doodling on the back of an envelope

I often draw simple, seasonal doodles on the envelopes of the letters I send to a friend. I am a wretched artist, but my little illustrations make her smile, and that’s more than worth making a bit of a fool out of myself.

I am currently in the very nascent stages of teaching myself how to do simple hand-lettering because I think it looks really cool, and more importantly, it can be done without using any materials that would cause the prison’s mailroom staff to deem the envelope contraband. (like glue, glitter, crayon, stickers, or marker.)

After much practice (and cussing) here is the back of an envelope which I added a bit of lettering to so it would look SLIGHTLY less like a preschool art project. I’m proud of how the lettering turned out!

Noodling 1

[1 of 3 bits I made while out for sushi a little while back, not my best, but I figure I might as well put it up anyway. Been too inactive]

Bless their
festering
blustery
flesh,
birthday bash
bring back hashtags
by smashing hard won social justice
feckless folk flashing crack
to offend, draw flack,
philosophical Aflac
duck and dodge,
doge
dogging arbitrarily,
dogged flogging,
to provide, to find
something to fight for
something unkind
moored, obscured;
the black inactive mind

pluto-support  asked:

Do you have any tips for keeping a journal? (I saw some pictures of yours, at least I think it's a journal haha)

not a ton of good ones!! but a few haha:

1.) post it notes!!! i like to write my thoughts and the time on them, then i can put them wherever i feel in my journal!

2.) i make a lot of lists! bucket lists and stuff but more so like, ,. favrite rocks!!! and colors! and herbs and stuff too

3.) also i like to draw plants and smol doodles

4.) don’t worry about it to much! a bad page isn’t going to hurt your journal , and focus more on how it makes you feel then if it’s pretty or tumblr worthy. lots of my pages are only text or really bad bus doodles!

5.) i’ll save lots of scraps too that i enjoy and keep them in a lil envelope in the back of my journal, that way I can use them whenever!

“This doesn’t concern you,” she snaps heatedly, “You’ve never cared before, what makes me think you’d care now?” Silence follows her words, and Mikasa scoffs, stung even as she expects nothing less. She turns to leave.

She’s surprised, however, when she’s suddenly jerked back, arms enveloping her from behind. Mikasa stiffens, too startled to resist- because in all the years she’s known him, never once has Levi touched her so openly, nor intimately. He leans into her, pressing closely. He sighs, and she feels his breath ghost over her skin.

“I care,” he murmurs quietly into her shoulder, “much more than you think.”

-

Rivamika doodle, and drabble :)

BTS Reaction: You drawing them while they sleep.

Thank you so much for your request! I’m glad you’ve liked my work so far, I hope this lives up to your expectations. <3 Further requests and feedback can be sent here.

Jungkook

Jungkook would be a little flustered that you were drawing him sleeping, all messy-haired with that little bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. “Aish, pabo, can’t you draw me when I look good?” However, when he saw how talented you were, he’d get really excited and pull out his own collection and share his own experiences with drawing.
“Can I draw you now?”

Jin

When Jin opened his eyes and he saw you sitting next to him on the bed with your little notebook and a pencil forcefully going at it, he’d figured you were drawing. He tried to pretend he was still sleeping, opening his right eye slightly so that he could look at you through his bangs. You were focused with your tongue between your lips, your eyes shifting from his lips to the paper.
“Do I look beautiful?” He’d tease, caressing his own cheek and fluttering his eyes with that dumb, smug look on his face.
You’d blush and pull your notebook to your chest, but he’d just pull you in and kiss you before grabbing the notebook.
“Jagiya, this is really good! You should draw me some more.”
You didn’t want to admit how often you’d drawn him while cooking, brushing his teeth and similar activities, so you just blushed at the sight of his impressiveness.

Jimin

You weren’t even at home when you had grabbed your paper to draw sleeping Jimin. You had joined them at practice, watching them perfect their new choreography before their manager told them to take a break. Jimin was exhausted as he walked over to you and threw himself on the big bunk of bags and jackets.
“I’ll just take a little nap.” He muttered and smiled with his eyes closed.
All the little lines on his face captivated you as you began drawing him. When he woke up to the sight of you gently drawing what looked like strands of hair, he immediately rushed to see what you were drawing.
“Y/N, what’s this? You never told me you could draw!”
He’d be so excited, showing the drawing to both the other BTS members and the crew while you hid your face in your palms. He wouldn’t stop talking about it and as they began dancing he’d yell something along the lines of “Can you draw me now? Draw me now!”
“Jimin, you’re dancing…”
“Draw me now, I look cool!”
“Jimin, this is too fast…”
“Draw me, Y/N!”

Hoseok

You were relaxing in the living room with his feet in your lap when you noticed that Hoseok had fallen asleep during your Netflix marathon. The movie was boring anyway, so you decided to pull your notebook out and start drawing Hoseok. You had almost finished the drawing when he woke up and asked you what you were doing in his sultry, after-nap voice. You embarrassingly admit that you were drawing when he got up in the speed of a lightning, grabbing the notebook out of your hands.
“Wow!” he’d burst out.
“That looks like me, but better?”
You laughed and denied, particularly the ‘better’-part. He’d continue praising you for the longest time, hanging all your drawings in his room. He’d kept one special one that you’d drawn of the two of you as the sun and moon in his wallet.

Namjoon

You were with Namjoon in his room as he’d just taken a break from producing. He threw himself across you and was quick to fall asleep. You had already finished the drawing and had moved on to some slight coloring as he woke up to see your brows all furrowed and your mouth all small and tight.
“What’s up, baby girl? Did I fall asleep?”
“Only for 45 minutes now.”
“Oh shit.”

He’d get up and sit back in the chair, you exhaling all relieved that he didn’t see your drawing.
“Wait, what were you doing?”
You’d hesitate, but you’d show him the drawing and he was both flustered that you had drawn him, but also incredibly impressed.
“Y/N, wow! You should do some concept art for us or you could draw the album cover and we could have it digitalized or you could…”
“Oppa, I’m not that good…”
“Are you kidding me, this is even better than Jungkook’s drawings!”

Yoongi

It was late in the night and Yoongi was asleep next to you. You couldn’t sleep for the life of you and after a good hour of taking in his beauty and his features in the dark, you thought you’d tire yourself out by drawing. You didn’t even mean to draw him, but he was there and beautiful and laced within your heart. You were trying not to be noisy, but when you re-adjusted and accidentally pushed over an empty glass from the nightstand, Yoongi was quick to wake up.
“Y/N? What happened?”
“Sorry, I pushed the glass over, it’s fine.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
He’d reach his arm out to pull you next to him as he felt the corner of the notebook poke his stomach.
“What’s this?”
When he saw what you had drawn, he’d sit up and be in awe. He wouldn’t even focus too much on the drawing of him, but rather go through all of your drawings as you blushed and cringed next to him.
“I didn’t even know you could draw, Y/N. This could be in an art exhibit.”
“Don’t be silly.”
The rest of the night would be spent pillow talking about how you got into drawing, what kinds of drawing you liked to do, why you hadn’t pursued an art career and so forth. He’d be really practical and curious in his way of expressing that he was impressed, rather than flustered and loud.

Taehyung

You were in the tour bus with BTS when they had all fallen asleep strangely intertwined with each other, Taehyung enveloped between you and Jungkook. You were drawing him all messily in Jungkook’s arms when he woke up to the notebook poking his thighs. He’d smile at you as he watched you through his bangs, thinking that you were doodling or writing. He’d watch you like that for a while until he noticed how your eyes kept shifting back and forth. He’d lift his upper body so that he was sitting upright, looking at you and down on your paper.
“Jagiya, is that me?”
You’d blush and try to retreat, but he’d grabbed the paper and would be silently impressed until he became super loud about it.
“Guys look, Y/N drew this! Wow Jagiya, this is so amazing!”
He’d be so excited about it and although he’d definitely ask you to draw him more, he’d also just include it in your daily life, taking pictures of beautiful scenery or cute puppies and texting you about how he’d think it would be beautiful if you drew it.

snail mail pal?

My name is Dana and I’m looking for a pen pal to write letters back and forth with! I really want to make cute letters on pretty stationary and draw little pictures and decorate envelopes and all that to send to someone!   

**My interests are** Animals, cute things like plushies, the color pink, baking, movies (Disney is my favorite) reading, (I love Jane Eyre) making crafts, painting, doodling, and photography.   

**I am looking for**
Someone artsy, preferably 18+
as I want to discuss lots of aspects of my life and some of them aren’t appropriate for younger people. I don’t care about gender, but some shared interests are a must! As long as you’re nice, we’ll get along just fine! Hopefully I can find someone else who wants to write letters about their dreams and about their day and make little gifts for each other. 

 If you are looking to contact me my tumblr URL is liquorpink.tumblr.com/ 
and my kik is Dana.del.Rey

Father and son.

They paced around, inky tears spilling out, shaking raking their body.

My lord my lord my lord–

Shut up!

It all had a echo, it was terrible, pounding, pounding. Somewhere, he was back again, axe in hand. He was getting closer, closer, closer, like a sacrificial lamb. He didn’t know anything. He didn’t know anything.

They wished they could just be hugged again, be enveloped in someone’s arms, wish that he’d just stop running.

They miss the days he’d look at them, his doodle, with smiles, like a father, doting. He didn’t know they were sentient, maybe, but he treated them well. That’s all they ever asked for.

For once, I need you, Henry.

They wondered that if he’d stop running, if they could be like father and son.

The Turnabout

Nico as a half vampire, half human. Turning from Day Class to Night Class.

I started this drawing back in June and only managed to finish it in October. I thought it was appropriate to give it a split of ink, since- Inktober. But that was my intention already when I started it. I like to think the black is fire as well as darkness enveloping him while he turns to the night side.

You can see the Midnight Cross AU’s stories and other drawings here.

Accidental Romance - Special {Charming Daddy}

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 Special

Special – Charming Daddy

Gigantic fluffs of snow bestowed earthly grounds and glass windows with frosts of the lingering winter season.  It was two weeks passed New Years; two months since Tao and your second wedding anniversary.  With the sun shied back into the shadows, roads lit with the subdued luminance of streetlamps and Christmas string lights, long overdue to be taken down.

The young toddler hopped onto the carpeted baby steps and up onto the bed.  Flashing her newly erupted teeth, her smile tickled the depths of your heart with utter honeyed tenderness.  You patted your lap and she eagerly climbed into her mother’s welcoming embrace.  In the warm nest, the baby bunny blinked her sharp pearly eyes up in anticipation for story time.

“Once upon a time,” you began as you flipped open her favorite picture book.  Her little toes wiggled enthusiastically within her fuzzy socks.  “A young maiden watched as her fairytale prince married another really beautiful girl.”  BeiBei frowned.  “She thought that all her dreams had drifted away…until in front of a very extravagant wishing well, God bestowed her with a miracle – a rainbow after the rain.  She met a super handsome prince, destined to be her knight in shining armor, who was…also really good with poker…” you giggled shyly as your daughter ogled at a picture of Tao and you liplocked in front of the infamous wishing well.

“Daddy!” the little girl exclaimed.  “Mummy!”  She pointed at your cheeks that still tinged in marigold amidst the evening shade.  

“Mmhm…” you nodded, “It was love at first sight.”

“La-bu at furst sight?” BeiBei innocently repeated; her eyes sparkled with gold as if she had just discovered a long lost treasure.

“Mmhm.  And then we created you,” you playfully tapped her cute button nose.  “Just like how Mommy fell in love with Daddy at first sight, she also fell deeply in love with her precious BeiBei at first sight.”

Her miniature hands clapped joyously at your explanation; silky bangs bounced up and down against her smooth forehead.  “BeiBei la-bu Mummy doo!”  Despite being blessed with her presence everyday, her cherubic expressions never ceased to melt you into a puddle of jelly.

“Does BeiBei love Daddy?” you questioned as you kissed her soft rosy cheeks.

She quickly nodded.  “BeiBei la-bu Mummy and Daddy!  BeiBei will only la-bu Mummy and Daddy!”

You parted your lips to respond but a rush of acid commanded your palms to cup over your mouth to suppress your recent nausea.  The sweet princess blinked and worriedly stood up on twos to examine you.  Two light indentations sunk into the mattress, where she waddled over for balance.

“Mommy’s okay,” you responded as you stroked your chest.  Still, she eyed you with skepticism – a look you were sure she learned from her father.  Your cheeks dusted in amaryllis pink as you closed the photo storybook and brought BeiBei to face you so you could study her reaction.  “Honey…” you started, habitually looping a strand of hair behind your ear.  “If Mommy and Daddy bring home a baby brother or sister, will you love him or her just as much as you love us?”

She blinked and squeezed the unicorn plushie in her arms.  You lifted a palm over your still flat tummy and like an enchanted spell, the corners of your lips automatically curled upward in heartfelt bliss.  Her tiny hands followed and rested on top of your abdomen.

“That’s your baby sibling,” you explained.  “She or he will grow in Mommy’s tummy for eight more months and then arrive to play with BeiBei.”

Her mouth slowly opened wide.  Both palms pressed against your belly as if gifting the little baby a pre-welcoming massage.  There was no doubt in your mind that BeiBei would be a great big sister.  You kissed the top of her head as she babbled away at how she’d teach the baby the magic coin trick her father had thought her last week.

Nodding and giggling, you wordlessly listened as the hyper toddler counted down her bucket list.  The hands of the clock revolved around, ticking away time.  As her lashes swayed ever so sleepily, you gently cradled her into your arms and tucked her into the blankets.  With the click of a switch, vibrant lights dimmed into soft glows.  You slipped under the covers as well, thankful that BeiBei warmed up the empty space.

An hour later, the doorknob quietly turned.  A beam of light rushed into the dark room to announce Tao’s presence.  As quiet as possible, he tiptoed over to admire his queen and little princess.  Despite his desire to spend more time with the two of you, work requirements often strayed him away to different cities and countries.

With a content sigh, the young father rested his anxious heart through soundlessly listening to the tranquility of BeiBei and your light breathing.  Each rise and fall of your chest comforted him with much needed serenity.  The wrinkles along his face evened out as he bent over and planted a sweet kiss along both your foreheads.

“ZiTao…ZiTao-ah…” you habitually called in your sleep.  It made his heart clench.

“I’m here,” he automatically responded.  His long fingers brushed your temples and naturally ran down your hair.

When you whispered his name once more, Tao could no longer bear the distance.  Slipping off his shoes, he climbed onto the bed and brought the two of you into his embrace.  His chest was cozy and warm, just what you needed on a frigid winter night.  You snuggled in closer, allowing his protection to soothe your fatigue and lull you to a sweet slumber.

You woke up the next morning to the sound of chopping noises coming from the kitchen.  Tussling your hair, you sluggishly slid out of bed, tucked your daughter back under the covers, and trudged off to greet your mother-in-law.  But instead of her slim and petite figure, the resident chef mirrored a tall and well-built physique.  Rubbing your growling tummy, you blinked several times in case your longing for your busy husband had granted you illusions.  Still, the image of him chopping green scallions and stirring the pot remained crystal clear.  

“ZiTao!” you gasped.  Automatically, your feet skipped against polished floor over to him.  In split moments, you tossed your arms around him from behind and squeezed every fiber out of his soul.  His much larger palms stroked the back of yours.

“Hey,” he greeted with a gentleness that melted your heart.

As soon as the first sniffle sounded, Tao immediately dropped his culinary assignment to focus his attention completely onto you.  He spun around and instantly encased you back into his tight caress.

“I’m sorry,” your husband apologized.  You shook your head within his chest.  “I’m always working and neglecting you,” he continued.  You shook your head again.

In all honesty, Tao had only been gone for five days on a business trip.  You weren’t really sure why you missed him so dearly.  Perhaps, your prenatal hormones were playing tricks on your emotions.  He leaned in for a quick peck.

“Has my little princess been behaving while I’m gone?” the father questioned as he admired the newly sketched crayon doodles across the kitchen walls.

“Woops, let me wash that.  She must have drawn on it late last night,” you commented, rubbed your tummy, and proceeded to head to the cabinets for cleaning supplies.  But Tao grabbed your hand and pulled you back over to him.  His arms enveloped your small frame and chin rested on top of your head as he swayed you from side to side.

“Let’s leave it there.  Our BeiBei is a Picasso in the making,” he proudly stated.  His breath tickled the hairs of your ear so that you couldn’t help but giggle.  “…Though…what is that supposed to be?”

You peeped your head out to follow his gaze.

“Um…” you scratched your head while Tao tilted his.  “I think a duck…”

“Ducks have four legs?” he asked dumbfounded.

“Maybe…” you sheepishly replied.

He rubbed his temples and shook his head.  “Wifey, stop letting BeiBei hang out with Wu YiFan!”

“Heh…” you rubbed your neck.

Just then, tiny sporadic footsteps stumbled down the stairs.  Tao and you turned around to see BeiBei waddling down with one arm hugging her stuff animal friend and the other rubbing her still closed eyes.  Instantly, Tao flashed a toothy smile and opened her arms wide.

Like you, the toddler froze in place and blinked several times.  Rolling her hands into fists, she continued to rub her eyes over and over again.  “Daddy!” she squealed and barreled down the stairs.

“Be careful!” you warned but the caring father was already on the case.

He leapt faster than a cheetah to swoop his baby girl safely within his arms before she even had the chance to fall.  “Xiao Baobei-ah, did you miss Daddy?” Tao questioned as he playfully rocked her from left and right.  She shrieked and squealed; every high-pitch note was music to your ears.  Similarly, to Tao, it gave him the incentive to his notorious tickle war.

With eyes widened at his silly wiggling brows and clawing hands, you grabbed BeiBei out of his arms and tried to dash off.  But your athletic skills were nothing compared to that of the martial artist.  He caught you easily so that both your daughter and you toppled onto the floor, squealing and giggling from the ruthless tickles.

“ZiTao!” you yelped as he numbed every cell within your body under his touch.  You curled over in defeat.

“One down, one more to go!  Muahahaha!” he chuckled as he cornered the runaway princess.

“Mummmmy!  Help!” her baby voice sung before she fell victim to Tao’s attacks.

“Coochy coochy coo!” the handsome father grinned as his daughter erupted in uncontrollable giggles.    

Despite regaining stamina, you turned into a puddle at the heartwarming scene.  Tao never neglected you and definitely not BeiBei.  Yet, still, to this day, every father and daughter interaction took your breath away.  They were two peas in a pod – trouble makers disguised as little pandas.  As you pondered and daydreamed, you didn’t notice that the giggles had slowly ceased and was replaced by an onslaught of whispers.  Soon enough, they teamed up and advance toward you.

You gasped but any attempts of escape were futile – the father and daughter duel had you cornered.  Two mirrored goofy expressions briefed you with a split second warning before their combo attack left you withering in a heap.  Amidst laughter, squirms, and attempting to wiggle away from their grasp, you let out a hiss.  Your palms pressed against your abdomen.  Immediately, your assailants ceased their offense.  Tao picked BeiBei up and off of you.

“Are you okay?  Where are you hurt?” your husband apprehensively asked with his palms cupping your face.

Your lips clamped in attempts to suppress your nausea.  With a weak smile, you patted your chest and shook your head to calm his worry.  Yet, your colorless cheeks left him anxious and frightened.  Slipping his arms under your knees, your husband expertly lifted you off the ground and carried you over to the living room couch.  BeiBei tottered and tailed behind.

“Are you feeling sick?” Tao questioned as he placed the back of his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.  You shook your head.  “You’re slightly pale…” he noted, took off his jacket, and wrapped it around you to warm you up.  But you were already completely warm and fuzzy under his tender, love, and care.

“ZiTao-ah…” you shyly lowered your head and called.  You hadn’t expected him to return home early from his business trip; hence, your lack of preparation for the pregnancy announcement.

“Hm?” your husband brought your head in to rest against the nape of his neck.  An arm draped protectively around you.  With his other hand, he aided in BeiBei’s climb up to his lap.

“…um…” you bit your lip and picked at a loose thread on his jacket.  Your hesitancy only escalated Tao’s anxiousness.  “…What…what if we…what if we welcome another member into the family?”

His chest stopped rising up and down.  Your heart began to race in anticipation.  Since the pregnancy of BeiBei had been unexpected and burdened by countless obstacles, you never really had the chance to watch his reaction.  The two of you had mentioned wanting another child in the future but was this too fast?  Would another baby stress him out even more?  Endless thoughts raided your vulnerable mind with every passing moment that Tao remained frozen and speechless.      

Finally, he sighed.  “I tried talking to Ma, hoping she’d leave the Huang Manor to stay with us, but she won’t.  She was really happy and grateful for your offer though.”      

This time, it was your turn to stare in confusion.  “No…no…not Ma.”  You scratched your head.

“Hm?” Tao frowned.

“Er…”

“Oh!” he exclaimed and almost leapt out of his seat as if a light switched on in his brain.

With twinkling eyes and a widened smile, you pressed a palm against Tao’s chest to help elevate yourself to an upright position and scrutinize his expression better.

“Did your asthma exam come back completely clean?!  Are we finally going to be able to adopt Candy?!  I’m going to call the pet store right now!” your husband’s felin-shaped eyes diminished to mere arches as he hopped onto his feet and scurried over to the phone.  His little shadow princess followed along.

“Wa-wait…waii…t…” you stuttered and hid your face within your palms.

Was this really supposed to be this hard?  Obviously, you didn’t want to announce something so big in a simple way but Tao wasn’t getting it.  With a pout, you tossed yourself against the sofa pillows and brainstormed for better ideas.      

Two days later – yes, after two days of hinting that you were pregnant, Tao remained clueless, you came up with a splendid idea.  Giggling to yourself, you sneakily nabbed BeiBei from the playpen, tiptoed soundlessly pass your husband’s office, and scurried into the bedroom.

“Mummmmy,” your daughter playfully swung her little legs.

“BeiBei,” you grinned as you ruffled her hair.  “Mommy got a new shirt for you!”

“Nuu~”

Weak to her cuteness, you bent over and retrieved a hidden box from underneath the bed.  She clapped her toddler hands together and flipped open the lid to reveal a half pink – half blue sweater that read, “I’m going to be a big sister!”

That oughta do it!

The little girl obediently slipped the shirt on.  Beaming, you picked her up and settled on the living room sofa for your weekly family movie night.  Tao strolled in several minutes later, dressed casually in a black tee and glasses that always had the ability to make you swoon.  Instantly, you flushed over in colors so vibrant even the heavenly rainbows would feel ashamed.  He tossed you a smirk, which only heated everything up.  You succumbed to paralysis as he picked BeiBei up onto his lap and sat down.

One.

Two.

Three.

Your poor heart thumped so loudly within your chest, you couldn’t even hear Tao’s question about what movie you wanted to watch.  He noticed it – he must have noticed the shirt!  He stared right at BeiBei!  How did he not notice?!  Gripping the fabric of the sofa, you turned to him in earnest skepticism.  Was he just messing with you?  Better yet, was BeiBei his accomplice and this was some prank?  Narrowing your eyes, you scanned the area for any hidden cameras.  There were none.  Back to Tao, he still seemed oblivious with a remote in one hand and his lengthy limbs crossed.

“Is Paradoxical Harmony okay, Babe?” he asked as he surfed through Netflix.  “Babe?” he questioned again when there was no response.

“Uh…uh yeah…” you managed to squeeze out without your vocal cords shaking.

“Great.  I heard the plotline is hilarious,” he commented as he set up the projector.

Your eyes followed his every move.  Again, he picked his baby back up and plopped down onto the sofa.  Oh my…God…

“Nice sweater, BeiBei,” he complimented as he brushed his fingers across the smooth wool.  “Did Mommy get it for you?”    

Your blood pressure skyrocketed.  This was it.  Finally…finally after so many failed announcements…this one would go down in history!  Too anxious to even look at Tao, you kept your eyes glued to the screen.

Any moment now…

Any…

Moment…

Tao erupted into an obnoxious cackle.  Grimacing, you turned around to realize his complete absorption into the movie.  “The cat pooped on her!” he laughed as he pointed onto the screen.  BeiBei mimicked her father.

“Huang ZiTao!” you heard your exasperated voice hiss.

“Hm?” he hummed, still laughing uncontrollably at the plotline.

He turned around to face your look of disappointment.

“Hm?” he repeated, this time more serious.  He dialed the volume down and waited for you to speak.  When you slumped your shoulders and remained quiet, Tao paused the entire video to give you his undivided attention.  “Something the matter?”

Even though you knew it was trivial matter, your lips uncharacteristically rippled.  Tao caught the glossiness of your eyes and immediately sat up straight.

“Wifey?” he reached a hand out but you recoiled back into your shell.

“Nothing,” you shook your head and tried to take the remote control from his hand so that the movie could take the attention away from your emotional endeavor.  Tao hid the controller behind his back.

“What happened?” he drilled.

“Nothing, ZiTao.  Just continue the movie,” you downplayed.

“Don’t ‘Nothing’ me.  I know when something is wrong,” he sternly spoke – a little too sternly for your sensitive, prenatal hormones.

“Just continue the movie.  I’m getting sleepy so I’m going to go upstairs to rest,” you softly replied to prevent your voice from shaking.  Habitually rubbing your tummy, you excused yourself but Tao grabbed your hand.

“Babe.  You’re scaring me,” he admitted.

“No.  No.  I’m really fine.  I’m just making a big deal out of nothing,” you self-reprimanded and threw him a smile of reassurance.  His hold loosened so you took the opportunity to dash.  But Tao knew you well enough to recognize that the more you brushed a problem off, the more important it was.  He scurried after you.

“Baby, tell me what is wrong,” you husband pleaded, stopped you right before you made you getaway into the bedroom.

“Nothing is wrong,” you stressed.  Really.  The world wasn’t collapsing…what did he even… Your eyes overfilled with liquid.  What…in the…  Tears flowed down as you cupped your face within your hands.  …in the actual…world?

“No.  No.  No,” Tao winced and hurriedly enveloped you into his strong arms  “No.  No.  Babe, you know I can’t stand seeing you cry.”

“It’s…It’s…” you hiccupped, “It’s really no-nothing…”

Oh my God…You started to sob even louder.

“Tell me what is wrong.  Please,” he begged.

“No, it’s really nothing important.  I swear…” you tried to say through your weeping, “My…My hormones are just…”

“Your hormones?” he raised his brow.

“Bay…bay…” you bit your cheek in attempts to steady your voice to no avail.  “Bee…”

“BeiBei?  What about BeiBei?” Tao leaned his ear closer to try to decipher your gibberish.  You shook your head.  “Has BeiBei been disobedient?”  Again, you shook your head and began to wail.    

Argh.  For real.  Calm it, Hormones!

“BeiBei.  Sweater,” you tugged on your own shirt in case he couldn’t hear you through your sobs.

“Sweater?” he questioned with his brows furrowed.  You nodded for the first time in the conversation.  Tao eyes travelled down the hall to where the little toddler had just arrived after strenuously climbing the stairs one step at a time to reunite with her Mommy and Daddy.  He squinted as he read the words out loud, “I’m going to be a…”

His eyes widened.  Your cries quieted.

“…big sister?!?!”

Tao turned to you for confirmation.  Bashfully dropping your head, you brought both palms up to caress your tummy.

“Wifey?!” your husband wheezed as his own orbs glazed in an abundance of salted liquid.

“I told you I was ovulating during our anniversary night but you still wanted to shower together,” you murmured.

His features smoothened out as he chuckled lowly to himself.  Taking both your hands into his, he brought one up to his lips and planted a light kiss.  Like a fairytale prince, he slowly knelt down in front of you and pressed his lips against your growing stomach.  “Hehe,” you shyly smiled.

“Hi Little BaoBao,” the elated father greeted.

Your little heart fluttered with butterflies and rainbow unicorns.

“ZiTao-ah…I know we planned to have a second child in three years…but—”

“We can have our third then,” he smiled, “Don’t scare our little BaoBao.”

You placed your hand over his that rested atop your tummy and nodded.

“Plus…we can’t plan fate when accidents like to happen,” he winked.

“Hehe…” Falling in love again, your eyes glittered into his like adorned Christmas lights as he stood back on his two feet.

All your recent efforts for the announcement finally made sense to Tao.  “Argh.  I’m so slow,” he hid his face within his palms in embarrassment.

“You really are,” you teased as you settled back into his cozy hug.

“You even said ‘new family member’ the other day.  How did I not understand?” he chuckled to himself.

“Exactly, Dummie!” you crinkled your nose when he leaned in to steal a peck.                

Just then, BeiBei waddled over to tug the hem of Tao’s trousers.  Her father eagerly picked her up into his arms.  Ruffling her hair, he tenderly wiped the beads of sweat on her forehead with his sleeve whilst whispering little sweet nothings to remind her that she was the most beautiful little princess anyone could ever have.  High-pitched squeals and giggles of pure bliss echoed down the halls, layering your once fearful heart with so genuine euphoria.    

Perhaps, to most girls, a fairytale happy ending always concluded with that image of puffy laced wedding gowns, bouquets of flowers, and a kiss from Prince Charming.  You got that and much, much more because you found a Charming Daddy for your little princess and prince.  

A/N: Thank you, once again, for all the loving support for the Accidental Romance series <3 Much love, please stay tuned for future series :3!!!

Please DO check out this >>post<< about my lightsticks :3 would love for one of my readers to claim one!!

little-insxnities  asked:

Hi!:) Wintershock - dealing with fangirls? Darcy helping Bucky escape a mob of screaming fans, answer fanmail etc...? Or Bucky does that for Darcy because she's started getting her own little faction of crazy people? :D

Prompt Status: Accepting

bushy-barnes asked:Hi!:) Wintershock - dealing with fangirls? Darcy helping Bucky escape a mob of screaming fans, answer fanmail etc…? Or Bucky does that for Darcy because she’s started getting her own little faction of crazy people? :D

Tony almost never looked at the thousands of letters that poured in everyday for him (again, this is the man who wont a shower for days of in the middle of a science bender) and that might be for the best—it’s Pepper is responsible for the replies, J.A.R.V.I.S scans most of the letters to a digital form so it’s not too bad. 

Steve is the exact opposite, replies every letter hand written working diligently on the piles of letters that have been sorted out for him—fan mail only, the hate mail gets tossed before it even reaches the third floor of the Tower—some children get little doodles at the margins of their letters. 

Banner has his mail sent back almost exclusively unread, even the letter’s of little ones admiring the Hulk, Darcy has always wanted to ask why but she’s not particularly close to him—mostly because he wont really let her in yet (emphasis on yet, she stubborn). Natasha memorably sat in Darcy’s office once reading an Ode (written in iambic fucking pentameter) about the Assassin’s ass—it’d been hilarious hearing things like ‘supple lines, hair like cherry wine’ comes out of her mouth. 

Clint replies sporadically, he’ll scoop up an arm full of envelopes as he walks by every couple of days and god only knew what he replied. 

Thor, being an actual extra terrestrial didn’t actually write english—he wrote in runes, which were beautiful but Darcy couldn’t even start to guess at what they said—but that didn’t stop him from dictating the occasional letter to some young fan to J.A.R.V.I.S. 

 With the addition of the Winter Soldier and Falcon to the Avengers line up after Washington Darcy had another pair of Super Heroes to stress about. Working as the PR representative of the Avengers was meant to be a temporary gig while Hill was under fire for the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D but once the Commander had returned she’d not taken the reins back, approving of Darcy’s work it would seem and falling back into being the mission handler (on the more tame ones, Darcy was allowed to observe). 

So she ran the official media pages for them—collaborated interviews and press conferences—and had to wrangle them into the occasional photo shoot. Sam Wilson took the Thor approach of sometimes replying back to children—which was fine by her, less letters to approve. Barnes though, Barnes in the four months he had been living in the Tower had not had a single piece of mail make it past the third floor. 

In the last week Barnes had started to take the midday meals with the Team, it was required by Rogers if you were in the building and otherwise unoccupied then you’d join them in the mass (he called it that sometimes, forgetting or remembering she’s not sure) for Lunch. Nothing brings people together like food was his theory or something, apparently she feel under 'Team’ category, surprising (but, fuck yeah). 


Darcy had walks in a little late on Thursday and sees Barnes sitting straight back and at attention as always between Steve, who is in an animated conversation with Wilson and an empty seat—the universe practically hits her over the head with the metaphor, Barnes had no one but Steve in his corner and she’d been ignoring his integration to the media, well because it was a nightmare waiting to happen but she’d been cheating him of knowing there might be people out there who didn’t hate him. 

 Thanks, Universe (bastard, she had enough paper work). 

So despite the empty seat Jane had no doubt been saving for her, she sits beside Barnes who subtly shifts away from her as soon as her ass hits the chair, Darcy tries real hard not to be insulted, to keep her tongue in check. Taking up a plate she’s piling on food (it was indian today, not her favorite but the ex-college student in her would never allow her to refuse free food) but can’t reach the naan without invading his personal space. 

 “Can you pass the naan?” 

No reply. 

“Can you pass the naan, please?” 

She catches Natasha’s attention because the Widow throws up a brow in question over the rim of her glass, Darcy ignores it in favor of trying nicely, just one more time before the kid gloves came off and she told Steve’s special snowflake about polite society and not keeping a lady from her naan. 

“Barnes, can you pass the naan—or do I have to climb in your lap to get it?” 

Casting a look from the corner of his eyes Barnes reaches out for the basket with his right hand—it would have been easier, more natural, to do it with the left but that’s the side he’s facing—and deposits it soundlessly in front of her. 

Steve was watching them with a curious expression, his conversation with Wilson trickling off until he saw nothing was going to happen and rejoined. 

“Thank you.” 

 Digging in with gusto, spices melting thickly on her tongue, she alternates between different conversations—Natasha and Clint are recounting a mission gone wrong to Thor with Hill pipping in occasionally to tone down the exaggerations; Bruce, Tony and Jane are off in science land she immediately tunes out of that before she gets PTSD flashbacks. Which leaves Steve and Sam who are talking about the which events of the 21st century Steve needed to catch up on first, which leaves her and Barnes. 

Normally she’s the kind of person who can really talk to anyone, aggressively friendly her mother used to say, but Barnes needed to be approached carefully—she needed a plan


The Universe (fickle Mistress that it was) gave her a solution to her problem two weeks later in which the most progress she made was not being stabbed by a fork when she sat down next to Barnes—which was good progress, don’t get her wrong. A letter for Barnes had made it past the third floor, it was fan mail so she was well within her rights to open it but somehow it didn’t feel right. 

Instead as a precaution she asks J.A.R.V.I.S to look up the sender—Carter Mills of Ohio, age nine—satisfied she tucks the letter into her pocket to deliver it at lunch. Late to lunch again—she seemed to be perpetually late now a days, maybe it was time to accept the offer for an assistant Pepper keeps mentioning—Darcy walks in the room accepting and giving greetings. 

It’s Indian again (Bruce must be feeling the travel itch, today was his day to order on the schedule) her now customary seat next to Barnes is waiting. She counts it as a small victory when he doesn’t flinch away from her when she sits and breaks full blown smile when without prompting he’s passing her the naan. 

 “Thanks. Oh, that reminds me—here.” out of her pocket comes the letter, holding it out to him she waits—everything with Barnes required waiting, patience—but he does reach for it, careful not to brush against her hand in anyway. 

“What is it?” 

“Fan mail.” 

“Wow, Buck—you got a letter, nice.” 

He’s drawn away by Steve’s question and allows Sam to pull him into a discussion about baseball—one of the few things she’s ever seen Barnes get passionate about, his face becomes less severe and a hint of Brooklyn creeps back into his voice. Filing the information away for later she just watches her Team be together—safe. 


A knock on her door distracts her for a moment, she holds up a finger asking whoever it was to wait and her fingers continue to fly over the keyboard. Closing off the document with her usual salutation she sends it off to for Hill’s approval. 

 “Sorry, need to finish that thou—Barnes?” 

Standing awkwardly at her door Barnes is dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a long sleeved, soft looking sweater—both in dark colors— a pony tail gathered at the base of his neck, having pulled back the hair from his face has left the sharp cut of his jaw out for the world to see. She’d know, somewhere in her mind that Barnes was handsome, but confronted with proof of it is different, startling. 

“Ma'am.” he ducks his head down in greeting, hands behind his back at attention. 

 Rising from her chair she points to the chairs in front of her desk, “Come in, please. Take a seat.” 

“Thank you.” 

“So what can I do for you, Barnes?” 

His gloved hands are fiddling with a familiar envelope, he still doesn’t meet her eyes—he had issues with eye contact, probably from H.Y.D.R.A—it’s more that he’s looking just over her shoulder. 

“This boy—Carter, lost his arm in an accident. His mother wrote the letter, says the Winter Soldier is his hero.” 

Darcy remains quiet, sensing he’s not done. 

“He’s got a prosthetic arm—the mother says he would love a reply.” 

“And you need help writing one?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, you came to the right place Barnes, I happen to have a way with words.” 

His lips quirk up for an instant, “I know, Ma'am”

anonymous asked:

First of all, I hope you're having a wonderful Christmas Eve! Hope you're finding happiness in the midst of these otherwise stressful times. I was wondering if you could write a mini-fic based on the song, "Can't Help Falling in Love With You"? It was originally an Elvis song, but I really adore Haley Reinhart's cover. And watch the Extra Gum ad that the song was used for, if you haven't already (when you get the time. <3) Again, happy holidays. I'm a huge fan. <3

Here’s the amazing cover that than anon was talking about

Also wtf this Extra Gum commercial is going to make you emotional

Wise men say
Only fools rush in
  
But I can’t help falling in love with you

She begins to chew gum after Regionals her junior year, because she’s unused to getting insulted so blatantly, and because for weeks after that incident, all she can hear is the sharpness in her captain’s voice. 

Keep reading

Mavi Imagine 3- 'Perfect'

“Don’t worry, this is going to work. 100%.” Scott pushed Avi out of the car and into the midnight air.
He had bought SOPHIE tickets for Mitch and himself and wanted a way to surprise him. He asked Scott and immediately a plan was devised that resembled some type of serial killer shit.
So there he was. Ready for his mission. He was going to break in, put the tickets somewhere, leave a note, and run. The inner workings of Scott’s mind everyone.
Avi pushed open the door, mentally thanking Scott for turning off the alarms, and turned on the torch app on his phone.
Mitch was in bed and hadn’t long fallen asleep when he heard a distant click. He dismissed it as his mind playing tricks on him until he heard faint footsteps. He took his phone off charge and sat up in his bed.
Avi was trying his best to be quiet but he had literally no idea where he was going. The amount of times he hit his leg on that damn table was starting to get annoying.
Mitch thought about waking Alex or Justin but didn’t want to seem stupid if it wasn’t anything dangerous. He decided that whatever it was didn’t trip the alarms so couldn’t be too bad but he still wanted to investigate.
Mitch silently walked out of his room onto the landing. He held his breath as he saw a dark figure moving around.
Avi had just placed the envelope on top of a counter when he suddenly had a feeling of being watched. He continued to rummage in his pocket for some paper to write a note on as the feeling intensified.
Walking quietly down the stairs, Mitch examined the intruder. He wasn’t much taller than him but looked a little stronger. He wasn’t overly intimidating so Mitch crept towards him.
Avi scribbled a quick note filled with little doodles and hearts and left it on the table. He looked down proud at his work.
Mitch carried on until he was just behind the mysterious trespasser. He raised his fist and swung it back.
Avi put down the note on top of the envelope and quickly turned around ready to leav—
Crunch.
Avi held his throbbing cheek in his hands as Mitch stood ready to attack again. 
“Mitch, baby, it’s me. Oh my god.” He lowered his fist as he realised what he had just done.
“I didn’t realise you could hit so hard. Damn.”
——————–
“So how’d it go? How’d he react?” Scott swirled his Starbucks and nudged Avi’s arm.
Avi opened and closed his jaw a few times.
“Perfect.”

2

smth i made for my old outdoor kitty haha

literally almost everyone on my street knows him by name and hang out with him and stuff (i think some of them let him inside their homes.. idk–) but since he owns the “cat territory” on my street, he tends to linger on other neighbor’s yards and chill lol

we live near an elementary school too, so a lot of the kids who walk by go “hey cheeto!” and im all “who tf do u think u are, how do you know my cat-” but its cool to see when they pet him and coo him like he’s a good friend <3 (i theorize he has a secret fanclub)

one time, a couple years back, we were running low on kitty feed for him and one of the neighbors left a sweet letter at our door asking if Cheeto was eating well because they were concerned about his weight. it was the cutest thing ever <3 they even doodled him on the envelope ahhh

i thought it was only appropriate to let the street know he’s gonna be leaving soon ;0 i feel bad but we’re going to a good place and i think he’ll have fun in a new environment. maybe he’ll even win over our new neighbor’s affection too, haha!!

the-storyweaver  asked:

yoongi; ink, adoration, skin. AYEEE can't wait to see what you can come up with :3 ALSO REMINDER THAT I LOVE YOUR WRITING <333

place of you


1. ink
           

            “You really should invest in some curtains,” Yoongi mumbles into your neck as your shield your eyes from pale rays of the rising sun. You shift in his arms, mint green sheets tangling around your feet and sliding across your bare body until you’re facing him, the tips of your nose brushing against his, soft and warm with the faintest sheen of oil from nights where he doesn’t care enough to watch his face - usually the nights you get to him first.

            “It’s your place, you know,” you breathe into the morning air, voice echoing into your sparsely furnished apartment; a picture frame here, an oven mitt there, a kiss here, a hug there. In the kitchen is an empty fridge, flickering bulbs, memories and possibilities.

            “Our place,” he corrects you with a peck on the nose, sliding his arm under your head so you can rest against it - he’s already memorized which tilts of your head give you a crick in the neck and which keep your tired bones singing. You nuzzle your cheek into his forearm and fall into what could be a dream or just Yoongi’s voice humming you to sleep. You dream of Yoongi’s voice slithering around you in black, dripping ribbons scented vanilla and spice, dream that Yoongi is the scribbles you doodle on the backs of envelopes while gushing to your mom about how wonderful he is, that he is the thinning pages of a book you’ve read eight times, dream that he is the moment and you’re caught in it.

2. adoration

            You’re not really one to find beauty in all things - some colors are just ugly and some movies are stupid and some clouds just look like clouds - but something about Yoongi just does it for you. Something about the soft curves of his neck, his silhouette against the setting sun, flecks of light pulsing around his head, over his shoulders as he sits back towards you on the mattress, even as his squints into the mirror like he’s doing now, cheeks puffed full with mouthwash, eyes glassed and heavy.

            “Did you know that gurgling’s actually really bad for you?” You ask as he spits mint into the sink.

            “You’re full of shit,” he says to the mirror, turning his face one way then the next, looking for imperfections you’re starting to believe don’t exist. His hair is tousled from your hands, neck blossomed red and blooming purple, white shirt hanging off his shoulder and you find yourself sighing.

            “What?” He turns to you, hands landing on your waist, grin pulling at his mouth because he damn well knows what.

            “Nothing,” you giggle out, knocking your head against his chest. He drops a kiss in your tangled hair; in the mirror you watch his eyes flutter closed.

            “Little do they know you’re falling in love with me while I spit in the bathroom,” he snickers.

            “That’s gross,” you shake your head, still pressed against the soft cotton of his tee. “But yeah.”

3. skin

            Yoongi’s fingers tiptoe across your naked shoulder, cold enough to send goosebumps jolting across your skin, warm enough to keep you hovering over a raging sea of daydreams and delusions. The sensations linger, the traces of his fingertips like tattoos or maybe trenches dotted into you. You can’t tell if he’s asleep (he almost always is) or if he’s waiting for you to doze off first so he can list every part of you he adores until he drifts away himself; he thinks you don’t notice but you can hear his mumbles through your dreams. His breaths are a lullaby that rocks you to sleep, floating on clouds of words and wonders with nowhere you’d rather be.