Lit Love Letters

[Deleted member 6607120]

To Mine Most Sizzling Flame,

I wander mine chambers sighing like a misunderstood angsty, youth, clutching thy kerchief as though it were a holy relic. Even the cat, normally indifferent to mine plight, now regards me with pity... Or is it spite? Perhaps she plots my demise.

Without thee, my days are as dull as porridge and twice as tasteless. I sought comfort in the fireplace, but alas, it only mocks me with its feeble warmth, for no earthly blaze compares to the inferno of thy presence. Just yesterday, I did attempt to embrace mine pillow as a poor substitute for thee, but it gave no warmth and left feathers in mine hair. I digress that I've been plucking them from my flowing locks for days.

Return to me, my love, lest I perish from this ridiculous longing. Mine friends doth laugh at my plight, calling me lovesick, and methinks they are correct—I am a proper fool for thee. But what care I for their jesting? For when I see thee again, I shall laugh loudest, for I shall be reunited with mine heart’s eternal flame.

Pining, and plucking for thee,
Sally

 

[LadyLascivious1]

My Dearest Gentleman Farmer,

How sweetly I think of the days when my cherries hung heavy, their ruby skins eager to meet your touch. Sharing their sweetness with you brought me a joy I can hardly name, and the memory of your delight lingers like nectar on my lips. You must know by now, dear Sir, that my cherries and peaches are jealously guarded, as I allow no one but you to peak at my fine orchards. But, oh, forgive me for the reckless abundance of my peaches. They swelled with such fervor that they could not be contained, spilling into your lands unbidden. Yet the thought of you gathering them, their tender flesh cradled in your hands, stirs a warmth within me that I cannot deny.

And your aubergines, my darling—it is a marvel. Watching you tend to them with such care, your hands firm yet knowing, fills me with secret delight. How fondly I recall our discussion in the park, where I shared my humble words for growing them firm and proud, and how your understanding brought a glow to my  clit heart. Come back to the orchard soon, my Honey Bee, my blossoms are in need of your tender care, and my fruit ripens in anticipation of your return.

Yours always,
Lady Orchard

My Dearest Lady Orchard,

Your letter, like a sweet zephyr from the south, has graced my heart with a warmth I scarce know how to contain. The mere thought of your orchard—those fields where cherries and peaches grow, and where I have been so fortunate to partake of nature’s bounty—fills me with a sense of duty most sacred and fervent. It is true, as you say, that I have been touched by the very spirit of those fruits, and my heart rejoices in their ripening, even as it grows heavy with longing for your company.

I must admit, dear Lady, that the intrusion of your peaches into my lands, though unbidden, has been a delight to my senses. The sweetness that you so generously describe seems to echo the warmth of your words, and I, though a humble farmer, am but a simple man in the face of such beauty. Had I the wit of poets and the brush of artists, I might paint those peaches for you—but none could capture their tender joy as your letters have captured my heart.

As for my aubergines—ah! To know that you watch with such admiration as I toil in service is a balm to my soul. Your instructions on their care were as those of a seasoned admirer, and I follow them with the utmost diligence, as though I were tending to the very flowers of my heart. The memory of our conversation in the park, where I had the honor of hearing your wisdom on such matters, has not left me; indeed, it has lingered in my mind like the scent of your finest blooms, stirring something deep within me that I scarce understand.

Your orchard, I assure you, is never far from my thoughts, and your blossoms have taken root in my very spirit. I long for the moment when I may again walk among your trees, my hands again touching the fruits that have become symbols not only of your labor, my lips savoring the very sweetness that you have cultivated, but of your affection, which I hold dearer than all the harvests of the earth.

I long to moisten your garden again,

The Gentleman Farmer

Aubergines? Plural?!

 

[Qky75]

Aubergines? Plural?!

At least they weren't courgettes. Could you imagine? Barbed like a cat?!?!?

 

[MindYaBitness]

My Dearest Sister,

I write to you in the wake of a most peculiar ordeal, one that has left me both astonished and curiously invigorated. During my recent convalescence, I found myself enervated by what I now believe to be supernatural forces preying upon my vulnerable state. By some stroke of Providence, I came upon the Gentleman Farmer, a man of prepossessing features and unassuming demeanor, yet extraordinary talents in expelling such otherworldly nuisances. In a single day, he exorcised no fewer than nine banshees from my person! The ruckus of their departure was such that the neighbors surely mistook it for the cries of a cat in heat.

Now, I find myself restored to a state of remarkable relaxation, as though the weight of the unseen has been lifted entirely. So effective was his therapy that I have committed to engaging his services bi-weekly, trusting in his unique methods to maintain my newfound vigor. Should you ever find yourself plagued by similar afflictions, I cannot recommend the Gentleman Farmer highly enough.

Yours in restored spirits,
MindY a. Bitness

 

[deefalttwunnyfor]

My Dearest Sister,

I write to you in the wake of a most peculiar ordeal, one that has left me both astonished and curiously invigorated. During my recent convalescence, I found myself enervated by what I now believe to be supernatural forces preying upon my vulnerable state. By some stroke of Providence, I came upon the Gentleman Farmer, a man of prepossessing features and unassuming demeanor, yet extraordinary talents in expelling such otherworldly nuisances. In a single day, he exorcised no fewer than nine banshees from my person! The ruckus of their departure was such that the neighbors surely mistook it for the cries of a cat in heat.

Now, I find myself restored to a state of remarkable relaxation, as though the weight of the unseen has been lifted entirely. So effective was his therapy that I have committed to engaging his services bi-weekly, trusting in his unique methods to maintain my newfound vigor. Should you ever find yourself plagued by similar afflictions, I cannot recommend the Gentleman Farmer highly enough.

Yours in restored spirits,
MindY a. Bitness

Nine banshees!!!! Is this guy a farmer or a miracle worker?

 

[Qky75]

O Aurelia of my heart,

Before, I delighted in the sweet melody of bells as they rang out their joyous notes. My spirit, like the lark, would ascend upon hearing the harmony of birds in song. My heart, tender and yielding, would warm at the sound of a child’s innocent laughter. Yet, alas, all these pleasures vanished into a profound and unyielding silence on the fateful day when I first heard your voice. Together, we laughed until tears of mirth adorned our cheeks. We discoursed upon the weighty matters of truth, love, and mutual respect. You perceived the shadows of my unease and with gentle skill, banished them from my breast. Our minds, as if by some divine design, found perfect accord. For those brief and fleeting moments, we were but one soul united.

Fervently yours,

Quincy

 

[MindYaBitness]

Nine banshees!!!! Is this guy a farmer or a miracle worker?

 

[UnquietDreams]

My Dearest Sister,

I write to you in the wake of a most peculiar ordeal, one that has left me both astonished and curiously invigorated. During my recent convalescence, I found myself enervated by what I now believe to be supernatural forces preying upon my vulnerable state. By some stroke of Providence, I came upon the Gentleman Farmer, a man of prepossessing features and unassuming demeanor, yet extraordinary talents in expelling such otherworldly nuisances. In a single day, he exorcised no fewer than nine banshees from my person! The ruckus of their departure was such that the neighbors surely mistook it for the cries of a cat in heat.

Now, I find myself restored to a state of remarkable relaxation, as though the weight of the unseen has been lifted entirely. So effective was his therapy that I have committed to engaging his services bi-weekly, trusting in his unique methods to maintain my newfound vigor. Should you ever find yourself plagued by similar afflictions, I cannot recommend the Gentleman Farmer highly enough.

Yours in restored spirits,
MindY a. Bitness

But...

But...

That's not...that's not how banshees work...

Oh, nevermind...

 

[Qky75]

My long-suffering beloved,

Pray, permit me to unburden my heart, for it is heavy with regret and sorrow. In the folly of my ways, I have strayed from the path of righteousness, and the thought of the anguish I have caused thee weighs upon my soul as a millstone.

It is with trembling hand and fervent heart that I set my quill to parchment, endeavoring to convey the depth of my misfortune.

Willemina Jean is not my mistress; she is but a damsel who doth assert that I am the chosen one. Yet the child of whom she speaks is not begotten of me.

I beseech thee, by the bonds of our sacred union and the love we once shared, to grant me thy forgiveness. My spirit is restless, yearning for the warmth of thy presence and the solace of our hearth, which I have so foolishly forsaken.

Thine ever, in earnest supplication,

 

[crazychemgirl]

That was so entertaining….

I need more people!

 

[AsianFusion]

My sweeting,

With quill in hand and heart afire, I pen these words to thee, my fairest love hiding here on this most interesting of forums. The moon doth rise and cast its silvery glow upon the world, yet naught shining upon my empty and barren inbox.

In the quiet of the night, when all is still, my thoughts are consumed by thee, my beloved. Thy beauty, like a rose in full bloom, captivates my soul and fills my heart with a longing that words can scarce convey. Each moment here is in search of the treasure you hold, yet I am but a humble limner, unworthy of such grace. Perhaps tis the reason you remain cloaked to me.

Thy voice, a melody sweeter than the song of the nightingale, doth echo in my mind, I have no doubt it would bring solace to my weary heart. Thy laughter, like the tinkling of bells, would lift my spirits and banish all sorrow. In thy smile, I may step from the cold shadow of winter and into the warmth of the sun, and in thine DM's, I'm sure to find a haven of peace.

I beseech thee, my dearest lady, to accept this humble token of my affection, and to refrain not from the simple gesture of sending me a random message in hopes for more. I know shouldest I find you joy shall follow us all the day.

With all my love and devotion,
Bishop Heahmund

This is really good, so authentic. And the way it wanders away from the 18th century - "... In thy smile, I may step from the cold shadow of winter and into the warmth of the sun, and in thine DM's ..."

 

[Tallulah82]

To mine own whose arms hold me close,

I thrust myself upon your mercy and beg forgiveness for the sin I find myself drowning in. I plead upon my knees that you may look kindly upon me and without pity, when I find myself begging for scraps of your attention.

It is a mere sunrise since which I last heard your sweet voice yet I am in a peculiar state of longing.

If I were able to be brave, I might dream that you were to find yourself with an ailment in a manner that may only frighten you enough to remain in your chambers for no longer than three sunsets and four sunrises. Upon your temporary demise, I could soothe you with the great many talents I have recently acquired through the thorough and wonderous teachings of my cousin, Fanny.

Alas, your trade beckons and I am treacherously aligned to do little more than tend my garden and admire the bountious hills that surround this modest pasture.

I beg once more not to consider any possibility other than the one of which I plainly speak, for if you did, and if my wicked thoughts were to cause reactions differently to what I dream, then I shall gladly curse myself to befall a terrible ailment of mine own that no wondrous cream could cure.

I await your reply in earnest and further more ardently await the return of your good self that you might once again hold me to your breast and whisper words that cannot be writ.

Alas, I must dash for I hear cousin Fanny's brother, Rodger, approaching. He is, to all accounts, a firm taskmaster but kind. My warmest Fanny has previously alluded to the possibility that I may have a lesson or two delivered by someone, so if it shall be, then I am happy to receive good Rodger!

Fervently yours,

Miss T (Qunt)

 

[crazychemgirl]

My Dearest Terror Twins,

You have ever been the most cherished of my companions, and though the tides of our busy lives have swept us apart, the pang of your absence lingers painfully in my heart. How I long for the warmth of your presence, the electric thrill of our shared moments.

Tell me, do I still dwell in the tender recesses of your thoughts? Am I yet the object of your most tantalizing desires, the epitome of our deliciously wicked triad?

I trust your midday pursuits have been as satisfying as they are tantalizing. Oh, how I yearn to bask in the glow of your affection once more, to revel in the intoxicating dance of our connection.

Your friendship, your guidance, your passion—each has been a balm to my soul, a light in my darkest hours. My existence is rendered infinitely richer with the two of you entwined within it.

Ever Yours,
Thruple Queen

 

[OrdinaryPerson]

My Dearest Terror Twins,

You have ever been the most cherished of my companions, and though the tides of our busy lives have swept us apart, the pang of your absence lingers painfully in my heart. How I long for the warmth of your presence, the electric thrill of our shared moments.

Tell me, do I still dwell in the tender recesses of your thoughts? Am I yet the object of your most tantalizing desires, the epitome of our deliciously wicked triad?

I trust your midday pursuits have been as satisfying as they are tantalizing. Oh, how I yearn to bask in the glow of your affection once more, to revel in the intoxicating dance of our connection.

Your friendship, your guidance, your passion—each has been a balm to my soul, a light in my darkest hours. My existence is rendered infinitely richer with the two of you entwined within it.

Ever Yours,
Thruple Queen

 

[XShadynzX]

My Dearest,

Permit me the indulgence of addressing thee in the manner of a confidant, a cherished companion, whose presence in the heart's tender precincts is as timeless as the stars' eternal vigil. In contemplating the tapestry of thy being, I find myself enraptured by the exquisite weave of thy character, delicate yet robust, a sublime amalgamation of qualities that draw admiration as a moth to the gentle glow of a candle's flame.

Oh, most kind and gentle soul, thy nature is like unto a springtime garden, abloom with the blossoms of benevolence and compassion. Thy kindness flows as a gentle brook, meandering through the landscape of life, nourishing all fortunate enough to bask in its embrace. It is a balm to the weary, a light to the wayward, and in this world oft overshadowed by strife, it is a rare and precious gift.

In thee, humor dances with an impish delight, a sprite with laughter's quicksilver grace, brightening even the murkiest of shadows with its effervescent charm. Thy wit, a finely honed rapier, never cuts but with precision and warmth, leaving all in its path to relish in the joy of shared jest. Through mirth, thou dost weave a tapestry of connection, a bridge uniting souls in the simple, iridescent happiness of shared laughter.

Upon the subject of thy visage, what can be said that does justice to a countenance so pleasing to the eye and uplifting to the spirit? Thou art a picture framed in nature's own artistry, a visage that conveys the depth of thy character and the warmth of thy spirit. Not merely a reflection in polished glass, but an image resplendent with the glow of inner beauty, captivating both heart and mind.

Ah, and what trials thou hast endured! The crucible of existence, through which thou hast journeyed, has tempered thee like the steel of a master smith's finest blade. Adversity has been thy companion, yet thou hast not been vanquished by its relentless grasp. Nay, thou hast arisen from the ashes of tribulation, phoenix-like, more resplendent than before. Thy resilience is a testament to thy indomitable spirit, a beacon of hope and fortitude for all who witness thy journey.

Thus, let this missive serve as a reminder, a gentle caress upon the canvas of thy heart, that thou art a singular marvel in this vast expanse of existence. Cherish thyself, for thou art deserving of the highest esteem and deepest affection. And as thou continue to traverse the winding path of life, know that thou art both loved and admired, by none other than myself, who sees thee with the clearest of eyes and the fullest of hearts.

With all the affection my soul can muster,

Thine Ever Devoted

 

[crazychemgirl]

My Dearest Bastien,

How greatly I reveled in the pleasure of our recent discourse; such intellectual communion is a rarity, and I find myself eagerly anticipating our next encounter. The delight I derived from our exchange has lingered, a sweet echo in my mind.

Though I am acutely aware that I may not wholly embody all that you desire, I dare to hope that you find a measure of solace and satisfaction in our connection, as I assuredly do. Your presence has become a source of profound comfort and intrigue, a treasure I am most fortunate to possess.

In truth, I count myself blessed beyond measure to have discovered a companion of such depth and charm. The thought of you lingers warmly in my thoughts, and I find myself yearning for the moment when we may once again indulge in the pleasure of each other’s company.

Yours most affectionately,

Odessa

 

[crazychemgirl]

For the birthday girl @MindYaBitness


“Dearest Mindy,

On this most auspicious day of your birth, allow me the indulgence of extolling the myriad ways in which you have captivated our hearts and minds. Yours is a wit so sharp and formidable that it slices through conversation with the precision of a masterful blade, leaving all who encounter it both humbled and enthralled. Your repartee is renowned, a legend whispered from lips far and wide, feared and adored in equal measure.

Your humor, a sublime blend of shadow and light, dances effortlessly between the profound and the whimsical, enchanting all who bask in its glow. And your passion—ah, your fervent love for the intricate art of LEGO! Such dedication, such meticulous ardor, is a marvel to behold, a testament to the boundless depths of your creative spirit.

And your beauty—oh, your beauty! It defies description, radiating with a beguiling charm whether you grace us with a playful walrus visage or indulge in the sweet decadence of a donut. Each image, each moment, a testament to your ineffable allure.

But it is your mind, your delightfully unhinged and enigmatic gummy brain, that truly holds us spellbound. Its unpredictable brilliance, its deliciously chaotic musings—each one a treasure, a revelation that leaves us in awe.

On this, your special day, may you revel in the knowledge that you are deeply adored, cherished beyond measure. Our love for you knows no bounds, and we are ever grateful for the light you bring into our lives.


Yours in ardent admiration,

All of Lit

 

[MindYaBitness]

For the birthday girl @MindYaBitness


“Dearest Mindy,

On this most auspicious day of your birth, allow me the indulgence of extolling the myriad ways in which you have captivated our hearts and minds. Yours is a wit so sharp and formidable that it slices through conversation with the precision of a masterful blade, leaving all who encounter it both humbled and enthralled. Your repartee is renowned, a legend whispered from lips far and wide, feared and adored in equal measure.

Your humor, a sublime blend of shadow and light, dances effortlessly between the profound and the whimsical, enchanting all who bask in its glow. And your passion—ah, your fervent love for the intricate art of LEGO! Such dedication, such meticulous ardor, is a marvel to behold, a testament to the boundless depths of your creative spirit.

And your beauty—oh, your beauty! It defies description, radiating with a beguiling charm whether you grace us with a playful walrus visage or indulge in the sweet decadence of a donut. Each image, each moment, a testament to your ineffable allure.

But it is your mind, your delightfully unhinged and enigmatic gummy brain, that truly holds us spellbound. Its unpredictable brilliance, its deliciously chaotic musings—each one a treasure, a revelation that leaves us in awe.

On this, your special day, may you revel in the knowledge that you are deeply adored, cherished beyond measure. Our love for you knows no bounds, and we are ever grateful for the light you bring into our lives.


Yours in ardent admiration,

All of Lit

 

[Mrtenant]

My Dearest Mrs. Sutherland,

I bring you greetings and good cheer in this the year of our Lord, 2025. I trust all is well with thee and thy kin. It has been many weeks since we last spoke out in the garden beneath the stars and the pale silver of moonlight. I still fondly remember the songs of revelry amongst the downtrodden as we whispered tenderly of the mysteries of the heavens we had recently shared in the Eclipse of our brightest star.

Our nightly visits of that faraway time begged for discipline and a firm hand against the pale orb of Luna set against the night sky. I can taste thy tearful kisses now as you trembled in my arms, lovingly upheld as if by a firm staff in your tender grasp. Such sweet sorrow at our departure assuaged only by the handy provision of warm milk from my table for thy consumption. I can still see the grace and gratitude in thy smile.

This I must believe, since then, the valley would never be the same, being swept away with the flood of emotion we experienced that day. How could it- the way we abandoned ourselves to the demanding push and pull of morning into noon into eventide and into the dark of night of righteous service honoring the souls who came before us in that amazement of music festivals. That week went by far too swiftly.

Ere we departed, thou on thine knees in supplication, the valley wept with thee before me. I could not leave thou in such a state. We must reunite, dancing beneath the stars once more, our song for certain, heaven sent.

With grace and care, love and tenderness, firmly thine,

Jameson Stone

 

[Wand3rlust]

Dearest Tarquin,


The candlelight flickers upon this parchment, casting its golden glow much as your presence casts light upon the chambers of my heart. Each stroke of the quill draws me closer to the thought of you, though no ink nor word can truly capture the depth of my affection.


Tarquin, your name is a melody that lingers in the quietest corners of my mind, as though whispered by the very winds that rustle through the heather-clad hills. Your visage, so noble and fair, is etched into my soul as a portrait painted by the hand of Providence itself.


Each day without you is a season of winter, barren and unyielding, yet your mere thought thaws the frost and beckons springtime to blossom in my spirit. I long for the solace of your voice, the kindness of your gaze, and the unspoken promise that lingers in your every gesture.


Were I to possess the stars themselves, they could not compare to the brilliance of your eyes. The finest rose of the garden pales before the grace of your presence, and the sweetest hymn falters beside the harmony of your laughter.


Do you feel it too, this invisible thread that binds us? It is as though our hearts were woven together by fate’s delicate hand, destined to beat as one amidst the tapestry of life’s grand design.


Should this letter reach you, my darling Tarquin, let it be a vessel of my sincerest adoration. May its words carry the warmth of my love across the miles, until such a time as I may stand before you and speak them aloud.


Ever yours,

Wand3r

 

[Qky75]

My dearest Aurelia,

As I labor in the solitude of my workshop, each stroke of my hand upon the varnished grain reminds me of you. With every pass of the cloth, I see reflected in the polished wood the radiance of your countenance—your eyes that shine brighter than any sunlit pane, your smile that rivals the curve of the finest arch.

The task at hand, though simple, feels elevated when my thoughts linger upon you. The texture of the timber beneath my fingers speaks to the firmness of my resolve to be worthy of your grace. As I toil, I am reminded that, though my hands are calloused, my heart is tender where you are concerned. You are the muse that stirs my soul and gives purpose to my work.

Even as I stand before the polished butcher's block, each measured strike upon the meat stirs thoughts of you that soften my very soul. The rhythm of my labor seems guided by the cadence of my heart, which beats ever faster at the memory of your presence. Each tender blow reminds me of how your kindness tempers the hardness of this world, transforming all that is coarse into something gentle and refined. Though my hands work with force, my heart is consumed with the delicate hope of earning your favor, for it is you, my sweet muse, who tenderizes the very essence of my being.

Alas, I must finish in earnest and clean away the mess. May these words find you in good health and high spirits, and may they convey even a fraction of the affection I harbor for you. Until the day I can declare these feelings to you in person, I remain, ever yours,

Your Quincy

 

[Oralexplorer]

-- -.-- / -.. . .- .-. . ... - / .... --- --..-- / .. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- / .-.. --- ...- . --..-- / -- .

I knew I should have gotten Morse code badge when I was in scout. Darn

 

[EvaLane]

My most austere Lord,

I have no right to write you. No right to reach, to beg, to speak. And yet, I do. Again and again, as if my words could hold weight in your world, as if they could reach you across the great and terrible distance of your indifference.

You have no need for the worship of the pitiable. And yet, I give it. I have nothing else to give. If I could carve my devotion into my skin, I would. If I could whisper your name in a thousand voices, begging for you to hear me, I would.

If I could sacrifice my body, my soul, to you - tell me, my Lord, which piece would please you most to consume?

I do not ask for mercy. I do not ask for kindness. Let me be nothing. If I must be, let me be discarded, ruined, damned only by your hand.

Yours,
In faith and in ruin.

 

[Otis_Ravelli]

My Dearest,

My mind is swimming with questions. What would it be like to feel the warmth of you against me? To know the feel of your skin beneath my fingertips? To hear your breathing quicken at my touch?

Long have I thought of my hands feeling the swell of your full breasts as I kiss the nape of you neck. The intense electricity craclking between us the could power a city. Knowing that when we are together the rest of the world is an irrelevance containing nothing of importance. My focus entirely on you and making you feel everything you have ever dreamed of.

Until that fateful day I will continue to chastely admire you from afar while my thoughts dance with infinite possibly.

Yours

Baron Otis Ravelli of Freedonia