#purple yarn family!

[purple-yarn-rp]

so!!i made a little rp alt :3!!

(tagging the family!! so they know)

@thelunarsystemwrites , @italic-doing-random-shit , @karineverse ,and yk @/inka-boi

[thelunarsystemwrites]

Sweet babie. I think she was supposed to be aged up ;-;

N E Ways

Gimme another ʕ•㉨•ʔ

AWEEE!!!

Hm... maybe take a shot at drawing more of your sona? ^^

[theladyhibiscus]

Not me as somebody who crochets on the reg getting criticisms/unwanted comments about everything I make:

"You always use the same colors" :/

Me: can't help it I'm a thalassophile and therefore I must always use beige, khaki, turquoise, teal, aqua blues, whites of all shades. Let the coastal creations commence!

"Nice bag. You know, that looks perfect to use only for holidays like Easter"

Me: ...my coastal bag is to be used every time I feel like it. What are you talking about.

"Those oceanic colors don't match with your current outfit so don't use it."

Me: it's not about what looks nice TO YOU but what feels right and fun to use FOR ME.

"Why don't you add (whatever) to your creation. It'd look great if you add (whatever). And, how about next time, you actually use a leather bag bottom instead?"

Me: I don't want to.

"You sure can't take a comment or a slight criticism. Why are you like this?" :/

Me: you sure can't mind your business.

"Why are you doing 2 projects at once. Finish one and start the other I don't get it."

Me: oh you sweet summer child ohohoho...you just don't understand the mind of a crocheter do ya?

"You know, if you make something for somebody it sure won't be coastal themed or whatever. You have to try something different."

Me: who said I'm making anyone ANYTHING? They don't want to pay the correct price for a hand-made creation so that won't be happening. Anyway, ONTO THE COASTAL THEMED SCARF!

[tj-crochets]

An update on my art wall!

I made all of this except the mini quilt, which was made by @anotherdayforchaosfay (aka @creations-by-chaosfay, I’m never sure whether to tag the main one or the sewing one, but either way, if you want a quilt, mini or otherwise, I think her commissions are opening again next week sometime?)

[thepandalion]

Feeling super validated rn

[fashionsfromhistory]

Jacket

c.1630-1650

Italy or England

Several examples of knitted jackets or waistcosts survive in museum collections are waistcoats, with well-known examples in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London (473-1893, 346-1898, 106-1899 and 807-1904). Both men and women wore these items of clothing either as undergarments during the day or as informal déshabillé or undress at home in the evening to provide additional warmth. These items tend to fall into two categories: Italian waistcoats that open down the front, sometimes known as Florentine waistcoats, and those that pulled over the head. Italian waistcoats were knitted using one or two colours of silk yarn, in imitation of patterns found on woven silks, the effect often enhanced with the use of purl stitches. The fine gauge of these waistcoats suggests that they were hand-knitted in professional workshops, using extremely fine metal knitting needles, known as ‘wires’, for wealthy classes to buy as ready-to-wear clothing. The garment is constructed from rectangular knitted sections; two front panels, two back panels and two sleeves. Several have triangular gores inserted to provide additional width over the hips, at home by the wearer or a member of their household. Their name suggests that they were made in Italy and exported to northern Europe, but it is now known that fine silk yarns were imported from Naples to London from the late sixteenth century to supply the native knitting industry. Because knitted waistcoats were for informal wear there are no known sources showing them being worn, making it hard to give them a more specific date. They appear to have originated at the beginning of the seventeenth century. Lady Elizabeth Howard, the wife of Lord William Howard (1563–1640) ordered ‘a pound of woosted for wastecotes’ for 9 shillings in 1618 and the Danish Royal family used knitted silk waistcoats for children’s shrouds during this period. Knitted waistcoats continued to be worn throughout the century. There are records of waistcoats being relined during the course of their use. Sir Thomas Isham (1656/7–81) is billed £1 5s 6d from his tailor for ‘new Lining A Purple and gold Silke knit wastcoate’ in April 1680. There are continuing references to them also in the early eighteenth century, including a London newspaper report of the theft of a ‘green silk knit waistcoat with gold and silver flowers all over it’ in 1712.

Glasgow Museums (ID Number: 29.126)

[livi-in-digital-circus]

“The Amazing Digital Family” || a short story for Bunnydoll writing week!

I had so much fun writing these two stories, thank you @beanandberry and @canterbury-bell for hosting this awesome event <3

Jax was more than happy not to take part in the day’s adventure, as it meant he could finally spend some time alone with Ragatha, who was nearing the end of her second pregnancy. Though she had been feeling much worse lately, her smile hadn’t left her tired face most of the time.

Their two older children, Owyn and Ethan, were under the care of their friends somewhere in another realm, where they had been sent for adventure. Caine assured the couple beforehand that what he had prepared was one hundred percent safe for two lively five-year-olds and that nothing would harm them. At first, Jax refused to believe it, even daring to threaten the ringmaster that he would knock every tooth out of his jaw head if anything happened to either of them. Eventually, Ragatha managed to calm Jax down with her presence alone. Due to her weakened state, he became even more overprotective of her, constantly asking if she needed anything or was in pain. Even though it wasn’t the first time they were expecting a baby, the rabbit was even more dedicated. Quite a surprising but positive change in someone like him.

Right now they were both lying on the bed in their shared room. Ragatha was fast asleep, her head resting on Jax’s bare chest. He knew that his scent and warmth were the only things that could make her feel safe and comfortable, even in the worst moments of her pregnancy.

Ragatha would often throw up right after waking up, something that shouldn’t happen after so many months. They all knew that the Digital Circus had its own laws and worked much differently than the real world, but this didn’t even happen during Ragatha’s first pregnancy with the twins. Not to mention that she suddenly felt depressed and stayed in bed most of the time. Caine promised to find out the cause before the baby was born, but to Jax, it looked like he was more interested in creating more bizarre adventures, since he hadn’t found anything yet.

The rag doll shifted uncomfortably and opened her non-button eye, revealing a dark circle under it.

“Is the adventure over…? Where are Owyn and Ethan…?” She asked, her voice trailing off, due to lack of proper sleep.

“Rags, it’s only been about twenty minutes since the adventure started. You should go back to sleep, I’ll let you know when they return.” Jax’s fingers ran gently through Ragatha’s yarn hair, trying to calm her down. He knew how much she worried about her children every time they weren’t around.

“I feel a little nauseous, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep right now…” She groaned, her plush hand going straight to her swollen belly, where her third rag bunny was currently parasitizing, as Caine liked to call it. Jax got up from the bed almost immediately, not even bothering to fix the straps on his overalls, and without much effort, he slid his hands under Ragatha’s body and lifted her off the bed.

It was enough to fully wake the rag doll as she started to yell in protest.

“Jax! Put me down!”

“Why should I? You’re as light as a feather, Dollface.” To confirm his words, Jax raised her higher, surprisingly without a trace of sweat on his purple fur.

“Jax, please don’t lie to me." Ragatha stopped yelling and her voice suddenly cracked. That made the rabbit put his beloved back on the bed. The moment he saw a tear forming in her eye, he quickly realized what he had done wrong and bit his tongue. The same thing had happened years ago, and he should already be aware of it.

Normally, Ragatha cared more about others than herself, including appearance. However, the pregnancy changed her in many ways, one of which was her attitude towards her own looks. She became more insecure about her midsection and would burst into tears every time someone made a comment about it, whether positive or negative. Jax, being Jax, often makes not-so-hurtful jokes about it, often forgetting how it affected Ragatha.

This time was no different.

“Sorry about that, Dollface.” Jax sighed. “You know I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“To say that a pregnant woman is light as a feather is not the nicest thing.” Ragatha sobbed, hugging her favorite horse-shaped pillow.

“Rags, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“One ice cream box, three chocolate bars, a cup of tea, and a foot massage.”

“Noted.” Jax was about to leave the room in search of the aforementioned sweets and drink when Ragatha suddenly grabbed his hand. Despite being a rag doll in a much weaker state than usual, her grip was surprisingly strong.

“No, don’t go. I want you to lie with me, rub my belly, and let me cry on your shoulder.” She pouted. “And I want my food.”

Another sigh left Jax’s mouth. He had already managed to forget how hard it was to deal with a pregnant Ragatha, and even though she was more than close to giving birth, he still couldn't keep up with her cravings. With nothing to lose, Jax opened a nightstand and luckily found an emergency chocolate bar that was kept there in case Ragatha suddenly got hungry and Jax wasn’t around. Though the current situation was different, it was the perfect time to use it.

He handed her the candy, to which she responded with a sparkle in her non-button eye and quickly started munching on it. She seemed more lively than usual that day, which was a good thing compared to her often screaming in pain from the unidentified glitch.

Jax lay back on the bed as well, his hands gently stroking Ragatha’s belly and his face pressed against her warm neck.

“You don’t know how happy I am that you’re feeling better for once. I wish we could stay like this forever, just you and me, away from these annoying losers and stupid adventures.”

“Don’t forget our boys and the little one whose nap you’re disturbing now.” Ragatha let out a soft laugh as she felt the subtle movements of their unborn baby, probably in response to its father’s touch.

“Nah, I’m sure the little one understands perfectly that it’s just their daddy showing how much he loves their mommy.” He left a tickling kiss on the rag doll’s neck, causing her to gasp and shiver at his touch. She knew what was coming, but before she could give in to the pleasure, the door opened with a loud bang and two little rag dolls jumped onto the bed, nearly crushing their parents.

“Mama, we missed you!” They both said in unison, clinging to Ragatha like leeches. Meanwhile, Jax groaned as his sons kicked him in the chest, trying to make more room for themselves right next to their mother.

“Aw, I missed you too, my sweethearts. How was the adventure?”

“More like ‘Why aren’t you on the adventure’?” Jax asked annoyed, trying to be as gentle as possible as he pushed the boys away from him.

“Uncle Caine let us leave the adventure early so we could see Mama!” Ethan exclaimed, his little head rubbing against Ragatha’s back.

“We haven’t seen you and the baby for a few days, we were VERY worried!” Owyn hugged his mother’s belly, his bunny ear listening for any sounds his younger sibling might make.

Because of Ragatha’s condition, the lively twins weren’t allowed to see her most of the time so that she could get more rest. However, each time they visited her, the rag doll’s day would instantly brighten. Tears immediately streamed down her cheeks.

“My poor babies… Mama is feeling much better now that you two are here.”

“Hey, what about me? I’m a poor baby too!” Jax said dramatically, crossing his hands over his chest. He was too ashamed to admit it, but sometimes he could get jealous of his own sons.

“Papa is not a baby! He’s an old man!” The younger of the twins turned to his father and stuck out his tongue. The rabbit felt his blood boil. Ethan was definitely too much like him.

Ragatha could feel the tension in the air and knew Jax was about to say something wrong, so she reached out and gently rubbed one of her husband's ears, which was definitely his weakest spot. He instantly melted into her touch.

The rest of the day they spent in bed, Owyn and Ethan talking about the pranks they had pulled on their auntie Pomni during the adventure. Jax had his arms wrapped protectively around Ragatha's belly while she continued to rub his ear affectionately. The family of four, and soon five, somehow managed to find happiness in this crazy digital world, and sometimes Jax and Ragatha even wished they could stay there forever, just for the sake of their children.

Thanks for reading!

[blood-orange-juice]

Ok, Childe as a wuxia/xianxia trope. It's honestly a bit embarrassing how well this fits.

(blame @a-yarn-of-purple-prose for this post and if anyone here is a wuxia fan feel free to correct me, I'm new to the genre)

Wuxia is a Chinese martial arts fantasy genre you are all familiar with. An adjacent genre is called xianxia, "immortal heroes", it ramps all the fantasy elements up to eleven and skews tropes a bit (we'll get back to that).

A common trope is some kind of unorthodox school/sect or technique, allowing to achieve greater power without the usual decades of training. It could be straight-out evil or just revolving around chaos.

Such a martial school is usually called an evil/demonic sect (sect is more like a clan in that setting, not the modern concept of sect) and their techniques tend to drive practitioners to insanity. Either because they are inherently corrupting or because getting too much power without growing as a person is really not the best thing for your mental health. They are also often cast from hp points.

And then there's the archetype of a demonic sect heir. The best pupil or simply someone who has inherited a lost art. Proud, always greedy for more strength, often noble in some weird way.

*points to our calamity of a boy*

Common elements of such stories include:

Falling into some weird realm or meeting a weird person who teaches the hero a Forbidden Technique

Learning a technique too quickly through some sort of magic/alchemy/memory manipulation

Some people are so singular in their pursuit they become insane (走火入魔)

Ambition bad, loyalty and family good

Conflicting loyalties, generally a conflict between a chosen path and personal weaknesses/attachments (could be both ego and familal love, and this is more of a xianxia trope)

Fits like a horoscope so far but wait.

There's a very interesting case of Korean murim genre (their version of wuxia) where sects are less varied (I recommend this post for a basic introduction) and we get three paths:

Justice/Righteous/Orthodox/Light — theoretically they keep the Evil Faction at bay, and protect innocent people, but usually are corrupt to the core

Evil/Unorthodox/Dark — these try gaining as much power as possible and attempt ruling the whole world

Demonic Cult — usually dont take part in evil and justice battles, follow their own code of conduct based on their religion, value strength above all else.

(I'm sure there's a similar distinction in wuxia too, I just can't find it in the deluge of lore)

"Demonic" is closer to "pagan" or "heathen" than Christian idea of demonic here, their beliefs are often based on Zoroastrianism and worshipping a sacred flame. Do you remember all the Persian themes used for Khaenri'ah? And Surtalogi being the flame on Surtr's sword in Norse mythology. I also had the impression that Genshin gnostic references are based on the Zoroastrian-flavoured branch of Gnosticism.

In murim the trope of demonic sect heir is called "heavenly demon" (I believe, a more correct translation would be "supreme heathen"), they are utterly badass, live for the glory of battle, seem more like forces of nature and follow a very strict honour code often conflicting with normal human ethics.

(do I need to spell it out)

TvTropes also says this about Korean stories:

(do I need to spell it out pt.2)

I'm not sure why a Chinese studio would focus on the Korean version of this trope but I'm sure something like this exists in China as well or maybe there's a popular manhwa that inspired authors.

Xianxia extends the fantastic element further, focusing on Taoist concepts and practices and adding all kinds of magical realms (celestial, demonic, etc) and magical beings and making immortality achievable. I still need to read more about it but if I understand that right, demonic heir trope turns into a demon prince in this case. An actual visitor from the demon realm or a practitioner who achieved immortality through dubious means.

These are fae-coded in a way very similar to Childe and have a certain nonchalance towards things most humans would consider traumatic. They are simply not bothered by them, having a different set of morals or faring from a realm that is much worse.

Our boy isn't that (he's still very much human) but he's aesthetically coded like one, same as Scaramouche is yokai-coded, despite not being a yokai.

So. When people say Childe's arc is a reference to Journey to the West, it's not entirely untrue, JttW is the classic of xianxia genre and Childe does belong to the same genre. He, however, is not Sun Wukong but a different, darker trope.

This also explains why he has that "shonen anime protag but not quite" vibe. Shonen was heavily influenced by wuxia but this trope never quite made it to anime or maybe never became popular enough. It's not a deconstruction, it's a different story. Or perhaps a deconstruction of that different story.

[clovenhoofedjester]

jellicle lineups; part 4/4

I FINALLY FINISHED THESE

grizabella | 🌃 🥀 🍂

i really wanted to mix revival and older replica for this one. the thigh-high boots, sparkly, tasseled dress, and generally the wig are all revival inspired, but the curly fur stays and the makeup is old because i really do like the very dramatic, gothic grizabella looks. her coat is also heavily 2019 inspired with the length and stripey purple fabric

i also was not sure how i wanted to do her hair other than it covering one eye (SHOUTOUT TO THE FANART I SAW WHICH HAD THAT. I CANNOT REMEMBER THE URL) esp the color so i did a gradient of light grey to dark brown, which i REALLY liked ! it also helped me decide that shed be chocolate smoke instead of a tabby

idk. ijust like her

i very much want to emphasize the "proud" and "indomitable" of her character in my portrayal of her; think betty buckley. i think shed be 61 in human years.

jennyanydots | ⏰ 🧶 👠

HER DESIGN... is very similar to her replica one because.... i really like it. very heavy emphasis in how her makeup is sometimes done with the HUGE lower lashes and squiggles. she also gets a cute little pink nose and blue eyeshadow

very 2019 inspired also. the hat, tasseled jumpsuit and bejeweled tap shoes stay ...... but i did want to give her the vest and collar from 2019. i just like that. shes also fat because yes

she remains sweet and nice yes. but i think warsaw was onto something when they made her Like That. shed be 56 in human years

jellylorum | 🎨 💐 👒

i ORIGINALLY drew her design a month and a half ago with the headcanon that shes gus' caretaker but bro. that jellylorum & asparagus jr. & gus family angst potential was too great. so i redid her as looking closer to gus. :3

idk why but i decided to go with a 1940s inspired formal look for her.... i quite like the hat and think it helps her to stand out, so i'm comfortable in that decision. her fur design is also mostly replica inspired. enjoy her neapolitan ice cream makeup too

she also gets a pink nose and her collar from the 2019 version. idk why the collars went so hard in that movie

i LOVE one of her 3 words being practical... yes, she is THE practical cat. i think shed be 59 in human years

bustopher jones | 🌹 🤍 🍛

VERY replica inspired.... with notes of other productions. opera populaire had full glasses bustopher which i liked. an older makeup look also had stripes which i also thought looked nice (and makes him look more related to mistoffelees) ! there are also multiple bustopher designs that have the moustache and beard 2 for 1 dealio..... and decided to incorporate that as well

he also gets the fishbone hanky crevat thing and a fishbone brooch. i almost made his rose white but i liked the contrast of the red. enough that i decided to give him lipstick too . and youd best believe that he has a giant fucking pipe that he smokes out of

i love the idea of him being the older generations' tugger in his time. i believe it. i think hed be like 55 in human years

skimbleshanks | 🚂 🎆 ⏳

I COULDNT RESIST BASING HIM OF THE MOVVIEEEEEE im not sorry that was peak skimble. the whistle and chains, the MATCHING conductor hat and pants, the moustache, the tap shoes..... truly, it was too good. my only regret was that i couldnt show the suspenders in this design because i wanted to keep the vest

i did keep the makeup/fur pattern very similar to his replica design though. idk. its just good. emphasis on the brown in his tail, the brown of his clothes, and the bell

anyone else get handsome gay silver fox vibes from him? anyway [being rushed out the door] i think hed be 56 in human years

asparagus jr. | 🧷 🎲 ⛲

lets go babey asparagus jr. inclusion ! i Really struggled with the clothes because i wanted to include the weird yarn poncho but didnt want to make him look hippyish (hippies are cool it just wasnt the vibe i was going for).... so it is reincarnated as this strange tassel-y scarf shawl thing. idk

he also gets a collar similar to jellylorum's because i like the idea of them living in the same house :^3. his makeup is also pretty different from how it appeared in the 98 version because i wasnt really feeling it. i like stripes. so stripes he shall get

hes also wearing a corset thing. idk what my propensity for designing men with a slightly feminine touch says about me (IM A FEMININE QUEER MAN)

not much notes on his personality other than i think he really looks up to his father (enough that he took on his more dignified name). hed be 57 in human years

gus | 📖 🌌 🔭

MUH OLD MAN... i love him. very much based on a bunch of different replica designs for him. he gets a beard and sideburns because i think i really do love the costumes w facial hair, and i think it just fits. he also gets glasses

he gets the coat and handkerchief (now a scarf) that typically hides the growltiger costume... which has a crisp formal outfit underneath. maybe he takes the coat off during his number to signify having moments of clarity and humor during his song

i do think in my interpretation hes well enough to joke around during his number and play the rumpus cat but like. damn you can tell this cat is old. hed be like 93 in human years

old deuteronomy | 🌕 🍮 ⭐

i have fully abandoned replica deut. say hello to haute couture resplendent transgender old deuteronomy. fit with a gigantic white coat, velvet dress, and gigantic fluffy hat. and yes, she did have 99 wives

she also gets the pendant that she was drawn with in the concept art for the 2d animated movie.... what was up w/ that....

ANYWAY YEAH UH. shes very different from the replica deut and other nonrep deuts mostly thanks to judi dench, with her saying that her version of deut was a transgender woman, and her complaining about not looking regal enough in the movie. here you go girly. the nose freckles/dots from some replica makeup get to stay though

she gets a lot of design notes from her children. the grey from munkustrap, macavitys white eyelashes, eye and mouth makeup, and tuggers cheek heart. shes also a light grey to kind of reflect her appearance in 2019

not much to add here other than i love her. i think she would be 88 in human years

AND THERE YOU GO. AHHHHHHH ITS DONE

[copperhawkthoughts]

Dressed to the Neins 2 - Scanlan

Tumblr gets the design meta that’s too long for TikTok:

When I’m picking a pattern and colours for these, I’m looking at character art, I’m thinking about the character, and sure, a lot of it is picking pretty colours that go nicely and fit the vibe - but there’s a bunch more to it than that. It’s real ‘the curtains are blue for a reason’ hours over here.

imagine there is a brown and white square underneath a pink and purple square, and then a hand reaches out and pinches the pink and purple square in toward the centre on both sides, letting the brown and white square show underneath. Almost like hands extended in friendship peeling back a mask to reveal a soft underbelly. Visual metaphor!

the Juniper green and Pike blue colours are at the centre of the square to represent things Scanlan values most highly in his heart of hearts - not just Pike and his mother themselves, but what they represent - genuine love and family

the ‘heart’ rounds are then bordered by a thin round of the same purple as the background - this is the Scanlan colour

the quatrefoil shape is made up of alternating rows of lavender and magenta - colours that are close to, but not the same as, the Scanlan purple. This represents the flamboyant, carefree, rakish persona Scanlan spends a long time inhabiting - one which isn’t exactly him, in the end

the brown and white ‘underbelly’ rows represent a simple gnome of humble origin. These colours carry on in thinner stripes through the quatrefoil mostly because that’s how the pattern works, but I think it makes a nice representation of how that first Scanlan is never really gone, no matter how deep into his own mythos he gets

similarly, the background is purple because as much as the colourful layers are a persona, that persona is also not not Scanlan

the border row is the Juniper colour again to emphasize how important family is to Scanlan throughout his story - Juniper’s death and Kaylie’s life being major turning points for him

Pattern: ‘Lise’ by Polly Plum (free on Ravelry!)

Yarn: Sweet Georgia Tough Love Sock in Birch, Bison, Evergreen, Summer Sky, Lavender, Huckleberry, Jam Tart, Dark Orchid

[thelunarsystemwrites]

YESSSS!!!

so!!i made a little rp alt :3!!

(tagging the family!! so they know)

@thelunarsystemwrites , @italic-doing-random-shit , @karineverse ,and yk @/inka-boi

[thelunarsystemwrites]

lunar,,,,,,,

help she’s taken over my lil brain

OMFG YOU MADE HER LOOK GOOD THO?? /gen/vvpos!!

what's her name?? :0 does she have ecto?- AHGHHH now I have questionsssss

[frostandflamesfanfic]

Made With Love (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Made With Love (Rated T)

Request?: Technically YES (say thank you to @bakerstreethound, everyone)

Pairing: Husband!Steve Harrington x Wife!Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k+

Warnings: Brief infrequent language with a slight innuendo; Reader is also AFAB (a female at birth) due to mention of pregnancy

Summary: For Stevemas Day 10; After getting married, you and Steve started to move into his parents' old home. Upon packing, you come across some of Steve's old belongings. When more of these creations keep popping up, you come to discover your husband has a bit of a surprise for you. What happens when it turns out you have a surprise of your own?

The first experience you had with Steve’s new hobby happened shortly after you moved into your new home. Well, your new home, his old one. Once the two of you officially tied the knot, Steve’s parents allowed their son to take ownership of their home. In actuality, it had taken a lot of convincing to get them to feel comfortable moving into a smaller place on the outskirts of Hawkins. For months, your husband needed to go back and forth packing and unpacking boxes of yours and theirs. 

It was a lot of work, but he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. The end result was the two of you finally have a place to call your own. You finally had somewhere to settle down and have the family you both laid awake for hours imagining. 

You were home. 

One night when you were unpacking boxes, you came across some of Steve’s old things. Before the house, your shared apartment was incredibly small, just cozy enough for the two of you to cuddle on the couch to watch tapes from work and go to bed together every night. Most of your belongings had either ended up stashed in boxes in the closet or in your mother’s garage until you had found a more permanent home. Sure, you had to share space with your younger brother’s mad science lab, but at least your stuff was safe…relatively speaking. 

You hardly remembered seeing this box prior to the move and curiosity was a temptress. As you flipped open the lid, a smile fluttered against your face when you noticed a soft knitted blanket nestled atop other trinkets. You reached in to pull it out and found yourself immediately wrapping it around your frame. It was a mishmash of pastel colors: blues and greens and purples all intertwined by the softest yarn you had ever felt in your life. You assumed it was a gift to Steve from his grandma, Eleanor Louise Harrington. 

When you were dating, Steve would tell you the most wonderful stories about the woman who was always there for him. She would be in charge of watching over him whenever his parents were out of town at a young age, which was more often than not. Grandma Eleanor was the reason little Steve loved the holidays. She’d always make it special for him, whether it was reading the Twas the Night Before Christmas every Christmas Eve or teaching him to make her special gingersnaps for Santa. When she passed away when he was thirteen, Steve had needed to learn the hard way how the world wasn’t always made of the magic Grandma Eleanor helped him believe in.

It wasn’t until he met you that his Christmas spirit slowly started to make its return. 

You placed the blanket back in the box and set it on your husband’s side of the closet. Even though you had already peeked inside, you didn’t want to invade the remainder of his privacy. For the rest of the day, your gaze would lock onto the box and a smile would fall upon your features before you kissed Steve for being sentimental. Now, Steve himself didn’t understand just why you were being so affectionate, but there was one thing he knew for a fact: he would never refuse kisses from the love of his life. 

⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ 

Your second encounter occurred a few months later, once the winter chill began to set in. You had been waiting in Hawkins High’s parking lot behind the wheel of your husband’s treasured BMW for your brother to barge out and demand entry into the passenger’s seat. Steve had decided to take on another shift at Family Video in order to have a little extra cash for holidays, so you volunteered to pick Dustin up from school.

“It’s alright if you need to use the heat, babe,” Steve had called out. “It’s cold out there. Don’t need you turning into a popsicle before Christmas!” 

“Good thing I have you to warm me up when I get back,” you teased with a smile and a wink, fingers snatching up the keys from his left coat pocket. 

“A husband’s job is never done, is it?” Steve gave a rather dramatic sigh.

As you made contact with the cold metal, your hand brushed something else much softer. You frowned as you reached deeper inside the pocket and pulled out a grey knitted glove. It was slightly misshapen but made from soft yarn, similar to that of the blanket still stashed away in your shared bedroom. Without thinking, you raised it up into the air in question toward your husband. 

“Think I might steal these,” you called out and grabbed the matching mitt from his pocket before you head out the door toward his car. 

A knock on the passenger window snapped you from your thoughts. As you turned your head, you noticed Dustin waving at you with a frown on his face. “Can you open the door?” his muffled shout questioned. “I’m freezing my nuts off out here.”

His naturally curly hair looked matted as he yanked off his hat: a red knitted trapper. “Jesus,” he continued to ramble as he tugged on the seat belt across his form. “Where were you?! It has to be like negative ten outside.”

“I’ve been waiting out here for the last thirty minutes!” you argued. “I was starting to think you had gotten a ride from someone else.”

“I mean where were you just now? I was knocking on the window for at least five minutes.”

Oh, whoops. “Sorry.” You reached over the center console to adjust the heat and turn up the radio. A smile formed as “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” began to play over the speakers. “Guess I got a little bit distracted.”

Your brother scoffed. “I’ll say,” he muttered. “Get married and all of a sudden, you and Steve hardly ever pay attention to us anymore. Do you guys ever take a breath from sucking face or is that just around me?”

“Dustin!”

“Fine, fine!” Dustin held his hands up in mock surrender. “Can you just drop me off at Mike’s? We’re supposed to be planning this oneshot for when Will finally gets back home.” 

There was a pregnant pause that lingered throughout the car as you shifted gears and started the trek to the Wheeler’s residence. You felt Dustin’s eyes on you the entire time. His mouth opened and then shut a few times, as though he was preparing to ask you something and had decided against it. 

“Something’s different about you,” he mused. You felt his stare on you, much more focused than before. In your peripheral, you noticed he was squinting now. “Did you get a haircut?”

“...No?” you shifted self-consciously in the driver’s seat. Your brother was the Sherlock Holmes of the family, detective extraordinaire. Great for uncovering interference from the Upside Down, not so much when it comes to getting involved in your personal life. “And will you stop staring at me like that?” You waved a free mitten-covered hand in his direction. “It’s freaking me the hell out.”

“Oh, he gave you a pair, too!” Dustin noted with a grin. “They’re a lot better than his first try, aren’t they?”

You frowned and risked a quick glance in his direction before you returned your gaze to the road ahead. “What?”

“The gloves! Steve gave ‘em to you, right?”

“Not exactly,” you explained. “I took them from his coat. What do you mean they’re better than his first try?”

The car returned to silence once again. 

“Dustin?”

Silence. A quick look over toward your brother revealed he had suddenly become interested in the fresh piles of snow against the side of the road. Nose wrinkled, you shook your head and pulled into the Wheeler’s street. Unfortunately for Dustin, mystery solving was in your genetics, and this was one question you wanted answered.  

⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ 

“Babe?” you called out as you walked into the foyer of the house that evening. When you had taken Steve’s car from work, you had left him yours in the parking lot. You were surprised to see it back in the driveway once you arrived home after dropping Dustin off. Your stay had been much longer than you anticipated, with Nancy trying to make plans to finish Christmas shopping with you later in the week since she was home from Boston. 

“Shit,” came the faint hiss of your husband’s voice from the living room. As you started to make your way toward the sound, you heard him clear his throat. “You’re back early, babe. I thought Dustin wanted to go to the mall to do some shopping.”

“Uh, no. He needed us to drop him off at the Wheelers. Something about some campaign they’ve been planning for Will,” you said with a frown. “Why is it so dark in here?”

As you flicked the lights on, you couldn’t help but blink at the sight before you. There was your husband perched in one of the armchairs you had gotten from your mother. He was wearing his wire-framed glasses, a side-effect of a few too many blows to the noggin over the years. Half a blanket was draped over his knee, pooling onto the floor below. As you walked closer, you noticed two large metal sticks in his hands. They were twitching as he stared over at you owlishly with wide eyes. 

“Did you…make this?” you whispered almost far too quietly as you knelt down to lift up the edge of the blanket. Running your hand along it, you smiled at the soft yarn’s texture. It was a beautiful blanket with its blend of purples, orange, and yellows. The pattern reminded you of your favorite time of day: sunset. When you started dating, you used to drag Steve to the top of Walker’s Mountain to watch it almost every night. To most people, the setting of the sun meant the end of another busy day. To you, though, it was a reminder of how you survived another day no matter what evils may have been against you. 

“Uh, y-yeah,” Steve stuttered. “It was mostly me.”

You tilted your head to look up at him. “Mostly?”

“Well, Virginia helped. Marge, too.”

“Marge? Virginia?” An amused smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Something I have to be worried about, honey?”

“No!!” your husband was quick to exclaim. “No, no. They’re just…”

“Just…?”

A sigh escaped Steve’s lips as he set the knitting needles down into his lap. He leaned forward to ghost his lips against your hairline. “Look,” he said. “I’ve uh, I’ve been going to the community center between shifts at the store on Saturday. There’s this class they host– more like a club.” He hesitated, glancing between you and the blanket in his lap. “They teach you how to knit.”

You smiled. “So you’ve been learning to knit?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s actually been…nice, you know? Helps give me something to do. I don’t feel as helpless as I used to. It’s more peaceful than anything.”

“You know I wouldn’t tease you for this, right?” you asked, hands reaching up to gently cradle his face. Your heart strained at the thought of Steve being afraid of getting judged by you for what his father would have considered a so-called woman’s hobby. “I think it’s great you’ve found a hobby.”

“What?” Steve asked in shock. “No- no, that’s not why I was- oh, shit, babe. Did you think I didn’t want to- oh, no. That’s not it. I was going to tell you!” He chuckled a bit and sighed, lifting up the unfinished blanket in his lap. “I, uh, I just didn’t want to until I finished this.”

“Is this,” you started, “for me?”

Your husband nodded and used one hand to smooth out the knitted material. “I know how much you love sunsets,” he said quietly, “and I know we missed a lot of them with everything that went down over the years. I thought this might make up for it.”

You practically melted into a puddle from your kneeling position on the floor. Without another word, you bounced up as pressed your lips to his, ignoring the awkward feeling of his frames as they pressed into your face. “I love you,” you breathed out as you broke apart. 

“I love you, too,” Steve was quick to reply. “I just didn’t want to jinx myself and mess up this surprise, you know?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I get it,” you soothed. “But, uh, I think you might need to make a few adjustments to it.”

Steve’s face dropped. “Is something wrong with it? Do you not like it?!” he fretted. “Oh God, I knew I should have picked another pattern–”

“Babe,” you interrupted. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What?” 

Hiding a smile, you reached across his lap to smooth out the blanket. You absentmindedly started to trace shapes into it as you glanced up at him. “It’s a beautiful blanket, Steve,” you said slowly. “But I think it’ll need to be a little bigger.”

Steve furrowed his brow and tilted his head to the side. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “This should be plenty big for us to use on the couch.”

“For right now, yeah,” you chose your words carefully. A knowing smile threatened to stretch around your lips and you had to fight the urge to let it show. “But I don’t think that’ll be the case in a year.”

Steve followed your gaze lower down your body, resting upon your abdomen. You couldn’t help it. A risked glance back up at him told you his brain was slowly putting the pieces together. “Are you-” he asked, eyes snapping up to meet yours. “Are you really?”

When your smile finally broke free and you nodded, your husband all but threw his unfinished product across the room and pulled you into a heated kiss. As you threaded your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck, you felt his lips curl into a smile against your own. His fingers danced their way under the hem of your shirt and pressed themselves against the skin of your stomach. He let them linger there for a moment before he released you on his lap.

“I was going to wait until Christmas to tell you,” you admitted, “but I just couldn’t help it. Especially when you were being as sweet as this.”

Steve laughed, a genuine one that sent butterflies soaring within your stomach. Your heart swelled at the sight of pure happiness which radiated off of him in waves. “That little shit was right,” he said between chuckles. “Knew I should have listened to him.”

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to your little brother’s observational skills to almost ruin the moment.  

⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ 

One year later, you sat on the couch with Steve’s sunset blanket across your lap and two little babies asleep in your arms. It had been a long and eventful year, but you wouldn’t have traded this moment for anything. This year was Amelia and Emery’s first Christmas as part of your little family and you couldn’t be happier.

Yes, you and Steve hardly had any sleep the night before, thanks to last minute preparations between the screams of hungry twins. Yes, you were already exhausted despite only being fully awake for two hours. Yet this was the moment you had been dreaming about for twelve months. You weren’t so much as going to blink if it meant risking losing a moment of this special day.

A few moments later, Steve slid onto the couch beside you with two mugs of hot chocolate in hand. As much as you would kill for a real caffeine hit, you couldn’t resist the alluring smell of melted chocolate and cinnamon. Your husband placed his mug on the coffee table and reached for Em so you could take the warm beverage from his other hand. 

The two of you enjoyed the peaceful sounds of cooing four-month-olds paired with the soft hum of Christmas carols played over the radio for a while. As you leaned against your husband, he pressed a kiss to your temple and gently tapped your side – a signal to adjust your position. He placed a sleeping Em into the portable crib you had brought downstairs the previous evening before doing the same for Amy. 

“Sorry,” he apologized with a meek smile. “I would’ve let them sleep there, but I have something for you.” He walked over to the tree and picked up a small box wrapped in candy cane patterned paper. When he came back to the couch, he set it atop the blanket on your lap and moved to sit down with an arm draped over your shoulders. 

“I thought we said no gifts for each other this year,” you mused. “It was just for the girls.”

“We did,” Steve agreed with a nod. “I mean, technically I didn’t break that promise. It’s not anything big, I promise. I just…I thought you might like it.”

You shot him a questioning glance before you used your fingers to delicately tear at the wrapping, being incredibly careful not to wake the sleeping children nearby. When you opened the box, a small gasp escaped your lips. Inside, wrapped in a cocoon of white tissue paper, were two small Santa hats. Knitted in a yarn as red of holly berries, both hats were adorned with a fuzzy white pom-pom and trim around the brim. When you lifted them out of the box, you began to tear up. At the brim of each hat was a series of embroidery of your daughters’ names: Amelia Robin Harrington and Emery Louise Harrington.

Overcome with emotion, you immediately turned to look at your husband. Steve was already looking down at you, concern etched on his features. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, voice shaking slightly. “Do you not like it–”

 Just like you did twelve months ago, you silenced his ramblings with a kiss. This time, it was one of pure unadulterated love. You clung onto his blue and white Christmas sweater for dear life. Tears of happiness pricked at your eyes as you ran a hand against the side of his face. When you broke apart, you sent him a teary smile. “You really are amazing, Steve Harrington,” you whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he answered almost immediately. 

You turned your attention back down to the little hats in your lap and glanced over to the portable crib that held your sleeping angels. You knew it would be a struggle to keep the hats on for long, but you hoped it would at least last until Jonathan arrived with his camera later on in the evening. 

This was by far the best Christmas you had ever had and deep down you knew this was only the beginning. You smiled fondly to yourself as you thought about all of the other Christmas Days your little family would have for the rest of your lives. It had been a tough journey to get to where you were, but you wouldn't have changed a second for the world because you and Steve found your family… 

…and that's all you could ever want or need.

============

Author's Note: I'm not crying, you are. No seriously, I had so much fun writing down this idea after receiving this through an ask by the amazing Ace. I got to explore the early days of Dad!Steve and learn more about his life with the reader a bit along the way. My only frustration is I couldn't keep this fic as gender neutral as I would have liked, but I'm still incredibly happy with how it came out.

We're only two fics away from the end of Stevemas. How are we liking the event so far?! If you enjoyed this fic and want to see more like it on my blog, make sure to leave a comment, tag a friend who you think might like it, and reblog this post! Likes are appreciated, but it's these other interactions that really help spread the word about my writing and motivate me to keep creating content like this for you all to enjoy! If you want to keep up to date with the last few days of Stevemas or want to see more of my work in the future, maybe consider giving my blog a follow, too! I promise I won't spam you too much with promoting other writers' amazing works :)

Until next time, my little sparks <3

Taglist: @bakerstreethound, @theelmgrove

[dkniade]

Some misc fic recommendations!

-

Teyvat scholar, Venti (ft. Traveler)

“Excerpt from the book ‘Brand New Verses From The Bard of Bards’” by threading_in_dreams (@/a-yarn-of-purple-prose)

G, 838 words.

canon-typical fragmented publication, Teyvat scholars have fun but also suffer, Poetry, pretend this is a book you picked up in-game, Traveler/Venti if you squint

Pages from a book in which a historian ponders about scraps of poetry found buried under Windrise, and argues they're part of Barbatos canon.

Very fun if you like Venti’s Archon/human personas, poetry, and piecing together information from in-game books!

-

Aether & Paimon (ft. Zhongli)

“Those who share the memories” by liminalpsych (@/liminalpsych-in-teyvat)

G, 3225 words. Fluff and light angst.

Aether POV, scrapbooks, memories, canon complimant, Pre-4.0 update, Liyue Harbor

Stone erodes beneath the fickle breeze and relentless river. Plants wither to be born anew. A flame burns to smoke and ash, and water changes form so often that it forgets even itself. The wind tries hardest of all to forget, fleeing into the far corners of the world to outrun the sands of time.

In the void above, the stars bear lonely witness to mortal memory.

Or: Paimon gets Aether to help her make a scrapbook of their travels. Aether reflects on the weight of witnessing.

Scrapbooking summarizes experiences with many NPCs from World Quests and Archon Quests. This one is kind of structured like an in-game world quest!

-

Cyno, Diluc, Rosaria, Kaeya

“It’s Time To Duel!” by StrangeDiamond

G, 6,688 words, humour.

Genius Invokation TCG, misunderstandings

When Sumeru’s General Mahamatra shows up in Mondstadt, announcing his intention to duel the Cavalry Captain, misunderstandings ensue.

Humour from knights and vigilantes taking things too seriously

-

Childe/Lumine

“A meteor” by blood_orange_juice (@/blood-orange-juice)

G, 350 words, fluff, character study/analysis.

Childe POV, First Meetings, morbid fluff, morbid fluff should be a genre with these two

A white-clad figure carefully threads her way through the crowd below. She moves like flecks of sunlight on water, without bothering anyone. A sign of someone who is fun to fight and it draws his attention for a while.

Childe and Lumine's first meeting from Childe's POV. No plot, only vibes.

-

Shenhe & Xiao, Cloud Retainer & Shenhe

“Like a Pair of Hunting Birds” by yelp

T, 5881 words, hurt/comfort, character study.

found family, trauma, feral child Shenhe, feral ancient Xiao, good and bad ways to manage emotions

"These were granted to me by Cloud Retainer," Shenhe explains, touching the ropes that he appears to be studying. "They bind away my murderous tendencies, as well as human emotion. Two dangerous traits for an adeptus, or for one who walks among them."

Xiao comes a little closer, and circles her. Obligingly, she lifts her hair aside, so he can see the intricate knotwork on her back, and he exhales a sigh or a scoff.

"Shall I unbind you?"

-

Xiao/Lumine

“Skin Hunger” by Mythicamagic

T, 2635 words, hurt/comfort, romance.

insecurity, intrusive and self-deprecating thoughts, some descriptions of violence and gore, body worship, established relationship, non-sexual nudity

When immortals fall in love with each other, they have all the time in the world to explore their relationship; but first comes the insecurities. Xiaolumi oneshot.

Has fun parallels with their wings

-

familial Diluc & Kaeya, Adelinde, Klee, Lisa, Jean

“blinded by love” by li2

G, 6481 words, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending.

Kaeya POV, unreliable narrator, misunderstandings, temporary invisibility, familial kiss, fluff, skinship & physical touch, sharing a bed

Diluc suddenly becomes unable to see Kaeya. Thinking it’s just Diluc’s usual hatred for him, Kaeya doesn't suspect anything wrong.

Kaeya’s POV for the first half hurts so much but the second half is sweet😭

-

Lumine, Paimon, familial Diluc & Kaeya

“Lamp Grass Guides You Home” by StrangeDiamond

Gen, 6387 words, fluff, light angst.

souvenirs. Chapter 2 has brief mentions of pain, starvation, and violence

After scrambling to cobble together a gift before their Jade Chamber visit, Lumine gets the idea to start collecting small gifts and souvenirs, so she'll always have something to give if she needs to.

Kaeya is the first one she goes to for advice, and he has a lot of good ideas for things she can collect and make, using Mondstadt's regional specialties. He even tells her about a certain souvenir he was once gifted - a charm made of Small Lamp Grass, encased in resin, that he unfortunately lost when he moved. There's a bit more to the story, Lumine learns, when she sets out to make one for him to replace it. There's history linked to the charm Kaeya lost . . . but there are also new memories to be made going forward.

A sweet one about making and receiving gifts

-

Zhongli/Venti, Venti & Diluc (ft. misc adventurers)

“I need to tell him (I can’t tell him)” by asingleqingxin

T, 1949 words, angst, major character death.

Venti POV, mentions Istaroth, set during Chapter 1 Act I’s Rite of Descension, Venti doesn’t know Zhongli faked his death, misunderstanding played for drama, grief, dissociation, Venti loses grip on time period briefly

Oh, that's not good news.

He needs to tell Morax.

...he can't tell Morax.

OR

When the rumors about the Rite of Descension hit Mondstadt.

Angst and misunderstanding from the canon event written from Venti’s POV in Mondstadt

[smolandweirdwriter]

Adaine definitely took up crochet or knitting over a winter break and ended up drafting spells like an improved mage hand to work on multiple projects at once

When Adaine began the process of therapy with Jawbone, one of the first things he suggested was that she find something to do to destress. Growing up, “hobbies” hadn’t been common in the Abernant family. After all, something to do in your free time necessitated, well, having free time. And why would you fill time (endless, immortal time) with something inherently unproductive, when you could be studying? 

But when her anxiety crept up behind her and gripped the back of her throat in a chokehold, when she couldn’t think or work from the sheer stress of doing so, Jawbone had suggested she find an outlet for her tension. 

She tried a few things but nothing really stuck. Besides, it was junior year. She was busy. She was stressed and her anxiety meds weren’t helping, but she didn’t have time to focus on that. During winter break, before they even begun packing for Fallinel, Adaine and Kristen had been hanging out in Kristen’s room so Adaine could help Kristen write an essay.

She sat down on Kristen’s bed and was shocked by the softness of the top blanket. Kristen noticed and smiled. The blanket was one of her only possessions from her family, something her mother had knitted for her a long time ago. Kristen noted how much Adaine liked the texture and told her that she had some needles from when her mom tried to get her into knitting. She hadn’t really enjoyed it, but she offered the needles and some yarn to Adaine, and helped her find tutorial videos on CrystalTube.

Adaine spent the ensuing days learning to knit. Her first attempts were very bad, little more than tangled balls of yarn in vague lumped shapes. But she liked the repetition of it, liked seeing the way the patterns took shape. She liked the predictability of knowing what the end product should look like. 

Her first proper knitting project was a purple and yellow hat that she shyly presented to Kristen. I know it’s not very good, but— 

Adaine barely got the words out before Kristen jammed the hat on her head and tackled her in a hug. It’s perfect.

Her second proper knitting project, she gave to Aelwyn. A grey hat with cat ears and face on the front. Aelwyn had laughed when she’d first presented it to her, and then proceeded to wear it every day for weeks on end.

With Ayda’s help, she modified a Mage Hand cantrip into what they called Majestically Munificent Multiple Mage Hands (because they liked the way all the M’s sounded together, even if it was redundant. “We enjoy it, and every word serves a meaning in the spell’s description,” Ayda said. “And even if the words are not all necessarily required, our enjoyment of the way it sounds can be compounded with basic utility. Therefore, we should keep them all.” Adaine hadn’t seen a flaw in the reasoning.)

M-M-M-H allowed Adaine to summon two Mage Hands that, by the spell’s parameters, needed to stay within 6 feet of each other. This way, she could knit with magic and work on multiple projects at once, or work on something else while she knitted. 

So Adaine knits now. When she’s stressed, before she goes to bed, after she’s finished her homework or when she needs a break from it, sometimes even when she wakes up. 

She knits hats, scarves, sweaters, blankets. She knits for her friends. She knits for her family. But most of all, she knits for herself.

[grtmnick]

Regina gasped despite herself. She yanked away the lid to a cardboard box she’d long ago stored in the attic of the Mills’ family mansion. The twisting strands of cream colored yarn, bold royal-purple embroidery, in combination they catapulted her mind back to that fateful day when her legion of black knights ransacked the summer palace, just before she’d cast the dark curse.

There could be no more doubts, Emma Swan was the lost heir to the White Kingdom, and she had assuredly arrived in Storybrooke to reap vengeance upon the former Evil Queen that ruined her life 28 years prior.

The brunette knew she should’ve been angry, distraught, or even terrified of the threat that blonde represented to a victory hard won.

Why then did Regina feel her face flash when she thought of those cascading golden princes curls as they framed so perfectly Emma’s handsome face?