#because he genuinely trusts her and values her input and would want to hear her side of the story

[tired-fandom-ndn]

The reason why Claudio and Don Pedro didn't tell Benedick about what was going on before the wedding is because he would've run straight to Beatrice and snitched without a second thought and then she would've murdered Claudio in cold blood.

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger || 03

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

A/N: They are back and realer than ever I AM ACTUALLY NOT OK RIGHT NOW PLEASE CRY WITH ME IN MY ASK BOX. OK LOVE YOUUUU!!!

@bulletproofbirdy​ my sweet and beautiful friend! I owe this all to you. Never doubt your brain because, its freaking genius. I love you.

“What did they say?” Yoongi asks, his lips resting on the back of his hand as he leans onto the wooden table.

Seokjin sighs, “They said that they have observed these groups using similar tactics. Rachel has noticed that they encircle the perimeter of the village first and slowly work their way in, Y/N agreed with her observation.”

“Usually raiders blitz their way into a territory, right? We’re obviously dealing with something else here...” Hoseok interjects, looking to his General for answers.

Yoongi’s features tense up, his hand moving to settle onto the table, “I don’t understand what invaders would want with this territory-” He seems to grow irritated, his eyes transfixed upon a map of their current region, “it’s several miles from any meaningful trade route, the port is at least 20 hours by horseback; it makes absolutely no sense.”

Before anyone else can intervene, Yoongi turns his attention to Namjoon, who sits at the other end of the table, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbles furiously in his journal.

“What do you think of this?” Yoongi murmurs.

Namjoon doesn’t look up, he just continues his current task as he responds, “I think it’s time I pay the Meddleways a visit...”

Immediately, tension spreads amongst the group.

Yoongi shakes his head, “I don’t think that’s necessary Namjoon, they-”

Namjoon looks up, pointing his gaze directly at Yoongi, “They are still a threat, hyung. Vengeance is a messy motive sure but, it’s extremely powerful. If they are influenced solely by their desire to harm you for what you did with their leader, they will stop at nothing until their objective is complete.”

The Meddleways were an extremist group that had a nasty habit of weaseling their way into vulnerable villages and, attempting to coax the inhabitants into joining what is essentially a cult. The Queens got wind of their practices and immediately tasked Yoongi’s fleet with understanding more of what they were capable of. Enter Namjoon, posing as a medicine man from the East port who sought after a spiritual awakening. Namjoon lived with the group for just under two weeks before he realized the true nature of the group. Their mission was simple: infiltrate the target village, strip the surrounding area of natural resources and, dismantle their leadership and, infiltrate their religious systems.

They were essentially, a very deadly gang of power-hungry miscreants whose true objective was to expand their influence and take over the Queens territory, which would inevitably lead to the fall of the royal family.

It’s no surprise that once Namjoon reported his findings, the Queens were understandably horrified and moved them all the way up Yoongi’s watchlist.

Due to the trust Namjoon had built with them, they didn’t think twice when he suggested that they accelerate their course to get to the village due to the oncoming storm. He led them right into the trap of the Tiger himself; well, the Tiger and his 22,000 men.  

Namjoon also made a carefully crafted choice to avoid revealing himself as a traitor, should any of the remaining members (those who weren’t slain or arrested) decide to regroup and continue their leader’s mission.  

“Do you really think their motive to settle the score is enough for them to endanger their own lives over? I told them that if they continued their work, they would meet the same fate as their brethren.” Yoongi’s voice is tired but he tries to remain alert for the sake of his fleet.

Namjoon nods, “I do. That is the way they operate. I don’t doubt that they reconvened after the fall of Xansa. They have likely moved on to someone else.”

Xansa.

At the sound of his name, Yoongi sighs uneasily and shakes his head as the scar along his eye ignites with the memory of its inception.

Xansa was the leader of the Meddleways: the brains, the heart and the soul.

Namjoon warned Yoongi of his cruelty after witnessing the way he treated his followers. His charisma was as deadly as his blade and his need for power dripped from his aura like coagulated blood.  

He was ruthless.

From what Namjoon could gather, he alone had hundreds of deaths upon his hands. His plan wasn’t just to expand his influence; he sought after total domination.

Yoongi fought him during their capture of the Meddleways and it’s one of the few times throughout Yoongi’s career that he genuinely thought he was going to die.  

He survived and killed Xansa in the middle of a thunderstorm, in front of all of his followers, just as the local stories have told.

Xansa left his mark on Yoongi however and ensured that he never forgot the time his life was almost ripped from him.  

“As of now, I don’t think we have enough evidence to prove this theory Namjoon but, I will consider your input and ask that you alert me of any other ideas you might have. For the time being, I don’t want anyone of you away from the fleet. If there truly is a new group of invaders on the horizon, they will look for any excuse to shed blood and prove their power. Understood?”

The six of them nod, lips tight with concentration as they listen intently to their General.

Yoongi values the opinions of his men very much and they know that they are free to speak as often as they see fit. At the end of the day however, Yoongi has the final say. He is their leader and his word is gold. They trust him enough to follow his orders without question, even if they don’t always understand his intentions.

Yoongi lets out another breath before nodding towards the exit of the tent, “Eat well tonight and turn in early. Training will get harder tomorrow as we will be teaching the recruits how to disarm their opponent. Jungkook-ah,” He turns to his younger brother, “I need you awake before dawn to assist me with the morning briefing.”

Jungkooks smiles, his head bobbing with an eager nod, “Yes hyung.”

Yoongi resists the fondness that blooms in his chest, patting a hand on back, “Very good. Namjoon- please continue exploring further theories and prepare for a possible journey to your connections when I deem it safe to do so. Hoseok, you can take the morning off but I will need you out here by midday to continue your classes. Jin hyung, I need you to enter the village and gather more information on their recent raids. The village leaders are located near the market plaza. Jimin and Taehyung, you will be with me most of the day as I will need to use you in my demonstrations.”

“Should I tell Y/N to halt her deliveries then? Since we will all be preoccupied?” Jin inquires hesitantly.

The bread supply is already depleted, and he is unhappy at the thought of going without it, particularly after a hard day’s work.

“I doubt Hyung would refuse a visit from her. Even on such a busy day...” Jimin smirks, wrapping an arm around Taehyung who chuckles warmly.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “It makes no difference to me whether or not she does her delivery.”

Jin throws an incredulous look his way, “Yoongi. You aren’t seriously going to pretend she hasn’t caught your attention are you?”

Namjoon is scribbling in his journal again but he doesn’t miss a beat as he murmurs his input, “Hyung is worried that getting involved with a civilian will be complicated so, he is concealing his emotions for her because it’s easier that way. However, he will probably leave during our meal tonight to go see her because, he is captivated. According to the shift in his body language, he also has strong sexual urges for her as well but, fears that getting involved with her in such a way would be irresponsible as he still has time left in the Queens Army.”

He doesn’t even look up from his journal as he psychoanalyzes his hyung. His tone is cool and almost detached but his lips twitch with a smile as soon as Jimin and Taehyung begin laughing.

Yoongi is unable to help the shock that colors his features, his cheeks reddening with the heat of embarrassment as he watches the rest of his fleet begin to laugh at his expense.

“Did I miss anything?” Namjoon looks up finally, smirking across the table.

They expect Yoongi to rush out of the tent in a fit of denial but, instead he slumps back in his chair, his own smirk decorating his features as he stares at Namjoon across the table, “Just one thing...”

Namjoon’s brows raise, “Oh? Enlighten me please...”

Yoongi chuckles, moving his finger in a come hither motion to prompt the rest of his fleet to lean in eagerly.

They aren’t used to their leader sharing his emotions so, they are besides themselves at the thought of hearing more.

“That I would feel an immense amount of displeasure when being psychoanalyzed by my own solider which would then result in the punishment of the entire fleet in the form of hmm-” Yoongi places a finger on his chin in thought, “running drills for 2 hours after training tomorrow? Does that sound about right to you Namjoon?”

The group groans, Jin’s eyes widening in horror, “Namjoon-ah! Look what you’ve done!”

Namjoon however doesn’t flinch though, he just chuckles as him and Yoongi exchange conversation through shared eye contact.

“Hyung, please...” Jimin whines, reaching for Yoongi’s hand, “Don't make us do that, I hate running- it's not even in my job description.”

Yoongi just quirks a brow, a smirk still on his lips, “If you’d like me to stay out of your plans for the day, I suggest you stay out of mine. Is that something you think you all could manage?”

“Oh yes, absolutely hyung- no problem.”

“Who’s y/n? Never heard of her...”

“Hyung you are always right; that’s why we trust you, you know? You are the world’s greatest general.”

“We won't say anything, we promise.”

Yoongi chuckles, his eyes glinting with a bit of fondness, “Namjoon?”

Namjoon nods, lifting his hands to concede despite the grin still on his mouth, “Your words are divine my General.”

A phrase very often said in the fleet’s initial training with Yoongi.

It was a psychological tactic he used to build trust between him and his trainees but now, so many years later, it’s looked upon with humor.

“Good.” He stands, a look of complete satisfaction on his face, “Eat your meal and then it’s straight to bed. I better not see any empty cots when I return...”

There is quite a bit of movement in the tent as Yoongi makes his way to the exit, with the rest of his fleet (sans Namjoon) quickly abiding by his orders.  

As Yoongi pushes aside the cloth door of the tent, the light from the full moon hanging over their camp causes him to turn around.

“Yah-” He nods to Namjoon, his finger pointing through the opening of the tent, “it’s a full moon.”

Namjoon perks up, shoving his journal aside hastily and practically tripping over his own feet as he stumbles eagerly towards Yoongi.

Before Namjoon brushes past him, he looks at Yoongi with a sheepish smile and bows his head,

“Thank you hyung...”

Yoongi smirks fondly, tipping his head in return, “Send her my best.”

Namjoon’s smile broadens, nodding eagerly before rushing out towards the moon.

As cold as Namjoon may seem, he too has a lover on his mind.

Danielle.

Childhood sweetheart who became his wife as soon they were 18.

Through various aspects of Namjoon’s personal faith, he believes that the fastest way to communicate with her is through the moon. The moon has the strongest gravitational pull when it’s at its fullest so Namjoon usually spends most of those nights, speaking with her until sunrise.

He sends letters too but, the moon brings him comfort.

Just as she does.  

Yoongi chuckles at his eagerness, watching him until he finds a place near the edge of their camp to sit and begin.

Speaking of lovers on the mind...

As much as Yoongi hates to be predictable, he would be lying if he said that Namjoon’s assumptions of him had been incorrect.  

He will be going to see you tonight.  

Even though he isn’t certain of where things might be headed between the two of you, he can’t help but wish to be near you again.  

Captivated was the word Namjoon had used and as Yoongi starts on the path towards the river, he grins to himself; captivated truly was the perfect word.  

You weren’t exactly sure if Yoongi would show up at the River tonight.

It’s not like the two of you had an agreement to meet.

In fact, the last time you saw him, he was doing his nightly walk and rather than stopping to say hello to you, he merely smiled and bowed his head in your direction.

The two of you had held hands the night before so, you figured that maybe something were to happen between you but, then again, maybe he was just looking for comfort.

Or attention.

You don’t imagine he experiences the physical touch of another person unless it’s during battle, which can’t be a very pleasurable experience.  

As you slip your shoes off near the entrance of the river, your heart flutters at the association of Yoongi and pleasure in the same sentence. You know you’re likely only causing your own suffering to think of him this way but, you can’t help it.

You want him.  

You really do and with everything you have, you hope he wants you too.

The stickiness on the back of your neck pulls you out of your thinking as it reminds you of the incredibly hot day you’ve just worked through.  

Towards the end of summer, the sun decides to give an encore of what has been an already sweltering and humid season. The week before it begins to cool down, the temperature comfortable and breezy before your region is hit with one final heat wave. Today, in the marketplace you quite literally salivated over the thought of cooling down in the river that evening.  

The river is often packed during days like today but once the sun sets, everyone heads back to their homes.  

That is when you choose to come by.  

It’s quite peaceful in the evening, the heat is still present but bearable and the slight breeze that whistles through the trees provides solace on your flushed skin.  

You don’t plan on fully submerging yourself because, you aren’t entirely fond of the idea of your feet being suspended in the deep and dark waters of the river.

Instead, you opt to wear a blue linen set that you often wearing during warmer months which will allow you to wade in the water without getting your clothes wet.

The river runs cold all year round, freezing over during the winter time but the cool sensation is welcome against the tips of your toes. You step further in, letting out a deep sigh and allow yourself to shut your eyes as you wade further into the water.

The water surrounds your ankles and just as it begins to slowly surround your calves, you hear the low melody of a voice you have waited for all day.

“Y/N?” Yoongi calls gently and it makes you grin because, you can sense he is actively trying not to scare you again.

Turning around, you are met with the sight of him; hair pulled back, white linen pants and a tighter fitting black shirt. It’s the first time you're seeing his arms and immediately, you’re able to recognize the symbols of both his strength and his experience. His skin looks beautiful in the moonlight, the sinewy dips of his muscles travelling alongside the colors of his veins, various scars littering the surface of his arms.  

He truly is something else entirely.

“Thank you for warning me this time instead of sneaking up on me.” You tease, the water sloshing as you turn your back to the river.

His lips twitch, “I’ve never snuck up on you before, you just aren’t as prepared as you should be, especially for someone who likes to wander out into the forest by themselves...”

“The forest is technically that way.” You quip, pointing through the trees.

Finally, his lips crack with a grin as he shakes his head at you, “Technically it is but, danger can lurk around every corner.”

You can’t but giggle, feeling rather giddy in his presence, “You make a good point- the fluffy squirrels and chirping birds are truly vicious creatures...”

He rolls his eyes then and shakes his head once more, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he steps towards you.

But as he’s opening his mouth to speak, you drop the bit of sarcasm in your tone.

“How was your day?”

Yoongi feels a bit of warmth in his chest as he genuinely can’t remember the last time someone asked him that question.

Immediately however, he is hit with a pang of anxiety, the conversation he had with his men coming back into his mind.

Looking upon your warm expression, he fully appreciates your beauty.

The curves of your face, the sincerity in your gaze, the small smile on your lips...

He knows you’re capable of holding your own but, after hearing of a possible threat, he is infected with the need to protect you.  

“It was fine. How was your day?” He attempts to reign in the worry in his tone, feeling very confident in his ability to conceal his true emotions.

He should know better...

“What’s wrong?” You ignore his inquiry regarding your day, stepping towards him once more, unsure of how close you should get.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing. Why do you think something is wrong?

“You look troubled-” Pointing a finger towards his face, you soften your tone, “Is something bothering you?”

Yoongi feels strangely emotional at your concern, still not fully understanding your interest in his feelings.  

He doesn’t want to lie to you but, he also doesn’t want to spend his time with you talking about potential danger.

Besides, he really would like to hear about your day.

“It’s nothing. Just had a meeting with my men earlier, things got a little tense that’s all.” He assures you before extending a hand your way, “I’m off-duty now though and I’d really like to hear about your day if that’s alright...”

The sight of his hand sends butterflies down your throat and into your stomach before you interlock your fingers with his a little too eagerly.

He chuckles warmly, noticing your excitement and gently pulls you closer to him.  

Being near Yoongi feels almost familiar.

It’s comforting and slightly intoxicating as the skin of his forearm brushes along the inside of yours.

The two of you begin following the length of the river, your plans and shoes suddenly forgotten.

“My day was ok...” You begin, tilting your head, “the heat was unbearable though. I thought I was going to faint in the middle of the plaza today. Ugh and then Jane kept going on about how I needed to find a husband and start a family, ‘ You aren’t getting any younger you know? Sooner or later you’re going to end up a spinster peddling night shade for a decent meal’ “ Your face scrunches up as you imitate the very unique tone of Jane’s voice and it causes Yoongi to chuckle warmly beside you, amusement coloring his features.

“Don’t laugh!” You whine, leaning into him but, your mouth is already pulling up into a smile, “She’s relentless!”

Yoongi continues laughing, using his finger to flick a tear from the corner of his eye, “She is quite abrasive. I actually like that about her but-” He points at you, “She shouldn’t be harassing you about your marital status. I assume that you’re unmarried by choice...”

There go the butterflies again.

“Why do you assume that?”

Yoongi glances at you before returning his gaze on the path you two are on. The corner of his mouth is pulled up into a smile as he lets out a breath, “I’m mainly assuming that there have been other suitors you’ve crossed paths with. You don’t seem like the type of person to settle or the type of person who makes decisions based on the opinions of others.”

As flattered as you are by his statement, there is one particular thing that captures your attention.

“Other suitors?” You raise your brows, stealing a glance his way in time to see him fully grin.

“Yes,” He nods, tightening his features with sincerity, “other.”

You feel your stomach doing back flips, the giddiness bubbling inside you threatening to explode but instead of jumping for joy like you want to, you merely squeeze his hand and offer him a grin in return.  

The moment is over as soon as it begins as Yoongi looks down at your feet before frowning and turning back towards where the two of you had first met tonight.

“Where are your shoes? Why did you take them off?”

You giggle, “I was about to wade into the river to cool off, I don’t normally keep my shoes on while I do that.”

His frown falters a bit when you giggle but, he halts your movements none the less, “You could step on something, it’s dark out here...”

“It’s not that dark.” You insist, turning your body so you are face to face with him, “I walk through this area all the time.”

Yoongi feels his breath hitch as the proximity between the two of you lessens. He isn’t prepared for the feelings swirling inside of him or the ease of access he now has to your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your lips...

He would love nothing more than to place his mouth on every feature.

On every inch.

He clears his throat, “Fine. We’ll walk slower then so, at least if you step on something- it won’t be so hard.”

His solution makes you laugh again but it also pleases you.

You like that he doesn’t try to force his opinion on you and that he trusts your judgement.

“Fair enough.” You concede, reluctantly turning so the walk can continue, “How was the bread today by the way? I added a bit more garlic this time...”

He nods immediately, patting his stomach, “It was delicious. This batch was completely mauled by my fleet- my little brother in particular shoved at least 10 pieces into his mouth.” He chuckles, shaking his head, “I’m convinced that boy is part animal or something, he certainly behaves like one.”

Giggling, you mimic him and shake your head as well, “Or he just really likes bread. I would probably behave like an animal if I were deprived of carbs of 6 months out of the year.”

“It’s more like 10 months out of the year.” He corrects, “We only return to the kingdom during blizzard season or if one of us is injured.”

Your eyes widen, “Really? I thought members of the Queen’s army rotate every six months. You only take a break for two months out of the year?”

Yoongi chuckles at your surprise, “Yes-” He nods, “We are considered uh- special forces. The Queens employ us full time. The fleet I oversee of the Royal Army- they rotate quite often but the seven of us operate March through December.”

Kissing your teeth, you can’t help the genuine look of concern on your face, “How long have you been doing this?”

His eyes narrow, “Hm- I think I’m going on ten years now...yeah. I joined when I was 18.” He nods in agreement with himself, “This is my last year of service.”

Your heart jumps to your throat, “Really?!” The volume of your voice climbs dangerously high and it causes Yoongi to laugh, his eyes widening.

“Does that excite you?”

“I mean-” You bite your lip, trying to figure out if his retirement is something you should celebrate, “is it something you’re looking forward to?”

He smirks, eyes glinting with amusement, “It is.”

“Then yes,” You decide, stopping the pace of your walk so you can turn towards him, “it does excite me.”

His smirk never falters, whilst his free hand moves to trace down the length of your arm, seeking the grasp of your fingers. His touch leaves a trail of fire on your flesh, your other hand eagerly intertwining with his.  

“Oh? Why does it excite you?”  

The tone of his voice lightens; it’s playful and almost a little taunting as he leans in towards your face.

“Um-” You clear your throat, stepping closer to him so that your toes are almost touching his, “Because maybe, I would get to see you more. If you were retired...”

Yoongi’s eyes soften, the back of his thumb brushing over your knuckles, “Hm. So, she’d like to see me more...”

“I really would.” You confirm, the look in his eye offering you some confidence in your next move.  

Swallowing back your nerves, you take the hand you’re currently holding and guide them to your hips.

Without a word, you place your freed hands on the ball of his shoulders, sliding them inwards towards the base of his neck. As the two of you make eye contact, you feel his grip on your hips tighten, his big hands feeling the flesh there for the first time. The movement of your fingers causes him swallow, the Adams apple bobbing in his throat whilst his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, only making them more inviting.  

The seam of your top would make it so easy for him to slip his fingers beneath it to feel your skin for real but, instead he merely flexes his fingers just enough for the tips of them to press into your body.  

In your own attempt to explore his skin, your fingertips brush the soft skin at the junction between the base of his throat and his shoulder, your palms lying flat on his collar bones.

He lets out a shaky breath, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he forces his eyes away from yours.

“You’re making this very difficult...” Yoongi murmurs.

You slow your motions on him, “I’m making what difficult?”

He’s still looking away, but his hands squeeze your hips, anchoring them in place to stop them from wandering as he wishes to.

“I’m trying to court you properly but, now you’ve gone and put my hands on you...” He smirks, his feline-like eyes darting back to yours, “you aren’t even giving me a chance here.”

His accusatory tone causes you to giggle, your fingers inching closer to brush against the hair at the nape of his neck, “Who’s to say what’s proper?”

“Societal decorum, your parents, my parents, our friends- “ He chuckles, glancing up towards the sky, “whatever god is in my head right now, shaming me for the thoughts I’m having.”

“Any god who shames you for your desires is no god of mine...and besides,” You breathe, leaning up towards his lips, “we’re the only ones who get to decide what’s proper for us.”

He sighs, his breath close enough to wisp across your mouth, the proximity intoxicating.

“I should have known the day I met you that you make your own rules...” He smirks, the need to press his lips against yours nearly unbearable. He nods to you then, raising his brows, “What do you think is proper for us in this moment? Since we’ve already disregarded decency.”  

Another giggle leaves your lips and without thinking you move the rest of the way so that your mouth lingers just in front of his own, “I think it’s proper for you to kiss me- for the first time, underneath the full moon.”

At your boldness his heavy gaze widens slightly as a sharp breath leaves his lips before pushes them onto you.

Immediately, lightening shoots through the center of your spine, exploding into your heart, your hands on his shoulders tightening significantly, his own grip on your hips following suit.

Your bodies press together as your lips tuck in and move against each other. The tip of your nose rubs unceremoniously on the bridge of his own, the kiss deepening with a mutual sigh between the two of you.  

Your chest is pushing against the linen of his shirt, your body coming to life as he begins walking you backwards towards the large willow tree standing proudly near the river. When your back presses against the rough bark, you take the opportunity to slide your nails up his neck and into his hair, careful not to ruin the state of his ponytail too much. Your touch elicits a very faint groan from him, his teeth nibbling against your bottom lip.

With the increase of your breathing, you press him closer to you, pushing your breasts into him, hoping that he will take the hint and continue touching you. His hands merely squeeze at your hips, holding you steady against his body whilst his tongue brushes your bottom lip.

He’s requesting entrance into your mouth, which you gladly grant, parting your lips and sliding your own tongue along his. The two of you play in each others mouths, it’s slow and almost messy and it causes your fingers to tighten in his hair, wishing desperately that you could run your fingers through it properly.

Yoongi’s heart feels as though it's going to give out from all the sensations he’s feeling, his resolve weakening by the second, all thoughts of decorum leaving his conscious.  

The bark of the tree is digging into your back, but you can barely feel it; your mind is too full of Yoongi. His hands begin inching up your torso, almost massaging his way up, his grasp tightening further as he resists the urge to move his hips.  

But he can already feel the blood pooling between his legs, and he knows that things are already going too far so when you slide your leg up to hitch it around his waist, he finally pulls away.  

Breathing heavily, the two of you rest your foreheads on one another, lust swirling in the air around you.

“Why did you stop?” You pout, pecking at his lips.

Yoongi chuckles into your lips, leaning away slightly to press a kiss to your nose and then your forehead and as his mouth lingers there, he responds, “I have to maintain some level of decency- I am a man of the royal family.”

Like a spoiled child, you slump back against the tree, your lips still pouted as your hands return to his shoulders, “The royal family is miles away...besides, we were just kissing.”

Yoongi’s raspy laugh makes you want to kiss him even more while the fondness in his gaze makes you want to grin like an idiot.

“Your little suggestion to kiss me was turning into something else entirely and you know that.” He accuses playfully, bringing a thumb over your cheek.

“Were you not enjoying it?” You point out, dancing your fingers over his chest and he rolls his eyes, catching your hand in his own.

“You know very well that I was enjoying it.” He smirks, glancing down between the two of you at his semi-hard length pushing against his linen pants, “I am a man of my word however and I meant what I said about courting you properly.”

The sight of his length removes all moisture from your mouth, most of it seeming to reallocate between your legs.

“But you’re-!” You almost whine, wanting nothing more than to resume your earlier encounter.

He chuckles once more, bringing your fingers to his lips, “I am.” He concedes, dragging his lips over the back of your knuckles, “your lips are lethal.”

Your focus hones in on the wet lips currently pressing kisses against your hand but, your stubborn nature wishes to press the issue further.

“Then why did you stop?”

Yoongi smirks, “Because it’s not proper to have each other now, even when I want you as bad as I do-” He kisses between the junction of your pointer and middle finger, brows raising at the sight of your pouted lips, “Why are you still pouting?”

“Because...” You sigh, licking your lips, “I already told you I didn’t care what others thought I-”

Yoongi chuckles again but this time, the sound is darker, “Y/N, when I tell you that we should wait, it isn’t because of the opinions of others it’s because...” He pauses, licking his tongue between your fingers, sending a shock wave between your thighs, “I couldn’t possibly pleasure you properly against this tree...”

You let out shaky breath, leaning into him once more, “I believe you could.”

He grins, kissing over the spot he just licked, returning your hand to his shoulder, “Oh do you now?”

“Mhm.” You hum, giggling as he pinches your hips, your fingers clasping behind his neck.

He leans over, kissing your lips gently before pulling back to secure your gaze, “Be patient my sweet girl...” His voice drops to a whisper, “...and let our fairytale develop a little longer.”

You can’t help but embrace him then, tucking your face into his neck, “I’m sorry if I’m so eager...I’ve just never felt this way before.”

He chuckles warmly, easing you away from the trees so he can rub your back, “Please don’t be sorry. This is new territory for me as well. We can navigate it together ok? My fleet has to move on in a few weeks but, it will only be a few months until I can make it back to you. After that- we'll have all the time in the world.”

Nodding, you press a kiss to his neck, tightening the embrace, not wanting to let go, “Why do you have to be such an accomplished solider General Min? Mediocrity could have really worked in your favor...”

He laughs again, the sound warming you from the inside out, “Terribly sorry mam. I had no anticipation of being captivated by a smart-mouthed apothecary during a refuel stop.”

“Oh so I’ve captivated you have I?” You tease, your fingers walking slowly across his back.

He smiles, turning his head to kiss the side of your head, “To put it very lightly yes- yes you have.”

Captivated was the word Namjoon had used and it truly was the perfect word.  

Absolutely perfect.

[shinyglaceonice]

Genshin headcanons time with my respective teams because they've been on my mind for a while.

Noelle and Xiao have been working together for a long while now, seeing new members come and go, but they always remained a duo. Xiao would never admit it, but he finds her dedication to her training commendable, and the strength of her shield is proof of that. Likewise, Noelle has learnt the little tells of the adeptus, the little signs that indicate when he wants to be alone, when he's curious about something he doesn't know. They share a quiet friendship built on mutual respect, and there have been some evenings where the two have just sat in silence watching the stars in the teapot.

Fischl and Yoimiya get along like a house on fire. Yoimiya adores Fischls character, always addressing her as the Prinzessin, and loves speaking with Oz, who has thanked Yoimiya for accepting Fischl for who she is. In turn, Fischl loves hearing Yoimiyas stories, whether it's about fireworks, the history of the Naganohara family or even about pet goldfish. The two can talk for hours, and have even had conversations whilst doing their daily commissions, much to the amusement and bewilderment of the other team members. (Xiao has had to remind them to focus a couple of times)

Diluc was reluctant to get close to the others at first, but overtime came to genuinely care for everyone that resided in the teapot. So much so, he started making non alcoholic drinks that he thought best suited a person, but was stumped as to what to make for Xiao, until he found out from Xiangling that the only dish he would eat was Almond Tofu. The two worked together to make a drink that had the flavour of Almond Tofu, and when it was done, served it to Xiao along with drinks for everyone else. The soft smile that briefly graced the adeptus face was reward enough for the both of them.

Venti loves playing the Lyre inside the teapot, and sometimes Ayaka will just stand and listen to his performances. It surprised her that he knew Inazuman songs, and could play them on request, but overtime they build a friendship over music and poetry, with Venti telling her poetry and playing her songs from ages long since passed. When asked where the song was from, Venti just ehe's before starting his next performance.

As the group begin to get to know each other and as time passes, they all help each other out in small ways.

Noelle, whilst still taking on lots of work, doesn't mind if the others help lessen her workload.

Xiangling takes the opportunity to learn cuisine from Inazuma to help Ayaka and Yoimiya feel more at home.

Fischl is the happiest she's ever been, finding people that accept her for who she is, and value her inputs and capabilities.

Yoimiya is over the moon hearing so many stories from so many different people, and loves making fireworks she thinks best represent her new friends.

Diluc learns that it's okay to trust others again, and that there are people that will have his back no matter what. He also learns a lot about drink ingredients thanks to experiments with Xiangling.

Venti is content to live in the moment, to make friends with these people that he knows will one day have to leave him. But that's okay, he thinks, he'll write songs to remember them by, and to inspire others with.

Ayaka allows her image of a perfect princess to relax, just a little, in the company of her new friends. No longer having to be 100% all the time, she laughs a little more often, and let's herself try new experiences that she missed out on previously.

Xiao gets used to having companions again, and although, like Venti, knows that they will one day have to leave him, he will protect them until that day. The pain of his karmic debt has been decreasing as of late, he no longer feels the pain as much as he used too, and he ponders, is it because of the Traveller and these new companions?

[idratherdreamofjune]

@sunheart wrote in her tags on another post:

Genuinely hate being alive ... I completely understand on so many levels why you would hate being a woman. Its horrible. And then as a Christian there's this whole really ugly dynamic- that i know is probably a lie i just haven't worked out how yet- that we're the 2nd best. The afterthought. The mediocre option. Almost everything in life men are better at and it's hard to believe it's just cultural-  math logic leadership writing cooking writing physical activities on and on, and women are good at being Nice :)   Which ok i like being nice   but it's like that's my only option   I feel like any other impact i might wish to have upon the world   will be paltry in comparison to what i could do   if only i was a man.   I feel incompetent. Irrational. Emotional. Obnoxious.   I feel like I'm supposed to be a plaything for the beings that were *actually* created to be in harmony with God   like I'm not supposed to have a connection with God-  only through my husband   which what does that make me as a single childless bitch?   I can't even fulfill the main point of my existence. Jesus interacted with women but did he care about them like he did the men? David and John were named his favorites not Deborah or Hannah. And like i said i'm sure none of that's true but i don't know how and it feels awful. hate it.

   Hopefully others have shared encouragement on this already, but just in case I wanted to give some thoughts. Please know that if I sound riled at all (and I’m going to try to avoid that) I’m not upset at anyone who feels this way but am deeply upset by the enemy’s lies that so many are hurt by. As a younger believer I did struggle with some of these questions myself, and for a long time it was difficult to reconcile these concerns with the promises that God loves me.

   Your instincts are right - it is a lie that women are second best. And before I go any further let me also agree that yes, we are physically weaker than men and have other weaknesses too. But since when has weakness meant that someone is any way “less than” others? Men have weaknesses too, just different ones. That’s the nature of humanity: every person is a mixed bag of strengths and weaknesses. I’ve never heard before that men are better at cooking?? My dad literally struggles to cook a hotdog in the microwave and has never touched a grill in his life. And okay men may (possibly, not sure on this one either) be inherently better at math, but which gender is drastically underrepresented in the nursing field? I suspect there are fewer male teachers, too, though not as huge a disparity. Men are more prone to recklessness and violence - part of the reason married men live longer (gotta get that stable influence). Again yes men are physically stronger but have you watched ballet dancers (oooh i mean ballerinas, sorry there’re so few ballerinos that I forgot to differentiate) or female gymnasts? Nothing “less than” there! The famous Proverbs 31 woman is a good insight into Biblical support of female abilities and value: “strength and dignity are her clothing”, “she opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.” “Let her works praise her in the gates.” (The gates were essentially the city hall or forum of ancient Israel.)

   Going back to the beginning - women were created second, true. But did God not know His own plan? He was always going to create women. And the really amazing thing that I learned in the last couple of years is that, when God says He’s going to make Adam “a helper” (Hebrew ”ezer”), that’s the same word that is used to describe God’s actions for His people throughout the Old Testament: - Exodus 18:4 “The God of my father was my help.” - 1 Samuel 7:12 “Ebenezer” means “rock of help” and is a memorial of Yaweh’s help. - Psalm 30:10 “Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me! O Lord, be my helper!” - Psalm 115:11 “You who fear the Lord, trust in the Lord, He is their help and their shield” - Psalm 121:2 “My help comes from the Lord” - Hosea 13:9 “‘You are against Me, against your helper.’“

It is a common word for “help” used in other settings, yes, but the fact that it’s used of God illustrates that this is no poor or second-rate role. Helping - aiding - supporting - incredibly important! In fact this article I just found puts it this way:

In two cases it refers to the first woman, Eve, in Genesis 2. Three times it refers to powerful nations Israel called on for help when besieged. In the sixteen remaining cases the word refers to God as our help. He is the one who comes alongside us in our helplessness. That's the meaning of ezer. Because God is not subordinate to his creatures, any idea that an ezer-helper is inferior is untenable. In his book Man and Woman: One in Christ, Philip Payne puts it this way: "The noun used here [ezer] throughout the Old Testament does not suggest 'helper' as in 'servant,' but help, savior, rescuer, protector.'

   Moving on to the New Testament, and the topic of John, who is known as “the disciple whom Jesus loved”. John is the one who wrote the book which tells us that (under the direction of the Holy Spirit, yes) and he only uses that wording as a title, in place of his name. Nowhere does it say he was the favorite disciple, or even most loved, just that he was loved. To me it seems more as if John is saying “Jesus loved me! Can you believe it?!” It has a feeling of awe and thankfulness as opposed to superiority.

  Getting into marriage specifically, I do believe that a wife should be under the headship of her husband ...mainly in the sense of letting him have the last word on decisions and plans. This is in part due to differing areas of strength, and in part because in some situations it’s better to have a family leader - most groups of humans need a leader, and following an assigned (or picked) leader does not make one inferior. All that being said, a wife should be able to provide input, advice, and feedback to her husband, who should take into strong consideration his wife’s needs, insights, and concerns (Ephesians 5:25-29).

   The lie that women cannot be connected to God outside of their husband is refuted not only by all the vibrantly faithful single or windowed Christian ladies of history (Amy Carmichael, Gladys Aylward, Mary Slessor, and Elisabeth Elliot are some of my favorites) but also Scripture itself. When Christ spoke with the divorced Samaritan woman the disciples were shocked not because she was a Samaritan but because she was a woman (John 4:27; she was shocked on both counts - John 4:9) - I hope they got used to it because Jesus spoke with women a lot. Despite the culture of the time, Jesus clearly had very warm and caring direct relationships with Martha and Mary, Mary Magdalene, and other women. Anna the Prophetess in the temple had been widowed for decades and was serving God alone “night and day” (Luke 2:37). Incredibly, in a culture where women were looked down upon, the Lord chose women to be the first to discover the empty tomb, and Mary Magdalene to be the first to see the risen Christ! I love that passage so much (John 20:11-18).

   Another example is when Jesus stopped on His way to heal Jairus’ daughter (i.e. He put aside a powerful man’s urgent request) to lovingly interact with the woman who’d suffered bleeding for years - a terribly personal and female problem (Mark 5:21-35).

   To try to wrap up, I’ll return to David in the OT, who was a “man after God’s own heart”. But again, it doesn’t say that he was actually a favorite - it does say David was chosen by God though, to lead Israel and establish the family from which Jesus would ultimately come. You know who else was chosen? Esther - “for such a time as this”. Once she realizes the task she must complete, she tells Mordecai how it’s going to go, and “Mordecai then went away and did everything Esther had ordered him.” Esther gets a book named after her and is remembered in the holiday of Purim to this day. Also note that Esther was married to an unbeliever. Likewise Ruth was chosen, as a young foreign widow, to be part of the Messiah’s kingly line. As an aside, my favorite thing about Ruth’s story (besides all the faith and beauty of it) is the simultaneous deep respect and protectiveness Boaz shows towards her (okay enough mush). Anyhow what it comes down to is that God chooses and loves both men and women, and both have a place (singly and married) in His plans and kingdom. See also Galatians 3:28 “ There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

   This post has all over the place, and I probably forgot a bunch of things I wanted to add (if anything else comes to mind I’ll add it later), but I hope it’s been encouraging. Yes I’ve struggled with some aspects of how women are portrayed in the Bible, but what I shared above, plus the love and blessings I’ve known as a single woman are more than enough evidence that we are known and loved. If anything is unclear or anyone has any questions please speak out/send an ask! Anon asks are on too. Also if anyone wants to add or amend anything do so without hesitation!!

[youngwings-writes]

Infinitely Ordinary

Lee Felix x OC

Summary: "𝕀 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟"

Busy. Busy worrying, working, just trying to survive. That was the daily life of Jordan Johnson. The world never seemed to slow down; not for her...not for anyone. Finally deciding to take matters into her own hands and get some much needed R&R, she jets off on a trip to South Korea. While there, she unexpectedly meets her soulmate. Will they be able to find happiness together, or will his status get in the way?

Genre: Fluff

Length: 2k

Chapter 4: Sunshine

"So... I guess we're soulmates?"

I froze.

Obviously, I had come to that conclusion on my own already, but to hear Felix saying it was a whole other thing. Like, this is the boy I've been admiring from afar for years. I knew so much about him, but he probably didn't know I existed until 60 seconds ago.

I didn't trust my voice at this point, so I simply smiled and gave a shy nod in response.

"I know this is really sudden, but I'm not sure the middle of a dog cafe is where we should be discussing such a serious matter... is there any possibility we could go to wherever it is you're staying and continue getting to know one another?"

"O-of course! That's no problem at all. Just let me pull up directions again so I don't get us lost," I began fumbling with my phone, trying not to look as nervous as I felt.

Soon enough I had the directions to my apartment pulled up on my phone. Felix and I grabbed our drinks and made our way out into the streets of Seoul.

"It doesn't seem like you're from around here, where are you from?"

"Phoenix, Arizona, born and raised," I said with a hint of triumph. Arizona isn't exactly the classiest state, but to survive the summers was definitely a feat.

"Oh! I actually went to Phoenix not that long ago with my mem- my friends! I didn't get to see much of it before we left though."

I could tell he was going to say his members, but he stopped himself. I know he went to Phoenix. Hell, I saw him while he was in Phoenix. My friends and I pooled together enough money to get all four of us P5 tickets to their concert. Still not sure how our broke college student selves pulled that one off.

Should I tell him?

Well, he'll find out eventually, so why not bite the bullet and tell him now?

I took a deep breath.

"Can I tell you something, Felix?"

His head turned to face me, one eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I want to be completely transparent with you, especially since we're apparently soulmates... I know who you are."

I could see him grow stiffer. I continued.

"My friends and I were at the Stray Kids concert in Phoenix. I've been a Stay since before debut. The last 10 minutes has my head absolutely reeling. I never thought that I would meet you or any of your members, let alone have you turn out to be my soulmate. If this makes you uncomfortable, I'm so sorry. It's probably strange hearing all of this; learning that your apparent soulmate knows so much about you while you know so little about them. Not to mention it's probably overwhelming. I mean, we're both still growing up, plus you have the stress of being an idol on top of it," I let my mouth run.

Everything came out like I had just opened the floodgates. I was beyond nervous to hear what he had to say, but also relieved to have said what I did. The last thing I want is to have kept the fact that I knew Felix before he knew me a secret. He deserves to know the truth and not feel like I just used the fact that he's my soulmate for my own personal gain. Keeping him in the dark and using him like that would just be fucked up.

"Okay, wow. First of all, I just wanna say thank you for telling me everything. I also want you to know that the fact that you know who I am doesn't make me uncomfortable. Actually, I'm both flattered and relieved. I won't have to explain being an idol and what that entails for us, so that makes things a lot less stressful. This is completely new territory for both of us, we just need to trust one another and make adjustments as we go," he said as he flashed me a reassuring smile.

"Besides, the fact that you know more about me than I know about you only means I have to spend more time with you and work to know you faster. Plus you get to know a side of me not everyone knows."

"And I'm hoping that side isn't some secret dark side you've been hiding to save face," I gave his shoulder a nudge.

The remainder of the walk to my apartment was relatively quiet. There was a bit of small talk here and there, but nothing extreme. For the most part, we just strolled along in a comfortable silence. It was... suprisingly nice.

One of my personal fears has always been making a fool of myself in front of others or making things awkward; especially with people I looked up to. To be experiencing such a comfortable peace with Felix seemed unreal. Bonus points for only mildly making a fool of myself in the very beginning.

Self improvement baby :)

Even with my poor navigation skills and even worse sense of direction, we made it to my apartment building without any problems.Entering the glass double doors, Felix and I made our way to the elevator. The elevator doors opened with a soft ding and we stepped in. Pressing the button for the third floor, we began our ascent.

When we arrived in front of my door, I almost made the move to input my phone password on the keypad. Force of habit. Realizing what I was about to do, I pulled out my phone and notes app, punching in the number I knew I would've forgotten otherwise. Just as before, a soft beep and click were heard as the door unlocked and we may our way inside.

Shedding our shoes (or feet prisons as my sister would call them), we made our way towards the couch in the small living area the rental possessed. Since we both still had food and drinks from the cafe, I rushed to the kitchen to get plates and utensils for the two of us.

Upon returning to the couch I saw that Felix had already began unpacking our leftovers. I set the plates down and started helping him plate the treats.

"So, you said that you've been a Stay since pre-debut, right?"

"Yeah. I think it was around December of 2017 that I found Stray Kids."

"Wow. Was it random that you stumbled across us, or did you find us through another group?"

"A little bit of both. I first started listening to K-Pop back in 2012, but didn't really get into it until around 2014. From there, I got into F(x), Shinee, and BTS, but I was still more of a casual listener than anything. In 2016 I got into GOT7, Day6, and Twice, so I obviously knew about your label. Funny enough though, I found Stray Kids because one of the people I rode the bus with was talking about how they were upset with how the survival show was going. I think it was right between when you were eliminated and the finale..."

I felt kind of bad bringing up the part about his elimination. I had absolutely no clue if it was still a touchy subject or not. Seeing how far he's come and where he is now, I really hope it isn't and that he doesn't beat himself up over it. JYP's reasoning for it all was complete bullshit anyway.

"Well, that'll make for quite the introduction, huh?"

"For sure. I may not have been there from the very beginning like some others had, but there was definitely some intense feelings of pride seeing you all standing on that stage being told you would debut together."

"I don't think I'll ever forget that moment. Getting there was beyond difficult, but having experienced all I have now, I can 100% say it was worth every second." Felix's eyes shimmered as he spoke. Anyone could tell that he was thinking not only of his members, his brothers, but his fans as well.

Being such a music fanatic, I've seen some bands that you can tell don't care about their fans. While this was way more common in the Western music scene, it did happen in the Kpop world as well. Despite that, I could confidently say that Stray Kids genuinely care for Stay; I could say that before I discovered Felix was my soulmate.

"So do you have any other hobbies or interests besides Stray Kids?"

"Nooo, not at all," I quipped back, my voice oozing sarcasm. A small chuckle was elicited from the freckled boy's throat.

"In all seriousness, music is one of my biggest hobbies. I did musical theatre from age 5 until age 11, I was in choir throughout all of my middle school years, and played trombone in middle school and high school. I don't play a lot now, but I still find the time every now and then. When I wasn't taking part in local musical endeavors, I was at some concert with my friends or my sister. Other than that, I enjoy reading, writing, photography, baking, and cosmetology."

"Quite the artist, aren't you?"

"In every sense except painting or drawing, yes. Ask me to do either of those and I will go running for the hills. Why I can do makeup, but I can't paint or draw I will never know."

"I guess the only explanation is that life is just weird like that sometimes," he laughed again. I always loved his laugh before, but hearing it face-to-face was literal heaven. This boy is straight up an angel, and no one can convince me otherwise.

We spent the next hour or two in my temporary home, conversation continuing to flow. I always knew and acknowledged the fact that idols and other celebrities are normal people just like you and me, but I couldn't help but freak out a little when I met anyone. Of course the same applied to Felix, but I think I got over the shock value faster than I normally would. I didn't really dwell on the fact that he was a world famous idol for long; I honestly almost forgot about it.

Normally, it takes me a while to warm up to people and feel comfortable with them, but Felix seemed to be an exception. The more we spoke and got to know one another, the longer I felt I had known him. Talking with him almost felt like talking with my best friend since preschool.

Just as conversation was beginning to die down a bit, Felix's phone buzzed from the table. He quickly picked it up and checked the notification. I watched him read the words sprawled across his screen, his smile slightly falling.

"Have to go back to the JYP building?" I inquired.

"Yeah. We have a performance in a few days, so we've been drilling pretty hard lately. I'm honestly kinda surprised that I didn't get called back sooner. It's been a few hours since I left," he explained while rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Well, I've already kept you here longer than I probably should have. I don't want to get you in trouble with your members or any staff."

"I suppose you have a point... but how about you come with me?"

"...come with you?"

"Yeah, come with me to JYP, meet my members, watch us practice. Everyone there has to meet you eventually since we're soulmates and all, so why not take care of it sooner rather than later?"

"I don't really have any other specific plans for today, so it could work. But are you sure bringing me won't get you in trouble?"

"As long as it doesn't interfere with our work, you should be good to go. I'm sure you'll be fine. It's not like you're gonna run around wreaking havoc or anything."

"Okay, let's head out then."

We quickly cleaned the living area, grabbed what we needed, and made our way back to the entrance of my building. Hailing the closest cab, Felix and I got in. He gave the cab driver the address to the JYP building and we were on our way.

I guess I'm meeting the rest of Stray Kids now.

<prev  |  next>

[gentleladyaims]

The Farewell: An In-Depth Reflection

I was not emotionally prepared to watch this movie- I packed some tissues in my purse as always (as I am apt to shed tears over most movies- I just get super emotional!), but it was nowhere near enough. I was literally biting my tongue and trying not to sob out loud and looked like a wet blob in the theatre with tears streaming down my face!! My husband was like "Honey, are you okay?? Let me give you a hug!!"

As a young Chinese-American woman, I’ve never watched a movie that hit so close to home and felt so… relevant? I feel so seen and acknowledged seeing this story play out on the big screen. Fsor a Chinese-American woman like Lulu Wang to direct the movie I grew up in Beijing with my grandparents; my parents came to the U.S. right after I was born when my dad got an amazing scholarship to Duke. As a result, I’m super close with my grandparents and they basically raised me and instilled in me the morals/values I have today. I came to the U.S. for the first time when I was three (briefly), then permanently moved to the States when I was six. It was jarring, an entirely new environment, having to learn a foreign language, leaving the comforts of my home behind. Thankfully, my grandma came with us to leave for awhile, but my grandpa stayed back in Beijing. I missed him so much every single day. As I grew up, I’d visit my grandparents back in Beijing almost every single summer and spend my entire vacation with them. I cherish those moments so much.

All the little details in “The Farewell” are so genuine and realistic to how Chinese culture actually is. Of course, no movie is representative of everyone’s experience, however, many facets of it were reflective of my own life.

How Billi's mom seems to be very critical of her life decisions, especially regarding her career, and being snarky/making fun of Billi for pursuing an artistic path with writing. How Nai Nai is so affectionate with Billi (the opening scene when they're on the phone and she asks Billi how the weather is and if Billi's wearing a hat etc is soo hilarious and true!! My grandma always asks that and tells me "Bundle up, don't get a cold now!") and makes the funny comments about her round butt. Even the little nuance of her commenting on Billi's weight and how she doesn't seem to have lost much weight, in comparison with what Billi's mom said (a lot of Chinese people/family always seem to make unsolicited comments about people's figures/weight and just will straight up say "you're fat!" or "OMG you're too skinny!!" it's a hard dichotomy to walk and it seems no one is happy either way). When Billi gets to the hotel and the hotel clerk is asking her which is better, China or America? *Literally* I get asked that question every. single. time. and my response is the same as Billi's- "It's different!" It's like comparing bananas and chicken. Both have their pros and cons, but it seems like they're always expecting you to say one or the other. Some of my relatives definitely idealise the West/America and seem to think everyone in the U.S. is: rich, blond, gorgeous like a movie star, and happy.

The family style meals and the food!! Sooo realistic. Also how Mr. Li pours the boiling water for Nai Nai's hot water soak for her feet. I want to make a note that even the fashion/style is pretty accurate too- my grandpa totally wore the same tank top and high-waisted pants and slippers like Mr. Li, haha. Watching this movie gave me such a feeling of familiarity and belonging, like "wow, someone actually knows how it feels to be in a Chinese family and can identify with these things!!" I cried so hard when Billi had her big breakthrough moment with her mom, confessing that she never felt like she was good enough/that it was hard for her to adjust to life in America. That she felt home with her grandparents. The way her dad asks her questions like "how's your job? do you have enough money?" and little things about her daily life and Billi just brushes him off and says everything's fine. I feel that hardcore because especially when I was younger, I'd just say everything's fine to my parents as to not worry them. Why mention it if they're just going to be fearful/scared/worried/anxious? I'm learning to be more honest and open now- working on developing better communication skills is a major theme in my family (between my mom and dad too).

The comparisons between the East and the West also felt true to life. How Billi's uncle mentions the West values individualism whereas the East values community/the family unit more. I often feel struggles within myself about wanting to be a good daughter and be obedient to my parents versus my own desires and pursuing things I would like, even though it may not be things my parents want for me. I've learned that being a good daughter doesn't always equate to doing what my parents want. I've had to learn to fight for and seek out my independence and find my own self-identity, not just what my family thinks I should be/should do. I feel like in Chinese culture, the elders' opinions are always respected and thought of highly- my mom says "I've crossed these paths of life before, I have more experience/knowledge than you, I know best- just trust me." And it's like... "Yes Mom, sure that may be true, but also I need to make my own decision? And just because you've had a certain experience, doesn't mean it's true for my current life situation?" I'm also careful to tell my parents that I always respect their input, but that just because I don't follow their advice, doesn't mean I don't love them or value their opinion!!! It's been a tough thing for them (more so my mom) to grasp, but I'm glad I'm doing it, despite it being challenging.

The parts of the movie that hit me the most are Billi's moments with her grandma. And also how she has to process this huge emotional burden and her grief. I share a somewhat similar experience, but am SO happy that my grandparents didn't choose to hide anything from me. I don't know if I could've forgiven them if they did... who knows? I found out during my junior year of college that my grandpa had late-stage lymphoma. It had already progressed into his bone marrow and he was in a lot of pain- it also affect some of his mental function and cognition, unfortunately. My parents and I booked tickets right away to see him in Beijing. It was so hard to try and be positive in front of my grandma and not just cry all the time. We were reunited under the worst of circumstances- but at least we could be open about our struggles and endure it together. I couldn't imagine if it was a huge secret and I had to bear it like Billi did. The ending where Billi has to say goodbye to her grandma hit me so hard- like that is literally me every time I have to bid farewell to my Lao Lao. I try to hold in the tears until I get to the taxi and then I just break down. Even though my grandma doesn't have a terminal illness, it's just... the trip between the U.S. and China is a long and arduous one and it's hard being so far away from family, separated by miles and miles and oceans.

My heart ached for my grandpa after watching the movie. When Nai Nai was standing at her husband's grave and lamenting how he passed too soon... that's exactly what my grandma says. She's sad that my grandpa didn't get to see me graduate college, get married, get a job, etc. I will always miss my grandpa, but it's comforting to know that I got to spend my time with him at the end and that we were together, as a family.

Did anyone else feel a particular pull to this movie?? I'd love to hear thoughts, comments, etc!!

[theajaheira]

unbearable

read it on ao3!

“I called Dottie to check in,” Collins said. “We’d had a date scheduled for the pictures, but then Miss Fisher got that party invitation out of the blue, and I thought, well, it might be nice to surprise Dottie with a long-distance telephone call anyway. But Miss Fisher picked up, and hearing it was me seemed to worry her, and she wanted to know why I was calling and then if it was something to do with you, and I said, no, don’t worry, the Inspector’s fine, nobody’s dead—”

(a role reversal inspired by blood at the wheel, wherein one lady detective mishears a message instead.)

to celebrate me being accepted to my dream college, i stayed up till 1am writing mfmm fic and FINALLY locked this damn ending down. feeling pretty good abt myself, y’all.

It felt almost as though Miss Fisher had taken the sunshine with her. She had departed from Melbourne for a soiree at some wealthy friend’s country estate, cheerfully tossing a “don’t solve too many murders while I’m gone!” over her shoulder as she did so, and not an hour later, it had begun to rain. They were well into the third day of gloomy, gray weather, and Jack was doing his best to pretend that it was the cloudy skies that had him feeling frustrated and restless.

It wasn’t, though. Clearly not. Though the more inventive criminals weren’t out and about in the rainy weather, there was no shortage of telephone calls about car accidents and attempted muggings and mediocre things like that. Jack had never been frustrated by police work, and he had never felt restless doing paperwork in his office. He’d stayed where he was because he appreciated every part of his job, even the more procedural aspects. Something like a little bit of rain wouldn’t have him feeling lonely.

But feeling maudlin due to rain was at least slightly excusable. Feeling maudlin because a woman he had no clear connection to was out of town for a mere two weeks was bloody ridiculous. Even if that woman was Miss Fisher, who seemed to bring life and light wherever she went, and whose absence seemed pervasive. His office felt oddly incomplete without her barging in on some ridiculous—

“Constable Collins!” shouted a near-hysterical voice, and Jack’s office door slammed open, revealing none other than Phryne Fisher.

Jack stared. He had seen Miss Fisher in various states of disarray before, but in comparison to a half-unbuttoned shirt or a flash of stocking, this was total chaos. Clutching her handbag, Miss Fisher was wearing mismatched high heels, one stocking, and a slip, her usual dressing gown thrown haphazardly over the whole mess. Not only that, but she was soaking wet from head to toe, as though she had run all the way from the train station without stopping.

“Miss Fisher,” said Jack stupidly. “Aren’t you due back next week?”

Miss Fisher stared at him, mouth half-open, and collapsed against the doorframe. She was shaking.

“Phryne,” said Jack. Worry twisted his chest as he crossed the room to her, gently gripping her shoulder. He hesitated, glancing into the front office; though Collins was staring at them with his mouth half-open, no one else seemed to have noticed Miss Fisher. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to give them some privacy, and so he tugged Miss Fisher into the office, shutting the door. “What on earth is the matter?”

Miss Fisher jerked her shoulder away from his hand as if burned. She raised shaking hands to her hair, patting it down. “I am going to have words with Constable Collins,” she said, in a strange, dangerous tone of voice. She swayed on her feet.

“Well, I’m sure you have reason to,” said Jack carefully. “Might you sit down before you do so?”

“No,” said Miss Fisher.

Jack didn’t really feel like trying to explain to an entire precinct why an ill-dressed, soaking wet Miss Fisher was angry at Constable Collins, particularly when he wasn’t quite sure himself. “At least dry off a bit,” he suggested, and pulled out his desk chair, removing his overcoat from where he’d draped it over the back of the chair.

Just as he was crossing the room again to tuck the overcoat around Miss Fisher, Dot burst in, equally drenched but a bit more well-dressed. “Oh, Inspector!” she gasped, and burst into tears; Collins, who seemed to have followed her, pulled Dot hastily and awkwardly into his arms.

“Dot, it’s fine,” said Miss Fisher a bit thinly, shrugging off Jack’s hands. “Hugh, may I speak with you in private?”

“Miss Fisher, you’re soaking wet,” said Jack quietly, reaching out again with the overcoat. “I don’t think—”

“I’ve taken care of myself quite well before you came along, Jack, I don’t think I need your input at this juncture,” snapped Miss Fisher, swatting his hands away. Jack, stunned by the force of her anger (and quite unsure of its cause), backed off, watching her with worry. “Hugh, I should like to speak with you in private.”

Collins glanced nervously up at Jack.

“Go on, then,” said Jack. At least someone might know what was going on.

Collins let go of Dot, squeezing her hands, and headed out of Jack’s office. Miss Fisher followed, still looking more than ready to kill something.

Dot was crying very hard. Jack shut the door, still completely lost. “I’m so sorry!” she wailed. “She got the phone call and she just took off! I was helping with breakfast or I might have missed her, she ran so fast I only barely managed to catch the same train as her—”

“Ran?” Jack repeated.

“I don’t know what’s wrong!” sobbed Dot. “She was in a state all the way to Melbourne, wouldn’t even talk to me, just sat there staring out the window, and then when we got to the station she just started running again because she said a taxi couldn’t possibly come soon enough to get her to City South—”

“And I’m assuming Bert and Cec crossed town to drive you here?”

Dot sniffled, pulling out a handkerchief to dab at her face. “Our hosts must have called Wardlow and let Mr. B know Miss Fisher had run off,” she said shakily. “I don’t know what she heard, Inspector, but if it’s anything to do with you—”

There was a knock on the door. Jack opened it. Collins was standing there, ashen. “I, um, there was—the phone lines have been bad,” he said. “Because of the rain. Miss Fisher misheard—”

“Hugh, I will thank you not to bother Inspector Robinson with something that is most certainly not police business,” said Miss Fisher sharply from behind him. “Dot, come along.”

“Miss, what—” Dot began, still sniffling.

“Dot, come along,” said Miss Fisher again. She sounded near tears herself.

“Miss Fisher, if there’s anything—” Jack began.

“Thank you, Inspector, but your services aren’t required,” said Miss Fisher. “If I can just—”

Jack stepped deftly around Collins. Without a word, he tucked the overcoat determinedly around Miss Fisher, who stared up at him with wide eyes. “You’ll catch your chill,” he said gruffly, “and being obstinate about it won’t help anyone. Melbourne is better for having you in it, Miss Fisher.”

In the moment before she hurriedly turned away, Jack was quite certain he saw Miss Fisher’s face crumple. He felt Dot push gently past him, watched as she tucked her arm gently around Miss Fisher’s waist, and couldn’t look away as Dot carefully led Miss Fisher out of the precinct. Miss Fisher looked back, once, at the door, and it was directly at him; it was as though she was drinking the sight of him in.

“Collins,” said Jack. “What was that?”

To his surprise, Collins looked steadily up at him and said, “Sir, you know I hate to keep things from you, but Miss Fisher informed me of my mistake in confidence. I don’t think she’d be happy if she knew I betrayed that confidence.”

“If it’s official police business,” Jack began, a warning in his voice.

“But it isn’t, sir,” said Collins. “I can assure you of that.”

There was a horribly artistic murder the next day, the sort that usually had Miss Fisher popping up out of nowhere and cheerfully pointing out clues that Jack would have found eventually. He was already pre-irritated when he saw the sigils and symbols carved into the table around the victim’s body; this was the sort of thing that attracted Miss Fisher like a moth to a flame. But she didn’t turn up for the duration of the entire crime scene inspection, which struck him as more than odd.

Collins didn’t seem at all surprised. Jack noted this, and kept it under wraps until they were heading out with the limited evidence they’d discovered. Halfway to the car, he stopped, and waited for Collins to turn.

Collins did. “Sir?”

“Seeing as Miss Fisher did not turn up at this crime scene,” said Jack, “and seeing as her lateness has likely impeded our investigation, the information you’re withholding has now become police business.”

“But sir, Miss Fisher isn’t a member of the police force—”

Jack fixed Collins with a look. “Are you saying Miss Fisher hasn’t been of help to us in these past investigations?” he said. If he wasn’t so determined to find out what the hell had upset Phryne so much, he might have felt a bit guilty about winding Collins up.

“N-no! No, sir, I just—”

“Are you saying we don’t value her contributions to case work?”

“No, um, I mean, yes? I mean, sometimes you get a bit angry when—”

“Collins,” said Jack. “I believe I’ve made myself quite clear. Why might Miss Fisher have avoided this crime scene?”

Collins wavered, looking genuinely worried. “I don’t know how she’ll feel about—” he began.

“I ask with Miss Fisher’s best interests in mind,” said Jack, his voice softening almost involuntarily. “I can assure you, Collins, I won’t do anything with this information that might hurt her.”

This seemed to relax Collins. He was a good lad, Jack thought, a man of integrity and kindness; his reticence to risk Miss Fisher’s trust spoke well of him. “I called Dottie to check in,” he said. “We’d had a date scheduled for the pictures, but then Miss Fisher got that party invitation out of the blue, and I thought, well, it might be nice to surprise Dottie with a long-distance telephone call anyway. But Miss Fisher picked up, and hearing it was me seemed to worry her, and she wanted to know why I was calling and then if it was something to do with you, and I said, no, don’t worry, the Inspector’s fine, nobody’s dead—”

The phone lines have been bad. Because of the rain. “What did she hear,” said Jack hoarsely. It wasn’t a question.

“She came in and told me that I clearly didn’t know what I was talking about,” Collins continued uncomfortably. “Because there you were, absolutely fine. And I said I didn’t know what she meant, and she said she’d heard me say you were dead, and I told her what I said and then she looked horrified and she said please don’t tell Jack—um, the Inspector, I mean you, that’s just what she said, sir—she said please don’t tell Jack I ran all the way here, it’s humiliating.” He shifted from one foot to the other, looking miserable. “I don’t know if it was the right thing to do, telling you, sir,” he said. “I’ve never seen Miss Fisher in such a state.”

“Nor have I,” said Jack, heart pounding.

This wasn’t, strictly speaking, true. When little Jane Ross had been in danger, Phryne had been beside herself with worry. Jack didn’t doubt that she would have run the entire way home on foot if a car hadn’t been immediately handy. But Jack had never once imagined that he might inspire that same complete lack of reason—that fashionable Phryne Fisher would step into the first shoes she could find and run to the train station in her dressing gown. It answered more than a few prevalent, pressing questions that Jack hadn’t realized he’d had.

“I understand your hesitance, Collins,” Jack said quietly. “I admire it. I’ll do my best to make sure Miss Fisher isn’t further upset by my knowledge.”

Collins looked extremely relieved. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “I really do like Miss Fisher, and—and I didn’t mean to upset her, it was the phone lines—”

“I’m well aware,” said Jack, lost in thought. It seemed he would have to check in on Miss Fisher.

Miss Fisher, as it turned out, had indeed contracted a rather intense head cold from her impulsive run through most of Melbourne. When Jack finally dropped by Wardlow, Dot opened the door with a look of thinly disguised exasperation on her face. It was not directed at him. “She tried to escape through the window and help with your murder case,” she said. “Why she can’t just lie still and get better, I will never understand—”

“May I see her?” Jack asked awkwardly.

Dot went a little pink. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be proper,” she said, slow and considering, “but then I think it really would do her some good to have a visitor.”

Jack took this as a yes. Letting Dot take his hat and coat, he ran a hand awkwardly through his hair (though he hadn’t been out in the rain long, it still felt damp and messy), steeled himself, and headed up the stairs to a bedroom he had never once visited, hoping like hell he wasn’t tracking mud all over Miss Fisher’s floors.

He felt a bit like an intruder, upstairs. His nightcaps with Miss Fisher had largely been restricted to the parlor, with a few brief forays into the kitchen to grab a scone or two. This dimly lit hallway was unfamiliar to him, and yet easily recognizable as Phryne Fisher’s home—the art prints on the wall, the decorative sconces, the tasteful wallpaper. Miss Fisher had excellent taste. Jack stopped outside a door that was very slightly ajar, then knocked.

“Dot, I told you, I’m napping,” came Miss Fisher’s voice, somewhat muffled.

“It’s not—um,” said Jack, cleared his throat, and realized he really should have thought this through a bit more than he had. Things always seemed to fall into place whenever he was in this house; some part of him had stupidly expected this to still be the case.

There was a very long silence. Then Phryne said, “Come in, Jack.”

Jack did.

Miss Fisher was propped up against an unholy amount of pillows, looking rather small and fragile amidst the many comforters tucked expertly around her. Rare were the times that Jack saw Phryne without makeup; none of those times had been because she wanted him to see her that way. It was Phryne at her most vulnerable, and it was almost enough to make Jack want to turn away, give her some privacy.

But then he noticed something. Clutched in Miss Fisher’s arms was his own grey overcoat. “Did you know I was coming?” he asked, for a moment unable to process what Phryne Fisher all but hugging his overcoat might mean.

“No,” said Miss Fisher, and hastily pushed the overcoat away from her. It fell off the side of the bed.

“Can I have my overcoat back?” said Jack.

“No—I mean, yes, of course, yes, it’s your overcoat.” Miss Fisher had gone a bit pink; she looked rather unhappy about it.

Jack hesitated. “Phryne,” he said. “I…spoke to Collins—”

“Damn the boy, I should have known he’d cave,” said Miss Fisher, a half-frightened laugh in her voice. “Yes, I thought you were dead, Jack, what of it?”

“You ran halfway through Melbourne in your dressing gown,” said Jack, not sure where he was going with this, only that his heart was pounding and he wished Miss Fisher would stop smiling like this was some kind of a joke. “Phryne, you could have been hurt, you could be more seriously ill than you already are—”

Miss Fisher’s smile was shaking. “Jack, please, I don’t—I can’t talk about this,” she said unsteadily.

“It seems to me as though we might have quite a lot to talk about,” said Jack quietly.

“Well, I don’t—I don’t want to talk about it!” said Miss Fisher, an angry flush rising in her cheeks. “I don’t have to if I don’t want to and I don’t want to, Jack, and I’m sick—”

“Sick, and still trying to make escape attempts?”

“Oh, why can’t anyone in this house keep their mouth shut!” burst out Miss Fisher (Jack decided now wasn’t the time to point out that Collins wasn’t technically a part of Miss Fisher’s staff). “Have you ever considered, Jack, that there are some things I just don’t want you to know about? It isn’t any of your business if I choose to run all the way to Melbourne in my dressing gown—”

“You seem perfectly all right with making my business your business at every point in time,” Jack retorted, stung. “And yet you’re furious if I ask for at least a little more transparency?”

“I think you should leave,” said Miss Fisher, glaring at him over the blankets.

“I think I deserve at least one answer when someone I care about—” Miss Fisher flinched as though she’d been hit; Jack only barely recognized this, “—throws herself in danger because she thinks I’m dead—”

“You’re being incredibly melodramatic, Jack, it’s not as though I threw myself in front of a moving train—”

“Phryne, this is serious,” said Jack, and his voice caught. “You’d have me believe that our partnership is something that matters little to you beyond the crimes we solve and the nightcaps in your parlor, but I sawyou in the office—”

“Stop.”

“—and you looked as though you might crumble to bits—”

“Stop, Jack.”

“—and we need to talk about this, this isn’t something we can just brush over and hide away—”

“Well, it damn well should be!”

Jack stopped. Phryne’s eyes were glittering with tears. He’d pushed too far, he realized, taken for granted that Miss Fisher was, at her core, unshakable. He swallowed, hard, then crossed the room, stooping to pick up his overcoat.

“Leave it,” said Phryne in a small voice.

“It’s my coat, Phryne,” said Jack, exhausted.

“I thought you were dead, Jack,” said Phryne. Her voice was shaking; such was the effort she was putting into holding back tears. “I can’t talk to you about this. I don’t know how.”

Jack picked up the coat, then sat down on the edge of the bed, bundling it up and handing it to Phryne. She hugged it to her chest. “All right,” he said quietly. “So we don’t talk about it and we go back to normal. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” said Phryne. “That’s what I want.”

Jack nodded. “Then I suppose I should—” he began.

Phryne reached out without a word, her fingers stroking his cheek. Jack’s breath caught in his chest. For the first time, he admitted to himself that he had thought about this moment, more than in passing, and wanted it more desperately than he had ever expected. But she looked so shaken by whatever it was she felt for him, and he had never, never wanted that.

She wasn’t ready, Jack realized. But he could wait for quite a while, now that he knew there was something between them to wait for. He let his head fall forward, resting his forehead against Phryne’s. “It’s all right, Miss Fisher,” he said, and the name felt less like a formality and more like an endearment. “I’m all right. I promise.”

Phryne gave him a flicker of a smile and closed her eyes.

There was a knock on the door. Phryne jerked her hand away, flattening herself against the pillows; Jack took the hint and stood up. “Tea, Miss?” Dot called. “Or are you already climbing out the window with the Inspector?”

“Yes, Dot, it’s all an elaborately staged break-out attempt,” Phryne called back, looking extremely amused. Jack smiled a bit; she smiled rather unsteadily back. Still not quite better, then, Jack thought, but she seemed closer to her usual playful self than she had been before. “Do come in, I could use the company.”

“And doesn’t that make me feel appreciated,” Jack quipped as Dot entered with the tea tray. Before he could lose his nerve, he reached out, quickly squeezing Miss Fisher’s hand. “I really should be off,” he said. “Crime never sleeps, and the string of murders—”

“Oh don’t talk murder with me, Jack, you’ll make me want to really break out of my own home and help you investigate,” sighed Phryne dramatically. That easy smile was back again now that Dot was in the room, which both comforted Jack and made him feel a strange sense of loss. It had been messier, her vulnerability, but it had also been more honest. Less shadows and subterfuge. “If you must be off, be off, and leave me to my extremely boring convalescence.”

“I’ll do my best to drop by again,” said Jack, “make it a bit less boring,” then added hastily, “if I’m welcome, of course,” because their conversation had, as always, left quite a few things ambiguous.

“You’re always welcome, Jack,” said Phryne, her voice softening. Everything did feel so much easier when Dot was in the room—a reminder to both of them that nothing could be too intimate, too revealing, too honest. Jack thought that that probably wasn’t a good sign, but didn’t care: he wanted Phryne to touch him again. He wanted to comfort her, wanted to help her, and now that he knew he could—

Dot cleared her throat.

Realizing that he had been staring at Phryne long enough for it to look odd, Jack stood, hoping he wasn’t blushing himself. “Um, you can—you can keep the overcoat,” he added awkwardly, “I have. Many overcoats,” and then hurried out of the room. It then occurred to him that I have many overcoats was not the note he wanted to end such an intimate exchange on, and so he stuck his head back into the bedroom, added, “Goodbye,” and realized that this was more awkward.

Phryne was smiling, though. That made things relatively all right. “Till next time, Inspector,” she said, and snuggled back into the pillows.

The victim had been in his late sixties, well-dressed, no identification. He’d been placed strategically in the middle of the street, in front of a car with a bloody fender, but according to the coroner, the cause of death was poisoning. There were no visible injuries under his bloody clothing, which raised quite a few questions about whose blood had been on his jacket—

“—can I see that, Jack?” chirped Phryne, peering over his shoulder.

Jack jumped, flinging the coroner’s report into the air and sending papers flying everywhere. “Miss Fisher, have you heard of knocking?” he demanded.

“Well, Dot’s finally released me from house arrest—”

“Is that what they’re calling bed rest these days?”

“—and I checked in with Collins to see if you needed my help, and he said he thought you might,” Phryne finished.

“I didn’t say that, sir!” Collins yelped from the front office.

“You two do seem to have a history of mangled messages,” said Jack, mouth twitching.

Phryne’s easy smile froze on her face. There was a strange, strained silence, and then she said, much too loudly, “So about that murder?”

“Are we just going to avoid the subject entirely, then?” said Jack. “It seems a bit difficult to—”

“It says here that the victim was poisoned,” said Phryne, still in an aggressively loud tone of voice. Was she blushing? “Can you tell me a bit more about that?”

“Well, it’s cyanide,” said Jack, bemused. “Fairly straightforward. Phryne, am I not at least allowed to mention—”

“No,” said Phryne.

Deciding not to press the issue further, Jack stooped to pick up the coroner’s report at the same time that Phryne did. As they reached for the paper, their fingers brushed.

And Jack truly didn’t know what possessed him. It was just that Phryne had looked so small amidst all those pillows, sans red lipstick, close to tears. He reached out for her hand, and he took it over the coroner’s report, holding it quietly and tightly. He couldn’t remember how to be frightened of her snatching her hand away; all he could think was I cannot bear that look on her face.

Immediately, Phryne dropped the corner of the coroner’s report she was holding, ignoring it in favor of gripping Jack’s hand as tightly as she possibly could. She didn’t say anything, but the expression on her face was terrifyingly open, terrifyingly vulnerable. Jack felt as though he had been entrusted with something well beyond his ability to care for. “Miss Fisher,” he whispered, and couldn’t think of a way to end the sentence.

“Sir?” called Collins from the front office.

Phryne jumped away from Jack in a way that reminded him a bit of a skittish baby animal. “Yes, Collins?” he called back, standing up with some frustration; as inappropriate as the time and place was, he’d felt like they were getting somewhere.

“I should go, I should—” Phryne was babbling, already drawing back.

“No,” said Jack, “stay,” and caught the sleeve of her coat just as Collins stepped into the room. “What is it, Collins?”

Collins directed a bewildered look to Jack’s hand on Phryne’s sleeve, seemed to decide (correctly) that any line of questioning about said hand wouldn’t end well for him, and said awkwardly, “Um, there’s—there’s a witness to the poisoning who just turned up looking for the deceased.”

“Splendid,” said Phryne very loudly, directing a hugely plastic smile in Jack’s direction. “Isn’t it lovely when the solutions just turn up on your doorstep?”

“Miss Fisher,” Jack persisted, well aware that he was fighting a losing battle, “we were in the middle of a discussion—”

“No we weren’t, we were making small talk,” Phryne chirped, tugging her sleeve free of his hand and sailing past him. “Besides which, Jack, you’ve always impressed upon me the incredible importance of prioritizing work before one’s personal life. You’re the witness?” she added to whoever was waiting outside Jack’s office.

Jack leaned back against the desk, a mixture of exasperated and distraught. It wasn’t right, seeing Phryne this affected and not being able to do a single damn thing about it. All he wanted to do was be there for her, in any capacity she felt ready for; it ached, knowing that she might not be ready for anything at all.

The solution, as it happened, had not turned up on their doorstep. The witness ended up being the murderer, the person implicated by the witness ended up being the perpetrator of a different crime entirely, and now Jack was going to have to file a ridiculous amount of paperwork caused by this rigmarole of a case. Generally, the solving of a complex puzzle like this one left him buzzing with a quiet, pleased energy, but with Phryne’s smile free of its usual sparkle, all he could really think about was the people who had gotten hurt by this ridiculous mess. He hadn’t realized how much Miss Fisher’s determined joy had helped when it came to the tougher cases.

“Nightcap?” he found himself asking as they left the station.

Phryne let out a soft, quiet laugh. “You really are worried about me, aren’t you?” she said lightly.

“What makes you think that?”

“Usually you wander into my home as though you’ve lost your way to your own,” said Phryne wryly, gaze pointed purposefully ahead. “I always have to pretend that I wasn’t waiting up for you.”

This took Jack by surprise. “You’ve been waiting up for me?”

Phryne did look at him, at that. “You didn’t know?” she said, and there was that look in her eyes again. Vulnerable, and somewhat frightened by it.

Jack cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward. He felt as though she might take any excuse to get out of this conversation if it became too honest. Carefully, he said, “I suppose I assumed you had better things to do than to wait around for me.”

“A sensible assumption to make,” said Phryne. She bit her lip, exhaled, and then—oh. Her hand, small and sure, slipped into his, entwining their fingers. She didn’t once look away from him.

All rational thought was knocked out of Jack’s head.

“I think I am, though,” said Phryne, and gave him a nervous, self-deprecating smile. “Waiting around for you. Quite unusual, really, considering my tendency for passionate yet largely loveless romantic connections.”

Jack’s heart was pounding. He couldn’t find a single appropriate response to that.

“Jack, when I thought you were dead, I…” Phryne trailed off, her smile trembling. “I was without reason,” she said. “I couldn’t think beyond the fact that if I went to the station, things would all make sense again.” She swallowed, hard. “We make sense,” she said. “What we do together—that makes sense to me. It isn’t at all traditional, and that bothers me, because you have always struck me as the sort of man who values tradition—”

“Well, I spent the better half of last year falling madly in love with a flighty socialite who regularly breaks and enters, so I’d say you should throw that theory out the window,” said Jack before he could stop himself.

He was rather expecting Phryne to draw back, but she exhaled, almost a laugh. “I suppose that’s fair,” she said, eyes shining.

“You don’t look at all surprised,” said Jack, a little startled.

“Oh, men fall in love with me all the time,” said Phryne, waving a hand. The remark didn’t have time enough to sting, though, because then she said, “I’m saving my energy for being utterly shocked that I fell in love right back.”

Jack stared at her, mouth half-open. Weakly, he said, “Is this why—”

“Why I’ve been an utter mess?” Phryne gave him a small, tired grin. “Well, it’s largely the cause. It certainly doesn’t help to realize you’re in love the exact second you think the man you love is dead.” Her smile faded. “Those horrible hours when I thought you were dead, all I knew was I wanted you here, with me, and that I would never have the chance to tell you—” She swallowed, tugging her hand away from Jack’s to wipe roughly at her eyes.

Jack rummaged in his pocket and fished out a handkerchief, dabbing at her face.

“Don’t patronize me,” said Phryne a bit waspishly.

“I love you too, Phryne,” said Jack dryly.

And somehow, that was what did it. One moment, Jack was lowering the handkerchief to pocket it again, and the next, his arms were full of Miss Fisher, both of them kissing clumsily and ungracefully in their effort to be as close to each other as possible. Part of this might have been because Phryne was crying. Part of this was certainly because they had been waiting a good year and a half for this moment, which was a terribly long time when one courted death on a daily basis.

Phryne was the one to pull back, burying her face in Jack’s shoulder. She was shaking. “Phryne,” Jack whispered, kissing her hair, trying to reassure her through touch alone. “Phryne—”

“Jack, my heart is a terrible judge of character,” said Phryne shakily, “and I did not want to fall in love again.”

Not for the first time, Jack rather wished he’d been the one to drive the knife into Rene Dubois. “We’ll muddle through,” he promised.

“You’re a detective inspector,” Phryne persisted. “Your reputation—”

“That didn’t seem to bother you when you were turning up to solve all my cases,” Jack reminded her.

“And what happens if I never marry you?”

“I didn’t think for a moment that marriage was on the table,” said Jack gently. “I don’t see the point in pressing the issue if it’s something that’ll make you miserable.”

Phryne looked up at him with a wobbly smile. “You really are a noble man, Jack Robinson,” she said.

“It’s hardly nobility to want you to be happy,” Jack objected gently, and punctuated the statement with a slightly less desperate kiss. It was all but dizzying, kissing her this casually. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected to have with her. “I love you,” he said again, very softly. “I hope it doesn’t frighten you off.”

“Not much frightens me off,” said Phryne, tossing her hair and giving him a genuine grin.

“I’m well aware,” said Jack. Then, “Some things should, though.”

“We can have this discussion at a later date,” said Phryne, her grin widening as she looped her arms around his neck. “For now, though, I rather think I am going to busy myself with being ridiculously happy. That or I’ll have a good cry. It’s a bit up in the air at this juncture.”

“I’ll take you home,” said Jack.

“I’ll take you home,” said Phryne, her grip tightening around him. “I still have to return your overcoat.”

“You don’t still want it?” Jack teased gently.

“Why should I?” Phryne tilted her head back, smiling up at him. Her eyes flitted blatantly to his mouth. “I’m certainly not one to settle for anything less than the real thing.”

Jack grinned, and kissed her again, this one slower and more languid than the others. There was no undercurrent of urgency in this kiss, nor was it tinged with a desire to comfort: this, Jack thought, was kissing Phryne solely because he wanted to kiss Phryne, and it was an experience unlike any other. “I love you very much, Phryne Fisher,” he whispered, pulling back just enough for his lips to still brush hers when he spoke.

He felt Phryne’s hands cupping his face. “As I love you, Jack Robinson,” she whispered back, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him again.

Jack awoke at the quiet creak of the bedroom door opening. He blinked, winced at the sunlight, realized his arm was still thrown over Phryne’s waist, and felt a rush of joy that was all but dizzying in its intensity.

“Hmm!” said Dot, giving them both an amused look, and set the breakfast tray down in front of the bed before quietly exiting the room.

“She’ll never let us hear the end of this one,” said Phryne, and let out a happy sigh when Jack kissed her shoulder in response.

[ohpedromypedros-main]

Every Sense of the Way (Part 4)

For first time readers, here are parts one, two, and three!

Author: @bill-skarsgard-writings

Word Count: 3,098

Characters: Roman x Reader, Shelley, Peter, Stina(OC)

Pairings: Roman x Reader

Warnings: Angst, adult language (use of the word cunt like once lmao), cute shit at the end.

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Summary: The reader has gotten extremely close to Shelley, best friends for that matter, so when the reader’s current bestie shows up and harasses her, Shelley’s right there and has her back. But that still doesn’t stop the reader from having some small insecurities about her relationship with Roman.

It was a Saturday afternoon when you had gotten a text from Shelley seeing if you wanted to join her for a drink at the coffee shop downtown. The two of you had gotten very close since the day you first met her and if anyone were to ask you, you'd say she were your best friend. Stina hadn't spoken to you in a couple of weeks; not a call, text, or anything. You figured maybe she was busy doing her own thing, so you didn't bother trying to get into contact with her. Besides, you had Shelley now to spend time with and to be honest, you preferred spending your free time with her over Stina. Shelley was more supportive of you, more of a sister figure than Stina ever was.

When you arrived at the coffee shop, you headed inside and over to where Shelley was waiting at a table for you. She had already ordered your drinks, seeing as you had told her what you wanted through text, so your coffee was ready for you when you got there. Greeting her with a grin, you sat down in the chair across from her.

“Hey, Shel.”

“Hey, Y/N! Thanks for meeting up with me,” she smiled.

“No need for thanks. I enjoy hanging out with you.”

“I'm glad you do. Not many people enjoy my company. I tend to scare them off.”

“Well, I'm not like other people,” you chuckled, sipping your coffee.

“So I've been told,” she teased, smirk spread across her face.

“Oh yeah? Let me guess, Roman tell you all about me?”

“Everything. He really loves you, you know. I've never seen him so happy over a girl before. Usually girls are just a fuck for him, but you're different. I see the love in his eyes when he talks about you. Plus, you're very sweet and you're an amazing friend. I like you more than most other people in this town.”

“Aww thanks, Shel. That's means a lot. As long as I have someone's approval in his family,” you laughed.

“Ah... My mother being a bitch as always?” She rolled her eyes, setting her cup back on the table after taking a sip.

“I overheard her a couple months ago threatening Roman that she was going to talk to Human Resources about our relationship. I really don't think she likes me,” you shrugged.

“Wait, really? I mean...yeah you're his secretary, but that doesn't mean you can't have a relationship. As long as you're not being public about it while you're working, everything should be fine.”

“You should tell your mother that,” you snorted, shaking your head. “Maybe it'll make her stop trying to find ways to break us up. But I highly doubt it.”

“Give her time. Maybe she'll finally warm up to you.”

“I hope so. There's nothing worse than not having your boyfriend's mother's approval.”

“Trust me, Roman is in no way a momma's boy, so not having her approval shouldn't be a worry for you. Roman doesn't care what she thinks or how she feels, their relationship isn't the greatest.”

“Well, I guess that's a bit comforting to know,” you laughed.

“Yeah. Believe me when I say, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you, Shelley.”

“It's the truth. No need for thanks.”

You hoped Shelley was right, that eventually Olivia would give in and accept you into the family. She was right about one thing, though, and that would be Roman not caring whether he had Olivia's approval or not. He loved you no matter what anyone thought, his mother included, and he wasn't about to let her ruin his chance at love.

“So what's Roman doing today anyway?” Shelley asked. “I know he doesn't work on Saturdays.”

“He mentioned something about meeting up with Peter. I swear, when those two are together they're just so mysterious.”

“Roman's never mentioned the dreams?”

“Dreams?” You questioned, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “I mean, when I first met Peter, he had mentioned something to Roman about a dream he had, but I didn't think much of it at the time.”

“To sum it up, Peter and Roman both have these terrible dreams, sometimes they dream of the same thing, but the biggest thing is that their dreams come true.”

You felt a sudden lump form in your throat, trying your hardest to swallow whatever fear had overcome you in that moment. Shelley noticed this and reached across the table to soothingly touch your hand.

“Hey, it's okay.”

“How come Roman never mentioned this to me?”

“Maybe he didn't want you to worry? They're just dreams.”

“That you said come true,” you whispered.

“Okay let me rephrase that, they sometimes come true. Most of the time Peter and Roman find ways to stop their dreams from becoming a reality. It's probably why they're together. Maybe they had another dream.”

“Do...do you think I should not mention to Roman that I know about them? The dreams?”

“That's probably best. Lord only knows what he'd would do or say if he found out you knew about them. He's probably kept it secret for so long because he's afraid it'll put you in danger.”

“I don't see how or why it would. It's not like the dreams can just manifest into someone or something and hurt me.”

“I know, but you know Roman. He wouldn't take any chances.”

“I suppose you're right.”

You grabbed your coffee mug, finishing it's remaining contents in a few sips before setting it back on the table and pushing it aside with the back of your hand.

“Would you like to come over to my place and relax for the rest of the day?” You smiled. “Watch some movies, maybe eat a fuck ton of junk food?”

Shelley laughed, nodding her head with a wide smile.

“I'd like that.”

“Great! Come on, I've got a whole selection of movies just waiting for us to look through.”

You were on your second movie with Shelley, both having been Rom Coms, and you let out a huff when you realized you ran out of popcorn.

“I've gotta make another bowl of popcorn. Pause the movie while I make some more?”

“Sure. I've gotta pee anyway,” she laughed, grabbing the remote and pressing pause.

You laughed a little at her pee comment before getting up from your array of blankets on the floor to head to the kitchen and make some more popcorn. As you hit the start button on the microwave once the bag was in, you heard several loud knocks on your front door. Furrowing your brows, you stepped out of the kitchen to the front entrance of your small home to open the door.

“You're a fucking cunt!”

You were taken aback by the sudden insult and it took you a moment to realize that it was Stina who had screamed in your face.

“Stina? What are yo--”

“You're seeing Roman?! Even after I told you not to?! He's a man whore, Y/N! I told you that!”

“Actually,” you glared. “He hasn't slept with a single girl since we got together.”

“What the fuck are you implying?” She spat.

“That uh... Maybe I'm different from the rest of the girls he's fucked? That he actually genuinely cares about me and loves me?”

Stina laughed harshly at your response, arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh please. If Roman wouldn't give up fucking all these girls for me, then he certainly wouldn't give it up for you.”

“Excuse me? Did yo-- Wait... Are you saying you're one of the girls that Roman turned down?” You asked, laughing at how pathetic she was. “Oh my God I should have known. You were acting so fucking weird the day you told me to stay away from him, I just didn't realize you were one of the girls you were talking about.”

“He doesn't love you. Roman doesn't know how to love. You're pathetic for even thinking he could ever love you.”

“Oh? Then why--”

“Actually, bitch,” Shelley came up from behind you, having heard everything Stina had said to you. Her face said it all. She was pissed. “Roman absolutely loves Y/N. You should see the way he looks at her, hear all the things he says about her. Roman never knew how to love until he met Y/N, so you can take your jealous little ass out of here before you end up regretting stepping foot on her doorstep.”

“What are you gonna do? Kill me?” Stina snorted, giving her eyes an over dramatic role.

“Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do to you,” Shelley glared, taking a step toward Stina.

Stina took a step back, clearly frightened by the hatred in Shelley's eyes. She looked between the both of you before huffing and turning to walk away. She made it to the end of the walkway before turning back to where you and Shelley were still standing in the doorway.

“This isn't over!” She screamed, stomping around to the driver's side of her car and getting inside. She immediately started the engine, speeding off down the road in an angry rage.

You sighed to yourself, shaking your head as you closed the door and locked it. You turned to Shelley with a smile, genuinely happy that she had said all those things about Roman and you. That only proved that Shelley was your true best friend, that she had your back no matter what. You moved to wrap your arms around her for a tight embrace, face buried in her shirt.

“Thank you, Shel.”

“I wasn't going to stand there and let her get in your head. She's a petty ass bitch who's just jealous that she never had and never will have a chance with my brother.”

“Yeah you're right,” you sighed. “So much for that friendship.”

“Y/N, she was never your friend if she told you to stay away from Roman in the first place. If she were, she'd be happy for you, happy that Roman finally found love. But since she's so far up her own ass and thinks she's something special, she's not your friend. Never was.”

“I'm just happy I have you. You're my absolute best friend, Shel. You really are.”

“And you're mine,” she grinned, picking you up and spinning you around. You let out a squeal, breaking into a fit of laughter as she spun you in circles. She set you down after a moment, holding you in place while you regained your balance.

“I love you,” you laughed.

“I love you too.”

“Let's go finish our movie. The popcorn is probably getting cold.”

“Sounds good to me.”

After grabbing the popcorn from the microwave and heading back to your literal bed of blankets on the living room floor, you opened the bag and emptied its contents into the bowl you had set on the blanket between you and Shelley. Shelley hit play on the remote, the both of you moving to lay back on the blankets and snuggle up together.

Shelley truly was your best friend. She was one of the most kindhearted people you'd ever met and it confused you beyond anything as to why people never gave her a chance. Yes, she didn't look the same as anyone else, her slight deformity making her look a bit terrifying, but that in no way signified that she was a monster. She was far from a monster.

Once the second movie ended, you immediately got up from your comfortable position to eject the disc from the DVD player, carefully clicking it into place in its case and setting it on the entertainment center. You were about to grab another movie when your phone began to ring, so you grabbed it from the floor, smiling when you saw Roman was calling. Plopping down on your butt, you hit answer, putting the call on speaker right after.

“Hey, Ro. What's up?” You grinned.

“Was just about to ask you the same thing,” he chuckled. “What's my favorite girl up to?”

“Hanging out with Shelley at my place. We've been watching movies the past few hours after having met up for coffee earlier.”

“Aw. I'm really glad you two are getting close. It makes me happy knowing Shelley has someone to spend her time with.”

“Yeah, she's my best friend,” you smiled, glancing over at Shelley who was grinning widely at you.

“That makes me extremely happy to hear. Mind if Peter and I come by to join you girls?”

“I don't mind at all. What about you, Shel?”

“I'm perfectly fine with that,” she smiled.

“Wonderful. We'll be over in a few. Love you both.”

“We love you too,” you both said in unison.

After hanging up with Roman, you curled up beside Shelley again, content sigh passing your lips.

“I'm so in love with your brother, you know that?”

“Indeed I do,” she laughed.

“He just...makes me happier than I've ever been. I've never been treated so well, so...royally,” you giggled.

“I mean... He does refer to you as his queen when he talks to me about you.”

“Wait... he does?” You asked, biting your lip.

“Yes ma'am.”

“Wow,” you giggled. “That's wonderful to hear. I mean, he calls me Princess during sex, but--”

“Okay I love you, but TMI,” she laughed.

“Sorry.”

“It's okay. I just really don't need to hear what my brother does during sex.”

“Then I shall leave out what I call him during sex.”

“Oh God I do not want to know what that would be.”

You gave her a smirk, wiggling your eyebrows in a playful manner. She only laughed, shaking her head with a small eye roll. Your front door opened and closed after a moment and you both sat up to see Roman and Peter strolling into the living room.

“Nice set up,” Peter laughed, walking over to your pile of blankets and plopping down on top of them. “So comfy and warm. I may just go ahead and take a nap.”

“Go for it,” you laughed. “Shel and I almost fell asleep watching our movies.”

Peter only hummed, face buried in the blankets. You got up a moment later, going over to Roman and wrapping your arms around his neck, standing on your tip toes to press a long kiss to his lips. He smiled, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you flush against him.

“Missed you,” he murmured.

“I missed you more.”

“Mm nope. Totally missed you the most.”

You giggled, pulling back to playfully swat his chest.

“Fine. You missed me the most.”

“Good girl.”

“Uh huh,” you grinned.

“Oh yeah I almost forgot to ask, what the hell is with the tire marks outside your house?”

You looked from Roman to Shelley who gave you a reassuring smile. You sighed softly, looking back to Roman.

“About that... Can we talk?”

“About?”

“Privately,” you mumbled.

Roman kinda furrowed his brows, but nodded his head anyway. He was concerned about what the talk was going to be about. Did his mother show up and harass you again? He surely hoped not because he would put a stop to that immediately. Taking Roman's hand, you led him upstairs to your room where you sat down on your bed with a sigh.

“You love me, right?”

“Of course I love you,” he frowned. “What's this about?”

“Well my best, uh... ex best friend showed up not too long ago...”

“Stina?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“What happened?”

“Sh-she told me that you could never love me because you don't know how to love... That all you want is a fuck. And she said all the girls who wanted more than just a fuck, you turned down.”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Okay I'm going to stop you right there. That dumb bitch was the only girl that I've ever slept with who wanted more than just sex. She's lying to you, Y/N. She's jealous of you. Clearly she's mad that I didn't give up sleeping around to be in a relationship with her, but I did for you. She wants to be you, but she'll never be you.”

“Really?” You whispered.

Roman walked to where you were sat on your bed, kneeling down in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

“Yes. Y/N, I did never know how to love, but then I met you. You changed everything for me. The moment I fell in love with you, I knew at that point you're the only person I want to spend my life with; the only girl I ever want to make moan my name, to make orgasm as you drench my cock with your cum, the only girl I want to kiss, to hold, to say that I love you. You're everything I've ever dreamed of.”

Tears welled in your eyes at his words and you sank down to your knees on the floor to wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest with a happy sob.

“Oh, Roman. I love you, I'll always love you, and I'll never let anything anyone says bring me down again.”

“That's my girl,” he murmured, rubbing his hand along your back. “Now come on, let's get back downstairs to Shelley and Peter and watch some movies together. And if you're lucky, I'll secretly finger you under the blankets.”

His words made you blush and you pulled back from his embrace to see him biting his lip with a smirk. He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your lips, thumbs brushing away your stray tears. Smiling, you got up from the floor, helping Roman up and letting him lead you back downstairs to rejoin Shelley and Peter.

“You two good?” Peter asked, slightly concerned.

“Yeah,” Roman smiled, gazing at you with the most loving eyes. “We're good.”

Roman x Reader tag list: @weak-aesthetic @skarsgardtrash @sebbystanxbuckybarnes @the-fandom-phantom-fanfics @mango307 @elizabethkatarina @my-fan-girl-life @jadelynlace

Everything taglist: @cecesunshine-fanfictions @this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms @scarlett-lehane @jughead-wuz-here @penni-saur

A/N: I’ve noticed a lot of people who asked to be in tag lists have changed their usernames, so if you want to still be one of my taglists, please let me know so I can readd you!

[dyfreedom-laura]

If You’re Wondering If He Loves You, These 9 Signs Will Tell You

If You’re Wondering If He Loves You, These 9 Signs Will Tell You

Your friends tell you that your boyfriend treats you very well and that he’s always there when you need him, but you just can’t seem to be able to fall in love with him as quickly as they did when they started dating their boyfriends. Is he really the right guy for you?

Or are there simply too many red flags popping up in your relationship to let yourself fall in love fully? Here are nine signs that will help you realize if your guy really loves you or if he’s just using you.

Talks To You About Future Plans

Men who love you will talk about future plans with you. He may not be ready to set a date just yet, but he’ll be interested in planning for it. If he tells you his goals and he wants your input on them — that means he needs you. Men who love their partners want to be around them for as long as possible, so talking about your future together is an indicator of his commitment to a relationship with you.

Talking about us time versus me time is an indication of how much time and energy they’ll put into a relationship. For example, if he asks you what kinds of vacations or activities you like or would like to try — and then gives that some thought himself before coming back to tell you what he thinks might be fun — chances are good he’s thinking about building something special with you.

Also, when men really care about someone, they have a tendency to over-help or do too much: driving all over town looking for just the right thing for their loved one; doing endless errands without letting her lift a finger; etc. When women start expressing frustration at these attempts at service (especially if things are starting to pile up), men need to hear more than stop being helpful. Instead, encourage him by saying things like Thank you so much!

Is Jealous

It’s natural to want to be someone’s one and only. There are few feelings worse than discovering that your man has been talking to other women behind your back. Jealousy could mean that he feels threatened by other women or is afraid of losing you; if he feels secure in your relationship, he shouldn’t get upset when he sees you talking to other men at a party.

If you notice jealousy is an issue in your relationship, try reassuring him by pointing out how much fun it is to go on double dates or hanging out with his friends as a couple.

📷

Does Nice Things For Others With No Expectation Of Something In Return

When you’re dating someone and wondering if he loves you (or she does), it’s important to pay attention to those little gestures of kindness. A boyfriend or girlfriend who is just using you for your money will make sure that everything appears on paper as though you’re both in a fair relationship, but their actions won’t match up with what they say.

When someone has genuine feelings for you, they’ll do nice things for others as an act of generosity and because they know how to make others happy. At its core, love is not just about receiving something; it’s about being able to give something.

Accuses You Of Cheating

This isn’t necessarily a deal-breaker in and of itself. However, if your partner regularly accuses you of cheating on him or her (or you accuse your partner), it might be time to reevaluate whether it’s really worth all that stress. After all, being constantly suspicious is stressful and rarely ends well.

And if he or she always sees you as a potential cheat—even when there’s no evidence of cheating—it might mean that he doesn’t trust you and isn’t respecting you. And yes, we said he or she. Anyone can accuse his or her significant other of cheating; it has nothing to do with gender.

Values Your Opinions

It’s a common misconception that men only love women who listen to them. It may sound somewhat sexist (and we’re not saying it isn’t) but men don’t need you to be their therapist; they just want you to make them feel like they matter. No one likes talking to someone who doesn’t care about what they have to say, so show your partner that you value his opinion by asking him how he feels and actually listening (not just waiting for your turn to talk). We promise he’ll appreciate it more than you know. In fact, if there’s anything men crave more than affection, it might be appreciation.

Once again, sounds slightly chauvinistic (but whatever), but remember: Ladies first! What woman wants to jump into bed with her man every night if she knows she’s going to get ignored? And after you’ve been dating long enough, sex won’t always trump conversation as much as it used to…be patient. You may find yourself having some pretty in-depth conversations before too long.

Flirts With Other People In Front Of You

Men who are only in it for a quick fling are actually more respectful. They know their limits and don’t go too far. A man who flirts with other women right in front of you is not ready to settle down. No matter how much he says he loves you, or calls you his woman—if he doesn’t respect your space, then he is not truly committed to a long-term relationship with you. Trust me on that one!

Flirting with other people makes him feel powerful. I’ve been doing research on what men really want from relationships, one of which is power and superiority over other women. By flirting with others around you, he’s subconsciously letting you know that even though he’s with you now – there are always going to be others out there vying for his attention as well.

📷

Makes Time For You After A Long Day At Work

It doesn’t matter if he has to leave early for a business trip—he’ll still find time for you. Maybe it means you get some time on your own to unwind after a long day at work or go out with friends before he picks you up later that night.

The point is, he takes care of his obligations and then makes sure he’s with you. This will be true from beginning to end (i.e., if there are children involved). He commits—no matter what. A man who loves you will try as hard as possible to keep his commitments and make time for what’s important: being with you! And guess what?

Gives More Than He Takes

Guys may not always be able to give you as much affection as you want or as much attention as you’d like. But if he does things like staying up with you late at night when you have a bad headache, or listening to your work problems over dinner and offering advice, that’s huge. It means he wants to see you succeed and will do whatever it takes to help. A sign of love is someone who actually listens and cares about what you have to say—not just in bed but in life too.

So even if he doesn’t spend every waking moment doting on you, keep an eye out for whether his words are show-don’t-tell. And by that we mean: Does he talk more about his own interests than yours? Does he neglect to ask questions when talking with you? Chances are, yes—and that’s a big warning sign that’s definitely worth keeping an eye on.

Holds Your Hand

There are lots of ways to show affection, but nothing says love like a simple touch. It doesn’t matter if it’s in public or if you’re just hanging out with your friends—if he holds your hand for no reason at all it means he cares about you.

That might sound like a little thing, but there’s a lot more to physical contact than casual observers realize. Holding hands is actually much more intimate than people think; in fact, it’s one of two things you can do (along with kissing) that sparks activity in those feel-good dopamine receptors. No wonder holding hands leads to better relationships and overall happiness!

📷

[ganymedesclock]

ok so i just saw a post that was like "keith never defends himself". like all the times lance insults him he never bristles up enough for it to turn into a fight, and when Allura is pissed about the "half galra" thing he just... accepts it. I don't think there's anywhere in canon where he actually gets upset for himself? like even when BoM!shiro called him selfish he seemed more apologetic than anything. i really want to hear your input on this, bc your character analysis is incredible,

So this is... picking at two actually unrelated threads.

The first thread: You’re right in that Keith clearly invests less in the rivalry than Lance does. This has nothing to do with Keith sticking up for himself, and it has a lot more to do with after the third episode, they are pretty much ambivalent to each other. Their “arguments”, both ways, become kind of lighthearted and ridiculous, not things to get offended about. Because in the first episode? We do see them nearly come to blows. Because at that point Lance is bitter and he’s taking shots at Keith that really hurt. Later on in the show that hurt isn’t there so neither is the vehemence of the response.

But in general, Keith isn’t passive towards Lance. The Paper Airplane comment in s1e9, s2e5′s “very far away.” We even see Keith instigate several times: s1e6 “Hey Lance, I got your Lion back,” and then claiming his radio isn’t working, s3e3′s “I’m glad we’re all making fun of Lance.”

Keith gives just as good as he gets. The thing is, again outside of the first two episodes it turns much more to playful rivalry. And even in those first few episodes, with the fall exercise in s1e2 both Keith and Lance pile into the ground because they both were escalating it. Also, arguably the first dispensed sass between the two of them was Keith to Lance. “We could toss off some non-essential weight.”

Keith is totally sassy! It takes him a little to open up to people enough to be willing to do that, but in s2e9 he cracks a joke at Hunk that Hunk points out. The thing is, he doesn’t care too much about the rivalry because he’s not particularly mad at Lance most of the time, and he never was. This was highlighted in the first scene with them together- you have Lance, hackles up, addressing his Rival, while Keith is sort of trying to recall who this person is and why Lance is so mad at him. Especially early on, you can see several times Keith just looks confusedly towards Lance, sees an irritated expression, and gets mad himself. So they bounce off each other as kind of a:

Keith “what the heck is your problem?”Lance “what the heck is YOUR problem?”

where both of them kinda feel like the other person started it. And as they get to know each other better, they learn what to, and what not to, take personally, and pretty much none of it is actually personal because they don’t hate each other.

You can see this pretty clearly at work in s3e3, for example- Lance gripes at Keith when he feels like Keith isn’t listening to him, but when Keith, super distraught, pretty much actively crawls back to Lance talking about how Lance was totally right and he got everyone in trouble- Lance clearly doesn’t exploit that, or even consider doing so- he sets his own ego aside, doesn’t mince words (”yeah, you kind of did”) but focuses on, in effect, reassurance- the issue is fixable, they can make this work and take responsibility and Lance is there to help him. And the only reason Lance was so angry in the first place was that he felt like Keith was putting the whole team in danger, which, he had a point.

Keith opens up these vulnerabilities to Lance because he can trust Lance with them. And Lance returns the favor- consider s3e6 and the “leave the math to Pidge” conversation. Again, Keith doesn’t mince words, but emphasizes proactive motion- that it’s okay, Lance can stay with Red, they’ll figure something out that doesn’t call for inordinate sacrifice from anyone. 

They’re “rivals” but they’re rivals who trust each other enough to actually genuinely let their guard down and say “here’s what I’m worried and scared about” and trust the other person isn’t going to mount it on their wall like a trophy because getting one up on each other was never a high priority and it’s certainly not higher than the other person’s wellbeing as a friend.

Keith doesn’t defend himself from Lance because Lance isn’t attacking. They have their back and forth but it’s harmless and they both react to it like it’s harmless. It might seem like Lance has a ‘bigger’ response because Lance generally is much more surface about his emotions than Keith is.

The second thread here: as you say, Keith specifically doesn’t defend himself against Allura’s rejection, and hologram Shiro’s rejection. I phrased that in a specific way because here’s the unifying thread there.

Keith is, to a traumatic degree, terrified of feeling abandoned by people. He laid this out very explicitly in his vlog: a large amount of his psychology was shaped by that first perceived abandonment- feeling like he was rejected by his mother. Later traumas- the loss of his father, likely rejections by other people in the foster system (official bio states he lost his parents at a young age, but doesn’t have any adopted family we know of which would suggest he shuffled around multiple places before leaving the system on his eighteenth birthday)- just sort of added fuel to that fire.

The reason why Keith folds up into a little ball and turns uncharacteristically passive in the face of perceived rejection from people he cares about (especially Shiro who is still a very high value friend to him) is that he is functionally, and quite literally, being triggered. His history and trauma tell him this is all his fault, that there’s a fundamental flaw in who he is, he’s a bad person and unlovable and everyone hates him.

Which isn’t true, not at all- but frankly? The way Keith engages with the whole galra revelation and Allura’s response, the way Keith sees this, it plays directly into his cognitive biases. His attempt at connecting with Acxa in the Weblum boils down to he’s trying to convince himself that maybe there’s a scrap of good to the galra that’s not just limited to the few rebels who’ve rejected their nature.

Keith is looking at his own heritage through a flawed eye here- so he doesn’t defend himself against Allura’s feelings, that she herself admits aren’t reasonable, that she still cares about Keith, that she’s hurt because she feels like he hid this from her and her own prior trauma is lending a huge amount of heat to it.

Because to Keith? Wholesale rejecting him for being a galra is perfectly reasonable. He’s got enough internalized issues he can’t really relate to the Blade because he’s a lot more scared he’s the other kind of galra they’ve encountered. The part of his brain that says “nobody likes you because something’s fundamentally wrong with you, all of these other people get along just fine,” just found something that seems to support that conclusion. “You’re related to the murderous space conquerors” is a hell of a lot louder in his mind than “the galra as a people are more complicated, we just met a bunch of rebels attacking them, even that mysterious person that robbed you saved your life and was not very Victory Or Death about it.”

The trial of Marmora was even more direct- it’s not showing us a real situation, it’s showing us Keith’s nightmare. That Shiro, too, will reject him, over some kind of perceived inherent nature (“You’re just being selfish like always”? not anything remotely approaching Shiro’s actual feelings or the reality of the situation) and leave, and Keith will end up alone and it’ll be his fault.

This is his worst fear, paired with ‘greatest hope’- that hurt, scared, and exhausted, he wants to see his only long-term friend pre-Voltron come tell him things are going to be okay.

Which, incidentally, it’s the hope, not the fear, that we see the real Shiro living up to. While it’s cut off by the awakening of the blade and Keith clearing the trial, Shiro would sooner fight his way past a huge organization like the Blade, alone, towing an injured Keith, than force Keith to give up the weapon to appease him. His decision, in that instant is, “I’m taking Keith, he’s taking his knife, and we’re leaving.”

But look at that picture- look at how Keith isn’t looking at Shiro. There’s a cognitive disconnect for Keith about how much other people mean to him.

In s1e4, we do see Keith trying to fight a perceived rejection- he’s the one who digs his heels in and yells at Pidge for trying to leave.

He aggressively avoids, in his logic, any implication of “please don’t do this, I care about you, I don’t want to lose you.” He tries to put everything in the most objective language he can put it in, but it’s pretty clear with how incredibly upset he is, this is not just about defending the universe.

Keith is both terrified of losing people and has an internalized attitude that he’s not good enough to make others want to stay around him. And this is something he’s processing, slowly, but out of the characters, this specter of perceived unworthiness is Keith’s demon- it’s what’s keeping him from the truth of who and what he is that is arguably his birthright as the Red Paladin, whose virtues are instinct, passion, and personal clarity.

In part, Keith has been deprived accurate mirrors to know himself- s1e10′s purple hand incident and the appearances of other half-galra we’ve seen tell us that Keith has seemingly been denied his own real appearance, as well as any contact with the galra half of his heritage. He has powers he doesn’t understand or even really realize they’re there, because no one has been around to recognize these qualities in him. He has had supports- Shiro and the other paladins- but all of them are, until outside intervention, just as stumped as he is.

But another part is- Keith is hiding from these revelations because he’s terrified of the idea of becoming- or having been all along- something unacceptable to other people. Something fated to be alone. Because again, deprived of people he can relate to and the context that makes everything about him make perfect sense? He’s mis-diagnosed himself hard as an inherently unlovable person and while that’s something he can fight in many situations, certain issues and scenarios seem to feed that fire and when it does, Keith tends to just give up.

So yeah- Keith doesn’t tend to defend himself when he feels like someone is rejecting him, and it’s a particular flavor of learned helplessness and cognitive biases.

[fyp-psychology]

12 Essential Communication Skills That Aren't Taught in Schools at All

“I’ve never let my schooling interfere with my education.” — Mark Twain

We’re taught the basics of communication early in the classroom. To be able to read, write, and speak effectively, we had to learn vocabulary, grammar, spelling, handwriting, and pronunciation. They were, however, focused on the rudimentary goal of imparting or exchanging information.

Communication goes much further than the academics of the written or spoken word. 

The purpose of communication is to build and grow connections with others at an emotional level. This is where classroom learning stops short and life learning kicks in. For many people, this transition can be rather jarring.

The earlier you master communication skills, the better for you — and those around you. Here is the cheat-sheet to the 12 essential communication skills your school missed:

Showing empathy

Theodore Roosevelt said, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.” Empathy makes us human. We stop being a twitter handle, a job title, or a faceless stranger when we can relate to the emotions of someone else. You connect with others much better when you show empathy in your communication.

How-to:

Be present with the person and feel what he feels. When someone opens up with his problems, see it from his point of view. Suspend your own judgment of what’s right or wrong. Listen to his emotions. Reflect back his vulnerability by sharing yours. Ask questions to go deeper into his world. Give encouragement. Offer to help if possible. Show the kindness and compassion you would hope to receive from someone else when in a similar situation.

Resolving conflict

This is the bomb disposal equivalent of communication skills. Left unchecked, conflict can leave relationships constantly tumultuous. Avoiding conflict altogether isn’t a solution either, as you’ll often be simmering with restrained frustration and resentment. Conflict often happens as a result of poor communication. To resolve such conflict, you’d need better communication skills.

How-to:

Respond, but never react. When you react to a conflict situation, you allow emotions to lead your words and actions. Responding to the situation means you keep emotions in check and focus on the problem, not the person. Let the other party know your intention to work out a mutually acceptable solution. Very often, the gesture of extending an olive branch is more important than actually coming to a solution, as it shows the person how much you value the relationship. Clearly and calmly communicate what you want from the situation and listen to the other party’s views. Understand what counts as a ‘win’ — winning the argument or winning the other person over. The two are very different.

Asking great questions

To be a better communicator, don’t try to be the person with all the right answers. Instead, be the one who asks all the right questions. When you ask great questions, you show that you’re eager to engage and open to exploring more into the topic. They encourage the other party to share more of his opinions, stimulate discussion, and even create new ideas. He won’t forget you in a hurry.

How-to:

Ask questions that could lead to interesting answers. To do that, keep your questions open-ended, that is, they cannot be answered with a simple “yes” or “no”. Let your questions come from a place of genuine curiosity. Consider how others can benefit from the answers. When you practice good listening skills, thoughtful questions will suggest themselves to you.

Negotiating effectively

Many people find negotiation one of the hardest communication skills to learn. They must be nice people. This one of the few communication skills that is mostly used to maximize self-interest. While there’s no avoiding it in life and work, to enter into a negotiation without negotiation skills is to go into a gunfight without a gun.

How-to:

Be assertive. Have options. Seek a win-win outcome. Recognize that if the other party wishes to negotiate, you have something they need. Be assertive in asking for what you want, aiming as high as you think is realistic for them. Listen to what they are saying (and not saying). Gather clues to how much they need what you have. Always have ready options should the negotiation fails — the other party can always sense your confidence or desperation. Show them how you’re looking for a win-win outcome by satisfying their basic interests too. If the deal goes through, it’s wiser to leave a bit of money on the table to enjoy a mutually beneficial relationship in the long run.

Proactive listening

This is the most underrated skill that can instantly make you a better communicator. Ever notice that when someone is a good talker, there’s something disingenuous or untrustworthy about him? But when a person is a good listener, we see her as someone who is patient, trusted, and generous.

When a person speaks, he believes he has something of value to share and wants to be heard. If he is not listened to, his self-esteem takes a hit. By listening to him intently, you immediately build a bond by validating his importance as a person or professional.

How-to:

Listen to the other party like she’s the most important person in the world at that moment. Be fully engaged and present with her. Block off all judgment of what she says or what that says about her. Keep your mind from thinking of what you’re going to say. Listen to not just her words, but also her emotions. The tone of voice, pace of speech, and shift in energy can tell you much more about her. This makes it easier for you to respond in the most appropriate way.

Using body language

You should know that almost 97% of all communication is non-verbal. It’s not about what you say, but the overall experience people take away from their encounter with you. The message you send out without even saying a word is the impression others have of you. As humans, we are conditioned to observe people and make snap decisions if a person is a friend, foe, or lover.

How-to:

Work on the three basics of good body language: the smile, eye contact, and the handshake. Smile at someone from the heart when you meet them. Look the person in the eye when you speak to them, or when they speak to you. Combine smiling and eye contact with a good, firm handshake. Always keep your body relaxed and posture confident. Observe the body language of others to gather important information. Is he engaged? Impatient? Defensive? You can tailor your response for a the outcome you want.

Perfecting the elevator pitch

In an attention-deficit world, it is imperative to be concise yet memorable in our communication. The elevator pitch is a very short presentation of yourself or your proposal to someone who has no more than 30 seconds. Whether you’re presenting a business idea or at a speed dating session, this is one communication skill that will set you apart from the pack. Want to know more? Read on. (See how this paragraph is a demonstration of an elevator pitch?)

How-to:

Distill what your proposition in one sentence. It’s not always easy, but put in the work to come up with something simple and memorable. For example, Apple in a sentence could be “Technology that’s beautiful and intuitive.” Lord Of The Rings is “Loyal friends help hobbit become the unlikely hero to save Middle-Earth.” Give the person a reason to care. Show him how your proposal can benefit him in a way nothing else can. Then end with a clear call-to-action — this is what you want him to do after your pitch. Remember, be confident. You have a good proposal and you know it. When you’re confident, they will know it too.

Inspiring others with an idea

An idea is one of the most powerful and contagious elements of any communication. Having an idea with someone can create a common bond built on the power of shared imagination.

How-to:

Share a unique thought that can energize others, and hold it lightly. Everyone has ideas, but the ones worth sharing are those that are refreshing and inspiring. When you have one of these gems, don’t make the mistake of keeping it too close to your chest. Share it with others, be open suggestions to improve or interpret it. Asking for input to reshape the idea together builds a trust that can go a long way.

Acknowledging others

Acknowledging someone is the act of letting the person know something great about him or her. It is different from complimenting or flattering. The difference lies in the intent. You’re not trying to benefit from the gesture, but to sincerely shine a spotlight on others. They will feel the difference.

How-to:

Look for the good in someone, and tell her how great it is. When we compliment someone, we can be indirectly flattering ourselves. When you say, “I really like your report”, is it about her report, or is it about you and your approval of her report? Try saying, “Nice report, you have some great insights” Now it’s all about her, not you. You can also acknowledge something in a person that few people would even notice, like how an assistant’s handouts are always perfectly stapled because she takes pride in being meticulous. The best communication lies in its subtlety.

Confident public speaking

Public speaking is one of the biggest all-time fears people have. Yet with its ability to influence and inspire many individuals at once, it’s one of the most powerful forms of communication. Think of the best orators in history — Winston Churchill, Martin Luther King, or Steve Jobs — they communicate simply and persuasively, making us feel better off after listening to them. Be it a work presentation or a charity drive, you will be put in situations where you have to speak to a group.

How-to:

Think of the one person in the audience who needs to hear your message. As with most communication skills and strategies, focus on the recipient of your message. Believe you have something important to share, and someone in the crowd will benefit from it. Don’t aim to be perfect in your delivery, aim to be passionate about your message. When you’re speaking from a place of authenticity and vulnerability, people will listen to you and root for you. Keep practicing.

Projecting leadership

The best leaders are masters of the craft of communication. How do you think they become leaders? We only follow those we trust. It helps that they are competent as well. Guess what, being a strong communicator does wonders on both counts.

How-to:

Aim to be a leader who serves his followers. Leaders have a separate manual for communication. This would include speaking clearly and confidently, acting with authenticity, listening to feedback, and many other skills. Underpinning these is a genuine intent to put his followers first, serving their interests above his own. Communication rooted in servant leadership not only makes a leader more empathetic, it makes followers more loyal. This deepens their relationship beyond one that’s based on rank and seniority.

Building authenticity and trust

While there are many best practices in communication, here is one rule above all: be true to yourself. People will only trust you if they feel you’re a real person who stands for something worthwhile. Without trust, there can be no quality communication and connection.

How-to:

Keep it real. Never try to be someone you’re not. Don’t “fake it” if you haven’t made it, work on getting better until “it” becomes you. You’ll earn people’s respect that way. Be honest with your shortcomings, share inspiring personal experiences, hold yourself accountable to your words, and speak with conviction. Communicating with others will come naturally to you.

[THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN BY LIFEHACK]

[galaxys-child]

Does Sherlock really trust Molly? Are they friends?

Yes, right. Contrary to the opinion of the majority (maybe all) of the Sherlock fans I really do ask myself that question. And I will explain it in detail (be warned, it’s a long text):

I have my issues with the whole “Sherlock trusts Molly.”-thing. It’s true that Sherlock appreciates Molly’s intelligence and expertise and that he doesn’t seem to trust anyone else at Bart’s to support him with HIS WORK  - but this is something he seems to do since the first two seasons:

Season One

In ASIP, Sherlock goes to the morgue to do experiments on a corpse (you can interpret that he does trust Molly’s competence to provide him with a suitable test object)

In TBB, Sherlock asks Molly if he can have a look at the corpses of Eddy van Coon and Brian Lukis and manipulates her into doing it (it is implied that Molly has a higher position at Bart’s and that she is in charge of everything in the morgue (”I already sent away the reports”) so Sherlock has to go to her to get things done; but maybe he also goes to her because she is “less irritating and less stupid” than the rest of the people he has to work with - it’s true that Sherlock never insults Molly’s intelligence!)

In TGG, Sherlock uses the equipment in the lab to do a pollen analysis for his investigation. He seems to be familiar with everything and it is implied he’s often there (again, because he trusts Molly to provide him with everything he needs and because he trusts Molly’s expertise)

Also: it is clear that Sherlock gets body parts from Molly to do experiments (either

he manipulates her / fakeflirts with her into doing it  

he steals them from her  

he just asks her and explains her why he needs the body parts and what experiments he intends to do) 

 - for me, it’s the first scenario (the last scenario would be the right one, imo)

Season Two

In ASIB, It is stated by Mycroft that the morgue is “Sherlock’s home away from home” implying that he’s often there to do work and of course there is Molly always happy to help him and to provide him with everything he needs (again it is implied that Sherlock trusts her expertise)

In the same episode, we see Sherlock x-raying Irene’s phone (again: Sherlock goes to Bart’s - where Molly is - to investigate, he trusts her!)

In TRF, Molly’s about to go on a lunch date, then Sherlock comes: “No, Molly, cancel it, I need your help.” then he pushes her body around and guides her back to the lab -  although he acts very rude in that scene it is evident that he doesn’t want to work with anyone else at Bart’s (He could, but he’s so eager to work with Molly that he wants her to cancel her date because he trusts her? Appreciates her scientific inputs? Likes her?)

And of course, we have THE SCENE where Sherlock comes to Molly and asks her to fake his death (implied). He is at his lowest, vulnerable, scared, Moriarty is about to destroy him completely and he needs to do something about it. He goes to Molly, tells her that he needs her help and  tells her that she “does count” and that he’s “always trusted” her. A beautiful, heartfelt scene.

BUT: at the same it is heavily implied that he doesn’t really trust her because he doesn’t let her in in anything 90% of the time.

Season One

In ASIP, Sherlock doesn’t tell her why exactly he has to smash a riding crop on a corpse; he only says: “A man’s alibi depends on it” but he doesn’t go into details

In TBB, Sherlock doesn’t tell her why he needs to see the corpses of Eddy van Coon and Brian Lukis. Why does he manipulate her anyway? (“Your hair looks nice! Can you wheel the corpses out for me?”) It is my personal belief that if he had been honest with her from the start (“I have a theory. Eddy van Coon and Brian Lukis were perhaps members of the Black Lotus - a criminal organization in Asia - I need to check if they have lotus tattoos on their feet”) Molly would have let him take a look at the corpses anyway. But he doesn’t. Why is that?

You can interpret these two scenes as follows:

Sherlock’s a jerk (and sexist?), just uses Molly and doesn’t think of her as an equal (”Why should I involve you in my investigations? You wouldn’t understand it anyway. Don’t ask questions, Molly, just give me bodyparts and provide the equipment for my experiments!”)

He secretly likes her and needed an excuse to flirt with her (this is something I’ve read in fanfictions)

He tells her the details of his investigations offscreen.

The last point is implied by a scene in TGG where

Molly comes into the lab asking Sherlock if he’s got anything new and he answers enthusiastically “Yes!” (Molly wouldn’t ask him if he did find something if she doesn’t know something - at least, a little bit - about his current case; maybe, this time, Sherlock did involve her in his investigations)

Season Two

In ASIB, Sherlock doesn’t tell her anything about the Adler case (that may be because it’s classfified as “top secret”), Sherlock monosyllabically answers Molly’s questions (”Is that a phone?” “Yes.” “And you’re x-raying it?” “Yes.” “Who’s is it?” “A woman’s.” “Your girlfriend’s?”) but he doesn’t go into details. He can easily say “It’s for a case. Sorry, I cannot tell you. It’s top secret. And no, the woman this phone belongs to is not my girlfriend.” -  But he doesn’t. Worse: He does leave her completely in the dark and ignores her. (That’s pretty strange because earlier he did apologize for his rude behavior towards her at the christmas party and seemed genuinely sorry. Okay, to be fair: Sherlock’s portrayed as oblivious to his rudeness and only realizes that he’s rude when he’s called out on it; Molly doesn’t call him out in that scene, so Sherlock just continues to be...well, Sherlock)

The scene with the fake Adler corpse is similar, only now it’s Mycroft who doesn’t tell Molly anything. She asks: “How could Sherlock recognize her from not her face?” and Mycroft just gives her an apologetic look and a smile Molly can interpret for herself

So, what can we interpret from these scenes?

Sherlock continues to be a jerk, doesn’t feel the need to involve Molly in anything he does (I repeat: He can just say “Sorry, I cannot tell you. I currently work on a case for the government. It’s top secret.” and leave it at that. Molly would understand) But nope, she’s just to be ignored.

He tells her offscreen (I doubt that.) 

The only scenes in Season Two where Sherlock seems to let Molly in is in TRF except he doesn’t, not really:

When doing chemical analyses he talks to John, not to Molly (”Oil, John, the oil in the kidnapper’s footprint. It’ll lead us to Moriarty.”) Molly’s right right there carrying some books and Sherlock doesn’t look at her, doesn’t include her in his explanations. (He doesn’t say: “John! Molly! It’s the oil!”) Nope, he acts as if she isn’t there, only focuses on his investigation and talks to John about his results. Molly only gets to know something because she’s just lucky to be there with them in this scene.

Interpretation:

Sherlock’s a jerk (more likely, he even calls her “John” in that scene)

Sherlock did already tell Molly that “It’s the oil!” offscreen when John was at the toilet. Now, John’s back and Sherlock tells him what Molly already knows.

Then we have THE SCENE where Sherlock asks Molly to help him fake his death. Finally, he lets her in! But: Not really:

It is just implied - and happens offscreen (of course it’s done for drama, if Moffat and Gatiss would have written a scene where Sherlock tells Molly everything about his plan it’ll be too simple and would take away the tension, so, yes, that’s absolutely understandable) BUT: It is implied! At least! And I, as the viewer, like it that Molly finally gets the attention she deserves!

So that’s it. Molly helped Sherlock fake his death? Two years did pass until I would get answers to the questions:

What was her exact role in faking his death?

In what way does such an act change their relationship?

So, let’s take a look at Season Three:

The question “How did he do it?” is not really answered in TEH. But hey, we get to know that Molly did play an essential part and she kept quiet about it for two years! Oh, man, what a woman! She must be very strong, a good actress and is definitely very smart! She can compete with Irene Adler! (I do not mean that sarcastically.)

And how does Sherlock thank her?

He invites her over to solve crimes with him for one day because

Interpretation One: Sherlock’s a jerk.

John is currently out of the picture (Sherlock even says it to Lestrade. They talk about it in the presence of Molly! Loud enough to hear each other, but quiet enough that Molly can’t hear it! Then Sherlock accidentally calls her ”John”!)

Later he tells her he invited her to thank her - poor Molly Hooper doesn’t know it’s a lie and Sherlock just wanted to try her as a John substitute

he tells her that she’s “the one person that mattered the most.” - implying that he meant her role in faking his death (he used the past tense!) but she “can’t do it anymore” (because he will find a way to make John forgive him and then he can solve crimes with him again!)

“You did help me fake my death. I show may gratitude by inviting you to solve crimes with me - and because I have no partner at the moment and I am used to have a partner!. That way I can kill two birds with one stone! Isn’t that cool? So, thank you for your help! But you cannot be my partner anymore, can you? So, it has to be a one-time-thing. You have outlived your usefulness and I can go back to the life with John I had two years ago. Unfortuneately, John doesn’t live with me anymore and has a girlfriend...”

Interpretation Two: Sherlock’s a good guy to her.

Sherlock wants Molly as a partner for a change because he does like her and figures she would like that (he knows she’s intelligent, resourceful, trustworthy etc., all in all a great woman!)

Also he wants to make it up to her. Since she helped him fake his death he sees true value in her and regrets how he treated her in the past. He wants to enjoy a day with her while doing his favourite thing: solving crimes! (And he does enjoy her company! Look at their faces while being in the train guy’s house! The smiles they give each other while cracking jokes.)

Sherlock is thankful for everything she did for him and tells her that. But at the same time he realizes that Molly cannot solve crimes with him anymore

because she has her own life, a full-time job at the morgue and a boyfriend! Sherlock did see the ring on her finger but decided not to say anything; he decided to ignore it and did just focus on their day together. (Strangely, John has a full-time Job and a girlfriend, too, but that doesn’t prevent Sherlock from wanting to solve crimes with him.) Okay, with Molly, it’s a bit different because she has a crush on him and Sherlock figures it’s better to be as far away from her as possible (because it’s not good for a woman who has a crush on him to spent time with him when she’s with someone else, except: he’s aware that they will run into each other at Bart’s but this is different   because this is work and what they did that day wasn’t...oh, wait...). He tells her that she deserves to be happy. And they both part. 

Or maybe he is secretly in love with her (implied by the sad smile he gave her before he kisses her on the cheek) and cannot bear to be around her while knowing she is with someone else (except: he doesn’t really love her because he doesn’t make an attempt to be with her after her break-up with Tom....) 

Or maybe he does love her but knows that he isn’t good for her. He wants her to be happy and believes that she wouldn’t be happy with him. 

Or Sherlock says to Molly “you cannot do this anymore” because of John. Solving crimes was always a thing between him and John. They were partners for years! John wouldn’t like it if Sherlock has a new partner (except: John did make it clear earlier that he doesn’t want to do the work with Sherlock anymore and it’s not clear for Sherlock whether John will ever forgive him for what he did) Still: Sherlock doesn’t want to “betray” John (except: he does with Mary four episodes later. Sherlock even states that Mary’s better than John!)  

Anyway, Sherlock tells Molly that she’s “the one person that mattered the most” (and somehow the majority of the fans ignore that he did use the past tense and just use the present tense “matters” when quoting Sherlock and take it as evidence that Molly is, indeed, the most important person to him!)

Okay, I, personally, tend to the first interpretation. Altough I do believe that Sherlock wanted to make it up to her and that saying “thank you” was, at least in part, genuine.

Let’s take a look at the other episodes:

In TSOT, Sherlock goes to Molly and asks her to do some calculations for the stag night. He trusts her to do that! He knows she’s intelligent and competent (Nothing new because we’ve seen it multiple times in the first two seasons.)

But (what I really like about that scene): Sherlock involves her! He tells her what he’s up to! Into her face! This is something new! Although he did try to manipulate her again like in TBB (”You look...well.”)

Unfortunately, it’s the only time where we see Sherlock involving Molly in things ONSCREEN:

In HLV, Sherlock tells everyone he did drugs because it was “for a case!”  - as always. But he doesn’t go into details. We do not see him telling Molly anything. To be fair: the room is full of people (also a boy, he doesn’t really know) and he doesn’t want to lay out his plans in front of them all. That’s why he just says “It’s for a case” and leaves. (I remind you: He could have said: “I cannot tell you about the case. My client explicitly said I should keep it a secret.”- but he doesn’t.) Later, he tells John. Whether he did tell Molly about Magnussen or not is open for interpretation.

Later it is stated that Sherlock uses Molly’s spare room as a bolthole because

this spare room is really inspiring and sometimes he can think there even better than at home 

this spare room has a big bare wall and he needs to put all his notes there (when he fakes a relationship with Janine the wall in his living room which is usually littered with notes is completely empty, maybe that’s why he doesn’t want Janine to know that he’s after her boss,   Magnussen - I’ve read about that theory somewhere on tumblr) 

he just needs to escape from the world and considering how rude he treated Molly in the previous seasons no one would expect them to be close, her spare room would be the last place they’d expect him to be

Sherlock and Molly have a secret relationship (she does talk about a spare BEDROOM afterall) 

I personally believe it’s the second point.

So, yeah. Sherlock uses Molly’s house as a bolthole. But does he tell her about his fake relationship with Janine?

Later, Molly only appears in Sherlock’s mind palace and it is shown - once again - that he relies on her expertise and greatly appreciates her knowledge (nothing new)

So, Sherlock trusts Molly’s judgement (that’s perfectly clear) but does he trust her with secrets?

I know that Sherlock did trust Molly with faking his death. She is a pathologist! She works with corpses. So, if I want to fake my death I would want to have a trustworthy pathologist, too, who would sign my death certificate (Lestrade says that Molly did sign Sherlock’s death certificate in the beginning of TEH). But the whole faking-death-thing was all part of a plan. Molly was part of the plan. Of course, Sherlock did trust her with this matter!

BUT: does Sherlock trusts Molly with things which have nothing to do with her?

It is not shown (not even implied) that Sherlock

tells Molly about the Magnussen case

tells her that he faked a relationship with Mary’s bridesmaid

tells her about Mary’s secret

tells her that Mary’s shot him

tells her that he shot a man to protect John and Mary

tells her good-bye when he is about to leave for a suicide mission (as a punishment for shooting someone)

tells her that he did do drugs on the plane - again etc. etc.

Interpretation:

He tells her all that offscreen (That’s open for interpretain for it’s neither implied nor denied in the show).  And, personally, I hope that Sherlock did tell her something.

He doesn’t tell her. If I were Molly and if I would ever find out I would be pissed - and sad. I would question the friendship and maybe move away (temporarily) to get some distance.

Season Four

Sherlock’s back. He did kill someone but now he’s off the hook. There is a short scene in the beginning where the Magnussen story line continues. But after that? Nothing! Magnussen isn’t even mentioned again! BAM! Let’s go “back to the roots” as if the whole Magnussen business never happened and solve crimes again!

In TST, we see Molly-and-Sherlock-interactions during the christening scene and in the end when she gives him John’s letter. it is not clear if she does know about the whole Magnussen thing. To be fair: it’s not clear if Mrs. Hudson knows, either. Only Lestrade seems to know something (John outright says to Lestrade in the TLD that Sherlock “shot a man in his face”) And what about the other secrets? Mary’s an assassin. She shot Sherlock. Sherlock was about to leave England forever etc. Does Lestrade know something about that, too? And if Lestrade knows do Molly and Mrs. Hudson know? And if they do how did they react? Nope, doesn’t matter. The show’s about John and Sherlock (and Mary because she’s John’s wife) Really I would have preferred a scene with Lestrade’s, Mrs. Hudson’s and Molly’s reactions to all the things which happened during the previous episodes instead of endless filler scenes where Mary travels through the world and rolls dices.

So okay, this episode didn’t answer these questions...

John and Mary make Molly and Mrs. Hudson the godparents of their baby. There’re two

Interpretations:

Not only Sherlock but also Mary and John are jerks. They didn’t tell Mrs. Hudson and Molly about all their secrets and everything what happened during last december. Mrs. Hudson and Molly are good enough to be godparents for their child (or more on-demand-babysitters who don’t need to be paid and they can ring them in the middle of the night so that they’re free to go on cases together with Sherlock) But they’re not good enough to be trusted with secrets! There is zero interaction between Mrs. Hudson and Mary or Molly and Mary or Molly and John or Mrs. Hudson and John prior which would lead to the implication that they’re close enough to be friends!

Mrs. Hudson and Molly DO know about the multiple secrets and they’re very close to Mary and John but all the interactions do happen offscreen like Mary’s interactions with Molly’s cat Mary happily took care of when  Molly went to a conference in Edinburgh or like John’s interactions with Mrs. Hudson’s rubber tree John happily watered when Mrs. Hudson was in Malta with her sister. They’re friends! And that’s why John and Mary did ask them to be godparents.

Personally, I hope it’s the second interpretation. But, sadly, it could be the first because

Your husband should be the closest person to you, right? But Mary didn’t even trust her OWN HUSBAND with her former job. John and Sherlock only did find out by accident. Do you really believe she wants Molly and Mrs. Hudson to know that she’s an assassin? And that she shot Sherlock? John refused to talk to her for months! Imagine Molly’s reaction!

John isn’t even close enough to Mrs. Hudson to know when she’s on holiday!

And do you know what? What does Sherlock do after Moriarty’s face was shown on every TV Screen of the country?

There’re three answers you can choose from (but only one is correct):

Sherlock immediately calls Molly because he knows that she might be scared. He reassures her that Moriarty’s dead and that everything will be okay. (It is implied in Sherlock’s dream sequence in TAB that Moriarty wasn’t on Molly’s dissecting table, hey, if he had been Sherlock would know for sure that Moriarty’d been dead and TAB would have never happened, but: Moriarty somehow never was in Molly’s morgue)

Sherlock still arranges for Molly to be supervised by Mycroft (because - if not Moriarty - someone else could threaten her life just because she’s close to Sherlock, that did happen before with Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and John. Molly was never threaten yet but if I were Sherlock I would play safe)

Sherlock goes to Baker Street to solve minor cases and doesn’t waste a single thought on her.

Yes, you’re right. The third option is shown.

That could mean:

Sherlock’s a jerk. So are John and Mary. Not only to Molly but also to Mrs. Hudson whom they never talk to either after the whole Magnussen business.

Everything happened offscreen because it is not important enough to show even one single 1-minute-scene where Sherlock, John and Mary do reassure Molly and Mrs. Hudson (and Lestrade): “Everything’s okay. Moriarty’s really dead. You can be certain of that. And you’re all supervised by Mycroft anyway.” Only John and Sherlock are important (and to an extent Mary). Fuck the the other characters! Why do you even write scenes with them, Moftiss? Why don’t you just make a show where only John and Sherlock appear if it’s only about them?

Okay, let’s go on:

In TLD, we have the ambulance scene: We learn that Sherlock instructed Molly weeks ago: “Come to this address with an ambulance - and bring my coat!” And Molly? She does it. She’s surprised to see John there, too. And she has no idea why she’s there. She says Sherlock’s just asked her to come two weeks ago.

Interpretation:

Sherlock’s a jerk. He didn’t tell her anything (it’s the same like in the first two seasons) He uses her. She’s a pawn in his game! Worst thing: Molly lets him do it.

Sherlock actually did tell her something and Molly’s just acting in front of John.

We do not know what happened IN the ambulance. Maybe Sherlock did tell her about his plans. It’s neither implied nor denied. You can interpret that they had a conversation by the exchange of looks:

But it’s not clear whether Sherlock gave that look to her. He can also look at John. We see John’s face in the previous shot:

And do you know what? Molly’s ignored - again:

John’s got out of the car, talks to Sherlock and Sherlock responds to him. That’s it: they talk, Molly’s standing there and both of the men act as if she isn’t there. Culverton Smith shows up and Sherlock’s like “Come on, John. We have a case!” and they both leave without looking back (okay, maybe Sherlock does look at Molly at the end but that’s open to interpretation)

Then we have THE SCENE:

I mean the scene where Molly was forced to say “I love you” to Sherlock.

So, what can we interpret from their relationship. I do not mean “Is he really in love with her? Are they a couple now?” I only focus on their “friendship” (Yes, I put “friendship” in quotes on purpose) Right before they said “I love you” to each other?

Sherlock calls Molly and tells her “I want you to do something very easy for me.” - Look at the word choice. It’s not a question (”Molly, can you help me? I need you. Would you...?”); No, he says “I want you to do...” like a boss would treat his employees (”Do this! Do that! Sort the documents in the archive! The tax return shall be on my desk at noon!”) - the worst thing? It seems to be a completely normal thing between them (same in TLD, btw: “Just tell me when to cough! I hope you brought my coat!” etc.)

“Do not ask why.” - maybe Sherlock does tell her that because Molly did question his strange requests recently and doesn’t want to be left in the dark anymore like in the first two seasons - especially when it’s not always about a case but more about Sherlock’s antics. And rightfully so.

“Is this one of your stupid games?” she asks annoyed. After Sherlock reassures her "No, it’s not.” she’s quick in saying: “Okay. What do you want?”

Okay, I have to pause here. Just let it sink in: Sherlock is a man who

drugs people against their wills

lies multiple times

does things behind his friends’ back - things they won’t be happy about (taking drugs, for example)

And then he tells Molly: “Oh, no. It’s not a game.” and Molly’s like “Okay. I trust you. What do you want?”

Okay, you can interpret that Molly’s smart and can see through Sherlock’s bullshit (this is implied by some scenes and stated by Moffat and Gatiss). Hm...maybe

“Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making fun of me?”

Molly doesn’t even consider the idea that Sherlock might have a serious reason for his request. No, she jumps right to the conclusion that Sherlock must be making fun of her.

“I am not an experiment, Sherlock.”

She even thinks Sherlock would be cruel enough to use her as a test object in one of his his experiments (Well, I cannot blame Molly: He did drug John for experimental purposes. And he might have used her as a pawn in TLD.)

God, Sherlock. What did you do to Molly that she has such a low opinion of you?

“No, you’re not an experiment. You’re my friend. We’re friends.”

Hm, yeah. Whatever you think, Sherlock.

I just put that question here: Do you think Molly would’ve reacted that way in the ILY-Scene if Sherlock

did tell her about Magnussen, about his exile, about Mary, about EVERYTHING

did tell her “thank you for bringing the ambulance. I do not know what to do without you”

did genuinely support her as a friend

did tell her that she will be supervised by Mycroft and that he will protect her at all cost

?

I doubt it.

I believe she would have said “I love you” right away if he did do all the things I mentioned above (because she would have known for sure that Sherlock had a good reason and would never play with her) instead of being fed up with him.

So, yeah. Does Molly know all the things that happened between John, Mary, Sherlock and Magnussen? Did Sherlock trust her with such secrets?

Does he support Molly? Does he treat her as a friend (like he did treat Mary)? Would he ever say about Molly “She’s my friend. She’s under my protection” and then go and do everything he can to protect her?

If Molly would have a case for him - maybe something below a 3 - would he help her with it or would he dissmiss it as boring? Would he treat her any different from his usual clients?

So, yeah? Are they really friends?

I wanted an answer to these questions - more than the answer to the question: “Will they be romantically together in the end?” 

Okay, the question “Would he protect her?” is answered. Sherlock  definitely and under no circumstances wants Molly to be dead. So, this is something. Sherlock also seems to be really shocked that Molly’s the target as if he never considered it that she could be in danger.

But the other questions? What do you think? I’ll be happy if you tell me your thoughts. Thank you for reading this long text (it did become longer and longer but I had fun writing it) XD! And, please, ignore my errors. XD!

[entrapstar]

🚨 Warning:🚨 

This is Part Two of a dual post that focuses on unpopular Red Queen opinions of mine. The first part (linked at the bottom) dealt with Cal criticism, and this portion will deal with my views on Maven Calore. I would like to warn you that this is fairly long, however, I believe that both posts are worth a read if you have time to spare. 

★*―――――*★*―――――*★*―――――*★ 

I would like to blow the minds of approximately 90% of the fandom by creating a post that APPRECIATES Maven Calore (Fandom: MAVEN WHO?!?!? I DON’T KNOW HER). This is also intended for fellow RQ enthusiasts that appreciate his complexity and his compelling nature. 

Of course, you’re likely wondering why I have decided not to list MAVEN’S flaws. You might be thinking: “He’s the antagonist, and he has done so many horrible things.”

I have no doubt that Maven is a villain and that several of his actions are horrific in nature. I do not in anyway condone the full extent of what he has done nor do I advocate them whatsoever. 

Still, I have come to find that he is so reviled and and denounced that I have trouble finding posts that convey his strengths. Have you ever come across a post that actually covers the full multitude of what he has done for Norta? He actually has various accomplishments that are either ignored or taken very lightly. 

As such, in this post i will be appreciating Maven and the beneficial qualities he possesses. Maven Calore has performed a fair amount of beneficial acts, acts that are difficult to portray as malevolent. Of course, he has done committed lots of immoral atrocities, and the beneficial acts could not potentially outweigh them. However, I do hope to convey his strengths. 

The first point I would like to cover is his biggest accomplishment as King of Norta. Maven managed to end a war that had been raging on for CENTURIES, a war that would probably have gone on had Cal reigned instead. He has accomplished something none of his predecessors were able to do, which is really a huge deal. The idea of such an unlikely alliance has deterred so many before him, yet he has been able to do so for the betterment of Norta.  Not to mention that he hadn’t been raised to be king, and yet he is still able to achieve so much for his kingdom and handle his position so well. 

Maven has constantly been devalued all of his life, not accepted by Silvers who viewed him as weak or pathetic. Even his own father looked down on him, unable to understand his qualities. Due to this, I believe Maven can better understand how it might feel to be a Red more than Cal will ever be able to. Of course, I acknowledge that Maven will never be able fully comprehend the daily struggles of a Red, since his life has entailed of living lavishly in a palace. However, he does understand what it feels like to be shadowed by someone who is perceived to be superior all your life.  He has always been looked down upon, unfairly treated, and seen as inadequate when compared to his brother. He actually has been a great king politically, handling the court and his public image intelligently despite not being conceived to inherit the crown. He has been able to manipulate his father’s policies, relieving Reds of strict curfews and harsh punishments, which goes to show that he could be a beneficial king for both the Silvers and the Reds. 

He has also raised the conscription age that had been lowered, sparing many unequipped children from the horror of war. He has been able to maintain the kingdom despite his constant struggle with the Scarlet Guard, raising morale with his alliance. It’s undeniable that he is tending to his duties, that he is attempting to serve his role while under constant pressure from a nation that is threatened with war and uprising. I don’t believe that Maven is excited about upholding a system that Thomas had died in vain for. Unfortunately, affluent Silvers are governed by tradition, and I imagine that he is experiencing pressure to please the Silvers while also retaining the status quo for Reds. Maintaining such a precarious balance is not easy while you’re at the very edge of a rebellion.

Another fact that should be noted about Maven is the amount of tragedy that he has undergone. As revealed in King’s Cage, his mother had controlled him when he was just an infant. I think it is fair to assume that she is behind his loathing of Cal. He mentions that he had once cared for his father and Cal as any child should, only to be raised to despise them. His upbringing is a traumatizing experience that no one should ever experience. Elara robbed him of his childhood, his love for his family, even his dreams. She took away anything that she thought would make him vulnerable- anything that would make him susceptible to weakness. He was abused and tortured by his mother, someone who should have protected him from harm. Yet she only inflicted harm upon him. She removed pieces of him she believed were ”unnecessary”, discarded fragments she thought made him weak. In short, he had become a vessel for his mother’s ambitions. He is not his own being in entirety, he is not his own individual. Any large amount of individuality he might have had has been discarded by Elara. It is likely that he might believe it is just too late for him to pursue a different life. He was raised to strive for the crown, and without it, he might feel he has lost his purpose.

Furthermore, he lost the only beacon of hope he had in his life. He lost Thomas when he killed him. A mere incident, an accident on his part made him lose his friend AND lover. I don’t imagine Maven ever being befriended in genuine terms. Thomas was likely the only one who had been a real friend to him, the first one who did not care for titles. Thomas was probably the only one who didn’t compare him to his brother. Also, Thomas had valued him, had cared for him, and had provided actual affection, something that he’d been missing for his entire life. Maven is someone who has been deprived when it came to love, someone who is starving for acceptance. Thomas had treasured him more than his own father did, treating him with more affection than his mother would ever be able to, only to die in the hands of Maven. Can you even imagine how much guilt had consumed Maven? How he had felt, having been the reason the only person who sincerely cared about him had died? Maven could only seek his mother for any meager comfort she would provide. He could only recount the incident to his mother without judgement. His mother had thought of his distressed state as weakness, had attempted to dispose his love for Thomas, only to find that it was futile. It’s a miracle that he still even possesses a fragment that is capable of loving after such an experience. 

I don’t believe Maven has ever really had the chance to be in any healthy, loving relationships, having been surrounded with his father and mother who seemingly led a loveless marriage borne out of political interests. It’s possible that Elara had blamed Maven for her shortcomings, or that Maven felt the disparity between his parents were because of him. Considering that most members of the court are engaged out of such political interests, they did not provide him much demonstration either, and so he also follows the same path. He has been betrothed three times; to Mare, Evangeline, and Iris. His involvement in any potential marriage has been due to political interests. As king, he had to be initially engaged to Evangeline, who had been formerly engaged to his brother. So I imagine that he would have been astonished to hear how Reds marry out of love when he was little. I believe his search for acceptance is the root cause of his obsession with Mare. In Red Queen, Mare comes to value him and care for him. After the events of Red Queen, Maven doesn’t want to believe that he’d broken the trust of one of the only people who’d ever cared about him, and so that’s possibly why he seeks her out and tries to win her over again. 

In conclusion, the whole purpose of this post is to encourage fans to approach the series with a different viewpoint. I hope that this might encourage all of us to be more accepting towards opinions we might not typically agree with. Remember that a fandom is only fun when it is a safe place for people to provide input and feel valued. 

(@vaveyard)

(Credits to @maveicen for editing both posts to make them sound so formal and amazing, and also providing some of the points) 

Part 1 II Part 2

[theycallme-tunathot]

Road to Ruin [Chapter 5] Jackson

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader Rating: Somewhere between R and NC-17 I suppose Synopsis: Reader and Jackson are trying to get back to the dorms, but the ride back doesn’t go as smoothly as either of them planned. Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoy this! Sorry for such a long wait but the last few weeks of the semester were killing me and I didn’t have the brain power to focus on writing. I hope this and the next chapter I’m working on will more than make up for the lack of updates. [BAMBAM IS IN THIS CHAPTER!] Also, credit for the gif is here.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

“They’re your friends.”

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

Y/N took my hand without any hesitation. It didn't take her long before she was clutching my forearm, pressing herself into my arm for comfort.

Now, as her best friend, I understood. She needed to know that she wouldn't get lost. I was familiar in a sea of faces that she'd probably never known or seen before tonight. She just needed the sense of trust that came with her best friend being there.

But as a guy, I couldn't help but notice the warmth of her chest engulfing my bare arm. With how plunging the neckline was on her dress, she didn't have many options as to where to push her chest into and that much I understood too. But that didn't mean I wasn't affected by it. I could even feel the curve of one of her breasts against my arm and I almost wanted to point it out.

But I didn't.

Because I'm a good guy...

...for the most part.

Once I reached the backyard, my eyes scanned the crowd until I found the guy I was looking for. Tugging Y/N along, I lifted my free hand to cup around my mouth.

"Yo JB!"

The second I called out, his head shot toward me. A wide smile, and a friendly nod were thrown in my direction before he said something to the group he was with. He looked to be wrapping up the conversation.

I threw a glance back at Y/N and grinned. "Let me ask if he's cool with driving us back."

"Are you sure he didn't drink?" she asked.

"We'll see when he gets over here," I shrugged.

JB was one of those friends I made within the first month of moving to Korea. He was somewhat hard to read and I got on his nerves easily. But like amazing cakes, with a little time in the oven, he found a way to like me. Despite all the times he said we couldn't be friends due to him training with the judo group and I with fencing, somehow we were close enough to dole out favors for one another when the time came to it.

Walking over, JB flashed another friendly smile as his eyes took in the scene. Assessing the situation his eyes looked over Y/N before settling back on me.

"You need my keys for an hour?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

I didn't have to look at my best friend to know she was confused. On any other night that would've been the request. JB would lend me his keys for an hour, I would lock me and some random girl in the backseat of his car and we would see where the hour took us. But tonight was not that night.

"Actually, was seeing when you were leaving," I replied.

"You know me, I'm always ready to leave," he said, dodging a drunk girl who stumbled her way through the backyard.

He was such an odd guy. For someone who loved his alone time, he came to most of the parties. Part of me believed it was because he was the father figure in the friend group. If he could help it, he would go to all the ragers if just to make sure his friends were taken care of and had a way back to the dorms if they decided to leave. But if he had a real choice without his conscience butting in, he'd probably be at home watching cat videos.

That or doing in-depth research on the lives of old cat men.

"Would it be a hassle to catch a ride back to the dorms with you?" I asked, giving him a look I hoped he could fully understand. I didn't want to have to ask him more than once and I especially didn't want to have to resort to asking Jinyoung if he could call a cab.  

"I would love nothing more than to leave, but the last time I saw BamBam, he looked about drunk enough to say something stupid to the wrong people," he said, the apologetic smile greeting me now. "I should probably stay and make sure he gets back to the dorms."

"You could just pile him into the car with us," I reasoned.

JB gave a long glance at Y/N and grinned. "What's the rush to get back to the dorms? It's not like you can get up to much when the guys live way on the other side of the building. She wouldn't make it past Jangki and you know that."

"I don't know that," I mumbled.

"You do. You're the reason I know that," he rebutted, bringing up the one time I tried to sneak a girl into my dorm. The punishment was severe that time.

Sighing deeply, I shrugged, "That's not all that important though. I'm not sleeping with my best friend."

JB looked confused for a millisecond before he took another long look at the oddly quiet girl slightly behind me.

"Whoa, wait, don't tell me that's..."

"It's--"

"Y/N?"

Her grip immediately tightened on my arm as JB took a step closer, obviously trying to see if he was right. And just like before, I didn't need to turn around to know that she rolled her eyes before she replied.

"I swear, you smear expensive foundation on your face and somehow everyone pretends they can't recognize you," she shot back, obviously directed toward the taller male in front of us.

At Y/N's statement, JB sheepishly smiled before tearing his eyes away. "I didn't mean it to sound like...I was just surprised?" When an awkward pause went on too long, JB seemed too desperate to fill it. "I've never seen you dressed like that."

I looked behind me to see Y/N awkwardly nodding, pulling my arm further into her chest, something I doubted was possible only moments before. I couldn't be positive why she was acting so shy considering the amount of bravado she has in general, but I knew this party was a factor in her weird behavior.

"So, what do you say? You drive us home, with or without BamBam that's definitely your call, and I owe you one," I said, trying to push the conversation along.  

JB looked between Y/N and me, obviously trying to weigh his options and figure out if what he wanted to do was in line with what he believed he needed to do.

"Meet me out in the front yard in fifteen minutes."

Nearly twenty minutes later, we were piled into a car, JB in the driver's seat, Yugyeom sitting in the front seat. Squished into the backseat was Y/N who took to looking out of the window and ignoring everyone currently in the car, BamBam who drunkenly giggled in the middle and me on the far side. No matter how much I insisted Y/N sit in the middle, BamBam wanted to sit there.  

And now, it was just awkward in the car.

"Noona," BamBam called, his head rolling to the Y/N's side.

She didn't respond, looking out of the window. When BamBam noticed, he whined more. "Noona."

More silence filled the car and it was becoming increasingly awkward.

"Noona!" BamBam called, stomping his foot atop my own. It earned him a sharp jab to the ribs and he groaned. "Noona!"

Blinking slowly, Y/N finally turned to look at the younger guy beside her. For a moment, I wondered if she was going to say something, anything really. But instead she stared at him for a couple of beats before she looked away.

"Oh my god," BamBam mumbled. "You kind of look like this girl from the training facility."

I could literally hear Y/N's blood simmering.

"I mean, you have a similar face, but...you can't be her."

I watched as Yugyeom turned his head slightly, asking his friend politely to drink the water he gave him when they first entered the car. But BamBam was clearly intoxicated and on a mission to air his own thoughts.

"Why not?" JB asked. His voice was filled with genuine curiosity. And while I knew JB didn't mean anything negative by it and BamBam was too drunk to comprehend what he was doing, I was getting more uncomfortable by the second.

BamBam gave a shrug, "She doesn't ever leave the compound does she?"

I couldn't stare at anyone in the car at the moment. In that particular second, I wondered what it would take to wish to be anywhere but here and transported there. I couldn't be sure how embarrassed Y/N was at this situation, but I was sure I felt embarrassed enough for the both of us.

"Sure she does," Yugyeom countered softly.

BamBam snorted, "Please, going to see your parents for the night is not considered leaving the compound. But this girl right here--" he attempted to point straight at Y/N but was instead pointing at the window frame in the door, "you look vaguely like her, I'll give it to you. But to your credit, she isn't quite as sexy as you are."

"Bam," JB spoke up, his voice laced with warning.  

At the same time, Yugyeom sighed exasperatedly. I could even hear myself wincing at BamBam's choice of words. The only person in the car who remained remotely quiet was Y/N. But I didn't dare tear my eyes away from JB's headrest.

"When has Y/N ever worn a dress? JB, have you ever seen her wear one?" BamBam asked, obviously wanting someone to justify his line of thought.

Instead, JB remained silent and Yugyeom shifted in his seat. I chanced a peak at BamBam and he looked drunker than I remembered.

"BamBam-ah, you might want to just try to sleep while we drive back to the dorm," I mumbled, resting my forehead against the back of JB's headrest.

BamBam made an obnoxious sound with his mouth before he replied. "Joke's on you, I'm not even tired. Jackson, I know Y/N is your friend, but you have to admit, she never tries."

"What?" I asked, my voice sharper than I initially intended. I understood BamBam would've never said anything like this if he were sober, but that meant nothing when I felt the need to defend Y/N.

"Please shut up," Yugyeom quietly pled from the passenger seat.

"Look at what she wears every day. Sweatpants? Who owns that many sweatpants besides Y/N? Not to mention she never wears makeup," BamBam listed.

"She doesn't need it though," I pointed out. "Not everyone wants to appear three skin tones lighter than they actually are."

BamBam snorted and laughed loudly, his hand slapping against my shoulder hard. "And she's always working out."

"All of us are always working out; we're athletes," I pointed out again. "She's top of the women's sabre class for a reason."

"I'm just saying if she put a little effort in her look like this girl over here, she might've snagged a guy by now."

My eyes cut to my right. I looked beyond BamBam to see Y/N. The light from street lamps that we passed illuminated her face just enough for me to see her jaw clenching and unclenching. She was visibly upset with this conversation and was ready for it to be over.

But we had another thirty minutes to go on this drive and BamBam seemed interested in continuing.

"Oh, I almost forgot this part too. Jackson has to be her only friend huh?"

"BamBam, you should shut up," JB warned again from the front seat.

Of course, the drunken idiot ignored his friend and continued on. "I mean, you're literally the only person she hangs out with Jackson."

I didn't respond to that because I didn't know how. Saying that she hung out with Youngjae wouldn't really prove any counter point I wanted to make.

Before any of us could say much of anything, BamBam included, there was a soft voice that cut through the tension.

"Pull over."

JB didn't respond. And perhaps he found a way to tune out the current conversation and intoxicated BamBam. Moments passed as the whole car waited to see if JB would comply.

"Pull over," Y/N repeated, the volume of her voice rising slightly.

JB continued to ignore her or still hadn't heard.

"JB pull the car over," Y/N said, her voice hoarse as she looked away from the window.

Finally JB threw a glance through the rearview mirror before looking ahead again. "We're nearly there."

"Pull over."

"We're in the middle of nowhere on the highway--"

"Pull over."

"Y/N, it's 2 in the morni--"

"JB--"

"Y/N," I tried to step in.

"Pull this fucking car over!" Y/N shouted, kicking Yugyeom's seat. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Yugyeom jump at the sound of her voice and the kick to the back of his seat. My eyes then caught JB mentally fighting with himself before he pulled the car over.

I suspected Y/N wanted the car parked for the chance to slap BamBam with as much force as she could. I even considered her verbally laying into him and not wanting the distraction that came with a moving car. In retrospect, none of those reasons made sense because what happened next only seemed natural after her request.

Before the car came to a complete stop, Y/N swung the door open with some force before exiting the car completely, shoving BamBam over in the process.

“What is she doing?” JB asked, turning around to look at where she was going.

I watched in shock as my best friend climbed out of the car and began walking at a brisk pace in the opposite direction the car was headed.

Fumbling with the door handle, I clambered to get out of the car. Part of me was just nervous as to what could possibly happen to Y/N while she stood alone on a highway at night. Another part of me was worried about who she could encounter while dressed in an extremely low-cut dress at night on a highway. But the larger part was worried for my best friend's feelings. A lot of time passed since she heard someone so open and frank about the way they saw her, but she wasn't niave enough to believe no one talked about her this way. But regardless of whether they said it to her face or behind her back, it had to hurt.

I didn't bother to shut the door behind me as I climbed out of the car and began to run after her, surprised at how far she was able to travel in such a small amount of time.

"Y/N!" I called out, maintaining a comfortable jog as I slowly closed the distance between us.

She didn't respond, in fact, she didn't even turn around.  

The sigh that escaped me almost sounded too pathetic, but I refused to give up. It was too cool, dark and creepy outside for her to walk. And she wasn't even headed in the right direction!

"Hey!" I shouted at her.

In this particular moment, I wished my level of cardio was on par with Y/N. She was religious about her time in the cardio room where as I dedicated a solid two hours five times a week to intense cardio training. For Y/N, everyday was intense cardio day, whether it was a fifteen minute run or a two-hour session.

"Y/N, if you think for one second I'm leaving, you're dumber than you look," I said, knowing this would get a rise out of her.  

Was it the best idea to poke an already annoyed lioness? No, it was incredibly stupid. But I also couldn't help it. I needed to do something to turn her around and start talking.

And just like I suspected, she immediately froze at my statement. She was standing directly under a street lamp and I could fully see her outfit. On any other night I might've complimented her outfit choice and followed that up with how she didn't have to wear all the makeup that currently layered up on her face. But she didn't need that right now, that much I could work out on my own. Y/N needed a best friend and that meant giving comfort and being willing to agree with any insult she decided to hurl at any of my friends seated in the car behind us.

"Where are you going?" I asked, this time my voice filled with seriousness and sincerity.

Y/N didn't immediately respond. I watched as she balled her hands into fists, obviously trying her hardest to hold in the tirade that was probably building since we got into the car at Jinyoung's place. My mouth dried as her head lowered, my stomach lurching in a way it hadn't for a while. An overwhelming sensation filtered through me, accompanying my stomach's weird behavior, a feeling very similar to what it would feel like if someone poured ice water directly into the pit of my stomach. I couldn't exactly pinpoint what sensation or emotion it was, but I held my ground regardless.

Slowly, my best friend turned around, the wind ruffling her hair a bit as she inhaled deeply. Her eyes were focused on the car behind me, but I stayed focused on her, attempting to analyze her facial expression. It was definitely bothered, but it didn't seem halfway as pissed off as it did in the car and I was wondering why.

"Go back to the car Jackson," she said, her voice low and barely traveling the distance between us.

My brows furrowed immediately at her request. "Why would I when you're all the way over here?"

"They're your friends."

There was an almost immediate response that I nearly blurted until my mind told me to slow down. What did she mean by that? Yes, I was friends with JB and BamBam was a friendly face at parties I went to but why would she differentiate like that. She knew I was her best friend. Was she lumping me in with BamBam's drunken demeanor?  

"So? That doesn't mean you get to walk along the highway at night."

"Go back to the car, I'll meet you back at the dorms," she said dejectedly, giving me one last glance before she turned back around.

"No! I'm not leaving you out here alone," I stated firmly, my voice carrying. "Where are you even going?"

"Anywhere is better than being in that car."

Her voice did something I never heard it do before. There was a slight break in it. And as soon as the break appeared as she tried to make it past the word "better," I felt that familiar ice water-poured-over-my-stomach feeling.

"I just want to be alone right now," she said simply.

And that's when the feeling finally registered. That sickening and uncomfortable feeling slowly inching over every part of me was guilt. I felt overwhelming guilt. After all it was my idea to hitch a ride from JB and I put up no kind of objection when JB insisted that BamBam come with us no matter how intoxicated he was. Part of me knew that drunk BamBam had a tendency to lose his filter. Anything was fair game for him to talk about and it didn't matter whether the person was present or not. Tonight's victim seemed to be Y/N.

Looking down, feeling ashamed as well, I knew I couldn't make myself feel better because I defended her in the car.  

"It's cold, it's dark and anything can happen," I pointed out, taking a few steps forward.

"I can take care of myself."

"I'm not doubting that, I just...please come back to the car."

The begging tone to my voice wasn't intentional, but it was sometimes effective when dealing with an angry Y/N. Deep down she didn't like seeing me upset either, so sometimes the voice could get her to comply. A thick tension could be felt around the whole area, encompassing the two of us and the car sitting idle with three other people inside. For a brief moment, I wondered if JB was reading BamBam the riot act or if BamBam was drunkenly dancing to no music, but I hoped that JB was tearing him a new asshole.

"I'll be fine," she mumbled softly.

"Please?"

My dark brown eyes caught her glance and we held it for a moment. A pained and somewhat disingenuous smile shifted onto her features.

"Those are your friends."

"Yeah, but you're my best friend."

I suddenly felt so small. Out of all my friends, Y/N knew me the best. There wasn't a single person at the training facility that I talked to the way I did with her. I couldn't pinpoint why or how it even started, but she was someone I trusted. Most of my friends outside of her were friends I knew through parties and social outings. These were the kinds of friends that expected a smile and light chats, something easily digestible and to keep the vibe fun.  

They may have been my friends, but they didn't know much about me. They didn't know how much I sacrificed to be in Korea. They didn't know who my parents were and how much I loved them. They didn't even know how much fencing actually meant to me. Sure, I laugh a lot and look like I don't give a shit, but fencing means a lot to me and the only person I felt comfortable enough to say that to was my best friend.  

And now it felt like my best friend was pushing me away.

Y/N slowly turned and she offered me a sad smile, obviously trying to hold back her tears. "Seriously, I'll be okay. Go have fun. I'll call you when I make it back to the dorms."

"You're going in the wrong direction."

"I'll see you in the weight room, 8 a.m."

Before I could properly respond, she took off at a faster pace than before, covering a good amount of distance before she was beyond the curve of the road and out of sight.

And like an idiot I just stood there.

[mirajens]

morning will come

an installment from I’ll crawl home to her.   paring: miraxus rating: m genre: romance found on ff.n

Love in the home of play-actors. (Or: how to fall out of love and pretend otherwise.)

She can feel him falling out of love with her.

It’s not something Mirajane notices suddenly; it’s a long creeping sentiment that finally comes to a solid conclusion one night while they two of them are having dinner in the apartment they share. She can’t tell what brings on the abrupt realization that the man she’s given everything to has stopped loving her. Could it be how they sit face to face but he feels lightyears away? Could it be how he’s tapping lazily at his phone instead of making conversation with her? Could it be the whole vibe he gives of wanting to be anywhere else but here? Mira can’t quite put a finger on it.

A woman just knows what she knows, she thinks to herself with no spike of dudgeon, just a sense of hopelessness she hasn’t felt in quite a while. She looks at Laxus, feels her desperation surge, and it’s not until he looks up from his own preoccupation and points out that she hasn’t eaten a single bite that she realizes she’s trying to memorize every small detail of his face as if he’ll fade away at any given moment.

It’s slow, so slow, how he lets her go. When Mirajane tries to wrap her arms around him, he’s stiff as if he wants to recoil. When she kisses him, he turns his head just a little away so her lips land the tail end of his scar. She always looks betrayed after such occurrences but just until a nanosecond later, when Laxus’ eyes find hers as if to check if he has hurt her too much- if he has finally pushed her over the edge.

But Mirajane’s expression has already been reeled in and she’s smiling that sweet little smile at him as if it doesn’t hurt, as if she’s not just waiting for him to dispose of her. She’s not going to be the one to draw the line; she’s not going to be the one to end what she can prolong.

He still fucks her, though.

I guess he hasn’t found that part about me repulsive yet.

They’ve know each other since childhood, been together for six years and living together for two. He’s never liked doing it in the shower until recently and Mirajane tries not to wonder too much on the why. Maybe he wants to wash you off him as soon as he’s done. His hands are on her tits, his lips on hers. Like this, she can still tell herself everything is okay and he’s still in love with me. His kiss is so tender, so loving. It almost feels like a mercy before death.

Then, he breaks away, turns her around and urges her to bend over. Mirajane presses her face against the wall and sighs when he slips inside. The slap of skin against skin echoes against the tiled room, coalescing with pleasure noise. Her moans climb when Laxus’s longest fingers find her clit and he rubs masterfully. It feels much too good so she comes in no time, crying out his name like back then when she still had to ask him to stay the night because leaving each other seemed detriment.

She speculates the possibility that he remembers feeling that way. Maybe he does. He’s holding me so close. It almost feels enough to balm over all the hurt.

But the false sense of hope doesn’t even take root before Laxus pulls out, grabbing her hips so he can turn her and says with a hoarse voice, “Mira, baby…” and she already knows what he wants.

He doesn’t even say please anymore. She gets on her knees and gets to work. His grip on her hair is never painful but it’s probably not out of consideration, more out of habit because she never continues when he pulls. He grunts and pants but he never says anything. When he comes in her mouth, he doesn’t even say thank you, or I’m sorry for being an asshole, sorry for not even trying to fix what’s broken, sorry I’m gonna leave you soon. Above her he just groans as his carnality ebbs into something indolent. She’s not even done wiping at her lips when he gives her an almost perfunctory kiss on the head, turns away and starts lathering his hair with shampoo.

When did they stop talking after this? When did sex start being just something convenient and stop being so romantic? When did he stop holding her after, covering her with kisses, singing her praises, telling her thank  you, I love you, I never want to not have my hands on you.

Mirajane stands on shaky legs, pushes for space under the shower’s spray and washes the last 10 minutes off her skin. They share a two foot width of legroom with miles between them until Laxus, as if he’s just noticing her for the first time tonight, looks at her and says, “Oh, Gramps wants to have dinner on Thursday. You free?”

With no strength to put up anymore pretense, no more desire to meet his gaze, Mira nods, hiding under the curtain of her hair. “Yes.”

Laxus has work that takes him away many days. Maybe this new job is what truly started taking his heart elsewhere and keeping it there. Mira conjures up possibilities of a “someone else” but nips the thought in the bud. She doesn’t need newfangled anxiety on top of existing anxiety right now. She doesn’t need to think of him having already found someone new, not when he’s about to go on another business trip.

Mirajane tries to be the one to take him to the airport as much as possible. It’s more time with him, just a few more moments with the man she still so badly loves, even if she has a fourteen hour shift at the hospital ahead of her, even if she suspects that another woman is going to be picking him up when he lands. She hazards in front of his terminal. Laxus inspects his bag one last time to check for the essentials (wallet, phone, ticket, and the passport Mira has stuck a post-it with I miss you already written on it, reeking of desperation). He’s talking as he fixes his jacket and reaches behind his seat for the small carry on with 3 days’ worth of clothes. Why can’t he stay still? Why is he trying to do everything at the same time? Is he is that much of a hurry to be rid of me? Mirajane can’t hear the reminders he prattles off (“I did the cheques for the bills last night so you can just drop them off.” “If the old man calls, tell him he can reach me on my cell.” “I picked up the dry cleaning last night. It’s still in my car, can you take them inside? I was in a hurry.”), so focused is she on the look of him: handsome, sharp, the only picture of romance that she has ever known. She brushes away the dastardly intrusive thought that she better take a good look because it’s the last time she can.

“You okay, Mira? Did you hear what I said?”

Mirajane doesn’t startle but she flushes at being caught so distracted. “Of course. Call me when you land, okay? And again when you get to the hotel.”

Laxus is simultaneously checking his watch, hefting his luggage and opening the car door. “I’ll see. I’ll be at dinner with Gajeel until late so you might be asleep by then.” He steps one foot out the car, clearly impatient.

Mirajane grips the steering wheel. At least promise you will. It’s not that hard to call. You know I’ll pick up despite anything, just to hear your voice. “Baby?”

Now he’s out of the car, ducking inside to grab his luggage, having foregone a kiss, a hug, any fucking show of gratitude that I made myself late for work just to drive you here. “Yeah, what? I need to get inside and check in.”

Pride is a bitter pill to swallow but at this point, Mirajane has none left. All she has is her ache for someone who’s right in front of her, and it bleeds out in her tone. “I’ll miss you. I love you so much.”

The play of expressions on Laxus’ face is easy to read: bafflement, irritation, and then guilt. He looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say back. He never used to need to, when his feelings were still genuine. “Yeah, love you. Thanks for the lift.”

He dives in to kiss her but it’s more of him just smashing his lips against hers and then the door closes in her face.

She meets up with Gray for coffee the next day Laxus is gone. She’s not sure why it took so long for her to seek out her most trusted friend, since she’s always valued his insight. She needs male perspective on her plight. And to tell the truth, she is lonely as well.

“At what point is it enough?” Mirajane asks. She’s expounded on her domestic issues to a silent Gray, who has had 3 refills of brewed coffee, two plates of eggs and bacon, and by the looks of it, he’s not going to be done any time soon.  Mira has ordered one cup of coffee since arriving and it’s gone cold since. She samples her tepid brew and thinks: the coffee is still shitty. At least time or change has not touched this place.

“Isn’t that up to your discretion?” Gray answers. He’s a man who answers questions with questions, always on the safe side of things with his lack of commitment. Love and care for his friend as he might, he never gives her any imposing input and Mirajane supposes that’s why she likes him so much.

“I’m asking you. What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

“I don’t know, Mira-chan. I’ve never had to put up with your hollow block of a boyfriend so I have no sage advice.”

Now Mira looks annoyed. While Gray’s unbiased opinion is appreciated most of the time, there are times like this when he is too infuriatingly unhelpful in his neutrality. “Are you telling me I’m paying for your caffeine fix and mammoth breakfast and you’re not even gonna give me a little input?”

Gray finishes chewing before he speaks. He sets Mira on edge as he swallows his food and chases it down with coffee.  “Okay. So if my man was treating me like a blowjob ATM and giving me the bare minimum of affection, I’d have long dumped his ass. But not before making sure he comes home to a trashed apartment and all his clothes down the garbage chute.” Gray drains his coffee and signals for another. Their regular waiter is prompt with the coffee pot. Mirajane declines with a polite smile. When the waiter leaves, Gray continues, “Babe, you weren’t born this hot to live off a man’s emotional scraps. You have to figure out if you still really love him and if all of this is worth it, or if it’s just Stockholm Syndrome now.”

The air goes quiet, stale with unshed tears Mirajane blinks away. Her eyes are red, glossy and burning and her throat hurts but she won’t cry. She allows her hands to shake, though. “I don’t know life without him, Gray. And I don’t think I want to find out.”

She’s seen Gray look disappointed before. But never like this. Never at her. “Then there’s nothing I can do to help you, Mira-chan.”

When Mira gets home, she tries his number. Just like yesterday, it goes straight to voicemail and she doesn’t want to remember the embarrassing amount of messages she has left asking him to call her back when he has the time. So far, all she has that indicates he’s still alive is the bare I’m here. Gajeel’s picking me up and we might be busy until I have to leave. Might extend my stay. I’ll call soon, which he sent five hours after his landing time, as if he just remembered there was someone waiting at home for him.

The thing about modern media is that it almost always fails to give the cheating thing any justice. Surely it’s a plot that’s been beaten dead since the beginning of literature but no one focuses on something that Mirajane figures out one day. No one tells you how disgusting it feels like to be cheated on.

Disregarding the awful sadness and the blinding rage, it’s so easy for a long lost sense of insecurity to show up and swallow one whole. Mirajane tries to remember the last time she indulged such an intrusive feeling and the last she can come up with is during high school when the regulated swimwear failed to hide her modesty by clinging to curves none of her classmates had yet.

She observes herself in front of a mirror, just fresh from the bath. Her figure is great but it’s not what Laxus committed to 6 years ago. Her breasts could be perkier and her thighs could be more toned. She’s softer in her belly since she started dedicating her hours to the hospital and all there was to eat there were miserable cafeteria food. There are bags under her eyes. Does that turn him off, seeing her so tired all the time? A nurse has small need for makeup so Mirajane wears none but tinted chapstick these days.

I bet the girls from his office wear makeup and do their hair and wear pretty clothes. Laxus used to tell me I looked nice when I put in effort back then.

Maybe she should bring that effort back. It wouldn’t hurt to line her lids or curl her pale lashes every now and then. Maybe with rouged cheeks, Laxus will love her again. Maybe if she wasn’t so bland, he wouldn’t leave.

The day Laxus comes home is a Saturday. It’s the busiest day in the hospital week but Mira begged off as ill (and perhaps she really was, with the way she persisted with a man who didn’t want her) just to see him come through the door.

When Laxus comes home, it’s five days after no calls, no messages, no emails, no nothing. For a moment, while sitting in the living room couch and casting glances at the door, she has a moment to ask herself, are you sure he’s gonna be back?  There has been no word of him at all. It was as if he stopped caring at all that she waits, that she holds on.

But the heavy load sitting on her shoulders ebb away lightning quick when the main locks sound and the door swings open. There was Laxus, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, but at least he was home. Finally home so that the constricts against Mirajane’s lungs could loosen even for just a bit.

When she rises to greet him, complete with a smile that swallows so much ego, Laxus has the courtesy to look ashamed of himself. But this is a house of play-actors so he reels it in, smiles like she does and pretends like she does.

“I’m home,” he says, as if that words still means anything to him, as if the dirty laundry in his bags don’t reek of someone else’s perfume,  as if this was going to be the last time he’d come home from an infidelity.

But if he knows Mira, he can do this again and again and again and again and he’d still come home to her open arms. This isn’t something he takes for granted. Or maybe if he does, it is to see how far he can push her until she shoves back. Over time, this reasoning seems to have lost the conviction it used to have so that Laxus himself can’t believe it anymore.

And Mira? She doesn’t seem to want to not believe it, if her gentle gaze is anything to go by.  “Welcome back.”

[hjertetssunnegalskap1]

SKAM Characters as Myers-Briggs personality types

I have tried to see the characters in Skam as MB personality types. Note: This is just for fun. It`s my own subjective speculations, I might be wrong, and I will be thrilled if you have input.

Thinker (INTP): Isak

I believe that Isak has an INTP personality. Isak seems to be introverted, intuitive, thinking, and perceiving, and a “thinker”. He has a bright and curious mind that is always mulling over possibilities, theories, and what-ifs (like altarnate universes). 

INTPs like Isak aren’t the most forthcoming individuals where feelings are concerned. Isak may seem somewhat out of reach unless the subject of conversation drifts into a realm in which he has an interest. He can become very passionate about subjects that he find fascinating, and can talk for hours about his ideas on such topics. A person like him is most likely to have a small group of friends. Although he sometimes may appear to be day dreaming, he will pay close attention if he hears details that perk his analytical instincts. 

Isak is a laid back personality that is happy to let things slide. However, he may be roused into a clever and impassioned defense against statements that he feels are wholly incorrect or that he feels strongly about. HIs enthusiasm may also shine when he get the opportunity to work his problem solving skills. Mundane everyday activities make INTPs like Isak bored and unhappy. 

Although INTPs are flexible and relaxed, they often appear shy or reluctant to meet someone new. When a “thinker” like Isak does find someone worth divulging their true self to, he will do so slowly but earnestly. He can be a very straight-forward, honest lover, with a love that is quite pure in its simple, uncomplicated nature. Although they choose to keep things straight-forward in their relationships, this does not mean that the INTP is lacking in depth of feeling or passion. The INTP is very creative person, who has vivid imaginations. They can be very excitable and passionate about their love relationships. Sexually, the INTP usually approaches intimacy with enthusiasm and excitement, but may not express his own feelings often or well. . 

Ideally, this thinkers will be happiest in a relationship that allows them to retain independence. The two most compatible personality types for INTPs are the ENTJ (extraverted, intuitive, thinking, judging), like Vilde (!) and ENFJ (extraverted, intuitive, feeling, judging), like Eva and Even. These extravert personalities seem more capable of sensing their partner’s need for freedom and space. Yeay! Even and Isak are a match! 

Excecutive (ENTJ): Vilde

“Executives” like Vilde often thrive in work environments and are likely to climb the corporate ladder very easily (I am not sure if this type fits Vilde 100 %, but it was the best I could find). Being an extraverted thinker, this kind of individual has no problem discovering what needs to be done and then delegating tasks for others to carry out. To outsiders, ENTJs like Vilde can seem blunt and bossy, but this usually stems from their certainty about a solution and the steps necessary to make it come to fruition. 

These individuals are extraverts, and are very good about mapping long-term goals for the future. “Executives” take relationships very seriously and are committed, loyal partners. This extravert with an underlying intuitive nature will have no problem sharing ideas, goals, and certain personal aspects in the very early stage of dating.  ENTJs want their home to be beautiful, well-furnished, and efficiently run.

The direct nature of ENTJ can be very refreshing in a relationship, especially for an introverted personality. They don’t want to waste their time with an individual who clearly would be unsuitable for them. ENTJs crave growth and forward movement which is why these two aspects must be present in a long term romantic relationship. The “executive” will always look for ways to redefine the relationship in order to achieve the next stage of relationship evolution. Sexually, the ENTJ is robust, imaginative and enthusiastic. Their natural instinct to lead will be apparent in this arena as well as other areas of life, and they will lead their partner on creative lovemaking adventures, where the focus is on mutual learning and affection sharing.

INTP (introverted, intuitive, thinking, perceiving) personalities , like Isak (!) and INFP (introverted, intuitive, feeling, perceiving) personalities , like Jonas (!) suit the ENTJ very well.

Visionary, debater (ENTP):  Eskild

The ENTP is referred to as the “visionary”, and  has an impulsive nature. The ENTP, like Eskild, is primarily driven by an extraverted intuition which means that they are intrigued by what goes on in their environment and will likely base their opinions and actions on feelings rather than an internal, logical thought process. These individuals tend to excel in academics, politics, and business.

Although generally laid-back in nature, easy to talk to, and often possessed of a great sense of humor, ENTP characters can also come off as argumentative. Some ENTPs will have several plans and ideas going on at once and although the plans may be sound, this kind of person will often lack the determination to put their ideas into action. One such individual may be wonderful at creating concepts and might even get started on implementing a project, but will eventually lose interest in the “work” before it is complete. 

For all of Eskild`s ability to quickly absorb information from his surroundings, he may inadvertently hurt others’ feelings, fail to truly listen to others, and may come across as aggressive in some situations.

The “visionary” is a learner and an idea-driven individual who is always looking for ways to improve a relationship. This doesn’t necessarily mean that all ENTPs are going to be looking for crazy ways to spice things up, but they are going to be looking for new experiences to share with their companion. 

The ENTP character has the potential to get along with several personalities, such as the ESFJ (extraverted, sensing, feeling, judging), ENFJ (extraverted, intuitive, feeling, judging), like Eva and Even, and ISFJ (introverted, sensing, feeling, judging); but the most compatible personalities for the ENTP are INTJ (introverted, intuitive, thinking, judging) and INFJ (introverted, intuitive, feeling, judging). 

Protector (INFJ): Sana 

INFJ is a rare but intriguing personality to come across. The nickname for this type of disposition is “The Protector.” Being an observant and compassionate soul, individuals with this kind of persona will go to great lengths to avoid hurting or upsetting others and are very protective of those they care about. 

Sana is sensitive, perceptive, and highly likely to stick with a gut instinct about a person or situation; and their instincts are usually right. She will be less likely to offer up her own feelings and may be accused of “holding back” in her relationships, primarily romantic ones.

An INFJ is so used to relying on his or her own instincts (using the “I’m always right” justification) that they may have a tendency to dismiss others’ opinions, sometimes even before they have a chance to listen to the other party. Example: Biology class, yeah?! A “protector” like Sana can be controlling in that he or she takes to planning and organizing well in advance and will often make decisions single-handedly. This stubborn character will frequently reassess the priorities in their life to ensure that they live up to their full potential, though rarely will they feel as though they have achieved this high goal. 

There are four personalities that seem to get along best in INFJ relationships. One such personality is the ENFP (extravert, intuitive, feeling, and perceiving), like Magnus. ENTP (extravert, intuitive, thinking, perceiving), like Eskild, is another personality type that gets along well with the INFJ for the same reasons. INTJ (introvert, intuitive, thinking, judging) displays many of the primary personality traits as the INFJ and will likely be more understanding and accepting of an INFJ’s “ways.” By the same logic, the fourth most suitable personality type is another INFJ. 

Idealist (INFP): Jonas

The INFP, or “Idealist,” like Jonas, is a character that has a very active imagination. They tend to not only see the best in the people around them, but they may also be led to imagining characteristics and motives in others that simply aren’t there. Much like the INFJ, INFPs really dislike conflict and will go to great lengths to avoid an argument and see that everyone is happy.

"Idealists” can be very laid-back and intuitive of those around them. Generally thoughtful and considerate, INFPs are good listeners and put people at ease. Although they may be reserved in expressing emotion, they have a very deep well of caring and are genuinely interested in understanding people. This sincerity is sensed by others, making the INFP a valued friend and confidante. 

INFPs do not like conflict, and go to great lengths to avoid it. This trait sometimes makes them appear irrational and illogical in conflict situations. On the other hand, INFPs make very good mediators, and are typically good at solving other people's conflicts, because they intuitively understand people's perspectives and feelings, and genuinely want to help them.

INFPs have very high standards and are perfectionists. Consequently, they are usually hard on themselves, and don't give themselves enough credit. In a relationship, this persona will be looking for inspiration, stimulation, and passion. Sexually, the INFP is likely to be initially slow to open up to their mates. Once their trust has been earned, the INFP will view sexual intimacy as an opportunity for expressing their deep-seated love and affection. More than the actual sexual act, they will value giving and receiving love and sweet words. With their tendency to enjoy serving others, they may value their mates satisfaction above their own.

The “idealist” will be most happy in a relationship that always has something new and intriguing popping up. INFPs tend to get along best with other intuitive personalities such as ENFJ (extraverted, intuitive, feeling, judging), like Eva and Even, and ENTJ (extraverted, intuitive, thinking, judging), like Vilde (!). 

Giver (ENFJ): Eva, Even

ENFJs, like Eva and Even, are very tuned in to what others are feeling and they genuinely want those they care about to be happy. “Givers” have a genuine need to entertain and indulge others because they enjoy the sense of acceptance that comes from their actions. “Givers” have a highly sensitive ability to pick up on what another individual is feeling and can usually get a person to open up with ease. This need to be loved and accepted by others can go so deeply that an ENFJ may even drift into chameleon mode where he or she senses the moods and motives of others and imitates them.   

This type of personality is more likely to overlook whether social actions are right or wrong because they become so consumed with social normalcies and expectations and are driven by the desire to be accepted by others. This fits Eva, but not reallly Even. On the other hand, ENFJs may become so desperate for approval from others that they may behave oddly or outside of the realm of social regularity. This may be portrayed as saying or doing something in public or around strangers that most people would consider inappropriate.

ENFJ individuals are outgoing and will never cease to inspire and entertain a partner. They're totally dedicated to the relationship, and to their partner, and have a special skill for warmth and affirmation which brings out the best in their mates. They take their commitments seriously, and are likely to put forth a lot of effort into making a relationship work once they have commited themselves to it.  Sexually, the ENFJ looks forward to intimacy as an opportunity to express love and caring. The ENFJ is generally very interested in the happiness and satisfaction of their partner. Because they achieve much of their personal satisfaction from making others happy, they're likely to be skilled lovers.

As this type of personality thrives in a social atmosphere, “givers” are happiest with individuals who are comfortable having a large social circle. The “giver’s” need to make others happy and to “do what’s best” can kick into overdrive and become smothering. A companion would need to be bold and speak up when their ENFJ partner becomes overprotective or oppressive. The personalities that seem most compatible with the ENFJ are the INFP (introverted, intuitive, feeling, perceiving) and INTP (introverted, intuitive, thinking, perceiving). 

Inspirer (ENFP):  Magnus

I`m a bit uncertain if Even rather is an ENFP than an ENFJ. But I`m quite sure that Magnus is an ENFP. ENFP individuals are considered to be one of the most varied and adaptable types of characters and are typically referred to as “inspirers.” An ENFP is open-minded and enthusiastic yet the intuitive portion of the personality allows the individual to be thoughtful and insightful.  “Inspirers” are multi-talented and, to outsiders, seem to be good at everything. This is likely due to this character’s passionate and enthusiastic nature which can be contagious to those around them.

ENFPs have a strong need to be liked by others and can sometimes act corny in an effort to be liked. This type of individual may have an excellent sense of humor which, as an extravert, will only encourage others to like them even more. This extravert is an excellent talker and has a knack for getting others to open up. Boredom can drive this persona to act more impulsive than usual which could land him or her into trouble. Many individuals with this personality are not happy with the bog-standard life of a routine job and uneventful home life. In order for this sort of individual to really excel at a task, they have to have an interest in what they are doing; in which case they can perform very well with little or no supervision. 

This personality truly loves life and treats each day as a gift to be treasured. Such an outlook can be both helpful and detrimental in a relationship. Some ENFPs may have a problem leaving bad relationships. ENFP relationships must have excitement, newness, and even some surprises in order to prevent the “inspirer” from becoming bored. They may be in the habit of constantly asking their partner how they're doing, what they're feeling, etc. This behavior may be a bit smothering, but it also supports a strong awareness of the health (or illness) of the relationship.

Sexually, The ENFP is creative, perfectionistic, playful and affectionate. Their rich fantasy world makes them fun and creative lovers, who usually have new ideas up their sleeves. They whole-heartedly embrace the opportunity for closeness with their mates, believing sexual intimacy to be a positive, fun way to express how much you love each other.

The most compatible partners tend to be INFJs (introverted, intuitive, feeling, judging) and INTJs (introverted, intuitive, thinking, perceiving).

Duty Fulfiller (ISTJ): Noora

The ISTJ is often viewed as a serious and reserved individual. Although not exactly shy, this kind of individual may certainly appear so around strangers. “Duty fulfillers” like Noora are peace-loving individuals and will go to great lengths to avoid confrontation. These individuals crave security and are always looking for ways to make their lives more dependable and solid. These types of people are also great organizers and often succeed at any task that they set out to tackle.

"Duty Fulllfillers” suffers from the classic struggle of recognizing their own feelings and will find even more difficulty conveying their feelings to others. That being said, ISTJs can “relax” a bit more around those that they really care about and can learn to overcome habitual obstacles in order to have a healthy and successful relationship.

ISTJ relationships often start out very conservative. “Duty fulfillers” aren’t big fans of grand or mushy displays of affection and can sometimes be uncomfortable with public displays of affection, especially in the early stage of a relationship. Once they have made a commitment to a relationship, they will stick with it until the end. Sexually, the ISTJ is likely to approach intimacy from a physical perspective, rather than as a means of expressing love and affection. They usually have a problem expressing their deepest feelings, even though they may be very strongly felt.

Two personalities that can complement the ISTJ persona are the ESTP (extraverted, sensing, thinking, perceiving), like Chris and Chris (!), and ESFP (extraverted, sensing, feeling, perceiving), like Nicolai and Emma (???!!!). These extravert personalities will have more skill at gently getting under the many folds within the “duty fulfiller’s” personality. 

Mechanic (ISTP): William

At first I thought that William was extrovert, but it didn`t seem to fit. The ISTP character, like William, has a keen interest in learning how and why things work the way that they do. As a result, this personality has been nicknamed the “mechanic.” 

Although the ISTP will likely seem quiet on the outside, this person may actually be a thrill-seeker at heart. Many “mechanics” are enthralled by action and will be drawn to adrenaline-pumping activities such as bungee jumping or sky diving. When a situation becomes particularly stressful or if the individual has been subjected to high stress levels for a prolonged period of time, he or she may erupt in an angry or otherwise emotional outburst. ISTPs  can also produce positive “emotional attacks” in which they become exceptionally sweet, romantic, or generous to those close to them.

“Mechanics” typically don’t go off in search of their soul mate or life-long partner. This concept entails far too much emotional investment and future-planning. Contrary to how cold this character may seem on the outside, they often do feel very intense emotions for those that they care about. ISTP can certainly succumb internally to feelings of passion and consuming love for the right companion. Unfortunately, their difficulty in showing and explaining these feelings can be a disadvantage in a relationship. Sexually, the ISTP approaches intimacy as a physical act rather than an expression of love and affection. They are earthy and sensual beings who enthusiastically experience sex with all five senses. They bring spontaneity, creativity, and enthusiasm into the bedroom, and enjoy new experiences.

A suitable mate would need to be willing to put forth their own efforts to keep the relationship fun and engaging and be open to new experiences suggested by ISTP. The most compatible personality types for ISTP are typically ESFJ (extraverted, sensing, feeling, judging) and ESTJ (extraverted, sensing, thinking, judging).

Entrepeneur (ESTP): Chris (Schistad), Chris (Berg)

It`s funny how the two “name twins” seems to have similar personalities! “Doers” like Chris and Chris primarily focus their energy on the environment around them. They use their basic senses to pull information from their surroundings and then process the data internally via a logical, objective system. This natural “people person” gets along well with others and is probably the first to strike up a conversation with a stranger.

ESTP is prone to making impulsive decisions. They often feel that the best answer is to jump in and get it over with. ESTP is definitely the type of individual who could easily fall into money trouble, especially if they have the opportunity to gamble. Spending large amounts of money (or spending money that they don’t have) can be a serious side effect of their impulsive nature. A “doer” tends to have a wonderful storyteller-like aura that can lure others into a conversation. They often have a very expressive face and may use hand gestures to help convey a description or gain a person’s attention. 

An ESTP relationship, even that which does not work out, is never boring. This personality has a great sense of humor and is virtually fearless when it comes to approaching people. Metaphorically speaking, they could charm the birds from the trees, and this gift is a wonderful tool to use in the dating field.

When part of a mutually satisfying relationship, ESTP can be very loving. A “doer” may not express his or her feelings verbally, but instead may use gift-giving as a way to express their love or affection. ISTJ (introverted, sensing, thinking, judging) and ISFJ (introverted, sensing, feeling, judging) personalities seem to get along best with a “doer.”

Other characters

Finally, here are some of the other Myers Briggs personalities, and some of the characters that I`m uncertain of. If you have some idea, or input, I will be so happy. It would be fun to have a complete list over possible personality types and matches on the Skam characters.

Entertainer (ESFP):  Nicolai, Emma

Nurturer (ISFJ): Kasper???

Consul/ caregiver (ESFJ):  Mahdi? Iben?

Guardian (ESTJ): Ingrid? 

Scientist (INTJ):  

Adventurer (ISFP):

Linn???   She`s introvert, but what else?