i will write a letter soon

The best notes written in manuscripts by medieval monks

Colophon: a statement at the end of a book containing the scribe or owner’s name, date of completion, or bitching about how hard it is to write a book in the dark ages

  • Oh, my hand
  • The parchment is very hairy
  • Thank God it will soon be dark
  • St. Patrick of Armagh, deliver me from writing
  • Now I’ve written the whole thing; for Christ’s sake give me a drink
  • Oh d fuckin abbot
  • Massive hangover
  • Whoever translated these Gospels did a very poor job
  • Cursed be the pesty cat that urinated over this book during the night
  • If someone else would like such a handsome book, come and look me up in Paris, across from the Notre Dame cathedral
  • I shall remember, O Christ, that I am writing of Thee, because I am wrecked today
  • Do not reproach me concerning the letters, the ink is bad and the parchment scanty and the day is dark
  • 11 golden letters, 8 shilling each; 700 letters with double shafts, 7 shilling for each hundred; and 35 quires of text, each 16 leaves, at 3 shilling each. For such an amount I won’t write again
  • Here ends the second part of the title work of Brother Thomas Aquinas of the Dominican Order; very long, very verbose; and very tedious for the scribe; thank God, thank God, and again thank God
  • If anyone take away this book, let him die the death, let him be fried in a pan; let the falling sickness and fever seize him; let him be broken on the wheel, and hanged. Amen

College applications can be seriously stressful and overwhelming. After going through the process a few months ago and getting into both schools I applied to, I thought I’d share a few tips and a general timeline to shoot for! 

as soon as possible

  • Begin making a list of colleges you’re interested in and researching them.
  • Start thinking about what extracurriculars you want to list; drop the ones you don’t care about to give you more time for the ones you enjoy most. 
  • Think about the teachers that know you the best and ask if they would be willing to write a letter of recommendation. 

six months before applications are due

  • Narrow down your list to your top choices only.
    • There’s no point in wasting money applying to colleges you don’t want to go to!
  • Look at the Common App essay prompts and start brainstorming topics.

as soon as applications open

  • Fill out the easy parts of the application – your name, address, etc.
  • Make a list of any fields that you will need help filling out (like if you’re not sure what your advisor’s phone number is).
  • Start rough drafts of your essays, even if you aren’t sure of the topics.

three months before applications are due

  • Nail down essay topics and begin serious revisions.
  • Ask people if they would be willing to proofread your essays.
  • Visit campuses if possible, or speak to an admissions counselor to better tailor your applications to each school.

one month before the due date

  • Send essays to the people that have agreed to go over them.
  • Finish up the questions portion of the application.
  • Enter in actives and have someone proof them.
  • Begin final edits of essays.
  • Contact the teachers that are writing your letters and add them as recommenders on Common App (if that’s what you’re applying through). 

one week before the due date

  • Finalize your essays.
  • Have a parent review your application make sure all the information is accurate. 
  • Make sure all test scores, transcripts, and any other supplemental materials are in order and will be sent on time.
  • Submit your applications as soon as possible so you’re not stressing about getting it in on time!

a few things to keep in mind

  • There’s no right number of schools to apply to.
    • I applied to two, my sister applied to one, and I have friends that applied to ten. Do your research and narrow it down as much as possible to save time and money, but above all make sure that you’re happy with the schools you choose. 
  • Schools want to see applicants that are unique and passionate about something. It’s not so much about finding a student that’s done a million different things and is a member of every club, but finding one that shows dedication and individuality through their application.
  • They can tell the difference between an essay written by a high school senior or college transfer and an adult pretending to be one – don’t ever ever ever hire someone out to write yours for you. 
  • Be creative with extracurriculars if you think you don’t have enough! Everything from babysitting your siblings to coding themes counts.
  • Seriously never underestimate the importance of having other people proofread. You’ve been looking at your essays for so long that you would never catch that one bit of an old sentence sandwiched in between a new one, but someone else will. 
  • Don’t sweat it! You’ve totally got this.
Through the Years (Part 3)

Summary: Through mysterious circumstances, you find yourself exchanging letters with a man who lived 70 years in the past.

Word Count: 1,803

Part 1 Part 2

Originally posted by yesbucky


2011

It was impossible, you knew that it was. There was absolutely no way that this letter really was from the date written on it. Yet again, it was yellowed and seemed to be crumbling. After all, it had supposedly existed for seventy years. Swallowing thickly, you began to read.


Dear Y/N,

My name is James Barnes. I am the new tenant in the apartment and would like to ask how you know about the fire that happened in the bedroom. It just happened a week ago and I was already living here. How did you know it was going to happen, that it was going to leave a large burn mark on the wall?

I’m not accusing you of anything, please don’t think I am. I am just curious.

Sincerely,

James.

Keep reading

My love,
This isn’t a love letter.
I’m writing this because I can’t love you anymore. And it’s not because I’m selfish and it’s not because I’m broken. It’s not because I don’t want to, because God knows I’d love you forever if you’d let me. We reached the end as soon as you started seeing her as more than just another person. As soon as you took glances at her that were more than just a look. I saw it coming before you even knew it. I watched you begin to love parts of her while you still called me baby. I felt the words “I love you” lose their meaning as they slipped through your mouth as if it were just another sentence. I heard the sound of your voice lose its happiness when you said my name. It starts slow, someone falling out of love with you, and then you wake up one day and it’s all gone. And you don’t know how it happened or where it all went, you just know that the person you love doesn’t love you anymore, and there’s nothing left. You sit there and let it all crumble, right there, right in front of you. And there is nothing you can do to stop it. Because you can’t make someone stay. And you definitely can’t make someone love you. It’s been over a month since you left and I’m still holding onto bits and pieces of us. Whenever I think I’m over you and I’m okay without you, it all comes back and memories of us and images of you and anagrams of your name start flooding my head. And then I’m back to where I started. But this isn’t about the end. This is about my love for you. I still love you. You know that. Anyone could see it. But you love me and then you don’t. It’s there and then it isn’t. Some nights you give me false hope and I truly believe there will be another us again. And then there’s days like today where you shove another girl’s name down my throat and then abandon me completely. And I’ll have to wait and wonder when the next time you’ll decide to love me or just talk to me again will be. I can’t keep letting myself wait for someone that’s never coming back. You’re impulsive. You left impulsively. And you almost came back impulsively. And if you did, I don’t know what I’d do. Because I want you. I want you in every way possible. But as soon as someone more beautiful comes along, someone who says your name in a softer voice, someone who has more curves, a brighter smile, a sexier gaze, you’ll be gone again. Out of impulse. You won’t ever choose to love me every day. You won’t choose to love me even when you don’t want to. You will never choose me. I know that now. I know that you’re my world and I’m just another girl living in yours. I know you won’t be sad without me. I know you don’t let stupid things like love get to you. I hope you know that I’m going to miss you for the rest of my life. My heart is going to ache until the very end. But despite it all, I love you forever. The hardest part is walking away from the only person you wanted to stay. The worst part is knowing that they don’t care that you did. The saddest part is knowing that they’ll never stop you, even though you’d run forever to stop them.
My love, this isn’t a love letter.
This is an, I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted, but I’ll always have dreams in which I could’ve been, letter.
This isn’t a love letter because love letters don’t end in tears.

My darling,

I hope you know how careful I have been not to fall in love with someone who is not exactly you. I’ve spent every cold, lonely night trying to stay warm without you, but it simply does not work.

It’s not that the heater has broken or that the covers aren’t thick enough… It’s that my skin is not touching your skin and my hand is not laced in your hand.

And I could fill my bed with strangers, but still I would be freezing because they could not care for the fragile flames of my soul like you could.

So please, come soon my love.

Come soon for I am freezing.

—   Z.M.Letter #18 to you, wherever you are.
#DateMeBuckyBarnes (Part 15)

Summary: When Hollywood’s heartthrob Bucky Barnes breaks up with his girlfriend, you jokingly tag him in a selfie on Instagram to express your desire to date him. What you don’t expect is a response from the man himself [Modern AU].

Word Count: 1,149

‘#DateMeBuckyBarnes’ Masterlist

A/N: Shoutout to @lovellylittlelonely for reading this over and sending words of encouragement :) I really need to try to cut down the length of these chapters, my gosh. 

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

You entered the apartment building a little after seven in the evening. Due to Daisy’s insistence, you had dinner with her and Jemma after work to discuss the upcoming projects at the company. Discussion about your ‘blossoming’ relationship with Bucky came up as well which didn’t surprise you. In almost every conversation you had with your friends, he always came up. 

Over two months have passed since Bucky’s impromptu road trip to the seaside occurred, and your relationship with him changed after that moment. Bucky became a big part of your life and everyone noticed. Aside from your friends, the celebrity news and social media sites kept talking about what went on between you and Bucky. Unsurprisingly, the attention didn’t faze him at all, but he hated the fact that everyone pried into your life.

Keep reading

Pen Pals

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The Reader takes up a Pen Pals writing program at her school, and soon finds herself falling for the military man who’s been sending her letters. What happens when she graduates? Will the letters still come after, or is she just a random person who was strung along just to blow off some steam via words? 

Word Count: 1.7kish

Warnings: AU, Fluff, Light Cursing

Author’s Note: Heyy my loves! This is my entry for @revwinchester‘s Birthday Challenge. I got the prompt “Soldier” with Dean (obviously). This was meant to be a one shot, but then I thought, why not make the other half in Dean’s POV? It’s only fair, right? Second part will come next weekend. And the third the following weekend. I really hope you guys like this! Feedback is definitely welcomed!!

*Part Two*



Chapter One: First Letters

Pen Pal - a person with whom one becomes friendly by exchanging letters, especially someone in a foreign country whom one has never met.


I never thought I’d be the one to do these kinds of things. When I signed up for it at the beginning of freshman year in high school, people thought I was insane. They didn’t think I was going to go through with it, you see.

Keep reading

A Letter from You

AN: @whitechocolateperfection Thanks Emily for requesting and advising as always :) and @teen-mendes you know why 


Originally posted by anthony-samaniego

It’s laying under the flower pot at your front doorstep. There’s a small rock set on the opposite corner, like the pot isn’t heavy enough to keep it down.

Leaning over, you take it from its hiding space, realizing it’s a letter. Your name is written across the white in black ink. The handwriting is familiar. Something you’ve seen in journals and lyrics written quickly on newspaper or paper towels when his phone was too far away. You found parchment in your purse from the small train you took in Amsterdam. The song turned into roses. Who knew one lyrical line would’ve turned into your favorite song.

When the door is unlocked and your bag and keys are on the hook, you take a seat by the window. Your cat is curled up at your feet, stirring in her sleep.

The envelope is sealed, but you don’t go to open it as quickly as you should. The lip feels heavy, straining your shoulders. The breakup is still fresh, too fresh to read his letter. Maybe he wants to get back together.. maybe he’s about to show up with a bouquet of tulips and a single white rose- the only way you’ll accept flowers. Maybe it’s actually from Aaliyah, or an old friend from college. It was your birthday just last month. It could be a forgotten gift and the writer was too embarrassed to give it to you, face to face.

“What am I waiting for?” You ask yourself, knowing the longer you wait the worse the pain in your chest will feel. The words he spoke will never leave. They’re tattooed in your mind..anyone else would’ve found it beautiful, poetic. For you? It was tragic.

‘Y/N,

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

jughead is in prison and meets betty through a penpal programme

“Jones. Mail time.”

Jughead jones looked up from his bunk, peering over his worn out edition of “Howl”. He never got mail, not anymore. People had stopped trying, friends had given up, family never cared. Nobody loves a criminal.

Rykers island was one of the worst federal state penitentiaries in all of New York and Jughead Jones was one of their most frequent inmates. The dark haired 25 year old had been in and out of prison since they day he turned eighteen, being a part of the Notorious Southside gang “The Serpents” jail was something written in the stars, he was currently finishing up a three year stint for drug distribution. Unlike his gang mates, he wasn’t proud. He didn’t want this life, didn’t even choose it, he was born into it, molded by his father from the time he was five years old.

That brought him back to the current situation, no one would write him letters, he’d told his sister he didn’t want her having any part of the jail system and his gang members were either alongside him in jail or merely didn’t care. His mother had left him when he was younger and his father had a gang to run.

“You sure it’s for me John?” Jughead entered the mail room, his hands shoved in his pockets as the older guard handed him a tiny white envelope with a floral stamp in the right hand corner, the hand writing distinctly feminine.

“Sure is Jughead, never smelt a letter so pretty, you got someone sweet on you at home?” The seventy Year old southern man grinned as Jughead blushed and shoved the letter into his grey body suit.

“Nah. Probably spam.” He threw a lazy wave and practically sprinted back to his bunk, dropping back onto the bed and removing the letter from his pocket.

“Smells good, don’t know what that old mans talking about.” Jughead mumbled, pausing a moment before looking around quickly and shoving the envelope under his nose. Well damn, it did smell good.

Peaches and vanilla, kind of like the smoothies they had at the gas stations back home. He scanned over the handwriting, his eyes landing in the name written in the corner.

Betty Cooper
134 Elm Street
Riverdale OH

Who the hell was Betty Cooper and why was she writing him a letter? He sighed deeply, nothing good could come from a letter, more bad news, maybe his father had kicked the bucket finally and this was one of his many women letting Jughead know.

Jughead tore the letter open, slicing through it like a pro.


“Dear Jughead Jones,
Hello! My name is Betty Cooper and I’m from Riverdale Ohio. I know that this is very strange, to be receiving a letter from an absolute stranger! I should start off by saying I recieved your name from a pen pal program my school is doing for the fall semester. I should also start off by saying I am 24 years old and not a student, I teach first grade. Now, I have to admit I was very hesitant to allow my students to do this penpal program, I mean first graders writing to felons? It’s a bit odd don’t you think? Never the less my boss insisted so here we are! I do not know anything about you, much as you do not know anything about me! I hope to change that though, I do hope you answer me. I should tell you a bit about myself. I grew up in Riverdale and went to community college where I got my teaching certification, I love my job but it is only part time. I also own a bakery in town, most of my efforts go to perfecting my cakes and cookies! Perhaps I can send you some? If you like sweets that is. Oh I really hope you do. I do not have any animals but I’m in the market to get a dog! I just bought my very first house! (Very exciting) well that’s all I can think of for this letter, please write back about yourself! I hope to hear from you very soon Jughead Jones. Stay safe and be loved
- Betty Cooper”

Jughead traced the words on the paper, his fingers looping over her swirly cursive, she was eccentric and quirky and he could almost feel the sunshine she put out into the world. He found himself wanting to know more about her, it was an odd feeling… to care for someone. He wouldn’t write back, he couldn’t write back. What would he say? Hi, this is Jughead, I rob banks and sell drugs. Dropping the letter over his face Jughead sighed.

Pathetic. He was pathetic.

He placed the letter on his bedside table.
He would keep it but he wouldn’t write back.

Two hours later Jughead was covered in crumpled paper as he held up a page long letter and shoved it into an envelope.

What’s the worst thing that could happen?
*****

Hey I kinda really like this. Possible multichapter?

Stole My Heart

Summary: The five times the universe appeared to be against you when you wanted to ask Peter out.

Word Count: 2,622.

A/N: After reading @bovaria‘s fic, “The Five Times Bucky Picks You“, it inspired me to write something along those lines with Peter instead. Although, I decided to do my own spinoff and give it a slight twist. Hope you enjoy :D

Originally posted by spiderholland

Keep reading

so anyway mikael is nonbinary

  • and the balloon squad has known for a bit now. 
  • mikael was terrified when they first asked the squad to use they/them pronouns. they had a whole powerpoint ready on gender and social constructs and the grammatical validity of they/them used in the singular.
  • but in the end they didn’t need it. as soon as they said “nonbinary” the squad, after staring at them for three interminable seconds, broke into loud chatter
  • “no no bro it’s like how you feel inside or some shit” “yeah like Jorunn at school!” “what ‘bout Jorunn?” “sh-they like asked the teachers to call h-them they and shit” “oh yeah i remember!” “that was badass, man!” “yeah i heard they just straight up walked to every teacher they had in bakka and even the principal!” “no i heard they just asked their dad to write a letter or some shit” “yeah well…” “yeah can you imagine doing that, man?” “naaaah! i can’t even look at the teachers in the face i’m so fucking stressed all the time”
  • and that was kind of it? the conversation quickly sidetracked to the euro 2016 and what were norway’s chances to make it to the finals and mikael joined in without even realising
  • the weight in their stomach lifted and they could breathe again and that was the end of it.
  • one day, a few months after their coming out, mikael walks in the bakkoushs’ flat with their nails painted a deep shade of russet
  • they figured that a lot of rock’n’roll-type guys wear black nail polish and no one cares
  • and they like warm shades of brown. plus they kind of look black. from a distance.
  • the minute they walk in though, elias grabs their hand and sticks it so close to his face that mikael can feel their friend’s breath against their fingers
  • mikael feels the familiar twinge of anxiety in their guts and prays for a swift and merciful death
  • but elias releases mikael’s hand and asks “can you do mine?”
  • two hours later, sana bursts into elias’ room because she could smell a sickeningly potent chemical scent and she thought the squad had finally managed to create mustard gas by mistake and kill themselves
  • she stares at the mess of cotton swabs drenched in acetone, the floor stained in a rainbow of nail polishes, the entire balloon squad bent over each other’s hands, sitting on the floor, tongues sticking out with the effort, looking like three years old asked to try and colour inside the lines for once
  • “are those my nail polishes, elias?”
  • “faaaaaaaaaaaaaaeeeennn” the squad cowers, nudging elias towards his sister, and mikael pales. they feel responsible.
  • sana pinches the space between her eyebrows and takes a deep breath in
  • “hand me the goods, elias” she says, waving the squad out of her way.
  • when she sits on her brother’s bed, it turns into a makeshift throne and the squad approaches her and offers her their hands for inspection
  • except for mikael who starts trying to clean the floor of the mess the squad made without damaging their painted fingernails
  • and they can’t contain the smile that pulls on their cheeks so hard it hurts
  • but in a good way.
3

Tom : Here, this is for you. *slides the letter*

-

To. @drunkengaytom

Hey there, bud! Thank you so much for ordering our treats! I heard you were feeling down lately, so ㅡ you know what? These are on the house. I know this is not a proper way to run buisness but… I’m just really glad people even show up to our bakery! Heh, I hope you’ll be feeling better soon!

From. Eddsweets ((Ed, Tim and Matt!))

((It’s Edd and Tom, Matt.))
((Why did we decide to make Matt write the letter again?))
((Well… Matt does have a neat handwriting.))

Ringo cupcakes designed with : @unlikelykingdomsuit

Sharpie Promises

Originally posted by escaped-ocelot

Raphael x Reader

Sharpie Promises

Note: I don’t know if I’ll publish this or not, but basically, I’m a ho for TMNT and soulmate AUs and I’ve never seen a TMNT Soulmate AU, so here you go. It’s the 2k14/2k16 turtles btw. Idk. I might do more of these if you guys like it.

Raphael wasn’t human. He had struggled with this, but had eventually come to terms with the fact. He didn’t have a soulmate and he wouldn’t ever find love. Not in a world full of humans. He tried to be all right with it. Keyword: tried.

It wasn’t until he was working out one day that he felt something cold and wet travelling across his left forearm. Just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. He removed his three-fingered hands from the weight he had been lifting and sat up to examine it.

Hi.

Messy black letters written in Sharpie. His green eyes narrowed. What was this? He had never felt or seen anything like this. But there it was, plain as day on his arm. He stared at it, afraid that the words would disappear, but no. They stayed right where they were. And then soon after, more appeared from nowhere, as though a ghost was writing on his arm with an invisible marker.

So, it’s like three in the morning here and I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but um, hi.

A long pause. Raph stared in amazement, too shocked to say anything.

You’re probably asleep, aren’t you? Dammit. Well, um…bye, I guess.

He had never run so fast in his life.

“Woah, woah, watch it!” Donnie raised his arms as Raph pushed his chair away from his station and grabbed a Sharpie, pulling off the cap between his teeth and scrawling in the empty space on his arm.

Wait.

***

Your heart raced as a response finally appeared.

Wait.

Big, messy letters that you could tell had been written in a rush.

I’m here. Who are you? What’s happening?

You stared at the letters, the handwriting. Your stomach dropped, the nerves kicking in. This was it. This was your soulmate. You had no idea how this worked. No one did, but it worked, and that was all that mattered. A magical pen-pal from far away, probably. Why anyone would be up at this ungodly hour besides you was beyond you. But now you had to reply. You turned over your arm to write back.

I’m (Y/N). Your soulmate, I think. I don’t know…this is what everyone else does, but I’ve always been too shy to try.

***

Soulmate.

Raph’s heart skipped a beat when the word was written on his arm. Soulmate. He had a soulmate. He actually had…Oh my God.

“Raph, are you crying?” Mikey asked, looking up at his older brother, whose eyes certainly looked a little misty.

“N-no. I just got dirt in my eye. Go away.” He sniffled and smiled.

“Whatcha doin’?” the youngest turtle looked over Raph’s shoulder and scanned a few words before he raised his arm far above Mikey’s head, but he had already seen it. Soulmate. “You…you have a soulmate?”

“I guess so.” Raph shrugged. By now, Donnie and Leo were paying attention to what was happening.

“You have a what?” Donnie’s head snapped around. He pulled down Raph’s arm to examine it. But there it was, plain as day. What the internet described as a ‘soulmate exchange’. “I didn’t think it was scientifically possible for you…for us to have…”

“Are you serious?” Leo came over to look.

“What do I look like? A freakin’ museum?” Raph snapped. “Now go away. I gotta write ‘er back.” The others gave him some space as he walked over to the couch and sat down, the tip of the Sharpie hovering over his green arm.

Soulmate, huh? Did think I had one of those. Name’s Raphael. Nice to meet ya.

***

What are you, a renaissance artist? Lol JK

Something like that.

So where are you from, Mr. Renaissance Artist?

New York, New York.

Seattle, Washington. Well, this might be a little complicated, huh?

Something like that…

***

You wrote to Raphael until the sun came up and then you crashed. You had thought it was a dream until you saw the words written there the next morning. You had a soulmate. His name was Raphael. He was from New York.

But at least he existed. It could be a lot worse.

It wasn’t until about noon, three o’clock there, that you wrote to him again, after having wiped your arm off to give you more room to write.

Good morning.

You wake up at noon?

Only when I’m up until sunrise talking to my soulmate.

Fair enough.

So how’s your day been?

Overwhelming.

Fair enough.

***

Leo, Donnie, and Mikey were all bunched behind Raphael to watch.

“Go away!”

“Dude, we just wanna watch.” Mikey whined.

“Go! Away!”

“All right, sheesh,” Donnie walked back to his lab, and Leo and Mikey reluctantly walked away.

So…

He wrote.

What’cha wanna talk about?

I don’t know.

What’s it like in Seattle?

Rainy. What’s it like in New York?

Noisy. He replied, a smirk spreading across his scarred lips. How old are you?

Seventeen.

Same.

Nice. How tall are you?

Like 6’5”-ish.

Holy shit! You’re gonna have to bend down to kiss me.

Kiss you. He was going to kiss you. Eventually. A new concept. Butterflies spread through his stomach, but he tried to play it off.

You a shorty?

Compared to you, yeah. Always had a thing, for tall guys, though. No worries. ;)

He smiled.

Got any hobbies? You asked.

Ninjitsu, bein’ a giant mutant turtle, etc…

Uh, I knit sometimes. And I work out. A lot.

Mr. Muscles the Knitting Renaissance Artist. You keep getting better and better.

So what do you do for fun, Shorty in Seattle?

Oh you know, read, write, spend ungodly amounts of time on the internet.

Sounds fun.

It is. So, anyways, I’ve been looking into New York travel recently (and by recently I mean right now immediately) for reasons, you know. Anyway, what area of New York should I travel to in…ten months when I go to college (that I’ve just applied to) there?

***

After a long day of talking to you and patrolling and trying to work out, Raph was exhausted. He laid in his top bunk, reading your ramble with a smile.

After replying, he knew it was time to go to sleep.

I’m wiped. I gotta sleep.

Oh, okay. Goodnight Raph.

Night, (nickname).

I love you.

His heart skipped a beat.

I love you too.

I can’t wait to meet you.

Already countin’ down the days, babe.

Me too.

***

Weeks later, you got an idea.

So, theoretically, if I were to Skype you, would you pick up?

I don’t have a Skype.

I want to hear your voice.

I can call you, if you want. I just don’t do video chats?

Why?

Because I’m a giant freaking mutant turtle and I don’t want my soulmate to hate and/or be afraid of me.

I want to see you for the first time in person.

All right then. Here’s my number.

You waited in bated breath for your phone to ring, and then suddenly it did. Your thumb hovered above the accept button. You felt like your whole body was trembling.

“Hey there.” You could hear the shaking in your voice. He chuckled, and already you loved the sound of his laugh.

“Hey yourself,”

“Oh my God, I love your voice.” You gushed.

“I love yours too, shorty.”

“Aaaaah! Your accent is so hot!”

“Heh, yeah.” He smiled.

“Ooh, are you talking to (Y/N)?” Mikey asked. “Can I say hi?”

“No, you can’t. Shoo.”

“Who’s that?” You asked.

“My little brother.” Mikey tried to reach up and grab Raph’s phone, but he squirmed away from him. “Mikey, go away!”

“But-!”

“Go away!”

“I wanna say hi to your girlfriend!!”

“Mikey, leave Raph alone.” Leo smirked from across the lair. The youngest brother left, deflated.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Where were we?”

“I was gushing over your very attractive voice, Mr. Muscles.”

“Ah. Right.” He tried not to blush and failed miserably. A slow smirk snuck across his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too!”

***

“Did you get it yet?” Raph called you a few months before you were supposed to arrive. As the day approached, he got more and more anxious. You would be here in New York and he wouldn’t be able to skirt around the truth anymore. He was a giant turtle and you were a human girl. It wasn’t going to work out.

But nonetheless, he had sent you something. Something to remember him by if it didn’t work out, he supposed.

“It came in today! I haven’t opened it yet, though. I’m going to right now. Give me a sec, I’m gonna put you on speaker.”

“All right.” Raph listened as you set down your phone and put him on speaker. Then came the noise of you cutting the tape and opening the small cardboard box and sifting through the tissue paper.

“Oh my gosh! It’s amazing! I love it! You really made this?”

“I did.” He smirked. You held up the perfect little pendant. A polished wooden turtle that Raphael had carved himself. It hung from a simple twine string. You put it on immediately, tying the necklace around your neck. You let your fingers run over all of the intricate little grooves.

“I’m never taking it off, I hope you know that.”

“I’m flattered.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see how it looks on ya.”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

A nervous little laugh.

“Yeah. Pretty soon, now.”

“It couldn’t come soon enough.” You smiled warmly. “It’s late. I’m gonna get some sleep. Exams tomorrow and then I’m out of school for the summer. And then, only two months until I get to see you.”

“Well, you rest up, shorty. Get good grades. I don’t want ya to fail.”

“Good night. I love you.”

“I love ya too. Night.”

When he hung up, he stared at the ceiling. God, what was he gonna do?

***

You were full of jitters when you landed in New York two short months later. The time had crawled by so slow, but you passed the time. And now you were here, the center of the modern world.

“I’m here! I just landed! When do you want to meet up?”

“Um, how about you get settled? Go to your apartment or whatever. I’ll come over tonight.”

“Okay.” Your heart raced. “Okay. I’ll see you then. I’ll uh, get you the address once I find it.”

“Sounds like a plan. Stay safe. I’ll see ya tonight.”

“See you.” When you hung up, Raph started to pace through the lair.

“I’m going to see her tonight. Oh my God. She’s gonna find out I’m a giant turtle and she’s gonna hate me.”

“Statistically, after ten months of-”

“No more science bulllshit, Don! I’m a freak! She’s gonna run screamin’ and I’ll never see her again!”

“It’ll be fine, Raph. You’re over reacting. As usual.” Leo’s tone was cool, annoyed. “She loves you. We’d have to be blind not to see that.”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight, huh?” He slumped onto the couch, a deep dread setting in. Tonight was not going to be pretty. He knew it.

***

After you had unpacked and met your roommate, a very nice woman named April who had been searching for a roommate for some time now, you called Raph and gave him an address. He asked about how things were and so you told him about your roommate. He chuckled. Well, that might make things a little easier. He told you he wasn’t far and he would be over in a few.

“Who’s that?” April asked after you hung up.

“My soulmate. He’s the reason I moved here, actually. He’s coming here if that’s okay.”

“More than fine with me.” She smiled. “What’s his name?”

“Raphael.” You told her. Her face lit up in surprise. Now the turtle necklace she had complimented you on when you walked in made a whole lot of sense. She doubted that you knew why though.

So this was the (Y/N) he had talked about. His soulmate. Shorty from Seattle.

“Nice name.”

“I know, right?” Your phone buzzed. “Oh my God, it’s him.”

“Hey babe, come outside.” You stood there in confusion for a second. “Fire escape.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll be down in a sec.” You nodded, tucking the phone away. Your heart raced as you climbed out the window and down the metal fire escape to the alley below. There, in the shadows stood a very tall, very large silhouette.

“Hey there.” It was him. His voice. In person. “I uh, I need ya to promise me something, gorgeous.”

“What?”

“Just…p-promise you won’t scream.”

“Why would I-?”

“Promise.”

“I promise.” You stated certainly.

“I, uh, I ain’t exactly…normal.”

“I love you, Raph.”

“You won’t when you see me.” His voice was quiet as all of his insecurities came to the surface.

“Raphael,” You reached out for him, hand forward for a long few moments until his three-fingered green one met it, pressing against it like Tarzan and Jane. Something familiar and something foreign. You gasped quietly, but when he moved to pull away, you gripped one of his large fingers. “Please.”

He let out a long sigh, considering bolting then and there, but he gave in and took a few slow, heavy steps out of the dark to where you could see him. Your soulmate was a giant mutant turtle. He waited for the sting of rejection, for the tears of disappointment streaming down your cheeks, but they never came. Instead, you pulled his muscular arms around yourself, clinging to him as though this was your last chance. He held you tight against his plastron, his knees giving out in the wave of relief that washed over him. Raph buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you felt hot tears against your skin.

Thank you.” A broken whisper from his scarred lips. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” You kissed his cheek and then his forehead, and you lifted his face to look at the green face under the tattered red bandana.

“All ‘uh this don’t bug you?” He asked, tear-filled green eyes searching yours. “You don’t care that I’m a freak?”

“You’re not a freak, Raphael.” The feeling of your soft skin against his face drove him up the wall in the best possible way. “Not to me.”

“Are ya just sayin’ that because I’m your soulmate?”

“I mean it.” You locked eyes with him and he felt as though you were staring into his soul. His smile was the most gorgeous thing you had ever seen. Curiosity sparked behind your eyes as you examined every inch of him, taking him in. “What are you?”

There wasn’t hatred or fear in your voice, only awe.

“I’m a mutant. A turtle. Hence the uh-” he motioned to the necklace around your neck. “That.”

“I love turtles,” You whispered as you kissed his snout. You were so close. So close he could just about…

You closed the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He didn’t know how to respond, but followed his instincts and tried his hardest to kiss you back. His large hands held your hips and your small hands framed his jaw before moving to his shoulders, fingers gently searching the terrain of his shell.

When you finally pulled away from him, you looked at him for a long time.

“Hey do you wanna come up for pizza?” April called down from the apartment window.

“Yeah, sure April. Are the guys coming?”

“Just got off the phone with Leo. They’re on their way.”

“Wait, you two know eachother?” You asked. Raph smiled and shrugged, finally getting to his feet and taking you with him. God, he was so tall.

“We go way back.” April smiled. “I named him.”

“What?”

“Long story. Come on, shorty.” He picked you up off of the ground as if you weighed nothing and carried you on his hip, your feet dangling a foot in the air. “’Bout time you met my brothers, huh?”

***

After you had met his brothers and enjoyed some celebratory pizza, the six of you had settled down to watch a movie. At the moment, Raph was spread out on the couch with you laying on top of him and a cozy red blanket draped over both of you. He nuzzled into your neck as your hands traced gentle circles on his plastron.

“I love you, Raphael.” You kissed his jaw. He hummed contentedly.

“I love you too, soulmate.” The word had never sounded so right.

@turtllinis @turtimagines @turtlebaes @anetteshortie @imagineninjaturtles @imaginetmnt @totally-turtle-imagines @immortal-turtles

  • en brevvenn - a penpal
  • et brev - a letter
  • et postkort - a postcard
  • et frimerke - a stamp
  • en pakke - a package/parcel
  • en konvolutt - an envelope
  • et brevpapir - a note/letter paper
  • en adresse - an address
  • et postnummer - a postal code/zip code
  • en sender - a sender
  • en adressat - an addressee
  • et postbud - a postman
  • en postkasse - a letterbox/mailbox
  • et postkontor - a post office
  • et postvesen - a postal service
  • en porto - postage
  • en brevpost - a snail mail
  • en e-post - an e-mail
  • en levering - a delivery
  • en håndskrift - a handwriting
  • en brevveksling - a correspondence
  • å brevvekelse - to correspond (via letter writing)
  • oversjøisk - overseas
  • lang avstand - long distance

Kjære venn… - Dear friend…

Jeg håper dette brevet finner deg/dere vel - I hope this letter finds you well

Det er hyggelig å møte deg/dere gjennom brev! -  It’s nice to meet you through letters!

Jeg gleder meg til å høre fra deg/dere! - I look forward to hearing from you!

Ser frem til å høre fra deg/dere - I look forward to hearing from you!

Håper på (et) raskt svar - Hoping for a fast answer

Håper du/dere kan svare meg så raskt som mulig - Hoping you can answer as fast/soon as possible

Vennligst skriv tilbake - Please write back

Med vennlig hilsen… - Yours sincerely…


Tusen takk to @vet-dere-nok-eller-hva for helping me with the correct translations!

Long Distance with Fred Weasley Would Include...

“hello! I was wondering if you could do a headcannon that involves dating Fred Weasley while being long distance and going to Ilvermorny in America. I love your work! its simply amazing!”

thank you anon, this request made me smile a lot; i’m happy that people like my work. i hope this is okay for you - thank you for the request, it means a lot. <3


  • Your family moving away to escape the upcoming wizarding war as you were muggleborn 
  • Obviously you told your parents the danger that you were all in
  • Your heart-breaking when realising you had to leave everything behind
  • Crying when asking Dumbledore to transfer your files to Ilvermorny for when you left
  • Crying in the Gryffindor Common Room
  • Fred walking in and seeing you crying
  • Him rushing to  your side immediately and worrying over you
  • What’s wrong, he asks
  • Has something happened?
  • Telling him you two need to talk - explaining about Ilvermorny and crying because of how heartbroken you are
  • “Well, have fun my love. I’ll miss you loads, but don’t miss me. Go live your life in America!”
  • Him thinking you’d break up 
  • Fred being upset but not letting you see that
  • Telling him you don’t want to go
  • And that you don’t want to break up because you love him
  • Fred’s heart slows down slightly from the fast pace it was at
  • Finding ways to stay in contact in front of the fire
  • Deciding on owl post
  • Buying an owl


  • Fred going to see you with Arthur before you leave the airport
  • Super long, tight hugs 
  • “I love you”
  • “I love you too, Freddie”
  • Fred writing you a letter about how much he misses you as soon as he gets home
  • Him not being sad because he knows he’ll see you again when everything’s better
  • Knowing it’s for your safety, yet missing you so much


  • After seven months in America
  • You settling in well at Ilvermorny
  • Fred’s letters still arriving every week, him mentioning how much everyone misses you
  • Especially himself
  • Leaving sweet messages at the end of your letters to each other
  • Using muggle telephones to hear each other’s voices every now and then
  • Fred saving up to visit you in America
  • Fred using floo network to travel to America when he realises he has magic parents
  • You finding the gesture sweet 
  • Hot dog dates in America
  • Getting Fred to try muggle candies
  • Taking him to the theater
  • Showing him Ilvermorny and getting him to meet your new friends
  • Them fawning over his accent, you telling them to sod off
  • “He’s my boyfriend, not yours”
  • Fred loving your jealousy a tiny bit


  • Fred having to return for the Battle of Hogwarts
  • Limbs tangled together in your bed
  • Both you and Fred crying
  • Both incredibly scared
  • Your parents not letting you go
  • “Be careful, Fred”
  • “I’m always careful”
  • A long kiss before he left for the UK
  • Worrying about him every day
  • Not hearing much from him anymore
  • Writing endless letters to him, getting no reply from him
  • Endless night, crying and asking anybody who was listening
  • “Why?”
  • Getting letters from his family asking how you were
  • You asking how they were
  • Presuming Fred was dead


  • HOWEVER
  • Would Fred die when the love of his life was sat across the globe waiting for him to return?
  • Of course not
  • He surprised you one night
  • 2am
  • A shuffling and a bang in your living room
  • Grabbing your wand and heading there, prepared to fight the intruder
  • Lumos
  • Familiar ginger hair staring back at you
  • A large smile on his face
  • And you’re so ?? because you were convinced he was dead
  • But he wasn’t
  • He was perfectly alive and standing in front of you
  • Ready to start your new life together
  • Grateful, long hugs and thankful whispers
  • “You’re alive, you’re alive”
  • “Of course I’m alive. I’m Fred Weasley, you really think I’d leave you?”
20 ideas for being kind

1. Be resolved to become a kind person. How do you do this? Think, speak, and act with kindness.

2. Love kindness. When you do what you love, you are happy. A master of kindness is a master of joy.

3. When encountering someone, let your first thoughts be, What kind words can I say to this person and what kind things can I do?

4. Keep asking people, What can I do for you?

5. Everyone needs encouragement. Ask yourself, What can I say that will be encouraging?

6. Wherever you are, you are there for a reason. Ask yourself, Since I am here now, what kindness can I do?

7. Every kind person is unique. You have unique talents, skills, knowledge, and resources. Utilize them to help others in your own unique way. Ask yourself, In what unique ways can I be kind?

8. Do a daily act of kindness without letting anyone know who did it.

9. Learn from every kind act you see or read about. Ask yourself, What can I learn from this to be kinder?

10. A valuable rule is, Even if you do not feel like a kind person, you can still act like one. Think of a kind act you can do that you do not feel like doing.

11. Think of a kindness telephone call that you can make today.

12. Think of a kindness note, letter, or email that you can write today.

13. View your own pain, distress, and suffering as tools for empathy and understanding. Ask yourself, How can this experience help me be a kinder person?

14. Keep asking yourself, If I were this person, what would I want others to do for me?

15. As soon as your recognize a need, volunteer to do something about it. Do not wait until you are asked.

16. Listen to those who need a listening ear. Listening to someone is a great act of kindness.

17. If you know that someone is looking for a job or needs to earn more money, ask yourself, What can I do to make it happen?

18. Be empathetic and compassionate. Be resolved not to cause distress, pain, or loss with your words and action.

19. Learn from everyone. Keep asking people, What kindnesses from others have you appreciated?

20. Pray for the welfare of others.

katherinem1996  asked:

Hi :] I followed you recently, and I'm glad I did. I like your Bucky cuddle drabbles, and I think you're really talented. If it's not too much trouble, could you maybe do a headcannon for dating pre-serum Steve? Thanks 💜

Thank you, love! You’re too sweet <3 I hope you like this. (I don’t think headcanons are supposed to be nearly 2k but oops my hands slipped. Thanks to @sarahwroteathing for being an angel and always helping me with everything.)

Dating pre-serum Steve

Originally posted by freakzter

It started off a little weird. Steve’s been your best friend since you met him. But he was laughing really hard at something you said–so hard he had tears in his eyes. Something bubbled up in you, and you leaned in real close and stole a quick kiss from his plush lips.

He stops immediately. Well, that’s new. He’s looking at you with those deep blue eyes, waiting for an answer…but you don’t have one. It was an impulse. Why had you done that?

Steve licks his bottom lip subconsciously and scoots close to you, going slowly so you have a chance to tell him if you don’t want this. But you suddenly realize you do–you want him with every fibre of your being. His kiss is hesitant, still waiting for you to push him away. After the initial shock of the situation, you kiss him back more surely.

He shows you off all the time.

On your first date, Steve takes you dancing because that’s what he’s supposed to do, right? That’s what Bucky does with all the dames he takes out. Despite all the practicing he and Bucky do before your date, Steve is so self conscious. He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of you. But, you see him fumbling as he shoots you shy, nervous smiles when he misses a step. Your heart swells with affection for him as you decide to pretend to be equally hopeless. You trip over his foot a couple times, go for a spin when there clearly wasn’t a call for one. Steve loosens up as you both make up outrageous dance moves for the ones that can’t be done.

Originally posted by sov-ja

Bucky gets wind of it and refuses to go on a double date with this trainwreck of a couple until you get some dance lessons.

Bucky insists to teach you both himself in the boys’ apartment. He’s moved the furniture around to accommodate a dancefloor. You’re a pretty decent dancer, truth be told; but you keep up appearances for Steve’s sake. That, and it’s actually a lot more fun to botch dance moves with Bucky than you would have initially thought. The teasing was well worth hearing your man laugh until he couldn’t breathe. Literally. Poor baby agitated his Asthma more while laughing with you and Bucky than anything else.

Steve will realize one day that he’s still talking to you like you’re just his best friend Y/N. He gets a bit self conscious about it, and is determined to treat you more like a lady. You’re his girl, after all, and you should be treated like a queen. He stutters ‘more appropriate’ compliments out, blushing as soon as he sees the questioning look on your face. When you ask him what’s going on, he tells you that he’s trying to treat you like a girlfriend. You giggle, kissing his cheek and making him blush again. “You don’t have to worry about that, Stevie. I fell for you because you were my friend.”

Steve compliments you all the time. His goal is to make you blush at least once a day. Some days, though, it gets to be too much and you have to kiss him just to shut him up.

Just because Steve is you boyfriend now, doesn’t mean you don’t still hang out like you did before. You, Steve, and Bucky still go down to the creek and skip rocks together. You all still go to the railroad and have adventures in your abandoned railway car. Just because you and Steve steal kisses when you think Bucky isn’t looking, doesn’t change that the three of you are still best friends.

His notebooks are full of sketches and doodles of you, of your individual features. There’s a lot of your eyes, of your smile…conveying every emotion between the nose scrunch you do when he compliments you, to the little frown that pulls at your lips when Bucky says something unsavory (it doesn’t happen often, Bucky’s usually a gentleman around you), to the dreamy look you get in your eyes when you see a mother pushing her baby in a stroller.

One day, Steve is so caught up in watching you as you watch kids play at the park. “I’m gonna marry you.” He blurts it out with such sincerity, he blushes deeply. You just smile at him coyly. A sweet laugh falls from your lips and it makes Steve tumble further into the void. You spend the rest of the day proposing to Steve in crazy ways while he laughs, “Shaddup, Dollface.”

When he gets sick during the winter after his mom passes, you refuse to leave his side. He tells you that you’re gonna get sick, too, if you keep hanging around him; but, you don’t care. You and Bucky get scared for a couple of days. You both think it could be a possibility that this is the illness that will finally claim Steve’s life. But the little runt always proves you both wrong.

Steve’s such a sap about it. “I only made it because you stayed with me. I guess I have to marry you, now. You’re the only thing keeping me alive.” You’re so relieved that you’re crying and laughing so hard you have to bury your face in his chest. When you finally calm down, you place a delicate kiss on his forehead and smile fondly at him. “You’re darn right you do, you chucklehead.”

Steve’s gotten into less fights being with you. You’re so in sync with him that you know what makes his blood boil. His righteousness has bled into your being, and you can’t help but mouth off to any bully that you two come across. Even when they continue with their wrongdoing, you refuse to back down until they stalk off with their tail between their legs. Steve always goes a little starry eyed when this happens.

When the war breaks out, you know Steve will want to enlist and it makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You always hope and pray that he’ll get denied, and you’ll thank whatever deity was listening when he comes back with a sullen look on his face and rejection paper in his hand. You tell him that they don’t know what they’re missing out on. He launches into a speech about how he should be out there defending what’s his. He has so much patriotism, it moves you. You only feel a little guilty for being selfish and wanting to keep him home, safe.

When Bucky gets drafted, it’s hard on all of you. Steve tries to enlist again, and he comes home with the biggest grin on his face. Your stomach drops when you see the stamp of approval on his forms, but you smile and hug him because you know this is what he wants. When he lets you go, he looks at you seriously. “I know you’re scared, but they’re giving me a chance. I want to go out there and defend my country..defend my girl.” He brushes your hair away from your face. “And–and, well…” He stutters and fumbles to get something out of his pocket. “I want to know that you’ll still be here when I get back.” He holds a ring between his fingers, your breath leaves you completely. “So, Y/N, will you marry–?”

You don’t give him the opportunity to finish, pressing kiss after kiss to his lips as he slips the ring onto your finger.

When you take him to the train station, he kisses you longingly, knocking the breath out of you. Steve tells you he’ll write as soon as he can. The train starts moving, he almost misses it because he doesn’t want to leave you. As soon as he hops on, he yells, “I love you!” The goofy grin on his face makes you smile through your tears and you stay rooted on the spot until long after the train has left your sight.

Weeks pass and you don’t hear anything from Steve. No letters. No calls. You’re worried. Who wouldn’t be? That is, until you see the propaganda films of Captain America. He looks dreamy. So strong, so sure, so..familiar?

You’re in the middle of a theater when you realize that Captain America is Steve. Your fiancee, Steven Grant Rogers, is Captain America. You nearly pass out from the shock. You immediately go out and buy every paper that has news about Captain America in it.

It’s about four days after that when you finally get a call from him. He sounds so happy, so relieved to hear your voice before you go crazy. You ask him all kinds of questions, hardly waiting for a response before launching into another set of questions. “Doll! Doll!” he calls through the phone when he can hear you’re about to hyperventilate. “I’m okay. Let me tell you what happened.”

And he does. He tells you everything that’s happened since he left five months ago: the experimental procedure, traveling the country to sell bonds, Bucky’s capture, the very unauthorized rescue mission. He tells you that he’s part of a specialized group called the Howling Commandos. You listen, absolutely enraptured until he tells you that he has to go. He tells you he’ll call again soon.

Steve calls you weekly while he’s in the army. His calls become the highlight of your week.

You still collect newspapers with Captain America and the Howling Commandos news.

It’s late September 1945 when Steve and Bucky finally come home. You see Bucky first and launch into his arms, kissing his cheek, telling him how happy you are that he’s home. A throat clears beside you, and your jaw drops at the sight of your fiancee. Yes, you’d seen him in propagandas and newspaper articles, but seeing this new Steve in the flesh was something you’d have to get used to.

His smile is the same, though, and it melts your insides. You release Bucky and slowly make your way over to Steve, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him tightly into your embrace. His face is buried in your neck, strong arms wrapping around you and lifting you from the ground. You’re both so ecstatic that you’re crying. You’re pressing kisses wherever you can reach while he tells you how much he’s missed you, how he’s ready to marry you, start a family with you.

You two wind up going to the courthouse that day with Bucky as your witness and marry your best friend.

Blue– every oversized hug playing off memories of rain kissing away summer plays, these weighted reflections slicing book marks into greeting cards. I know what drowning alone feels like, darling, it isn’t a metaphor, but I still miss you most by the ocean. Heat– blushing the color of I miss you, your hands read sonnets to the stars and we’re still making wishes like we’re light enough to hold down that red balloon– I didn’t mean to let you go. Promises– bones break in more chapters than hearts, you tell me you love me and all my thoughts start to feel light. but you love the purity of rain, the obligation to burn in winter, the pastel of spring, and I’m not calm in nature. Red– you left a meteor near every love letter signed with your lipstick, I can feel the beginning of time right between our first greetings. We went wrong when we thought that falling in love this soon would be right, so I write about it. I write you into every summer that requires the heart to break near an empty bottle of red wine, sometimes love hurts, but most of the time… we just can’t get enough. Flash– gone just like that, we used to talk to one another like we were the last ones to love this bad, rumor has it that my heart still thinks about you when I’m holding other people. Darling, the rumors are fucking true. And I can fall in love with new people, but living in the moment is just a tease when we cross by one another on the streets as just passerby strangers with nothing to say, who is this person that I used to know? Just more fool’s gold, just more fool’s gold… i didn’t mean to hurt you then, i don’t mean to sulk over this, but i’m still somewhat in love with you. Post Script– seal these goodbyes with that infamous laugh of yours, the kind of laugh that makes people wonder about the joke, the kind of soul that makes people want to relearn the alphabet of love just to spell your fucking name and get it right the first time. No more P.S. I love you, just a P.S. I miss you. No more P.S. I left a letter for you, just a P.S. maybe we’ll meet again some day. No more P.S. I had a nice day with you, just a P.S. I wish that it didn’t have to hurt so bad, but maybe if we were more honest, more loyal, more open… they say that lovers mirror one another, do you think our shadows still hold one another when no one is looking and the moon is out? Does your skin miss my touch? Does your heart feel warm when someone mentions my name? Do we still love the same from years ago? Probably not, but the thought of you is the perfect definition for bittersweet. We used to be a thousand origami serendipities, but now we’re just burning at the mouth of a shooting star still trying to grant wishes for things that once were. Love– you were enough, you were always going to be enough.
—  The Ate & The Bunso
i know you’re tired.. i know you want to stop. you deserve more than this, you don’t have to settle for less. those tears are too precious, save them for the person who’s trully worth for it. i know you’re afraid to let someone in, again. i know you think that you’ll just get hurt, again. your heart is too good to be broken. just take your time, you’ll be fine. you don’t need to rush things. but please, don’t get stuck in a room that is full of pain and sadness. you’re strong, you’re a fighter. i know you’re insecure, i know that you’ve been hard to yourself. you can’t even remember how it feels to be happy, again. but soon, okay? you’ll smile again without pain in it. you’ll be okay, you’ll be better.
—  dear self // 3:25