#chainmail patterns

[streetmaille]

Color the snowy days away with these printable chainmail coloring pages! Great for designing inlays and patterns ❄️☃️

Get the downloadable coloring pages here: https://streetmaille.etsy.com/listing/1376149245 

[pippenpaddlopsicopolisthethird]

My dissertation is in the final stages and I really need to be putting a lot of focus onto this draft to get it as close as possible to completed by next week.

Which means of course that my brain is desperate to focus on anything that ISN'T the draft. I've learned long ago that trying to Only focus on the important thing doesn't work at all, but I very can't ignore it.

Only solution is to reward the bits of Important Draft Work with bits of Fun Escape Project. Between checking data points and rewording results for precision, I'm fiddling with trying to invent a pattern for a crocheted chain mail coif!

It looks like a pretty basic pattern in the round. I found a vintage doily pattern from 1940 to give me an idea of how to start. The center of the top of the head is done in filet stitch, which looks squarer than I'd like but is pretty secure and will probably feel more comfortable on the top of the head. Then I'll move over to a chain netting stitch, which will hopefully give me more of a round look.

Here's what I'm starting with; I think that the next round is when I'll move over to the netting.

I'll update with progress as I go! I may end up with a usable pattern too!

[waffliesinyoface]

watching the lotr bonus documentary on youtube (why the fuck wasnt it on the 4k collection warner brothers, you hacks) and feeling a deep sadness and longing that that level of meticulous detail and craftsmanship and love just simply likely won't exist on that scale ever again.

you know, much like how the elves feel in lotr. the light has faded.

it especially kills me because i'm training to be a carpenter who can make quality furniture. and i live someplace with lots and lots of studios. making real-ass wood furniture specifically designed to be fancy setpieces would be incredible. but lol no the industry doesnt care about artisans anymore, get fucked

[aworldofpattern]

Metallic links top at Loewe SS25

[hyah-lian]

I am starting to make the biggest project I have ever done and it will be an eyesore

I am so excited

This is not loz/aus related but gdi I am.proud and excited so!

These are also only HALF the rounds I was supposed to do (I was supposed to use laceweight/crochet thread but I didn't want to lol) which is super fun bc that means it's gonna take half the time I thought it would

[attila-werther]

doing my own artistic reconstructions of the middle to late republic (and eventually, late empire) army and lemme tell you. if I ever have to draw chainmail ever again (I will) I'm going to scream (I am)

also I miss the era of forums. shout out to all these guys in a larp/reenactment forum from 2006 for posting close ups of their armor reconstructions from multiple angles to show how it all comes together, I owe you my fucking life

[vraska-theunseen]

(gets into a hobby that's very complicated and has limited documented instruction for everything i want to learn the farther and more niche i get into it just bc of the nature of a lot of the more complicated things i find are uploaded by one person who didn't make a tutorial) what the fuck. why is this hard

[categorised-art-tutorials-tips]

Drawing Chainmail Material Tips

Credit: Etherington Brothers

[maziodyne]

there are two types of laurance fans: the ones with the ginger era pfp or the catboy era pfp

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

Looking at my list of skills and hobbies and thinking fuck I need to get weirder.

[streetmaille]

Recently added these chainmail coloring pages to my shop 📓 I love the woven rings design so much I reworked some of my graphics into printer friendly coloring pages. Check them out here: https://www.streetmaille.etsy.com/listing/1376149245

[collectedinspirations]

Alexander McQueen’s Autumn/Winter 1998 collection ‘Joan’

[aworldofpattern]

Heart motifs at Jeremy Scott, SS12

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

While researching for upcoming fish facts I ended up going down a rabbit hole on parrotfish teeth, and I need to share this information in another form than just a fish fact. This stuff is unbelievable. You know the beak of the parrotfish, right? It's formed from the fused teeth of the parrotfish, as an adaptation to have ample biting surface to scrape off and chew on coral, their main food source.

A close-up of the beak of a parrotfish. It has this honeycomb pattern which I find very cool.

Well. To constantly chew on coral, they must have some pretty hard teeth, right? And they indeed do: the teeth of the parrotfish are made up of a mineral called fluorapatite, which forms intricate, chainmail-like woven structures on a microscopic level. Fluorapatite just so happens to be the second hardest biomineral found. This stuff, the parrotfish's teeth? A square inch of the parrotfish's teeth can withstand a whopping 530 TONS OF PRESSURE!!! That's the weight of 88 ELEPHANTS on top of a single square inch!!!! That's crazy, right!!?? The only biomineral that is tougher is the teeth of chitons, that is the single tougher biological thing in the whole world!!! Not only that, but the stiffness and hardness of the teeth increases the more we get closer to the tip (as the mineral fibers get closer and closer to one another), the very tips of the teeth even surpass the chiton teeth in stiffness!!!

Here are pictures produced through a process called PIC mapping, which shows the size and orientation of crystal fibers at the tip of the teeth.

That feels like it shouldn't be right, no? You'd think that the toughest biominerals in the world would belong to, like, the skull of an animal that rams into rocks or maybe the shell of some animal, not the teeth! The teeth of chitons and parrotfish out of all animals no less! Who would've guessed that the diet of "rock animal" would make the parrotfish require some of the toughest dentition the world has ever seen, huh? That right there is one super good reason why you should never stick your finger in the mouth of one.

Every day I am blown away by how amazing fishes are....

[yanderenightmare]

All For One

TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, captive reader, mind deterioration

fem reader

All For One has a habit of subjugating you for his own pleasure. 

It’s a game he likes to play—quite like chess, only… you start off with a single pawn, and you don’t know any of the rules. And he’s been world champion ten years in a row. And he plays dirty.

Tonight, he’s dressed you up in a costume. Not any old Halloween costume, but a slutty one. Not a playboy bunny or a maid, nor a schoolgirl—this was worse—a sleazy rendition of your old hero uniform.

You’d barely recognized the faintly familiar design when he first laid it out on the bed for you. Silly and naïve, you thought his games of derision would end when you finally offered your submission, but that was a fool’s thought. What fun were you if not proof of his undying victory—a reminder, a trophy, a relic?

It’s beyond degrading. Tight and revealing. Less than an actual costume, it was more something one would wear in the bedroom, cosplaying for some fantasy starring an overly sexualized you. Only God knows where he’d gotten it from.

Your steel armor, once with the dignity of a knight, had instead been swapped out for a silly silver bikini—the shimmery fabric tacky and cheap, allowing your nipples to peak forth. Covering it was a top and a skirt made up of silver chains, which only further mocked the appearance of chainmail—looking more like the jewelry a stripper might wear.

He’d forgone your helmet, boots, and sword entirely. Truly, if it weren’t for the detailing of the pattern making the fabric vaguely resemble plated armor, it wouldn’t have been much different from any other set of lingerie.

And still, it’s just similar enough to make it sting.

“Look at you...” he jeers, his voice sodden with taunt—carmine stare faded and gleeful, thoroughly enjoying it. “What a sight for sore eyes.”

He stands behind you in the mirror, holding you delicately by the hips, intimately close, dressed in another one of his black suits, fully clothed in devastating contrast to you. His smile curls as he roams your ill-covered body, kissed with the flush of chagrin, leering at you in the reflection—his voice slithering right by your ear.

“Though I can’t say I remember it being quite so revealing, can you?” he jokes, running his hands up and down your waist, fiddling some with the intricacies—metal daintily clinking and clangoring. “No, there’s something else that’s different...”

You feel so humiliated, so small—as if he could hold you up by the scruff of your neck with ease. It isn’t just a feeling—you’re well aware that he most likely could.

“Why yes, of course…” he hums with delayed realization—you know he’s faking for anticipation, chittering while wrapping his thick arms around your tiny midsection, giving you a firm squeeze. “You’ve lost all muscle.”

It’s a painful truth. You don’t know how many months it’s been. Perhaps a year has passed already, maybe even more. He keeps you well aware of his triumph in the outside world, but time still eludes you.

You’d tried maintaining it in the beginning, even after he’d taken your quirk. You’d been vigilant, keeping up your workout regimens just as religiously as before. But you couldn’t pick what you ate, nor when—and he’d only feed you cake. It wasn’t long before all your hard-earned muscles had melted away like popsicle syrup off the stick, licked and lapped right up by the man holding you.

“Mmh, yes…” he murmurs gratingly while swaying you back against him, lips pressing against your ear. “And it’s left you oh-so-soft.”

His bulbous crotch slots against your upper ass, resting there as it grows fatter and warm—a sign of his enjoyment. The weight of him makes you feel all but paper-thin.

His voice rasps now. “If I were to give you your quirk back, I wager you wouldn’t even be able to use it anymore—it would sooner rip your poor limbs apart.”

It’s beyond cruel to suggest—as if disgracing your old costume wasn’t enough torment already. You bite your lip, gnaw it harshly—don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t let him see you cry.

“Isn’t that just fascinating?” He gives your earlobe a gentle bite, and the whimper in your throat springs free like prey out of hiding.

A sniffle shortly followed—along the dribble of the night’s very first tears. Your diminished spirit has made you all too prone to cry as if there’s nothing else for you to do but indulge in the small comfort it gives.

“Oh, sweetie—don’t weep over prowess long since lost. It was never enough to challenge me anyway,” he coos, as if consoling you—swaying your smaller brittle body back against his looming chest, a cage that seemed to swallow you whole.

Steering your jaw, he holds your face still before the mirror, unable to look away as the tears dribble down your sorry cheeks—he smears them further with a kiss.

“The world would chew you up as you are now, fragile like glass.” The grin curling his lips makes you resemble prey caught on a predator’s teeth—you can’t help but shiver at the sight of it. You wish he wouldn’t toy with you like food and just kill you already. “Mark my words, hero—the belly of the beast would not grant you as much comfort as I do.”

His other hand slips down to cup your mound—firmly, with a squeeze that has you curl yourself back against him as he presses two tough fingerpads into your clothed clit, rubbing it tightly enough to make your thighs shake.

“You’re better off like this,” he grunts, snickers at how your weak hands clutch the sleeve of his suit, curling the fabric in your palms until your knuckles whiten—watching the furrow further crease between your cinched brows as you try and bite back your pathetic little sounds even as more tears come tumbling down your swollen cheeks. “Mh, my pretty plaything.”

He makes you continue to look at yourself as he simply slides the panty to the side of your cunt. Encouraging you to place your hands flat against the mirror as he bends you forward, then to step back and stand atop his dress shoes.

“Don’t be shy now,” he makes sure to tell you. “You’re as light and negligible as a feather.”

He parts his feet and yours along with them, spreading your thighs enough to accommodate the fat heat he soon slides between them. Rigid and veiny, it competes with the size of your forearm—so thick that when he slaps it up against your slit, your knees buckle from the impact.

His chuckles rumble across your body like an earthquake. You only realize how much it makes you shake when he encloses your hip in his big hand, steadying you. Holding you still as he drags his engorged cockhead through your lips, catching your clit before resting on your entrance.

You’re so sore from prior nights—countless hours locked in this room with his visits the only thing keeping you company—everything has yet to forgive you for the wreckage those visits leave behind. Your sorry little puss rues and dreads another defeat now as he sinks inside the comfort of your battered walls, one unyielding inch at a time. 

You wince and tense, shoulders bracing, and yet he pushes deeper, sliding you down his shaft until you rest at the hilt of his base, kneading the tip into your gummy womb, giving it a deep kiss that bulges out from your poor belly.

The sight in the mirror is morbid, even more so than the feeling—the way he molds your insides to fit him, to cater and house his length and size. 

“Ah—just perfect, isn’t it, hero?” he purrs, chest resting heavily upon your spine while dwarfing both your hips in a firm grip, chin-stubble scraping along your neck as his voice comes out hot against your ear, “Obedience suits you so well, don’t you agree?”

Your knees buckle once he starts the heavy pace—slowly pounding into you from behind, dragging out and pushing deep in womb-robbing thrusts. You pant from the toll of it, feeling your muscles give—too tired and too broken to continue acting tough. He’s the only reason you’re left upright on your feet—keeping you standing with just his hold on your haunches. It seems like nothing to him, though it feels like the weight of the world to you.

“It’s only a shame it had to come with all these scars.” He clicks his tongue, eyes raking across your body as it takes him, resting on each mark disrupting the otherwise milk-smooth skin. “If only you’d accepted your place sooner.”

The ember burning within you is all but a piece of cooling charcoal now. You feel it diminish every day, leaving you even thinner than before.

“But then again, I quite enjoy you like this—littered with my battle scars from your toes up to your crown. It’s rather intimate, isn’t it?” he hums with a smile. “Proof of all the times I could’ve quashed you beneath my foot like a pitiful bug but decided to spare you. Teach you how to worship like the weak ought to.”

There was a time when you still humored the thought of killing him, even with your quirk taken from you. You thought, in your foolishness, that being this close to him must garner an opportunity, any, however slim, just enough for you to take advantage and finish what you vowed to end so long ago.

Now, you almost don’t care anymore. The world had moved on without you, and there was nothing more you could do about it.

You realize your promise had been as cheap as this outfit.

“The greater the fall, the sweeter the surrender, isn’t that right?” he states. “Doesn’t it feel good to finally accept your place in the world, hero?”

You can only nod your head and agree.

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist