#paper promises

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom. Happy Valentine's Day!

Signed and Sealed

Sherlock wakes alone. He listens and hears John puttering in the kitchen. It’s clear that he’s making something special and not the normal tea and beans on toast. Then he remembers; it’s Valentine’s Day. John has promised to make the day special. Sherlock’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about the surprise on the mantle. It’s evident that John hasn’t found it yet, or he would probably have returned to the bedroom. He turns his head to gaze at his alarm clock. It’s hidden, he realises. An envelope is placed in front of it. Sherlock’s name is written in John’s familiar scrawl.

His focus narrows, and every sound disappears. He reaches out and takes the envelope in his hands, letting his thumb caress his name. The paper is thick, expensive, the colour a delicate ivory. It’s only sealed at the triangle end of the flap. Sherlock’s hands shake minutely when he brings his index finger under the flap to open the envelope. His pulse quickens, and he feels moisture in his palms. Slowly, he pulls out a thick piece of paper filled with John’s letters.

My only love

Were you surprised to find this letter? I hope so. Surprising you is an almost impossible feat, but I promise I’ll keep trying. 

Meeting you has changed my life in so many ways. In fact, you’ve saved my life by just being you. I find that quite remarkable. My annoyance with your antics notwithstanding, I will never ask you to change. 

The man I fell in love with, that is you, by the way, does store body parts in the fridge, the toaster, and on our kitchen table. But he also plays the most beautiful tunes on his Stradivarius, will punish anyone who dares to harm his beloved landlady, and he always makes me feel like the most important person in the room. 

I love you so much it hurts, but I welcome the pain. It makes me realise I’m alive, ready to follow you wherever you go, whether it’s over London’s rooftops, down dodgy alleyways, or walking hand in hand through Regent’s Park.

Always yours, John

Sherlock reads the card twice more, then presses it to his chest. It’s only then he realises that tears are running down his cheeks. He wants to call out to John; he needs to hold him in his arms. Now.

***

John wakes early, and to his relief, Sherlock is still asleep. He wants to kiss his forehead but refrains. Instead, he retrieves the envelope with Sherlock’s name written on it, from his drawer in the bedside table, and places it in front of Sherlock’s alarm clock. Carefully, so he won’t wake the gorgeous man, John goes to the bathroom, takes a quick shower, dresses in a t-shirt and soft pyjamas bottoms, before he walks into the kitchen to start breakfast. He’s promised to make this day special for Sherlock, and he intends to start with the day’s first meal. Scrambled egg, avocado, smoked salmon, and fried mushrooms.

When everything is ready, he puts the kettle on, and moves to the windows to observe the weather. Clear sky, as the forecast said. He turns to go back to the kitchen, when something catches his attention. There’s an envelope on the mantle. With his name on it. Written in elegant calligraphy letters. John’s heart leaps to his throat, and he picks up the item. At the back it’s securely sealed with golden wax. The bee image from the stamp John had bought Sherlock for his birthday, is situated precisely in the middle of the circle. John feels like a savage when he breaks it, but he’s eager to get to the treasure inside. 

The letter is larger than his own, and before he focuses on each word, he takes in the beauty of the elegantly formed script. Sherlock’s handwriting can sometimes be worse than every doctor John has encountered, but after a case where calligraphy had been the solution to a particularly difficult code, the great detective has been obsessed with the art form. John inhales deeply and focuses on the message from his madman.

My John

I once told you that I would be lost without my blogger. It is still true, but blogger is by far sufficient to describe you. What started out as a convenience on both our parts, soon evolved into something else. The pull I felt each time your blue gaze met mine, made me dizzy. It distracted me, and I told myself I should be irked by it, but I couldn’t for the life of me fathom how to push you away. Then I realised I didn’t want to. You became essential, a part of me I couldn’t bear to part from.

You are still an enigma, the puzzle I will never solve. It thrills me to no end, which contradicts everything I know about myself, but I promise you; it is the honest truth. 

Sharing my life with you is a privilege. Loving you is a daily honour. Being loved by you, still blows my mind. I sometimes think I am hallucinating or dreaming, but your solid presence tells me otherwise. You ground me, keep me right.

The pain that pierces my heart whenever you are in danger, is a reminder that I am human and very much alive. When I see the love in your eyes, a love directed at me, the pain changes into a dull ache. And by now I know what to call you – my heart, my world, my everything.

Forever yours, Sherlock

***

Before he can draw breath to call for John, he stands in the doorway, letter in hand. His eyes are bright, full of unshed tears.

“Come here,” Sherlock says softly.

John moves quickly toward the bed, clutching the letter tight.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs before their lips meet.

“And I you,” Sherlock tells him with every shared kiss.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[wrestlingwithwomenswromances]

Paper Promises And Promising Performances – Stephanie McMahon/Chyna

A/N: Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial 's latest prompt.

Paper promises. Chyna has heard that phrase a million times, but then she has never had to fight so hard to follow through on one. Stephanie, her Stephanie, has been trapped by her father for too long and when the chance comes, she knows she has to take it. Corporate. It feels wrong, she’s used to DX, to rebellion, fighting the McMahon family. She had never expected to fall for Stephanie, the sweet, stubborn, fierce daughter of Vince. She had, however, so now the paper promises, hopeful from Stephanie and doubtful from herself, are hers. She signed the corporation papers, taking the chance to woo Stephanie further, woo her away from her father’s side to her own. She had proposed, of course, right after ending the reign of DX, of X-Pac and Triple H, her former beau. The man had never seen it coming, of course, he had always paid little attention to where she went when she left DXs home, but she takes the advantage. Marriage is another paper promise, but the promising performances she put in as a member of the Corporation meant she would never have to worry about letting Stephanie down ever again.

[fennfromthefen]

cw implied death

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Those damn words echoed in Jody's mind again, refusing to leave. They played regularly on days like these. The calm, peaceful days that should be happy. Would be happy if she could forget him. Memories were folded neatly into every corner of the house, just taunting her with what she'd never get back. Books he'd read filled the bookshelf next to her, only outnumbered by books he never got the chance to read. That little elephant statue he'd bought in a charity shop because of the pattern on its back decorated the top middle shelf. He loved that elephant. Jody ran her fingertips over it, feeling the smooth, cold outline of its body. Those words played out in her head again, this time accompanied by the scene of him saying them. She pulled her hand away from the elephant.

It would be easier just to forget him. Her eyes scanned the room, largely unchanged since the event's day. Wouldn't have to deal with all... this.

His favourite spot on the sofa, his favourite spot to put his little bowl of peanuts while watching the telly, his laugh when his favourite jokes were told on screen. All useless tidbits and trivia now. She wanted to bring herself to hate him and every last memory. All she'd have to do was focus on all the little habits she had hated for long enough. His not-quite-snoring, his bad jokes, his vanity over his hair. But the room seemed to quiet at night now, and nobody could quite mess up a joke so effortlessly as he could. Jody removed the plan from her head, instead looking down at the ring still on her finger. The jolly 'I'll be back in a bit' entered her mind again. 3 months and still waiting.

[colection-of-chaos]

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Hope and Wating

There had always been a thing about waiting that irked Dillon; it was the way the memory of what he was expecting tended to ingrain itself into his mind. Unrelentingly reminding him of what was to come or what he lacked until it happened. 

No matter what he did, it wouldn't leave him alone. 

His destain for waiting had gotten even worse since he had gotten his last promise. 

It had been on a piece of old paper that he was pretty sure belonged to some book somewhere that hadn't been owned by the person that had written it, but rather some poor library book. A person that hadn't been supposed to be anywhere near Dillon's room or even the town he resided in currently.

No, Auden was supposed to be far away learning the art of pouring over books and being a stuck-up asshole. He was supposed to write notes in one of the unbelievably expensive notebooks and mingle with nobles that had questions. 

Auden had also been supposed to have forgotten Dillon pretty fast after leaving.

Even when he had still lived in one of the most expensive houses in the town, Dillon had honestly expected the other boy to get tired of him every minute. But he hadn't instead ha had listened to Dillon's rants about the last trip into the forest to get some herbs his grandmother needed, had told Dillon about the names of the stars and the former they were supposed to form or about some important person that had lived long ago, the latter of which honestly hadn't particularly interested Dillon, but he had enjoyed listening to Auden, sometimes Auden had complaint about his teachers and how boring some of the things he had to learn. 

Auden also had taught Dillon how to read and write, a thing Dillon would have never thought he would be able to learn. 

Not that there was a lot Dillon would ever have to write or read; most of the people in town were illiterate, and every shop was if there was any writing at all on their signs equipped with some kind of symbol informing everyone about what exactly the shop was selling. And ink and paper were expensive.

But he has figured out that he could get the odd job writing one of the sings or reading a letter to the other people in town which was rather helpful when the town hadn't had enough injuries and illnesses or was generally too poor to spend either a bit of food or the odd coin on his grandmothers services.

Which was a blessing considering that it was not all that easy to live of the odd bit of berries and wild wheat he and she were able to find in the woods, and only living of herb porridge was not particularly enough to get an old woman and a growing boy to make ends meet. Even if the boy had a friend with a tendency to try and share his own wealth with him.

And that had been what Auden had always done tried to get them to make ends meet had acted as if he had just taken too much of the snack someone had given him for longer walkers though the forest and had offered the 'rests' to Dillon instead, because he knew Dillon would avoid taking any alms if he could really avoid it.

It hadn't been hard to fall for Auden. Not because he was rich or well-educated, at least in matters that didn't have a lot to do with survival, except maybe fighting, even if he certainly was that, but because he was kind, and he hadn't just lost his fancy for the grandson of the local herbalist. Even if Dillan wore mostly clothes his father had worn when he himself had been nothing but a boy and his greater interest in life was helping out his grandmother or maybe learning her trade to someday take over.

To Dillon's surprise, Auden had fallen for him too; that was what he had told Dillon at least when he had gotten the note he would be sent away for further studies, unable to keep it to himself any longer.

They had had a couple of weeks to sneak around, in which they had kissed a couple of times, before Auden had left. And the happiness Dillon had felt with him, the freedom of the fear and responsibility that had always lifted when he had been around the other boy with him.

And then two nights ago there had been a page in between his window frame and window, certainly of a book, because he had been able to see some of the lettering through the white paint someone had smeared over it, but more importantly there had been a promise. In the handwriting, Dillon knew so well, had he not followed its appearance so often during writing lessons with Auden.

It was a promise of returning, of being there and making sure no one would ever separate them again. It sounded too good to be true. If Dillon was totally honest with himself, then he had believed Auden had already gotten over his fancy, for Dillon had left and either found another brighter boy of the same sanding as Auden, or he had figured out that another man wasn't actually what he wanted and that Dillon was just some challenge.

But no, there it was Auden's handwriting and a promise that seemed too good to be true.

Dillon hated waiting, even more though he feared that this was just some big miss understanding that there was someone else in the town that the letter was meant for. Not that Dillon would ever doubt Auden's loyalty or the fact that he was the kindest and sincere person Dillon knew, but certainly he wasn't really worth Auden's love. 

This time he didn't hate waiting because he hated the expectation clinging to his mind. He hated waiting because he didn't know if he dared to hope. Because the fear that Auden would chance his mind or that the promise was just a miss understanding was making it hard to focus on anything else.

Note

Hi, I’m back. I sadly had a lot on last week and couldn’t really work with the prompt back than wich annoyed me but now I’m back.

I hope you liked this text I’m still not comfortable with writing love stories but this is what felt wire even if I’m not completely happy with the result.

Hope you have a good week and I would be happy about feed back and constructive criticism.

Hopefully see you next week!

[jack-of-crowns]

@flashfictionfridayofficial

'Then As It Was, Then Again It Will Be' by @jack-of-crowns

14 February 1825

I read and re-read those last letters, treasuring the ruffles and flourishes from that bold hand as though graven on sacred plates instead of a fading stack of foolscap. Rare are the nights when the dulled purples of ink once again blaze silver in my finger's tracing of your quillstrokes; in those small hours I remember our love then as it was, now that the day of your ill-starred marriage is ten years gone.

Yes, my love, I know that the spins of Rota Fortunae are fickle and that her merciless wheel grinds even the hardiest of men to dust. Would that I had been able to brake the whirlings of dark despair upon which you revolved in those days! These paper promises I make to your ghost bring but small consolation, but on this day especially, I find my own shredded thoughts enmeshed as surely as the ragged scraps from which the very paper I pen them upon was moulded, and so write I must.

"But still for living wit the wreaths may bloom."

How well I remember those words as Robert spoke them that night and how I wish to look out over the audience every night at Drury Lane to once again spy your handsome face amongst them! The laurels may have faded at Hucknall, but thanks to your direction and everlasting love, my fellow thespians have managed to turn the dessicated playbills and programs of grief into bright sprigs of narcissus and squill to brighten the depths of our wintered souls.

The gyres and gravitations of this life may have parted us, dearest George, but I felt your presence strongly when I visited the shipyards in Rotherhithe this past week. A golden eagle soared high aloft in blue skies above our coach, and all of the passengers marveled at the sight of this nobleman of the air, wings splayed in a triumphant vee. I know the romantic in your heart flew as proudly as did he.

Rarely were you of a more grounded and practical mind, but there is an entirely new class of steam-powered warship being laid down there, and soon it will see service in the cause of liberty to which you so gallantly gave your life. According to the blueprints which the shipwrights kindly showed me, she will be named 'Karteria' or 'Perseverance' if you like, and surely she will turn the tides of war in our favour. My dedication to our cause persists unabated, as does my love for you, as evidenced by the copious iron gall spilled in these confessions.

You are ever the lord of my heart, for like that eagle you and I were born of the same nest, in that we both yearned to fly away from this stickly muck and toward a higher destiny, though your course was to be one of fame and privilige, while my name must forever remain unknown, as will these pages bearing silent witness to our mutual affections. Now I beseech your spirit, part from me not unless we may once more wing together in some more tolerable realm, and I will hold fast until then again it will be a place and time where such as we may thrive.

Your beloved Valentine,

J.

[renee-writer]

Just a Letter

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial #292 prompt: Paper Promises

Just a letter

That is what they thought

Written by a Roman prisoner

What harm could it do?

No way it could help change the world,

Right?

Just another letter

Written to a small congregation

In a small Roman province

It wouldn't go any farther

Would it?

Just a letter

The promise of an eternity

Spent with God

Written on parchment

A promise on paper

A series of letters that would help change the world.

[puppppppppy]

renaissance dogys

characters belong to @canisalbus

[triona-tribblescore]

I WANNA DRAAWW!! RAHHHGG!! Absolutely swamped with college work, im so tired TT (hence whatever tf this is lmao)

[heartorbit]

bugs when you lift up a rock

[benevolenterrancy]

Scholarly peak is catching up on recent literature

[antennabot]

BEHOLD A BUNCH OF PAYJAY GIJINKAS I DREW LIKE RIGHT AFTER THE FINALE BUT DIDN'T HAVE THE ENERGY TO POST FOR SOME REASON

this one is a redraw of my old gijinkas from 2022!! time flies!

[ghostorbz]

My September

yt link

[pumpumkins]

just some coop experience unmiquellas your radahn* oh he just an animal enjoyer

[turtletoads]

diversity win! the captain of the infinity is gay

[yoshijammer]

if you're still doing the Paper Mario sketch requests, I think it would be fun to see Vivian interacting with Luigi (and maybe even his dog, the Polterpup)

I am SO sorry for the delay!! I thought I would be able to get back to these quickly but I got busy and also may have caught some art block. I think I'm better now.

I know Luigi not getting respect is a running gag of Paper Mario, but I always felt like Mario and his partners falling asleep during Luigi's storytime was out of character. I think Vivian in particular would take interest in Luigi, and Luigi would get along well with her too (despite her ghost-like ability to hide in shadows). Adding Polterpup to this was fun! I think Vivian would love him, but they'd sometimes give Luigi a scare.

The lighter sketch in the top right is basically an abridged version of a small comic I roughly sketched out for this, but I scrapped it because it didn't really make sense and I suddenly forgot how to draw Luigi. The sketch in the bottom left came from me wanting to fill in the space, then realizing I never explored the fact they both have siblings, but have a very different relationship with them.

Thanks to everyone for being patient with me! I will begin work on the next one tomorrow, I hope I can finish them much sooner!

[mydairpercabeth]

Annabeth shifting her unwavering loyalty from Athena to Percy just because Percy was actually there for her while Athena intentionally put her in danger for something someone else did