your handwriting is adorable

@yankasmiles
Boy howdy not only is your art amazing but your handwriting too!!!!! These children are so adorable and i love seeing all of them in your style and dressed up!!~ Goodness gracious theyre so cute!!!!~

Thank you so much for doing these and i hope you get lots of discounted candy this year!!!!
Also props to kid you and your bro for winning those halloween costume contests yall mustve been so cool and spooky!!!~

Pen Pals

Pairing: Newt Scamander X Reader

Requested: Yes

@thatthinghasclaws:  Newt Scamander soulmate AU? Where you can see what the other one writes on their skin. :)

A/N: Arg, this is probably so bad. Sorry for making you guys wait for so long! I’ve been super busy but I finally finished! Thank you so much for waiting patiently!

*****

~(Y/N)’s P.O.V.~

A lot of strange things started happening ever since you turned eleven and found out about a magical world that was living parallel to the only world you thought existed; the Muggle world. That is, if you could even call it a world at all, what’s a world without magic? But, if possible, things were getting even weirder now.

You were sitting at a desk in a boring Transfiguration class, fighting hard to keep your eyelids from falling. Professor Dumbledore was happily explaining about some fancy Transfiguration spells, preparing you and all of the other Fifth Years for the upcoming O.W.L.s. Oh, the dreadful O.W.L.s. You shivered at the thought, reminding yourself that you still had a little over a week to prepare.

Still bored, you discreetly glance over at Newt Scamander, who was sitting a few seats away to your left. He looked as enthusiastic about all this as the rest of the class. You watched him scribble down a few notes and admired his neat-messy handwriting from afar before he snaps his head up and his green eyes meet yours. You quickly avert your eyes and pretend that nothing happened.
You and he had a…“strictly platonic”…okay fine, “not even really friends yet” type of relationship. There was no denying you had a massive crush on the freckled Hufflepuff, but you were sure that he didn’t share the same feelings. Ah well, maybe something would happen eventually, but that was currently the last thing you wanted to worry about.

“(Y/N), are you following along? You seem distracted.” Professor Dumbledore says curtly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You nod your head furiously, hair flying everywhere, desperately hoping you looked alert or better yet; awake. He smiles.

“Well if that’s so, will you please tell the class what I was going to turn this goblet into?” he asks with a sweet smile, his eyes twinkling from behind his glasses.

“Umm, a potato?” you say idiotically, mentally facepalming yourself and giving up on life in general, as the whole class started giggling uncontrollably. Some boys even fell out of their chairs, for dramatic effect of course. You rolled your eyes and giggled too, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em!

You hopefully glanced at Newt and your heart jumped slightly as you saw him chuckling too. Yes, you made him laugh! Well, he was probably laughing at you but you still made him laugh and that was good enough for you.

*****

~Newt’s P.O.V.~

He laughed softly and looked at you through his long lashes. There was no denying it, he had strong feelings for you but he was always too shy to gather the courage to talk to you.
Sighing quietly, he admired your handwriting from his seat, thinking that the tiny letters looked as adorable as you did.

*****

~(Y/N)’s P.O.V.~

“Please pay attention now (Y/N), I want you to do well,” Dumbledore says gently yet firmly and you nod, relieved that you weren’t getting detention.

Minutes passed and the class returned to its boring state. You sighed and picked up your feathered quill and dipped the tip in ink.
You lazily proceeded to draw on the back of your hand, writing random little phrases and words.

*****

~Newt’s P.O.V.~

He jumped slightly in his seat as he felt a tingling sensation tickling the back of his left hand.
He cautiously looked around to make sure no one else saw his little jump and he peered at his hand. The words I’m so bored appeared on his hand in what appeared to be black ink, as if the letters were being written on with an invisible pen in the air.

He blinked a couple times, utterly confused. What was going on? Were these words reflecting his feelings? He definitely felt bored but this hasn’t happened before?…

He felt tingling again and he quickly looked down.

Lalalalalalalalala was scribbled across the palm of his hand now.
Yeah, these definitely weren’t his thoughts and this was all getting more than a little strange.

He picked up his own quill and dipped it in a vial of ink. He was going to try something…
The tip of his quill moved swiftly across the soft flesh of his hand.

*****

~(Y/N)’s P.O.V.~

You yelp as you feel tingling on the back of your hand next to your own little scrawls.
You watch in surprise and wonder as delicate little letters appear, spelling out Hello?

Professor Dumbledore turns to you again after hearing your surprised little sound and quirks up an eyebrow.

“What is it this time (Y/N)? Would you like to share with the class why you felt the need to take such a sharp intake of breath?” he smiles kindly as you shake your head furiously, and he resumes his lesson.

Shaking nervously you grip your quill and write on your hand again. All the ink of your precious conversations, if you even call them conversations, was still etched onto your soft flesh.

Hi. What’s going on and who are you? you write.

The tingling comes back.

Beats me, though I must admit this is rather fascinating. Who are you?

No fair, I asked first.

Well, I asked last.

Okay fine, just tell me this; you aren’t some murderer, right?

Oh no, definitely not. If it makes you fell any better I attend Hogwarts and I’m sitting in a rather boring class right now. This is quite the highlight of my day.

Oh thank goodness, I’m at Hogwarts too! Maybe we could try finding each other?

You were slowly starting to inch your way up your arm for you were running out of room on your hand.

*****

~Newt’s P.O.V.~

Well, this is very interesting, he thought as he dipped his quill in ink again.

Or maybe we should keep this anonymous? That way we could talk without feeling awkward around each other. What do you say?

He waits patiently, drumming his fingers on his desk, eagerly waiting for a reply.

Sure! We could be pen pals! Cheesy, I know but it will definitely keep us entertained during boring classes, like the one I’m in right now.

Pen pals it is! Who’s class are you in right now?

Dumbledore. You?

Same, actually! So we have now established that we are also in the same year, how exciting!

Yay, this will definitely be fun. But do you have any idea why all this is even happening?

No idea. But I’m glad I’ve found a new friend, even if I don’t exactly know who you are. I’m terribly sorry if this is getting weird, but I already like you.

Brilliant, I like you already too! And don’t worry, it will definitely get weirder once you’ve seen my doodles. Now, on to more pressing matters; we seem to have run out of space on our left arms, how do we erase all this?!

*****

~(Y/N)’s P.O.V.~

Turns out that a little bit of soap and water did the trick, no magic was needed. You and your pen pal had become rather close in the next few weeks and you learned that the two of you were of the opposite gender. That made it even more exciting for you in a way.

You always felt like you had a secret, a good secret, making sure to cover up your arms with your robes after a long class.

You were making your way to the nearest washroom to rid your skin of ink when you bumped into Newt on the way.

You blush as you realize who you just crashed into and your hand instinctively pulls down the sleeves of your robes, hiding the smudges of ink and your conversations with your secret friend.

“Ah, sorry about that…” Newt apologizes with a gentle smile.

“It’s fine,” you say quickly and you mentally slap yourself. Great job, the one time you ever talked to your crush and you had to say “I’m fine”? Arg, you always blew it.

Without saying another word, you scurry off to your next class, plop yourself down in your chair and pull out a vial of ink. You try to find a bare spot on your arms and you manage to squeeze in a tiny sentence.

*****

~Newt’s P.O.V.~

He was still blushing after your little encounter and he felt a tingle on his arm as he sat down in the library to study for he was done all his classes for the day.

Hey, we’re like, super tight now right?

He smiles and pulls out his own quill, swiftly replying.

Yeah, I mean, we have been chatting for over a month now. I’d say we’re pretty close and we know quite a bit about each other.

Okay, good because I wanted to ask you for some advice. I have a crush and he’s a dude and since you’re a dude too you know stuff that I don’t, am I right?

Umm, sure? I guess that makes sense.

Well, here I go anyways. So I’ve liked him for quite some time now and I just bumped into him in the hallways but I really couldn’t bring myself to say anything, what should I do?

Blimey, I just met my crush in the hallways a few minutes ago! he wrote, shaking his head in wonder. You two were more alike than he thought.

Ah! Okay, answer my questions later. Tell me all about her!

Well, I’m in the same situation as you. I’ve liked her since I’ve laid eyes on her but I’m too shy to make a move.

I suggest talking to her! How bad can it be? You’ve got to work up some courage and I’m sure you’ll do great! I believe in you!

I could say the same to you! Why don’t we both attempt to talk to our crushes and meet up to see how it went.

Wait, did you just say meet up!?

Yeah, I’d say it’s about time to see each other, wouldn’t you?

Yes!!! I’ve been waiting for this moment! I’m sure you’re lovely!

*****

~(Y/N)’s P.O.V.~

You agreed to meet up with PP (your nickname for your pen pal) by the main entrance. But before that happened, you had to try to work up the guts to talk to Newt. Yeah, that was the tricky part.

He found you before you saw him.

“Umm hi (Y/N),” he said with a shy grin, his beautiful hair falling like a halo on his head. You stood there like an idiot, no words coming out.

Abort mission! Abort mission! you scream in your head.

“I’m sorry Newt, I can’t talk right now. I need to meet someone.” you blurt before rushing off towards the main entrance.

Well, that failed.
You hold back tears as you run.

*****

~Newt’s P.O.V.~

Well, that failed.
He miserably watched you go and felt something odd in his chest. His breathing got heavier. Did you just reject him or were you just really busy? He couldn’t say.

He finally decided that he should probably go meet his pen pal. At least that would cheer him up.

“Oh, Mr. Scamander! Will you help me move these textbooks to another room?” Professor Dumbledore asks Newt, beckoning him over.

Newt opens his mouth to tell him that he was busy but the professor would hear none of it. Newt sighed and made a mental note to apologize to his pen pal later.

*****

~(Y/N)’s P.O.V.~

Hello? you write, standing alone by the entrance, finally beginning to calm down after the very one-sided conversation with Newt. You hadn’t meant to seem rude, you just…panicked.
You’ve been waiting for 20 minutes now and no one showed up.

I’m on my way!

A frantic scribble appears next to your sentence and you huff, slightly annoyed yet still tingling with excitement. Even though you had failed to talk to Newt, you were finally going to meet your new friend!

Soon, you hear footsteps running towards you and you turn, only to see Newt panting a couple feet away from you. What was he doing here?

“Hi, Newt. Umm, what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice coming out as a little squeak as he straightens up.

“Uh, I am here to meet someone.”

Your heart fell as he looked away, clearly avoiding eye contact. When would your pen pal show up?

*****

~Newt’s P.O.V.~

Oh no, why was she here? He was even more nervous now than before!
He hastily looked away before blushing furiously, refusing to face her.

The two of you stood opposite to each other, both leaning against the wall, waiting and not daring to speak to each other for you were both nervously shaking.

******

~(Y/N)’s P.O.V.~

You frantically pull out your quill and shakily start to write.

Where are you?

A tingle.

I’m here waiting for you!

You blink as the writing appears and your breath hitches in the back of your throat. It couldn’t be…

You and Newt both turn and spontaneously walk towards each other.

You shakily lift up your arm and he does too, like a mirror mimicking your precise movements.

Your arms are now side by side and the words you just exchanged were both printed on your forearms.

You tilt your head up just enough to look at him and your eyes brighten with realization.

“It’s you.” you both murmur at the same time.

anonymous asked:

Hey, how you doin? Hope you're having a nice day :) is there anyway you can make a prompt or imagine about the Dads enjoying a day with their kids and their new husband, Dadsona, and their awesome step-child, Amanda. It would be so adorable and awesome with your creative handwriting x)

My hands are hurting like a b**** but I had to write this! I’m back to filling prompts again, everyone, my term paper is finished!

🥃 You had never been to New York City before, so to get a personal ‘behind the scenes’ tour by your boyfriend’s daughter and her girlfriend was like a dream come true. After going to the must-see sights like the Empire State Building or the Central Park, Val started showing you her favourite spots: A sub shop which served the best sandwiches in all of the states, the Lalique Windows, the club where she had met her girlfriend, a secluded spot of a small park near the water with a perfect view of the skyline where they had first kissed. To you, the trip feels like a journey through Val’s adult life and memories, and judging by Robert’s expression, he feels the same. He had invited you and Amanda along and you’re glad you said yes, or else you would never have learnt of that Jazz Club nestled between a drag bar and a grocery store where Val had watched over the bouncer’s dog for half an hour before he came to retrieve it. You would never have met Val’s girlfriend and you would never have seen the inside of their apartment, which was cluttered with photos and souvenirs from little shops around the city. You would have missed the way Robert and Val interacted, shy and insecure at first increasingly familiar as time went by, mending old wounds and letting the scars fade away. And, most importantly, the picture of the five of you – huddled around Amanda’s camera, your faces smushed together, but so happy, most of all Robert, whose eyes were shining so bright it lit up the whole photo – would never have been taken.  

 🍸 “Help.” You can’t see it, but you can feel Joseph’s gaze on you as he takes in the sight of you, a grown man, bested by a teenager, three children and a toddler. Crish’s butt is firmly planted on your nape, while Christian, Christie and Amanda are sitting on your back; the oldest Christiansen child, Chris, holds down your legs while playing Pokémon on the Gameboy you had given him last Christmas. You try to lift your head, but Crish scoots backwards to keep you still, saying “Nuh-uh”, so you give up even though the grass is starting to tickle your nose. “Have you slayed the beast?” Joseph asks from somewhere to your left. You wouldn’t put it past him to purposely stay out of your line of vision. “It fought valiantly,” Amanda says, “but ultimately, it was no match to five brave knights.”
“Bweast!” Crish repeats and hits the back of your head with his hands. You grunt even though it doesn’t even hurt. Finally, Joseph’s shoes appear in front of your face; the next moment, he is kneeling in front of you, his eyes sparkling in amusement. “Well done, brave knights. Tales of your heroic deed will be sung for all eternity. I think the beast has learnt its lesson.” He picked up Crish and nudged the twins until they got off your back and sat back down on the picnic blanket. Once Amanda and Chris also move off you, you roll over. Joseph chuckles and offers you his hand to pull you back on your feet. You accept and immediately, he starts tickling you. “Help!”

☕ You let out an ‘oof’ as Carmensita jumps on your back and stumble a few steps forward, but thankfully, Mat grips your arm before you can fly down the stairs. He releases your arm again after giving it a squeeze. “No, ‘manda, don’t even think about it.” Though she’s walking behind you, you can practically see Amanda’s pout behind your mind’s eye. “But why?”
“All due respect, but Carmen’s a tiny bit lighter than you.” Amanda appears next to you and indeed, she is wearing the matching pout that you just imagined, but the way her eyes are sparkling shows you she’s not really all that upset. No, she’s already running to the next exhibition of the umpteenth artist whose name you’ve never heard of before. Carmensita points at another picture and you carry her over to it. An art museum wouldn’t have been your first choice for a weekend trip, but now that you’re here, you’re enjoying yourself. “I think it’s a bird,” Carmensita says. You tilt your head at the canvas. “To me it looks like a cross between a house and a baby from Alien.” Next to you, Mat hums. “Maybe it’s not supposed to mean any—“
“MAT!” Mat spins around just in time to catch Amanda, who launched herself at his back after a sprint. He stumbles, but thankfully doesn’t fall and adjusts his grip to hook his arms under Amanda’s legs. You laugh and fondly shake your head. With the way she’s grinning, one might think she just won the lottery, even though she only succeeded in being carried by Mat. He looks fairly unimpressed. “Onwards, steed!” Amanda shouts and nudges Mat with her leg.

🌹”Dad, can I buy that shirt?”
“Ask your other father, ‘Manda.” She scowls at you, but walks over to where Damien is standing together with Lucien, quietly discussing the quality of the fabric, as if a piece of clothing from Dead, Goth, & Beyond could hold a candle to clothes he had sewn himself at home. He looks up at Amanda when she approaches and smiles. It still takes your breath away to see just how happy he is about you and her being in his life now. “Dad wants me to ask you if I can buy that shirt and I beg you, please do not tell me to ask my other father, I cannot be caught in this vicious, never-ending cycle.” Damien tuts. “Amanda dear, why would I say anything like that?” Damien shakes his head and peers at the shirt in Amanda’s hands. “However, I do believe in this situation it would be best to ask Y/N whether you can—“ Amanda lets out a frustrated groan and grips Lucien’s arm. “Lucien, save me. They’re going to do the thing. We cannot let that happen.” Lucien looks at you, then back at Amanda. “Why don’t you just buy it yourself? You have your own money.” Amanda scoffs. “Lucien, brother-dearest, I love you, but you have a lot to learn. Never pay with your own money when you can make your parents do it.” Lucien rolls his eyes and allows her to drag him back towards the band shirts. You make eye contact with Damien across the room and catch him wipe his eyes discretely. You tilt your head in question. “She thinks of me as her other father,” Damien sniffs.

🎣 Your second fishing trip goes much more smoothly than the first time – probably because you’re no longer trying to act like you know what the hell you’re doing and the competitiveness between the two of you has lost its desperate, aggressive edge. The first time, you weren’t together yet, so now, there are a lot more kisses involved, much to Amanda’s and Daisy’s annoyance. You can see them pull faces as Brian pulls you into yet another kiss and even though you cannot hear them since they are back on land, you can tell they’re making gagging noises. You stick out your tongue, but either they’re ignoring you, or they didn’t see you. Neither option appeals to you, so you turn to Brian and pout. “What’s that face for, Y/N?” He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head, wiping the pout straight off your face again. You don’t reply, but the way you nuzzle into him is answer enough. Brian laughs and turns back to his fishing rod. It takes some time – mostly due to the fact you two end up scaring the fish away more often than you caught it – but eventually, Brian has your dinner ready and you two return to the shore. While Brian gets a fire going, you walk over to where Amanda and Daisy are playing fetch with Maxwell. You scoop Brian’s daughter into your arms and grin as she laughs and wriggles, trying to escape your tickling fingers.

👟 “The fries won’t kill you, Craig, you don’t have to stare at them like that.” You flop down in the chair next to Craig and throw an arm over his shoulders. He automatically leans against you with a heavy sigh. “Do you even know how much fat is in these things?”
“I know, and I don’t care. We’re on vacation, bro, you really have to learn how to live and let go. Them having fries once every two months or so won’t make them become unhealthy. You let them have pizza, too.” Craig huffed and lightly shoved at your shoulder. “That’s totally different, Y/N. That’s after softball games, as a reward and for celebrations. Right now, we’re not celebrating anything.” You shift River on your other knee and start bouncing her up and down. The baby giggles and tries reaching for your nose, so you indulge her and lean down, even though you know what’s coming – she pulls and you yelp, exaggerating your pain. “I don’t know, bro, I think there’s something to celebrate.” Your gaze wanders over to the playground next to your table, where Amanda and the twins are playing tag. Fighting against two physically superior girls with twin telepathy puts Amanda at a large disadvantage, but she’s holding her own, screaming whenever they reach for her as if she’s running from zombies. “What’s that?” Craig turns to look at you, grinning. Instead of replying, you lean forward to kiss him. The ‘triplets’ groan in protest.

📖 You’re surprised just how well Ernest and Amanda get along. Whereas Ernest had… well, saying disliked wouldn’t quite capture the animosity you were presented with in the beginning, but either way, he had taken ages to warm up to you, but with Amanda, something had clicked right away. It was like all Ernest needed was a big sister who was just as mischievous as him. You watch the two at the lottery booth and try to decide whether you should be proud of them successfully executing their scam four times in a row or whether you should scold them, when Hugo returns from the candy stall. “Are they still trying to win something? Don’t they know the probability of winning that stuffed dog is below one percent?” Hugo lifts his arm and immediately, you step closer and let him engulf you in his body heat. How he does it, when the temperature is close to freezing, you have no idea, but you wouldn’t question your luck. “Oh, they know.” Something about your tone of voice must have set Hugo’s teacher senses off, since he turns to look intently at your face. You try, you really try, but your poker face had never been the best. Hugo narrows his eyes. “They’re cheating.” You don’t even try to deny it, there’s no salvaging this situation. Hugo sighs again and looks about ready to stomp over there and put an end to it, but, taking in Ernest’s excited expression, something in him melts. “I’ll let it slide this time,” he says and kisses your forehead.

Imagine Chris proposing to you.

You grabbed your iPad and your mug of coffee as you made your way to the living room. You plopped down on the couch and rested the tablet on your lap; you opened Tumblr and took a sip of your coffee. You had wanted to see how well your last ‘imagine’ piece did overnight, as well as check your inbox for more requests. It was amusing to Chris that you were still writing imagines considering you were already with the person you were writing about, but you weren’t doing it for yourself; you were doing it for those who needed something to smile about.

Of course you had talked to him about it before you continued because you didn’t want to make things uncomfortable or awkward for him. He agreed to let you do your thing if he could set some ground rules, to protect his privacy, yours, and the privacy of the two of you as a couple. As long as you kept your identity anonymous- the world didn’t need to know that the actress and girlfriend of Chris Evans, Y/N Y/L/N, was the face behind Y/URL.com- and the details of your relationship private, you could continue writing as many imagines as you wanted.

He didn’t mind, he actually enjoyed reading your work. It said it made him feel closer to you when either of you were away from the other filming, that and- it gave him an insight on what you wanted out of the relationship and what you expected when you were in-love. He’d actually stolen a few date night ideas from your blog, which you didn’t mind because who could complain when he was doing everything you wanted.

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs and saw Chris walk past the living room. He stopped and turned back when he spotted you out of the corner of his eye. He stood in the archway and stretched, yawning loudly as he ran his hand over his bed hair.

“Morning.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek when he plopped down next to you. He grabbed a throw cushion and hugged it to his chest, resting his chin on it. “There’s coffee in the kitchen that you clearly need,” you chuckled and turned your attention back onto your iPad.

You spotted the number notification on your mailbox informing you that you had messages waiting. You opened it as Chris rested his head on your shoulder so he could see what you were. There were a few requests and prompts waiting for you but there was a particular one that caught your eye. You scrolled down to it and read.

[First off, you are an incredibly talent writer; I am always in awe after reading your work. Secondly, I’ve got an idea to propose to my girlfriend but I’m still unsure about how well it’ll fare with her. Could you write it into a story so I can see it play out? You can even work your magic and make it better. Here’s the idea: Y/N spends her free time writing cute little loves stories which leads Chris to write his own collection of love stories but about things that actually happen in their relationship. He gives her the book and on the last page, is the ring with the passage “will you give me my happily ever after?” Yeah, that’s about it. Thanks.]

“Why does he need me to improve on this?” You chuckled in amazement. “This is freaking amazing.” You glanced at Chris and he nodded with an indifferent expression. “You should learn from this anon, maybe you’ll get a few ideas.” You teased him and he rolled his eyes, yawning. “I wish this person didn’t go anonymous though, I’d love to talk to him and see how it went.”

“You gotta write the story first, it seems like he’s not going to propose until he sees how it played out in your world.” He said and you nodded, opening the Pages app so you could get started. “I’ll leave you to work your magic.” He pecked your cheek and tossed the cushion aside, rising to leave the room.

“Okay, anon.” You smiled and let your fingers fly across the touch pad. “Let’s get you engaged.”
• • • • • • • •
Moments after you posted the story, you got another anonymous message. From the content, you could tell that it was the same person. [Thank you so much, this is perfect. Here’s hoping she’ll respond like your character.] You smiled as you read the short but incredibly heartfelt thank you. You wish you could just hug this sweet person and be there when the proposal happened because it sounded so romantic.

“Y/N?” Chris poked his head into the room; you looked up from your iPad. “Hey,” he smiled and you smiled back. “Can you come with me? There’s something upstairs I need help with,” he walked into the room and held out his hand for you to take.

“Okay,” you allowed him to pull you to your feet. “Why are you all dressed up?” You asked when you realized he was no longer in his pajamas but in a black suit. “Are we going out? Should I be changing into something too?”

“No,” he chuckled, leading you up the stairs. “I was just trying on the suits Versace sent over and- I kind of spilt some coffee on one of them. I have to wear it to an event next week so I rushed down to see if you can help me before it stained.”

“Chris,” you scolded with furrowed brows. “I thought we talked about this, no food or drinks upstairs because we are incredibly careless people. What are we going to do if I can’t get the stain out? Your publicist is going to kill you.” He pressed his lips together. “Where is this suit?” You pulled your hand out of his when the two of you got to the top of the stairs, walking ahead of him and towards the bedroom. “I swear to-” You cut yourself off when you got to the door.

There were candles everywhere and the bedroom floor was covered in rose petals. You turned to Chris and he smiled, taking your hand and leading you further into the room. He stopped in front of the bed and released your hand, leaning forward to pick up the leather bound notebook. Your gaze fell on the notebook and you swallowed, feeling your stomach flutter when you realized he was doing everything you’d written.

“It’s about time someone wrote something for you to read.”

“Chris,” you couldn’t contain your smile as you took the notebook from him. “This is amazing…” You chuckled breathlessly as you flipped through the pages filled with his handwriting; stories upon stories of your relationships biggest milestones and adorable moments. “Oh my God,” you felt your eyes well with tears as you met his gaze. “You sent that prompt in, didn’t you?”

“Flip to the last page,” he beckoned his head at the notebook.

“Yes,” you nodded before you did; the diamond ring tied to the ribbon bookmark slid down the page and dangled in the air. “Yes yes yes,” you blurted out when you saw how beautiful the ring was and how handsome your soon-to-be fiancé looked.

“At least let me utter the words,” he teased as he untied the ring. “Okay, hand please?” You chuckled and gave him your left hand. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me, Y/N? And provide me with the happiest ever after?”

“Like you need to hear me say yes again, you already read the ending.” He chuckled and slipped the ring onto your finger. You held your hand in front of your face and admired your sparking diamond ring. “I think you just outdid all my fan fics.”

“Here I was thinking I’d never live up to your version of Chris Evans,” he pulled you into him and caressed your face. “I love you, Y/N.” He dipped his head and kissed you tenderly. “And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” he whispered when he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

“And the lived happily ever after,” you giggled softly.

Oh my god, thank you for responding to my message! I drew an Enno for you too, as thank you. You really make my day!

oh my GOSH THIS IS REALLY CUTE!! AAAA THANK YOU FOR MAKING MY DAY AND THANK YOU FOR THIS PRECIOUS CHIKARA I WILL TREASURE HIM FOREVER

Preference – XOXO: He finds your love note/doodle (Request)

So apparently I have no idea how to write short preferences.

Darry

Darry’s tools were his lifeblood, the reason for his existence as far as he was concerned. If anyone touched those tools they’d be dead. That’s exactly why his tool belt was you favorite hiding spot for notes; you knew he’d always look there.

You had to walk past the Curtis house every morning to work and would occasionally duck into the trunk of the pickup, stuffing a carefully written letter into his leather work bag. Tucking it safely away, you’d patted the bag and would continue down with a bounce to your feet.

Darry finds the note as he’s unpacking at the work site, a half-smile immediately appearing on his lips. He opens the letter to find your feelings spilling off the page. With furrowed brows he carefully inhales each of your words, his chest swelling with warmth. A call from the boss to get started has him tucking the note in his shirt pocket to read again later.

Dally

Sleeping over was always fun with Dally. Not only were you able to release some frustration, but wearing his shirts after left his scent on your skin for a few hours. Waking early the next morning you took a moment to scribble a little note before you left for work. You sealed it with a lipstick kiss and quietly went on your way.

Dally wakes to the door closing, sitting up slightly to search for your absence. Still tired he shifts his weight, turning over to his other side and lays back down. A hand swoops up to your side of the pillow and paper crinkles in his fingers. Curious, Dally brings the sheet to his face, unfolding it with delicate precision. There in sloppy red ink reads, “Love you, good lookin’.” Dally gives an involuntary chuckled, turning the note in his hands to see your lip stick stain. He brings his own lips to your print, sets it on the nightstand beside him, and falls into dreams of you.

Johnny

Your journal never left your side in fear an idea would strike you and you’d be stranded without a surface to scribble on. Every thought, troubling or exhilarating, filled its pages. Especially your feelings for Johnny. The gang had no idea of your feelings for him and it was your mission to keep it that way.

Sitting among the benches out front of the diner, your heart leaps as Johnny wonders up to sit with you. Closing your journal, you happily greet him as you offer to order something. Not one to deny food he accepts your offer for share an order of fries. Nervous, yet excited, you shoot up from your seat. Unfortunately for you, you’re so thrilled to see Johnny that you don’t notice your journal slip from the crook of your elbow.

The notebook drops, opening as it lands. Johnny’s gaze follows its motions, unintentionally reading the page that lays visible before him. His heart quickens, a blush forming on his neck as he reads your feelings for him. Every detail of your love for his greased back hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, and how the little scare on his cheeks somehow made him even more handsome. He sees you returning, scurrying to close the journal again before you reach the table. He’s jittery, suddenly sweating, as you take a seat. Handing you the closed notebook, to which you have a mini freak out, he stands fidgeting frantically as he profusely apologizes for having to leave so suddenly and thanking you for the food. He grabs a hot fry and stumbles backwards awkwardly. When he finally turns he’s well aware of the warm blush on his skin and the wide smile on his face.

Ponyboy

Ponyboy’s at your elbow asking your opinion on the most recent reading as you pack up your backpack, clumsily stuffing papers half-hazardly in the mess of your binder. In a rush to get to your next class across campus you’re a little shorter than intended with him. Apologizing for your abruptness, you hastily exit the classroom.

Unphased, a flicker of paper catches Ponyboy’s eye. It flutters to the floor, face down. He bends to pick it up, flipping it over to see your smooth cursive handwriting and doodles. A blush immediately reddens his ears, eyes scanning the sheet feverishly as he recognizes his name. There circled in hearts is “Ponyboy”. He glances up quickly to see if anyone else had seen the note and hurriedly stuffs it into his pocket. When he’s finally home he takes out the paper to review every inch of his name in your handwriting, adoring the little swoops of the ‘y’s. He keeps the note to his chest as he falls asleep with excited chills.

Soda

Drag racing was a shared passion between you and Soda, something that he absolutely loved about you. He adored the way you could holler louder than any girl there as the thrill of the race seemed to pour out of you. Afterwards he’d always take you out for a soda and a night drive to calm down after the wired race.

Windows down, the two of you passionately review the most recent race, arguing who really won at the photo-finish. The wind sweeps in blowing your hair wildly. He’s looking at you with such a loving gaze as he brushes a bang from your cheeks, a hand on the steering wheel and eyes glancing back and forth between you and the road. The argument calms as does your excitement, his car pulling up silently into your drive. You give him a sweet kiss goodbye, lingering on his lips dreading to pull away. You pop the car door open, but can’t bring yourself to leave just yet, there are so many more conversations to have. Glancing around the car you’re able to scavenge some spare paper and a pen, jotting down a quick note. His eyes are on you as you fold it, give it a small kiss, and lay it on his dashboard. With a bright smile you’re out of the car and at your front door, waving goodbye.

Soda sits in your front drive, carefully picking up your note, unable to wait to read it. The paper spreads, revealing, “I will always love you, my Sodapop Curtis.“ You’ve decorated the phrase with little hearts and arrows. His grin overtakes his face, heart swelling.

Steve

Steve’s giving you trouble for sitting atop the car hood of his most recent client. You stick out your tongue at him challenging him to do something about it. He’s on you, making you howling with laughter as he tickles your sides. You wiggle your way out of his hands, pouncing to the floor and skipping a few feet away. He makes no move to chase you, instead throwing his rag at you. You bounce out of range, deftly moving in as you pull a note from your pocket, steal a kiss to his check, and shove the paper in his shirt pocket. Swiftly stepping out of range again you blow air kisses as a goodbye.

He’s left standing with a smile tugging up to his ear. He shakes his head as he draws the letter from his uniform, curious. The envelope’s decorated with tiny flowers and smells of sweet perfume. Opening it, he finds a short note, "I love you more than you love cars. And that’s tough to do.” His laugh echos through the garage, his feelings for you blistering. Affectionately he tucks the letter back into its envelope and slides it into his back pocket.

Two-Bit

Two-Bit sure knew how to party, finding the cheapest beer possible and lighting up the night with as many people as he could find. A big partier yourself, you always made a point to know where he would be during the weekends. You got into a strange ritual of getting together every Friday and Saturday, partying your asses off, and then trying to feebly recover the next afternoon. The two of you got so use to one another that it naturally flowed into a relationship.

The previous night proved to be one of the biggest bashes ever. It was a miracle when you woke up the next morning without a throbbing hangover, though Two-Bit was still sleeping off his damage. You smiled at his light snores and gently ruffled his skewed quaff. Doodling a quick note, you rolled it, and stuffed it in the neck of an empty beer bottle. Placing it under Two-Bit’s arm you stole a peck on the cheek and was off.

The bottle hit the ground an hour later as Two-Bit adjusted his position. The twinge of the glass stirred him conscious enough to see the paper sticking from the top of the bottle. He leaned over to grab it, yanking the note out and clumsily uncurled it. The little drawing of Mickey and Minnie Mouse made him chuckle, tossing it to the adjacent table with a smile at the thought of you as he got up to shower.

anonymous asked:

I really like your handwriting! Makes the characters even more adorable

Y-YOU DO???? LMAO WOW, I never thought anyone would like my handwriting, it’s so plain and inconsistent asjkdhf– but thanks so much!! :’)))

anonymous asked:

who's handwriting you wished you had the most right now? also describe stellestudies handwriting and also yours

oooooo this is a tough question

i absolutely adore @studysthetics ‘s handwriting as well as @studyrelief and @studeying and @stellestudies and @smoinerd and @productiveflower and @mildlincrs and hhhhghh i know for a fact that i’m forgetting so many other amazing people with brilliant handwriting asdfghjkl

and as for @stellestudies ‘s handwriting, i think that it looks neat and that the z’s look super cute with the little dash through the middle and it’s like an aesthetic of its own and it’s easy to read and i like the way the letters are spaced out (i’m so bad at describing this oh noooo)

as for mine… i think that my words tend to be cramped and the spacing gets too close to each other when i’m writing fast. if i put in effort, i can make my letters neat and small and nicely rounded, but that’s usually not the case so they’re… i guess, longer? more angular?

Happy birthday to the boy whose smile lights up my world.
2

AHHH the letter finally came! Thank you so much @peachpurin for the drawing of Sakura! She looks so adorable in your style (*゚▽゚*) and here’s a fast doodle of Marinette for you 💝

stuff-alex-tumbles  asked:

Hi there! I hope this question isn't too weird but I absolutely adore your handwriting. Do you think you could post a picture of the alphabet/numbers with it? Thanks so much! :)

Hello, Thank you for your message and I don’t mind at all!

I added a line from my history textbook just because I do have joint up handwriting and it looks super different :)