#Talking Threads Store

[eijiroukiriot]

it's been a sec since i've done a translation! but i think this comic is really sweet so translation under the cut!! the title on the comic is "kiribaku and tododeku who aren't public about their relationship (having mild heart attacks)", and the caption on the tweet is "i wanna read 10000 stories about people finding out about kiribaku and tododeku's relationships"

Hero Radio OFFTiME! On our program, you can hear top heroes spill a little bit about their private lives. Today's hosts are Deku and Red Riot! What kinds of things will they talk about? Let's see!

Midoriya: Man, you must be tired! You came here straight after a night shift, right? Are you feeling alright?

Kirishima: All good! Besides, you've been working ten days in a row, right? Good on you!

(word bubbles - Very, Very Tired)

M: Alright then, our first letter of the night...this one comes to us from BlueMackerel-san, who asks, "How did you spend your last day off?"

K: Uhh...oh yeah! Hiked 'n camped! And ate a ton of campfire food!

M: Oh, with Kacchan?

K: Yep!

M: He sure does like hiking.

Flashback Kirishima: WHOOPIE!!

Flashback Bakugou: Just eat it

M: What'd you two eat?

K: The works! Spare ribs, and homemade sausage, and meat, and more meat! Bakugou always packs a ton of meat to barbecue, it's crazy good! What about you?

M: Mmm...I slept in until around noon...and I think that day, Todoroki's family invited me over for dinner. His sister is a great cook!

Flashback Fuyumi: Welcome, welcome!

K: Coooool. So we both ended up just spending the day with our boyfriends, huh-

M: UH- um-

K: Huh? OH-! Cut! Cut!! Can you guys pretend you didn't hear that last...

M: Ohhhh my goddddddd

Narration: Our next letter comes to us from DieYouScum-san, who writes, "I'm killing you when you get home"

[misslisamiray]

Yesterday started off pretty shitty. First off, I didn't bring my Rick Bear with me to the blood center because it looked like it was going to rain more & I didn't want to risk him getting damaged. Adding insult to injury (or rather, the other way around judging by my sunburn 😅) the rain stopped & the sun came out in full force. So I could have definitely brought him.

Then the blood center was... not successful. More about that later maybe. At least the bruising is super minimal, & since they weren't able to get anything out of me, there's no deferral time.

But my day started to get better with the news there's FINALLY a release date for the RaM anime. I'm so excited for that, and it's just over a month away now! Then I decided to take a walk to the Goodwill about a mile away, and look!

After having zero luck finding anything at two Savers near me, I now have the start of my Rick cosplay!!! Yes, I got both shirts, but the first is the one I'll be using.

[cannibalise]

posts an intro in a discord and immediately feels sick im sooooo normal

[pallases]

oh boy

[leafdlc]

paid a whopping $9.25 for all these spools or thread and also 3 backup bobbins(at 10c each) :3

[celticwoman]

on the bus feeling pretty 😚 im in such a good mood despite everything :D

[jzixuans]

every day i am thinking abt maruti-bitamin’s store and every day i have to restrain myself from shelling out

[werewolf4vampire]

tfw you start thinking about how all clothes that are even remotely close to fitting you are either made with sweatshop slave labor, are really expensive and ugly/not your style (with workers still being exploited), or really, really expensive (and probably still not really your style/size) 🤪

[gwenthebard]

I feel like something that doesnt get talked about enough is how fast fashion is coming to hobbies as well. Sure, you can sew, knit, and crochet something better than youd buy in store, but good luck finding quality materials

Want a fabric that doesnt fray from being gently caressed? Want yarn thats not 100% plastic and splits if you touch it wrong? Good luck finding that if you dont have a genuinely good crafts store near you.

Go on any thread where people are trying to figure out where to buy fabric. 50% of it is people saying big stores are servicable, online stores work, or the like, and the other 50% are talking about how bad the quality is or how the quality of a website dropped because it was bought out

Were running into a problem where fast fashiob is so integrated into society that even the ability to make your own, comfortable and long lasting, clothes is being threatened by capitalism

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[umabloomer]

I got a job at a Ukrainian museum.

On the first day someone asks me if I have any Ukrainian heritage. I say I had ancestors from Odesa, but they were Jewish, so they weren’t considered Ukrainian, and they wouldn’t have considered themselves Ukrainian. My job is every day I go through boxes of Ukrainian textiles and I write a physical description, take measurements, take photographs, and upload everything into the database. I look up “Jewish” in the database and there is no result. 

Some objects have no context at all, some come with handwritten notes or related documents. I look at thick hand-spun, hand-woven linen heavy with embroidery. Embroidery they say can take a year or more. I think of someone dressed for a wedding in their best clothes they made with their own hands. Some shirts were donated with photographs of the original owners dressed in them, for a dance at the Ukrainian Labour Temple, in 1935. I handle the pieces carefully, looking at how they fit the men in the photos, and how they look almost a hundred years later packed in acid-free tissue. One of the men died a few years later, in the war. He was younger than I am now. The military archive has more photographs of him with his mother, his father, his fiancé. I take care in writing the catalogue entry, breathing in the history, getting tearful. 

I imagine people dressed in their best shirts at Easter, going around town in their best shirts burning the houses of Jews, in their best shirts, killing Jews. A shirt with dense embroidery all over the sleeves and chest has a note that says it is from Husiatyn. I look it up and find that it was largely a Jewish town, and Ukrainians lived in the outskirts. There is a fortress synagogue from the Renaissance period, now abandoned. 

When my partner Aaron visits I take him to an event at the museum where a man shows his collection of over fifty musical instruments from Ukraine, and he plays each one. Children are seated on the floor at the front. We’re standing in a corner, the room full of Ukrainians, very aware that we look like Jews, but not sure if anyone recognizes what that looks like anymore. Aaron gets emotional over a song played on the bandura. 

A note with a dress says it came from the Buchach region. I find a story of Jewish life in Buchach in the early twentieth century, preparing to flee as the Nazis take over. I cry over this.

I’m cataloguing a set of commemorative ribbons that were placed on the grave of a Ukrainian Nationalist leader, Yevhen Konovalets, after he was assassinated. The ribbons were collected and stored by another Nationalist, Andriy Melnyk, who took over leadership after Konovalets’ death. The ribbons are painted or embroidered with messages honouring the dead politician. I start to recognize the word for “leader”, the Cyrillic letters which make up the name of the colonel, the letters “OYH” which stand for Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN in English). The OUN played a big part in the Lviv pogroms in 1941, I learn. The Wikipedia article has a black and white image of a woman in her underwear, running in terror from a man and a young boy carrying a stick of wood. The woman’s face is dark, her nose may be bleeding. Her underwear is torn, her breast exposed. I’m measuring, photographing, recording the stains and loose threads in the banners that honour men who would have done this to me. 

Every day I can’t stop looking at my phone, looking up the news from Gaza, tapping through Instagram stories that show what the news won’t. Half my family won’t talk to the other half, after I share an article by a scholar of Holocaust and genocide studies, who says Israel is committing a genocide. My dad makes a comment that compares Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto. This gets him in trouble. My aunt says I must have learned this antisemitism at university, but there is no excuse for my dad. 

This morning I see images from Israeli attacks in the West Bank, where they are not at war. There are naked bodies on the dusty ground. I’m not sure if they are alive. This is what I think of when I see the image from the Lviv pogrom. If what it means for Jews to be safe from oppression is to become the oppressor, I don’t want safety. I don’t want to speak about Jews as if we are one People, because I have so little in common with those in green uniforms and tanks. I am called a self-hating Jew but I think I am a self-reflecting Jew.

I don’t know how to articulate how it feels to be handling objects which remind me of Jewish traumas I inherited only from history classes and books. Textiles hold evidence of the bodies that made them and used them. I measure the waist of a skirt and notice that it is the same as my waist size. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Jewish homes during pogroms. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Palestinian homes during the ongoing Nakba. Clothes hold the shape of the body that once dressed in them. Sometimes there are tears, mends, stains. I am rummaging through personal belongings in my nitrile gloves. 

I am hands-on learning about the violence caused by Ukrainian Nationalism while more than nine thousand Palestinians have been killed by the State of Israel in three weeks, not to mention all those who have been killed in the last seventy-five years of occupation, in the name of the Jewish Nation, the Jewish People — me? If we (and I am hesitant to say “we”) learned anything from the centuries of being killed, it was how to kill. This should not have been the lesson learned. Zionism wants us to feel constantly like the victims, like we need to defend ourself, like violence is necessary, inevitable. I need community that believes in freedom for all, not just our own People. I need the half of my family who believes in this necessary “self-defence” to remember our history, and not just the one that ends happily ever after with the creation of the State of Israel. Genocide should not be this controversial. We should not be okay with this. 

Tomorrow I will go to work and keep cataloguing banners that honour the leader of an organization which led pogroms. I will keep checking the news, crying into my phone, coordinating with organizers about our next actions, grappling with how we can be a tiny part in ending this genocide that the world won’t acknowledge, out of guilt over the ones it ignored long ago. 

[leadendeath]

i have so many (embroidery) projects on the go at once (WHICH IM ACTUALLY WORKING ON?!?) that im running out of embroidery hoops to work on them on

FEELS GOOD

[lissdiary]

during the holidays, it was tradition to participate in secret santa with the class. you reached into the basket, picking a folded piece of paper with one of your classmate’s name on it. you hoped it was katsuki’s name, but unfortunately it wasn’t. it was mina’s name on the paper, and while you absolutely adore her you had hope it would’ve been him.

you noticed denki handing the basket to katsuki to grab a paper. he unfolded it and hid in his pocket, you couldn’t help but wonder who’s name was on his paper. you had a crush on katsuki for a few months now and when your friends began teasing the both of you, it lead to you slowly getting to know another. you both grew a close bond, causing your crush on him to grow more and more. that same night, you were walking to your dorm when you noticed katsuki opening his door, leaving it slightly open. it was a sign for you to come in, a common thing the two of you do when you wanna talk to each other.

you knock twice before you opened the door, spotting the blonde cleaning his desk. “hey kats, whatcha doing?” you walked up behind him, catching him off guard. he jumped to the sudden question, putting whatever was on his desk away. “nothin, nun of yer’ business.” he closed his drawer, turning around to look at you. “didn’t look like nothing to me, was that for your secret santa?” you teased him, causing him to roll his eyes and sit on his bed. you followed, sitting beside him. “tch, no. i’m not doin’ that.” he spat out. you knew katsuki wasn’t the brightest or most spirited person, but you had hope he would’ve participated if your name was on his paper. guess not.

the next day, you asked katsuki to accompany you to go shopping. you wanted to grab a few things for yourself, but also for mina. you instantly knew what to get her, a gift she’d happily accept. katsuki followed you around like a pup, putting on an act as if he didn’t enjoy it.

you stumbled upon a store that had cute fashionable clothes that appeared to look like mina’s style. you grabbed a couple shirts and skirts and went upfront to pay. at the counter, there was a display of phone charms. you already had one but the color was wearing off and it was hanging on by a thread. you grabbed one of the phone charms to look at it closer, but ended up putting it back since you already have one. katsuki took a mental note of this, looking at your phone charm then looking at the new more detailed one. he knew you liked stuff like that, plus it was time for a new one. after a while, you both decided to head back to the dorms in order to prepare mina’s gift.

katsuki notices everything about you, your favorite coffee order, the way your perfume smells, whether you prefer gold or silver, your favorite flower, and your favorite season.

as christmas came by, your gift was nicely wrapped topped with nice lacy ribbon. you sat on the couch, waiting for secret santa to commence. you noticed katsuki was sitting across from you with his hands in his pockets, a slight angry pout on his face. when it was your turn, you grabbed your gift and walked over to mina. “merry christmas!” she took the gift in her hands, opening it excitedly. she squealed, “aw thank you soo much, yn! i love it!” she stood up from her seat to give you hug. you sat back down and waited for your gift.

after it was over, you realized you didn’t receive a gift this year. “oh, yn doesn’t have a gift? did someone forget?..” you thought to yourself, maybe someone had forgotten to get a gift, or forgotten to put your name in the basket. you went upstairs to your dorm, teary eyed at the fact that someone forgot about you.

you noticed katsuki’s door was slightly open again, you knocked twice before entering. katsuki was sitting on his bed, a gift basket beside him. he still had his typical angry pout on his face, but this time he looked nervous. “merry christmas”, he mumbled looking away from you. “kats? what is this?” you walked up to the basket, quickly noticing how it was filled with everything you love or recently mentioned to him. “ts for you, idiot. i was your secret santa.” you looked at him with tears in your eyes, giving him the biggest hug.

you felt so relieved to know that someone got you a gift, that katsuki had gotten you a gift. “thank you, kats.” you got off of him to look at the basket, you immediately noticed the phone charm. “did you seriously go back just to get this for me?” you picked it up, removing the old one to replace it. “tch, noticed yer old one was all worn out, thought it was time for a new one. yer welcome.” your heart jumped, you never realized how much he truly payed attention to you. katsuki had went out of his way to get everything for you, on top of that decorating it to your liking. “thank you kats.”

“yea whatever.” he mumbled.

christmas couldn’t have gotten any better.

sweet request from @teddi1423 ♡!

— sorry if i’m lagging on reqs, i’ve been so busy this whole week & will continue to be until next week ! i promise to publish soon !

[japancup1984]

mosaic.wav has so many hits but imo this wins. like it's not just fun, it's meaningful too. cheers me up when i hear it

[alexaloraetheris]

Oh boy, I feel like it's time for a post nobody will like.

We all know clothes are getting worse. Recently I found some jeans I bought in high school, and since I lost weight recently I tried them on and they fit, so I'll be wearing them once we get out of the Hell season.

But I took them and compared them to the most recent pair of jeans I bought, and... Honestly the difference in quality is so fucking stark it made me want to give up on life. The jeans I wore in high school have gone through everything. I'm talking half of Europe here, because one of our teachers was pretty big on school trips everywhere she could get the money for. They've been washed, tumbled, survived an actual car crash and they're still good.

The most recent pair I machine-washed ONCE, everything else was hand-wash only. I babied them to the max because they made my ass look like was on Instagram. Do you know what they look like now?

They're full of fixes like these. They lasted less than a year on their own. I got another decent year out of them SOLELY because I kept fixing them. And fixing them again. The crotch alone I had to fix SEVEN TIMES. I COUNTED.

And these weren't cheap jeans! C&A jeans tend to be around 40$ these days, and I got these for about 30 with a discount. I expected them to last me AT LEAST a few years, because those high school jeans? THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING BRAND.

Considering this was the quality I was getting for nearly 40$ I figured I might as well get the same quality for 15$ and downloaded SHEIN. I didn't get jeans from them but I got some light, fluttery summer pants in the style that, honestly, I fucking love. I got three pairs for the price of one C&A jeans, and I am aware I will have to baby them even more, because out of the five pairs of pants in total I have bought on SHEIN only ONE is made of the fabric that I might be brave enough to machine wash. And with SHEIN continually getting sued for using sweatshops I probably won't be getting those pants again.

So what to do with that shitfuck situation?

I am insanely lucky my grandma knew how to sew really well and didn't mind me looking over her shoulder as long as I was quiet. I am aware that's not a skill everyone has, but quite frankly? When nobody has any money and even paying big bucks for clothes does not guarantee any kind of quality, and even fucking THRIFT STORES are full of just junk now, I think it's time to face the facts.

You need to learn how to sew.

I'm not talking about sewing your own clothes, though if you can and you have the time and patience, it's probably the best option (good luck finding decent fabric, because we can't even find THAT anymore unless you're ordering from fucking Belgium). I'm talking about fixing up seams and sewing on a patch, little repairs that make your clothes last. It might be junk, but with sewing you can make it last twice as long for the price of a spool of thread.

Now that I've pissed off everyone who is, for some reason, morally opposed to learning how to sew because it's a 'girly hobby' or 'supporting the patriarchy' (a take that left me baffled like nothing else) I'm going to piss off everyone who already knows how to sew.

I recommend getting this little guy.

It's called a stapler sewing machine, for obvious reasons. If I recall correctly, it was invented to fix clothes on the go for fashion shows and/or cosplay. It does only a chain stitch and needs to be pushed manually, but if you need to, like, hem your trousers and you don't want to spend half an hour on doing it manually (and don't already have an actual sewing machine) this is a lifesaver.

Here's a tutorial how it operates:

Now, why am I recommending this? Because it will only set you back six bucks. I got two right off the bat because I was banking on one not working (and I was right) and so I could use it for spare parts. The one in the video (Spring Come) is the one I have as well, and it's the one that actually works. I can't vouch for any unmarked ones, but the blue one works. It IS a little temperamental, but with a bit of practice it makes things so much easier.

The reason I'm not recommending an electric machine of any kind, even the one that costs 18$, is because, if you're a beginner, then an automatic sewing machine becomes a machine that exponentially speeds up the rate at which you make mistakes, and if it breaks down, good luck fixing it unless you have a dad/uncle/friend who knows his electronics. This thing can be fixed with a screwdriver, and takes the same needles as an ordinary sewing machine.

You can buy a bundle of needles just about anywhere for any price and they'll be decent as long as they're steel, but I would recommend looking for some actual better quality thread. Everywhere else, you can pinch pennies, but the thread itself is what's holding your clothes together, so this should be the part where you're looking for quality instead of price.

Alright, those of you who didn't scroll past with a derisive scoff at my take, I hope I've been helpful.

[goatmilksoda]

I was GOING TO write and play minecraft tonight but some drunk kid decided to start crushing cars in his MANLY RAM TRUCK on our street (including my dads!) So we've been dealing with that.