#LOVE LETTERS

[ticklingtimetickstotest]

[kaynineacademy]

there must be a part of you that aches at my absence. there must be a part of you that wonders what i am doing, if i thought of you, if i slept well, if i watched the sunset from my window last night. there must be a part of you that resents everything we did not become.

[angeleternity]

[godilovemyhusband]

God, I love it when he strokes me. On the head, back, arms, neck, hands. I immediately fall asleep.

[lorienfae]

Open windows and open soul, dripping into consciousness, pulling sunsetscape over my eager self as it it was a held comfort of loving arms, breathing... breathing in the melody of cloudlove, permeating the senses, lulling, lilting, something dreamlike, something masculine and sensual... contours of a fantasy, tickling my ear... I could tell you 'you are beautiful' over and over again, and I'd mean it too, but would you believe me?

© Anna S. 2024

[mrs-gojo-satoru]

I’m on about to be on my period and yall. I’m in hysterical mode I’m crying so much over Satoru again like I have been for the past two months. I’m in real grief yall. It’s serious I’m crying as I type this because I just read a fic on TikTok…. He promised us he’d win he promised he was the fucking strongest. Then he died… Sukuna fucking killed Satoru he murdered him… I actually truly feel like something was taken from my soul when I realized a month ago he was gone. I was in denial this whole time. I know I sound mentally ill that’s because I am don’t worry I’m in therapy haha. I’ll miss you for baby please come home but I understand you want to rest darling and tbh that’s perfect as well. Rest easy Satoru my love they won…. They fucking finished that bastard of a curse. All thanks to you though of course they couldn’t have done it without you lovey. Please rest easy knowing that I love you and so do many others. 🤍🩵

[singinthegardns]

lo, te e il mare magari un giorno, forse, non adesso forse un giorno d'inverno in cui sarà comunque estate dentro forse un giorno in cui ad un tratto smetterà di piovere e noi rideremo sotto lo stesso ombrello io, te e il mare te l'avevo promesso e ci spero ancora come si spera negli amori che accadono troppo tardi o troppo presto e che comunque non smettono di accaderti dentro tutti i giorni, ogni momento io, te e il mare magari un giorno in cui non ci sarà più quasi niente da dire, sai, niente da recriminare un giorno in cui non ci sarà bisogno di gridare per farci sentire un giorno in cui gli abbracci basteranno per dirci tutto quanto un giorno in cui avremo meno paura, non come ora un giorno in cui amarsi diventerà facile come respirare prima o poi, possiamo non smettere di sperare? Perché prima o poi non ci sarà niente più da pensare, nessun errore da cui scappare non ci sarà nessun posto in cui tornare prima o poi saremo solo io te e il mare.

[lia-midnight23]

Things i find romantic:

- brushing the hair out of my face ❤️

- LOVE LETTERS 💌

- flowers 💐

- “I can do it myself.” “I know, but let me” 🪐

- museum dates 🖋️

- playing piano for me 🎹

- midnight car rides 🌙

- photo booths 🎞️

- kissing in the rain 🌧️

- random compliments 💋

- personalised CDs 💿

[zaphs-lost-cat]

My heart is fragile and injured. She cries and calls your name in her sleep.

Where have you wandered, beloved?

[ticklingtimetickstotest]

[kaynineacademy]

god i want to be held. gently. not gently. roughly tackled after time away. tucked close with an arm around my waist or a palm on the small of my back. given a hug that screams, "i've missed you, i've missed you, i've missed you." or a lingering kiss that whispers, "you're finally home." i want to be held because you want to hold me.

[flowerytale]

Katherine Mansfield, from a letter to Virginia Woolf (August 1919)

[222heart]

made of love & made to love

[star-girlfriend]

Did u get my vibes man?

[metamorphesque]

from Vahan Teryan's letter to Nvard Toumanyan (translated by Tathev Simonyan)

[letsbeapoemtogether]

Vladimir Mayakovsky, from a letter featured in "Love in the Heart of Everything; The Correspondence between Vladimir Mayakovsky & Lili Brik, 1915-1930,"