#i tried to make it mostly print then i switched to my fast handwriting

[perrylapileon]

Genuinely so obsessed with them

[bittykimmy13]

Best Wishes (GT) ~ 2

A print named Autumn is caught off guard when a human, Tucker, seeks out her help in writing a love letter. Among a slew of problems she has with that, Autumn also has feelings for the target of Tucker's affections.

(( Read from the beginning ))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Normally, the bike ride home was the reason Autumn didn’t look forward to the end of her shift. Today, she had to worry about a different monster entirely. And then her ride home on top of that. As she dragged herself out of work, she was tempted to skip the library entirely. That might have been a viable option if there was a different route to the print housing district. Plus, there would be nothing stopping Tucker from chasing her down tomorrow if she flaked today.

She made her way to the print entrance of the library and locked up her bike under the canopy near the door. Pausing in front of the glass, she took a steeling breath.

It’s just one stupid letter. It’s good money. Don’t be a wuss.

Pushing past the door, she strode inside. With it being the middle of the summer, the scattered tables were mostly empty. There was a cart of tablets for rent, and it looked like not a single one was checked out. Made sense. There were no school assignments to do verified research for. With no one in need of assistance, the young clerk behind the desk was as out-of-use as the tablets. He was leaning back in his chair, watching a video on his phone without the smallest attempt at discretion.

Autumn glanced at the sets of doors scattered throughout the room. Not quite up to the task of exploring the place, she stopped in front of the desk and cleared her throat. The clerk didn’t look up.

“Excuse me.”

The clerk lifted his eyebrows first, then his gaze. She vaguely recognized him from high school—at least two years behind her. He didn’t seem to know her at all. “Yeah?” he grunted.

“What’s the quickest way to the human section?”

He frowned. “Uh… you mean research on human history? Tablets are right there. Grab one if you want. If you need help citing, it’s pretty straightforward—”

“No, I mean the human section of the building,” Autumn said.

“Oh.” He gave her a strange look. “Why?”

“I guess I’m meeting, uh… a friend.”

It must have looked like the word gave her an ulcer, because the clerk set his phone down and eyed her with concern. “You in some kind of trouble?” he said in a softer voice. “You know, if you’re having human problems, there’s people you can call about that.”

She almost laughed. If the local professional mediators were actually any good at their job, maybe she wouldn’t be so eager for summer to end so she could get the hell out of there.

“I’m making extra money helping some guy with a college admission letter,” she said, her voice tight with impatience. “Are you going to tell me which way to go, or not?”

“Oh, uh…” He pointed to a door on the far right, past the tables. “Go through there and up the stairs. Stick to the walkways to be safe. They go around most of the human section. If you need any help—”

“I don’t.” She walked off, her face burning.

She knew exactly where the clerk was coming from, being so worried. For one thing, she was alone. For another, prints had no reason to go to the human section when there were resources right in their own scaled room. Still, there were walkways for print accessibility in the human section. Some government officials must have pushed for it at some point in the name of unity.

At the top of the stairs, she passed another doorway, which led to the dizzyingly vast main building of the library. The structure of the inside looked older, which made sense. The print section had to have been added on many, many years after the main library was built. Much like the print section, there were tables scattered around, and charging stations for tablets. The most striking difference besides the scale of everything was the glass cases. There were shelves inside of them, stuffed with physical books that no one was allowed to touch. She had never seen anything like it before, outside of movies that showed libraries the way they had once existed.

Another, more troubling difference: there were actually patrons in this section. A few groups of humans chatted at the tables near the cafe. A librarian was reading to some kids on a corner rug. The tables near the shelves were occupied here and there, too. 

Autumn’s eyes landed on the furthest table, and she sighed in disappointment. She had hoped Tucker might forget, or maybe even change his mind. But there he was, hunched over a sheet of paper with a pen in his hand.

Keeping to the print walkway, Autumn rounded the perimeter of the room. The elevation kept her more or less level with human eyes. About halfway to her destination, Tucker lifted his head and looked around. She froze when his overwhelming gaze locked onto her.

A big grin spread across his face. “Autumn Yang! You’re here!”

Although she wasn’t anywhere near him yet, she staggered one step back from sheer surprise. Did he even notice that roughly ten pairs of eyes jerked toward him after his exclamation? She wanted the ground to swallow her whole when all those eyes followed his gaze and consequently settled on her.

Going against her instinct to bolt back to the safety of the print room, she forced herself to walk the rest of the way, getting as close to Tucker’s table as the elevated path would allow her. She stood away from the guardrail and looked down at him, clearing her throat.

“Think you can move over to this table?” she called. “That’ll make it easier.”

She glanced around self-consciously. A couple people were still looking, but thankfully, the rest had lost interest. That was unless the familiar faces by the cafe were murmuring conspiracies about why Tucker West was greeting a print so excitedly.

“Why? I’m already all set up over here.” Tucker stood and came over to the walkway. With him being so freakishly tall even for a human, he was still able to look down at her. Much to her horror, he lifted both hands in her direction. “Come on, I’ll take you over—”

“Stop!” She meant it to come out loudly, but all the breath left her lungs, diminishing her voice to a pathetic squeak. She bumped into the rail behind her.

Tucker frowned, opening and closing his mouth for a few seconds. “Sorry, I mean—I didn’t mean to freak you out. Honest. Look, I’ll be careful. This won’t be like the bike thing, I promise.” 

She tried to gauge his sincerity, wanting so badly to call this whole thing off. But she needed that money, and she wanted to be out of this stupid building as soon as possible. If that meant letting a human pick her up, then fine. There were plenty of witnesses around. There was no way a whole room of humans would simply ignore it if this was all some trick and Tucker was out to hurt her. He couldn’t be that stupid to try something here.

“Okay,” she breathed, white-knuckling the strap of her bag as she inched close to the rails in front of her.

To her surprise, uncertainty overcame Tucker’s face when his hands closed the distance. Which wasn’t exactly reassuring. He roped one hand around her waist, while the other sort of hovered uselessly on the other side of her. All the breath spilled out of her lungs when her feet left the walkway. He wasn’t moving fast or anything—it was just a little terrifying to place her entire literal life in the hands of some jock she barely knew. 

“Okay,” Tucker muttered, seemingly to himself as he pulled her away from the platform and started toward the table. “Okay, okay, this is fine, this is cool. We got this.”

He lowered her to his table. The moment his hand released her, she released her bag strap and gathered herself.

“Wow.” He gave her a crooked smile and took a seat on the chair in front of her. “Never done that before.”

She gave him a flat look. “Could you try not to be so exhilarated?”

“I mean, have you ever been, you know… picked up before?” he asked.

Clenching her jaw, she averted her gaze. “Sure I have. Every print has. Sort of comes with the territory when the world isn’t built for you.”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean? You’ve got walkways and little rooms, don’t you?”

She pursed her lips. As much as she wanted to explode on him, she was not here to talk print hardships with Tucker West, who wouldn’t understand empathy if it bit him on the ass. She turned her attention to the stack of sheets on the table. There were crumpled up wads of paper all around her, too.

“Let’s focus on the letter,” she said. “What do you need me for? Looks like you’re getting plenty of practice on your own.”

Tucker redirected himself like a switch flipping. “It’s not good enough, though. Like I told you, I’m not good with words. But you are, right? I just need some words. Some good ones, so she knows how I feel.”

A pang of regret slithered through Autumn. If it were anyone other than Lacey he was writing to, maybe she wouldn’t be so crabby. Crossing her arms tightly, she stepped closer to the paper and tried to ignore the fact that it meant she was stepping closer to him too. This guy couldn’t be more looming than he already was.

“Read what you’ve got so far,” she said, squinting at his handwriting. “And write slower for the next one. How do you expect her to know how you feel if she can’t even read what you’re saying?”

“Right. My bad.”

He scooted closer and leaned in, prompting Autumn to flinch back from the sudden movement. She kept her eyes on the table’s surface as he read out loud:

Dear Lacey,

I think you’re so beautiful. I bet you hear that a lot, but I really mean it. Not only that, you’re so smart and nice. Like wow. It’s so hard to find girls who are all three. Beautiful, smart, and nice. I mean even if you were just two of those things, I’d still be super into you. But you’re like all three, just to be clear.

Here’s a little about me. I’ve got two brothers and two sisters. I’m the best looking one of all of them, just so you know. I work in my parents’ furniture shop. So like I have money if you want to go do something like grab some food. 

I know a place that has really good milkshakes and fries. I like to dip the fries in the milkshake. Is that weird? I hope you don’t think that’s weird. If that’s weird, then I’ll stop doing it. Anyway, do you want to go out sometime?

Love, 

Tucker

“Oh, my god,” Autumn said slowly. She eyed all the wads of paper on the table and wondered how on earth this could be his best go at it. “That’s your love letter?” She squinted at the page. Even with his handwriting, she could see that roughly every other word was misspelled. 

“I told you I’m not good at this,” he said, his face flushing. “Is it that bad?”

“Get a fresh sheet.”

Tucker did as he was told, grabbing the pen as well. “Is there anything I can keep from mine? The milkshake thing is pretty important.”

“The only part we’re keeping from yours is ‘Dear Lacey’. We’re scrapping everything else.”

He made a dramatically choked noise. “Are you serious?”

“Lacey’s not gonna take that seriously! Trust me. She won’t be very impressed. Now, do you want my help or not?” She started pacing in front of the paper, feeling Tucker’s eyes follow her intensely after he wrote the greeting at the top. “Look, I can tell you you’re not gonna get anywhere with her with the whole ‘you’re not like other girls’ thing. She’ll roll her eyes and toss it in the trash.”

“Oh. For real? Huh. Then what should I write?”

“You said she’s smart and nice. What makes you say that?”

“Well, whenever she would walk into class, you could just feel it, you know?”

Autumn knew. “What else?”

“Uh…” He planted his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, rattling the ground beneath Autumn’s feet. “I dunno, she’s just so pretty.”

“More than that, Tucker.”

“She never makes fun of people! How about that? And like, when she does tease someone, you can tell she’s just goofing around. And she ends up making people feel better instead of worse when she jokes.”

Autumn stopped pacing. Maybe he understood Lacey’s light better than she thought. “Okay, start with this. I wouldn’t consider myself a shy person, yet here I am, writing a letter to tell you the things I’m not brave enough to say aloud. Even if things don’t work out the way I hope…” She swallowed hard, praying that Tucker wouldn’t notice that these words were coming from a much deeper place than her impersonation of him. “Maybe you’ll find some comfort in having all the things that make you brilliant in writing. Because a person as brilliant as you deserves to know just how brilliant she is.”

Tucker said nothing. When Autumn looked up, she found him staring, mouth agape.

“Holy shit,” he said. “How’d you do that?”

“Just write it!”

“Okay, okay.” He was grinning again, his excitement palpable. 

The sound of his pen scratching against the paper drew her eyes down. Just like that, he was stealing her words. No, buying them, she reminded herself.

“Could you repeat all that?” he asked.

She repeated it, and then some. Over the next hour and a half, they traded the way that Lacey was a brilliant person. Autumn kept needing to steer him away from focusing on Lacey’s looks alone, but at least he eagerly agreed with her suggestions.

You light up a room, and you keep that light going, even on your worst days. One of my favorite things was when you would tap on someone and whisper “I thought that too” when they got an answer wrong in class. You’d do it quietly, so you wouldn’t draw attention to how nice you were. But I noticed.

“I didn’t even know she did that,” Tucker said with a sigh, scribbling it down. “Isn’t she awesome?”

“Yeah,” Autumn muttered.

She had him write and rewrite and rearrange and spell-check until the letter was perfect and as legible as it was going to get. Then she had him read it aloud three more times before she decided her work was done. Considering that toothy grin he couldn’t seem to wipe from his face, she had a satisfied customer.

“This is perfect,” he said, hunkering down so that his eyes were nearly level with her. “You’re amazing. Like, a poet. Ever win any guys over with this stuff? I mean, you’d probably have a boyfriend on lock if you wrote someone a letter like this.”

Just like that, her walls went back up. “Oh, no. I’m not talking about my love life with you. Focus on your own, so you don't need anyone helping you flirt.”

He chuckled and straightened back up. No sooner than she had her personal space back, he invaded it again by holding his hand out for a handshake. Or rather, a fingershake. She really wished he’d stop doing that, but at least this time she wasn’t scared for her life that it was some trick.

“Thanks for this,” he said, blessedly pulling his hand back. “Really. I don’t want her to see me as just some dumb jock. I mean… it really sucks sometimes, you know? People expect me to be a certain way because of how I look.”

Autumn stared at him in disbelief. “Yeah, must suck being super ripped and tall and athletic.”

He nodded earnestly. “See, you get it.”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but a small laugh escaped anyway. She had to admit—there was a kernel of truth to his statement. He acted a lot nicer than she assumed he would be. 

“Wait, I still gotta sign it, right?” Tucker lifted the pen.

“Hang on. Don’t put Love, Tucker.”

“Why not? I’m in love with her.”

“Yeah, but that’ll scare her off.” She thought on it a moment. “Best wishes. That one. It’s a pretty safe bet, and it matches the rest of the letter pretty well.”

He sighed. “Fine, okay. You’re the love letter expert.” 

“Writing expert.”

“Don’t lie, Autumn Yang. I bet you secretly read a bunch of romance books and just don’t wanna admit it.” Before she had a chance to dispute that, he started to stand. “Okay, so we’re done, right? I just slip it under her door? But first I guess you need a lift back to the walkway.”

“Actually, there’s one more thing.” Autumn pulled out her phone and gave him a serious look despite being caught under his shadow. “Payment. And I think I’ll slap on an extra ten percent for that romance book accusation.”

[bruciewayne]

nearly perfect

dyslexic steve rogers, steve + tony friendship, 1940s ideals, internal ableism(?) 

The Serum fixed so many things, and did more than fix. Erskine made him so much better than he ever could be, than he ever should be, really, and according to all the records, and all the posters and comics and black-and-white reels, he’s a perfect man. 

And he is. Nearly. He’s perfect in almost every way possible. Almost. If you were to look at him, nothing would be wrong anymore, if you were to tell him to run a city block, he could, fast enough to rival most cars, without breaking a sweat, if you were to send him to the front lines he could hold his own, he could lead, he could win.

But if you were to hand him a mission report, or a long list of European places along the front lines, or, hell, a list of all 48 American states, and tell him to read it aloud in a timed condition? The letters still swam and flipped and switched places pretty much however they pleased.

Didn’t fix that.

It was the very first thing he tested, after the whole street-fight thing. He pushed three cents into the hand of the first seller he saw and pulled the paper open to a random page (reminding himself to reign in his new strength) tried to read the article, he tried and he tried and it was like he was back in school and Miss Luthor was calling him stupid and striking him across the knuckles, and he was trying to defend himself and Miss was telling him to stop making excuses and Bucky was trying to defend him, saying that it wasn’t his fault, that he was just born like that, the way that his asthma wasn’t his fault, and Steve himself was just trying and trying to figure out the name of the author The Three Musketeers, wishing that he could just get it, the way everyone else could, the way he could look at something and copy it down on paper near-exactly with a blunt pencil.

Erskine made him look perfect, made him the perfect soldier, but he didn’t stop the letters from floating about and rearranging, and he didn’t stop him from looking at boys the way he should look at girls.

Didn’t fix that either.

But it’s fine. 

Because now, he’s actually respected, as a person and as a part of the US Army (he definitely won’t be if he tells them that other flaw), he gets the important stuff verbally, and just the details in writing, and even then, he can just pretend, and pretend and pretend, that he’s taking too long because he’s doing a thorough job (and he is, because he wasn’t about to lead his men, or send any men, into a place when he was absolutely certain that it wasn’t another place) and pretend that finally, finally, he’s just like everyone else (but he’s not, even though he was meant to be, according to Erskine’s journal that Howard gave him, he stood out, but nowhere near as much as he did before).

And then 70 years pass with him dead to it all.

He wakes up, and it’s not the first thing on his mind, but he hopes that he can just pretend again. Then he’s pushed into a room full of books and a slim metal thing that apparently has access to all the books in the world and then he’s given paper files about people he once knew and people he’s supposed to get to know.

The next few weeks are a blur, he overhears some people talking about how slow he is, and how bad his spelling is and how bad his handwriting is and one of the younger agents laughs and attributes it to his ‘old-man 1940s-ness’. He tries not to think about how that agent is probably older than him, technically. 

He’s grateful for that, in all reality, because he can carry on pretending, until, until when?

Until they realise that he’s far too dumb to be Captain America, he supposes that pretended could’ve flown in the past (barely a month ago), but now? Where everyone’s smarter and everything is faster and he’s expected to be smarter and faster, he’s not going to last. He’s just. Not going to last.

He makes it three months.

By this time, they (the Avengers) are all living in the (big, ugly, and straight from the future) Tower and Steve’s mostly caught up with the future. He’s allowed to like men now. Not that Captain America can be gay. But maybe Steve Rogers can.

Tony notices first. Not the gay thing, the other thing. The dumb letter thing.

“O, Captain! What do you think about it? Who we gotta send?” Tony asks as soon as the briefs are in their hands. The letters are still floating about, refusing to settle.

Steve tries to stall, because he can’t say ‘I don’t know’ (“Rogers! What on God’s green Earth do you think you mean when you say ‘I don’t know’? The words are right there, for God’s sake, stop horsing around for five seconds and actually try for once, maybe then you’ll have half a chance of living on your own dime.”), because he can’t seem utterly and completely clueless. He manages about three long and excruciatingly painful seconds (it’s been three months, it’s been long enough that he should be better, smarter, faster. And he is, but still only with the maps and the shapes and everything that isn’t fucking reading.), staring at the paper, trying to make sense of it with everyone’s eyes on him, before Tony breezes on, giving his opinions, as though it was Tony himself being slow (not that Steve has ever, in the short, short time he’s been here, seen him be anything under 70 miles an hour, even sleep-deprived and hungover, he’s always been so, so much faster than everyone else).

He hopes to God that he didn’t imagine that wink.

After the meeting, after they have a solid plan and a decent rollcall for the mission, Tony curls his hand and his elbow and tugs him back into the room just as he’s about to leave.

“I don’t wanna assume anything, and you can stop me if this is like, a whole galaxy off-base or something, but I made you something, uh, programmed really, the tablet’s been in circulation for a couple months already, made you a program, that dictates briefs, and whatever else you want to put on there, to you, ’cause, and uh, I’m not calling you stupid or anything, but I’ve noticed that you have a hard time with reading? So, here.”

Tony pushes a tablet in his hands and then steps away and rocks on the balls of his feet.

Steve takes it carefully in his hands. “I, uh, thank you, Tony, really, I, um, the whole reading thing, can you maybe… not tell anyone?”

Tony looks surprised but he agrees, “Do you want me to show you how to use it?”

“Please?”

Tony sits and gestures to a seat and launches into an explanation, “So, JARVIS pretty much runs this, you can type or talk and he’ll talk or type back…”

“...then I told her that the letters never stayed in the same place and--” Steve mimes a whip, “--right around the knuckles with the good old wood rule.”

“A wooden ruler!? I’ll be honest, a good part of me thought that that was fictional,” Tony admits, leaning back. They’re long past teaching Steve how to use the tablet and the sun’s long since on the other side of the planet, but they’re still in the conference room, far away from anything about personalised dictation programs.

Steve raises an eyebrow, “Well, gay marriage seems pretty fictional to me.” 

As soon as that leaves his mouth he feels his blood freeze and slow down in his veins, but all Tony does is nod, conceding, and says, “Touche.”

They’re silent, for a moment, watching the city below, before Tony speaks up again, “I don’t want to assume anything, but the whole letters thing sounds a great deal like dyslexia.”

At Steve’s blank look he explains, “It’s a thing, mental disability, that means you find it hard to read, that the letters move around. No effect on your actual intelligence.”

Steve knows that mental issues are treated much, much better nowadays, that Shellshock has a real name, and is a real Thing and isn’t ‘cowardly’ anymore (because there was nothing cowardly, ever, about kids waking up screaming because of the damn war). 

But taking in that he’s not entirely alone, or helpless, or downright retarded for the first time in his long twenty-five years? A fucking relief.

“Come to the workshop, I’ll have JARVIS run some tests, see if we can get you some overlays or something,” Tony says, standing up and reaching a hand out to Steve.

Steve takes his hand and lets himself be pulled up.

“You know,” Tony starts, when they sit back and wait for the results to render (and if, the results are already rendered, and JARVIS and Tony have a morse code shorthand, then that’s only something Tony and JARVIS know (and Natasha because she caught on the first time she was down here)), “I have anxiety, depression, PTSD, ADHD and alcohol and drug abuse on my file.”

“I’ve seen your file,” Steve says, confused.

“Dyslexia can go in yours and the only thing that’ll change is that anything printed, you’ll get on pink paper,” Tony explains, gently.

“JARVIS,” Steve starts, voice cracking a little, “official Avengers file change, Rogers, Steven Grant…”

-

‘insecurity’ for happy steve bingo

[msmcporkchop]

The Happy Planner: Stuff I love, how I use it and more!

We have made it home from CHA/Creativation! Ashleigh & I had such a nice time! We met so many nice peeps and learned a ton about the craft industry. I only have a few photos from the show, both my camera & my phone were having some sort of meltdown which was super bad timing! But I do have a blog post planned with some of the neat products I tried and things I want to try in the future. I came down with pneumonia on Christmas and it has worn me out. I kept losing my voice which was embarrassing! I plan on catching up on a lot of sleep this weekend!

In November I went to Michael's and came across The Happy Planner. I saw them all over Instagram and thought they were pretty cute! But I was using a really nice Kikki.K for personal planning and a Rifle Paper planner for work planning. Michael's had a ton of cute planners, accessories, etc but I wasn't sure about the ring system. I'm notoriously hard on things and thought for sure I'd be losing pages! I ended up holding off until December when I scored a 60% off coupon + 20% off your total purchase. I picked up the Classic Minty Fresh because I really liked the dividers and the page colors. Since purchasing it, I've become totally obsessed! I thought I'd share it with you today along with some of my favorite supplies.

I use my Happy Planner as a combo of a personal daily planner + daily memory keeper. I use a lot of stickers, stamps, pens, scrapbook supplies and washi in my pages. It's a big mishmash of thoughts and journaling is something I really look forward to working on each day. I like to either spread everything out on my living room floor or just grab a few pens and curl up in my chair, writing away. It's cozy and a nice way to spend a little quiet time.

I totally admit that my personal life isn't all that exciting or busy and this is exactly what I struggled with when first using Hobonichi. It's easy to see journals and planners online and think your life doesn't quite compare. I've felt those thoughts. Trust me. But I've learned that for me, embracing the quiet makes me appreciate what I have so much more. I write about what books I'm reading, the weather, coffee with friends, shows Eric & I have watched, birds we've seen, outfit combos that I liked wearing along with practical things like grocery shopping, hair appointments, doctor's visits, etc. It's a collection of a lot of little moments that make up each day! Also: colorful! 

Some of my pages have a ton of stuff on them and some don't have much at all. Blank spots are fine and I don't mind if things run into each other or off the page. I don't stress about it! It seems against the rules to be unhappy while working in a happy planner. ;) The above page was from last weekend, I had so much to share that it's just all over the place! I tested out inks from different manufacturers, stamps and pens at CHA on this page, stamped the Saguaro National Park Passport and printed a photo of Ashleigh's first roadrunner sighting, and more! It's all over the place and I like that. 

The best part of The Happy Planner for me is how fast and easy it is to customize. I've made a bunch of covers by laminating pretty scrapbook paper, I've switched out the rings, I've made folders and dividers. I really like this aspect because I *adore* holiday things. I like that I can use a million Valentine's Day things and totally indulge in all the seasonal goodness!

I like to buy clip art from Creative Market for stickers and printables from Etsy. A few shops I've tried and have gotten really nice sets from are: ElysianPrintsCo, ilove2print and DesignLovelyStudio. I do have a Cricuit Explire Air 2 that I occasionally use for shaped stickers or cutting out folders (I use this cut file!) but mostly I print stickers and kiss cut them by hand with an exact-o knife. I find it relaxing in the evenings. 

I've also purchased some stickers from Etsy that have been super cute! I really love the quality of CleverGirlCraft's foiled stickers, Honeyinked clear stickers, Virgoandpaper kits and Paperandmilk!

In 2015 Ashleigh & I fell down the rabbit hole of stamps. We spent so much time sending flurries of texts back and forth with wish lists of stamps. There are SO many cute stamps out there! Obviously I'm going to mention Waffle Flower Crafts first because Ashleigh designed stamps for them and they are super cute! ;) I'm not the best stamper but on my pages they are the cross stitch cactus and unicorn! I bought an ink set from them last weekend and I've really enjoyed stamping with it! It comes in a cute box which I like, I don't have a ton of room left in my craft cart so I appreciate self contained things. ;) I also really like Pinkfresh, Mama Elephant, and Lawn Fawn! This moon phase stamp is super high on my wishlist right now along with this Bear and Bird stamp set!

And I love fine pens! On JetPens website you can search gel pens and then tip size. I prefer .38 if possible. I have very messy handwriting and fine tip pens make it so I can fit more of it in a small space. ;) One thing I've recently become obsessed with are pens that have tinted black inks! Like Bordeaux Black! It's black but also super deep and rich wine color. They are based in California and I usually get my order within a day or two. I've also had great experiences with The Goulet Pen Company. 

I found this cute little clear envelope at Staples! It's from the Martha Stewart discbound collection and I think it was around $4. I kept business cards and our business license in it last weekend and it was SUPER handy. 

I am forever forgetting to use promo codes and coupons. I made this little folder and tucked all the things that expire next month right with the February divider so if I decide to buy something, I have everything all in one place! 

And finally, a bit of happy mail. I've had my eye on this set of Field Notes for ages and finally bit the bullet! I have no idea what I'll write in them but sheesh, they are so beautiful!