Tuesday's post may require postage for that letter!

[squidgiepdx]

Hello, everyone. I’m squidgiepdx and today's theme is Postage, Please! Prompts can be anything that has to do with getting or receiving a letter, business or professional - or even just a note or an email communication. Maybe someone unexpectedly gets a "Dear John" letter, or maybe you'd like to write an epistolic fic between two characters. Whatever you'd like - if it has to do with written communication (paper or electronic), then let's type it up and go!

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above mentioned spoiler cut.

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ due South, Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski, Post CotW, Ray and Fraser are living in Canada, and it's a chore to have to go get the mail.
+ Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, Rodney leaves little notes around their quarters when he knows he's going to be busy with work.
+ Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams, Steve gets a letter from someone in Danny's family - what could it be?

We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2016 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out the just created Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.

While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.


tag=letters

Comments

[squidgiepdx]

due South, Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski, Post CotW, Ray and Fraser are living in Canada, and it's a chore to have to go get the mail.

Filled (my own prompt)! Fraser/RayK, The Weekly Mail Run

[squidgiepdx]

Benton calls out, "Yahh!" as he gently steers the team of huskies over the crest of the hill, and then towards the cabin glowing like a beacon in the distance. Knowing that home is in sight, he can feel the dogs pulling ever so much faster, and reaches up to push away the fresh snow that is accumulating on his goggles. It's just another ten minutes to the cabin, though when he finally pulls the sled up to the barn, he knows that he's got a few more minutes worth of work to do before he can get inside and enjoy the warmth.

With most of the dogs settled into their kennels, watered, and fed, Benton returns to his sleigh where he grabs the bundle of mail. He puts it under one arm and then heads towards the cabin, calling, "Pearson. Come!" a young, strong pup that looks strikingly like his father coming to his side. "Good boy," he says, reaching down and scratching at Pearson's muzzle, getting a happy whuffle in response.

"I know. It was a good run this morning," he says, and then walks out into the snow, Pearson darting through the door as he closes it. Glancing up at the sky, Benton notes another winter storm further off in the distance, much stronger than the one currently supplying them with light flurries. The cloud color and the feel of humidity in the air tells him that they were in for at least ten inches of new snow overnight, possibly up to twelve, giving him all the more reason to hunker down for a few days.

Benton grabs the cabin's doorhandle and opens it, Pearson skittering between his legs to get into the warmth of the cabin and almost sending him teetering into the snow. Reclaiming his balance, he walks in just in time to hear, "Oh my god, you mangy mutt! I'm gonna kill you!"

"Now, now, Ray," Benton says as he tosses his gloves to the side. He removes his balaclava, then jacket and hangs them up to dry on a hook by the door, then leans his head into the room. "I think Diefenbaker would have words with you if you did anything to his offspring."

"Dief?" Ray says. "Please... I can buy him off with a donut," he adds, though Diefenbaker responds with a nonchalant yawn of his own before nudging Ray's hand. "Yeah, whatever old man," Ray says as he goes back to scratching at Dief's thick fur.

Stomping his boots, Benton removes them and then finally leaves the safety of the mudroom to enter the main room of the cabin. "Would you like a towel, Ray?" he asks.

"Naah... He didn't get me that much." Ray looks up from the book he's reading, seeing the package of parcels that Benton is carrying. "Anything good?"

Benton goes through the mail, separating the letters from the junk mail, and finally holds up a small box. "There's something here from your mother," he says.

Before Ray can even respond, Diefenbaker is sitting up at attention. "Oh god," Ray says. "I bet she sent cookies again."

Sniffing the box, then darting his tongue out to taste a discolored bit of cardboard, Benton says, "Peanut butter this time, if I'm not mistaken," and then hands the package over.

"Oh this is great... Greatness!" Ray says, practically dancing with the box. He works on the tape, Benton smiling down at the two half-wolves sitting expectantly at his feet. "Uh uh, boys," he says, automatically lifting the package. "This is mine. And maybe Fraser's - if he's a good boy."

"I'm always a good boy, Ray," Benton jokes back. "Why last night, I even-"

"Hut ut ut!" Ray cuts him off, then nods to the canines at his side. "Not in front of the kids."

Benton smiles, then says, "Yes, dear," as he leans over and kisses Ray on the cheek.

[squidgiepdx]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, Rodney leaves little notes around their quarters when he knows he's going to be busy with work.

Fill: Love Note, McShep

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

John would never admit it, but he felt a little lost without Rodney. He couldn’t count how many people laughed and suggested he’d be happy to have some time to himself, but they were wrong. John’d had years to himself. He was tired of being alone.

Luckily it was only for a week. Rodney was doing a rotation on the Daedalus, which was doing some scouting out around the far edges of galaxy. John would’ve gone too, but it had been decided that Atlantis couldn’t be without both her Military Commanding Officer and her Chief Science Officer for that length of time.

When John returned to their shared quarters that first night, he was surprised to see a folded, slightly-crumpled piece of paper on his pillow. He stared at it for a long time, a feeling of dread sitting like a lead ball in the pit of his stomach.

Rodney used tablets, laptops, and whiteboards. He very rarely put anything down on paper. Surely a note, left behind while he was gone, was a bad sign. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had cut ties with John that way. Things between him and Rodney seemed good, really good, but there was always that slim chance he was missing something important.

With a sigh, John made himself pick the note up and open it. There were coffee stains on it, and the ink had smeared a bit in a few places. The main body of the note seemed to be a lengthy, complicated-looking equation, under which Rodney had jotted down a few words in his spiky handwriting.

I don’t want your mind turning to mush in my absence. I expect this to be solved by the time I get back. If you finish it early, which is doubtful, there’s another one in your footlocker.

And stay out of my chocolate stash! I know you ate the last Caramilk, you bastard. You owe me.

PS – Love you

John grinned. He smoothed out the paper and sat at his desk, ready to tackle the equation.

[squidgiepdx]

Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams, Steve gets a letter from someone in Danny's family.

[lil-1337.livejournal.com]

Dear Uncle Steve

The handwriting on the back of the postcard is large and flowing and the words are written in sparkly purple ink. That would have given away the author even if the salutation hadn't.

This is a picture of a snowman Danno and I made today. There is a place here that lets you turn pictures into postcards. Cool huh? I forgot how cold New Jersey is. Visiting with Grandma and Grandpa has been nice, but We're ready to come home where it's warm.

Steve chuckles. He can't help it. He tries to ignore the little bloom of happiness that comes from Grace calling Hawaii home. He should be focusing on how much he is going to harass Danny about being a wimp, but some how that seems less important.

I have to go to bed now, but Danno says we can go to the mall tomorrow and mail this. I hope your Christmas was nice.

It had been. Quiet, but nice. Steve smiles and nods though there is no one there to notice.

We'll be home for New Year's. Danno says he promised and he doesn't break his promises.

That's true. Steve can vouch for that even though there are times when he wished that Danny would just let something go.

We miss you! Love Grace

That little bloom of happiness explodes into a mushroom cloud as Steve reads the final words. A stupid grin that he can't seem to make go away curling the corners of his lips. For reasons he can't, or won't let himself, understand those five simple words have broken through his iron clad self control and have taken command.

Carefully he sets the card on the table then picks it up again and rereads it. After a moment's consideration he carries it up to the bathroom and tucks it into the mirror where he can look at the picture as he shaves and gets ready for work.

[squidgiepdx]

Donald Strachey Mysteries, Donald Strachey/Timothy Callahan, Don comes home and finds a note that says, "Come dance with me."

Fill: Donald Strachey Mysteries, Donald Strachey/Timothy Callahan - Homecoming

[lil-1337.livejournal.com]

The first thing Donald notices when he steps into the house is the warmth rushing in to ease his frozen bones. The second is the music. It's low, but the smooth jazz sound soothes the ragged edges of his mind and puts a smile on his face. With his outer clothes hung and his shoes left to dry on the tile he makes his way towards the bedroom to change into something soft and comfortable.

A square of beautiful pale paper rests on the top of his dresser and he picks it up. The words "Come dance with me" on the only thing on it though Donald knows Timmy's handwriting as well as he knows his own. Change of clothes forgotten he hurries back down the stairs and makes his way into the living room.

He finds Timmy seated on the couch, sipping a martini, flipping through a magazine and without saying a word extends a hand in invitation. Timmy nods and smiles, setting down his glass and tossing the magazine to the side. Gracefully he comes to his feet and takes Donald's hand.

Within seconds Donald is wrapped in Timmy's arms and they are swaying gently to the strands of the soft music flowing out of the speakers. Sighing happily Donald moves closer then raises his face for a kiss. This house that they have put so much time and money into is beautiful and Donald feels safe here, but being in Timmy's embrace is really the place he calls home.

[squidgiepdx]

The Flash/Arrow (crossover), Barry Allen/Oliver Queen, Oliver wakes up with a note in his hand that reads, "I miss you"

[squidgiepdx]

Filled: http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/704622.html?thread=92975726#t92975726

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Luke Skywalker +/ Kylo Ren, a thousand letters he didn’t send

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Kingsman: The Secret Service, Eggsy Unwin/Merlin, he starts sending Merlin postcards from every mission he does

not a fill

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

BUT EXCUUUUUUUSE ME WHY HAVEN'T WE BEEN TALKING ABOUT KINGSMAN THIS WHOLE TIME?????

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Supergirl (TV), Kara Danvers/Maxwell Lord, love letters from a (not so) anonymous admirer

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Babylon 5, Michael Garibaldi/Lennier + Any, Michael Garibaldi vs the post office

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Superman: TAS, Lex Luthor/Clark Kent, Lex keeps writing letters to the Daily Planet. Clark wishes he would stop

Fill

[leni-ba.livejournal.com]

"Kent!" a voice calls out even as an envelope flies onto Clark's desk.

Clark takes one look at the smooth, expensive high-quality paper, and sinks his head between his hands with a loud groan.

"Aw," Lois chirps. "Your secret admirer is back!"

With a spurt of speed, he snaps the envelope before his partner can get a hold of it. "Some privacy, please?" He can feel Lois rolling her eyes. "And I'll take you to lunch for a week?"

"That's more like it," Lois says. She still leans against his desk, though, and when he lifts his head, it's to find her looking inquisitively at the unopened missive. "What, I can't even look now?"

Clark sighs. "You're such a pain."

She grins, showing a row of perfect white teeth. It reminds him of sharks circling a drowned body - or a mama bear protecting her cub. "Yet you love me, Kent."

Honesty prompts him to nod. He might save hundreds of lives every year, but while he walks as Clark Kent, he can count on Lois to watch his back.

Sadly, that also means that she won't give up.

"So," she starts, picking up a pencil and a sharpener as an excuse to stick around. "Secret admirer turned to be a bust?"

"You could say that."

"Oh, do tell!" She abandons the pencil with a careless toss, and it rolls off the desk. "I love blind date disasters. Too ugly? Too short? Too talkative?"

What about, 'too evil'. "Um."

Her eyes widen. "That bad?"

Clark shrugs. "He was nothing like what I expected."

Lois gives him a pitying glance. He must look like hell. If he were anyone else, he'd be delighted that his pen-pal turned out to be a multimillionaire who owns half the city and has bent several rules in order to get to know Clark better. But 'Alexander L.' is just a pseudonym for Lex Luthor, and no matter how smart and kind the man sounds on paper, Clark just cannot forget everything he knows.

"Aw, don't pout." A bright red fingernail reaches out to tap against the letter. "Read it. Perhaps he had a bad day and now he's explaining himself."

Clark gives her a look. Oh, the irony. "You want me to give him another shot?"

Lois looks away and says, almost offhandedly. "Well... You deserve someone nice, Clark. And this Alex did sound nice."

"You read my mail!"

"Just the once," she says, with not one ounce of guilt. "To check that it wasn't some weirdo. Who mails letters these days, anyway?"

Which means that there's a real Alexander L. somewhere in Metropolis, whose identity Luthor had happily appropriated. Didn't it get better and better?

"Not right now." And he joins words with actions and slips the letter in his top drawer. "I really wish he'd stopped writing."

Lois tuts in disapproval, but finally shrugs. "Just give the guy a chance, Clark. You look... too lonely sometimes. I worry about you."

Mama bear, all right.

"I'm fine, Lois." He tries a smile.

"But you were better when you had that silly smile on your face when you got one of those," and she nods to the closed drawer. "Come on. You're the one who believes in love and all that nonsense, so be brave, Clark Kent. What's the worst that could happen?"

I could fall in love with the man who'd happily feed Superman kryptonite.

"I'll think about it," he says just to satisfy her.

Lois peers at him. "Don't make me come back," she warns him.

And there's the shark.

He should tell her the truth. Lois would burn that letter and never speak of it again.

But he did like the man he got to know through his writing, and it was unfair to have to let go. So he didn't. Not completely. Not just yet.

[tigriswolf]

RPF, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, love notes

[tigriswolf]

author's choice, author's choice, letters to the stars

White Collar, Kate Moreau + Alex Hunter

[sapphire2309]

Kate purses her lips and tries to think. It's hard, because of all the cotton wool clouding her thoughts, but she makes an effort, and neurons fire eventually.

"I think Neal's lying to me," she says. "He's a professional liar. Pants on fire. He needs me for the Beckett job but he thinks it's too dangerous. So he says he doesn't."

"I'll drink to that," Alex says, and takes a long swig from the bottle.

Kate snorts. Alex would drink to her saying 'papaya pooping penguins' over and over at this point.

"We should do this more often," Alex muses. "Get drunk, climb on to the roof and write love letters to the stars."

"We haven't written any love letters and we don't know any stars," Kate mutters confusedly.

"I know stars! There's the north star, obviously, and there's Regulus, and there's Bellatrix-"

"Oh! The sparkly silver dots! I thought you meant big people. Like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers."

Alex stood up unsteadily. "Dear Bellatrix," she proclaimed. "Thank you, for lighting up the night sky. Unless you were in the sky during the day, in which case, I'm sorry, the sun stole your thunder."

Kate huffed. "Stars are useless. They're too far away to make a difference."

Alex turned to her, a thoroughly unamused expression on her face. "Look at the sky. What do you see?"

"Stars."

"There! Difference made."

"But they don't do anything. They just... hover."

"They make the sky prettier. And less bleak. There's some variety up there, thanks to them."

"I like the sun better. It's steady. And it doesn't lie."

Alex might have felt a twinge of sympathy. "Do you want me to accidentally step on his feet in my best heels?"

"Nah. I'll do it myself."

"I'll drink to that."

"You know what? So will I."

When Neal and Mozzie find them, it's almost dawn and their conversation has faded to occasional murmurs of "dear Bellatrix".



(star names shamelessly stolen from Harry Potter characters who are named after stars.)

[tigriswolf]

Harry Potter, Harry Potter, finally receiving the backlog of post from a lifetime of blocked mail

[tigriswolf]

author's choice, author's choice, saving the first piece of mail ever received

Fill - Steve/Bucky, Gen, during TFA (Part 1)

[alba17.livejournal.com]

“What’s that you got there?” one of the dancers asked Steve. Betty was her name. “Letter from your sweetheart?”

Steve’s face heated and he quickly folded the letter over so she couldn’t see the handwriting. “Naw, just a friend.” He put it back in his pocket. The paper was worn, crinkled and softened, and he handled it carefully so as not to tear it.

“Don’t ya have a sweetheart?” Betty cocked her hip and looked at Steve like she was sizing him up. They were backstage in Minneapolis, the umpteenth stop on a cross-country tour. Other dancers rushed past in a hurry to get ready for the show. “That’s hard to believe.” With narrowed eyes, she gave him a slow once over. “Big bruiser like you.”

Steve had been down this road before. Being the star of the show and one of the few men on the tour, he was often the target of speculation and come-ons. “Jeez, Betty, you know I don’t.”

“I seen you lookin’ at that letter before every show. Why else would you do that? Unless it’s from your mom. Oh god, you’re a mama’s boy, aintcha? I knew it.” She looked off in the distance. “Damn, now I owe Sue a dollar.”

“Nope, my ma’s dead.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry.” She looked him over again. “Maybe you’d like to go out for drinks after the show, talk about it? I know how to make a man feel a whole lot better.”

Steve sighed. Last time he’d tell one of the girls about that. “Listen, I’d love to talk, but I gotta get my make-up done.”

“Oh hush, there’s plenty of time.” She put the tip of her index finger on his chest. “I bet you need help getting out of this tight uniform after. Know what I mean?”

Steve wasn’t immune to the girls’ charms—he’d gone out with one or two of them, mainly for something to do, someone to talk to—but Betty wasn’t one of them. Betty had a mouth on her and was known to gossip. He didn’t need that. He had his hands full, what with getting used to this new body and performing in the show. And then there was the time he started talking about Bucky with one of the girls and he couldn’t shut up. It was only ‘cause he missed Bucky like crazy. Sometimes things only seemed real when he could tell Bucky about them and so much had happened since Bucky shipped out, with the serum and becoming Captain America, Steve was bursting.

He stepped back, away from Betty’s finger. “No, thanks. After the show I’m bushed.”

Betty’s face hardened and she dropped her hand. “You went out with Patsy, I heard.”

“Betty, lay off.”

She crossed her arms. “Only if you tell me who the letter’s from.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s private.”

“You do have a sweetheart. Why’d ya lie?”

“I didn’t lie.” He smirked. “Did ya forget I’m Captain America? Not allowed to lie.” He still enjoyed pulling that one out.

“Oh please.”

“I really don’t have a sweetheart. Just a good friend.”

“Uh-huh. Coulda fooled me, the way you look at that letter all the time.” She let out a resigned breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave you alone.” With a raised eyebrow, she added, “Think about goin’ for a drink, though, all right? You can tell me about your ‘friend.’ Is he a soldier?”

“Betty. Make-up.”

She held her hands up. “I’m going, I’m going.” With a little wave, she turned to leave, then sing-songed, “I’m a good listener. You can cry on my shoulder.”

“Break a leg, Betty.”

She disappeared down the corridor towards the dressing room. Relieved, Steve returned to completing his pre-show ritual. Bucky had done his duty and now Steve was doing his, even if a theater in Minneapolis was a whole lot safer than Europe. He kept telling himself this was part of the war effort too, even if he was frustrated at not being in the war itself. Reading the letter made him feel better about everything, expunged some of the guilt for being in a show wearing tights instead of fighting.

He pulled out the letter to finish reading it. Well, re-reading it. Not that he even needed to because he had it memorized, but it was comforting to look at Bucky’s handwriting, to know that Bucky had written those words with his own hand. It was the one and only letter Steve had gotten from Bucky in Europe. He gently spread it out on his thigh.

[tigriswolf]

RPF, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, love letters written on skin for the world to see

Not a fill...

[squidgiepdx]

...since I don't know who these two people are, but OMG that prompt. Literally gave me chills - in the good way!

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

Green Lantern, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne, Hal won't stop sexting Bruce during a meeting/party/dinner with the family.

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

Green Lantern, Hal Jordan/Thaal Sinestro, I would carve my name all over your body so everyone knows you are mine.

Fill: Making a Mockery [DCU, Hal/Sinestro + Bruce, PG-13

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

“Lantern,” Bats says lowly when he gets back to the watchtower, staring at his neck so closely that he feels tempted to start making vampire jokes just to diffuse some of the tension, “are you… Alright?”

“What?” He snaps, put on the defensive by the sheer shock of having Bats take an interest in him beyond yelling and sarcastic remarks. He wasn’t aware that the man was capable of concern, it’s kinda terrifying to experience, “don’t I look alright?”

“No,” Bats says bluntly, as per usual. But the terror doesn’t quite go away, the atmosphere doesn’t quite go back to normal, because the guy is still staring at him with the kind of focus that could probably peel paint from the walls if given half a chance, “you look sleep deprived, angry and like you’re in the mood for a fight. Quite honestly, if I said that you looked like a mess I’d be being kind.”

“And god knows you’re allergic to that,” he huffs, rolls his eyes. Being a cocky little shit is how he’s always dealt with people prodding into his business, he’s not about to stop now, “you’ve just described how I usually look after missions, Bats. That is alright for me.”

“Yes, but…” Bats purses his lips for a long moment, sighs out through his nose. He glares, and resists the urge to start bouncing from foot to foot, “you honestly aren’t aware, are you?”

“Aware of how I really want to go for a nap?” He asks archly, and continues to glare. It won’t put off the dark knight of angry facial expressions, obviously, but it makes him feel a bit better and that’s the important thing, “or aware of how you’re being really, really annoying? Or-?”

“Jordan,” Bats snaps. And, when he only continues to glower, sighs again – grabs his arm, and pulls him around until he can see himself in the shiny reflection of one of the hanger walls, “aware of that.”

…The giant, purpling bruise on his neck. The vivid cut in the middle, so deep and puffy looking that it’s inevitably going to leave an impressive scar. The clear sign, of what he’s been doing when offworld and who exactly he’s been doing it with. The mark of fangs, as clear as a collar around his neck.

Shit.

“Jordan,” Bats is repeating awkwardly, looking at him with that same lingering concern that now feels just a little like a fist right in the gut, “if you were bitten by something, if that thing hurt you, then I’d be perfectly happy to-“

“Shut up,” he whispers. Sees, in the shiny reflection of the wall, his fingers twitch abortively – as he barely restrains the urge to lift his hand up to his neck and probe the wound.

“…I should at least take you to the medical centre,” Bruce continues to argue, after a long pause in which several conclusions are obviously reached. He’s the great detective, even better than Sherlock fucking Holmes. He can probably figure it out in five seconds flat, and still have ample time to judge him afterwards, “a bite that deep could get infected, and if there’s alien saliva inside it-“

“I said,” he repeats tetchily, stares for a moment more and then forces himself to spin away. To stop focusing on it, the fucking mark of ownership that mocks him loud and clear, “shut up.”

“Jordan-“

But it’s too late. He’s already marching away, out of the hanger and up into the watchtower as fast as he can. Maybe he can outrun the memory of Sinestro’s teeth on his skin, Sinestro’s whispers in his ear, if he moves fast enough. It’s certainly worth a try.

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

Daredevil, Foggy Nelson/Matthew Murdock, Foggy learns Braille by comparing Matt's copies of the files to his own (ok and looking up some stuff on the internet, because, wow, punctuation) and eventually he gets confident enough in his knowledge to start leaving little hand-brailled notes for Matt.

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

MCU, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Three weeks after Steve crashes the plane in the Atlantic Peggy receives his last letter.

[lasairfhiona.livejournal.com]

Peggy looked at the letter in her hand. At first she didn’t recognise the hand writing  and then she did with a gasp, grabbing the back of the chair.

It was from Steve.

Her heart broke just a little. She dropped down into the wing back chair and ran her fingers along the edge of the envelope. The postmark said it was mailed the day before his flight. So many emotions flooded her.  That he would write her a letter when he planned to come home and take her dancing. She wanted to know what he couldn’t say in person that he had to write it down. But yet, those final words. Did she really want to know?

Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. She slipped her finger under the edge and carefully opened the letter. She read his words and wept. He told her how much she meant to him, how even with all the confidence he had for everything else, he was so unsure of how to proceed with her and how he desperately wanted to get it right.

Wiping the tears away, she folded the letter and returned it to the envelope. Hugging it to her chest one last time, she put it safely away. Someday she would go back and read it again, she was sure.  It just hurt to much right now.

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

Jessica Jones, One sided non-con Zebediah Kilgrave/Jessica Jones, Sometimes even getting the mail is almost too scary a prospect to handle. He might have sent her another "love letter"

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

Any, Any/Any, Receiving a letter 20 years late.

Fill: oc.oc.Receiving a letter 20 years late.

[jennifergoines.livejournal.com]

It's still sealed and there's just a single word written on the front. Her name.

She recognises the handwriting as soon as she sees it. Of course she does. He'd been her first real crush. Her first real boyfriend. Back in the days when computers were new, everyone's handwriting was familiar then. What is that, like 20 odd years ago?

Turning the envelope over and over she wonders how it got there, trapped behind the heavy sideboard and the wall of her mother's house. She finds herself sinking to the floor. Her legs folding beneath her until she is sitting amongst the packing boxes and debris created by the house clearance. She hasn't thought of him in a long time. It makes her smile.

Ahhh that boy, she'd been so in love with him, and he with her. The countless hours doodling his name in her school books. The little notes he'd pass to her in class, or leave in her bag. The intensity and feeling you only get with a teenage romance. Oh, what could have been. If only they hadn't argued. If only they both hadn't been too proud and full of themselves to apologise. Maybe she could have married him instead of the jerk she'd ended up with.

She looks sightlessly around the room. For a moment seeing only the happy memories in her head. Then her gaze falls to the envelope again and she carefully tears it open and slips out the note card inside.

There's a cutesy bear on the front holding a flower. It makes her laugh lightly. She'd forgotten how sweet he'd been, her big bear. She runs a finger over the embossing of the flower. Nobody writes love notes these days do they. It's such a shame. Still, it's nice to get one now, even if it is 20 years too late.

She opens the card.

And sits very still.

Then a big fat tear rolls down her cheek and splashes on to the single word inside.

[truthwritaslies.livejournal.com]

Grimm, Nick Burkhardt/Any, The gilded envelope and wax seal are unusual enough that the mail-carrier brings the letter to the door instead of dropping it in the mailbox with everything else.

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

DCU, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne OR Hal Jordan/Thaal Sinestro, (317): I sent you an email today but due to work restrictions, I had to misspell choke sex

[katsuno-hitomi.livejournal.com]

The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, Modern AU where the quest is live-tweeted.

Not a fill

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

But this is hysterical and I love the idea of it.

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

IT Crowd (or RPF), Roy Trenneman +/ Maurice Moss (or Chris O'Dowd/Richard Ayoade), misuse of email and IM functionality

[squidgiepdx]

Be gentle - it's my first time in this fandom! Filled here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6325291