#another love letter

[messyo5]

Guys I got a boyfriend (crazy novelty! I can have nice things!!) And recently we accidentally made out to the riff of 27 in the car and I think it's an omen that either we are gonna get married or this will be the craziest heartbreak of my life!

[bodacious-ringading]

i love you /p

-🌹

" Awww, love you too. :3 " /p

[beanghostprincess]

These glasses made me cry.

Usually, whenever fanatism and admiration become too much to the point of wanting to turn yourself into your idol, you end up forgetting yourself. She begins the short by dressing exactly like Nami (no glasses despite needing them and sandals to walk Nami's steps) and complaining about how she could pretend to be a better Nami than the fake one.

She thanks Nami for inspiring her to be adventurous and live an intrepid life, to the point where it seems she wants to be her in order to do so.

And yet, at the end of the day, it's herself (with her glasses, barefoot and far from the perfect ideal she has of Nami) the one who saves the day and gets to live her own adventure.

[meloncolliesblog]

can’t name this feeling,

but it’s like i am a muscle being trained, my whole life, used to think it was excruciating, but what can i do, i don’t hold the cards. lately i have been taking care of myself, eating, showering, i even drink tea and cycle to ‘work’. yet. my skin is ravaged by a fucking fungus and pus is leaking out my face, a disgusting sight, truly, all to come out the other side, purified. i would like to be beautiful again. and, this feeling, this primordial ocean within my veins, this melancholy, this pure ability to remain in solitude even in the most crowded places, this fucking thing that sees no separation from Me, beginning to end, i would like to name this feeling and lay it down, to rest.

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[seeker-ophelia]

This is a love letter to all the tumblr artists who got us through 10 years

10 Years of Hurt and Angst and Pining and Loss

Sincerely, you artists are da real MVPs

Everyones tagged below the cut

fenharel shame - @rainhol

rook & solas - @fideox

chibi Cole - @sincaotic

adoribull - @orientalld

lounging solas - @an-established-butt-dent

leliana & nug - @doodlownick

kieran & OGB - @thejaguar9art

morrigan - @girl-gwoe

fenris - @fridgemeats

isabela - @milton-chamberlain

varrics phone - @haverdoodles

stressed out varric - @dailydadoodles

rook face - @larkoneironaut

tiny solas - @nikyu0

Target solas (&spiderverse solas/rook) - @pinacoladamatata

spite - @loustica-lucia

manfred - @themaybug

assan (&Alistair w/ cheese) - @olessan

varric - @milton-chamberlain

DJ solas - @chromunist

merrill - @thedragonhermit

puss-in-boots (aka lucanis) - @gormlessboy

anders - @pinkfadespirit

tired soals - @greypetrel

cass/lily/josie - @briccko

Sincerely, thank you guys so much.

7 Sleeps. 168 hours left.

[starwarjotta]

Day 5 - caf since my scribbles can be totally illegible, here’s a transcript Obi-Wan: Here you go, Cody Cody: Oh, thanks, sir Cody: this... it’s caf? Obi-Wan: Ah, yes! I’ve noticed my teas are not really to your tastes, so I stocked up some caf for you instead! I hope it’s okay Cody: ... oh Cody: ...thank you.

[lobslobslobs]

* alright gang . new (as in it existed before bur it just wasnt named apparently) ship cuz i've been rotating these 4 in my mind since last night ... i present to you - shark-infested waters (artificer x rivulet x spearmaster x hunter) (named by my partner @voldkat !!!!)

* name explanation Lol . two shark one infested one waters

[eddith]

After watching the fan letter i kept thinking how one piece is a masterclass of showing how a story doesn't need to be driven by romantic love to explore the beautiful romanticism of relationships in a real and heartfelt way.

Fiction is so oversaturated with romance that relationships between characters are most often than not so superficial and goddamn repetitive, I swear if it were another author writing marineford I would 100% expect the the plot to revolve around the main character saving their romantic interest.

I feel like writters dont really give platonic bonds this type of love and attention, and I do believe a part of it revolves around a societal context to what we as a society considers beautiful, romantic and worthwhile telling a story about.

And also the epidemic of loliness, the lack of connection and the isolation are all factors to why we see romantic love stories being pushed this much, this attachment of the idea of romance that most people seems to have.

And this is why i dont like the narrative of “separating the artist from their art” because I think this it is such a poor way of analyzing art. You can’t create a story like one piece, who explores platonic bonds and prioritizes them again and again and intentionally puts them at the forefront of your story if you, the writer, don't view those bonds as something special and worthwhile writting about.

Because after being caught up with one piece I kept asking myself why did this story had such an impact on me? The backstories, the bonds, they all shock me to my core.

Me being a older sister who wasn't ever that close to my little sister and who always felt this disparaging loliness since i was a child, watching mariford hurted me in a way that no story ever could, I can't imagine the impact one piece would have on me if i watched this when i was younger.

And I believe it's all because of Oda's view on relationships, how he seems to have a deeper understanding of people and how they work.

One piece transforms the “ordinary” bonds that most of us have in our lifes into something so extraordinary.

This why I not only respect Oda as a writer, but also as a person.

A person who could so beautifully show us the true beauty of life, that is, the people around us who love and support us.

[nenoname]

Details in Stan's letter that still haunt me

(how long will I continue thinking about a two page letter that's technically not even that long because Stan's handwriting is fricking large? .....you don't need to worry about that.)

The bro code only shows up in the Lost Journal pages, and to me Stan's message feels like it purposely echoes Ford's "miss you" in the college photo (and for some reason the message doesn't appear in the website version of the photo?) ....or alternatively Stan simply noticed how distressed Ford was about this entire thing and wanted to support him in a way so he can be sappy but without the kids knowing, or both!

Stan's claim about the Oregon lottery contradicts what the Lost Legends website said about Tate McGucket's ability to predict the winning numbers!! ...but also breaking into the Lottery HQ is definitely a very Stan thing to do and it's not the first time small gags have been retconned

Despite spending most of his letter nonchalantly destroying him, the taunt about ripping a dollar bill in half is the only part where Stan is directly responding to Bill. Maybe it's the two of them having similar ways of thinking but it's rather specific considering Bill taunts the reader about it...

And after Bill spends an entire book calling Ford Sixer despite normally using a pretty wide range of nicknames for him, Stan then spends his letter mainly referring to Ford as Sixer, even though post-Weirdmageddon he tends to use a mix of nicknames. And it's not like he'd gotten to see Bill himself for long, let alone see him steal that childhood nickname (that is only used twice in the actual show btw!). Did Ford tell him what happened or...?

With all this and the website's "still on your mind" message, what I'm getting at is my tinfoil hat theory of Stan somehow seeing some of the pages the irl readers saw, even when it should be personalised to the specific reader, and he's been lying about it for some reason. Considering that the book flat out doesn't make an attempt at convincing Soos, I find it a stretch that whatever Bill was telling Stan via the book was an attempt to convince him either.

Wouldn't be the first time Stan's skimmed through a book and lied about what it meant to him.

(...Now I kinda wanna see a story about the family reading their versions of the book and making fun of it while Stan is improvising every single one of his pages and blatantly ignoring Bill's attempts to mock and taunt him)

But also I'm fascinated by the letters that only showed up on the website (aka the Soos+Wendy+McGucket+Pacifica ones). I'm assuming that Mabel had stuck them on after Stan's letter... but they were basically eaten by the book itself because seeing Stan's letter kick-started Bill's breakdown which takes up the rest of the book

[messyo5]

Bring back real love 🤘🤠

[tamaruaart]

🎶 ~ And what about Pierre? Dear, bewildered and awkward Pierre? What about Pierre? Rich, unhappily married Pierre? ~ 🎶

[pettyprocrastination]

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.

[likebreadandwine]

don't mind me, I'm just daydreaming about summer picnics and ice cream... 🏖️🍦

but really—there's a rhythm to summer days, and I want to plan your meals around it.

sunrise looks like cotton candy: pink skies and wisps of cloud. I convince you to join me for a walk while there's still dew on the grass, and yes, I'm hoping you work up an appetite. I'll reward you with breakfast when we get back: toast and eggs and bacon and fresh fruit, muffins that are practically cake, strawberries and whipped cream.

we're off to the beach next. I pack us a picnic. we claim a spot in the shade. after sunscreen has been applied (forgive my extra squeezes, you're just getting so soft), we are content to lounge and bask in the warmth of the day.

my carefully-packed cooler gets emptier and emptier as things steadily disappear: thick sandwiches and juicy slices of watermelon, cans of cool soda, bags of chips, decadent homemade brownies. by the time I glance up from my book, you're looking beached and more than a little rosy. time to get you in the water. they say not to swim after eating but that's just a myth, and besides, you aren't so much swimming as floating. hot and overstuffed on land, you are cool and buoyant in the water.

alas, all things must end. back out we come. you're heavy, sleepy, and warm, so we pack up and head home for an afternoon nap while the hottest part of the day passes. well, you nap. I'm needed elsewhere; I have plans for dinner.

it's grilling season, after all, so you know what that means: skewers of beef, bell peppers and zucchini; grilled corn, smokey and sweet; barbecue ribs, roasted potatoes, and garlic bread…is it too much? but what better way to spend a lazy, hazy summer evening than with dinner straight from the barbecue and a drink in hand?

there is one thing that could make it better, if you want. before I even tell you what it is, you're nodding at me. yes, please. aren't you full? so full. I want more.

and so, from the depths of the freezer, I retrieve a carton of vanilla bean ice cream. this is the good stuff, the artisan shit that reminds you vanilla is not plain, vanilla has depth; it is floral, earthy, rich, almost like caramel. combined with sugar and cream, chilled and churned and frozen, I might as well be spooning bites of ambrosia into your mouth. you'd think I was, based on the indecent sounds you're making.

in fairness, it's not just the ice cream. it's the ice cream on top of a whole day of eating. once you've finished the carton and my hands are free, they both go straight to your belly, and wow. you are round and stuffed to your limit. no wonder you're squirming, it must ache. you let me get too carried away. I like when you get carried away. the words come out breathy and soft. you did so good.

I like you like this: breathless and big, dazed and contented, the taste of vanilla still on your lips.

[nosnexus]

Naddpod continues to kill me emotionally.

[kg-clark-inthedark]

My gift for @puddtoast for @dishonoredgiftexchange’s 2024 fugue feast. I went with the prompt of Aramis Stilton thinking about lost love in the wake of Luca’s downfall while listening to his last audiograph from Theodanis Abele, and then realizing he’ll be okay when a monarch butterfly lands on the audiograph player.

I’ve been head over heels for this emotional sucker punch of a prompt, so I hope I did it justice!! Also I’m delighted to have finally drawn Stilton for the first time. Thank you for providing such fun and detailed prompts to choose from! (Btw I didn’t know what symbolism you were hoping for - if any - when requesting a monarch, so I ran with what I grew up with, in terms of the whole “carrying souls of the dead” thing. Hope that works for you!)