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Hi! I’m ruby, i Was wondering if i could get either a 🐰 or 💐 love letter from dabi 👉👈 i’m she/her, and as for a prompt i really could only think of domestic things or anything of the sort. I just wanna show him he’s loved :((
... you got mail !
Letter #4
Mr. J,
I wonder what the etiquette is on sending dirty pictures. Like, I would think there's people who read these letters and while the idea of my pictures not making it to you sucks, I have to admit that the exhibitionist in me totally likes the idea of some strangers getting off thinking about all this. Maybe I should start saying some naughty things, like all the things I'm very impatiently waiting to do to you. Until I see you, I'll just have to do them to myself. (Enjoy that imagery)
I don't know if you sent it or not but I got a package on Friday with a bunch of different home remedies for morning sickness. If you did, thank you thank you. These ginger candies and raspberry green tea have both been a lifesaver. I never liked getting sick but this all day nausea sucks. My sister knows I've been feeling down so she's coming over in a little bit. She said we could watch some of my horror movies but I know that's just Marley code for she's putting on the Sound of Music. She's apparently a godmother now. Sam Evans's ex had his baby, a little girl named Anna. I barely get through a conversation with Mars without her squealing about the little thing.
Mom and her new husband are going away for New Years Eve and from what I heard, your dad cancelled his party. I don't have plans for New Years anyway, not like I'd end up going there. I hope you’re doing okay. I love you. @jacexanderson
Ruby
Letter One
Letter Two
Letter Three
Letters For Christmas | Four
Secret Santa Posts
@akb723 your secret santa fic continues!
21st December 1953
My Most Amazing Wife,
Today you cradle our newborn son in your arms. I thought I knew happiness before he was born, and now I know I was only experiencing a fraction of it. I love my daughters with all my heart and now I have a son (oh God! A Son!) adding his own space into my heart.
With each child you bear me, the more my love and happiness grows beyond measure. How can I express what you’ve given me? The love and devotion you show with each painful moment fills me with more pride than any accomplishment I have ever done.
You are the reason I wake up in the morning and you are the reason I sleep at night (especially with your round arse pressed tight against my front. I do adore cuddling you mo Sorcha.) From you has come these three tiny, perfect pieces of my heart. Each one adding more joy, tears, laughter (and I’m sure gray hairs) to my life.
You amaze me at every turn. I was determined to never let you have a moment of pain again after the war. Then with Faith, both of you nearly being lost to me, I swore to myself I’d never touch you again, never put you in that situation. Oh, how you changed my mind! With one sly smile and that quirk of your eyebrow and your voice low and seductive saying, ‘well are you coming to bed?’ (this is still one of the moments that plays over and over in my mind when I think of you, and I cannot help but grow with arousal each time!) had me sprinting to your side naked as a jay.
I’ll never regret the outcome of our love. How could I? You were meant to be a mother. Once, you said that you didn’t know how to be a mother; that mine was as close as you’d ever gotten to understanding how that relationship worked. You cried into my shoulder the day you realized you were pregnant with Faith, and I told you then what I’ll say hundred thousand times more: you are a fantastic mother. You already care so deeply for a child you can’t feel or see yet, and that is something not everyone has. You were born for this. You’re a damn good nurse (now doctor) and that caring nature will only expand. If my mother was your basis for what a mother should be like, then I know what you’ll be like and our children will be well loved, cared for, and have the best mother in the world.’
Was I wrong, Sassenach?
You just smiled up at me as our newest just gurgled into your breast. Your skin is soaked in sweat and your hair is a mess, but you have never looked so beautiful as you do now. His birth was long and painful for you, but the least life threatening of the three. You’re singing to him now and his baby-blue eyes are drifting shut. They’re darker than both Faith and Bree’s were at birth…I’m hoping they’ll turn to whisky, like yours.
I’m still in awe at his beauty and that he’s here! God, he’s here! Will I ever get over the miracle of a new child? I hope I never will.
‘What shall we name him?’ You’ve asked me and given me a puzzled look crossed with a smile. ‘Can I read what you’re so focused on?’ You’re smirking. You know this is for you, so I’ll answer in here.
Let’s name him William.
William Quinton Brian Fraser.
Your Lovestruck Husband,
Jamie
Jamie leaned over and kissed Claire’s temple, then the top of his newborn son’s head.
“He’s beautiful, Claire.” He whispered hoarsely. His voice cracking with his tears of love and joy.
“So are you going to let me read it?” Claire asked flirtatiously, grinning brighter when Jamie laughed and slid the freshly penned letter into her hand.
“Go ahead then.”
Jamie took the sleeping babe from her arms, letting her read in peace. His son moved and grunted, but settled easily against his chest.
“Hello my wee lad. I love ye verra, verra much. I canna wait for ye to meet your sisters. But I have to warn ye, they’ll probably try to have ye dressed up in all manner of doll clothes.” His son squirmed again. Jamie chuckled, stroking his thumb from browline to jaw of the tiny infant.
Unlike Faith and Brianna, his son was born with the lightest blonde hair atop his head. “Faith’s turned a beautiful caramel similar to Claire’s, Bree’s has stayed a shocking copper, so what color will you have my son?” He whispered, kissing the top of the small head and breathing in deep the newborn baby smell.
A sob coming from the bed made him look up. Claire had one hand clutched to her mouth the other shaking and holding the letter. Tears streamed down her face, striking the page and blurring the ink.
“Claire?”
She sobbed again. Jamie quickly went to her side pulling her head to his shoulder.
“I’m fine,” she croaked. “Your letter was so beau-u-utiful Jamie.” She sobbed again against his shoulder. “I love you so much.”
He felt rather than heard the words. Leaning down he kissed the top of her head. “Tha gaol agam ort, mo chridhe.”
She smiled and snuggled into his shoulder briefly before straightening up and wiping the tears away.
“Hand me William. I think it might be time for him to eat.”
Jamie smiled brightly and kissed his wife on the lips as he passed the now squirming, hungry baby to his mother.
Letters to Him: Just one day, all I ask is for you to notice
My mother tells me that there is no such word as “can’t”. She preaches on constantly about positive thinking and with that kind of thinking, you get positive results.
Honestly, I’ve tried.
But, with you, it’s so hard to think positive. I’ll never get the chance to meet you or to hang out with you. I’ll never be able to be your friend because I came too late and having to fight for your attention is tiring. I try and I want to keep trying and a small part of me does. Admittedly, I did, and still do, have a nice sized crush on you but I know that I can’t have you.
You’re so much easier to get into contact with than a lot of famous people and I still feel like you’re too high to reach. I’ve given up the idea of a crush going any further the moment I realized it even developed but I can’t seem to give up the want of being your friend.
You’re only five years older than me and it feels like we’re on the same exact wavelength. I don’t want to know you to say that I’m friends with you.
I’ve seen a lot of people claim that people only care about you because you’re famous and that may be true but on this end, I care because even though you have no idea who I am, we are friends and I care for my friends.
Yesterday was such a bad day. It was so bad and it was one of those days where I wish we were actually friends so that I could just talk to you.
I want to stop saying that I can’t be friends with you, that meeting you is impossible, but it’s hard because at this rate, it’s literally impossible and all I can do is watch you from afar.
Honestly, that sucks.
-A.B.
Dear Arden,
The depression is back. It was a great day but my best friend was supposed to come over. She hasn't texted me back for five and a half hours because she's with her boyfriend. I have fears of being abandoned and she promised that wouldn't happen. Now I fear that it is happening. I don't know what to do. But I've lost everyone lately. I don't want to lose her too. All I want is to cuddle my mom but she's in bed. I don't know what to do and the last thing I want is to get up and work tomorrow morning. I'm sorry Arden. I hope you had a good day. Love, Pam PS I will always be grateful to you
Foolish girl, when will you learn? You think you have a heart that’s Too Big to Fail and if only you could find the courage to share it, surely it would keep someone warm. Naïve girl, don’t you know it’s a fantasy? You have a heart that’s Too Big to Sustain; those who come near blister in the furious heat of your love and flee to more temperate climes.
a.c. Letter IV
January 20, 2015 - Letter Four - Kids
Hey kids. I'm beginning to think that this is really fucking stupid, writing to you guys like this. But you know, I'm pretty stupid so why not? I hope you guys are doing okay. Don't smoke, don't drink, don't do drugs. Basically, don't do what I did when I was your age. Trust me, you're better off just not knowing some things. I don't have any wisdom to impart on you guys today, just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking about you. Don't get in too much trouble, okay? And don't drive me and your father to drink. Get it together. Love you to the moon and back, Mom
To the little girls of the new year;
When the boys in your class tell you that you fight like a girl, with the utmost conviction, assure him that you hit like one, too.
When Tommy pulls down your pants in front of his friends on the playground, do not be ashamed of what you carry between your legs. Do not turn red.
Pull your pants up and walk away.
And when you go home and cry to your mother, I hope she does not ask you, "But did you tell him not to?" or tell you you shouldn't be hanging around with so many boys anyways because people will start to think things.
When your chest begins to rise like dough, put your first bra on unashamedly. And if they tease you for it, remind them that your thirteen year old body can make a human being. Ask them what theirs can do.
And when you go to the bathroom because your stomach feels like it is waging wars inside of it and you find maroon smeared across your underwear, do not feel like you are being punished for being born a woman.
Remember that your body is bleeding for all the years it has ached for respect; for every person that has ended a sentence with "for a woman."
And when a boy's mother calls you a slut for going to his house in a skirt, ask her why she's so afraid that her son won't be able to resist running his hands under it, didn't she raise him to ask first?
When you have your first real job interview, when the man asks you to touch him under his desk so that you can "earn" position, do not let your voice waiver when you tell him to go to hell. And you damn well better tell him to go to hell.
When people ask you if you think it would be easier to be a man, tell them, "I am not sorry that I am a woman. I am sorry that you think I have sinned for it." and mean it.
