#don't be fooled by the paper textures

[mokutone]

playing around u know how it is

#my art #naruto #yamato #tenzō #yamato tenzo #kankuro of the sand #don't be fooled by the paper textures #everything except the original lineart is digital #image desc in alt text

[pilferingapples]

I've seen a few other people posting about the new Seven Seas English translation of the Arai manga, and I wanted to do a little comparison with the Japanese and French volumes!:D View of the spines all stacked! Going down: Japanese, French, English Omnibus!

Stack from above! You can get a better idea of how much wider and taller the English Vol. 1 is here:

And that pays off in bigger interior art! Even if I could read both the versions I have fluently (I....cannot) it would be worth picking up the new edition for this! Look at how that bottom panel of Valjean is now big enough to get more sense of texture! Don't let my terrible Android camera fool you, the print quality is excellent:

the B&W work looks great too!

if you can make out the text in the bottom panels, you can see the English is also doing something different in the translations! The French in the last panel says (roughly translating!) something like " The people were supporting the weight of the taxes" ; the English says "The Third Estate, bourgeoisie and commoners, suffered under heavy taxes and poverty." (I can't possibly attempt to translate the Japanese , please go look at @bobcatmoran's excellent posts for that!)

Also while there's no visible color difference between the interior pages of the editions in person, there IS a distinctly different texture--the English volume has paper that feels a lot more substantial and has a different tooth than the typical manga paperback paper of the French or Japanese editions.

Overall a very, very nice edition of one of the best adaptations of Les Miserables! Extremely recommended!

#Les Miserables #Les Mis #Les Mis Arai

[corundumb]

Credit goes to @head-in-the-icloud for the au and characters. Nova is my own character. I hope you guys like it 😁

✨🌟💎🔮🃏🃏

The Royal Jesters Fanfic- Seamstress Nova

The castle is magical, as are the residents. Well, not ALL of them at least. But in Novas mind they all are, each one is nothing she’s seen before. Even the ones that seem like clones visually have such personalities. In place of flesh there’s metal and what she assumes is magic, visually unique it was crazy.

But now it’s her new normal. Having spent a few years of her life here, she’s come to know them relatively well. The Princes love to expend their energy and stress by playing as Fools, playing pranks on each other and those around them. As much as they can be annoying it’s endearing. She thought something was up when Prince Sun spent more time in her workshop, suddenly finding some fabrics and accessories very interesting. Spending a day or so flipping through sample books she’s collected throughout her professional travels. Asking when she'll head out again.

Nova kept them categorized by region, shop, and then by colors, textures, and patterns. These books are more like mini suitcases with canvas as pages in place of paper, samples of previous fabrics she’s purchased in the past. Nova took pride in her collection, even if just to look at they’re wonderful reminders of previous designs.

Her bells collection, however, she felt it almost necessary to ban him from. The constant jingling to test which ones sounded perfect got on her nerves a little, but save for that one exception it was entertaining to watch him select the fabrics and ask her so many questions. When she asked him of his sudden interest in fabric, he was being uncharacteristically vague and dismissive. She guessed it was two things, something gold and shades of reddish orange, something azure and indigo. Veeery sneaky, Prince Sun.

She recognized the fabrics immediately as they donned their new apparel. They were almost unrecognizable with the masks, the Princes looked great as Jesters! Their antics made her laugh more, even when she became a target for a little while. The number of times one or both of her braids were now ‘mustaches’ for themselves or on her was a fast way to pull her attention from work. Under normal circumstances touching her hair would be off limits but she gave them permission if their hands were clean. Despite it not being her place, she saw them as family. This doesn't mean she enjoys EVERY prank or joke, she could do without the pies in her face.

When she first met Gaiya, she was more intimidated than she was by Eclipse. Purely from height and status, and staring into her soul spooked her for sure with those big eyes. But the initial fear did not stop her from admiring the grace she carried, and instantly knew she would be hardest to design for but thrilled with the challenges. When the Queen had time to review designs and fabrics she wanted she enjoyed the most, many varieties of snacks and teas available each time.

Eclipse…

Nova respected Neptune a great deal, a powerful wizard in his own level. Having to maintain and upkeep the knowledge required takes a lot of time. She's spoken with him only a few times, primarily for basic defense spells and the benefits of enchanting threads and fabrics for certain occasions.

During her travels to retrieve orders of fabrics, jewelry, and shop on her own accord for other necessities for her job she took guarding the goods and the money she traveled with extremely seriously. To the point where in between her travels, and main job as a tailor, she kept up her abilities by training with Eclipse when possible, or basic defense spells with Neptune. She has very little in magical capability and is only so strong physically. But what most don't know about her is why she keeps her gloves on 90% of the time.

From her fingertips thin but very strong wires of light move from her control. It's very dangerous mid to close range, and she has used it for mobility. Those who don't notice the light reflecting parts of the wires may believe she's floating or flying. But most fights she partakes in end up with body parts strewn about, the ground and herself covered in blood. It's very messy. Considering the wires can cut chunks out of wagons and armored personnel with relative ease, she's comfortable traveling on her own. But this does not mean she enjoys any bloodshed, she merely wishes to not be a burden in a kingdom of animatronics as a human.

The wires do have their benefits outside of battle, she's able to move heavy rolls of fabrics with ease on her own. But she must remain mindful of their sharpness. She'll regularly use them on herself to work on tailoring for the Queen directly, or to Eclipse when she's had enough making him more cloaks than he can burn through and gives him a piece of her mind face to face. His enjoyment of this just angers her more.

#ophelia talks #royal jesters au #seamstress nova #Eclipse #sun #moon #queen gaiya #neptune #tw: light gore mentioned #tw: blood mention #fanfic of a fanfic

[inkforhumanhands]

What do you use to make your comic edits? I really like them!! And is there like a process you follow? Like do you storyboard the rough idea first? Sorry if you've answered this somewhere before

Ohhhh man this is going to have to go under a cut due to pictures. Luckily whenever I make an edit I tend to DM my friend process pics while screaming about how horrible they look and how I can't figure out how to fix them. 💀 So some of the record exists!

I use a mix of three different programs. To be honest even though it's free, Photopea.com is my go-to for most functions, especially since they have a large pool of fonts to choose from which means I don't have to go into the font mines and download 500 different ones just to see what's going to look best. I also use Paint Shop Pro, which is the program I learned how to make edits (icons, back in the day) on when I was like 14. I have a newer version now since I finally had to retire the 15-year-old one on my broken laptop, and I still don't really know my way around it that well. It's not the most user-friendly software, but it is a lot better than Photopea at resizing images to make them larger. I also use Clip Studio Paint whenever I need to draw anything for an edit.

When I need resources, I often use dafont.com for fonts. I have a bunch of texture packs from various places on the internet, but my go-to nowadays for new stuff is pexels.com where you can get stuff with a royalty-free license. I also occasionally use my own photos for textures (took a bunch of wall photos in Italy- my dad thought I'd lost my mind). I don't use brushes all that often but there are other free resource spots.

As for process, I usually start with comic panels that I like visually and cut out the characters, then figure out what I want to do with them. For Kill Krew, I knew I wanted to use a bunch of the tiny Foggies, but I didn't know that I wanted to make it a story per se until I finished the first section of the edit where Foggy's holding a bunch of papers and I decided to make it kind of like he was authoring his own memoir. Then I just followed the events in the comic. For my volume 5 edits I did have more of an idea for the story I wanted to tell from the start and looked for comic panels that would fit it. (By the way: never forgiving the volume 5 editors for allowing so many different artists. It pained me to have to use a couple different artists in one edit.)

Anyway though kind of like when I'm writing fic, I just start with pretty much a blank canvas, plop the characters on, and hope they arrange themselves into something that looks cool. This is a very early draft of one of them next to a slightly more advanced draft:

A lot of the work honestly goes into choosing the background and marrying it to other elements such as the text and the cutouts. I use a lot of rectangles for this, as you can see in this Kill Krew one next to a near-final draft below. This is also the phase where elements get resized, whether for story-telling reasons or design reasons.

I also fool around a lot with layers and coloring. An unexpected layering choice can totally make or break an edit. See the original comic coloring (left) versus my coloring change (right):

Or this original panel (left) versus a combination of a picture of a starry sky and a coloring layer (right):

Font is also hugely important to me. I try to find ones that fit thematically AND also look great on the image. Like bad coloring or a bad background, an ugly font can also kill an edit. Choose wisely lmao.

Another thing to watch out for in an edit that's multiple images is to make sure they all look nice together and like they're part of one set. I find this probably the hardest, since different source images (comic panels in this case) often have different coloring requirements, but you want the colors to mesh well between different images. It's tough! And if you make extremely long edits like I do occasionally it's hard to even see what they look like together. Sometimes when I'm looking at them stacked in Photopea it looks like a tiny, tiny photostrip and I have to figure out what's working and what isn't. It's tough out there!

Anyway I think that's all I got! Hope that gave you some insight lol I'm glad I had these process pics because I usually just kind of go into a fugue state while making them and come out covered in blood!

#asks #ravenmold #daredevil #inkedits #comicedit

[fizzingwizard]

Played the Snufkin: Melody of Moominvalley demo

teehee will the real Snufkin please stand up??

First of all the art and music are so gorgeous. The watercolor effect and paper texture are enchanting. I felt soothed just watching the intro. It's very moomin-y and made me remember how I felt when I first discovered the books. When you walk through puddles, there's the sound of splashing water, and when you cross a log bridge, it sounds like hollow wood. Ideal vibe.

I did try *cough* to jump off the cliffs and stuff... but no, you can't kill yourself in this game, bahahaha. Unsurprising but Idk I've played Sims too long and "how can I kill everyone" has become my modus operandi. Not even Moomins are safe.

You pretty much just use space bar, S, and A, so playing was easy. I encountered some trouble when jumping at times, but Idk if that was jumps being glitchy or just me still getting the hang of it.

Snufkin in this is freakishly strong. Able to carry rocks while jumping across a rushing river and push a giant boulder around. Superstrength!! But it is a lot of fun, really, running and jumping everywhere, climbing things... I got stuck at one point where you have to climb behind a waterfall, because I didn't think you could climb horizontally!

Now this game stars Snufkin, but don't be fooled, it's really a Snufkin roast. You watch Teety-woo (who is leading the tutorial basically) follow Snufkin around getting ignored for ages x'D and he's so complimentary the whole time that it morphs into an insult. The rest of the time, in the name of helping, he does a lot of nothing and you stop feeling bad about ignoring him bahahahaha.

Your "mighty" harmonica x'D has the ability to calm and charm other creatures and make them fall in love with you. I don't care what anyone says, I love this whole music therapy angle. I also like finding inspiration in random bushes. It WAS a bit weird to use the harmonica on this Creep only so he could give me a boost up the cliff lol what was wrong with stacking rocks?

But the harmonica's best use is DEFINITELY hypnotizing birds and then launching them at a target. Who need guns when you have birds?? Seriously this was way too much fun, who knew Looney Tunes humor would be this amusing to me as a full grown adult :P

You get quests, like "rescue all the baby birds." But whenever you feel like it you can fuck off and go fishing for a while. Sorry mama! I didn't notice any game-related effect from it, like catching actual fish. So idk if that's the way it's meant to be, for relaxing, or if I'm just stupid.

I was a little confused when I got like three quests and didn't see how I'd made any progress on any of them. Then all of a sudden the mama bird, who says "woo" when she's sad and "teety" when she's happy, led to the completion of the "Find a name" quest. And I love Teety-woo praising the existential beauty of his own name, and then fucking off to pay some bills. The great Snufkin who?? I've got responsibilities!

Oh no... signs! Oh no... a park! Being asked to look after it is pretty funny! But the ensuing complete and total property destruction is even funnier!

Not even kidding, Snufkin demolishes this park. It was really fun! This game isn't hard, but for someone who doesn't play games, it wasn't too mindlessly simple for me either. I enjoyed dodging the park keepers, launching birds at their heads, and yeeting signs into oblivion.

And we end with the discovery that Moominvalley has dried up and Moomintroll is nowhere to be found! An excellent prologue. I'm definitely looking forward to this game. I like the idea of a game that has both relaxing elements and more energetic ones without being too terribly kiddie (of course it's perfect for kids, I'm just saying, as an adult, I wasn't bored), as well as one that is whimsical and silly without losing emotional depth, with manageable, personal stakes. The demo definitely didn't take me very long to get through and I have no idea how long the full game will be. But long or short, the story seems promising.

#moomin #game

[nocturna-iv]

Meet Felix, Vox's personal assistant, bodyguard, and programmer. He's the triple threat for most of his Overlord’s enemies.

Felix has quite a unique story. Before he met Vox —when he was just Ruby—, he was a hacker, breaking into some of the most secure systems in the world. But when he arrived in Hell, he knew he needed a new purpose. A more entertaining and extreme existence. That's when he decided to hack into VoxTek. Vox was so impressed by Felix's skills that he immediately offered him a contract, and Felix has been by his side ever since.

Now, Felix prefers to be non-verbal and avoid interacting with other demons. When it’s necessary, Felix prefers to communicate by connecting to Vox's frequency. To others, it seems that the two of them are only looking at each other when they are actually having conversations. Vox sometimes responds aloud, which further confuses other demons.

Felix's appearance is also quite striking. His body has a texture like paper-mâché and plaster. And then there's his face — a permanent, smiling expression that looks like a theater mask. Some people even believe that he’s using one! But don't let his cheery demeanor fool you.

One of Felix's biggest challenges is keeping Vox's spending habits in check. Let's just say, the Overlord can get a bit carried away when it comes to his indulgences. But Felix is up to the task, making sure that Vox doesn't waste his money on ridiculous things like a land shark clothing store or a record label solely for Alastor's radio shows at 78 RPM.

If you look closely, you'll notice a heart-shaped mark on Felix's chest — that's the mark that shows that he’s Vox’s sinner. It looks like a heart from video games (with Health Points). When Felix is in fights, you can see how the coloration goes down if he’s losing.

It amuses him to try techniques or weapons that he sees in video games, comics, anime, series, and other things. It’s entertaining! Felix has quite a creative streak, and he loves nothing more than cosplaying. But it's not just about dressing up for Felix — he also loves to engage in theatrical combat.

(You can see examples here, here, and here)

Felix loves pretending to be defeated, falling to the ground in a dramatic heap. That's when Vox steps in, shouting “Get up!” and urging Felix to rise once more as if he were a corpse controlled by the Overlord (Like here). Usually, that terrifies the enemies, who flee the place in terror.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel vox #character sheet #original character #hazbin vox #oc #look at him!!!!!!! #I love that both Vox and Alastor don't perceive Felix as creepy #but the rest of the demons including Angel feel that he is weird #hazbin hotel felix #hazbin hotel ruby

[mushangaa]

Don't mind me I'm just gonna whine a bit. So a couple of days ago, before my flare-up really kicked me in the teeth and made me too exhausted for big things, I was working on the cover for chapter 1 of my comic. (it serves hard by the way)

But eh, halfway through I realized I need to redo the entire thing. Problem is in the initial sketch phase I did overwork the paper a bit to hard, which is not so easy to do since it is a 300g/m³ (140lb) paper, meaning medium weight class meaning this paper will not wrap that easily and bc it is cold pressed it also can take some water and all that jazz - bottom line is, it is a good sturdy paper and I am glad I found the perfect paper that suits my workflow and is not too expensive too. But also, I managed to rough up that sturdy paper with the eraser and pencil in ways that are hard to achieve. So yeah I thought I could work around that - n o p e. The colour blooms and bleeds were it should not, I sometimes let it do that deliberately but for certain areas there is drying phases and stuff for more precise brushstrokes etc. Like... I have a good balance on when to control and when to let my inks do as they please with some mild interference from me. Also water control is a bitch tha sometimes loves me and sometimes will f me over but I also know how to work with that. But when the paper is damaged that all means jack shit. No matter how dry it is, the colour will bleed over into areas that are dry just because of the structures I created with erasure friction and there ain't not much I can do about that. I already overworked it and I also have a good amound of graphite that just fused into the paper that even the eraser could no longer pick up that rose to the surface of my colours like it is paying rent. Long story short I messed up my paper in ways that make it impossible for me to fix and I was more than halfway done with the colours by the point I accepted this does not work for me and i have to redo the entire thing. Next issue is that transferring the lineart from one paper to another is horrible with paper as thick as the one I use and my light sheet is a trouper but just not bright enough for the job lol So yeahhhh I am still very exhausted in general but I just wanna tackle the cover again and it is all a lil frustrating hence why I am writing a huge rant about it to get it outta my system and then I will pick up my pencil again and redo this cover rahhhhh. (and like, I am not even a perfectionist, I used to be one, but I trained myself out of that in my early 20s because it was just not helpful or valuable so I usually work with mistakes or work around them because honestly? I am aware most people would not even notice those things I only know they are there because I was there to witness me making them. But this one looks really like ass so I have to redo it. I can't let someone fab like horsegirl Leo look anything less than his best and having green and red bleed together constantly because the paper texture is messed up is so not working for either of us.)

Lessons to take away from this: - don't overwork the goddamn paper - no matter the level of artist you can and will mess up spectacularly and that is okay - sometimes you gotta stop being stubborn, quit and start again, there is nothing to gain but frustration from keeping working on something that just isn't working - and, more personal, wear the goddamn compression opera gloves during sketching and lining for the love of god it helps with the heavy handedness you absolute fool.

#mushanga speaks #art related rant #whining #the unicorn paradox #growing pains of starting a new comic I guess #it's been a while my guys

[munro-of-europa]

Senses and other Specifics:

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE? DL smells like hairspray because the pink mohawk thingy can't keep itself upright. Nah not really, they smell like fresh laundry, ink on paper and petrichor. They do sometimes wear a fragrance but depending on what the situation may be, it's not very intense and it's quite gentle and at times metallic. The best example of this is Spacewalk by Demeter.

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE? Very warm unless they stick their hands in a freezer, and very dry palms. The backs of their hands however are super soft, much like the rest of their skin!

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY? DL is by all means, a carbohydrate fiend. They have a lot of love for bread and pasta for some reason, the former because it can be soft or crunchy and they love textures- the latter because pasta if done right can go with everything. They actually don't like to eat in front of other people, and they're very reserved about what they do eat on account of their size (they're small in height but they are what is considered plus size). Because people can be and are assholes. However, coming from a colony like Europa where everything was beige coloured, DL likes to include colours in whatever they eat.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE? They trained to be a classical singer and working for [REDACTED], they were initially hired to be a singer in night clubs and bars. If I had to compare a singer to their voice now, as they're in their mid-30s, they'd sound like Alison Moyet- but they don't sing much, unless they're asked to. Nicely.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS? YES BECAUSE DL IS BY AND LARGE A NERVOUS FOOLE. Their most well known one is clearing their throat and talking with their hands. They'll also find whatever item that's in their pocket and fidget with it in their hands, it could be a golf ball- it could be a radioactive space rock- it could be anything! The crunchier sounding, the better.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR? DL WEARS WHATEVER THE FUCK THEY FEEL LIKE. Actually, they wear what could be described as 'assaulted by a wardrobe' 90% of the time they're around and awake. When they're not actively doing things, it's just a big shirt, an even bigger hoodie and casual things. Usually cuddly type material.

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO? They may be shy as fuck, but DL once they get comfortable around someone they can get affectionate! In fact they love it. They adore it, both giving and receiving. Their language of affection is hugs, for anyone. However because of their experiences, they force themselves to be more reserved, because they worry they're a big fuckin' weirdo or they'll creep someone out by being affectionate. So they have to get that side brought out, whether that be in a platonic or romantic context.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN? When alone, they'll sleep like a starfish, on their back because they like space sometimes. HOWEVER, they like to cuddle up to people if it's a romantic partner- and they prefer to be the bigger spoon, the jetpack if you will.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM? Surprisingly, no! They're very quiet in how they move and speak- unless they're excited about something then you'll be able to hear them from a million-mile radius.

tagged:@strongfuck (and now you know a little bit more about them hee hee i am no crying a promise)

tagging:@the-expatriate, @raktanag, and whoever wants to do this, consider yourself tagged!

#about dl #noisy talky thoughts: musing #I AM CRYING

[indianjute]

Title: The Surprising Benefits of Jute You Never Knew About

Jute, the seemingly ordinary fiber used in burlap sacks, hides a treasure trove of unexpected benefits. This eco-friendly champion biodegrades completely, unlike its plastic counterparts that litter landfills.

Jute thrives in warm, humid climates with minimal water and pesticides, making it a gentle crop on the environment. But jute's talents extend far beyond sustainability. Surprisingly strong and durable, it creates long-lasting products, from grocery bags to stylish rugs.

Jute even boasts natural insulation properties, keeping your home cool in the summer and warm in the winter. And that's not all! Jute has inherent anti-static qualities, repelling dust and dirt – a welcome benefit for allergy sufferers.

Jute emerges as not just a sustainable choice, but a practical and versatile fiber that enhances the comfort and well-being of your home.

Jute: A Global Story of Nurturing, Commerce, and Culture

Jute's story is surprisingly long for such a common material! People have been using jute for ages, with evidence suggesting it was even woven into clothes as far back as 3000 BC! Imagine that! Jute plants were even used as food in ancient Egypt.

Over time, jute cultivation became especially popular in Bengal, India. Things really picked up in the 1700s when the British arrived. Jute became a valuable export, and Scotland even became a major center for processing it.

Jute's story is like a rags-to-riches tale. From its humble beginnings as a workhorse fiber, it's weaving its way into stylish rugs, trendy bags, and even chic wall hangings. Don't be fooled by its past – jute is surprisingly strong, surprisingly beautiful, and surprisingly good for the planet.

 Even after India gained independence, jute remained important, though newer materials have given it some competition. But jute's strength, eco-friendliness, and other benefits continue to make it a valuable and interesting fiber with a long history.

When you choose Dimna.in, you're not just getting a beautiful product, you're joining a movement towards a more sustainable future.

Go for Gold: Discover the World of Jute Product with Dimna

Ignore the boring beige carpets and plastic totes! It's time to unleash the secured-up gem of the characteristic world: jute! You might know it best as the repulsive surface utilized in burlap sacks, but jute is so much more. It's a guerilla holding up to change over your household with a touch of healthy course and eco-conscious swagger. 

Keep in mind, going green doesn't have to be cruel investing a fortune – jute offers a touch of brilliant class at a cost that feels great as well. 

Jute product design alternatives available here :-

1 ) JUTE GIFT BAGS:-

Ditch the wasteful wrapping paper and upgrade your gifting with eco-friendly jute bags! Made from a rapidly renewable resource, jute offers a sustainable alternative that minimizes environmental impact.

Jute bags designs come in various sizes and colors, offering versatility for any gift. They can even be personalized with ribbons, tags, or custom printing for a truly unique touch.

Jute Gift Bag design is a natural, biodegradable material and its growing popularity in various sustainable products.

2) JUTE LUNCH BAGS:- Ditch the plastic, dine in style: Jute lunch bags take over! ♻️

Tired of boring disposable lunch bags? Do you want to get rid of plastic and adopt a sustainable lifestyle? Look no further than the trendy and eco-friendly jute lunch bag!

Why Jute?

Natural and sustainable: Jute is a vegetable fiber that is completely biodegradable. It is a free choice for the planet.

Durable and strong: Don't be fooled by its natural appearance! Jute is surprisingly strong and can handle your daily lunch routine with ease.

Stylish and Unique: Jute comes in a variety of colors and textures, allowing you to find a snack that reflects your personality!

More than just organic: Insulated options: Keep your lunch fresh all day with the insulated lined jute bag. ❄️

Spacious and versatile: Jute lunch bags come in a variety of sizes and offer plenty of room for your lunch containers, drinks and even snacks!

Easy to clean: Most jute lunch bags can be easily cleaned with a damp cloth.

#JuteLunchBag #SustainableLiving #EcoFriendly #LunchTime #BackToSchool #ZeroWaste

3) JUTE SHOPPING BAG / BAGS: -

Ditch those flimsy plastic bags and elevate your shopping game with a trendy and eco-friendly jute shopping bag! Jute, a natural and biodegradable plant-based fiber, makes these bags a guilt-free choice for the planet.

 But don't be fooled by their natural look - jute is surprisingly strong and durable, perfect for carrying even the heaviest groceries. Jute shopping bags come in a variety of sizes and colors, so you can find one that reflects your unique style.

Plus, they offer ample space for all your shopping needs, from bulky produce to pantry staples. Most jute bags are reusable and washable, and they even fold up for convenient storage.

#JuteShoppingBag #SustainableLiving #EcoFriendly #PlasticFree #GroceryShopping #ZeroWaste

[printbooks]

What Are The Benefits of Using Saddle Stitch Binding

In the bustling world of printed materials, where glossy magazines vie for attention and intricate hardcovers claim the spotlight, there exists a humble champion often overlooked: saddle stitch binding. Don't let its unassuming name fool you, for beneath its simple facade lies a hidden treasure trove of benefits, ready to empower your next printing project. So, let's peel back the layers and discover why saddle stitch deserves a starring role in your creative arsenal.

The Budget-Conscious Bard: Saving Stories From Financial Fiascos

Forget breaking the bank! Saddle stitch is the Robin Hood of binding methods, championing affordability with its streamlined process. No fancy adhesives, no elaborate machinery – just paper, staples, and a touch of craftsmanship. This translates to budget-friendly magic for pamphlets, brochures, magazines, and small booklets. Think cost-effective marketing materials, budget-friendly event programs, or even self-published zines, all brought to life without draining your creative coffers. Imagine capturing your audience with captivating brochures at trade shows, sharing your artistic vision through self-published booklets, or crafting stunning presentation materials for your next big pitch – all without feeling the pinch on your wallet. Saddle stitch whispers sweet nothings to your bank account, allowing your stories to shine without financial strain.

Speed Demon: Conquering Deadlines with Stitched Agility

Ticking clocks and looming deadlines? Saddle stitch swoops in like a paper-winged warrior, vanquishing time constraints with its swiftness. Its straightforward process requires minimal setup and production time, allowing projects to sprint from concept to completion in a flash. Need a presentation booklet whipped up overnight? Or a captivating portfolio ready for that last-minute interview? Saddle stitch becomes your secret weapon, making those impossible deadlines feel like a distant echo. Imagine crafting stunning reports for your boss the morning of a crucial meeting, preparing captivating portfolios for unexpected opportunities, or even printing wedding booklets just days before the big day – all thanks to the agility of saddle stitch. With this champion by your side, deadlines transform from fearsome dragons to playful kittens.

Lightweight Powerhouse: Befriending the Postal Scales

Soaring postage costs can dampen the joy of sharing your story. But fear not, for saddle stitch is the postal service's dearest friend. It adds barely a whisper of weight to your printed marvels, making them postage-friendly powerhouses. Brochures, catalogs, and even small magazines can fly through the mail without breaking the bank, thanks to this featherweight champion. Think happy recipients receiving your work without the shock of astronomical shipping fees. Imagine sending out marketing materials to potential clients across the country, sharing your self-published zine with fellow creatives around the globe, or distributing event programs to attendees without worrying about hefty postage bills – all thanks to the silent heroism of saddle stitch. With this lightweight ally, the world becomes your stage, ready to be reached without financial burden.

Design Canvas: Unleashing Artistic Freedom One Staple at a Time

While often associated with simplicity, saddle stitch harbors a secret: it's a canvas for artistic expression. It embraces a wide range of page sizes, from pocket-sized poetry collections to expansive travel journals. The choice of self-covers or separate covers unlocks a realm of design possibilities: think textured covers echoing your theme, playful transparency offering a glimpse into your narrative, or bold, vibrant colors making a statement. And then there's bleed printing, where images seamlessly flow across the centerfold, creating a visually stunning experience. Imagine crafting personalized notebooks with covers that reflect your unique style, designing brochures that capture the essence of your brand with bold colors and textures, or creating art journals with bleed printing that allows your creativity to flow freely – all thanks to the versatility of saddle stitch. With this design champion by your side, your stories become not just words on paper, but artistic expressions that come alive.

Reading Comfort: Laying Flat and Inviting Deep Dives

No more wrestling with stubborn spines! Saddle-stitched booklets lay flat with grace, inviting readers to delve into the world you've woven on paper. This makes it ideal for educational materials, workbooks, and even cookbooks, where ease of navigation is key. Whether it's flipping through a recipe or mastering a new skill, saddle stitch ensures a smooth and enjoyable reading journey. Imagine students effortlessly reading through informative booklets, children captivated by colorful storybooks that lie flat in their hands, or home cooks navigating recipes with ease – all thanks to the reader-friendly nature of saddle stitch. With this comfort champion, your stories become an immersive experience, inviting readers to lose themselves in your words.

Environmental Ally: Weaving Stories Green with Sustainability

In a world increasingly conscious of our footprint, saddle stitch emerges as a champion of sustainability. Its glue-free process minimizes waste and ensures easy recycling. Additionally, its lightweight nature reduces transportation emissions, further contributing to a greener world.

Source: Benefits of saddle stitch binding

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

🌒 ☀️ ⛅

Werewolf Billy Russo x Female Reader

Part 5 of my 🌙 series!

Read part 4 here.

Warnings: angst! Mentions of abandonment.

Alsooo, please wish my pal @samhainduchess a very happy birthday! 🎂

"Are you Carla Russo?"

He's having that nightmare again. It's not a nightmare exactly, more of a memory.

He doesn't like to think about it when he's awake, but his brain won't let him forget. He's standing in front of her door, watching the peeling paint, thinking about what he's going to say. The paper with her name and her address is crushed in his hand. He's around sixteen at the time, wondering if they'll look alike. He raises his fist and knocks on the door. The sound echoes through the hallway and his heart jumps in his chest, worrying he's at the wrong door. He isn't expecting some beautiful motherly figure, he knows better, after having seen the state of the building. He knows that only addicts really call this place home.

He's rehearsed what he's going to say to her. He's going to introduce himself, tell her it's nice to meet her, tell her he's not looking for anything more than this meeting. Though he hopes for more, but doesn't every kid in the system?

He gets less than what he's expecting. He gets sullen eyes, pallid skin, messy hair and an ungodly stench. It's his hair though, maybe not the exact texture, but the colour. But a countless number of people have his exact colour hair. Not many have his eyes, though, but she does.

"Are you Carla Russo?" He asks, keeping his voice even, trying not to sound too hopeful.

The woman looks at him. She really looks. She must be doing some kind of mental math with the way she focuses on him.

"Don't know you. Go 'way."

The door closes in his face a moment later.

He thinks about knocking again, about demanding she listen to him. He eventually decides against it, turning away from the door with more pain in his chest than he had before.

That was the second time in his life that his mother had looked at him and decided she didn't want him.

He wakes with a heavy heart. He hated being reminded of that moment. He wishes he could have that memory pulled from his head. It's why he could never let you in, never open up to you. If his own mother didn't find him good enough, why would you?

Mothers were supposed to look at their kids and feel pure, unbridled love. Even soulmates, were supposed to be capable of loving you immensely. But if the first one didn't work for him, then why would the other?

He rubs at his eyes, but stop suddenly when he feels a light flutter in his chest. His sadness being washed away by serenity. It's you, soothing him unintentionally. If you knew that feeling in your chest was him, you probably wouldn't soothe him. No, that's not right, you were kind, sweet, you'd soothe the devil if he was upset. Maybe, just maybe, he could trust you.

There was the other thing though, the deeper the bond got, the more you'd be able to feel him, the easier it would overwhelm you.

He had years of practice in pain management, in loss, sorrow, rage. He knew how to filter these emotions, so that they wouldn't hurt him. But could you? His pain had hurt you so bad last night. He didn't want to hurt you that much ever again, even if it meant hurting you a little now.

He pushes these thoughts from his head as he gets up and moves to start his day.

You wake with an ache in your chest. It's so strong, you struggle to take in a breath. You close your eyes and imagine a place you feel safest, like your therapist taught you. You think about a meadow of flowers, the feeling you once had waking up in his arms. You let out a breath, a smile comes to your face. His arms really were the safest place in the world. Your lip wobbles at the thought of never feeling that ever again.

You breathe easier, opening your eyes. You gasp and sit up.

Holy shit this wasn't your bed.

You look around the room, it's his.

Memories of last night come flooding back and you groan. You definitely made a real fool of yourself. You flop back down, staring at his ceiling for however long, deep in thought. Maybe you'd be able to slip out unnoticed, but that was unlikely given the supernatural nature of your ex.

Fuck. Did you really tell him that you almost loved him last night? God dammit.

You stumble out of bed, groaning when too much light hits your eyes.

You pull open his bathroom door and walk right into him. He's wet, fresh from a shower with only a towel wrapped around his hips. You gasp as you touch his cold skin.

"Oh fuck I'm so sorry!" You say backing off. He laughs, gripping your shoulders to stop you from leaving.

" 'S alright, I'm done, no need to leave." He walks around you. You can't help but stare at his wet back as he leaves.

Damn.

You steal one of his t-shirts, keeping the same leggings you were wearing yesterday.

He's in the kitchen, prepping breakfast and everything feels way too domestic.

"Waffle?" He asks, not turning around when you walk in.

"Sure. Thanks."

You move to grab your phone, checking your messages. Karen needs a favour.

He turns to smile at you, placing a cup of coffee on the space in front of you.

"I'm sorry about last night," you say, "I made it weird. To be fair, it's your fault anyway."

He nods in understanding, turning to get the syrup.

Anxiety tics in you as you start to speak again.

"I guess, the way things ended was a bit unfair to me - no it's in that cupboard over there, yeah- and I was hoping you could give me a proper reason why we broke up?"

He stiffens when you finish your question.

You feel that lump in your throat again. You want to go to him, wrap your arms around him, kiss his chest and stay there indefinitely. You miss him, so much, you don't even hate him, you just want him back.

"Why did we break up?" You ask again, voice small. He looks up at you, and then back down.

He sighs your name.

"I deserve to know. I'm worth at least that. Was it me? Did I do something wrong?" You swallow, "Please, I need to know or I'll never be able to move on."

He blinks. The thought of you moving on burns his chest.

"I know it sounds cliché, but it was me." Billy says, "Something happened, and I'm still not able to process it."

"Then why break up with me? We could have figured it out together."

He shakes his head.

"I don't want to talk about this."

You sigh, clenching your jaw, feeling anger simmering beneath the surface.

You suck in a breath, trying to calm yourself.

You let out a little laugh at the absurdity.

"Sorry, I must be, the dumbest person in the world."

"Yeah, probably," Billy agrees, "I mean, you came back to me, crying like some heartbroken little girl last night. Don't you have any self respect?"

Your lips part in shock. Your heart squeezes as it replays his words. You gather your things angrily. Billy watches without a word.

"Y'know what? Fuck you." You say with shaky breath.

"You wish." He responds easily.

You don't let him see the pain he's caused, only the anger.

He feels it though, he feels the pain and decides that it's for the best. It's better that you hate him.

You walk out, fighting back tears.

"I need your help." Karen says when she picks up the phone.

You laugh, "Yeeees? Whatever you need."

"I need you to be my date to a wedding."

"Anything but that."

"Please! It's my friend's wedding and I need a wingwoman! Free food and open bar, and we'll share a room. Or you can get your own room if you want."

"Sharing sounds like fun, it'll be like old times in college. Why exactly do you need me?"

"I need some support, I'm her bridesmaid and I don't think I can do it alone, keep up with the itinerary without someone there."

You sigh, "Alright, sure. This could be fun." Unlikely.

"Yes! Let's meet up tomorrow to discuss details."

"Sure." You respond, very much unsure.

~

A/N: This part is a little short, so that the next part is life ruining. Thanks for reading! ❤

#werewolf russo #billy russo #my writings #ben barnes #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher

[jedidragonwarriorqueen]

“Please, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” and Royai please!

from these angsty prompts

youuuuu got it!! Hope you like it😊

(maybe I'll actually get down to drabble length by the time I'm done with these🤣)

.

Roy stared at the report on his desk, eyes unfocused, the rhythmic tapping of his pen echoing loudly in the silence.

He'd been staring at the same form for over an hour, pen capped and drumming against wood instead of uncapped and scratching against paper. If it had been a normal day, he'd have finished and moved on to the next one within ten minutes despite his best efforts at procrastinating; his lieutenant would have implored and prodded and threatened until the heaping pile in his inbox was finished, completed forms ready to be submitted by the time they were due despite the odds.

If it had been a normal day, he'd have flashed her a winning smile (that she was, as best anyone else could tell, immune to; only he could catch the slight softening of the skin around her eyes, or the way her tense shoulders relaxed just a fraction) as he placed the final sheet onto the pile with a flourish just as she gathered it up to deliver it to its next destination within the labyrinth of Amestrian military bureaucracy.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Lieutenant," he'd say, if it had been a normal day.

And if it had been a normal day, she'd respond in one of two ways. "You'd meet an untimely fate beneath a pile of overdue paperwork," she'd say, or something similar, "and then what would become of your grand aspirations?"

Or she'd roll her eyes, gather up the stack, and toss her words over her shoulder as she headed out the door. "I'm sure you'd manage just fine, sir."

But it was not a normal day.

Roy leaned back in his chair, a frustrated breath hissing out through his teeth as he finally gave up all pretense of even attempting to focus on the report in front of him. It wasn’t like there was anyone other than himself for him to fool. In a fit of petulance he hurled the pen away, the sudden noise of it clattering against Havoc's unoccupied desk almost satisfying, until it faded back into a silence as heavy as his sins.

Running a hand through his hair, he grimaced at the greasy texture against his fingers. The itch on his scalp was almost as irritating as that of the stubble on his chin, but he hadn't been able to find the energy to do anything about either, any more than he'd been able to do his laundry once he'd finally run out of clean uniforms. He'd simply picked the least wrinkled garments off his floor that morning and tossed them on. It wasn't like he had to set a good example for his subordinates. Or suck up to senior command anymore, damn them all.

Roy shoved his chair back and stood, grimacing as he stretched out the kinks in his spine and shoulders from hunching over his desk for so long. He glanced over at the clock, absently straightening his lost cause of a uniform jacket. 1423.

He should make his way to the mess hall; this was about the time Bradley would release Hawkeye for a lunch break, if he was going to give her one at all. If Roy was lucky, he could snag the seat across from her or perhaps only a few seats down the table. Perhaps he could even cajole her into eating something, or to at least drink some tea. Every time he'd caught a glimpse of her, she'd been progressively paler and more withdrawn, the shadows under her eyes deepening.

And god help him if she had another cut across her cheek, or fresh bruises on her wrists.

Making his way across the empty office, Roy swiped a folder he'd tossed haphazardly onto Falman's desk earlier; the man would have been more than a little disgruntled at the sight of his once-meticulously-organized workspace crowded with discarded papers and knickknacks. Continuing towards the door without a break in his stride, Roy's stomach rumbled nearly as loudly as the clicking of his boots, and with absentminded surprise he realized he hadn't eaten yet today.

He huffed, lips twisting in a facsimile of a smile. Hawkeye wasn't the only one whose appetite had suffered.

I don't know what I'd do without you, Lieutenant.

I'm sure you'd manage just fine, sir.

"I don't know about that, Hawkeye," he murmured.

#fullmetal alchemist #royai #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #fma fanfic #fma brotherhood #fmab #fma fanfiction #stars writes

[deathandmushrooms]

Hi! Hi! I love your blog a lot <3

I was wondering: do all the mushrooms you eat taste the same? Or are some more "spongy" than others? Are some spicey? How do you know that the mushrooms you eat are 100% THAT mushroom and not a closely-the-same-but-toxic-or-worse mushroom? Im sorry if that was an overwhelming question, haha! You dont have to answer if you dont want to, but you HAVE to know that I LOVE your blog! 💙

My very first ask! 😱😍 Thank you so much for brightening my little night! It's not a problem at all, and not-at-all overwhelming!

This answer might be though....

1. The mushrooms do not all taste the same! Some taste meatier--more savory (like chicken of the woods, or maitake--or what I call tree-chicken and tree-bacon respectively); some taste almost more like crab (Hericium)--this one can be a bit spongy; some taste a little peppery (black trumpet); some taste very earthy and a little smoky (old man of the woods)--but I might have just burnt that last one 😂. Sorry, Old Man: it will probably happen again.

2. Some mushrooms are great to forage because there aren't any mushrooms that look like that mushroom and are toxic. Like shaggy mane, giant puffball, or black trumpets (below).

I mean, you might confuse this with a blue chanterelle or pig's ear, I guess, in which case you have erred deliciously (Oh man I really want an apron with a picture of a black goat that says err deliciously on it now 😂--sorry, distractable)

Clyde Christensen talks about the "fool proof four," meaning fairly common mushrooms that are pretty safe for beginning foragers because it's really difficult to confuse them with something toxic (his are giant puffball, morels, chicken of the woods (below), and shaggy mane I think?).

Then, you have mushroms that might be confused with something toxic, just because something exists in your region which looks something like it and is toxic. Like, enoki mushrooms (something I'm on the look out for now) look like deadly galerina--a mushroom with the same amatoxin as the destroying angel which (if the name didn't give it away) can kill you.

But, even though they look very similar, there are reliable differences--like their spore print. If you remove the cap of an enoki, and leave it on a piece of paper, foil, or glass for a few hours, it will drop a white spore print. Deadly galerina drop a sort of rusty brown.

Some mushrooms are very rude and can't be distinguished from their toxic look-alikes with a spore print. Lots of white gilled mushrooms drop a white spore print, including some that you can eat and some that you can eat but only once.

But there's always something that distinguishes them, whether it's the shape of the base, the way the gills are attached to the stem (or not), the color, their environment, the texture, the color it turns when you cut into into it--and the more of these distinguishing features you know, the more confident you'll be that you have the right mushroom.

But, first time I forage something I cook up a small piece and eat it, wait 12 hours or so, meditate on the transience of life and my own mortality (kidding...mostly), and get really paranoid about any of my bodily sensations for a while 😂....Also bc you never know when you're going to have a sensitivity to something, even when it is the correct mushroom. I mean, kiwi is edible but I don't have a good time when I eat it. Though with those shaggy manes I found today I did not do that bc if I'd waited that long they'd be goo. I have yet to experience any ill effect from a mushroom, but if I do I will be in for a slightly less bad time than if I'd eaten a whole bunch of it at once.

But you get to know mushrooms, and trust yourself and your own ID and the waiting thing doesn't feel necessary any more. There are so many mushrooms and it can be pretty overwhelming. When I first started learning to formally identify mushrooms, I was so sure I would never eat something I'd foraged myself. I just didn't have confidence in myself...but I unintentionally cultivated that confidence when I was just having fun looking at and reading about mushrooms.

It's not at all an exaggeration to say that this hobby has been wonderful for my mental health, especially my anxiety....and I mean like, often-can't-leave-the-house and won't-answer-the-phone anxiety.

Learning mushrooms is a bit like moving to a new city or even country, if you're very new. There's all these streets and stores and people you don't know. But you start exploring bit by bit, maybe doing some research beforehand. Or you see something interesting, go "What that??" and research it after. And each time you learn one little area, you develop an eye (and nose) for what's most relevant and the vocabulary you need, and learning becomes easier and easier.

This metaphor got away from me. You don't do it all at once is my point. 😂

I take mushrooms one at a time, learn everything I can about that species, and then they start to feel familiar and almost sort of friendly. And I pass them on a hike and wave and say, "Hey Strobilomyces strobilaceus, how you doing, how's the spores?"

And then they don't say anything because they're a fungus. And then sometimes I take them home and eat them because they're also an edible fungus 💙

#mycology #mushrooms #foraging #fungi #anxiety #questions from the forest floor #long post #asks

[albertasunrise]

It's Yours - Chapter 1

Summary: You and Javier have been sleeping together for almost two years but after his name was leaked by the papers, he is sent home for investigation. You remain behind with Steve to catch Escobar but when he’s finally dead, you decide to go after the man you’ve fallen for. You don’t like what you find when you finally reunite with him.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy 18+

Relationships: Javier Peña x Reader

~

Your nails dig into the strong muscles on his back as he thrusts his hips at a maddening pace, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he chases his release. It was your last night together and you weren’t going to let him go without feeling him one last time and he couldn’t leave without one final taste of you. Pulling his head back his dark, lust-blown, eyes lock with yours and he lets out a primal growl as he feels your walls start to tighten around him.

‘You going to cum for me?’ He asks, in a low tone as he angles his hips so that he’s hitting that toe-curling spot over and over.

‘Yes.’ You moan ‘Fuck.’

You cum hard, screaming his name as tears leak from the corner of your eyes and you pull him right along with you. He collapses beside you, chest heaving as he fights to catch his breath and you chuckle as you roll onto your side to look at him. You both remain silent for a short while, revelling in your post-sex bliss as the sounds of the city drift through the open window.

‘You need to quit smoking.’ You say as you place a loving kiss on his shoulder.

‘I think you may be right Hermosa.’ He replied with a breathy laugh as he turned his head to look at you 'But I don't need to start tonight.' He sniggers as he lights one and takes a long toke, blowing the smoke away from you.

‘What time is your flight tomorrow?’ You ask, smiling sadly at him.

‘A little after 12.’ He replies, turning his head back towards the textured ceiling.

‘Do you need a lift?’

‘Murphy’s driving me.’ He replies coldly, not looking at you as he speaks.

‘Right.’ You roll out of his bed and start to collect your clothes, grabbing his attention.

‘What are you doing?’ He asks, his stomach sinking at the sight of you getting ready to leave.

‘Getting dressed so I can go home.’ You state plainly as you scan the floor for your shirt ‘Isn’t that how it works? We fuck and then go our separate ways?’

‘Can you stay?’ He asks and you look at him in surprise ‘Just for tonight.’ He paused as he gave you a wounded expression ‘Please.'

‘Okay.’

You left early in the morning, taking one last glance at his sleeping form before turning to leave. You knew it was wrong of you to just go, but your heart was aching at the knowledge that he was leaving you and you had to stay behind to finish what he's started. He deserved to see this to the end. Sure he'd made mistakes but he made them for the right reasons. Sometimes you have to do bad things to catch bad people as he would say.

~

One month later…

Staring up at the departures board you see your flight listed just below Murphy’s and you glance at your partner who stood at your side, watching you curiously.

‘What Murphy?’ You grumble as you let out an exasperated huff.

‘You’re going to Texas?’

‘Yes.’

‘Because you felt like a change or because that’s where Javi is?’

‘I have family there. I have a ton of leave to take so decided to visit them.’ You lie, shrugging your shoulders ‘Since my parents died, my aunt and uncle are the only family I have left.’

Murphy looks away guiltily. You’ve fooled him. Good.

'What will you do when you get back to Miami?'

'Hold my wife and daughter.' He states as he smiles at the thought of them 'I've missed out on so much.'

'Connie loves you, Steve. She'll be overjoyed to have you back.' You say sweetly as you give him a genuine smile.

'I hope so.' He replies, giving you a slight nod.

You look at the departures board again and see that your flight's terminal is nowhere near your partners so you turn to Murphy and prepare to say goodbye.

‘It’s been a pleasure Stevo.’ You say with a smile as you hug him tightly.

‘Don’t be a stranger.’ He replies, giving your arm a friendly squeeze.

‘I won’t.’ You give him one last hug and then head your separate ways.

'Say hi to Javi for me.' He shouts over his shoulder and you can't help the smile that crosses your lips.

When you finally reach your gate, you take a seat on one of the thinly padded benches and pull out the address Javier had given you on your last night together.

‘This is where I’ll be.’ He’d told you ‘You know… If you wanted to come to see me.’

You’d chuckled at that and told him you'd consider it... Then you’d left early that morning before he’d even woken up because you hadn't wanted to face saying goodbye to him. You’d regretted that move but knew he wouldn’t have cared, you were just fucking after all.

The flight was long and you weren’t able to sleep a wink, your leg shaking nervously the entire time. They'd served the in-flight meal but you couldn't eat a bite, the smell making your stomach turn. When you heard the captain announce that you would be landing in Laredo airport you feel your pulse quicken, palms starting to sweat as your nerves got the better of you. It was late when you landed, gone 11 pm by the time you made it out of the airport and so you decide that you would find a motel for the night and drive to Javier’s father’s ranch in the morning. You rent a car at the airport and drive around the unfamiliar town until you find a semi-clean looking hotel, the vacancy sign flashing in the dim light of night.

‘That’ll be 100 dollars for the night with breakfast included.’ The lady at the desk states, passing you a key with a large wooden tag attached, 101 carved onto it.

‘Thank you.’ You reply as you give her a genuine smile ‘Is there anywhere around here that’s still open where I can get something to eat? Just had a long flight and the plane food made my stomach roll.’

‘There’s a bar down the street.’ She replies ‘Does the best nachos you’ll ever taste.’

‘Great. Thanks.’

You make your way to your room, dropping off your luggage before heading to the bar the girl had mentioned. It was painted a dark red, a neon sign flashing ‘Open’ hanging in the window and you push open the door and make your way inside. Taking a seat at the bar you raise your hand to grab the barman’s attention, smiling as he approaches you.

‘Not seen you here before.’ He says as he smiles at you and you can’t help but notice how attractive he is.

‘I’m visiting some family.’ You reply ‘I hear the Nachos here are the best around.’

‘You heard right. Can I get you an order of those?’

‘And a beer.’ You finish as you give him a genuine grin and he gives you a wink before going off to give the kitchen your order.

You let your eyes scan the bar. It’s fairly busy for a Wednesday night. Mainly men scattered around the various tables and booths, a few women in small groups giggling as they sip their cocktails and you suddenly feel lonely, but the feeling disappeared when your beer is placed down in front of you.

‘So, how come you’re here alone?’ He asks as he leans against the bar polishing a glass.

‘I only landed an hour or so ago.’ You reply as you sip at your beer ‘Noting it’s a favourite of yours yet you’re finding it bitter.’

‘And is there a boyfriend in the picture?’ He asks and you can’t help but blush.

‘There’s a guy.’ You reply, taking another sip of your bitter beer ‘But he’s not my boyfriend. Not sure what we are if I'm honest. We kinda had a -friends with benefits- situation going on but I fell for him. They never end well eh?’ You chuckle and he responds in kind.

‘Shame.’ He replies as he gives you a cheeky grin ‘Would love you take you out.’

Your nachos arrive and sure enough, they are the best you’ve ever had. You chat to the barman, learning all there is to know about Lurado. You talk for a few hours before you inevitably have to leave.

'If things with that guy don't work. Feel free to call me.' States the barman as he hands you a scrap of paper with his name and number on it.

'I will.' You reply as you suck on your bottom lip.

When you get back to your room for find yourself emptying your stomach. You put it down to being jet-lagged and decide that sleep will help but when you wake up in the morning you find yourself hugging the toilet again, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin as you lean against the tiled wall. You brush your teeth and head down for breakfast but every smell that greets you makes your stomach turn and you soon find yourself sprinting for the toilet again but all you can do is heave, your stomach completely empty now.

‘What the fuck is wrong with me?’ You asked yourself as you rinse your mouth and face with water.

Then your mind starts to go over the facts. Your tastes have changed, smells are making you sick.

‘I can't be… can I?’ You ask yourself as you count back the days since your last cycle and your breath hitches.

You're two weeks late.

You practically sprint out of the motel, remembering that you’d seen a pharmacy down the road. You buy a pack of tests and make your way back to the motel, taking it a little slower as the Texas sun beats down on you. You happen to peer into a diner as you approach it and your heart stops when you see who’s sat by the window, smiling at a woman sat opposite. You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart in your throat, stomach twisting in knots as you watch him laugh at something she says whilst he strokes his thumb over her knuckles and he looks at her the way he used to look at you. A server comes to speak to the woman he’s with and he looks up and out of the window, his eyes then locking with yours. You don’t realise your crying but he can see it and his brows furrow as he tilts his head slightly. You can’t look at him a moment longer. You have bigger things to worry about and so you will your legs to move, practically sprinting down the sidewalk to get away.

‘Hermosa?’

You stop dead in your tracks but you don’t turn to face him. You’re shoulders shake as your sobs wrack your exhausted body.

‘What are you doing here?’ He asks and this makes you turn to face him.

‘Seriously?’ You spit, eyes red with tears ‘You should get back to your date Javier.’

‘Hermosa wait.’

‘Don’t you dare call me that!’ You growl ‘You don’t get to call me that. Not now.’

'You left me.' He states and you feel your anger explode.

Without another work you storm towards the motel, stopping by the front desk and asking if you’re able to extend your stay another night. You pay her and sprint back up to the room, pulling out the tests and heading into the bathroom. You're angry because he's right. You did leave him but as you look down at the box of tests in your hands you decide that this is more important right now. You need to know. So you follow the instructions and you pee on two of them, deciding that it's better to be safe than sorry and you place them facing down beside the sink, watching the minutes tick away on the clock opposite the bathroom door. You wait the five minutes it states on the box and turn to look at them, your hands shaking as you close your eyes and flip them over. Taking a deep breath you crack your eyes open and let out a sob at what you see.

Both of them are positive.

A million and one thoughts go through your head. You’re panicking as you think about what to do. Do you tell him? It’s his after all. You’d not been with anyone since he’d left. You sit there and stare at the tests, allowing your mind to think about the future. You growing round with Javier’s baby and you feel a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. What if he doesn't want it? What if he's serious with that woman? You don't want to be a homewrecker. Do you want to keep it? Are you ready to be a mum? You ponder all of these things for a long while as you stare and the two sticks of plastic in your hands. Yes. Yes, you are ready.

‘I’ll tell him.’ You say to the tiny being inside you ‘If he doesn’t want anything to do with you then that’s fine. We’ll be okay on our own.’ You pause as rest your hand on your stomach 'He's a good man your dad but he's complicated. Never one for settling down yet despite us not being an official couple he remained faithful to me for two years and I was to him.'

You shower and brush your teeth, needing to remove all evidence of your rough morning and head out a little after midday. Hopping into your rental car you pull the address out of your pocket, fingers brushing against the positive test you’d decided to bring and causing your heart to skip a beat. You sat there for a moment and imagined what they might look like. Would they have his expressive brown eyes and golden skin tone? Or would they have yours? Shaking your head you start up the car and pull out of the parking lot, following the signs for the area stated on the slip of paper on your lap. His father’s ranch is surprisingly easy to find. It sits a few miles outside of town and you feel your heart race as you make your way down the dusty drive. The house is a decent size. It's well kept with one large truck parked out front. To the left are some stables, two horses grazing in the field beside it and the nicker and whinny when they see you hop out of your car and head towards the house. You let out a shaky breath as pluck up the courage to knock on the door, your stomach doing somersaults as an older man answers and studies you for a moment before he speaks.

‘Can I help you?’ He asks, his accent much like Javier's Must be his father You think to yourself.

‘I’m looking for Javier Peña. Is her here?’ You asked, your voice shaking as you speak.

‘He’s up by the river mending fences.' The man states 'Follow that track up... You can't miss him.’ He states and you nod your thanks before getting back in your car.

'You're her aren't you?' He asks, stopping you dead 'He mentioned that he'd seen his partner from Columbia in town this morning. Also mentioned it wasn't a pleasant reunion.' You turn to look at him as he sizes you up 'He was broken when he left to fix those fences. You best not be going up there to break him more.'

'That's not my intention.' You state and he nods before heading back inside.

You get back into your car and make your way down the road you were told to follow and sure enough, you see Javier. He's adorning the same shirt he’d been wearing this morning, his signature yellow aviators tight jeans. He looks up when he hears the sound of tires on gravel and watches as you exit your car. His eyes follow you as you step towards him, gaze locked to his. He removes his shades as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing and you finally you come to a stop opposite him, your heart thundering so hard you’re sure he can hear it.

‘What are you doing here?’ He asks coldly with a stoic expression.

Your mouth moves but no words leave your lips. You think long and hard for a few moments about what to say to him but decide to cut straight to the chase. You need to get it out there.

‘I’m pregnant Javier.’ You state plainly as you pull out the positive test from your pocket ‘I'm pregnant and it’s yours.’

~

Chapter 2

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña #narcos fanfiction #narcos

[whats-a-clever-username]

Can I get a fuckin uhhhh Eddie for the character thingy :3c

A morning or a night person

To be either would imply the man sleeps, and doesn't sleep for a day when he does. If he had to pick, though, night suits him best.

A waffle or pancake person

Neither. Both are terribly messy, and the texture of syrup- which is a necessity to both- is atrocious.

Coffee or tea person

Either or, depends on the mood- and which available has more caffeine. He prefers coffee, however.

Cake or ice cream person

Fool. Icecream cake. Specifically mint chocolate chip icecream cake.

Paper or e-book person

Once again, either or. There are times and appeals for both.

Beach or mountain person

Neither. Edward is a city boy through and through and also burns horrifically.

Pen or pencil person

Pencil. Much better for drafting and sketching ideas. Additionally, they make far better improvised weapons.

Video games or board games

Video games. Obviously.

Type or handwrite

Typing is much easier for thinking than writing.

Rather be too cold or too hot

Absolutely neither, though he can handle the cold better...

Sing or dance

A multi talented man like himself needn't choose, should he? (He sounds like nails on a chalk board though.)

An OTP I have including them:

Riddleghost...good.

A NOTP I have including them:

Not necessarily a hard no, or even a no at all, but I don't really see the appeal of Ed and Harley.

A hidden talent they have:

Card tricks. :)

#please don't tap on the glass #bonesaw-cowboy #edward nygma #riddler #batrogues #dc comics

[stanskzseungmin]

BC ~ Corpse Party

Supernatural! + CorpseParty! AU

Genre: Angst, Horror

Trigger Warnings: Graphic descriptions of gore and death, Chan has a bit of a potty mouth oop-

Word Count: 4834

A/N: I took light inspirations from Corpse Party, but it isn't a direct retelling of the series. Credits to the original owners of Corpse Party for giving me inspiration for this imagining as well as credits for the character, Sachiko, and the Sachiko Ever After charm.

A/N 2: i actually tried to proofread this time (I know, shocking), but I got lazy and really want to get this one up lmao. So we kinda dying like men?

A/N 3: I suggest listening to the soundtrack as you read, but it's fine too if you don't.

~

~

Chan and you had always been close. You both grew up as next door neighbors. The two of you formed a fast friendship when your ball accidentally rolled over to your neighbor’s yard with it stopping by his feet. The dark haired boy with chubby cheeks looked at you with your red cherry ball within his hands. You had asked him if he wanted to play play along with a wide toothy smile that showed the gap in your teeth. You ran over the boundary to grab him by the wrist and the rest was history.

“Hey, short stuff. Are you ready to leave this hell hole?” Chan chuckled landing a light punch on your shoulder.

“You’re not going to be able to leave this hell hole if you don’t study for your final. I didn’t agree to stay after school to tutor you just for you to fool around,” you smiled back tossing a rolled up paper ball at him. The ball bouncing pathetically off his forehead, eliciting a “hey!” from him.

“Nu uh. You’re not tutoring me, I’m tutoring you,” Chan enunciated by pointing at himself then pointing at you.

“Dork,” Chan laughed at your remark. ”Chan, we’re tutoring each other on different subjects.”

“I can’t wait to go home, I’m pooped,” Chan exclaimed dramatically.

“Me too, but we’re stuck here until the storm ends,” you pointed your pen to the window with rain pattering against the glass as the night sky lit up with a loud thunderous boom.

“Ugh!” Chan leaned back in his chair and throwing his head back.

“Might as well to use this time to not procrastinate and squeeze in extra studying,” you suggested.

“But I don’t wanna~” Chan whined.

“What are you? 8?” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Don’t you have any other ideas?” Chan sighed slumping over the table, sprawling his limbs over both your notes.

“I got one idea.”

“Do tell,” Chan sat up leaning his cheek on his hand.

“Do you have scissors?” you asked pulling out a sheet of paper. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” Chan rummaged through his backpack for the school supply.

“Have you ever heard about the ’Sachiko Ever After’ charm?” you asked grabbing the scissors from his grasp.

“Mmm mmm,” Chan pressed his lips together as he shook his head.

“I read it on a blog online,” you started, cutting the paper into a doll shape. “It’s a charm that blesses people with eternal friendship.”

“Lame,“ Chan snorted.

“Rude,” you pouted.

“Hey, we’ll still be friends forever,” Chan smiled grabbing your hand gently shaking it softly. “So what is it?”

“Legend has it that years ago there was a school that was met with a tragedy. The school nurse died in a tragic accident: she fell down the stairs and her neck was deformed and bent out of shape. Allegedly her daughter, Sachiko, went missing that same night.”

“And this ensures eternal friendship how?” Chan inquired, his eyebrow quirking up. The room lit up as thunder boomed.

You shrugged as you cleaned up the shape of the paper doll. “They say that her spirit still wanders the earth and she has the ability to grant wishes. If you do the ‘Sachiko Ever After’ charm, her spirit will channel through and give her blessings for eternal friendship.”

“Cool,” Chan smiled. “So how do we do it?”

You held up the paper doll. “We need at least two people in order to do the charm.  We both have to firmly grasp parts of this doll, then we chant ‘Sachiko, we beg of you.’ We have to do it in our head, one time for each person in the room. In our case, we have to chant it twice. Afterwards, we have to pull on the doll. Ideally, we keep the paper scrap on our person at all times.”

Thunder struck loudly as the room shook lightly.

Chan laughed. “This could be a sign? Sachiko doesn’t want us to be friends.”

“Very funny, Chan,” you responded sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Chan grinned at you grabbing the doll’s legs with you grabbing the head.

“You ready?” you looked at him.

“Yeah,” Chan smiled.

‘Sachiko, we beg of you. Sachiko, we beg of you.’

Chan and you made eye contact and nodded to each other signifying you were done. With a firm grip, you both pulled on the doll, the paper ripping along the waist.

Lightning tore through the night sky as deafeningly loud thunder broke through the silence. The walls shook lightly as the lights flicker. The window shatters as the harsh winds force the tree branch that was tapping on the glass to break through.

“Wack,” Chan frowned, leaning over to his backpack to grab his wallet and slide his piece of paper into it with you doing the same to yours.

“So, now you’re stuck with me for eternity,” you giggled.

“Gasp. The horror!” Chan smiled as he grabbed the fabric of his shirt over where his heart is residing before throwing an arm around you to pull you into a hug.

You and Chan paused as the entire building shook. The tables moving along the vibrations. The lights were flickerings as books were shaken out of the book shelves.

“Earthquake!” Chan called out, reaching out to grab your shoulders to pull you down to the ground.

“Channie!” you called out, with panic laced in your voice.

“I’m here, I got you-”

The ground shook once more, this time the shaking was so much more forceful. You felt the vibrations stopping momentarily as the ground disappeared below you. Your heart skipped a beat and you and Chan stared at the dark abyss that suddenly appeared below you. Soon afterwards, both you and Chan starting falling into the darkness as a scream ripped out of your throat.

“Y/N!” Chan called out to you, reaching out to you. Your hands reach up to grab at his sleeves as he pulled you close to his body. “Don’t let go!”

That was the last thing you’ve heard before you were engulfed by the darkness.

~

~

You awaken (by Stray Kids) in an unfamiliar place. You sat up slightly, feeling the searing pain in your shoulder. You let out a small whine as you rubbed at your aching shoulder with your free hand.

“Chan?” you called out for your friend realizing he wasn’t with you. “CHAN?!”

You stood up on your knees as your frantically looked around the room. Outside the window was the same familiar thundering storm, but the room you were in was unfamiliar. The walls were greying and weak. The paint has chipped off, worn over the years exposing the weak splintering wood underneath. The floor was made of the same wood. There were holes decorating the floor as a few planks were popped up. Surrounding you were many desks, broken and tattered, knocked over haphazardly. Curiously, the desks were all on the smaller side. There were a few posters pasted to the walls, the ink and image faded away due to age. You can barely make out the faded text and image. It looked to be what was one a colorful cartoonish image with various letters on it.

Were you in...an elementary school?

“Channie?” you called out again, standing on your feet.

Thunder rumbled lightly outside as the rain pitter pattered lightly on the window. Lightning cracked through the atmosphere again, illuminating the dark room momentarily. You screamed at what you saw, backing up quickly. Your back roughly collided into the book shelf as you lost balance. Your hands reach out to the shelf to catch yourself.

Opposite of you on the other side of the room, was a sprawled body. An arm was outstretched as the head rested on the limb. Both eyes were void of any contents as it appeared as if a vast emptiness was staring deep into your soul. The mouth was open in a silent scream. The skin was grey with several wrinkles and had a texture similar to leather. The clothes were ripped and tattered as you saw bone peeking through the holes.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, feeling your legs give out under you. You curled up on the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. Your hands overlap over your erratic heart as your breaths labor. You felt a chill ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. You lifted your arm into view as your fingers grazed over the bumps to soothe them.

In your peripherals, a blue light illuminated the corner. In curiosity, you faced the light. Your heart dropping as your eyes widen. In a seated position with her knees pulled to her chest, a girl, red, boring deep into your souls. Her skin looked pure and pale as a sheet, but her red attire, what used to be a pretty red dress was torn and distressed. The fabric was fraying out and dirtied with who knows what -- things you wouldn’t dare to imagine. The figure’s hair was long and dark and in disarray. Strands of hair lingered in front of her face as her glaring wide eyes peeked through, you can feel her gaze burning holes through you.

You made eye contact with a girl as you felt an electric shock running throughout your veins. Cold sweat began forming in various spots in your body as your breathing became increasingly more labored. Fear wracked your body when you realized that your limbs felt as if it wasn’t your own anymore. The girl, without a sudden sound, stood upright in a straight posture and walked menacingly close to you. You wanted to protest, but even your mouth betrayed you. Your mouth was fixed in its clenched position as you were forced to watch the specter inch ever so closer to you. A hand was brought to her chest as the object glinted. Held by the base of the blade, was a squeaky clean unrusted pair of scissors as the lips curled upward in a small innocent smile.

Your blood curdling scream ripped through the air.

Chan had awaken with a jolt as he shot awake. His head was pounding as he rolled onto his back with a pained moan. He brought his fingers up to the throbbing pain, feeling warm liquid and a slight stinging upon contact. Bringing his hand into view revealed to the Aussie his brilliantly red coated fingers.

“Fuck,” Chan let his hand fall limp as he screwed his eyes shut. Chan let out a breathy sigh as he cracked his eyes open a bit. He took a nice long look at the cracked, worn and discolored ceiling not recognizing it.

“What the fuck? Where am I?” Chan wondered out loud shooting up into a sitting position, wincing loudly at the throbbing on his head protesting from the abrupt action.

“Ow ow ow,” Chan pressed his palm firmly onto the head wound as he willed himself off the ground. 

Lightning illuminated the room briefly. It was a small quaint room with faint evidence of childish crayon and marker scribbles on the wall. The floor was littered with various markers and crayons as well as various toys. Chan scanned the room from left to right. He eyed the sprawled out letter blocks, each block was gathering dust and spread out haphazardly. He then analyzed the several balls that were scattered on the floor. Chan’s eyes narrowed at a point of interest as he stepped forward towards an oddly familiar ball.

“What the fuck?” Chan shook his head in disbelief. His hand reached for the ball, his fingers grazing over the worn rubber as he rolled it towards him. 

“No,” Chan said sternly backing away quickly from the ball. Written on the ball scribbled with permanent marker was his and your names from your childhood days. Chan remembered the ball that started his long lasting friendship and vaguely recalled the ball popping and tossed due to the worn rubber from continuous use and play being weak and thin. Chan remembered the ball bouncing into his parent’s rose bush and the beloved toy popping.

“That’s- that’s not possible,” Chan whispered out. Chan turned away to step out of the room only to trip over the stacks of blocks gathered by his feet. “What?”

Chan’s eyes darted to the corner where the blocks were previously rested at only to find it bare. How did it gather at his feet?

"This is getting freaky," Chan grumbled stepping over the blocks.

Chan made his way towards the door of the room only to find a flipped over toy remote car blocking the doorway. Unlike everything else in the room that was greying and gathering dust, the car had a brilliant gloss and sheen over the red paint. Chan bent down to pick up the toy car and examine it closely. It looked to be in pristine condition with a fairly strong smell of fresh plastic.

"Why- aah!" Chan yelped when the car revved to life as the front two wheels began turning left and right frantically dropping the car as it fell and bounced on the ground. Pieces of plastic shattered and fluttered off during impact. The car bounced and rolled until it was on its hood, the battery casing popping off the bottom.

It was empty.

A loud scream shrieked through the atmosphere as Chan jumped up ready.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Chan barreled out of the room into an unfamiliar hallway. 

"Oh shit," Chan cursed as he stopped just in time, swaying back and forth trying to keep his balance. The room Chan was in led to a collapsed floor. The wood was splintering around the edges and the remaining wood creaked and groaned under Chan's weight. Chan peered down the hole, it seemed endless; Chan was unable to see past the darkness.

Chan pressed his back against the wall to shimmy his way to his right down the hallway back to solid ground. Going left wasn't an option do to the lack of structurally sound wood, the ones that were there looked as if they were rotting away and can give way when applied any sort of pressure.

Chan could hear you scream once more.

"Y/N?" Chan looked past  the huge collapsed gap on the floor as he sees you stumbling out of your room, landing directly on your back. Your eyes were wide and glossy, your hair was disheveled with several strands sticking in every direction. Panic wracked through your body, Chan can see all the trembles and could almost hear your labored breathing.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Chan tried to call out to you from his side of the gap.

Your head slowly turned to face his directly as your face paled impossibly whiter as if you've seen a ghost. Whimpers erupted from your lips as you quickly back up and ran away.

"Y/N! Wait!" Chan called out, reaching out an arm, but you were already gone.

You whimpered to yourself as you slowly walked down the stairs, jumping slightly after every creek of the wood holding against your weight. Paranoia wracked your being as your dilating eyes dart back and forth at every single nook and cranny. The air felt heavier the further you walked down as if there were more paranormal activity in the air, but you kept pushing on. You needed to get away from that thing you saw.

"Anything was better than that," you would whisper to yourself in a dire attempt to console your erratically beating heart.  A fleeting feeling rushed through you. The heavy atmosphere felt as if it was pushing against you, the weight of it putting pressure over the entire surface area of your body. Your thighs subconsciously rubbed against each other as your hands absentmindedly trailed down to your pelvis area. You didn't notice it before, but it felt full and overflowing, close to bursting. The heavy atmosphere made the need for relief more dire.

You whined loudly. Why did you need to go now of all times?

You rushed down the hallway, each step creaking loudly in protest as you pushed opened the door. You yelped after being greeted by another deceased form, two actually. One larger than the other as it held the smaller within its arms. Both their eyes were hollow and dark like the one before, but their facial skin had more integrity. It was off colored with hollow cheeks. Their clothes looked clean, almost too clean. What was more off putting was the familiarity of it. You screamed shaking your head vigorously as tears flowed out in streams with your body shaking in fear. 

They were donning what you and Chan were wearing.

"How horrible," Chan grumbled gazing at the sight of two bodies before him. One was was upright against the wall with the other sprawled on the floor. The one sat up right had a dark stain on their dress shirt. The once white shirt now had a large black spot. The skin underneath looked raw and torn, the flesh looked ferociously torn open by a wild animal. The other body lying on the floor had a similar black stain along their jaw. The body had decayed enough where the skin shriveled and exposed the teeth, within the junction between two teeth had evidence of meaty flesh that used to be there.

Chan groaned in disgust as he leaned down to grasp at the discarded piece of parchment. The back was blank and had a dark browning blood smear. Chan turned the piece of parchment over to read the desperate chicken scratch. Most of it was illegible and covered by drying bits of blood and dirt. 

"We… starving.

… food… 

Itchy… scratchy…

Rock, paper, scissors

Loser… eats winner."

"Oh my fucking god," Chan exclaimed tossing aside the scrap note. "This has got to be a sick joke." 

Chan shuddered momentarily as he continued down his hallway trying to make his way to you. Chan wasn’t really the type to believe in the paranormal. Sure, Chan liked to indulge in the superstitions and the good scare of ghost stories (much to your dismay), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he believes in them. The whole building seemed to look in complete disrepair as if not a single soul has been here for years. The entire place was silent, more or less, the only noises that permeated throughout the entire building were the muffled thunderstorm outside, the building settling and himself. Chan’s entire body stiffened as a cold chill ran down his spine. A low moaning came and went like it wasn’t even there. Chan whipped around to check his behind only to see nothing out of the ordinary. Soft gurgling could be heard, similar to someone gurgling their mouth with mouthwash. Chan whipped around once more, each noise came and went but it sounded like it was directly behind him. 

“What is this bullshit?” Chan mumbled under his breath, turning back the way he was originally going. His breath hitched when he noticed a figure of a small child glowing a pale blue at the end of the hallway. Chan’s eyes widen as he blinked repeatedly. 

“No,” Chan spat. “I am not seeing ghosts.”

The same gurgling sound could be heard from the child. Chan gulped once he finally took in the child’s entire appearance. The child was wearing what used to be a white sweater, the white now painted a brilliant red along with a simple pleated skirt, knee high socks and black flats-- standard elementary uniform. While her body seems physically unharmed, her head was an entirely different story. Chan froze in place as he felt as if his feet were nailed to the ground. The girl trudged towards Chan with a slight wobble and limp to her step. A bloodied hand was outreached trying to grasp at Chan as she walked closer. Chan’s jaw went slack staring directly at the girl, everything jaw up was missing. It was a painful sight. The skin looked red and raw, the anatomical evidence of the upper mandible and the upper vertebrates of the spine was gone. Pieces of hair were desperately holding onto the missing skin of the neckline and the skin desperately looked like it was ready to roll back down as if you wore pants with too loose of a waist band. The flatness of it was horrendous, the lower half of her head look as if it was displaying the lower jaw and tongue on a rouge serving platter. 

Another loud scream broke him from his trance. Your scream. 

The headless girl still walked over towards Chan every so slightly with an arm outstretched with gurgling noises coming from the blood bubbling in her esophagus. Even if the danger before had a higher threat, his priority was you. Chan pushed forward sidestepping the girl, her tiny hands barely missed Chan as he rushed for the staircase behind her. Chan barreled down the stairs, his left hand holding on the railing using it as leverage to swing around the staircase. Chan let out a pained yelped as his fingers sliced on something. Chan stopped where he stood to examine his fingers. A huge gash was lined diagonally beginning from his index down to his middle as the blood spewed out in rivers of red as it dripped to the floor. 

“Ah, shit. Shit, shit, shit,” Chan cursed grasping at his fingers trying to stop the blood flow. Upon closer inspection, Chan noticed a singular nail protruding out of the hand rail. A bundle of piano wire was gathered around the metal objects as it stretched out to the wall opposite. A small portion of the wire was dyed red with Chan’s blood as a singular drop fell towards the floor. 

“What the fuck?” Chan breathed out, analyzing the wire. His uninjured hand ghosted over the wire wincing by how sharp it was. It was thin, almost transparent to the naked eye. Only upon close inspection with a critical eye, would one see the metal wire. 

“That’s fucked up,” Chan ducked under that metal wire to continue on.

What you don’t know, can’t hurt anyone right?

You were currently waddling with your thighs being pushed together as you desperately trying to hold it in. You had some pride within you, you wouldn’t be able to live it down if you had to squat in the corner to relieve yourself. Even if Chan never knew about it, you can practically hear Chan clowning you about it for the rest of your life. 

“Oh my god, yes! Thank you!” you sighed as your bolted toward the restroom with a sign that displayed a silhouette in a skirt. Your hand reached for the handle when a familiar voice from within stopped you. It was an old fashioned knob with an old fashioned keyhole. You kneeled down peek through the keyhole. As you expected, the voice was indeed familiar. You could see Chan standing before a stall. His head was hung low slightly. You noticed there was someone in the stall Chan was standing in front of, but you couldn’t see or hear who it was. Only parts of her front were peeking out of the stall, you can faintly see the outline of the figure standing on a bucket with their arms rope bound before her. You could also make out a rope tied to the ceiling.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you panicked as your heart raced in your chest. You watch Chan without hesitation kick the bucket from under the figure as their bound hands flew to their neck. “Oh god. Channie, why?” you wailed out. You gasped when you see Chan turn his head towards the door, his eyes were hidden behind his fringes that were matte and almost sticking to his forehead. 

Whimpering lightly, you stumbled backwards totally ignoring the need to relieve yourself as adrenaline rushed through your system. Quickly getting up to your feet, you sprinted the other way, ducking into the first hallway you passed. Your eyes were clenched shut as you blindly sprinted the other direction. The sound of your erratic heartbeat was thundering loudly in your ears as you heard heavy footsteps behind you.

You screamed when you collided with a hard chest. The impact sending you falling to the ground with you landing on your butt ungracefully.

“Y/N?” the voice called out to you. You felt his hand gently grasping your arm.

“No! Let me go!” you wailed, kicking at your assailant.

“Y/N? Y/N! It’s me, Chan! It’s ok, I got you!” he tried to calm you down by grasping at both your flailing arms.

Your eyes cracked open to the man before you. How did he end up ahead of you? You didn’t even stop to consider that he actually looks different. Unlike the Chan you saw just moments before, this Chan actually had a head injury-- red, raw, puffy and bleeding and his fringe was still styled up and out of his face exposing his forehead and eyes. 

However, the murder you had witnessed was still fresh in your mind. You screamed and thrashed within Chan’s grip who was desperately trying to ground you in reality. Your breathing was getting ragged and breathy as panic struck. You watched Chan murder someone, what if he was going to murder you too?

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Y/N. Just breathe!” Chan spoke calmly trying not to prod at your panic attack. “Y/-” 

You managed to release your dominant arm from his grip and gave him a firm blow to the jaw with your fist and kicking him off of you, by landing a swift harsh kick to his torso knocking the air out of his lungs and him flying backwards. Chan was coughing roughly from the harsh attack. 

“Y/-” he coughed, interrupting himself mid sentence. You got up, jumping over his downed body and sprinted down the hallway. 

“Wait! Y/N!” Chan called out to you as he stood up to follow.

“Get away from me!”

“Why? Y/N, wait! Talk to me, please!”

“No! No! No! Leave me alone!” you bawled, your voice cracking after every word. You pulled open the door to the stairway and ran up the stairs. The door swinging shut behind you as Chan’s eyes widen in horror remembering what was there.

“Y/N! DUCK!” Chan screamed out desperately.

“What?” you breathed out.

Thump.

Chan’s heart skipped a beat as he stopped before the door. Suddenly he felt as if he was a fly ensnared in a fly trap. His legs were heavy as if gravity had his ankles in a vice grip. 

“Y/N?” Chan whispered out, his voice betrayed him.

“Y/N?” he called out once more weeping.

He willed his legs to move even if they so desperately want to stay rooted to the ground. With trembling hands, he wrapped his fingers around the door handle and slowly pulled the door open. His heart was trembling in his chest as he feared what was going to be revealed behind the door.

“No, no, no,” Chan weeped shaking his head. His face scrunched up as his lips parted to weep and his eyes welled with tears. A strong stench of urine filled his nose. Your body was slumped over the incline of stairs with a leg bent awkwardly in an unnatural direction, a puddle of liquid pooling just below your pelvis. Your eyes were wide staring straight at him as your jaw went slack. Your cheeks were decorated by the recently running tears. From the piano wire suspended in between the wall and the railing, a section was red and dripping as your head rolled, bouncing pathetically down each step like a deflated ball with it stopping by his feet.

“Hey there! Do you want to play ball with me?” you called out with a toothy smile, showing off the gap between your teeth proudly.

Ugly screams ripped through his vocal chords. Chan’s cries of despair, mourning and pure raw emotion kept coming out. His voice reverberated throughout the walls. Chan fell to his knees, his hands grasping at his locks pulling at it as he kept screaming. His eyes were wide as his gaze couldn’t focus on anything other than your lifeless orbs.

Stood atop the stairway as the familiar headless specter in blue. Chan looked at her in horror as tears free fell from his eyes. She outreached her hand again, but this time something was within her small grasp. Chan recognized the faux leather material, the smiling faces of you and Chan was shown from the display pocket of your wallet. In her other hand, the bottomless paper doll that was yours. Chan can feel the weightless paper scrap securely stored in his wallet weighing down his pocket.

“Cool,” Chan smiled. “So how do we do it?”

You held up the paper doll. “We need at least two people in order to do the charm.”

We need at least two people in order to escape.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids angst #stray kids chan #bang chan #skz chan #stray kids imagines #chan