room, racking up screen time on her phone or attempting to read the book she restarted four times. Her room is her safe space, filled with trinkets, clothes, and vinyls. 

⋆.˚morose!reader took "My Year of Rest and Relaxation" too literally.

⋆.˚morose!reader can watch movies for hours a day and constantly log them into letterboxd. She also loves the movie theater and often calls it her church. She allows herself to break down in the worn-down theater chair as her feet stick to the flooring covered in diet soda.

⋆.˚morose!reader is always saying she could do more, be more. She can’t feel fulfillment in any career path, any passion project…anything. She will come off confident and unnerving, but as soon as that bedroom door closes, she stares at herself in the mirror until she is unrecognizable. 

⋆.˚morose!reader is constantly changing her appearance. Cutting her hair, bleaching her eyebrows, small tattoos, and piercings. She is always trying to find herself, and understand why she is the way she is. 

⋆.˚morose!reader who knows Matt would be good for her but she just...

pining: suffering with or expressing longing or yearning for someone or something.

⋆.˚pining!matt, who is captivated by morose. He had been in love with her since the first time he saw her at that weird basement party, where they both decided to leave together and go to McDonald’s because the vibes were just off. He’s at her beck and call and is willing to do whatever to make her happy and satisfy her. 

⋆.˚pining!matt is soft and loving. He may come off as a little standoffish, but that is only because he is shy. 

⋆.˚pining!matt, who keeps his journal in his back pocket. He holds a list of all of morose's favorite things. What to order her at restaurants, how she likes her coffee, things that make her happy, and things that make her angry or upset. 

⋆.˚pining!matt is always lost in thought. He is having conversations in his head and lingering on other people's words. He keeps quiet most of the time, absorbing information and taking things in. 

⋆.˚pining!matt hates all of that “new age” shit but owns every Apple product. He refuses to use Apple CarPlay in his car and will only listen to CDs. He hates the internet and tries to keep off social media as much as possible. If he posts anything on social media, it's either morose or his album reviews that get five likes. 

⋆.˚pining!matt who prays one day morose will break, finally let him in completely and let him show her what it feels like to finally let go.

[A/N: this is my first AU! I have been absolutely taken by other writer's AU's and I love how free and creative you can be. I'd love to write for this AU if it is received well!! Please feel free to send in asks about morose!reader and pining!matt]

[lostintransist]

I can't keep doing this to myself...

My brain spit out an idea at me that I don't want to lose so you get to suffer with me under the weight of this idea until I have the time space energy ADHD hyperfocus to start on it.

This is not edited. Goal is to get the thought out of my head, not to make it perfect.

So imagine for me if you will that in some version of the stories for whatever reason I can bullshit into making sense Simon is selected to undergo a new and experimental form of trauma therapy. Used she/her here but when I write it pronouns will be you/yours

He hates it but orders are orders and after losing Johnny (his best mate, his lover, the other half of his soul) he would do just about anything to crawl from under the weight of the grief and guilt. Accepting the assignment means being put under sedation regularly for anywhere from six months to a year. During the sedation your active mind will remian awake and will begin to interact with a simulation that will help deal with the traumas exisiting in his body and mind.

Simon, not 100% on board, accepts the assignment but when he wakes up in some of his worst memorires ignores the woman following him from scene to scene, offering help. Every time he cowers as a child she offers a hand. Each time he bites back the fear flooding his system on a battlefield she offers to take the bullet instead.

For months he ignores her, trying to defeat his demons on his own. This was his mind and his body dammit, he could do this.

She stops offering help but doesn't leave. Trailing behind him in his memories Simon always finds flowers strewn in his footsteps. He never bothered to learn her name. When her laughter starts to haunt his dreams he watches her instead of his memories.

Whoever had programed this simulation had taken great care in creating a realistic interaction point. She makes ugly faces before she sneezes in the barns he has hid in, always complains about hayfever. Her ring finger on her right had been broken before, he can tell from the slight bend between the second and third knuckle. Every time he entered the simulation she wore something different, sometimes tugging on pants as if they wouldn't stay up.

"What should I call you?"

"Mmm?" She looks up from a book she had pulled down from a shelf in a dilapidated kitchen. "Oh, I'm not real so you can call me whatever you want."

He stared at her, frustrations mounting.

"Back to the silent treatment? Okay, this recipe looks actually really yummy," she turns to look back to the book.

Simon stalks up and snatches it from her hands. There is actually handwritten recipes. For some reason this makes Simon's rage double. How? How could this be real? He never opened a book in this kitchen. All that happened here was patching his wounds while waiting for exfil.

Their pattern continues like that until his brain finally spits out Johnny's death. He had been so, so careful to never let that memory come up. When it does Simon is so blindsided that when she offers to help he finally accepts.

Not knowing what to expect from this interaction did not prevent Simon from being surprised at how she handled it. She started to hum as she froze the memory, touching and moving pieces and people until everything had rewound a few moments.

"You have to sit it in, this pain. Talk to him. Tell him everything you didn't get a chance to. The longer you can sit in the agony the sooner it will find peace." She takes him by the hand and pulls him to his love.

Simon cries, like the young boy who needed safety and only found hate or indifference. Through blubbering sobs he tells Johnny every word he regretted hording. When Johnny hugs him back, mouth moving and voice saying things Simon had only dreamed of he found a semblenece of peace.

When his heartrate returns to normal and the only proof this interaction happened is the hollow space in his chest where Johnny will continue to exist his compaion steps back from Johnny, appearing as if from the dust.

"I think that is enough today. You did good." Turning on her heel she walks away, disappearing into the folds between memories.

Simon had never seen her leave before, he always ended the sessions before she had a chance.

He lets her help then, this nameless woman. They conquer every memory and the vaguest notions of memories that bother him. This intensive work paired with his weekly therapy leaves his with the skills to deal with the nightmares, the PTSD, and the trauma that still manifests from time to time.

Can one fall in love with a figment of imagintion? Simon thinks he might have. The final session he confesses, brushing his lips against hers as she sobs.

"But I'm not real. Simon, you can't love me I'm not real."

"Johnny's not real either anymore. I still love him. I'll keep you in my bones next to him, both of you keeping me safe."

She runs then, between memories and fears until she disappears and ends the sesion.

Simon, upon requesting more sessions, is informed that he has completed the program and all his care is being turned over to the non-intensive team that his therapist is a part of. Oh she shouldn't have argued with him or cut off their sessions. Now he knows she is real, the woman the knocked around his brain and fought back the demons for him.

Now all he had to do? Find her.

For anything I am currently working on check out my masterlist. This is getting dropped into my drabbles for later.

[himasgod]

Kinich x r4ped!reader

Scaramouche x family issues!reader

(I finally finished this request! I've tried to make it as non-specific as possible, I know this is a sensitive subject. If any of you, dear readers, have gone through a similar experience, I want you to know that this is a serious subject, and that you are not alone. You have many things, many people, many laws and entities protecting you. Feel free to express yourself. You can count on me if you need anything.)

Kinich

Where you find comfort on him after being sexu4lly 4bused.

It was a thick night in Natlan, and the heat was barely able to alleviate the weight you felt in your chest. In the last few days, you had tried to return to your normal life, pretending that everything was fine; but the reality was that the shadows of your pain continued to haunt you. You didn't want to talk, not even to Kinich, afraid that your words would fail to convey the hell you had lived through. However, the concern in his eyes convinced you that tonight you could no longer bear your suffering alone.

Kinich was at your side, silent. Not asking for explanations, not pressuring. Despite his pragmatic personality, he was perceptive and knew when someone was carrying more than they could hold. He watched you for a moment, his eyes serious and attentive, without traces of judgment, only open for whatever you decided to trust him with.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to say," Kinich murmured softly, breaking the silence gently. His rough hands, accustomed to combat and hunting, sought yours with unusual care, as if he were afraid of breaking you at the slightest contact. “But I am here, for whatever you need. You know I love you, forever”

You felt the calm strength in his touch. A shiver ran through your skin, as if Natlan’s warmth was not enough to calm the coldness that had remained inside you since that fucking day. The words were stuck in your throat, and although you wanted to answer him, your voice seemed to have faded. But Kinich understood, as if your silence spoke for itself. He gently pulled you towards him, and without saying anything else, he let his arm surround your body with a protective warmth, gently, as if he were leaving you enough time to react, in case you did not want to have any contact.

“I know that what they did to you…” he began to say, his voice low and full of a weight that he rarely showed, “is something that no human being should endure. I can't undo what they did to you, or erase that pain… but I'll be here, even if you just want company without words."

You squeezed your eyes shut, and at last, the knot in your chest began to give way. Tears ran free, and Kinich didn't look away for a moment. He stayed by your side, like an immovable pillar in the middle of the storm that was hitting you. There was no rush, no attempt to change or minimize what you felt. He was simply there, sharing the weight in silence.

When you finally found your voice, you could barely whisper through your tears:

"I'm scared… scared that I'll never feel whole again, that this has taken a part of me away forever. I feel dirty, I've been taken away…"

Kinich looked at you, his gaze filled with an empathy rare in him. With a deliberate slowness, on purpose in case you didn't feel comfortable, he placed his hand on your face, gently wiping away the tears with his thumb.

"You're so much more... you are stronger than you think,” he replied, with a conviction so deep that he almost managed to make you believe him. “They haven’t taken anything from you. You will overcome it, and you will be the same as always. It is just a process that you will face… and I will be there throughout the process, helping you. You will overcome it. I promise you that.”

His words were like a balm, sincere and firm. Although the doubt and the pain were still present, Kinich’s presence enveloped you in a feeling of security. He did not promise that everything would be fine, but he did promise that he would be there, ready to accompany you in every step you took to heal.

You both stayed like that, sharing the silence under Natlan’s starry sky, and you understood that in Kinich you had found a refuge.

Scaramouche

Where he comforts you after you've told him your family's expectations of you.

The mood in Sumeru was gloomy, reflecting the weight of your thoughts. You had had a heated argument with your family earlier that morning, a conflict that seemed to repeat itself in an endless cycle. It was differences of expectations, impossible demands, and a constant comparison that drained every particle of peace you tried to build. You didn't know how to explain to them your desire to live on your own terms, without the weight of their expectations on your shoulders.

You found yourself walking aimlessly through the city, trying to clear your mind. However, a familiar shadow appeared in your path, and looking up, you saw Scaramouche, arms crossed and a disdainful expression you knew all too well.

"Are you done ghosting around town?" he asked in his usual scathing tone, but something in his eyes revealed more concern than contempt.

You sighed, trying to keep your composure, but the tension in your chest was too strong.

“If you’ve only come to make fun of it, then you might as well leave it,” you replied in a dry tone, hoping your words would drive him away.

To your surprise, Scaramouche didn’t move. Instead, he stared at you intently, as if he were trying to decipher the shadows behind your words.

“I’m not here to make fun of you, fool,” he murmured, his tone softening only slightly. “Though sometimes it seems like you don’t even understand what you need.”

His words made your barriers crumble, and without knowing how, you found yourself telling him everything. The overwhelming expectations, the rejection of your decisions, the constant criticism that felt like daggers in your heart. As you spoke, Scaramouche’s expression changed, a mix of contained rage and dark compassion that only he seemed to possess.

“So… you can’t live up to them and they know it,” he finally said, after listening to you in silence. “Why do you have to mold yourself in their image?”

You looked at him in shock, tears threatening to spill out. It was the first time someone had said it out loud, like a truth you hadn’t allowed yourself to believe.

“Because… they’re my family. I’m supposed to make them happy.”

Scaramouche snorted, his gaze turning icy.

“That’s absurd,” he muttered, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Family shouldn’t be a burden that crushes you. They don’t have the right to decide how you live. If they truly loved you, why would they hurt you this way?”

His words were harsh, but they carried a sincerity that cut through every one of your doubts. You moved a little closer, seeking refuge in his presence. Though Scaramouche rarely showed affection to you, eben if he was your boyfriend, this time he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let you lean on him, his hand resting gently on your back as the weight of your tears fell silently.

“You don’t need to live up to their expectations to be worth something. If they don’t see it, it’s their problem, not yours,” he murmured, almost in a whisper. “And I… well, I’m the last one who should say this, but… you’re not alone in this fight.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt like someone understood you without judging you. Scaramouche, with his reticent nature and his own history of pain, knew more than he let on.

And in that instant, you realized that even if your family would never understand your choices, maybe you had someone at your side who could support you without asking for anything in return.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Therapy Files 1: Dead Enough to be Alive

Screenshot Credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy is headed to his first therapy appointment and his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) tries to soothe him while he freaks out about it. (873 Words)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of vomit, passive suicidal thoughts, impending mental breakdown (no breakdown in this one), fem reader/generic lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! Sideblog for social stuff: @m-z-shoroi. If you want to filter out the therapy posts, the tag is #cb therapy files.

Day 1

I almost threw up the day of therapy.

It's funny how al-anon meetings didn't fuck me up this bad. Being a no-face in a room full of faceless sufferers somehow made it easier to summon and examine the pain of Mikey dying, of cooking consuming every aspect of my being until all that was left was this chewed lump of mangled muscle and bone fighting for some form of continued existence. I could rip it from my chest, hold it in my hand, turn it in the light. Look at all the faces, the thin spots, the gouges, the dents. Half the people there weren’t listening to me at all, were lost in the turmoil of their own pain and suffering, of the loved ones that were too far away to reach or so unreachable that they were gone. I didn’t mind it.

Half the time, I just needed to hear what I had to say, anyway. Something about the words coming out of my mouth, as stuttered, incomplete, inadequate as they were; something about hearing my own voice say them to me, of my voice hitting my ears—that was the important part. I’ve been through hell and back, I understand clearer than anyone else that I’m the most powerful climber I know. I don’t need someone to grab my hand and pull me out of this mess; I just need someone to know that I’m here. I need someone to witness my existence, my pain, my misery. I just need someone to come looking for me if I go quiet for too long. Just a face over the edge of the cliff. They don’t need to say nothing. They just need to exist.

I’m just dead enough to be alive at all, and in a room full of ghosts, that’s an easier thing to reconcile than trying to explain that to a fucking therapist (who’ll probably put me on some sort of watch list after probing me with a thousand questions about whether or not I want to die, how I plan to do it, how much of my plan I’ve enacted). I shouldn’t be pissed. It’s their job. Fuck only knows how many times they’ve had their 3:00 not show up only to find out the next day that their 3:00 would never show up for anything again. But how else do I explain these brambles of mortality, this barbed wire anchored in my skin. I can’t escape death.

He owes me a brother.

He owes me some fucking answers.

 Darling's hand landed on my thigh. "Baby, you're going to crack your knees on the dashboard if you don't stop bouncing your leg like that."

And I'm fucking terrified of therapy.

"Why are you terrified, sweetheart?"

Shit, I said that aloud, didn't I? "I just... I don't know." I raked my hair back. "I don't know."

"It's a little too late to cancel the appointment now—"

"I know, I know, I know." I pressed the heels of my hands into my cheekbones. I know. I’m not saying I’m not going to go; I’m saying I’m terrified. Those are different things.

She squeezed my knee. "Breathe, pretty boy."

I heaved a breath.

"You're gonna be okay, baby.”

"What if I'm not?"

It took her a bit to answer. "Then we'll do what we can to make it okay."

She can’t make promises, but right about now I need some of those. Promise me I’ll be okay? Promise me it’s not as bad as it seems?

The car turned, then stopped. Her cold fingers curled around my wrist.

"Hey. Look at me, Bear?"

I dropped my hands, but I couldn't make myself look over. Don't know why; it probably would've calmed me down to see her pretty face, but my eyes stayed glued to the hood of the car parked in front of us, the icicles hanging in front of the grill. Teeth. Fuck, I was clenching my jaw again. Heat surged in my chest, crawled up into my neck, only this time, the panic didn’t come with it—my eyes just stung. I only felt a breakdown coming.

She interlocked her hand with mine, brought the back of it to her warm lips. Pressed a kiss to it, just to the side, behind my thumb. She returned it with a plum-pink lipstick print on it. Jagged, sharp, blurred edges, but distinctly hers.

"Do you think that'll help?" She whispered, carding through my curls, tucking them behind my ear.

I’m trying not to have a meltdown, baby girl, I’m useless.

She pulled my shirt collar down and planted another one on my sternum, just below where the neckline would be. It bloomed a wave of coolness in my chest. A comfortable cold. This wasn’t ice against my chest; ice is sharp, jagged, a frozen lightning bolt. The kiss was milder, softer. Diffuse.

She replaced my shirt, pecked my mouth. “How about that one?”

How about you give me another one after this fucking appointment, hm?

Tags: @jess248, @catharticconsolation, @persymons, @morgthemagpie, @glitch0o0, @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly

[asraindarkness]

If it’s okay, not necessarily BuckTommy but -

This season feels SO weird. It’s even weirder because for the first time they had a long time to plan it - they knew they were renewed for a Season 8 early into Season 7. So much so that, for the first time, they let the season end with a cliffhanger. Multiple, even.

And they they dropped all of them in a rushed and unsatisfactory way. If they didn’t want S7’s plots to continue on to 8, they could’ve ended them in S7. Never bring Ortiz or Gerard back. But instead, they went with the oddest choice and created a nice cliffhanger, only to disappoint pretty much everyone.

But for me it’s more than that. It’s also the way the characters don’t always feel like them. You’re telling me Buck never went into a deep dive about queer history or rights when he discovered he’s bi?? that Maddie would make the making men gay comment?? that Chimney wouldn’t talk to Hen about the possible second pregnancy?? I could go on and on.

And the dynamics also feel… broken. We barely have friendship moments, at all. Buddie this season feels weird, like Eddie doesn’t really want to be bothered by Buck. Hen and Chim are barely communicating. The firefam doesn’t have moments outside of emergencies (save that montage of them asking Bobby for help).

It feels like the writers have stopped knowing how to write these characters and their dynamics. And for me the found family that I fell in love with at first watch feels gone, you know?

i’ve been saying this since s6!

like aren’t they tried of keep writing buck the same all the time??? he doesn’t get promoted on his job that he’s fucking good at it, they had a kind of story about it when buck wanted to be captain in s6 and then bridge fall happened and buck was a fucking powerhouse in it and i thought they finally gonna show buck more that just a young goofy firefighter that thinks on his feet, show them he’s a leader but then they dropped it.

he doesn��t get into lasting relationship and is always chasing one and apparently now he’s gonna forget his character’s growth and gonna be right back in s1. it’s like buck’s always gonna be the boyish bratt they made in s1 when he was 25/6 not a 33yo man!

eddie can’t fucking move on for 6/7 years and tries constantly to make a mom out of everything woman he dates but now a confession and a random priest apparently healed him like he was possessed not fucking mentally traumatized!

madney are most of the times are dealing with doug that comes out like random jump scares. maddie had 2 stories last season both was about her trauma with him. yes you can’t heal from something like that for a long time or possibly never but for god’s sake that woman raised his brother as his own child when she was still a child herself and what did 911 do with this part of her? NOTHING

and you don’t need me talk about hemren’s endless suffering

and where is athena’s children???

it’s been a mess since s6 but now it’s wors cuz tim starts writing 5 minutes before they start shooting. i said it 100 times the only thing good about s7 was buck’s bi arc. they make a big deal out of problems and solve them in most childish ways in the same episode!

i know it’s basically a soap opera but ffs it’s not a fantasy. they pulled dead wife no.2 cuz it’s a soap but in what word a child can land a plane?

honestly after i reed that tim rewatched the whole thing before writing for bi buck i was sure the show gonna back to its root where chim and hen are besties and hen and athena spend time together etc etc, but apparently all he got from that is abby had a boyfriend named tommy

[hugemilkshake]

May I have friendship head canons for the Cheese Kingdom crew? What they'd be like as friends or what they'd like to do with y/n Cookie for fun? Thanks! :)

Enjoy the milkshake! I waited until the second part of the burning spice update to come out for this since we’d get smoked cheese

Also I was tempted to not put olive cookie here bc I don’t like her-

Golden Cheese Kingdom friendship Headcannons!

Golden Cheese

Golden Cheese will be the type of friend to spoil you and give you gifts

She will make you go to a spa with her, don’t fight her on it

Your honestly her support system due to how far the other ancients are and the cookie kingdom are, it’s hard to connect with them

So you honestly are someone that Golden Cheese considers a great treasure

Golden Cheese will use her wings to cocoon you in warmth (even though the dessert is pretty warm already-)

Olive Cookie

Info dumping info dumping Info dumping info dumping Info dumping info dump-

She would love to tell you everything about archaeology (you occasionally get annoyed with this)

She will shut up if you get annoyed with her but she will be sad

Honestly if you have an interest your really passionate about she will listen to you as well

Do expect to be dragged out to the dessert for little research expeditions

Burnt Cheese

Burnt Cheese might not say much, but you can tell that he enjoys your company

Very much uses actions over words to express how much he cares about you

Tbh you will always get a free pass it I the kingdom, you never need to do any of the soul weighing stuff, your a homie.

You also get to pet the jackals whenever, if Burnt Cheese is cool with you, your cool with them

Mozzarella Cookie

Honestly she’s very chill. You could probably say the wildest shit and she will be like “okay go off✨”

Now she will place bets with you a lot, what can she say? She loves a good gamble

You will be taken to any sort of gladiator monster battle because those are fun right?

One of the less risky things she likes to do is to let you do her hair, it might not stay in whatever shape you make it but it’s calming

Smoked Cheese

Honestly it would take A LOT to befriend this man. He’s a little sus of outsiders ngl.

But once you befriend him, he’s quite loyal

If your not good with sarcasm then you will suffer, Smoked Cheese is VERY sarcastic to default

But in the end, Smoked Cheese can be a pretty good friend if you give him a chance

Fettuccine Cookie

Fettuccine Cookie can be quite curious so do bear with her

She also isn’t much of a talker, but she’ll gladly listen to you ramble for hours

She will try to give you gifts, most of the time they are handmade and honestly well made at that!

She’s just glad you are her friend :3

[aryesdanger24]

Can I just say that I love how many layers there are surrounding Sevika and her change towards Jinx....because...

1. Sevika misses Silco (perhaps it was the stable chaos or something to do to stop thinking of the suffering. Perhaps she truly likes to protects things in her own way.) It shows in the way she is not utterly messing up the Chem Barons, it's because she misses not making every decision.

2. Jinx is the mess Silco left her, the last one.

She is what is left of his legacy and it is the last thing that ties her to him since as she said "everything he made has crumbled, everything they built" but Jinx is still there, a testament of his life. One who mirrors Silco in his chaotic wish for stability where he finally is in control. Jinx is the opposite of Silco yet the same, she is fighting against topside (her sister who betrayed her) much like Silco but where he needed manpower, Jinx needs mental support.

Jinx needs control like Silco to balance her mental health to create a peace of mind under the sheer power of her own mental trauma. Sevika is what Silco created and she intends to make sure his legacy lives.

3. Sevika finally sees what Silco saw in Jinx.

She could see it when Jinx, without needing to, gave her a literal helping hand. Improved it even to mirror the new era of chaos the undercity is brewing.

When Jinx said it was because she could fix something, it shows a vulnerability and a strength to grow. It shows that Jinx has matured and Sevika is recognizing that Jinx won't always be the bratty psychopath whom she couldn't understand anymore. That, like Silco, there are layers underneath it, a loyalty much like Sevika's to the footprints left behind by Silco.

4. Sevika enjoys serving others.

It shows in the way she states her allegiance even if she disagrees.

She seems to need to not be completely alone, perhaps she has alcohol problems or a deep festering brain that rambles or just something that won't leave her be. She likes to be in control with someone she deems weaker (thus why she traded Vander for Silco) she doesn't follow weak people, but that's the thing. She follows, she never leads even when she is the oldest between Jinx and the little girl Isha. She prefers to help someone than hold the responsibility and all the irritating moralistic choices. (Which is why I believe she doesn't like to think much by herself).

So yeah.... I really enjoy this new Sevika changing arc happening, but it's more or less just showing how deep these layers go will be more interesting because I don't think she even realizes how much she has feelings because they are veiled beneath the word 'loyalty' for her.

Curious to see how deep the change runs but God I love a buff queen.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

"In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency, too, to fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails.

We are needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear. Didn’t you say you were a believer? Didn’t you say you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn’t you ask for grace? Don’t you remember that to be in grace means to submit to the voice greater?

Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good.

What is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take everyone on Earth to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale.

One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul.

Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times.

The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these – to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity.

Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

There will always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it. I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate.

The reason is this: In my uttermost bones I know something, as do you. It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours. They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for."

~Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Archaeology for the Woman's Soul

[miifu666]

Hi I’m a big fan of your blog , love how you draw the characters!!

How do you think monkey king and suklha would court each other.

Helloww ♡♡♡

Funny you ask that!!! 😭 i just finished a doodle about that too!

Since Wukong's a hot tempered and unpredictable monkey king with a high self esteem. I like to add a bit of Monkey facts in his behaviour. Ofc besides the fighting the gods to keep his lover i dont think thats normal monke

From what i know, male monkeys usually start the flirting to enter a sort of consortship with the female. So i believe, Wukong despite the virgin that he is. Would be the first one to show interest.

Monkeys usually spend time with their future mate during courtship, so i figured instead of eating and talking to eachother to spend time. Wukong would challenge Suklha during the first few stages of courtship, if Suklha manages to outwit him he would let out these noises thats a mix of excited chirps and amused chuckles. Seeing Suklha managed to beat him in his own challenge is akin to her saying

"oh you're good, but ill try and beat you to show you im capable of being beside you"

even better when Suklha lets him groom her properly, it would take hours upon hours for him to show her that he's a good mate to keep her pretty and light colored hair clean. Suklha sitting down and waiting for him to finish, only to groom him back with her own pinchers is a sign that she accepted Wukong's feelings. (In his head anyway)

This works with Suklha, too. Centipedes spend time with their mates to start the mating ritual. Female centipedes usually release certain pheromones to attract the male interest. Wukong might notice how she has a more enzymatic scent, floral and berry-like, reminding him of the tree peaches in flower fruit mountain. This works with monkeys, although i think they release a certain odour when they want to mate rather than... courtship-

This in turn, makes Wukong more physically affectionate towards Suklha. His hands never leaving her waist whenever they talk to someone, glaring at anyone who dares to come pick her up like some sort of harlot. Wukong would compliment her to make her pay attention to him more whenever they're in public, of course this is Wukong. Hes not that good with compliments-

Suklha : you dimwit! Ive told you before how to do it!

Wukong : It seemed like i was right at first! Why are you getting so mad over! Just because you're decent-looking doesn't mean you can reprimand me however you like!

Suklha : ...?

Wukong , counting his fingers : Smart, quick-witted, courteous! Just because you're all that doesn't mean you can shout at me all you want!!

Suklha : i..

Wukong : AND STOP LOOKING SO GOOD

Suklha : IM BREATHING???

Wukong : WELL YOU LOOK GOOD DOING IT

Lastly, it would be a hard way to recognize but Wukong would speak towards her with a deeper tone of voice than usual. He'd even try to talk to her more calmly than yelling high-pitched like usual.

He'll smile more and probably do anything, yes even kill some demons and yaoguai to get an object of her desire or something that reminds him of her. Like a red jacket he saw in a village near the mountains, he'll snatch it and put it on Suklha without any word. Not even a "here's a new jacket" nope. They're already this deep in the courtship stage, she should understand what he means when he gives her things. He might glare at Suklha whenever he sees her missing the object he's given her, no words, just bites and glares.

All in all, it would be a bit chaotic. Like seeing your two best friends slowly getting together. Especially Suklha who despite showing interest in the courtship, suddenly denied Wukong of her answer after his proposal. Of course, this isn't done out of spite. She knows the consequences of accepting his proposal and she wont let a creature of this world suffer due to her. Suklha is a trickster, but she still has a heart.

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

Forget-Pope Heyward

Wearning: +18,smut, english is not my first language.

As you are at the Pogues' shelter, you notice immediately that Pope is sitting on the sidelines, staring into space. Not the usual Pope, always ready to joke or make jokes with others. There is something different about him, a shadow you have never seen before. You decide to come closer, sitting next to him in silence, waiting for him to speak.

After a few minutes, when you realize that it doesn’t mean anything, break the silence: "Hey, are you all right? You seem... distracted."

Pope shakes his head, without even looking at you. "No."

Feel a pinch to the heart seeing that sad expression he rarely shows. Gently, put a hand on his shoulder. "Would you like to tell me?"

He sighs, looking up at the horizon. "I confessed to Kiara that... I have feelings for her. I’m in love."

You bite your lip, surprise. It’s a confession you didn’t expect, but something inside of you understands why it is so broken.

"And she... what did she say?" you ask, the voice just whispering.

Pope shrugs his shoulders, a bitter smile popping up on his lips. "He said he doesn’t see me that way. That... that I’m just a friend to her. Just a friend." His voice breaks, and you feel the pain behind every word.

You can’t help but come closer, putting a hand on his face to make him turn towards you. "Oh, Pope... I’m really sorry."

He looks down, visibly embarrassed. "I feel stupid for hoping for it. I was really naive, wasn’t I?"

You shake your head, gently hugging him. "No, it’s not stupid to love someone. In fact, it shows how special you are. Not everyone would have the courage to be as sincere as you."

Hearing your reassuring voice, Pope drops himself into your arms, his head resting against your chest. Gently start to rub your fingers in his hair, rubbing his head in a comforting way. He closes his eyes, letting himself be lulled by your touch.

"Thank you... really," he whispers in a low voice, his voice charged with emotion. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

Smile softly, and keep rubbing. "You don’t have to thank me, Pope. I’ll always be there for you. You’re important to me, you know?"

Pope looks up, his eyes meet yours. "Really?"

Nod, tightening it more. "More than you can imagine."

He remains in silence, enjoying this moment between you. And for the first time, it seems that the weight on his heart is lightening a little.

You keep running your fingers through his hair with infinite sweetness, while he stands there, quiet, almost lost in your arms. See how his breath becomes slower, deeper, as you realize that your proximity is calming him down. Without thinking too much, you bend slightly and leave a light kiss on his forehead.

Pope barely looks up, surprised, but he doesn’t move away. You observe him, looking for a trace of discomfort, but on the contrary, see the way his lips bend into a small smile as he lets go, enjoying your attention.

Then let your heart guide you. Gently, you remove your hair from his face and put another kiss, this time closer to the temple, slow and light, as if to calm him even more. Pope closes his eyes, letting himself go, and a small sigh escapes from his lips. It almost seems that the pain he felt for Kiara is disappearing, replaced by something different, sweeter.

"Do you like it?" you whisper softly, with a shy smile as you continue to leave little kisses on that soft skin.

He nods, without opening his eyes, and you feel encouraged to continue. Your kisses become more frequent, glide on her cheek, then along the line of her jaw, always light as a feather. And each time, he sighs, relaxing more and more in your arms.

"Pope," you moron, and you continue to cuddle him, "you don’t deserve to suffer like that for someone who can’t see how special you are."

He opens his eyes, looking at you with a sweet and grateful look. "Thank you... really. I don’t know what I would do without you."

Smile, caressing his hair again and leaving a last kiss on his forehead. "I will always be there, Pope. And if you need to forget... To leave everything behind... I’m here."

A slight blush colors his cheeks, and you hear him sighing again, as if the weight he was carrying inside were finally melting.

As your kisses come closer and closer to his lips, you feel Pope’s breath getting heavier. Leave a small kiss at the corner of his mouth, a taste, barely touching his lips without entering completely, like an invitation just mentioned.

Pope looks at you, his eyes full of something new, a desire you’ve never seen before. There is a moment of silence between you two, a tension that seems to fill the air, while your heart beats faster.

You smile and, without saying a word, you approach again, this time more firmly taking her lips between yours. Her breath stops for a moment, but she doesn’t back away. On the contrary, as soon as your lips rest on his, he immediately returns the kiss, with an intensity you did not expect.

His hands gently rest on your hips as he lets go, completely caught in the moment. The kiss becomes deeper, and you feel how all his sadness, his pain, turns into a pure sweetness, as if you were his refuge, the only place where he can really feel loved.

When you leave, he looks at you, still breathing heavily, with a light in your eyes that you had never seen. "I don’t know what to say... I didn’t think I could forget so, so easily..." whispers, his voice just a whisper.

You smile at him, caressing his cheek. "You must say nothing, Pope. I’m there for you. I’ll always be there."

Your lips return to seek his, and this time the kiss becomes deeper, more intense, as you feel his hands clutching you, as if he is afraid of losing you at that instant. Your heart beats fast, and without thinking too much, you move, putting yourself on his horse.

Pope looks at you, surprised, but not protesting. On the contrary, his gaze becomes more intense, his eyes shine with a desire that he no longer tries to hide. His hands gently rest on your hips, and you feel a shiver running down your back as you come even closer.

Keep kissing, with new energy, as if the world around you had disappeared and there were only you two. Every time your lips separate from his, he looks at you as if he doesn’t want to stop, as if that moment is all he needs.

You let go, cradled by that sweet and emotional kiss. His hands slowly caress your back, making you feel protected and desired at the same time. Each kiss feels deeper than the previous one, and your breaths mix together, creating an intimacy you’ve never felt before.

Start slowly lifting your shirt to remove it and you do the same with her shirt and then take off the rest of your clothes.

Pope looked at you with pure desire seeing you naked and as you were stooping towards his erection which became harder and harder and started to hurt him.

You looked at him and put your hands on his thighs as you started licking his cock making him moan and have him put a hand on his mouth knowing that kiara and jj could hear them.

"shit y/n" said Pope softly as you took all his cock in your mouth while watching him.

He moans loudly about how well you were sucking him and how you were looking at him. Even though she was trying to hide her groans you were intent on making him scream more, you wanted kiara to hear what she was missing.

You took your mouth off his cock as you started to stroke his balls and dick with your hand while you were smiling at him. "come on baby, don’t hide your moans... make everyone feel how good I’m making you feel" you said to him and he took his hand out of his mouth and started moaning while he was enjoying the handjob you were doing.

You smiled while you kept sawing him "you have such a big dick, kiara is so stupid" you told him moaning when you put his cock back in your mouth while with your hand you continued playing with his balls.

Pope moans loudly putting a hand on your head to push himself further inside you. "shit y/n, you’re making me feel so good," she said moaning and closing her eyes for a moment feeling like she was about to cum.

He started banging his hips more violently towards your mouth to get you to take all his cock and you moaned vibrating his cock and making Pope grunt. "Fuck, fuck," he said, complaining as he was about to finish.

Even if you weren’t breathing, you kept sucking and licking it with your tongue to make it come. With two more pushes towards your mouth he spilled you inside your mouth and you sucked and swallowed all his cum.

You gave him one last lick and then took his cock out of your mouth and kissed him on the tip making him moan while he looked at you with a smile.

Pope grabbed your hips to get you to ride him to get you straight to his dick and you went in one shot and started riding his cock while both of you moaned. Your groans were getting louder and louder.

"Fuck you guys, get a room instead of fucking in the living room" yelled jj across the room making you and pope laugh.

You kissed Pope gently as you continued to ride his cock and you groaned through your kisses.

[loveafterdeath-if]

Echo.. I don't know what to say. Spoilers ahead, be warned.

The way you portrait the love between MC and E is absolutely beautiful. You immediately get the sense of their deep connection and wish it would last forever. For them to get kids (or a dog) and grow old together and see their kids raise their grandkids and... You get the picture. 🥲

Also, a character with flaws! High maintenance and an adorable, loving husband anyways. And the wrinkles tick, omg, the wrinkles. 😭 As I met with the doc and the MC straighted down imaginary wrinkles I cried all over! 😭

At first, as I read the prologue I thought if it wouldn't be more impactful, when we didn't know of the accident immediately.. But lord, you got me so invested in E that it hurt baaaad and was a shock anyways! Really, really good writing! ❤️

And the other characters, how everybody wants to help MC and even the neighbors come around. The scene with Juliet and the neighbor mother was so touching, how she held MC and protected her. 😭 Even the f* cat that was lovingly named "Nemesis" after hours of MC persuading E... Even the cat that hated our guts starts to be an emotional support throughout it all!

It is a rollercoster of emotions, one time I can't breathe anymore because I cry so hard and the next moment the RO's lift my spirits so much that I sqeal and giggle. 🤭

And the NSFW scene with E... Kyaaaa!!! You delivered. 🥲 What more can I say? Also, I love how you mention male E's "average" size. Finally some diversity in erotica if! So thank you! 🙏

Will we learn more of MCs backstory and the relationship between E and MC? Even if I try to move forward with MC I'm also curious to what all had happened.

Please, please, please continue your story! It was really a treat to read and you got me so emotionally invested that I need more on a visceral level! ❤️

I'll share your story, because I think everyone should read it. It needs more attention, fr.

Much love and I wish you all the best,

Lisa

I love receiving these kinds of asks, reading and re-reading and re-re-reading them just to inflate my ego a bit more.

Firstly, thank you so much for your kind words! Now...

MC's backstory will definitely come to light. I've dropped hints about their past, and MC is not done suffering yet.

However, I don't plan to make y'all cry in every chapter. Crying is good, but it can get boring if I throw too much at MC all at once, in my opinion.

And yes, you'll learn more about the relationship between E and MC. Definitely. Just probably not right away.

[mythologicalmormon]

In light of recent events and my brother having a talk in sacrament tomorrow, I was reminded of a talk that I gave last year that focused on diversity and I thought y’all might appreciate it.

There is a story Jesus told about a Jewish man who was severely injured and left on the side of a road. Various travelers saw him and ignored him, including a Jewish priest. Although the injured man was of the same creed as the priest, the priest continued on his way with no regard for his fellow man. Eventually, a Samaritan man walked by. Now, Samaritans and Jews detested one another. The Samaritan’s preexisting bias would dictate that he, upon seeing the man was a Jew, ignore him as the previous travelers had. However, the Samaritan saw the man suffering and decided to help him no matter their personal and cultural differences. The Samaritan did what the other travelers chose not to and demonstrated true caring for one’s neighbors without regard for bias. The parable of the good Samaritan provides a valuable example for us. Would you take time out of your day to help someone in need, even if they belonged to a group of people whom you dislike or disapprove of? Are you willing to sacrifice your prejudice in an effort to help people belong in the church?

Our Heavenly Father loves diversity. When he created the earth, He did not make everything uniform and identical. He made millions of distinctive and unique species, plants, and other incredible creations. From seahorses to raccoons to peregrine falcons, the creatures on this earth are each special. The same goes for people. The assorted characteristics that differentiate us also make us human. Some of us are short, some of us are gay, some like reading, and others can wiggle their ears. God doesn’t love us in spite of our diversity, but because of it. He loves diversity. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have made each one of us one-of-a-kind. He wants all of us to belong and to appreciate that which makes us special, just as He does.

Even within the church there is exceptional diversity. In the talk that I am referencing, The Doctrine of Belonging, Elder D. Todd Christofferson says quote “As the long prophesied latter-day gathering of the Lord’s covenant people gains momentum, the Church will truly be composed of members from every nation, kindred, tongue, and people.” When the church was restored, the first members were all white and of European heritage. But diversity is the natural result of having a widespread group, and as the church became more vast, so did the diversity within it. There are millions of members in this church that are of varying colors, backgrounds, genders, and sexualities. There are members who speak languages from the obscure to the well-known. There are members who have medical and mental health problems and members who speak with a stutter or a lisp. Our differences don’t make us less of God’s children, but some among us will belittle and alienate members who are unlike them. God invites all of his children and all of their diversity to partake in his covenants and return to him. We should follow in His example by loving diversity and striving to make everyone know that they belong in our Savior’s church.

Helping people feel and know that they belong in the church requires everyone to let go of their preconceived notions, judgments, and biases. Each and every one of us has prejudices. We discriminate based on serious things such aswhether or not a person has gone to prison or who someone voted for in an election, and we discriminate based on simple things like what music someone listens to or what type of clothes someone wears. Prejudice is often nothing more than a sweeping generalization that misrepresents a group of people. Within church culture, prejudice is unfortunately common and it is counterproductive to helping people feel like they belong in the kingdom of God. The general handbook for the church states, “Prejudice is not consistent with the revealed word of God. Favor or disfavor with God depends on devotion to Him and His commandments, not on the color of a person’s skin or other attributes. The Church calls on all people to abandon attitudes and actions of prejudice toward any group or individual.” When we are prejudiced against a person, we have a mental block that prevents us from helping that child of God feel like they belong. Prejudice gives way to unjustified judgment, which in turn can lead to members of the church feeling out of place in the one setting where they should feel completely at ease.

Everyone in this room, including myself, judges people. We judge people for how they dress when they attend church, how many children they have, how short or long their hair is, or how eloquently they speak, among other things. We may keep our judgment to ourselves, speak it behind someone’s back, or even tell it to their face. Elder Christofferson remarked on this, saying, quote “We may unwittingly impose expectations on others – or even ourselves – that are not the Lord’s expectations. We may communicate in subtle ways that the worth of a soul is based on certain achievements or callings”. In what subtle – or not so subtle- ways do you convey your judgments? When someone who does something you disapprove of walks into a room do you turn your body away from them and avoid including them?

As often as we may cast judgment upon others, it is not our place to do so. Judging our brothers and sisters both within these walls and outside them only splits the kingdom of God. We all sin and we all sin differently. There is a saying: Don’t judge others because they choose to sin differently than you do. Who are we to judge the sins of others? Just because we have opinions on proper etiquette, behavior, and beliefs it doesn’t mean that it is our place to enforce them. They remain opinions only. We will not always know all the details about a situation. We don’t know the circumstances surrounding why a couple has no children. We don’t know if the brother who doesn’t make eye contact has autism or another disorder that makes eye contact difficult. We don’t know what may have happened behind closed doors before a divorce. We don’t know if the sister who uses her phone during class needs to use it to be able to focus. Judging our neighbors can, and frequently does, drive our beloved brothers and sisters away from the church, whereas loving our neighbors as Jesus loves us will help them to know that they belong here with us.

Elder Christofferson also stated, quote, “It is a sad irony when someone, feeling he or she doesn’t meet the ideal in all aspects of life, concludes that he or she doesn’t belong in the very organization designed by God to help us progress toward the ideal”. Perfection does not happen in this life, and yet in church culture we often make it seem as if perfection is a prerequisite for salvation.Such an unreasonable expectation creates an unnecessary divide in the church. We do not have to do certain things to belong in this church. Every single person on this earth belongs in Heavenly Father’s kingdom, no matter their past sins, current situations, and future mistakes.

There are things that people believe are “required” to be a worthy disciple. Regarding the passing of the sacrament, some hold the belief that every young man must be clean shaven, devoid of jewlery, have short hair, and wear a white shirt and tie. The Lord, however has made it a simple act of reverence and service, with the only requirement being that, “Those who administer the sacrament should be well groomed and clean. They should not wear clothing or jewelry that might detract from the worship and covenant making that are the purpose of the sacrament.” This is an example of a church culture misconception and is only one of many others which are geared towards being perfect in this life. Every worthy and able young man has been asked to prepare for and serve a mission. However, serving a mission is not a requirement to hold the priesthood and to serve the Lord throughout their lives. We have been given free agency, and it is not our place to judge when an individual chooses not to serve a mission or when a missionary returns home early. Some members cannot fathom saying no to a calling even if they know that their personal circumstances would clearly be incompatible with the calling at that time. How are our sisters and brothers within the church supposed to know that they belong when we make them feel like they have to be this picture-perfect human being?

If we want to gather Israel, we cannot only minister to those whom we feel comfortable with. Our baptismal covenants did not say to “Bear our friends’ burdens and only our friends' burdens; mourn with only those whom we feel comfortable with; comfort only those whom we like.” They said to, “bear other’s burdens, that they may be light, mourn with those that mourn; and comfort those in need of comfort.” The language in our baptismal covenants does not exclude any of God’s children, so why do we?

When you see someone who doesn’t seem to be included, make a point to talk to them. If a brother or sister stops attending church, reach out to them. Show those around you that they belong, even if it means that you have to step out of your comfort zone. Don’t be afraid to be a voice for others when there’s an untoward joke or when someone is being talked about behind their back. Love those in need of love, even those nobody spares a glance for. Be like our Savior in all that you do, and you will show those around you how much they belong.