and i still have two pages left


october. 🌿  found an old typewriter, which i am now trying to restore. found white flowers, which i have now pressed between pages of books. found newfound strength, found that it’s okay to cry. found new shadows in the changing light. only two months left in year and still: “i keep trying to be delicate. i’m not telling everything.” 🌿  insta 🌿 

Deeper Than Ink | 01

P R E M I S E ⇒

Should you fall in love with someone, even in the slightest, your skin becomes marked with vibrant colors that depict the story of your emotions. A tattoo, per say. However, should they or you fall out of love, the bright hues dull to black and the feelings you once had for each other melt away. To many, it’s a blessing to not have to live with the pain of your past. But what’s the point when you have too many reminders–say 27?

P A I R I N G ⇒  namjoon x reader

G E N R E ⇒  angst, tattoo au, soulmate au

W O R D S ⇒  7.281

P A R T ⇒  one | two | three

Pebbles bounced against the sidewalk, caught between the concrete and the rubber soles of boots dragging across the pavement. The movement was slow and the sound was reminiscent of a modern romantic defeat, another tally to add to the chalkboard. Another inked reminder that would be incomplete on a pale skin canvas.

A single finger rose to itch at the back of a studded ear, scratching just above the intricate black swirls of patterned water that was splayed over a neck. The owner of this design–and the 27 others cluttering his skin–wasn’t a lost cause or a serial romantic as many had come to believe. But potentially the most unlucky man in the world.

There were many others like him, decorated in dozens of these brandishes to signify their accomplishments in a manner akin to a trophy shelf. Their skin was littered with these marks of past lovers who were only intended to become blackened symbols. However, hoarding tattoos of ones he adored was not a game to him like it was to others; he feared the attention and judgment that his ink gave him.

He was enamored by people and their stories, the things they had to say and the words that they would whisper to him. Falling for them was simply a side effect of his own curiosity that he had no control over, as the patterns would only appear when the emotions were mutual. People were drawn to him, not for the art etched into him, but for his elegant thoughts and charming words.

Keep reading

Hello friends!! So to celebrate 6k+ followers, I promised you all that I would finally get onto doing a bullet journal system post- and a mini-tour of my own bullet journal.

What is the bullet journal system?

The bullet journal system is a planning system designed for rapid logging tasks using ‘bullets’ and 'collections’ to organise your day to day life. It can be used by anyone, for students, for professionals and even for the everyday person. It was designed by Ryder Carroll. I suggest watching the original bullet journal videos before proceeding with your system to get down to basics. 

It can be customized as minimally or as decoratively as you would like- it’s your adaption of the system that matters. Ryder Carroll even stated that “If you look forward to coming back to your book and feel like it’s your ally, then you’re doing it right.” and praised both simple journals and embellished ones too. Each bullet journal system is unique from one another. As long as you are following the skeleton of the original system and enjoying your own journal and achieving your goals- you’re doing everything right. There is no set rules of aesthetics- so whether your bujo is simple or not, as long as you’re enjoying yourself then you’re a-okay!

Do I need x or y skills/stationery to have a successful bullet journal?

No not at all. You don’t need a Leuchtturm1917, a Moleskine, a Rhodia, a Hobonichi or a fancy notebook. A simple notebook would work too. You don’t need fancy pens, fine liners, markers, coloured pencils to pretty up your system too.  You only need a pen. One of my close friends uses her bullet journal with just her pen and a small A6 notebook she found from the local book store. There are no specifications of what size, style or paper you have to have with a bullet journal! You don’t need washi tape to decorate your journal, but if you want to- go for it!

You don’t need to have the most perfect handwriting or fancy lettering skills or drawing skills. Your journal doesn’t need to be artistic if that doesn’t fit into your lifestyle. Some people prefer to have distinguished headers so they can easily scan through a page and find what they need.  Some people don’t have the time to make their pages pretty- to fit into the “studyblr aesthetic”. Some people can’t afford buy fancy stationery and notebooks: and that’s totally fine.

Why the bullet journal system?

It’s not for everyone! And that’s alright. But the reason why the bullet journal system is so popular is because it’s so customizable and can be personalized. People use this for journaling, for tracking every day habits and for writing notes and many other reasons. It’s such a simple system and can be started right now in any notebook you have.

You don’t need fancy notebooks or special supplies to start your bullet journal. You only need a pen and a notebook so you can get started. However, some people don’t like having to create titles for their pages and that’s fine- you can also bullet journal in a planner system too! But you can discontinue it any time you want and go back to regular planning if you wish.

What’s in a bullet journal?

Every bullet journal needs the basics. Every bullet journal should follow at least some elements of this skeleton.

  • An Index - A compiled list of your pages for future reference.
  • A Key - A compilation of your bullets for your system. Bullet points distinguish the difference between a task, it being completed or moved. They also distinguish whether or not it’s an event too.
  • Future Log - A list of future events for the upcoming months; usually for the next three months or for next year.
  • Monthly Log - Where you transfer events from your future log, an overview of the current month’s tasks, events and projects.
  • Daily Log - Daily tasks which are rapidly listed through the day. Notes are usually written under the current day. If a task isn’t finished in one day, it can be easily transferred to the next page using a 'moved task’ bullet.
  • Collections - Collections are lists of whatever you wrote down in your 'notes’ during a week. Books you have read, shows you watched, things you want to collect? Put it in a collection.

There are so many different adaptions of the bullet journal system!

My Adaptation of the Bullet Journal System

My bullet journal has been altered slightly from Ryder Carroll’s and embellished for my personal enjoyment. It’s been tweaked and changed many times and designed for what I need to track! I like to theme my weeks and pages to one colour to keep things simple – sans the colour coding I have for specifics like Work or Uni. It’s simple yet decorative at the same time and it’s perfect for me. I use a Leuchtturm1917 grid notebook, for reference.

This is how I shaped my bullet journal to be mine!

Keep reading

How I make a Schmaltz page

Some people ask me, how are you able to draw this and that when it’s traditional art? How do you make it look so good? How can I make comics without the means of digitial software? Well strap right in as I share my secrets!

Format and storyboard wise, try to use different angles/close ups in each panel. There’s a whole lot when it comes to designing a comic format, but really it’s all just cinematic. 

I use lots of gray tone markers from the lightest cool grey to the warmest dark grey. And for spots that do have color I use brush markers/copic markers. Most of my grey tone markers are able to be layered in a way when drying so then the more I color, the darker it gets, to make shading. I use 0.5 pens on thick 9x6 inch paper. Here is the page when it’s done

Grey and black and white with a splash of color on key areas like Irdial’s marigolds or the horn used to honk at Irving and his colorful orange hair. This is just my style and you can color your comic any way you like. I don’t have a scanner, so what I do is put as much light on the draw, try not to make darker areas where the light doesn’t fully shine, and take a picture of my works. The next thing I do is make the entire colors of the page looks either red/warm or bluish/cool is tone. I do this by putting a filter  balancing the colors and make them all lean towards warm tones. The result:

Now everythings so warm and cozy. But, the bottom seems to look lighter than the top. This happens when a light is direct from a certain angle so it wouldnt light the whole drawing equally. This is fixed by multiplying the image on, change the opacity try to make each section; top, middle, and bottom have an equal level of brightness. I also edit out coloring mistakes or smears of ink, and make the words more legible.

Just look at the difference!

There are youngsters who want to get serious with art and comic but may not have all the resources. Well one thing youve all learned is that I dont have a scanner but I still managed by 1. Having a good light when taking a pic..and 2. sometimes filters make it look nicer.

The drawing in the upper right is the only one with a filter, makes it more blue. The other two were left as is. Photo editing apps are good too, the one I use is Pixlr for ios.

Whelp, that’s all I got for now, hope any of this info was interesting and helpful!

Art Blog  - Page 1 of Schmaltz - Commission Info

anonymous asked:

What's your dream project?

I have two musical concepts and two graphic novel concepts that I plan on finishing. One of the musicals has a lot of work done, but there’s still a lot of work left to do.

If you look up #artists on tumblr on my page then you will be able to find three previews for two different songs from my musical, but it will be a long time before the musical is finished.

Darker Sentence Meme

“A cleaved head no longer plots.”
“A conversation of silence, lies left unspoken.”
“A dying man needs to die as a sleepy man needs to sleep.”
“A lot of truth is said in jest.”
“A lot of you cared. Just not enough.”
“Afraid to love you hide away.”
“Although I search myself it’s always someone else I see.”
“Although we are through, I’m longing for you.”
“Am I invisible? Am I soundless? Or am I just alone?”
“And they didn’t even put up a fight.”
“And they didn’t even put up a fight, they didn’t even make a sound.”
“Anxious, you laughed. Sad, you smiled.”
“Are you proud of who I am?”
”At least I’m being honest.”
”But I’ve got better things to do than let you walk all over me.”
“’Cause I’m not convinced I’m worth your time.”
”Can still remember the time you were here.”
”Can you see me? Can you hear me? Or am I not here?”
“Can’t believe what I did for love.”
”Can’t you forgive me? At least just temporarily.”
“Can’t you hear me calling? Can’t you see me falling? I’m lost without you here.”
“Constantly lying to myself just to get through the day.”
”Death has been crooning in my ear things I want to hear.”
“Don’t bother to cry, no one will hear you.”
“Don’t go where I can’t follow!”
“Don’t you try to fix what’s broken, no one else can take your place.”
“Ending it will just pass on the pain, I know, but I’m selfish enough to just want it gone.”
”Feel like a failure, ‘cause I know that I failed you.”
“Feel like a shadow walking behind who you think I am.”
”Give me one good reason to love you, for I can’t think of any.”
“Go ahead and leave me – I never needed you anyway!”
“Guess there’s a part of me that likes to bring you down just to keep you around.”
“Heartburn. Reminding me I fucked up.”
“How did I miss you when I didn’t know you?”
“How do you love someone without getting hurt?”
“How do you warn the people you love that you may not come back?”
“I am just so angry with myself.”
“I chose the easy way out.”
“I could be long gone. I could be a ghost in your eardrum.”
”I don’t care if you’ve got them on your mind, all I really care is if you wake up in my arms.”
”I don’t deserve it, I know.”
“I don’t hate you, I fear you.”
”I feel broken and hollow.”
”I got nothing here without you.”
“I just want to not be me.”
“I killed myself by leaving you.”
”I know I should’ve fought it.”
”I know I should’ve fought it, at least I’m being honest.”
”I know that this is my fault.”
”I know you wouldn’t even notice.”
”I made a mess of me.”
”I should’ve been more careful.”
”I still don’t miss you yet.”
”I swear, I’ll make it worth it.”
“I thought I could imagine how much it would hurt, but I was wrong.”
“I told you to leave me… Don’t.”
“I trusted you not to go.”
”I was a liar, I gave into the fire.”
“I wish I could remember.”
“I would have stayed up with you all night had I known how to save a life.”
“I would never die for you.”
“I’d like for it all to stop now. Please.”
”I’m a walking heartache.”
“I’m a work in progress and I’m not so sure I’ll like the end result.”
“I’m not enough for you.”
“I’m not fine as in fine, but fine as in you don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing.”
”I’ve been a fool – a fool for you.”
“I’ve hurt myself by hurting you.”
“If you care to look around then you’ll see me going down.”
“If not for me then you’d be dead.”
“If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy, I could’ve won.”
“It doesn’t do a damn thing to fix anything.”
“It’s a long way down, but here I am.”
“It’s just not meant to be.”
“Leave your mark on love before love leaves you.”
“Let me hang in peace.”
“Life’s greatest gift is the freedom it leaves you to step out of it whenever you choose.”
“Losing hope is the real disaster.”
“Love? Great? That’s bullshit, love hurts.”
“Memory is a curse more often than a blessing.”
”No more lies if you don’t wanna find me gone.”
“Now everything I see reminds me of all that is said and done.”
“Now you’re just somebody that I used to know.”
“Of all the things I’ve had and all the things I’ve lost I miss you the most.”
“On my own I’m only half of what I could be.”
”One last time I need to be the one to take you home.”
”One more time. I promise, after that I’ll let you go.”
“Our souls contain more scar tissue than life.”
“Pain is a pesky part of being human.”
“People are different – it’s not always a good thing.”
“Promising to stay you slowly walked away.”
”Return us to when you know how to love.”
”Said you’d change but I’m afraid it’s something I won’t live to see.”
“Save your time for someone deserving of it.”
“Silent tears invisible to the naked eye, but still they drown you.”
“So sick of believing the lies and trying to hide, covering the cuts and bruises.”
“Some days I feel broken inside.”
“Some people make me want to throw up.”
“Somebody tell me why I’m on my own if there’s a soulmate for everyone.”
“Soon I will be just another memory.”
“Stay with me a minute, I swear I’ll make it worth it.”
“Stop caring– I don’t deserve it.”
”Stories are all we’ll ever have.”
“Surrounded by pale people, think I’m fading too.”
“Tell me you love me, say you care. Lie straight to my face.”
“That constant judgement you can’t avoid.”
“The marks humans leave are too often scars.”
”The person I’ve been lately isn’t who I want to be.”
“The world is full enough of hurts and mischances without wars to multiply them.”
“There are some things you never really move on from.”
“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”
“There is no relationship in life beyond betrayal.”
“There’s more here than what we’re seeing.”
”These scars are reminders of just how much I can take.”
“They didn’t even make a sound.”
“They say bad things happens for a reason.”
”This morning I woke up hating us both.”
“Trying to save myself from choking, just wish that I could see your face.”
“Used to think you didn’t love me, now I know you don’t.”
“What am I still doing here?”
“What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?”
”What I wouldn’t give for peace.”
”What, like it matters? Since when?”
“What is left without your love?”
“We cannot tear out a single page of our life, but we can throw the whole book in the fire.”
“We learn so little from peace.”
“We were great once. Where did that go?”
“What hope I have left flickers like a candle about to go out.”
“When you sleep, will it be with me?”
“Why am I still living this dark and hurtful life?”
“Why do I bother?”
“Why do I let you hurt me so?”
“Why do I love you?”
”You break your promises in two, what can I do?”
“You call it a simple mistake, but to me it’s not simple at all.”
“You deserved better.”
“You don’t care about me like I do you.”
“You leave me and I’ll leave you.”
“You remind me of things I’d rather forget.”
“You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts.”
”You’ll always be love’s great martyr.”
“You’ve got an excuse. What’s mine?”
“Your life is worth more than mine.”
“Your pain is my happy ending.”
みか🐽永遠にゼフェル様最愛 on Twitter
“5月号買ってきた! 今月号合わせて後3回! #7SEEDS”

7Seeds is going to end.

The text in the red circle say there is still two chapters left (not including the one in the new issue I assume). The last chapters will have more pages than usual (The 80P noted above)

I don’t know what to say?! I was expecting it to end “soon” because looking at raw scans, we were certainly getting close to that but I feel like it really need an epilogue showing us a good amount of all the characters and I’m a bit afraid we won’t get that.

For now, wait & see, I guess.


Anonymous asked: “hey my handwriting sucks an d i’ve alwyas hated handwritng my notes bc they take forever & a mess. any tips?”

Anonymous asked: “do you ever type your notes? do you think it’s better?”

i’ve gotten a few asks about not handwriting notes, and i wanted to respond publicly saying: yes, i feel you on that handwriting notes take forever and they often look messy and chaotic; personally, i am a much faster typer (my wpm is like 90 or something lol) and i like to be able to go back and add things that i might have missed before, without making it seem all squished up. 

i wanted to show you a sample of my chemistry notes (PLEASE DO NOT TAKE WITHOUT CREDIT), which i often type up instead of handwriting them. as you can see, i incorporated pictures and colors (that corresponds with my chemistry book). one of the main reasons i like typing my chemistry notes is because of the way i format my notes. this format allows me to easily identify the main concepts and details. in addition, if the book references back to a concept, i can add that detail right underneath the concept; whereas in contrast to handwriting notes, i would have to take a sticky note or try to squish the detail into whatever remaining space i have left on the page (again the whole messiness thing). and also i can add pictures, whether they’re from my book or online (this saved me when trying to draw s, p, d, f orbital shapes)

but, like all things, this is all up to you! i still handwrite my math notes and latin notes, but my history and chemistry notes are both typed. these two subjects have more pages of notes. i cut down on the note-taking time by typing it and allow myself more time to study.

hope this was a tiny bit helpful? if you want a more in-depth post, feel free to ask for it. if you have any more questions, send me an ask or a message! 

Bath Bomb

Y/N had almost had the bath in her apartment removed for a walk in shower. The large corner bath had been useless to Y/N for the three years she had lived in her Brooklyn apartment – baths were boring. A quick shower did her just fine but having to climb into the vast tub and stub her toe on the way out quickly grew tiresome.

‘What’s this called again, babydoll?’

God she loved when he called her that. The scruff on Bucky’s chin tickled as he rubbed it playfully against Y/N’s naked shoulder, she laughed quietly, the giggle echoing in the steamy bathroom. She was glad she had kept the bath afterall, 'A bathbomb. It’s called a fizzbanger and I thought it might be fun.’

'A bomb…for the bath?’ Bucky looked over her shoulder at the yellow ball of bicarb in his hand, his lips quirking in a sort of smile as he pulled her a little closer to his body, 'Seems dangerous to me – want me to defuse it?’ The metal plates of his left arm flexed slightly as his hand threatened to crush it.

Water sloshed around them both as she wrapped her hands around his and the bomb, protecting it from being crushed prematurely. 'No! You have to put it in the water nicely, let it fizz for a while! Apparently it changes colour or…pops or something…’ her voice trailed off until only the sound of bath water and their breathing could be heard. Shyly Y/N glanced at Bucky’s profile, his skin covered in a light layer of moisture from the heat of the water, hair limp and stuck to his jaw and neck, he had her pulled against his front, sitting between his legs whilst his flesh arm was wrapped around her middle. How they had ended up sharing a bath wasn’t quite clear but here they were…and it was nice. 'I haven’t had a bath since I was a little girl…I don’t even like them usually. I’ve never even tried a bathbomb…’

'Babydoll,’ Bucky pressed a kiss to her temple, 'Why are you so nervous? You’re babbling, it’s cute and all but what’s up?’ He squeezed Y/N playfully, the action making her breasts push up a little as his arm nestled snuggly beneath them, her skin reddened further though it had nothing to do with the heat of the water. It told Bucky all that she couldn’t and he smiled against her skin, 'You still shy?’ she fidgeted slightly and his grin widened, 'Two years, Y/N, we’ve been dating for half that time and I think we have three pages of Kama Sutra left to try out. Yet you still get shy around me – it’s adorable.’

They’d met two years ago at a random vending machine in the hospital. Bucky had been shaking down the poor machine for eating his money and Y/N had been giving a verbal warning to a coffee machine, causing Bucky to laugh out loud when she threatened to take it apart with a plastic spoon. Turned out she was a nurse on Steve’s ward, looking after the injured super soldier after a difficult fight, and of course Bucky insisted on visiting his friend everyday. He spent more time at the nurses station than at Steve’s side.

They’d flirted, enjoying each other’s company until the day Steve was released and then, in a moment of pure madness, Bucky asked her for a date. Even madder was that she agreed. She’d agreed to date the charming man who had once been some sort of assassin. She hadn’t known the details but she knew enough to know he had a dark past, that he was a little broken and she knew that him asking her was highly unusual.

Y/N was shy, one of the reasons why Steve thought Bucky liked her, he liked to make women feel special and he’d always loved the shy ones. The Captain had been worried at first, watching Bucky like an anxious mother until he realised that Y/N helped the ex soldier feel like himself again – Bucky needed to feel needed.

He spent most of his nights at Y/N’s apartment, being normal. No missions, no fighting or discussions on tactical assaults. She wasn’t broken like so many of the other Avengers, she liked to cook for him, even taught him a few dishes, she would make him watch terrible movies, take selfies with her and she indulged him. Taking a bath together was his idea, she’d even gone out of her way to get the rediculous bathbomb and have a “Pre Bath”.

'I can get out if you prefer?’ Bucky murmured into her hair, meaning every word, wanting her to feel comfortable.

'Stay, Bucky.’ Y/N said quickly and pressed his hand into the water, the bathbomb fizzing and hissing as yellow spread and mingled through the water, both of them watched in fascination as another layer was revealed – a blue one that turned the water to green.

He pushed the shrinking bomb around like a cat swatting at yarn, until a crackling started under the waters surface made the brunette grab her up into his arms and stand out of the water, eyes wide and searching the room for danger. The swoosh of water falling from their bodies was loud, swallowing up Y/N’s surprised yelp, 'B-Bucky?! Bucky, Buck! It’s popping candy – it’s in the bathbomb!’ Her arms hooked around his neck, their wet bodies making the man’s grip on her a little too slippery to be safe. She kissed his chin, his jaw, his cheek and finally the corner of his mouth, ’…You’re adorable too.’

Bucky looked at her in bewilderment, then slowly, with each press of her lips, he began to smile and carefully lowered them back into the water, 'Couldn’t you have got normal bath stuff?’

'Next time I’ll let you choose,’ Y/N was glad she’d kept the bath. Bucky was glad for a next time.


When I can’t write poetry
I feel as if a thousand broken limbs
would be less painful
Less heavy,
Than the weight of all the words
inside me
Trapped, or just unwilling to
cooperate with the pen in my hand?
I don’t know, I only know
I’ve been staring at this piece of
paper for two hours and-
Accomplished nothing.

When I can’t write poetry
My mind sinks further into nothingness
My eyes crave to see words spilled onto paper, carelessly but
And yet,
Just blankness and an overwhelming sense of failure
Fills me up, all the way to the top
I know I shouldn’t be worrying
But I’ve been staring at this piece of paper now for two hours and 46 minutes and-
Still nothing.

When I can’t write poetry
I worry that,
Poetry no longer flows through my veins
I panic because, the thought of losing connection to words
Is unbearable
I’ve lost connection to so many things
Broken ambitions, now left forgotten or
stolen from me
Because depression doesn’t have many friends
But poetry is allowed, to stay
In the friendship group
Myself, depression and poetry
I need us to stay close
For a little while longer
But it’s been three hours of staring at this fucking blank page and-
I am worthless
I am wordless
Maybe it’s time to give up.

Merry Christmas

AN- For Anon…I hope you like it:)

(I wasn’t sure if you wanted a younger reader or not so i just didnt specify)

“I just wanted to spend the day you guys…” you said, your voice trailing off and becoming softer as you watched them all speed away on their cars and motorcycles. You sighed deeply, your chest becoming heavy as you lifted the barely touched tray and walked out the now empty cave.

In your depressed state, you failed to notice Alfred’s sad look, his eyes filled with pity for you.

It shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did that your family had choose to go out to patrol rather than spend Thanksgiving together, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Sure they had sworn their lives to protecting the people of Gotham when they each dawned the vigilante title, but you didn’t see any reason for them to go out tonight. Crime was always low during Thanksgiving since everyone was at home with their families and not getting mugged on the streets.

No matter, you thought, theyre already gone.

“Mistress Y/N,” Alfred called as he walked out of the cave entrance. You sat the tray down on the dining table and looked up. “I believe you and I still have Thanksgiving plans. It is to my knowledge that you have prepared a special desert?” he asked you. You pushed away your emotions and smiled, nodding before telling him to sit down as you brought out the desert you had made.

You may not have had your father, brothers, and sisters around for this holiday, but you did have Alfred, and he was as much of a family member as the others. You were thankful for that.


“Have a holly, jolly Christmas, it’s the best time of the year. I don’t know if there’ll be snow, but have a cup of cheer,” you sang sadly as you pressed a picture of a lonely Christmas tree you had taken earlier today to your scrapbook. You looked at your work, eyeing similar looking pictures on the previous pages. With a sigh, you closed the book, uncrossing your legs as you stood up from your bed.

It was only mid-morning, but you knew from the absence of your family, that they were still away on the mission they had left for two days ago. That meant spending another holiday alone with Alfred. Though you were grateful for Alfred, you still wished you could spend at least one holiday with your brothers, sisters, and father.

You set down your scrapbook on the bed, not giving it a second look as you walked out your room to the kitchen where Alfred was sure to be.

“Hey Alfred,” you greeted when you spotted him.

“Mistress Y/N,” he said, “what pleasant timing. Im afraid I must make a quick visit to the market. It seems master Dick was not aware that the pumpkin pie was for desert and not a travel snack.”

You frowned slightly, “I just saw the pumpkin pie in the fridge yesterday.”

“I’m presuming you did not know that a pie is given every year to Wayne Enterprises for the staff Christmas party?” Alfred said.

“Oh, right,” you said. “So you need to go to the store? Can I go? It’s not like there’s much to do here with everyone gone.”

“As if I were going to leave you alone on Christmas day,” Alfred spoke, “Come on then.”

You followed him to the car, sitting in the backseat as he climbed in the front. There wasn’t much conversation the first few minutes of the ride, but that ended when you asked him, “they’re not gonna make it, are they?”

He looked at you through the review mirror, “have hope, mistress Y/N, Christmas miracles have yet to disappoint.” You smiled stiffly, sitting back with the thought of Christmas miracles on your mind.

The trip didn’t take long. You and Alfred had gotten down, bought another pumpkin pie, and were back on your way home within half an hour. It would have gone faster if not for the snow blocked roads and the slow traffic.

“Are you a Christmas fan Alfred?”

“Indeed I am, mistress Y/N.”

“Me too. My favorite part is the music,” you paused, “and the lights.”

Alfred didn’t respond as he pulled back into the driveway of the manor. You stepped out of the car the minute the engine died, and Alfred stood by your door as always. You carried the pie in your arms, following Alfred up the stairs of the manor and waiting patiently for him to open the door.

To be honest, you secretly hoped you would be greeted by the sight of your family. Hoped they would spring out of the shadows and shout ‘surprise!’ but nothing happened. The manor was the same as when you left: lonely and slightly cold, free of your family’s presence.

Your heart sank but you didn’t let it show on your face, instead following Alfred to the kitchen and setting down the pie on the counter. “I’m going to head up to my room,” you told him.

“Of course,” Alfred responded, somehow sensing the sadness you hid. You offered him a smile before turning and walking to your room. You tried hard not to cry but with every step you took, the strength it took to hold back you tears diminished. By the time you reached you room, you had tears streaming down your face.

You sniffled and opened your door, the sight of another empty room being too much for you. You rushed to the connected bathroom, shutting the door behind you and leaning against it. You caught your reflection in the mirror and you hated how upset you look. Furiously wiping the tears away, you took a deep breath, making yourself look casual before you opened the door and walked out.

“Merry Christmas Y/N!”

You backed against the closed bathroom door startled. It took you a few seconds to register Bruce, Jason, Cass, Dick, Tim, Steph, Damian, and Alfred standing in your room, each with a smile of their own on their face.

You covered you mouth with your hands, your body overcome with such a strong feeling of elation.

“You guys are back!” you exclaimed, to overwhelmed to move.

“Well,” Jason said, “are ya just gonna stand there, or are you welcome us home?”

“Come on kiddo,” Bruce said, gesturing you over to him. You rushed over to him, hugging him tightly. “I thought you guys were going to be gone,” you said into his chest.

“We turned in early,” Tim said. Steph agreed, saying something that you couldn’t hear because Dick joined yours and Bruce’s hug. There was a moment of silence before you felt another body surround you.

A few seconds passed before you pulled away, signaling the others to scoot back. Damian, Tim, Jason, and Alfred all stood to the side watching the five of you hug.

“You didn’t have too much fun while we were gone, did you?” Dick said and you laughed.

“More like not enough.”

“Well we can make it up to you,” Bruce began.

“We brought presents,” said Tim.

“Though I’m sure you’re gonna love mine the best,” Steph teased. You smiled, “Im just glad you guys are back.”

They smiled. “Come on,” you said, “I may not fight crime like you guys, but I do do justice in the kitchen.”



Pages 1-2 | 3-4 | 5-6 | 7-8 | 9-10 | 11-12 | 13-14 | 15-16 | 17-18 | 19-20 | 21-22 (end)

I don’t know why but I really liked the line I came up with Robin’s reply to GrimaRobin: “A fool I will be, but at least I’m a fool with a heart.” ;u; *cries*

Also, there’s only two more pages until it ends. ; D I’ll be posting those pages a week or two later~ Until then I’m afraid these two pages will have to keep you guys satisfy~

As usual, pre-orders are still open but I only have a few copies left!

Click here for more information to pre-order!


We’re both hardly on here anymore, but that won’t stop me from greeting the wonderful @bohemianrider​ and gifting her with a Happy Birthday Everlark drabble. ILY, BR, my dear, dear friend. xoxo

i. aperture

“Excuse me…do you understand what we just went over?”

Peeta slips his notebook into his backpack and turns around, wondering if the question was directed at him. He comes face to face with a girl he’s definitely noticed before – silver eyes, long, always-braided brown hair, never smiles…oh right…that’s probably why he’s never spoken to her. “I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”

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For @yeahsterek cause she said she needed some picking-up, but also for me who has been reduced to chauffeur for my 14 year-old sister for the last three days so here’s my attempt to make something out of nothing. Read on AO3

Derek pulls his car into the never-ending, it seems, line of cars at the side entrance of the high school. He checks the time, scowls at the clock, and then roughly turns off the car. He’s early, only by less than ten minutes, but by the time Cora is finished dicking around, he’s bound to be sitting here for a half an hour waiting on her.

A police car pulls up behind him a few minutes later, and Derek automatically tenses the way all people do when a police car comes near them. He has a brief flash of thought, Did I do something?!

But the cop makes no move to bang on his door, so Derek relaxes back in his seat. Through the rear-view mirror, he sees a man slide out of the front seat, notes the flash of a sheriff’s badge on his chest, and he feels himself relax totally.

Derek pops open his door and waves at the sheriff as he gets out of his car.

Sheriff Stilinski squints at him, probably trying to figure out who is waving at him, but then he smiles softly, recognizing Derek.

“Derek!” the man says, holding out his hand for a shake Derek takes it easily.

“Sheriff Stilinski. Good to see you.”

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Beneath the Stars Chapter 2

Chapter I

AO3 Linkage

Summary: The start of Feyre’s senior year brings with it a lot of unexpected stress as she prepares for the reality of college applications and finds out a startling revelation from her dad.

Chapter 2

The last bell of the school day chirped sharply in my ear. It was a little unsettling to have to skip my first session of AP Studio Art for a mandated senior assembly, but I kept reminding myself I’d get it back on Friday and that wasn’t so long to wait.

With a graduating senior class just over a grand, the school administration couldn’t fit us all into one space to discuss our impending college admissions. Hell, I didn’t know how they were even going to fit us all into the football stadium for graduation. Rehearsals alone were a nightmare I wasn’t looking forward to.

Thank goodness June was still several months away.

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worldsentwined  asked:

If I'm allowed to make a second request: Reynir in B1? (I love the two you've done so far, they're amazing!)

Of course second requests are allowed, they are wanted, thank you! I believe Reynir-puppy is happy you remember him. (Page 523 was helpful, he has almost the exact same expression there, too).

012 Emerald

Notes: Here’s to 2299 words of the missus and Harry’s engagement. All of the series can be found in chronological order using the link in the sidebar. Enjoy x

“Have you got everything?” You asked Harry as you threw your bags in to the back of his car.

“I think so. Lemme check upstairs once more,” he called as you took your place in the front seat, hanging one foot out of the door while texting Louis a happy birthday.

It was 7am on Christmas Eve and after spending your Christmas together at your parents’ house last year, it was time for you to spend this Christmas with Harry’s family up in Cheshire. As it was Louis’ birthday, he was hosting a late lunch to which you’d all been invited before you’d head with Harry and Gemma to their dad’s house for dinner and return to Anne and Robin’s for drinks and bed.

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Selina didn’t care for parties. Too many people. She cared even less for Gotham. She’d have just as gladly never come back.

Yet here she was, at a party in Gotham.

Bruce Wayne kept nothing she wanted, nothing that wasn’t his. And the cats liked him. They were good judges of character. Some part of her was glad.

She’d left the ballroom when she’d decided it wouldn’t get better. She may have been a little overwhelmed. Too many people, too tempting to claw some of their faces off. Unpleasant smiles, looking at her like a potential pet. She was as wealthy as they were, but one wouldn’t know it from the way they looked at her.

Wayne Manor had cats like some places had mice. They lived in the woods along the mountain, some descended from generations of ferals and others abandoned by idiots. Out in the garden and under the moonlight, they wound themselves around her legs and stretched out in the grass.

That one is coming, they said, but they were neither threatened nor excited. She turned her head. Bruce Wayne, remaining at a distance in the dark. He was the first to break the silence.

“That’s a lot of cats.”

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