#THREADING

[2001hz]

Kazu Toki: 'Wind, Moon and Flower' (1989)

Five layers of fabric been woven on a handloom (opposite), using the five different colored threads traditional in japan together with fiber optic, used in the industry as a transmitter of light. 'Pushing', 'polishing'or 'slashing' the fabric shifts the fibres to create the ambiguous shimmenng shapes. The artist worked on this piece in collaboration with the weaving studio Nozakiorisho Inc. and the textile company Toray Inc.

[rhaenaspearls]

The Taste of Your Lips is My Idea of Luxury

(Closed starter for @aemond-one-eyed)

His voice echoed in her mind for five days straight.

"No thanks needed Princess, I am glad I could be of help to you." "Because you were busy putting others first, as you always do." “My father is dead…and I fucked up.” "And you're twice as pretty as most people claim." "Thank you, your Highness."

It began the night of the ball to welcome Lady Jeyne's host. Rhaena must've stood dumbfounded in her doorway for a solid thirty seconds, stunned by Aemond's presence, by the gown in his hands, by the fact he had mended it, and even more so that it looked perfect. "I don't know how to begin to thank you," She finally managed to stutter out, taking the black lace and pink pearl gown out of his hands, staring at the garment as if he'd presented her with the same made of solid gold. He had simply smiled, "Promise to wear it...and promise you'll dance with me at least once tonight." "You have my word," she responded breathlessly. Then he left and she slid down the back of the door with the gown still in her hands.

Rhaena lied to her twin and her Muna about how the dress got fixed, telling both her lady-in-waiting and closest friend since the age of six, Lacey Vance, had fixed it that morning. Hours passed the way any typical day would when a ball was to be held that evening, she helped all her siblings get ready, did Baela's cosmetics, and her own hair while her sister repaid the favor, before spending a long while entertaining young heirs, knights, and lordlings all seeking to win her favor, but not searching to know her.

“I was right to want to see you in that dress.” Aemond spoke in barely more than a whisper when he took her next dance with little more than a look towards the heir to House Webber. "You look lovely," She told him, and she meant it, he'd changed into similarly all-black but significantly more formal clothes. After thinking about it for a moment, Rhaena realized this was perhaps the first time she'd ever seen the Prince dressed for an occasion, and it briefly made her breath catch in her throat, just briefly. He stayed with her for two dances, anything else would seem improper, they gossiped lightly about the guests, but mostly passed the time celebrating how perfectly their plans had come to fruition. "I shall see you soon." The tone of his voice made the response to Rhaena pointing out they had reached the end of the time they could properly spend together that night sound like a promise. "I would like that very much, my Prince." Her heart quickened as she used the title, she had said the phrase more times than she could count, but it meant something it never had before; something that no longer meant my liege, but veered closer to my love. Then she walked off to go find Joffrey before Aemond could see her blush.

His voice echoed in her mind for five days straight.

"I'm quite interested in seeing you in it." "If it upsets you, then it does matter." "I think I would trip over your sister again trying to get to our room." "And I'd still rather look a fool than a would-be traitor!" "Then it'll be a pleasure to see you again when you are."

Rhaena did not see Aemond the following day, nor had she expected to, and the following was the same, despite a small, quiet part of her secretly hoping that against both odds and logic, she might. That night, however, when her world was fracturing, reforming, and shifting into something entirely new, faster than she could ever even hope to keep up, was the last moment she was anticipating his presence. Yet, in the hours between dusk and daylight, something solidified between the two of them, something she could hold onto as the ground was shifting under her feet faster than quick sand, something that scared her more than she had ever felt before. How terrifying, Rhaena mused in the silence of her room as she dressed to attend The Queen for the first time, To have something that is not mine...and yet...I am desperate to keep.

She found herself willing him to speak to her, longing for it, though she would not admit such a thing even to herself, as she stood beside her father, siblings, and their new Queen in the long hours of Lords renewing their oaths. Rhaena almost called for Aemond as the Throne Room began to clear of it's final occupants to swear their loyalty, but she could not form the words, she could not risk making herself so known in a hall still filled with over a hundred people. Two more days passed and she did not see him, she'd dared to hope they would run into each other when she went to the Dragon Pit to ride with Silverwing, only to silently curse herself that it was a foolish wish to begin with, because Vhagar had been too large to nest in the pit even before her mother had ridden the Queen of Dragons. That was another thing Rhaena could not express, or admit, even to herself; the thought of Vhagar, her mother's dragon, his dragon...he spoke of her the same, begrudgingly fawned over the beast in the way her Lady-Mother had in her youth...Gods his clothes even smelled the same. It was infuriating, intoxicating, and unreasonably, horribly inticing.

Speaking to Rhaenyra about Aemond the night before the funeral was a relief that nearly brought her to tears, and once her Muna offered the advice she believed her mother would've given in the situation, she did cry from the weight of it all. The following day was the funeral, the first public appearance of the new Queen, the beginning of the end of the long, winding road of mourning for the old King...the first time she and Aemond would be in the same place at the same time since the first morning with Viserys gone from the world, and all the implications that came with that. Her mind was made up before she'd even gotten out of bed the following morning, she was going to find Aemond, to speak with him, to come to some sort of understanding, to simply even begin the process of where they were to go from here when his voice has been occupying every corner of her mind for the past five days.

After the procession, the procedure, and propriety of the funeral ceremony, the proceedings had not even officially come to a close, much less had Rhaena gotten the chance to seek out Aemond, when suddenly she heard the sneering voices of several Lords not much older than herself. They were gossiping, and it was with a skip of her heart, that quickly caused a pit to form in her stomach, with which she realized the Lordlings' snide voices were speaking about her. "Have you seen the girl since this last time the King took ill? With Princess Helaena running her own court now and the new Queen too occupied doing two jobs both meant for a man it's no wonder she believes she's holding this place together, I think she actually may be doing so more than anybody'd like to admit. I mean, her Ladyship is clearly used to doing her stepmother's duty, more of a mother to those children her highness seems so determined to continue popping out while dressing like a whore and acting like a man; at least Rhaena seems to have developed the makings of a proper Princess, if only she'd stop to listen to all those people trying to teach her to keep her mouth shut."

His voice had been echoing in her mind for five days straight, so when she turned to confront the Lord who had the audacity to snicker gossip in her earshot, only to hear the Prince's voice, piping up to defend her, her heart nearly stopped. Suddenly his arm was around her waist as the Prince said words she could barely understand, and for the first time in five days, Rhaena was glad to hear Aemond's voice.

[black-queen-rising]

This Council is Hereby Called To Order

(Starter for an ensemble scene within @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood)

Since the dragons first landed in Westeros, one truth has remained foremost within the halls the Red Keep and at the heart of the power held by the Targaryen Crown; The Small Council of the ruling King or Queen were the only members of the court who truly had the ear of their kingdom's monarch.

"You must ensure you arrive after the Lords have had enough time to treat with one another, without allowing their negotiations to turn to madness."

Rhaenyra was skeptical of most of the advice her late father had provided on matters of ruling; the decade she spent as Hand, in truth, ruling in his stead, was more formative of an education than any advice the late King had seen fit to provide. On this matter, however, she had found the guidance sound, and arrived precisely ten minutes after the Lords of her small council had been called to arrive. The new Queen entered in a whirl of silver-gold curls and burgundy toned silk, taking the seat at the head of the long, oak table that filled most of the small council chamber as if it had belonged to Rhaenyra all her life. After all, had it not in so many ways? It was no secret she was still recovering from the attempt on her life, but none would no simply by looking at her, if there was one thing Westeros' first ruling Queen had honed to its pinnacle over her life, it was the presentation of perfection, regardless of what persisted underneath the veneer.

It took no more than a gentle clearing of her throat for the advisors gathered around the table to fall silent, then Rhaenyra offered a dazzling smile, and called the meeting to order. "Good morrow, my lords, ladies, you have my gratitude for your patience, so let us be prompt and see straight to our most pressing business of the day. I believe my Good-Father, Lord Corlys, has petitioned to take the floor first, then their is our Lady-Hand's agenda, updates I have been informed should liked to be discussed by Lord Dalton, Prince Daemon and Lady Mysaria, as well as Lord Cregan, regarding the loyalties of their respective lieges and some ruffled feathers that may need soothing in the Wastelands, and, of course, Prince Jacaerys Ser Stefan, and Prince Daeron's progress on the investigation into the...unfortunate interruption at His Grace, my Father's funeral feast," The Queen forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat that persisted whenever the attempt on her life was broached, even now nearly a moon hence, before concluding. "That said, my Lord Corlys, you have the floor."

Response order is as follows: @lordhusband @calla-celtigar @creganstarkrp @daltongreyjoy-rp @theladymysaria

@rogueprincedaemontarg @sersteffondarklyn @notatargaryenbastard @thedaringprince

[stunningladysam]

Don't You Worry Your Pretty Little Mind

(Starter for @alicenthightowerrp)

"The Queen is exemplary in her charity, you ought to learn all you can, and then more, from her, if you wish to earn the station of which you have been risen." The guidance of Samantha's mother, Lady Jeyne, originally of House Rowan, was a frequent companion in her thoughts. "An honorable woman gives much and more, she asks for little and less", "Make your good the good of all and no one may fault you for pursuing it", and, of course, "To make a man respect you is to have influence, to make him love you is power, learn the difference, it just might spare your neck one day."

It was good advice, far more often that not, practical, astute, and elaborative on the complex hierarchies and rituals one had to understand to thrive as a Lady of The Reach. It was an intrusive companion, however, and good advice flashing through her mind at a thoroughly wrong time was, in some ways, even worse than relying on poor guidance to begin with. No matter how intimidated, frustrated, exasperated, or dazzled Samantha may feel by Queen Alicent, she could not let it twist her tongue, not today, Seven, certainly not today.

The wheelhouse came to a stop somewhat abruptly on the uneven cobblestones of King's Landing's streets, and she swallowed a scoff, for all the praise Her Grace and all her Prince-Sons and Princess-Daughters had to give for Oldtown, they could do to follow their example in more every day practicalities than pretty words. Her nose crinkled briefly at the smell, too, as she stepped out onto the street in front of the capital city's central Sept; but she fixed her expression back to placidity before even the footman could catch a glimpse of her distaste. This is a day for charity, they will find only an embodiment of The Mother above when looking to you; Samantha half soothed, half scolded in her mind.

The coronation of the new Queen was to be held only a week after the Maiden's Day, the holiday itself officially taking place tomorrow, and it meant the charity expected from the Crown for the former and from every Lord to his subjects on the latter had coincided quite neatly. Samantha had volunteered herself to coordinate the almsgiving efforts at the Sept alongside the newly Dowager Queen a few days previous, and even with the worry bubbling in her chest, not to mention the concern she felt over what seemed to be expected unruliness from the crowd that appeared to have only begun to properly gathered, could stop how pleased she felt with the decision to throw her efforts the past week into what some may consider thankless work. They will find you beside their Queen of all these years, doing the work of The Gods, any who claim either of you have risen above your station, will surely provide the decency of a brief silence after your work today, and the praise will sound even better.

On spotting Queen Alicent and her circle of guards and attendants, Samantha hastened over to her as fast as she could manage while still maintaining her grace with her own, smaller retinue in tow. As the lady of House Hightower came face to face with her superior, she curtsied long and low, the periwinkle and silver embroidered silk of her gown pooling around her as she dared to hope the opals, emeralds, jade, moonstone, and gold of her seven-pointed star necklace, earrings, and even identically shaped pins her ladies maids had affixed in the twists of the front of her elaborate half-up, half-down hairstyle, that still left dark golden waves tumbling down her back, and was by far the most popular choice for ladies in The Reach over the past several years, reflected off the sun shining above. Perhaps, she would have the luck for them to achieve their intended purpose today, and dazzle with light disciples of their Faith would automatically identify as a sign of The Gods' approval.

When Samantha rose once more, she stepped forward, embracing Queen Alicent gently, with a cheerful, "Your Grace, Cousin!" kissing close, but not fully against each of her cheeks as she added, "What a blessedly beautiful day we have been granted to share in the gifts of our Gods!" Returning to a more respectable distance, she added with a still bright, but more serious tone, "You have my deepest sympathies and condolences once more for your loss, we are all, of course, lesser for the loss of such a great man, and great King, as your late Viserys. That you have seen fit and found the strength to grace the common folk with not only your presence but your charity, is honorable beyond words, Your Grace. I am deeply grateful to call you my better and even more privileged that we are of one House."

[cryptid-stimming]

Look-It! It’s Freakin’ Bats! (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) Stimboard

x x x / x x x / x x x

[Image ID: a 9 gif stimboard; from left to right. First line: a gif of an animated bat unfurling its wings and dancing in front of a full moon, a gif of paper bats hanging from the roof of a porch and swaying in the wind over a car and a gif of hands threading a wing shape in a hanging bat macrame. Second line: a gif of a hand sticking paper bats inside a sheer lampshade to create bat silhouettes, a gif of a child sitting in front of a wall of paper bats and a gif of a hand adhering a paper bat to a wall. Third line: a gif of a hand making a paper bat dance from side to side, a close up gif of a needle in a sewing machine embroidering bats and a moon onto fabric and a gif of an animated bat dancing across a branch in front of a full moon. End of image description.]

[5leggedlamb]

Ok so I tried it with thicker thread and omg this thing looks as if it's going to last me 5 generations what the hell

[euesworld]

"Fluffy clouds couldn't be softer than your lovely voice, threading through me like sunshine.."

Your voice is so soft the way it touches the beat of my heart and leaves me completely thrilled - eUë

[bellarina9]

selfie x 8

[bhartieyebrowthreading]

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[2001hz]

Kawashima (2001) Location: Tokyo, Japan Photography By: Satoshi Asakawa

‘I wanted people to see the simple beauty, so I adopted it as a symbol in the spatial composition’

[rhaenaspearls]

Half of My Heart

(A starter for @moondancer-rp)

Rhaena had always been a habitually early riser, one of the many juxtapositions between herself and her twin, Baela; ever since the Dragon Twins were small, their father had joked, "If Rhaena rises with the sun, then Baela is roused by the bells for lunch." It was hyperbole, to be sure, but then again, so many of the perceived opposite ends of each twin's personality were once anyone cared enough to look past the surface. Rhaena preferred bright colors, and Baela dark, Rhaena would rather embroider while Baela played cards, an early riser compared to late, even one's hair was dark, while the other's was Targaryen silver.

That was only the surface, however, because from the moment of their first spark of life, to now twenty years on, there was no company the Dragon Twins favored more than one another. Whether it was Baela sitting through hours of gowns and cosmetics just to spend the time with her sister or Rhaena as her twin's ever enthusiastic accomplice to her practical jokes, what they did rarely mattered as long as they were doing it together; though, since Rhaena claimed Good Queen Alysanne's former mount, Silverwing, four years ago, both were in firm agreement there was no better activity to share than flying amongst the clouds.

As the early riser, it was common for Rhaena to wake her sister by jumping on the end of her bed, with breakfast in tow, and their day's agenda already fully formulated and regimented in her mind, and this morning was no different...well, mostly. "Morning Mandia!!" She spoke brightly as on entering Baela's chambers, pointed to a clear table for the two maids following close behind her to put the breakfast trays stocked with all their combined favorites, and then plunked down on the edge of the dark crimson duvet. The day before her sister had explained the plan she had been formulating to treat with many of their Kingdom's young heirs in order to strengthen bonds and alliances to create the best possible start for all of them in their new Queen's reign.

As was the case for so many of their contrasting interests and talents, Rhaena and Baela were two halves of one whole when it came to the machinations of court and the intersection of the precise science and complex art that was excelling in politics. Her sister was practical, intuitive, equipped with a better view of big picture matters could ever dream to have, and a fast learner of every lesson their stepmother Rhaenyra and their grandmother Rhaenys had to teach; Rhaena, in turn, was charming and sociable, a master in the details, and had a special knack for knowing exactly what the person in front of her wanted to hear. Alone, the Dragon Twins were a talented strategist and a dazzling socialite, but together, they were quickly becoming the greatest political force Westeros had seen since the reign of Queens Visenya and Rhaenys.

"So! I was thinking about our conversation last night, and about all these plans for strengthening all alliances, once again, masterful, I meant it when I said this may be your most ingenious idea to date! And you know any and everything you might need for your meetings all you need do is ask, I'll be waiting eagerly for which you'd like me to attend, but you know the last thing I want is to get in your way." Rhaena had frequently absented herself from the most technical and strategic political matters so important to their family, she would only be one more cook in the kitchen, and her talents mainly laid in a different set of pursuits, but there was nothing in this world she would rather spend her time doing than supporting her twin in whatever way she may need. "While you start to build these foundations, though, I had some ideas about how to get us all working better together. At least one garden party seems a sensible place to start, and it seems worthwhile to coordinate a day's hunt as well, especially to please our young Stark and Tully envoys, but really our key goal ought to be working towards coordinating an event to honor our Ladies and another for our Lords, and before that, figuring out what kind of event will go over best for each!"

Then, the younger twin paused, sitting back on her heels, and looked at her sister intently as she giggled softly, "All that said, what's been on your mind lately?"

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[momnmebeautylounge]

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[stunningladysam]

Welcome to the Top of the World

(Starter with @sabithafrey-rp)

“Are you excited to go play with our new friends?” Samantha’s hand was hung low towards the ground, a small hand wrapped around her first two fingers, as she escorted her youngest child, Leyla, from their own family’s apartments to the royal nursery, where the youngest of the new Queen’s children spent their days training and playing alongside those of her ladies-in-waiting. She had sent a note, hoping to strike up a dialogue with Lady Sabitha Frey, the Lady of The Twins and mother to it’s heir, which was in turn answered with an invitation to join both mother and son in the chamber Samantha and Leyla were now headed towards.

“Yah, yah,” The four year old nodded her head vigorously, then tilted her gaze up towards her mother, met with a smile across her lips. She let go of her hand and held her arms, little fingers grabbing towards the air as she hoped, “Up, up?”

“Not this time, bunny,” Samantha’s smile faded slightly before she promised, “If you can walk like a big girl to go see Theo and Lady Sabitha, we’ll walk with you up the whole way back, would that be alright?”

Leyla nodded in the same energetic motion, wrapping her hand back around those two fingers on Samantha’s left hand as they resumed walking, and her mother praised, “That’s my good girl.” In truth, her littlest had been good all day, she had only pouted for a moment when asked to wear a silvery-grey dress representative of their house, rather than the bright yellows and pinks she favored most, left the little braided crown Samantha had styled her reddish-blonde hair into alone all day so far, and even now had remained happy to agree to her mother’s compromise; she should go about seeing if one or two of those little honey cakes the kitchens seemed to always keep extra of to appease the youngest members of their court could be set aside for Leyla’s dinner.

“And you remember what we talked about? You must make sure you’re listening when you go play together. Theo is like Alyn, it will be different because he can see, but he has difficulties too, so just like with Alyn you have to remember he can’t run as fast or play as long as you can, let him set the speed and stop if that is what he asks.”

“Yah, yah,” Leyla responded once more. One of her cousins, the son of Lord Ormund’s older daughter with his second wife, Rosey Mullendore, survived a summer fever when he was not quite two and lost the majority of his vision to the illness, and Samantha hoped greatly that both her experience and fondness for another playmate who had difficulties with some of the most normal things for most children, would make Leyla a promising companion for the future Lord of the second wealthiest House in the Riverlands.

Selyse was beautiful in a way Samantha never became, and Sansara was charming in a manner that took the youngest of the three sisters many years into her marriage to find within herself. Warryn and Robyn would not be sent away to The Citadel or The Faith because their father’s use for them vanished several decades before their birth, nor would Joy and Leyla find themselves bedmates to disinterested Lords with heirs and spares abound before they’d even grown into maidens. Samantha had been risen higher by their liege lord’s lust, and she would not see her legacy reduced to disposable sacrifices of allegiance or piety because of some expected deference to a man who could’ve just as easily taken a mistress or bought a couple hundred whores to serve the purpose he imposed on her life for the sake of his cock.

The Lady of House Hightower entered the royal nursery with a wide smile and a flurry of gauzy silver-grey skirts that she hoped Lady Sabitha would take as a show of good faith to their respective Houses shared interests and colors. They pooled around her as she sat down beside the woman she knew from the many events they had shared in attendance since the true Hightowers arrived to the Red Keep’s Court. Leyla came running up close behind her, then plopped down next to the small boy only inches away from his mother’s skirts, and became very still, offering a large grin paired with a gentle, “Hi, hi.”

Samantha smiled, offering, “Leyla’s developed a bit of a habit for telling us everything in two’s lately. It is a pleasure and a privilege to meet you, my Lady, you may call me Sam if it pleases, most everybody does. I must say it was a joy to receive your invitation for dear Leyla and your sweet Theo to play together, I’m blessed by your kindness, and I hope we might become fast friends as easily as our little ones. And forgive me, for being so bold, but your gown is dazzling, my Lady, your taste alone proves clear as day why the new Queen herself has prized your companionship as of late.”

[soracities]

"Absolutely no one comes to save us but us."

Ismatu Gwendolyn, "you've been traumatized into hating reading (and it makes you easier to oppress)", from Threadings, on Substack [ID'd]

[5leggedlamb]

I tried a more complicated pattern and uuuuuh

It looks like something alright...

But that's OK. Things you craft don't have to be perfect, especially if you're doing it for the first time. Be proud of trying something new.