#holiday silliness

[ikeromantic]

Hi! I have an idea for Ikemen Sengoku: Making a Gingerbread House with MC! It can be all 17 suitors (if that's okay with you!) getting together and making a gingerbread house (Ieyasu being like "you want us to make a house made out of ginger-flavored bread? 🤣) and eating it by the end?

Happy Holidays!

🎄

Happy Holidays!

I sat on this request for nearly a year, just so I could post at the holiday xD  It’s rather long, but you DID ask for allllll 17 warlords! 

Mai sat on a stool in the vast kitchen, staring at the tiled counters and wooden tables. When she’d proposed a gingerbread contest, she did not expect all the warlords to jump on the idea so agreeably. But they did. Maybe it was the idea that it was a contest . . . 

Nobunaga

He frowned fiercely at the leaning tower of crisp gingerbread. “This is not sufficient. The frothing will not hold and I have yet to add the tenshu.” 

Mai giggled. “You can’t be serious. It’s already taller than anyone else’s gingerbread house. And it’s frosting. Not frothing.”

Nobunaga’s eyes sparked dangerously. “I cannot win if my castle lacks a tenshu.”

“That might be true . . .” Mai teased. 

The cookie tower looked as if it might fall over any moment. Nobunaga began to systematically add supports, determined to win at all costs. “I will make it work,” he growled.

Hideyoshi

His cookie table was an array of smaller gingerbread buildings. He bent over each, adding little details that identified them as shops, houses, and guard towers. 

“That’s really nice, Hideyoshi. But you do know, you only needed to make one house, right?” Mai peered over his shoulder.

“Of course, but Lord Oda’s castle must have a town.” He grinned. “You see? Here is the first shop I took you to, and there is a tea house where we shared a drink together. And there is the gate you met me at when I came back from a battle.”

Mai’s cheeks flushed. “All these places are places we were at together?”

“Yes.”

“That is so sweet!”

Hideyoshi gave a roguish grin. “Sweet enough to win?”

“Maybe,” Mai laughed.

Mitsuhide

Mai found Mitsuhide’s gingerbread house finished. It was a lovely little two story with delicate frosting decorations. Tiny gumdrop people stood outside, and after a moment, she realized there was one for each of the Azuchi warlords, even one that was clearly Mitsuhide. But there was no sign of the man himself.

She went looking for him, but he wasn’t any place she expected to find him. Frustrated, she headed out to the yard to see if he’d left early. When she did, she spotted him slipping into the ingredient storeroom.

“There you are!”

Mitsuhide dropped the gingerbread ingredients he was holding. “Hello there, little mouse.”

Mai raised an eyebrow. “Whatcha doing? Nothing nefarious I hope?”

“Me? Never.” He winked. “Did you follow me here for a little . . . private time? Does it count as cheating if I make love to the judge?” 

“No. And yes.” She put a fist to her hip. “You should probably get back before someone realizes your gingerbread house is undefended.” 

He left with another salacious look. She made a note to herself to make sure no one used the ingredients he’d touched. You could never be too careful.

Kyubei

Kyubei sat in front of a pile of gingerbread pieces, looking confused. 

“Can’t decide what to make,” Mai asked.

“I’m not a warlord, so I’m not sure why I’m being included in this contest. Things would not go well for me if I won . . .” Kyubei sighed. 

“That’s ok. I understand. If you don’t want a shot at the grand prize -”

Kyubei’s eyes widened. “What is the prize? I didn’t know there was a prize!”

“Well . . . it’s nothing much. A day out with me. Silly, right?” She wrinkled her nose.

“Y-yeah. Ummm . . . I just uh, remembered what I wanted to build, sooooo . . .” He leaned forward and began to arrange his cookies. 

Mai shrugged. “Ok. I guess I’ll leave you to it then? Good luck!”

Kyubei was too focused to reply.

Masamune

“Masamune,” Mai said his name with a questioning tone. “That doesn’t look like a house.”

The one-eyed dragon had crumbled his cookies in rows, and used the frosting to construct a series of tubes, ramps, and basins. He was eyeballing what looked like a turning gear made from gingerbread when Mai walked up, but set it down to grin at her. “It’s not! I was just thinking I can use this ginger-bread to model an irrigation system I’ve been working on.”

“Umm. Alright. That’s pretty neat, actually.” Mai leaned close to look at the work he’d done so far. “How’s it going then?”

“Better than expected. Although I had to reinforce the joins here -” he pointed, “and here. I think this cookie has structural integrity issues.” 

Mai nodded. “Well, it is just a cookie.” She sighed. “I hope you’re not planning on running actual water through it?”

“How else would I test it, kitten?” He ruffled her hair.  

Ieyasu

Ieyasu frowned fiercely at the stacked gingerbread cookies on his table. “This is stupid.” His jade glare was in full force as Mai stopped by to see how he was doing. 

“Well, you don’t have to make one if you don’t want to.” She smiled at him and added, “though I’d really love to see what you come up with.”

His cheeks heated and he glanced away. “I hope you aren’t smiling like that at everyone.”

“Like what?”

Ieyasu gave a disgusted sigh. “I better win this thing, is all I’m saying.”

Mai laughed. “Then you should get to building. Mitsuhide’s already finished and Nobunaga has a tower twice as tall as anyone else’s gingerbread house.”

“Pfft. Don’t try to make me jealous.” He gave her an unreadable side-eyed look.

“I’m just telling you there’s some serious competition. But I know you can do it.” 

“Ugh. And now you’re trying to cheer me up,” he tried to frown but the corners of his lips kept curling up in a little smile.

Mitsunari

Mai paused a few steps away from Mitsunari. He had several blue prints around his work station, and his cookies were all organized by thickness, size, and coloration. He was focused intently on sticking two of the pieces together when she finally approached him.

“Mitsunari? How’s it going?”

He didn’t look up or acknowledge her presence.

Mai waved a hand in front of his face, but Mitsunari didn’t seem to notice that either. “Hey, can you hear me? Mitsunari? Hello?”

He continued to work with single-minded intensity. 

“Alright. I guess you’re in the zone, huh?” She eyed the house he was building. It reminded her of something. “Is this . . . Oshi castle?”

Mitsunari still didn’t reply and after a few moments of silence, Mai shrugged and moved on. She supposed he would tell her soon enough, once he got back from Planet Mitsunari.

Keiji

Keiji sat with his arms crossed, glaring at a haphazard lean-to of burnt cookie. The edges were crumbling away, even with the frosting to hold them steady.

“Oh no! What happened?”

He glanced up at her sharply. “I’ll tell you what happened. These hands were not made to bake! What kind of weird idea is this, anyway?”

“Awww. You’re so adorable when you pout.” Mai reached out and wiped a bit of frosting off his cheek, making sure to brush her fingers along the sensitive spot at his jaw line. 

Keiji snatched her hand. “That’s cheating, princess.”

“Maybe, but I bet you feel more motivated now, hm?”

He laughed, his foul mood vanishing as if it had never been. “Maybe.”

“Then get in there and do your best! I’m rooting for you.” Mai grinned and pulled her hand back just before Keiji managed to lick the frosting off her fingertip.

Ranmaru

“Oh, wow! Ranmaru . . .” Mai’s eyes widened when she got close enough to see Ranmaru’s gingerbread house. It was the most adorable little temple ever made of cookie. It sat atop a little cookie mountain, dusted with sugar-snow. Candied animals gathered around it, big eyed, adorable creatures with happy little smiles. A gingerbread monk stood in the doorway, his robes made of pretty purple frosting, and despite a jagged crack in his cookie face, he also sported a wide grin.

“Do you like it?” Ranmaru tucked a bit of hair behind his ear, anxious and eager for praise.

“It’s amazing! Everything is so cute!”

He smiled happily. “Good! Even if I don’t win, I’m just glad my little cookie house made you smile.”

Mai’s heart turned to mush at his sweetness. “You are too much,” she sighed. 

“Are you sure I’m not just enough for you?” He gave her an unexpectedly saucy wink.

“I don’t know. If you get any sweeter, you’ll give me a toothache.” Mai laughed.

“Then I’d get to nurse you until you were better.” Ranmaru’s expression was suddenly thoughtful and calculating. Then he giggled, his usual cute grin firmly back in place. “Only kidding! I’d never want that to happen to you!”

Kenshin

Mai cleared her throat to announce her approach as she neared Kenshin’s work table. It was never wise to surprise the God of War. 

“There you are,” he said, without turning to look at her. “I was wondering when you’d come by.”

She smiled. He always pretended to be so chilly, but she knew better. “So what are you making? It looks like a - a -” Mai leaned closer, examining the little cookie house. “It’s a rabbit hutch! And those are bunnies!”

Kenshin gave her a thin half-smile. “You are correct. This is Take, and there is Matsu, and over here being naughty is Ume. She is eating radish in the garden.” 

“Oh?” Mai looked even closer. He’d crafted a tiny daikon out of cookie crumbs and frosting, which Ume had half in her little bunny mouth. “Wow. You’re really good at this!”

“You sound surprised.” Kenshin raised an eyebrow.

“Well . . . you know . . . the whole god of war reputation and all . . .” She stuttered, feeling suddenly called out.

Kenshin grabbed her by the waist, almost pulling her into his lap. “When I have won this contest, I will take you to Kasugayama, and I will show you more of the God of War.”

Mai swallowed, her heart beating quite fast. “Um. I . . . yes. That would be great. Now if you could just let go?”

Kanetsugu

Kanetsugu wasn’t at his station when Mai stopped by to check on him, but he was easy to find. Pacing quietly at the edges of the room, making notes on each of the other warlords’ gingerbread houses.

“Ummm, Kanetsugu, what are you doing?” She caught up to him to ask her question.

“It should be obvious, fool.” When Mai still looked confused, he sighed. “I’m evaluating the competition, noting flaws and strengths.”

“Oh! That makes sense.” Mai grinned. “So you can learn from the mistakes others make.”

Kanetsugu’s quick-silver smile flickered across his lips. “I see you can think when you try.”  He tucked the notepad away and crossed his arms. “My gingerbread castle will be the best. I cannot lose.”

Mai raised an eyebrow. “You really want to win the prize, hm? But you know it’s just -”

“It is not about prizes. I cannot fail my lord.” His haughty stare had an unexpected heat to it, and just the tip of a toothy fang showed in his sharp smile. “Though the prize is not without merit.”

She felt a blush rise up her cheeks. Somehow, Kanetsugu always ended up leaving her feeling completely turned around and a bit undone.

Shingen

Mai sidled up to Shingen to get a look at his gingerbread house. It was a respectable looking cookie construction. Two stories, with gumdrop flowers on the walls and sugar-pane glass in the windows. “It’s looking really good, Shingen!”

“Is it?” He gave a mournful sigh.

She turned from the gingerbread toward him, worried. “Is something wrong?”

Shingen’s eyes were wide and damp as if he might cry. “I cannot help but feel this cookie house is missing some vital piece. And without it . . .” He sighed again, and looked away.

Mai frowned. “Missing something? Is there an ingredient I can get you? It looks like you used the gummies and frosting and red-hots. You even made sugar-glass for it. I don’t know what else you need.” 

He reached out and took her hand. “It’s missing . . . an angel. But alas, the only angel I know cannot be held by mere baked cookies.” Shingen raised her hand to his lips, and before Mai could react, placed a tender kiss to her wrist, where her pulse was now pounding rapidly. 

“Erm, I think kissing the - the judge might count as cheating, you know?”

“Then I will submit to your divine punishment, oh goddess. Shower me with your . . . wrath.” A wicked little light shone in the depths of his grey eyes and a tiny smile curled on his lips. 

Yukimura

Mai walked over to Yuki’s table, but he saw her coming and quickly covered his gingerbread house with a large sheet of paper. “Uh, hello Yukimura.”

“Go away, boar woman. I’m busy.” He frowned at her. “I don’t know why you’re walking around bothering everyone.”

“Well, I am the contest judge. And I wanted to see how you all were doing. So . . . how is it going for you?” Mai tilted her head, trying to see under the edge of the paper, but Yuki blocked her view.

“Fine.” He continued to block her view using his hands and body. “You can go now, before you trample my cookies.”

Mai poked him in the chest with her finger. “You are so rude. You know I’m going to get to see it at the end anyway, right?”

Yukimura shrugged. “Yeah, sure. But that’s at the end. It’s not done yet.”

“Oh. Well I guess that makes sense. Guess I’ll just leave you to it, then.” Mai nodded and pretended to move away as if she was done checking on him.

Once she’d turned to walk on, Yuki shifted the paper away and bent back to his task. 

Mai spun around too quickly for him to cover it again before she could see. Her lips parted with a surprised breath. The gingerbread house was small and cute, with little heart shaped windows and tiny sugar flowers. Two gingerbread people stood in front of it, hands clasped. One of them had unruly brown hair and big nut-brown eyes with a red and black kimono. And the other looked a lot like her.

Yukimura looked at her, horrified. His cheeks were red and his eyes were wide. “No! Don’t look! You didn’t see, right?” He jerked the paper back over it.

“Umm. No. Nope. I didn’t see a thing. I’ll just, uh, see you. Later.”

“Y-yeah.” Yuki breathed a sigh of relief. 

Sasuke

“Thank you for sponsoring this contest, Mai.” Sasuke glanced up as she approached. 

She smiled. “Well, I didn’t want it to be a contest. Just a chance to make something nice together, but you know how warlords are.”

“I do.” He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I too, am feeling the competitive spirit. I believe I have a fighting chance. My prior exposure to gingerbread cookie houses and my mathematical acuity give me a 64.325 percent chance of victory.”

Mai’s eyebrow rose. “Your . . . math?”

Sasuke nodded. “Indeed. I was able to calculate the precise geometry of each piece of my gingerbread house, even accounting for shrinkage and spread while baking. Additionally, I made use of fractal formulae to create an endless variety of snowflake designs.”

His gingerbread house stood in a swirl of tiny sugar-crystal snowflakes, held by almost invisible threads of spun sugar. And the cookie itself held delicate little patterns made in frosting.

“It’s really lovely,” Mai said, leaning closer to look at the designs. 

Sasuke gave her a conspiratorial bli-wink. “I hope you’ll still think so when it comes time to judge. I am very interested in the grand prize.”

Yoshimoto

Mai had high expectations for Yoshimoto’s gingerbread house, so she was a little surprised when she stopped by his table. The gingerbread house was simple, though elegant. The cookies looked thin, crisp, and very delicate. 

“Mai! Are you previewing the art you will be judging today?” He smiled at her warmly.

“I am. I wanted to see how everyone was doing and if anything else was needed.” She gestured to his cookies. “Are you missing anything for yours? I thought you might need extra decorations.”

Yoshimoto gave a slight shrug. “I think this is sufficient. I can’t think of any item I am missing.”

She nodded and began to step away, but stopped. “Are you sure? Because . . . it looks pretty plain. I thought you would, you know -” Mai made an expansive gesture with her hands.

He chuckled. “Ah, I see. No. I considered visual spectacle as a possibility, but this is cooking. The art of it is flavor, and the purpose is to best display the essence of a ginger - bread. So that is what I have endeavored to do.”

“Oh!” She grinned. “I should have known there was method to your madness.”

“Hopefully I have captured the flavors well enough that I will capture you as well.” Yoshimoto’s smile was teasing.

Motonari

Predictably, Motonari was crafting a gingerbread boat. Though it seemed to Mai that the boat was more a platform for cookie cannons. They lined the sides of the boat in frighteningly accurate detail. 

Motonari grinned widely as she approached. “I thought yer contest idea was more flower-headed nonsense, but turns out this is fun. I didn’t know I could bake a weapon.”

“Erm, yeah. That was . . . exactly what I had in mind too. Cookie weapons.” She sighed. “Well, at least it looks like you put a ton of effort in. The sails look really nice.” The cloth was made from thin sugar-glass, stretched on cookie poles. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “A ship has gotta have sails. But look at this,” he shoved a little cocoa ball into one of the cannons and then lit the tiny fuse at the back of the cookie. 

“Motonari, what did you just -” 

The cookie burst apart, spraying them both with crumbs and chocolate. 

Motonari laughed wildly. “Ahhh, this is gonna be good fun.” He reached over to run a finger along her cheek, wiping off a smudge of cocoa, then put his finger to his lips. “Mmmm, tastes like Oda princess. Sweet.”

Mai stepped back, feeling her cheeks heat. “Hey, no touching the judge! That counts as cheating, you know?”

“Heh, sure. But I’m a pirate. I don’t mind a bit of cheating so long as I win.” The twinkle in his garnet gaze was dangerous, equal parts madness and passion. 

Kennyo

The demon abbott wore a scowl of concentration as Mai approached. His gingerbread house looked like a forest shrine, complete with sugar and cookie trees around it. He was painting tiny details onto the door, but stopped when he noticed her watching.

“You.” He straightened and gave her a tentative smile, unpracticed but genuine.

“I was just coming by to see how you’re doing.” Mai gestured to his cookie shrine. “It looks amazing.”

“Thank you.” He glanced at it and then back at her. “I thought this would be a purposeless exercise, but I find the crafting of this gingerbread to be meditative.” 

She gave a little laugh. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it then. I wasn’t sure if you would even come - but I’m glad you did.”

Kennyo nodded. “I could not waste such an opportunity. Though Nobunaga will survive this day, I will crush him in this cookie making competition and destroy his soul. He will suffer -”

Mai patted his arm and he stopped his resonant rant with an awkward look of embarrassment. “Good luck, Kennyo,” she told him. And as she left, she could have sworn his cheeks colored a bit.

Kicho

Kicho’s gingerbread house was enormous. A veritable emperor’s palace of cookie, heavily decorated with all manner of sweets. Django stick trees beside syrup pools and fruit gelatin sculptures. Spun sugar columns and colored glass, and frosting-painted walls and murals. 

He smirked as Mai gasped in surprise at the size and detail of the thing. 

“This is amazing! You made all of this?”

“Unlike these fools, I have some knowledge of this . . . gingerbread.” He sneered. “They think they’ve planned a winning strategy, but only one of us can be the victor today.”

Mai giggled. “And that will be you?”

Kicho fixed her with a sharp stare. “I am certain of it. And when I am victorious, I will take my prize.” He surveyed her with a slow, evaluative look. When she shivered, he gave a humorless laugh. “You really shouldn’t put something on offer that you’re afraid to give.”

“I’m not scared of you.” Mai took a moment to compose herself, wanting to somehow wipe his smug smile away. “You do realize I’m the judge? Intimidating me is not a good idea.”

In one smooth movement, he swept her legs out from under her and caught her in his arms. “No? But you seem to enjoy it so much. Just look at you now. Your cheeks are on fire.”

Mai struggled out of his grasp and gave him a stern frown. “I should take points off for that.”

“But you won’t. It would make you feel bad.” Kicho smiled again, the expression lighting up his face. “I’ll see you later. Make sure to dress properly for the occasion.”

Epilogue

The dining hall was a warzone. Tables displayed the destroyed remains of gingerbread edifices. Crumbs and bits of dried frosting were scattered like shrapnel from tanegashima. The groans and sighs of the cookie-massacre survivors filled the air. 

At the head table lay one survivor, eyes closed, hand resting on a belly too full to move. She slept fitfully, her dreams a landscape of gingerbread castles and little gumdrop warlords chasing her through them. 

“Does this . . . mean . . . no one won,” Masamune gasped from his spot on the floor. 

“I believe you are correct,” Sasuke sighed. “It appears the judge has been overcome.”

Keiji gave a sad chuckle. “There are some battles no one can win.”

Kennyo made a tsk of disapproval, though he too lay in a circle of gingerbread crumbs. “Excess always leads to ruin.”

“I never thought something could be too sweet,” Ranmaru whimpered.

“We appreciated the beauty and symmetry of gingerbread flavors, and now we must pay for our hedonism.” Yoshimoto gave a breathy sigh. “Still, I would do it all again.”

“You need to reconsider, cuz,” Shingen grunted.

Yukimura exhaled slowly. “My belly hurts.”

“That’s what you all get,” Ieyasu snorted from where he lay on his side.

Mitsunari, sounding chipper even now, asked, “Oh! You are so wise, Ieyasu! You must have stopped eating before we did. And now you’re just laying there to make us feel better.”

“Shut up,” Kenshin hissed.

Kanetsugu tried to sit up. “I will silence them, my lord.”

“Was this your doing, Mitsuhide,” Hideyoshi asked.

Mitsuhide shook his head, his golden eyes closed. “I spiked just one bag of ingredients with fish flakes, but the little mouse caught me.”

“I can confirm,” Kyubei added.

“Then who,” Nobunaga and Shingen asked together, then glared at each other from across the floor. 

Only Kicho was still up, and he gave the fallen warlords a smug grin. “It seems I’ve won the day, and all you fools can rot. I know better than to stuff my face with gingerbread and frosting.” He took a step toward the sleeping chatelaine. “Now for my prize.”

But Kicho had forgotten one thing. His sometime ally Motonari still had his cookie cannons. The room exploded in another round of gingerbread crumbs and chaos.

[dendacien]

Tis the week before Christmas and I am still making art of these two. Despite being an Icon of Death, Todd loves the holidays. Just not like a normal person. Felix dislikes the holidays but is unprepared for the level of whimsy-ass-bullshit Todd generates in a sweetly sad way.

[choochooboss]

Kalosian Emmet ideas are very entertaining rn, keep them coming ahah!!

[infizero-draws]

you have no idea how important this aspect of her character is to me

[goomybearz]

💖🧡💛💚💙💜 HAPPY 3RD ANTOVERSARY!!!!!

we've made it so far and i'm proud of this weird horse <3

[thestrongestjewel]

Eepytale doodles! honestly im loving this dumb little au so much you guys im considering making one of those ask thingies for them,, specifically the main 4 siblings ehee

anyway, expect more eepytale stuff soon :33

[saltpepperbeard]

This is the life...Now boop, or die.

[justarandomart]

happy holidays everyone!

bonus under the cut :)

[alpacacare-archive]

the brainworms are kiiling me. have a dad and son 👍︎

[mothsshoes]

missed these lesbians so here they are ^^

[mepomepo]

got a fun idea just in time!

so i drew it quickly before i have to go for the day ahaha

One of them is helping more than the other for preparations </3 thats the sibling law

[itsdappleagain]

why is carmen wearing that

click for better quality!

thank you @jackie-shitposts for sending me the post that inspired this. and both you and @emily-prentits for helping me see the light of making six different trauma shirts <3

more versions under the cut because i couldnt pick just one traumatic moment. tell me which one is your favorite

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

(it was, in reality, not fine) fic holiday special,, but it’s a comic n not writing lol sorry 😭

Also I am so sorry for my handwriting and the overall messiness of these doodles I have no excuse wheeeeeeze

[remitro]

@blue-gears happy holidays!! :D i was absolutely thrilled to work with applestruda's boatem knights au, i hope you enjoy it!

[frosted-co0kies]

Fantober Day 16: free day :3

prompts: @/flyteestudio

[14dayswithyou]

I'm going to be a little evil :3c /silly

*I have stolen all of their headwear, leaving only FROGGY HAT in his closet.*

"Boy it sure is chilly today. Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay [REDACTED]?"

✦゜ANSWERED: I believe in froggy hat [REDACTED] supremacy 🖤🐸

He knew. Of course he knew. [REDACTED]'s security system alerted him the second you stepped foot into his apartment, and it took the dark-haired hacker almost all of his willpower not to rush home and see you. But alas, he had other matters to attend to and messes to clean up here. Things he couldn't risk putting on hold, lest he pay the consequences for them later.

So, [REDACTED] settles for watching you through his cracked phone screen as you try to sneak your way around his apartment. They didn't really understand why you felt the need to be so secretive; you knew your boyfriend would be out for the day, you had his spare keycard and access to the entire 14th floor, and [REDACTED] had made it explicitly clear early on in the relationship that everything he owned was yours completely. Nothing was off limits to you, and that included every inch of his living space.

...And even himself.

Curiously, they watch with keen interest as you quietly slide the door to his walk-in closet open and take in your surroundings once more — making sure that you really were alone in his dimly-lit bedroom. But barely a moment passes before you stride in with a newfound purpose, unzip your backpack, and begin to stash all of his caps and beanies inside.

Well, alright then. If you decided he no longer needed those items, then so be it. He was never one to deny you anything.

But in retrospect, you were honestly doing [REDACTED] a favour. He genuinely didn't really need those items in his possession anymore — especially considering how he had no real reason to conceal his identity from you after all these years of being together.

He could never forget about that pivoted moment in time when you opened up to your beloved hacker about his rather... intense need to watch over you 24/7. And after you had scolded him multiple times for stalking you from darkened corners and alleyways outside your apartment complex, [REDACTED] had all but tried to change his ways. To better themselves for you.

After all, you deserved nothing less.

Glancing back at his phone once more, [REDACTED] takes in every little movement you make as you continue to tuck away his belongings; down to the turn of your head and the flex in your muscles. Not a single twitch or glance goes unnoticed under his watchful gaze — and had the dark-haired man not been so enraptured by your ministrations — he surely would've noticed that it was just about time for him to start packing his tools up and head home.

Home, in time for the date you had planned for the evening.

But the way you purposefully moved around his closet had [REDACTED] in a trance. You were extremely methodical about the things you were swiping from his shelves; neatly packing away all of the headgear, earmuffs, and scarves on display (and even the ones hidden within the depths of his drawers!). Yet... One single item remained in the aftermath of your wake.

Atop one of the lone shelves in the corner, it sits, isolated from the rest of its kind. Worn out yet well loved; it was no more than a novelty item your boyfriend had originally won for you from a crane game. But even after their constant insistence that you should keep it, you rebutted it all by saying it'd look better on him instead — all while pushing the cute, froggy hat back into his hands with a teasing smile.

("If you keep bleaching your hair like that," his real name falls from your lips like sweet nectar, "All of your hair will fall out. When that happens, you can use this to keep your bald head warm!"

"...When that happens? Hmph. You're gettin' cheeky." With a smile of his own, your boyfriend reaches out to gently pinch your cheek. "I haven't touched m'hair in ages.")

So after watching you be so meticulous with the items you were "robbing", the hacker couldn't help but wonder what your main motive was. Why leave that silly, little frog hat alone unless... Did you want him to wear it? You knew [REDACTED] would never say no to you — let alone to a frivolous request — but admittedly, they did find it rather endearing to watch you put in all that effort just for him.

Just like how he used to be... Back before you opened the curtains of his life and brought sunshine into his heart.

Gone are the days of "Ren", when [REDACTED] had to snoop around your apartment just to get any sort of inclination of what your type and interests might be. No longer did [REDACTED] have to "borrow" some of your old clothing to keep himself company on lonely nights; to put them over his pillow and pretend like it was you he was holding close to his chest. He no longer had to steal your presents and tokens out of spite and jealousy — only to return them days later once they noticed how upset it made you.

Too caught up in reminiscing about the past, [REDACTED] had almost missed your swift getaway from his bedroom. Living up to your nickname, you glide down the staircase and across his foyer as if you sprouted angel wings on your back and stroll into the elevator, before closing the door and pulling out your phone.

And just like clockwork, [REDACTED]'s camera feed gets replaced by the bright red and green call buttons that shake and taunt him at the bottom of the screen — alongside the personalised caller photo of you smiling towards the sunset ocean with [REDACTED]'s jacket atop your shoulders. The dark-haired man leaves no room for pause before he's swiping his finger across the screen and eagerly anticipating the sound of your voice.

You greet him in that casual, nonchalant tone of yours, and [REDACTED] had to resist the urge to start recording the call — to save the addictive timbre of your voice for when he needs to hear it the most.

"Man... It sure is chilly today, don't you think?"

There's the familiar sound of tacky elevator music playing in the background, and part of [REDACTED] thinks you're purposefully calling him right now to let him in on your (not so) secret escapades... To let them know where you are.

Or perhaps you were already aware that he knows, if the way you were glancing up at the elevator camera was anything to go by.

Regardless, you don't give away any other telling signs as your beloved hacker watches you through the camera. Your bag is still carefully slung over a shoulder, while one of his old, black university caps received the pleasure of being fiddled with in your hand. Your voice returns once more, and it causes a grin to form on his lips.

"Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay?"

There's a newfound teasing lilt in your tone, which has [REDACTED] latching on to your every word with bated breath and scrambling for a reply.

"'Course. Wouldn't miss our date for the world. 'N make sure y'stay warm too, angel." Without missing a beat, he easily takes his place in your little game. "Wouldn't wanna misplace your jacket 'n get cold now, would we?"

Your pixelated smile on the screen gives everything away.

You hear the unmistakable sound of [REDACTED]'s sports motorbike before you see it; watching the corner of your street as he appears from the darkness like a phantom.

And like the gentleman that he is, [REDACTED] doesn't make you stray far from the safety of the streetlamp either. The moment your boyfriend pulls up in front of you, one of his large hands reaches around your waist to draw you near (almost as if he'd gone years without being in your presence), while the other makes quick work of the latch of his helmet. In one swift motion, he pulls it off and rests it against the tank—

Only to reveal that cute, pastel green frog hat sitting atop his head.

He can't help but smile when you do; clearly pleased that he went through with your silly request. At that, you let out a low hum of appreciation as you lean against your boyfriend's chest, and [REDACTED] returns the favour by bending down and pressing a chaste kiss against the crown of your head as well.

"...Think y'could give this unworthy prince another kiss, love?" Your beloved boyfriend leans in closer until your lips are millimetres away from touching, "Otherwise I might stay cursed t'live in this froggy form forever."