#Lace Weaving Machine

[aldiraweavetech]

Introduction to the Working Principle and Advantages of Lace Weaving Machine

A type of spinning machine called a lace weaving machine is used to weave lace. It can weave different types of fibers in a predetermined pattern to give the items a decorative lace aspect. The invention of the lace weaving machine has greatly advanced the textile sector by simplifying, increasing the effectiveness, and bringing down the cost of producing textile goods. Are you prepared to transform the way you weave? You need look no farther than Weavetech, your go-to partner for expertise in weaving and innovation. Our cutting-edge weaving equipment is made to improve your productivity and craftsmanship.

The Working Principle of Lace Weaving Machine

The way a lace weaving machine works is that you feed fiber cloth into it, and it will weave it into lace faster and in accordance with a predetermined pattern. Software programs the lace weaving machine’s pattern, which can be altered at any time to suit the needs of the client. The output of textile products may be substantially increased by using a lace weaving machine, which can weave with great precision, produce a range of lace effects, and weave lace that is more delicate and natural. It can also save a significant amount of labor costs. The lace weaving machine also boasts excellent durability, a long operating lifespan that is safe and dependable, and low power consumption that has no negative effects on the quality of textile goods.

The Advantages Of Lace Weaving Machine

Because of its many benefits, the lace weaving machine is becoming more and more popular. It is a high-efficiency weaving tool that can handle the demands of embroidery and floral weaving. Get in touch with Weavetech if you’re searching for the top textile machine manufacturer in India; we offer the most energy-efficient twisting and weaving solutions.

First of all, lace weaving machines weave extremely quickly and can reach higher production efficiency levels than conventional floral and embroidery machines. It can significantly increase production efficiency because pattern weaving just requires a shorter cycle time to finish.

Second, there are energy-saving benefits to lace weaving machines. This can minimize energy consumption and save a significant amount of money on energy expenditures because it doesn’t use as much electricity to run as standard flower and embroidery machines.

The benefits of the lace weaving machine also include fabric solidity and puncture force. The force used by the weaving machine to pierce the fabric and insert the thread into it, giving the fabric greater solidity, is referred to as the puncture force. Additionally, the lace weaving machine offers the benefit of cost savings. It can significantly reduce manufacturing costs because it uses fewer consumables than traditional flower and embroidery machines, which utilize a lot of them.

The benefits of a lace weaving machine are clear, to put it briefly. It can reduce production costs, increase fabric solidity and puncture force, conserve energy, and increase production efficiency. As a result, an increasing number of businesses are turning to lace weaving machines to fulfill their demands for floral and embroidery weaving.

Potential issues during the warping and weaving process can be reduced and the final woven fabric’s quality and consistency can be enhanced by carefully choosing the best kind of warping and weaving process, according to instructions, and using premium yarns and weaving machines. You may get the most cutting-edge and energy-efficient twisting and weaving solutions from Alidhra Weavetech. We are a worldwide company with over 20 years of experience providing locally made weaving and twisting machines solutions worldwide.

This blog originally posted here: 

https://www.weavetech.com/introduction-to-the-working-principle-and-advantages-of-lace-weaving-machine/

[scealaiscoite]

.☽༊˚ a hundred assorted prompts

¹⁾ raspberry lip gloss

²⁾ pajama bottoms

³⁾ a silver lighter

⁴⁾ fresh honey

⁵⁾ flushed cheeks

⁶⁾ a fogged-up mirror

⁷⁾ the imprint of a belt buckle on skin

⁸⁾ helium balloons

⁹⁾ a broken cocktail glass

¹⁰⁾ old playing cards

¹¹⁾ chipped green nail polish

¹²⁾ a brown leather wallet

¹³⁾ bullet holes in a wooden wall

¹⁴⁾ seashells lined up along the curve of a spine

¹⁵⁾ beaded curtains

¹⁶⁾ pomegranate seeds

¹⁷⁾ a carabiner heavy with keys

¹⁸⁾ fresh-cut orchids in a pottery vase

¹⁹⁾ vending machine cigarettes

²⁰⁾ an out of date map

²¹⁾ a creaky wooden gate

²²⁾ a minifridge stocked with budweiser and paracetamol

²³⁾ snapdragons growing between pavement slabs

²⁴⁾ smudged yellow eyeshadow

²⁵⁾ slept-in braids

²⁶⁾ library books that’ll never be returned

²⁷⁾ a pink-tiled shower

²⁸⁾ a honeybee on a linen shirtsleeve

²⁹⁾ burnt popcorn

³⁰⁾ watching an eclipse from bed

³¹⁾ a black lace bralette

³²⁾ a tattered patchwork quilt

³³⁾ blue raspberry bubblegum

³⁴⁾ a rusted fishing rod and a dried-up lake

³⁶⁾ the taste of whiskey on someone else’s lips

³⁷⁾ rose-scented candles burned down to the wick

³⁸⁾ crescent-shaped coffee stains on a wooden tabletop 

³⁹⁾ odd socks 

⁴⁰⁾ a loose thread on a jumper sleeve

⁴¹⁾ warm sheets on cold skin

⁴²⁾ amber-tinged perfume

⁴³⁾ gold jewelry 

⁴⁴⁾  a calloused palm against a soft cheek 

⁴⁵⁾ a busted headlight

⁴⁶⁾ sunrise from a jail cell

⁴⁷⁾ hand tattoos that weave around fingers

⁴⁸⁾ coconut shampoo

⁴⁹⁾ a doorbell sounding in the middle of the night

⁵⁰⁾ ladybugs crawling across a headstone

⁵¹⁾ grass stains on blue jeans

⁵²⁾ a loaded saddlebag

⁵³⁾ a dusty wine cellar

⁵⁴⁾ a bikini top draped over a bedpost

⁵⁵⁾ snow in july

⁵⁶⁾ dirt-red mountaintops

⁵⁷⁾ goosebumps in a heatwave

⁵⁸⁾ an empty dinnertable

⁵⁹⁾ a fresh manicure and bruised knuckles

⁶⁰⁾ zombie movies

⁶¹⁾ bitten lips

⁶²⁾ dark eyes full of tears

⁶³⁾ a soft cast in summertime

⁶⁴⁾ stale coffee in paper cups

⁶⁵⁾ frozen peaches on a black eye

⁶⁶⁾ acrid smoke

⁶⁷⁾ bound hands

⁶⁸⁾ animal tracks

⁶⁹⁾ unwound vhs tapes

⁷⁰⁾ cartoon plasters

⁷¹⁾ lipstick marks on shirt collars

⁷²⁾ silver bangles

⁷³⁾ sharing a coat in a downpour

⁷⁴⁾ fields with grass at waist-height

⁷⁵⁾ daisy chains up to your forearm

⁷⁶⁾ rolled-up shirtsleeves

⁷⁷⁾ the smell of bleach in a dark room

⁷⁸⁾ a shared sleeping bag

⁷⁹⁾ a new haircut

⁸⁰⁾ swimsuit tanlines

⁸¹⁾ perfume clinging to a pillow

⁸²⁾ lollipops dangling between lips

⁸³⁾ a badly-timed grin

⁸⁴⁾ old books

⁸⁵⁾ tongues stained from slushies

⁸⁶⁾ waking up in a hailstorm

⁸⁷⁾ dying sunflowers

⁸⁸⁾ colourful sunglasses

⁸⁹⁾ the last pew

⁹⁰⁾ tall, rattling windows in a storm

⁹¹⁾ six missed calls

⁹²⁾ sticks of incense burned down to the last

⁹³⁾ bunk beds

⁹⁴⁾ matching sets

⁹⁵⁾ ruined mascara

⁹⁶⁾ a boxing ring

⁹⁷⁾ stained glass windows

⁹⁸⁾ fairy forts

⁹⁹⁾ a cluttered bedside table

¹⁰⁰⁾ a hangover in the evening

[dresshistorynerd]

Sewing 1890s Day Dress in Doll Scale

I went slightly overboard with this second historical doll project. Here's my first one. The style is from around 1897 and more of a middle class style. As with my first doll outfit, I tried to stick to historical methods as much as possible, but the scale forced me to do some deviations. I hand-sew everything though sewing machine was already widely used, because in this scale it's easier to control the stitch, there's not that much to sew anyway and also I just really like hand-sewing. Here's all the items I made. As said, I went a little overboard. One thing that's missing is the corset cover, but the layers of fabric were creating enough bulk on the waist as is so I decided to not make one.

This time I decided to try repainting the face. I don't have any doll customization materials, so I used acrylics. After couple of attempts I got decent results. Acrylics can't make as smooth and delicate finish as pastels, pencils and gouache, which can be used on vinyl with basing sprays, and I'm not experienced with painting small details on 3D objects, so it's a bit smudged at points, especially with the other eye. I aimed for 1890s very neutral make up and the type of expression that was popular in fashion plates and other illustrations.

Undergarments

Combinations and stockings

The combinations are split crotch as they were in the period. They are from thin cotton voile I have a lot of and is very appropriate. I didn't have really tiny enough lace for this, so it's kinda bulky, but I think it's okay enough. The stockings are cotton knit, which fits well. The garters are not actually necessary for this doll since her legs are rubbery.

Corset

I made the corset from a firm-ish linen and satin rayon pretending to be silk as the fashion fabric. The stitching of the boning channels is not super neat, this fabric is very unforgiving, I didn't have exactly matching thread and the scale made it very difficult. I of course didn't have tiny busk, so I used small hooks, sewed thread loops for them and used narrow metal wire for the edges. I think it looks surprisingly right on the outside. I used the same wire as the boning to reinforce the lacing on the back. I didn't actually use boning elsewhere but the tightly packed linen edges in the boning channels kinda work like lighter boning. I think it keeps the shape pretty ways even with just that. I stitched cotton tape inside to shape the corset further. I also didn't have tiny metal eyelets so I hand-sewed the lacing holes.

Bustle pad

The bustle pad is from linen and stuffed with tiny cabbage.

Petticoat

The petticoat is from the same cotton as the combinations.

Outer wear

Skirt

The fabric is cotton half-panama. It's pretty thin, but firm. I would have liked to use a woven wool, but I didn't have any that's thin enough to work in this scale. I think this cotton looks close enough in this scale to a wool with a tight weave, so I'm imagining it's that. My problem was that the cotton was white, but I wanted light brown. I wasn't going to buy any fabric for this, so I did the reasonable thing and dyed it with red onion peals (I've been doing natural dye experiments so this worked well for me).

Shirtwaist

The shirtwaist is from the same cotton as the undergarments. Yes, I dyed it too. I didn't have thin enough cotton in a color that would fit with the skirt and the purple bow, so I dyed it light blue with fabric color. Since I already went the trouble of dyeing I decided I might as well make a small flower print to it since that was popular in the era. I didn't want it to jump out too much but the lighting makes it even less visible. I made it with a white fabric pen. The collar and cuffs are reinforced with linen. I also sewed small stick-like beads to the cuffs on both sides, so one acts as a button (I sewed a buttonhole too) and the other makes it look like they are cufflinks. The bow is from the same fabric as the corset and the belt is sewn from the same cotton as the shirtwaist. The buckle is from a barbie belt.

Waistcoat

The waistcoat is from the same fabric as the skirt, thought the lapels and the back are from another satin rayon. I tailored the front panels and the lapels by stitching the linen interlining with tailor's stitches (I don't remember if that's the correct word in English) into shape. There is some wonkiness on one side of the hemline for some reason.

Boots

I made the slightly insane decision to make the shoes fully from leather, like they would have been in the period. I had an old broken leather wallet I had saved in case I needed some leather scarps. It has fairly thin leather, so it was workable here. It's light brown though, so I used black shoe polish to darken it. I wanted black or very dark brown shoes. I stacked the heels from glue and leather pieces and carved them into the right shape and sewed the shoe itself to leather shaped as the sole and glued it to the heeled and shaped sole. After I had shaped the shoes and the heels as much as I could I painted the heels black.

[frostedmagnolias]

Wedding Dress

c. 1872-1874

“Silk gauze with satin weave stripes, trimmed with satin weave silk and silk machine-made lace, lined with silk, bow supported with a stiff cotton gauze interlining”

V&A Museum

[zephyrchama]

Quick Leviathan fluff that got out of control (1.4k words). SFW with suggestive aspects, MC's gender isn't mentioned.

---🧵🪡---

Ever since the release of the new Hana Ruri: Transparent Tarot Arc promotional video, Leviathan had make himself scarce. He'd erratically come out for food once in a while or grab an Akuzon package within minutes of it being delivered, but you hadn't received so much as a text from him in a week.

A mechanical whirring sometimes emanated from his room - the sound of a sewing machine at work. The occasional Sucre Frenzy song would accompany it. Nobody was worried, but it at least let everyone know the Avatar of Envy was still alive. Sometimes you'd peek in to make sure he was okay and leave a sandwich at the door. It gets lonely without him though, and eventually you went to talk with him.

The room was chilly, with the AC cranked up high. Leviathan was sitting on the ground, facing the door but blind to everything except the materials in front of him. Rolls of lace and ribbon, jars of sparkling cabochons, cases full of colorful thread and assorted sewing needles. With an impressed "woah!" you moved some empty boxes aside and sat down across from him to get a better look.

He jumped. "Gah! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I knocked."

"I'm busy right now. I have to finish this, it's almost ready." Leviathan glanced at his desk.

A nearly exact replica of Ruri's new PV outfit was laid out next to his PC setup. It was gorgeous. Each piece had been painstakingly recreated and carefully set out over the empty flat surfaces in his room. Fully lined with a glittering beaded trim. The base fabric had a high quality sheen even in the dim light of Levi's room, with satin stitched silk applique petals accenting the skirt.

You admired the handiwork. Then, you admired its maker. Leviathan was carefully stitching fabric flowers to a hat with intense focus. He relied on holding in small, shallow breaths to prevent his hands from shaking. He was blinking more than usual, fighting off the accumulated sleep deprivation. It marred his handsome face with dark eye bags.

You sat next to him for a while and stared. The usually shy Leviathan was too engrossed in his crafting to pay any mind. The more focused he got, the more he frowned, accentuating the wrinkles around his mouth.

"Yeah... you need a break."

"Not now." He picked up a thin awl and poked some holes where the seam was particularly thick.

Talking was futile, you quickly noted that nothing you said would make a difference, so you watched. Every few minutes, a portion of Leviathan's long bangs fell in front of his eyes and he'd blow them out of the way. He flinched when you gently swept them out of the way, as though he forgot you were there.

He huffed. "Like I said! I just have to finish this, so leave me alone. I'm almost done."

The exhaustion was clearly taking over. You hated seeing Leviathan like this, a cold grumpy shell of his normally warm and passionate self.

You intercepted his hand when he reached for another bushel of flowers. His fingertips were calloused and dotted with red indents from hand sewing thousands of stitches without a thimble. It looked painful. No wonder he was working so slowly.

"Levi..."

You lightly traced over his damaged fingertips before weaving your fingers together. You gave his hand a squeeze and his expression slightly eased.

"You're so soft," he grumbled, then fiercely shook his head. "I have to keep working, let go."

That was out of the question. You were determined to break him and force him to rest. You held on and rubbed your thumb on his.

"Ghh, stop!"

Leviathan could easily push you away, but he didn't. Instead, he raised your entwined hands to his face and pressed them against his cheek. "I'm so tired."

"I know."

"You smell so good. It's distracting."

"Thanks. Your dress is pretty."

"It's not... it's... not enough..." Tears appeared in the corners of his eyes. "I can't find the right iridescent fabric so the colors will look off in the sunlight, and my shoulders are too broad so the silhouette of the top looks weird. So to compensate I made the sleeves bigger with more poof but I had to add more darts and you can see there are more seam lines here than in the reference image. And the buttons would look better with a wooden texture but all I had on me to make them was resin, which bubbled on the back, so what if their structural integrity is weake--"

Levi eeped, stiffening as you leaned into a tight hug. You were glad he was talking to you. But he was overthinking, and frustrated. Stressed, and more than anything he needed to take a break.

You expressed as much, scooting back while holding his shoulders at arm's length. "You might think it sucks, but this costume is all you've been doing. You haven't looked at anything else in a week so you've got nothing to compare it to. It's so gorgeous, Levi. Every stitch. Take a break with me and I'll help you finish it in the morning. You'll see how amazing it really is. Okay?"

A tear drop slid down his face, he quickly wiped it away. Leviathan avoided your gaze by staring at his creation, unwilling to walk away while it remained unfinished. "I'm so tired," he repeated.

"Hana Ruri-tan would want you to take a nap. And I want you to take a nap."

Leviathan frowned again, having no logical way to refute that statement. You let him tidy up a few final things as you inspected his bed-tub.

Scraps of spare fabric dangled over the sides. You picked up his sheets to brush off loose threads, plucking out a few loose pins in the process. Pillows were fluffed. Extra fabric was put on a hanger and moved elsewhere. Rolls of ribbon were wound back up. It was kind of relaxing.

Leviathan was rushing to glue a rhinestone when you called him over, his last-ditch attempt to get one more thing finished. You let him spend another couple of minutes waiting for the paste to get tacky. Once it was finally secured in place on the hat brim, he thankfully didn't object any further. After wiping his hands clean he flopped magnificently into bed.

Not even five seconds passed by before he griped, "I can't fall asleep. I can't stop thinking about the costume. I should finish it now."

"Nooo, no, no. No. Move over, you're not getting up. I'm getting in." You slipped into the tub before he could pick himself up, draping your legs over his. "The hat can wait until morning. Then we can get pics of everything, too."

Leviathan sighed in stubborn agreement. His orange eyes, puffy and a little irritated, were looking right at you for the first time that evening.

"You'll let me think about you then, right?" he asked quietly. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand bunching up the fabric on the back of your shirt while the other grazed against your bare skin. His rough fingers traced along your spine. You made a mental note to help him bandage them later.

Pulling you flush against his upper body, he nudged his face into the side of your neck and slid his lips up your shoulder. You hooked an arm under his to gently comb through his hair, resting your chin against his head. It tickled a little, but you felt each passing breath get heavier and slower as your comforting scent lulled Leviathan into much-needed sleep. You soon followed his lead.

Come morning, Leviathan had you in a tight grip while you blearily woke up on top of him. His wandering hands had found their way up your shirt during the night and one of his legs was thrown over yours. You had planned the surprise of getting up early to finish his hat for him, but at this point a surprise morning snuggle was all you could manage.

"Hmmh? What... oh!" Levi woke quickly, with the intense determination of someone ready to finish the cosplay they've been crunching for a week straight. He looked so much better with color returned to his face. Too much color, perhaps, as the more he let go of you the redder his blush became.

"I'll be... uh... bathroom." He dragged himself out of the tub and quickly walked towards the hall, failing miserably to cover his blatant embarrassment.

"Wait! Can I start working on some things while you're gone?" you asked, motioning towards the nearly-finished costume.

Leviathan nodded. "Uh, yeah...? Go ahead."

"And you'll try it all on for me when you get back, right?"

With a full night's rest behind him and the finish line in clear sight, the giddiness of an exciting new cosplay was returning and Leviathan gave a cheerful "yeah... Ok, yeah! I'll be right back, so don't go anywhere!"

[woso-dreamzzz]

Copy

Alessia Russo x Child!Reader

Summary: You want to be like your sister

It was obvious to just about everybody that you were the happy little accident of the family. Your brothers and sister were so much older than you, with jobs of their own while you were just starting school.

No one liked to call you a mistake though it was certainly the word that went through everyone's mind when they saw you and Alessia standing next to each other.

It was the word that everyone in the England team was thinking of the moment Alessia showed up to camp with you by her side. You were settled easily on her hip as you aimlessly sucked your thumb, no matter how many times your sister pulled it from your mouth.

It wasn't exactly the plan that you would come with Lessi to camp but Mummy and Daddy had to go away and Luca and Gio were too busy to look after you so Lessi was the last choice.

Lessi's your absolute favourite. Mummy and Daddy say it's mean to have favourites but you don't really care. Gio and Luca can stick together because they're boys and you'll stay with Lessie because you're girls.

You want to be like Lessi when you're older and you want to do everything she does.

You didn't use to see Lessi a lot when she played for United but she plays for Arsenal now so you see her a bit more regularly. Lessi's your biggest idol and she doesn't smell bad like your brothers do so you like to be with her all the time.

"Alright," She says, smoothing down your hair," Do we want laces or velcro?"

You look at the two shoe options she's showing to you. You look between them, biting at your lip as you swing your feet back and forth.

"What're you wearin'?"

"Well, I've got laces."

"I want laces!"

Lessi laughs. "Of course you do." She slips the shoes onto your feet and double knots your laces because you're still a bit too little to do them by yourself. You're learning though because Lessi can tie her laces by herself so you're going to learn too.

Alessia's big and tall as she leads you by the hand down to the gym. You want to be big and tall like Lessi too someday and you lean easily into her side as you walk.

"Well, looks like the smallest member of the squad has arrived." Ella's the one speaking and you wave at her. Ella's Alessia's adult best friend so you need to be nice to her. You're Lessi's proper best friend though because she tells you that all the time but you still have to be nice to Ella because Lessi will get sad if you don't.

So, you smile and wave at Ella as Lessi sets you up at the machine she's about to use. It looks very big and complicated but Alessia knows what she's doing because she loads some weights onto it and starts pulling on a rope thing to lift it up and down.

You circle the machine suspiciously, looking at all angles as Lessi takes big, deep breaths as she pulls, releases and then pulls again.

You kind of want to try and you reach your hand up to grab onto it too.

Alessia smiles fondly at you but removes your hand. "Sorry, tesoro. You can't help me."

You frown at that. "Why?"

"Because I have to do this by myself."

"Why?"

"So I can get stronger."

"I can get stronger like you too!"

Alessia's still smiling at you. "You're only little, tesoro. Maybe when you're older."

You don't like that answer. If you wait too long then maybe Alessia won't like you anymore. You don't want her to not like you.

Your bottom lip wobbles and she sighs.

"Hey," She says," How about this? I left my bottle over there by Mary. It's pretty heavy and I need a strong girl to go and grab it for me."

You turn to look where she's pointing. It's one of those big bottles that holds a gallon or something and it's sitting on the floor by where Mary's working out.

"I'm a strong girl," You say and Lessi laughs.

"I know you are. Can you go and grab it for me?"

You nod. You make to run off to grab it before you backtrack so you can give Lessi a hug and a kiss.

You weave your way through the gym before scaring the socks off Mary when you suddenly just appear and start dragging Lessi's water bottle away with you.

"Jesus," She says, placing a hand on her chest," You need to stop popping up like that. You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," You say, straining as you drag the bottle with you.

"Do you need some help?"

"No!" You say quickly, puffing out your chest," I'm a strong girl like Lessi. I can do it myself."

"Alright then," Mary says," Off you go then."

You kind of think this is like what Lessi's doing on the machine. She's pulling on something with weight and now you're pulling on something with weight.

So, technically, you are copying Lessi. You like that. You're too little to use the machine but you're not too little to copy the exercises Lessie does.

She's beaming as you come back, dragging the bottle the whole length of the gym towards her. She rewards you with a kiss on the head and half a chocolate bar.

You get tired pretty quickly when Lessi sends you off to do other things that mimics what she's doing on the machines. You wish you were big enough like Lessi to use them but you think doing these little errands makes up for it.

It gets you very tired though and suddenly you can't copy Lessi anymore. You wish you could but you're very tired out so you just kind of sit down with her as she finally goes through some stretches.

You crawl between her legs and rest you head against her shoulder.

Lessi's hands come up to adjust you so you're settled nicely in her lap as she chatters away to Maya and Ella. She's managed to keep stretching around you and you just let yourself sag against.

"I think someone needs a nap," Maya says pointedly and, even though you're exhausted, you still hear her perfectly.

"No," You grumble to Lessi," No nap."

"I think it would help," Lessi says.

You shake your head. "No. Are you nappin'?"

"No."

"Then I'm not nappin'."

Lessi laughs at that before getting to her feet.

You whine when she pulls away from you, stumbling to crowd into her space again.

"Hey," She says," It's alright. I'm just stretching my legs a little."

"Stretching too," You reply softly even though you're swaying a little bit because you're sleepy.

"Come on." Lessie leans down to pick you up and you go limp in her arms. "How about that nap now?"

You shake your head and take a firm grip of her shirt. "Nap if you nap."

"Well," She says," I guess we can nap together today."

[digitalfashionmuseum]

Blue Silk ‘Aesthetic’ Dress, 1893-1894, English.

By Liberty & Co. Ltd.

Victoria and Albert Museum.

[the1920sinpictures]

1926 Day dress of light blue cotton voile embroidered with raised blue floral motifs and smocking; 1923 Day dress and sash of moss green open weave tattersall cotton trimmed with machine made white cotton lace. From Augusta Auctions.

[jewellery-box]

Dress, circa 1883-1885, Scotland

Silk, cotton, linen, metal

Description: Woman’s dress in cream corded silk chine printed with abstract floral design in red, blue, brown and yellow, with small, rectangular neckline with facing in pleated red silk satin, fitted bodice constructed in six panels, fastening centre front with red cord lacing through fourteen pairs of eyelets over a stomacher-style panel of horizontal cream machine lace frills. Elbow-length sleeves with pleated red silk satin cuffs. Skirt, full-length, fastening on left with five metal hooks and eyes, chine overskirt pleated into waistline at front and over hips at side, side panels trimmed with vertical border of cream machine lace and frill of cream machine lace extending into lower side edges of train, centre back cut-in-one with bodice with additional width in skirt to go over bustle, extending into a long train, red silk satin frill under hem. Petticoat-style underskirt revealed in front in cream silk satin underskirt decorated with six slightly asymmetrical horizontal rows of cream machine lace. Bodice lined in printed cotton, fitted with eight metal bones and waistband. Skirt front lined with linen and printed cotton, sides and back lined with printed cotton, integral thirteen-inch wire mesh bustle with two sets of twill weave tapes to pull fullness to back to create train, balayeuse around hem of skirt and train. Waistband printed in light green ‘R. Simpson and Sons Costumiers Jamaica St. Corner Glasgow’.

Worn by Ann Smith, the wife of Robert Kirk Simpson of R Simpson and Sons.

This romantic dress is printed with roses and has machine-lace frills on the skirt. In the 1870s and 1880s fashion looked back to the late 1700s, with its flamboyant fabrics, for inspiration. The blurred effect on this evening dress is created by printing the warp prints before the fabric is woven. This ikat technique originated in Asia and was introduced to France in the mid-1700s, where it was known as chiné. Here, it’s use, together with the laced bodice and open over-skirt draped back over the hips and into the bustle, reflect the historical revival style with its imitation of an eighteenth-century open gown.

Glasgow Museums Collection Online

[discoscoob]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ PHANTOM

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚ Tom Ludlow x Hacker!Reader x Neo Anderson

VOLUME 001

CW: fem!reader, strong language, alcoholism, stalking

Synopsis: Veteran detective, Tom Ludlow, leads the hunt to find the hacker responsible for a cyberattack on the city’s police department with the assistance of Neo, a criminal hacker who he keeps out of jail in exchange for information. 4.0k words.

⋆｡°✩ Note: Reader has a hacker alias, like Neo, that she is referred to however this is not intended to be her real name. Although the story takes place in 1999, some creative liberties have been taken with the advancement of the technology but I tried my best to keep it realistic. I did some research but my knowledge of technology, American law enforcement protocols and hacking is limited/non-existent, so I apologise in advance if anything I’ve written is completely inaccurate. And finally, since I decided to set the story in Chicago, Tom works for the CPD rather than the LAPD. I think that’s all.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

CHICAGO, NOVEMBER 1999

The door chimes as you step into the refuge of the intimate coffee shop, escaping the deluge of the late autumn thunderstorm. Folding up the damp newspaper you had been sheltering under, you’re greeted warmly by the gentle aroma of freshly ground coffee and cinnamon. Beaded raindrops slide off the hem of your black leather trench coat, leaving a trail of droplets over the rustic floorboards on your way towards the counter.

Exploiting the vantage point, you subtly scope the room, scanning for the individual you have arranged to meet. Amidst the ordinary and familiar, a lone hooded figure hunched in the farthest, darkest corner catches your eye.

Cradling the steaming mug of coffee you ordered, warmth flows from the porcelain, melting the chill from your fingers as you weave through the bohemian maze of tables and chairs. Upon reaching the table occupied by the hooded man, you grab his attention by tossing your damp, tattered newspaper on the cherry-wood tabletop before sliding yourself into the chair opposite him.

“Impressive.” his low rasp flows above the bumble of chatter, the whir of the espresso machine and the clatter of the crockery, as he drums his bitten-nailed fingertips over the smudged headline of the dampened newspaper.

‘CYBERATTACK CRIPPLES CHICAGO P.D.’ it reads in bold font across the front page.

You conceal your troubled frown behind your cup of coffee, sipping slowly. Despite your best efforts to hold yourself with casual confidence, your stomach squirms with nerves as if contaminated by worms that coil and twist, leaving a weight of knots that only grows heavier with every glance over your shoulder.

When the man opposite you lowers his hood, you peek over the brim of the mug. The faint amber glow of the overhead lights casts a warm hue upon his pale face, revealing his buzzed haircut, sharp grey eyes and a cursive tattoo above his right brow that reads ‘escape.’

“I can see why you’re interested in some additional protection.” his hushed tone is laced with a knowing edge, as he leans forward, elbows resting on the tabletop, assessing you with a tilted stare.

“You got it?” you waste no time with false pleasantries, uninterested in conversation, you would rather keep this brief. Disregarding his attempt to assert control, your cool exterior remains unflinching as you nonchalantly trace your middle finger along the edge of your mug.

You catch the shift in the muscles of his cheek as he clenches his jaw and leans back into his chair. Grudgingly, he reaches into the pocket of his dark hoodie and pulls out a nondescript disc case. The clear plastic gleams under the overhead lights as he drops it on top of the newspaper with a sharp huff.

You quirk an eyebrow at his insolence, offering no more than that before your attention is snatched by the disc. Picking up the case, you turn it over in your hands and examine it with narrowed eyes.

“This is the only copy?” you double-check while opening the case with a soft click. The disc glimmers as it catches the light, momentarily illuminating your face.

“It’s custom software. No trails. No backups.” he affirms, crossing his arms over his chest.

Satisfied with his response, you scope the room once more, noting how the other patrons are too absorbed in their own lives to notice the rolled up wad of cash you slip into his waiting palm.

“Always a pleasure.” he appears pleased with the payment and stuffs the money into his pocket before he pulls his hood back over his head and leaves the table. As you take a sip from your coffee, the chime of the door echos and the draught from the storm sweeps in as he disappears into it.

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The glaring artificial light from the monitors reflects off the lenses of Neo’s metal frame glasses while his long, jittery fingers click furiously across his keyboard. The perpetual clacking of the keys blends with the low hum of Mezzanine by Massive Attack echoing from the stereo system through the dull and bleak apartment, drowning out the sound of the storm outside. Cables snake across the bare floor, intertwining with the wheels of the worn desk chair. Neo is hunched over his chaotic desk, littered with discarded snack wrappers, empty coffee cups and energy drinks.

Locked in the digital labyrinth, Neo navigates it with unblinking eyes, the code mirrored in his pupils is no doubt permanently scorched into his retinas. The heavy shadows under his eyes are a testament to the endless caffeine-fuelled nights he spends sitting at his computer.

A heavy, insistent knock at the door shatters Neo’s focus, tearing his gaze from the monitors with an agitated groan. The distinct knock and the late hour of the visit tell him exactly who’s at his door.

With a huff, Neo turns off his stereo and pulls himself to his feet, stretching his arms over his head to relieve the tension in his stiffened joints. A satisfied moan rolls from his lips and his black T-shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of his pale, sun-deprived skin as his bones click and pop. He pads softly towards the door on socked feet, stepping over tangled cables and discarded wrappers along the way.

Just as he expected, he opens his door to find Tom Ludlow in the dark hallway, leaning against his door frame with a stretched arm. The hardened, veteran detective invites himself inside without waiting for an invitation, the pungent scent of vodka clings to him and wafts into Neo’s dreary apartment as he enters.

“You look like shit.”

The gruff remark comes as no surprise, Tom isn’t exactly known for his sunny disposition.

“You don’t look any better.” Neo kicks his door shut with a grumble before slouching back into his desk chair, returning his attention to his monitors and diving back into the digital labyrinth. Meanwhile, the seasoned cop noses around the cluttered apartment with a disapproving frown tugging at his lips.

Tom lets his heavy body sink into the cushions as he drops onto Neo’s worn two-seater with a long, drawn out sigh of relief. It’s the first time he has had an opportunity to relax all day. He takes a moment to appreciate it.

“That might have something to do with the fact I just spent the last twelve hours dealing with a fucking cyberattack that’s got the whole damn department by the balls.” Tom rests his head down on the back of the couch and closes his eyes as he rubs his hand over his weary face.

“What’s your excuse?” he pauses, lifting his head, letting his eyes trail from Neo’s socked feet to his tousled, unwashed hair. “You’ve got all the time in the world, you could at least attempt to make yourself look half-decent, if you stepped away from that computer for two goddamn seconds…” Tom trails off, realising his frustration might verge on cruelty if he lets himself continue. Instead, he shifts his focus to the murky apartment. “You know, I’ve raided crack dens cleaner than this…”

“So the cyberattack really pissed you off, huh?” Neo turns in his desk chair without acknowledging Tom’s insolent remarks.

“Of course it fucking pissed me off! The entire network is shut down, there’s an encryption or something, I don’t know, blocking access to all the files and data. The Captain’s on my ass to solve this shit internally and find the bastard responsible before the Feds start poking their noses in with all their red tape and bureaucracy bullshit. You know, I always said, you can't rely on computers. The whole damn department is falling apart because everything's digital these days. A cyberattack can bring down an entire system. You couldn’t hack a piece of paper. No, you'd have to burn down the whole damn building or something to get rid of all the physical files.” Tom throws his head back on the couch again and stares up at the stained ceiling, while Neo discreetly rolls his eyes at Tom’s drunken rant and aversion to modern technology.

“Dude, I hate to tell you this, but you’re in way over your head. You’d be better off saving yourself the hassle and leaving this one to the Feds.” Neo advises Tom, clearly doubting his ability to uncover the hacker.

“What do you mean?” Tom leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You’re basically looking for the Banksy of cybercrime. A ghost. They’re completely untraceable. There are entire forums full of conspiracies — people think they’re ex-CIA, others are convinced they’re not even real.” Neo’s enthusiasm as he talks about the mystic hacker is met with an unimpressed glare from Tom, who rises from the couch and stalks toward him.

“Believe me, they’re real. A real fucking pain in the ass.” Tom grumbles sourly, hands resting on his hips. “What else do you know?”

“Just that they call themself Eris.” Neo softly mumbles, looking up at Tom from behind his glasses.

“And you found out all this on your forums?” Tom narrows his eyes while vaguely gesturing towards Neo’s monitors.

“Yeah, pretty much… I’ve been following it ever since the news broke. They’re going crazy.” Neo glances over his shoulder towards his monitors before returning his focus towards Tom when he is suddenly hit by a fresh wave of realisation.

“Hold on… you knew nothing? You mean, you’ve been chasing your tails for the last twelve hours?” Neo raises an eyebrow while barely managing to stifle a laugh.

“It’s been pretty fucking hard with the entire department’s network shut down!” Tom immediately snaps defensively. “What do you think I came here for?”

“Okay, I get it, you want my help.” Neo lets out a deep sigh, gently swaying his desk chair side to side as he bounces his leg and avoids Tom’s fierce gaze. “But Eris isn’t just some run-of-the-mill script bunny, we’re talking about a master. It’ll be virtually impossible to track down their identity.”

“So you’re telling me you can’t do it?” frustration seeps into Tom’s tone as he folds his arms across his chest and leans against Neo’s desk, causing the empty coffee mugs to rattle.

“I didn’t say that.” Neo perks up and straightens himself in his desk chair as if trying to shake off the weight of his own self doubt. “Listen, I’ll try, okay? But I can’t guarantee that I’ll find anything. You’re asking me to find a ghost.”

“Even ghosts can leave traces, Neo.” Tom offers Neo a firm, encouraging pat on his shoulder before dragging himself back over to the worn two seater couch. Exhausted after a long, stressful shift and subdued by the vodka, Tom collapses onto the cushions horizontally.

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The faint click of keys is broken by the sharp hiss and pop of another energy drink opening as Neo scours forum after forum. The glow from the monitor is the only source of light in the room as he reads through endless streams of contradictory information and preposterous conspiracies. His attempts to reach out to fellow hackers has been predictably futile — dead ends, dismissals and wild goose chases.

When the deep repetitive rumble of snoring begins to flow through the room, Neo glances back at Tom, who is passed out cold with his arm dangling off the side of the couch. With a huff, Neo shoves his headphones on and blasts The Downward Spiral by Nine Inch Nails loud enough to drown out the sound.

Hours pass, punctuated by the clicks of his keyboard. His head feels foggy from exhaustion and the streams of meaningless data he has sifted through. But then, a pattern begins to emerge from a series of recurring orders of high-end custom encryption software from underground markets, all linked with the same digital fingerprint. A breadcrumb trail. His heartbeat quickens as he runs the information through a data-mining algorithm, leading him deeper down the rabbit hole. That’s when he finds it — an encrypted communication between Eris and a known cyber dealer.

The message is brief but reveals a meeting took place just a few hours ago at a local coffee shop, finally giving Neo a physical location to place the illusive hacker. With his pulse hammering, Neo hacks into the security cameras and pulls up the footage for the exact hour the meeting was scheduled.

Neo’s fatigued eyes scan the pixelated footage, searching for the possible suspect. His breath catches at the sight of a woman wearing a leather trench coat, walking with a confident stride. She tosses a newspaper on a table occupied by a hooded figure, before sliding into the chair opposite. Neo zooms in, every detail sends a jolt through him — her pretty face, subtle confidence, the quirk of her brow, the way her middle finger traces the rim of her coffee cup.

She’s perfect. So perfect and stunning.

Neo’s heart throbs, for once, it’s not due to the obscene amounts of caffeine in his system. A mixture of fascination and desire floods through his body and the hunt for the high-profile hacker slips to the back of his mind. He loops the footage, letting his mind drift until something in the video yanks him back to reality. He watches the man hand her a nondescript disc. After a brief inspection, she slips a thick wad of cash into his waiting palm in return.

Neo shakes his head, in an attempt to clear the haze of desire clouding his judgment. He replays the footage again, rewatching the exchange several times, until there is no doubt in his mind that she is the one he has been searching for.

Neo slumps back into his chair, defeated and elated all at once. He hadn’t expected this. Not only is she brilliant, elusive and smart but also gorgeous. It’s not fair. Staring at the frozen image on the screen, his mind races. The initial plan to assist Tom vanishes in a wave of wild impulse. Eris isn’t just another faceless criminal anymore. She is no longer a mystic ghost that exists only in the depths of endless conspiracies on hacker forums. Now, she is real, tangible and absolutely captivating. Neo knows he can’t just give her up.

“Fuck.” he groans, pulling off his glasses and burying his face in the palm of his hands with his elbows resting on the few clear spaces left on his cluttered desk. He tries to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through his mind.

“What’s wrong?” Neo hears a faint grumble. His head snaps up, panic surging through him. He nearly gives himself whiplash with how fast he turns to look behind him. Tom, in a half-dazed state, sprawled on his stomach, his cheek pressed against the cushions and his arm dangling off the side of the couch, is just barely starting to come to his senses.

“N- Nothing… just…” Neo’s tone wavers with panic, his jittery fingers scramble to urgently close the security footage. He feels his face flush as he blurts. “I was… uh… I- I was watching porn.”

Neo freezes, his eyes widen and his face pales after those words leave his mouth without a trace of forethought as he wonders, out of all the possible excuses, why the fuck did he say that?

Still half-asleep, Tom huffs as he sits up, groaning at the throbbing ache in his skull from his hangover. He pauses, trying to process Neo’s words.

“You were… what?”

“I- I mean, no, I wasn’t—”

“Neo, are you being fucking serious?” Tom growls, his voice raising, along with his stress and frustration, his expression hardens with disbelief. “You’re telling me, instead of tracking down the hacker, like I told you to, you’ve been sitting there jacking off — while I’m right here! — like some kind of fucking creep. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“No! It’s not like that!” Neo pitches in desperation, his cheeks blazing red, realising what a freak he just made himself out to be.

“I haven’t got time for your bullshit excuses, Neo. I’ve got to get back to the station and do some actual police work.” Tom shoots up from the couch and paces, distractedly checking his pager for any updates from the department. “I should’ve known better than to trust some wannabe hacker, you can barely make it in the virtual criminal world on your damn computer, never mind the real world. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Neo jolts in his chair at the slam of the door, surprised it’s still on its hinges with the way Tom roughly swung it shut behind him after storming out. He knows Tom is stressed, frustrated, and hungover — a toxic combination — but that doesn’t soften the sting of his cruel words. They cut deep, no matter how much Neo tries to tell himself that Tom probably didn’t really mean them.

“Well done, Neo.” he mutters bitterly to himself, the sound of his own voice barely above a whisper in the now-empty room.

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Neo is fully aware that what he is planning to do isn’t exactly sane or rational. After Tom stormed out, he spent hours combing through more of the security footage, discovering that you frequent the coffee shop almost daily. You always settle in the little nook by the alcove window, overlooking the bustling city streets, with the same order: a coffee and panini. Now, on impulse, he has decided to visit the café himself, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in person.

Water droplets cling to his freshly showered skin, trickling down his pale frame in slow, meandering paths. A dark towel is wrapped securely around his hips, where faint tufts of dark, coiled hair peek out from beneath the terry cloth on his lower abdomen. He rifles through a haphazard pile of clothes on the floor, lifting several shirts to his nose, inhaling deeply before discarding them, searching for the freshest one.

Neo trails his sunken eyes over his reflection in the smudged mirror, a shaky breath escaping his moistened lips at the sight. His jittery fingers pat down his slicked back hair, pushing stray strands into place. The contact lenses — a change from his usual glasses — feel heavy on his tired eyes, sharpening the fuzzy edges of the world around him.

The sight of himself so neat and put together feels strange and offbeat — like a Halloween costume, if the costume was ‘Normal Guy.’

When Neo arrives at the coffee shop, he makes a sensible choice and orders decaf. He is jittery enough without the added rush of more caffeine racing through his veins. This coffeehouse isn’t his usual haunt — he tends to stick to instant coffee at home — but he can understand why you like it here. The cozy warmth and hushed ambiance even manage to unwind some of the tension coiled inside him as he settles at your usual table, the one tucked away in the nook by the alcove window. He hopes you’ll glance over to check if your favourite spot is taken — and see him. That would be enough. Then he will know you’re aware of his existence. Neo’s plan doesn’t extend much further than that for now.

The coffee, however, sits untouched as Neo anxiously taps his foot, his focus flicking between the door and the clock on the wall. His unsettled heart spasms with every chime of the door — half longing, half fretting — that it might finally be you, stepping over the threshold.

He wipes his palms on his dark jeans, feeling the contact lenses prick against his tired eyes.

Then the door chimes again.

Neo’s breath hitches. His heart leaps.

As soon as he lays his eyes upon you, the world ceases her rotation. The hushed chatter, clattering mugs and hissing steamer blur into a distant hum, drowned out by the pounding of his throbbing heart against his ribcage. You step through the door, carrying yourself with effortless confidence that, to him, seems otherworldly. There’s something magnetic about you, every cell in his body feels the tug, luring him toward you.

You haven’t noticed him. Not yet. But you will.

Suddenly, there’s too much saliva pooling in his mouth, he swallows thickly, desperately trying not to choke and make a fool of himself. His fidgety fingers twitch, reaching for his untouched coffee cup just to keep them occupied and anchor himself. He fears he might float away, like an untethered balloon, if he doesn’t hold onto something solid.

It’s an overused expression, but he truly can’t believe his eyes. You’re real, standing right there, only a few feet away. Adrenaline surges through his quivering body, sending his pulse into overdrive. His thoughts glitch and stutter, suspending him over a chasm of indecision, caught between yearning to get closer and the impulse to crawl under the table before you notice him.

Before Neo has the chance to do either, the door chimes once more.

His eyes widen at the sight of Tom following behind you.

What the hell is he doing here? What the hell is he doing with you?

His mind floods with questions that twist his anxious stomach into knots. Did Tom figure out who you are? Has he caught you already? It doesn’t look like he’s arresting you. Perhaps he is just questioning you.

Panic coils around Neo’s heart like barbed wire, his fingers tighten around the coffee cup. Neo’s eyes bounce between you and Tom, trying to piece together an explanation, but it only leaves him more confused, more anxious.

This doesn’t make any sense.

His heart hammers against his ribs, dangerously hard, as Tom leans in, speaking to you in a way that’s far too casual, far too familiar. Neo’s mind spirals. Tom doesn’t look suspicious of you — he doesn’t seem suspicious of anything. In fact, he almost seems… apologetic.

The detective's lips move with words Neo desperately wishes he could hear, he wants to know what makes you stop and listen. Neo gulps, trying to force the air trapped in his throat back down to his lungs as he watches you process Tom’s words. Whatever he said, causes the faintest smile to tug at your lips, and Neo feels an unfamiliar twist in his chest, bitter and sharp.

It only worsens when he watches a rare curve appear on Tom’s usually rigid face. Since when does Tom smile like that? It’s all because of you…

You’re… amazing. Neo knows that for certain now, you had to be to crack someone as hard as Tom. That’s why Neo is so drawn to you, your power, your allure. No one else possesses the power to soften a man like Tom. No one but you.

But what do you see in him? Jealousy coils tighter in Neo’s gut, while his admiration for you grows with every second. You’re remarkable, strong, gorgeous, untouchable. And Tom? He doesn’t deserve any of it. He doesn’t deserve your smile, your time, your company. Neo hates it.

His jaw tightens when Tom pays for your order. What do you do to him? Tom isn’t charmed by just anyone. Neo’s thoughts churn, his unsettled mind runs in circles and his grip on the coffee cup tightens as he watches, helpless, waiting for the pieces to fall into place. But the puzzle remains a mess.

Then, your eyes shift.

Neo’s heart stumbles and drops like a rock and your gazes lock. His body freezes and his tumbling heart quivers with a racing pulse. No… no, no, no…

You saw him.

Neo quickly diverts his attention, but it’s too late. That one moment, your eyes locking, that was enough. An icy shiver crawls down Neo’s spine, melting at the base as dread seeps into his veins. She caught me staring? What must she think?

Neo’s chest tightens as you lean closer to Tom, he can’t hear your words, but the way you nod subtly in his direction makes his throat go dry. You’re telling him. You told him. Panic spreads like wildfire as Neo’s eyes dart around, wondering how quickly he could bolt to the exit without making a scene, but before he can act, Tom turns. The soft smile is gone, replaced by the sharp, hardened look Neo is more familiar with.

Tom’s gaze lands directly on him. Oh fuck. Now you’re both looking at him.

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⋆｡°✩ Note: I’m sorry this part is very reader lite but don’t worry reader is in the next part from start to finish and I’ll introduce the third mystery keanuverse character! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it enough to come back for more! VOLUME 002 will be posted in November!

[mayakern]

Why....why are the sweaters 3/4 sleeve??? Personally I would totally get a black sweater (or white tbh) but I can't vibe with a 3/4 sleeve (for a few reasons, mostly various sensory/attention problems) so i was wondering why that choice was made and whether there's any chance of a full length sleeve being made in addition or instead? But also I'm curious as to exactly what kind of fabric it is? Is it an anti-pill material? (Pilling is one of my fabric enemies)

so first off, this as is about the lace collar sweaters that will be hitting the store later this year. you can watch the full video here, but i’m including screenshots as well for those of y’all who don’t want to watch the video.

2nd, i get that everyone has personal preferences, but this was unnecessarily rude. you’re not going to like every decision we make, and that’s OK, but if you’re old enough to use a credit card to buy things online, you’re old enough to realize that product decisions you dislike were not made to personally gall you.

there were a few reasons we chose to do 3/4 sleeves, but the primary reason was that 3/4 sleeves work better for a variety of arm lengths. a 3/4 sleeve will look good whether someone’s arm is shorter or longer than average, whereas a full length sleeve can easily be too long or too short for the person wearing it. we also didn’t want to do short sleeves because at the time the only other shirt we had in production was the wrap top, which has short/cap sleeves.

we do have some full long sleeve shirts/sweaters in planning/in production that we have not shown off yet, but currently we do not have plans to make a long sleeve version of this particular sweater because we have no idea what sales will look like. if these sweaters sell well and there’s considerable customer demand, we’ll consider doing long sleeves. if these sweaters sell poorly they will not be returning to the store, period. we are a small business with limited funds and we cannot throw infinite money at the wall.

last, the fabric composition is 62% polyester, 33% viscose, 5% elastane. we tested a lot of fabrics for this sweater, and this was the only one that felt right. its appropriate thickness (not super thin, but not super thick, so that it can easily be layered under warmer garments or worn solo without causing you to overheat), the cute ribbing, and the texture/feeling (which don’t aggravate my textural sensitivities as an autistic person with very sensitive skin) were all just right.

we’ve also done a number of wash tests and did not encounter any issues with pilling. in general, if you take good care of our garments, that is not going to be an issue from our current manufacturer, who have demonstrated time and again that they prioritize quality labor and material that is made to last. the reason shein products fall apart isn’t because they’re made of polyester: it’s because the sewing is rushed and the fabric fibers are low quality and often have a looser knit or weave, which makes them more prone to damage/falling apart on a structural level.

as for pilling specifically, pilling is actually the fabric breaking. looser weaves/knits are more prone to breakage because they are more open and cheap fabrics are often made of looser weaves, which results in more pilling. but even a high quality material can pill under the right (or wrong) circumstances. when fiber is wet, similar to hair, it is more vulnerable to breakage, and washing machines with agitators (the big thing in the middle of some washers) are really really good at breaking your fibers, thus resulting in more pilling.

anyway tldr the sweaters shouldn’t have any pilling issues if you treat them right and full length sleeves are not likely to happen but are not totally impossible.

[ratwavegamehouse]

PSYCHODUNGEON is out now digitally!

Descend into mindscape dungeons, navigate and survive a client's traumas given monstrous form, pull someone back from the brink and take home a meagre paycheck.

No dice, no masters, no insurance, no way out but down.

What people are saying about PSYCHODUNGEON

"PSYCHODUNGEON is a post-Blairite, post-Dungeon, modernist nightmare laced with hope. Imagine if the adventuring party sent to accompany you into the labyrinth spawned from your traumatic past are employed by the same company who decided to skimp on COVID protections for their care homes as it made more money than ensuring nobody living in them died, and overseen by the government department tasked with making sure nurses are as overworked/underpaid as possible. Sure, this band will try their best to help (most of the time). But also, their lives are hard as fuck. They are gonna be messy and imperfect and it is going to get weird somewhere along the line. Truthfully, I'm surprised this game didn't first appear as a strip in 2000AD." - Tanya Floaker (The Connection Machine, Solstice, Be Seeing You)

"PSYCHODUNGEON does what some of the best Belonging Outside Belonging games do, which is create a setting that is a powerful mirror to our own, and then weave that setting into the very marrow of the game. The setting, its dungeons, clients, and psychoplumbers are inescapable in the best way possible because you don’t want to escape it. You want to dive in and see and feel everything that the postdungeon city of Glyndain has to offer. And then come out the other side changed by the experience." - Josh Hittie/Ostrichmonkey Games (Vibe Check and DEATHGRIND!!MEGASRUCTURE!!)

"PSYCHODUNGEON is one of those rare gems of a game that are at the same time strong death-of-capitalism critique and interesting dungeon delving. Most importantly, the way characters are very much not-ok is fresh and stimulating. I want to go and be not well in a psychodungeon." - Paolo of Lost Pages

[kekaki-cupcakes]

hello, are you still doing requests?

if so, could i have some sibling headcanons of nico with a hades kiddo that's really peppy and into colorful things and people find it hard to believe they're siblings at first because their personalities are polar opposites of each other?

thankyou!

Heya, I'm still doing requests but I have so many so it might take a while to get an answer, feel free to request something else though! This kind of went off track but oh well <3

Don't take it to heart---Nico/opposite aesthetics sibling!reader

»»————-　★　————-««

-The minute you skipped up to the porch of the Hades Cabin with your stripey rainbow leg warmers and a tote bag with a stupid pun about a show with something called ‘carebears’, Nico winced.

-He’d need sunglasses if he had to keep looking at you, but he didn’t really want to borrow the big yellow star ones on the end of your nose, so maybe that was a bad idea. Your first interaction went a bit like this:

You: “Heya, you're the emo kid, right? I’m new! So, where’s our cabin?” 

Nico: “Uh… you're supposed to go that way.”

You: “No, that’s the Iris cabin, at least that’s what Chiron said. I’m your new sibling, by the way. Chiron said we have one in Rome too! 

Nico: I- well, yes, I- we do.

You: Are they as grumpy looking as you?

-Needless to say you got off to a great start. Nico proceeded to dump your bags on one of the beds, which has a zebra print doona matching one of your headbands, and then left immediately. You shrugged it off, obviously, and started stacking your things on the coffin shaped bookshelves. You ignored the candle that was supposed to smell like ‘the souls of the damned’, and put your own flowery one next to it. 

-You found out you loved arts and crafts, where you made friendship bracelets with Lacy, as well as pegasi riding. You saw Nico once, and he waved awkwardly, but went back to the small child he was glaring at quickly. You quickly became attached to a creamy coloured mare called macaroni as well, but Butch wouldn’t let her sleep in your cabin. He did take a friendship bracelet, though. And he let you weave daisy chains into macaroni’s mane and tail, so you liked him. 

-You had brought a musty old record player with you after finding out that there was no wifi, but you had to pause ‘Washing Machine Heart’ [by Mitski, of course] when Nico came trudging into the now bright cabin. You’d opened all the curtains and taken the spiders that fell from them outside, dumping them in the bushes behind the Athena cabin. 

-Nico stared at the squishmellows on your bed and then the dreamcatcher by one of the windows, and the row of brightly coloured converse with striped laces lined up by his three different pairs of black Doc Martens. 

-He shrugged his jacket off and went straight into the bathroom, leaving a little trail of muddy footsteps along the heart shaped rug you’d put down.

-He was just adjusting to a roommate, you told yourself. It wasn’t anything to do with you personally. You hadn’t done anything wrong, maybe you should just give him a bit of space. That was a good idea. Leave him alone for a bit until he was used to you, and don’t take it to heart. 

»»————-　★　————-««

-You took it to heart.

»»————-　★　————-««

-Months had passed, and you were thankful for the Ipad Piper [she was so nice, and she let you borrow her Olivia Rodrigo records] lent you so you could facetime the family and friends you had left behind occasionally. They had seemed to adjust to you not being there anymore, now that you knew you were a child of Hades, the outside world was too dangerous to risk. You tried not to take that to heart either.

-Macaroni was getting used to the beaded bridle you’d made her, but you were still training her to get used to flying around while you used your new weapons.

-Nyssa had helped you make them, able to actually craft a design after glancing at you scribbled drawing with glitter gel pens that you really had worked hard on. Now you had a sparkly belt with three attachments, that you could click in your spray cans too. The cans were filled with different coloured paint, only the base liquid was melted down celestial bronze flakes, so when you fought a monster, which you were still learning to do, it would seep into their eyes and turn them blind, or crack through their skin and dissolve them. You loved the spray cans.

-Drew had warmed up to you as well, and you were even invited to Barbie premier night in Cabin ten. You got to wear your sparkly leg warmers and the cropped leather jacket in a light shade of pink.

-You were making your way to the arts and crafts center with a box of clay and little paint brushes in your arms to run the pottery class [you’d been elected as head of arts and crafts pretty quickly, shared with Elsa, one of the Athena kids who specialize in weaving and sewed the cutest pajama pants] when you bumped into Nico.

-Literally. 

-The box may have been a few heads taller than you, so it wasn’t really your fault, but Nico still snapped at you. 

-You gathered up the little tubs of paint from the grass and apologized quickly, your chest tight with anxiety. You hurried away after that, ignoring your brother as he tried to explain he hadn’t realized it was you when he hissed curse words Drew had started teaching Harley and Lacy. 

-The class went well, the scrunchies Elsa was making her girlfriend for her birthday went along well, and a few more kids than usual showed up, taking lumps of clay from the tray and working it into figures on their tables. You were making beads that you’d string onto a bracelet for Nyssa, because she always broke the plastic ones with hammers and drills accidentally.

-You thought back to your interaction with Nico and regretted it dearly. Maybe if you’d just heard him out or even apologized and blamed yourself, he might’ve come to your class to see your works, or sat with you at dinner, or even just waved from across the infirmary when you went to get panadol for your headaches. 

-You knew you got them from straining your eyes to read and draw in the dim cabin, but whenever you opened the curtains or switched on your blue lamp with a cloudy pattern that you hadn’t got to use yet, Nico cleared out completely. 

-It wasn’t your fault, you reminded yourself, you were just… too different.

-People started filing out after putting their creations to the side, you complimented each of their idea’s even though you felt like getting some Ben and Jerry’s from the camp shop and curling up in bed to watch ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ again. 

-The beads for Nyssa were nearly done, so you went to find a container to pop them in.

-When you got back, they had been ground into the bench until the delicate tracing of different things Nyssa likes were just shapeless brown blobs. An Ares kid, Grey, was standing with their arms crossed and a smirk on their face, which was mostly obscured by a nose that had been broken too many times.

-You stared down at the squashed clay and felt your eyes prickle with tears.

-Grey jeered at you, calling you things you’d rather not hear again, because they only made the tears fall. You rubbed your nose and smoothed the front of your tye-dyed camp shirt flat. Grey called after you, something about being a ‘rainbow prissy’. You stumbled out of the center.

-Nico wasn’t in your cabin when you slammed the door behind you, thankfully, and you hopped into bed, kicking your yellow converse off and pulling the doona over your head so you didn’t have to look at the skull filled walls around you.

-It was so dark, it was so dark and shadowy and there were bones you were too scared to ask about their origins lining the mirror in the bathroom you kept seeing things behind you in. Your crocheted blanket that used to sit across the black doona cover had been folded up a while ago and placed back in your suitcase, along with a few of the more multicolored posters and the fruity scented candles that seemed to annoy your half brother. 

-You rubbed your eyes with your sleeves and held your hand over your mouth so Nico wouldn’t hear crying when he would eventually come back a few hours later, late enough that you could pretend to be asleep. 

»»————-　★　————-««

-The infirmary was busy with bleeding and laughing demigods when you wandered in looking for some panadol. Your headache was making it hard to think straight, but whenever you cried too much you got one, so you knew what to do by now. 

-Will waved from over from where he was pulling a ruler, a stapler, and a glue stick out of the stomach of an Iris kid who was giggling the entire time, coughing up glitter. He grimaced when a chunk of glue hit his face. You waved back and turned the corner, heading to the rooms at the back where Austin would be. He usually had the panadol. 

-Someone groaned in the corner, and you spotted Grey. 

-They looked like a soggy bag of a human, their mauled nose the only definable shape. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from the grotesque demigod blob.

-Austin shuffled up behind you with a grimace, passing over a few pills and a glass of water without looking away. You gulped them down quickly as Grey let out another moan and rolled a bit on their hospital bed. Austin told you that he’d been spotted on the floor of the Arts and crafts center. 

-Apparently, every few minutes one of his bones would disappear.

-It was only a few fingers at the start, then most of his ribs couldn’t be found and there was something wrong with his mouth, which Austin found out meant his jaw had decided to not be there. 

-A screechy sound came from the front of the infirmary, and you both looked to the door, which Clarrise was dragging Nico through, holding him up by the back of his jacket. He pummeled at the chunky daughter of Ares, but couldn’t get out of her grip. Clarrise glared around at the staring demigods and snarled, “why is this little shit de-boning Grey?”

-You didn’t know who yelled ‘that’s what she said’ from across the room.

-”Because they deserve it.” Nico hissed a bit like a cat, glaring up at Clarisse with narrowed brown eyes underneath his floppy hair.  

-Will ran up to the pair, brushing glitter off his gloved hands onto his scrubs instead. He folded his arms and stared Clarrise down until she finally let go of Nico, who dropped to the ground and then sprung back up, wrinkling his nose at the daughter of Ares, who just stuck her tongue back out at him. 

-Will pinched his nose, “Clarisse, more people come in here because of you then Nico, so you don’t get to talk. Nico, just fix them, they’re too annoying to be kept in here.”

-”But people deserved to be punched by me,” Clarrise argued with a scoff.

-”And Grey deserves to lose their bones!” Nico shot back, glaring up at Clarisse and balling his fists, “they stepped on my siblings clay stuff!”

»»————-　★　————-««

-You yawned and stretched your arms out above your head, then blinked up at the roof with bleary eyes. The skulls were gone, now it was just black concrete. You rolled over a moment later and stuffed your head back into your pillow, pulling your crocheted blanket back over your head.

-There was a ‘shing’ sound as curtains were yanked open, and you just sunk further into your comfy bed, ignoring the bright beams of early morning sunshine that streamed in and lit up the dark cabin. It made the rainbow rug in the center of the cabin even brighter, and you groaned loudly in protest. “Whaddaya even doing up so early? Go back to bed you vampire!”

-”It’s only six am?”

-”You’re more of a psychopath then I thought before,” you muttered, but made sure you were loud enough that your brother could hear you as he padded round the cabin getting changed and ready for his much too early start to the day. 

-Nico huffed and the bathroom door shut as he completely ignored the hairbrush you’d given him to passive aggressively deal with his scruffy black hair. “Leo forgot the code to the safe in the big house that he changed when he was hiding those icey poles from Piper.”

-”And how are you supposed to help him remember?”

-Nico’s boots were loud on the floorboards as he trotted over. He kissed you on the forehead gently, “oh I’m not, I’m gonna go watch him suffer the consequences with Jason.”

»»————-　★　————-««

[balkanradfem]

I keep thinking everyone knows the exact same information as me, but since I'm about to make more posts about textiles and clothing, as I'm reading the book on them, I'm going to write down some basic information, just in case it's not very common, because a lot of this I only gathered recently. If I get something wrong please correct me in a kind way!

So where does the clothing come from, and how do we make it? During most of the history, textiles were made by women, from natural materials; flax, wool, cotton, silk, jute. Recently we started using more synthetic materials, like acrylic, polyester, nylon, spandex. If you want to make clothing from the natural materials, like wool or cotton, they first need to be processed, cleaned and combed, then spun into yarn, or thread. Spinning is the process where women manage to pull a thin part of the material and spin the fibres into one consistent, firm thread. It's super impressive to watch them do it and I have no idea how they manage to make it consistent, I've not yet tried to do it myself.

Once the thread is done, it can be made into a textile by knitting, crochet, or weaving. There are also other more complex, decorative methods, like tatting or lacing.

For knitting, you need two needles, or a special circular needle, or, there are also knitting machines, which you can use to make woolen fabric. For weaving, you need a loom. For crochet, you need a crochet hook. While knitting and weaving can be done by a machine, crochet can only be done by hand. Woven fabrics are firm, sturdy, durable, and not stretchy, while knit fabric is the most stretchy and soft. I'm not sure about crochet since I only have one crochet garment, but mine is very sturdy!

All of these methods were historically done by women; families were able to grow flax plants close to their homes, and women would then create linens, woven textiles made from processed flax, which was used to make sheets and clothing. Linen was specifically useful in keeping people clean, since it's very good at absorbing moisture. Used as an under-garment, it was capable of absorbing sweat, and protecting the outer layers, which were not washed. Experiments have shown that frequently changing into clean linen was more effective at keeping clean than showering and then putting on the same clothing back on.

Women's ability to create clothing was sadly exploited, and women were even banned to sell it commercially, or from competing at the commercial market, but their husbands were allowed to profit off of their craft.

In the USA, cotton was the most produced material, however for this too people were enslaved and exploited; cotton took human labour to grow, harvest and process, it also required a lot of water, and caused destruction of environment, because of the chemicals used in it's growth, and the unsustainability of monocrops.

Creating a piece of clothing out of textiles, or sewing, is a process that still cannot be completely automated; while you can use a sewing machine, you cannot make a machine that would produce a whole garment out of textiles. No mass-produced piece of clothing was sewn by a machine, it always has to be made by a human being. This is why a lot of the sewing labour is currently outsourced to third-world countries and companies use modern slavery in order to create fast fashion; there is no machine that can do it, so by the rules of capitalism, the companies are trying to get that labour as cheap as possible, often at the cost of human lives.

We didn't use to have as many garments as we do today, in the 18th century people would have two outfits, one for normal days of the week, and one for Sunday. The clothing they owned was usually made to fit them exactly, either by a female member of the family, or a seamstress, and these garments were made to last them for decades. As clothing became cheaper to buy than to make at home, and more of it became mass-produced, people started acquiring more of it, but also using it for lesser period of time. This would eventually grow into a bigger problem, due to the amount of chemicals and labour used to grow, process, dye and sew the garments, and the amount of waste we were starting to accumulate.

Introduction of synthetic materials, like acrylic, made the yarn and the textiles much cheaper, however it lacks the important properties natural materials have. Do you ever notice how synthetic garments sometimes continue smelling bad even after you wash them? That is because they'll absorb sweat, but become hydrophobic when wet, meaning they will take in your sweat, but refuse to let it go once they're in the water. This means that the longer you have them, the worst their stink becomes. This, of course, can be hidden by the generous use of scented fabric softener, but it won't exactly make the garment clean. This information I've learned recently, but it helped me identify what were the most synthetic pieces of clothing I had. Acrylic clothing had also proven to shed 1.5 more microplastics than any other polyester when put into the washing machine.

Having our clothing grown, processed, spun, woven/knit, and then sewn far out of sight, it's possible to lose the sight of where it came from, or how it's made. Only by trying to do it yourself, or learning closely about the process can one learn to appreciate what a monumental task it is, to create fabric, or a garment. Other than the synthetic textiles, of which I still know very little of, all of the natural clothing is a product of plants and animals, it takes land, farming, agriculture and water to grow the plants, raise the animals, and then labour to process and spin the fibres. It's also something people used to do in their gardens, inside of their homes, something that was normal for women to do, and to trade for anything else they needed, saving them from having to work for wages. Women making fabric was always to the benefit of everyone around them, while m*n taking over the industry and doing it commercially, ultimately brought slave labour to a lot of people, cheap and low quality garments to the select few, and money to the hands of the exploiters.

Being curious about clothing and what becomes of it, is a big benefit to the environment and the future of the earth! Knowing what the textile industry is doing, and how does it affect the planet, can be a great motivator to try and sew, or upcycle and mend clothing, or create garments. It's presented to us as something women were forced to do in the past, and it's connected to 'feminine hobbies', but in actuality, it is power to create something humans cannot do without. Women in the past used it's power too, whenever they could. And we are the only ones who ever used this power for good.

[thedoodwithamic]

My Transformers: ONE Verdict

Apart from the brief action-filled moments, Transformers: One becomes an even more poignant watch because of the story’s overarching narrative: the forming rift between Orion Pax and D-16. The movie definitely takes liberties with the origins of these characters but it still manages to weave them together to make a compelling story. 

The scene where they get their upgrades already paints the picture of Orion Pax and D-16’s falling out - that they’re starting to become too different from each other. Here, D-16 thinks they should annihilate Sentinel for what he did while Orion Pax thinks otherwise. 

The funny thing about a film like this is that it’s one of the last few features you’d expect to make you feel sad or cry. It’s a story about alien robots who work the tough shifts, turning into their war machine forms to cap off the story. Yet it makes you shed a tear because the story leans so much on the brotherhood of Optimus and Megatron early on. They’ll do anything for each other - they have arguments and disagreements but it was clear that they both wanted a brighter future for Cybertron and all of the Transformers. 

This actually reminds me of what happened to Professor X and Magneto in X-Men First Class - similar dynamics with sweet emotional payoffs as well.

The animation of the film is a huge plus. Transformers: One features some of the most vibrant environmental shots I’ve ever seen in animated features - and I’ve seen the Spiderverse animations. Cybertron is given a look that I never expected and it almost feels like a lovely blend of all the aesthetics that Transformers has ever used.  Finally -

My verdict for a film usually stems from how it made me feel and what it attempted to do for me. 

And it was everything that I've wanted from a Transformers film from the very start. It was on Cybertron, it was action packed and it added to the lore in its own way without copying everything straight-up from other sources. The movie features likable characters with understandable objectives, perfectly laced with spectacle for those that like seeing Transformers duke it out. 

Definitely a positive experience coming in to watch this film and I left the cinema buzzing about it even more. I’ve heard that this is going to be part of a new trilogy of Transformers films so I do hope that if that’s the case, they give us more stories within this part of the universe. 

Who knows? Maybe we’ll get more Optimus vs Megatron - we may get the combiners and hopefully the Dinobots as well because they would look badass in this universe.

[3584-tropical-fish]

“Inside was a young woman I did not recognize, sat at what I would later learn was an old-fashioned wooden loom. Her eyes and face were sunken, her hands and arms a blur as the machine pressed on. They arced over and through the loom, and I could see much of her inner forearms and legs were covered in tiny holes, small red pinpricks like insect bites.

Looking back, of course, and remembering the crunch of used syringes beneath my feet, I realize that addiction is one of the strongest vectors of control there is.

The woman looked up at me, disinterested, and I saw that the threads of the loom were laced into her skin, all through her track marks, and that dozens of spiders ran up and down those weaving threads and scurried in and out of the holes in her skin.”

Day 29: Spider