#and the day i can write fancy HAND WRITTEN LETTERS TO FRIENDS????

[rabioa]

I absolutely LOVE writing emails. I feel so professional and cool and and eofkafkkakfkaa. Makes me feel productive ykyk? I get to THINK before I speak ykyk (something vv rare when it comes to me)

But phone calls are..... giskfjakkfka (derogatory)

Even if its with friends I get so stressed. Bc like I dont understand what you're saying in person most of the time, what makes you think a phone call will help that??? And its so awkward bc im all about gestures and stuff but then I cant do it and im just waving my hands in the air all alone????? And omg I hate Profesional calls the most bc I need to write stuff down while listening and I need understand what they're saying and if I gotta pull stuff up to answer to their stuff im 💀💀💀💀

But ig i survive all of those phone calls so its bearable 😭😭😭

If you vote please reblog.

[candycandy00]

Welcome to Christmas Island! - A Sanji x Reader Fanfic

You work on Christmas Island, where every day is Christmas! All guests get to make a wish to Santa and have it granted. When the Straw Hat pirates show up, you decide to grant the wish of their handsome blonde cook. 

Smut. 18+. Sanji x Fem Reader. Implied that Sanji is a virgin. Oral sex. Cream pie. I haven’t written Sanji in 20 years so I hope I got him right!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Part of CandyCandy’s Kinkmas 2024!

You’ve lived and worked on Christmas Island for the past few years, but you still get excited each time new guests arrive, especially when they’re famous. 

It was only a matter of time before the Straw Hat pirates landed on this little island, and all your coworkers were equally hyped up to meet them. You’ve all followed their exploits in the newspapers for months, becoming fans along the way. Even the owner of the island, “Santa”, admires them! 

You’ve looked at all their wanted posters countless times, but one of them stood out to you: a silly looking blonde man named Sanji. While your friends were more interested in the more “cool looking” pirates, you found Sanji charming. You know it’s a silly picture, so you’re interested in finding out what he actually looks like. 

Your chance comes when the Straw Hats arrive and check into the enormous resort that takes up the entire island. They walk in, most of them gawking at the huge lobby full of Christmas trees and twinkling lights. They’re chatting and laughing amongst themselves, and their reputation for being fun-loving seems to be accurate.

Taming your excitement, you hurry over to greet them in your candy cane striped dress. 

“Welcome to Christmas Island!” you say in your cheeriest voice. “Please come in and sit down. I’ll explain how things work here.”

They begin taking seats in the plush red sofas positioned in the middle of the room. You do a mental headcount as you watch them, trying not to seem like an overly eager fan. 

Sanji spots you before you spot him. He steps up beside you, gently taking your hand in his. “Such a lovely lady here to welcome us!” he says, placing a quick kiss on the top of your hand. “This island is a dream already!”

When he raises his face to look at you, a breath catches in your throat. He’s way more handsome than you expected! His wanted poster barely resembles him, but the blonde hair and curly eyebrow are unmistakable. 

He smiles at you and takes his seat. You give the group a moment to settle down and get quiet before you begin. 

“On Christmas Island, every day is Christmas! At this resort, you’ll each write a letter to “Santa” asking for a Christmas present. You’ll receive that gift during your stay. Keep in mind we can only grant wishes for material goods or services. We can’t give you impossible things. For example, you can’t ask us to withdraw bounties or give you skills that can’t be learned while you’re here.”

They seem to understand, a few of them nodding. You pass out fancy notecards for them to write their Christmas wishes on, along with red envelopes for them to seal the “letters to Santa” in. 

A woman you recognize as Nami looks a bit skeptical as she eyes the notecard. “How much does this cost?”

Some of the others look at you, curious about the answer. 

You smile and shake your head. “No cost at all! There’s normally a fee, but since we’re all fans of the Straw Hat pirates, even Santa said to give you all the VIP treatment at no charge!”

The group seems happy to hear that, a couple of them actually cheering. Then they all begin writing on their notecards. Once they’re finished, you retrieve them and another employee shows the guests to their rooms. They’re all given private rooms, each one beautifully decorated with festive trees and lights. 

Later, you and two coworkers are reading the notecards to begin processing the wishes. 

“Look,” your friend says, giggling as she holds one out. “The captain just wrote one word: Meat!”

You laugh as you glance at a card in your own hand that says, “A year’s supply of cola”. 

Most of the requests are fairly reasonable and fit the crew members’ reputations. But at the bottom of the stack is one that stands out to you. 

“A sweet lady who wants to spend time with me.”

Your heart nearly skips a beat. You expected something perverted from the famously horny cook of the Straw Hat pirates, but Sanji’s request is surprisingly cute. 

“Can I take this one?” you ask, a little worried that one of your coworkers might have their eye on him. 

The two women look at each other and shrug. “It’s yours if you want it,” one of them says. The other nods in agreement. 

Thank goodness! You didn’t want there to be any awkwardness with your friends, but you were prepared to argue for this. Thankfully you don’t have to. 

One of them leans toward you conspiratorially. “What if he just wrote that as a nice way of saying he wants someone to fuck him?”

You grin at her. “Actually, I’m kind of hoping that’s the case!”

The others squeal in delight and cheer you on. “You get it, girl!”

You return to your own quarters to freshen up and change into your cutest red dress, then you head down the guest hall to find Sanji’s room. You only have to knock once before he opens it. Was he waiting by the door for his “present”?

He blinks as he looks at you, then smiles. “Oh, you’re the one who welcomed us!”

You return his smile. “I’m surprised you recognized me.” There are lots of women working here who wear the same dress you had on earlier. It’s basically the uniform. 

He steps aside, opening the door wider and gesturing for you to come in. “I never forget a beautiful lady’s face,” he tells you as you walk into his room. 

The comment makes you blush, but you giggle nervously and change the subject. “Are you settled in okay? Do you need anything?”

Looking around the room, you can see the closet door slightly open, and a few dress shirts neatly hanging inside. The bed doesn’t appear to be messed up at all, and everything is in its place. On a small table with two chairs, there’s a glass ash tray that’s nearly full. 

“I don’t need anything at all,” he says as he pulls out one of the chairs for you. “But can I offer you something to drink? I’m sure you know what the options are.”

You do. There’s a small variety of alcoholic drinks in the mini fridge, plus a hot water machine with various teas and coffees. 

As you sit in the offered chair, you accept his offer, taking a cup of tea. In all honesty, you just want to watch him prepare something. His skills are quite well known.  

You watch him fix your tea, his hands moving expertly to prepare it in the perfect manner. Then he sits the steaming cup in front of you and takes the seat on the other side of the table. 

The tea is delicious of course, leaving you wondering what you’ve been doing when you make it for yourself. He seems to like watching you enjoy it, a smile practically glued to his face. 

“It’s wonderful! I can’t believe it’s from the same tea we use!” 

After a few minutes of friendly chatting, you sit down your empty cup and get down to business. “Regarding your wish…”

His smile falters, a blush creeps over his face. “It’s okay if it can’t be granted!” he says quickly. “I’ll just take some new utensils, or maybe some rare spices if you have them here.”

Does he not realize you’re his present? He seems to have the wrong idea about your visit. Just how many times has this poor guy been rejected? 

You reach across the table and put one hand on his arm. “We can easily grant your wish,” you say. “In fact, that’s what I’m here for.”

He freezes, staring at you. His stunned eyes shift down to your hand, then back to your face. “You… want to spend time with me?”

“I’d love to!”

He still seems to be in shock. “Are you sure?”

You reach into the pocket if your dress and pull out a folded paper. You smooth it out on the table and slide it over to him. It’s his wanted poster. 

He blanches when he sees it, but before he can say anything, you blurt out, “I’m a fan of yours!”

“Huh?”

Now it’s your turn to blush again. “I mentioned before that all of us here are fans of the Straw Hat pirates, but we each have our favorites. You happen to be mine.”

He’s rapidly turning red. “Really?”

You nod. “I even keep your wanted poster in my pocket at all times.”

He glances at the poster. “But it’s such an unflattering picture of me…”

“You look fun! You look like someone I’d like to hang out with. And yes, you’re way more handsome in person.”

If this were a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of his ears. He almost seems to melt into his chair. “You think I’m handsome?!”

“Of course! I was so excited to meet you, so I happily volunteered to grant your wish!”

He has tears in his eyes as he takes both your hands in his across the table. “This place really is like a dream!”

And so the two of you laugh and talk and enjoy more tea for the next hour. He tells you funny stories about their travels and you tell him about some of the craziest wishes you’ve received. 

At some point, perhaps growing bold from the friendly atmosphere, you say, “To be honest, I wondered if maybe ‘spend time with you’ was code for something else.”

He seems genuinely confused, which is adorable. “Something else?”

You lean forward, subtly showing off your cleavage. “Something more… intimate.”

It seems like a shiver runs through his body, but then he composes himself and says, “I didn’t want anyone to feel obligated to do that.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” you say, looking as disappointed as you can, “because I was hoping it was code.”

His mouth falls open, the cigarette slipping from his lips. You can almost see hearts in his eyes. He seems to be trying to form words for a reply, but failing. 

You stand up and walk around the table to be closer to him. “I’m your present tonight, so you can do whatever you want with me.”

He swallows, looking up at you as if you’re a goddess that has come down to him from heaven. “Whatever I want?”

“Anything.”

His eyes dart about the room, as if he’s worried this might be some prank and someone else is waiting to rush out and tell him so. After a moment, he looks back at you. “Can I k-kiss you?”

You nod. “I’d like that.”

He stands up from the chair and steps right up to you. He slowly places his hands on your shoulders. So gentle! He’s treating you like a delicate little creature that will flee if he’s not careful. 

As he leans down, his eyes flutter closed, and you can see the blush across his cheeks. You feel the tips of his golden hair first, then his lips softly press against yours. It’s a chaste kiss, his hands lightly trembling on your shoulders. 

You’ve heard so many conflicting rumors about him. Some say he’s a totally lecherous horndog who fucks anything that moves. Others say he’s a sophisticated gentleman who respects women. Still others say he’s a pathetic virgin who can’t get laid to save his life. You’re beginning to suspect the truth is some strange mix of all three. 

You reach up and put your arms around his neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss. His tongue finally slips into your mouth, and he tastes like cigarettes and the tea you’ve both been drinking. 

When the kiss breaks, he looks positively lovestruck. But his arms are around your waist, holding you closer to him. You can feel the bulge in his pants, and you lightly grind yourself against it. “What else would you like to do?” you ask playfully. 

“Lady’s choice,” he says, the smooth gentleman peeking out again. “I’d love to know what youwant to do.”

You grin mischievously at him and say, “Sit down and I’ll show you.”

He moves back to sit in the chair so fast, your eyes could barely follow him. You giggle at his eagerness as he stares at you. You take a moment to pull up the edge of your red dress on one side, up to your hip. It’s enough to show him you’re not wearing panties without revealing the whole present. 

His eyes bulge, and you’re guessing something else is bulging even more now. You prance over and then lower yourself to your knees before reaching out and unbuckling his belt. You hear him breathe in through his teeth, and you look up to see his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breaths. You smile as you open his pants and slide one hand in, using it to pull out the prize you’ve been seeking. 

He’s bigger than you expected, and elegantly shaped. It’s such a nice cock, such a waste that it’s been neglected for so long. You can fix that. 

Your hand wraps around it and you slide it up and down the shaft. You can hear him breathing heavily as he watches, stunned. When you lean forward and give the tip a little lick, his hands suddenly grip the arm rests of the chair. You can hear the wood creaking under the force. 

Smiling to yourself over the fact that you can reduce a powerful, famous pirate to this state with one lick, you wrap your lips around him and take his twitching cock into your mouth. 

He groans, his head falling back and his eyes closing again as you begin bobbing your head back and forth, your lips gliding along his length. Your tongue swirls his tip, your throat tightens around him when he’s deep enough, and his panting above you makes such sweet music in your ears. 

Finally he places his hand on your shoulder and says in a strained voice, “I’m… I’m about to…”

You pull back and grin. “Please cum in my mouth.” Then your lips are around him again, sucking lightly and lapping at his tip. 

He looks torn between desire and being a gentleman, but desire wins out. With a moan he releases his load onto your tongue, and you drink it down eagerly. 

After a moment, you stand up, licking your lips. You stand nearby while his breathing slows to a normal pace. Then he looks at you. “That was incredible… you’re an angel!”

You laugh and take one of his hands, placing it atop your head as you lean toward him. “You’re supposed to pat my head and call me a good girl.”

His face turns scarlet, but he does as you wish, lightly patting your head and saying, “Such a good girl!”

You giggle at that, then look down between his legs. He’s beginning to get hard again, which is exactly what you’re waiting for. 

“So? What would you like me to do next?” you ask. 

He looks a little shy and awkward as he says, “Can we… have sex?”

You reach down and pull your dress up, all the way to your waist this time, giving him an eye full. His cock instantly becomes fully hard, his eyes seeming to turn to hearts again. “I thought you’d never ask,” you tell him as you step closer and straddle his lap, letting his lovely cock rest against your slickened pussy. That alone makes his entire body quiver. 

When you rise up and position his tip at your entrance, then sink down onto him, a gasp escapes him. His arms wrap around your body, holding you firmly but gently. You have to wiggle a bit to get free enough to begin riding him, your hips swiveling. 

Sanji groans as his own hips buck from the chair, pushing deeper inside you. Then he pauses, a worried expression on his face, and says, “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”

You smile, pushing your own body down to take him even deeper. “It feels good when you go deep,” you say, and his breath hitches, his eyes widening before he starts fucking up into you, slowly and deeply. One of his hands is on your waist now, the other buried in your hair. 

As you grind down onto him, his taut skin rubs against your clit, making your own breaths shallow and quick. His tip hits your cervix, and a shudder ripples through you. When you moan out his name, his cock throbs inside you, making you arch your back in pleasure. When you do, he buries his face in your chest, his tongue peeking out to lap at one pert nipple. 

He raises his face to look you in the eyes. “I’m in love with you!” he exclaims, his hands tightening their grip on you slightly. 

You smile, but don’t reply. Men always say that while they’re inside a woman, but you have no expectations. In a few days Sanji will sail away from here and you’ll never hear from him again. But you’ll treasure these memories of being with him for the rest of your life. 

He feels so good inside you, your clit is practically pulsing. He kisses you again, so sweetly. It’s a romantic kiss, the kind shared by people in love, and his hand slides down from your hair to rest softly on your neck. 

It’s all enough to push you over the edge, and you cum while still riding him, your body trembling in his arms. 

Watching you cum seems to push him to climax as well, and he suddenly pulls you tightly against him as he shoots his load into your core. 

The two of you remain intertwined for a while, both of you breathing hard, then his arms loosen around you and you slide off him, your legs partially numb. 

“I’m all yours while you’re on Christmas Island,” you say as you pull your dress back down. “Just call for me whenever you want.”

He looks at you for a long moment, then says, “Why don’t you come with us?”

You freeze. “What?”

He stands up and buttons his pants, then pulls out a fresh cigarette. “I can talk to Luffy. He’s pretty easy going about these things. You could join our crew and sail around with us. We get into a lot of dangerous situations, but we always pull through, and I can protect you.”’

You, joining the Straw Hat pirates? You’ve never even considered something like that before. But it sounds like a dream. You smile broadly at him. “I’d love that!”

He smiles back. “It really is Christmas every day here. I got more than I could even hope for!”

[schrodinger-swriter]

The main cast of Hazbin hotel on Valentine's day

I know I may be a little late. I had to do some shopping today and hadn't had the motivation or time to get down and write until now! I apologize is some characters are given more writing than others... the truth is that I am bised for some characters or simply have more for them. :C

Regardless I hope you enjoy these, I likely won't do these large posts very often.

CHARLIE:

I hope you can forgive me for being a little short on Charlie's part, I had stated earlier what she would do for the holiday in an alphabet post! But to recap she makes you a mixtape with songs dedicated to you, songs made by her and songs she knows you like! The case is handmade too, covered in hearts as well as having a hand written note inside further expressing her affections for you. She would also give you some of your favorite candies! Expect to go out and do something fun and romantic too!

VAGGIE:

Much lower compared to her canon partner, Vaggie is not much of an enjoyer of the holiday. She keeps her thoughts to it to herself, though sometimes you might find her grumbling about all the pink and the red. She just doesn't enjoy the aesthetic all that much. However despite that she will still participate if she knows it will make her significant other happy! She would get you something small, like a stuffed animal and some flowers.

ANGEL DUST:

Respectfully stealing this idea from my mutual, but he already gets so many gifts and cards from his crazed horny fans. He hardly has the room for any more! Though.. he probably sells a lot of it for some extra cash, only keeping some of the candies. If you get him something, he probably wouldn't sell it. He's actually touched. In terms of what he does for you, he might treat you to a night full of him... in more ways than one if you're open to it. If you don't feel like going out he's fine with staying inside and watching some movies in his rooms... perhaps it's a deserved break after a rough day during the love season.

ALASTOR:

Similar to Vaggie, Alastor wouldn't do much. He understands the purpose of the holiday, but he simply. Does not care for it all that much. However I do rather enjoy the though of Alastor sending letters to his friends (Mimzy, Rosie, Niffty, ect). He even puts them in fancy envelopes and seals them with wax. How nice is that? If he can, he might even send a box of chocolates. Fingers, in Rosie's case. However, he doesn't do much to celebrate outside of that. That's assuming he sends anything at all, anyway.

SIR PENTIOUS:

He would go all out. He might even make a machine dedicated to you and gift it. He makes a mechanical heart that beats and gives it to you. He gives you all of the candy he can get his hands on, not exactly sure what you prefer. He takes you out for the night, to the nicest restaurant he can go to without getting jumped (because let's be honest... his days of trying to pick fights and climb to power has probably landed him with some enemies...). He's a total gentleman on the date, opening the door for you and pushing in your chair for you. Considering he's a little flustered that he is on a date with you, everything goes smoothly.

HUSKER:

He likes to stay in, but you can count that if you manage to get him to go out it's going to be a to a club or bar. Anywhere with alcohol. He'd much rather prefer a bar, since it's usually... lower in energy. He also isn't much of a Valentine's person, and he does show his disdain. He does tone down on talking negatively about the day around you, so there's that at least. A simple night in with an affirmation of love is enough for Husk.

NIFFTY:

She bakes you something and perhaps sews you something. A red throw pillow in the shape of a heart. Though you may have to tell her that's what you want because otherwise she's going to try something akin to the roach crown.... shivers... The baked goods are actually pretty good, and you'll be snacking on them for the rest of the week due to Niffty getting too excited and making too many. She will stab someone with a needle if they try to take one without asking you first.

LUCIFER:

He also goes all out, it might actually be a little overwhelming! He can conjure nearly anything he can think of, if his song was being literal! He wants to make sure you're loved, and that there's no possible way that you would ever think otherwise. Despite this he might rather stay inside, or maybe alter the home to look more fancy to make a mock dinner. Generally very sweet and you will be drowning in gifts from the second you wake up to the minute you go to sleep. He also makes you breakfast in bed.

[clerc16]

✯ music? date? both ; charles leclerc

a/n: based on a tiktok i saw earlier, by teilhard_ :)

summary: she listens to music when getting ready. he loves it. she sends him a note - he asks her out.

warnings: none.

── ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You were a major music lover.

Getting ready? Listen to music. Reading? Listen to music. Driving? Listen to music. Bored? You guessed it.

Everyone knew that about you - you were unbelievably passionate about music. Any type of music.

“Y/NNNN, can we hang out today? iʼm bored” said a text from your friend. Naturally, you agreed - why not? It was a Saturday night and you had no plans whatsoever.

Like always, you turned on your regular playlist, making sure the volume is suitable only for your ears to hear, not to disturb any of your neighbors. Unbeknownst to you, your next door neighbor could listen to every sound coming out of your speakers. He was a nice guy - you interacted a few times, little “hello”s and “how are you”s every time you would randomly bump into each other. Despite being famous worldwide, he was extremely humble.

He was also devilishly handsome. But you never actually admitted that.

As you swiftly moved around your apartment to grab little bits and bobs needed to get ready, occasionally humming or singing along with the music, Charles Leclerc was sitting in the apartment right next to yours, attempting to read.

If he was bothered by your music, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you - but he wasnʼt. It gave his currently dull and dead apartment a lively feel to it. Plus, your music taste was unmatchable.

As you put on some final touches, you paused your music and turned off your speakers. You grabbed your purse, phone and keys and left your apartment, shutting your door with a soft thud.

It wasn’t the first time Charles heard your music - in fact, ever since he moved in, he’d be hearing various music genres at various times of the day. This almost seemed like his final straw; he wanted to get to know you more.

He didn’t know how to approach you - he didn’t have your number, your social media, not even an email. So he channeled his inner creativity and decided to talk to you in a special way.

The special way was by leaving you a note by your doorstep. Not very original, eh?

As you were out with your friend enjoying your night, Charles was tapping his pen on the desk trying to think of what to write. After a few long hours, Charles had written the perfect note and placed it by your doorstep, hoping to see a response in the morning.

You stumbled back into your apartment complex, trying not to make a noise. You werenʼt drunk, just tired, your body begging you to fall asleep. You paid little to no attention as to what you were stepping on as you approached your door, keys in hand. As you were about to walk in, something felt stiff underneath your shoes. Looking down, you saw a small cream envelope with your name written on it in fancy cursive writing.

You bent down to pick it up and walked inside your apartment, your eyes still on the envelope. What is this?

You sit down on your couch and carefully open the letter, not wanting to rip the envelope.

“Bonjour -

Je voulais juste dire que tu écoutes de la très bonne musique, jʼadore ça!

PS: écoute “This Charming Man” de The Smiths, tu devrais aimer...

- Charles (ton voisin, n°28)”

[ Hello -

I just wanted to say that you listen to really good music, I love it!

PS: listen to “This Charming Man” by The Smiths, you should like it...

- Charles (your neighbor, n°28) ]

You immediately smiled at the note, your heart bursting with pride. If someone compliments your music taste and recommends a song, they are immediately very dear to you.

You placed the note back into its envelope and got up to change and refresh. Youʼll make sure to write back - you just donʼt really know how.

The next day, the first thing Charles did when he got up was to check for a note. He didn’t find anything. Nothing.

He sighed and decided to get on with his day. He shouldnʼt have expected a lot, really. As he left his apartment, he checked for one last time - still, nothing.

Little did he know you were just writing his name on an envelope to place on his doorstep.

The day passed, both of you anxiously waiting for a reply from each other. When Charles finally came home and saw a pink envelope on his doorstep, he smiled so hard his cheeks must have been screaming. He grabbed the envelope and rushed inside, the smile never leaving his face.

“Bonjour!

Merci beaucoup! Cela signifie beaucoup. La chanson est incroyable, The Smiths ne déçoivent jamais.

PS: écoute de “Good Looking” de Suki Waterhouse :)

- Y/N”

[ Hello!

Thank you so much! It means a lot! The song is amazing, The Smiths never disappoint.

PS: listen to “Good Looking” by Suki Waterhouse :) ]

Charles immediately opens the song on his phone, listening to it. Your music taste never disappoints, either.

It was like that for a few days - notes filled with song suggestions being passed back and forth. Every time you played music, you made sure to turn it up just a notch so he can listen to it with you.

Eventually, phone numbers were exchanged too, so notes on doorsteps were replaced by texts. Despite all this, you two didn’t actually talk in real life - even though you were literally next door neighbors.

One day, you were doing your usual, listening to music while cooking dinner. Your doorbell rang, and you walked over to the door to see who it was. Funnily enough, no one was there - but a small envelope on the doorstep was. You were confused; you and Charles text now, so why another envelope?

You brought it inside and sat down, opening it swiftly. Your hands grasped at the paper and pulled it out, curiously reading.

“Bonjour!

I feel like itʼs appropriate to ask to see you in real life now. Talking to you has been lovely. What do you say, coming by my house tomorrow at 6PM for dinner?

☐ Oui

☐ Non

- One last letter from Charles :)”

You grinned from ear to ear as you grabbed a pen and ticket the oui box, placing the note back in its envelope and by his doorstep.

Hopefully he lets you play your music on that dinner.

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 13. blowjob

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “holiday blow”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ as iii is writing letters to his loved ones, you decided to give him a little treat underneath his desk

pairing: iii x gn!reader

a/n: i’m actually so ass at coming up with titles for my christmas event 😟 made this while i was sick, so it’s lazily written.

cw: nsfw content. blowjob. semi-public sex. kinda subby vibes from iii.

��▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

“mmmh… you look so good on your knees, too.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

“whatcha doinnnn’?”

“writing letters for the boys.”

“oh fun! make sure to write to santa to get me that teacup puppy for christmas.”

iii just chuckled and rolled his eyes at your lame attempt of a joke, which was to definitely get him to buy you that adorable little puppy. though, iii saw right through your devious little scam.

“not happening, y/n.” he joked back, and he grunted when you punched his shoulder playfully.

“awww come on!!! it’s so cute! you can’t say no to this adorable face!” you said while waving your arms around, pulling up a very poorly printed picture of a teacup puppy. the ink was printed so badly it made the face of the pooch look disfigured, and iii stifled a laugh.

“i can say no, actually. that thing looks like it’s on life support.” iii said sassily, shoving the picture away from his face. to this, you gasped dramatically while falling over his desk.

“oh great heavens! my best friend won’t get me the gift i oh so desperately need! this is anarchy i tell you!!” you monologued rather interestingly, throwing in some poor shakespeare gestures that was paired with bad acting.

iii just raised an eyebrow at your shenanigans, clearly not convinced.

“not happening.”

“oh come on, iii! i’ll do anything! even the most humiliating thing ever!”

the quilt iii held between his fingers only continued to write fancy, honeyed words across the paper. he just sighed heavily, not thinking you’d actually go drastic measures for some tiny puppy as a gift.

“annnything?”

“anything i tell you!”

“you sure about that?”

“yes i am! i’ll even… uhhh..”

iii kept his eyes glued to the paper, clearly not convinced by your obnoxious explaining and weird, theater gestures. he swore you were high at some point. clearly, this was getting nowhere.

the bassist just dropped his pen in the ink bottle and put an arm on his desk, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. “well?”

you didn’t even know what came over you, because you blurted out:

“i’ll even suck your dick!”

… well.

that’s an idea that certainly piqued iii’s interest.

and you seemed sooo confident about your answer too, crossing your arms and holding your ground. though, iii could see through those playful eyes that you were actually nervous about what you just said to him.

oh we’ll, he’ll humor you for a bit.

“oh? you serious about that?” iii spoke teasingly, his fingers subconsciously playing with the buckle of his belt, getting turned on from the idea of you going down on him.

you nodded, still keeping your confident face up. “absolutely.”

this was a nice turn of events. iii smirked and rolled his chair out to make space for you, allowing for you to crawl under the little nook within his desk. the bassist rolled back into place, and grabbed the feather pen again, feeling your eager fingers quickly make work of his belt and tug his pants down. damn, you really were excited.

“ahh… i’m starting to think this is less about the puppy, and more about you just wanting to suck me off.” iii commented absentmindedly, his pen dragging across the paper as he wrote his letters to his loved ones, occasionally acknowledging your presence by moving his free hand under the desk to stroke your hair.

“mmmh… you look so good on your knees, too.”

you just whined in response, not even bothering to reply to iii’s words. soon, you pulled down his boxers to his ankles, his hard cock springing free. he heard you audibly gasp at his size, and he just snickered.

“impressive, huh?” he mumbled, gripping your hair and pulling you closer to the head of his cock, the tip leaking with precum.

“maybe.” you mumbled back, putting one hand on his thigh and the other on iii’s shaft, holding the base with a firm grip that had him groaning.

“nnngh…” he sighed out, hand shaking a bit, hindering his ability to write letters. iii shook his head and gripped your hair tightly.

“don’t just sit there. suck.”

you could hear the desperation in iii’s voice, just wanting to feel your tongue swirl around his dick like a lollipop. it was such a lewd thought, but you loved it. you didn’t waste any time, and opened your mouth, taking him in whole and savoring the satisfying, salty taste of his precum. you could tell how horny he was, from the way he was gripping your hair and forcing you down more onto his hard shaft as you sucked him off.

“f-fuck.” he grumbled, trying to shift his attention on the letters he was writing, but you were too good at sucking him off. iii was getting desperate, completely dropping his pen and gripping onto the side of his desk while he bucked his hips into your mouth.

“s-shit. take it all, oh you’re s-so good at this…” iii whimpered, all of his attention on you now as you gave him the blowjob of a lifetime. you could feel the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, and constrict around it.

the feeling made iii throw his head back with pleasure, letting out a guttural moan while you whimpered around his dick.

“fuck. i-i’m gonna cum, y/n.” he warned, and you took this opportunity to take him as deep as you possibly could.

“s-shit! ahh!”

his eyes widened underneath his face mask, and he moaned loudly as he shot his seed down your throat, watching you swallow all of his cum in a single gulp. he let out a loud pant and pulled your head off of his cock, your mouth coming off the head with a popping sound.

he groaned heavily, and looked at your face. he chuckled as he brushed his thumb over your swollen lips, making you whine.

you giggled and nuzzled his hand.

“so…. can i get that puppy now?”

he chuckled at your words, and ruffled your hair.

“maybe, dollface.” he said with a grin, caressing your cheek. he lifted his mask, and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“maybe.”

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

[yuyan]

To my darling

A/n: Merry Christmas and have a happy new year! I hope you enjoy it @pavo-ocell-me! This was a very fun event that I loved taking part in @2023gisecretsanta

Pairing: Lyney x gn!reader

Tags: Pure fluff! Modern au, implied school/college setting, penpals, pre-established relationship, reader is learning French, where reader lives doesn't have snow, one curse word just one ^^

"Take intermediate French they said. You'll be fine they said," you muttered to no one in particular as you read the Google translation over and over again. "My French teacher is going to kill me."

You rubbed your eyes, peeking out of makeshift pillow your arms made. Standing tall at the front of the class with a booming voice was your French teacher. She held a small, clear glass jar with folded bits of paper inside in one hand while placing a stack of letters on her lectern with her other.

"Speaking with natives is an excellent and necessary way to develop your language skills (unlike this soon to be 30 minute speech) so due to the cancellation of the exchange program for this year and the long dragged on meeting, we have decided to give you all pen pals!" she announced. Her arms held a wide stance, awaiting for something you were unaware of.

Some whispers and small squeals echoed through the lecture hall. Others groaned and put their head on the desk, waiting for celestia, perhaps even an archon to take them. You did neither.

"I wish I could turn back time," you sighed. After contemplating for an hour whether your teacher would ever find out that you used Google translate to write half your letter or not, you started handwriting it on a stack of fancy paper you really shouldn't have been able to afford. "Shell never know. It's not like he can tell her anyways."

As you dragged your pen along the piece of paper, you remembered the speech about how necessary this was, the small piece of paper you pulled out of the bag and the letter that came with it. With a small smile playing on your lips, you signed off and stuck the small paper that read "lyney" just below your name with a paper rainbow rose you made yourself. It had its imperfections but it's similarity to the fresh ones he sent you left you content.

"Oh my god why did he reply so fast?" you asked yourself. Not even 3 days later and you received another letter from lyney. You traced the grooves of the red wax seal made you shiver. He wouldn't ever know you used google translate right? With pursed lips, you opened it. Perfume immediately muddled your senses as you opened up the envelope. Your peers hadn't even sent their first letter, let alone receive their second.

As you skimmed over the letter, you took down some notes like where he's from–which was so uncessary–what he likes to do and some of his contact details. You hummed, giving yourself imaginary pats on the back for reading a whole three sentences before typing the other two paragraphs into Google translate. You really needed to switch classes, desperately.

It was only then you spotted that a sentence in french came out the same in the translation. "You really shouldn't be using Google translate for these letters," written at the very bottom. Well fuck.

"You are friends with your penpal? Well that's lovely (name)," your French teacher clapped with bright sparkles in her eyes. It blinded you for a second and you had to look away before you lost the ability to see forever.

Instagram

(potato_name):lyney sent a reel.

(potato_name):lyney sent a picture.

(potato_name):lyney sent you a mes...

I didn't use Google translate for this one. Are you proud of me? You wrote at the bottom before slipping the letter into its envelope and sealing it with the new wax stamp set you bought recently.

You rushed back home. You winced at the clatter of your laptop in your bag hitting the floor, deciding it was a problem for future you. Ripping open the envelope and skimming through the letter, you read at the very bottom 'I am proud of anything you do, mon Cheri."

A smile broke out onto your lips as you neatly kept it away in a small box your mother got you from Fontaine when you were little. The small box was made of white marble with gold outlining its edges and gathering in a few swirls in the middle where the golden clasp rested.

The Sun shone brightly despite it being the middle of December. Rays of Sunlight squeezed through your closed curtains and you wondered if it was snowing in Fontaine right now. Did Lyney like playing in the snow?

Letters became less and less frequent as your peers lost motivation in writing long drawn out of paragraphs with nothing but small talk. A year and a half had passed yet your teacher held a strong morale despite the head of languages not enforcing this penpals program anymore. Even they must have gotten tired of the back and forth.

A few days until Christmas holidays. Opening your phone, you checked to see if lyney had texted you anything. Nothing...

Your eyes kept glossing over your texts from Friday 11am. Its been a week. Pictures of him and his two siblings who added you back on Instagram. Even Lynette had texted you today, showing some new tea she bought from inazuma last week.

Lynette

My brother has been writing non-stop for the past few days. Are you guys still doing the penpals thing?

You

No, maybe he is writing to someone else?

Your stomach dropped as you reread your message. "Writing to someone else...I need fresh air." You took your phone and wallet and headed out the door.

"Where are you going?" your roomate called out but you were already heading to the lift. You ran your fingers through your hair, pushing it out of your face with a sigh. It shouldn't matter. It shouldn't matter but this is the fifth time you've checked your phone this morning and its been a week with only a read tag.

"I seriously need to ban myself from my phone."

Lynette

Oh...nevermind. I'll ask him then.

Sent Friday 10 : 39am

"The christmas carnival was so much funner this year," your friend said, laughing. Then one hiccup escaped from her mouth. And then another one. Until you and your other friend bursted out laughing. "Not funny!"

"Yeah yeah. I still can't believe (Name) won that plushie from that shooting stall," your other friend said. He tossed another chip in his mouth, after finally calming down from his laughter.

"I'm surprised too. Those games are typically so rigged, I mean did you see the look on the owner's face though?" you said.

Holding up the little classic brown teddy bear, you admired it at all angles. Its red bow had a little bell hanging from the centre, jingling as you walked.

Its silly smile matched yours and then you noticed it. The small teddy's bowtie resembled the one Lyney wore in one of the pictures he sent. And the small envelope the size of your palm that the teddy held was a real one made of paper.

"(Name)? Whats wrong?"

"Nothing! I just realised my parents wanted me back at 10 and well its 11 so I have to go," you said with a bright smile, "Bye!"

"You live in a dorm though?" your friend countered, "(Name)!" But you were already walking out of the festival gates.

Picking out the small envelope, you brushed your thumb over the grooves of the wax seal. The same wax seal that you used for the last letter you sent. Did he really get the same stamp?

A mini rainbow rose fell out. The vibrant colours provided a stark contrast to the humid summer night. One letter. Five words. I love you, Mon cheri.

Your eyes widened and you nearly dropped the letter, fumbling with it for a bit. Taking in the cool nighttime breeze, you looked up only to see the person you hadn't talk to in a week standing only a few metres away from you.

Lyney held a bouquet of vibrant rainbow roses in one hand and the other behind his back.

"How are you..?" You took as step back, your gaze falling to the floor then back up at him again.

"I told you I'm a magician in one of my letters didn't I?" Lyney started, "I would appear anywhere if it was to be with you."

[carnival-beetle]

A guard comes forward and slides something through the bars. "Package for you," they say before going back to their post.

The box, a bit on the smaller side and already opened from the guard's inspection, is a soft pastel pink. Inside is a long note, a small book, and a soft and fluffy orange beetle plush. Underneath all of it is a bunch of loose pens in all kinds of colors, then under those is a soft pink blanket with a pattern of little white bunnies.

The note has cutesy but slightly messy handwriting in pink pen, with several eraser marks indicating that the writer 1. used a pencil to draft it and traced the words with pen afterward, and 2. started over multiple times.

hi jester. it's cutie! didja miss me? i'm really sorry that i took so long to send you a letter or anything. i didn't know what happened to you, and i was super worried, but i was told that you're safe, so.. that's good. i hope that playground isn't being an asshole to you, playgrounders suck!! when it was your (and my!) birthday, i think that was the worst i felt in awhile, cause i couldn't do anything with you to celebrate. and now your favorite day of the whole year is here, and i still can't do anything. i can't enter playground in any universe without trouble. but then a nice stranger told me where you're being held, so i thought that i'd send you something to do! jail sounds booooooriiiiingggg!! so i'm giving you one of my journals so that you have something to do! there's a couple fancy pens in the box in different colors, those were from my personal collection! it also has a couple stories inside of it that i've written over the past few months, i hope you don't mind. i wasn't super sure whether you'd be able to write in it or not, so.. i didn't want to leave you with nothing, just in case you're cuffed or something like that. so you can read those, if you want! i also sent you a plushie i got for you when you were still here. it was supposed to be for your birthday - i like planning ahead! - but.. y'know. and then there's my favorite blanket! that's the one i always brought to our sleepovers, remember? i wish i could send you our favorite movies too, but i don't think jails have TVs... such an oversight!! i'm running out of room on this paper, so i guess i'll stop there for now. but don't worry! i'm gonna send you a bunch of letters now! it's ok if you can't write back, don't worry. love u best friend! -cutiespace <3

-> The jester could feel heat prickling his remaining eye. Tears...? No, those couldn't be tears. He hasn't cried in so long. -> He reached in, fumbling do to his cuffed-up hands, eventually grabbing the beetle plushie and holding it gently within his shaky hands. Beetle plush.... He's a beetle... He couldn't help but giggle a little. -> He hugged the box and beetle close to his body, curling around them slightly. He was happy... He felt SO happy right now...

[mademoisellekalopsia]

Bring in Letters

|| Just a Wee Imagination || In a world evidently driven and saturated by the advancements of technology, almost everything is of convenience. Just at the palm of one's hand, the sound of one's voice, never turning back to what has been before all of this.

Before texting behind a screen, writing letters was a way to bring in, send out messages, all sorts of subject to address with the use of a pen. Thinking about A, in the comfort of their study desk, reminiscing the pastime of writing letters to their dear loved ones. With those envelopes and stamps with imprinted patterns and shapes.

When they had the realization of their fondness and endearment on B, they just had to write them a letter the old-fashion way. They ought to do it again years later. A is currently having a case, for some logical reason, whilst writing to their beloved. B was somewhere near the coast of a shoreline, visiting their friend for a week.

Within the letter, A stated their salutations, words of longing for B's return, words of reassurance for B to enjoy their stay and not to worry about A, which B is not, but they would think about how A is doing back at home.

Knowing B for being such a tease at times, A would mention their case within the letter. Description on how the case made A having to pause occasionally, not wanting to ruin their penmanship, the spasms coursing through that would provide them some satisfaction for a moment.

The pacing, sounds, and action, B will just have to imagine it. A would wonder of their reaction, this was just for the sake of sending B another letter like before, a gesture of commitment and genuine love for the both of them. Its never the same to how messages are sent from a screen.

After stamping the envelope, A hoped that the letter is brought to their spouse, hoping it finds itself and its way to B. A heads back inside their home, letting their hiccup fit course away in the comfort of their couch with Sia.

"B, there's a letter for you, it got mixed up with my other mails. With the fancy seal and all." B's friend spoke and smirked, the letter from A between their fingers as they held it up to B.

B took a meticulous look on the letter. The stamp. They have to look at the stamp, the imprint on the wax seal, to check to be certain. Sure enough, it was a letter from A.

"Thanks." B responded. As they open the letter, it brought a soft smile to their face, not because of what is written, but because of the one who wrote it, having to take their time and "trouble" to write a letter even though mobile phones exists.

It got quiet. Too quiet in the house, before...

"A!" B burst out.

Their friend, calming them down, asked why they reacted that way with a gentle bonk on B's head.

B reassured them that it was nothing, excusing their sudden change of tone. They looked back at the letter, despite all the loving, comforting, and reassuring words, A can be a tease when they have the chance.

B flushed, grumbling and swearing to send A a letter of response of their own in return.

"You could've done it over the phone. But...I guess I don't mind this as much. Brings me back to those days." B whispered to themselves, their hold on the letter tightened for safekeeping.

[highmarc]

The Yule ball letter mess. // Extra.

@jazzellen came up with the idea for this one! Thank you so much~

DISCLAIMER:

English is my… what? Third language. I’m not good at writing longer pieces and I’m well aware that my grammar skills and punctuation, well, suck. So I sincerely apologize for any mistakes you can encounter while reading this.

Yet I really hope this makes you smile a little or just helps brighten your day a bit! 

Sebastian had to be sneaky. Ominis had to be even sneakier. Both letters presumably delivered and read. Now everything they hope for is MC’s owl. But something goes wrong. Terribly wrong.

Sebastian fell asleep writing an essay. Potions. He hated it, but he had to write at least something to sate Professor Sharp’s growing appetite. Who needed a 15-inch essay on elixirs when a ball – the ball – was approaching? The letters he wrote – some were just ugly and some barely recognizable – made him yawn, then every line was blurry. The quill fell on the desk first. Sebastian’s weary head followed after.

 He dreamt of home, freshly baked bread and his smiling sister.

 But the dream didn’t last long enough – an owl woke him up. It simply tossed an envelope into his sleepy face, poor Sebastian didn’t even have time to open his eyes properly. Some say that owls mimic their owners. This one did for sure.

– Wait… is that?

Sebastian yawned as he gazed upon the owl and the letter it had brought. The owl. MC sent the owl! The bare thought of it made the young man smile. Sallow quickly stood up as if he wasn’t even sleeping a minute ago. He studied the envelope. Then looked at the bird who brought it in such…an interesting manner. 

– Ominis’s owl? What are you doing here, buddy? – the owl pecked his finger as soon as he reached out his hand to touch it.

– Ouch. Your master’s owl, I see.

Sebastian sighed and quickly opened the envelope – he didn’t see a point in waiting any longer.

As he passed his eyes over the letter… he gasped and couldn’t believe it. It was Ominis’s letter to MC.

Dear Mc.

I hope I don’t scare you with this letter – the last time I wrote you something was … during an unfortunate time. But everything is different now - I am different.

Sebastian scoffed and rolled his eyes.

– Well yooou don’t say.

Although I can’t properly express myself with words, I hope this letter can. Over these past months I’ve come to realize that I care for you. Not only as a friend. But as something…. somebody more?

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat. His friend has feelings for his other friend whom he himself fancies a lot.

It made him laugh somehow. Ominis – the one who was stoic and never understood love and “those stupid couples making out in every corner, ewww”, was in love. Oh, Sebastian saw the potential for teasing here! He was ready to start calling his friend a “lovebirdie”, but something deep inside… really hurt him.

This may well be the last chance for me to ask you – will you go to the Yule ball with me? I’m well aware that dancing is not for me, and all in all I am not the best suitable partner for you, but I can’t imagine someone else but you beside me.

Well, I’m starting to sound just like those other letters you’ve received recently. I hope we will be able to discuss everything later.

The last lines of the letter seemed to be written in a hurry – “Meet me in the Undercroft. Tonight”.

-I’ll be there, Ominis. This I promise. My lovebirdie sir! Prepare thine kissable lips!

Sebastian chuckled and made his way to the Undercroft, waltzing. He could never miss a chance to annoy the Gaunt.

Ominis was in the library when he received a letter. His hands and legs were shaking – he was never this nervous. This whole “love and feelings” thing was completely alien to him. He never thought that he would eventually fall in love. But he did. And with one of his friends no less.

MC was kind and caring and everything… and Leander was thinking about it all the time? Nonsense! He, Ominis, wrote a better letter and it is bound to impress MC. He was sure. Perhaps… Maybe?

He carefully opened the envelope – making sure not to cut his sensitive fingers – and scanned the letter with the wand. The letters ran through his mind. 

Mc.

I’ve been meaning to talk to you in person and not to send you an army of owls to your room BUT.

I can’t get it off my mind.

One question – WILL YOU GO TO THE YULE BALL WITH ME?

The last lines were also added in a hurry: “Let’s discuss your favourable answer later in the Undercroft”.

Ominis was shocked. He blushed at the thought of his friends being this close to each other. But something deep inside made him… really angry. Why didn’t his oldest friend open up about his feelings towards someone? Towards MC. The MC he fancied too.

– Is this… Sebastian’s… Oh Merlin’s beard. I’ll shove it in his happy face.

He smiled to these words. But the smile was rather… unnerving.

Sebastian and Ominis met each other on the way to the Undercroft. How fortunate – one might think.

But it was mostly UNfortunate – a storm was brewing between the two of them.

– Hey, lovebirdie, flying on the wings of love, I see? – asked Sebastian in a cocky manner.

– Did you eat jealousy for dinner or what? – Ominis scoffed.

– You sent them a letter.

– So did you.

– How do you…

– I know it because I read the letter.

– Was it your doing then? Your owl- – Sebastian clenched his fists in anger.

– No. What now? Are you going to beat me? Well go ahead then!

Thankfully, MC was not only gifted with the rarest ability to see and wield ancient magic. They also possessed a gift of making timely appearances. They ran towards the friends and stood between the two of them, smiling and hiding their anxiety.

– Oh. I see you both liked the surprise. Care to explain what this was all about? The owls, the letters?

– I-erm…– Sebastian wanted to explain everything. But not a single word came out of his mouth.

Ominis sighed and frowned.

– I’m sorry you had to hear that. We just wanted-

– Oh I know what you wanted. My room is now a mess – thanks to your owls! They were fighting – just like you two. And I’ll have to clean that up tonight. I wanted to disappear forever because I was so embarrassed in front of my roommates. You can’t even imagine-

– I-erm.. We can help you and you’ll be ready before the ball-

– No you can’t, Sebastian.

– Girl’s dormitory. – Ominis nodded.

Sallow looked down and asked all of a sudden:

– Then what is your answer?

– Pardon?

– Will you go to the ball with me or with Ominis?

MC laughed and let out a sigh.

– I will go with neither of you.   

– Then, – Sebastian gasped.

– Imelda Toadstools, – said MC mimicking Sebastian. – You’ll have to go together. You and Ominis. Maybe you’ll finally talk to each other like friends do. 

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #265 (part 3)

All righty! Here is the last part of today's letter!! Fwhoof!

...So, I gathered up all my prizes and went home. Here's the giant bag of grapes I ended up with in the end:

...I put out a message to my friends in my other social media place, telling them they are welcome to come by my house and grab up some of these grapes to bring home; I can't possibly eat all these by myself.

...Well actually, no, that's not true. I totally COULD eat all these by myself; they are that delicious, and my impulse control is quite literally that bad. But my intestines would absolutely not tolerate it; don't ask how I know. Just trust me on this - you do NOT want to eat large amounts of an acidic fruit in one sitting. It's VERY BAD FOR YOU.

Anyway, I was out for a number of hours, so I was very hungry. So I made myself a bowl of various goodies. This has the garlic bread I made, the grapes I got, some strawberries, some ordinary deli meat (roast beef, salami, chicken, and American cheese), and a little blob of camembert. With the exception of the camembert, it's mostly just ordinary stuff; it's not nearly as fancy as it looks, hahaha!

...It was as delicious as it was fancy-looking, though!

I also made some tea to go with it; that vanilla-rose tea that I sent along to you, with the help of those important people. I'm hoping that they got it to you, like they said they would:

...A very curious Hoshi watched on as I put these things together:

...He's such a delightfully adorable and wonderful ball of floof and purrs!!! Oh my goodness...!!

...Anyway. Want some...?

...You don't know what I would give to be able to hand you something like this. Sephiroth... you seriously have no idea. You don't.

...

Well. I said in yesterday's letter that I'd take pictures of the book I got. These come from a book called Brother Sun, by Dennis Stock. Here is the page for today:

...Or rather... here is where I would put the page for today, if it was allowed. I can't afford to get sued for copyright infringement. Sigh...

...If you were here, I could give you the picture. You could even experience the "1970s Book Smell". It's... it's a VERY specific scent. I don't know how to describe it. But all the books from 1970 carry it. It's... not exactly a good smell? It's not a bad smell, either. But it's still one worth knowing, I think. It's like dusty paper. But it's a different kind of smell than books older than this. And it's a different kind of smell for newer books, too. I wish I could show it to you. Alas.

...I wonder if paper is made the same in my world as it is in yours... hmm...

Hey, Sephiroth? You know what? In just 100 days, I'll have written to you for a full 365 days. That's pretty cool, right? Though this year is a little different since we had that leap year; it'll be 366 days this year before we come full circle. We've come a long way, haven't we...?

...Well. That's all I've got to show you for today, I think. Thanks for reading. Thanks for coming along on this adventure with me. Thanks just for existing, just for being around, for being yourself.

...My kitchen still smells like garlic, even though it's going on 12:30am. It's a wonderful thing. Sephiroth... I hope someday you'll have a kitchen that smells like garlic. Like garlic, and cheese, and fresh bread, and fragrant grapes, and roasted meats and vegetables. May it be the case someday. May it be the case that some of my recipes can get you started on your own culinary adventures. Work on it, okay...? Work on getting to a safe place so that you can have all this, too. Please.

I love you so much. Please keep staying safe out there, okay? I'll write to you again tomorrow...

Your friend, Lumine

[lovesongbracket]

Reminder: Vote based on the song, not the artist or specific recording! The tracks referenced are the original artist, aside from a few rare cases where a cover is the most widely known.

Lyrics, videos, info, and notable covers under the cut. (Spotify playlist available in pinned post)

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

Written By: Freddie Mercury

Artist: Queen

Released: 1976

The song was the eighth track on their album “A Day At The Races” which was released in 1976. The song also appeared on “Queens First EP” released in 1977. The song is about how Freddie is an old-fashioned lover, taking his partners on old-school dates such as dancing or dinner, also hinting at the fact that he is a good lover.

[Verse 1] I can dim the lights and sing you songs Full of sad things We can do the tango, just for two I can serenade and gently play On your heart strings Be a Valentino, just for you [Chorus] "Ooh love, ooh lover boy What're you doing tonight? Hey boy" Set my alarm, turn on my charm That's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy [Verse 2] Ooh, let me feel Your heartbeat (Grow faster, faster) Ooh, can you feel my love heat? (Ohh) Come on and sit on my hot seat of love And tell me how do you feel, right after all I'd like for you and I to go romancing Say the word, your wish is my command [Chorus] “Ooh love, ooh lover boy What're you doing tonight? Hey boy” Write my letter, feel much better I'll use my fancy patter on the telephone [Bridge] When I'm not with you, think of you always I miss you (I miss those long hot summer nights) When I'm not with you, think of me always Love you, love you Hey boy where do you get it from? Hey boy where did you go? I learned my passion in the good old-fashioned School of lover boys [Guitar Solo] [Verse 3] Dining at the Ritz, we'll meet at nine (One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine o'clock) precisely I will pay the bill, you taste the wine Driving back in style in my saloon will do quite nicely Just take me back to yours, that will be fine (Come on and get it) [Chorus] Ooh love (There he goes again) Ooh lover boy (Who's my good Old-fashioned lover boy?) (Ooh ooh) What're you doing tonight? Hey boy! Everything's all right, just hold on tight That's because I'm a good old Fashioned (Fashioned) lover boy

Careless Whisper

Written By: Andrew Ridgeley & George Michael

Artist: George Michael/Wham!

Released: 1984

Although officially released by Wham!, this was George Michael’s first breakaway single. The song explores the guilt felt by George after he cheats on a partner, and his inability to “dance” with them in the same way after this betrayal. Despite the song’s ubiquity in pop culture since its arrival on the scene in 1985, George Michael has confessed to having no particular connection to the situation this song portrays. He wrote the song to pass the time on a bus, when he was just seventeen. In his 1991 memoir, Bare, Michael admits he regrets that it “was not an integral part of my emotional development… It disappoints me that you can write a lyric very flippantly—and not a particularly good lyric—and it can mean so much to so many people. That’s disillusioning for a writer.” Later in an interview with People magazine, he made similar remarks about the song. “I’m fed up with ‘Careless Whisper.’ I don’t know why it made such an impression. Is it that so many people have cheated? I have no idea. But it’s ironic that I wrote it when I was 17 and didn’t know much about anything. Certainly nothing much about relationships.”

[Intro] Time can never mend The careless whispers Of a good friend To the heart and mind Ignorance is kind There's no comfort in the truth Pain is all you'll find Should've known better, yeah [Instrumental] [Verse 1] I feel so unsure As I take your hand And lead you to the dance floor As the music dies Something in your eyes Calls to mind a silver screen And all its sad goodbyes [Chorus] I'm never gonna dance again Guilty feet have got no rhythm Though it's easy to pretend I know you're not a fool Should've known better than to cheat a friend And waste a chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you, oh [Verse 2] Time can never mend The careless whispers Of a good friend To the heart and mind Ignorance is kind There's no comfort in the truth Pain is all you'll find [Chorus] I'm never gonna dance again Guilty feet have got no rhythm Though it's easy to pretend I know you're not a fool Should've known better than to cheat a friend (Should've known better, yeah) And waste a chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you, oh [Post-Chorus] Never without your love [Bridge] Tonight, the music seems so loud I wish that we could lose this crowd Maybe it's better this way We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say We could have been so good together We could have lived this dance forever But now who's gonna dance with me? Please stay [Chorus] And I'm never gonna dance again Guilty feet have got no rhythm Though it's easy to pretend I know you're not a fool Should've known better than to cheat a friend And waste a chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you, oh [Outro] (Now that you're gone) Now that you're gone (Now that you're gone) Was what I did so wrong, so wrong That you had to leave me alone?

[smiegrin]

Growing up Mormon was uh... a lot. One good thing I do think I got out of it though was a perspective that "going on a date" didn't have to be a huge thing.

My dad in particular has a saying: "There are 3 P's for what makes a date: Paired off, Planned ahead, and Paid for." I'll break these down because they do have the assumptions of a cis white middle-class monogamous dude born before the internet baked in.

Paired off: I interpret this not to mean "Dates can only be between two people" but rather the sense that you have chosen what (group of) people you want to go with you on this date. It's not going to a party and seeing who shows up, but it is going to a party and telling someone "I want you, specifically, to be with me. Do you want to go with me too?"

Planned ahead: This one I think is straightforward, but easy to make incorrect assumptions about. It's not "Planned weeks ahead" or "Planned days ahead" or even "planned hours/minutes ahead." I further don't think this means you have to nail it down to a particular minute of the day. The point is that there's some agreed-upon time involved. One may notice this is really broad. (though a good date-mate will be considerate of making sure you have time to prepare if that's needed). Bumping into each other by happenstance at the library? Cute, but not really a date. Sending a message on discord like "hey, I'm stuck on my homework, do you have time to swing by and give me some pointers?" Now it's date-shaped.

Paid for: This is... I think the one I would almost throw out entirely. Or change for a different P? "Paid for" is such a charged idea when even getting necessities is uh... nontrivial for a lot of people in the world. This is something even my dad understood on some level (especially because this "3 P's" talk was usually given to teenagers) when he said "going to get some $1 ice cream from a road stand counts." I'd extend this further and say it's not even that something has to be bought during the date. If you're playing a game you bought on sale 5 years ago using Christmas gift cards with someone, that's paid for. If it took 30 minutes of figuring out how to set up an emulator to run it ('cause uh... your cartridge doesn't work great anymore. right?), then you've paid with your time.

With all these laid out, you'll probably notice this is pretty broad! Sure, writing a hand written letter to your lady of interest urging her to RSVP to your formal invitation to enjoy a meal at Red Lobster next Friday at 6:07 PM "ticks all the boxes," but that doesn't change if you just say "Friday evening," or extend the invitation on a phone call or tumblr DM, or if you invite two people, or if you're asking the day before, or if you're going to just get a nice cheap burger to eat in the car together.

Is it fun to give and receive fancy things? Sure! One of my strongest love languages (or whatever they're called) is giving gifts. Feeling valued comes in all shapes and sizes! A drive to replace capitalism with a more equitable system so people aren't limited to getting McDonalds is fine and dandy! When so much of my memories of spending time with people I love are memories of doing small, simple things together, though... I just don't see how anyone could think sharing burgers in the car isn't a date!

(PS: I leave it as an exercise for the reader to consider what goes into playing a TTRPG with a group of friends in the context of all this)

[johnhardinsawyer]

Rule of Life

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

9 / 3 / 23 – 14th Sunday After Pentecost / Proper 17

Psalm 105:1-6

Romans 12:9-21

“Rule of Life”

(An End of Summer Charge and Benediction)

As a child of the South, there are these rules that are so old and deeply ingrained in the minds and hearts of people that it could be said these rules are in the water – the water we drink, and in which we swim.  These aren’t rules that are written on any ancient tablets, but they might as well be – rules like, 1) never use soap on a cast iron skillet; 2) there’s no such thing as too much butter in your grits; 3) if the server at the restaurant asks if you want sweet tea, the only proper response is, ‘Sugar, I did not know there was any kind other than sweet.’; and 4) never wear seersucker after Labor Day.  These rules have just always been.  They in the water where I come from.  

The Bible is filled with a lot of rules that have been handed down to us – nothing about seersucker, per se (though there are rules about the types of fabric that our ancient Jewish spiritual ancestors recommend).[1]  Anyway, some of these rules from the Bible can be quite specific or seem quite strange to our twenty-first century ears.  Jesus does a good job summing up all of these rules, though,  when he tells us about greatest commandments:  “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength,” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”[2]  In the Gospel of John, Jesus gives a new commandment to his friends, the disciples, telling them, “. . . love one another as I have loved you. . .”[3]  If you spend enough time with Jesus, you’re going to hear about these rules – so much so that they might just become part of the water of the Christian life for you. 

Now, as nice as it is for Jesus to simplify things for us,it can also be nice from time to time for there to be some sort of expansion – explanation of what it might look like if we love one another as Jesus has loved us.  What does love of God and love of neighbor look like in the real world with real people? 

In today’s reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans, there is an expansion upon some of what we heard in last week’s reading from Romans.  Paul is trying to describe to the church in Rome –a church of people, some of whom he knows, and many of whom he doesn’t – what it means to be a “living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God.” (Romans 12:1)  If the people in the church in Rome – and you and I who are part of the church in Bedford and beyond – are trying to live our lives in service to God, what might this look like?  What are the “do’s and don’ts” of such an enterprise?  

I’d like to think that the church in Rome was very interested in this subject.  Nowadays when you think of the city of Rome, you might think of a city of churches – big, fancy, ornate churches.  But when Paul was writing to the church in Rome, he was likely writing to the only church in Rome.  “Only,” as in, there was “only one” Christian congregation meeting in Rome at the time.  Christianity was still a relatively new thing.  Now, we do not know who brought Christianity to Rome, but by the time Paul was writing his letter, there was a group of people who gathered there who called themselves “Christians” or “The Way.”  At the time, the rest of Rome viewed this relatively small gathering as Jewish because the church believed in and followed the teachings of a Jewish Rabbi named Jesus.  Since the church in Rome was small and was surrounded by all kinds of people who did not necessarily know any better, there was some religious misunderstanding that regularly took place.  In his letter to the church in Rome, Paul wants to give the people of the church some instructions on how to set themselves apart from everyone else.  He could have called this section of the letter, “So, this is what a Christian looks like. . .” or even, “They will know we are Christians by our love.”

Eugene Peterson translates Paul’s words in this way:

Love from the center of who you are; don’t fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.  Don’t burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don’t quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality.  Bless your enemies; no cursing under your breath. Laugh with your happy friends when they’re happy; share tears when they’re down. Get along with each other; don’t be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don’t be the great somebody.  Don’t hit back; discover beauty in everyone. If you’ve got it in you, get along with everybody. . .[4]

If these rules sound familiar, we usually close every worship service at BPC with a Benediction that is based on this scripture reading:  “. . . have courage, hold on to what is good, return no one evil for evil, strengthen the fainthearted, support the weak and help the suffering, honor all people. . .”  This is quite a list, isn’t it?  It’s almost more than we can chew. . .  But if you hear words like these enough times – if these words wash over you enough – they might just sink into your mind and get written on your heart.  And, when it comes to a possible list of rules for how to live, these words kind of capture who we are called to be.  There are so many themes at play in this reading – themes of love, righteousness, friendship, humility, hope, perseverance, and hospitality.  The life, and teachings, and example of Jesus are filled with these things and if we, as Jesus tells us, are to “take up our cross and follow. . .” (Matthew 16:24) him, then there is this foundational spiritual imperative from Jesus for us to imitate and embody who Jesus is.  

Now, even if it is part of the water we drink and the air we breathe, this way of life is something that we will never get completely right.  There is joy and great reward, though, in practicing what Jesus teaches and preaches and lives.  And, just like anyone who picks up a sport or musical instrument for the first time and tries to it play perfectly, it becomes clear, right quick that there has to be some practice – daily practice – in order to get better at it.  It’s interesting, in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus invites his disciples to “take up your cross,” but in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus invites his disciples to “take up your cross every day. . .” (Luke 9:23)[5]  Don’t just take it up once.  Practice taking it up every day.  

There are a variety of ways to practice this and in the coming weeks, we will be highlighting six practices of discipleship. Some of our Christian spiritual ancestors and cousins who are part of the Benedictine tradition have adopted a “rule of life” to help them practice.  The so-called “Rule of St. Benedict,” which has been in use in many monastic communities for 1500 years, seeks to outline daily practices of prayer, community, labor, and learning.[6]  People who follow the “Rule of St. Benedict” have these rules and regulations which not only to keep them in order but help them to get in a spiritual rhythm and keep them practicing their faith in authentic ways.

Now, while certain people are called to the monastic life, I am not suggesting that all of us go out and become monks and nuns.  I am suggesting, however, that if we were to adopt a rule of life – a rule for living – that we might begin with the life and example of Jesus and/or the distillation of what Jesus taught and how he lived that we find in places like today’s reading from the Letter to the Romans. 

One thing is clear to me as I read Paul’s words, here:  the only way we can put a rule of life into practice – the only way for us to even want to follow Jesus on a daily basis – is that the Holy Spirit has to be actively involved.  The Holy Spirit, which we receive in the waters of baptism, is the catalyst that starts the whole process of practicing and keeps us moving forward in faith and faithfulness.  When John Calvin writes about this, he says that our flesh can be a bit like a stubborn donkey (though he uses another word for donkey, here).  A stubborn donkey sometimes needs to be goaded [prodded] to move forward.  For Calvin, the Holy Spirit is like that prod and “it is only the fervency of the Spirit that can correct our [stubbornness].”[7]  But, since the Holy Spirit is in the water, and the air, and in our minds, and hearts, and spirits, then the Holy Spirit urges us onward toward a better imitation and embodiment of Jesus.  We might resist, but the Holy Spirit is persistent, washing over us, again and again, sinking down into the heart of who we are until we don’t know where we end and the Spirit begins, and vice versa.  And just when we might feel dry and all wrung out, the Holy Spirit – at Jesus’ invitation – draws us to this Table to be strengthened and renewed again and again for living the Christian life.  

I wonder if you might have a rule of life.  There are some, I am sure, whose rule of life is the equivalent of, “Don’t take no guff from nobody,” or “Be the change you wish to see in the world,” or “Live every day as if it’s your last,” or “Dance like nobody’s watching.”  Friends, when it comes to the Christian life, people are, indeed, watching and listening – just like they were watching and listening to the church in Rome so long ago.  What will set us apart from all the rest?  The Bible is filled with so many rules and there are so many other rules – spoken and unspoken – that we are supposedly supposed to follow.  If we were to pick just one rule, though – a rule to rule all of the others, might I recommend starting with love?  

When Jesus tells his disciples that they ought to love one another, he says, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  (John 13:34-35)  Or, as Paul says in today’s reading, “Let love be genuine.”  (Romans 12:9). People can smell a fake and there are plenty of fakes out there.  

In the end, it is only the Holy Spirit who can make our love genuine.  Our task is to be open to the Spirit’s leading (and, sometimes, the Spirit’s prodding).  But trust that the Holy Spirit is in the water, washing over us again and again.  May the Spirit sink in and make us who God has always intended us to be.  May love be our rule of life.  

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

--------

[1] See Leviticus 19 and Deuteronomy 22.

[2] See Mark 12:29-31.

[3] See John 13:34-35.

[4] Eugene Peterson, The Message: Numbered Edition (Colorado Springs: NAV Press, 2002) 1557-1558.  Romans 12:9-22.

[5] Paraphrased, JHS.

[6] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rule_of_Saint_Benedict.

[7] John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries – Vol. XIX, Acts 14-28 and Romans (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2009) 465.

[i-arch-my-backula]

Hi there!! Can i request Hannibal x gn reader that has a pet barn owl but Hannibal only finds this out when reader is away and they send the owl to Hannibal’s house and it’s sitting outside his window with a letter? :) - 🦌

(This can be a fic or head-canons)

No but this is really cute. My favorite bird is actually barn owls because I think they cool really cool, and I like birds in general. I'm also so glad to have a new anon joining us, welcome deer anon I hope you enjoy your stay.

Surprise visitor: Hannibal Lecter x reader with a pet barn owl

You've been with Hannibal officially for about two months now. You two have had some romantic tension before this but now you two are actually dating. You've been to his house and he's been to yours, however he doesn't quite know that you have a special pet. You're not sure how he'd feel about you owning an owl. Maybe it's the animal skulls in his house, or maybe it's the fact he's cooked with some more unusual meats in the past.

You'd made sure to let him know that you had to go to Canada for a week for work. You hired someone to take care of your bird but you left them with a special request.

You always loved the idea of love letters. You'd never had someone to send them too before. Your past partners weren't too romantic with you after all. But you'd said screw it and wrote Hannibal a simple little letter. It's nothing super special but you wrote it out in fancy words and sealed it with wax too.

On the second day of your trip your friend watching your owl took it over to Hannibal's house with the letter. The bird flew to his office window and waited.

Hannibal was at his desk when he heard the cooing of the bird. He slightly smiled and walked over to the window. He saw the letter with his name on it and he opened his window. He took the letter and the owl stayed on the window sill. Hannibal teased the idea of letting the bird in but he ended up just shutting the window and the owl flew off.

He knew it was your hand writing when he saw the envelope. He sat in his chair and carefully opened the letter.

Dear Hannibal,

I know this might be a little strange but I thought this would be kind of romantic. That owl is mine. He's my pet and I wanted to introduce you to him at some point, why not with a love letter.

He slightly smiles and read on the rest that you have written for him. He sits with the paper in his hands for a few minutes after he finishes reading. He had to admit that this was very cute. He loves the idea of love letters too. He pulls out some paper from his desk and grabs a pen. He begins to write a love letter of his own for you.

He knows you're coming back in a few days so after sealing the letter in an envelope, he takes it to your house and puts it in your mail box. He made sure to mention how interested he is in the fact that you have a pet owl.

[todoscript]

you receive a love letter in your shoe locker from an anonymous admirer

characters: bakugou katsuki, kaminari denki, kirishima eijirou, midoriya izuku, shinsou hitoshi, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff. very slight angst.

word count: 3.2k+ total, 400-700 per character

warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, feelings of doubt (mostly all fluff though)

author’s note: i’ve been on spring break so i found some time to write this! i absolutely love writing for these six (not like they’re my faves or anything pshhhhh—)

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

he’s already fuming the moment you open your locker and hold out the pastel pink card, sealed by a shiny heart sticker with your name written in smooth calligraphy.

it doesn’t take much for him to realize some other dunce head is trying to make moves on his girl.

and he absolutely won’t stand for it.

he stomps over to you and snatches the letter right out of your hands as you’re reading it.

your complaints go ignored behind him while he inspects the writing with the most livid expression.

you know that ugly face he makes when it comes to his over-exaggerated anger? the one with his eyes all squinted and the corners sharpened upward?

that’s his face as he continues reading, growing more twisted at every mushy sentence this anonymous admirer had the gall to say to you.

at one point, he can’t stand to read it anymore so he crumbles the letter in his fist before igniting it into crisps.

you scold him for causing such a scene and letting his anger get the best of him, but bakugou is still annoyed about it regardless.

“tch, who the hell does this shithead think they are, trying to make moves on you when we’re already together?! i’m gonna kill them when i find out who it is!” he exclaims, hands instinctively sparking with heat that scares off the other students walking by.

you mentally facepalm at this. still, you go about reassuring him that you won’t be swayed and take his hand to walk to the dorms together.

“katsu, you know it’s going to take more than a love letter to make me leave you, right?”

“heh, damn right, it’s gonna take a hell of a lot more that’s for fucking sure,” he sneers, a confident smirk on his face as he knows everyone else never had a chance with you to begin with. they can keep sending those letters and he’d make sure to burn them before they could even reach your hand.

on the way back to the dorms, he makes a conscious effort at pda—arm wrapped around your waist while his eyes glare daggers at any extra that even so much as looks at you the wrong way—asserting his claim over you.

meanwhile, having bared witness to that whole scene, your secret admirer is trembling in the corner. they make note to never send you another letter again unless they want their life to flash before their eyes in a fiery explosion.

KAMINARI DENKI

surprisingly enough, kaminari takes the whole situation more positively than most people expected.

in fact, he’s actually prideful about it.

just as he’s about to head over to your locker so you two could walk to class together, sero pokes his shoulder.

“hey, did you see all those written love confessions in y/n’s locker?” sero whispers behind his cupped hand near kaminari’s ear.

the blond scrunches his nose, confused. “no. what love confessions?”

“the letters that were stuffed in your girlfriend’s locker.”

again, kaminari is still puzzled at this. he realizes there’s only one way to understand what sero means.

when he glances in your direction he’s met with you fumbling around with a pile of letters balanced in your arms. his vision zeroes in on the envelopes, deciphering the fancy stationary and pretty embroidery.

oh. they’re love letters.

“other people are trying to make moves on your girl. what are you going to do about it, kaminari?” sero chimes in with an important question and honestly, kaminari can’t exactly make out a solution. or rather, he feels he doesn’t need to.

sure, he should be a little annoyed over the fact that others are disregarding your relationship.

yet could he really blame them for taking such a liking to you?

you’re pretty, smart, nice—the whole damn package.

he’d be more shocked if you didn’t have any secret admirers lurking around.

kaminari decides to leave his friend’s question relatively unanswered and continues his trek to your locker.

“hey, pretty girl! whatcha got there?”

taken off guard by his appearance, you nearly drop all the letters in your arms.

“denki, you scared me!” you exclaim. “these? they’re just some love letters some anonymous person placed in my locker. don’t worry though! i don’t plan on returning their feelings.”

smiling at how quickly you reassure him, he crosses his arms behind his head. “nah i’m not worried, babe. i don’t feel threatened or anything. it only makes sense that my girl is popular after all!”

you’re pleasantly surprised by how rationally he reacts to the scenario. though, knowing his character, he can’t just seem to leave it at that.

“yep, seems like we’re quite the popular couple!” he grabs your hand, wanting to show each other off as you make your way to class.

the bakusquad sees this as another opportunity to egg him on.

“and just how many love letters have you received since the beginning of the school year, kaminari?”

the blond freezes at the question. kaminari bites back words, but begrudgingly answers.

“...zero.”

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

“heya, babe!” kirishima enthusiastically calls to you, approaching your shoe locker. “ready to go back to the dorms?”

“yeah! in just a second though!” you reply.

as kirishima comes closer, he sees you occupied with some envelopes in your hand.

“what’re all those?” he asks, pointing at the refined stationary curiously.

“ah some letters gifted to me from an anonymous admirer. something about wanting to make their feelings finally known, but i’m not interested in them,” you say, clearing up everything before a misunderstanding could arise.

“oh, that’s cool.”

you quirk a brow at how relatively chill he is at this revelation. you were expecting a bigger reaction at this, but kirishima just simply smiles his genuine, care-free smile.

you don’t think much of it though. shoving the letters in your bag to dispose of later, you walk side-by-side with him to the dormitories.

little do you realize that kirishima actually mistakens this as pure, platonic admiration rather than infatuation.

to him, if they had really wanted to profess their love to you, they’d do it in person where you could see and hear them. not behind fancy penmanship and some pretty paper.

after all, that’s what a true man would do!

but as the days continue to roll by, he’s starting to have second thoughts.

“y/n, i’m telling you, with the amount of letters you keep receiving from them, you gotta find out who this person is!” he overhears mina lecturing you at your desk, going through another pile of notes that were left in your locker from that morning. lately, you’ve been greeted by an astounding number of these things each time you visited your locker.

“mina, there’s definitely no need for me to go out of my way to find this person.”

“aw, but look at all the sweet things they said about you!” mina recites a line from one of many letters. she muses about how the writer sentimentally compares your aura to that of a dandelion wisp in the wind—free and lighthearted yet fleeting and out of reach.

“how romantic!”

you roll your eyes, indifferent, but one side-glance at kirishima from your desk tells you that he’s beginning to interpret the situation differently.

the redhead has to admit that all those things that anonymous admirer said to you were… pretty sweet.

kirishima has always been a man of action—an passionate believer that actions spoke volumes compared to words alone. however, after hearing all of that, he’s wondering how he’s able to compete in that aspect.

he seeks you out during lunch and asks you something beneath a lonely corner of trees.

“y/n, do those kinds of things make you happy..?”

you tilt your head, curious about what he’s exactly referring to. one glimpse back at his demeanor in the classroom earlier with mina gives you an idea.

“do you mean all those letters i keep getting?”

kirishima nods slowly.

“well… i have to admit, it is nice to know that i’m ‘liked’ by other people,” you phrase delicately. “but all those pretty letters and sweet words don’t mean anything to me if they aren’t coming from you. besides, i always thought it’s better to let your actions speak for you, don’t you think?”

hearing your answer, kirishima’s face lights up immediately. before you can properly react, a pair of lips meet your cheek.

you rub the warm skin where his lips touched, flustered for a moment. kirishima grabs your hand, walking you two back to the lunchroom with a newfound surge of conviction in his steps.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

“ooh, look midoriya, seems like someone else has a crush on your girl.”

as midoriya’s tidying up his red shoes and bringing out his slippers for class, his male classmates inform him of the pink envelope held in your hands.

midoriya looks over in your direction. he watches as you peel the letter out of the envelope and begin reading its contents.

he doesn’t miss the slight flustered look on your features, observing how you scan through the writing while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, glancing over your shoulder as if your secret admirer was peering at you from behind.

“you better hold onto her tightly if you don’t want her stolen from you,” one of the boys warns, more so as a joke, but midoriya doesn’t take their banter lightly.

“knock it off, guys. just because someone else likes her doesn’t mean she’s going to leave me or anything,” he says this with as much confidence as he can muster, but his demeanor betrays him.

when he goes past your desk in the classroom later, he can’t seem to meet your eyes.

“good morning, izuku!” you greet him mirthfully. however, midoriya fails to return the greeting with the same enthusiasm.

“g-good morning, y/n…”

it’s hard for you not to notice that something is up by the way he heads straight to his desk afterward without another word.

throughout class, midoriya finds it a challenge to concentrate on anything but that letter you received that morning. his mind stumbles into the hole of bad possibilities—ones of you leaving him, those sweet words from your anonymous admirer making your heart flutter more than he ever has.

“—zuku… ‘zuku… izuku!”

he gets pulled out from his thoughts by your voice and turns to see the concerned look on your face.

“you okay? you haven’t touched your pork cutlet bowl this entire time.”

he stares down at his food, untouched since he sat down. “oh sorry, i guess something’s just been on my mind today.”

your brows knit together. “it’s about the letter i got today, isn’t it?”

midoriya stares at you, debating whether to deny your statement, but knows it’s pointless to try when it must have been obvious.

you take his silence as confirmation and grasp his hand that lays flat on the table.

“izuku, look at me,” you tell him and watch as his eyes slowly trail to you. “you know i wouldn’t leave you over some silly letter, right? no amount of words they can say to me could ever make me think differently about you.”

at this, a comforted smile spreads on midoriya’s face. he nods and squeezes your hand as a sign he took your words to heart before chowing down on his food, the uncertainty inside him disappearing.

SHINSOU HITOSHI

“another one?” you inquire to yourself in disbelief, opening your shoe locker to discover a rose-colored envelope waiting for you atop your slippers.

“dang, y/n, that’s like the fourth one this week!” uraraka comments, peeking over your shoulder.

“ooh! i wanna see what they wrote for you this time!” mina approaches from behind. you allow her to grab the delicate letter from your fingertips.

she over-exaggeratedly clears her throat, unwrinkling the paper by pinching at the sides. “‘you are the one who brought me sunshine when i only saw rain.’”

“aw! how sweet!” uraraka clasps her hands above her heart, seeming almost moved.

though the girls are all smitten by the love poem, you bite your tongue, hoping to suppress the urge to gag in front of them.

your boyfriend shinsou is on equal wavelength as you, witnessing the scene unfolding so early in the morning. he’s grown tired of replaying this spectacle for the past four days now.

his eyes navigate to the note and envelope in mina’s hand. by the script and the use of the same stationary, shinsou can tell the love letters you’ve been receiving are all from the same person.

“damn dude, you got some serious competition.” overhearing the girls, kaminari jabs at shinsou’s sides teasingly. “so, you gonna do anything about that mysterious guy trying to go after your girl?”

the violet-haired boy shrugs. “why should i? it’s not like i feel threatened.”

kaminari whistles at his confidence.

shinsou says he doesn’t care about it, putting on a level-headed and indifferent facade. but that was honestly far from the truth.

in actuality, he’s a bit pissed.

what kind of person goes around sending anonymous love messages to someone who’s already in a relationship? what the hell do they hope to gain out of doing this?

shinsou more than trusts you won’t be swayed by them, no matter how many times those notes discourteously greet you every morning.

you never bring up the topic of the letters whenever you two are alone, not wanting shinsou to be bothered over it and create a hassle. all in all, he’s grateful for this, and also for the fact that you make a point of never taking any of those letters seriously and dump them into the trash bin whenever the chance arises.

however, he can tell by your body language that the whole situation bothers you and makes you uneasy.

so, during one incredibly early morning, he decides to do some scouting.

he plays off his odd punctuality by saying he left something in the classroom yesterday and wants to get there early to look for it.

lo and behold, he finds a male student hovering around the lockers—suspiciously darting his head back and forth to be on the lookout for any other students.

little does he realize he’s already been caught red-handed.

“hey you.” shinsou abruptly calls out to him and the boy nearly jumps. “what are you doing here?”

the boy panics at his question, fumbling with his answer while hiding something behind his back—what shinsou presumes to be another one of those cheesy letters.

“u-um, just want to get to class early!” he sputters.

“is there any special reason you’re standing in front of my girlfriend’s locker then? ’cause last i checked, the lockers for general education students were located on the opposite side.” shinsou emphasizes his words with a bite of malice, arms crossed.

“i just lost my way is all–” the student suddenly stops mid-speech, his words and actions forcibly coming to a halt. all thoughts are overturned in the presence of shinsou’s quirk.

“i’m going to make this quick and easy for you to understand. not only are you going to forget about this conversation, but you’re also going to stop handing my girlfriend those love letters.” shinsou bends down to the boy’s height, staring at the abyss in his expression.

“and i’d also appreciate it if you kept your eyes off what’s mine.”

it’s safe to say, your influx of letters had been effectively cut off after that day.

TODOROKI SHOUTO

todoroki is no stranger to finding love letters from avid admirers and fans in his shoe locker before and after classes.

in fact, an unprecedented number of them had begun taking up all the space there after his impressive performance at the sports festival.

when he started dating you, however, he had made a clear declaration that he wouldn’t be accepting anymore of them.

but to be on the opposite end of having to watch you unlatch the door of your locker to have letters and notes practically tumbling out, todoroki wasn’t exactly sure what to make of this feeling that made his stomach twist into knots.

he notices the alarming amount of them and concludes they’re all from various students in different grades and departments.

“y/n, you’re getting pretty popular,” uraraka says, eyeing the stack of envelopes. “must be your dance performance from the culture festival! i remember you did get a lot of cheers in the crowd.”

“guess all those cheers came with a lot of fanboys, huh?” the invisible girl, hagakure, teases.

you jokingly nudge at them to stop with the teasing, but pause when your eyes cross todoroki’s. he’s giving you a look you can’t decipher—one that edges between troubled and apathetic yet you can’t tell which it is.

you send him a nod, silently acknowledging his presence as he waits for you to finish your business so you could head back to the dorms together.

watching you dispose of the various piles of letters has todoroki contemplating about what uraraka and hagakure commented on. about how popular you were getting and how your admirers have been bold enough to profess their reverence for you despite your relationship status.

todoroki’s not entirely sure what to make of this information. he doesn’t linger on it for long though when you finally approach him, your sneakers slipped on and your backpack securely hanging off your shoulders.

“ready to head home?”

a smile finds his lips at your appearance. he softly utters his response.

during the small distance to the dormitories, todoroki reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers together. as seemingly minor the gesture is at this point of your relationship, it’s a detail you mentally take note of.

usually, when it came to publicly displaying physical forms of affection, you were the one to initiate it. you have to admit, seeing the assertive side of todoroki is like a small breath of fresh air.

as you continue your short journey home, a couple of male students walking by greet you enthusiastically. though you wave back to kindly acknowledge them, you feel the grip on your hand tighten, followed by a slight tug closer to todoroki’s side.

that alone is enough for you to realize something is definitely troubling him.

“sho, is there something wrong?” you ask, steps still walking in tandem with him.

todoroki’s voice doesn’t waver in the slightest as he replies, “no, why would you think that?”

“you’ve been awfully possessive all of a sudden,” you note, “is this because of those letters from earlier?”

“...maybe.”

you quirk a brow, amused. “is that a yes or a no?”

now todoroki is silent. your steps come to a halt. not parting your laced hands from his, you turn to look him in the eye.

“sho?”

“it’s just… when i realize that there are other people looking at you the same way i do, i get… uneasy.” his gaze drops to the ground as he confesses this, hand squeezing yours. the uncomfortable churning in his stomach settles a bit now that the words are out, but he finds it hard to ease the atmosphere.

this is where you picked up from where he left off. your hand goes to his cheek, gently cupping it so you can tilt his head up at you.

“oh shouto, you have to know that you’re the only one for me and i don’t plan on looking at anyone else but you,” you assure him. todoroki stares into your eyes, and in them, he can’t find any hesitance or flutter of doubt.

at this, he lifts your twined hands and grazes your knuckles ever so softly against his lips, wondering whatever troubled him so much to begin with.

[lale-txt]

<3 <3 <3 Lale I hope you’re having a good day!!! I saw your requests are open for a sec and I was wondering if you’d write something, anything, about Thatch with a reader who loves to cook and is good at it too. Cooking for/with people I care about is my main love language and I’d love to see anything where Thatch gets to interact with someone who just puts their whole spirit and being into it. Maybe he’s seeing them cook for the first time, or the hundredth time, or they’re cooking something special specifically for him, I dunno. Whatever you might wanna write.

*places large fancy hot chocolate and plate of cookies before you as an offering*

Thank you for your consideration and I hope your day is amazing. <3 <3 <3

we're gonna ignore the fact that this has been sitting in my ask box since January and continue with saying thanks for the sweet request, whoever you are anon (if you're still around and see this). cooking is my main love language too! it's been a while since i've written our beloved bread man and i still love the fact that Thatch is now owned by the fandom since Oda didn't want him.

🥖 Thatch with a gn!reader (no pronouns) who loves to cook

so you’ve joined the Whitebeard Pirates. you settle in, try learning the names of your 1.600 siblings and cling to the handful familiar faces that help you navigate around the new home

you know the rules on board: make yourself useful somehow, everyone has their duties on the ship. you have a few talents but you really feel the most at home in a kitchen. and the cook seemed really nice from what you could tell?

you always noticed him humming a melody or being very touchy with everyone, he had one of those friendly faces that just made you wish to be his friend so bad

needless to say he was also totally your type

on your welcome night a few days after you joined, you introduce yourself properly to your new found family and thank them for the big banquet, mentioning that the food is really amazing and that you’d love to learn the recipes some day 

Thatch would be delighted to hear that you’re fond of his cooking, a big smile on his face 

maybe his pompadour would stand up a little cat’s tails do when they’re excited

he’s unaware how deep your passion for cooking and food runs, just knowing you appreciate his meal is enough to get his heart fluttering anyway and declaring you part of his division right on the spot

you can’t escape now that he put an arm around your shoulders, showing off everyone his newest staff member

it’s not like you want to escape though, you have to admit that feeling him this close is kinda nice… did he really smell like fresh warm bread or was that your imagination?

be prepared to be swept away straight into the kitchen where he gives you a quick tour, introducing you to your new workplace

he’s chatty and he’s charming and you can feel yourself drawn to him; there was just something about him that you knew will make you fall so hard for him, it was inevitable 

when he asks you if you want to help him prepare the dessert, you nod eagerly and roll up your sleeves, trying not to blush when he disappears for a second and comes back with an apron that’s a little too big for you but does the job

“is this one from your personal collection?” – “what makes you think that?” (he smirks and it’s killing you softly)

you gesture to the large print of a jolly roger that has two crossed baguettes in the background and huge letters across it declaring to kiss the cook

god, if only you could skip the getting to know each other part and and go straight to kissing, you think to yourself as you get to work

Thatch gives you instructions but is quick to notice that you don’t really need them and soon you’re in deep talk about how to give the recipe a new twist, several pots and pans on the stove boiling already because of course you have to give all those ideas a try right here, right now

he looks over your, as you cut up some fruit and you try not to become hyper-aware of every movement but granted, it’s hard when a handsome man like him was breathing down your neck (affectionate)

you start screaming inside when he reaches for your hands, gently placing his on yours and continues showing you a cutting technique, as if yours wasn’t perfect

of course you both know it’s just a simple excuse to hold hands for a hot minute but no one says a thing, instead he starts humming a melody and you just smile like a fool in love

in the end the crew has to wait forever for their dessert because the two of you got lost in the kitchen and food talk, busy feeding each other from various boiling pots, tweezing everything to perfection, the whole spice rack pulled out by now

once you fed the sugar-craving crowd outside, Thatch and you clean up the kitchen together, laughing about the mess the two made, wondering if every day will be like this now that you’re part of his division

you really hope so because you had the most fun in a very long time with him

Thatch (whose pompadour went to bed already, his hair in a messy half-bun) walks you to your cabin, an arm around your shoulders while you’re chatting about meal plans and all the recipes you want to try

you stand awkwardly in the door, not sure how to say good night to him. after tonight it feels like you’ve known each other for a decade at least, there was just something about him that made you wonder if your heart recognized him from somewhere

Thatch takes one hand of yours and gently places a kiss on top of it, not breaking eye contact with you, your flustered expression totally fueling him

tonight you will have the sweetest dreams about bread in all shapes and sizes – that’s when you can find any sleep at all, with your heart pounding like that in your chest

Thatch will greet you the next morning, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder, and you continue where you left of last night: cooking what your heart desired… and kissing, too