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#Bag printing machine
bagprinters · 2 years
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Earlier, the carry bags just served the purpose of carrying stuff and were a one-way thing but now, thanks to the bag printing machine, carry bags can be printed with some cool logos or a tagline which helps in marketing the brand or the store.Visit my blog for more info:
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decentprintlines · 1 month
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Uses and Functions of Non Woven Bag Printing Machine
Introduction
In recent years, the global movement towards sustainability and eco-consciousness has spurred a significant shift in consumer behavior and industrial practices. As businesses strive to reduce their environmental footprint, the demand for eco-friendly alternatives to traditional plastic bags has surged. Enter non-woven bags — lightweight, durable, and reusable alternatives that have gained widespread popularity. At the heart of this eco-friendly revolution lies the non-woven bag printing machine, a marvel of modern engineering that enables the mass production of customized, environmentally responsible bags. Let’s delve deeper into the efficiency and functionality of these innovative machines.
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The Rise of Non-Woven Bags
Non-woven bags are crafted from synthetic or natural fibers bonded together through a mechanical, thermal, or chemical process — without the need for weaving. This manufacturing method results in bags that are strong, tear-resistant, and capable of carrying heavy loads. Moreover, non-woven bags are reusable, recyclable, and biodegradable, making them a sustainable choice for environmentally conscious consumers and businesses alike.
Advantages of Non-Woven Bag Printing Machines
Customization: Non-woven bag printing machines offer unparalleled flexibility, allowing businesses to create bespoke designs and branding solutions tailored to their unique requirements.
Speed and Efficiency: With rapid printing capabilities and automated processes, these machines enable high-volume production without compromising on quality or accuracy.
Cost-Effectiveness: By streamlining production workflows and minimizing material waste, non-woven bag printing machines help businesses optimize their operational costs and maximize profitability.
Environmental Sustainability: By facilitating the production of reusable and recyclable non-woven bags, these machines support sustainability initiatives and contribute to the reduction of plastic waste.
Non-woven bag printing machines are the unsung heroes of modern manufacturing, offering a multitude of uses and functions in various industries.
Functions of Non Woven Bag Printing Machine
Customization Made Easy
These machines empower businesses to personalize non-woven bags with logos, designs, and messages, enhancing brand visibility and communication.
Promotional Powerhouses
Ideal for creating branded merchandise, custom-printed non-woven bags serve as effective promotional tools at trade shows, events, and marketing campaigns.
Sustainable Packaging Solutions
In retail, these machines help elevate packaging by customizing non-woven bags with brand aesthetics, product showcases, and eco-friendly messaging.
Memorable Event Souvenirs
From conferences to weddings, custom-printed non-woven bags make practical and memorable giveaways, leaving a lasting impression on attendees.
Environmental Advocacy
By enabling the production of reusable and recyclable bags, these machines contribute to environmental sustainability efforts, promoting eco-conscious consumption.
In essence, non-woven bag printing machines are more than just production tools — they’re enablers of creativity, sustainability, and brand empowerment in a rapidly evolving world.
Best Non Woven Bag Printing Machine Companies in India
If you are looking for a Best Non Woven Bag Printing Machine in India, then look no further than Decent Print Line. Decent prinline is a leading manufacturer and supplier of non woven bag printing machine in India.
For more details, please contact us!
Website — https://www.decentprintline.com/
Contact — +91–9911433180
Address — Plot №4, Gali №1, Rao Colony, Sihi Gate, Faridabad, Ballabgarh — 121004, Haryana, India
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machineintorudce · 2 years
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Single color carousel screen printing machine
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sakshikaribykriti · 2 months
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Women's mobile sling bag - Mobile cross body bag
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Easy and ready to go, our mobile bags make for great gifts to every one old and young. These are spacious enough for a phone, cash, keys and a little something. The light weight slide sling makes it easy on the shoulders while you take a walk. The straps are broad to give enough support.
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baskicimizcom · 5 months
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Cafe Restoran Ürünleri Nedir?
Promosyon cafe restoran ürünleri, işletmelerin marka bilinirliğini artırmak, müşteri sadakatini güçlendirmek ve yeni müşteriler çekmek için tasarladığı ve logolarını, marka adlarını veya diğer işletme bilgilerini içeren özel ürünlerdir.
Bu tür ürünler, bir restoran veya kafenin menüsünde yer alan ürünlerin yanı sıra, işletme tarafından sunulan hizmetlerin de bir parçası olabilir. Örneğin, özel olarak tasarlanmış bir kahve fincanı veya restoran logolu bir t-shirt, promosyon ürünleri arasında yer alabilir.
Promosyon ürünleri özel günler, kutlamalar veya müşteri sadakat programları çerçevesinde müşterilere sunulur. Ayrıca, restoran ve cafeler sıklıkla bu tür ürünleri sosyal medya yarışmalarında ödül olarak da kullanabilir.
Cafe Restoran Ürünleri Müşteri Gözünde Etkisi Nedir?
Promosyon ürünlerinin müşteriler üzerinde önemli bir etkisi vardır. Bu etki birkaç farklı biçimde ortaya çıkabilir:
Marka Bilinirliğinin Artırılması: Promosyon ürünleri, markanın adını, logosunu ve diğer işletme bilgilerini geniş bir kitleye ulaştırma fırsatı sunar. Bu, marka bilinirliğinin artmasına ve dolayısıyla daha geniş bir müşteri kitlesi çekmeye yardımcı olabilir.
Müşteri Sadakatinin Güçlendirilmesi: Promosyon ürünlerini alan müşteriler, işletmeye daha bağlı hisseder. Bu ürünler, müşterilerin işletmeyi olumlu bir şekilde anımsamasına yardımcı olabilir ve böylece müşteri sadakatini artırabilir.
Yeni Müşterilerin Kazanılması: Özellikle sosyal medya platformlarında gerçekleştirilen promosyonlar, geniş kitlelere ulaşabilir. Böylelikle yeni müşterilerin dikkatini çekebilir ve işletmeye yeni müşteriler kazandırabilir.
Cafe Restoran Ürünleri Baskı Fiyatları
Promosyon ürünlerinin baskı fiyatları, seçilen ürünün türüne, ürünün kalitesine, baskının karmaşıklığına ve siparişin miktarına bağlı olarak değişir. Basit bir logo veya marka adı baskısı daha uygun maliyetlidir, ancak daha karmaşık veya renkli baskılar maliyeti artırabilir.
Birçok promosyon ürün sağlayıcısı, siparişin miktarına göre indirim sunar. Yani, daha büyük bir sipariş birim başına daha düşük bir maliyet anlamına gelir. Bu nedenle, baskı fiyatları hakkında daha kesin bir bilgi almak için, belirli bir siparişin detayları ile promosyon ürün sağlayıcısına başvurmak en iyisi olacaktır.
Sonuç olarak, promosyon cafe restoran ürünleri, bir işletmenin marka bilinirliğini artırmak, müşteri sadakatini güçlendirmek ve yeni müşteriler kazanmak için etkili bir yol olabilir. Bu ürünler, hem işletmeyi hem de müşterileri memnun etmek için kullanılabilecek geniş bir yelpazede mevcuttur. Dolayısıyla, promosyon ürünlerini stratejik bir şekilde kullanmak, bir restoran veya kafenin başarısında önemli bir rol oynayabilir.
Cafe Restoran Ürünleri Baskı Çeşitleri Nelerdir?
Promosyon ürünleri birçok farklı biçimde ve baskı türüyle üretilebilir. Bu baskı çeşitlerinin seçimi, ürünün türüne, kullanım amacına ve bütçeye bağlıdır. İşte promosyon cafe restoran ürünleri için yaygın olarak kullanılan baskı çeşitleri:
Dijital Baskı: Dijital baskı, karmaşık tasarımlar ve renkli görseller için kullanılır. Bu baskı türü, yüksek çözünürlüklü detaylı görseller için idealdir.
Serigrafi Baskı: Serigrafi, tekstil ürünlerine (örneğin, T-shirtler, şapkalar) uygulanır. Bu yöntem, bir baskı ekranı kullanarak mürekkebin doğrudan ürüne geçirilmesini içerir.
Pad Baskı: Küçük ve düz olmayan nesneler üzerine baskı yapmak için kullanılır. Örneğin, kalem, anahtarlık gibi ürünlerde sıklıkla tercih edilir.
Lazer Gravür: Çoğunlukla metal ve ahşap ürünler için kullanılır. Bu yöntem, ürünün yüzeyine lazer ile işaretleme yapar ve kalıcı, aşınmaya dayanıklı bir sonuç verir.
Tampon baskı: Plastik ürünler üzerine uygulanan bu baskı türü, hızlı ve etkilidir.
Cafe Menülerin Tasarımlarında Neler Olmalıdır?
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Cafe restoranlar için promosyon menüler özel günlerde veya belirli bir süre boyunca sunulan, çeşitli yiyecek ve içecek seçeneklerini içerir. Promosyon menülerin oluşturulmasında dikkate alınması gereken noktalar şunlardır:
Müşteri Tercihleri: Menü, müşterilerin tercihlerini yansıtmalı ve geniş bir yelpazede seçenekler sunmalıdır. Bunlar arasında farklı diyet gereksinimlerine uygun seçenekler de olabilir (örneğin, vegan veya glütensiz seçenekler).
Sezonsallık: Mevsimsel ürünlerin kullanılması, hem tazelik ve kalite açısından hem de müşterilerin ilgisini çekebilmek açısından önemlidir.
Fiyatlandırma: Promosyon menüler müşterilere bir değer teklifi sunar. Bu nedenle, fiyatlandırma stratejisi dikkatlice belirlenmelidir.
Özel Teklifler: Promosyon menülerde bir veya daha fazla özel teklif bulunur. Bu, bir “2 al 1 öde” teklifi olabilir, veya belirli bir yiyecek veya içecek siparişi ile birlikte indirimli bir ürün olabilir.
Menü Tasarımları Yaparken Nelere Dikkat Edilmelidir?
Promosyon menü baskı tasarımı, işletmenin imajını ve kalitesini yansıtmalıdır. İşte promosyon menü tasarımları yaparken dikkate alınması gereken bazı noktalar:
Marka Uyumu: Tasarım, işletmenin genel marka kimliği ve renk paleti ile uyumlu olmalıdır. Bu, işletmenin tanınabilirliğini artırır ve marka bilinirliğini güçlendirir.
Okunabilirlik: Menünün okunması kolay olmalıdır. Font seçimi, renkler ve metin yerleşimi, müşterinin menüyü rahatça okuyabilmesini sağlamalıdır.
Görsel Çekicilik: Menü tasarımının görsel olarak çekici olması gerekir. Kaliteli fotoğraflar ve çekici grafikler, müşterilerin dikkatini çekebilir ve onların sipariş verme olasılığını artırabilir.
Müşteri Yolculuğu: Menü, müşteriyi en çok kar sağlayacak ürünlere yönlendirecek şekilde düzenlenmelidir. Örneğin, en karlı ürünler menünün üstünde veya ortasında yer alır.
Promosyon cafe restoran ürünleri ve menüler, işletmenin marka bilinirliğini artırabilir, müşteri sadakatini güçlendirebilir ve yeni müşterileri çekebilir. Bu nedenle, bu araçları stratejik ve etkili bir şekilde kullanmak, işletmenin başarısını artırabilir.
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laxmienterprises · 6 months
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Fully Automatic Non Woven Paper bag Making Machine-Laxmi Enterprises
Fully Automatic Non Woven Carry bag Making Machine - International Traders Channel - #LaxmiEnterprises #Fully Automatic Non Woven Fully #Automatic Non Woven Carry bag Making Machine Non Woven Carry bag #Making #Machine Fully Automatic Non Woven #NonWoven #Youtube
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autoprint · 9 months
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dejablonde · 1 year
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Y'know how the young folks have been fawning over the shit we wore in like 2008-2010 and those of us who were there in the trenches have all been telling them to commit to the bit? Well this just came up in my Facebook memories and uh
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Why did we think looking like a color wheel was okay?
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decentprintline · 1 year
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When choosing a poly bag printing machine, it is essential to consider the printing volume, printing speed, printing quality, and other features such as automation and digital integration. It is also important to research and compare different manufacturers and models, read reviews and customer feedback, and consult with experts in the field to find the best option for your specific needs.
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bagprinters · 2 years
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A bag is a necessity in almost everyone’s life, regardless of the age and the occupation of the person as carrying things alongside is what everyone has to take care of, and therefore, using a bag becomes mandatory. Here is a complete guide to bag printing and the equipment required for it. Using a bag printing machine to print logos, taglines, or kinds of text or images helps in increasing the brand presence and also to attract more customers. Custom bag printing machines are used for conducting the process.
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ronaldint999 · 2 years
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Ronald is the leading manufacturer of web offset printing machines, paper bag making machines, books printing machine, flexograhic printing machines, etc. Get the best price today!
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mavrintarou · 3 months
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[11:16 PM] Sakusa Kiyoomi
It's been a while since I last posted about Omi-Omi. Happy (belated) Valentine's Day!
Warning: mild angst but reconciled and happy smut (18+)
.
Kiyoomi set his gym bag in the usual spot of his apartment. Tonight, his home felt unusually cold and empty.
Switching the lights on, he is met with two floating balloons and a bag with red and pink hearts printed all over it.
He let out a chuckle and grabbed the bag, pulling out the tissue paper that was stuffed inside. He found all sorts of chocolate inside, his favorite chocolates.
Happy Valentine’s Day, jerk.
Y/n
Kiyoomi released a deep sigh. He and Y/n had gotten into an argument two nights ago, he couldn’t even remember what it was about. But it was 48 hours of silence from Y/n, 48 hours of emptiness.
The phone line rang repeatedly until it went to her voicemail.
He’s sent her three texts and they were left unread.
“C’mon…” he whispered, pacing around his place. “Pick up, please…”
A click came from the other line and he exhaled, “Y/n, thank goodness, where – “
“Hi, this isn’t Y/n but I’m her coworker!”
Kiyoomi frowned, and growled, “where is Y/n?”
“We are at a company dinner and she’s here… a little intoxicated…”
Kiyoomi could hear mumblings in the background, “… who is it…”
“Where are you guys?” he asked, heading to the shoe rack to put his shoes on.
He heard muffling but couldn’t hear clearly.
“… don’t tell him where I am…”
“… he’s mean and I don’t – I don’t wanna see him right now…”
His heart dropped.
“Hi, hello? Are you still there? Omi? Is this Omi with a white heart emoji next to your name? The Omi that is mean?”
“Yes,” Kiyoomi answered defeatedly, “this is Omi.”
“Look,” whoever this person on the other line whispered, “she keeps saying you are mean and she doesn’t want to see you but I secretly know she does, women to women, she wants to see you… we’re… we’re at the XXXX restaurant.” She paused before whispering loudly, “come get your girl!”
.
Kiyoomi’s strides were only half their usual length, and he inserted a two-second pause between each step. Y/n, with a gloomy mood, followed four feet behind him.
Arriving at the restaurant, he discovered her sitting sadly at the end of the table, all alone. Her colleagues were accompanied by their partners, but Y/n was left by herself. Kiyoomi felt a lump of guilt in his throat; he should have been there with her.
Their most recent argument stemmed from this issue. Y/n had requested him to cut short his training if possible for one night, but he declined, emphasizing the priority of his training.
“I’m simply asking if you could leave an hour earlier, or even thirty minutes early to make it to dinner, if it’s feasible. Can you not even manage that?” Her voice was tinged with angst.
“No, you understand how important my training is. I can’t simply leave early for something like this.”
Something like this…
Now, he felt the full weight of guilt engulfing him.
He halted and glanced back, noticing that Y/n had also come to a stop, gazing into the distance. Following her gaze, he spotted a small shop with claw and capsule machines.
He is reminded of his snarky comment about her liking such stupid things.
Walking up to her, he waited until she looked at him. “Let’s go,” he said jerking his head towards the shop.
Her cheeks were still rosy from the alcohol, her eyes weren’t as lively as they should be. “No,” she grumbles, looking away with a pout. “It’s just stupid stuff,” she attempted to walk around him when he caught her wrist and began tugging her towards the store. “What are you doing?”
He ignores her question and tugs her gently along until they get to the change machine. Stuffing a few bills inside to exchange for tokens. “What would you like?”
She looked at the handful of tokens and then his eyes, and with a weary tone she asked, “why are you doing this?”
“Because you like it and it makes you happy,” his tone is gentle and careful, “and I want to see you happy.” He puts a handful of tokens in her palm. “Go, show me what makes you happy.”
Still pouty, she closed her fingers around the token and walked around him.
Kiyoomi smiled to himself, knowing deep down she was excited.
.
“Are you satisfied with your wins?” He stared at the bag full of plushies and capsule toys.
Y/n nodded, restraining a bright smile on her lips. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Seizing the opportunity, Kiyoomi extended his left hand, asking, “can you hold my hand?” He let out a quite breath when she placed her palm in his. They walked side by side in silence.
“Where are we going?” she asked quietly.
“Let’s go grab some junk food at 7/11 and... my place?” He prayed she would come over but instead, she looked at him as if he had two heads. Chuckling, he knew why she was looking at him weirdly. He was completely against eating any junk food, let alone anything from a convenience store. “A little junk food won’t kill me.”
“It might make you sick though?”
“Shh, don’t jinx me like that.”
.
Sure enough, it did make him feel sick.
All he ate was a cup of instant ramen, and within less than an hour, he started experiencing stomach churning.
“I told you,” Y/n scolded, yet concern was written all over her face. She quickly ushered him to lie down on the couch.
If it meant for Y/n to nurse him and show him affection again, the stomach ache was worth it.
He groaned, “it hurts…”
Digging through her purse, she tried to look for her pill box. “Here, take this medication. It’ll help with the tummy ache.”
He accepted the small pill and popped it into his mouth, taking it down with water. He grabbed her hand, “rub my tummy like you did that one time.”
Y/n hesitated, staring at him suspiciously before reaching to push his shirt up to reveal his abdomen. She ignored the ripples of muscles and put pressure on a certain area of his body.
Kiyoomi groaned, feeling instant relief.
She reached for his hand and placed it with hers, “when you have a tummy ache, always press this pressure point.”
She was about to stand up when he stopped her. Panicking he asked, “wait, where are you going?”
“I’m just going to make you some rice soup.”
He still pouted, watching her walk away to his kitchen.
A few minutes later, she returned with a bowl of steaming contents. “Bland, just the way you like it,” she mentioned, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. “How is your stomach feeling?”
“It’ll feel a lot better if you do it…”
Y/n scoffed and slapped his hand away, “you’re such a baby.”
“Correction, I’m your baby…”
Y/n narrowed her eyes at him, “who are you and what have you done to Kiyoomi?”
Kiyoomi’s lips turned downwards. “Omi…” he corrected quietly. When she doesn’t respond he bites his lips nervously. “I’m sorry.”
Her brow raised, and she looked at him as if she didn’t comprehend what he was saying.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, louder this time. “I have been a jerk and insensitive to you… I have not been compromising and mean to you and I’m sorry,” he bowed his head. “I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore. I’ll do better, I promise. Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked at his last part of his sentence.
“Leave you? Who said I was leaving you?”
“But you didn’t want to see me?”
Y/n frowned, confused. “When did I say that?”
“Earlier on the phone, I heard you telling your coworker that you didn’t want to see me…” very quietly he added, “that hurt my feelings.” He felt childish but he wanted to be honest.
“I didn’t want to see you is very different from I’m leaving you,” Y/n clarified. She sighed, running a hand through her hair before reaching for the bowl of soup. She blew to cool the spoonful of soup before bringing it to his mouth. “I said that I didn’t want to see you because I knew I would give in and forgive you.”
He swallows the soup before asking, “please forgive me?”
“I saw your face so I already forgave you.”
He couldn’t ignore the cheering in his mind. “Do you really mean it? You forgive me for being a jerk?”
“Yes, you jerk.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“But you called yourself that too?” Y/n countered, shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth. “Eat and feel better.”
Kiyoomi smiles, “… kiss me, that would really make me feel better.”
The corner of her lips tugged upward, “you sly jerk…”
He sits up, bringing his face close to hers. “Please, a kiss?”
She pecks his lips.
He pouted, “that’s not a kiss.”
“Yes it is, my lips touched yours.”
He blinked and then frowned, “that was hardly a kiss…”
Y/n raised a brow, challenging him, “then what’s a kiss to you then?”
And he showed her.
He cupped her face, tilting it before pressing his lips against hers. As soon as she gasped, he slipped his tongue in, meeting hers in a tango.
“Omi…” Y/n breathed, pushing him away to catch a breath.
His lips continued to her jaw and down her neck. “Please Y/n…” he begged, tugging at her tucked-in dress shirt. He pulls away and looks at her with dark pupils, waiting for her consent.
She launched at him, knocking him onto his back once more. Her mouth moved hungrily against his as she tugged at his clothes.
“I’m not going anywhere…” he chuckled.
“You will be if you don’t take help take our clothes off…”
Their clothes lay carelessly on the ground seconds later.
Y/n raised herself and straddled his lap. She rocked her hips, gliding her pussy along the length of his cock.
Kiyoomi hissed loudly as his hands gripped her hip tightly, nails digging into her hip bone. “Don’t –“ he choked, “don’t tease me…” He didn’t miss the smirk on her lips.
Having enough of not being inside of her already, Kiyoomi flipped them and shifted her underneath him. His hand found one of hers and threaded their fingers together, clasping tightly. He searched her eyes and she answered by lifting her hips.
“Haa, you’re going to be the death of me,” he sank his cock into her sweet pussy.
He waited a few seconds, savoring the intimate bond. Kiyoomi peers down at her before pressing his forehead against hers and without breaking eye contact, he whispers, “I love you.”
He doesn’t express those three words as frequently as he ought to, but he can observe the way her eyes illuminate when he does. “I love you, Y/n…” he repeated, rocking his hips slowly but deeply. “I know I don’t say it often enough for you but you are my everything… and I never want to be without you again…”
Y/n released a soft whimper and cupped his face, connecting their lips. “I love you too, Omi…”
It was soft lovemaking.
Each rock of his hips was gentle with care, with love.
“Let’s cum together?”
Y/n nodded, tightening her arms around his shoulders and soon their bodies trembled in release.
Kiyoomi pulls Y/n up and they sit down, still connected very intimately. He reached for the bag of chocolate, took a piece, and unwrapped it before placing it into her mouth. Then, he helped himself to a piece as well.
“Thank you for the chocolate,” he murmurs.
Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Omi.”
. . .
E/n: Going back to Teo now...
>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
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hecateslore · 4 months
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💌
supervisor!Simon
Monday you stood outside of Simon’s office, hesitant to knock on the door, no response from your best friends manager all weekend, you were starting to lose hope in your escape. Now you have to postpone your whole plan. You thought you had everything in the bag. Simon has something to do with this, you swear. He did some kind of Supervisor black magic. Knocking twice on his door you twist the knob and let yourself in. 
“Can I help you?” He said not looking up from his screen. “Possibly,” you respond. 
Simon looks up, squinting his eyes, “What'd Ya need?” Simon answered clearly annoyed by your presence, assuming this was your official “break-up” statement. “I don’t think I’ll be leaving anytime soon.” you bit your lip, trying to conceal any embarrassment that was evident on your face. “Lemme guess, Johnny's got you hooked?” Simon snickered. 
“Uh, no?”  you say watching Simon’s large frame get up from his chair. “No? Why the uncertainty? ” Simon's brow quirks up, “Personal stuff.” you mumble, “So you’re not quitting.” Simon assured himself. “That’s why I’m here right?” you sigh. 
“How’s Johnny, with all this?” Simon asks, waving around the freshly printed papers he got from the machine. “He’s good, a quick learner.” You gush about the blue eyed man, Simon was quick to notice, “I take it you enjoy his company?” Simon sat back down. “He’s a cool guy.” you hum, “A cool guy…hm.” Simon nods, rocking his chair, “Anything else?” he asks and you shake your head no. You walk out of his office, surprised he didn’t flip out and cause a scene. Walking back to your desk, Johnny sat across from Linda, who sits one desk behind you, he gives you a small wave, causing a small smile to form on your lips. 
An email notification pop on the corner of your screen, 
Subject: “cool guy”
Maybe you could give Cool Guy a highlighted section of the handbook. 
Best, 
S.R.
-
“Wanna grab lunch?”  you look up from your screen and there he was, standing at the side of your desk, “I got like 10 more minutes.” You say. “I can wait.” He offered, shoving his hands into his pockets. You think about it for a second, and wave Simon’s email out of your mind. 
“What’s an early lunch?” you shrug as you clock out for your break. You grab your bag and say a silent prayer hoping Simon won’t notice the ten minute difference. “What’s around here?” Johnny asks, opening the door for you, “I like to go to the supermarket.” You pause remembering the last time you were at the supermarket, “Or a coffee shop, something quick.” you reply. Johnny just nods, “I noticed your accent,” Johnny chuckles at your observation, “I noticed yours too.” He smirked (SCOTLAND FOREVAAAAAAAAAA). You suppress a screech, my god is he attractive. “Where’re you from?” you ask, “Scotland.” he answers, “ahh '' you nod.  
You both walked in silence, it was kind of awkward. Last time you had a companion on this little field trip, he was trying very hard to make conversation. “You were in the Military?” you try to break the silence, “Uh yeah.” he responds, “What was that like?” you prod. “It was the military.” he jokes, avoiding the question, “You ever kill anyone?” He looks at you with wide eyes, “Sorry I just had to ask.” You blurt out, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle up, “you’re fine.” he waves off your worry, “Do you think I did?”  he questioned, “maybe, who knows.” you say in a sing-song voice. 
-
You hit up the deli in the grocery store, ordering the usual. You and Jonny watch as the elder man assembles your sandwiches, “I like your shoes.” You look down at your feet, “thanks I just bought them at the thrift store.”  you beam. “You got a thing for feet?” You say and  the older man looks up from your sandwich with a face of disgust, only for Johnny to let out a loud cackle. 
You both settle outside, eating your lunches, chatting, goofing around. “Are you still leaving?” Johnny balls up the wax paper that held his sandwich together. “Doesn’t look like it these days.” you take a sip from your drink. “Why’s that?” Johnny wonders, “I haven’t heard anything since last week.” you say wearily. “Which is kind of a sign, but I just want to get out of here.” You sigh. 
Johnny frowns, “He’s that bad?” you bite your cheek, is he really that bad? Yes. No.  “Sometimes he’s nice.” you mention. “One time he bought me a Snapple from the vending machine cause I didn’t have cash.” Johnny lets out a snort, “Whatta Gentleman.” he rubs his thighs, “Maybe we should get going.” he nods you along. 
-
You both walk into the office giggling into each other, small laughs catching the attention from the people around you. Entering the back of the office, Simon stood outside his office door arms crossed and pissed off. “You have your fun?” He scowled. You and Johnny look at each other,
“Simon we were-” Johnny started but was quickly cut off, “You're both 15 minutes late, and you,” Simon looks directly at you, “ We’re having a discussion later. Johnny in my office, now.” 
-
You finished all your work and sat with your hands in your mouth, biting your nails from the anxiety. It felt like there was a dark cast around Simon’s door. You could hear his voice from the other side of the door, occasionally you would look around the room and see everyone  trying to make out the conversation. 
Eventually the door opened and Johnny walked out, heading straight for his desk. Not a glance your way. Simon stood in the doorway, making a come hither motion at you, that sort of turned you on but you ignore it. You swallow the lump in your throat and walk towards the looming office. 
-
“Sit.” He pointed at the chair, and that lump returned. Simon leaned his body on the desk before you. His eyes focused on you, you both sit in silence. That nervous pit still not leaving as Simon looks down at you, “You know why you’re here.” Simon scolded, “I didn’t mean-” Simon holds up a finger, you shut your mouth in a thin line.“I saw you take lunch 10 minutes earlier,” he adds.“ You had a 10 minute head start, and an extra 15 minutes.” Amber eyes looking into yours. 
“I gave you the responsibility to train him, to teach him and you blew it off.” Simon exclaimed, “Why do you disappoint me so?” His voice wavers, “tell me,” he walks around his desk and plops himself on the large chair. “ It was an accident. I forgot to look at the time.” Simon rolls his eyes, “Not true.” you furrow your brows, “Not true?” “No.” 
“You know why you disappoint me, say it.” he nags. “Simon I don’t know-” 
“Yes you do.” Those big brown eyes don’t let up, staring into yours intently, making the deepest parts of you shake. “Do you like him?”  Your brows are knitted together so badly you can feel the crease form in your skin. “Johnny?” You say and it almost sounds like you were accused. Simon nods. “I don’t know.” you let out a big exhale. “Is he nice?” you nod again. “Nicer than me?” 
“You’re not nice.” Simon cocks a brow, “You have your job.” he says and you scoff, “Because you don’t want to be reported to HR.” you snap. “Any person with sense knows you have to build a paper trail.” he snickers, “Opposed to a coffee stain, or an earbud, or god forbid they wear the wrong type of sweater.” you argue, “Maybe they forget the date one too many times, wear headphones when I clearly say no headphones. Or maybe they decide they want to take a 15 minute break, with their new work boyfriend!” Simon retaliated. “It’s not like that.” you sneer. 
“Oh I'm sure it isn't. you two have been flirting ever since he walked through that door.” His jaw set, anger radiating off of his body. 
“I can’t deal with this.” you say, letting out an exasperated sigh, “I’ve tried to. And  I’ve tried to ignore you and your tantrums,” you pause, “I quit.” you finish. 
Simon felt the anger slip off his body and be replaced with dread. Not able to say anything he watched as you walked out of his office finally, sniffling and wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. Simon sat on his chair, not moving, breathing still as he could. He could see you getting your bag from your chair and walking right past his door for the very last time. He could see Johnny’s face full of concern.  
Those big brown eyes, locked on the chair you sat in, wishing he could have approached it all differently.
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Text
Unraveled 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: A curious man wanders into your dress shop with a lot of questions.
Characters: Sherlock Holmes (Cavill)
Note: I hope you all enjoy this random idea.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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One hand guides the fabric as the other turns the wheel. Your work is slow but steady, every stitch perfect, every seam precise. Your fare may be modest and your product simple, but its quality cannot be contested. Your labour as yourself is honest and plain.
The noise of the machine is your only company. The one-room shop nestled behind the butcher’s rarely sees a customer through its door. Instead, the orders are sent from the factories, returned with the printed adverts you disperse outside their doors. The writs are sent along with an envelope of pence and shilling and you complete each with equal diligence before sending them back bundled in paper and twine.
The operation isn’t especially fruitful but the profit is enough to subsist. Enough to guarantee your independence; a small apartment just above and a pot of stew to last you through each week. This humble existence is preferable to any marriage you’ve witnessed. 
The letters from your sisters reaffirm your spinster’s fate. You’d rather a hand wheel and a needle than a brood and broken back. A husband seems to provide several jobs at once, you’ll happily settle for one.
As your hands work from memory and your head wanders from tedium, the bell above the door gives a single sharp toll. You ease the wheel to a halt and leave the seam unfinished. You peer up above the black iron machine, reminding yourself to fix your hunch as a client enters. You can’t but wonder if he may have come to the wrong shop.
By his attire, he is a class above the factory women who require gray skirts and simple stays. His waistcoat is embroidered and his jacket is pressed and clean. He is tall, locks part tidily so his curls lay gracefully. His face is fresh-shaven, square jaw with a cleft, and shoulders broad and strong. He does not share the same sinewy gauntness as the labourers with the coal-dusted noses.
He carries a fine leather bag. Another clue to his status. His shoes, another. Polished and without creases.
You stand to greet him, “good afternoon, sir. Might I help you with something?”
His answer is not prompt. He takes in the finished dresses hung by the east wall and turns to examine the rolls of wool and cotton. At last, he returns his attention to you.
“Afternoon,” his deep timbre fills the small space, “you are the dressmaker.”
It isn’t a question, but you answer, “I am.”
He narrows his eyes as he approaches your desk, the sole fixture in the space. From without, the shop is just as bare. The blackened windows offer not insight into the business, its only suggestion the sign hung above the door, though the paint requires a fresh coat.
“And the shop owner?”
“That is me as well, sir,” you assert. The presumption is not uncommon.
“Ah,” he accepts your explanation without comment, “so, you will have sewn this.”
He puts his bag on the desk, nearly knocking your shears from the corner. You try not to flinch as they teeter near the edge and he pulls open the top of the leather bag. He pulls out a swath of grey. You recognise it and he rolls the cuff to show your initials sewn within.
“Sir,” you say precariously, “is there some issue with it? Is it your wife’s dress?”
“Wife? No, no,” he dismisses, feeling the fabric between his fingers, “rather I am in search of the dress’s owner. The initial must belong to them, yes? So you would have a name for the buyer.”
“Mm, no, those are mine,” you point at the letters, “as it is my handiwork.”
“That makes sense,” he frowns in disappointment. “So you wouldn’t know who would wear it?”
You rub your chapped lips together. You find your tongue sliding over them often when you work, turning them raw with the habit. The man’s lips are rosy and smooth, as well-kempt as the rest of him. He is no factory worker’s husband.
“I might… would you take it out?” You ask.
He obliges as you pluck up the metal cylinder from your desk and unfurl the tape measure from within. He shakes out the dress, holding it by the shoulders to reveal salt stains along the skirts and unleashing a dingy smell in the shop. You wiggle your nose at the stench but worse roils in from the butcher’s on hot days.
You take the measure of the sleeves and the waist, then to the hem. You scribble the numbers on a scrap and take that to compare with your ledger. The measurements are in now way defining but might narrow it down. He keeps the dress aloft and you return to him to check the thread along the seams. A few months ago, you changed the thickness as the factory workers complained of splits under the arms.
“Hm, it is a recent purchase,” you assure him and return to the ledge. 
He lowers the dress and approaches. You snap the book closed and turn your face up to consider him once more, “why do you need to know, if it is not your wife?”
“You are very discerning,” he remarks as he folds the dress and drapes it over his bag, “I’m certain then you can surmise the woman who wore this dress did not meet a kind fate.” He tugs up the hem and shows a tear trimmed in scarlet, the colour not obvious from a distance. “Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. I’m a detective and I’m trying to identify a poor woman found not far from here. I believe it is in your own interest that I discover her assailant.”
“I cannot say for certain which she is,” you turn over the scrap and re-open the ledger. You write down three names which match the measurements and hold the paper out to him. He takes it, his thick fingertips brushing yours. “Those are the ones which align with the dress.”
“Mm,” he hums as he tucks the paper into his chest pocket, “and your name? I couldn’t make it out on the sign.”
You recite your name flatly, “it isn’t on the sign.”
“It requires new paint,” he admonishes, “I could hardly find you.”
“I am aware,” you reply. “Thank you for noting.”
He’s quiet, “being a detective, however, I did indeed put together the clues.”
Is he making a joke? You cannot tell. He folds up the dress completely and puts it back in the leather bag. The smell persists.
“What are you prices?” He asks abruptly.
“Sir, I sew dresses for factory women, sometimes a few communion pieces, but I’m afraid I don’t do much suit work.”
“My sister requires a dress,” he sniffs, “as simple as it is, I can see your work is fine.”
“I have only wools and cottons,” you counter.
“Do you always turn away business?” He challenges.
“I wasn’t, sir, I’m only clarifying what I currently do. My prices are set for those fabrics,” you explain.
“I will pay for the muslin and velvet,” he waves his hand staunchly, “you will be paid for your labour. Can you sew with more than wool and cotton?”
“I can, sir, but you could find a ready-made dress in a market boutique if the dress is required promptly.”
“I can afford the time and coin,” he insists. “You are not a talented advertiser, are you?”
You’re taken aback by his bluntness. Often, his ilk have that demeanour. It’s why you’d rather the factory workers and the fish sellers’ wives.
“I suppose not,” you agree, “I would need measurements before I begin. You may send the numbers along with the fabric, then. And I would require a style. Perhaps your sister is a purveyor of fashion magazines?”
“I will send a messenger,” he shrugs. “Thank you for your time. I shan't get in your way any longer.”
“Good day, sir.”
“Good day to you,” he takes the bag from your desk and the shears fall to the floor with a clatter.
You skirt around to grab them as he bends and swipes them up first. You recoil as he closes the blades with a snap. He examines them before placing them back on the desk.
“Apologies,” he says, “and miss,” he looks at you, “take to heart what I’ve told you today. Keep away from the allies and perhaps you may consider locking your door.”
“Thank you, sir, your concern is appreciated.”
“Rather you might just keep those close, eh,” he points to the shears and his cheek dimples.
Again, you can’t be certain of his humour. You keep a placid expression, neither smiling nor scowling. He clears his throat and runs his hand down his jacket, gripping the lapel.
“Very well then, I’ll be off.”
He turns on his heel and marches to the door. You stay by the desk as the bell rings with his departure. Once the door closes, you cross the shop. You turn the lock into place, his foreboding lingering with the stale scent of dirty water.
🪡
Despite the unusual visit, your days roll on like a hand on a clock. The thought of the woman’s tragic fate looms like a shadow but fades. You have too much stitching to do to fret over that man and his ominous words. You assume his interest in your work thereafter was wholly feigned as he does not return.
That day, you pass off six parcels to Eustace, the driver who takes them down to the stacks to hand off to the floor bosses who will parse them out to the women they’ve been cut for. You pay him his toll before he climbs back into the seat of his cart, his horse kicking impatiently.
“Excuse me, sir,” another driver clops up along the other side of the street, a narrow squeeze between the slanting buildings. “I’m in search of a dressmaker. I believe the store is tucked behind the butcher’s and…” the man’s voice drifts off as his eyes flit to the meat sellers marquee.
“Right here, good sir,” Eustace responds, “wouldn’t ya know, she’s right here.”
You lift your chin to see past the cart and spy the driver. He removes his cap as his gaze meets yours. Eustache dips his chin as he adjusts his own hat and snaps his old mare into a canter. As you're left alone with the carriage driver, a vehicle rather lofty for a block like this, you fold your hands behind you.
“Sir, you hardly look in need of a work woman’s dress,” you say.
“Miss,” he ties the reins off and jumps down from his seat, “I am sent for you, not a dress.”
“For me?” You echo.
“Mr. Holmes has sent,” he crosses the muck and nearly slips. “He said he made an appointment for a seamstress.”
“An appointment? I wasn’t informed of the time,” you rebuff. “I’ve a shop to run, orders paid for. I can’t simply leave.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Holmes made mention of a fee,” the man feels around his striped coat, “he said a deposit would be needed.”
He takes out a brown envelope and hands it over. You take it, a small weight within. You look at the driver before you pull back the flap and peek inside. A large gold sovereign sits in the corner of the paper; a whole pound. That’s at least three days work.
You hold your breath, trying to maintain some composure. If that’s the deposit, what is he offering for the rest? You slip out the folded paper within, a page torn from a fashion journal. The dress is elegant if not extravagant. You don’t often do off-the-shoulder or ruffles like that but it isn’t beyond your skill.
You fold the flap closed again and lift your chin to face the driver, “I must lock up, you see?”
“Take your time, miss,” he says kindly. “Mr. Holmes isn’t expecting you to hurry.”
“Thank you, sir,” you bow your head and turn away.
You measure your steps along the facade of the butcher’s shop and curl around to the alleyway. You let yourself into your shop and tuck the envelope into your apron pocket. You take your sewing bag from under the desk and shake off the dust. You don’t often have reason to use it.
You open it up and pack away your shears, a measuring tape, pins with a cushion, your notebook, and a few other bits and bobs. Just in case. You grab a role of linen from against the wall. It’s heavy but you can manage.
You take the key from your desk drawer and switch off the overhead light. You lock the door and continue back out to the street. The driver puffs smoke from a pipe as he waits.
“Miss, allow me,” he snuffs out the pipe and puts it in his pocket. He nears and reaches for the roll of linen.
“It’s quite alright, sir,” you say.
“I insist, miss, can’t have a lady doing all that,” he takes it, not forcefully, and you let him.
As he goes to the carriage and opens the door, you give pause. You don’t know if you should be so easily swayed on a gold coin. Mr. Holmes hadn’t been entirely pleasant and you do prefer your simple work. Still, you can hardly turn your nose up at a pound. Not with the summer fizzling to a finale.
You lift your skirts and cross the street to the open carriage, “sir, might I have a name?”
“Gavin,” he answers, “and I have yours. Mr. Holmes made sure of it.”
“Yes, very good,” you say as you approach, another sliver of doubt trickling through. Mr. Holmes claimed to be a detective but is that really the reason he was strolling around with a dead woman’s dress? You gulp and look at Gavin then the carriage, “might I keep the window open?”
“Surely you can,” he agrees amiably. “Mr. Holmes lives quite a ways, shouldn’t mind the air. I’ll be certain to stay away from the stacks.”
“Thank you, sir,” you accept his proffered hand and he helps you up into the carriage. 
You settle on the bench as the door shuts and you open the window from within. You lean back, your hand grasping the top of your bag. You unclasp it as you feel Gavin climb up on the driver’s seat. You dip your hand inside and clutch your long shears.
You don’t forget all of what Mr. Holmes said.
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armory-rasa · 3 months
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COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial
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...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.
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First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:
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The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.
Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:
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Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.
First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:
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Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.
The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)
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Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:
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The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:
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Punch the holes shown below:
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I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.
I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:
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(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)
Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:
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Punch stitching holes:
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Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):
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Now you can punch these holes:
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(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)
Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:
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A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.
What they look like when you're finished sewing:
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Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:
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I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.
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MANY BAGS.
For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:
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But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:
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Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁
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Happy Bagging!
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fans4wga · 11 months
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WGA Garage Sale: 2023 Strike Auction
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[image ID: first image is a screenshot from the WGA Garage Sale Auction page. Item is listed as Package 8 with a starting bid of $100 and titled, "Bidding begins July 27 -- Personalized Video from the Office Ladies." Attached is a photo of actresses Angela Kinsey and Jenna Fischer, aka Angela and Pam from The Office.
second image is a screenshot from the WGA Garage Sale Auction page. Item is listed as Package 14 with a starting bid of $100 and titled, "Bidding begins July 27: Elementary props from Robert Wolfe. @writergeekrhw Image is of a man holding props.
third image is a screenshot from the WGA Garage Sale Auction page. Item is listed as Package 18 with a starting bid of $100 and titled "Enigma Machine prop from Bones." Image is of the Enigma Machine from the TV show Bones.
fourth image is a screenshot from the WGA Garage Sale Auction page. Item is listed as Package 24 with a starting bid of $50 and titled, "Lisa Hanawalt Handpainted Bojack Horseman strike sign." Attached is an image of Bojack Horseman with the text "Give us a fair deal or suck a dick dumbshits!"
fifth image is a screenshot from the WGA Garage Sale Auction page. Item is listed as Package 37 with a starting bid of $100 and titled, "Better Call Saul Crew Gifts." Attached is an image of BCS logo beer steins, a bag, and a mug.
sixth image is a screenshot from the WGA Garage Sale Auction page. Item is listed as Package 42 with a starting bid of $100 and titled, "What We Do In The Shadows - Colin Robinson's notebook." Image is of a composition book prop from WWDITS.
seventh image is a screenshot from the WGA Garage Sale Auction page. Item is listed as Package 41 with a starting bid of $50 and titled, "What We Do In The Shadows signed poster (1 of 12 printed)." Attached is the WWDITS poster.
eighth image is a screenshot from the WGA Garage Sale Auction page. Item is listed as Package 46 with a starting bid of $50 and titled, "Connor Roy For President Hat." Image is of a baseball cap from the show Succession that says Connor Roy For President. end ID.]
Support the WGA strike and bid on some cool items from your favorite writers, creators, and film/TV shows! Link to auction site here.
Lots more stuff on the website, with more auction items added frequently!
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