#informousmuses

[fantasmalforces]

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ OC Personality Type ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

TAGGED BY: @informousmuses

TAGGING: @a-tired-birds-ramblings​ (Lysander), @maximuses (Dave), and @informousmuses (Tomo!) and anybody else who wants to!

RULES: Go to this website and take the test as one of your OCs! Then, put their stats as follows!

MUSE: Elana O’Gara

Personality Type: The Protagonist (ENFJ-A)

“Protagonists are natural-born leaders, full of passion and charisma. Forming around two percent of the population, they are oftentimes our politicians, our coaches and our teachers, reaching out and inspiring others to achieve and to do good in the world. With a natural confidence that begets influence, Protagonists take a great deal of pride and joy in guiding others to work together to improve themselves and their community. Protagonists are genuine, caring people who talk the talk and walk the walk, and nothing makes them happier than leading the charge, uniting and motivating their team with infectious enthusiasm. People with the Protagonist personality type are passionate altruists, sometimes even to a fault, and they are unlikely to be afraid to take the slings and arrows while standing up for the people and ideas they believe in. It is no wonder that many famous Protagonists are cultural or political icons – this personality type wants to lead the way to a brighter future, whether it’s by leading a nation to prosperity, or leading their little league softball team to a hard-fought victory. “

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Mind: This trait determines how we interact with our environment.

Extraverted: 78% – Introverted: 22%

Energy: This trait shows where we direct our mental energy.

Intuitive: 63% – Observant: 37%

Nature: This trait determines how we make decisions and cope with emotions.

Thinking: 49% – Feeling: 51%

Tactics: This trait reflects our approach to work, planning and decision-making.

Judging: 65% – Prospecting: 35%

Identity: This trait underpins all others, showing how confident we are in our abilities and decisions.

Assertive: 72% – Turbulent: 28%

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“ Everything you do right now ripples outward and affects everyone. Your posture can shine your heart or transmit anxiety. Your breath can radiate love or muddy the room in depression. Your glance can awaken joy. Your words can inspire freedom. Your every act can open hearts and minds. “

- DAVID DEIDA

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Strengths:

Tolerant – Protagonists are true team players, and they recognize that that means listening to other peoples’ opinions, even when they contradict their own. They admit they don’t have all the answers, and are often receptive to dissent, so long as it remains constructive.

Reliable – The one thing that galls Protagonists the most is the idea of letting down a person or cause they believe in. If it’s possible, Protagonists can always be counted on to see it through.

Charismatic – Charm and popularity are qualities Protagonists have in spades. They instinctively know how to capture an audience, and pick up on mood and motivation in ways that allow them to communicate with reason, emotion, passion, restraint – whatever the situation calls for. Talented imitators, Protagonists are able to shift their tone and manner to reflect the needs of the audience, while still maintaining their own voice.

Altruistic – Uniting these qualities is Protagonists’ unyielding desire to do good in and for their communities, be it in their own home or the global stage. Warm and selfless, Protagonists genuinely believe that if they can just bring people together, they can do a world of good.

Natural Leaders – More than seeking authority themselves, Protagonists often end up in leadership roles at the request of others, cheered on by the many admirers of their strong personality and positive vision.

Weaknesses:

Overly Idealistic – People with the Protagonist personality type can be caught off guard as they find that, through circumstance or nature, or simple misunderstanding, people fight against them and defy the principles they’ve adopted, however well-intentioned they may be. They are more likely to feel pity for this opposition than anger, and can earn a reputation of naïveté.

Too Selfless – Protagonists can bury themselves in their hopeful promises, feeling others’ problems as their own and striving hard to meet their word. If they aren’t careful, they can spread themselves too thin, and be left unable to help anyone.

Too Sensitive – While receptive to criticism, seeing it as a tool for leading a better team, it’s easy for Protagonists to take it a little too much to heart. Their sensitivity to others means that Protagonists sometimes feel problems that aren’t their own and try to fix things they can’t fix, worrying if they are doing enough.

Fluctuating Self-Esteem – Protagonists define their self-esteem by whether they are able to live up to their ideals, and sometimes ask for criticism more out of insecurity than out of confidence, always wondering what they could do better. If they fail to meet a goal or to help someone they said they’d help, their self-confidence will undoubtedly plummet.

Struggle to Make Tough Decisions – If caught between a rock and a hard place, Protagonists can be stricken with paralysis, imagining all the consequences of their actions, especially if those consequences are humanitarian.

[deepweboutlxws]

20. Florence and Dmitry ( @informousmuses )

Smutty Scenarios | ACCEPTING

20. Pushing the boundaries

Generally speaking, the couple were happy living a modest, comfortable life together. Aside from the incredible height difference, the two seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. They baked together, decorated together, watched movies together, shopped together, cuddled together. They never fought, and they were always good to each other. A model couple in every sense of the word.

So when one afternoon they decided to go out picnicking, no one thought anything of it. A quiet walk through the woods, a nice lunch spent swapping stories and laughing together, maybe a bit of cloudgazing and talking about the future. And indeed that is what happened. But as their conversation took a turn, Dmitry suddenly found himself overcome with a passion for his darling partner and could help but plant many kisses on her face, rolling around with her in the grass playfully, until he found himself lying over her and smothering her with more kisses. It began so softly, so delicately, but once she ran her fingers through his hair, it suddenly felt so much more passionate, so much more intimate. So much needier. And when the two parted, they could see mutual desire in each other’s eyes.

The woods were fairly private around where they lived, they were certain no one would interrupt them. And so under the warm sun and through the cool breezes of the afternoon, they laid together and made love. Their soft sounds intermingled with the first music of spring, bodies intertwining, fingers catching fingers, soft declarations of love and passionate murmurs echoing as the two enjoyed each other’s company and traded more than just stories.

[vendettacanons]

⚔️ OC Personality Type Meme ⚔️

TAGGED BY: @informousmuses​

TAGGING: Anybody who feels like doing it!

RULES: Go to this website and take the test as one of your muses! Then, put their stats as follows!

MUSE: Lester Crest

Personality Type: The Logistician (ISTJ-T)

“ The Logistician personality type is thought to be the most abundant, making up around 13% of the population. Their defining characteristics of integrity, practical logic and tireless dedication to duty make Logisticians a vital core to many families, as well as organizations that uphold traditions, rules and standards, such as law offices, regulatory bodies and military. People with the Logistician personality type enjoy taking responsibility for their actions, and take pride in the work they do – when working towards a goal, Logisticians hold back none of their time and energy completing each relevant task with accuracy and patience. 

Logisticians don’t make many assumptions, preferring instead to analyze their surroundings, check their facts and arrive at practical courses of action. Logistician personalities are no-nonsense, and when they’ve made a decision, they will relay the facts necessary to achieve their goal, expecting others to grasp the situation immediately and take action. Logisticians have little tolerance for indecisiveness, but lose patience even more quickly if their chosen course is challenged with impractical theories, especially if they ignore key details – if challenges becomes time-consuming debates, Logisticians can become noticeably angry as deadlines tick nearer.

Associate With Those of Good Quality if You Esteem Your Reputation... When Logisticians say they are going to get something done, they do it, meeting their obligations no matter the personal cost, and they are baffled by people who don’t hold their own word in the same respect. Combining laziness and dishonesty is the quickest way to get on Logisticians’ bad side. Consequently, people with the Logistician personality type often prefer to work alone, or at least have their authority clearly established by hierarchy, where they can set and achieve their goals without debate or worry over other’s reliability.

Logisticians have sharp, fact-based minds, and prefer autonomy and self-sufficiency to reliance on someone or something. Dependency on others is often seen by Logisticians as a weakness, and their passion for duty, dependability and impeccable personal integrity forbid falling into such a trap.

This sense of personal integrity is core to Logisticians, and goes beyond their own minds – Logistician personalities adhere to established rules and guidelines regardless of cost, reporting their own mistakes and telling the truth even when the consequences for doing so could be disastrous. To Logisticians, honesty is far more important than emotional considerations, and their blunt approach leaves others with the false impression that Logisticians are cold, or even robotic. People with this type may struggle to express emotion or affection outwardly, but the suggestion that they don’t feel, or worse have no personality at all, is deeply hurtful.

...For It Is Better to Be Alone Than in Bad Company

Logisticians’ dedication is an excellent quality, allowing them to accomplish much, but it is also a core weakness that less scrupulous individuals take advantage of. Logisticians seek stability and security, considering it their duty to maintain a smooth operation, and they may find that their coworkers and significant others shift their responsibilities onto them, knowing that they will always take up the slack. Logisticians tend to keep their opinions to themselves and let the facts do the talking, but it can be a long time before observable evidence tells the whole story.

Logisticians need to remember to take care of themselves – their stubborn dedication to stability and efficiency can compromise those goals in the long term as others lean ever-harder on them, creating an emotional strain that can go unexpressed for years, only finally coming out after it’s too late to fix. If they can find coworkers and spouses who genuinely appreciate and complement their qualities, who enjoy the brightness, clarity and dependability that they offer, Logisticians will find that their stabilizing role is a tremendously satisfying one, knowing that they are part of a system that works. ”

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Mind: This trait determines how we interact with our environment.

Extraverted: 6% – Introverted: 94%

Energy: This trait shows where we direct our mental energy.

Intuitive: 47% – Observant: 53%

Nature: This trait determines how we make decisions and cope with emotions.

Thinking: 79% – Feeling: 21%

Tactics: This trait reflects our approach to work, planning and decision-making.

Judging: 76% – Prospecting: 24%

Identity: This trait underpins all others, showing how confident we are in our abilities and decisions.

Assertive: 12% – Turbulent: 88%

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“My observation is that whenever one person is found adequate to the discharge of a duty... it is worse executed by two persons, and scarcely done at all if three or more are employed therein. “

- GEORGE WASHINGTON

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Strengths:

Honest and Direct – Integrity is the heart of the Logistician personality type. Emotional manipulation, mind games and reassuring lies all run counter to Logisticians’ preference for managing the reality of the situations they encounter with plain and simple honesty.

Strong-willed and Dutiful – Logisticians embody that integrity in their actions too, working hard and staying focused on their goals. Patient and determined, people with the Logistician personality type meet their obligations, period.

Very Responsible – Logisticians’ word is a promise, and a promise means everything. Logisticians would rather run themselves into the ground with extra days and lost sleep than fail to deliver the results they said they would. Loyalty is a strong sentiment for Logistician personalities, and they fulfill their duties to the people and organizations they’ve committed themselves to.

Calm and Practical – None of their promises would mean much if Logisticians lost their tempers and broke down at every sign of hardship – they keep their feet on the ground and make clear, rational decisions. Peoples’ preferences are a factor to consider in this process, and Logisticians work to make the best use of individual qualities, but these decisions are made with effectiveness in mind more so than empathy. The same applies to criticisms, for others and themselves.

Create and Enforce Order – The primary goal of any Logistician is to be effective in what they’ve chosen to do, and they believe that this is accomplished best when everyone involved knows exactly what is going on and why. Unclear guidelines and people who break established rules undermine this effort, and are rarely tolerated by Logisticians. Structure and rules foster dependability; chaos creates unforeseen setbacks and missed deadlines.

Jacks-of-all-trades – Much like Analyst personality types, Logisticians are proud repositories of knowledge, though the emphasis is more on facts and statistics than concepts and underlying principles. This allows Logisticians to apply themselves to a variety of situations, picking up and applying new data and grasping the details of challenging situations as a matter of course.

Weaknesses:

Stubborn – The facts are the facts, and Logisticians tend to resist any new idea that isn’t supported by them. This factual decision-making process also makes it difficult for people with the Logistician personality type to accept that they were wrong about something – but anyone can miss a detail, even them.

Insensitive – While not intentionally harsh, Logisticians often hurt more sensitive types’ feelings by the simple mantra that honesty is the best policy. Logistician personalities may take emotions into consideration, but really only so far as to determine the most effective way to say what needs to be said.

Always by the Book – Logisticians believe that things work best with clearly defined rules, but this makes them reluctant to bend those rules or try new things, even when the downside is minimal. Truly unstructured environments leave Logisticians all but paralyzed.

Judgmental – Opinions are opinions and facts are facts, and Logisticians are unlikely to respect people who disagree with those facts, or especially those who remain willfully ignorant of them.

Often Unreasonably Blame Themselves – All this can combine to make Logisticians believe they are the only ones who can see projects through reliably. As they load themselves with extra work and responsibilities, turning away good intentions and helpful ideas, Logisticians sooner or later hit a tipping point where they simply can’t deliver. Since they’ve heaped the responsibility on themselves, Logisticians then believe the responsibility for failure is theirs alone to bear.

[fantasmalforces]

“Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” || Shobol the Brute and Alma || @informousmuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Soft Fluff Starter Drabbles | ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @informousmuses ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

Working at the tavern wasn’t so bad, Alma supposed. It kept decent coin in her pocket, she never had to worry about where her next meal would come from or finding a place to sleep. On occasion, she helped entertain, and overall, it kept a decent cover for what she really was. The only downside was the fact that, compared to many of the other people of this land, Alma stuck out like a sore thumb. Her skin was always pristinely clean. She had freckles that spanned the length of its pallid beauty, and fiery red curls that hung down past her shoulders. Sparkling blue eyes put sapphires to shame. She was a rather exotic beauty, and for that— paired with her wonderful work ethic and shyness that made her rather quiet— she often drew a lot of unwanted attention from men. Most of it she was oblivious to, and so many boneheads took it as rejection or disinterest. Some persisted, to which she was still none the wiser. The few times she did catch the flirting, she found it off putting and often retreated to the kitchen to hide. But not today it seemed.

While working a shift wiping down the counter, her attention was caught by the stuttering orc who had been order mead by the bucket it seemed. Ever the polite face, she came over to him and asked him if he needed food or a refill or the like. In stead, she was quite surprised to be the one receiving something other than an empty plate or mug. A hand rose to her chest as she carefully clasped the bouquet of mountain flowers in her small, delicate hands. She gasped, blue eyes widening in surprise as she looked at them and then to the orc.

“Aww, thank you!” She flushed, touched by the kindhearted gesture. “These look beautiful, I really appreciate it!”

She stopped to admire the wondrous reds and blue and violets of the mountain flowers, eyes kidding slightly as she thought of how nice they would look tucked in the vase right by her bedside. She leaned down to sniff them and purred in delight at how wonderful they smelled. Truly, the gift made her beam with such a radiance that she’d never shown before. She gave the orc another thankful smile and retreated to tuck them away in a safe corner of the kitchen to retrieve later. When she returned, it was with another plate of sweet rolls in hand— a complimentary gift from her in return for the sweet rolls. She set the tray down, one of her hands making a reach for his. She looked like she was about to say something so fond with those soft pink lips of her, when the sound of shouting behind him caught her attention. She stopped her words in her throat, hand coming to rest on the countertop instead as she leaned around him to see a fight breaking out between some patrons. Sighing, the little woman politely excused herself and went to the back to get the tavern owner and inform them of the situation. It was getting to be such a wonderful moment too, such a shame that a couple of milk-drinkers had to go and ruin it.

So far, this was the closest Shobol had ever gotten.

[fantasmalforces]

"i got you, baby" || Michael de Santa and Ellie || @maximuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Less Cringey USFW Intimacy Memes | ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @informousmuses ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

There was something so reassuring to Ellie about those words.

It had been a long time since she’d had the opportunity to let loose and enjoy herself. If it was running across the city all day and keeping places from burning down, then it was sitting a desk filling out paperwork and listening to half her coworkers mumble on about topics she didn’t quite understand and the other half make fun of the Mythics in the workplace, pulling their tails, flashing muzzles and collars at them, and antagonizing them until someone ended up getting nipped. And if it wasn’t work, then it was taking care of Thomas. He needed her now more than ever. The sudden move across the country had been rough on his already straggling immune system. He’d warmed up to the place and their new housemate, he was getting used to the new schools and daycares, but he still needed Ellie a lot of the time. Now that things had finally began to wind down and relax, Ellie felt herself craving a bit of freedom and the opportunity to let herself go once in a while like she used to. And luckily for her, Michael and her had the opportunity to get a bit closer over time. Acting as someone’s wife by order of the government had a funny way of causing actual chemistry it seemed.

Being a bit out of practice (or perhaps it was just because of her breed), Elana was a bit nervous. Even Michael, with his strong arms and incredible warmth, those amazingly blue eyes and that charming smile he flashed her right before he kissed her wasn’t enough to settle her. The entire time they were working on getting her clothes off, she kept shifting from foot to foot, moving around and unable to keep still. First she wanted to kiss his face, then his neck, then his chest, then his face again, then his belly— anxiousness really clouded her ability to determine just what she wanted to do first. Though to a degree, Michael chuckled at the uncoordinated excitement. It was still nice to know he was wanted by someone. Eventually, he managed to get a hold on the dogfolk who kept buzzing around him and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. It was enough to get Ellie to stop in her tracks and when he pulled away, he only pulled her closer. Her eyes wound around his neck and her muscles shivered as she settled against him, feeling those firm hands find their grips on her and steady her in place against him. And those words made all of her nerve stop firing at once.

She lurched forward to kiss him again, catching him a bit off guard. Not that he complained. He kissed back, relishing in the feeling of how good of a kisser she was when she was concentrated on it, how her hands reached up to card through his hair, how they massaged his shoulders, felt over his chest. He felt her smile and he smiled back into it. And then he felt her smile widen. He felt her tail start to wag and a little giggle escaped her. It was infectious it seemed. Before long, the both of them were laughing between and into their kisses, caressing each other close and falling into bed together. It didn’t even take away from the mood— this was fun. This was enjoyable in the way that intimacy was meant to be. Taking turns kissing each other, fingers trailing along the roads of each other’s bodies, memorizing the map that went along with it, finding out where all the best places to visit were, mumbling sweet nothings to each other between it all. Even touching each other was playful, all smiles and savory words as they caught tastes of each other. Cherishing each other’s sounds as they tried to keep a steady stream of the nosies flowing. When they finally connected, it was like heaven. Or a funhouse. It was some world caught between and it was bliss.

The two of them spared the occasional laughs as they wrapped themselves around such other. Hands never stopped exploring, mouth never stopped moving, whether it was words or incomprehensible noises or leaving marks. The two moved against one another with a passion that went unmatched among previous partners. The sweet nothings didn’t stop, even if a faintly competitive edge had been mixed in with the honeyed words. They teased each other, they enjoyed each other. They loved each other the way they were supposed, even when the pace picked up and things got a bit a rougher, and when they finally reached their climax, they hesitated to pull apart. They stayed together, not wanting to let go. And then there was a giggle. Then another, and another, until the two of them were laughing between kisses again. Curled and happy. Holding each other close and satisfied.

Maybe the story of how they’d started off wasn’t the best, but the two were damned determine to make the ending a happy one.

[fantasmalforces]

"turn around" || Vicar Max and Flotsam || @maximuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Less Cringey USFW Intimacy Memes | ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @informousmuses ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

A devilish grin played on Sam’s face as he acknowledged the words. With tantalizing slowness, he spun around for his partner, allowing the vicar a more intimate view of his body. He was a rather lucky man after all. Sam was very private about his appearance in its entirety. Not just anyone could see him like this, much less touch all of him like Maximillian got to. He moved so that the light shined across the thin coat of sweat that was already accumulating on his skin from the heat of the moment, the highlights of well-developed muscle on his frame. Pink freckles that lined his neck and shoulders, the gills along his rib cage and the smoothness of his body. There were stray marks along his front, along his hips. The scars along his forearms. When he turned around, he breathed deeply and allowed Max to take in the many scars. The words carved into his skin, bullet wounds and blade wounds, the dark line of where his dorsal fin used to be, the mark at the end of his tailbone where his tail should have been. When Max touched the areas, Sam winced.

It didn’t hurt. It bothered him to an extent, but when Max’s other hand reached to tilt his head to look at him, he saw sincerity in his eyes. He saw warmth, comfort. He still saw love. And it made him breathe out and relax. Max presses a kiss into the crook of his neck and Sam felt his eyes roll back and slip shut as those fingers slowly worked their way across the years of hurt etched into his posterior. He was still loved, still wanted. He moaned when Max bit into his flesh, marking him with a dark hickey. Seemed that his hesitance hadn’t ruined the mood as much as he thought it had. His fingers wove right back up into Maximilian’s hair and he felt himself being pushed back onto the bed. He moaned at the vicar presses up against him, needy and greedy. Sam groaned his name out several times, knowing how much Max loved when he showed him some “respect”. An absentminded hand reached over for the container of Spacer’s Choice lube. Collecting some on his fingers, he reached down between them, stroking the vicar as he continued to lay claim to as much of Sam’s neck as he could. An interruption in the hiring came upon feeling Sam’s touches. Mouths collided, tongues clashing as Max stiffened in his hole. He slipped away to prepare himself, mumbling at how he wished it was Max’s fingers inside him, stretching him apart and prepping him for what was coming next. Max reassured him that what was coming would be unmatched by any fingers.

Accustomed to the faint burning feeling within him, the two adjusted to better wrap around each other. Mouths disconnected as they connected somewhere lower, allowing a flood of noises to escape them as they began at a steady, if a bit rough, pace. Scratching and biting continued, taunting words exchanged for more dark marks as the bed rattled from their lovemaking. Lips were bitten, neck were dark with hickey after wet hickey. There were protests and snaps at each other, nails and teeth being put to good use between harsh panting and a never-ending stream of foul language and groaning with Sam being the main contributor. Something about the way Max moved, the things Max said, it drove him crazy. But he would never admit that. Hence why moments of intimacy such as this tended to last all night.

And last all night it would.

[fantasmalforces]

✶ for something awkward to happen during sex || Helen and Shepard || @informousmuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Less Cringey USFW Intimacy Memes | ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @informousmuses ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

The comforts of a warm bed at the end of a long day of work could not be denied. Neither could the comforts of a lover. With all the work and time they’d been spending apart recently, the two had decided that a nice, passionate evening spent in each other’s arms would be the best way to reconnect after hours upon hours of loveless laboring. There was no greater way to celebrate their achievements and remind themselves why they did what they did.

Laying intertwined in each other’s arms, the air grew hot with labored breaths often interrupted in their pace by hoarse words of love. The sounds of skin meeting skin created a rhythm that their bodies followed, a chorus of moans and groans and deep growls following the tempo they set between themselves. Lips met, fingers interlaced, sweat beaded up on skin at they lost themselves in the love they were making. Concentrated only on each other, the rest of the world faded away. There was nothing to worry about, no business to attend to, no fear to be felt. Nothing else mattered for the rest of the evening. Or at least ten minutes.

Just as they were getting accustomed to their pace and ready to move faster, both jumped at a knock and the sound of the doorknob to the bedroom jiggling. Thankfully, it was locked, stopping whoever had been hoping to barge in in their tracks. The two tensed, pants soft as they tried to figure out what to do. From the other side of the door came the concerned voice of one of their underlings, hoping to ask some last minute questions. The two looked at each other, still half-clasped in each other’s arms, still connected and throbbing to resume their ministrations. It took a moment before Helen cleated her throat and dismissed the man with a firm (or as firm as she could be) order that she’d answer it all tomorrow. There was some insistence but Helen was quick to curb it off by reminding the underling of the time, to which they apologized and proceeded to scurry off.

Adrenaline died down after a moment, the two looked to each other, smiles quirking at the corners of their mouths. They chuckled, then they laughed. They laughed at the circumstances and made to resume their activities with a kiss, wrapping around each other once more. Giggles died down and faded, replaced by the sound of moaning once again. The orchestra continued as they held each other, moving past the awkwardness and indulging themselves in the night.

Come morning, they’d both have a lot to answer for.

[fantasmalforces]

I want the K || Helen and Shepard || @informousmuses

I Want the K | CLOSED

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ RNGesus picked 6 for @informousmuses — a gentle peck ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

When it came to living a life centered around grueling tasks that made up a day’s work, it boiled down to appreciating the little things whenever they came along. A cold drink, a warm bed, a good meal, a gentle peck. Life was hard, nothing was a guarantee except for this very moment. And whenever the moment presented itself, Helen was sure to spare her partner a gentle peck. It said to him all the things she didn’t have the time to. ‘Thank you for your tolerance’ it said. ‘Thank you for all your help, thank you for all your support’, ‘I’m sorry I don’t have more time with you’, ‘I’m sorry to put this on you’. Time, like so many things, was a precious and fleeting resource, just as much as words were for her. Maybe it was because she wasn’t accustomed to having long, deep conversations with anyone (before she had met Shepard at least) or maybe it was because she was just so tired all the time her brain could hardly put together a sentence that wasn’t work-oriented, even on a good day. But words eluded her all the same. Luckily, kissing didn’t require words. It didn’t require talking. It didn’t require explanation. Kissing simply was. It was self-explanatory all on its own. It conveyed emotion, and both of them had learned a long time ago that there was no point in trying to translate the meanings behind emotions. They’d be wasting their already limited breath.

In return, whenever Shepard came around and had a moment to spare, he returned that gentle kiss to Helen. And she always stopped for a moment because it always caught her off guard. His meanings were not the same as hers. He did not apologize or offer her gracious thanks. He was warm and forgiving. His kisses said ‘Don’t worry about it’. They said ‘I love you’. They said ‘It’ll be over soon, we’ll get theough this’, ‘you are strong’, ‘you are brave’. And every time, Helen could feel her heart skip a beat. She could hear his voice even when he was not speaking. She could feel his warmth even long after he’d left her. She could feel him comforting her no matter how far away he’d gotten in those few brief moments since leaving such a simple little kiss on her cheek. And every time, it meant the world to her.

Sometimes, a gentle peck was all they could manage after an arduous day of labor. They would lay together, exhausted and intertwined, unable to move from the ache in their muscles. Maybe all they’d be able to spare was a peck to the arm, to the shoulder, the neck, the head. And still, it would mean more to them than anything else in this life. It would reassure them that they had survived another day, that they were together and well. Never mind tomorrow— they couldn’t know what it might bring. But a gentle peck always reminded them that they were together in this moment, and that they would treasure it with silent kisses, silent smiles, silent warmth in a silent room. They would understand what they were trying to tell each other, even if they couldn’t find the words for it.

‘No matter what happens, I will always love you.’