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#you did not light me (i was always a mad comet) but you have fixed me

hgejfmw-hgejhsf · 7 months

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bad metaphors about maps

______________________________________________________________

A <[email protected]> - 9/25/20 3:21 AM

to Henry

i have had whiskey. bear with me.

there's this thing you do. this thing. it drives me crazy. i think about it all the time.

there's a corner of your mouth, and a place that it goes. pinched and worried like you're afraid you're forgetting something. i used to hate it. used to think it was your little tic of disapproval.

but i've kissed your mouth, that corner, that place it goes, so many times now. i've memorized it. topography on the map of you, a world i'm still charting. i know it. i added it to the key. here: inches to miles. i can multiply it out, read your latitude and longitude. recite your coordinates like la rosaria.

this thing, your mouth, its place. it's what you do when you're trying not to give yourself away. not in the way that you do all the time, those empty, greedy grabs for you. i mean the truth of you. the weird, perfect shape of your heart. the one on the outside of your chest.

on the map of you, my fingers can always find the green hills, wales. cool waters and a shore of white chalk. the ancient part of you carved out of stone in a prayerful circle, sacrosanct. your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

if i could spread it out on my desk, i'd find the corner of your mouth where it pinches with my fingers, and i'd smooth it away and you'd be marked with the names of saints like all the old maps. i get the nomenclature now - saints' names belong to miracles.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

fucking yrs,

p.s. wilfred owen to siegfried sassoon - 1917:

And you have fixed my Life - however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry hanover stuart fox #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb movie #rwrb book #rwrbedit #rwrb edit #my posts #my edits #bad metaphors about maps #yes I queued this until exactly 3:21 am on 9/25/23 #that's how madly in love I am with this book and movie #happy bad metaphors about maps day everyone

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mr-oscarwilde · 1 year

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Happy birthday Wilfred Owen! (b. 18th March 1893) ↳ Know that since mid-September, when you still regarded me as a tiresome little knocker on your door, I held you as Keats + Christ + Elijah + my Colonel + my father-confessor + Amenophis IV in profile. What's that mathematically? In effect it is this: that I love you, dispassionately, so much, so very much, dear Fellow, that the blasting little smile you wear on reading this can't hurt me in the least. If you consider what the above Names have severally done for me, you will know what you are doing. And you have fixed my Life – however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.

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nocoastposts · 4 months

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bad metaphors about maps

A <[email protected]> 9/25/20 3:21 AM to Henry

h ,

i have had whiskey. bear with me.

there's this thing you do. this thing. it drives me crazy. i think about it all the time.

there's a corner of your mouth, and a place that it goes. pinched and worried like you're afraid you're forgetting something. i used to hate it. used to think it was your little tic of disapproval.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

fucking yrs,

p.s. wilfred owen to siegfried sassoon—1917:

And you have fixed my Life-however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.

Re: Bad metaphors about maps

Henry <[email protected]> 9/25/20 6:07 AM to A

From Jean Cocteau to Jean Marais, 1939:

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for having saved me. I was drowning and you threw yourself into the water without hesitation, without a backward look.

#bad metaphors about maps #waterloo letters #rwrb emails #rwrb #rwrb book #fic reference #alex claremont diaz #firstprince #red white and royal blue #prince henry rwrb #prince henry of wales #henry fox #henry fox mountchristen windsor

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fromkenari · 7 months

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Waterloo Letters #5: bad metaphors about maps

bad metaphors about maps A [email protected] 9/25/20 3:21 AM to Henry h, i have had whiskey. bear with me. there’s this thing you do. this thing. it drives me crazy. i think about it all the time. there’s a corner of your mouth, and a place that it goes. pinched and worried like you’re afraid you’re forgetting something. i used to hate it. used to think it was your little tic of disapproval. but i’ve kissed your mouth, that corner, that place it goes, so many times now. i’ve memorized it. topography on the map of you, a world i’m still charting. i know it. i added it to the key. here: inches to miles. i can multiply it out, read your latitude and longitude. recite your coordinates like la rosaria. this thing, your mouth, its place. it’s what you do when you’re trying not to give yourself away. not in the way that you do all the time, those empty, greedy grabs for you. i mean the truth of you. the weird, perfect shape of your heart. the one on the outside of your chest. on the map of you, my fingers can always find the green hills, wales. cool waters and ashore of white chalk. the ancient part of you carved out of stone in a prayerful circle, sacrosanct. your spine’s a ridge i’d die climbing. if i could spread it out on my desk, i’d find the corner of your mouth where it pinches with my fingers, and i’d smooth it away and you’d be marked with the names of saints like all the old maps. i get the nomenclature now—saints’ names belong to miracles. give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there’s so much of you. fucking yrs, a p.s. wilfred owen to siegfried sassoon—1917: And you have fixed my Life—however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but shall swing out soon, a dark star in the or bit where you will blaze.

Re: Bad metaphors about maps Henry [email protected] 9/25/20 6:07 AM to A From Jean Cocteau to Jean Marais, 1939: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for having saved me. I was drowning and you threw yourself into the water without hesitation, without a backward look.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 318-320). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

#the last letter #bad metaphors about maps #waterloo letters #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #red white and royal blue #casey mcquiston #out of credits

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captaingondolin · 5 months

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“And you have fixed my life — however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.” Wilfred Owen in a letter to Sigfried Sassoon

#this quote makes me so feral #is this #codywan #obikin #rexobi #you pick but gods it is a good one #i was always a mad comet!!! crying screaming #a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze #words are magic #my tag

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aniron48 · 1 year

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Love Letters - Day 4

I don't know how it's possible, but we're already almost halfway through! You all have made this so much fun, and it's been an utter delight for me so far. 💜 If you're joining for the first time, you can catch up as follows: Day 1 Day 2 Day 3

As a reminder, there will be a post around this time (9pmish EST) every night through 2/14. And for those who are all caught up, welcome to day 4 of Love Letters, a 00q choose your own adventure! Congratulations, fellow nerds, you've unlocked the library. Day 4 starts below the cut.

His next stop should probably be to the library.

“Can I help you find anything?” A librarian with bright pink hair and a beard to match walked up to where Bond lingered in front of the new acquisitions shelf, trying to get his bearings.

Bond opened his mouth to decline, but he only had an hour and a half before he had to be back at MI6 for a meeting with the Budget Office, and not much idea where to start. Besides, he’d made sure nothing he borrowed could be traced to him, anyway. He’d taken out the library card in Mallory’s name.

“I don’t suppose you have any books on love letters?”

“Books about love letters? Or with examples of them?”

“Yes. Both. Either.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I pulled a few things that might be of interest for our Valentine’s Day display. It’s just over here.”

Bond followed the librarian, whose name badge read “Kai,” to a table decorated with construction paper drawings of candy hearts. They picked up a book called Indelible: Queer Love Letters through the Ages. “This just came in last month, and it’s gorgeous. Give it a look and see if it’s what you need.”

Bond took the book to one of the nearby tables and began to page through.

Before he knew it, nearly an hour had gone by. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, exactly. Perhaps that love letters from real people would be somehow less than the fictional letter Austen had written for Captain Wentworth—less profound, and more prosaic. There were mundane bits, to be sure, but somehow even they were suffused with light; enhanced, rather than diminished, by the love that brought them into focus.

“I just miss you,” Vita Sackville-West wrote to Virginia Woolf, “in a quite simple desperate human way…I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal.”

And there was profundity, too, a humanity that banked itself like the embers of a fire against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm it. Near the middle of the book, Bond found the letters of Wilfred Owen to Siegfried Sassoon.

“And you have fixed my Life—however short,” he wrote, almost a year to the day before he was killed in action, barely a week before the end of World War I. “You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.”

“What do you think?” Kai asked, returning to Bond’s table.

Bond cleared his throat. “It’s perfect,” he said. “Could I check this out?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you at the circulation desk.”

Kai took Bond’s library card and scanned it, saying as they did so, “You know, the editors of this anthology are putting together a companion version of contemporary letters. They’re asking people to send in copies of letters they’ve received, to show what love looks like now. If you’re fond of love letters, you should think about sending some in.”

Bond looked down at the circulation desk, rubbing ineffectually at a scuff mark with his finger. He thought of a flooded building in Venice, and all the hopes that had collapsed with it; of the dozens of married women and the handful of married men for whom Bond had been an excuse to pretend, for an hour, or an evening, or a week, that their lives were something more than a string of indistinguishable, empty days. He’d been happy to let them, at the time. He’d been using them for the same thing, after all. But there had been no love letters for him, either, even if he’d never felt the lack until now.

“No,” he said after a moment. “No, I don’t have anything I could send in.”

“Well, you never know,” Kai said, handing over the book. “Valentine’s Day is coming up. You might get lucky.”

“You never know,” Bond said, slipping his library card back in his wallet. “Thanks again.”

As he walked back to MI6, the book safely wrapped in his jacket, he thought, finally, that he might have everything he needed to write Q a proper love letter.

I made up the title of the book Bond looks through, but the love letters (and many more like them!) are real. You can find the letter from Vita Sackville-West here, and the one from Wilfred Owen here.

#Love Letters #Love Letters Day 4 #00q #choose your own adventure #00q choose your own adventure

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majestativa · 2 months

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You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me.

— Wilfred Owen, My Gothic Heart, (2023)

#English #Wilfred Owen #My Gothic Heart #(2023)#Essence

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typewriter-worries · 2 years

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Wilfred Owen, in a letter to Siegfried Sassoon

[ Text ID: And you have fixed my life --- however / short. You did not light me: I was always a / mad comet; but you have fixed me ]

#wilfred owen #siegfried sassoon #my upload #dark academia #light academia #romantic academia #classic academia #grey academia #chaotic academia #cottage academia #literature quotes #red white and royal blue

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apoemadaykeepsthehoesaway · 10 months

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Wild With All Regret

-Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)

(To S.S.) //Siegfried Sassoon

My arms have mutinied against me, - brutes!

My fingers fidget like ten idle brats,

My back’s been stiff for hours, damned hours.

Death never gives his squad a Stand-at-ease.

I can’t read. There: it’s no use. Take your book.

A short life and a merry one, my buck!

We said we’d hate to grow dead old. But now,

Not to live old seems awful: not to renew

My boyhood with my boys, teach ‘em hitting,

Shooting and hunting, - and all the arts of hurting!

- Well, that’s what I learnt. That, and making money.

Your fifty years in store seems none too many,

But I’ve five minutes. God! For just two years

To help myself to this good air of yours!

One spring! Is one too hard to spare? Too long?

Spring air would find its own way to my lung,

And grow me legs as quick as lilac-shoots.

Yes, there’s the orderly. He’ll change the sheets

When I’m lugged out. Oh, couldn’t I do that?

Here in this coffin of a bed, I’ve thought

I’d like to kneel and sweep his floors for ever, -

And ask no nights off when the bustle’s over,

For I’d enjoy the dirt. Who’s prejudiced

Against a grimed hand when his one’s quite dust, -

Less live than specks that in the sun-shafts turn?

Dear dust - in rooms, on roads, on faces’ tan!

I’d love to be a sweep’s boy, black as Town;

Yes, or a muck-man. Must I be his load?

A flea would do. If one chap wasn’t bloody,

Or went stone-cold, I’d find another body.

Which I shan’t manage now. Unless it’s yours.

I shall stay in you, friend, for some few hours.

You’ll feel my heavy spirit chill your chest,

And climb your throat, on sobs, until it’s chased

On sighs, and wiped from off your lips by wind.

I think on your rich breathing, brother, I’ll be weaned

To do without what blood remained me from my wound.

Some Context & Quotes:

•This was later expanded into Owens poem ‘A Terre’

• “W’s death was an unhealed wound and the ache of it has been with me ever since. I wanted him back - not his poetry” - Sassoon on Owen’s death

• “I held you as Keats + Christ + Elijah + my Colonel + my father confessor + Amenophis IV in profile. What’s that mathematically?

In effect, it is this: that I love you, dispassionately, so much, so very much, dear fellow, that the blasting little smile you wear on reading this can’t hurt me in the least.

If you consider what the above Names have severally done for me, you will know what you are doing. And you have fixed my Life - however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.” - Wilfred Owen to Siegfried Sassoon

#honestly this one makes me cry so much #he’s so full of love #ww1 #war poetry #wilfred owen #thought I’d add some context and quotes to this one #let me know if you think I should keep doing that #or just write separate analyses or maybe add my analysis to the end of the poem?#I don’t know #remembrance #grief #love poetry

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mad-komet · 3 months

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i see a new username has dropped! love it. also where did you get your header? love that too!

thank you!! the username is inspired by a love letter Wilfred Owen wrote to Siegfried Sassoon on Nov. 5th, 1917, and as we well know WW1 is closely tied to hockey. (Nos bras meurtris vous tendent le flambeau...)

[Alt ID: Know that since mid-September, when you still regarded me as a tiresome little knocker on your door, I held you as Keats + Christ + Elijah + my Colonel + my father-confessor + Amenophis IV in profile. What's that mathematically? In effect it is this: that I love you, dispassionately, so much, so very much, dear fellow, that the blasting little smile you wear on reading this can't hurt me in the least. If you consider what the above Names have severally done for me, you will know what you are doing. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun around you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.]

Also, the Fort Wayne Komets, after the original six nhl teams and the hershey bears, are one of the professional hockey teams in north america to play the longest in the same city with the same name continuously! (1952)

Fort Wayne, IN the closest thing to a hometown team I'll get.

The header was made by @/gustavlindstrom for one of Barzal's previous birthdays (and who I now see has remade as @/doubleminor). I have their original post in my queue <3

#ask

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butchdykekondraki · 1 year

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What's that mathematically?

In effect it is this: that I love you, dispassionately, so much, so very much, dear Fellow, that the blasting little smile you wear on reading this can't hurt me in the least.

If you consider what the above Names have severally done for me, you will know what you are doing. And you have fixed my Life – however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.

excerpt from a letter from owen to sassoon. do you understand now why i am thinking

anon im thinking too this is so . my god /pos

#[jay]

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venomous--fics · 3 years

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Anon Requested: Omg wait can i request a fic where reader feels like they aren’t good enough for eddie and venom so reader breaks up with them and eddies sad and just a lot of angst (BUT happy ending) if not thats okay !

A/n: Day 5!! I'm think about just extending the weekathon to the entire month! Not too sure yet, but I should decide quickly huh!! I just think it'd be fun to do something like that. Maybe get more and more festive along the way. What do you think?

Song: Halley's Comet by Billie Eilish

"So, that's just it? You're just gonna up and leave and not tell us why?"

He wanted to sound mad, but his voice gave it all away. You couldn't stand the thought of what you were doing to them both. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at them as you left. You didn't even bother to grab your things. You just left emptyhanded.

Subconsciously, maybe you knew you'd find your way back eventually. But...Not now.

The weight of the world began to crush you with every step you took away from their place. You knew they were watching you from the window. If you had to leave, they'd at least make sure you'd stay safe.

It all felt like a cruel punchline to an unfunny joke. How could you be such a fool to think you'd be good for them? They....They were a protector. A lethal one, but still a protector. They helped people and saved the world from every threat imaginable. You sometimes couldn't even drag yourself out of bed.

It didn't seem fair to drag them down like that. They deserved better. They deserved the world, and you just couldn't give them that. Someday they'd find someone who would.

That night was spent alone on a friend's spare guest bed. The world was so quiet. There were no streetlights beaming into your room. There was no more sounds of late night traffic or the people talking and walking as they passed under your shared window.

There was no more fighting Venom for the comforter because he'd purposely hog it just to get your attention. It always worked. There wasn't the usually jokes about forgetting to set your alarms for the work morning ahead.

You simply set your alarm and laid down. The world seemed so much colder and emptier. It didn't seem fun and bright anymore. The bed felt much more spacious now.. The pillows felt too squishy and new. The sheets looked nothing like his.

Staring at the wall wasn't going to put you to sleep any faster, so you rolled over and clamped your eyes shut. You willed yourself to not cry.

The tv kept repeating the same old stuff. Robbery after robbery. Someone got shot. A car accident. Oh, it's going to rain tomorrow.

We should be fixing that..

"I don't feel like doing anything anymore."

"I don't feel like doing anything anymore either, V."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Normally there'd be some form of a pep talk from you, but now.. Your spot on the couch was empty. All that was there to suggest that you even existed was your favorite throw pillow.

With hesitation, Eddie grabbed the pillow and held it in his lap. It still looked brand new, and that's simply because you always knew how to take care of things. Nothing of yours ever really got broken or misplaced..And you always knew just how to handle things.

"I miss them."

A thought they shared in common. It's felt like months, but it's only been a couple of weeks. Your things were still occupying space here. It was almost torturous having to look at them each day and know that you weren't going to come home.

It was that thought that broke them both. They curled up on the couch, sad and defeated. The world was incomplete because you weren't here to make ti better. A rough day at work? You'd say, "Oh, don't worry." as you made some hot coco to relax with. Emotions getting out of control? You were always there with ways to fix them.

Did they take you for granted? Did they forget to cherish you? Did they do something wrong? Everyone always told them that they were just screwups who ruined everything, so maybe they just fucked it up again.

Maybe they'd learn to live with it. Just not today.

It's just not home anymore. Home is where you were.

The rain was awfully heavy today. But you were thankful. Today was hitting you harder than the last few. You were stumbling down the sidewalk, tears streaming down your face. Nothing seemed to hold any meaning anymore. You'd pass by Mrs. Chen's shop, and normally you'd stop by there to get Eddie and V a snack or two. But now, you simply keep walking.

Today you just let your body walk. To where? Wherever you felt like you needed to go. You were so tired, and so worn down. That only help cement in the fact that you just... You were an absolute nobody. Who could love a nobody?

If only you were born gifted with the brains, the talents or even the powers. Maybe you'd be worth something. Maybe you'd see yourself as more. Maybe if you felt like you held any importance to anyone, you'd find a reason to stick around anywhere, with anyone.

Despite wanted to be more to literally anyone, all you could think is being better for them. They meant so much, no, no, they mean so much to you. It felt so dumb and childish to be so hung up on two of the goofiest creatures on this planet. You couldn't lie to anyone. You were hopelessly in love with Eddie Brock, a man who truly was a breed of his own. And you were in love with Venom, an alien with a heart bigger than his stomach but he's too embarrassed to say it.

You don't want to love them anymore. Because you still believe it was better to not be with them.

You slumped against a light post and wiped your eyes. You tried everything to stop the tears from flowing, but that only made them multiply. You'd scold yourself if you had the energy.

The world really did begin to feel more and more empty. People seemed to walk pass and not even give you a second glance. None of them cared, and to be honest, neither did you. Normally you never noticed other people, because you'd be so wrapped up in whatever it was you and Eddie, and yes, Venom too, were doing.

But they aren't here anymore. You were back to where you started. Alone and afraid of what the world had in store. You used to wake up knowing what you'd be doing...But now you weren't sure.

You remained leaned against the streetlight for an eternity. The sun had set and the moon had risen, yet you remained put. Everything was cold now. The rain had subsided, but the light continued to drip down on you, but even then, you didn't have the willpower to move.

It's better to be cold than to have never been warm, right? That is how the saying goes...Right?

You sniffled, waiting for the next set of drops to hit your head, but they never did. You slowly looked up and saw someone's hands holding up a jacket. They looked like they were doing their best to hold it up like an umbrella, and without touching you. You recognized the jacket immediately, even just from seeing the inside of it. You'd worn it so many times.

You stood up straight and turned around, being greeted with the sight of Eddie. He looked just as tired as you, and just as lost. He looked like he had a million things to say, but it seems like the cat had his tongue.

The universe was giving you a chance. For some reason.

"I'm sorry." was the first thing to spill out of your mouth.

"We're sorry, too."

"You didn- It was me. I was.." You took a step back from under the jacket, but it seems like Venom wasn't having any of that. He moved Eddie's body for him, this time, draping the jacket on your shoulders.

You gently crossed your arms and held them close, appreciating the gesture now.

"You can leave now. If you want." Eddie moved back a little, "We just saw that you were cold.."

"I don't want to go." you gripped onto the jacket, trying to fight the new wave of tears threatening to come out, "I just.. I had to because I felt like I wasn't good enough."

You were about to ramble on when Eddie cut you off, "That's why you left?"

"I'm sorry." You felt like you could just curl up and die on the sidewalk.

You looked down, staring at the cracks that littered the walkway. You'd find someway to make this poetic.

Two hands, one human and the other very much not, wrapped themselves around you as they pulled you into a warm embrace.

"Did we make you feel that way?"

The way Eddie's voice cracked made your arms go limp at your sides.

"No. I made myself feel that way- But I can't help it. You guys do so much good and I-"

"We love you."

The hug got tighter, "We used to do what we did because it was the right thing to do. But then we met you and it all changed. It seems so cliche to say that, but...It's true."

"You're just saying that."

"We adore you. We promised to do everything we can to make sure we leave this world a better place for you."

Your hands shook as your fought with yourself. You wanted to hold them just as close as they were holding you, but you felt-

"I don't deserve this.."

Unworthy.

In typical Brock fashion, and never knowing how to truly deal with his emotions, Eddie clung to you, almost pleading, "Would you just listen to what we're saying."

"You can't love me."

"Why the hell not? Huh? Whose going to stop us?"

"Nobody's going to stop us."

"Why is it me. Out of all the worthy people, why me?"

"You're such a good person. I know you don't see that..But you're the kindest person I've ever met."

"Certainly the nicest I've met..."

Every last word you wanted to yell out into the night sky just vanished from your mind. You wrapped your arms around Eddie and squeezed as hard as you could.

"How many times do we have to say it to make you believe it?"

"I'll say it a billion times," Eddie said, "Most guys would quit at a million but me? I don't know when to quit."

"It's true. He doesn't. But if saying it a billion times gets you to come home, then I'd do it a million more than him."

"I," You started, taking in a deep shaky breath, "I wanna go home regardless."

"We can talk more there if you're comfortable."

"With coco."

"I would like that."

The walk home was a talkative one.

Eddie's hand held yours tightly, but not too tight. He was so afraid that if he didn't hold it firmly enough, you'd simply slip away again. He was sure as hell not letting that happen again.

The apartment looked the exact same as when you left. You were so surprised by that. Normally they'd be a mess if you were gone for too long, and the apartment would reflect that.

"It all looks the same."

"Oh. Yeah." Eddie busied himself with fetching the hot chocolate ingredients.

"We couldn't bring ourselves to ruin your hard work...Or move your things." For the first time, Venom seemed sad.

They both seemed tired. You wanted to feel bad, knowing that they felt that way because of you. But knowing that they loved you meant that they felt bad, not because of you, but because you were gone.

Without thinking, your hand reached out and grabbed Eddie's arm, startling him a little.

"Can we go lay down for a little bit.." you asked quietly, "I think we all need a little rest."

Relief washed over him as he set down the cups and lead the way to the bedroom. There was no more words as you three crashed onto the mattress. Venom used a small tendril to turn the lamp off and pull you closer to Eddie.

"Are you okay with loving a nobody like me?" you asked as you watched him shut his eyes.

"Are you okay with loving two nobodies?"

"We are all losers."

Venom pulled a blanket over you and Eddie, going so far as to fluff the pillows under your heads.

"And that's okay. I love us the way we all are."

You yawned for the first time in ages as your eyes closed, "I love us too."

There was that familiar light coming through the window. And there was the sounds of the cars and the people. The world felt just right and you were home. You moved closer to Eddie and placed a quick, soft kiss on his lips, and his arms were quick to wrap around you.

You felt a soft tendril wrap around your arm.

"I know what you're feeling and what you're thinking." His voice sounded surprisingly quiet, "But you are more than enough for us. We don't say it, but sometimes we feel the same way. You could certainly do better than us. But.."

The tendril tighten a little, but not enough to really do much.

"You left and we realized...We don't know what to do without you. We didn't feel like doing anything anymore. It felt pointless."

You turned your head to look at your arm, seeing two small white eyes staring at you with a mixture of sadness and adoration.

"I know I'm not good with these human emotions..I might never be good with them, but..I know that I love you. And Eddie loves you too. We always try our best to show you..But you are truly all we need to be happy in this life."

You were a bit shocked with how much Venom had to say. Most of the time, he tried to use the least amount of words possible to get his point across, so you knew that he meant it.

"You both complete me, and for once, I finally have the courage to say it, because I don't know when I'll get the chance to say it again."

You smiled softly at him, and moved your arm in a way where you could place a soft kiss onto the top of his tiny little worm head.

"I won't leave again. I promise we can talk about it first."

"Talking is good."

"I love you, V."

"I love you too." He seemed to pause as he shot a glance up to Eddie, just to make sure he was still asleep, "More than that guy."

"Not possible." Eddie groaned, adjusting a little.

You smiled a little as you curled up under the blanket and actually shut your eyes for good for the night. Finally, a good night's rest. You still had doubts, maybe not many and none as big and frightening as before, but that was normal.

Not everything in life is a given or a certainty. You're not promised to tomorrow and it's not a give that you'll be a millionaire. But where you are now is where you're supposed to be. Don't doubt it. The two halves of your heart will quite literally walk to the ends of the universe just to see you smile, and that's more than enough for you.

#venom imagine #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock x reader #venom x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

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marvelgeeklikestowrite · 2 years

Text

Letters and lines quoted by Alex and Henry in their e-mails

Sense and Sensibility: “You want nothing but patience—or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope.”

Alexander Hamilton to Laurens: The truth is I am an unlucky honest man, that speak my sentiments to all and with emphasis. I say this to you because you know it and will not charge me with vanity. I hate Congress—I hate the army—I hate the world—I hate myself. The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you …

Hamilton said it better in a letter to Eliza: You engross my thoughts too entirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

Allen Ginsberg to Peter Orlovsky—1958: Tho I long for the actual sunlight contact between us I miss you like a home. Shine back honey & think of me.

Henry James to Hendrik C. Andersen, 1899: May the terrific U.S.A. be meanwhile not a brute to you. I feel in you a confidence, dear Boy–which to show is a joy to me. My hopes and desires and sympathies right heartily and most firmly, go with you. So keep up your heart, and tell me, as it shapes itself, your (inevitably, I imagine, more or less weird) American story. May, at any rate, tutta quella gente be good to you.

Hamilton to Laurens: You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent.

Dear Thisbe,

I wish there weren’t a wall.

Love, Pyramus

Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf—1927: With me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal.

From Radclyffe Hall to Evguenia Souline, 1934: Darling—I wonder if you realize how much I am counting on your coming to England, how much it means to me—it means all the world, and indeed my body shall be all, all yours, as yours will be all, all mine, beloved.… And nothing will matter but just we two, we two longing loves at last come together.

Eleanor Roosevelt to Lorena Hickock—1933: I miss you greatly dear. The nicest time of the day is when I write to you. You have a stormier time than I do but I miss you as much, I think.… Please keep most of your heart in Washington as long as I’m here for most of mine is with you!

From Michelangelo to Tommaso Cavalieri, 1533: I know well that, at this hour, I could as easily forget your name as the food by which I live; nay, it were easier to forget the food, which only nourishes my body miserably, than your name, which nourishes both body and soul, filling the one and the other with such sweetness that neither weariness nor fear of death is felt by me while memory preserves you to my mind. Think, if the eyes could also enjoy their portion, in what condition I should find myself.

Richard Wagner to Eliza Wille, re: Ludwig II–1864 : It is true that I have my young king who genuinely adores me. You cannot form an idea of our relations. I recall one of the dreams of my youth. I once dreamed that Shakespeare was alive: that I really saw and spoke to him: I can never forget the impression that dream made on me. Then I would have wished to see Beethoven, though he was already dead. Something of the same kind must pass in the mind of this lovable man when with me. He says he can hardly believe that he really possesses me. None can read without astonishment, without enchantment, the letters he writes to me.

Wilfred owen to siegfried sassoon—1917:And you have fixed my Life—however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.

Jean Cocteau to Jean Marais, 1939: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for having saved me. I was drowning and you threw yourself into the water without hesitation, without a backward look.

#alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex x henry #red white and royal blue #rwrb alex #rwrb spoilers #rwrb henry #letters #love letters #idiots in love

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mr-oscarwilde · 2 years

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Know that since mid-September, when you still regarded me as a tiresome little knocker on your door, I held you as Keats + Christ + Elijah + my Colonel + my father-confessor + Amenophis IV in profile. What's that mathematically? In effect it is this: that I love you, dispassionately, so much, so very much, dear Fellow, that the blasting little smile you wear on reading this can't hurt me in the least. If you consider what the above Names have severally done for me, you will know what you are doing. And you have fixed my Life – however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.

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unhistorical · 3 years

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And you have fixed my Life – however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze... Someday, I must tell how we sang, shouted, whistled and danced through the dark lanes through Colinton; and how we laughed till the meteors showered around us, and we felt calm under the winter stars. And some of us saw the pathway of the spirits for the first time. And seeing it so far above us, and feeling the good road so safe beneath us, we praised God with louder whistling; and knew we loved one another as no men love for long.

Letter from Wilfred Owen to Siegfried Sassoon, November 1917.

#:-|#quote #wilfred owen #siegfried sassoon #lgbt #world war i

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