#pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board

[pulim-v]

Going insane over Housewife Radio again

[rodolfoparras]

I NEED Prices old man pussy on my face right now😩😩🤤🤤

- 🔪

It was a stupid idea but it was an idea nonetheless, having price sit on your face while fully clothed to prove he wouldn’t crush you with his weight.

It must’ve been one two or three too many drinks when you’d asked Price to sit on your face, which he’d only responded with a look as if you had killed someone right in front of him, which was ironic since that was what he did for living.

However he’d been quick to explain that he was too heavy, that he was bound to crush you with his weight and that you should just do things your usually way, with him spread out on your sheets and with you buried between his thighs.

Any other day you’d take him up on his offer but by that point you’d long forgotten about the act itself, too focused on the way he sees himself so being the person that you are with one too many drinks in your system you’d have him put his weight on your chest whilst the both of you were fully clothed just to prove that you could take it.

So here he is, with his weight pushing down on your chest, calves pressing at the side of your ribs and his hands fumbling around on your pecs to adjust himself

“See, told you that you had nothing to worry about,” you slurre out, bleary eyed and mindlessly caressing his thighs.

However he doesn’t respond, eyes looking anywhere else with his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, hands nervously fiddling on your chest.

“Hey, hey, we don’t have to do anything alright?” You say, snapping out of your drunken demeanor for a second “just wanted to show you I’m stronger than you think old man, you have nothing to worry about” you say, words coated in liquor as you flash him a reassuring smile.

“It’s not that” he croaks out, adam's Apple bobbing as he swallow hard, thighs squeezing the side of your ribs.

That’s when you finally get a whiff of his musky scent, eyes automatically falling to the spot between his legs, noticing the way the fabric outlines his cunt, with a small wet patch prominently showing on it.

“You- you aren’t wearing any underwear”

He doesn’t turn to meet your gaze but from where you lay you can see his face turn red, can hear the shaky breath escaping his lips, hands flailing in the air to explain himself. “I’m sorry I usually go commando -“

“Fuck it’s okay” you croak trying to ignore the way your cock twitches at the sight” it’s alright just - just relax yeah?” You say, your own hands shaking where they rest on his legs, as your pulse sounds through your ears. “Do you do you want to uh continue this? We don’t have-“

“I want to,” he says now meeting your gaze, and tone as firm as his words.

“Okay fuck okay” you say, laughing in disbelief and out of excitement, blood pooling to the lower half of your body as you squeeze at his thighs in reassurance.

“You’ll uhm you’ll have to move a bit closer, can’t really reach “ you say feeling heat creep up your own neck, ears and cheeks as the words tumble past your lips.

He doesn’t respond, head ducking down as he shuffles further up your chest.

You reach out with your hands to help him adjust himself so that you now can feel his heat licking at your cheeks, can almost see the way his pubic hair pokes out through the sinfully thin fabric, can almost taste him on your lips.

“Tell - tell me to stop whenever ” you croak out, before you’re cranking your neck up to lick stripe along his clothed cunt.

The slight hitch in his breath and the squeak of the wooden board is all you get in response to your question.

So you deliver another broad stroke and this time you earn a verbal response but instead of telling you to stop, you hear the words “please god please” tumbling past his lips.

And who are you to deny such a sweet request, you think to yourself as you crank your neck, swiping your tongue over his clothed clit and watching the way the fabric darkens more from your spit.

“Fuck” he squeaks put, hips bucking into your touch as he clutches onto the headboard for dear life.

However quickly your neck starts to ache from the awkward angle and you prompt the older man to sit on your face.

That’s when he freezes up again, familiar words slipping past his lips, I’m too heavy, I’ll crush you, but you're quick to shut him down with a slap to his thigh.

“If you think this attests my strength then I’m a little worried for your intelligence captain” you say with a chuckle which only earns you a slap to the head.

“Ouch! Okay I’m sorry” you say through a pained laugh “but really I can handle it”

The last bit of doubt trickles out his eyes, teeth releasing his worried bottom lip as he starts to lower himself down but you stop him with a hand to his hips.

“Clothes” is all you say and you see the look of realization flash across his face before he turns red as he quickly shuffles off his sweats, his lower half completely bare before he’s back to hovering over your face.

He’s about to say something, probably to state his worries once again but before he can do so you’re pulling him down onto your face, with your eager tongue pushing past his slick folds and tonguing his hole.

He doesn’t get a moment to breathe, doesn’t even get a moment to think about the thoughts that worried him previously, complety lost in the sensation of you relentlessly fucking your tongue into him.

It’s almost too much, it becomes too much when your lips mercilessly latch onto his clit, sucking eagerly at the numb til Price is sobbing, sweat trickling down his spine and hips clumsily grinding down onto your tongue.

He doesn’t even comprehend when he had started riding your face, uncaring of anything except for the fact that he’s inching closer to his release.

“Cu-cumming” he manages to squeak out before he comes undone with a cry, body shaking and headboard threatening to break under his hands.

Later when he’s laying on your chest, you got a smug look on your face as you say the words.

“Told you that you had nothing to worry about”

[sephirthoughts]

New Tseng Headcanons!!

Tseng being a smug villain about blowing up the Sector 7 support pillar and dooming thousands to death, but also holding on to Aerith's letters for Zack because he can't bear to throw them away, which would be tantamount to admitting Zack is really gone. He's complicated.

Tseng can see the Whispers but is gaslighting Rufus about it to amuse himself

this is because Tseng is all ice-cold badass on the surface (like it's a matter of legend that he may have ever smiled once) but he's an absolute menace and he's secretly clowning everyone

it was him who stuck gum on the bottom of all of Reno's shoes

it was him who replaced Elena's bullets with blanks that one time so she thought she was a terrible shot for a whole day

it was him who anonymously circulated those embarrassing photos of Rude when he had his MC Hammer phase as a teen (Rude was not embarrassed in the least and maintains that he looked cool in parachute pants, with a flat-top fade)

it was him who threw a red scarf in with Rufus' laundry when they were in Junon and it was the only suit he brought, so he had to do a press conference in bright pink

it was him who taught Darkstar to bark wildly whenever Scarlet says the word "boring" or Hojo says the word "fascinating"

Tseng actually laughs really easily and has a very childish sense of humor. a lot of the times that he's being all silent and stoic and mysterious, it's because he literally has to bite his tongue to stop himself laughing at some stupid shit, and he can't talk while he's doing that

no one but Tseng's mother has ever actually heard him laugh (like really laugh not the villain laugh he does when he's making a theatrical scene about some evil shit he's up to)

Tseng smokes when he's stressed. no one in the fucking world knows about it and they never will. there is never even a molecule of lingering scent on him ever. the lengths he has to go to in order to accomplish this are….excessive, since no one would give a shit if they knew he smoked. he just doesn't like anyone knowing anything about him

on that note, no one knows where he actually lives. he keeps multiple dummy addresses on file with Shinra to throw the HR people off. the other Turks can't even figure it out because he always spots them when they try to tail him. like from 200 yards that asshole is supernatural or something

he considered Zack his best friend because they had several missions together and exchanged multiple sentences outside of work, due to their both caring for Aerith. it destroyed him that he failed to save Zack and he became even more cold, detached, and emotionally unavailable because of it. no one ever noticed any of this because he's a goddamn pro

he still has the letters

he's a huge dorky ridiculous Vincent Valentine fangirl and the secret president of the (admittedly very small) fan club

the fan club is called the TV Club, as in Turk Valentine, because that makes it sound like boring nerd shit that no one would be curious about if it happened to come up somehow

most of the TV Club members are retired Shinra employees who had crushes on Vincent back in the day, before he disappeared. the conspiracy theories regarding him being alive rival those of the famous Elvis truthers, and some of them get weirdly close to the real facts (those ones ironically are the most laughed at and least believed theories)

there is some very well written but anonymous reader-insert Rookie Turk x Agent Valentine fanfic on their message board, but no one can prove who wrote it

Veld is also in the fan club

so is Sephiroth for reasons currently unknown

people say Tseng's Turk Valentine cosplay is absolutely stunning (mostly because he's also beautiful, black-haired, and Wutaian) but they have no idea how how very much painstakingly historically accurate detail is in it. he had the suit custom tailored from a vintage midnight-blue worsted wool fabric that he had to hunt down because it's not in production anymore

he actually checked Vincent's old service sidearm out of the Shinra armory on supposed official Turk business to go with the costume even though everyone thought it was a replica, because real weapons are not allowed at the convention center. he knew. that was enough.

he wore the costume for the office halloween party, one year, but everyone at work just thought he got a new suit. Reno almost had a brain aneurysm over even that much, though, so it's probably for the best that they didn't notice.

however, the fact that they didn't notice the very obvious blood-red contact lenses made him deeply worried for the future of the Turks. everyone was required to attend remedial espionage training the next week, much to their bitching and moaning

@soundcrusher tagging you cause you said that you wanted to see this silliness. you brought it upon yourself! 🖤

[icancdramahanfu]

Maomao's skirt

Since I have decided to torture myself and do a cosplay in just over a month, I figured I would start with the easier part - the skirt.

In my intro post, I mentioned that her skirt isn't Ming accurate being vaguely mamian-like but not really. For this I played with two main ideas, using one of my other skirt patterns that has pleats and would be mamian-like or go for the circle skirt.

The fabric I selected was around 2 1/3 yards - less than I'd like but it was the entire remaining bolt and the color was perfect - don't trust my indoor lighting here. With the limited amount of fabric I had to do a little tetris to decide what pattern pieces to use. I washed and dried the fabric before ironing it.

My first and preferred pattern was this one:

Simplicity #2710 - 1949

I have already made this skirt, it has thick pleats and falls nicely. I figured it might be a good selection and I'd get that extra Ming style with lazy pleating.

Circle skirt

Less complicated since all I had to do was determine my waist, put it as the circumference and make a 1/4 circle pattern with my pre-marked cutting board. The bolt was 46" from selvage to selvage meaning if I kept one strip I had more than enough for a waistband. I am currently assuming a 4" wide waistband and went with 42" for the skirt length.

Unfortunately for my original plan, the vintage Simplicity pattern was too wide with the pleating. I'd need 3 1/2 yards of fabric and my current pattern pieces were set for a length of around 36" as well to the hem.

Circle it is!

Made my pattern pieces, two so that I could see how to fit them. The fabric has a decent thickness and I didn't want to fold it over and cut, opting to instead chalk out each piece individually on the fabric.

And yes, that is wrapping paper as usual with the square grids on the backside. I love this type of wrapping paper so handy! I cut out my fabric and took it to the sewing machine.

Next, I went ahead and did a zigzag stitch along all the edges except for the selvage. This fabric was showing how it would fray immediately. I washed it in the machine and this is what the edges looked like after drying.

Somehow, I messed up on the waist portion of the skirt panels and I had to take them down by 2". Not sure how I messed that up since I had the radius calculated. I tested this by holding them up to my body and realizing it was off.

Recall, that I have a very limited amount of this fabric, fearing something odd, I went ahead and sewed the front pieces together selvage to selvage and then the back ones. When I held them up to my waist they were still slightly off. I put in the right side seam and made sure all my seams were pressed. Something about my top of the panel pattern is off by a smidge and I need to put in about 3" of a spacer. I decided to put it down for the day and I'll figure out how to put that piece in, since the hips are okay?

It will also allow for me to decide if I want to be lazy and put in a side zipper. I'll go back and put a pocket in the right seam for sure. The next day - I went ahead and made a triangle to wedge into the gap area before putting in the zipper. I held the skirt up to my waist and measured it with my measuring tape. I zigzag stitched it and put it in the spot.

I also pressed the seam well. Then I decided to put in an invisible zipper in the spot for a side zip. I had to unpick the seam a bit to fit the zipper in further and get it up around my hips. Whoops.

Due to adding in the wedge the zipper is at a bit of an angle as shown here. I estimated the zipper coming up higher on the waistband so, I but in a hook and eye on the top to pull it together.

It turned out fine, I'm so limited by the fabric I have to work with. I still have enough to put in pockets on the right side. However, with the skirt cranked out in less than 24 hours, I have it now hanging to even out the hem. It hangs the right way so I'll take it.

Always remember to let your garment hang before hemming. I'm likely going to put some bias tape on the bottom, since this fabric is very prone to fray and then fold that up as opposed to a double folded hem. It is in place and will hang out in the closet for a day or two!

That's all for now! I'll start working on the aoqun this week as a modified pattern from my previous ones.

[thewaxingcrescentsjournal]

OH POOR CHILD

This is lore related

RADIO by GHOST (all I did was change the pronouns in the lyrics from he/him to she/her)

FM comes in different colors, I believe

in the sewing machine I've lost myself

memories inside my heart are there to grieve

color coded by the love she gave to me

AH, HER VOICE

IT SPEAKS TO ME THROUGH THE RADIO

PRESSING SPOTTED FABRIC ON AN IRONING BOARD

LOSING BOBBINS UNDER THE TABLE, IS IT SO?

EVERYDAY IT FEELS LIKE SEAMS ARE MORE THAN TORN.

[dtv-official]

Stitch, sew, cut, pull

Stitch, sew, cut, and pull

Stitch, sew, cut, pull

Stitch, sew, cut, and pull

Stitch, sew, cut, pull

Stitch, sew, cut, and pull

Stitch, sew, I tried

Stitch, sew, you're alive

Uh-huh

Uh-huh

Uh-huh

Uh-huh

80 degrees, hemmed by reveries

Iron out saudade and wrinkles unfold

Off-grain fabric tells a different tale

Tailored frequencies need to be repaired

7 a.m. is when the station plays its sounds

Listening to the speaker while the patterns pin into place

Scissors separate the yellow from the white

Good morning, small-town listeners

Thimbles coat my fingers

Fed dogs are jamming up

The thread comes in tangles

I see such pretty things

FM comes in different colors, I believe

In the sewing machine, I've lost myself

Memories inside my heart are there to grieve

Color-coded by the love he gave to me

Ah, his voice, it speaks to me through the radio

Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board

Losing bobbins under tables, is it so?

Every day, it feels like seams are more than torn

Buttoned patchwork, thread that's tied in knots

Hand-sew everything with kind intention

Liquid sound waves pour from my eyes

My heart cries out to you in desperation

7 a.m. is when the station plays its sounds

Listening to the speaker while the patterns sew into place

Unmistakably, he'll return alive

His colors ought to show again

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red, the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red, the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red, the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red, the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red, the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red, the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red, the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red, the radio only plays in

FM comes in different colors, I believe

In the sewing machine, I've lost myself

Memories inside my heart are there to grieve

Color-coded by the love he gave to me

Ah, his voice, it speaks to me through the radio

Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board

Losing bobbins under tables, is it so?

Every day, it feels like seams are more than torn

doag tuah

OH COME ON YOU RUINED MY FUCKING JAM

[radioladynancy]

Stitch, sew, cut, pull

Stitch, sew, cut, and pull

Stitch, sew, cut, pull

Stitch, sew, cut, and pull

Stitch, sew, cut, pull

Stitch, sew, cut, and pull

Stitch, sew, I tried

Stitch, sew, you're alive

Hah-hah

Hah-hah

Hah-hah

Hah-hah

80 degrees, hemmed by reveries

Iron out saudade and wrinkles unfold

Off-grain fabric tells a different tale

Tailored frequencies need to be repaired

7 a.m. is when the station plays its sounds

Listening to the speaker while the patterns pin into place

Scissors separate the yellow from the white

Good morning, small-town listeners

Thimbles coat my fingers

Feed dogs are jamming up

The thread comes in tangles

I see such pretty things

FM comes in different colors, I believe

In the sewing machine, I've lost myself

Memories inside my heart are there to grieve

Color-coded by the love he gave to me

Ah, his voice, it speaks to me through the radio

Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board

Losing bobbins under tables, is it so?

Every day, it feels like seams are more than torn

Buttoned patchwork, thread that's tied in knots

Hand-sew everything with kind intention

Liquid sound waves pour from my eyes

My heart cries out to you in desperation

7 a.m. is when the station plays its sounds

Listening to the speaker while the patterns sew into place

Unmistakably, he'll return alive

His colors ought to show again

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in

Black and white, and black and white

And black and white, and black and white

No blue and green and yellow and red; the radio only plays in

FM comes in different colors, I believe

In the sewing machine, I've lost myself

Memories inside my heart are there to grieve

Color-coded by the love he gave to me

Ah, his voice, it speaks to me through the radio

Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board

Losing bobbins under tables, is it so?

Every day, it feels like seams are more than torn

Hey is it just me or are these lyrics kinda familiar?

[unbearable-lightness-of-ink]

i NEED to organise my craft room into something usable and I'm overwhelmed and the internet keeps offering me storage ideas that will become impossible to maintain the moment I take a single item out, or that involve mounting like seven hundred mason jars to my walls or hanging shit from the ceiling. help me out and tell me your best storage tips?

stuff I need to find a spot for includes

-bookbinding supplies (paper up to 12"x18", multiple rolls of bookcloth, endpaper, and mull, awls and threads and glues and bookboards, small book press, etc)

-general craft supplies (different types of glues, tapes, long straight edges, cut mats, right angle guides, paints, easel, brushes, inks, pencils, printer, paper cutter)

-sewing stuff (fabric, poly fill, scraps, threads, needles, pins, scissors, sewing machine, iron/ironing board, tape measures, patterns, dressmaker form, etc)

-fiber craft stuff (fiber, yarn, spinning wheels, drop spindles, knitting needles, crochet hooks, stitch markers, embroidery hoops and threads, bobbin lace bobbins and pillows and pins and threads, half finished cardigans...)

-random shop-type items like wood clamps, a mallet, wood stain, paintbrushes, etc.

and idk even what else. help.

[pulim-v]

bro why’s your music taste go so hard 😔😔😔 been listening to Housewife Radio and butcher vanity and self proclaimed angel on repeat. Especially that housewife radio. Black and white and black and white and black and white and

The animation meme of Housewife Radio inside my head is making me go crazy

Because:

Black: Fern

White: Agate

Blue: Mist

Green: Rowan

Yellow: Spark

Red: Via

FM comes in different colors I believe: Fern

In the sewing machine I lost myself: Spark

Memories inside my heart are there to grieve: MIST

Color coded by the love he gave to me: AGATE IT'S SO FUXKING AGATE

Ah his voice it speaks to me on the radio: Octavia

Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board: Rowan

Losing bobbins under tables is it so: Dew

Every day it feels like seams are more than torn: just the general Hibernation Arc fallout

[current-234]

Preparing Your Fall Wardrobe: Laundry and Ironing Essentials

As the leaves start to turn and the air grows crisp, it’s time to transition your wardrobe for the cooler months ahead. Fall is a season of cozy sweaters, stylish boots, and warm layers, but preparing your wardrobe for autumn isn’t just about pulling out your favorite clothes—it’s also about making sure they’re fresh, clean, and ready to wear. Here’s how you can prep your fall wardrobe with some simple laundry and ironing essentials, plus a recommendation for an excellent cleaning service in Nashville, Tennessee.

Step 1: Assess Your Fall Wardrobe

Before you start the cleaning process, go through your fall clothes. Pull out sweaters, scarves, coats, and other seasonal items that might have been in storage. Check for any signs of damage, such as moth holes, stains, or loose threads. Doing this upfront will save you time later and ensure you only focus on pieces you plan to wear.

Step 2: Laundry Basics for Fall Clothing

Fall fabrics like wool, flannel, and heavier cotton require a little extra care compared to lighter summer materials. Here’s how to handle them:

Sweaters:

Always check the care label before washing. Many wool or cashmere sweaters are best cleaned with a gentle detergent in cold water. Handwashing is ideal, but if you’re using a machine, choose the delicate cycle.

Scarves and Hats:

These often accumulate oils and sweat. Wash them with a mild detergent, and be sure to air dry to prevent shrinkage.

Denim and Corduroy:

Turn these inside out before washing to protect the fabric’s texture. Use a mild detergent and avoid high-heat drying to maintain their shape.

Outerwear:

Coats and jackets may need special treatment depending on their material. Wool coats, for instance, often require dry cleaning, while down jackets can usually be washed on a gentle cycle with a couple of tennis balls in the dryer to restore their fluff.

Step 3: Ironing Essentials for a Polished Look

Crisp and well-pressed clothes make all the difference. Here are some tips to keep your fall wardrobe looking sharp:

Iron Wool with Care: Use a pressing cloth or place a thin towel between the iron and the fabric to avoid shiny spots.

Steam Away Wrinkles: A handheld steamer is perfect for delicate materials like cashmere or blended fabrics that don’t respond well to direct heat.

Invest in the Right Ironing Tools: A sturdy ironing board and a high-quality iron with adjustable temperature settings can make the process easier and more effective.

Step 4: Simplify with Professional Help

Life gets busy, and not everyone has the time (or patience) to handle detailed laundry and ironing tasks. That’s where professional services like Maids on Duty come in. If you’re in Nashville, Tennessee, and looking for a reliable way to clean and press your fall wardrobe, Maids on Duty is your go-to service.

They specialize in laundry and ironing, ensuring that your clothes are treated with the utmost care. Whether you need delicate sweaters washed, your coats dry cleaned, or shirts impeccably pressed, their team delivers professional results every time. Plus, their efficient and friendly service allows you to focus on what matters most—enjoying the beautiful fall season.

Step 5: Store Your Clothes Properly

Once your clothes are clean and wrinkle-free, proper storage is key to maintaining their condition throughout the season:

Use Hangers for Coats and Jackets: Choose sturdy, wide hangers to maintain their shape.

Fold Sweaters: Hanging heavy knits can lead to stretching; fold them neatly instead.

Protect from Moths: Add cedar blocks or lavender sachets to your closets or drawers for natural moth repellent.

Embrace a Fresh Start This Fall

Prepping your wardrobe for fall doesn’t have to be a daunting task. With a little attention to laundry and ironing essentials, your clothes will be ready to help you shine all season long. And if the process feels overwhelming, don’t hesitate to reach out to professionals like Maids on Duty in Nashville. They’ll take care of your garments so you can focus on embracing the beauty of autumn in style.

[sweet-harpy-key]

Inktober 20: Housewife Radio by GHOST

FM comes in different colors, I believe / In the sewing machine, I've lost myself / Memories inside my heart are there to grieve / Color-coded by the love he gave to me / Ah, his voice, it speaks to me through the radio / Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board / Losing bobbins under tables, is it so? / Every day, it feels like seams are more than torn. / Buttoned patchwork, thread that's tied in knots / Hand-sew everything with kind intention / Liquid sound waves pour from my eyes / My heart cries out to you in desperation

Waaaaay down the rabbit hole I was in, I tried to be something I wasn't. Tried to be something that wasn't what my boyfriend wanted me to be, either. But I was in too deep to hear it. I thought he wanted a perfect little doll and I tried to be it, mish-mashing myself together from a hundred conflicting orders. It didn't work, obviously. Didn't mean I didn't try, and it didn't hurt us both.

[evelynjohn001]

How to Label Clothes for Sending Your Kid Off to Camp

Sending your kid off to camp can be an exciting yet nerve-wracking experience. Ensuring their belongings return home can be a challenge, especially when it comes to clothing. Proper labeling is key to minimizing the chances of lost items. Here’s a comprehensive guide on how to label clothes for camp effectively.

1. Choose the Right Labels

Types of Labels

Iron-On Labels: These are durable and withstand multiple washes. Simply iron them onto clothing tags or directly onto the fabric.

Sew-On Labels: Ideal for those who prefer a more permanent solution. Sew these onto the inside of garments.

Stick-On Labels: Quick and easy to apply, but may not last as long through multiple washes. Best for items that aren't frequently laundered.

Fabric Markers: A budget-friendly option, though not as durable. Use on clothing tags or directly on fabric.

2. Gather Your Supplies

Essentials

Labels of your choice (iron-on, sew-on, stick-on)

Fabric marker

Iron and ironing board (for iron-on labels)

Needle and thread (for sew-on labels)

Scissors

3. Prepare the Clothing

Pre-Washing

Wash all clothing items before labeling. This removes any sizing or chemicals that could affect the adhesion of iron-on or stick-on labels.

4. Applying Iron-On Labels

Step-by-Step Guide

Heat Your Iron: Set it to the temperature recommended by the label manufacturer, usually without steam.

Position the Label: Place the label on a clothing tag or directly on the fabric where it won’t cause irritation.

Cover with a Cloth: Place a thin cloth or parchment paper over the label to protect it.

Iron the Label: Press firmly for the recommended time, usually around 10-15 seconds.

Let It Cool: Allow the label to cool completely to ensure it adheres properly.

5. Applying Sew-On Labels

Step-by-Step Guide

Thread Your Needle: Choose a thread color that matches the label or the garment.

Position the Label: Place it on a clothing tag or inside the garment where it won’t be uncomfortable.

Sew Around the Edges: Use small, tight stitches to sew the label onto the garment securely.

Finish Off: Tie a knot to secure the thread and trim any excess.

6. Applying Stick-On Labels

Step-by-Step Guide

Clean the Surface: Ensure the area where you’re placing the label is clean and dry.

Peel and Stick: Remove the backing from the label and press firmly onto the fabric or clothing tag.

Smooth Out: Smooth out any bubbles or wrinkles for better adhesion.

7. Using Fabric Markers

Step-by-Step Guide

Choose the Right Spot: Pick a place that won’t irritate your child, like the clothing tag or an inside seam.

Write Clearly: Write your child’s name and any other necessary information clearly.

Let It Dry: Allow the ink to dry completely before wearing or washing.

8. Additional Tips

Include Contact Information: If space allows, include a phone number in case the item is lost.

Label Everything: Don’t just label clothes; label towels, bedding, and any other items your child is taking to camp.

Recheck Labels: Before packing, check that all labels are securely attached and legible.

9. Maintain an Inventory

Keep a List

Track Items: Make a list of all items your child is taking to camp and check them off when packing and unpacking. This helps in ensuring nothing is left behind.

Properly labeling your child's clothing for camp can save you from the hassle of lost items and ensure they have everything they need while enjoying their time away. Follow these steps for a stress-free camp preparation!

[somediyprojects]

DIY Brushstroke Upholstered Bench

Project by Mandy Pellegrin:

I love a good bedroom bench. It provides a nice little place to slip on shoes and can even serve as an extra spot to display art and books in a unique way. The only thing I’m crazier about than a bedroom bench is fabric. Any opportunity I have to include more fabric in a room is one I’m taking. Thankfully, the shape of our bedroom (which is actually a lofted attic) demanded that I create a custom piece to fit our non-standard wall sizes. Since I was already building the bench from scratch, I decided why not throw in some hand-painted fabric, too? This project combines the simplest approach to make your own upholstered bench with a modern brushstroke upholstery style that you can easily tackle yourself in a weekend. –Mandy Pellegrin

MATERIALS & TOOLS -white canvas -black fabric paint -wide paint brush(es) -a 2” x 12” wooden plank cut to your desired length -foam or quilt batting -spray adhesive -stapler -black fabric -4 – 18″ hairpin legs (source) -liquid gold gilding -screwdriver

Directions:

1. Begin with a piece of white canvas that is about 10″ larger than your bench board all the way around. Paint large, geometric shapes onto the canvas using a couple of wide paint brushes and black fabric paint. Don’t overload your brush with paint, and don’t overthink it. That’s the key to “effortless” brushstrokes. I added a few splatters as well. To do this, just dip the end of your brush in the paint, and fling it onto the fabric.

2. Wash, dry and iron the canvas to set the paint.

3. Cut a piece of thin foam or a few layers of quilt batting to the size of your bench board, and affix to the top of the board using spray adhesive.

4. Wrap and staple a piece of batting about the same size as your canvas around the board.

5. Wrap and staple the canvas around the board. Finish the ends like you’re wrapping a gift.

6. Hide all of your raw fabric edges by stapling a piece of black fabric to the bottom. Press the raw edges of the black fabric under before stapling into place.

7. Because I’m a sucker for gold/brass, I gave my hairpin legs a coat of liquid gilding. If you’re as dead-set on metallic legs as I was, you can also spring for a set of brass hairpin legs instead of painting them.

8. Finally, attach the hairpin legs to the underside of the bench using wood screws.

[milkcartoncatkid]

the radio only plays in

black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white

no blue and green and yellow and red

these aren’t the colors i should see

fm comes in different colors i believe

in the sewing machine i’ve lost myself

memories inside my heart are there to grieve

color coded by the love she gave to me

ah her voice it speaks to me through the radio

pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board

losing bobbins under tables is it so

every day it feels like

seams are more than torn

[illuminakisser]

Pressing spotted fabric on an ironing board

FM

COMES IN

DIFFERENT

C O L O U R S

I BELIEVE

[meirathinks]

you can tell something that sounds like it

Suguru Geto x reader.

warnings: it’s angst :(( maybe some grammar mistakes? 

geto has never lied to you. You tell yourself that he does. 

(based off the song happy news for sadness)

                                      ╬╬═════════════╬╬

He can never tell the truth.

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—

At least, that’s what you told yourself. You'd repeat it over and over, the sick mantra failing to provide any sort of comfort. The dread had slithered from the end of your tongue to the base of your throat and finally cemented itself behind your ribcage: snuggly against your heart.

I.

At first, Geto's presence was warm. His fingertips would dance along your jawline after particularly draining missions, butterfly kisses and the soft flutter of your pulse would follow shortly after. You would look at him with so much endearment. Doe eyes casting a hazy look in his direction while he continued to exchange soft touches for attention.

It was springtime; the nights were supposed to be frosted over. But, as your eyesight shifted from the condensation on the window accentuated by the soft glow of the lamp in Suguru's dorm, you noticed that you'd trade anything to forever feel the way you're feeling now. Geto held himself in a unique way, he was strong, but it differed from Gojo's arrogance. Geto was one of the strongest but he hardly paraded that fact; he instead used that fact to make you feel safe.

You hummed against his throat at the thought, Geto is your protector.

He breathed into your forehead pressing phantom kisses into your skin while sitting on his bed with you. You leaned into his chest while recovering from the latest mission, civilians were injured but none were killed. Still, Geto was ashamed that non-sorcerers had to be involved in such dangerous affairs in the first place.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

He moved to tug tightly at your hair, urging you to look up at him. His slightly swollen lips parted and shut as if looking for the appropriate thing to say. Geto relented, choosing to ignore the seeds of doubt threatening to be sown.

"You know, I won't let anyone hurt you." His calloused hand moved to squeeze your arm, the condensation dripped down the window.

Suguru is strong. He is your protector.

II.

Geto left. And all that replaced him was the wide-eyed gaze only piteous adults knew. Gentle squeezes on your shoulder and whispering that followed wherever you went.

You were ashamed. His promises that had once left you satisfied had proven to be hollow. His righteousness never wavered.

A voice had tugged at the corner of your mind the day you heard of what had happened in the village. Geto was good, he wanted to see people safe; if you had the chance to confront him you knew he wouldn’t change. 

The drip, drip, drip, of your bathroom faucet, prompted you to focus on your reflection above the sink. Hot tears made their way down your cheeks, laboured breaths reverberated in the small space.

Geto would hug you, he'd tell you everything was okay.

Then he'd say he'd protect you.

You smiled at the thought of his domesticity, imagining his hand holding yours, missing the way his thumb would draw circles on the back of your hand.

The faucet continued to drip as you met your own gaze once again.

Dread filled your lungs

Geto killed 100s of people.

Geto always lies.

III.

There was a sharp pound at your door; hollow and calculated. Confusion invaded your senses, today was your day off, no one came to visit you anymore.

Nostalgia racked your body. Back in high school, your dorm was always unlocked, a sort of safe space for your classmates to come and go. Jujutsu tech was a warzone plagued with hopeless violence and your room seemed to be representative of the humanity of your colleagues. Neutral, kind, loving.

Gojo never knocked.

Shoko knocked three times.

And Geto was always four.

Another knock could be heard at your door.

You laughed at yourself for the little piece of hope you had felt. At the fact that you longed to see a murderer again. Maybe it would be Gojo instead? Willfully eating a candy bar while he waited impatiently outside the door of your home.

But Gojo never knocks.

A pounding could be heard at your door once more.

Your spirits lifted— Shoko had come to visit! You had missed her presence and humour, in a way, her spiral was worse than Geto’s. Everyone was convinced that the dark circles under her eyes were going to become a long-term predicament. But, when confronted about her exhaustiveness, a half-drunk Ieiri would always comment on how she was too busy to rest. Nonetheless, Shoko was the only other sorcerer who knew your address.

But no one ever visits.

One more knock.

Your blood ran cold, leaving an icy residue in your veins, your heart was beating in your throat. The absence of the knock hung in the air, your anxiety, your insecurity, your deep-rooted hope that he'd come back to explain had buzzed in its place.

You got up to walk to your door, as your hand lifted to unlock it, you waited.

Just one more. I need to prove it.

Suguru knocked one final time, you opened it as quickly as he expected you would. You wanted him to see the shame that ran deep in your eyes. Though, you hadn't felt the way that you were required to feel as a jujutsu sorcerer.

He met your gaze. You felt your heartbeat hiccup. Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt some sort of emotion bubble up at the base of your chest. Fear, disgust, hope.

"It's been 4 years, Geto."

Suguru grinned softly, a shiny film had covered his eyes. He took a gentle breath.

"Have I mentioned how I've thought about you every day for four years?"

IV.

In his final days at Jujutsu Tech, Geto was a shell of himself. Though he'd always eat the food you presented him in an attempt to curb your worries, you knew his appetite ran thin when he was left to his own devices.

Now, as he stood in your home's kitchen expertly cooking dinner for the both of you for what seemed the umpteenth time, you noticed how much he looked like himself. His hair was as gorgeous as ever (though admittedly longer), he still closed his eyes when he smiled, he still ran his thumb against the back of your hand when he held it.

Yet, he seemed so much happier.

At first, this had prompted anger. Someone like him didn't deserve to feel the joy he displayed.

Geto was a criminal, after all.

The hands of a criminal would cup your cheek and run up and down your back. His criminal voice would hum soft tunes to you in between philosophical conversations in the later hours of the night. His criminal eyes would cast the softest, most loving gaze in your direction. Geto's criminal, cold-blooded, self would whisper I love you over and over again into the crook of your neck until he fell asleep.

And you allowed him to.

You allowed him to look at the civilians with a horrifying disgust, one that sharply contrasted with his previous drive to protect everyone. You watched as his endearing expression would turn to a scowl whenever he talked about them. He'd use a distasteful nickname for non-sorcerers.

"Dirty Monkeys."

You had made sure your voice had matched the iciness of his own as you responded, "Don't use that phrase near me again."

He made a clear effort to exclude all ideological rhetoric from your conversations soon after.

The same voice that pestered you that there was still hope for Suguru had turned against him. It was ironic more than anything, the both of you could never win this sick and twisted game.

The slam of a knife against a chopping board had woken you up from your daydream. You looked up. Eyes scanning the figure of the criminal you had come to love. It was an illicit romance, one between a Jujutsu sorcerer and a cursed user. A romance between two people with differing beliefs.

You took a deep breath, the knife on the chopping board slowed as Getou turned to look at you. His brows were furrowed.

"Is everything okay?"

Your lips formed a tight-lipped smile, tears brimmed your eyes as you looked up to his face from your spot on the kitchen counter.

"Suguru," you swallowed, "we were never supposed to last this long, you know."

You watched his throat bob.

"I'm well aware."

You smiled up at him, a genuine one, twinged with melancholy, "Then you'll understand why I'm asking you to leave."

He nodded silently inching closer to your sitting figure. His hot breath tickled your face, testing the waters. You didn't know what to expect out of the kiss at this moment Maybe rough? Like the late nights you'd spend together after he practically barrelled through the front door, fuming about the day he had just had. Or passionate? You imagined a kiss with sloppy whispers and late apologies said in between the moments you took to catch your breath.

He grabbed your chin in his pointer finger and thumb, he urged your teary eyes to look into his. His lips met yours and he was not passionate, nor was he rough. You didn't see stars, you only felt him.

Geto was soft.

He pulled away, his eyes avoided your own as he breathed softly while taking in your figure one last time.

A sigh could be heard while he moved to the coat rack near your front door. You continued to sit stupidly on the kitchen counter, watching the abandoned knife and vegetables lay limp against the wood of the chopping board.

You heard the shifting of fabric as Geto maneuvered his coat on, "Call me if you need anything."

Suguru's eyes were downcast as he continued, "I love you."

You felt your throat go dry as it bobbed; Suguru closed the door as softly as he could on his way out.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

You never called him.

V.

Gojo leaned against the wall of the hallways in Jujutsu tech, as he awaited your response.

He quickly grew impatient.

"I said I killed him." You hummed in response, you'd like to imagine that you looked indifferent. You wouldn't let yourself cry, not in front of Gojo, not because of Suguru.

"He had it coming." You willed yourself to say.

As you turned to continue your journey down the hallway, Gojo beckoned you to turn around with a scoff.

"One more thing," He lifted his blindfold to meet your eyes.

"He told me he loved you."

You let out a dry laugh, your fingernails were digging crescents into your palms, "Of course he did."

You walked down the empty hallway, leaving Gojo to his own thoughts. Heavy breaths could be heard as you attempted to calm yourself down. Why would Geto say that?

Then you remembered.

He can never tell the truth.

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—