Oh, hey, more knit!fic
Knit!fic, Nathan and his deep and unpleasant thoughts about acrylic
Here's the thing about Nathan - he tries his damnedest to be a better man. He's been on the receiving end of more than a few snap judgments in his life, and he knows better than most that what you see ain't always what you get out of a person (he always has to struggle not to use Ezra as the perfect example of what he's talking about). And he's proud of his working roots, and how he still uses the same old metal needles his grandma gave him when he was 5 and too busy for anybody's good (though, truth be told, he doesn't use those needles that much anymore, not when he got a set of precision engineered ones a few Christmases ago). He takes pride in the fact that he's not a snob in any sense of the word - and because he ain't a snob, he'll work with all kinds of yarn, even the horrible, cheap, nasty, scratchy, tough, splitty, smelly, tangled acrylic in the eye-searingly bright colors that squeaks when he knits with it and scratches his really nice wood needles and keeps ending up in his stash. That stuff may make the kinds of hats and scarves and mittens that look like a clown threw up and then exploded, and pills terribly, and will likely survive any number of disasters that don't involve open flames.
It's the kind of yarn that's perfect for the homeless man on the corner, who needs something warm in the winter, and for pet beds for the animal shelter, and hard wearing sweaters for his nieces and nephews who are just as busy and troublesome as he was at their age.
Everything has a place and a purpose, even the terrible, horrible, squeaky yarn.
He just wishes Rain would stop buying so damn much of it.
Josiah, happy hooker
Josiah waits until Nathan's attention is mostly on the game they're watching before he rather ostentatiously breaks out his crochet hook and granny square. The mature, sensible part of him knows that it's beyond childish to bait Nathan like this - though he won't ever admit it, Nathan has Views on knitting and crocheting, and it's never nice to force a man to experience cognitive distress.
On the other hand, Josiah knows that he's the kind of man who takes deep pleasure in simple things, and the joy he gets out of twitching of Nathan's eye as he watches Josiah calmly crochet his way around the square is a one of the deepest pleasures in his life.
"I do believe," Josiah says once he's sure he's got all of Nathan's surreptitious attention, "that there's nothing better than crocheting with cashmere."
It takes a supreme force of will to keep himself from out right guffawing at the full body shudder that goes through Nathan.
"That…that ain't going towards the dog blanket, is it?" Nathan asks, in the voice of a man who knows he's going to regret opening his big mouth but is doing so anyway.
"Of course not," Josiah says placidly as he starts the next round. "I'm makin' myself a sweater."
"Ah," Nathan says, and Josiah counts under his breath as he waits for the inevitable, "you know it'd look better knit."
"Hmm." Josiah says. He holds the square away from him and eyes it critically. He's never quite sure how much lacework he can put into a garment for Hannah, but he's thinking a pineapple motif might be just on the right side of acceptable.
"And it'd take less yarn," Nathan adds, going straight for the big guns. His hands are twitching like he wants to rip the crochet hook away. "I can lend you knitting needles. It ain't hard to do."
"I do know how to knit, Nathan," Josiah says.
"Then why do you crochet?!" Nathan nearly wails.
"Because," Josiah says, beaming beatifically at Nathan, "I am a happy hooker."
Knit!fic, Nathan and the acrylic scarf
Of all the things that Nathan's made over the years, the acrylic scarf he made for Ezra is the only one that makes him really cringe.
It's not that it's a bad scarf, as such. It's in Ezra-approved colors, and it's just a simple garter stitch with no bells or whistles. It's almost exactly the same as the scarves he made for the other fellas when they started complaining about the cold and wouldn't shut up about the knitting. Hell, back then, Ezra was actually the best of them at not poking fun about his knitting, and if anybody would know how to take care of a bespoke wool garment, it'd be Ezra.
It's just…
Well, here's the thing.
Ezra was the best at not poking fun about the knitting, but that wasn't because he understood the importance of maintaining a link to one's ancestors and the value of handmade objects, or because he thought it perfectly all right for a straight man to engage in some therapeutic knitting. No, the only reason Ezra'd been silent was because he'd still been fronting with them back then, not letting anyone see who he really was, and Nathan'd thought he was as cold and slippery and wily as a greased pig in a mud pit. And so when Nathan had started the annual "shut up about the cold" knitting for the team, he'd made the executive decision that it wasn't worth it to knit Ezra something out of the nice part of his stash - the man wouldn't appreciate it and anyway, at that point he thought it wasn't like Ezra'd be around come Christmas and he could just give the scarf away to a homeless shelter.
Of course, how could he have known that Ezra's mask would drop - just for a second - when he opened the gift, and that Nathan would get a glimpse of the kind of man Ezra really was; the kind of man rendered speechless by an act of simple generosity? Or that Ezra would wear the damn thing every day that winter and every day the next winter, and that when the damn thing finally got a hole after it got snagged on a nail during a rather epic episode of hot pursuit that Ezra would bring it to him and ask him to mend it, instead of just throwing the damn thing away.
It makes Nathan twitch, now, to see Ezra wearing it, as it reminds him of how he failed, once, at being a better man, and he longs to snatch it from around Ezra's neck and burn it so that he won't have to face his own failings. He longs, too, to knit Ezra a better scarf, one of nice, lofty, soft, cushy wool that will better express the friendship he now feels for Ezra.
'Course, knowing Ezra as he does now, knowing the man who lurks behind the mask Ezra still wears, he's pretty sure the first thing Ezra will do is complain about how it itches.
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth where there are
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Here's the thing about Nathan - he tries his damnedest to be a better man. He's been on the receiving end of more than a few snap judgments in his life, and he knows better than most that what you see ain't always what you get out of a person (he always has to struggle not to use Ezra as the perfect example of what he's talking about). And he's proud of his working roots, and how he still uses the same old metal needles his grandma gave him when he was 5 and too busy for anybody's good (though, truth be told, he doesn't use those needles that much anymore, not when he got a set of precision engineered ones a few Christmases ago). He takes pride in the fact that he's not a snob in any sense of the word - and because he ain't a snob, he'll work with all kinds of yarn, even the horrible, cheap, nasty, scratchy, tough, splitty, smelly, tangled acrylic in the eye-searingly bright colors that squeaks when he knits with it and scratches his really nice wood needles and keeps ending up in his stash. That stuff may make the kinds of hats and scarves and mittens that look like a clown threw up and then exploded, and pills terribly, and will likely survive any number of disasters that don't involve open flames.
It's the kind of yarn that's perfect for the homeless man on the corner, who needs something warm in the winter, and for pet beds for the animal shelter, and hard wearing sweaters for his nieces and nephews who are just as busy and troublesome as he was at their age.
Everything has a place and a purpose, even the terrible, horrible, squeaky yarn.
He just wishes Rain would stop buying so damn much of it.
Josiah, happy hooker
Josiah waits until Nathan's attention is mostly on the game they're watching before he rather ostentatiously breaks out his crochet hook and granny square. The mature, sensible part of him knows that it's beyond childish to bait Nathan like this - though he won't ever admit it, Nathan has Views on knitting and crocheting, and it's never nice to force a man to experience cognitive distress.
On the other hand, Josiah knows that he's the kind of man who takes deep pleasure in simple things, and the joy he gets out of twitching of Nathan's eye as he watches Josiah calmly crochet his way around the square is a one of the deepest pleasures in his life.
"I do believe," Josiah says once he's sure he's got all of Nathan's surreptitious attention, "that there's nothing better than crocheting with cashmere."
It takes a supreme force of will to keep himself from out right guffawing at the full body shudder that goes through Nathan.
"That…that ain't going towards the dog blanket, is it?" Nathan asks, in the voice of a man who knows he's going to regret opening his big mouth but is doing so anyway.
"Of course not," Josiah says placidly as he starts the next round. "I'm makin' myself a sweater."
"Ah," Nathan says, and Josiah counts under his breath as he waits for the inevitable, "you know it'd look better knit."
"Hmm." Josiah says. He holds the square away from him and eyes it critically. He's never quite sure how much lacework he can put into a garment for Hannah, but he's thinking a pineapple motif might be just on the right side of acceptable.
"And it'd take less yarn," Nathan adds, going straight for the big guns. His hands are twitching like he wants to rip the crochet hook away. "I can lend you knitting needles. It ain't hard to do."
"I do know how to knit, Nathan," Josiah says.
"Then why do you crochet?!" Nathan nearly wails.
"Because," Josiah says, beaming beatifically at Nathan, "I am a happy hooker."
Knit!fic, Nathan and the acrylic scarf
Of all the things that Nathan's made over the years, the acrylic scarf he made for Ezra is the only one that makes him really cringe.
It's not that it's a bad scarf, as such. It's in Ezra-approved colors, and it's just a simple garter stitch with no bells or whistles. It's almost exactly the same as the scarves he made for the other fellas when they started complaining about the cold and wouldn't shut up about the knitting. Hell, back then, Ezra was actually the best of them at not poking fun about his knitting, and if anybody would know how to take care of a bespoke wool garment, it'd be Ezra.
It's just…
Well, here's the thing.
Ezra was the best at not poking fun about the knitting, but that wasn't because he understood the importance of maintaining a link to one's ancestors and the value of handmade objects, or because he thought it perfectly all right for a straight man to engage in some therapeutic knitting. No, the only reason Ezra'd been silent was because he'd still been fronting with them back then, not letting anyone see who he really was, and Nathan'd thought he was as cold and slippery and wily as a greased pig in a mud pit. And so when Nathan had started the annual "shut up about the cold" knitting for the team, he'd made the executive decision that it wasn't worth it to knit Ezra something out of the nice part of his stash - the man wouldn't appreciate it and anyway, at that point he thought it wasn't like Ezra'd be around come Christmas and he could just give the scarf away to a homeless shelter.
Of course, how could he have known that Ezra's mask would drop - just for a second - when he opened the gift, and that Nathan would get a glimpse of the kind of man Ezra really was; the kind of man rendered speechless by an act of simple generosity? Or that Ezra would wear the damn thing every day that winter and every day the next winter, and that when the damn thing finally got a hole after it got snagged on a nail during a rather epic episode of hot pursuit that Ezra would bring it to him and ask him to mend it, instead of just throwing the damn thing away.
It makes Nathan twitch, now, to see Ezra wearing it, as it reminds him of how he failed, once, at being a better man, and he longs to snatch it from around Ezra's neck and burn it so that he won't have to face his own failings. He longs, too, to knit Ezra a better scarf, one of nice, lofty, soft, cushy wool that will better express the friendship he now feels for Ezra.
'Course, knowing Ezra as he does now, knowing the man who lurks behind the mask Ezra still wears, he's pretty sure the first thing Ezra will do is complain about how it itches.
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth where there are
comments