#*when it gets here i have a new idea for it and the little skein is eventually used in some scrap handspun project instead*

[milkweedman]

well it only took about 4 years but i think i have finally reached the level of Fiber Stash that enabled me to make whatever the hell i want immediately bc i have a suitable fiber in my stash :D

im spinning some of the black welsh mountain right now to use as the warp for a bag with that little skein I did recently. poked thru the drawers for a while looking around for something that would enhance the little skein and found the small bag of BWM. admittedly the “finding” is the part that can take a while lmfao. i uh. have a lot of very overstuffed drawers.

[thelightsandtheroses]

Sweater Weather | Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: When you pick up a hobby again as the seasons turn in Jackson, Joel wonders why you won’t make him a sweater. Word Count: 2k Warnings: established relationship, pure fluff, copious references to knitting and crafting, references to the ‘sweater curse’ , post season Jackson domesticity, no description of the reader beyond her hobby. Notes: This is just a cosy autumnal piece of fluff to ease back into the fandom a bit. I’ve been struggling with writing and my place in the fandom bit recently but I wanted to take part in @jolapeno and @goodwithcheese ‘s jolabrew with cheese autumn challenge and I’ve recently been crafting a bit and trying knitting and crochet so couldn’t resist this silly little idea,

You used to love autumn. You thought it would be your favourite season forever. You were intoxicated by the foliage in all its glorious shades of red and mustard yellow, even the browns seemed richer then. You remember jumping through leaves in your childhood, a mug of hot chocolate waiting when you got home.

That was Before though.

Before the colour red reminded you of blood rather than leave. It was before the dark meant risk, meant the chance of an infected hiding away and a rational fear of death.

After the outbreak, all of the moments you clung to, the memories you used to savour, it all felt so pointless in this new world where death was always so close, always a shadow around you.

It’s different here though.

Jackson is like something out of a postcard. It’s simultaneously stuck in another time and fully adapted to the outbreak and the need for security.

You sit on the rocking chair on the porch, hands occupied by knitting needles as you try and turn what was once a too small jumper into something useable for you, or Joel, or Ellie. You’re thinking a scarf maybe for Ellie, as the weather turns more, perhaps even a matching hat if you can salvage enough, or remember how to make one.

“Whatcha makin’?” Joel asks, one arm casually leaning against the wooden jamb of the porch. Sometimes he seems to appear from nowhere and you take in his appearance, eyes slightly tired from patrol but still bright and there’s a small smile on his face as he takes in what you’re up to.

“Not sure yet. It was a sweater before I frogged it, could be good for a scarf or hat, maybe even socks if I can … I don’t know if I can make those.” Before Jackson, it had been a while since you picked up a pair of knitting needles or a crochet hook, or even a decent skein of wool but now you can finally indulge in the hobby again. Back in Boston, you can hardly imagine how many ration cards this would have gone for.

“You’ll figure it out, you always do.” Joel says with a smile.

You remember you used to make Tommy, Tess and Joel whatever you could from scraps of wool or ragged jumpers whenever possible. Your proudest accomplishment was a patchwork blanket over several months for winters in Boston. There was no heating in the apartments and it could get cold.

Now you’ve made a number of sweaters in varying levels of success, for the first the arms were so long in you had to start again, but you’ve also made a scarf and an acceptable number of hats - the latter of which you’ve proudly given to Ellie and Joel.

It feels domestic, normal even. Jackson is just different.

“How was patrol?” you ask.

“Tommy and I went up to the lookout, there were a few infected but-” Joel shrugs and runs a hand through his hair in a motion that still turns to your bones to jelly every single time. “It was fine.“

“Good.”

You take a moment to drink in Joel’s appearance. He looks better here. His clothes fit again, his eyes are brighter. There’s part of you that can’t believe either of you are here now, that he came back. That either of them did.

When you all left Boston, you noticed the way he made sure you and Ellie had supplies, had food when it was in short supply. The closer you’d got to Jackson, the more you’d noticed how he started using a tighter notch on his belt, so you tried to share more with him, make it subtle so he didn’t catch on to your intentions either.

He had taken Ellie on from Jackson alone, insisted he’d only be a couple of weeks, but he’d asked you to stay. There was an unspoken promise to wait for him to come back. Two weeks turned into a month and you’d begged Tommy to send a group to find him and Ellie, you’d begged the town meeting every week but they said no.

Tommy thought Joel was dead, you realised. Him and Maria were trying to subtly prepare you, to help you build a life in Jackson of your own. You knew they were alive though, you just knew it.

After a while, you weren’t so sure. You just weren’t sure what it would mean if they didn’t. Your life was in stasis, waiting for an answer that might never come.

The day Joel came back with Ellie, you’d hugged them both before joking that they stank and tried to wipe away your tears when neither was looking.

That was months ago and now the three of you are settled into Jackson, almost. There are secrets between them about the time they went to Salt Lake City, but they’re here. They’re safe. There’s time for that later.

Hey,” Joel says, “you want to get lunch at the hall?”

“Sure.” You place your wool and knitting inside the hallway of your, Joel and Ellie’s home and walk down the porch to meet him.

The two of you stroll down the street towards the main town hall and dining area. It’s cool, crisp and the sound of leaves crunching under your boots is a balm. Joel’s hand is tantalising close to yours, skimming your fingers as the two of you move in tandem.

“Weather’s turning, we’ll need warmer clothes. I think the stuff I made for Tommy and Maria’s baby went down well.” You pause. “Think I could get a sweater for Ellie and new socks for you outta that.”

“Huh?”

“The wool - you asked what I was making.”

“Oh, right.”

“Seth asked if i can make him a sweater. This wool is for you and Ellie though, if you come across anything on patrol, could you- ”

‘Sure.“

Joel pauses, he’s wearing the expression you’ve noticed whenever he wants to say something but he’s not sure. A slight frown, one brow lowered, concentration on his face.

“Is everything okay?”

“Sure.”

“Joel, I know that face.”

“Seth asked if you can make him a sweater.”

“For trades, Joel, could be useful. I think he mentioned a certain bottle of wine that I’ve been eyeing up.”

“Okay.”

“What is it?”

“You’ve made me some lovely things, darlin’, and I truly appreciate the hat, but I -I know it sounds selfish, but I -”

“You want a sweater,” you say in realisation. You should have known, the last time you knitted a jumper you couldn’t help but notice how Joel had watched you doing it.

“I mean, not necessarily. It just feels like half the town has sweaters you’ve knitted ‘cept -”

“You.”

“It’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s not. It’s just, I can’t make you a sweater, Joel.”

“You can’t make me a sweater?” Joel asks.

You nod solemnly. “Honestly, I would, but I really can’t.”

“Well, why not?“

“Sweater curse.”

“Sweater curse?”

“Sweater curse.”

The two of you reach the dining hall and you kiss Joel lightly on the cheek before you open the door. “We’re okay, right?”

“Course we are,” he says firmly, squeezing your hand and putting an arm around you. “Sweater curse?” you hear him mumble to himself.

You should elaborate, explain things but in all honesty this is a moment you’ve dreaded. It’s as close to defining your relationship as you and Joel have come in some time. Mostly, the two of you are together and you’re exclusive and that’s enough. There’s no need to put any firmer labels on things than that because the two of you just work.

By the time the two of you have selected your lunch and are sitting at the table.

Tommy’s wearing a sweater you’ve made. Joel scowls for a second.

“What the fuck is a sweater curse?”

Tommy bursts out laughing.

“Rally?” He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I’m not messing with that shit. Not in this world.”

“This world?”

“There are people essentially infected by a mushroom, Joel, I will play ball with any superstitions I need to.”

“That sounds sensible actually,” Tommy says thoughtfully. “So … the sweater curse, huh?”

“How do you know about the sweater curse?” Joel asks.

“Dated someone into crochet some time back.”

“You dated someone … Jesus, Tommy. So what is it?”

“Well you know if you give someone you’re dating a homemade sweater, the curse is you’ll break up.”

”Oh.”

Joel scrutinises you and you feel your face heating. “It’s an old wives’ tale, but I - I would rather not chance it.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“I know, I know. It’s just I know someone who did make their girlfriend a sweater and then she broke up with them. Do you remember Tamsin back in the QZ?“

“Tamsin was a smuggler and dating a woman in FEDRA, it was doomed before the sweater,” Tommy says.

“Nonetheless.”

“But okay, if you’re really worried, I get it,” Tommy says, earning a scowl from Joel.

“It’s just an urban legend, baby,” Joel says.

“That might be true, but with you? Nope, I don’t want to risk it.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he repeats calmly, looking into your eyes and squeezing a knee as he slightly moves you so you’re both facing each other. The distractions of Tommy and the dining hall melt away. It’s like a balm over your body, the fact that Joel is here with you, that he still wants to be with you. The connection between the two of you runs deep and it’s certainly not always run smoothly. This town has been a true second chance for the two of you to achieve something close to normal, and maybe, you realise, Joel can see that.

“You go on patrol, Joel, it’s not as simple as that.”

Tommy looks away and Joel swallows. You watch how he tries to work through his answer, lips slightly pursed as he ponders the rich approach. There’s a freckle on his neck, one that whenever you see it instantly transports you to nights with him and moments between the sheets. You’ve catalogued every freckle, every mark, every scar now.

“I won’t push you on this,” he says quietly. “The gloves and hats are real nice.”

You smile softly, kissing him on the cheek before turning your attention back to your food. The water jug is empty so you decide to go and get a refill.

As you walk away, you can hear Tommy and Joel’s voices still.

“Now I think about it, there’s a way around the curse anyway,” Tommy says quietly, clearly in the hopes you won’t hear them. The years together have led to your hearing becoming attuned to them, to Joel’s voice in particular. You could pick him out of any crowd.

“Oh yeah?” There’s a lightness in Joel’s voice now, that slight teasing edge you love.

“Marry her. That’s the workaround. Honest.”

Joel chuckles. “For a sweater? Can’t marry her for a sweater. That ain’t right.”

“You said you were going to marry her anyway, Joel. Isn’t a sweater just a bonus?”

“Tommy!”

“I’m just sayin’, you said you had a plan.”

“I do and shut up, will you? She’ll hear.”

You freeze momentarily. Joel’s talked about marriage with you to Tommy? You take a deep breath before returning to the table.

“Is it true?” Joel asks in a whisper to you. “I know you heard Tommy and me.”

“Reckon I could ask the same question.”

Joel swallows. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

“Same.” You pause and smile mischievously, “Say it was true, I take it you have a colour preference for a sweater then, Joel?”

Tag List

If you would like to be added to to the taglist please let me know. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs. Tag lists are a bit funky at the moment, so I recommend following me or my fic account @thelightsandtheroses-fics (you can enable notifications for that account) if you want to ensure you're up to date

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed@pedrostories@hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[gtunesmiff]

7 Things That Will Doom Your Novel (& How to Avoid Them)

You can doom your debut novel from the start with these 7 (tongue-in-cheek) strategies for flailing, and failing—or, you can do just the opposite.

There are a lot of ways not to do something. Like the new boat owner a few years ago who was filling up his pleasure craft with fuel for that first time out. Only he mistook the tube meant to hold fishing poles for the gas tank. After completing his work he started up the engine.

The gas fumes ignited and blew the boat owner into the sky. He came down in the drink and was rescued, but the boat was a goner.

You can be just as creative in finding ways not to write your novel. With a little thought and not much effort, you can easily devise methods to prevent yourself from actually finishing a book—or finishing a book that has a chance to sell.

So if not finishing or not selling are your goals, I’m here to help you with the following seven tips:

1. Wait for inspiration.

Go to your favorite writing spot with your laptop or pad. Perhaps your location of choice is a Starbucks. Sit down with a cup of coffee and hold it with both hands. Sip it slowly. Do not put your fingers anywhere near the keyboard. Glance out a window if one is available. Wait for a skein of geese flying in V formation. If no window is available, simply observe the other patrons and make sure they can see your expression of other-worldly concentration.

You are waiting for inspiration. It must come from on high and fill you like fire.

Until then, do not write a word. If you’re tempted to start working without it, open up Spider Solitaire immediately. Tell yourself this will relax your mind so inspiration can pour in.

Of course, those who think it wise to finish their novels do things backwards. They don’t wait for inspiration. They go after it, as Jack London said he did, “with a club.” They follow the advice of Peter De Vries, who said, “I write when I’m inspired, and I see to it that I’m inspired at nine o’clock every morning.”

These poor souls think the secret to writing a novel is to write, and work through minor problems quickly, and major ones after the first draft is done.

They do things like this:

Establish a writing quota. The quota is based not on how much time they spend thinking about writing, but on how many words they get down. Some do a daily quota, others do it by the week. But they figure out what they can comfortably get done and set a quota about 10 percent above that as a goal.

Review the previous day’s writing and move on. By looking at what they wrote the day before, they get back into the flow of their story. They fix little things, spelling and style mostly, but then get on with the day’s work.

And one day they look up and see a finished manuscript. They have lost sight of how not to write a novel.

2. Look over your shoulder.

The great pitcher Satchel Paige said, “Don’t look back. Something may be gaining on you.”

It’s good life advice, but in order to not write your novel, you must ignore it.

To not write your novel, constantly worry about how bad your book might turn out to be. Pause every thousand words or so and think, This is about the worst piece of crud known to man. Where did I put the bourbon?

This is sometimes known as the “inner critic,” and he’s your best friend.

If you think about those doubts long enough, you can even develop them into fears. Jack Bickham, a novelist who was even better known for his books on the craft, put it this way:

“All of us are scared: of looking dumb, of running out of ideas, of never selling our copy, of not getting noticed. We fiction writers make a business of being scared, and not just of looking dumb. Some of these fears may never go away, and we may just have to learn to live with them.”

Of course, some writers learn not only to live with doubt and fear, but to defeat them. How do they do that? I shouldn’t tell you, because it’s counterproductive to not writing your novel. But mostly they simply pound away at the keyboard.

They concentrate on the words in front of them and kick that inner critic to the curb.

They train themselves to do this via writing exercises, such as:

The Five-Minute Nonstop. Write for five minutes, first thing in the morning if possible, without stopping to think about what you’re writing. No correcting. Just write.

The Page-Long Sentence. Choose something to describe (a room or a character) and write a page-long sentence about it, not pausing to edit and instead going on whatever tangents present themselves.

The List Maker. Whenever you’re stuck for an idea to pursue, make a list. Brainstorm ideas without assessing them. Turn off your filter. Get lots of ideas, then pick the best one.

Writers who have dulled the inner critic don’t worry about getting the words right. The only thing they worry about is getting the words written.

They really have not got this not writing a novel thing down at all.

3. Ignore the craft.

This piece of advice on how to not write a novel applies whether you finish your first draft or not. It’s the cry of the artistic rebel who will go to the grave denouncing rules and techniques and anything that gets within a hundred yards of structure.

This does create a very good feeling, like you’re the king of the world. You can completely ignore all of the storytellers who came before you (be sure to call them hacks or sellouts). The fact that you’ll most likely not place your book anywhere shouldn’t hinder you from your intractable writing course.

The misdirected scribes who actually sell their books and build readerships take the craft of writing seriously. They study it without apology. They have people give them feedback—editors, critique groups, trusted and objective friends—and they read countless novels and examine what’s going on. They’ll do the following:

Analyze successful stories. They ask questions when reading and use their findings to help strengthen their work. For example:

How does the writer make me want to turn the page?

Why am I drawn to the lead character?

When are the stakes raised?

How does the writer integrate minor characters?

What makes a scene work?

What’s the key to conflict?

How does the writer handle dialogue?

These studious writers will be spotted reading Writer’s Digest and books on writing. What they learn they apply and practice, and through the wonder of trial and error find themselves growing as writers.

But this is an article on how not to write a novel, so follow their example at your peril.

4. Keep a chip on your shoulder.

Here’s a surefire way not only to create a novel not worth reading, but scuttle your career as well. Decide that arrogance and defiance are your two weapons of choice to bulldog your way to publication.

When you have a manuscript rejected, treat it as a personal insult. Think of editors and agents as nasty creatures who love saying no, who sit at their computers laughing Bwahahahahaha as they fire off their favorite thing: the impersonal form letter.

You can carry all this to your social media sites and publicly rebuke such shortsightedness. By name.

Those who do break through and obtain a career have the crazy idea that they can recover—even learn—from rejection and use it as motivation to write better.

They foolishly remember the admonition of writer Ron Goulart: “Never assume that a rejection of your stuff is also a rejection of you as a person. Unless it’s accompanied by a punch in the nose.”

Yes, they recognize that rejection hurts. But they believe it’s part of the process and always will be. Writers like this do the following:

Wallow, then write. They let the rejection hurt for half an hour or so, then get back to the keyboard.

Learn from the critique. They go through the letter and their manuscript and attempt to draw out any lesson the rejection brings. They understand that people in the publishing industry actually want to find new authors.

Of course, these are terrible tips for not writing a novel!

5. Write for the market only.

Now let’s talk about one of the biggest keys to a novel that really has no chance. Start by chasing the market. Study the bestseller lists and try to identify a trend and jump on it.

There’s a saying in publishing that the moment you spot a trend, it’s too late to join it. By the time you finish writing something you think will be popular because it’s popular now, that ship will have largely sailed.

Ignore that saying, or you may end up with something agents and editors look for: a fresh voice.

Such writers are market conscious. They know that publishers are in this business to make money, a return on their investment in a new writer.

But they still manage to bring something new to the table, namely their own heart and passion filtered through a craft that enables readers to share their vision.

Yes, vision. Any genre needs it. As super agent Donald Maass says in The Fire in Fiction: “What the hell are you trying to say to me?”

Writers with fresh voices:

Explore all facets of a story. They concentrate on feeling the story as well as writing it.

Read a wide variety of material. These writers read outside their genre—even poetry!—not to find out what’s hot, but to expand their stylistic range.

But just beware that if you do find your voice, that means you’re not not writing your novel.

6. Take as many shortcuts as possible.

With the boom in e-books and the ease with which anything can be “published,” writers have a new way not to write a novel that might be worth reading. It’s by holding the thought firmly in mind that whatever they write is worth putting out as a self-released e-book, and they will do it no matter what!

This relieves a lot of the pressure of trying to grow as a writer. One can combine this with the chip-on-your-shoulder attitude for a terrific double whammy.

Of course, other writers—those who are laying a strong foundation in the nontraditional realm of digital and independent publishing—foolishly continue to find surefire ways to vet their work:

They will use test readers. They don’t trust themselves in all ways. They know they need objective readers, so they cultivate people they trust to tell them specifically what’s not working. Then they’ll figure out a way to fix it.

They will hire a good freelance editor. They know that the big benefit of a traditional publisher is professional editing, so it’s worth it to them to find a reputable freelance editor to go over their work. Note the word reputable. There are less-than-savory services out there that will gladly take a writer’s money for very little quality work. (And if you’re trying to not write a novel that’s publishable, you should probably use them!)

7. Quit.

If all else succeeds and you’re still intent on not finishing your novel, you have a surefire fallback: Stop writing.

Forget the examples of those who persevered and eventually found an agent or got published. Like Kathryn Stockett. She wrote and edited The Help over a five-year period, then got three-and-a-half years’ worth of rejections from agents—60 in all. It was agent 61 who took her on, and the rest you know well.

Published authors will tell you it’s all about perseverance, the one characteristic all successful writers share. They’ll tell you as long as you’ve got a computer and keyboard, or pen and paper, you can write. And as long as you write you have a chance to get published.

Author David Eddings said, “Keep working. Keep trying. Keep believing. You still might not make it, but at least you gave it your best shot. If you don’t have calluses on your soul, writing isn’t for you. Take up knitting instead.” 

With several bestselling series under his belt, he definitely wasn’t very good at not writing novels.

… Wait. What’s that? You actually want to write a novel? Well, I’m not the writing sheriff. The choice is yours.

~ James Scott Bell || Writers Digest || 4/29/2016

[pbandjesse]

It was a nice memorial day today.

I slept fine last night. I woke up a few times but when I woke up at 9 I felt pretty good. James came and laid in bed with me. They had already done laundry and gone for a bike ride. They told me the world was beautiful today. We would lay in bed for a bit longer but we would get up and went to get dressed.

I liked my outfit. It's the same new shirt I got on Friday and it is so soft. It's great.

I felt pretty good overall. James made a coffee and I had some soda and we decided to go out for breakfast. So pretty soon after that we were off and into the world.

We decided to go to Broadway Diner. And it was busy! I wasn't shocked, it's a bank holiday. James and me have an ongoing will they won't they about the right side of the restaurant. Which we have never once sat at. Every time we go to James makes a whole thing about how this is going to be the one!!! But nope, we still seated in the left side.

We had a quiet brunch. My stomach continues to hurt when I eat but I still enjoyed the morning with my husband. I would people watch and we looked at things on each other's phones. I had shared the styles of doors I would like for the house. The type of fence too. It was a good morning.

While we were out i decided I would like to stop at the craft store because I wanted to get yarn. And so we did exactly that.

The yarn was not as on sale as I was hoping. But I have an idea about creating a double layered loom knit blanket. Almost like a puff quilt.

We did have a 20% coupon though and I got 6 skeins of yarn for my project. I am very excited and I really hope that it works out the way I am imagining. It is going to be a lot work though! Nice to have something outside of my temperature blanket though.

We would get home and have a few hours to just chill. James would play some video games. I would work on knitting. We had Ruby trying to clean but she kept getting stuck. Poor Ruby. She has her good days and her bad days.

We would leave here around 1. I would do a quick little vacuum of the frog tank because the snails were going crazy. And very soon we were on the road.

It was a nice drive to DC. I worked on knitting and we listened to a podcast. There wasn't much traffic. And we would arrive in Eve's beautiful little neighborhood a little after 2.

She is moving to Trinidad at the end of the summer but she's going to do some other traveling throughout the summer. But the state department is sending the movers to come pack all of her stuff up tomorrow. Crazy! I am very excited for her. Like it's going to be a really amazing experience I am sure!!

When we got to her place her and her roommate had us up on her roof. We were the first guests but more would come. We had burgers and dogs and fruit and an amazing lemon cake. And I was just having a really good time.

I would have some great conversations. Specifically with this girl Charlie. She was so nice! We exchanged numbers and I hope we hang out some time because she was so lovely. Me and James would tell a whole story about when I was a furby influencer. And there was lots of baseball talk. It was fun.

Eventually we would join the table with everyone else. Where I had a really great time talking to one of Eve's friends who is into mushroom foraging. I got to show him my mushroom pictures and he was able to name them all!! He's much braver then me and actually eats them though!

We would be there for 5ish hours. We all tried to download an app to do palm reading. We had amazing lemon cake. We told stories. I got to talk about my arthritis stuff which was nice. It was nice to be able to talk through the whole craziness of last year and the chemo and the weirdness of that. I am finally feeling like I'm back to myself after a year.

We would leave there around 6. And after stopping in her apartment to use the bathroom and say hi to her beautiful cats, there were hugs and then goodbyes!!

It was a nice drive home. But the sky was getting darker and darker. There has been a tornado watch in DC and a severe thunderstorm warning in Baltimore. It felt like we were racing the storm home. But it would start to come down right before we parked.

But it wouldn't get bad for a little while. We were safely and securely in the house when the sky opened for real. Lightening and thunder!!

James would paint their nails. And I would just chill on the couch. Had a little dinner. And we have just been resting and having a nice evening.

But now I would like to go shower and get ready for bed. I have a long day tomorrow. Both camp and then an event. I really hope that it is an easy transition. Fingers crossed.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. I love you all. Good night!!!

[chaomother]

AHAH IT WAS I, THE OTHER TWIN

Fooled ya

Anywho mY BAD - night + jet???

- Moon

*GASPS* YOU GOT ME!!! HEHEHE i hope this drabble can make you forgive me ;3 it got away from me a little so it was longer than i expected it to be hehe

「jet the hawk x gn!reader」

Starlight gleamed upon the water’s surface, your hands distorting the quintessential reflections from your ripples as you delicately traced your fingertips across the cool liquid. “I wish I could be anywhere but here,” you huffed out tiredly, “Don’t you agree, Mr. Caterpillar?”

The vibrant green caterpillar making its way to the other side of the marble fountain paid you no mind, impelling you to sigh with an equally strained smile. “You’re heading home, aren’t you? Well, here, I’ll give you a lift,” you chortled as the little critter allowed you to scoop it up onto your finger.

“This spot looks perfect,” you gently placed the caterpillar onto a purple flower, observing how it rubbed itself against the luscious petals. The subdued, pale light emanating from the mansion magnified the lovely scene; and you couldn’t help but think about how beautiful the garden truly was.

Knowing that life beyond vegetation flourished here made the irritation you felt deep inside quell slightly—you never had anything against the abundant, bountiful place to begin with, but with how obsessively your parents cared for it… just made it feel spiritless. And ugly.

For the sake of ostensible cosmetics, every flower or vine had to be perfect; your parents pursuing this ideology so cruelly and vehemently that they’ve fired caretakers in the past for causing one accidental blemish.

“What’s someone as pretty as you doing out here at night all by themselves?”

At the sound of a familiar and disembodied voice, you gyrated on your heel and discerned your favorite vainglorious thief. “Jet? Why am I not surprised to see you here?” you couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he’d come this way, attracted to the lavish and rich gathering inside.

You sauntered back over to the fountain, taking your previous spot back but with new vigor at the appearance of a friend. Jet purloined the seat adjacent to you, prepared to listen to your ramble as he seen your lips parting again, “You know how these boring fancy parties go. I’m just sick of putting on a face for the sake of appearances, like, the food is terrible. It’s so hard not to cringe and say I like it…”

“Parents who push their own unattainable expectations on their kids are so annoying,” Jet sympathized with a light tone, thinking back on his own father. Not that his father pushed anything unwanted on him, but rather that Jet felt the need to live up to that legacy—and the subsequent worries that came along with it. “Want me to snatch your old man’s cane? It’s real gold, right? We can watch him stumble around in front of everyone and teach him a lesson!”

Jet sounded so utterly confident in his suggestion that you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering into your throat. But it was still an undeniably absurd idea that the rigidness in your shoulder ricocheted off each other as you threw your head back in a fit of laughter.

“Haha, no, no, that’s okay!”

And as Jet watched you sincerely be in stitches, unrestrained and full of animation, he knew he’d allow you to get away with laughing at him this one time. “That’s better, isn’t it? Now quit your laughing!” Jet expressed his disapproval, his hand jerking your shoulder.

Rubbing a tear from your eye, you grinned, “Much better!” Did he say something so stupid to make you feel better on purpose? He really did have such an effect on you—ever since he first messed up the layout of your house and mistook your bedroom for the vault room…

You could still faithfully recollect how your heart pounded as the Babylon Rogues burst into your room and how Jet’s breathtaking poise captured your attention; right before he squawked panickedly when met face-to-face with you!

The way skeins of moonlight cascaded into your room and beguiled his handsome figure… and how you couldn’t resist explaining to the trio where the actual destination was. It’s not like you cared for the things in there anyway, instead you were riveted on the mystique and excitement in your chest.

A complacent smirk etched itself onto Jet’s expression, and he kicked himself off the fountain and stood before you. “If you’re feeling so fantastic, than, will you give me a dance on this lonesome night?” he questioned, hand sticking out to you in what you surmised was meant to be a debonair manner.

“Trying to be smooth? It doesn’t suit you,” you giggled as you slipped your hand into his, allowing him to pull you up onto your feet. He settled his other hand on your waist as you grasped his shoulder, and he nudged you closer; needing this propinquity as minimal as possible.

Jet rolled his eyes, exclaiming, “You just haven’t seen this side of me until now.”

“Hehe, alright… Show me,” you whispered, flitting your eyes shut as the world went quiet upon the two of you beginning to spin in place slowly. Jet was a terrible dancer, so there were no elaborate moves… but you liked this makeshift dance best. More than anything in the world.

[gaviicreates]

WIP Wednesday - 2023 May 31

I'm back, but no promises about better than ever. I can't live up to that pressure. :D But what I can do is give a quick update on my current WIP status.

WIP Count: 4 1, crochet 2 knit, 1 Tunisian crochet

I have one more crochet project on hiatus, as it's a bit in limbo awaiting my decision for if I plan to continue it, so for now my count remains just 4.

I have been eager to play with some summer yarns - those light cottons and silky smooth bamboos, as it's approaching the hottest months of the year here in the Northern Hemisphere. Except I keep getting these lovely merino wools that have me whipping out the winter ideas.

I've been working with this absolutely GORGEOUS yarn from Arcane Fibre Works out of Canada, in a limited colorway called "Calm Waters." It's these soft yellows and green-blues that I scooped up once I found out the listing was in its last couple skeins.

Since its 80/20 Merino and Nylon in a lightweight fingering, I figure I can get away with it as a summer knit. And yes, you read that right! I am a crocheter choosing the new craft for working up this beautiful yarn. I experimented a little, but there's just truly something special about how these hand-dyeds take to knitting.

I am working on a shawl called the Mara Shawl by Madeline Tosh, available on Ravelry here. This is a FREE pattern, and it's lovely for showing off a lovely colorway. For the first part it's all garter, and I am new enough to knit, that this has been a joy watching the striping take effect.

For the WIP, this is just a phone pic of the progress, so the quality is low, but- it's starting to be a pretty decently sized triangle at the moment.

Since I have two hanks, I do hope she ends up a nice big size so I can fully wrap the shawl around my shoulders when complete. I am tempted to order one more hank just to be safe... and maybe have another credit card mishap.....

[foxgloveinspace]

@thoseeyeslikefire @absentviolet @kyloreno-911 (if anyone else wants to be tagged in my knitting updates and wants to tag me/us in their knitting updates just shoot me an ask!! And I'll try to remember to do so! Also If I'm supposed to be tagging you and I'm not, just tell me please!)

This is a long one!! And It's in the middle of the week cause I was waiting for yesterday, cause I got a little yarn haul, and then I was super excited and cast on with some of the yarn lmao.

I'm talking a lot about knitting plans today too, along with some of my w.i.p.s.

Firstly, my halloween/skulls cardigan is on hold for the moment, just cause I don't have enough yarn to finish it. I am almost done with side one, and I have used two and a half skeins, and I only have two left, and I'm on row 27? I think, of 31. I think. So I'm gonna get another skein this week when we go grocery shopping, and hope that it will be enough lol.

the first pics of the post, lol. You may be going 'Fox, didn't you just finish this hat?' the answer is yes! But while i was making it, my mom fell in love with it, and so I cast on another one immediately after. I am probably gonna finish this up today, but I decided to include pics, cause I'm keeping it in this really cute halloween bag my aunt gave me.

I am not mad about making another of these hats, I love the pattern (its the Ryegate Hat), and this yarn. I am so in love with this yarn, it's the Light Weight Essential Cotton Yarn by K+C. I love it so much in fact that I think I have more knitting plans with it. In this color too, cause it will be perfect for the project I have in mind.*

next we have part of the yarn haul, lmao. I was too excited when I got new sock yarn and immediately cast on a new pair of socks. I am making A Little Hocus Pocus socks, and I am making them with Paton's Kroy Socks Yarn in the color Midnight Orchid. It reminds me a lot of the genderqueer flag, but that wasn't the reason I got the yarn lol. I honestly just saw it an fell in love with the colors, and it didn't hit me that it matches my flag until I cast it on. I just thought it looked very magical.

the second part of my yarn haul are these beautiful skeins of Fishermen's Wool from Lion's Brand, in the color oatmeal. This is also kicking off my knitting plans for the future part of the post this week. This yarn is going to be used for a Gaia Shawl, which will be my Birthday Shawl for this year. Last year I started a tradition of casting on a shawl on my birthday, I made a Campfire Cozy shawl, and I knit on it during November and December and then I lived in it in January and February. I'm very excited to have a new shawl in the family tbh, even though I mostly wear them around the house. I don't know if this one will take me as long, and the Campfire Cozy has SO many textures, and the 'lace' portion was so complicated I started it over at least twice. I was also watching The Musketeers while knitting that lol, so that didn't help my concentration.

But because I can't cast that on until the 26th, I'm going to be picking back up my pass the honey cardigan, its been off to the side for a couple months now. I think I was just frustrated with it tbh. I like it a lot, but it was going to be a gift, and now it's just...... Here. And while I do like it a lot, I also feel a bit guilty about it?? Cause I tried so hard to make something my sister will enjoy wearing, and I couldn't find it at all. Very sad about that. But I do want to finish it, and I also think I have an idea about something I could make her in the future. But yes, I do want to finish that cause I think it will be great to wear in January.

*And Lastly, going back to the Light Weight Essential Cotton Yarn by K+C, Next month, a sweater pattern from the.creabea (Rebecca) called the Stick Season sweater will be coming out. And I am head over heels in love with this sweater. So I am going to be knitting it in the same yarn as the hats I've been making (both cause I have some left over, and because I think it will be amazing in this yarn). She also just has some absolutely beautiful knitting patterns, and I want to knit her patterns that are coming out for advent season this year too. I think her other sweater pattern that just came out, the Alder Sweater, is absolutely beautiful, but I am very intimidated by it, lol. Maybe one day I'll give it a try.

And that's it from me this week! Thanks for reading if you made it to the end, happy knitting and crocheting y'all!

[sonicenvy]

a solid 80-90% of my coolest craft/art/writing/making ideas come to me at the most inconvenient of times:

late at night when i am trying to sleep

in the shower

at work while im helping someone out with a thing

while i am biking or driving

when i am on a train car or bus having to stand instead of sit

tonight's inconvenient idea was for a new, different embroidery hoop that wasn't the pattern i downloaded and printed onto my dissolvable stabilizer, stuck onto fabric and mounted into a hoop (and then bought the thread for) and started on.

This idea was to do some of the images from the book of kells. I am especially fond of the very famous folio 27v which is from the gospel of matthew and depicts the symbols of the four evangelists (matthew, mark, luke and john as the man, the wingèd lion, the wingèd calf and the eagle). The one that seemed to be the least technically difficult to stitch in my mind was the wingèd calf (luke) so I cut the image out of the page in photoshop, enlarged it and printed it out. Once printed out I made a (clumsy) tracing of it onto another paper, which I'll have to refine and ink later. For now, I'd call that proof of concept.

After inking, ill probably scan it back into the computer and make a vector of it and print that vector out on the water dissovlable stabilizer to attach to my fabric. I decided to go about this route because, frankly, I'm shite at tracing things digitally with my ancient wacom tablet (and my ipad is too old to do apple pencil + procreate which would probably be better. Plus, like, I have a light box, why not use it?

As a side note I cannot draw AT ALL, but I am passable at tracing because of embroidery and because I traced stuff all the time for assignments back in primary school that we were supposed to draw stuff for if I couldn't get away with doing layer collages cut out with my x-acto knife for the project instead. (yes i was a single digit age child with an x-acto knife. my dad had an a+ parenting moment when I was like, maybe 5 and taught me how to cut out things (mostly my paper dolls) with an x-acto knife. I didn't even know how to use scissors at the time lmaooooooo. because x-actoing shit out is soooo much better, as I result i still stink at scissor cutting things.)

anyways. in case you were wondering about what the little guy im planning to embroidery looks like.... boom!

he's just a little guy! medieval monks drew all kinds of fun and funky creatures and frankly, dear old irish/scottish medieval monks, im obsessed. y'all dont get me started on medieval art and illuminate manuscripts or ill be here for 100000 years. my bones will be telling you about medieval art.

the other embroidery projects that are totally still going to happen:

the sea shell pattern i downloaded. good thing i didn't have to pay for it....

a blue morpho or a paper kite butterfly.

some kind of stitch sampler

other fiber art projects:

that crocheted shawl i downloaded a pattern for a kajillion years ago

the giant blue crocheted scarf that I got about 60% of the way through making from that pound o' love yarn skein.

mending. so. much. mending.

[naritaren]

I forgot to share this here yesterday after it happened, but I have been on the fence about trying out a gimmick yarn and it's not what you think that turned me away. Yarnspirations, aka Red Heart, has released a new Red Heart line of yarn called "all in one: granny squares". The idea is that you can make perfect granny squares with color changes without having to actually change colors. It's a new take on planned pooling and I'm intrigued to see how it turns out. The problem? I really don't like sewing shit together and granny square joins are not my strongest skill. I figured I could get a couple of skeins of the yarn and do a little market bag or something out of it. Then I went to go see where I could buy it. I first went to the Joann's website and saw that, on sale, this yarn is $7.50. For Red Heart. Original price is 10 dollars. (Excuse me?). So I check the yarnspirations website and the original price is 12 dollars. (WHAT?) I'm not paying that much for fucking Red Heart. I understand that it's a 250g ball, but a 200g ball of Super Saver is 4 dollars. Fuck that. I'm not a yarn snob and I'm down to try anything, but when I can just buy three things of super saver and get more squares out of it than one of those gimmick balls of yarn? I'm not fucking falling for that bullshit. Fuck that.

[talldarkandroguesome]

10th of Morning Star, Middas

The prince and his delegation have left. Holgunn stayed on an extra half a week from the others, but our dear uncle has finally left as well.

The whole time he was here he worried after me. No matter what reassurances I attempted to offer him, he did not let it go. He is so concerned about me because of the fact that he does not see a change from when I supposedly had my soul returned.

He brought it up constantly, much to the discomfort of Avon and I, who were all too aware of it.

Tel came to visit and I had the good fortune of being able to keep them and uncle Holgunn from discussing the topic, though it was very difficult indeed. And it was only the news of our working on producing the next heir that brought uncle Holgunn from that topic into a series of congratulations and questions about names.

Tomorrow is the new moon of Masser and I have decided to make a new challenge for my precious little Spiderlings of finding more shards of Aetherius. I need my strength for sure. Especially since I am working up the courage to speak to Zethith again about the matter of Leythen.

I have not given up on wishing to find a way to make Leythen an ancestor spirit. And the Farseer seemed to think it was not impossible. And as long as I can find a way to recover some part of his body I should be able to conduct the binding ceremony.

When I summoned Leythen at the turning of the year, he seemed amenable to the idea. True, he and I did not have a lot of time for me to explain the process or what it would mean for us, but given that as far Summerset Isle deed laws are concerned, I am already a blood relation to him. This would simply allow me the opportunity to have his guidance and he would get a reprieve from his duties in the Spiral Skein.

I have no notion of what my Prince might ask for in return. It is truly a great favor to ask. It is so very big. Though, our Prince was already able to save his soul from being lost, so it is not as though She does not have the power. It is more a matter of if I am able to provide a great enough offering.

Well, best to have another glass of this wine and to gain my nerve.

[summerwritesfics]

🔥❄️Mamma Mia, Here I Go A-Skein

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 1283 Words Rating: General Warnings: Crochet, Secret Hobbies, Cute Soft Toys, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Just Kuai being a cutie again, Hanzo is exasperated but he loves Kuai too much SubScorp Week Bonus Prompt: Crochet

SubScorp Week 2022 Masterlist

Notes: Here we go! The little SubScorp week bonus! Shorter than everything else, but I came up with this cute idea and HAD to write it!

There was a mystery occurring in the Fire Gardens.

For a few months now, Hanzo would occasionally come across small crochet animals, hidden away in obscure but still easily findable places. The animals ranged in species and design, although the size of them was always roughly the same. It was clear the person making and hiding them intended them to be found but for why he didn’t understand.

Initially he was just extremely confused. It was harmless enough but he couldn’t wrap his head around any possible reason.

Then the children of the Shirai Ryu got wind of it.

It started to become a collecting game for them, who could find and keep the most of these little animals. It even became a status symbol to have a particularly rare animal. There were plenty of little bears, but not everyone had a penguin or an octopus. The children were extremely jealous of Hanzo when he stumbled upon a little scorpion toy hidden in between a weapons rack. It was apparently the only scorpion, but the children let Hanzo keep it, because he had found it fair and square and those were the rules they had come to agreement of.

Hanzo hated to admit he was glad because he actually really liked his little scorpion.

Still none of this explained who was doing it, and why. The children had no idea, none of their parents knew, and none of his higher ups seemed to even know what he was talking about. The only person who eluded to knowing something was Takeda, but even then it wasn’t him. New animals were showing up at times he was no where near the Fire Gardens. Whatever he knew however, he was being tight lipped about it.

Hanzo was determined to find the mastermind behind this scheme.

He began to take note of when new ones would appear and where. He had a notebook with dates, and made sure to keep track of where they had been placed. Next, he began to cross-examine these dates in combination with his own diary, and noticed a very interesting correlation.

The appearance of new animals seemed to coincide with visits from Kuai Liang.

Hanzo didn’t know for sure, but he knew he had to try and catch Kuai in the act. There was a spot behind a bridge that seemed to be a favoured hiding spot. So the next time Kuai was at the Fire Gardens, he excused himself for important business, and then lay in wait a little way from the spot. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, and he was starting to think maybe he’d gotten it wrong.

Until he noticed Kuai creeping out across the path and towards the bridge.

He stopped at the spot, looked around for a bit like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. And then, from his pocket he pulled out a small blue crocheted cat.

Got you!

Hanzo moved out into the open, approaching just in time for Kuai to place the cat in it’s hiding spot. Kuai didn’t notice him until Hanzo coughed to get his attention. Or at least, Hanzo hadn’t thought Kuai had noticed, but he reconsidered that when Kuai turned his head to him with a sly smile on his face.

“So, you finally figured it out?” Kuai asked standing up and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I will concede you were elusive.” Hanzo picked up the cat and observed it. It was cute, he had to admit. “Are there more?”

Kuai reached for Hanzo’s wrist to guide him to put the cat back down. He then took Hanzo by the hand and led him back through the gardens and back inside. When they went inside Hanzo’s quarters, Kuai finally let go of Hanzo’s hand and walked over to where his suitcases were. He pulled out a small bag, and when he unzipped it, a small collection of various animals started to pop out.

“Did you make them?” Hanzo asked, reaching down to pull out a small pink octopus. There was one little girl who was clambering for an octopus and loved the colour pink, she would be so happy if she got her hands on this one. Kuai hummed in acknowledgment of his question. “You’ve never mentioned getting into crochet.”

“Cassandra decided I needed a hobby that wasn’t combat related or physically active,” Kuai explained, slowly pulling out more of the animals. “We tried a variety of different crafts, but somehow crochet was the one that stuck.” He picked up a small purple and blue racoon, popping it on his own shoulder. “I didn’t mention it at first because I wanted to get better and surprise you with a scarf or something, but then I got really into the animals and the idea of hiding them around here got planted into my mind, so…”

“Okay, so, why did you decide to hide them?” Hanzo questioned, picking up a red and orange tiger and putting it on top of Kuai’s head.

Kuai looked amused by the action before saying “well, admittedly at first it was because your face when your confused by something is really cute.”

“So you did it to annoy me,” Hanzo summerised, picking up a bear and also putting it on Kuai’s head as payback for putting Hanzo through months of unanswered questions.

“Aw, I know you like them really~” Kuai teased, getting his own back by picking up the octopus and balancing it on Hanzo’s head. Hanzo tried to give him the best unimpressed look he could muster, but the way Kuai bit his lip seemed to imply he did not believe Hanzo disliked the animals. “What about Pinchy over there?” Kuai carefully pointed in the direction of the crochet scorpion and Hanzo scoffed.

“Firstly, his name is Nobutoshi. Secondly-“ Hanzo paused, realising what the first thing he said was, and the triumphant grin on Kuai’s face. “I am not going to be able to argue against me liking them when I’ve named the one I own, am I?”

“Nope~” Kuai practically sang, knowing he had won. “Anyway, that is how it started, but when the children started finding them, I saw how happy it made them.” Kuai stuck his tongue out as he carefully placed a penguin on Hanzo’s head. “Every time I see them comparing their collections or going out hunting for them, it makes my day.”

Hanzo couldn’t disagree with that, the kids really did love these things. This life was draining sometimes, and it could be hard to see the good things in between all the bad. But seeing something so small bring the children of the Shirai Ryu so much joy was definitely one of those good things.

“Well, I suppose they would be upset if they suddenly stopped appearing one day.” Hanzo felt justified by the way Kuai’s grin grew wider, understanding Hanzo’s subtle permission to continue the game. “That said I think you definitely need to add another scorpion to the army, I fear for Nobutoshi’s safety.”

“Noted, I’ll add another to my todo list.” Kuai finally went to pluck the animals from his head and shoulder, carefully putting them back inside his bag. He then finally removed the ones from Hanzo’s head, before asking, “do you want to help me hide them?”

“Well, if you insist.” He picked up the octopus again and smiled, knowing exactly where he was going to hide this one. There was a spot that the little girl he’d believed would like it checked religiously and was always the first to check there. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction when she found it waiting for her.

[eskelbigbang]

Eskel Big Bang 2021 Masterpost

Here are all the fics and art made this year for the Eskel Big Bang. Congratulations on the hard work, everyone!

AO3 collection || #ebb works tag || #ebb art tag || #ebb fic tag

Below the cut is a full list of all EBB works:

Uprooted (T, No Pairing, 12k) by @rachofspades, art by @drachedraws

When a nondescript notice begging for a witcher's aid catches Eskel's attention on his way back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, he finds himself drawn in by his own curiosity despite his initial reservations. Once he arrives, it quickly becomes apparent that there's something more sinister going on than typical monster attacks, and he's determined to figure out what it is. Fic || Art (1) (2)

These Clay Hands (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.7k) by @aalizazareth, art by @hobbart-art

Eskel is a shy pottery instructor who meets Jaskier during one of his lessons. The two hit it off. Fic || Art

The Empty Safe Job (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 18k) by @iboughtaplant, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

A team of thieves with complicated pasts take down the rich and powerful to help those that get left out from justice. Their latest job should be simple, but an unexpected adversary has Eskel confronting his past. Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys. Fic || Art

the broken vines are an open door (M, Eskel & Geralt & Yennefer, 5.2k) by @trissmarrygoals, art by @flyingyarn

Traveling through Aedirn with his newly acquired child surprise, Eskel stumbles upon a dead body - and with it, a mystery. Fic || Art

With you I'll never be alone (T, Eskel/Geralt, 5.8k) by @dat-carovieh, art by @mondfuchs

From their first meeting, through their whole long life Geralt and Eskel have always been there to comfort each other when one of them got hurt. --- Or five times Geralt and Eskel comfort each other through some kind of hurt and one time they're just comfortable. Fic || Art

Eskel Has A Good Day (G, Eskel & Wolf Witchers, 9.3k) by @gods-no-longer-tread-here, art by @phoenixandjacob

The Wolves (and bard) of Kaer Morhen go on a vacation to the coast, and have a good day. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Tu Me Manques. (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 8k) by @etcorsolus, art by @cvbeebop

In which, Eskel meets a bard who calms him. Body, mind, and soul. Story title is how the French say 'I miss you.' The more literal translation is 'You are missing from me.' Fic || Art

Little Red (M, Eskel/Lambert, 6.1k) by @miahclone, art by @llwynbleidd

Eskel helps Lambert while he's recovering from a serious injury. To distract him from the pain, Eskel tells stories of past hunts. Fic || Art

Constellations (M, Eskel/Geralt, 7.2k) by @dredshirtroberts, art by @dat-carovieh

Eskel loves Geralt but their soulmarks don't match - he'd know. They're witchers, and scars are their business. As he joins Geralt in retirement, Eskel figures whatever he can get with the other witcher will be enough. He might get a little bit more than he thought he was bargaining for, but Eskel's never passed up a good deal. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Trial By Fire (Eskel and Aza's Wild Ride) (E, Eskel/OFC, 11k) by @janzoo, art by @liaonyxrayne

When Eskel rescues his succubus acquaintance from witch hunters, their reunion becomes something more as they're drawn into the hunters' plot. What can they do against a twisted idealist and the danger he presents to witchers and non-humans? Fic || Art

Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 29k) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites, art by @wolfgeralt

When Eskel is hired to kill an incubus who ruined a noble wedding, he finds that his target is far from a bloodthirsty beast, a too-pretty court bard. Eskel spares Jaskier and they go their separate ways, with Eskel expecting never to see the incubus again. But Jaskier has other ideas. Fic || Art

I Could Eat the World Raw (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 7k) by @buttercupsanddandelions, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

“This is Eskel.” He pushes him slightly forward, “And he just had his conduit moment.” After becoming a mage, Eskel finds that he's been soul-bound to a little lordling. Fic || Art

Something we bury (M, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @heartoferebor, art by @craftgamerzz

“Where’s Eskel?” Ciri asks Geralt, frowning a little. “He went out to do more hunting and gather some potion ingredients. Should be back any moment,” Geralt reassures her. “Ah. Good.” She hesitates a little before deciding to forge right ahead with her next question. She’s asked everyone else in the keep, of course she’ll have to ask Geralt, too. “About his scars…” * Ciri wants to know where Eskel's scars came from, so she decides to ask everyone at the keep about them. Except, they all seem to have different stories... Fic || Art

Lord What Fools These Witchers Be (T, Aiden/Eskel, 21k) by @jayofolympus and @frenchkey, art by aviixrc

When Lambert brings Aiden to winter with him in Kaer Morhen, Eskel is catapulted straight into his own personal hell. It would be easier if he didn’t like the Cat. Instead, he finds himself falling head over heels for his brother’s boyfriend and trying to hide it from a pack of nosy Witchers. If only Aiden would stop flirting with him... Fic || Art (1) (2)

A Moment of Comfort (M, Eskel/OC) by @merpancake

An attack at a brothel begins with blood and carnage, but Eskel finds an unexpected peace in the arms of Cenna. As their paths continue to cross, Eskel carries that same peace within him on his journey through monsters and men. Art

Toussaint's Finest (M, Eskel/Geralt, 9.1k) by @kate-river, art by @justhereforeskel

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever. Fic || Art

Beneath the Shadow and the Soul (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 32k) by @vix-spes, art by @buffskierights

Eskel had the strange feeling that everything was going to change when he passed through Dol Blathanna one year on his way back to Kaer Morhen for winter. He had been passing through a town and, instead of running away from him, someone had exclaimed “You’re a Witcher,” and proceeded to sing at him. He just hadn't realised how much of an impact it would have on him. Fic || Art

Daughter of Fire (T, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 4.9k) by @kittynannygaming, art by @zmezagain

Witchers are sterile, that's a fact. No female human can bear their child. Well, the keyword here is 'human' and a succubus is very not human. And Eskel now has a sweet 7 years old daughter. Fic || Art

Break It Recklessly (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 22k) by @anonymousblueberry, art by @nol-nol

From teenage tearaways to successful adults, Geralt and Eskel have always been inseparable. To the extent that when Geralt accepts a wedding invite with Eskel as his plus one, there’s the assumption that they have finally sorted their shit out and got together, forcing them to keep up the facade or cause chaos for the happy couple. What follows is a crash course in emotions, dating, and working out that love can burn long and slow for a very long time. Fic || Art

The Question (M, Eskel/Istredd, 40k) by @eskelchopchop, art by @stars-in-my-damn-eyes

Eskel's in Ohio when Yennefer calls. He’s reluctant to pick up; he’s still not over Geralt, and he's got zero desire to chat with Geralt's new lover. Turns out Yen isn’t his lover anymore, and this isn’t about Geralt. It’s about witcher’s work. Yennefer owns Portal, one of New York City's most popular gay clubs. A Post-Conjunction Entity (PCE) is hunting her clientele, leaving a string of withered corpses in its wake. The police are doing jackshit. Will Eskel come back to a city full of bad memories and take a job off the books to stop it? He'll sure as hell try. Along the way, he’ll cross paths with Istredd, a man with sorcerer’s eyes and a painful past of his own. If Eskel doesn't work fast enough, they both might become the PCE's next victims. Fic || Art

Is It Cold In The Water? (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 12k) by @jennyloggins, art by @jerry-of-rivia

His horse is tied to a branch a few trees out, and that’s where Eskel heads to grab his water skein, taking a deep drink and soothe his dry throat. Patting his horse’s backside affectionately on his way past her, Eskel feigns a stern voice to say, “Zuzanna, keep watch for me.” Her tail twitches as if to swat him away. Fic || Art

Everything I Want (I Can Find in You) by @eyesofshinigami, art by @phoenixandjacob

Eskel didn't think he'd ever see Jaskier again, sure the Cat witcher was only looking for a night of fun. But then he keeps showing up, taking Eskel to bed and leaving him little presents. It takes Eskel a bit, but eventually he realizes that maybe, just maybe, Jaskier means it when he says he wants to keep him. Or Eskel doesn't think he deserves nice things and Jaskier is determined to show him otherwise. Fic || Art

One Stop Shop; Tattoo's Piercings, And Love (M, Eskel/Jaskier/Lambert, 7.4k) by @jesheckah, art by @moondrunkart

When Eskel fumbles an invitation at a party to come into his tattoo shop, Jaskier and he move towards an explosive love. How many tattoo sessions does it take for the heart to know what it wants? Fic || Art

Entanglement (and other words for a mess) (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 31k) by @violaceum-vitellina-viridis, art by @merpancake

Eskel has a hundred marks on his body, but a soulmark isn't one of them. Fic || Art

Beneath Each Other's Bones (E, Eskel/Geralt, 7.6k) by @pressedinthepages, art by @drachedraws

Winter at Kaer Morhen can be brutal. But Eskel and Geralt find warmth in each other in an effort to stave off the cold. Fic || Art (1) (2)

#9fe2bf on the Shore (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.5k) by @buffskierights, art by @phoenixandjacob

The sea roars with a vengeance, something angering the waves even as the stars shine brightly overhead in the clear night sky. If Eskel were a poet he’d say it almost sounded like a wail of mourning, the way the whitewater crashes upon the night black sand and the gathering foam, the sea frothing furiously. But Eskel’s always hated his poetry lessons so being a poet is firmly off the table. Fic || Art

lion in the wolf's den (T, Coen/Eskel, 5k) by @patchwork-doublet, art by @justhereforeskel

eskel is nervous being around ciri, afraid things will go south like they did last time. Fic || Art

Sugar Baby Blues (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 24k) by adevinecomedy, art by @pastelrune

Jaskier’s mind slipped back to a night several months ago when he was all worked up but had nowhere to go and a mountain of school work to get through. How it was just so much easier to log onto a camming website and watch someone perform seemingly just for him. The gorgeous, confident man on the other side of the screen had been so accommodating, even though Jaskier had been shy and hadn’t typed much into the chat. Modern au where Eskel is a Cam boy and runs into a bit of a financial bind. Enter Jaskier who just might be the answer to all his woes. Fic || Art

Winter Comfort (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 10k) by @myidlehand, art by @liaonyxrayne

Jaskier comes to Kaer Morhen to spend some time with Eskel, after briefly meeting him in the fall. And while both of them seem delighted to see each other again, Eskel starts to shy away from Jaskier's comments and flirting. It doesn't take a genius to see Eskel is having body image issue. Jaskier aims to help him through it. Fic || Art

The Subtle Knife (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 26k) by @major-trouble, art by @cylin-aka-ankamo

There's an assassin haunting the Continent. No one knows their name, everyone - that is, everyone in the know - calls them The Specter. If you want a rival out of the way, a political opponent disposed of, or a strategic target taken out, contacting The Specter gets the job done. For a price, of course. There's an art to subtlety, after all, and it wouldn't do to risk the attention of law enforcement. So there's no obvious cause, no knife to the back, and the deaths aren't usually remarked upon. The Kaer Morhen Agency, however, has noticed. One of their agents has been hired to protect potential victims, people scared that they've been targeted. And they have reason to worry. When Eskel's first assignment winds up dead of no discernible cause, it starts him on a search for the elusive Specter, hoping against hope to track down the assassin before they're hired again. Setting a trap for a ghost is something Witchers are used to. Setting one for a trained killer may prove beyond them. Fic || Art

No Funny Business (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 11k) by goldendaydreams, art by @nanero11

Eskel had long given up on finding his soulmate, his soulmark nothing but scar tissue from a house fire he’d survived as a child. Knowing that most people wait for their perfect someone, their destiny, didn’t stop him from falling in love with Jaskier, the nurse he met after a hunt gone wrong. Fic || Art

Stronger Than My Storm (E, Eskel/Geralt) by @rawrkinjd, art by @nol-nol

Eskel and Geralt were friends from the very beginning. They added the benefits later. It was another way to offer comfort and companionship when the rest of the world closed in around them, and Eskel was content with it for years. Until he wakes up one day and realises it’s become something more. He touches Geralt’s silver hair, wreathed in a halo of yellow sunlight, and allows himself to feel the cracks spreading through his heart. Witchers can’t love each other. It would only lead to suffering. Eskel realises he must weather the storm inside or let Geralt go forever. Fic || Art

Full of Life (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 6.3k) by @sternenstaub28, art by @llwynbleidd

When Eskel gets hired to solve the case of people disappearing in town, she didn’t know she’d find a friend and maybe even something more. or Beauty and strength don't necessarily make your life easier, a companion and love however do. Fic || Art

choices are the hinges of destiny (T, Eskel/Geralt, 7.5k) by @lutes-and-dandelions, art by @cassandrasartworld

After rescuing a fae from the clutches of death, they repay Eskel by helping him make a choice. -oOo- A story about what would have happened if Eskel had claimed his child of surprise. Fic || Art

Eskel Vs The Continent (And His Feelings) (M, No Pairing, 47k) by @chibitabathasloves, art by @zmezagain

Eskel decides he needs to leave Kaer Morhen after the fight with the Hunt. Where will it take him? And will he be able to face his feelings he desperately tries to ignore. Fic || Art

lookin' to the sky to save me (T, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @torynickles, art by @trissmarrygoals

Geralt slides his hand from Eskel’s shoulder to his back. And then. Then he keeps moving it, outwards, away from Eskel’s torso, where there should be nothing but air, but— “What the fuck?” he chokes, because he can still feel Geralt’s hand, sensation where there should be none. He shakes his head wildly, twisting his arm to reach for his own back. His fingers connect to something, but—it’s not his body, it can’t be his body, even though he can feel himself touching it. Because he’s made up of skin and flesh, bone and muscle, and this thing has all of those, but— It’s covered in sticky, damp feathers. Fic || Art

A Fine Night at the Faire (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 12k) by Elensule, art by @liaonyxrayne

Eskel has been hurt by the world and hides for refuge in his little goat farm. He's found no reason to look for love, or much of anything else. But encouragement from his brother sends him to an unfamiliar locale; the renfaire! Maybe stepping out of his comfort zone was just what he needed. Fic || Art

[pbandjesse]

I do not know what but my leg is hurting very much. It started yesterday and it hasn't improved. Even with James trying to squeeze and massage it. Hopefully I just like twisted something weird and I'll be okay soon. Cause it's really uncomfortable.

But today was a nice day. And it's Jess's birthday! She finally joined me in being in her thirties. And she got the flowers we sent her! Poster above, they are shaped like a cat and we though they were hilarious.

I slept alright last night. And felt a little better this morning. James had loaded up the car already. I was slow to start. But got myself together and we headed out.

We beat the rain. But it would be on and off all day. And after we got breakfast James helped me set up my table.

The pavilion was all wet but Ann had worked hard on brushing the water away with the broom. But I wouldn't notice a new puddle showed up under my chair and the whole bottom of my dress got soaked and it kept sticking to my legs and it was cold and terrible. I would survive but only barely.

Callie was at the market today working for Helen. It was so fun having a friend there. And it wasn't a terrible day. I made my break even sale goal, but it was slow. The rain didn't help I'm sure. But there were good waves of people.

And I had fun. Sewing. People watching. Chatting with CJ. I had my two little friends come and I showed them how to sew and let them work on some of my keychain bears. I will be redoing them but it was fun to let them do it.

I did have a slightly stressful interaction with some kids who wanted to buy keychains and their parents said yes but then wanted me to change the pins to keychains and I did but then the kids changed their minds and had meltdowns about wanting pins still. There was a lot of screaming?? But it was fine. I am glad they liked my stuff.

It started storming really hard and it got really loud for a while. But it would calm down again. And as 1 came around we started packing up. And then it started raining again and I got all wet carrying everything to the car. Ah well. It wasn't to bad.

I went and said goodbye to James. And then I went home.

When I got back here I would collect my dried flowers and put some new ones in my books. Callie let me keep some that fell on the group. And had my leftover chipotle from last night.

I got changed and laid down. And would eventually fall asleep.

I woke up when James came in. I told them to wake me up for real when they got done in the shower. And I would take my time getting myself together. James had two podcasts to do today. And once I was up and dressed I left.

I drove out to joann's to buy yarn. They didn't have the colors I wanted but I got black and that's fine. I went to savers next and had a weird interaction when I asked to get by someone and they were really rude. They were blocking the whole aisle and I waited a little but they weren't moving so I asked politely to get by and they made a fuss backing up to make room and then said I should have gone down a different aisle??? No?? You don't own the whole store?? It out a bad taste in my mouth. I hadn't had my headphones in but I would put them on now because I didn't want to hear nasty people anymore.

I would end up finding two more skeins of yarn that were brand new and the brand I like. $3 a piece! So I was very pleased. And I found a little white towel rack (?) That was only $2 and I am going to use as camp and I was very pleased. And older lady, as I was leaving the store, told me it was a really cool find!

I checked out and went over to the goodwill. There I found a dress for the Ren fair. And had a nice conversation with the woman at the counter. She thought using the dress for the Ren fair was a great idea.

In the car I decided I wanted a pretzel. But the Towson mall was closing soon. So instead I drove out to white Marsh mall. And got a piece of pizza and a pretzel and walked around the mall for an hour. Smelling all the lotions at bath and body works. Looking at the jewelry and makeup at Claire's. Enjoying that goth fashion is back at hot topic. It was fun.

At 730 I went home. Getting back here at 8. As James was finishing their podcast. While they did that I played with making my Ren fair outfits. And soon would go and take a shower.

Me and James have been hanging out in bed since then. I am cozy and happy.

And tomorrow is the first day of camp!! I'm excited. I hope it's a good day and everything goes smoothly. Wish us luck. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[fishmongeringstudies]

twenty three: after the end of the song the singer's voice travels down the hallway into the room at the other end, where god is braiding a skein of light into your hair

it's a five minute walk from the apartment in singapore to the subway station. after exiting the building, take a right, wait for the red light to turn, then keep walking until you see a sleek gray building rising out of the pavement at the end of the path. the station is underneath. take the escalator, elevator, or the stairs. all three of them will dispense you in the same wide underground space with the polished marble floor. buy a ticket or three. walk through the gantry. head down another flight of stairs, and then another, until you arrive, at last, at the promised place.

i'm told america is a country of cars. since the invention of the gas-powered vehicle in 1886 it has been unable to rid itself of this idea, this dream of flying, faster than light being chased out of the sunset, through suburbs, cities, and towns, and so to prove its ephemeral strength to an audience which wasn't looking, the distance between each grew wider. the average american spends nearly an hour behind the steering wheel each day. in the spring my friend told me, while picking a grilled cheese sandwich apart with a fork, that he drove eight hours to get to college.

it takes less than an hour to drive from one end of singapore to the other. if the traffic is good and you don't get lost in the central business district, staring down week-old acai joints and cafes full of shimmering mass-produced wall decor, it could take less. it took me an hour and a half to crawl from the west coast to the east on a weekday morning. i went by train, bus, and foot.

motion proves existence. if i can bring this body to five different points on a map then i have left a mark on all the places in between, in each footprint pressed into the soft dirt of each route. to exist in confinement is to be visible from one place only. and that place is hell.

this morning the elevator smelled like someone threw up in it. when i stepped inside with my laundry hamper slung over my shoulder i didn't notice the smell because i was too busy making brief but awkward eye contact with the other person who had been waiting for the elevator, who whispered once the door slid shut in a voice like ginger ale poured over a bed of pearls, 'first floor?' then pressed the button with a manicured nail. the elevator dumped us on the first floor and we walked off in opposite directions. after dumping a week's worth of sticky summer heat in the wash, i came back. and so did the smell of vomit.

today is saturday, which means last night things happened in this building that i don't know about and have no desire to look into. at about midnight i heard someone screaming from some distance away and looked outside to see a skinny figure tearing down the sidewalk that led up to our dorm, pinwheeling their arms like a madman or a pigeon with a bad case of flight anxiety. they sounded like someone had put the rosetta stone through a voice distortion program. behind them, out of sight, came the echo of high-pitched, shrieking laughter. after a moment, they stopped swinging their arms and turned to stare back down the empty, moonlit path. WHAT'RE YOU LOOKING AT, HUH? they bellowed, like a god. i looked away from my window.

they say college is about trying things you will regret and doing them with a brand of stupid fearless pride unique to the peculiar creature that we call the college student anyway, because nineteen year olds don't know what fear looks, sounds, or tastes like. the logic behind this is as follows. the corporate workplace doesn't tolerate individuality on principle, so if every kid's going to have an obligatory three hour long soul-searching indie film shot about their life then they might as well do it in a controlled setting along with a thousand other kids who are going through the same thing. some of them may be film majors. in which case, your indie film will be very good. some of them may be engineering majors. in which case your indie film will be very bad. regardless, you're guaranteed to come out of your choice of higher education money-making machine with something to tell your parents that'll make them bawl their eyes out and send you, cherub-cheeked and smiling, to your room.

they say college will change your life. i know because i said it. i wrote a poem about it. when i was eighteen i said i was going to take a bottle and a bottle-opener and then i was going to hop on a plane to america and then- fireworks and stars. the disneyland effect. step through these gates and all your anxieties will go away. everyone will live forever. your grandfather doesn't wish you were dead. and magic, oh, magic lives right here, under the skin of the clavicle, where all wishes are made. mouth on neck. a resuscitation activity.

but someone needs to cut the grass. each morning at eight a man in a green vest takes a lawnmower and drives it up and down the football field across from this building. the lawnmower is loud. it reverberates in my head and makes it hard to concentrate on pretty much anything, so i get out my earplugs and i sit there in the static and resign myself to half an hour of nothing. i can only begin to imagine what it must be like to be the person sitting there, at the heart of all the commotion, making eight am on a saturday morning sound like a symphony orchestra. and then i stop trying. because imagining pain is nearly the same thing as feeling it. because our brains know how to do more than they're worth. we could replace the imagination with a photograph and a virtual-reality headset and it wouldn't live up to half the stuff that goes on behind the eyelids, to the cinematic masterpiece that we wake up to each morning. this is why we tell such good stories. this is also why we struggle to finish them.

this morning i woke up with a turquoise ocean on my tongue. in my sleep i walked to the end of the world, where a single island stood guard over a sliver of sea so bright it hurt my eyes to look at it. the island was populated with ferns and palm trees and flowers in shades of pink and silver, brimming with a vitality that stood frozen in a motif of life itself, the ferns not swaying, the flowers empty of bees. it looked like a place you went to die. we stood there staring at this snapshot of death until my mother and sister got up and began to run back towards the center of the world, to its beating red heart, and i scrambled to catch up to them but everything in my backpack had fallen out somewhere in between reaching this raft of terror and stopping to look up at the gray sky and i began to panic. i bent over to pick up notebooks, pencils, a crumpled water bottle, all the while begging the others to wait for me. just give me a minute. just give me a little more time.

under the assumption that people can and always will hurt other people, every relationship becomes a matter of discerning who will make the first cut and who will be the one left standing on stage, clutching a bloody arm and calling out for a friend who cannot reply. even the other half of your soul, narrated as such by the poets, can seek to end you. after all, self-destruction is in vogue again. it is the ultimate act of defiance against a state obsessed with keeping its citizens alive in the most horrible ways possible. it is also, always, unexpected.

under the assumption that life is a three hour long indie film about self-discovery, everything you do cannot and will not be held against you when you are twenty-eight and your boss digs up the old paper trail of who you were in college, unless you buried a body in the backyard with your best friend, freshman year. people change people change people. change. people change. people fall into rabbit holes and emerge with new hands, new eyes, new teeth. people do things. every day, we wake up and we make the decision to do things. sometimes the thing is going to the park. sometimes the thing is making breakfast.

either way, we are performing miracles. because motion is about dislocating yourself from the socket, about cutting the person out of the painting; even if you put them back in the same painting, the act of returning tips the scales significantly in favor of the heart. which beats, through all of this strange, repetitive violence, down the elevator, down the path that leads to the subway that you haven't been on since the start of february, when you believed in no one but yourself. little has changed since then. but you understand now. you are not heading for the promised place. you are the promised place; you are a promised person. you promised yourself when you were born that you would live to see the grass grow out after a long, dry winter. and now here you are, ready to live it all.

06.12.21

[professorpski]

Yarn Tastings, I Am For Them

I attended a yarn tasting organized by Yarn on Front, a shop in the little town of Dowagiac and discovered I am all for yarn tastings. The idea is that a company creates small samples of the new yarns in its lineup, in this case Berroco, so that you can play with them before committing to buying a skein or a bunch of skeins for a project. Then there is a little project, in this case a kerchief. The one pictured here was one of two knitted kerchief patterns offered by the shop; Berroco supplied a different knitted kerchief pattern than the one I began and my friend’s version looked very nice using all the yarn samples. There were also crochet patterns.

I say, “I began” because I abandoned my kerchief project when I found I kept splitting Remix Chunky (the yellow on the tip) when I did an e-loop cast on to add the fringes. Instead of continuing to make myself cranky, I switched to simple swatching and realized I would probably like Remix Chunky just fine for a circular sweater. I also liked Lucca, a luxury worsted weight that was half cashmere, see the brown on the kerchief sample.

To my surprise, what I really liked was Dulce, a mostly cotton blend with nylon, alpaca and wool which turned out to be fluffy and surprisingly easy to work with. The onyx color comes across as charcoal because of the small streaks of blue and of rust running through it. I showed the swatch to my husband and ended up buying enough to finish a scarf for him. I am pretty sure I would like to get my hands on some more of this yarn and ponder a sweater. 

In addition to trying out the yarns, I also learned an easy method for making e-loop cast-on, and most importantly while working with a mohair blend called Aerial Color: Do not yank on the mohair if you need to frog. My husband said that last sounded like a identification code for Cold War spies, but it meant a hopelessly snarly mess.

If your local yarn store or LYS isn’t organizing a yarn tasting, and you want to organize your own, you can have them get the kit drop-shipped to you according to the Berocco website: https://www.berroco.com/dropship/home-yarn-tasting-kit-fall-21

You can find Yarn on Front here: https://www.facebook.com/YarnOnFront/

[smallpotatoknitwear]

WIP blanket update 3/21/21

Here we go, another WIP blanket update! It’s been a good... two and a half? weeks since my last one, and I’m wrapping up a project, so I figured it was a good time for a new post!

Not pictured: Scrap c2c, because I finished it; Granny Square Quilt, because I’ve put it on pause until I finish my other Caron Chunky Cakes blankets; and Ten-Stitch, because I’ve only done one more color stripe on it, which isn’t even a whole “side” of the square of progress!

Mitered Granny Square

Remember this “came out of nowhere” blanket from the last WIP post? Well, now it’s the one I’m closest to finishing 😂 My goal is to finish this blanket by the end of the weekend—the end of today, that is. I took these photos yesterday, when I was about halfway through skein five out of six, and I’ve already finished that skein and started on the final one! So, here’s to hoping I can get through that skein today! Technically, after that, I’m still going to do a border, and I’m toying around with the idea of adding some flowers to the blanket, but we’ll see how it goes. No matter what, this blanket will be done before I get around to doing another WIP post!

Also, as you can see, Bunchy is a big fan of the yarn for this one, if nothing else. She went a little wild while I was trying to get these pictures taken, and tried to eat the yarn😅

Made using Caron Baby Cakes in Candy Heart and a US size H hook. I referenced this pattern on Ravelry to start, but modified it after the first few rows—and unfortunately, I really have no idea what I did to get to the point I’m at now for working on it.

Tilt-a-Whirl Afghan

I haven’t spent much time on this blanket lately, because I’ve devoted most of it to working on the mitered granny, but I have gotten a few more squares done! My goal is to have this blanket finished by 4/10. Why 4/10, you ask? Because that’s the one-year anniversary of the first quarantine blanket I made, and I want to be able to add this one into the count of blankets I’ve made since then (along with the mitered granny). It may not have the border 100% done by that time, because I plan to do a fairly wide one, but as long as the blanket itself is done, I’m counting it! 😂

In my last post, I put a mock-up of how I was altering the pattern of this blanket—switching colors around, and changing the outer rows to solid-color squares to sort of “frame” the pattern. I had the “frame” done in black in the mock-up, but found this lovely charcoal to use instead! I think the charcoal will be a little less stark of an outside edge than the black would have been, and since the blanket is sort of sunset themed/inspired, I think it’ll be better.

Total pieces: 7/42, plus four halves.

Granny Stripe Blanket

It’s back! This blanket didn’t pop up in my last WIP post, because I hadn’t worked on it, but I’ve done an additional... two? skeins, I think, since the last time y’all saw it. I’m really bad about breaking this one out to work on, so I have a new rule that any time I uncover the project basket, or move it, or anything like that, I have to do at least one row on the blanket—which means that I did a row even when I took it out to take this picture. That way, at least I’m making a tiny bit of progress on it! I’m loving the way the colors have pooled so far, but I’m glad that they’re sort of starting to switch around as I work also so that the blanket doesn’t end up being basically half and half 😅

This blanket is based on this Granny Stripe Baby Blanket pattern by Repeat Crafter Me, but I’ve made it about three times as wide—my starting chain was 309 stitches, instead of 109. I’m using Red Heart Super Saver Stripes in Retro Stripe, and a 4.0 mm hook.