Knitted baby cocoon patterns

I’m at a complete loss. I have a one year old & she quite literally does not fucking sleep. I don’t mean the “ oh she wakes up three times a night and is up for the day at 5! “ I mean she sleeps from 7:30-9:30 pm and then wakes up almost every 10-20 minutes after that until about 3:30 then she’s up for the day. I’m lucky if she takes an hour worth of naps through out the day. when I say we’ve tried everything under the sun, I mean everything.
She doesn’t want to cuddle and sleep in bed with me, she doesn’t want her own space in our bed, she doesn’t want to sleep in her crib, we even put a toddler mattress on the floor and she doesn’t want to sleep on that either. She will only sleep if im sitting up, holding her. I’m almost 34 weeks pregnant and this has been going on for months. She has a calming bed time routine, we do the dark room and the white noise. We’ve tried CIO and it does nothing to extend her sleep or put her to sleep. We’ve tried Motrin, gas relief drops, baby oragel cooling sensations, those baby bliss sleep drops, the sleepy time linen spray, pacifiers, she’s been to the pediatrician recently and there’s nothing medically wrong..he also did not have any helpful advice whatsoever. “ sounds like you’re doing everything right. Maybe give her some Benadryl to reset her sleep pattern “ I’ve researched all the dangers of giving a one year old Benadryl. No thank you.
I don’t know what else to do. I’m a SAHM, every other week there’s a 6 year old, 5 year old, and 3 year old added to my routine. my boyfriend works 4am-6:45 pm and it’s gotten to the point he sleeps upstairs on the nights he works so it’s quite literally just me. It’s ruining our relationship because im starting to despise that he gets uninterrupted sleep for hours and im barely surviving or functioning. And I know once new baby is born that if I have two children alternating wake ups every 20 minutes , I really don’t think I’ll make it. I love my daughter to infinity and beyond, she’s the happiest most room brightening baby during daylight hours. But my god I feel like im developing PTSD every time 7 pm hits and I just want to cry every night because im so miserable. I don’t have family or friends or a village to help. It’s just me

When I watched I May Destroy You I was blown away by the artistry of the series and I started to see myself so clearly in the main character. I’ve only watched it once because of how traumatic it is but it will stick with me forever. I feel like Baby Reindeer is that again. It is both true stories about the rape and aftermath of the main character, who is a British comedian, and how they struggle with repeating patterns without the help of the police. Also I feel like they are both marginalized by who they are and who their abuser was, with I May Destroy You is about a Black women who’s been raped by a white man and then a south Asian man, and isn’t taken seriously and the first person is never caught. She later works with one of abusers to draft her story. In Baby Reindeer he is raped by a man and then sexually assaulted and harassed by a woman and is not really taken seriously but the police for a while, the first person is never caught. He also sees his abuser again.
Jones they’ve both helped me to examine what it’s like to not be seen as an “innocent victim”. Trauma is so complex and victims are human, I really do appreciate both series for depicting that so honestly.

What are everyone’s experiences with test knitting? I signed up to do a test knit with a designer I really like, I’ve knitted a couple of their patterns, I loved the process and they fit me really well. I decided to try a test knit because I want to start designing patterns myself and was curious about the process of test knitting and what to expect. I know most indie designers like to do test knits, to see how the pattern knits up in various sizes, different yarns & knitters, and that it’s also good promo for them when they release a pattern. I attended a workshop earlier this year about basic knitting pattern design, run by someone who releases their own patterns but who trained in a yarn company, and their opinion was that test knits are a waste of time. The reason I’m asking all of this is because the test knit I’m doing is held in a discord server (a new to me app) and people have been asking questions about various things - stitch counts, wording etc - and the designer hasn’t really been replying. A couple of ‘I’ll look into that’ but then no answer has been put onto the thread, I myself asked a question a few days ago & it hasn’t been acknowledged but I know the designer has been on Instagram because they’ve posted a few stories. Is this normal? I thought they’d be checking at least once a day? I know we get the pattern for free but we’re the ones who have spent money on yarn to essentially do a favour for the designer and I just thought there’d be a bit more contact?

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- - - - -
It had been a few weeks since Altier was brought to the run-down shack that his black-scaled companion likely called home, and he could now comfortably say he was accustomed to the…household’s routine. The kobold typically left at the crack of dawn, returned a little after noon, and occasionally left again to forage until nightfall. When the weather was bad or there wasn’t a particular need for something, they half-heartedly chased their rabbit around for a bit, which usually ended with a bout of quiet petting while everyone got ready for the night. It was always amusing to see the energetic side of what he had come to know as a relatively lazy loaf of an animal. As for the routine of the ferrorabbit in question… Well…it was at least more interesting than expected.
Hoppit would begin his own series of activities as soon as his caretaker left—the first of which being a check of every nook and cranny in the shed. He sniffed at anything that caught his interest, varying from morning to morning, but he gave every object or corner its due attention. Once he was satisfied with that, he would eat some of the ragged plants that made up most of his diet, take a drink from his bowl, then jump onto the tro— table and plop himself down, his ears pivoting towards the door. It was hard to say if the lounging spot had been established before Altier’s arrival, but it was somewhat amusing to pretend that the little rabbit was standing guard over his core—if it wasn’t for one particular part of the morning ritual, that is.
Indeed, the ferrorabbit had a habit of licking the obsidian orb that sat in the middle of the room, which thankfully didn’t seem to perturb the system enough to give Altier a headache. He was confused when it first happened, but it was commonplace enough now that he barely acknowledged it. A part of him liked that he was getting attention as a core, even if it was delivered via a strange grooming method. The closest he got to being acknowledged as something other than ‘the dungeon’ was through an unfortunate misunderstanding that he could never properly rectify. He supposed that was hardly worth thinking about now, though; too much time had passed for there to be anyone left to correct. The little oddity of his mornings would have to suffice.
There wasn’t much to comment on as far as the rest of the day’s happenings. Hoppit would end his loafing by shaking his head and ears in a way that filled the silence with soft clacks, give the core a customary tongue bath, then jump off the table to nose his way out of the shed through a hole that was hidden by the storage cart against the wall. Where the rabbit went was anyone’s guess, but he always returned before anyone noticed he was gone, and often did so while covered in small cuts and scratches. Any blood from the lacerations was quickly licked off before it could be seen by the kobold, and in the event that the scaly caretaker happened to return earlier than expected, Hoppit would scurry over to the bundles of blankets to finish the cleanup in secret.
Today looked to be following the usual pattern. The kobold left bright and early with various gardening tools and a wooden pail, and Hoppit had since set off into the great unknown for one reason or another. Hopefully, he returned less injured than usual. It was frustrating to admit that Altier had begun to grow rather fond of the fluffy creature, and seeing the thing come back hurt was bothersome. Was it off looking for food? There wasn’t a whole lot given to it, so that was a possibility, and it could be getting into fights over whatever it found. That still didn’t explain why the animal was so thin, and Altier didn’t have enough to go off of to think of a potential solution. He wanted to help it in some way, like by summoning a creature to act as an escort, or maybe just by manifesting something edible like he once could. No, he could only stare at the ‘Synchronizing…’ that occupied his menu, wishing he had more information to work with.
He never thought he would miss the bombardment of notifications and their lingering presence that filled the edge of his mental vision; at least with that he could surmise enough to hazard some kind of action. Even knowing why the menu was acting the way it did would be a start. Yet, try as he might, there wasn’t a history for him to reference anymore, and he had nothing to work with. He was confident the last message had asked him to ‘accept’ something, then took his befuddled ponderance as an answer, but he was no closer to an explanation for what it wanted, nor why it prompted him in the first place. He just didn’t have another experience to compare against, since nothing like that had ever happened before. Not that he was ever in much of a position to allow it.
The entire purpose of having Altier inhabit a core was for him to become a dungeon of Decay, which entailed all the skeletons, poisons, acids, and whatever else came to mind when one pictured the concept. ‘Living’ creatures were something he only had the chance to experiment with near the beginning of his new existence, though he never dabbled past the first few insects before transitioning to the mindless undead. Having a thinking, feeling, breathing entity touch his core was a rite reserved only for the adventurers and soldiers that bested his trials, and that was usually a painful experience. Now, he had spent what he could only guess was hours being held by a kobold, followed by having a rabbit bump against him, and neither felt like what he came to expect. Instead, both had led to a completely novel reaction from the system. The strange circumstances put him at a bit of a loss as to what it all meant for him.
Sure, he could dismiss the deluge of errors from his companion’s involvement by pointing to the numerous ‘corrupted’ messages before it, and Hoppit was a part of mostly unexplored territory, but the lack of clarity nagged at the back of his mind constantly. Being exposed to activity after potential decades or centuries of unchanging solitude made him despise the informational dead end. If he couldn’t make sense of the rabbit’s circumstances, then he didn’t have much hope of deciphering the reason for why his system was misbehaving so terribly. He also didn't know much about the one who owned the decrepit holdings he was housed inside.
He still wasn’t sure what drove the kobold to take him from the cave. His suspicion of becoming traded goods fell flat after the first week or so, and he hadn’t noticed any cult-like behaviour, which was promising. Granted, a lack of nefarious behaviour didn’t mean there was a lack of nefarious intent, but he didn’t get the impression his companion held that either. The kobold itself didn’t seem quite settled on an opinion of his core, though it was up for debate if the hesitation was due to knowing what he was or not. They seemed to mull something over before bed each night, yet never reached a satisfactory conclusion, staring at the obsidian orb through weary grey eyes until they eventually forced themselves into sleep.
Whatever the underlying reasoning for his abduction was, he had observed enough to know that the kobold didn’t deserve to live in destitution. As beaten as the shed might be, they cared for it as best they could, and did so without a single groan or grimace of complaint. The floors were cleaned with a tattered rag and fresh water, dust was removed regularly, and any stray mess that Hoppit made was dealt with promptly. They even took the time to wipe off his core, which was possibly where the ferrorabbit got the idea to start licking him. The only time Altier had seen discontent from the kobold was when they didn’t find much during their foraging, and thus couldn’t give any treats to the excited and bouncy herbivore.
He wasn’t aware that a creature’s face could make such a painfully broken expression, and he was quick to decide that he never wanted to see it again.
Vexingly, his metaphorical hands were tied; a dungeon could only influence their Domain, and given the state of his system, not even that option was available to him. All he could do was glare at the rotting wooden beams that held up the roof and remember when such an issue didn’t exist. It would have taken a mere flicker of thought and a paltry sum of mana to mend the struts when he was a proper dungeon. He could even outright reinforce the structure by weaving in other materials, leaving the appearance as it was while making everything stronger than iron. Well, he once could. Working with other affinities was something that came to him after absorbing the coloured motes left behind by adventurers, and the accursed stone that stole his mana had taken that ability as well.
An attempt was made anyway, his will ordering the deteriorated wood to absorb any trace metals from the ground, but it was no use. He couldn’t feel the iron or stones beneath the shed like he would have been able to before, all but confirming his suspicion that his connection to the Earth element had slipped away. Nature was much the same; the only way he knew when Hoppit had returned most days was from the subtle noise and the essence of injury. The other attributes—Air, Flame, Luma, Shadow, and so on—were ones he never experimented with to any real extent, so it was less noticeable when he lost his grasp on them. Perhaps they faded early. Either way, all he had left was a waning cognizance of his own alignment, and that wasn’t of much use to him. If he had any appreciable mana income, then perhaps he could do something, but he wasn’t even sure what the upkeep of his current Domain might be. It was entirely possible that he was running on a deficit, which would offer a reason for why his system had been so—
[Do#$@n Ex@#d$%^&d! CRe@#r H-H-H-HoPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP—]
[Errrrrrr—]
[Sy$%^hroni%^$zing…]
[Creeee-tu— Hoppit ha@$ esttttb-hed terrrrrrr-ity f^#% t$e dun@&$n!]
- - - - -
“Well then,” he mumbled to himself, taking in the strange scene behind the shed. For one, he could actually view a small distance beyond the structure now, and two, there was a rather proud-looking Hoppit sitting on his haunches before a pair of significantly less prideful examples of the species. They looked quite a bit bigger than the lazy loaf Altier had come to know, yet they were more cut up and dejected than his furry friend. That answered where the injuries had been coming from, he supposed. Hoppit was probably running off to bash heads with whatever animal population existed here beforehand, and they had only just reached a consensus on who was in charge. Impressive.
One of Hoppit’s ears turned back towards the shed, his head following suit as he gave a lagomorph’s approximation of a ‘Look what I did!’ smile. Altier blanked out mentally, but didn’t have time to question anything before the new leader of the local rabbits imperiously pointed a paw towards the surrounding forest, which was equally surreal to witness. Most surprising of all, the…subordinates? The other ferrorabbits did as commanded, keeping their forms small as they took off into the foliage. Soft clacks came from Hoppit’s pleased shake of his head, then he too left the area with only a slightly lopsided bounce to his stride.
The man-turned-core could only gape at what he saw. Were animals always so…expressive? Had Hoppit heard him? What in the world was happening? Why had Hoppit’s personal conquest led to Altier’s Domain expanding?
He lamented not having fingers, nor temples to rub with them. His system was a garbled mess of errors and inconsistent messages, his residence was falling apart at the seams, his companion was someone who abducted him from the dungeon, yet never did anything past that, and his first real experience with an animal was turning out to be more confusing than he thought possible.
All of this was after an unknown amount of time spent commanding legions of undead to strengthen the very people who he would later learn had lied to and manipulated him, making him into a nightmarish entity just to bolster the power of their forces. He almost missed the days spent gazing out of a mossy window. At least then he knew what to expect.
Nothing made sense anymore.
= = = = =
The soft sound of roots ripping free from soil suddenly stopped, only to be followed by a dull thud of Ceele’s palm slapping against the ground to catch her fall before she landed on her rear. She righted herself with her tail and tossed the stubborn weed into a pile with the others. No matter how many mornings she did this, they always seemed to replace themselves faster than she could remove the pesky things. A sigh slipped from her muzzle as she set about grabbing the next one embedded in the vegetable garden.
Aches and spreading stiffness flared up, but went ignored as she neared the end of her duties, though she was well aware that they would come back with force once she tried to settle down for the day. The impending soreness was an inevitable byproduct of spending so much time working. Still, she knew that if it wasn’t for the kindly old couple that allowed her to call their shed home, she would still be sleeping beneath the stars while making sure nothing tried to get at her Hoppit. Even if it was just a part of the deal, they were owed this much in return, and she would see it done properly.
The sun bore down on her back as she did her usual tasks, which was a departure from the slightly overcast weather as of late. It looked somewhat promising when she checked in the wee hours of the morning, yet as her gardening duties dragged on, so too did the intensity of such a clear sky. A disappointed glance at the empty wooden bucket on the edge of the field was quickly corrected. She hadn’t thought to refill it at the river after watering the crops, and her parched throat was making its protests known, while also reminding her that there wasn’t much water left at home either. One more thing to take care of when she was done.
A gruff cough brought her attention towards the old kobold resting his back against a tree some distance away, safely shaded from the unforgiving rays beaming down. Her displeasure at having yet more to do was hastily wiped away. She was undecided on what to think of the detached audience, but looking so sour while upholding her side of the agreement wouldn’t reflect well on her. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen it. Not that she could tell if he did; he always had the same expression when he watched her work. The elder kobold’s arms were crossed, a finger tapping absently against his bicep, while his tail sat motionless on the grass, the muddy red colour of his scales standing out amongst the greens and browns. ‘Makis,’ was his name, assuming her memory served.
Makis had taken to observing her every so often, usually propping himself against this or that at a distance, the unwavering scowl being as unnerving as it was belying of his age. Somewhat loose skin sagged a bit around his jowls and neck, yet the rest of his face was still taut from how much time he spent examining red-hot metal, and his arms were marred with countless burns and cuts from his profession. He held an oppressive aura, though the crinkles around his eyes and muzzle suggested he smiled as frequently as he glowered, even if Ceele was yet to see the former. There was only the same judgmental expression aimed at her when he was around. She could only hope that he didn’t take offence to some unintended slight, but she didn’t know him well enough to say what might be considered one.
They hadn’t spoken since she took up residence on the outskirts of his land. His wife was the one to introduce them, but it was quickly established that he had no intention of being a chatty individual. He led Ceele to the shed hidden amongst the trees on the edge of the property, then dismissed her with only a grunt coming from the elderly kobold. She supposed that it was for the best. Her experience in socializing was centred around convincing others to employ her, and there hadn’t been much of an opportunity to expand her horizons while living a life on the road. If that had been the end of their interactions, she would have swiftly written the terseness off, but he appeared every few days, taking up residence beneath the shade as he watched her work, never speaking a single word. At least he didn’t openly protest her presence, yet she figured that would be easier to manage. He wouldn’t be such an enigma then.
There wasn’t a whole lot she knew about him besides his penchant for ‘supervision,’ and anything beyond that was what his wife had volunteered during the rare opportunity they had to chat. She was told that Makis worked the smithy out front, and although he had retired from doing so in an official capacity, she could still regularly hear his hammer as she tended to the garden, so she figured he kept himself busy most days. It made her wonder what was so interesting about a vagrant like herself, but when there was so little else to do, she could see how anything could be made worth the attention. It was just him and his wife living in the once bustling home, after all; the couple’s children had long since grown up and made families of their own.
She noticed his gaze shift elsewhere as she tugged yet another stubborn intruder from the soil, his arms falling from across his chest and the perpetually worn displeasure melting to that of curiosity. He wandered off shortly after, and she had to make an effort not to fall onto her tail as the pressure on her shoulders unexpectedly evaporated. Did something happen?
Ceele shook her head free of the distracting thought. It wasn’t her business if he grew bored with watching her work. As long as no one voiced any complaints, she could only assume that she was doing a satisfactory job. Maybe he finally decided that he didn’t need to be so watchful because she was doing well! That could be it, right?
A glance at the somewhat sloppily maintained garden erased the false confidence from her face, but she was just as quick to focus on finishing up, unwilling to allow darker musings to fester. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anything else that needed her intervention. The weeds were all uprooted, the soil was appropriately dampened, and her check for pesky insects or wildlife turned up nothing to worry about. She was free for the rest of the day!
…Or she would be free—as soon as she finished the last of her tasks, anyway.
The black-scaled kobold got up from her crouch unsteadily, shivering and wincing from the pins and needles in her legs. She would have to remember to stretch more often; it was far too easy to forgo that kind of thing just to make the overall work go slightly faster. Her hand reached out to grab the pile of weeds and put them into the bucket as she ran through what needed to be done before she could properly relax. Hoppit’s food needed to be washed, she needed to bathe, and they were running low on water anyway, so she would have to visit the river. Just the thought of dragging herself into the forest again made her muscles protest, but she wouldn’t have the energy to do it later. She forced the smile that had started to fall and took the first of many steps.
- - - - -
The river wasn’t too far away, only taking a few minutes of traipsing through the dense woodlands until she reached her destination. It was an idyllic little spot. The trees thinned out to allow a grassy bank along the water, and there was an appreciably gentle slope from shallows to depths, making for a convenient place to take care of various needs. She had discovered this place during her travels, and it was where a kind older woman found her.
Ceele was washing off at the time, with Hoppit safely taking shelter from the outside underneath the bundled blankets while he waited. The trickle of the stream brushing against rocks covered the sound of footsteps, so she was rather surprised when an aged voice called out to ask if she was okay. Her first reaction was to distance herself and apologize—the why didn’t matter, but she had learned that most people were more lenient of her presence if she seemed apologetic for it, and she usually was. The elderly kobold just laughed at her scrambling, tacking on an assurance that there was no need for modesty. The woman was blind, apparently, which explained how Ceele’s blackened colours hadn’t deterred her.
Strangely enough, there was a comforting sense of ease around the one who introduced herself as Hira. It was a sort of presence that Ceele could only vaguely remember, and it drew her close enough to speak as she finished bathing. The conversation wasn’t anything profound, of course—they hardly delved deeper than surface-level small talk—but Hira lost her smile as she listened to the younger kobold. By the end of it, the old woman posed a series of questions with a dark inflection to her voice, and Ceele struggled to find an answer.
‘Are you tired of looking for something that only slips away? Are you tired of running? Do you really want to be scared and alone?’
If the silence bothered Hira, then it didn’t show. She had simply held out a hand and offered Ceele a way of life that didn’t involve wondering where she would be spending the night, nor entailed cowering in the brush while fearsome predators roamed freely. It would be a simple existence of few fortunes, but it was safe, and it was honest. All she had to do was say yes.
Ceele denied it at first, partially because she knew most people despised Hobbit's species, and partially because she couldn’t shake the offer being too good to be true. Hira was quick to propose a compromise; Ceele could take residence in the gardening shed that had fallen from use, and to satiate the nagging sense of an unfair deal, she would be put in charge of maintaining the garden itself. All Hira wanted was to ‘see’ her favourite space bloom again, since she couldn’t take care of it anymore. The black-scaled kobold stared longingly at where Hoppit was, his little body shivering from the prolonged cold and fear that he would be hurt if he left the blankets hiding him. It was with a heavy guilt that she accepted Hira’s offer, keeping quiet about her true reason for doing so.
That was in the past, however, though she thought about it every time she stopped by and saw the smooth rocks where she and Hira first met. Eventually, she might gather the courage to admit that she was housing a ‘pest’ and beg for forgiveness. Until then, she would just work her hardest to prove it wasn’t a mistake to give her a home. That her endless efforts weren’t meaningless. That Hoppit deserved to be more than a ‘pest.’
That Ceele was more than something she had no control over being.
She cleared her head a bit and started on the reason she came all this way. Her dress was rather easy to wash in the meandering water, and the trees provided a suitable place for it to dry in the sunlight and light breeze. The weeds were fine with a thorough rinse near in the shallows, but taking care of her own hygiene required her to wade farther in, though it only came up to her chest in the middle of the rill. Still, she could scrub off the soil and grime, which was all she really needed. Perhaps some simple soaps would help rid her of the pervasive black that stained her skin and scales, but that was beyond her meagre means for the time being, as well as being mere wishful thinking.
She worked past the dreary mindset that settled in when she allowed it, focusing on how serene the river was. The soft birdsong from the trees helped make for a peaceful experience, and she could feel the somewhat chilled liquid basically pour into the aches and pains throughout her body, washing away the stiffness from spending so long under the unerring sun. It was nice to escape reality and let thoughts drift while held buoyant by calmer waters.
Yet the bliss was short-lived. Even if winter was gone, spring was still far from warming the waters enough for her to laze about for too long. She dragged herself from the soft current and fetched her dress from the low-lying branch she left it to dry on. It was still a touch damp, but it wasn’t anything a bit of time in front of the fireplace wouldn’t fix.
Ceele was only a short distance away from home when she heard a gravelly male voice, but it was the flicker of sight between the trees that made her drop what was in her arms and lunge into a sprint.
Makis stood just outside the gardening shed, a ferrorabbit held at arm’s length by rusty crimson hands placed on the scruff and haunch, the rabbit’s little ears flattened as fear filled its tiny face. Her eyes widened further when she noticed the small stains of blood in his light brown fur. They found out about him. Ephemeral claws of blackness clutched at her soul, ripping the very fabric she was made of as an unseen beast smiled, eager to take yet one more thing from her. Her Hoppit. Her baby. Her everything.
“Hoppit!” she shrieked, her words all but tearing out of her throat in desperation. Frozen blood coursed through her veins, yet poured into exhausted limbs. She broke through the treeline with no regard for the branches slashing against her flesh, panic making each sting fade before it could be processed. The grizzled glare of the older kobold snapped towards her, his usual scowl picking up an actual air of intensity that she never thought could be absent, the promise of violence lurking in his eyes. She skidded to a stop a few paces away, the lump in her throat threatening to clog her airway. “S-stop hurting him!”
“Didn’t,” he barked back, his tone even yet firm. “Cuts ain’t me. I’d’a done worse if’a had ta mind ta.”
The blatant declaration snapped her from blind panic, although his apparent anger didn’t do her fear any favours. “B-but… Then how…”
“‘Hoppit.’ Named it, did’cha?” he grunted, ignoring her confusion and bobbing the rabbit to get her attention again. His gaze shifted back to the animal, the flames of ire cooling slightly. “I was wonderin’ why yer plots ain’t dead yet. Suppose this critter’s why.”
One of her hands hesitantly reached out until she pulled it back, while the other clutched at her chest to stop her heart from hammering against her ribs. She couldn’t act rashly. Not while her baby was in his arms. “I—”
“Soft thing, ain’t it,” the elder kobold commented curiously, cutting her off.
“Y-yes?” she returned reluctantly, struggling to stop herself from lashing out to reclaim the ferrorabbit in his grasp.
“Like fine silk.” Makis tipped and tilted the animal, inspecting this and that with a deep-seated frown, all while Hoppit silently looked to her for help. The pit in her stomach grew. She needed to get him back, but how?
Ceele swallowed the dense dread as she tried to formulate some sort of plan, stumbling over her words and forced smile. “I-it’s nice! Isn’t it nice?”
His eyes snapped back to burrow into her own with hatred. “Wasn’t a compliment, girly.”
“B-but you—”
He released Hoppit’s lower half to jab a claw at the various spikes around his body, plying them with minimal force. “Look. See this? These’r suppose ta break bone. ‘Specially when he’s stiff like this. Ain’t no way I should be able ta bend ‘em. He’s barely more than a walkin’ carcass—all skin ‘n stick. He’s gonna get picked up by a wandering pecker if he keeps pissin’ about out ‘ere. It’s a wonder he’s still kickin’. What’cha feeding ‘em?” His gaze dropped from her face to the rest of her, disgust curling his muzzle into a snarl. “N’ver mind. I can guess.”
She felt the dampness build at the edges of her vision, unprepared to not only worry for Hoppit's immediate health, but also to face such harsh criticism while she was so vulnerable. “I… I try to make sure he has…”
Makis crouched to release the ferrorabbit onto the ground, Ceele dropping to her knees the moment he did. The terrified lagomorph wasted no time, bolting towards his adoptive mother and leaping into her arms, shaking uncontrollably. The rust-coloured ‘bold stared as she started soothingly stroking the animal’s back.
“Yer given’ em the weeds, aren’t ya?” he stated rather than asked. She gave a teary nod when her voice wouldn’t respond for her. The old kobold drew a breath, letting it go in an exasperated sigh as he stood back up, his expression becoming more impatient than antagonistic. “What else?”
“I— Um…”
“What. Else?”
“W-whatever I c-can find!” she sputtered out. Hoppit tried to hide against her neck, prompting her to tighten her hold. She couldn’t stop herself from shrinking, the guilt and confusion pulling her head down. “R-roots, vegetables, fruits… I give them as often as I can.”
His glare continued unimpeded, his cadence cold. “That it?”
There were a million things Ceele wanted to say. A part of her wanted to beg him not to kick them out of the first safe place she had in longer than she could remember, but she couldn’t find the words. She wanted to deny the judgmental tone that stabbed into her insecurity surrounding how good of a job she was doing with Hoppit, but the deadened void in her chest swallowed her pride whole. She knew he was right to critique her. That she was failing in the only thing that mattered anymore. That the feeling of loss would return.
“I try,” she whispered through the beginnings of a sob. “I try to find more, but he needs someone around, and I have to work the garden, so there’s only so much time I can spend looking. He won’t even eat all of what I bring back…” Tears dripped off her cheeks as she aimed a desolate smile at her furry friend. “He wants to make sure I have some too.”
“Yer killin’ em,” Makis pointed out plainly, crossing his arms. “He’ll be dead ‘fore the summer at this rate.”
“I know!” she shouted, forcing back the memories of insidious murmurs that lurked in the back of her mind, eager to creep into her ears again. The hate-filled stares that followed her, the rumours that arrived in towns before she had the chance to make an impression, and the guilt that loomed over her like an executioner's axe… “I know I am… I just… I don’t know what he needs. I don’t know how to make him happy…but I try. I’m trying…”
“…Yer an idiot, girly.”
She looked up to see the elder kobold walking away without another word. Her eyes fell to Hoppit, the ferrorabbit pressing himself against her as much as he could. He was small, thin, soft, and growing weaker by the day, but he never let it keep him down for long. No, he always showed his best for her, giving her joy that wasn’t provided anywhere else. She saw the thin cuts and dried blood, though she didn’t know where they came from, nor how he got out of the shed in the first place. But that was okay. Hoppit was okay, and she had Hoppit, so everything was okay, right?
…But how much longer would everything stay okay? How much longer until her efforts weren’t enough, and she was left desperately reaching for fading memories of what once was? How much longer until she killed her baby too?
How much longer until she was alone again?
Soft footsteps drew near, pulling her from the spiralling thoughts that threatened to gnaw at her soul. Damp, blurry eyes fell on Makis returning with a small wooden crate, the older kobold stopping a few steps away. He dropped the box, a deep, rattling thud produced as it impacted the ground, making Hoppit flinch in her arms. Ceele blinked as she kept him calm, then blinked again, looking up at the man for answers.
“The name, girly,” he spat in irritation. “Ferrorabbit. Ther’ Earth aligned creatures; they need metals. They don’t care where they get it, but they need lots of it. Iron, copper, tin, lead—raw crystal, if they can find it. You name it, they’ll take a chunk out of it. It's why they bother farmers so much; the best soil’s usually top’a gem deposits, ‘n the little bastards have no issue burrowing deep to get it. Dries up the element’s energy ‘n makes the crops weak.”
Ceele’s mouth opened and closed, each unsuccessful attempt to speak making her feel smaller and smaller. More and more lost. Why was he telling her this? How did he know? What was in the—
He kicked the crate with the side of his foot. “Scraps. Don’t’cha look at me like that. I’m a smith, girly. I might be old and retired, but I still work a forge. Now, this ain’t anything pure—it’s just slag and hunks—but I’m sure the critter won’t mind. Your little gardenin’ project pays off, ‘n I’ll see which of my contacts can get in some better ore.”
She ripped her eyes away from the box and met the perpetual scowl of the old kobold, seeing a warmth behind the hostility that she had never noticed before. “…Why?”
He scoffed in amusement, which looked somewhat menacing on such a hardened expression. “Yer a touch stupid, girly, but the missus adores ya, ‘n yer a good worker.” A shadow of a smile formed on his face. “Hira spent more evenings asking ‘bout how the plots are doin’ than I got time in the day. She’d bite my head off if I noticed a critter like that sufferin’ and didn’t lend a hand. ‘Specially when it’s obvious you ain’t tryin’ ta hurt the thing.”
“B-but the garden… Isn’t he a problem?”
Makis rolled his eyes, turning with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If he was, he’da killed it by now. I’d say he’s been keepin’ the others clear ‘n got scratched up for the trouble. That’s more reason to feed ‘em right in my eyes; pay the poor bastard his dues.” He paused after a few steps, shooting her one last incredulous glance. “‘N the rabbit’s right. You’re not much better off than he is. Eat. Before the missus takes my head, preferably. I ain’t need ta hear her worryin’ over you more than I already do.”
And with that, he walked off back to the house, leaving Ceele to sit stunned on the ground with Hoppit quietly nuzzling into her.
“Hoppit…?”
The ferrorabbit perked an ear and gently licked her collar. Fresh tears ran rivulets down her face, yet they didn’t weigh her down. They felt freeing. She adjusted her hold on the rabbit and held him out, taking in the small cuts and numerous other injuries she had never noticed before. He stared back at her with worried eyes.
“You’ve been busy, huh?” she cooed quietly, doing her best to keep her voice from cracking. He shrunk in her hands. “I told you to stay home, baby. What if something happened to you? I wouldn’t know where you went, and…”
Her protests died out as she saw what was unmistakably guilt on his little face. She brought him back to her chest and cleared her throat.
“It’s alright, Hoppit. If… If you want to help momma, then we can work together, okay? Just…please don’t go off getting hurt… I don’t know what I’d do without you…” The rabbit didn’t reply, and she was pretty sure she had never heard him make any sounds that weren’t his happy little ear clacks, but she chose to interpret the nuzzling as an agreement. “Such a smart boy…”
She took a breath and wiped off the excess moisture from her cheeks, setting Hoppit down on the ground. “Let’s bring Mr. Makis’ gift in, and then I need to go get more water so we can clean you up, okay?”
He bounced his way to the door of their home, waiting patiently for her to lug the surprisingly heavy crate into the shed. He was even still behaving himself by the time she returned from picking up the things she dropped in her haste. There wasn’t a single protest from the ferrorabbit as she washed over his wounds with warm water, nor when she asked him to wait as she cut up a small salad for him using an extra portion of her rationed vegetables. Finally, once everything else was gone, she tentatively sifted through the box until she found a chunk of something that didn’t look so sharp, then offered it to Hoppit skeptically.
As startling as it was to see him bite through metal without issue, she couldn’t help but tear up again at how pleased he looked with the bizarre addition to his diet. He munched through the first piece, then stared at the box while pawing at the air, asking for more. She obliged through wet laughs, feeling lighter than she had since he first gazed at her from his burrow, alone and afraid, just like she was.
Her little baby was happy, and that made it okay.
Next
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A/N: Thank you to my Patrons, new and returning! No Thanks, Emmanuel, and Megathor join the others who get to read 1 chap ahead!

I buy patterns often, so doesn't need to be a free one but it's a bonus if it is... I have about 4 months to make it and am an intermediate crocheter, also any recommendations for your favourite wools to use for baby blankets would be much appreciated (I am based in the UK). It is for a colleague for her first baby, I have made blankets in the past but just looking for inspiration this time round!

My first birth was recorded as precipitous, but I'm not sure if this is accurate.
I started realizing I was having contractions around 8:30pm that night (3 years ago). They were still somewhat far apart for a while (anywhere from 8-12 minutes) but coming regularly and increasing in strength. I called my husband who was on night shift a couple of hours later when they were more like 4-8 minutes apart, and he got home sometime after midnight to pick me up.
We got to the hospital around maybe 12:30-45ish and by the time we got there contractions were 1.5-3 minutes apart, between 30-60 seconds long and I was groaning through contractions and throwing up. I was only at 2cm, they gave me some kind of pain pill and told us to go home. However, they needed to monitor the baby continously for 15 minutes before we could leave. I was moving around too much from pain for that to happen.
Finally, after what I'm told was about 45 minutes of trying to monitor, the nurses noticed my sounds and behavior had changed and they checked me again. I was at 7cm. We were not going home. Thank God because I knew from the beginning I couldn't handle another car ride in labor, let alone 2.
I don't know how long it took to get from 7 to 9.5 (when they checked me again because I was pushing), but the pushing stage was about half an hour. The baby was born around 4:30am.
So the timeline I suppose is this, based on a combination of my own memory and what I've been told:
8:30pm-12:15am - early labor at home 12:45-1:30am - go from 2cm to 7cm 1:30-4am - go from 7cm to 9.5/10cm (this one doesn't really make sense to me because it felt really short despite the excruciating pain and I've also heard transition is one of the shortest stages* 4-4:30am - push baby out
*I could also be wrong about what time we went to the hospital. But I don't think so 🤔
Now I could swear at one point I'd heard the term "precipitous labor" used to describe a short active phase, which I definitely had. But now when I look up the term, most sources say "3 hours or less from the onset of regular contractions." So maybe whoever wrote that on my chart didn't consider my contractions to be "regular" until later on since the timing was inconsistent (even though there was an obvious pattern)?
Does this sound like it would qualify as precipitous labor? Obviously someone involved in the birth thought so enough to write it down as such. It was certainly fast, and I do sort of want the phrasing to stay on my chart so they don't try to send us home again if we show up to the hospital in what appears to be early labor.

Aspects of Shadow, Death and Destruction
{inspired by Crawling Shades, Twisting Abyss, and even more so, that one Great Elder whose shadow minions just straight-up deleted people from reality}
The Kagami family are a subordinate clan of the Akura who fell from prominence two centuries ago. They host a strange Bloodline that made their birth rather difficult. They are born with a Remnant as a conjoined twin. This Remnant is later incorporated into their living twin's shadow with the aid of Soulsmithing.
The Shadow Remnant is kept weaker than their bonded, until their fledgling will is fully overpowered by their living twin, after which they serve their sibling as bodyguard, scout, companion, or whatever role they desire. The Shadow is already spiritually conjoined and dependent on their sibling-host, this just ensures that it is also disadvantaged in terms of willpower by crippling it at its formative stage, as it develops its own intelligence.
At the height of Truegold, the Shadow is turned into a spiritual space via more Soulsmithing - this isn't strictly necessary but it is extremely useful, it makes the Shadow even better at dealing with madra techniques, giving it more time to annihilate them by capturing them within itself.
The Shadow didn't just envelop and destroy techniques, its most fearsome use is to swallow up living targets, using the Death and Destruction aura generated by the act to Cycle, and grow stronger.
The Path requires a lot of Soulsmithing knowledge, but in return it provides a powerful Sacred Arts companion, less like a bonded Sacred Beast, more akin to a Blood Shadow or Living Lightning.
Mirrored Night madra appears a textureless black in colour, so dark that it doesn't even seem real. Cycling it causes emotionlessness, like nothing truly matters, and can lead to depression.
Kagami clan Remnants are still connected to their Shadow (assuming the Shadow survived whatever killed the artist in the first place), though the relationship between them usually flips, with the Remnant in-charge. This is culturally accepted by thethe Kagami as reciprocation for faithful service, but also used by the more conservative faction as an example of why it's better to completely subdue and dominate one's Shadow rather than treating them as partners, a demonstration as to why one's Shadow might turn treacherous and lead you to death so it can use your Remnant as its servant instead.
The Remnant itself looks like a corporealized shadow. They are known to, on occasion, bestow their bonded Shadow as a Goldsign - but more often they just grant black tendrils erupting from one's feet like stalks of long grass as a more mundane Goldsign, these tendrils can be used in combat to bind, whip, grasp, catch, etc.
Techniques
Lowgold
EnforceStriker
Kiss of Persephone: could be considered a cross between a spiritual and weapon enforcement technique, used to empower their Shadow's strikes. Allowing it to intercept attacks on the artist's behalf, or to directly strike at their mutual opponent. Direct hit causes withering damage upon the target, causing their entire body to rot. Outright kills any even slightly weaker Sacred Artist with a single glancing hit (unless they were a powerful Life artist perhaps, or focused on body cultivation - enriching the Vital Aura of their body), their body crumbling into dust. It causes a similar effect on madra constructs and non-living structures, causing them to seemingly age at an advanced rate, destabilize and crumble. At the height of Truegold, they stop leaving behind any remains at all. Once the Shadow engulfs them, they cease to exist.
Highgold
EnforceForger
Embrace of the Dead: hybrid of spiritual and full-body enforcement with Forger elements, the technique is imbued onto their Shadow, which rises up and settles about their shoulders like a shadowy cloak. Imbues a destructive might onto their attacks, like every physical hit was a direct contact Striker technique. The Shadow also acts like armour, increasing their durability - and at Underlord, the technique outright transforms in visual appearance (and correspondingly, in performance) from an indistinct hazy cloak to a shadow armour.
Truegold
ForgeRuler
Grasp of the Unhallowed: all the shadows in the surrounding area pool together on the floor, turning the floor black as the abyss, and from that abyss emaciated hands with vicious claws rise and attack the target(s). These attacks are automated by the technique and don't require any further direction from the artist. The claws appear and attack too fast for even a Truegold to properly seize control of spiritually, so they need to wait till Underlord to properly control and direct (or perhaps even modify) the technique.
Underlord
Striker
Dead Star Falls: the artist creates an unstable orb of whirling streams of deadly madra. It usually requires the help of their Shadow, for additional spiritual control, to create a compressed sphere of properly unstable energies instead of creating a more stable construct or having it go off in your face instead of your opponent's. The orb explodes into a wave of darkness that destroys anything living caught within it.
Overlord
ForgeRuler
Seeds of Zagreus: the Shadow passes through other shadows and infects them, turning them into weaker versions of itself. It is not a method to increase its strength, but rather to divide it. You typically don't use it while facing an opponent of similar power, instead it's an army killer. The technique imbues spiritual power and will into shadows and raises them up to attack multiple targets at once, your victims experience their own shadows rise up to devour them. It can also be used as area denial or for sneak attacks, so it does have some versatility. Mirrored Night madra develops a small degree of affinity for Living Techniques due to their Bloodline, which is what makes this technique possible.
Archlord
Forger
Chains of the Netherworld: had a rather lengthy original name: "No Longer Let Life Divide, What Death Can Join Together". A weaker version of this technique can be executed at Overlord, taking the form of spectral chains rather than the invisible Archlord version, its effects are only temporary, dissolving within a few days. There's also an Underlord version, which just serves as a foundation for the rest of the technique to build upon later on, that looks like twin tendrils of shadow looped together in a helical pattern rather than proper chain links, this can only act as a particularly lethal capture method. The true Netherworld Chains erupt from the Shadow, nearly as invisible as the bonds of Soul Oaths, and proceeds to wrap around its target, until they're completely cocooned in writhing chains. When the technique runs its course, a new Shadow joins the artist.

If you’ve knit this pattern and can help me understand exactly how the “repeat” section works and when to start the repeats, I would be so grateful!
I did my best to try and look at Ravelry posts for help with reading the pattern, but none seemed to be the answer to the specific question I have.

My partner and I are pregnant with our first baby after a rather long, difficult struggle with fertility. Our baby shower is coming up next month and, to be quite blunt, its planning has been a shit-show. My MIL (who is hosting) seems to be throwing the baby shower for herself (an example of which is not even providing food that's safe for me to eat, due to allergies and dietary restrictions).
Recently, my MIL over the phone said, "I wasn't going to say anything, but 'Sandy' asked how [my partner] is doing with the yard work." Poking fun at the overgrown side yard (an acre and a half) of land that has since overgrown. Due to the season being unreasonably rainy, my partner's multiple mandated doubles at work, my high-risk status pregnancy, working on the nursery, etc., our side yard has been a low, low priority. To clarify, we do not live in an HOA, Sandy is not our neighbor. She drives her bike the 3.1 miles from her home, past my house on a country road. I'm assuming the street is merely a coincidence and not her being nosy.
Backstory on Sandy--she's a friend's mom. Our relationship has become very distant/hands off because we just don't mesh. She is rather harsh and judgmental and says whatever she wants without regard for how it affects other people. I, personally, am too sensitive to get along with that personality type well. All in all, I kept it cordial but never personal. A few times over the years it has gotten back to me that she has said unnecessary nitpicky things about my partner and me.
So, as you can imagine--utterly unsurprised to hear she was speaking "out of her ass" again. But this time, for me, was the last straw. Largely because my MIL (who has two bad knees and recently had major reconstructive surgery) then felt the need to volunteer to mow the lawn for us. And the look on my partner's face when I relayed the whole story was GUTTING. My partner has a hard time asking for help and has this fatal flaw where they think they have to work theirself to the bone to provide for their family. Recently, they've expressed that they feel inadequate because work and other obligations keep piling up. So, admittedly, I saw red. My knee-jerk was to get my seven-month pregnant derrière into the riding mower and bounce along the uneven acre and a half until it was all done and then post up a sign that says, "if you don't f***ing like how my yard looks, Sandy, don't drive past it."
Instead, I called my friend and we talked about how to go about it. A) because I am fully aware hormones may make things feel bigger than they are and wanted their insight, B) because I wanted to know how best to approach the subject. Ultimately, they said they'd talk to Sandy and the conclusion was to at least tell her that if she has to make a negative comment about my partner to just NOT say it to my partner's mom.
The talk did not go well, from what I was told.
I am going to be talking to my friend tomorrow about whether a conversation with their mother directly would go anywhere.
All that being said, it's a pretty clear cut decision for me. It IS my baby shower (hosted by my MIL, yes), and I have a say in who comes and who doesn't. As far as I'm concerned, this is a pattern of behavior and this person has hurt my partner and I don't want her there. I informed my MIL about my decision and she told me that Sandy already is aware of the date, time, venue, etc. I called her immediately and told her that I (person who is sending out the invites) would just not send her an invitation and that I would take the entire blame for her not being invited and if Sandy wanted an answer as to why, I'd talk to her directly and explain. My MIL still wants her there because she likes Sandy (and my MIL said, "that's just how she is," etc.)
I told her I would take a beat to think about it before making a decision. So, my question here is would I be the asshole for uninviting a friend's mom who hurt my partner's feelings?
Edit: Autocorrect did me dirty with the title 😤

Hi everyone! I’m looking for a little assistance in fostering love and compassion to my husband recently found an ADHD and autism diagnosis. We’ve been together for 2 years and I really want to make the relationship work and I have done everything I can to be loving and supportive assuring him in finding resources, therapists and treatment however there are some areas that make it hard.
Unfortunately he is unable to hold a job and often has trouble with social cues (over talking, burping in public, not keeping track of where things are). A lot of this I feel he is able to unlearn because it’s clear handoff parenting and being babied is part of the issue as to why these behaviours were sustained for so long, not pointed out or worked on as there was little to no expectation. He’s demonstrated willingness and ability to apply feedback and unlearn thus far in many areas. I want to have faith but I am so afraid of what my life will look like if these behaviours continue (what kind of home we will live in, if I will be able to have kids, constant lows surrounding unemployment and capabilities).
At times I wonder what life would be with someone who was neurotypical and able to raise a child, fix things around the house, have a solid friend group, and even just simply have the confidence to host and converse a dinner party. I sometimes feel more like a mom or teacher than a lover. I really get sad about having to overcompensate for things he’s unable to handle which feels like quite a lot.
Any advice on how to maintain compassion and understanding when there is such defensiveness and repetitive negative patterns of behaviour would be great. It’s hard, I love him so much but at times I feel held back and resentful and a little fearful of the future.

I recently inherited a lot of crochet and knitting supplies from an older family friend who passed, including a hand written pattern for what she called a “Baby Sacque”, and I really want to make it. The second row is confusing me a bit and obviously I can’t ask the source on what exactly she meant anymore, so I thought you all might could give input :) the pattern says:
Row 2: Skip 2 st, 1dc in next stitch, 5dc in next stitch - 1dc in each of next 2 stitches - skip 2 - repeat 2-5-2
The last row ended with a chain three turn, so the skip two kinda makes sense, but I’m unsure if repeat 2-5-2 means 2 dc, 5dc in next stitch, 2 dc, then skip two and repeats, OR skip 2, 5dc in next stitch, 2 dc, repeat. I feel like I’m overthinking this somehow lol. Thanks in advance :)