#how to write a love letter
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sandramiksaauthor · 4 months ago
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How to Write a Love Letter for Valentine's Day (6 Steps) 💌
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kedreeva · 5 months ago
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Can I have your attention for a minute
It's nothing bad!
I wanted to share a little website with you, one i have used in the past. It's called Future Me.
All it is is a little web based word processor, that you fill in a letter to your future self, fill in your email address, pick a date, and hit send. The site will store the letter, and send it to your designated email on your designated date. It's completely free, though they accept donations if you like the service.
I've used this site for YEARS, it's not at all new, but it has at times been a little bastion of hope and good things for me. Every year on my birthday, I send a letter to myself, and I receive the one I sent the year before. I write about what I've been through that year, what I've accomplished, and what my hopes are for the year to come.
I have cried every single time I've gotten that letter. I know it's from me, but by the time it comes around, I've usually forgotten I sent it. But... every year on my birthday, I receive a letter from Past Me, who cared enough to sit down and have hopes about my future. And it makes me want to pay it forward to Future Me, and dare to hope that she, too, will remember that someone cared a lot about her future, and choose to keep going even further.
Anyway, I am giving you the link now, because there are definitely going to be rough times ahead of us, but I feel like maybe writing ahead to Future You, to the You that has made it past the rough times, might make them ever so slightly easier to endure. Knowing that Future You is waiting at the end of the line to welcome you, holding onto the letters you sent.
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kastalani123 · 5 months ago
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Not my usual content, but I just. I wanna ramble, ig.
Do you understand how baffled I was about how the vampire book, written by a man in 1897, is essentially a PSA about how important proper communication is?? Even after I scrolled through Tumblr, saw the memes, read people geeking out about the relationships (platonic and romantic) in Dracula, I was still caught off guard, because. Like. Everything in this book is about communication.
Sure, it's kind of a given, considering it's an epistolary novel partially made up of letters between the characters, but. I dunno. From Dracula controlling Johnathan's lettres, van Hellsing refusing to tell anyone shit, the men keeping Mina out of the loop, to Mina using her telepathic link with Dracula, it's. It's literally all about how important actually talking to each other and sharing information is. Fuck, throw in the fact that "Harker", Mina and Jonathan's, arguably the main characters, last name means "to listen"/"eavesdropper", and that the book is Mina's in-universe creation to help compile, organize, and share what they know about Dracula, and the book's very essence becomes centered around information-sharing!
And I just. The narrative punishes just about every secret hidden, every time the characters don't communicate. There's the obvious, Dracula keeping Johnathan from sending out letters for help and Mina getting bitten because the men leave her home alone, but also. Van Hellsing not telling Lucy's mom that the garlic flowers and closed windows and so on are the treatment and she is not to touch them is what kills Lucy and her mom! They maybe could have survived if he just told them what's happening/what he's doing! And even the godsdamned telegram he sends to Seward! If he had just addressed it properly (communicated to the telegram boy properly!) then Seward wouldn't have been late and maybe could have prevented the massacre!
There's also Jonathan's diary right after he finally reunites with Mina, and obviously Mina's whole ✨ thing ✨ with the diary during their wedding is like. Peak romance, but Johnathan doesn't fully get better until Mina reads and shares it with van Hellsing and van Hellsing assures Johnathan that he's not insane. Sure, it's an oversimplification of PTSD and healing and such, but it makes sense, especially if you consider communication and information sharing as a major theme! Only sharing his experiences, reading through them himself after blocking off the memories, is what heals him! He cannot get better without knowing what happened, and without others knowing what happened, because knowing and sharing is important.
Renfield's also an interesting case. I don't have the book with me right now to check, but as far as I remember, he tries to talk about Dracula, tries to get Seward to release him from the asylum so Dracula can't use him against Mina, but is dismissed entirely; as a consequence, Dracula gets in the building, kills Renfield, and bites Mina.
Even the language barriers! The villagers Johnathan meets on his way to Dracula's castle try so hard to warn him of the danger but they can't. They can't, because they don't speak enough of the same language, but they try so hard. But whatever does get through to Johnathan, such as that woman begging him to take the crucifix she gives him — that might've saved him. It keeps him unsettled and wary and he does keep the crucifix, which wards Dracula off. They can't communicate the full extent of the danger, but what they managed is probably responsible for him surviving.
And the whole idea is even mentioned in-text! Sure, Lucy saying that a wife ought to share everything she knows with her husband is definitely sexism-flavoured, but Johnathan says it too! He says that his idea of an ideal marriage is one without secrets! And Johnathan is effeminate, yes, he spends a good chunk of the book as the "damsel in distress", but he is still the hero! He is still the one who kills Dracula (with Quincey), and can therefore be assumed to be an intended role model. The (male) main character and hero of an 1897 novel says that a good relationship relies on communication. Sure, he doesn't always stick to it, mostly by agreeing to keep Mina out of the loop when van Hellsing pushes for it, but that doesn't discount that that is what Stoker set as the ideal.
I just. I love this book so much. It subverted just about all expectations I might've had about it and I'm so glad for it. It's undeniably a product of its time, with plenty of racism and sexism and ableism, but it's also so. Not, at the same time? It's so good.
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carebeardean · 8 months ago
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Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.
Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.
So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.
then Edwin starts writing back.
Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.
Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.
Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.
Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).
Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.
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r-aindr0p · 2 months ago
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Oh yeah like two days ago I woke up and I instantly remembered this guy for no particular reason
Green bike guy.....
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bleedingcoffee42 · 3 months ago
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katoobee · 7 months ago
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colorkiller,,,,, again
i tried real hard to write their dialogue in the proper arabic (standard arabic for killer, egyptian arabic for color) and i hope to god they say what i want them to say, i was clinging to translators like my life depended on it
context for this is like. killer comes home during stage 1 and assumes based off the DT on his face and how tired and shaky he is, he must be having a rough day. fragile killer being held by color
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aside from that, my own headcanon AU territory!!! killer with Night Terror :D
"HOLD STILL."
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i plan to make another proper post about NT, covering his powers and design and stuff like that. for now a brief explanation
NT got gross hands that bring the worst out of people. its like acid to everything and not just dream. amplifies the negativity of anyone who touches it like tenfold
utilizes that to apprehend killer and inflict the NastyTM upon him, which sends him frighteningly quickly from stage 1 to stage 3, and sets him loose upon anyone fighting NT
aka "sic em boy"
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obsidianbit · 2 years ago
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I love this gay ass show with its literally life ending injuries that heal immediately, but only when convenient to the plot, and its ridiculous use of modern phrases, and its laughing in the face of historical accuracy, and its kissing the face of the fans instead of trying to outwit them, and the way everyone involved in the show seem to go 'I KNOW RIGHT! I'M EXCITED TOO!' instead of mocking the fans
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shisasan · 16 days ago
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June 9, 1897 Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: a love story in letters (1897-1926)
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stardustinthesky · 22 days ago
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Thank you for the letters.
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boobchuy · 7 months ago
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hell yeah
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dandeliont3aandsageleaves · 22 days ago
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I'm over 1000 hours in this game. I've completed multiple runs in every difficulty.
I'm still finding new locations.
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sunshinesere · 11 months ago
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Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone / This is How You Lose the Time War
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fallminlove · 4 months ago
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[03:29]
Your body is tired as hell, your mind is tired as hell, every part of your body is screaming for you to get some rest, but you just can’t fall asleep.
You tried reading some ebooks, hoping the words on the screen can knock you out like reading a textbook.
No use.
You tried mindlessly scrolling through some short videos online, hoping the same types of video on your feed will make your phone slowly slip out of your hands.
No use.
You were about to try another method to help yourself sleep till you hear a little groan next to you.
An arm gently wraps around your waist, you didn’t realize how much you were shuffling around and that must have woken up the boy next to you, he mumbles softly, “why are you still up?”
You locked your phone and put it on the nightstand on your side, you snuggled closer to him in bed, “sorry for waking you up Seungkwan…” you comb through his silky soft hair with your fingers, trying to help him to go back to his slumber “I’m having some trouble falling asleep…”
Even though it was pitch black in the room, you can feel that Seungkwan gave a worried look at your response. He gently takes your hand away from brushing his hair, holding them softly under the cozy covers, and shifting his body so he’s now facing you.
He hums out a little tune, the pitch was low as if the melody was slowly rocking you back and forth on a swinging hammock. He places his other hand on your back, delicately patting to the rhythm of his hums. You felt your eyes starting to get heavy, and whatever power that was keeping you up, slowly started fading away.
Once Seungkwan notices your breathing slowed, he places a little peck on the tip of your nose and whispers, “sweet dreams my darling.”
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ticklingtimetickstotest · 9 months ago
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Just wanted to share this song with you.🤍
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pettyprocrastination · 11 months ago
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I'm sorry to the gang but I think initially Aemond is a bad lover.
Like, to actually think about it.
His first ever sexual interaction is with a prostitute twice his age that he was coerced into by his older brother, and it seems like he's never seen that woman again until season one when he returned to the brothel in search of aegon hence her speaking on how much he's grown since she last saw him which he seemed visibly uncomfortable within.
It's likely that his interaction with Sylvie was his first and only sexual interaction.
Which means that when he married you and it comes time to consummate your marriage and try for an heir. The sex is...less than ideal.
It's methodical and routine. Your husband above you rutting into you until he cums and then some because the maestro said his seed must "settle" for a child to take hold.
In his mind, sex is done out of obligation and dedication. It's an expectation for a man of a noble house to sire a son to continue the name. And what does he know of pleasure? The vile whispers his brother croons with no intention other than to see his younger brother uncomfortable? The prostitute he laid with before he was even a man himself? Those situations did nothing but make his skin crawl- it's no wonder that his sex is nothing further than noble obligation to his wife and his lineage.
It's less than an issue in your eyes until a knight tasked with standing guard by your door each night speaks I'll of the prince to his brothers in arms.
It spreads like wildfire before the day is even finished. What was once gentle ribbing between men in arms became vile wishes towards you- the dragon prince's wife. Conversation of how it's "a damn shame to let a pretty little thing like her go to waste" and how if they had their chance they'd show you how a proper man lays with a woman.
And maybe one idiotic son of a lord brought into the kingsguard, egged on by too much wine and the racacous laughter of his brethren jests that perhaps one night he'll slip into your room and show you how a proper man fucks when your husband is a way.
"Let the cyclops ride his dragon if it means the princess will ride mine."
Unfortunate for him that our husband happened to be entering the training yard just in time to hear his promise to his brothers in arms.
Now the thing with Aemond is that he's deeply prideful, but also so, so, so desperate for approval. He's spent his entire life chasing it and getting so little in return. His mother was insistent on what makes a good husband- loyalty, dedication, listening to ones wife unlike the way he watched his father wave away her concerns all throughout his childhood. He was adamant about being the proper husband in every strict tradition and stiff display of affection he offered you-
but nobody helped him with sex. So to learn through the vile words of some idiotic guards that he has left his wife wanting becomes the only thought in his mind and must be rectified.
You've only just begun your day when your husband slips into your room, telling whoever is stationed by your door to leave as he locks it behind him before standing before you, hands twitching and eye looking anywhere in the room but you.
So nervous, like a little boy all over again.
When you ask him gently what's wrong he does not hide it from you.
"I have left you wanting, haven't I?"
You let out an incredulous laugh, so taken aback by the blunt question you don't know what would be an appropriate response.
To say he hasn't would be a lie.
To say he has could harm his ego, further spurring his rage.
Instead, you gently cup his face where a pale hand envelopes your own.
"Most men do not concern themselves with the comfort of their wife."
Your blaise response hurts more than saying yes.
"I am not most men."
Your husband, the crown prince and rider of a generations old war hardened beast, looks at you with eager eyes and tells you- asks you to show him how you wish to be touched.
How to fuck you.
You spend the night In his arms, gentle guiding him on where you wish to be kissed, bitten, and licked. How to hold you, where to touch and how hard. Your husband is a receptive one, content to go for hours upon hours until your legs are trembling and there are tears in your eyes because once he learned the utter euphoria of seeing your sing his name in the breathy moan there was nothing he desired more in this wretched world to hear it again and again and again.
When you do finally rest, bodies slick with sweat and exhaustion creeping through your veins, you find yourself wrapped in his arms and his head tucked into the crook of your shoulder. He says nothing about siring a child, or the maestros advice, but simply kisses the spot just beneath your ear before letting himself slowly drift into a deep sleep, the first moment within your marriage that he is truly relaxed in your presence.
The next morning his family is kind enough to say nothing of the bite marks lining your neck as you eat breakfast, just as they are mindful to not ask of the head that once belonged to a member of the kings guard that now belonged on a spike before the castle walls.
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