#5 times they used physical touch as their love language and one time they understood what it meant or some shit

[sexynetra]

The way they’ve both picked each other up,,, the constant hand and arm holding from both of them,,, all the cuddling and resting their heads on each other’s shoulders,,, Grandekofi’s love language is definitely physical affection

Ough I have a 5 hour flight tomorrow time to buy WiFi and write a ficlet about them showing physical affection because you are so right actually???? The constant touching and cuddling and hand holding and carrying and kissing…. Oh it’s over for us I fear no ship will ever be them

[fear-is-truth]

THE 5 LOVE LANGUAGES 𝔵 JASON TODD

ⓘ love language : a person's characteristic means of expressing and experiencing love. note. got covid so i wrote the majority of this in bed lol

❝ ACTS OF SERVICE ❞ ⸻⸻⸻⸻ ⸻ ﹒

jason’s dominant expression of attachment is through action, often coded as protection. now he doesn’t articulate affection directly, but his decisions (frequently violent, morally ambiguous, or self-endangering) reveal an ingrained instinct to shield others. from early adolescence, he understood that love, if it meant anything, had to be proven with action.

under bruce, he learned to channel this drive into something more structured: protect the innocent, follow through, serve justice. jason internalised that, but filtered it through his own experiences. his ethic of care was shaped by loss, abandonment, and death. to jason, if you care about someone, you fucking do something about it. after the lazarus pit, this trait only intensified; he became more militant about protecting people he saw as his responsibility. this goes without saying that he’ll kill for you—has, and will again. notably, he may reject help from others, perceiving self-reliance as a survival mechanism. when he allows others to assist him, it signifies a very deep trust.

❝ PHYSICAL TOUCH ❞ ⸻⸻⸻⸻ ⸻

complicated. pre-trauma (pre-death), anecdotal evidence suggests jason was physically affectionate. post-resurrection though, physical touch may trigger hypervigilance or dissociation. he’s not exactly avoidant. on some deeper level, he wants it, craves it, even. but only on his terms and without surprise. if he’s letting you touch him, he’s already made a conscious choice. contact tends to trigger fight-or-flight unless it’s from someone he’s mentally filed as “safe.” even then, it takes time because he needs to assess the intent and pattern first. you’ve learned not to startle jason. when you do reach for him, he won’t always meet you halfway, but he won’t stop you either. sometimes, he’ll even lean into it, let your hand cradle his jaw or your knee press lightly against his under the table. when initiated by him, physical touch is always intentional and super rare.

❝ WORDS OF AFFIRMATION ❞ ⸻ ⸻⸻⸻

he generally distrusts verbal assurances. years of emotional inconsistency, perceived abandonment, and betrayal have rendered language hollow in his worldview. when someone tries to express affection verbally, his first instinct is suspicion. compliments may be deflected or mocked. and when he does offer verbal affection, it’s often oblique—dry humor, begrudging respect, dark jokes. moments of direct affirmation are intensely vulnerable and often framed through anger or defiance (e.g., “i never stopped caring, that’s the problem”). receiving affirmation may cause him visible discomfort, though it still registers.

❝ RECEIVING GIFTS❞ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

selective, but significant. the paperback you tracked down (the out-of-print edition he’d mentioned only once, in passing.) the gloves you left folded on the counter after noticing the ones he wore were splitting at the seams. jason doesn’t view objects as inherently meaningful—he doesn’t assign value to things, only to the intent behind them. he’s not effusive in return. most of what he gives is pragmatic, given without ceremony or explanation. a stun gun mysteriously appears in your bag after he walked you home one night. a second helmet on his motorbike. his hoodie folded on your bed because he’s seen you shiver in the mornings and doesn’t want you to have to ask.

when it isn’t strictly practical, it still has function. a dog-eared copy of the latest novel he read—left on your nightstand, filled with underline passages and margin notes that read like he’s talking directly to you. his gifts are silent acknowledgments: i see you. you matter to me.

❝ QUALITY TIME ❞ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

jason’s used to solitude. silence doesn’t unsettle him—it’s the baseline. you people either stick around or they don’t. most don’t. being around him isn’t easy, he’s aware of that too. if you choose to stay near him, you’re exposing yourself to his volatility, the sharp edge that never fully dulled. it’s not an easy choice to make.

he doesn’t require conversation. half the time, jason prefers the silence. he’s comfortable with proximity without pressure (e.g., watching crappy TV, eating takeout on a fire escape etc.)

the more time you spend with jason consistently, the more he lets down the armor. not all at once of course; but in increments. when he starts talking unprompted—thoughts he normally keeps to himself, tidbits of his past.

 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑-𝐈𝐒-𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 2025 — do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content. ꕀ

[tannedalien]

HAZBIN HOTEL X READER HC #1

Head canon: what it would be like to date them.

characters: Alastor, angel dust, husk, vox

disclaimer: everything i write about these characters might not be accurate to the actual story, please take everything in the fic with a grain of salt, none of this is canon!!

Alastor

he hasnt been in an actual relationship in a while so being close and vulnerable with someone is quite hard for him, especially as someone who associates emotions with weakness.

First off, its safe to say he adores the ground you walk on. He's in love with everything about you, your clothes, the smell of your hair, your sickly sweet voice. his loves it all.

If there was ever a problem you needed fixing, a person you needed taken care of or even a errand you needed to run he would tend to it himself. he would not let you lift a finger.

PDA is a iffy thing for him, he wouldnt do grand big gestures but maybe a hand on the hip or a few words of affirmation.

everyone in the pride ring quickly learned of yours and radio demon's relationship. And no one dared to mess with you, ofcourse there was people who wanted to test their luck but they would have to pay the price later.

his love language is definitely words of affirmation, he will sweet talk the shit out of you. At night when it's just you two in bed, he will have his hands stroking through your hair whilst you rant to him about your day and he'll reply with sweet nothings

"oh darling, i've missed you all evening"

"you looked ravishing today my dear.."

"mm your hair smells amazing, my love"

Angel Dust

Angel is one of, if not, the horniest mother fuckers out there but somehow, he manages to somewhat make a healthy relationship with someone.

you two are seen as "the bad bitch" couple. you're always out together, always getting into dumb shit together. You'll get yelled at by vaggie at early hours in the morning because the two of you where playing a childish game of tag in the hotel halls.

his love language is definitely physical touch, he'll have his arms slung around your waist almost all the time. Kisses are a MUST every 5 minutes, like this boy will NOT part from you. especially in the mornings when you have to leave for work;

"mmnnnnoooooooo...stayyy for five minutes pleasseeeee"

"but sweets..you're soooo warm"

"sweetheart please, you feel so comfy"

yeah good luck with that.

nights with him are VERY eventful, if it wasn't obvious. You two would usually be at it late hours into the night but sometimes, when you two where too exhausted to fuck like rabbits, he would be sprawled across your lap whilst you stroked his fur.

Husk

Despite his harsh tone and uncompromising demeanor, you understood that Husk wasn't trying to be malicious towards you. It was simply his way of communicating, and you knew that his behavior wasn't personal. Even though he could be abrasive at times, you loved him for his rough edges and authentic personality

You and Husk's time together was mostly spent at the bar. You didn't like to drink much, but you loved seeing him work and make cocktails like a pro. You didn't mind that it wasn't considered a typical date, because you liked spending time with him in whatever way he felt most comfortable.

Husk is not used to receiving compliments, as he didn't often receive them in his past life. When you complimented him, it caught him off guard and he was surprised. But he eventually learned to appreciate it, and it even made him feel a little sentimental.

Despite the difficulty, you were able to help Husk realize that you genuinely cared about him. He had been used to being surrounded by dishonesty and hypocrisy, but you were always sincere and real. He held you in high regard, as you were the only source of light in his life, and he didn't want to lose you.

vox

You were known as a strong and independent person who didn't need assistance from others. You knew how to stand up for yourself, despite being harsh and tough at times. Despite your exterior, no one was aware of the soft spot in your heart that Vox's affection and touch alone could melt away your severity.

He appreciated seeing your affectionate side, as it felt special and intimate, like a shared secret between the two of you. He knew you valued your privacy, and he respected it by never sharing photos or other details on social media. He didn't want to betray your trust.

You were often feared and respected when you were with Vox. People found it hard to believe that someone as intimidating as yourself could have a tender, caring side that was kept hidden from most. Vox was glad that he was the only one who got to see that side of you. He didn't want to share something so special and personal with anyone else.

Quite often, he would call you on the phone, knowing that sweet words could be just as effective as a kiss. He enjoyed hearing how your voice softened from its usual seriousness to a more affectionate tone. He was aware that when he said loving phrases to you, you would blush and smile shyly, and sometimes he even regretted not being able to witness it in person.

"i've missed you today babe.."

"mhm look at my pretty girl/boy!"

[buff-muffin]

List of Doflamgingo and Corazon headcanons cause doomed siblings

1. Both brothers have extremely expressive eyes, they got them from their father. You can always tell what their thinking by looking at their eyes. Dofi was aware of this from a young age realising he could never tell what his brother was thinking because his hair covered his eyes. So he started wearing sunglasses. This kept him from being readable and stuck with him all the way to adulthood. This however also impacted Rosi as the entire time he works under Dofi he wears glasses to not let his intentions be read and thoughts understood, but the second hes with Law alone after finding out hes a D he took them off and let himself be readable for Law if it made the boy feel safe.

2. Doflamingo was always rather strong for a child and that came from helping his younger brother out. There were countless times where Rosi wanted to hold his hand yet when he tripped he would drag Dofi down with him. So he got strong enough to be able to pull his brother back up and not be taken down with him

3. Rosi was super clingy when he was small. Before and after they suffered on the streets, physical touch was such a love language for him, Dofi while never fully comfortable with it, was always sure to hold him… Now Corazon hardly even leans on him. It makes an old wound of Dofi’s ache

4. When Corazon first reunited with Dofi and he had time to process the fact his brother had gone MUTE after what happened years ago. Dofi wasnt sure what to think. While he felt no guilt for what he did and put his brother through a part of him feels almost pity, thinking his crybaby of a brother managed to scavenge around on the streets and survive without uttering a word. He felt pity, maybe remorse yet pride. That his bumbling younger brother had grown strong

5. One thing Dofi found odd about Cora was why he didnt use sign language despite being mute. When asked Cora explained that he never found a reason to bother learning. After all its not like people are going to go out of their way to learn sign for a random hungry kid on the streets. Dofi made sure all the family knew basic and needed signs so his brother could communicate needs quicker. Things like ‘help’ ‘thank you’ and names.

6. The sign Dofi used to symbolise corazon wa s a fist over the heart that he would clench twice to mimic a heart beat. It always gave a twicted idea of squeezing a heart. Law on the other hand would knock on his chest slightly to the left as if to knock on his own heart, this was because on minion island it was getting hard for him to clench his fists and found that sign far easier. Cora loved it.

7. As much as Cora’s muteness made things more complicated. There was a power aspect of it that Doflamingo enjoyed. There was something about the fact he knew that that no matter how bad shit would get Cora wouldnt speak and he would not tell anyone of their life before hand made him feel powerful, in control. Cora could be kept on a close tight leash and that, in the end was the biggest reason he doubted Corazon to be the traitor. He truly though if his brother could not speak there was no way he could help the marines. Though the longer he was there and the realisation of his capability and strength slowly made him doubt that logic. Until he left and the marines stopped.

8. When they were children, Dofi was still a rather stuck up and serious kid, always waiting for the day he was an adult and could take charge. Rosi however was the only one who could make him laugh. It was this dark spell his brother always had in his back pocket. The faces he pulled, the little shows he put on all of it made Dofi laugh. Rosi pulled out all those same tricks to make Law laugh

9. It took Rosi a really long time to stop flinching at the sound of gun shots. While Sengoku was a reasonable parent and did not put Rosi though any kind of intense training until he was ready for it. Gunshots was one of the hardest things to help the boy overcome.

10. Rosi was always a quite kid. He was never particularly chatty or asked a lot of questions. Usually just making squeaks when he fell. But after what happened he was mute for a while with Sengoku. Afraid to speak up as his brother had found him weak for making noises crying. It took him a while and Sengoku was willing to work with him when he didnt speak, but Rosi found his voice and started speaking though still never often, When he ate the calm-calm fruit not much had changed in the talking regard

11. Rosi has used the calm bubble to scream and cry once in the privacy in his own room. Yes he knew what he signed up for as Doflamingo’s corazon. But that didnt mean his heart didn’t ache whenever he had to take lives or threatening innocence

12. Every time he had call check ins with Sengoku, Rosi’s voice would crack just a little, the lack of use taking its effect on his voice. Even Law heard it once or twice in the start of them travelling together.

13. Corazon originally had an identical feathered coat as Dofi, but between the fact it no longer made doflamingo look like the one on top, and Cora kept accidently burning the feathers. They switched him to black. Now no one can see the burn marks unless you really look

[lucid-loves]

First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 7

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 3k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, smut, virgin reader, praising, kisses, teasing, cunnilingus, hickeys, drool, begging

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.

Chapter Synopsis: Fuck it. You strip for him. But not all good things can last forever. (SMUT ALERT)

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9

You are a grown woman. What were you waiting for? The dream for someone special to you to take your first time was right here smiling at you. Teasing you. Decorum be damned. If you let the opportunity pass now, you may never get a chance again. Especially not if you were going to be locked away again once this was all over with.

Taking the bottom hem, you lifted your blouse off to reveal a rather intricately laced bra. For a moment, your bodyguard was reminded that you were a real princess. To you, it was just your regular underwear that was part of your wardrobe on a daily basis. You yourself have forgotten that such underwear could only be purchased by people that came from money.

And god damn, did it look great on you. Conforming to your natural shape, flattering against your skin, soft to the touch. Simon gulped hard, taking it all in. He was half-expecting you to have refused. His intense staring made your blush creep all the way up to your ears. 

“Wh-What?” You stuttered, beginning to get self-conscious under his gaze. Your hands instinctively moved to cover your chest, but your bodyguard caught them at an alarming speed. 

“Don’t. Let me look.” He rasped, burning the image into his mind. 

Was it normal to stare at someone this much during sex? Your cheeks turned pinker, finding yourself getting more embarrassed by the second. 

Finally, your bodyguard stripped off his shirt, revealing a mix of hard muscles, soft strength, and scars. Now you understood the appeal of staring. You couldn’t help but notice every inch of his skin. The way his chest rose and fell steadily yet heavily. The way his scars made him look so masculine. Your heart beat wildly against your ribs, matching the subtle bounce on his pec.

He smirked at your admiration, happy that you seemed into his body just as much as he was into yours. Knowing you, you have probably never seen a man’s body like this. It thrilled him. Raising your hands to his chest, he placed them flat against his skin. You could feel the thrumming of his heart against your fingertips. “Your partner should want you to touch them too.”

Your breath hitched as you noticed the aroused glimmer in his eyes. His words echoed in your head as you moved your hands along his muscles, feeling them flex with each shuttering breath. 

Both of you were becoming undone. A lesson between two adults quickly becoming more passionate, more real as boundaries became blurred. You had wanted to feel those muscles since the moment you met him. To see his scars and tattoos uncovered. Entrusted to you just as you entrusted your body to him. 

The air became hot and heavy, Simon hovering closer to taste those sweet lips on his again. Fingers worked to unhook your bra, feeling each shiver travel down your spine with each swipe of his tongue against yours. A droplet of drool slowly dripped from the corner of your mouth as his passionate kisses turned you into a mess. Once your bra was loose, he tossed it to the side. 

Simon wasted no time to feel up your breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth while the other was pinched between his thick fingers. You gasped and moaned at the sensation, a pleasurable heat spreading throughout you at a rapid pace like a fever. Warm, wet tongue lathered your nerves making your brain turn to mush. 

Fuck, his tongue felt so good! Fingers raked through his hair as he worked your chest, electricity running through you nonstop. You almost didn’t hear his praises. “So beautiful, Princess. You like this a lot, don’t you? I wonder. . .”

Just as he trailed off, he bit down on your perked bud, making you release a melodic moan to the sudden roughness. Arching your back, your body begged for more. Without thinking, he planted his lips down on your soft tits to leave a hickey.

Your legs pressed together tightly, feeling your cunt cry from his rough kiss marks. He noticed how you trembled underneath him. How you whimpered and ached for some friction against your excited pussy. It filled him with an unbelievable amount of desire. 

He began leaving more marks on you. Feverishly. Possessively. “They should want to claim you. Make you theirs with as many hickeys as your body could handle.”

“Si- Ahh~!” You cried out, his hand slipping past your panties to feel just how wet you were getting. Uncontrollable shutters passed as he spread your wetness around, all over your delicate clit. You could feel him smile with pride against neck. 

“Such a cute princess, getting so wet. Is this from masturbating earlier? Or is this all from me?” Simon whispered, knowing how much his voice was turning you on. 

You breathlessly tried to retort back, feeling like he was enjoying teasing you a little too much. “I-It’s not nice to tease a princess. . .”

Nothing turned him on more than when you showed him your defiant side. God, he nearly lost his composure when you fired back those words he loved hearing the first time you said it. It made him want more. 

More of the real you. 

After stripping his pants, leaving him in only sculpting briefs, Simon took your bottoms off and spread your legs. You only managed to get a glimpse of his bulge, but you could tell it was huge. Throbbing. Yet, he neglected himself to further satisfy you. And to make your heart race faster with more playful conversation. “Your partner should know what you really mean when you say things like that. You’re soaked like this because of me, huh? You can be honest.”

You struggled to find your next response as he trailed kisses down your thighs, his blond stubble tickling more than stinging. All you could really manage to do was use his name as a warning. Your heart can’t take much more. “Simon. .”

He froze as you said his name for the first time. Not only that, you said it so desperately. So scoldingly. Fuck, he wanted to make you scream. He wanted to turn his princess into a complete mess. “I want you to admit how good it feels. If it means being a little mean, then so be it.”

You noticed how openly he admitted what he wanted. Not what some imaginary, future partner would want. What Simon wanted. The words you really wanted to hear went to your head quickly just as he dragged his tongue along your slick slit. Stars flashed before your eyes as he devoured you. Tastebuds pressed against your clit, tasting how sweet you tasted. How turned on you were. You bit your lip hard and whined.

More. He wanted you to let go. “Tell me, what were you masturbating to earlier? Be honest with me. The porn?”

“N-No. . Ahh~! Nn!” You sighed, hands clutching the sheets in a death-grip at all the pleasure your bodyguard was giving you with just his mouth. He licked your folds slow, making sure you could feel every second of the electrifying sensation. The tip of his tongue twirled against your tingling entrance.

“Are you refusing to tell me?” Simon chuckled, adoring the thought of you trying to defy him more. His cock began to feel painful being stuck in his briefs. He so desperately wanted to finally take you. To see how much longer you could be defiant if he was fucking you good. Gentle, but nice and deep and so slow that you would have no choice but to beg for more.

Not yet, though. He wanted the princess to be honest first before the reward. You picked up on this quickly as he slowed the flicks of his tongue against your clit, keeping you away from a close orgasm. You threw your head back in frustration. “S-Simon. . .”

“You don’t have to be so proper right now. . . You would still be my princess.” He promised, suckling on your twitching pearl before taking it gently between his teeth. You gasped so hard that you nearly choked. 

“I-I thought about. . . you. . .” You swallowed, your legs shaking like autumn leaves as you only leaked more of your natural honey with each lick. Fuck, you were losing your mind. You were so close. 

“What about me? Tell me, Princess. Tell me how much you wanted me to make you feel good.” He encouraged, drinking you up like it was the best thing he’s ever tasted. Your flavor made his own head spin in arousal. He couldn’t help but get off on just how excited he was making you. He could feel you so close to climaxing too. It was hot against his tongue. 

Just a little more. Just a little more of his groans sending vibrations through you. Just a little more of his heated breath fanning your skin. Tears formed at the corner of your eyes. You were salivating. 

Finally, you caved. You didn’t care how dirty you sounded. You needed to cum and you needed to cum now. “I-I. . . wanted you to make me feel good, Simon! Since our first kiss! S-Simon! It feels so good! Don’t stop~!”

He wanted to hear you say it, though he wasn’t expecting to say it like that. You were too honest for him. It made his brain short-circuit for a moment. “Fuck, you are too cute, Princess.”

He buried himself completely in you, eating you out with everything he’s got. His hands squeezed your thighs tight, forcing you to keep your legs open while he enjoyed the meal. You twitched hard against him, whole body quaking as he brought you closer. 

Without thinking, you grabbed his hair and pulled. It startled him at first, but Christ, did he love it. This was exactly what he wanted. To make you a complete mess. 

“Aaah~! Hahh~! S-Simon!” You screamed through your orgasm, body tight before snapping like a string. It was unlike anything you’ve felt before in your life. It was lightning striking your cells. It was losing your vision through stars and tears. It was. . .

Being in love with Simon Riley. 

Letting you catch your breath from such a strong orgasm, Simon sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He relished the sight of you. Your cute tears. Your satisfying quivers. Your clear breathlessness. 

God, all the hickeys he left on your chest. You were absolutely perfect to him. “Y/n. . .”

Simon was ready to take you. To take you and be a part of your life no matter what the future entailed. Even if the mission was over, if you had to return to your world without him, if you were to be someone else’s, he would have forever marked you here and now. 

Just as he prepared to take off his briefs, he heard a subtle noise coming from the living room. Hot blood turned to ice. Heart dropped back into the darkest pits of hell. What was once playful smiles and earth-shattering pleasure was now sharp focus and nerve-racking fear. 

He cursed at himself for dropping his guard so much. Above anything, he was supposed to keep you safe. How could he keep you safe if he was between your legs?

You noticed his serious expression. You knew it was an emerging regret for the intimacy you both shared at the very least. He kept his expression mostly unreadable when he got this quiet and serious. Yet, you could see it in the quick light in his eyes. You were too observant for him to have hid it. A hard, heavy pain invaded your body as you feared that this was truly a mistake. “S-”

“Shh.” He snapped harsher than he meant to. He would apologize to you later. Now, he had to make sure it was safe. 

Silently, he got up from the bed, slipped back on his jeans and skull mask, grabbed the knife from his back pocket, and crept close to the bedroom door. You wrapped the blanket tight around you as you realized what was going on. Now, you felt stupid too. You lost against desire, and now the both of you could be in danger. 

Just as quietly, you began to get dressed again, hands shaking as you buttoned your pants. Your bodyguard had just slipped out to sweep the house and you hoped that he would find no one. 

You couldn’t have been more wrong. A single gunshot fired from the kitchen followed by heavy thumps as bodies hit the floor. Your body froze in fear, tears brimming as the worst thought put you in a chokehold. You waited for another sound. An indication that Simon was okay. That it wasn’t his body that dropped dead just now. 

A few seconds that felt like an eternity had passed. Pure silence. Silence that haunted you to your core. 

What broke the silence was your scream as two masked men broke down the bedroom door. Wood splintered off and scattered to the floor from the forced entry. You backed into the corner, shrinking back as they attempted to grab you. 

“No! Don’t touch me! Ghost!” You shrieked, crying for your bodyguard to save you even though you felt like this was all your fault. That it was your fault that he was probably dead.

The men took your arms and attempted to drag you out of the room. Yet, even now, you could be a defiant princess. You kicked and screamed, struggling to break free from being captured. Your voice quickly became broken as you cried your head off. “STOP! GHOST! NO PLEASE!”

Sick of your noise, one of the men backhanded you hard, sending you to the floor. You’ve been slapped before. By your own mother in fact. But it was never as hard as this. This hit made you blackout for a minute. This hit made your head throb in pain. It was enough to make you quiet for a moment. 

Until you saw your bodyguard’s slumped body against the kitchen counter. Blood was dripping down his chest out of the side of his mask. A deep crimson stained the fabric before the cloth couldn’t hold any more of it. 

You called for him. You begged for him to wake up with tears dripping down your bruising cheek. “Ghost. . . Please. . .”

With no energy left in your limbs to fight, you were lifted from the hard floor and dragged out of the house. You sobbed as they threw you into the back of the car you had ridden in to get to the safehouse. You curled up against the window as they began to drive. 

You blamed yourself for everything as they called their boss.

~

As soon as Simon woke back up, panic set in. It all came back to him in a flash. The noise from the living room. The man in the kitchen. Getting him with the knife. The gun going off as he dropped. Another man in the corner of his eye. Another striking him against his head. 

He groaned in pain and clutched his head. Getting up made all his bones ache. Still, he was only worried about you. “Princess?! Princess!”

Forcing himself to his feet way too fast, everything spun in a nauseating whirl. “Y/n!”

Stumbling out the door, he gazed out to see nothing but countryside for miles. Tire tracks were hours old. The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon line, the sky turning into a purple dawn. For the first time in his life while on duty, Ghost’s hand’s began to shake in fear. His breath became sharp like a knife. 

He couldn’t believe he lost you. 

Sorrow and regret was met with pure rage. Pure hatred for the men that took you away, that were doing God knows what to you right now. He could kill them with his bare hands. 

And he will.

Heading back inside the house, he tore the books off the shelves to use the hidden cell-phone. As it rang, he geared up with his military gear and began to walk out near the trees. Memorized coordinates led him to a motorcycle that was hidden behind unruly bushes. 

“Lieutenant?” Price picked up, knowing that if Ghost was using the emergency phone, then something terrible must have happened. Just when they were so close to finding the leader of this threatening uprising.

“She’s been taken. Missing for about three hours. It’s my fault and I plan to take full responsibility. They took the car, but they could have switched vehicles.” He steeled his voice, his soldier training taking over in full swing. 

“We will talk about what happened later. Right now, we will all look for her. We will get her back safe. Get to the nearest city and we will have a chopper for you.” Price directed, also letting his leadership take the reigns. 

“Yes, Captain.” Ghost confirmed before hanging up. The cycle roared to life and kicked up dirt as he drove faster than he has ever driven before. 

He would get you back safe. No matter what it took.

***

Is it bad that I blushed when I was writing this? 😳

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twenty-One

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I hope life hasn't been too terrible for y'all while I've been gone xD. While on this little vacation, I realized I have Computer Vision Syndrome (CVS). I know that sounds silly, but it actually really fucking sucks. When I write for a long period on my laptop screen (like 5 hours), I get awful eye pain, headache, migraines, blurred vision, vertigo, and nausea. I've learned different tips and tricks to help with it, so I'm doing much better. Thank y'all so much for letting me enjoy my break, and happy reading! 

P.S. Updates will still be Sun/Mon.

Chapter Warnings: 0-100 real quick but with sexism, extreme anti-bastard language, minor ableist language, panic attack.

"My blood is red and unafraid of living, beginning to end.

I'm liquid smooth, come touch me too,

And feel my skin is plump and full of life, I'm in my prime.

I'm at my highest peak.

I'm ripe, about to fall, capture me."- Liquid Smooth, Mitski.

Surprisingly, life had proceeded smoothly after your tumultuous reappearance at Kings Landing. You expected more hardships to come, but astonishingly, they had yet to arrive.

However, becoming used to Aegon's advances took time. Following like a lost puppy everywhere you went, never far from his beloved little Princess. Much to your chagrin, people began to group you and the wastrel prince as a pair. Where one was, the other was sure to be.

Queen Alicent had dubbed you Aegon's keeper, ensuring he was not frequenting the Silk Streets and gambling houses as he once did. Playing the role of the Prince's Mother wasn't enjoyable at first, but you understood how much of an advantage this was, and a part of you grew to like it. It was the only sturdy aspect in your life, comforting and tending to Aegon's needs like a nursemaid, and should questions arise from your frequent sightings within the eldest son's apartments, the Queen herself would explain the rumors away.

Alicent prayed to the Seven that providing close contact with Aegon would convince you to see her reasons behind the line of succession and sway you to believe them. Even if that didn't work, she still found a way to control her scoundrel of a son and keep the blanket of shame from lying upon their backs. The Queen did not worry herself about the idea that her son might attempt to corrupt you. She was sure that if Aegon tried anything, you would physically overpower him and that her son's poor, borderline misogynistic words he called flirting would not work on a sensible woman like you.

Alicent had yet to inform her father of the schemes she concocted, and Lord Otto Hightower grew wary of the Bastard Princess and the Drunken Prince's time together. He knew of your loyalty to your family and how you believed with your entire soul that destroying centuries' worth of tradition and precedent would better the realm. By putting Rhaenyra on the throne, a girl he watched grow into a woman uncaring of duty, you would somehow prove yourself better than your worth.

But that was not how things were. That was not how dynasties secured their reign for millennia.

Upon reflecting on the situation, Otto realized he couldn't separate Aegon from you, for he was permanently attached to your hip. He needed someone under his thumb that you deemed trustworthy. Perhaps a knight that you respected and felt a familiarity with?

Otto summoned Ser Arryk to his study during the moment of realization. He tasked the Kingsguardmen to become your protector in the Red Keep regarding your newly appointed status as Small Council member. Lord Hightower knew it was a lie, and he understood you would too, but was comforted by the notion that Ser Arryk would accept this task with duty, honor, and integrity and would not fail him.

Yet, Arryk's reports back to him were trivial. He gave the Hand information he already knew and, at moments, even made him doubt putting the White Cloak to the task. The only thing that sparked Otto Hightower's interest was how many letters departed from the Rookery. At one point, when the Lord was genuinely desperate, he opened a letter addressed to Dragonstone, hoping to find something, anything that would give him that edge, but was greeted with a language he didn't understand and hot embarrassment for having been caught by the newly appointed Grand Maester Orwyle after the death of his predecessor.

But it was no matter, the Hand told himself. He learned how to wait. Otto Hightower spent many years playing a game no one else knew they were in and had not failed yet, for his daughter was crowned Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, and his grandson was in line to inherit the Iron Throne. Otto Hightower had to be patient, as he always was, and everything would fall into place.

***

The eldest Prince's head rested in your lap, his violet orbs following the shapes of the white cotton clouds in the afternoon sky. You watched Princess Helaena search for bugs on the underside of leaves, quietly humming to yourself a song Rhaenyra had sung to you on many occasions.

You had just finished picnicking with him, Helaena, and her children, the tots handed to a nursemaid after little Jaehaerys fell asleep in your arms. It was a request by Aegon to his sister-wife to have them all for lunch. An idea you planted in his head that initially did not include a third person, but upon Aegon's manipulation Helaena allowed you to come—explaining something about how good you were with his son and that it would be practice for when you made the eternal sacrifice that was the act of raising children. Helaena immediately brightened at the notion of you possibly bringing more babes into the Keep and agreed immediately.

A nuzzling sensation on your stomach stole you from your contented trance, looking down to see Aegon pressing his nose into the crevice where your stomach overlapped the apex of your thighs. He continued the movements as you glanced over to Helaena, ensuring she was still distracted by the pair of mating green beetles she found.

"Aegon," you chastised, cocking a brow at the burrowing Prince. "Your wife is standing ten and five paces from us."

"And?" he prompted, nipping at the thin golden fabric of your natural waistline.

"And she could suddenly become disinterested in the pair of breeding insects and see her lord husband burying his face into the navel of another woman," you snapped, slightly curling your lip as your fingers glided over his scalp.

"Helaena would not care. She is my sister," Aegon flippantly retorted, his words muffled by your gut.

You rolled your eyes, the ring of purple shimmering in the Spring daylight and momentarily distracting Aegon. "She is your wife by law and the divine. 'Tis an insult for you to be so openly disrespectful of your ties," you answered cooly.

The Prince groaned, the noise muffled by silk and flesh as he moved his hands, swiftly palming at your breasts before he sat upright.

"Your observations are always appreciated, little one, but I believe those skills could be put to better use," he teased, giving your tits another squeeze as you stifled a squeal before separating to a proper distance.

"Rotten prince!" you whispered heatedly to Aegon, glancing at Helaena again.

He snickered in response, taking a swig of the imported strawberry mead from Drone to hide his smirk. "I seem to remember you calling me a different name last night." He gulped down the drink, releasing a satisfied exhale. "What was it again? Good boy? My sweet Prince?" He feigned forgetfulness, gazing into the blue sky with a stubby digit tapping his chin. "Oh, that's right! I remember now! 'Twas-"

You launched across the patterned blanket the servants had placed and tackled Aegon, covering his mouth with your fist as he squealed like a captured piglet. He wriggled like one as you attempted to punch his cherubic cheeks, legs straddling his torso.

Suddenly, your name was called, startling you and causing your hands to move from Aegon's body and rest your weight fully atop his waist. You feared the worst. Helaena, furious at you and storming over to have you escorted from Kings Landing for your scandalous actions, destroying your plans.

"Please, don't hurt him too badly," Helaena said, still focused on the beetles. "I am certain whatever caused this isn't worth murdering him over, but if you must..." She trailed off, turning her hand over as the emerald bug crawled across the back of it. "I have not seen anything."

It took a few blinks to realize she was jesting. Her monotone, almost dreamy voice did not indicate if she was. A hint of a smile graced Helaena's thin, peony lips, a devilish glint within your eyes as you bent your knees to attack.

"Devious women! Evil women, the lot of you!" Aegon cursed in faux protest, wrestling his arms with yours as a grin split your face.

And that was how Ser Arryk found you, straddling the eldest son of the King as you rolled over the top of each other like fighting wolves, kicking the large wicker basket to his feet on accident. He cleared his throat as he reached you, Aegon using the distraction to his advantage as he flipped you over onto your stomach, mouth centimeters away from your neck.

"Princess," Ser Arryk interrupted awkwardly. Aegon deflated against you at the sound of his voice, resting his forehead on your shoulder in defeat.

"Good afternoon Ser Cargyll," you chirped, trying to control the blush that crept across your cheeks. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"

Arryk's gaze flickered to the protruding flesh of your bosom before swiftly averting his eyes to the blooming shrubs. He cleared his throat again, the notch bobbing as he swallowed.

"The Hand has ordered a meeting of the King's Council, your Grace. 'Tis an urgent matter," he answered, his back ramrod straight.

You sighed in acknowledgment, using your palms to arch your body and shove Aegon off, his short nails catching on the embroidered beads of your dress. He groaned in annoyance as he flopped onto the ground dramatically, reminding you of Jaehaerys during one of his tantrums.

Righting yourself, you smoothed the golden fabric of your gown, which Helaena commissioned for you as a Maiden Day gift and finally felt appropriate enough to wear. You nodded at the Kingsguardmen, walking a few paces before turning to face Helaena and Aegon, the latter pouting like the spoiled boy he was.

"I apologize that our picnic must be shortened, my Prince and Princess. I'm sure we could meet for supper if that is feasible," you offered with a tilt of your head.

Helaena nodded, strolling over to her sulking brother as she nudged him with her slippered foot.

Arryk observed the interaction as he waited, his eyes trailing to places of sin. The way your flowing silk dress hugged your skin, the white pearls on the neckline complimenting your intricately styled ebony hair. Bronze beads were sewn on the gold fabric in a way that reminded him of a weeping willow, the same little balls threaded into your thin sleeves in a swirling pattern. His gaze danced over your curves next, your hips, waist, arse, anything he could see before you faced him once more, a brilliant smile on your lips.

Shame ran hot through his veins as he made contact with Aegon, his eyes dark and stare piercing. Arryk had only seen looks like that from men set to battle, hardening themselves for imminent slaughter. He knew of the Prince's quick anger, a secondhand source of it from his brother. Whatever Aegon was thinking, or more so planning, Ser Arryk didn't want to be a victim of.

He quickly turned, making his way towards an entrance of the Keep without regarding the sole reason he came. You watched Ser Cargyll's retreating form, throwing a perplexed look at Helaena and Aegon before following him, the string of pearls around your waist swaying with the movement.

Once you both were far enough away from the Godswood, you stood in Arryk's pathway, hands on your hips.

"Why did you leave so abruptly? 'Tis hardly proper as a member of the Kingsguard to turn your back on his kin," you interrogated.

"My apologies, Princess," Arryk bowed, muscles tense.

Your face soured, cringing at the emotionless sound of his voice. "None of that," you waved your hands, dismissing the subject. "Twas odd, is all. I've never seen you act in such a way before. It concerns me." You paused, pursing your lips as you glanced at the cracked red stone floors, moving closer to him. "Did Lord Hightower inform you why the meeting was called? Is that the reason for your callousness?"

Ser Arryk swallowed the lump in his throat that formed while watching your concerned face scrunch, the violet in your eyes becoming larger as your pupils shrunk in the daylight. He couldn't answer your questions truthfully without knowing your relationship with Aegon, redirecting the conversation to something more comfortable.

"I am unaware of the reason," Arryk answered instead, his posture still tense as he spoke. "It's rather unusual for the Hand to do this, no?" He noted the brief scowl that pulled your mouth, tucking your lips in to nibble at them.

"Yes. You are correct, Ser Cargyll," you nodded, pivoting on the balls of your feet as you proceeded with your journey. "It unnerves me greatly if you do not mind me speaking freely." You glanced at him in your peripherals. He encouraged you to continue, following a respectable distance. "The last time something like this happened, Grand Maester Mellos passed, and Mother encouraged me to have her Maester put forth. 'Twas humiliating when Lord Hightower said it was the Citadel's decision, not the King's."

You pinched the bridge of your nose at the memory, shame, and regret burning your ears to this day. Ser Arryk chuckled at your recollection and, without thinking better of it, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as a friend or companion would. He recoiled faster than a striking snake once he realized, clenching his fist behind his back in abashment.

You peered at him curiously with a raised brow, assessing the situation. The knight had forgotten himself, acting more of an acquaintance than a protector. Some of you wanted to dismiss what happened and brush it off as a mistake anyone would make when spending nearly every waking moment with someone. Still, the other more intellectual side saw the opportunity that had just presented itself, and who were you to ignore it?

In your hopes that it was amicable, a grin crossed your face, hooking your opulent arm with his armored one, encouraging him to keep walking and that you weren't offended by his actions. You continued your conversation as if nothing had happened, explaining to him more times that you made a fool of yourself during court and your anxiety with the impending Lords you were about to face. Arryk listened intently, offering consoling words each time you finished, eventually loosening his flexed muscles. Once you were a few paces away from the Council Chambers, you parted from Ser Cargyll with a polite smile, asking him to wait outside the doors until the meeting was done. He, of course, agreed, finding a spot alongside the wall as you entered.

Insecurity flipped your stomach as the few Lords stared at you, each of their expressions one of shock. You gazed back at them, unsure of the reason for their behavior, as your nails dug crescents into your blanched palms. Alicent was the only person with a neutral look, hiding the faint smile on her plush lips between her hands as she sat in the high-backed chair at the end of the long table.

Lord Tyland Lannister smirked as you signaled Aemond to pour a glass of wine, needing the courage the firewater brought. You followed the direction of his eyes, realizing they were on your outfit, glancing between the pearl dragon earrings and necklace to the shimmering gold of your gown. You understood it was something you would have never chosen yourself, more comfortable in your red and dark day-to-day palette, but it was a gift from a princess, and you weren't expecting an impromptu meeting. It would be best if you had changed before attending, you nervously thought.

Lord Beesbury was the last member to join, rushing in with a flurry of robes and parchment, the scrolls tumbling out of his arms. You rose to help him and gathered the fallen documents, ignoring the impatient groans of the men above you. Lord Laymen gave you a grateful smile, dropping the scrolls in a pile on the oak table before seating himself.

Otto Hightower broke the thick silence with a sigh and clap of his hands.

"I apologize for the abruptness of this meeting, but I have news regarding aid to the Stepstones," he announced uncharacteristically cheery. "We have received the shipments requested earlier than initially thought, and our Master of Coin's secretary has counted everything himself."

You couldn't hide the annoyed tick of your jaw for not knowing this news first. Lord Laymen was told to come to you regarding when the imports arrived. He was the Master of Coin, and a portion of his duties lay in the imports and exports of Kings Landing. You felt a sense of betrayal at the man, your usual cordial look towards him replaced with an icy one.

"This is wonderful news," Lord Lannister replied boisterously, a smile hidden underneath his beard. "Mayhaps we'll finally be done with this Triarchy nonsense, and Lord Corlys will prevail." The Master of Ships raised his half-empty cup, everyone except for you mimicking his actions. "A toast," he hollered, looking at everyone at the rectangular table as you swiftly lifted your drink to match them, "to the Bastard Princess for finally ending this Gods forsaken war."

"Hear, hear," rang out in the room from all the men, only the two women posing across each other, keeping their mouths shut. You downed the entire contents of the blood-orange wine in one go, swallowing the biting insult that threatened to spill from your mouth at the namesake.

"Thank you, my Lord Tyland, but we shouldn't partake in any victory celebrations yet," you said, false appreciation in your tone. "I would like to see the shipments myself if that is all right with you, Lord Beesbury? 'Tis not that I don't trust your secretary; this project is something dear to me, and I would feel at peace if I were there to ensure it in person."

The older Lord nodded almost ludicrously, "Of course, Princess. We shan't proceed without your approval."

Tossing a saccharine smile to the gentleman under your dark lashes as Lord Jasper chimed in. "Princess, I would like to accompany you in the process. As the Master of Laws, I must ensure they have the required documentation to sail to Dragonstone. We have increased our naval patrol over Blackwater Bay, and I would hate for the goods to be confiscated. If they were, it would be out of my hands then."

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at Lord Wylde, unable to hide the look of disbelief on your face. It felt like an unnecessary request of Lord Jasper, and it insulted you to have him think he could get away with it. "They got here fine, did they not? Refrain from troubling yourself with such trivial tasks. I would be surprised if those men could even read," you quipped, forgetting the courtly tone excepted of you.

Suddenly, the room went noiseless, the joyful feeling replaced with something else.

"Many would say the same about a woman like yourself—a bastard from the slums of Flea Bottom sitting on the King's Small Council. Most people would think you suited elsewhere," Ser Jasper sneered, slighted by your remarks.

Your face grew scalding, your hands balling into fists on your lap. You couldn't contain the following words, the inherited rage from the Rouge Prince boiling to the surface. "Why? Are you looking for another wife? Gods rest her soul."

Gasps filled the room. Everyone, even the One-Eyed Prince, was stunned at the venom that had just spewed from your lips. It had only been a month since the passing of Lord Jasper's wife, not yet through the mourning period. You wanted to take it back as soon as you sounded it. Not because of how vile it was but because it cracked the mask of righteousness you wore with pride, showing how much you were truly like your reckless father—the man who slaughtered the innocents of Flea Bottom over a decade ago.

"It would fit you better," he snapped, "wailing in pain while you served the only purpose a woman like you is good for."

You shot out from your chair, nostrils flaring and lifting your skirt before thinking better of it in an endeavor to unsheath your dagger.

"Enough!" The Queen shouted, stopping you from doing something you wouldn't survive to regret. "The Princess shall survey the shipments without company. This meeting is finished."

Each member left the chambers like frightened deer; even the Hand himself left in such a hurry that it shocked Queen Alicent herself. You could feel their lingering stares as they went, putting your cutlass back in its proper place before flickering your glare to the only occupants still brave enough to stay. Aemond stared at you with regard of what could only be interpreted as amazement, his one purple eye wide and bow lips parted like a suffocating fish would—Alicent, still seated, staring at her raw cuticles, a shadow cast over her heart-shaped face from her forearms.

You left with a succinct curtsy and newfound gratefulness for the Queen, pushing the hair that had fallen over your shoulders behind you and meeting the bewildered gaze of Ser Arryk. He would undoubtedly heard the loud screech of your chair as you nearly pounced on Ser Jasper Wylde, and you could see the concern etched in the fine lines of his skin. You disregarded his outstretched hand that wishfully asks to link arms again, the skirt of your dress nearly causing you to trip from your brisk pace. Arryk swallowed the bitter discomfort that formed in his throat at the denial and caught up to you with haste.

"Your Grace, are you well?" The knight oppugned.

"Quite well. Thank you, Ser Cargyll," you gagged, swatting away a strand of hair that blew into your mouth. Arryk's armor clanked with his swift gait, his white cloak billowing behind him.

"Are you sure, my Lady? I heard a commotion moments before the meeting adjourned," he prodded, hoping you would answer his unasked question.

"I tripped Lord Larys, and he fell into his chair, finally putting the poor cripple out of his misery," you snarled, unsure of your destination as you continued moving. "Is that what you want me to say, hmm?" You stopped abruptly, whipping your body around to face him. "That the wildling bastard Aegon Targaryen found in Flea Bottom is an eel like everyone else? Mayhaps I should go back and live amongst my fellow leeches."

Ser Arryk stared at you in stunned confusion, shock, and befuddlement about where your frustrations and sudden outburst originated.

"Princess-" He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came, lips curling and uncurling as he tried to find the proper expressions. Arryk finally gave up, his cerulean stares closing as he straightened his posture, becoming the impersonal Kingsguard he trained to be.

Even in your rage, Arryk still found you beautiful. Your inklike mane was braided skillfully in a half up half down style, golden pearl pins framing the soft features of your countenance. Immediately he buried the thought, a blush dusting across his pale cheeks. He desired desperately that moment he had his helmet covering the pink. You soughed, realizing your anger was misplaced, and crossed your arms, the bronze beads of your dress catching one another.

Before you could apologize, you caught a blur of green in the distance, the Queen Consort walking purposefully towards you, a firm yet serene expression on her soft face. The knight took note of your gaze, no longer on him, and turned, his posture impossibly more tense than before.

You both bowed in unison as she halted, dismissing Ser Arryk with the wave of her emerald and peridot jeweled fingers. Eyeing her curiously, you fell beside her, assuming she wanted to talk privately. Queen Alicent hushed as you trekked the long winding hallways of the Keep, waiting for the palace's inhabitants to thin before speaking.

"Twas unbecoming of Lord Wylde to speak in such a manner. I want to apologize on his behalf Princess," she said, causing your stomach to tighten.

The Queen never apologized; not once could you recall a moment where she indeed had. High-borns never sought remorse for their actions from those beneath them. They believed themselves above such things, especially a Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You were just a princess, not even in line for the Iron Throne should something tragic happen to the people before you, and yet Alicent was seeking forgiveness. Not even for her actions!

"I believe your apology is unwarranted; you've done nothing wrong. I should hear this from Lord Jasper and not you, my Queen," you replied, flicking a brown and purple eye at her.

Alicent clasped her hands together, a position they seemed never to leave as she nodded grimly. "Yes, I agree, but he would never wound his pride like that. 'Tis the only thing men like him have."

You couldn't hide your disbelief, trying not to bring attention to your reaction lest she decide to rescind this brief moment of peace between you. While her mocking slightly disarmed your caution, you still trod carefully, not adding anything to what you thought of "men like Lord Jasper Wylde." When Queen Alicent saw you would not further her chaffing, she quieted, the delicate grin on her plush lips fleeting.

"It was sad, what he said," Alicent continued thoughtfully, "about your lineage." You glanced at her from the corners of your eyes, not indicating your thoughts. "It's unfair that you're the only bastard who receives nothing."

You quizzically raised a manicured brow at her, willing your mouth not to scowl. "How so?"

"Your adopted brothers. It is no secret that their father is not who Rhaenyra claims to be." You didn't hide the distaste from your look, ceasing your pace alongside her.

"Careful where you tread, my Queen. Some might think what you're implying is treasonous."

Her nude lips pouted, her aureate viridian earrings swaying as she followed. "I know you believe it to be true. I trust that there is comfort in numbers, I suppose. The more bastards in the House, the more likely one would be willing to accept their claim."

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, continuing the direction Alicent had set, yet not knowing where it was to be.

"Truly, I do not understand where this hate of bastards comes from. Men have them more than legitiment ones; why is the Heir not held to the same standard?" you griped, ignoring the Queen's unhurried footfalls to catch up to you.

"Because men do not give their bastards titles. They are not set to inherit what their father has, just as you're not."

You stopped striding again, storming to Alicent like an orange flame emerging from a dragon's throat. "I do not need more titles or gold. My worth is not defined by a piece of parchment or coin like yours." Your chest heaved, the necklace resting upon it, glinting with each breath. "Your implications of my brothers' birth will not be so easily forgotten as the King. My Mother will hear of this, and I-"

"The same Mother who refuses to give you what her sons of equal lineage have?"

The urge to strike her was powerful, your mind a raging inferno of acrimony, anger, and a cold draft of hurt. You quickly shoved it away, focusing on the two you could feel clawing at your ribs to escape. But before you could put your emotions into words, a door opened, a short curly white-haired head peeking out.

Aegon's curious amethyst eyes flitted between you and his Mother, attempting to discern what your clenched fists and red face were about, holding a chalice in his hand. You looked back at Alicent in a mix of malice and disgust for having been so worked up that you didn't realize she had led you to her son's door. Alicent's face was schooled, her back straight and neck high, appearing the ever-regal Queen her father groomed her to be.

"Princess, come," Aegon called, his speech lightly slurred, "join me for a drink. You look like you need one."

You hid the sigh of defeat from Alicent, facing her son with a placid smile. "I do not believe it would be proper of me to join you in your chambers without a chaperone," you countered, though you desired greatly to run into his room and lose the ire of the day.

"You are family, Princess," the Queen chimed in, eager to have you distract her eldest son from drinking too heavily and inevitably embarrassing her.

You glared. She knew of Aegon's unkinship-like desire for you, yet, she was content with practically throwing you into his chambers unsupervised. Every expletive you could think of wanted to be thrown at her, but you held your tongue.

"If her Grace is all right with it," you curtsied, hatred beaming as your voice displayed the opposite. "I shall join you for a drink."

Aegon smiled joyfully, taking a swig of his chalice before opening the door wider as you entered, but not before throwing Alicent a nasty look, the Queen's face unchanging. 

You stormed over to the table in the middle of Aegon's greeting room, dragging the simple wooden chair on the stone floor as it screeched. Placing your head within your palms, you huffed, relaxing your constantly tense shoulders as the tipsy Prince sat across you.

"I wasn't lying when I said you look like you need a drink," Aegon teased, furthering his jesting with a slow sip from his cup.

Dismissing him with a shake of your head, you leaned back in your seat with your legs outstretched and face pointed to the ceiling in an unladylike position. You had already drunk an entire bottle worth of alcohol today, and it was only a handful of hours after midday, and waking up the next morn with a cotton mouth and a pounding headache did not seem like a pleasant idea.

"Perhaps I shall make you come, then, for a change." In response, you tilted your head down, your chin tucking into your chest, eyes in incredulous slits. "You always take such good care of me, little one. Let me return the favor."

You couldn't deny that the idea was appealing. It had been ages since you dove into the soothing water that was pleasure, always preoccupied with Aegon, social events, and politicking. The only moments you ever felt that insatiable need the spoiled Prince seemed to have was with him, but more important things were at hand during those moments.

Your pleasure was not a priority, only his. He was the one that needed to become smitten with you. When he finally was, you would give him a choice, stay with his little Princess under the warmth of your bossom, drinking wine and eating all the sweet cakes he could stomach, or die seated on the Iron Throne as your dragon's flames melted the swords into his flesh.

"I do not need tending to, Aegon, but your offer is much appreciated," you replied, standing as you walked toward the open balcony doors.

The air was sweet, filled with the pollination of flowers and trees, the temperature mild, not too hot, nor too cold, a light-sleeved gown sufficient. Aegon quickly followed after you, resuming a mirrored position from the table on the railing, following your gaze to the southern side of Kings Landing.

He wished so ardently for you to give in to your human desires. It had been months of you living within the Red Keep, something Aegon had prayed to the Old Gods and the New since you left him. He spent countless sleepless nights buried high within his cups and deep within women's cunts to cope with his misery, going so far as to request particular whores with the same dark hair as you to bleach a strand to match yours. Nothing worked. It was never enough, never you.

Until now.

The most you had shown Aegon of the cunny he dreamed of was a glimpse on one secret night where his Mother had been particularly cruel with her words, something or other about spending time with his children. You had comforted him with a soothing ballad of kind words and lifting your skirts. Aegon came with such a force that he thought he saw the Stranger. He finally understood why they were called little deaths, for if he had spent like that every time, he would be dead by now.

Aegon perked at your sigh, watching your dress glitter in the sunlight as you crossed your arms. You looked like you belonged to him then, adorned in the same gold and opulence he loved to wear. He imagined then what life would have been like if you became his wife and not his dreamy-eyed sister.

How many children would you have now? Would he still have the twins? 

Aegon chuckled at the thought, catching your curious stare as he quieted. No, most certainly not. He would never leave you a moment unswollen if you wed. You would have sired at least six children if your body and the Gods allowed it. Your breasts would weigh heavy on your back, and Aegon, the ever-doting husband, would heal you from that pain. He would fuck you until the babe's head dropped, and you could see its lanugo hair. He would stay by your side through every moment of your birthing despite the impropriety of it. Then, after that, Aegon would care for the wounds his child caused, dabbing at your tender womanhood and applying the ointments the Maester prescribed.

A thumping in Aegon's cock tore him from his fantasies, reeling him into the present. You unmarried and babeless, him a piss poor father for his current children and neglectful husband to his real wife. He brushed the thought from his mind, not wanting to fall into the home that was his self-loathing. You were right across from him, deep into your head. He could give it to you now, what he desired, and see how your little deaths would rake through your whole body.

"I can sense you staring," your voice struck like the water he fell into at Blackwater Bay this past winter, "and why you are doing so. You will not make me come, Aegon. I've no want for it."

"Is that a challenge, little one," he teased, pushing off the red stone banister and sauntering towards you.

"No," you answered, facing him with a steeled expression. "It's a command."

"Awe, but Princess, the look in your eyes says differently."

You guffawed, your brows shooting to your hairline as you tilted your head. "You must be drunk then, for you are seeing things. Come now, let's sober you up."

You signaled for him to follow as you walked back inside, only to be stopped by Aegon's deft hands. He moved you more forcefully than possible, dragging you back to your former spot and caging your legs between his.

"Aegon, be serious," you declared, attempting to move his limbs but failing. Despite his lack of training, Aegon could be relatively strong when he wanted.

"I have waited years for you to return to me. I have cried, alone at night in my chambers, praying that the Gods bring you back." You watched him with a look of surprise and sympathy, reaching your arm out to stroke his cheek, something you knew disarmed him, but he swiftly snatched it. "But they did not answer. Now, I have you, and I shall never let you leave."

Aegon's lips crashed against yours without warning, his pink tongue making its way to tangle with yours. You were frozen at the sudden foreign sensation, leaving your jaw to hang loosely open before he shoved a knee betwixt your thighs. The beads of your dress created harsh pinpricks of pleasure on your pearl, causing your mouth to open and your body to slacken, Aegon deepening the kiss instinctually. Your back arched over the stone railing, the Prince's hold being the only thing to keep you from tumbling to your death, digging your fingers into the fabric of his doublet for leverage. If you were to fall, you would ensure the unspoken heir would do so with you.

Aegon's mouth left yours, taking the chance to regain both your breaths before he dove back in, sucking and nipping at the expanse of your neck. His hands began to explore downward on your body, his nails catching on the metal orbs sewn into the fabric, treading lower, lower, and lower until he bunched the fabric of your skirt in his grip.

"Aegon." You tried to sound firm, but the word became a whimper. Squirming in his grasp to leave, you only became weak, the steady placement of his knee rubbing against that sacred area, turning your muscles to mush. "Stop."

He shushed you in response, nuzzling his nose behind your ear, inhaling the welcoming smell of lavender and dragon. "It's all right, little one. I'm here. You deserve this," he cooed, snaking his palm across your navel and down to your heat.

He felt the hair there, more plentiful than when Aegon last touched it, brushing over the coarse strands before entering a finger between your lips. You cried out at the coldness of his digits against your sensitive core, trying to heat his touch before venturing further.

"You're soaked, sweet girl," he purred into your ear, nibbling at the decorated lobe. "Why do you deny yourself so? You do so much for the kingdom, for your family," Aegon paused, parting your damp lips and sliding a slick finger over your bud as warmth shot through you, "for me." Your leg hitched at his touch, moaning loudly as his pad drew circles.

"I don't-" you wept, cutting yourself off as you felt a coil in your stomach form.

"You don't what?" he mocked, pressing firmer and causing a spark of ecstasy to bolt through you. "Don't want it? No." Aegon shook his head, answering for you. "You don't deserve it? No again. You do more in a day than my wastrel father did during his entire reign."

Aegon went faster now, his finger rubbing harder than before and making you leak onto your thighs. "Don't... talk about your father," you said breathily, your head leaning on his.

You felt the vibration of his laugh in your skull, giving you a momentary peck to your jaw in apology as his other hand dropped the skirt of your gown and wrapped it around your waist to grind into his touch. Your chest was heaving, your heart pounding, the wire inside your abdomen rapidly tightening with each refined movement.

"You deserve this. You know you deserve this," Aegon repeated, using your moistness to go faster. "I want you to say it. I want you to say it when you come," he haughtily commanded, his voice thick.

His fingers were too focused, his touch too good, and you were so, so deprived of intimacy. With a few more circles, rubs, and kisses, you felt the words tumbling off your lips, the coil wound too tight as your neglected cunt soaked his fingers with appreciation.

"I deserve this!" you shouted into the cerulean sky, Aegon's digits working you through your climax. "I deserve this, I deserve this, I deserve this," you rambled, your body having a mind of its own.

"You do, little one," he praised. "Let them hear it. Let them know your worth."

"I deserve this," you mewled one last time, nodding your head against the side of his resting on your shoulder, looking like the many cats of the Keep marking their scent. Aegon peppered you with kisses as you inhaled gulps of air. Your legs twitched, and you struggled to stand as the aftershocks subsided, held by only the Prince's strength.

It was impossible to think clearly, to fully grasp what had happened. The months, perhaps even years of negligence you spent with self-pleasure, finally coming to a rearing head, clouding your mind. The consequences of your actions failed you. Your only thoughts of how Aegon slowly dropped to his knees, pulling your skirt higher as he looked up with a mischievous yet admirable look in his violet eyes, his mouth latching onto your puffy cunt with a grin.

"One more," he murmured, his moist breath tickling, "I just need one more."

***

Aegon had lied. He did not only pry one more climax from you but three in total. Once on the terrace, back draped over the railing, your hair hanging over the ledge. The second time underneath the caring disguise of wiping away the slick from your core, only to be met with his middle and ring finger inside your tight velvet walls, and finally, the third, with a combination of his tongue and digits.

You knew you shouldn't have trusted the boy. Aegon was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms for having an appetite that no amount of whores, food, or wine could satisfy. You didn't realize it extended to another's pleasure also. Your bones were made of the Apple Muse you adored by the end, your muscles so weak from the rapid tensing and untensing as he ripped those little deaths from you. 

When all was said and done, the whore of a Prince took great care of you, ensuring your throbbing cunny was clean from both your fluids, and servants brought a pitcher of water.

You were drifting asleep, an action you knew was unwise to do with Aegon around. The possibility of waking with the intrusion of his cock inside your wall was at the forefront of your mind. That fear was the only thing that kept you from drifting off when your body all but screamed for it. You took to speaking with him to distract yourself from rest, reminding him with mumbles that you promised Helaena that you would dine with her tonight. Aegon would have to play the husband's role again and see his children.

It was always difficult to return to Helaena knowing what you had done with him but not the guilt an adulteress would have. Yours was different. Shame that you were playing a game with her husband, knowingly partaking in these acts of scandal towards a goal and not for the pleasure of it. You did not know which was worse.

You were sure that Helaena would not be upset for your actions as a typical Lady Wife would, for she didn't love him like one. You supposed she would be grateful for what you were doing, keeping him away from the Silk Streets, gambling houses, and fighting pits. Ensuring there were no more bastards than there already were running around in Kings Landing. Well, that was what you convinced yourself, at least so you could look at the People's Princess without your sins written across your face.

The timber of Aegon's voice tickled your ear, snapping open your eyes that you didn't realize were closed. "I had the maids tell Helaena that we shall dine in my rooms tonight," he chuckled to himself, pecking you on the cheek with a grin, "since you are in no shape to make the journey to her's."

You nodded, unable to protest, and pushed yourself against the headboard to make yourself more alert. Aegon scooted into place beside you, resting his head on your shoulder while he played with the rings on your fingers. 

You still couldn't process what happened; disappointment was the only thing you could feel. The heavy-weighing claws of it tugging on your heart and dragging it into a bottomless dark pit, constantly carrying, pulling, weighing down on you until you felt the searing pricks of tears in your eyes. 

You had let yourself down and succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh that had ruined so many great men in history. You promised to focus only on Aegon and his desires, and wrongfully, you thought it would be easy. You had anticipated that the Prince was like all other men with sex, only seeking their release, and hadn't planned for him to seek yours out. By all accounts, Aegon had been just that. 

This was the first moment he had wanted you to reach ecstasy during your entire stay. The most Aegon ever begged for was a glimpse of your tits and cunny, working himself in his own hands during the process. Where had the sudden urge to pleasure you emerge from? 

Perhaps the plan was going better than you thought. It's only natural for a man to desire a woman's warm embrace eventually. Still, you hadn't realized it would come at the unreciprocating hands of Aegon the Drunk and only for him not to want something in return. You had long ago made peace with the fact that you would endure the tearing of your maidenhead by him and expected nothing more to bear but this... Aegon had opened something locked tightly inside of you, and your mind could not understand it, so it found the only thing it did: hatred. Not hatred towards the eldest Prince but toward yourself. 

You loathed yourself for what you did, what you allowed. You would understand the reasonings behind the act if it was only once, but you had allowed Aegon to take, take, take from you, willingly, knowing your morals. It was your fault for what happened. There was no one to blame but yourself. 

You searched desperately for anything to justify what happened. Did it bring the unsung heir closer to you? No. You would've had the same results if you had just let him rape you. It further helped make Aegon realize he wanted to be with you more than having riches? No. The climax after edging him ten times would make him learn that. What was the justification? 

You hadn't realized your chest began to pant, alarming the Prince beside you to look over in concern. You felt sick at the sight. His perfectly chiseled marble face staring at you with his amethyst eyes twinkling with rising worry, and you rolled off the bed, stumbling. Your body shook, shoulders tensed to your ears as your fists trembled, pacing aimlessly across his room. Succinct gasps left your quivering lips, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. 

Aegon watched with horror as you ran back and forth across the length of his bed chambers like a caged animal. He had no idea what to do, trying to call out to get your attention but receiving no response. Your hands go to your ears, trying to block out the sounds of a near-silent room as you hiccup. 

Suddenly, the ground beneath Aegon shuddered with a bone-rattling shake, quickly glancing down and then up to see the dust from his ceiling falling to the floor. An ear-bursting roar boomed through the entirety of King's Landing, causing the filled cups of his room to vibrate in their place. He felt the stone floor shake again with the moving of the dragon's footsteps, no doubt belonging to Cannibal. 

Aegon ran to you swiftly at your dragon's second room, seeing the edge of orange flames and smoke rising in the sky from his opened balcony doors. He knew of the bond a rider and their mount possessed, having witnessed it with his own Sunfyre when he too was upset, but never at this length. Cannibal was wild and still barely tamed, unaware of the social norms humans had that the others of his species understood. More roars sounded, but softer this time, as if they were in the distance. Aegon ignored them, focusing on trying to pry your digits that had wound themselves into your braided hair, your scalp blanched and roots nearly showing. 

He said your name first, attempting to gather your attention from where it had run off, but that didn't work. Nothing worked. No amount of cooing and soothing, as one would do to a child, made it past your deaf ears. Aegon began to narrowly mirror your panic, his eyes wide as he searched desperately to find a way to calm you down. He had never seen you in such a state, nor anyone else for the matter, and felt the sting of tears gather in his eyes. 

"Please, speak to me," he beseeched, voice thick with fear. "I've no clue how to help you." 

Your pacing ceased when your slippered foot caught on the misplaced leg of a stool, falling to the ground with a strangled yelp that Cannibal seemed to mimic. Aegon took this time to fall onto the floor next to you, gathering you into his arms as you flailed and booted like a lamb stolen from its Mother. Before he could think better of it, Aegon slapped his hand over your mouth, recalling how he saw a stableboy do that with a spooked colt. 

You squirmed and wriggled like a wounded rabbit caught in a snare, screaming like one into his palm as your blunt nails scratched across his cheek. Aegon ignored the stinging, using every ounce of strength he accumulated from training, brawling, and fucking to hold you down, nearly escaping him twice before he laid you underneath him, arm wrapped around your stomach on the icy stone floor. He pinned you there until your struggling ceased, the rapid flaring of your nostrils coming to a halt. 

When Cannibal's midnight wings flapped in the air, Aegon knew you were calm, feeling secure enough to release you with the gentle draw of his hands. He let you rest there for what felt like ages, scrutinizing every involuntary twitch of your muscles lest he have to repeat himself. The call of Arbor Red was firm in his veins, but he disregarded it, shuffling until his back hit something to rest on. 

The first words out of your mouth were not what he expected, sounding so small and defeated, causing him to pause before he understood briefly. "I must fix my hair before Princess Helaena arrives. Do you have a brush?"

Aegon silently nodded before he realized you could not see him, your cheek still pressed into the floor and facing away. "Yes," he answered aloud, bumbling over to his rarely used oak vanity. 

He handed the silver brush as you sat upright and took apart your maids' handy work, fixing the style into something more straightforward and placing the pearl pins accordingly. Aegon observed with caution, keeping at least ten paces from you as if you were a rabid beast. You didn't fault him for it, nor dislike it, simply too numb to feel. 

"Is it all right?" You startled Aegon, him taking a moment to realize that you were speaking. 

"Of course," he nodded eagerly though you couldn't see, and you hummed in assent. 

"The servants should be near done setting the table. We should wait for Helaena and the children there," you stated blandly, rising from your kneeled position and smoothing your dress. 

Aegon agreed noiselessly, leading you to his solar as cautiously as he could, watching for any sign that he might lose you again, but there weren't any. Ony the cold countenance of apathy that he had only seen once before when staring at the severed head of your kin. The expression haunted him to this day, guilt rising in his throat like the burning feeling of acid, taking an armchair a respectable distance away. 

Masterlist of Series

Once again, I'd like to thank you for your patience during my break. I lived in my George R. R. Martin era, but don't worry; this series won't take 27+ years to finish XD. For some reason, this post won't let me upload my full taglist, so I did it as a reblog in case you wondered why it's different. According to my idea chart, we're a little under halfway through the story, but honestly, it doesn't even feel like it. There are so many things ahead. It's just mind-boggling. Like, there's one point where shit hits the fan, and it's like, "whaaaat". I want to spoil it because it's crazy, but I shall keep my lips sealed. Anyway, thank you so much for reading this chapter and continuing this journey with me!!

Also, did you like my Miss Congeniality reference hidden in there? XD

[xianhuashi-second-blog]

Big Hero 6 was 9 years ago, going on 10. Next year is when it takes place. So, this is an appreciation post for the movie, and what it’s done for me.

Trigger Warning ahead, the post mentions de@th and $u1c1d3, (spelled wrong so I don’t get flagged/shadow banned by the Tumblr gods.) complex grief and mentions of mental health.

BH6 came out when I was 4-5 (what a long time ago omfg-) so its importance to me was non existent. Me and my (much) Older brother watched it together a few years later in 2016. Young me didn’t know the nuance and severity of Hiro Hamada as a character. All I saw was “Two Asian siblings” that had a relationship like me and my brother. I tuned out the rest of the movie that night because I had *and still have* the attention span of a goldfish with dementia. Years later, very recently, (near the end of 2023, but school still in session ) he jumped. He passed away that day. I think I cried an ocean when I got the news from my father.

I cried, not only because I love and miss him with all I am, I sobbed because he was my other half, essentially another father. I cried because I felt, I knew I could have done something differently, so then maybe he’d be alive a bit longer. And, I cry because of all he put himself through for me. It’s hard to imagine the suffering and agony he put himself through to be there for me.

I have diagnosed High functioning Autism. My brother had a feeling, but he helped me understand how neurotypicals interact, how to fake making eye contact, how to hold up a conversation, learn body language, you name it. He even bought me noise canceling headphones because I’m sensitive to loud sounds, and fidget toys that I could use during school. My parents, on the other hand, thought I was just a spoilt brat who needs to pay attention to people, and stop being so picky with foods and their textures, a brat that has to be more social, stop shying away from kids my age. My brother was the one to convince them to get me tested for Autism, to prove I wasn’t just a bratty kid.

He sat through my ramblings about Steven Universe and The Stanley Parable. He helped me work through my meltdowns, and told me it wasn’t my fault that certain things make me upset.

I crumbled to the ground. My world was shattered. After I was “back into reality,” I realized my father was holding me in his arms. I hugged him tightly. My face was smushed against his chest so hardly that it felt like my cheek was about to break. It felt like him. It felt like how he’d wrap me in bear hugs. Weeks went by. We had his Funeral. I looked at the picture of him near his casket. It felt surreal knowing that the same man was inside of the wooden box, awaiting his burial. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream and shout and cause myself to have a breakdown, but I physically couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to be angry at him either. So I just stood there, fingers slightly touching his coffin, where I knew his face would be.

Later on, being forced to go back to school the following week because the American school system sucks 🖕 🇺🇸

I got back home. I went on disney plus to elevate myself of my grief. I scrolled through the home screen, when Big Hero 6 showed up. I remembered watching it with him, so I convinced myself- despite not wanting reminders- to watch it. “Welcome to Nerd-school. Nerd.” I watched the fire alarms blair. The infamous “someone has to help” scene before he ran into the fire. Then, the scene where Hiro was sitting alone on the staircase in his memorial outfit. That frame alone was truly a perfect representation of sudden loss and grief. I felt seen, and acknowledged. I felt understood. I kept watching. Near the end, Hiro was trying to “fix Baymax” with the violence chip thing. “Is this what Tadashi would have wanted?” “It doesn’t matter!” And then finally, “Tadashi’s GONE! Tadashi’s… gone….” The feeling that scene gave me was complicated. But, it left me with the knowledge that he was with me in memory. That, of course, didn’t take away everything that was happening to me.

That movie helped me through complicated emotions, and I cannot thank the BH6 team enough for what they’ve done for me, and how that movie helped me. I still blame myself for what happened. I’m still grieving, and it’s still hard to live without him. And the idea that Tadashi doesn’t get to see his baby brother’s super hero team, yet said team wouldn’t exist without his death, helps me realize that without my brother’s death, I wouldn’t have such a kind community of fellow fans of the movie, who enjoy my art and my storytelling.

Thank you for all you’ve done. Thank you for everything. It was an honor to have you as my brother, and I miss you so much. I know not many people have good relationships with their older siblings right off the bat, so I am so grateful you could give me that friendship. I promise i’m gonna make you proud.

[fallen-in-dreams]

All I Want.

Also on AO3. Pairing: Zuko/Katara. Summary: When he joined the Avatar, Zuko had just wanted an end to the war. A new era of peace for everyone. He hadn't expected to want her. Now, if he can just get her to want him too. Rated: Teen Words: 3,852. Status: Complete. Tags on AO3: Developing Relationship, Pining, Pining Zuko (Avatar), Mutual Pining, Time Skips, Soft Zuko (Avatar), but he's still a bumbling idiot, Romance, First Kiss, Minor Sokka/Suki (Avatar), POV Zuko (Avatar), Falling In Love, Zutara Gift Exchange 2024

.:.

For the Zutara Gift Exchange 2024 on AO3.

Written as a gift for Lizanthium.

Thank-you to @zkgiftexchange for hosting the event. :)

.:.

The subtitles represent 5 languages of love: Words of affirmation. Acts of service. Receiving gifts. Quality time. Physical touch.

Enjoy. :)

.:.

Words of Affirmation.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Zuko breathes. His fingers tremble. His heart flutters. His fire flickers. She’s not ready for this. For him. He can see it in her eyes. There is a war going on, and her mind is solely focused on keeping their group alive and as comfortable as possible. He, however, cannot think of a better time to ingratiate himself to her. Learn what makes her tick.

He watched as she turned, spun, and whipped the water around. He watched as she admonished Aang for his carelessness. He watched as she chopped carrots and stewed the rabbit Sokka had caught for dinner. Zuko had her mannerisms memorised. He was mesmerised. He could not tear his eyes away. He wouldn’t admit this to anyone but his uncle, but there was a simple beauty to the waterbender. He understood and could appreciate the aesthetics of the female body, even if he was naive and inexperienced regarding its functions.

Katara was the motherly type, and people took advantage of that, knowingly or not. She needed reassurance. She needed warm, happy smiles and promises for the future. In all his earlier misrepresentations of her social standing, Zuko knew that at least. Aang smiled and pined after her. Sokka good-naturedly bantered with her. Toph spoke so crassly that Katara revelled in having someone to admonish who also made her laugh. Suki regaled her with tales of the Kyoshi Warriors that fuelled the waterbender’s inner fire.

And me?

Zuko had so far only watched silently, like a stalker. Wary of her temper. But no more. He had to find the perfect thing to say; to let her know how much he appreciated her contributions. Their time chasing down Yon Rha had offered him a glimpse into her mind that he had never had before. But he wanted more. No, needed more.

His mother used to say that most girls found these sorts of gestures to be sweet. The idea of Katara smiling at him over something he said made his stomach flutter. What could he say to make her lips turn up in kindness towards him? He didn’t know. Everyone has their void to fill, here.

Sokka had the hunting part down pat; the vegetation surrounding his family’s vacation beach home held many small animals just ripe for the hunting, despite it being illegal to do so on Ember Island. Their time in the Western Air Temple had taught them not to complain about food. Though Aang still often did, being a vegetarian.

But Katara? He watched her say small prayers over the bodies of the fallen animals that would feed them, before she started cooking.

And after hours of practising in front of the mirror in his room, Zuko finally decided what he would say to her. Those perfect words. So, he opened his mouth to say them to her one evening, as she was sorting out their food storage. At least, he tried to. Hours of working up the courage to say something to her and he forgot every word of his carefully crafted speech the moment her eyes turned toward him expectantly.

It was supposed to be… something about togetherness… or working at something...? He couldn’t remember. But something had to come out and it was the first thing Zuko could think of, having heard her say the names so many times. Large, bright blue eyes widened in surprise as he spoke, bowing his head at the cut of beef she had laid out on a wooden cutting board.

“Thank-you, Tui and La.”

Her eyes crinkled up with humour and the relief flooded his senses. He was such a bumbling idiot.

.:.

Acts of Service.

The days grew easier to bear after his (admittedly well-received) royal blunder. The heat from the summer was all encompassing and filled Zuko’s fire and brought him an unusual sense of calm. Katara had taken him up on his offer to help her with the chores and when he was done training Aang for the day, he would wash and then return to the grounds to wait for her to finish her training. The Avatar’s bending prowess was coming along nicely.

“Out of the way, Sparky!”

He ducked Toph’s barrage of rocks, chuckling as she jumped in to take over in Aang’s training. The monk groaned, mumbling about taking a break, but was quickly forced onto the defence as Toph attacked. Zuko just laughed and followed Katara. They set up as the sun began to fall. The smell of the newly caught badger-fox wafting through the house. Working together seamlessly and silently was comfortable and, as usual, he couldn’t help but sneak the occasional side glance at her.

She was beautiful.

Katara wasn’t perfect, no. With her temper and controlling nature, she was definitely not flawless. But there was a goddess inside her and he couldn’t help but admire everything about her. Though that comparison still felt lacking. She was just Katara. She was the girl his mind filled with when his head hit the pillow at night, invading his dreams. The friend he thought of first when looking for someone to spend his free time with. And he supposed, that made her perfect in her own way.

He knew he was falling for her. It was still terrifying to be this focused on someone. The only other time Zuko had felt this level of obsession, he was still chasing Aang all over the world. But it was different.

She needed him. Or rather, his help. Someone’s help. He had learned enough from watching her. Listening. Learning. Paying attention to her moods. The way to Katara’s heart was in the void the others had left. The helper. A mirror to her house-wife behaviour. He started doing the little things that she barely had time to manage. He organised the laundry alongside her. He offered his help wordlessly with dinner preparation.

“Thank-you, Zuko.” Katara rose to place a chaste kiss on the right side of his face. She knew by now that he was defensive about the left side. His scar. But she didn’t know that this sensitivity didn’t extend to her. She could kiss him wherever she wanted to. Whenever she wanted to. But she clearly isn’t ready to accept that knowledge. Not yet.

“You’re welcome,” he’d muttered as she left the room. Golden eyes watched her, helplessly. Hapless, enamoured. Giddy with hopefulness from the brief warmth of her touch. Of what it could mean one day.

It feels like he’s living in a dream.

.:.

Receiving Gifts.

So, of course he dreams of her that night too.

In his dream, a large fox-bear stalks Zuko in a frozen forest, following him on all fours and sniffing at the ground as it goes. As though it can’t see him. Only scent him. And by that sense alone it searches for him. It happily plods along. He should be afraid, but his golden eyes track its movement with curiosity. What was it doing here? Where is it going?

And why does it seem so familiar?

Suddenly, it lurches forward, like a hunting dog that has caught the scent of a deer-rabbit. It bursts forth, breaking the tree branches and trampling through the brushes under its feet. Every stretch of muscle becomes less lumbering and lithe, and more balanced. Each thrust of its legs outward gracefully until finally it slowed. It changed. Four legs became two.

Zuko is fixated on the movements. A strange feeling wells up inside him and he smiles, eyes wide as the thing begins to morph. Easily, like snow melting into water, it was elegant in its transformation. Lithe and powerful. He feels no fear as the familiar body begins to take shape. Like the shapeshifters of legend, she is suddenly before him in all her divine glory. His waterbender. A woman. Tall and beautiful. Familiar. 

Her arms are warm around his shoulders. Her embrace is tight and friendly. She has come home. To him.

Zuko wakes with determination. He found what he was looking for while he helped Katara with the laundry a few weeks ago; a tattered coat of furs that could only have been made in the Southern Water Tribe, but distinctly feminine. So, not Sokka’s. It looked slightly singed and ripped in places that even a great seamstress would have trouble sewing over. She must have been keeping it for sentimental reasons because the coat was unwearable. It needed professional help.

Sneaking out of the beach house in the middle of the night was easy but not necessary. The earthbender who sees all was fast asleep. Instead, he waited until the sun began to rise. The heat of the day emboldened him and Zuko made his way to the town. There were a few shops already open, including a seamstress. A few coins in her hand later and she was promising a quick fix. He’d found the ban coins in his father’s old room. It was ironic that the old man would pay for Katara’s present.

As he watches her bright blue eyes widen in surprise at his gift, he is reminded of every moment he’d spent imagining the halo of light around her head as a golden crown instead.

“Thank-you, Zuko!”

She throws herself at him. The muscles of his stomach contract. He returns her embrace, inhaling the scent of her wild hair, gripping her perhaps a bit too possessively. But she doesn’t notice. Katara is oblivious to the war raging in his heart. In his head. In his soul.

.:.

Quality Time.

Their moments together were short and painful. Brief encounters that slowly began to drag out in his mind and dreams. Sozin’s comet was coming, and their month of preparation was almost over. He watched his friends. Katara laughed at Sokka’s newest joke and leant into Suki who had linked their arms genially. Toph made crass comments, as was expected, and Aang was frustratingly quiet, just feeding Momo and gazing off into the night. All the smiles were fake. The jokes are redundant. But somehow, it was going to be okay. If Zuko shifted his attention away from Katara for even a moment, the raging, freezing fear would overwhelm him. The return of Sozin’s comet weighed heavily on his mind.

“Sokka, stop that!”

Zuko blinked heavily, the smoke from their outdoor fire making her look hazy across the way. They were feasting under the stars tonight. One last dinner as a group before the unknown crept in tomorrow.

He found himself reminiscing on all the events that led to this moment, the night before their departure. Watching her sit, stiff and straight backed and sleep deprived, while directing Appa as they made their way to the Southern Raiders had been quite the experience. She was powerful. Scary. Amazing. All the times they had fought, and he’d underestimated her, and paid the price. He hadn’t admitted, even to himself, that she’d frightened him.

But this new Katara scared him most of all. The Katara he was in love with. The Katara he’d been pining for. The Katara who smiled at him and meant it. The girl who now saw him as an invaluable friend. Of course he was overthinking it. Was he staring at her too much? Did she know he gravitated towards her in group activities? How much attention was too much? Should he back off a bit? Would less time in his company confuse and sadden her? Was he just as crazy as his sister and father to think her smile might mean something, one day?

“Katara?”

Before he could stop himself, Zuko was coaxing her into a late-night walk. The group had already begun to disband, with Sokka and Suki having retired for the night and Aang disappearing into the house. Toph gave a loud, obnoxious yawn before leaving too.

“Zuko?”

They stopped at the edge of the ocean and now that he was here, Zuko wasn’t sure what to say. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. She was so close. Close enough to touch. But he couldn’t. His heart clenched and he tried to centre himself. How to tell her how he felt without sounding lovesick like Aang? The words would not come. Tomorrow might be the end of them all and they just stood there, staring at the undulating waves and enjoying the warmth of their closeness in the chilly night.

The idea of opening up to her after all the angsty and over the top emotions that he’d embarrassed himself with so far was scarier than he’d imagined.

“It’s okay,” she said after a while, her voice soft and understanding. “I’m scared too.”

.:.

Physical Touch.

Hot flashes of lightning seared through him, but the world had survived. He almost died, but Zuko has never felt more alive. Her hands on him. Touching him. Healing him. And in the aftermath, she presses herself against him, those healing hands on his back. Her head resting on his shoulder. They are looking out over everything. Silent. Content. Together. The future is clearer now. Everything is before him. Friends. Family. A life.

And then it was gone, as abruptly as it had come.

He tells himself she just needs time. She’s in the Southern Water Tribe, rebuilding. With her people. Where her heart draws her to. It is only natural. Katara is teaching a new generation. Healing a nation. Months pass. Then it has been a year. He is in contact with the rest of the Gaang as well, not just Katara. Sokka writes about his new responsibilities in the southern village. Suki spares a few words from her home on Kyoshi Island where she is training new recruits and eyeing off some of the older girls to one day replace her so she can be reunited with Sokka. Toph is having a blast with her new school. Aang is… Aang. His letters meander from one thought to the next. Official statements. Personal ones. Travelling and never staying in one place for long. He has a hundred years of Avatar’ing to make up for, after all.

Nobody mentions Katara.

Her letters are to the point but always with a heartfelt sign-off. He misses her. She misses him. She misses them all.

“Some days I expect to wake up in that beach house and find you pacing about your room, trying to think of some excuse to spend time with me.”

His heart aches in searing, hot flashes that have nothing to do with his inner fire. In her absence he is empty and stilted, burying himself in work. More time passes and unspoken confessions hang in the air. Zuko waits to hear that she’s dating the Avatar, but the gossip never comes. Hope blossoms in his chest. He turns down Mai every time she tries to get back together with him, and she eventually gives up, returning to her ancestral home in the Southern Fire Nation.

Zuko searches for his mother, finds a new family, and says goodbye to old friends. But still the waterbender fails to appear. Had he imagined it wrong? Was she now off with the Avatar after all? When he visits, Sokka says “no” but does not elaborate, and Suki gives him a knowing look.

So, where is she?

He is tired of waiting.

For what seemed like forever, Zuko has been good at just doing what he was told to do. Barring his one moment of insubordination, which had given him his recognisable scar, he was a good boy. A failure, emotional and weak, but obedient. Relatively. But then he had turned on them all. He was insubordinate again. This one almost cost him his life, but Zuko was proud of that too. Now, he was the Fire Lord. His entire life had turned around and was finally coming together. Everything his uncle had said he deserved was coming to fruition. Everything but the one person he had wished would come to him. Return to him and validate his feelings.

It has been two years. His mother cautions him, saying to give it another year. His uncle says to follow his heart. They are both in agreement, somehow, on the end of the journey.

But he is tired of waiting for her. He doesn’t expect much. Just an acknowledgement of his feelings. A yes or no on whether she might one day return them. And perhaps a promise, if she could, that he was her future. It did not have to be set in stone. They were still teenagers, after all. Either way, he needed to know.

So, Zuko sets out to visit the Southern Water Tribe in the capacity of his role as the Fire Lord and – officially – to check in on the rebuilding efforts. He would get his answer, once and for all, no matter what it was. With him he brought a beautifully crafted necklace. White opal and Fire Nation silk embroidered together to create the choker that he had had designed based on his memory of her mother’s necklace. Simple but beautiful. Elegant and understated. Awe-inspiring but not gauche.

One day.

One day, she would accept it. But not yet.

The first face he sees when the gangplank is lowered to accept him, is her father’s. Chief Hakoda is all smiles, albeit stilted, professional ones. He claps Zuko on the back and they fall into an easy conversation as the older man shows him around the new, flourishing village. Tired and frayed, he follows the chief, eyes widening in surprise and awe at the rebuilding efforts. Already there is a wall along the western embankment that he can imagine one day rivalling the one guarding the Northern Water Tribe city. One day, Agna Qel'a will have nothing on its southern counterpart. It makes Zuko wonder if there is an official title for the southern village now and files that away in his head to ask at a more appropriate time. Perhaps once it is fully built and the name matches the beauty of its construction. Already he can see hints of the powerful infrastructure this place will one day become. It makes him oddly proud.

When the tour is over, Zuko is left to retire to a large tent. He doesn’t see Katara anywhere and is uncertain of the social protocol to ask about her. It only occurs to him after he’s stripped, washed, and dressed for the traditional communal dinner that he could have simply asked about her as a friend.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Why she wasn’t there to greet him he didn’t know. It unsettled him, making him rethink his intentions. Perhaps she didn’t want to see him. A million different scenarios played out in his head; a variety of ways that she was already rejecting him when he desperately just wanted to see her. To touch her and hold her. It had been far too long since he had breathed in her scent.

“Zuko?”

He blinked, turning to the entrance of his tent, startled.

It’s her.

“Katara? C-come in.”

He smiled reflexively as she appeared. His eyes devoured her. It had been an entire year, and she looked just like he remembered. A little taller. More filled out. She was now a sixteen-year-old girl, on the cusp of becoming a woman. Beautiful. Radiant. And so much more than he’d ever have hoped for. She was perfect and beaming at him like he was the light of her own fire. Zuko missed that about her. Her warmth and accepting smile.

“I wanted to see you before dinner,” she said. “Can we… Can we talk?”

She shuffled nervously at the entrance, and he nodded. Katara stepped into his personal space, her hand trembling as she reached towards his. Warm and soft on his skin; he gripped her fingers tightly, breathing coming hard in shock and anticipation. Was this it? They stood facing each other for the longest time, staring into each other’s eyes. Holding tightly. Words unspoken were no longer terrifying, only trembling in anticipation.

“I missed you,” she said suddenly, her dark skin pinching in a barely visible flush of embarrassment. “I… I wanted to tell you so many times.”

Zuko nodded, now lifting her hand to his lips and watching the way she inhaled sharply at the touch. He grazed a courteous kiss to her knuckles, cupping the palm of her hand with his. The understanding was clear, and she smiled, holding his hand just as fiercely.

“Zuko… I.”

She pulled her hand away when someone outside the tent passing by made a startling sound. He frowned, thinking again of the way she’d pulled away from him after the battle with Azula. From the blush on her face and the guilty look on her face, he wagered she was thinking of the same thing. So, he asked the question he’d wanted to know the answer to so long ago.

“Did I do something to offend you back then?”

Her eyes widened. “N-no, Zuko! I just needed time with my people.”

He nodded stiffly. How do we go from here?

The betrothal necklace he’d made is burning a hole in his pocket. Under all the Fire Nation silk and Water Tribe furs he’d procured for his stay, it felt hot and heavy. He wasn’t so naive as to show it to her now. It would take time. The understanding between them had to come first. But Zuko couldn’t bear to be parted from his creation as he navigated these interactions. He saw it as his lucky charm. Hopefully.

Taking a deep breath, Zuko grasped both of her hands again and took a deep breath. He needed to say this before his courage failed him.

“I didn’t come here to see the rebuilding efforts.”

She smiled. “I know.”

“I came for you.”

“I know.”

He chuckled at that but didn’t let it distract him. “I know the Water Tribe courting traditions and I’ll honour them, but I also wish to use Fire Nation etiquette to ask you officially, if you are willing?”

A blend of the two sounded like the perfect idea.

Katara nodded. “I’m willing.”

She had stolen his breath with that one, quick admission. Talking was unnecessary now as he held her gently. Zuko reached out tentatively to brush his hands across her face. Her breathing deepened in anticipation, but her eyes remained fixed on his. Watching him. Katara leaned into him. Touched him. 

Her own love language.

“Zuko…”

Her head tilted upwards, and he lowered his face to meet hers. Foreheads touched as her hand rested on his. Eyes closed in silent commiseration as they inhaled each other’s air but not quite kissing. Lips parted and breathing deeply, simply happy and relieved in each other’s presence.

Finally.

Finally, he lowered his lips to hers and drank her in. Hands explored her curves. Moans filled the tent. Finally, she responded. She’d heard him. Felt him. His yearning and desire for every part of her. Katara knew him and accepted every part of him. The quiet, heart-stopping repose, a soft promise for tomorrow. Forever.

.:.

[scamornoreviews]

Passion Phrases Program Review - Are Passion Phrases To Say To A Man Legit?

Discover how the Passion Phrases Program helps women build deep emotional connections with men. Read this in-depth review to learn how it works!

The Passion Phrases Program teaches women the secret language of love to attract and keep the man of their dreams. Read on to uncover its benefits, features, and real impact.

Introduction

Love can be a rollercoaster, right? One minute, everything feels like a fairytale, and the next, it’s like he’s slipping away. What if the right words could make all the difference? That’s exactly what the Passion Phrases Program aims to do! Designed by relationship expert Carlos Cavallo, this program is a game-changer for women who want to strengthen their romantic connections and keep their partners emotionally invested. But does it really work? Let’s dive in!

What Is the Passion Phrases Program?

The Passion Phrases Program is a step-by-step guide that teaches women specific phrases to trigger emotional attraction in men. Based on psychological principles and male behavior patterns, these phrases are crafted to make men feel desired, understood, and connected on a deeper level.

Instead of leaving love to chance, this program gives women the tools to communicate in a way that keeps men engaged and invested in the relationship. Sounds intriguing, doesn’t it?

How Does the Passion Phrases Program Work?

This program is all about using the right words at the right time. It offers six categories of phrases, each with its own unique effect:

Indirect Phrases – Subtly spark a man’s interest without sounding desperate.

Physical Phrases – Use body language and touch to create stronger attraction.

Appreciation Phrases – Make him feel valued and admired.

Curiosity Phrases – Keep him intrigued and wanting more.

Challenge Phrases – Tap into his natural desire to pursue and “win” love.

Transformation Phrases – Help improve his mindset and relationship behavior.

When used correctly, these phrases can turn an ordinary relationship into something magical.

What’s Inside the Passion Phrases Program?

The program isn’t just about words—it’s a complete relationship toolkit! Here’s what’s included:

Core Training Modules

Teaches the psychology behind men’s emotions and behaviors.

Explains how to use passion phrases in real-life situations.

3-Step Formula

A simple technique to make men open up emotionally.

Helps strengthen trust and deepen bonds.

10 Reasons Why Men Struggle with Commitment

Identifies common reasons why men hesitate in relationships.

Provides solutions to help overcome these barriers.

Attraction Secrets

Reveals how to make a man feel irresistibly drawn to you.

5 Signs He’s Truly Interested

Helps you differentiate between a man who’s serious and one who’s just passing time.

Bonuses Included in the Passion Phrases Program

As if the main program wasn’t enough, it also comes with some fantastic bonuses...

Full Passion Phrases Program Review here! at https://scamorno.com/Passion-Phrases-Review/?id=tumblr

The Ultimate Guide to Men

A two-hour video revealing what men really want in a relationship.

Passion Secrets

Five powerful relationship tips to keep the spark alive.

Love Games

Fun and engaging activities to strengthen emotional intimacy.

Dirty Talk Phrases

Flirty and playful phrases to add excitement to your love life.

Power Phrases

Twelve ready-to-use scripts that leave a lasting impression on any man.

Who Should Use the Passion Phrases Program?

This program is ideal for:

Women who feel like their partner is losing interest.

Those struggling with commitment issues in their relationship.

Anyone looking to reignite the spark in a long-term romance.

Singles who want to attract the right man from the start.

If you’ve ever felt confused about why men pull away or lose interest, this program could be the missing piece of the puzzle!

Benefits of the Passion Phrases Program

So, what makes this program stand out? Here are some of its key benefits:

✔ Easy to Follow – No complicated theories, just simple yet effective techniques. ✔ Scientifically Backed – Uses psychology and relationship principles that work. ✔ Helps Build Emotional Connection – Strengthens relationships at a deeper level. ✔ Boosts Self-Confidence – Empowers women with the knowledge to attract and keep the right man. ✔ 60-Day Money-Back Guarantee – Risk-free investment!

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

How much does the Passion Phrases Program cost?

The program is available for a one-time payment of $48. This includes all core modules and bonus materials.

Is there a money-back guarantee?

Yes! It comes with a 60-day money-back guarantee. If you’re not satisfied, you can get a full refund—no questions asked.

Is this program suitable for men?

No, the Passion Phrases Program is specifically designed for women looking to improve their relationships with men.

Do I need prior experience with relationship coaching to use this?

Not at all! The program is beginner-friendly and easy to understand.

How soon can I see results?

Results vary, but many users notice changes in their relationships within a few weeks...

Full Passion Phrases Program Review here! at https://scamorno.com/Passion-Phrases-Review/?id=tumblr

[poet-to-none]

Trivia for "Black, Soft, Unearthly"

1)👄 "I swallow his breath and I bite afresh." Magnus biting across Lestat's lower lip/his inner mouth for the final drink is an homage to Sam Reid's adorable little crease, at one side of his mouth, that begs to be interpreted as a scar I thought a maker's kiss would be a profound physical way Lestat connects to Magnus, by sight or touch, long after their night's gone 2)🔥 "Not a method, as I had to do for myself"

The fangs of a vampire never pierced Magnus. He let blood, cut a vampire, and drank. This is a method, not an intimacy, built upon his practice of medicine. It's executed flawlessly. However it reminds me STRONGLY of Akasha's one way transformation as well. There's a virgin birth parallel going on here, even though Magnus doesn't care. ALSO about theft/stealing of immortality: calling alchemists thieves/dishonest is contemporary to Magnus' era. Why Anne decided to make a nod to the sterotype, I don't know, but she added it with quite the positive spin, Lestat seeing Magnus in his memory as 'a dark Prometheus stealing a luminescent fire.' I mean, damn. He's really hot. He's sexy. That's sexy.

3)⚗️ "The grains of the philosopher's stone"

This is one weird thing to wrap one's head around, but if I understood it right, the stone (if it could be gotten) is the first matter of creation and putting it in an elixir would change the properties to some perfect balance, so you'd want the grains of it, as a powder, for use. Lestat being the philosopher's grains for mixing a vampire's HIGH PRAISE.

4)🐺

"Thinking of a new element, an untested substance"

Why's Magnus obsessed with Lestat's wolf killing? Why is THAT the crucial element he thinks would be irreplaceable if he decided not to take Lestat? There's two answers! It tells Magnus everything about how Lestat will handle becoming a vampire. He has a nature to kill he can enjoy, he has a means to recover from a deeply altering sense of self/depression, and he considered his family gone and felt ok. All that will happen to Lestat, and in Magnus plan it has to happen to Lestat alone (without his being there). He needs to KNOW Lestat's good, that he's not vulnerable to misery or giving up on surviving. He needs an empirical weight to it, cause that's how he rolls, needs things closer to facts than guesses. And then, it also relates them. Lestat in the woods, being alone, hunting, is timeless. Magnus in the woods, being alone, gathering his materials, is timeless. So many hours they've experienced where there's no cultural disconnect, doing what they love, they can completely understand one another in these memories. They can bond. And the medieval weapons Lestat used! Right from Magnus era practically. He had a sword too. 5)🩸 "Ask for the dark water. You'll find it water of all waters."

The dialogue before the turning the the most intentionally altered, as in many places it remained exact or had single word/phrase omissions.

Why?

Although alchemists were wildly fueled with religious thoughts in the middle ages, Magnus would have been among those in the late-1400s, closer to the Renaissance. I wanted his interpretation to be functionally atheist, a REALLY rare quality for thinkers then, an extreme. His living with such a secret conviction, that no one agrees with would make a compelling part of his inner fire. And a dichotomy too, being so aware of religion but indifferent to it. Circling back, Anne's heavily Christ like language from Magnus, in the original, sounded too sincere, from a closet atheist, there's not enough clever perversion telling Lestat what's really him. 6)⏰ "I turn the dial to wind it. I live forever."

Mechanical clocks are a 1300s invention. By the 1400s there's small clocks and they are spring driven! They get a twist from a nifty crank/dial daily to keep going. Time keeping in this era's always on the mind so that's why it's kicking around in his brain in general. And in context to his turning, Magnus is implying he did everything he needed once for immortality and it will go on as it is, it won't run out! The opposite of expectations. It's got such a flair of his ego! 7)❄️

"Standing this night, a cold December night" I wrote in December! As a reference, I changed the night Lestat's kidnapped by Magnus. That evolves into fun astrology theory in Then Shall Change Red too, as a bonus. Magnus, as a medieval thinker, wouldn't have transformed his fledgling approaching the month of Scorpio. However, October (2022) IS when I first read TVL though, right on Lestat's book canon immortal birthday.

8)🧻 "Soured by the street waste" Paris had sewers by 1370! Then didn't modernize them until 1855! We're in 1781 in our story, mostly pre-plumbing, so the streets are dirty (though made with drainage in mind). People also carried their fresh water in buckets from the Seine. 9)🥩 "It does taste good in that way." Vampires don't use tastebuds anymore, but beef might be the only food that has a blood flavor to it, if cooked savory/not too much. That would translate as an eating memory! Wild! And perfect to add because of the stew Lestat eats in TVL.

10)💗 "Their hands hold in sleep, these lovers"

Lestat and Nicki's romance is such a true love's tale. Magnus no doubt glimpsed their attraction while mind reading, during theatre performances, hastily lifting a thrilling fact: Lestat's attracted to men, just as much as he is. Then caught up in himself, a powerful vampire on the go getting things done, he wouldn't realize they're IN A RELATIONSHIP until he's at their bedside. 11)☀️ "Sunlight in the hair" "Golden hair on pillowed satin rags" Lestat's aspects (physical and otherwise) cross over into representation of alchemy, in the flesh (the list is long guys), and what probably fed Magnus subconscious/conscious obsession with blonde hair is his fixation on symbology, what gold represents. Alchemy's his happy place. 12)💔 "I love you. Magnus." The total times Magnus tells Lestat to "Ask" for him is five, all of these Lestat denies. But in a very sweet parallel, Lestat also says "I love you" five times. Don't @ me if this reminds of the three denials of Peter. 13)🚫 With the creative task of wondering what extra stuff would be in Magnus head, I had to choose the thoughts he'd have about his servant. And the amount's zero (I'm glad you noticed). Lestat's the only thing that exists for this guy after committing, let's be real. 14)💬 First Person Present Tense! Anne wrote TVL in First Person Past Tense. To be authentic to the Vampire Chronicles style of writing I felt I should use the same. But as Magnus is now in the Vampire Beyond, how would he retell his story? He'd have to tell it in real time! 15)🌿 "Where the doves have been. The apple wine." Why doves? I chose them intentionally as a visual symbol. They've always represented peace, love, and hope. Black, Soft, Unearthly is meant to be viewed as why Lestat and Magnus reached these feelings with each other, in Anne's writing. It unpacks the narrative delicately, in detail, from the immortal's eyes, which is Anne's usual go to. In the case of Lestat's story, we see it all through his mortal eyes only. This effects people I think, a lot more than they realize. Emphasizing doves also alludes to the concept of a nest, because Magnus' made Lestat's nest worth it's salt. Coven vampires didn't get strong blood or wealth or freedom. Lestat did.

[moderngroupieanonymous]

The Dangerous Game that is PDA

Confessions of a Modern Day Gr*upie: A Blurb

Description: This is a blurb, a non-chronological piece of my story that I think is relevant to share regarding PDA with someone in the public eye, someone in a band. It is the best and worst thing that can happen. . . especially in modern day.

Warnings: Alcohol, drugs, and PDA. Definitely a hard content warning for anyone under 18.

✯

Men typically have their own reasons to avoid PDA. I've personally never understood any of these reasons, always seeing them as ridiculous and wrote it off as a man being too insecure to show his love to his partner in public. I may be biased though, as physical touch is my love language. Being with someone in the public eye, however, definitely complicates things.

Being in public settings with him, I've always been respectful of an unspoken boundary that eyes would inevitably be on him, and if I were to draw attention to us, those eyes would then land on me. His band isn't yet a household name, but in the context of the right setting, the right age group, the right fandom circles, he is known. For a while, I had only the luxury of being with him freely in the context of semi private spaces of after parties, and spaces with just he and I. Until one time. . .

Until one time after a show, in a city unfamiliar to us, with enough alcohol in our systems to let our guards down, things changed. We were in an intimate group of guys from the band and the band who they were supporting at the time, along with a few of my friends. It was a local dive bar in the area that we did our best to keep under wraps. It was nearing the end of that leg of the tour and the guys really just wanted to celebrate. He and I were together, his hands never leaving my waist, toying with my skirt, speaking words only I can hear against my lips. Our heads were swimming from the alcohol, the weed, and whatever else the guys would run off here and there to do in the bathrooms. His guard was down, he felt comfortable enough with me to not hold back what he wanted to do in that moment. And in that moment all he wanted was me. To me, any moment with him was enough, but this wasn't something I had shared with him before, in a place so public. The Jameson coursing through my veins allowed me to lean into the feeling, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck as he spoke into my ear. It felt like we were the only two on earth. It was these moments that I wanted to live in forever. Until it ends.

And the moment quickly ended when I made eye contact over his shoulder with a girl I had seen at the show earlier, standing 5 feet from us. He felt my body stiffen in his arms as I looked around the bar to find a larger group of girls that began to circle our group with the guys. Word had gotten out where the band was.

From that point on, girls began approaching him here and there throughout the night, conveniently choosing to not acknowledge my presence. It didn't bother me though. I watched on, sipping the drink I held for him as he politely interacted with the fans who requested his attention. I loved watching him. He kept the interactions brief, knowing I was waiting ever so patiently to be back with him.

Did anything come of this night that got back to me? No. Have some of those girls seen me before but have been unable to place me? Absolutely. If you've ever spent some time with someone in the public eye, chances are, no matter how known or underground they may be at the time, someone somewhere is going to care enough to know exactly who you are. Because they care about the band.

I never really thought I'd experience something like this until the day it happened. A few months prior to this, I met a group of fans at a show in a really exciting city at a highly sought after venue. The kind rockstars dream of. My friends and I had made friends with the girls standing near us in the pit and we decided to exchange socials. Mind you, my Instagram is always set to private, and I'm usually super selective on who I accept for my own personal reasons. When I was typing in the girl next to me's handle in the search bar, I hear her friend gasp next to her. She shows me a picture from my profile of me and him together, hidden on one of the last photos of a scroll photo post. It was a candid picture my friend had captured of us after one of their shows at the venue. Sure, the picture was taken in a public space with others around, but the moment apparently appeared intimate enough for some to raise an eyebrow to.

"I've literally seen this photo before." She gushes to me.

"What?" I reply.

"Yeah. . . this picture of you and him, I've seen it before!"

Again, my profile? Private. There would've been no way the photo would've gotten out to anyone other than my followers if it were up to me. Did someone on my followers screenshot this? Was it circulating in groupchats? I'll honestly never know the answer. But it was in that moment when I realized one way or another that there may have been one or two or ... a few more eyes on me than I had expected.

For someone whose love language is physical touch, PDA is something we crave. Being seen in this light with someone in the public eye, however, complicates things. Especially in modern day.

✯

AN: Hi everyone! I have more writings in the works that go along with the actual timeline of my story, but I felt the need to put out this post as a blurb that goes along with the essence of being with guys in bands in modern times of social media, etc. Shit makes it more interesting! Hope you enjoyed this installation xx.

[haveznz]

How to Improve Intimacy in a Relationship with Romantic Wellness Chocolate by ZNZ

A real intimacy has nothing to do with switching the contact or being physically spaced, it is all about the emotional closeness, big trust, and little things that can affirm in your relationships, such as, I see you, I love you. No matter whether you are about to begin a relationship or you have been in one a few decades, intimacy requires careful attention.

The great news? There is no need to make big transformations; only an adjustment in thinking, some straightforward routines, and perhaps a bar of romantic wellness chocolate. At ZNZ we are convinced that taste plus experience is the key ingredient in the reunification of a couple and we, therefore, use emotionally nourishing treats as a way of connecting the couple.

Here is a list of light, yet serious, suggestions on how to increase intimacy in your relationship and become even more close to the partner.

1. Create Space for Honest Conversations

Sore judge-free communication is the starting point of great intimacy. Natural closeness occurs when the spouses think that they are listened to and are understood.

Put down the phone and the clutter and get with it.

Exchange the language of blaming with the language of making an assertion using words like I feel.

Ask wondering questions: What do you feel most connected to as of late?

ZNZ Tip:Introduce these talks by putting a rooting practice into it- consume some emotional wellness chocolate mutually. The uplifting botanicals assist in lowering the tension and opening the heart space to be honest with one another.

2. Build Daily Connection Rituals

To be able to connect, one needs to do it not only spontaneously. Small intimate actions repeated are part of what creates intimacy.

Give a hug every morning when you leave.

Eat together for at least 10 minutes.

The day should end by asking a common question: What was a highlight today?

ZNZ Ritual:Lovers that eat a square of romantic wellness chocolate together every night say they feel more emotionally closure and look forward to the time they are together.

3. Prioritise Non-Physical Intimacy

Intimacy is not created only in the bedroom, but also in the little loving touches which typify being there: seeing, but not hearing, means saying, you count.

Look in the eyes when speaking.

Be loving in small gestures of care: remembering small likes, tea making.

Listen well. Simply being there (and not trying to repair) helps a lot.

Sensory Tip:Create an atmosphere at the table with lights, some music, and a tasting board of chocolate. Engage the senses with these feel-good chocolates of all kinds to create an emotional contact moment.

4. Explore Each Other’s Love Language

The five love languages divided by Dr. Gary Chapman that is: words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, gifts and physical touch can open a new understanding in your relationship.

Have a conversation with your partner and ask him/her what makes him/her feel loved.

Use their love language often, even when you are not comfortable with it.

Make a mix between languages: provide a small present of ZNZ chocolate accompanied by a handwritten message.

Example:Think what are their languages; so if it is gifts, then when the time is at hand, surprise them with a box of their favorite intimate energy chocolates. Humanise it and make it not a transaction.

5. Reignite Playfulness

Vulnerability is achieved through play and laughter, but not pressure. Couples laugh together to be connected regarding their happiness.

Have a kitchen party, have card games or ridiculous pictures.

Be flirty like you used to be when dating.

Leave play-notes labelling that you love them, combined with a bar of chocolate arousing chocolate, covered.

ZNZ Playfulness Tip:Every week, hide one ZNZ chocolate and add a flirty note. It is a surprise that brings joy and anticipation, which are really good ingredients for intimacy.

If anxiety affects intimacy, here’s how mood chocolates for men help build bedroom confidence naturally.

6. Create Sensual Rituals Together

Sensuality presupposes slowness, attention, and celebration of the mutual physical and emotional atmosphere between people.

Commit some time together to renew physical contact or to massage.

Discover each other: feed him/her some chocolate perhaps, or do a blindfolded taste test or aromatherapy.

Use mellow light, touchy materials and music to make it romantic.

Why ZNZ Works:Ingredients in our intimate energy chocolates include such traditional passion-raising and emotionally warming herbs as Maca, Shatavari and Cardamom. Exchange of these snacks in your erotic traditions will create additional intimacy and decadence.

Conclusion

Sexual closeness does not require flawlessness, it requires attention, interest, and caution. Every day your relationship can become more profound with small rituals, being emotionally open, and spending conscious moments together.

It might be tea time with your partner, an open conversation, or a piece of ZNZ romantic wellness chocolate, but you are establishing intimacy. Not in pursuit of the big moments--No--but in pursuit of love, in the little moments, over and over again, day by day.

Since you cultivate intimacy, you not only stick together, you expand together.

Read More About: Romantic Chocolate Gift Ideas for Valentine’s Day

[sapphicwriter94]

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

Hello! Eret Nordisk, Jr. here, chieftain of Wolfsbane! My wife Olive and I met on June 13, 2014. We both went to the same theater to see How To Train Your Dragon 2 for the first time. After the movie ended, I stayed with Olive while the others went to go comfort Hiccup and Valka (if you know, you know). My right hand never left her right knee.

What was their first impression of each other?

For me, it was love at first sight. For Olive, though, at the time, she was still with Hiccup and didn’t want to leave him because he just lost his dad.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

My little sister Amalie wanted us to get together, but she understood why we couldn’t at the time.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

I definitely felt romantic feelings first for Olive. When she reacted to Stoick’s death (and proceeded to sob throughout the rest of the movie, which I don’t blame her for), my heart physically ached for her.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

I definitely did try to resist my feelings...but that resistance didn’t last very long. And I know Olive resisted her feelings because of being with Hiccup.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

For me, I was ecstatic, but also cautious, because my fiancée at the time, Jasmine, was so attached to me (but not in a good way, like Olive is attached to me. Olive is the only romantic interest allowed to be attached to me like that). As for Olive, she’s been searching for her (fictional) true love/soulmate for years, pretty much since she was 6 years old. I’m so happy I get to be that for her.

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Gods, that question breaks my heart, and I know it breaks my wife’s heart as well. If Olive and I had never met...honestly, I don’t know if either of us would even be each other. We’re each other’s anchor, each other’s rock. We’re like apples with caramel, fine on our own, but even better together.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

I initiated the relationship on August 8, 2014, and we unofficially got together. On December 28 of that same year, we officially got together after Olive and Hiccup broke up for good.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

We technically did not have an official first date.

What was their first kiss like?

Our first kiss was familiar, home-like, it was something I’ve never experienced before, yet would be able to recognize every time.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

Olive was my first wife, and, as that One Direction song goes (which was on our wedding playlist, and it’s also on our vow renewal playlist), “I wanna be your last first kiss...even though I wasn’t her first kiss, I wanted to be her last first kiss...and I still do, even though we’ve been married almost ten years.

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

I am 6’4, which makes me a foot and 4 inches taller than Olive. I am 5 years older...gods, I can’t believe I’ll be 36 at the end of May this year!!!

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

As you might already know, Ruffnut – Olive’s adoptive sister – had a huge crush on me when Ruff and I first met...but then I laid eyes on Olive. Ruffnut soon gave up, knowing even then what Olive and I were going to have together would be special.

Who takes the lead in social situations?

I do. Sometimes, I have to give Olive a gentle nudge to say or do something, since she has social anxiety. My poor girl.

Who gets jealous easier?

I definitely get jealous easier...but we both are equally jealous when we have to spend time with someone who isn’t each other.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Neither of us do that.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

I did.

What are their primary love languages?

Touch, quality time, words of affirmation.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

I’m the one who usually uses cheesy pick-up lines.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

We cuddle as often as we can.

Who initiates kisses?

I usually initiate kisses, asking her gently if I can kiss her. If she says no, I drop it. If she says yes, I gently cup her cheek and kiss her.

Who’s the big and little spoon?

I am definitely the big spoon, and not just because of my size...Olive is so delicate, so amazingly astonishing, I don’t mind being the big spoon.

What are their favorite things to do together?

We love watching movies together, listening to music together, and reading together.

Who’s better at comforting the other?

I am definitely better at comforting Olive, but she does have her moments comforting me.

Who’s more protective?

We’re both equally protective of one another. Olive is giving me permission to talk about this, so...Hiccup has attacked/tried to end Olive more than once over the past week or so...and neither of us know what to do about him. Astrid and her kids, and Valka, have since moved to Wolfsbane to get away from Hiccup, and Olive can’t help but blame herself for their troubles.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

We both prefer physical affection. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to actually give my Olive a hug.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

All That You Are, by the London Film Score Orchestra

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

*I smile* I call Olive “my love”, “love”, “darling”, “honey”, “sweetie”, “sweetheart”.

Who remembers the little things?

*smiles again* That reminds me of another 1D song that’s on both our wedding playlist and our vow renewal playlist.

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

I proposed to Olive on March 6, 2015. We were watching Finding Nemo, eating pepperoni and cheese sandwiches and drinking Coca-Cola. I wrote her a letter, and she eventually said yes.

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

The wedding. It was a Thursday morning, June 18, 2015. Pretty much the whole of Old Berk (plus my parents and sister) attended. If you want to know more about our big day, please let us know!

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

Gods, how we’ve tried to have children...we most recently tried back in early March, but we ended up miscarrying. Olive blames herself, even though it wasn’t her fault...my Aunt Grace blames her, though...for not giving me an heir...Aunt Grace could go off the ends of the Earth if I had any say in it. She’s awful.

Do they have any pets?

Nope.

Who’s the stricter parent?

Please read number 3’s paragraph.

Who worries the most?

Olive. But I do have my moments of worry.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Olive does. That’s my girl!

How do they celebrate holidays?

We just hang out with one another’s families, being together.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

We’re both equally guilty of that.

Who’s the better cook?

Olive is a former culinary student, so I like to say that she’s the better cook. But I do cook sometimes when my wife needs a break or she’s too tired to cook.

Who likes to dance?

The last time we danced together was when we were listening to music. It was either sometime last year or the year before that...neither of us can remember, but we do remember we’ve danced together since our wedding day almost a decade ago.

Thank you for asking these questions! Olive and I both really appreciate it!

Fleshing Out Your Selfships!

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

What was their first impression of each other?

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

What was their first kiss like?

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Who gets jealous easier?

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

What are their primary love languages?

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Who initiates kisses?

Who’s the big and little spoon?

What are their favorite things to do together?

Who’s better at comforting the other?

Who’s more protective?

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Who remembers the little things?

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

Do they have any pets?

Who’s the stricter parent?

Who worries the most?

Who kills the bugs in the house?

How do they celebrate holidays?

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Who’s the better cook?

Who likes to dance?

(stolen from hatorishimaselfships who took it from a proshipper who took it from an anti)

[truelovez2]

Love Languages

Love is a universal language that transcends boundaries and cultures. However, the way we express and receive love can vary greatly from person to person. This is where the concept of love languages comes in. Understanding love languages can profoundly improve our relationships and help us communicate love more effectively. In this article, we will explore the meaning of love languages, the different types of love languages, and provide examples to help you identify your own love language.

Love Language Meaning 

Love languages refer to the different ways in which people understand and express love. It is a concept developed by Dr. Gary Chapman, a renowned relationship counselor and author of the book “The 5 Love Languages.” According to Dr. Chapman, there are five primary love languages: words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time, and physical touch. Each person has a primary love language that is most meaningful to them, and understanding this language can greatly enhance our relationships.

Love Language Types 

Let’s delve deeper into each of the five love languages to understand their meaning and significance: 

Words of Affirmation 

For individuals whose primary love language is words of affirmation, hearing verbal expressions of love and appreciation is paramount. They thrive on compliments, encouragement, and kind words. Simple phrases like “I love you,” “You did an amazing job,” or “You mean the world to me” can make a significant impact on their emotional well-being. 

Acts of Service 

Those whose love language is acts of service value actions that demonstrate love and care. This could be something as simple as making them a cup of coffee in the morning or helping with household chores. When someone with this love language is shown love through acts of service, they feel deeply understood and cherished. 

Receiving Gifts 

Individuals who appreciate receiving gifts as a love language find great meaning in tangible symbols of love. It’s not about the monetary value of the gift, but rather the thoughtfulness and effort put into choosing it. A small trinket or a handwritten note can make them feel loved and appreciated. 

Quality Time 

For those with quality time as their primary love language, undivided attention and meaningful interactions are essential. This means setting aside distractions and spending focused time together. Engaging in activities that both parties enjoy and having deep conversations create a strong sense of connection and love. 

Physical Touch 

Physical touch is a powerful love language that involves meaningful physical contact like hugs, holding hands, or cuddling. People with this love language feel most loved when they experience physical closeness and affection. A simple touch on the arm or a warm embrace can speak volumes to them. 

Different Love Languages 

It is important to note that everyone has a unique combination of love languages, and they can change over time. It’s not uncommon to have a primary love language and a secondary one that also holds significance. Understanding your partner’s love language and expressing love in a way that resonates with them can deeply strengthen your bond. 

Love Language Examples 

To provide a better understanding of how love languages manifest in real life, here are a few examples: 

Words of Affirmation Example 

Sarah’s primary love language is words of affirmation. When her partner, John, notices her efforts and tells her how proud he is of her accomplishments, Sarah feels loved and appreciated. These words of encouragement fuel her motivation and strengthen their relationship. 

Acts of Service Example 

Adam’s love language is acts of service. When his wife, Emily, surprises him by preparing his favorite meal after a long day at work, Adam feels deeply cared for. The act of service shows him that Emily understands his needs and wants to make his life easier. 

Receiving Gifts Example 

Lily’s primary love language is receiving gifts. When her best friend, Anna, surprises her with a small token of appreciation, like a book she knows Lily has been wanting to read, Lily feels a profound sense of love and thoughtfulness. The gift signifies that Anna values their friendship. 

Quality Time Example 

Michael’s love language is quality time. When his partner, David, plans a weekend getaway for just the two of them, Michael feels cherished and loved. The uninterrupted time together allows them to deepen their connection and create lasting memories. 

Physical Touch Example 

Sophia’s primary love language is physical touch. When her partner, Alex, holds her hand or gives her a warm hug, Sophia feels an overwhelming sense of love and security. The physical touch reassures her of Alex’s affection and strengthens their emotional bond. 

Conclusion 

Understanding love languages is an invaluable tool in building and maintaining healthy relationships. By identifying our own love language and recognizing the love languages of those around us, we can communicate love more effectively and create deeper connections. Take the time to explore the different love languages, and you will discover a world of love and understanding waiting to be unlocked.

[warningsine]

Love languages – the concept coined by Baptist pastor Gary Chapman some 30 years ago – has taken the relationships world by storm. It’s often the “go-to” topic on first dates, and for those in relationships love languages are said to provide deep, meaningful and reliable insights into how relationships function. Putting love languages into action is believed to increase relationship happiness.

The concept clearly has appeal. At last count, 20m copies have been sold worldwide of Chapman’s 1992 book The Five Love Languages: The Secret to Love that Lasts. The book has been translated into 49 languages.

There is only one catch. There is little evidence to support the idea that love languages are “a thing”, or that love languages do much of anything to help improve relationships.

What are the love languages?

According to Chapman, there are five love languages. Each of these love languages is a way to communicate your love to your romantic partner.

In his role as a Baptist pastor, Chapman had been counselling couples for years. It was through his observations of couples that the idea of love languages was born.

He believed love languages were an intuitive and simple way to teach couples about how to tune into each other’s ways of expressing love. And so, he began running seminars for husbands and wives, and the popularity of his seminars grew.

The five love languages are:

(1) acts of service (doing something that helps a partner, such as running an errand)

(2) physical touch (demonstrating physical affection, such as giving your partner a hug or kiss)

(3) quality time (spending time together and giving each other undivided attention)

(4) gifts (giving your partner a present that communicates thoughtfulness, effort, and/or expense)

(5) words of affirmation (such as expressing your admiration, or complimenting your partner).

Chapman suggests that people typically use all love languages, but that most people tend to rely on one love language most of the time. This is referred to as a person’s primary love language.

According to Chapman, people are more satisfied in their relationships when both partners match when it comes to their primary love language. However, people experience less satisfaction in their relationships when both partners do not share the same primary love language.

Another important aspect of the love languages concept is that relationships are likely to deliver the greatest satisfaction when a person can understand their partner’s love language, and act in ways that “speaks to” their partner’s language. In essence, this idea is about tuning in to what a partner wants.

This is an idea that has existed across many models and theories about how relationships function well. That is, responding to a partner in a way that meets their needs and wants makes a person feel understood, validated, and cared for.

What does the evidence tell us?

Despite the popularity of the theory of love languages, only a handful of studies have been conducted and reported over the past 30 years. Research is largely inconclusive, although the balance sways more towards refuting rather than endorsing the love languages concept.

Let’s start with how love languages are assessed. In popular culture, the Love Language QuizTM is an online questionnaire that people can complete to find out about their love languages. Despite millions of individuals having taken the quiz (according to 5lovelanguages.com), there are no published findings as to the reliability and validity of the measure.

Researchers have developed their own version of the love languages survey, but the findings did not meet the statistical thresholds to suggest the survey adequately captured the five love languages. Also, their findings did not support the idea that there are five love languages.

Furthermore, a qualitative study in which researchers coded the written responses of undergraduate students to questions about how they express love, suggested there may be six love languages. However, the researchers reported difficulty agreeing on how some of the students’ responses neatly fitted into Chapman’s love languages, particularly in the categories of “words of affirmation” and “quality time”.

Next, let’s turn to research testing a core premise of the love language theory: that couples with matching love languages experience greater satisfaction than those who do not. Evidence for this premise is very mixed.

Three studies, including one that used Chapman’s Love Language Quiz, have found that couples with matching love languages were no more satisfied than couples who were mismatched.

However, a more recent study found that partners with matching love languages experienced greater relationship and sexual satisfaction than partners with mismatched love languages. This research also found that men who reported greater empathy and perspective-taking had a love language that better matched the language of their partner.

Finally, what does the research say about whether having a better understanding of your partner’s love language is linked to higher relationship satisfaction? Only two studies have investigated this question. Both found that knowing your partner’s primary love language did predict relationship satisfaction in the present or into the future.

So, as you can see, not only is there very little research investigating love languages, but the research to date doesn’t strengthen belief in the powerful properties of love languages.

[progressivemother]

Love languages

My husband and I each have our own love language. I am sure you have heard of these. We make sure to practice them all but we also have to remember the ones that resonates with us the most. I didn't know about love languages until I got married and my husband actually explained them to me.

There are five love languages:

1. Words of Affirmation - spoken or written words of love

2. Quality Time - quality time focused on your spouse

3. Receiving Gifts - thoughtful and meaningful gifts

4. Acts of Service - looking to serve your spouse

5. Physical Touch - a touch that conveys love for your spouse

My husband's love languages are physical touch and gifts. So he loves to touch me on almost a constant basis and give gifts.

My love languages are words of affirmation and quality time. So I prefer to use those as a way to express love.

In the beginning of our marriage he used his love languages and I couldn't understand why he thought giving gifts was important. I have always thought it was superficial and a waste of time and money. I've never been one who cares for physical love either. It never spoke to me.

He apparently felt disappointed when I didn't get excited for gifts and when I always told him to stop touching me so much. He had to sit me down and communicate what love languages are and what his were. I understood and explained mine after I got a grip on each which didn't take long. They are simple.

Now we practice all five but we do focus a little more on what ones mean the most to us. So I have gotten used to his little gifts and the touching and I reciprocate. It's the same with him. He now tells me everyday that he loves and appreciates me and he has me sit by him on the couch. We don't have to speak during this time. I of course reciprocate because it means the most to me.

The one that doesn't mean much to us is growing on us and we understand why it's needed. If we don't have money for gifts or we are unable to make a gift we think the other will love, we replace it with acts of service. It can be as simple as him taking out the trash or me helping him paint his truck. It doesn't have to be anything huge.

Until couples learn to speak each other's love languages (and are aware of their own), their relationship will often struggle to reach its full potential. Ours did. I am glad my husband understood how to communicate with me.

Keep in mind that of the five love languages, only one or two may be languages that resonate with your spouse from a perspective of how they interpret love. This certainly doesn't mean that you should not practice all five. In fact, you should be doing all five for your spouse on a routine basis. At first, we felt a little outside of our comfort zones when we did this because these weren't our original love languages but over time it becomes more meaningful and it helped our marriage improve more.