#start somewhere

Ok so this is the pattern I want to do. The issue is that on row one, it is a 9 stitch float and I don't know how to avoid that. Is there a way to pin it down? If so can you show me a video for it?

Another question I have is, is the knit stitch supposed to look like a classic 'V' in the front but, purl in the back? What is the benefits of switching between purl and knit? Is it just for stretchiness? Also I think I bastard-ized my purl. Essentially, I just did a knit stitch but, every time I transferred all the knits to one side, I switched which hand my needles were in basically just only knitting with one hand for all the rows. I can't remember which hand I started with. Below is the result.

Is there a tool where you can input a pattern (like the one I have above) and then it can track what row you are on for you? Like it highlights the row you are on and then when you press space it moves up a row? That would be so fricken cool if it did.

Lastly, here are the promised progress pics:

    She hadn’t realised she’d raised her hand and moved it towards him until she was lightly poking his cheek, and hastily pulled it back, holding her breath and watching him closely. But while his face did twitch the slightest bit at her touch, he didn’t wake. That pretty much made her decision for her; she got up and went about her morning routine as usual, if taking care not to make too much noise while getting ready for work. Maybe there would be explanations later, maybe this would just be one of those stories she’d tell her future grandchildren about that they would dismiss as ‘abuela being weird again’. Who knew? All she knew was she had better hurry up lest she be late for work. And so, she made breakfast for two and left a note for him on the counter before leaving the house.

  ****

      Loki was tired. There was no other way to look at it. He was completely exhausted; the kind of weariness that seeped into your bones, that weighed down your very soul. Tiredness that had not been helped by having to break out of the cell the Avengers had tossed him into, despite the fact that he hadn’t actually done anything, but alas. His plan had been to lay low for a while in the house he occasionally stayed in, but while some foggy part of his mind reasoned that the room he’d teleported into had just a little too much stuff in it, he’d been too tired to really care about the implications of that and simply got into the bed. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

      Upon awakening late the next morning, Loki noticed three things: 1) This was not his bedroom, 2) this was someone’s bedroom, and 3) that someone had been there with him, if the unmade section of bed beside him was any indication. And he’d slept through their being there and, more importantly, leaving. He was up and alert in moments, looking around for any signs of the house’s inhabitant, creeping silently out of the room and examining every doorway he passed carefully. Upon reaching the kitchen, he found a note on the counter informing him there was breakfast for him in the microwave and to help himself to anything in the fridge.

      Well, then. How curious.

      He considered it might be a trap - surely the house’s owner would have called the authorities upon finding a complete stranger, especially him, in their bed - but if it was, he could deal with it when it sprung. Tired as he still was, he could still manage that. Instead, he retrieved the indicated plate and sat down to a really quite delicious meal while pondering his next move.

  ****

      Carmen hadn’t really expected to find Loki still in her home when she got back from work, but there he was, sitting on her couch apparently waiting for her. She dropped her keys into the bowl by the door and hung up her coat in the coat closet, then walked over and sat on the other end of the couch.

      “You didn’t call anyone,” Loki more stated than asked.

      “I did not, no.”

      “Why not?”

      She shrugged. “You looked like you needed the rest. You weren’t really hurting anyone just sleeping.”

      “You made me breakfast.” That part he was still confused about.

      “I did, yes.”

      He frowned at the non-answers. “Why?”

      “I don’t know; made sense at the time.” She turned her head to look at him. “Why were you in my bed?”

      He considered lying, it would certainly be less embarrassing and wasn’t as though she’d be able to tell, but instead admitted, “I thought it was mine. I seem to have miscalculated my destination a bit.”

      She hummed. “Well, you probably shouldn’t be teleporting that tired, then.”

      He breathed a laugh despite himself. She wasn’t exactly wrong. “Noted.”

      “So, what happens now?”

      “Well, we have two options: I make you forget I was ever here and leave…” He let it hang there, curious whether she would then assume the worst.

      Instead, she calmly asked, “Or?”

      “I leave and we keep this our little secret,” he replied simply, strangely pleased she hadn’t taken the bait.

      She pretended to think about it. “I pick ‘b’.”

      He laughed. “‘B’ it is, then,” he said then stood, intending to leave.

      “Want to stay for dinner?” He stopped and looked at her a bit oddly, and she shrugged. “It’s more fun to cook for more than one person.”

      He thought for a moment, then decided, “If it pleases you.”

      She smiled then stood and went into her bedroom, grabbing some casual clothes before heading to her bathroom to wash up. She walked into the kitchen, pulling her hair into a ponytail, to find him sitting at the counter flipping through one of her grandmother’s recipe books curiously and she smiled a bit to herself. “Any requests?”

      “I’m not familiar with any of these things,” he admitted.

      “Well, then we need to broaden your culinary horizons,” she replied, taking out some pots and pans.

      “If it will be anything like that breakfast, I dare say I wouldn’t mind.”

      She chuckled. “Nothing like a proper dominican breakfast to get you up and about!”

      He watched her work as she got out ingredients and prepared a meal - pastelón, she called it, with rice and beans on the side - then joined her at the table. They ate in silence, but it was a pleasant sort of quiet, and he sat observing her curiously afterwards as she took their dishes to the sink to be dealt with later. She caught him at it when she turned around and raised a questioning eyebrow, and he rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin on his hand.

      “I’m merely wondering if you fear me at all,” he explained.

      “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m not at least a little worried, but you haven’t really given me reason to be afraid. I mean, all you’ve really done is trespass, but, assuming you were telling the truth, that was an accident.” She walked back to the table and retook her seat across from him. “You haven’t harmed me so far, and well… I’m not so sure I agree with the whole ‘getting arrested’ thing the other day. I mean, from the video I’ve seen of that mess, you didn’t seem to actually be doing anything.”

      “I was not, thank you for noticing,” he huffed, “But when you’re me, just being where something is happening is enough to damn you, apparently.”

      “That’s rough. What’re you going to do? They’ll probably be looking for you soon, if they aren’t already. Is it even safe for you to be on this planet at all?”

      “I’m not certain there is anywhere in this universe that is safe for me,” he replied vaguely, then smirked. “Is the lady concerned for my well-being?”

      “And if I am?” she challenged.

      “Then I can warn you that is both dangerous and a waste of time.”

      She hummed noncommittally. “If you say so.”

      He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need your pity,” he said sharply.

      That got him a very indelicate snort. “Good, ’cause you don’t have it.” He eyed her skeptically and she rolled her eyes. “It’s not pity to be concerned about someone else; that’s just being a decent person.”

      “That has not been my experience.”

      “Then you need to surround yourself with better people.”

      “Like you?”

      “Gotta start somewhere.”