#letter one

[a-franken-meme-a-day]

Day One!

[IMAGE ID: text that says “Margaret Seville: living her life

Her brother in her mail:

Underneath this is a polar bear peeking it’s head out of a snowbank. It is captioned, ‘bonjour.’ END ID]

[amajikilvr]

Shoto - 🐰 - Name : Mitsuki or any linked nickname - She - Prompt : In which they became closer and closer after the UA Sports Festival : train together, a lot, she sometimes makes him some gift for some special occasions (his hero provisional license..). She's just a kind and friendly person who always think to others before herself and always try to help in any way ;') she's always really supportive and always try to comfort people. Thank you and congrats for your 200 followers ❤❤

YOU’VE GOT MAIL ...

[flower-in-the-ashes]

Wife Whispers, An Open Love Letter: Loki’s Gentleness

Letter I, Thursday, 21 May, 2020–during the first wave of Covid19

Do you want to know what it’s like being in love with him? There are too many words, too many things, too many emotions to count.

He’s so beautiful, but not just in the ways people can see. He’s beautiful when he’s picking up the broken, and he’s beautiful when he breaks. There is nothing like the beauty of seeing him interact with a child, or bite into a peach, or that softness he has in the dawn light.

He’s kind, even when I don’t think I deserve it. I have more empathy because of him. I’m a better person because of him. Being with him makes me want to be better, to live freely and unapologetically, to love without reason. He has nothing if not his unconditional love and his bruised heart.

He’s always been gentle with me. His hands are softer than silk, and his arms around me when I weep into his shoulder and press my face into his neck—those are the purest, surest things in the entire world. He knows that being strong means being gentle, means knowing how not to break some things.

People either seem to think that he’s evil incarnate, or that him being soft with someone is somehow equally bad. He is whatever, however, whoever he wants to be, that you need, that fits the situation. And with me he’s soft, and that’s not a terrible thing. It’s not a terrible thing to wake up sobbing and immediately feel his hand rubbing gentle circles on my back as he sits next to me. It’s not a terrible thing to lay across his lap and look to the stars, to play with his hair while we both sit on the ground in our garden, to lightly trace over every scar each of us has, or to see the wonder and joy on his face when he can feel a new child kicking.

Loki is the sweetest, gentlest spouse anyone could ever be blessed with loving, and none of his gentleness and compassion negate anything else about him. He still has tattoos all over his body, he still smokes and swears and drinks and lies and steals and is a dab hand with a blade. The thing is, these are not mutually exclusive, nor do they, for me, make him any less soft or less Loki. This god can sit next to me and hold my hand while an unlit cig hangs from his lips. He can crawl into bed behind me, wrap me in his arms, rub those damn cold feet onto the backs of my calves (the nerve), and press his face into my neck with whiskey on his breath. He’s come home with blood on his hands, literally on his hands and on his clothes and in his hair, and the first thing he did was still to kiss me, to look me over and reassure himself that I was fine.

And I am one-hundred percent certain that I am not the only one who experiences his kindness, his softness, his gentleness. Loki is a strong god because of these things, because he has so much heart and so much love to give. He is fucking fearless when it comes to loving and caring, and that’s his beauty and his vice. He’s been hurt so many times because he gives so much (so so much of himself), and he doesn’t deserve to be hurt. He deserves the same sort of compassion and unconditional love that he gives others. (And that is one reason I will always one-thousand percent stan Sigyn, besides her being fucking awesome, I mean hello.)

Loki is quite frankly breathtaking and I will stand by that statement until my dying breath.

[wallpaperandquotes]

«Ita fac, mi Lucili: vindica te tibi; tempus quod adhuc aut auferebatur aut subripiebatur aut excidebat collige et serva »

My dear Lucilius – set yourself free for your own sake; gather and save your time, which till lately has been forced from you, or filched away, or has merely slipped from your hands.

Moral letters to Lucilius, Letter 1

~ Seneca

[itssrlove]

Letter 1- Leaving Home

Dear Penelope,

   This is it. I’m going and I’m going to go live my life. I’m taking your words and leaving this boring filled town. You were right, I do need to live my life and find my happiness... and I will. I’m headed to London. I know, I know. “Why go from country side Texas girl to new born Londoner?”, you might ask, but I’ve always wanted to live the simple London life since studying about it in my world geography class my freshman year. So “why not” is the question. I got a plane ticket to London and I’ll be out of this crusty old town in a jiff. Thanks again for the wise words and inspiration. Talk to you soon.

- S

[letterstoababyillneverknow]

I needed somewhere to process this, where no one knows who I am, but I won't be alone. The people that love me will just try to encourage me, try to tell me I *will* be a mother someday. Maybe I will. Maybe that diagnosis won't be true. Maybe someday the aching will stop and I'll have a baby in my arms and I'll laugh and laugh at the woman who cried about never having children when she didn't even know their father yet. Maybe it's stupid to mourn my fertility while still single, especially when so many women have tried for years to get pregnant and gave been unsuccessful, or even lost a baby (or more than one).

But maybe there's a place for me, too. A place where I can grieve the little lives I've wanted so desperately all my life, but was told will not be coming because my body is so broken and sad that it can barely sustain me, let alone a child. And maybe, other women, especially other women of faith, who aren't actively trying to have a baby, but grieve the lives that were never conceived, and who grieve the woman they were before the fateful doctor's appointment where they heard, "I'm sorry, it just won't be possible for you."

...well, maybe this will be a place for those women, too.

And so, I'm going to write. I'm going to write letters here to the baby that only exists in my dreams, because when I was 23, I went in for an appointment to ask for help managing my PCOS, and my obgyn looked at my test results and very kindly told me that it was extremely unlikely I'd be able to get pregnant without medical intervention, something that, as a faithful Catholic, is not as widely available to me. Maybe one day, 30 years from now, I'll show these to a grown-up daughter or son of mine, and she or he will know how dearly I have always wanted them, even when I was single and facing this diagnosis alone. Alternatively, I could read them with a husband someday as we mourn what cannot be together. Who knows, maybe this will be all that's left of me when I die, an ancient, anonymous obituary of a woman who lived a long and happy life, but a life alone all the same.

Maybe I've cracked, and there's a reason I didn't post this on my main blog because I knew my mutuals would worry if I did.

Regardless, here's letter one. I feel a little lighter already.

[cheloumita]

To the one who told me he likes me

First off, I really want to thank you for sincerely confessing your feelings to me. You made your intentions clear and provided me with a sense of clarity that's quite unfamiliar to me. My past has been filled with fleeting glances, unfulfilled assurances, and insincere apologies, so your courage in expressing yourself stands out, especially given that this is the first time you’ve experienced such emotions and made a confession. Your revelation caught me off guard, and those around us were equally surprised. None of us saw this coming. So, I'm curious, what made you like me?

It wasn't too long ago that we became aware of each other's existence. Our interactions have been rather limited, only occurring a few times.

Sure, we spent a couple of days together with a group of friends, but we didn't delve into any deep or lengthy discussions. Our interactions remained light and lacking in depth. We spent time engaging in group activities, with minimal one-on-one conversations. I didn't realize you were closely observing me. Still, given our lack of interaction, you merely caught a glimpse of a facade. The only time we had a meaningful conversation was during dinner with my other friend. Yet, honestly, I didn't think much of it as the conversation didn't flow smoothly – at least from my (and also my friend’s) perspective.

Throughout the limited time we spent together, you only witnessed my fun and carefree side. The side that everyone seems to adore, the side that easily draws people in. However, that's not the complete representation of me. Most of your knowledge about me came from what others have said.

So again, why do you like me? Why was it so easy for you to confirm your feelings after encountering me only a few times?

If I put myself in your shoes, considering the information I had gathered and couple of fun-filled days spent together, I might understand why your feelings developed. It's easy to like someone when they're at their best, and it seems like you've mostly seen me during those moments. You caught me during my positive moments.

However, that version of me is not a constant. I'm not always the life of the party. I'm an introverted, type A, goal-oriented individual who likes to do things alone, never asks for help, and often prioritizes responsibilities over my own well-being. Many nights, I wrestle with exhaustion and tears. I'm not always the joyful companion you met. 

What if you got to know the less appealing aspects of me? The flaws and vulnerabilities? Would your feelings remain unchanged? Could you still confidently say that you like me?

Let’s be honest, your affection is founded on the “beautiful” side of me that you’ve seen. I don’t want to undermine your emotions, but I can’t help but wish you had taken more time to truly get to know me before sharing your feelings.

It would have been beneficial if you had taken more time to observe me, build a friendship, and genuinely get to know me before revealing your feelings. I've had my fair share of heartbreaks, whereas this is your first experience with such emotions. I've seen this scenario play out too many times, knowing exactly how it unfolds. People have confessed their affection for me, demonstrated their sincerity, gotten to know every facet of me, and then disappeared without a word when the thrill faded.

So, if I were to ask you once more, "Why do you like me?" how would you respond? Would your answer be the typical ones like "She's enjoyable to be around" or "I can see her strong connection with God"? Anyone can put on those fronts. What truly resonates with you about me? What can you say about me that isn’t borrowed from someone else’s viewpoint? What led you to believe that confessing your feelings to me was the right move? 

It’s entirely possible that my trust issues are influencing my thoughts here. Nonetheless, these inquiries arise from past encounters; this isn’t my first time navigating such situations. While you’re grappling with these intense emotions for the first time, perhaps your heart is guiding you more than your head. Your current feelings might be overwhelming, all-consuming, and passionate. You might have formed a certain perception of me, and it's probable that as you come to know the real me – the everyday version – you might reconsider and think, "Perhaps I rushed into this" or "Maybe my feelings weren't as strong as I believed."

It is brave to say you like someone, especially when you’re only exposed to their likable side. But it’s even braver for someone to take the time and exhibit enough patience to truly understand someone beyond the surface, to embrace all the less likable parts of you, and THEN decide to stay and accept you. It’s much more admirable for someone to not only consider their own feelings and seek relief by confessing their emotions abruptly just because they can’t contain them anymore, but also to show consideration and patience in withholding those overwhelming feelings. This ensures that the receiving end of such a confession doesn’t feel scared or awkward, but instead feels at ease and safe when you decide to reveal your feelings.

To the one who told me he likes me, you still remain a stranger to me. I hope you took sufficient time to truly understand all parts of me, even the ones that are broken and healing. I hope we laid the foundation of friendship first. I hope I learned to feel at ease with you before anything else. I hope our conversations delved deep enough for you to gauge how I might react to such a sudden confession.

To the one who told me he likes me, please  understand that I'm not an easy person to love. Trust takes time, and I gradually open my heart to others.

To the one who told me he likes me, I hope you get to know the real me with your eyes wide open, not clouded by the hearts in your eyes, but well aware of all my flaws because I know I have tons of them. 

To the one who told me he likes me, I hope you try and find a way of not expressing every feeling that you have, every moment that you have them. Because feelings change abruptly. And declaring a feeling that may (and will!) fade in a few moments turn into a promise, that’s why promises are always broken. I know that very well.