LESSON ROMANCE WRITING Saying "I Love You"

[MaryGold]

Saying "I Love You"

The month is February, romance is brewing, companies are profiting off of the mass's romance and need to confine to the traditional Valentine's day ongoings, and many members of society are still unaware of the paganistic origins of Valentine's day, and that August is the official month of romance. But this thread is not about Valentine's day, it is about the core of it that we come to understand today: love. Romantic love to be exact.

What is love? A question posed by many through the course of history in world media, including by both South Korea's popular girl group formed by JYP Entertainment Twice. It is still unknown whether they have found the answer to the question to this day. Everyone has their own answer and truth to the question in general, many all relating to each other, and others described quite differently. The question itself may never have an official and universally accepted answer, and the ways that we write and express love is the same.

With confidence, I can say that the most written genre on this site is romance. It is not always a fulfilled romance, but it is there, in group roleplays and especially in one on ones. And still, some of us may have difficulty writing it. Simply having your character say the words "I love you" is not enough to convince the audience, let alone the person on the receiving end of the words. Love is expressed in numerous ways not just in those three letters.

Gary Chapman, the writer of The Five Love Languages: How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate shows the general ways people experience and express romantic love. They are listed as such:

Words of Affirmation: ​

Words of affirmation are literally expressed through language. Words of encouragement, appreciation, affirmation, compliments, etc. Verbally showing love through messages, whether orally or vocally.​

​

Physical Touch:​

Physical touch is shown by giving affection through physical means. This does not drop immediately into sex, but and/or the little things too. Simply running hands through a partner's hair, kissing their cheek, holding their hand.​

​

Acts of Service:​

Acts of service are doing kind acts for the object of affection. This could be helping your partner with the dishes, giving them rides to work, opening doors for them every time, etc.​

​

Quality Time:​

Quality time is giving your time to your partner, simply spending time with them. And this can be anything as long as you're there with them, sharing with them your undivided attention.​

​

Gifts:​

Gifts are not as mundane and basic as giving random things to your partner but giving thoughtful gifts. Those gifts may be simple as "I thought of you". It shows the time and effort that the person getting the gift went through for the other.​

You can take a quiz HERE if you would like to see what your love language is. If you don't have a partner or never had one in general I still encourage you to take it, it is all good fun. You can use the power of deduction and imagination as we do on this site.

Now that you have a general idea of other ways to express love, here comes the mini exercise to help you write romance.

In 500 words write a blurb of your character (doesn't matter who, new or old) expressing their love without saying the very words "I love you". You can use any of the acts as a reference or something on your own entirely. It's okay if you go over a hundred or a little under the specified word count. Do your best!

BONUS: Take the quiz, screenshot your results and share it! ​

 

[wren.]

For @MaryGold, since you insisted ;) I'm afraid it got away from me a bit.

isiah

It has never been rare to find Vince drinking alone, but now, on his birthday of all days, it's downright depressing. Why didn't he call him to see if he could hang out? He would have dropped everything to make himself available. The bastard didn't even bother to tell him that it was his birthday; he had to find out from his right hand, who'd sent him a picture of Vince sitting alone at the bar of his own club with the caption, "he looks too sad, come get him." Sad, indeed, as the Vince in the picture stares off into the sea of people, nursing a glass of whiskey with a heartbreakingly vacant expression.

So now here he is, making his way into the bustling Dionysus at 9:42 PM, ignoring the people who attempt to stop him for a chat about his whereabouts since his quitting the place. Vince looks no different from the picture by the time he reaches him, although his expression does morph into one of confusion when he takes notice of Isiah. It's adorable, the way his face pinches as he tries to assess him through his drunken stupor. It makes him look younger, somehow. His eyeliner is smudged, too. It's not often Isiah gets to see him off-guard, so his heart flutters with an appreciation for the moment. "Isiah? What are you doing here?"

"Improving your night with my presence," he grins, draping himself across the neighboring bar stool and counter. He allows his calf to brush against Vince's and tries not to shiver from the contact. "I heard it's your birthday, so I thought I'd congratulate you on another year closer to the grave, old man."

Vince snorts, tossing back the rest of the amber liquid in his glass. His larynx bobs with his swallowing, and his tongue flicks out to chase the remnants off his bottom lip. Isiah's own throat feels parched, so he swallows in turn. "'If you're going to crash my night, I hope you at least brought me a gift."

"I'm your gift," he says immediately, but the words aren't nearly as smug as he'd wanted. The desperate nature of them leaves his face burning, especially once Vince fixes his pale gaze on him with such an intensity that it knocks him momentarily breathless. Before he can say something that will break his heart, Isiah laughs disingenuously, eyes moving to the piano on the nearby stage and away from Vince's oceanic eyes and pretty lips. "I didn't have enough time to get you anything special, but I thought I'd play a song. Here. Like I used to before — well, before," he rushes out, stuttering over the mention of their initial falling out. They've grown past that. At least, he'd like to think so. He'd like to think that they're friends now, although neither of them has ever confirmed it.

"I'd like that," Vince responds, drawing Isiah's attention back to him. He's smiling soft enough to kill him, crow's feet crinkling minutely.

"Of course you would," he sniffs, posturing, "Since you have taste." Vince's smile widens into a grin, and Isiah practically flees to the piano.

Immediately, there are muted cheers from some of the clubgoers, but he pays them no mind as he settles into the familiar seat and sprawls his fingers against the keys. His heart rate immediately spikes in his chest. There's no better time to show Vince what he's been working on, but he's terrified of how the man will react. He probably won't even realize that it's for him, but what if he does and what if he hates it?

Deep breath. He closes his eyes and wills himself to play the beginning, ominous chords. Once he's started, he can't just stop with all of these people watching him. So he plays, churning out dark notes that pick up in pace over time, spelling out every childhood tragedy and hard-won battle that Vince has whispered to him like confession in the dead of night. Vince is brilliant, passionate, powerful, volatile. He's never met someone who feels everything as intensely as he does. The world has been cruel to him, so he began to steal from it with tooth and nail. He should never have had to. He opens his eyes and finds Vince's gaze beyond the glow of the stage light, holding it even as his heart stutters. Vince looks away bashfully, and it's hard to tell if the color on his face is from the lights of the club or not. He's so lovely, and he's worked so hard, and Isiah is so proud of him.

He taps out airy notes that sing of devotion, affection, and fragility. Vince is the most sentimental person he's ever met. He's kind, sensitive, protective, self-sacrificial. He'd sooner die than let a loved one bruise. He unapologetically wears his heart on his sleeve and cuts those who would mock him for it. He's as delicate as he is fatal, and it's the most breathtaking combination Isiah knows. He's lonely, too. He shouldn't have to be. Isiah's here, and he needs Vince to know that as he throws himself bodily into the music, eyes locked on Vince's wide ones. His heart is racing in his throat now, and he's choking on it. His head is reeling, but still, his hands don't falter because he needs him to know, dammit. The spotlight is burning him up beneath his white three-piece suit, but it doesn't matter because Vince is looking back at him, entranced, and even if he doesn't know, he's at least still listening. He can barely hear the music over the rushing of his blood in his ears, but it doesn't matter because he knows this song by heart.

He's practically panting by the time he's finished, and oh, he's trembling. When did that start? There's applause, and he grins, taking a moment to breathe and steady himself. Somehow, he manages to stand and make his way back toward his friend without tripping over his own feet. Incredible to think that he's known for his grace. The pink on Vince's face makes him want to jump into the man's lap and kiss him stupid, but he shoves down the impulse and claps a hand over Vince's shoulder instead. "Happy birthday, Vincent."

"You're a showoff, do you know that?" But his smile betrays his words, and Isiah beams back. Vince visibly softens again, laying a hand over his own. The contact burns. "Thank you. It's the best gift I've had in a while."

Fuck. Fuck him. No, seriously, please. "You're welcome," he croaks before clearing the lump from his throat. "Anyway, I think you've had more than enough to drink tonight, so let me take you home."

Vince snorts, removing his hand, much to Isiah's disappointment. "I can handle myself just fine."

"I don't doubt that. But let me do it anyway. Please?"

Vince is silent, eyes roving his face. Finally, "Fine."

"Good," he chirps, entwining their fingers without a second thought and pulling the man to his feet. "Come on, then."

They stumble through the crowd and out into the cold November night, their clasped hands enough to keep Isiah warm. He helps Vince into the passenger side of his Mercedes before sliding into the driver's seat, turning on the engine and letting it heat up for a moment. Vince leans his head against his window, staring at him with an unreadable expression that makes his skin prickle. "What?"

"Will you play that song for me again tomorrow? I'm afraid I might forget it by the morning."

Damn him. Chuckling, Isiah kicks the car into drive. "I'll play it as many times as you'd like."

 

[iridescent]

I couldn't resist taking the quiz and here are results!

 

[Sorrelfur]

Theo hadn't been excited for a Valentine's day in years. Given how his last boyfriend was to him he was lucky to get even an 'I love you' on Valentine's day. But the past couple months of dating Christian had been a stark difference to his previous relationship. The other had shown him so much love and affection he felt excited for this holiday for the first time in years. Unfortunately Christian had to work for the first part of the day. However that gave Theo time to get to the other's house and go all out decorating it. With bags upon bags in his hand the shorter male did his best to carry them all from his apartment to Christian's. He used his key to get inside, immediately setting the bags down by the front door.

"Maybe I got too much stuff?" he mumbled to himself, looking over all the bags on the floor. He didn't even remember half the things he bought. Theo did remember he had desserts to back so he grabbed the food bag and hurried to the kitchen. Checking the time occasionally as he got started on some cookies. Christian always loved his cooking but he didn't get to bake for him very often. He hoped the cookies would be a good throwback to the time Theo baked him some cute cookies with little mottos on them back in the beginning of their relationship.

It didn't take him long to get the cookies in the oven. Setting a timer he hurried back to the front door, he needed to start on the decorations. Only having two hours or so to finish everything before Christian got home. He wasn't confident in his decorating skills but after half an hour it was looking...reallt good actually. Streamers lined the ceiling, groups of heart shaped balloons scattered around the room, and even the coffee table had a valentine's day style cloth on it. Feeling like the living room was pretty much done he decided to add some extra touches. Getting a bag of fake petals he bought and spreading them all over the floor, starting from the front door and leading to the bedroom for later. "Oh wait the lights...this freaking app so confusing," he pulled his phone out. Fiddling around with the app for a bit before finally managing to make the lights in the rooms turn to pink and red.

Theo did a little fist bump before suddenly his phone dinged and a text popped up. 'Hey I managed to get off early! So see you soon love xoxo' the text was sweet but immediately had Theo panicking. Running back into the kitchen to check the cookies. Thankfully they were sugar cookies and thin so they were cooked. Pulling them out he stuck them in the fridge to chill them as he got the icing ready. The shorter male kept checking his phone for the time. Mentally calculating how much time he had left as he rushed to decorate the cookies. They weren't the most professional, his lines a bit shaky as he wrote cute messages on them. He was in the middle of plating them when he heard the door opening.

"Love! I'm home, where ar-" Christian's sentence was cut off as he took in the site before him. He paused by the door taking in everything and eventually his eyes landed on Theo coming out of the kitchen. Icing on his cheek, holding a plate of homemade cookies. The other immediately smiled as he walked over to meet him. "Are these for me?"

"U-um yeah they are...sorry they're a bit wonky..." Theo was cut off but Christian kissing him. The kiss lasted a little longer than their usual kisses before the other pulled back and pressed their foreheads together.

"They're perfect love, all I need to be happy is you but the cookies are an added bonus," he laughed. Theo felt his worries about how the other would like his gift melt away. This was going to be a perfect valentine's day.


Also apparently I'm a materialistic turd

 

[Nemopedia]

My highest love language to give is 'Quality Time', since I only really know how to show my appreciation by offering something subtle as my presence.

My highest love language to receive is definitely 'Acts of Services'. I'm not the type to get flustered fast, but someone genuinely coming to help me by offering to help me with cooking or so?

Also food should also be a love language, I feel. My love definitely goes through my stomach.

Anya Nosferatu

I love you...

"No," the redhead mumbled to herself, scratching the words out, the tip of the pen roughly moving over the paper as it nearly ripped the spot where once the words stood, blotting part of the wood along, "no, not right," she mumbles to herself, hand raking through her hair before she sets her pen to the paper once more.

I seem to rather adore--

No again, her pen said as it fluidly scratched the words out once more. "Forward, but not too forward," Anya mused, tapping her lip with the writing utensil before she sets its tip to the surface one last time.

More than words can express.

She frowns, still not satisfied as she releases yet another sigh. Not right, just not right. None of it was right.

It went scratched out again. Writing a letter was proving itself to be hard, Anya found. Strange, for she never had been one to be shy of words or with them. It had been her pride to always know how to answer exactly, yet here she sat, unable to express her most tender feelings on the paper she was so familiar with.

Perhaps sharing some croissants would do, Anya thought, already looking forward to the thought of the fresh baked pastry and the tired smile she would receive when she would propose a break well deserved. With food that she loved in one hand, and the time of her beloved Anya was surely to find the words she needed to finish her letter.

Ah, that definitely sounded great. With some tea and jam, different from marmelade and jelly. Some butter to go along and even some honey as an extra treat. She could almost imagine the sun setting on her hair while talking and talking about anything and everything that was unrelated to this letter, her little secret, a surprise of her deepest expression.

That did seem to be the easiest way to celebrate valentine's.

 

[PavellumPendulum]

I second food needing to be a love language in itself. Nothing makes me happier than receiving food, whether homecooked or just picked out specifically to my tastes.

the distance between us, the size of a planet

It's early.

The temples are quiet. Though most here are early risers, Xie'koah is up earlier than all of them today. The sun has barely climbed up from behind the horizon, and the moon greets him curiously from up in the sky as he stares out the window. He is alone, but not for long. As the sun pulls itself up out of bed, the scholars, the sages and the oracles alike will mimic it, searching to shine as well, with the knowledge of the cosmos. He stands and stretches, pulling on his robes.

He must be quick. With his worn, frayed cord between his teeth, he pulls his dark hair into his ponytail, as he does every other morning. When all of it is gathered, he ties the cord tightly, and exits his room. The halls are empty. He doesn't know what he's doing, at this point. Every day, the same careful tiptoeing. Every single day, the same cautious sliding of the doors. Peeking around corners, in case anyone wakes up ahead of schedule. Xie slips into the kitchens, and drops a lit match into the hearth. The flames start small, flickering faintly in the soot and logs, before they grow larger and hungrier. They lick upwards, consuming the wood with greedy, golden and orange fingers. He stares at them briefly, before gently hooking the kettle onto the metal fireplace hanger. It creaks briefly, whining as if he'd awoken it from it's slumber.

He sighs. What is he doing?

He prepares the tea brick, as he does everyday. Green tea, roasted and faintly kissed by sweet berries. A blend prepared using only ingredients near the temple. The scent wafts up towards him as he pushes the knife through the compressed leaves. He grinds them in the mortar and pestle before slipping them into the kettle to steep. He frowns, listening to the blaze crackle and pop, heating the water to a boil.

Xie looks at his hands. His fingers twitch, as if remembering last night. Recently, even when he sneaks into Val's room, he does not stay until morning. Why is that? It had never bothered him before. His chest tightens when he thinks of his voice, of his tremors, of those lips, glossed with the wetness from his tongue, his fingers threading through his hair, his hips bucking and-

The kettle is whistling. He stands upright abruptly, having been lost in his thoughts. Slipping on the thick furnace glove, he quickly unhooks the kettle and sets it on the side of the darkened brick. He retrieves a tea cup and two wooden coasters in his other hand, then takes the teapot out with him, back into the hallway. It is a short walk to the library. He must hurry. The sun is laughing at him. It watches him dance this same dance, everyday now. Though it keeps his secrets for him, he is sure that it would tell if it had a mouth.

Val always sits in the same place in the study. It is not officially his, but like clockwork, everyone avoids taking it from him. Xie has watched him with careful eyes, time and time again, seeing the man's brow furrow when interpreting a difficult text, and closing his eyes briefly when they are too strained. His lips pressed together in concentration, the faint scratching of his quill against the parchment. Xie sighs. He knows what he is doing, but he will not admit it aloud.

He places the coasters down on the desk, setting the kettle down on one, then the tea cup on the other. He fills the cup. The tea is piping hot and pale green. Xie arranges the books Val had been speaking of searching for in a neat pile, and lays parchment down beside it. He memorized the titles as soon as they'd left the other man's lips.

Then he scoffs, mocking himself. He's being an idiot.

The idiot slips out of the archives unnoticed and is back in his room before anyone sees him. Val always arrives at the study at the same time, so he waits until precisely five minutes afterwards to arrive himself. The faintly pleased look upon the scholar's face makes it all worth it, but he will never tell him that. He bumps the other with his shoulder when passing by, but does not greet him with the other temple-dwellers around. Perhaps it is because he believes that they are not allowed to see such intimacy, how tender a simple hello can be. Perhaps it is because he is afraid of what they will see in his eyes if he lets his guard down.

And yet again, he sits himself back down at his desk, and he yearns to turn around. To look at him. To meet eyes, and to be more.

He steels himself, and buries himself in his studies.

Idiot.

 

[Noctis the Devious]

For Raina is was more of a subconscious thing. It had to be because if she became too close to people her family deemed "wrong" she would be scrutinize. It was what made her avoid interacting with August in public places her family can oversee her actions or hear about, like in Diagon Alley. Yet, still, somewhere along the line, Raina started investing more time in relationships in almost a careless fashion. August, for example, she often sought out what he liked doing and tried to get involved or study with often just to spend time together. Nights spent in the astronomy tower were looked back upon fondly even if some passed by in a near zombie-like state when some last minute craming needed to be done.

Carrow was an odd relationship. The two purebloods weren't friends like August and her were friends, but Raina still tried to land in her orbit. Sometimes she didn't try at all. They had Quiddich in common. They were in separate teams, so it was easy to hide her curiosity behind rivalry and competiveness. Even if the girl got under her skin too easily, it was a relationship Raina wanted to at least try to build and see where it'd go. And if it went up in flames then curiosity sated. Nothing wasn't worth seeing if they had more in common. Of course, they were both friends with August, so I wasn't like they could completely avoid each other either.

O'Neil was another one of August's friends and a quiddich player, so spending time with him was inevitable. She still found herself curious about him beyond that. Fuck the scar, where was he getting all these weird brooms from? Did he have his own personal stash or something? Honestly, anyone who could sneak out after hours was worth knowing; surplus of weird brooms withstanding. Okay perhaps he was someone Raina could get a little carried away with sometimes, and it drove August crazy, be he be the only person she could have (possibly illegal) fun with!

At the end of the day, quality time was her language of love, and it applied to even her platonic relationships. She wasn't a very good gift giver (even if she enjoyed receiving little surprises like chocolates) and well, she's pretty sure she once gave August food poisoning that one time he ate her cooking (never again). A moment together was still priceless to her, even if it was only an insignificant period time in everyone else's eyes.

 

[ino.]

@PavellumPendulum here's your extra content, miss ma'am. happy v day bestie, love you <3

bad with words

Returning to Gooseberry each month had become a routine within her life, at first it was to simply help around two people in need when nobody else lent a hand to do so, though that was now not the only reason Camille found herself awaiting the day to show up. For the past two months or so, her usually cold heart jumped at the thought of spending time with a particular man within the clinic. Was the woman good with words or expressing her feelings? Certainly not, especially when her chest felt full of butterflies each passing second she was there.

What also didn't help was that her specialty was brewing tea, something he couldn't enjoy. There was nothing she could really offer besides her blood, and even then that wasn't something dedicated to him. What the hell did you get a vampire to show your appreciation? While she would normally ask Reese or even Aysa to help bake cookies or something else along the sort, that was another thing he wouldn't be able to enjoy. So, here she sat. In the early hours of the morning within her shared apartment, tiredly scrolling through the internet searching for ideas on subtle yet...meaningful gifts to give another.

Everything she had come across had been so cheesy, cards, handwritten letters, balloons, even composing and performing a song. Though, in a sense, these were all better than straight up saying words of affirmation aloud. For a few moments, the woman even thought about collecting her own blood to gift to him, though that was quickly pushed out of her mind upon realizing the lecture she would be given.

And so, it was a note that was decided, and a small bag of tea to go along with it, even if he wasn't able to enjoy it in the same sense as humans could, it was her line of business, after all.

Another hour or so had passed before the so called "gift" was finished, Camille's roommate helping in making it "extra special" (in her exact words) by applying a wax seal upon the envelope. Ugh, it looked like some sort of confession note from a middle school girl, although in a sense it was a sort of confession, albeit one that Camille was certain would be set aside within the blink of an eye.

Finally, she was able to sleep for the night, she wouldn't be able to take a nap while at the clinic during her donation, that wouldn't be safe in the slightest. Eyes closing as she slipped unconscious, that excitement within her remained until the very second she was drifting into sleep.

And so, came the day of Camille's monthly visit, less talkative than usual with a task in mind - she would have to apologize to Aysa later on and explain what was going on, if she didn't overhear everything of course. Swallowing almost nervously once in the donation room, Camille brought herself right before the man, lips pushed down in a pout.

"You're not good with human traditions, are you,? I'm going to make this quick. Today is a day we express ourselves in...certain ways. You might not think anything of this - and really, I don't expect you to." Extending the so-called gift in one hand in offer to him, the pout pushed into the beginnings of a scowl, more than angry within herself upon how nervous she had become.

"This is for you, happy valentines day, Aries."

 

[XIII]

Well then. My language was quality time. So...here it goes.



Sansa Kortova

She didn't know how to say it as she sat there, staring at the man who had broken the ice that surrounded her heart. 'I love you' didn't portray to Haku the way she felt, and after a long few months being away from him, all she wanted to do was be with him. She stared at his perfect face as she lay next to him, a pale hand moving to brush through his hair. He stirred only slightly, strong arms moving to pull her in tight against his frame. He nestled his face into her bosom, and she held him tight, inhaling his scent deeply as she buried her nose into his hair.
"I missed you." She whispered, and his deep chuckle reverberated through her body.
"You were gone for too long."
"Never again, my love."
These were the moments that were most precious to her; it wasn't the sex or the gifts. It was these moments, laying naked in the silken sheets with nothing but firelight to illuminate their forms that were etched into ber memories. "Never again."

 

[Reanimator Buns]

It was the annual Gala of Mana at the University. By right the honor of the first dance was to go to the winner of Wizard Games and this years Sage King. And for the runner up?... Kess watched from the balcony, his expression grim, his jaw clenched tight. He just knew that bastard was grinning the most shit eating grin. A defeat is a defeat, and usually that was a learning experience, but this? To have his sworn enemy since childhood, who belittled him due to his birth and claimed he'd never amount to anything more than a petty thief irked him more than words could describe.

Kess watched from the balcony, seeing Ilyan taking Markus's hand and bowing made his mind drift. Every cram session, every moment looking through ancient tombs and ruins together as they looked for the source of Mana, all of it had lead to this moment, and it was at the last second he choked, caught off guard, made a predicatable play. And just like that, here he was.

With that Kess left in the middle of the dance. He'd need to wait until next year, assuming the world was still in tact by then. And so, Kess found himself in the library. Maybe there was something he had missed? Of course there wasn't, not if Ilyan was helping. Even as much of a library rat as Kess was, his research habits were far too chaotic to prove fruitful in his searches.

No with that head on her shoulders, there wasn't any way that they missed a book. So why was he here then? He had tried everything. But he couldn't give up yet could he. He could still hear the band playing in the grand hall, but he didn't stop pouring over every tome again and again.

Without Ilyan there he soon found himself surrounded by precarious towers of books all messily strewn about and in danger of collapsing at even the slightest offense. Muttering and murmuring to himself he went to look for another tome. "Wait... Where did I put Faustings Theories on Mana Manipulation 3rd Edition?... This is 2nd... no not..." He nudged a book only slightly and soon the many towers fell on him like dominos with a vendeta. A flurry of profanities and curses called out from the books

"Thats it! I'm going to find a way to sneak that stupid book. He made his way to the library window, pulling out his wand and releasing a small amount of mana from the tip. Just then he heard someone clearing their throat. He looked behind him, dressed in a flowing white and blue gown was Ilyan. "I'd rather you didn't. Things would be pretty boring around here if you were executed. Besides I had something I needed to give you." She pulled out a thin scrap of paper. Kess took it from her and unfurled it. As he read it, his legs grew weak and he fell into the pile of books, as Ilyan winced, knowing there were some weakly bound tomes in there.

"How did... Ilyan this is the final key to the formula!"

"I know. I convinced Markus to take a quick peak at this page for me. Believe it or not Kess, some people are actually effected by a woman's charm."

"I'm not immune." To that Ilyan laughed "Oh please compared to how all the other guys look at me its clear."

"You don't understand do you?" Kess picked himself up and faced her. "You know better than everyone how highly I think of myself. Yet I don't doubt for a second that you're the smartest person there is, probably in the whole University. I've held on to your every word while we sit in here, and how you've whole heartedly gave yourself to help me. And this..." He waved the scrap of paper in his hand, "This makes all that effort I put in worth it."

She laughed. "Hey I put in just as much effort you-" Kess stepped forward and placed his hand on her waist, and took her hand with the other. "W-What are you doing?..." He didn't say anything. There was a waltz playing, muffled in the background, as Kess took a step forward, with Ilyan following. She didn't say anything, nor did he. It was clear, all that solo study? That wasn't for magic. She had managed to pull his mind away from the one thing that had driven him forward his entire life, even if only a short while, and that spoke volumes.

That's 750 words. Oops

 

[MiharuAya]

Ezra Branigan


Even though today was the day of romance, Ezra still wanted to show his love for one of his best friends. He had known Kenji for a while now, and although he still feels a bit of a wall between them, he has grown to truly care about the other. Kenji was always looking out for him, even if he liked to pretend he didn't, and after so many adventures together, it only felt right that he showed his appreciation.

After spending eternity at the local flower shop, Ezra, with the help of a florist, had finally picked out a bouquet of a dozen sunflowers. It was difficult to decide exactly what to get, but he decided on that because when he looked at sunflowers they made him happy, just like Kenji did.

As he left the shop, he climbed into his parent's minivan and pulled out his phone. "Hey! I'm sure your busy, but do you have a sec to meet up?" He decided to leave the message ominous in case Kenji felt awkward about receiving a gift. Though, he also knew that Kenji likely already had someone romantic in his life, so they might not even be able to meet. After all, he was much more attractive and outgoing than Ezra, who had never dated before.

However, even if he was turned down, he still wanted to show his appreciation. Kenji was his dearest friend, and one of the few people he wanted to spend this holiday with. Just the thought of giving him these flowers caused his heart to flutter in his chest. Ezra still didn't understand what it meant, but he still wanted to express the emotion he felt. Hopefully, these flowers would do just that.

When Kenji agreed to meet, Ezra hurried to the bar that he worked at. The drive was long, even though it was truly only a short distance. But as he practiced in his mind what to say, his fingers anxiously tap the steering wheel. His stomach raged with the feeling of butterflies. Although he thought about turning around, running away from this uncomfortable feeling, he persisted.

The bar was crowded with couples, but he quietly pushed his way through. As he reached the bar, his face was a bright red. It felt as if people were staring, and they probably were. After all, he was caring a huge bouquet into a bar. "Hi…" He said meekly over the music. "I- Um… I got these for you." Ezra lifted the flowers over the table, handing them to Kenji with a bashful look. "I'm sure you get a lot…but I wanted to get you some too." He explained softly, glancing around nervously.

"Uh, I wasn't sure what kind you like…so I hope you like them…" Even though Ezra was sure that Kenji was used to receiving much more expressive gifts, he was hoping to make up the price with the thought that he put into it.

 

[Floral Frolic]

I am a simple girl with simple desires, says this quiz;

 

[firejay1]

I've taken this test before long long time ago, and besides Receiving Gifts being second-to-last and Physical Touch being absolute last, I've never had clear results with which ones are most important, the first three are all kinda sorta mixed for me.

Spoiler

As proof, my results from 2016:


And my results from today:

Personally, I think Food would be my fiance's love language. And Shutting Up and Listening would be mine.

Scene

"Yo! Man, since when are you la- woah, what happened to you?!" Ren heard his best friend Jack's voice before he felt the hand on his shoulder, and in the second it took for him to school his expression, he supposed Jack had caught the frown on his face.

"What do you mean what happened to me?" Ren said, expressionlessly, but Jack's look of utter disgust told him he hadn't bought it.

"Nuh-uh, no way. None-uh that, secret ninja spy face your creepyass uncle taught you. C'mon, Ren, I've known you since we were eight. You're never late. And you never take that long to return to base planet Everything is Fine unless it's about she-who-shall-not-be-named." The redhead said, making mocking robot arms as he spoke. "And I mean, you never think about her unless she's in front of your face or I bring her up. So, what is it?"

Ren didn't say anything for a long moment, so Jack bumped his fist against Ren's head. "Helloooo? Anyone home? Looking for my resident robot ninja friend."

It took another long moment, but Jack knew how to deal with his best bud, and waited until Ren finally said, "I'm probably going to regret even asking you shit-for-brains, but if you had a chance... to bring back someone important to you.... but it might not work, could potentially kill them, and release an all-powerful megalomaniac back onto an unsuspecting world, would you do it?"

Jack stared at him for a bit, jaw agape. "Uhh.... So.... that's not what I was expecting."

"Okay, you know what? Forget it. I knew it was stupid to ask you." Ren pushed his friend's face away.

Jack just laughed and slapped his shoulder. "Man, I always knew there was something messed up about your family, and I have no idea what that has to do with some supervillain shenanigans, cause like, I always thought your uncle would turn out to be an evil supervillain, but iono about all-powerful, that sounds like a higher level up."

"Your point?" Ren prompted, rolling his eyes.

"Fine, man, don't bite my head off. Point is, with pretty much anyone else, I'd say do the right thing or whatever shit you're supposed to say, but.... it's you. Criminal Mastermind Ren-whateveritis Yuki." Ren had long since given up trying to get Jack to say his full name correctly, but he got that Jack was trying to actually say something meaningful this time. "I always figured you were crazy enough to risk the world for whatever you wanted, and win, too."

Ren stared at him as if Jack had grown another head. "And if it meant killing my uncle?"

"Oh hey, if that's what it is, can I help?"

Ren started laughing, "You'd be dead so fucking fast, but glad to know you have my back, Jack. I really am."

"'Course." He said, flippantly. "If I didn't have your back, I'd miss out on all the supervillain action."

 

[MaryGold]

It is about high time I contributed to the thread!

I can't believe we have not only been blessed with Spooder showing up but her content too <3

I forgot to take a screenshot of my results, but unsurprisingly I'm one who loves getting handed quality time and acts of service next haha. But I typically deal out acts of service as my love language to others. And I agreed about food being a love language. What better way to connect people.

@Jenamos I had to choose a character and I finally did. I only had to remember the king of saying I love you while making every excuse to not say those exact words. I love my idiots.

Angus | These Hands Were Made for Holding

"Angus! Your boyfriend is here!"

"He's not my boyfriend," grumbled the man, rolling his eyes at the (very incorrect) announcement.

Nonetheless, he was already making his way from the employee's locker room to behind the bar counter. His eyes were solely trained on one particular redhead with a drink already in his hand. The sight of him lightened his step and despite himself, there was already a smile creeping out of him. But it was only when the man turned his head and his eyes locked and he grinned, warmly and unknowingly of how the simple muscle action caused a heart to skip a bit, did Angus return that smile.

The way his eyes shone did nothing to hide his happiness to see Angus. He would never understand it, but he refused to mention it let alone question it. If he did he feared he wouldn't be able to see that look directed at him -- for him again

"I hope you plan on paying for that," he nodded his head toward the glass in Alois's hand. "We're running a business here, not a charity."

"Come oooon, Angy," and so it began. Their consistent ritual of back and forth. What was true and what wasn't hardly mattered, because it was them. And the familiarity of them being as they were together was a comfort and enjoyment in itself.

Alois leaned forward on the counter, he was mustering the best puppy dog eyes he could give. He had gotten very good at it over time. Being the theater kid he was, he was a professional at turning up the theatrics. "I just worked 60 hours this week. My lil' feet ache."

"Which means you should be able to afford it."

He heard the whine of his name seconds before Alois had even parted his lips. While Al only got better at his act, Angus proceeded to get worse at his. He struggled greatly to suppress his smile as he reached for the glass in Al's hand. He only meant to take it and hold it over his head, to tease him, but he brushed against the skin of his hand and was met with a cold sensation. Angus didn't think, he only grabbed his hand instead of the drink.

"Your hand is as cold as ass," Angus frowned, turning the said hand over in his grasp. His thumb brushed along the lines, feeling cold skin.

"Just a few cons of wearing fingerless gloves during February in NYC." The response was too nonchalant and playful.

He didn't reply right away. He was already taking the glass from Alois and wrapping both his hands around Alois. With his thumbs he rubbed soothing, and what he hoped to be warming friction, circles onto his hand. He stopped once to blow warm air onto the slowly thawing hand.
"You know, I can think of better ways to get warm."

He did respond to that comment by gently biting his fingers. The surprised body reaction at his actions was more than satisfactory, but he didn't stop his work there. He continued rubbing his hand and blowing hot air on it for what he assumed to be just a minute But when he felt eyes on him, he came to a halt.

Angus lifted his gaze to come face to face with Alois. There were only a few inches keeping their faces from touching, but as Angus began to speak, their noses bumped. "I think you should be good now."

Alois nodded. He was slow to pull back, but before he could completely leave him, Angus swiftly added. "But just in case, maybe I should." There wasn't a second his eyes left Alois's gray ones. He was teasing, of course, he was teasing, but he never let go of his hand once. "You clearly aren't giving it the attention and care it deserves."

And I'll need that one too. I'm taking custody of both." Angus reached for his other hand and pressed it open-palmed against his cheek. It was cold enough to make him shiver, but it didn't matter when he watched the way Alois's face broke into a grin. That stupid smile flooded him with enough warmth for the both of them.

 

[Peregrine]

@PavellumPendulum

If there were ever two girls who master the art of expressing their love without words, it'd definitely be Saira and Karani.

That Night at the Ball

Karani paused at the edge of the door to the ballroom, taking a slow, steadying breath. For a moment, her fingers rested lightly against the edge of the door, tracing along the edges of gold-embossed carvings.

She would have rather been anywhere other than here. The image of a little bench tucked under a gnarled old banyan tree floated into her mind, the bright smile of a woman seeming to light up the shade.

But there were some duties that simply couldn't be ignored.

A gentle smile spread across her lips, and she carefully fixed the hem of her dark green sari, embroidered with rich saffron flowers. And then she smoothly walked into the ball room.

Everyone's eyes seemed to trace to her as she gracefully crossed the floor, but Karani only had eyes for one person in the room. Saira had tucked herself into a corner, but nothing could hide the way the candlelight seemed to halo her rich brown hair. Their eyes met across the room.

"You look lovely, my dear."

Karani's eyes strayed away, and she smiled warmly as Mother Nazila approached her. The elderly woman extended one hand to her. "Come. The Crown Prince has been waiting for you to accompany him in the opening dance."

"Of course," Karani replied, accepting Nazila's hand. "It would be improper of me to keep him waiting any longer."

Karani could not remember the words the Crown Prince said in praise of her beauty. But she nodded and smiled politely as he took her hand and guided her out onto the dance floor. The other dancers gathered around them like the stars circling around the moon, and all of them began to twirl around the room.

Karani moved with care and grace, following the steps that had been drilled into her every day of her life. There were rules to follow. Obligations to meet.

But every time her gaze passed over one corner of the room, her eyes lingered on the figure. Lingered longer than she should have as she spun on the spot, until her circling body forcibly tore her gaze away. Lingered over the shoulder of the prince, who muttered sweet nothings into her ear. Lingered, as she dipped into her final curtsy, before another man moved up to her side and took her hand.

They couldn't dance together now. Not before all these eyes.

But later that night, they'd sneak out into the gardens and dance together under the shade of the banyan tree.

 

[unanun]

"I'm so sorry, Parv. I'm sorry! I'm just so tired ..."

Parv squeezed her hand. It wasn't the first time they had had this conversation; the first was as their craft parted the ice above New Europa, two-hundred and thirty six years ago. He had said nothing then and squeezed her hand then too. After they decided on the date, she brought it up almost daily, always tearing up, always apologizing. Soon the light above her would switch on and she would return to atoms.

"Oh, how will you manage?" She pulled against his hand to raise herself. "Who's going to look after you? Oh, Parv! You have that appointment tomorrow for your arm … and next month to look at that abnormal waveform. Parv!!"

Parv squeezed her hand, and let her fall back against the bed. He flexed his fingers and stroked her head, thumbing the green confirmation. Thirty seconds. The light came to life.

"Parv …" her eyes were clearer than they had ever been in the past twenty orbits. "Find me again. I will go now and I will come back somewhere out there, free from all this time. Please go out there and find me. You will know!"

The light whited out sight and as it faded, the blanket settled onto the empty mattress and empty hand. Parv turned to the window with only a hint of solitude as the laser pulse shot into space, encoding her final thought. He would travel that direction first, the day after tomorrow, to try to find her again.

Reader's guide?

love can be taking pain so they don't have to. love can also be transferrable; she's telling Parv that anyone out there who can love him is just like her.