Soooo... hey, lovelies! Wattpad decided to ban my OneArtsyGamer03 account... which is so great am I right

*cries*

It's fine! Totally fine. Right now, I'm just focusing on republishing all my old stories. They will be left unedited, as I'm going to be publishing new, fresh versions of these stories anyway so there's not really any point in editing these ones. I just wanna get them back up for you all to find.

That being said, I will not be editing anything or fixing anything in these old stories since I'm writing up new better versions of these anyway! So I'm just gonna be copying and pasting the chapters, leaving in all author notes and everything. <3

Also! I'm also going to be copying this message into all my old stories so if you see it again that's why.

Anyway... Welcome home, lovelies <3

...

Happy Holidays! :) I'm sorry if you haven't seen this movie! D: It's on Netflix for anyone wondering!

I've been saving this for Christmas, and have been writing it since the day after Thanksgiving. I hope you all enjoy it! ^·^ ❤

...

Third Person P.O.V

Cream colored envelopes pour into a dark room, lit up by a single beam of light.

"Letters..." A man's voice speaks, the letters continuing to pile up. "You don't really write many these days, do you? But I bet there's one you never forget."

More and more letters pile up, "Send it off to a certain plump guy in a red suit and, provided you've kept your act together more or less, he'll drop off a toy or two."

The man continues, "And yet... no one seems to wonder how the whole thing got started in the first place."

"This is a story about letters. And how I met her. And it began..."

A blue envelope falls onto the pile, a red wax seal stamped onto it to prevent it from opening.

"With this one."

The pile of letters fall, landing into a cart being rolled by a postman. The blue letter sits on top, the man rolling the cart past boxes waiting to be mailed out.

He dumps the cart of letters onto the conveyer belt, a man sliding the letters onto it. Others dust it, measure it, and stamp it before putting it into the transport tube.

He shuts the lid, pulling the lever and sending the blue envelope off.

...

Postmen swiftly work to organize the letters, not pausing for a moment as one picks up the blue letter. He looks at it with wide eyes as he reads who it's from, turning and walking to the counter and ringing a bell.

A man with a golden platter walks by, the postman carefully laying the letter onto it before returning to his post.

The man carries the platter carefully with grace, walking down the steps of the Royal Postal Academy.

Cadets grunt in sync as they exercise, a whistle blowing as the drill sergeant counts.

"... 74! 75! 76..."

The cadets train, the sergeant continuing to count as they do sit ups with large boxes as the man carrying the letter walks past briskly.

"77, 78, 79, 80!"

"Drill Sergeant, sir!" the man carrying the letter greets, making the Drill Sergeant turn. "All the way from the top! Dispatch for one of your cadets!"

The Drill Sergeant takes the letter, looking it over as the man speaks in a disgusted tone.

"It's for him, sir."

He gasps before growling under his breath with a glare, refraining from crushing the letter in a rage.

The Sergeant stomps over to the nearby house-sized tent, ducking inside and looking around.

His eyes land on the man with blonde hair lounging, a glare taking over his expression as he shouts, "Cadet Johanssen!"

Jesper takes a sip of his latte, humming softly and waving his finger for him to stop. "Stop. Don't tell me, let me try to guess."

His eyes were covered by cucumbers as he sighs with boredom and lifts one, revealing one of his light blue eyes as his eyebrow raises.

"I give up. Who are you?" his eye land on the man, making him perk up and wave his hand holding the cucumber. "Sarge! Drill Sarge, have a seat, have a seat! Can I get you something to drink?"

He says in a musing tone, waving his butler over as the Sergeant approaches.

"An espresso? A cappuccino?"

The butler exchanges Jesper's empty cup for a fresh one, the Sergeant's eye twitching as a vein forms on his forehead from anger.

"Aren't you supposed to be in equestrian training?!" he bellows as Jesper nonchalantly sips on his drink.

"Mhm, mhm," Jesper agrees dismissively, waving his hand. "No worries. I've got someone covering for me," he smirks, pointing outside as he takes another sip.

The Sergeant looks outside with a glare, watching Jesper's horse walk slowly around with a training dummy on its back. It sniffs at a flower, snorting as it starts munching on it.

The Sergeant growls in anger before jerking the letter Jesper's way, "Dispatch from the Postmaster General's office!"

"What?" Jesper swiftly sits up with an eager look, turning to look up at the man. "Sarge, is that for real?" he chuckles, waving his finger. "Don't tease me now!"

Jesper grabs the letter, replacing it with his cucumber slices on the Sarge's hand, "Here, hold these."

He impatiently tears open the envelope, a wide grin spreading on his face as he reads the words.

"Ah, well. I was expecting this a little sooner," Jesper rises, stretching with a small grunt as he tosses the letter onto the lounging chair and adjusts his robes. "But, yep! Summoned to the Dragon's lair.

His butler offers another drink, Jesper taking it as he walks past the Sergeant.

"Go ahead and cancel the Drill Sergeant's espresso, actually," Jesper calls, waving his hand with a roll of his eyes and pausing. "And, uh, here. Why don't you finish mine? I'm not gonna be needing it anymore.

He sets the drink in the Sergeant's hand with an arrogant smirk, turning and walking to the exit. The Sergeant growls in anger, glaring after Jesper as he stops at the tent entrance.

"And I'm gonna take one last look around the old place so I can forget it," Jesper looks around casually as he smacks his lips, nodding. "Mhm. Got it. All right, let's go!"

The Sergeant snarls as he crushes the cup and cucumbers in his hands, following Jesper.

...

At the General's Office...

"Nine months..."

Jesper's father sighs, looking out the window with a stoic expression, hands tucked behind his back as he stands tall and proud.

"It's been nine months since I've used every ounce of my influence to get you i to the Royal Postal Academy."

Jesper rolls his eyes, slumping in his seat as he sets his hand on the cover over his salad, "Actually, nine months and six days. But who's counting?"

He raises the lid, frowning at the salad. "What, no croutons? Man, come on!" he whines as he sets it back down.

"Shall we take account of your progress, then?" Jesper's father continues, expression unreadable as he glances to the Sergeant.

"Mhm, mhm, mhm," Jesper shrugs, tying a napkin around his neck without glancing up. "Definitely."

"Sergeant." His father nods, motioning for him to speak.

"Yes, sir!" the Drill Sergeant firmly speaks with respect. "Sorting and filing..."

...

Men tuck away letters nicely, Jesper simply throwing them around with a bored, carefree expression.

"Total failure."

...

"Carrier pigeon care and handling..."

Mailmen release their birds with small packages and letters, Jesper throwing his carelessly, the package attached to the bird packed with too many items and weighing it down.

The bird struggles and shrieks as it falls due to the weight.

"Abysmal performance."

...

"Transport of fragile merchandise..."

Jesper whistles nonchalantly as he kicks the packages down the stairs, his hands tucked in his pockets as he passes the other men carefully carrying theirs.

"Worst on record."

...

"Well, there you have it," Jesper shrugs and rises. "But, hey, we gave it the old college try, didn't we?"

He smirks to himself, grabbing his latte cup.

"Guess I'll just go pack up and head home then. Too bad," Jesper waves a donut around, turning and walking towards the exit. "Darn, oh, darn."

"Stay right where you are." Jesper's father commands, Jesper halting before sighing and putting on an act.

"No, Dad! You're right," Jesper turns to him, pretending to scold himself. "When will I grow up?" he imitates his father, shaking his head. "When will I stop squandering all these opportunities?" Jesper pauses and murmurs under his breath, "Which... You so kindly forced me into." Before speaking up, "and become my own man?"

Jesper's father watches with an unamused expression, his hands folded behind his back.

"I guess I must really hanker down and rethink my priorities," Jesper grins blissfully to himself, sighing happily. "All wrapped up in my sink sheets with some caviar and a sherry... You still buy the same brand, right?"

He smirks with a shrug and turns and walks away, his father's eyebrows furrowing as he takes a step forward.

"You think I'm just going to watch you purposely fail and then let you waltz right back to a privileged life void of any purpose or meaning?" his father demands, approaching the large map in the center of the room.

"Well... yeah," Jesper raises a brow as he turns to his father, scoffing. "Where else would I--"

"Congratulations," his father interrupts, holding his staff up. "You are now a postman."

He sets it on the table against an envelope pawn, the Sergeant softly gasping with wide eyes as he looks over.

"C-- Come again?" Jesper stammers in disbelief, blinking rapidly.

"You are to establish a working postal office in..." his father pushes the pawn along the table, Jesper watching it with wide eyes as he holds his donut and latte.

The Sergeant looks over, his eyes following the pawn in horror while Jesper watches it closely, and Jesper's father stops it on a far away island.

"Smeerensburg. You've got one year."

"What?" Jesper demands in disbelief, "A year? Where, Smeerensburg? W-- What is... What's happening right now? Dad!?"

"Six thousand letters will suffice," his father continues without acknowledging his protests, setting down his staff. "Stamped by your own hand. And, listen carefully Jesper."

He slowly strides up to Jesper, looking down at his son with a no-nonsense glare.

"If you fail to get those letters... You're cut off," he lowers himself to his height as Jesper backs away, expression fearful and shocked. "No more fancy apartments," he takes Jesper's drink. "Stagecoach, clothes, galas," he continues as Jesper gasps, his donut snatched.

His father removes his napkin as Jesper tries to yank it back, backing against the wall.

"All gone. You can look forward to a cozy spot in the gutter," his father continues, emphasizing his words firmly.

"But--" Jesper stammers, cut off by his father speaking.

"Six thousand letters. One year," his father sternly speaks without breaking eye contact. "You can't cheat, bribe, or squirm your way out of this one."

Jesper's father glares down at his son as he rises to his full height, Jesper nervously smiling.

"Dad, come on!" he playfully punches his arm, putting on a buddy-buddy act. "It's me! Let's talk about this, man. It's your son!"

Jesper looks up at him with a small grin, "Little Jespie! Remember I..."

He makes his voice higher, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes.

"'Daddy, can I help you mail the letters?'" he quotes his past kid self, clutching his hands together. "'Can I help you put the medals in the letters and put them in a stamp with the--'"

...

"W-w-wait!" Jesper screams as he was tossed out, wearing his postman uniform.

The doors slam shut as he huffs angrily.

"Do you know how long it took to press this uniform?" he demands, dusting it off and pausing. "... I don't either. But it took somebody hours! Hello?"

Jesper groans in annoyance, turning around and gasping with a smile at the sight of his butler waiting on the carriage.

"Burghard! Finally, a friendly face! Can you believe what they--"

His butler urges the horses on, leaving Jesper behind and revealing a worn-down looking cart with a pony.

"Burghard! I'm not in the coach with you. Burghard?" Jesper calls after him, his eyes noticing the man holding the pony's reins.

He drops it, turning on his heel and walking away as Jesper groans.

...

Jesper's father looks out the window down at his son while shaking his head, his Sergeant clearing his throat.

"Sir... I'm all for discipline, but... Smeerensburg?" he nervously speaks. "Isn't that a bit excessive?"

He sighs heavily, frowning. "That boy needs a wake-up call, Sergeant. And... Who knows? Someday he might even thank me for it."

...

With Jesper...

"Thank you, Dad!" Jesper sarcastically yells, waving his hands to shoo the flies as his pony walks on. "This is really wonderful, Father. Thank you so much."

...

Jesper looks around at the grassy hills of nature, a scowl on his face. "This is great, Dad. Really, really, great."

...

He works on repairing the wheel of his wooden carriage, setting it aside and not noticing the wheel rolling until it was too late.

Jesper watches as it rolls down the mountains, growling.

"Thanks, Dad!"

...

Jesper grunts as he pushes the stuck carriage out of a hole as rain pours down on him, the water making him slip and face plant on the ground.

"Thank you!" he shouts as he jerks up.

...

His pony trudges down the snowy hills, a deep fog shrouding the area as Jesper continues complaining.

"I love this terrible coach ride. Thank you so much!"

Jesper rolls his eyes, "thank you, thank you, thank you, thank..."

He pauses, squinting to see ahead through the wall of fog as a small shack comes into view. With a confused frown, his eyes flicker to the boat in the water before he nods, stepping out of his carriage.

....

First chapter! :D

I completed the rest, so go on ahead and binge read it if you'd like! ❤❤

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