#kraft paper notebook

[boxyfont]

The Rise of Aesthetic Stationery: Why Designer Notepads Are Trending

Beautifully crafted notepads have a psychological effect on motivation and organization. Premium notebooks in different designs have different psychological effects, which can be chosen as per the taste and preference of the users. Take for instance, minimalist designs promote clarity and focus, whereas colorful and artistic layouts inspire creativity.

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[happydappybits]

Our First Year Together Journals are such a cute idea for a paper anniversary gift (1 year), I recently added a larger A5 size handprinted version with stitched binding with lots of fun choices for heart color to my shop. Yay! Also, these include a full size pencil with gold foil text "Write it Down" stamped on them. So cute!

Features my own lettering handprinted in my studio onto recycled materials using water based inks. Available with personalized initials in 2 font choice options.

These A5 journal & pencil sets are made to order from my studio in NY and I can't tell you how much I love creating them! They are totally unique with all the customization options, you can find all the deets in my shop. Happy Thursday!

xo Janie

[tnestationery71]

Kraft Paper Replacement Traveler’s Notebook

[ohmightydevviepuu]

fanbinding: the reason birds can fly

the story: the reason birds can fly by philthestone

genuinely i sometimes wonder if i am the only person who has read this little gem of a fic. canon-divergent post-s5 finale and an absolute delight of absurdity and ... reality from Henry Mills' POV as he heads to college after everything he has survived.

the binding: sewn boards paperback legal quarto. designed to look like an american school kid's composition notebook. took me ages to line up the notebook lines and then they didn't print that way so i had to trim it pretty much by hand using a guillotine. speckle design from stock imagery printed on sparkle HTV. modified spine with bookcloth, no backing, to give it that rounded feeling. in retrospect, i might have made a few different choices; if i ever print it again i might try black kraft paper with white sparkle HTV so the feeling of negative space is different. but this bind has been in progress over a year and i'm happy just to be holding it in my hand.

yes, the first page is on the wrong page. yes, i (mostly) did that on purpose. lol.

[charlescoded]

pairing: lestappen word count: 3.3k rated explicit. dead dove. sauber!charles. stalking. blackmail. non-con. masturbation. chussy.

There’s a tremor in Charles’ fingers as he unties the orange bow, letting it slip from the table to the floor. His heart is rabbiting in his chest, beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck, anxiety pooling deep in the pit of his stomach.

Charles hesitates. He’s not allowed to.

“Open it,” the voice in his earbuds orders firmly.

He takes a shaky breath and slowly glides a sharp knife along the seam of the black package. It falls open revealing a protective layer of kraft paper that Charles removes. Then he sees it, the contents, the gift.

The dildo.

asked to tag: @bitingdrivers, @forthegap & @chandelier-s-notebook <3 <3

[thefollow-spot]

Denim Wrapped Journal

182 blank pages (7 signatures of 13 sheets)

Suuuper pleased with how this turned out. As a fanbinder, I usually do fics (and TBH it was kinda sad not to typeset anything for this notebook), but after doing a quick-and-dirty longstitch bind earlier in the week, I couldn't get this idea out of my head, and finished it in one day!

Longstitch french-links on the spine my beloved <3

Scrap-denim donated by my stepsister (who cuts the legs off her jeans to make shorts), and kraft paper saved from the recycling.

The inside is regular printer paper, so next time I do I project like this I'm hoping to use something fancier~

[peterfields]

Sunday essentials, today with...

.

-Vintage Material Drawstring Bag, Shoe Last Door Stopper and Giant Brass Safety Pin by #puebco

-Leather Gym Bag in Brown by #johnwoodbridge

-Le Short „Cargo Denim Selvedge“ and Le Tricot Basic natural by #fleursdebagne

-Brick Shape Box in Wood - Original by #peterfields

-Small Budget and Loadstar Keyhook by #thesuperiorlabor

-TRC Template Bookmark Number and Spiral Ring Notebook Blank DW Kraft Paper B6 by #travelerscompany

[ninoochat]

@metropoliswhite quick and dirty bookbinding lol. had some paper I cut and punched for my filofax but then ended up not using it all so I made a neapolitan notebook with kraft/white/black pages 🥰

[owlishfuncrafts]

I'm kind of stupid happy about how these came out!

I wanted to do a simple print onto the display cards I'm going to start putting my necklaces on. Just to, you know, make them look nicer than plain kraft paper. Decided to colour march the little green paper bags I have for sales, and close match the brown of the kraft card, and I could not be more pleased with the results.

They're not perfect prints but they don't have to be. Also printed onto some notebooks and greeting cards, plus a trial print onto wood (promising results with some more experimentation).

I've set up a self inking stamp with the Etsy store account name on it I'll stamp onto the backs, and have little adhesive pockets to tuck the necklace chains into. Pretty excited to roll the spinner out next market with them on it!

Next market will be the Calmar Market on Main, on Friday 4pm-8pm. If your in the area come by and let me know you came from Tumblr for a little gift!

[princevinenzo]

A little to do list from last Friday. And I covered my books with some black Kraft paper, as we can see on the little notebook.

Of which, is no longer a field trips notebook (because I bought a hobonichi cousin for next year), this notebook is now a kind of work book for making my first zine. I’ll probably post some pictures at some point.

My favourite thing about all the paper covers (under clear covers) is that they each have their own unique point in which of my stickers i use and where I put them.

The last picture is some spooky black velvet cupcakes that I made last week. This week I made some very tasty flapjack.

[passengerpigeons]

i love using a fountain pen partially because it's one pen and a bottle of ink will literally last me years of near constant long form writing and note-taking (like fuck I think my daily driver bottle has lasted 2 or 3 years?) but also. it makes your pen into a doohicky you fiddle with and tinker at when something is wrong instead of just throwing it away because a spring jammed. i have a couple pages where i was actively trying to sort out an ink flow issue mid-excerpt and there's tiny blotches and a note saying "fixed it" at the last blotch, along with very charismatic stains between the outside covers of two cheap kraft paper-covered notebooks and a fingerprint ink wipe from said tinkering

[boxyfont]

The Best Notebooks for Artists, Writers, and Designers

Unique notebooks and journals often feature standout designs, unconventional materials, or customizable layouts tailored to specific needs. Examples include leather-bound journals, travel journals with pockets, or sketchbooks with perforated pages. Unique formats like concertina or accordion-fold journals allow for panoramic sketches or storyboards.

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[pretendcottagelady]

Weekly Journal Spread

A simpler journal set up than I did the past week because again, I just needed to be quicker about this. So using a paler colour to indicate where the lines to write are makes it easier than drawing borders. There’s also less decoration, but that’s because I’m planning to decorate it with teddy journal stickers as I journal.

Though I did put a journal and snack tray in the corner because my page tore a bit when I was trying to lift up some of the washi tape. I’ve mentioned this before, but kraft paper used in journals, or at least this journal is not my favourite. I’ve worked with kraft paper before (primarily for cards) and never had this issue before, but working in this journal has been kind of difficult because I have to do my cutting before I lay down the tape and once I put it down, I have to commit because it will damage the page lifting it up.

I don’t know if this is an issue with the Notebook Therapy journals or if it's just a general journal thing, but it’s kind of irritating.

[faunandfl0ra]

TIMING: Today LOCATION: Conor’s flower shop PARTIES: Conor @faunandfl0ra & Owen @apaininyourneck SUMMARY: Conor’s most annoying customer has a new name. /nofaenonsense CONTENT WARNINGS: none

As tempting as it was to head straight home and blow off some steam after a whole afternoon spent dealing with nerds dressed in medieval gear, Owen was almost out of smokes. He had been one dumb question away from stabbing one of the young men just to get them out of the damn store but as Chet generally was, mutilating his loyal yet horribly depressing regulars would probably lose Owen the job. As he walked the streets of Downtown, a tingle of a shop bell dragged his attention to a store front he hadn’t cared to notice before. Or maybe it was new. He didn’t exactly keep up with the turn over on local florists but after a recent conversation online, the slayer found himself crossing the street to check out the store. 

A glance through the window found a single customer inside and, lo and behold, a single employee wearing an apron with plenty of pockets. Wicked’s Rest wasn’t too small, the odds of there being two male apron wearing florists weren’t none, but Owen intended to find out. If only because he had nothing better to do and if he couldn’t mess with customers when he was the one working, at least he could be an annoying customer to someone else. 

Strolling into the store, he busied himself with looking over the flowers, wondering what the hell compelled people to spend money on these. The closest he’d come to buying flowers was his father buying a bouquet on mother’s day and writing Owen’s name on the gift tag. 

_

“Good evening” he raised his nose from the counter, a piece of twine wrapped between his fingers as he tied a neatly folded sheet of kraft paper around the wildflower bouquet in front of him. Returning his attention toward his current customer, Conor picked up a sticker that read get well soon from beneath the counter, and a matching card for them to write on. “You can use one of my pens,” he pointed toward a sunflower patterned cup and picked up his notebook from the side of the counter and his calculator. 

“Plus 3, plus 2, plus 3.25, …” Mumbling under his breath, he added up the flowers he picked out for her. She explained to him earlier that this was for her brother who had broken his leg hiking in the woods. Or maybe she said he got attacked by a wolf. He hadn’t been paying too much attention. Why did people do that? He didn’t care for their life story. “Alright, 40 dollars and 25 cents. Barely above your budget,” he could have stayed under, but the bouquet would have lacked a little something. She was beaming, he offered a light smile in return. There weren’t many things that made him feel that way, but he loved recognition for certain. 

She left a moment later. Wiping down his workspace, the florist tilted his head up to look for the other person in the room. “Can I help you?” 

—

The only other customer left, leaving Owen alone in the store with the florist, whose name was sadly still a mystery. A few moments passed until the slayer was finally addressed. Letting go of the flower stem he’d been fiddling with, he turned to the man, finally sizing him up properly and for a moment longer than was strictly necessary. Faint splotches of dirt coated his hands and apron, tattoos visible on his arm and snaking up under his shirt sleeves, a very generic expression on his face. Customer service mode most likely turned to the max, provided that this was the easily annoyed florist with the colorful vocabulary from online. “Sure hope so,” Owen replied, grinning wide. 

“Looking for something for a friend. Something that says…” Owen strolled towards another set up of flowers, fingers running over a few of the petals as he put on an expression of deep thought. “Just admit you like me and please remove that giant stick from your ass.” Whether or not this was the correct person or not, Owen didn’t much care. Even if this turned out to just be some random florist with a penchant for aprons with plentiful pockets, he wasn’t unattractive so some teasing wouldn’t hurt. 

—

And there it was again. Why did people need a reason to buy flowers? “Just admit you like me and remove the giant stick from your ass,” he probably meant a proverbial one. For once, Conor had to stop and wonder what the message was behind such a prompt. You didn't build the same bouquet for someone you hated and someone you liked. You generally didn't buy the former bouquets but he could get behind sending someone a bouquet that read fuck you. Not literally of course. That would be tacky.

"Alright. Well, we would want some geranium for that," he pursed his lips to the side. Yellow was the color of betrayal, so that could be a good angle. It was his favorite color, so Conor would have been personally delighted with such a bouquet. "Foxgloves. Some orange lillies," Conor scratched on the tip of his nose with one of his knuckles. His eyes finally fell toward the other's hands. Could he fucking stop touching everything. "Let's keep our hands off the flowers, shall we?" He didn't smile this time, and instead took a few steps to stand on the same side of the counter as his client. "What's your budget for your… friend?" 

—-

There was only a short pause at the request before the man seemed to simply take the suggestion in stride, starting to pick out flowers. Owen watched the look of concentration deepen on the other man’s face as he started picking up various things, naming them as he went and honestly, he could have been making up the names for all Owen knew. If he was the type to buy flowers, at least whatever the man was mixing together looked a hell of a lot nicer than the generic bouquets that filled every store in February. His intrigue in the man’s thought process was cut short by what was essentially scolding and Owen’s lips jerked into a crooked smile, hands raising in a dramatic display of innocence. “My bad,” he replied without a hint of regret.

“Ah, spare no expense. And let’s go with ‘soon to be friend’,” Owen replied, even though he had a feeling the florist couldn’t give two shits, “since he’s still on the fence but I’m sure he’ll come around.” With the opportunity provided since the man now stood next to Owen, he bumped his shoulder into the other’s with an obnoxious smile. Owen strolled away, fingers dragging along the edges of pots and counters, pointedly touching everything except the flowers. “You know, I think he’s a bit sour because I made fun of his apron. Even though it has, like, a bunch of pockets for holding stuff.” His back was facing the man as he spoke, wondering if it would ever sink in. 

—-

“Spare no expense,” Conor mumbled the words to himself. It was one bouquet. Even if he made it as large as possible, Conor could already tell that it wouldn’t go over a hundred dollars. Anything over that price tag would look ridiculous, and good luck finding a vase that complimented such a dense mass of flowers. Absolutely not. The clarification regarding the man’s oh-so-complicated relationship with his stuck up non friend flew right over his head. He did not care. 

He glanced up at the other, then down at his shoulder. Whatever meaning there was behind the other’s gesture, Conor couldn’t have been more confused about it. His eyebrows arched up in wonder, but the other was walking around the shop, this time making it a point of putting his fingers everywhere but on his flowers. His hand hovered over candytufts for a moment, while he considered the other’s words. That was stupid. “You shouldn’t have done that. Aprons should have more pockets than they usually do,” he commented, then motioned toward his own. “Mine was custom made. I keep losing my pair of scissors, my favorite sheers…” He let his voice die down. “It’s a life savior, really.”

—-

So apparently this man was much more easily riled up online than in person. At least while on the job. Or maybe he was just dumb as bricks, not a stretch considering the status of his computer knowledge. There he went off again, explaining to Owen just how amazing aprons were. To a man that would rather have quit the decently cushy job at The Wormhole than be forced to wear an apron if the choice had been presented. “Wow, custom made, huh?” Owen turned back to the florist and the ever growing bouquet. Wondering if he should just let things lie now and walk out - leave the man to put back the flowers. When had he ever let things lie, though?

“Yeah… poor fucker’s Irish, too. Probably shouldn’t be picking on him for the apron kink since he doesn’t have much else going for him. Bastard can’t even use Google translate,” Owen sighed, finally seizing his incessant touching of most things in the store in order to cross his arms over his chest. Staring pointedly at the florist, he wondered if the guy would continue to stand up for himself in the third person or finally get the hint. Judging from how this conversation had been going, the slayer’s bets were currently on the first option. 

__

“Looks good to you?” Conor asked, stopping in his tracks to present a bouquet that was already quite generously sized. “I could add more to it, but I think it’ll look better with a bit of foliage thrown into the mix,” and while he sold flowers for a living, he preferred harmony over money, happy customers tended to come back, not those that felt like they were scammed. 

He was glad to see the other take such interest into his aprons. Most people wouldn’t have felt this way. With a rare smile, he nodded along. “Maybe you could apologize to him. I think that once you’ve tried these, you can’t go back.” Putting things in your pockets was fun, but Conor was blessed with legs that could only wear loose trousers or kilts. He most often opted for the latter, though he had an ever growing collection of large legged pants, some dating back to the 60s.

“You think you’re fucking funny, don’t you?” His gaze fell to the bouquet in his hand. Well he could just wrap it and wait for someone to buy it tomorrow, considering it was closing time soon. With a sigh, he grabbed a piece of twine in his apron, wrapping it where his fist met the stems. “You’re a fucking prick. A big, sizable, fucking dickhead,” he tied a knot, then with a glare, went to pick up a vase from underneath the counter. “Well you’ve had your laugh. Haha, téigh ag gnéas le logáil isteach... Cad... Fucking,” he groaned. “Whatever the fuck happened to going for drinks? Did ya chicken out?”

—

There it was. The flash of recognition was delightful, especially combined with the genuine annoyance. “I have my moments,” Owen mused, following the gaze to the nice bunch of flowers being wrapped up. Accompanied by some very impressive cursing that only made the slayer’s smile wider. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve already established that I annoy you, nothing new there,” he waved him off. Sauntering up towards the counter, he side eyed the vase and pulled it towards himself before the florist had a chance to put the flowers away. 

“Nah, no chickening out, just wanted to see this apron for myself before I drink you under the table.” Owen let go of the vase for a moment to dig into his pockets, pulling out his wallet. “Come on, unclench your butt and tell me what I owe you.”

__

“Fuck off, you’re fucking un… not… You’re not funny,” he finally said, matter of factly, each of his words tainted with a special kind of disappointment. He didn't like a waste of time, and there was this guy, doing just that. Conor could have been working on closing the store now, but instead he had to be the butt of this guy's joke. Fan-fuckin-tastic. 

He was about to tell him to get the fuck out of his air when the annoyance pulled the bouquet back to himself. He wasn't gonna buy it, was he? 

Conor crossed his arms over his chest, expecting some sort of turn of situation that would make him once again the subject of a private one man show. Instead, he offered to pay, and the faun had no other choice than to tell the truth. He wouldn't be getting another stomach ache for this asshole. "And you couldn't just ask me ? You had to be fucking dramatic about it?" He tried to remember the subject of the bouquet. Something about sticks up one's arse and admitting to liking him. Right. "You're not as charming as you think you are," he flatly stated, then turning his back on him to tidy up his workstation, he said. "Sixty-two dollars and seventy five cents," he'd leave the other to do the math on a proper tip.

—

There were so many emotions flashing across the other man’s face that it was almost hard to keep track. Pure, unfiltered annoyance had been very obvious when the guy had thought Owen wasn’t going to finalize the purchase. It would have been funny to have the bouquet made for nothing but that made the odds of the aforementioned drinks seem very slim so the slayer held back. If he annoyed the guy too much now, there was no way to get to know him better. See if he was worth keeping around to mildly annoy every once in a while. And thankfully, the anger seemed to fade slightly when Owen asked to pay. 

“Bringing the drama is the curse I’m forced to live with,” he sighed, starting to count out bills and watching the other’s very tense back. “And I’m actually more charming than I give myself credit for,” Owen added, placing seventy dollars on the counter and reaching for a blank note and a pen while the florist’s back was turned. He quickly scribbled down a message onto the note and stuck it into the flowers, moving wordlessly for the door and only turning once one foot was already on the pavement outside. “Don’t wait too long to call. I know where you work.” And with that, he left, resuming his previous mission of buying cigarettes with a grin on his face. 

—

The other’s words were greeted with an eye roll. Given the context, it was perhaps a good thing only Conor’s wall of shears could see the look upon his face. Wiping the last pair of shears clean with a chlorophyll stained rag, he placed it back with the others and turned to look at Owen, who was walking out of the store without Conor’s bouquet. While he attempted to recall the last time he was ever given a present, the faun rubbed at the back of his neck in embarrassment. Maybe he should have been a bit nicer with Owen. A voice at the back of his head was opposed to that thought : he didn’t like aprons, he was dramatic and he wanted to see Conor piss drunk all to prove what? That he was superior at drinking? Conor didn’t like that, because he didn’t like losing, he very much liked his apron, and he didn’t like drama. When did anyone ever have a good time being dramatic? 

“You’re really not,” he retorted, turning around at last to watch him leave the store. At long last. The faun sighed. “Alright. Bye,” he couldn’t have sounded colder had he tried, yet, as he picked up the note from the bouquet, a warmth came to tint his cheeks Armeria maritima ‘Bloodstone’ pink. 

[mythrilthread]

A Rock Lee notebook for @lootthecoyote <3

My first coptic style binding, so of course I had to include French link stitching. It turned out to be pretty fun to do, but I completely understand why one might need curved needles now.

84 leafs of Kraft paper with printed dot grid;

Cover has a manga scan drawn on the cover with a marker. Had a lot of fun matching my materials to the colors of Rock Lee’s outfit!