#i forgot how fun it was to make crafts even if they were simple

[ugartecoco]

felt a little shit so i decided to make origami and now i have a paper shark friend +10 happiness

[thatawkwardmoth]

In honor of it being my birthday (I'm 20 now bitches, made it), I give you people celebrating Scott's birthday. Because he is a fellow Virgo, I know it in my soul.

Jean: bakes him a cake and makes him dinner. The one meal he likes and eats all the time. Her soup. It's a simple recipe and she stopped making it as much so Scott could expand his palate a little more. It doesn't but she makes it for him on his birthday. She gets him a gag gift and an actual gift. The gag gift is usually something like a card that says a really bad dad joke just so his face drops as he reads it. She's thoughtful with her gift and doesn't pry into his mind for it. She knows her husband.

Emma: Buys him a small cupcake and has him blow it out early in the morning. It's a private moment between them. Scott doesn't like that much attention on him, especially on his birthday so she keeps it between the two of them. She spends a ridiculous amount of money on model plane sets, knowing he enjoys making them in the rare instances of free time he gets and adds a little more spending money on the budget for the Blackbird so her nerdy boyfriend can have his fun upgrading it.

Rachel: as a child in her home timeline, she'd wake him up early, screeching about it being his birthday and getting him a present with mommy. She'd count herself lucky a few times that Scott's optic beams don't harm people with his genetics with how roughly she shook him. Nowadays, she leaves a card and a gift on his desk. The first few years, it was basic stuff with no thought behind it, thinking Scott wouldn't want personal gifts from her, just ties and supplies. Then it turned to science fiction memorabilia that the two shared a love for. She doesn't outright tell him happy birthday, just leaves the stuff on his desk.

Nathan: as a baby and a child, same as Rachel. Jean would dump him on the bed to distract Scott and head off. The two just spent the day together. His gifts were usually drawings and small crafts made with some students' help. More presently, it's usually alcohol or favors traded. Showing up for family dinner with Hope so Scott can have his whole family there.

Madelyne: Wakes up early to put on the right music, spends time just dancing with him. He enjoys the quiet moments before the rush of birthday well wishes. She makes a lopsided treat for him and new books he's been wanting to read but won't buy himself. She has to, he deserves this day to mean something.

Alex: Usually annoys him first, making fun of his age. Buys him a card and a round of drinks. Scott likes to feel useful but Alex takes the lead on their hangout days. They sightsee, go to aircraft shows and museums. He gets Scott a few more puzzles, teases him, enjoys seeing his uptight brother smiling and relaxing for once. He's happy to celebrate with his brother after years of not being able to. He's glad to have another year with his older brother.

Corsair: completely forgot, came back three months later with a lame cheap space book that isn't correct at all and is from an Earth thrift store.

Charles: Ignored it. Just didn't say anything.

Ororo: Forcibly made him give up leadership for the day. Of everything. She's in charge and she demands he spends the day relaxing. She gets him a tea, something he prefers over coffee, and locks him out of the danger room.

Logan: Gets him drunk at their usual bar, let's him rant drunkenly about whatever. Is careful to not start fights with him that day. Challenges him to a race on their motorcycles just to have Scott take a ride with him.

Warren: Expensive gifts but from the heart. His assistant didn't buy the gift for him. Warren spent two months finding out all the details and information he needed to gift Scott with all the proof that he'd donated a large sum of money to mutant charities and an even larger amount to an orphanage for mutant children. He gets Scott other gifts but this one means a lot to Scott in a way another book or trinket doesn't.

The team/mansion/island: Doesn't throw a party for him. He's antisocial and hates them. But all day he gets quiet well wishes and cards. He gets small favors and free drinks. They're all careful to not make a big deal out of it but to show him that they care.

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member is babysat by Kwon Eunbi

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming up with a lot of stuff for you guys so I can make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that my friend LyraHarris8 who gave me this idea on Wattpad likes it! :)

The request: Hi I want to request can you do where the members have to go away for a day and they ask eunbi(kwon eunbi) to look after y/n as y/n were still a minor and eunbi adore y/n. Eunbi play with y/n all day and at night y/n ask eunbi to cuddle and she thought it was adorable. Y/n really love her eunbi unnie. Thank you ❤️

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the bustling city of Seoul. It was a rare day off for TWICE, the K-pop sensation that had taken the world by storm. But even on their days off, there were responsibilities to be met, and today was no different.

Y/N, the youngest member of the group and still a minor, had been left in the care of Kwon Eunbi, a former member of IZ*ONE and a close friend of the TWICE members. Eunbi adored Y/N like a little sister, and she had eagerly agreed to look after the young idol for the day while the rest of TWICE attended various appointments and meetings.

Eunbi arrived at the luxurious apartment building where Y/N lived with her older sisters, her heart fluttering with excitement. She had planned a day full of fun activities to keep the young idol entertained. As she stepped into the lobby, she was greeted by Y/N, who was dressed in comfortable loungewear and had a bright smile on her face.

Y/N - Eunbi unnie! 

Y/N yelled as she rushed over to hug Eunbi. 

Y/N - I'm so glad you're here!

Eunbi returned the hug warmly, her heart melting at the younger girl's enthusiasm. 

Eunbi - I'm happy to be here, baby. We're going to have so much fun today!

TWICE's honey nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with anticipation. 

Y/N - What are we going to do first, unnie?

Eunbi pulled out a list of activities she had prepared. 

Eunbi - Well, first, we're going to start with some arts and crafts. How does that sound, love?

Y/N's eyes lit up. 

Y/N - That sounds amazing, unnie!

They spent the morning crafting together, making colourful friendship bracelets, painting pictures, and laughing as they got paint on their hands and faces. Eunbi was amazed at her dongsang's creativity and artistic talent. She marvelled at how such a young idol could be so mature and talented.

After finishing their arts and crafts, they moved on to baking cookies. TWICE's cutie pie insisted on decorating them with beautiful icing and sprinkles, creating a delicious mess in the kitchen. Eunbi couldn't help but laugh at the youngest's enthusiasm and the way her face lit up with every successful batch of cookies.

As the day wore on, Eunbi took Y/N to a nearby park, where they played on the swings, had a picnic, and ran around like carefree children. Eunbi couldn't help but be amazed at Y/N's boundless energy and joy. She was a reminder of the simple pleasures in life that Eunbi sometimes forgot in her busy idol schedule.

As the sun began to set, they returned to TWICE's dorm. Eunbi had one more surprise in store for the young idol. She had set up a cosy blanket fort in the living room, complete with fairy lights and fluffy pillows. Y/N's eyes widened in awe as she stepped inside.

Y/N - Wow, unnie! This is incredible! 

Eunbi - I thought you might like it, hon. Now, what do you say we watch a movie and have a little snack? *smiling*

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, and they settled down in the blanket fort with a bowl of popcorn and a stack of DVDs. They chose a heartwarming animated film and snuggled under the blankets, their laughter filling the room as they watched the movie together.

As the movie neared its end, Y/N turned to Eunbi with a shy smile. 

Y/N - Unnie, can I ask you something?

Eunbi turned to her, curious. 

Eunbi - Of course, darling. What is it?

TWICE's lovebug hesitated for a moment before speaking softly. 

Y/N - Can we... cuddle?

Eunbi's heart melted at the girl's request. She had always seen her as a little sister, but in that moment, she realized just how much the young idol looked up to her and trusted her. Without hesitation, Eunbi wrapped her arms around Y/N and pulled her close, cuddling with her under the soft blankets.

Y/N let out a contented sigh and snuggled closer to Eunbi, resting her head on Eunbi's chest.

Y/N - Thank you, unnie. I really love you.

Tears pricked at the corners of Eunbi's eyes as she held her little sister close. 

Eunbi - I love you too, sweet girl. You mean the world to me.

They stayed like that for a while, watching the stars through the window as the night grew darker. Eunbi couldn't have asked for a more perfect day with Y/N. She cherished these moments when they could just be themselves, away from the glitz and glamour of the idol world.

Eventually, Y/N's eyelids grew heavy, and she yawned. Eunbi gently tucked her in, making sure she was warm and comfortable.

Eunbi - Goodnight, angel. *whispering*

Y/N - Goodnight, unnie *murmuring since she's already drifting off to sleep*

Eunbi watched over Y/N for a while, her heart full of love and gratitude. She knew that being an idol could be challenging, but moments like these made it all worthwhile. She was determined to be the best unnie she could be for Y/N and all the other members of TWICE.

As Eunbi settled down to sleep herself, she couldn't help but smile, feeling truly blessed to have Y/N in her life. It was a day she would cherish forever, a day filled with love, laughter, and the sweetest cuddles from the youngest member of TWICE. And this made her have only one thought:

We all love our dear maknae.

A/N: I'm sorry for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3

[fyodoro]

oddly specific but can you do the wansho characters making rubber band/bead and string bracelets n necklaces with the reader lol ty in advance

Paper Rings

Featuring Tsukasa Tenma, Emu Otori, Nene Kusanagi and Rui Kamishiro

Bullet point format this time :,) sorry anon. But i hope it’s still to your liking… also sorry for the wait

Tsukasa Tenma

Tsukasa loves doing crafts. Although it’s not his real task at the Wonder Stage, he often helps make the props

So when Tsukasa found a bag of beads with strings next to it, he had a brilliant idea.

He brought home the bag and string and presented it to you with a childlike glimmer in his eye, he actually looked really excited!

“(Name)! Let’s make each other bracelets with these!”

Of course you accepted, who wouldn’t? And even if you didn’t want to, it’d feel like a crime not too

You and Tsukasa sat on the floor of his room for a good few hours making all different kinds of jewelry, ranging from bracelets to necklaces

It was sweet quality time with one another, and when the accessories were finished, you two would never take them off.

Knowing that these were handmade and specifically for the other, you both loved to brag about them. Especially Tsukasa

If someone were to ask him where he got his bracelet and or necklace from…

“Ah! My s/o made it just for me! Isn’t it perfect?”

Emu Otori

This is of course Emu’s idea

You went over to her house to help clean her room, and in the process, finding an old bag of beads with rubber bands and string

When she caught sight of what was in your hands, Emu forgot entirely about cleaning her room. That was too boring- this isn’t though

“(Name) (Name)! Let’s make a bunch of bracelets!”

You wouldn’t decline of course, never would you dream of declining it. Emu dragged you to a clean corner of her room and emptied the bag on the ground

Neither of you really cared about the bigger mess that would need to be cleaned up in a few hours, so there was a bit more freedom with how much you two could make

Of course, you made those bracelets. Not just for you and her- but also the rest of WxS and Emu’s friends at the Girl’s Academy

But you also made necklaces, anklets, rings, and a weirdly shaped dinosaur?

Emu would wear and display what you made for her with pride. She’s keep a bracelet on her wrist but also another connected to her bag, so if anyone were to ask…

“It’s from my s/o! Do you want one as well? I have plenty!”

Nene Kusanagi

Nene didn’t expect her day to be spent like this, not at all.

This was your idea- to make bracelets for each other as well as other accessories. Nene of course accepted your offer, though she doesn’t know crafts that well…

So you needed to teach her how to make a simple bracelet, guiding her hand to the string and connecting them with different beads

Once Nene got the hang of it, she enjoyed this quite a lot!

“(Name), I didn’t think this would be so fun… thank you..”

You told her there’s no need to thank you, and to just enjoy the process and quality time, to which she did

Nene made more bracelets than you thought, even more than you made!

She wouldn’t say it out loud, but she felt accomplished by making you smile

You two didn’t pick and choose which ones you wanted, and only took all the ones the other had made. Unless there was one you’d want to keep-

Nene will wear multiple of your bracelets at once, stacked on her wrist. It’s quite noticeable when her sleeve is slightly rolled, so when she’s asked about it…

“Oh these… they’re from my s/o. Do you also think they look good?”

Rui Kamishiro

Rui has plenty of experience with crafts- after all, he is an inventor and director

This wouldn’t really be either of your ideas, rather something that just happened naturally

Rui was working on a new mascot for the Wonder Stage, and was trying all sorts of designs. One of which being an arm full of beaded bracelets

You saw this and how much work it would be on his own, so you of course assisted him

“Ah dear (Name), you really don’t have to. But if it’s what you want to do, I don’t mind.”

You two are creating these bracelets for hours, focused on a perfect bracelet not only for the mascot, but also each other

Rui at this point is determined to make you multiple of these bracelets as well. Not only for helping him but also because he just wanted to

Your behalf is doing the exact same thing. You two chuckle at the fact you were thinking the exact same the whole time

Rui is not ashamed to wear all the bracelets you gave him, or hook it onto his bag. He feels pride swell up in his chest when someone asks him where he got it from

“I didn’t get this from anywhere, in fact, it was my s/o who made it for me. It looks lovely, doesn’t it?”

[zer0stormz]

Fav games I played in 2022 #2 - The Legend of Heroes: Trails in the Sky

Trails in the Sky was a big surprise for me. I didn't know how much I would like it but I ended up loving it a lot!!!! I really vibed with it, it was a cozy JRPG. I enjoyed the slower pace and how it wasn't focused on big having to save the world things from the get go. The game did a great job of building up its world, the NPC interaction were great. You could talk to them at many different points and see what they have been getting up to, and it feels like a real breathing world that doesn't just revolve around your party.

The party was great. I absolutely love Estelle, she is easily one of my fav game protagonists. She's just so equally badass, dorky and adorable. Same can be said about Joshua too. Ahhhh the two are just so freaking cute together, I love them so much!!!! ALSO I LOVE LOVE LOVE TITA SO MUCH. She's just so sweet and precious and deserves all the hugs in the world she's so cute akjsddkjsf. I love all the other party members you come across as well. They all have so much personality and seeing the bonds form over time is great.

I also loved the story. I liked how we started with a bunch of small time quests and errands as we travelled the country and how it built upon itself. They set the stage for its world and the politics surrounding the countries. They weren't too heavy about it, you could find books/newspapers along your travel that would go deeper as you like which I thought was a great touch. It also felt satisfying completing the game even though it was really just a chapter of a much greater story (the ending OMG, it makes you really want to go start the next right away!!!!).

The combat was enjoyable. It's a simple turn based combat but you can move around the field. The positional component was nice, and I enjoyed how you could manipulate turns and use S-Crafts to interrupt and delay opponents turns. It added more depth to a simple system. I also liked looking around for the shining poms so I could farm them to get up to level quickly without having to grind a lot of normal mobs. Also I love the evil penguins. They are so freaking strong and adorable and the best!!!

The Trails series is quickly rising to be one of my fav series. I started Trails in the Sky: Second Chapter, really enjoying how the story was going though I've been on a bit of a hiatus from it (i will definitely be picking it back up though!!!). I love the mix of humor and serious moments, the characters are some of my favs, and it's just such a cozy fun series!!! There's a lot of missable things though which is my one bummer, I keep a guide on me at all times just to make sure I don't miss anything, this is the one RPG series where I really want to do everything I can!!! OH ALSO ALMOST FORGOT TO SAY BUT I LOVE THE CHESTS. If you check the treasure chests after opening them there's a lot of funny dialogue!!! These games just have so much good little details!!!!

[grailfinders]

Fate & Phantasms #57F: Eric Bloodaxe

well now you've done it. look what happened, y'all've made fun of Eric Bloodaxe (the bloodaxe king) so much he up and left Fate entirely! he's set out to Eorzea to check out that free demo of hit MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn he's heard so much about. but he still wants to wear something slightly resembling his usual outfit, so he asked us to help out. that's right, we're making your favorite fate characters as glamour sets now! why not?

so to start with, if we want to look the part we need to start at character creation, and thankfully we won't even need to worry about getting horns from somewhere else, since the Au Ra race is kind enough to provide them for free!

admittedly he does still look a lot skinnier than I'd like, but that's just how mmo's tend to work, y'know? damn you, anime prettyboys! that being said, at least you'll always be able to swing a giant axe around if you play a Marauder. they definitely feel beserker-y too! run into literally every enemy and don't stop swinging until they're all dead, real easy gameplay.

we'll put all the real nitty-gritty stuff at the end, but for now our model's here so we'll talk about the fit. in order to put on any glamor (which allows you to make your armor look like whatever so you're not constantly mix-matching to get the best bonuses) you need to be level 30. I am not leveling a whole-ass character just for an April Fools bit, so our model this evening shall be Miss Akeminemi Homumomu. say hi Akeminemi.

we're going to make as much of our outfit as possible so you can wear this as early as possible, and with as little grinding as we can manage. to start off, let's talk weaponry. most of the crafted axes you can get are a little too clean to work as a proper bloodaxe, but you can at least match Eric's double-bladed style with a labrys, specifically a Spike Bronze Labrys as that is the lowest-level one we can make.

UPDATE: we found a weapon that matches Eric's blood axe much better! the end of the Extreme primal questline, "To Tussle with Gods", gives you tokens you can exchange for the Dual Haken.

your headgear is dead simple, as thanks to the average MMO player's obsession with their own face you can just toggle off the visual part of your helmet anyway, no crafting needed. score one for vanity!

your body is less so. while you can just not wear anything if you like living dangerously, most party members will appreciate you actually wearing armor as the party tank. in that case, you'll want to wear the Emperor's New Robe as a glamour, turning whatever armor you wear invisible! once you can glamor you can buy one from a nearby merchant for less than 100 gil, it's a steal. that being said, Akeminemi looks like a small child, so she'll be wearing a shirt for modesty's sake.

for your gloves, pick up some Goatskin Armguards and dye them a skintone, I think Pumpkin Orange works well enough for our purposes. boom. arms, guarded.

your Pants were the biggest sticking point here- there aren't many skirtlike options you can make that still have metal on them, especially in early game. if you've got the time or you're already high level, the Light Steel Subligar is the only one I could find that's craftable. that being said I've beaten the basegame and I still can't make the damn thing, so we're using the Brand-new Trousers as a substitute. you get them as part of the main story quests, so it's still easy enough to get.

finally, for Eric's big stompy boots grab some Bronze Sabatons and darken them with some Kobold Brown Dye. so, let's see how it looks all together, shall we?

absolutely terrifying. happy April Fools Day, y'all!

(oh right, the specifics, almost forgot)

for character creation:

pick Au Ra, the Xaela variant set height to max tail style 3, reduce size to min face 1 skin color: row 16, column 4 hair style: row 6, column 1 hair color: row 8, column 7 jaw 4 eye style 2, with large irises eye color: row 12 column 4 no limbal rings (he's not a cat now, c'mon) eyebrow style 6 nose 5 mouth 3 default lip color only use the eyebrow addons under the "other" options no facepaint and voice #12

and again, his outfit is Spiked Bronze Labrys Emperor's New Robe Goatskin Armguards (dyed Pumpkin Orange) Brand-New Trousers (or Light Steel Subligar) Bronze Sabatons (Dyed Kobold Brown)

[humanwithfourheads]

Je suis humain.

I am human.

Humanity is a fickle thing. It’s constantly changing, at least, depending on who was asked. What does humanity mean to them? It can mean a lot of things, it can mean desire, family, the look of the skin and the body that holds the physical property of humans. The perspective of people is what made that definition.

It was a topic that made Antoine think. This idea that humanity was made up of the exact thing it was meant to define, humans, was beautifully crafted in a way. It wasn’t true by any means but the thought was there and it was so sweet.

The floating palace home had been coming along quite nicely. It had a lovely view of their moon and the shit towers beneath it. Nostalgia had been what drove him to craft the four pillars. Something as simple as dirt can be pretty too. Nobody really thinks about that. There’s so many prettier materials, why would dirt be their first choice? They forget the dirt is what holds them day by day in the cradle of a universe expanding beyond everyone’s earthly existence.

Oh! Dirt is also just fun. It can grow stuff and has smaller bits of rocks in it.

Stepping back for a better view Antoine gave a satisfied hum. The windows looked nice. The first wall wasn’t done but stepping back to see the progress of his creation is always so pleasing. Change was always happening and building was a perfect example of that.

This project has been keeping them busy. They still visit Pomme to take care of her of course. A lot has happened though, she knows that, she watches from afar like watching hamsters in a wheel spinning. The timing might have been bad to announce his newfound communication abilities, but oh well, Antoine hopes they know that while she doesn’t understand the fuss she’s glad most of them came out unharmed. That death message had given him a moment of shock, it didn’t stay as it never does, but it was definitely a surprise. Hm. Mortality was a rope their universe defied wasn’t it?

Moving on, Antoine smiled. She usually was but this time it was for a good reason. There was a mark left on this world by him. Something done by his two hands that would forever sit on in this world even if it were to one day slip into the distance of time.

“C'est parfait.” It was. It was perfect to them and that’s what mattered most. It didn’t need to be perfect to anyone else but her and that’s why it was special. Sure, Antoine would show their work off, but the responses of his friends mattered very little. What mattered was how it was to him.

Antoine approached the first wall, fishing out the blueprints from their bag. They weren’t very sure about their placement of the windows and just needed to double check that he had done it right. Perfection wasn’t what he was chasing but they just wanted to make sure it was correct so far.

As Antoine studied the glass she caught her reflection beaming back at her. The cardboard box smile greeted them with a loopy expression. Antoine was alone that day, no Pomme, so she wasn’t as bothered to hide their form with their robes. Their dark hands with red tops and claw-like nails visible holding the contrast of the blueprints.

Sometimes Antoine forgot his appearance wasn’t the most human resembling. It used to be. Hell, even on the plane to the island it was. She can recall as the flight progressed the ill feeling of being wrong creeping down their spine. The shock of running to the cramped bathroom to see his face fading into inky depths again. The disguise of human skin was slipping and only got worse the closer to the island the plane got. Antoine had taken some random box left stored away and drew silly expressions to distract from it, not that Antoine found it ugly, just that Antoine didn’t want their friends to be put off and ask questions. No one questioned it. It was Antoine, of course Antoine would do something silly like that! Wearing a box on her head! Being on the island though it worsened. The disguise wouldn’t come up anymore, his old form of skin wasn’t coming back.

Poetic, in a way, thinking about that now. That face died so many years ago but the person never did. That human lost their soul only to be graced again by the universe with the chance to walk once more. Antoine was lucky, he thought, looking into the glass. Those who are given second chances don’t always come back the same. She did. That weak humanity is still intact in their mind racing with the fear of life and death, but not the universe. The universe took their hand and showed them the course soil they walk on.

If the box was off Antoine would look fond. How could he not? It was a gift to be human again. Every few years that thought comes up and it’s such a loving memory to her.

Taking a final look at the glass Antoine picked up quartz and began to add fine details to the first wall. Soon the palace would be finished and there would be another mark in this world. This time the goal was to work until the two moons sat above each other waving like old friends of the world. Perhaps they could have a castle-warming party to celebrate? Maybe not. After that last party he had witnessed with her second pair of eyes it didn’t seem wise to try and have a party. Oh well. There’s only one thought Antoine holds for certain.

I am human.

Je suis humain.

[C'est parfait - It’s perfect]

[quickdeaths]

@more-than-a-princess continued from here

Shinobu bristled. She was used to being misunderstood. Anzu would argue that it was due to the way she spoke, that she didn't make being understood a priority. There was truth to that, they supposed, given how little they didn't offer correct anyone who had taken their words the wrong way. And yet... There was something about this particular interaction that pushed them to ensure their words weren't misconstrued.

"You've misunderstood me, Miss," Shinobu murmured, hands crossed over their chest as they found further space for themselves under the covering. "When I spoke of tourists, it wasn't literal." She was obviously not Japanese, so perhaps Shinobu's words had offended, but even that seldom mattered to her. A veiled accusation of impoliteness, though, was one thing Shinobu couldn't stand. She was an unkind person, truly, but rudeness was a step too far.

"Rather, this event is for the benefit of music, visual arts, and other traditional pursuits. In the modern era, those who strive for excellence in such fields operate at society's fringes." Shinobu herself understood that feeling, though her icy heart repelled any attempt at shaming or belittling her. Even for a master of an art like herself, societal pressure would so often rather see her as a businesswoman.

Perhaps Anzu was a better example, a peerless, generational talent, a genuine genius in an art that many people forgot existed in the age of television dramas and imported American films. How many times had she heard that she should switch careers, to give up her craft in favor of modeling hand soap or being the twenty-fifth chair in a morning variety show? Small-minded idiocy.

Again, they bristled, questioning for what purpose they were even bothering to explain themselves. "The eccentricities and the dedication of such figures is derided by the society at large. For those socialites whose livelihoods depend upon stamping out that dedication to then surround themselves with art and play at a night of creativity, only to wash their hands of it in the morning as though the ambition of the most dedicated among us were dirt upon their palms, strikes me as shameless behavior."

Most of the time, Shinobu considered herself restrained, and though she hadn't shown anything, she could feel the smallest of embers burning inside of her, directed not towards Sonia but rather many of the fundraiser's organizers. A lifelong businessman, a scandal-ridden politician, the heir to a telecommunications empire, all using a fundraiser as a stepping stone to boost their own reputations.. "I have no issue with those whose appreciation is genuine. It's those who fake their appreciation in the name of status, that I find distasteful, regardless of national origin."

She did not enjoy being worked up, and Shinobu forced herself to cool off, extinguishing those small embers without mercy or reservation. The offered card and pencil provided the excuse to cease speaking long enough to return to their typical, frigid state. Rather than write her name, though, Shinobu simply began to sketch in the designated area. Never would she call herself a visual artist, but something simple wasn't beyond her capabilities, and as she handed the pencil back to Sonia, her drawing was revealed: the head of a deer, one half furred and alive, the other half simply a stripped skull. The in-between.

There wasn't time to say much else before Sonia was whisked away. Shinobu was left alone, until her phone began to buzz inside her jacket pocket. Anzu. "Shinobu-chaaan~ How's the fundraiser? Are you having fun? Making friends?" Shinobu scowled. "You're obnoxious, Miss Tachibana." Over the phone, Anzu gave a weak, whimpering sound. "Miss Tachibana, huh? You ARE mad." Whatever faux-gloom had settled into Anzu's voice dissipated quickly as she let out a soft giggle. "Sorry, sorry. I've just had so many shows recently, and fundraisers can be so stuffy! Much easier just to spend time being adored at the host club."

Shinobu's expression didn't improve at all. "You said you weren't feeling well." "Oh, did I say host club? I meant hospital ehehe..." Anzu gave a weak, fake cough. "But enough about me, don't dodge my questions!" Shinobu let their eyes flick upwards, looking back into the ballroom. "Neither fun nor friends, no." "Really? I'd thought you'd be popular. You haven't talked to anyone?"

"I should return home." "She's totally dodging the question! You did talk to someone! A girl? Did your Rules come up? Oh, tell me ab-" Shinobu sighed, rubbing at one temple with her free hand. "You're obnoxious, Miss Tachibana. I will text you later. Goodbye." End call, power off. What an annoying companion, she thought, even as she dried herself once more with Sonia's handkerchief and returned to the ballroom. It would be rude to leave after having signed Sonia's card, they supposed.

[rosecochonnetduprintemps]

For the sentimental asks, all questions with a 1 in it please. :-) ❤️❤️❤️

Hiii!! I hope you are doing well! 😊❤️

Also thank you for the ask! I totally forgot I had this post in my drafts (like many others but shhh) and decided to post it because why not?

1 - What’s the last recipe you tried? Blueberry pancakes!! 10 - What did your childhood bedroom look like? Uhm... bland and messy. It wasn't really a child's bedroom since it was a pretty complicated time. But I remember having this big, (and a bit ugly), lion plushie where I could sit on it and I had a Winnie the Pooh blanket on the bed, that's all I remember. 11 - Are there any recurring themes in your dreams? For some reasons, turning into a werewolf. But often it's the feeling of being powerless in front of things that are happening in front of me. 12 - Any good memories from this time of year? Good memories... hmm, maybe not from this time of year, holidays are just... sad for me. Overall I had a lot of fics ideas (just gotta write them oops). I also improved a bit in digital art which is fun. I feel like I got closer to my irl friends and I get along very well with a new coworker. I'm just trying my best. :') 13 - What do you like about yourself? For my physique, I love my hands, my hair and my eyes. Personnality wise, I would say... my imagination and my kindness. I don't really know what else to say on that. 14- What’s your favorite food from what you grew up eating at home? Poutine! ♥ But I grew up eating a lot of fish too, mostly cod, it's so good. 15- How do you show affection? I'm a very touchy and affectionnate girl with people I love and trust. Hugs, handholding... Physical touch is very important to me, just like words of affirmation. But to be honest, the 5 love languages fits me very well lmao. 16- What have you been listening to? Name one song from each of your 5 recently played albums: American Pie by Don McLean // Footloose by Blake Shelton // Welcome to my Life by Simple Plan // A Thousand Years by Christina Perri // Istanbul by ParticleMen // Rock you like an Hurricane by Scorpions 17- Do you like the name your parents gave you? Are you named after anyone? Do you have any nicknames? I love the name I have, as for if i'm named after anyone- not really. Nicknames? I got a LOT! 18- What does your dream home look like? Not too small, not too big, just enough. I imagine it cozy, with some fantasy-like decoration, plants and succulents a bit everywhere, in almost each pieces. Paint would be warm colours, to make the place feels like home and welcoming. I imagine putting some paintings around the place as well, as well as having a place of my own where I can do my art and crafts. I'd like a dog too, or even a cat- or both and maybe a reptile friend as well. I could go on and on for each pieces but i'll stop there ahaha. 19 - What’s the name of your first crush or first friend? I won't say their full names, but for my first friend, her name started with J, as for my first crush I ever had, his name started with D. 21- What songs were you obsessed with last year? Savages by Marina and the Diamonds // Killer Queen by Queen // Horns by Bryce Fox // Hey Brother by Avicii // Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd // Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy 31- A lyric that feels like it was written specifically for you/about you:

"I know it's hard to tell how mixed up you feel Hoping what you need is behind every door Each time you get hurt, I don't want you to change Because everyone has hopes, you're human after all"

"Please don't go, I want you to stay I'm begging you please, please don't leave here I don't want you to hate; For all the hurt that you feel, The world is just illusion, trying to change you"

- VNV Nation, Illusion (I couldn't choose between those two part so here is both)

41- What was your dream job as a kid? Who didn't want to be a veterinary as a kid? Surely not me, I wanted to become one so badly! Or even work to protect endangered animals, like lions and rhinos. But as I grew up I discovered the real jobs vets does and I am too sensitive for that even if I love animals a lot. :')

Thank you again for the ask!

[artemismakesdeer]

Fire Emblem: Engage -- A Brief Review

So, I finished Fire Emblem: Engage last week and with the game leaving such an impression on me I feel like sharing my thoughts and opinions on this tactical, turn based, "animesque" beast. It's not every day I play a Fire Emblem game (and it's even the first time I finished one!)

With my limited experience with the franchise, I can't draw comparisons on how the game stacks against the predecessors. As someone with almost no previous experiences with FE, this is a review for other people in a similar position.

so...

Is it worth it?

Yes, with a few caveats.

In terms of gameplay, the game is phenomenal, with long engaging battles that often felt like puzzles to unravel. Very often I'd find myself sinking over 30 minutes in a chapter without ever noticing the time pass me by. Combat is complex enough to offer many different challenges and a good variety of solutions for said challenges, with a richness of classes, characters, weapons, and abilities that always kept the game fresh from start to finish.

It's when the game leaves the Chapters and "Paralogues" (the name given to sidequests with unique rewards such as units) that enjoyment starts to suffer...

Fire Emblem: Engage suffers from a plethora of side activities that range from useful, but boring, to entirely pointless and extremely boring. The small minigames and interactions you can have with other characters in the main hub are repetitive, but reward you in ways that always made me feel like I'd be putting myself at a disadvantage. I would often dread the moment of going back to my home base knowing I'd have to do the exercise minigame, the fishing minigame, have a meal with two other characters, pet the local domestic spirit... It got tired extremely fast.

However, the biggest culprits were definitely the random battles always cropping up in already completed maps and, especially, the Tower of Trials. Very quickly I realized they were but a waste of my time, giving me pitiful rewards for prolonged battles that lacked the creativity and charm of the actual Chapters and Paralogues. In both cases, I gave them a try then just forgot they existed and felt no loss.

And then there is the story.

I've seen much criticism leveraged towards the plot and characters, and I would agree that much of it is justified, although I myself I had no personal problem with the game's story. It is simplistic, tropey, and campy, but if you come in knowing what to expect you might still find yourself having a good time and the camp (I would even argue the camp is the best part).

But truly, what harms the story the most is marked low quality of most of the game's "cutscenes". While the few pre-rendered cutscenes are a joy to watch and very well animated, those are far in between. The vast majority is simple dialogue boxes over barely moving characters in front of backgrounds that are very often just static PNGs, and the contrast is quite jarring.

In Conclusion

Fire Emblem: Engage is a very fun game when it does what it does best: engaging uniquely crafted turn based battles that make the most of its character driven tactical RPG gameplay. Whenever it drifts from that, the fun factor starts to degenerate at a disturbingly rapid pace.

I can recommend it, but I ask that you know what you're getting yourself into before buying. If you can get past the camp, the atrociously low quality cutscenes, and the excessive amount of boring and sometimes pointless side activities, you might just find a beautiful gem of a game hiding underneath.

[httpsfmpyear2]

EVALUATION

Media and techniques

For my project, I created a 2.5D open world exploration game. I learned how to make a 2D character animation blueprint so that I could have them animate in different ways depending on the circumstances. For example, I could make my character go from an idle animation to a running animation depending on the character's velocity. I’ve never created a state machine before, even for a 3D project, so doing something like this was completely new to me, and I’m glad I’ve learned a more effective way of changing the sprites animation depending on the state they’re in. I was only able to learn this by using YouTube videos, but I was able to figure things out further by testing out different issues by myself. On top of that, I was able to learn how to make an inventory system to allow the player’s to carry objects. This was a must have as I needed some way to link my initial idea stated in my project proposal of creating a quest system to my game, and having an inventory system was a must for the system so that the player could have a way of seeing all of the things they have picked up, and check if they had enough of it. Again, I had to use YouTube videos for this because a proper inventory system is a complicated process that I couldn’t do without some help.

Purpose / theme / concept

I did need to alter the main genre of the game from sandbox to open-world. Even though I did add in a sandbox element right at the end, I still wanted to change it to open world to make the genre more what I intended it to be rather than something that I didn’t mean it to be. I also had to add in the part about it being modern mediaeval. I solved most of my problems in my project by going through any failed pieces of code, and adding in print strings so that I could see which part of it was failing. After finding out which parts of the code were failing, I would check to see if it was just a simple spelling mistake, or if I forgot to add in the execute node. I didn’t have to make too many changes other than that to make sure my project fits with my proposal. The main drive of the game was for it to be an open world game in the first place, so simply changing the genre in my project proposal seemed to be the only needed change.

Outcome

I don’t think I quite met my expectations for this project. I think my project started off well and strong, but then it started to fall off a little. I think I definitely could’ve added a lot more to make the player’s experience a lot more enjoyable. Compared to my previous project, I think this is a big improvement. I learned things I didn’t think I would be able to do, and I also made my first fully open world game, but I don’t think this turned out as good as it could’ve been. I think that the game could use a lot more quests, and maybe even a multiplayer option so that you can at least have fun with your friends. I feel like there should be a crafting option too so that you could possibly make improvements to your items. On top of that, there should’ve probably been some sort of special effects you could get from consuming certain items. However, it did meet the briefing I set out, so in terms of that, it was an okay outcome for what I set out to do. Should I have done more though, yes. Yes I should’ve.

Conclusion

In conclusion, I think I would give this an overall score of okay. I do like a lot of the things I had made for the game, in terms of the code and what the player is able to do, but I would definitely want to add a lot more things into this to make the experience a lot better. As mentioned before, I’d like to add in a lot more features. I feel like there really isn’t too much to do, and it doesn’t have much replay value. For games, replay value is essential otherwise you won’t be able to have player’s come back and enjoy the experience. My game feels more like a one time only game and then you don’t touch it again. If I were to make this again, I would like to add some story to it. I feel like if I had another project after this one, I would stick to story driven games. I feel like that is my favourite thing to make, and I think I do a better job in that genre than all the others. I think I could’ve added a few more pieces of research for my project, but I think I have enough for it to be classed somewhere after the minimum. I think adding in a few more side-quests would’ve at least extended the duration of play time, but for a base minimum product, it’s okay.

[tpwkxxangel]

Is this the real life? pt. 4

**not my photo**

my masterpost; fic masterlist; part 1; part2; part 3

[warnings: alcohol consumption, language, angst?]

Screaming, crying, throwing up. Multitasking if you will.

That’s all I’ve wanted to do for the past 24 hours. I’ve been going through the motions of life trying to hold myself together instead of going into a fangirl meltdown. Since I read Harry’s message, my brain has gone blanks.

@/Harry_Styles: Hey Y/N! I was just wanting to check in and see how you were doing after the show last night? -H

Such simple words that caused my brain to malfunction.

He knows I exist. I know that’s so stupid of a statement to finally absorb when I literally held a conversation with him, but how am I expected to function now that he knows I exist?

What makes matters worse, is that I haven’t even told the group chat. I can’t just shoot a text saying ‘Hey! My day’s been great. The meeting went well, I got an extra set of those cool detachable erasers ... oh and Harry DM’ed me on Twitter.’

That would not go over well at all. Luckily we have our weekly zoom session tonight so I can discuss the knowledge of my existence with them face to face.

Now what makes me nervous is the fact that I’ve left him on read for more than 24 hours now. What if he doesn’t want to talk to me now? What if I took too long and he forgot about me? What if--

I physically shake myself from my thoughts. My friends will know what to do. I pop the bottle of wine open and grab the bottle and a glass before making my way to my room. We have our ‘Weekly Wine Night’ as Dove calls it.

I pull up the zoom app on my laptop before starting the meeting and sending everyone the link. It usually takes them a few minutes to join, so I pour myself a hefty amount of wine in the glass before taking a leisurely sip.

“Hey bitches! Who’s ready to get fucked up?” Rachel raises her own glass of pink wine to the camera as everyone pops up.

We all laugh at her antics. She’s often the first one to pop the bottle and last to put it down. A party animal through and through and we couldn’t love her more.

“Ugh, can I go first this week? I have to tell you guys about the customer that I had to deal with on Wednesday,” Katie rolls her eyes, “It was like a wild Karen entered the building and I was not having it!”

She proceeds to tell us about a woman who entered her arts and crafts store to pick up an order, but wouldn’t leave once she received it. She tried to get a refund and store credit when she threw a fit over nothing.

We all laugh and talk about other stories of our week, some about people from high school who were blasting their lives all over Facebook.

For the first time since his message, I actually feel somewhat centered. We all met about two years ago. We were all placed into a group chat with a very very controlling fan. She branded herself as the ‘leader’ of our group when we were all trying to have fun on Twitter. When Harry started to promote his new album, the fans went crazy with new theories about the tracklist and things. She stole all our ideas and tweeted them as her own. It was just a very toxic environment, so we were sure to move chats and block her from all platforms.

“Anything interesting on your end, Y/N?” Dove asks noticing my far off expression.

“Um,” I take another sip of wine hoping to ease the words that come next, “I received an interesting DM yesterday.”

“Was it from that account that got suspended and is trying to get their ratio back using their back up account again?” Sofie rolls her eyes.

I laugh, because I did get one of those yesterday too, “No, no, um, this one was from Harry.”

Everyone quiets down. I think they are waiting for me to say ‘just kidding’ or ‘gotcha’ but I figured I might as well tell them now before I ignore Harry anymore.

“You’re joking right?” Katie asks.

I shake my head pulling up the chat to show them. “I low-key wish I was, but” I hold up my phone and show them the screen.

It’s like proof was all they needed to unfreeze.

“Y/N! STOP IT RIGHT NOW! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US?” Dove shouts into the screen.

I hold my hands up in defense. “I didn’t know how to handle it! I’ve been in love with this man since I was like 13 and now, he’s messaging me over Twitter and not remaining the fictional character in my head! What am I supposed to respond?” I pout in defense.

Rachel rolls her eyes, “What’s the real reason?”

Ugh. Leave it to your friends to see through your pretenses.

I look down for a moment at the intimidating message. “It should be simple right?” I look back up at my quiet friends with a fake smile. “I’m a fan of his who has followed his every movement throughout the years. I’ve built up an immunity to his surprises, so why is it so hard to believe he would want to check up on me? Why would he give me the time of day after everything was done with back at that stadium?” I shrug with a self-deprecating laugh.

“Okay first off, you are one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met and he should feel lucky to even talk to you,” Dove says calmly, “Secondly, this is very much real, and you have a chance to talk to him.

“Yeah,” Katie tags on, “He wouldn’t have sent you that message if he truly didn’t want to hear back from you.”

“Oh my gosh! Do you think he was looking on stan twitter hoping they would find your user?” Rachel asks.

“That sounds a little far fetched,” Sofie says unsure.

“Oh I’m pretty sure he has a stan account floating around somewhere. He knew we measure his life according to his hair length,” I roll my eyes at the memory. I take another sip of wine and look up at the ceiling before sighing. “I’m gonna message him.”

A round of cheers sounds while I think of a reasonable response. How the heck to I do this?

@/yourusername: Hi Harry! I’m doing well. I flew back home yesterday, so I wasn’t able to get back to you sooner. The post concert depression is hitting, but I’m super excited to see you next week. Hope you’re doing well!

“There. I sent something,” I lift the phone up to show them before putting it face down on my desk, “He’s probably doing singer things you know. Like I probably won’t hear back from him anytime soon. Maybe he didn’t even notice I didn’t message back right aw--”

The sound of a tweeting bird interrupts me. We all look at each other wide eyed.

“Y/N?” Katie quietly whispers, “Who was that?”

Sofie’s face breaks out into a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, Y/N, who just DM’ed you?”

I shake my head, eyes still blown wide in slight panic, “I’m too scared to look.”

“Don’t be a baby! You already kept them man waiting for 24 full hours!” Rachel laughs.

I finally relent and pull up the chat.

@/Harry_Styles: I’m so glad to hear you’re back home safe. I was a little worried about leaving you at the stadium that night. What show will you be at next week?

I read aloud for my friends. It was almost like he was waiting on my message.

“He’s totally trying to spark conversation with you,” Rachel says.

“Shut up. This is not a rom com,” I sigh.

“What are you gonna say back?” Dove asks.

“Yeah, I think you should say--” Sofie is cut off by Katie clearing her throat.

“Listen. Why don’t we not crowd her. Let’s continue our wine night and she can talk to us if she really wants our help.”

I send her an appreciative smile. It’s almost like she read my mind. I think just having them here is already helping me gain control on my thoughts. Emotional support is what I needed.

They all fall into easy conversations again, but I can tell they are all keeping an eye on me.

@/yourusername: I’ll be in Nashville for both shows! I’ve always wanted to go, so I’m flying in a little early to explore a bit.

@/Harry_Styles: Nashville is super fun! It’s one of my favorite places to stop on tour!

We go on like this for a few minutes. He tells me about some of the cool places he’s seen in Nashville and giving some tips on where to get the best vintage thrifting done.

I finish my second glass of wine while waiting on his next response to come in. This is surprisingly easy. I thought talking to him would be more difficult but he’s honestly down to earth. It doesn't feel like I'm messaging my crush-to-end-all-crushes. The wine is probably helping a bit too. Might as well start on a third one. I’ll just work from home tomorrow.

It takes Harry a little longer to respond, so I tune back into my friends. Dove is telling an animated story about her dog who my phone chimes again.

“Guys!” I nearly throw my phone across the room when I read the message.

“What’s up?” Dove asks taking in the pure shock written on my face.

I read them the message Harry just sent.

@/Harry_Styles: They have a really cool rooftop bar that you should check out. Let me know when you fly in and I could probably show you if our schedules match up?

“Correct me if I’m wrong but that just sounds like Harry Styles just asked to take me to a rooftop bar next week.”

tag list: @harry-is-my-sunflower @gucci-hazza @sunshinetemptress9 @damnasstyles @msolbesg @hi-yekaterina @imaginesofdreams @multiplums @gxldenxash @infinitely-yellow @hoseokjin194​ @onecrazydirectioner​

[saey707]

Loved the Lux one, thank you very much.

May I ask for another?

Gwen with an SO who makes clothes for her. (I forgot the name of the profession, the people who make clothes and such.)

Like dresses and other outfits, just really enjoys making these gifts for Gwen.

✿ Prompt: You are a tailor and love making Gwen clothes ✿

♡ champion focus: gwen ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author’s Note: Hey again! I’m really happy that you like the last headcanons, they were fun to write ૮꒰⸝⸝>  ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა And super cute idea, I hope you enjoy what I have to offer ( ˘͈  ᵕ  ˘͈ ♡)

Gwen always loved to play dress-up. It would simply be an understatement if someone were to say she was a simple doll. If anything, the hallowed seamstress was regal. Her clothes always looked as if they were made of the finest materials, tailored to her length and form down to the perfect inch. Still, her clothes were snug, with enough space for her to dance around and bend beyond her will!

It was easy for her to glamorize herself in new clothes and fashion looks. She seemed to always pull off any look, no matter how ridiculous and outlandish they may be. Not only that, but she was skilled enough to take old fabric and alter them into new ones with so much as a few snips, a needle, and thread. But can the muse always be the tailor?

While Gwen had beyond the average capabilities to make her own clothes, it was always you who guided her in the right direction when it came down to the design. She was your muse, an apprentice even if you will, and you were her tailor.

She always feels like she learns the most from you, always interested in seeing the next amazing outfit you design.

And every single time she is equally as astounded when you offer a copy of the original to her, perfectly copied and tailored down to the perfect stitch to fit her doll-like figure.

"Oh, it's simply beautiful, my love! It charms me that you would give me this... I don't know any way in which I can repay you for your hard work, but I certainly know I will find a way, yes I will!"

You can be sure Gwen always finds a way to repay you, baking the most delicious desserts and pastries to share with you.

"Are you sure we should be eating this many cupcakes? I'll have to adjust the measurements if we keep doing this, Gwenny..." You query playfully to the delighted soul, entranced by the gentle giggle she released. "Always, love! There is nothing wrong with eating for pleasure~ Just like there is nothing wrong with dancing about, despite everyone watching!"

Her proper voice was like ringing bells in your ears, a cheery and delightful tone that always made your heart fill with passion. To know someone like Gwen, who was always delighted with your expressions of love through clothes... It was beyond anything you could ever expect in such a critical field.

You memorized her measurements by heart, always knowing the exact about of fabric you would need to utilize, the second, smaller bust you curated shrunken down to her measurements.

Of all the clothes you make for her, she is always drawn to your dresses; Every little detail you put into them is taken into account, and Gwen can see it with how focused you become. It's as if you put all your love and attention into each and every dress you design and craft.

And in a way, your doll wishes she had that kind of an attention span... You get work done so quickly!

"Another dress for me, darling?" Shocked, she pulled it up from the box, admiring it before excitedly hugging it close to her. "And it's in your favorite color~" "Hallowed blue!" Gwen finishes, happily laughing and yanking you into her arms to offer a tight hug.

Every single time you watch her spin and dance about in your designs, you can't help but love her more and more. While her movements closely resembled a puppet being pulled around on strings, that just added to all the more reason why you couldn't help but adore her.

"May I have this dance, love~?" She asks, holding her hand out to you, delighted with the bright red hue that floods against your cheeks. "You may, my doll..." You muse. And, spinning her into your hold, you would be sure to lead well in your little dance with her.

[qianinterprises]

Smoke Detector

Pairing: Taeyong x Reader

Warnings: burnt food, tears, self-doubt

Scenario 1) when they (you) mess up cooking dinner for the first time.

Summary: you want to make dinner for Taeyong on your anniversary, but to do so requires help from the fourth best chef in NCT. Unfortunately, that isn't enough to stop disaster.

Genre: fluff, minor angst

Author's Notes: I am participating in the ficscafe scenario event! You may be seeing a few of these pop up as I am super excited to write these scenarios! Also, I apologize if this is kinda sucky. I wrote it in one sitting because I just had SO much inspiration, but there's a very good chance that this isn't very good.

Word Count: 2.6k

Tag List: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon

For as long as you could remember, you'd never learned how to properly put on a meal. Sure, you could make ramen in the microwave or throw together a sandwich, but anything involving more technical skills and you were screwed. For that reason, you never offered to cook for your boyfriend, which admittedly made you feel inadequate, but he was so an amazing chef that admitting your lack of skills was embarrassing to say the least.

Taeyong had no idea you had very little talent in the kitchen. You never told him about the time you nearly burnt down your mother's kitchen trying to make tacos or the time you forgot your scones in the oven until they were black as coal and hard as stones.

Taeyong's cooking skills were perfect. He could whip nothing into the most delectable meal you'd ever tasted. And that was daunting.

He should be with someone who he could partner with. Someone who could share the responsibility of the kitchen because you knew, when Taeyong got home after allday of schedules, the last thing he wanted to do was cook. But he did so anyway (unless you'd convinced him to get takeout). He never complained. Never questioned why you didn't cook for him. Never gave you anything but a happy smile and a soft peck on the lips.

Lee Taeyong was just too perfect. So perfect in fact that today, on the morning of your two year anniversary, he had taken the morning off and instead, bounced around in the kitchen cooking up all your favorite breakfast foods before surprising you in bed with them. He had roused you awake and placed the tray on your lap before crawling back in bed beside you and kissing your lips.

“Happy anniversary my love,” he had whispered against your lips.

The morning had been spent enjoying his well-crafted breakfast with sleepy cuddles and a slow, sensual, naked dance beneath the sheets before he had to peel himself away with a promise that he would be home in time to make dinner.

With that, he had left, and you spent the rest of the afternoon fretting. Taeyong had made breakfast. A breakfast that didn't consist of cheerios or toast. He had taken the time to use his morning to whip up a breakfast fit for a king. And now he was planning on two meals in one day!

Your stomach churned uncomfortably, fear gripping your heart. One day, Lee Taeyong would realize that he was too good for you, and then he’d be gone. Off to find someone better for him. Someone like Doyoung, who he could cook with without supervision. Or maybe even someone like Johnny, bigger than him, that could hold him tight and ease away all of his worries.

You were useless. At least, that’s what your subconsciousness whispered in the back of your head.

~

As two pm rolled around, you were tired of moping. Taeyong deserved someone better. So you would become better. That would just require a little bit (a lot) of help from someone who knew their way around the kitchen.

The first person you contacted was Kun, but when he didn’t respond, Doyoung became the next best thing. Quickly, you sent the male a quick text because you had no idea who Taeyong was scheduled with today.

‘Do you have 127 schedules today?’

Doyoung didn’t take long to text back.

‘Yeah, why?’

Always one to get to the point. But you liked that about Doyoung.

‘Just curious, wasn’t sure who Taeyong was scheduled with today.’

You huffed. The simplest choice went out the window. Had Doyoung been free, you would have invited the male over and had him help you cook a gorgeous dinner. Although part of you was glad you had to go with plan b. Plan b wouldn’t get irritated and yell at you quite as easily as Doyoung would.

‘How’s my favorite Dreamie?’ you sent, hoping Dreams schedules were clear that day because you were running out of options.

‘Jeno’s doing fine? Why?’

‘I’m not talking about Jeno, you nincompoop!’

These boys were going to be the death of you one of these days.

‘Haha, I know, what’s up? What do you need?’

‘Why do you assume I need something?’

‘-.-’

‘Fine. I need your help cooking dinner for Taeyong!’

It took the boy longer to respond and you assumed his answer was no when your phone began to ring. When you answered, he didn’t even give you time for a proper greeting.

“Why do you need my help?” Jaemin asked.

You let out a huff. None of the boys knew your dirty little secret, but you knew Jaemin (or Doyoung for that matter) would help you without an explanation.

“Because I can’t cook to save my life! And he cooks all the time! And I just want our anniversary to be special! Will you help me or not?!”

“How are you dating Taeyong hyung without knowing how to cook?!”

“Jaemin!” you whined, red creeping up to your cheeks.

He let out a breathy laugh.

“I can’t come over. Our managers gave us the next few days off and Renjun and Jeno have barricaded us all in here, but I can help you over the phone!”

Not exactly what you had in mind, but with Jaemin helping you, what could possibly go wrong?

~

Later on that evening after deciding to make something relatively simple for Taeyong, Jaemin helps you create a grocery list and sends you on your way. Grocery shopping was the easy part. You were exceptionally good at shopping. It was when you got back home that your hands began to clam up as you stood in the center of the kitchen, trying to mentally prepare yourself for whatever was about to happen.

Your phone rang in your pocket as you were shakily pulling a pan out, placing it on the stove. You fished out your phone and answered, Jaemin’s face popping onto your screen.

“Ready to get cooking?” he asked, a wide grin spreading across your face.

“I’m nervous,” you mumbled.

“Oh come on! You’ve got me here to guide you! It’ll be great!” you promised.

Hopefully, he was right.

“Ok so the first thing you need to do is heat up the pan over the stove. While that’s heating, start chopping the vegetables. Just be careful!”

Nodding, you turned on the stove. When nothing happened to sabotage you this early in the game, you let out a sigh of relief and set out chopping all of the vegetables that you’d bought, preparing a hearty, healthy, but tasty dish for the man that never ceased to give you everything you desired.

“Ok, now get the meat out of the fridge and put it in the pan.”

Nodding to him, you slid on a pair of rubber gloves and pulled the hamburger meat out of the refrigerator. Ripping open the packaging, you dumped the red meat into the now sizzling frying pan and let out a small sound of joy when you succeeded in not making too big of a mess.

“Great now-” there was a knock over the line and Jaemin’s attention turned from you to the door.

“What?” he asked.

“We’re going out to the sports bar down the road. Wanna come?” Jeno’s voice asked in the background.

Jaemin let out a whine in the back of his throat.

“I promised (y/n) noona that I’d help her make dinner for Taeyong hyung.”

“Sucks to be you!” the door slammed and Jaemin turned back to you looking like a kicked puppy.

Your heart clenched. Not only did you have to elicit Jaemin’s help in the first place, but now you were keeping him from spending time with his friends and having fun.

“Explain to me everything that I need to do and go,” you offered.

His face lit up immediately and he opened his mouth to speak before freezing.

“But I promised…”

“Jaemin, it’s not that big of a deal! I’ve got this,” you said, hoping he couldn’t hear the way your voice wavered at the doubt creeping into your soul.

“Ok so…” and he rattled off instructions, letting you write them down.

“Now are you sure you can do this?” he asked.

You nodded even though you were positive you couldn’t do this.

“Ok! Good luck! And Taeyong hyung is going to love it!”

With that, the call ended and you were left alone with a pan of rapidly browning hamburger meat and a pot of boiling water.

“Ok (y/n), you got this,” you whispered to yourself.

~

You didn’t have this. In no way, shape, or form did you have this!

The meat browned too quickly, and while you were trying to get it off the heat, the pot of water boiled over, sizzling and fizzing on the burner You slightly burned your hand in a rush trying to get the lid off of the pot of noodles, but while you were fighting with it, the smoke alarm went off, blaring loudly through the house. Frantically, you trembled as you tried to quiet down the alarm before you realized why it was going off.

The meat had become a dark brown lump emitting thick black smoke that pillowed toward the ceiling. With a little screech, you grabbed the pan of meat and hurled it into the empty sink, rapidly turning the water on and letting it spill over the now ruined meat as you turned back to turn off the stove. However, before you could, the water was boiling over the sides again.

By the time you got the water in the pot to settle, your hair was a mess atop your head and tears had gathered into your eyes at the mess of a kitchen. Water was still running over the burned black meat. The noodles in the pot had secured themselves to the bottom of the pot, refusing the budge, and the vegetables you’d put in the oven to roast had gotten done while everything else had gone wrong. Now they sat on top of the stove crispy with an aftertaste of coal.

Dinner was ruined. But perhaps you’d still have time to order takeout before-

You heard his keys jiggle in the door and your heart dropped to your stomach. Not only had you not succeeded in making one simple meal, but Taeyong was going to see just how awful you were in the kitchen.

You sank to your knees on the floor, leaning against the cabinets under the sink and drawing your knees to your chest, burying your face in your hands as the tears flowed easily now.

“Honey! I’m ho-”

The first thing Taeyong noticed was the smell. The bitter, burnt scent of burning food making his nose crinkle in distaste.

“Babe?” he asked, stepping further into your shared apartment, closer to the kitchen where the smell was coming from.

When he entered, the sight broke his heart.

You were trembling on sobs below the sink, quiet whimpers leaving your lips that only got worse as he moved closer to you. Water was running over a pan of burnt something in the sink and the pot on the stove was scorched. The vegetables on the over pan looked like shriveled prunes.

Slowly, so as not to make you more upset, Taeyong made his way over to the stove and quickly switched off the two burners and the over, all of which you must have forgotten to turn off.

When the stove was handled, Taeyong took another look around the kitchen. Your phone was sitting on the counter by the stove, a piece of paper with hastily scratched instructions beside it. There was an old sweater hanging over the back of the table chair that you must have used to calm the smoke detector that was now dangling from the ceiling by a single wire. The refrigerator was slightly ajar and making a small dinging noise until he pushed it closed. You were crumpled on the floor in the center of all of the chaos, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.

With a small sigh, Taeyong moved closer to you. He leaned over you to switch off the water pouring onto the burnt pan before lowering himself to the floor and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Baby, did you try to cook for me?” he whispered.

He already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear a response from you. When you only nodded, another whimper leaving your lips, he pulled you into his arms and placed a kiss on your head.

“Why baby? I told you I was going to cook.”

“You cooked breakfast,” you mumbled.

“So?”

By now he was very confused. You never offered to cook. He just assumed you didn’t like to or couldn’t, which seemed to be the case.

“You deserve someone who can cook for you,” you muttered. “You always have to cook and I’m just useless not being able to.”

Taeyong was left speechless for a solid 30 seconds before he was pulling you into his lap, carefully spinning you around to face him.

“You are not useless. Baby, you give me warm hugs and kisses when I get home. You let me be the little spoon some nights when I’m exhausted. You draw baths for me and hold me while I relax. You are anything but useless. You do so much for me that I enjoy cooking for us when I get home. Even when I’m tired I love it. I love seeing your face light up when you taste something you like or watching you bounce in your seat over your favorite foods. I don’t get to take care of you half as much as you take care of me. Let me cook for you baby. I love it,” he said, letting his thumbs gently stroke over your face as he wiped away your tears.

Your glassy eyes looked up to meet his and he was drawing you closer, planting a soft kiss on your water lips.

“I love you baby. And I promise, just because you can’t cook doesn’t make me love you any less,” he said, kissing your forehead.

You nodded and dove into him, letting your head rest against his neck, holding onto him as warmth washed over you.

“I love you too,” you muttered, finally feeling relaxed after hours of stress that came with cooking.

“Who gave you those instructions on the counter? Did they not offer to help you?”

“Jaemin. Kun was busy. Doyoung was with you. I obviously wasn’t about to call you, so Jaemin helped me, but halfway through he had to go.”

Taeyong nodded and peppered kisses along your cheeks.

“How about we get dressed and go to the dinner where we had our first date? Then tomorrow, we’ll spend the whole day together. I might even help you learn how to cook!”

“You have tomorrow off?!”

“Mhm,” Taeyong cooed.

You jumped off his lap excitedly.

“That sounds perfect!” you grinned, dashing off to your shared bedroom to put on something other than sweats.

Laughing, Taeyong stood up and surveyed the kitchen once again.

You had the capabilities of cooking. That much was clear by the seasonings and well-chopped vegetables. Stress and distractions were your issues. And that, he could help you with.

With a smile, he made his way to the bedroom.

It didn't matter if you could cook or not. What mattered was that you were his. And if the ring tucked away in his pocket was any indication, he planned on making you his forever.

[malfoymxnor]

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

➤ pairing: draco malfoy x hufflepuff reader

➤ summary: every year, you bake christmas cookies for your friends. after you seeing a sad draco malfoy sitting alone, you can’t help but give him your last batch despite being enemies.

➤ words: 1.9k

➤ a/n: you don’t have to be in hufflepuff to relate to being y/n, i just wrote it this way! get ready for some major fluff y’all

It was finally the most wonderful time of the year, at least according to you: Christmas. Christmas always symbolized the happiest moments of your life. Your most cherished memories included sitting around the tree back home with your family and watching your family’s faces light up as they open presents. You always tried your best to spread that familiar joy to those around at Hogwarts.

That’s why, for the sixth year in a row, you planned to bake Christmas themed sugar cookies and hand them out to your large group of friends. This task seemed simple enough, and it was for your first couple years at the magical school. However, now your once close knit group of friends had grown tremendously. Now, it was practically a whole night’s work to bake these cookies on time.

That’s what led you to risk breaking Hogwarts’ very clear rules. Ever since the threat of war with You-Know-Who, it was strictly prohibited for any students to be wandering the corridors after dark. Seeing as you had no time after classes and assignments to bake and tomorrow would be the last day before winter break, you had no choice but to break the rules. It may be silly or childish to risk getting in severe trouble just to bake cookies, but disappointing your friends was not an option.

At least you’re a Hufflepuff and your common room was near the kitchens.

Not even 30 minutes after the sunset, you found yourself sneaking into the school’s kitchen and setting on your mission. You left the lights off, whispering “Lumos” and allowing your wand to be your source of light. You set your wand on one of the marble kitchen counters, getting out the bowls and ingredients you would need.

Time seemed to pass in a blur. You made it a point to make as little noise as possible. The last thing you needed after all was Professor Snape to find you in the kitchens. The thought of getting caught sends chills down your spine, nevertheless one of the professors you absolutely feared finding you.

You took out the largest bowl you could find in the cupboards and rolled up your yellow and black robe before beginning to work. This was a (Y/L/N)’s family recipe and didn’t need a written record of the recipe, it’s one you have been making with your parents since practically birth. You combined the flour, baking powder, and salt in the bowl, your thoughts practically running a mile a second as you worked.

You were aware that if this was any other witch or wizard baking, they would simply use magic. Maybe that was the smartest way to do this, especially with the need to get out of the kitchen as soon as possible to avoid punishment. The thought did cross your mind, but what was the fun in it? You adored magic in every way, but you also carried love in doing things the Muggle way sometimes. There was something so simple in baking a dessert from your own hands. It was perhaps like a potions class, except without Professor Snape sneering over your shoulder and telling you every mistake you’re making.

Next, you used a whisk to beat together some butter and sugar, eventually adding eggs and vanilla extract after the mixture was completely smooth. You added the dry ingredients to the wet, smiling to yourself as the dough formed into the exact consistency you needed for some tasty cookies.

You rolled the dough enough so it was a thin sheet that laid out in front of you, before cutting it with various shapes of cookie cutters. Your friends were definitely being spoiled this year, not that you minded, one of the greatest joys was surprising your friends with small gifts. In the end, there were sheets full of cookies shaped in trees, snowmen, gingerbread houses, presents. You even managed to find a cookie cutter in the shape of a mug filled with Butterbeer from Hogsmeade.

While you baked the cookies and prepared the icing, you couldn’t stop your thoughts from wondering yet again. You made a mental list of all the friends you would need to be sure to see before the day ends. There was the Golden Trio, Ginny, Luna, several friends from Hufflepuff.

One person you were so sure that was not getting cookies was the one and only Draco Malfoy. You truly did not hate a single soul, but you held a distaste for the young man. You weren’t sure why, but ever since Year 1, he has set it out to make it a nightmare for the entire Hufflepuff house. He often called your house an embarrassment to Hogwarts, the weakest house by far. How a person could be filled with so much hate shocked you.

A soft ding pulled your thoughts away from the platinum blond, signaling that they were done and needed to be pulled out of the multiple ovens Hogwarts had provided. You let them cool to the side while you began to work on the frosting. Your mind couldn’t help but focus on Malfoy, for whatever reason. A part of you strongly disliked him, but a part of you have always wondered why he acts the way he does. You’re aware his family is one of the most powerful magic families in the world, but that doesn’t make him better than you or any of your friends. So, what reason could he think of to justify his behavior?

Time seemed to blur after the cookies had cooled down enough for you to decorate them. Ever since you were a child, this was always your favorite part of the process. You had the chance to be creative with how you designed the cookie. It truly brought the cookie to life, it seemed. Your years of decorating experience has allowed you to really master the craft, creating unique designs that only a professional baker may be able to pull off.

At the end of the process, you had multiple dozens of bags filled with cookies of all shapes and sizes, labeled neatly with the recipient’s name printed on them. You filled a wooden basket with the bags, finally allowing yourself to breathe. It was a close call, but you managed to bake the cookies before dawn. You ended the night with flour covered hands, but you hardly minded. You took a moment to look at the time on a clock near the oven and a soft gasp escaped your lips.

Was it really 7:45 in the morning? You had Potions at 8, which was halfway across the castle. If you had any hope of getting there on time, you had to leave now.

With a quick flick of your wand, you set the kitchen in order. It looked as if no one was in there the entire time. You rushed out of the kitchens towards the main corridor, down the steps towards the potions classroom.

The day seemed to pass in a blur as well. Perhaps it was because it was the last day before winter break, but it seemed as if you blinked and you were already at dinner with your friends. You decided today to sit with Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. It wasn’t unusual for you to do so, however, most of the time you sat at the Hufflepuff table. The only reason you tended to avoid the Gryffindor table like the plague was because it was right next to the Slytherin table. You refused to let Malfoy ruin Christmas for you.

You handed bags out to the three friends in front of you, laughing to yourself as Ron abandoned his chicken leg to practically tear up the delicate cookie bag. Harry thanked you for the desserts and stored them in his pockets, while Hermione complimented you on the fascinating designs you made with the frosting.

As you talked to Hermione, you felt a pair of eyes on you, although you couldn’t pinpoint where from. Your eyes broke from Hermione’s and glanced around the room, until they landed on a boy sitting at the Slytherin table.

You immediately recognized him as Draco Malfoy due to the infamous hair color. He sat in his black and emerald school robes, his eyes wondering about the room as he sat alone. It was quite a strange sight, he was the leader of his usual friend group in fact. However, today, it was as if that friend group disappeared in front of his very eyes. He sat with his cheek leaning against his pale hand, sadness apparent in his icy gray eyes. Once he realized he had been caught staring, his eyes darted back to his lap, where he had to pretend to read one of the many books in the library.

Perhaps it was the Hufflepuff in you, but you felt immediate sympathy for him. You hardly consider him an acquaintance, let alone a friend, but it was hard for you to watch someone in despair and not do something to cheer them up. Without even thinking about how this would look or any of the backlash you may face with your friends, you took the last batch of cookies you made just for yourself and made your way to the Slytherin table.

Seating yourself right across from the Slytherin Prince, you slid the bag of cookies across the table to him. His eyes rose to yours as he realized he was no longer alone.

“Draco.” You said softly, biting your lip. Being around someone this infamous tended to make you nervous, much more than you thought. You eventually managed to bring yourself to make eye contact. You could have melted into those eyes and you would not have known.

He raised his eyebrow, a bit confused as to why you were sitting in front of him with cookies on the table. “Y/N?” was all he could manage to spit out.

“I, uhm..” You shook your head slightly, trying to steady your heartbeat and remain focus on the mission. “I was sitting with my friends and noticed you were alone. Every year I make cookies for my friends, I had an extra bag and thought maybe it could cheer you up.”

For a moment, Draco forgot any sense of despair he had about becoming a Death Eater due to the pressure of his family, and the mission he had been charged with. It was a stupid bag of Christmas cookies, but it may have been the kindest thing anyone could have done for him. He felt himself sitting up straighter, a small smirk coming to his face. He felt as if he could trust the stranger in front of him, for whatever reason.

“Thank you.” He looked up at you once again, before tearing a corner from the page in his book and pulling out a quill. He wrote down a couple lines and folded it up, handing it to you. “I’ve never received a gift that came with no cost to me. Please, look at this when you have the chance, alright?”

You took the paper and nodded, not sure what to do with the feelings coming over you. Before you could say anything more, Draco stood from his seat and gathered his things. He took a bite from a snowman shaped cookie and with a smile on his face, nodded to you and walked away.

Unfolding the paper in your hands, it read:

The Malfoy Manor 

Wiltshire, England

Write to me this break. I’m intrigued.

Malfoy

[secondhand-trash]

Heart Knot

A/N: this is in honor of the whole 30 minutes in which I knew how to knit because I was bored at a school function and forced my friend who brought an unfinished scarf with her to teach me lmao

Description: You did not have much happy memories regarding both knitting and your past crushes, but the boy that had your heart now just so happened to be a great knitter. 

Pairing: Kita Shinsuke x reader

Word count: 7827

Playlist:

Permanence//Bears In Trees

The Way You Look Tonight//Frank Sinatra

Hiding Tonight//Alex Turner

-

Kita Shinsuke’s first exposure to the art of knitting was through his grandmother, who taught her grandson the ways you could weave anything into something from doing each repetitive action properly and with care.

Something beautiful, something soft, something that could bring warmth to someone else on a harsh winter morning.

Winter in Hyogo could be rough, with inches and inches of snow blocking the road from down the mountains and into the towns. Kita Shinsuke spent his winter days away from school still waking up at the first ray of sunshine beaming through the paper window, his body glued down on the sweet comfort of his futon but still, he never overslept even as other kids his age would protest just for a few extra seconds in the warmth. 

By the time he was done with the daily chores, it would already be way into the afternoon and his tiny hands, soaked in water to wet the towels, would be shaking under the cold. Grandma Yumie always brought out the kotatsu in times like this. “It is a luxury,” she said with a chuckle as her grandson watched in awe at how the tiny round table in the living room had now been transformed into a warm cave, shielding the winter cold out with the blanket draping down the sides, “a reward for those who worked hard in the cold.”

The days he spent with his grandmother was some of his fondest memories, to the point where years later, even as he was old enough to have his own house with paper windows and a round table perfect for being turned into a kotatsu, he still insisted that there weren’t any feeling better than laying under the warm blankets after a hard day at work with the tv playing and a cup of warm tea in his hand.

When he was small, very small, with his fingers still a bit clumsy and not quite able to aim at the little loops held together by the yarn, Kita would sit there and watched as grandma Yumie brought out the baskets and baskets of colourful yarn, all sorts of sizes and patterns, and let him pick which one she should use that day. The afternoon news was playing in the background, and baby Kita had his palms holding on the warm mug of tea that was far more diluted and with way more honey drizzled into it than the one sitting in front of the older woman. His golden eyes all round and focused on the needles going in and out of the woolen piece that grew longer and longer with each flick of her wrist.

He could not figure out what had happened in the quiet hours where he just stared, not yet worked out the way each loop and thread came together in holding everything together, but all he knew was that the scarfs grandma gave him were always the softest and warmest, and comes in all the colours that lighted up the roads of Hyogo that were covered in white.

Kita learnt how to knit when he was old enough to remember the sequence at which the needle thread through the yarn. One hook under the open loop, the other holding it still, before pulling it out and putting the neat knot in place. He started with the thickest needle and the yarn that showed every knot and pattern clearly, before slowly moving to thinner threads and fancier ways of knitting. Now, winter afternoon at the Kita household consisted of grandmother and grandson sitting side by side around the kotatsu, the afternoon programs playing softly at the background as the sounds of yarns brushing against each thread filled the air.

There had never been a single cast out of place in whatever he made, whether it be a scarf or a pair of socks or a little hat for the puppy next doors. Because knitting was about patience, the knowing that you just had to keep repeating and repeating to make sure everything holds together, until you eventually had something good in your hands. It was feeling the tiny bumps under your finger once you had the finished product laid out in front of you, knowing that you put time and care into every single one of them.

Grandma Yumie complimented her grandson on everything he had ever made, smiling until her eyes were just two thin curves as she watched the boy who wasn’t so tiny anymore with his golden eyes fixed on the needle going in and out of each loop, the knitted fabric growing longer with each flick of his wrist.

-

You could not knit to save a life.

But you had tried, you really did. 

Once, when you were 12 and sitting in art class, your eyes beaming at the many balls of yarn your teacher had brought in.

“Today, we’re going to learn how to knit!” The teacher, with pins all over her apron and a book of stickers for the kids who did well poking out of its pocket, said as she placed the plastic box on the table, “By the end of class, you can all bring home something you made to give to your parents!”

You liked art class. It was fun being able to play around with crafts supplies under the disguise of early creativity development, and the things you brought home were always somewhere around the house.

You liked the way you could walk past something you had made and know that it was good enough to be put up, and liked the feeling of showing people the things you were proud of.

You picked out your colours carefully, imaging the way your father would have fitted a dark brown scarf into his work clothes or how mom could have used something in that lovely cream coloured yarn that was ignored by the other kids who went straight for the blues and yellows. You ended up with balls of grey in your arms as you made way back to your seat, thinking that it would go well with, well, everything.

You did not quite remember how you felt about the knitting process itself, all you knew was the excitement budding up in your chest as you just kept repeating and repeating, until the grey bundle of yarn got smaller and smaller.

You knew you could make something they would like, you just knew it.

The outcome of the hour and a half where you did nothing but fidget with yarn and needle was a subtly misformed scarf, a bit crooked at the edges because you forgot how to tie up the piece by the time it was long enough to be thrown around your shoulders and back. It wasn’t exactly the most intricate piece of knitwear, with small ends of the thick thread clumsily tugged back within the grids and some places missing a loop or two. 

But still, it held together nicely with the softest texture, and you were proud of yourself.

Your parents took the gift graciously when you presented it to them like you were handing them something of the uttermost value, complimenting you on your hard work and thought as they felt the piece in their hand. You made your father promised to wear it out the next day and he complied with a grin as he threw the scarf around his neck.

Now that you looked back on it, it was definitely not something a proper adult would prefer to be seen in in the public since it was rather... wonky, to put it lightly.

But you were small, and you did not have any idea that even though you tried what you thought was your best, sometimes your best was just not enough.

Oh, the way you froze when your father handed the pile of loose yarn to you that was all bundled up with a worried stare, your throat tight while you used all the might in you to suppress the urge to let the tears just fall.

You soon learned that loose ends and hasty stitches meant that even the slightest tug would make the whole thing crumble, and hours of your dedication was not a match to even the most accidental pull at the widened hole where you tried to hide all the mistakes you made.

You told yourself you were never knitting ever again at age 11, with your face buried in your pillow at the late nights when you didn’t have to fear letting anyone know that you were crying over a few balls of yarn.

At age 15, you had your first real, serious crush, the kind that made the pitch of your voice go higher unconsciously and the corner of your lips tug up just at a passing thought. Your crush was popular, the type of boys that spoke each word loud and clear like they had endless energy. You thought he was dazzlingly good-looking, even though he still had a bit of the awkwardness of being mid-puberty left in the soft arc of his brows and loop-sided grin. He was the captain of the football team, always the first to dash out the classroom with a dusty ball in his arms during break. You spent a good amount of your recesses just looking out of the window with your elbows propping you up against the frame, pretending to listen to whatever your friends were saying when you were looking at him instead.

Occasionally, he would look up from the field as he jogged backwards, and your heart always skipped a bit at the possibility that maybe his gaze had stopped at you for even just a second.

Holiday season rolled around the corner as you looked out one morning to see dots of white landing on the glass, each speckle of the snowflake clearly visible as it plastered on the window, the one you always pretend to not be looking too longingly out of while doing exactly just that. The nearer your last day of school before winter break was, the more you felt the knot twisting and turning in your stomach at the thought of whether you should try and disguise all that feeling into what could be as simple as a normal holiday greeting, between normal classmates.

It was at a passing that you overheard your crush telling the group of people who were crowding around his table during one lunch break that he thought it was attractive when people hand out handmade gifts, earning a round of high-pitched responses from those who were smiling a bit too widely for it to be natural around him, each one of them claiming that then they would try to make something for him.

You shifted in your seat, pretending that you were just napping on your desk casually instead of pitifully eavesdropping on a conversation you both wished you were part of and was absolutely detested by.

You had long decided that you could not even pretend that you were crafty by any means, but sadly, you were also young and very much so head-over-heels in love with a boy who just announced to everyone who was, like you, trying hard to impress him that he basically preferred people who make their own presents.

So that was how you found your way back to the knitting needle that you had not touched since 4 years ago, after how every single trashy article in every single teen magazine that you, at age 15, read an unhealthy amount of, told you that there was no better present to give that would portray the amount of thought and care you were willing to put into something like a garment that was hand knitted with only the receiver in thought.

It should be quite clear that the editors of those articles were just too lazy to come up with something new and picked the safest, most conventional option to put in there, but you were too desperate to find something you too could do that you didn’t care.

You left school each day in complete darkness now that the sun was long gone in the middle of the day as the end of the year approached, and spent the little free time you had to yourself at home struggling to knit. Your hands were a lot more in control compared to the last time you knitted, but the lack of guidance in every step of the way as you relearnt how to knit all from the very beginning.

It was cold, and your fingers were already hurting from the chill, but it did not stop you from staying up each night trying to get the piece done before it was finally the holidays.

You had spent hours looking for tutorials only, always battling between the knowledge that your skill was not enough to replicate a good half of the videos you had bookmarked and thinking that the easy ones were too basic for you to gift to someone. You settled on a neck warmer, something you could imagine the boy you so pined after wearing while running on the court. And as you held the finished piece up under the light, you were proud of yourself for actually carrying through.

There were no messy threads in the scarf this time, and you were sure this was something that could at least be of use to whoever got it.

The day when you were supposed to gather the courage to hand out the present came sooner than you were ready for. You came back to school early that day, knowing that your crush was usually having morning practice at the hour and no one else would be around. 

To your surprise, there was already another neatly wrapped box inside of his desk drawer by the time you got back. Its tag was hanging out of the tray rather deliberately, like a sly wink and a wave. Your chest tightened that someone was already one step ahead of you, but quickly fed yourself the narrative that it was actually better this way. This way, your gift would not stand out and seemed like it did not belong there. 

It was just a scarf, but the little paper bag that you spent an embarrassingly long amount of time decorating the night before felt so heavy in your hands as you stared blankly at it, the nerves settling in your stomach as your throat tightened at the last minute conflict.

The loud footsteps that neared broke you out of your trance, and you threw the gift bag into your drawer before pretending like you were doing something else. You cursed inwardly when you saw that it was the last person you wished to see at this moment, a rare sentiment given how your eyes usually search for him in a crowd.

The group of boys didn’t seem to pay you much mind as they huffed, laughing at something you did not catch on to as they threw their bags down. You masked the pounding of your chest with a violent stroke of your highlighter against the notebook that opened up hastily in front of you when you heard them going near the table you had been eyeing all morning.

“Huh? What is this?” 

You buried your nose in your book, but glanced at the few boys gathering around the desk from the corner of your eyes. 

Your heart wrenched when you heard one of the boys snorted, before shoving the box into your crush’s chest. “It’s for you.”

The sharp tear made your scalp tingle, but you fought back the urge to sit up straighter in reflex.

Couldn’t let them know you were listening, couldn’t let them know you cared.

“Ah... it’s a scarf,” even in your most delusional mind, there was no way you could ignore the slight hint of annoyance at his voice. 

“Hm, they said they made it themselves.”

The density of the air around you was a stark comparison to the boys’ howling and laughing that followed. The recipient of the gift only shoved the garment into the box roughly before plopping the lid back on.

“So?” one of his friends asked, snickering, “what are you going to do about it?”

The click of his tongue that followed twisted around your throat until all the blood rushed up to your face, burning and suffocating you. “Do you want it?”

“Hell no, why would I want a re-gift?” The other boy yelled with a holler, “why don’t you just keep it yourself  

“Well, I can’t wear it, can I? It’s gonna give them the wrong idea.” The nonchalant way he so easily brushed off the undoubted hours and hours of effort whoever made the gift must have dedicated to the present that was now pushed to the very back of his drawer felt foreign to you. A pang of bitterness welled up in your mouth, running your tongue dry as your mind go blank. 

“Besides, don’t you think getting something handknitted from someone you aren’t with is a bit too suffocating?”

The gift bag in your drawer remained to stay right where it was when other people started rushing into the room, when the class bell rang, when the same boy who you now realised wasn’t as nice as you thought he might be rushed out with the same smile he had on when he came in that morning. 

You shoved it into your bag first thing when you were getting ready to leave, hoping that no one would catch on.

You were surprisingly serene when you tore into hours and hours of effort until it was just a bundle of yarn on the floor.

You were age 15, swearing that you were never doing crushes ever again and finally decided with determination that knitting was just not for you

-

But life has its ways of making you think twice about every promise you had made to yourself.

First in the form of a snowfall you had not expected, and then with a boy who was always prepared for the cold.

Waking up early in the mornings just to tread yourself through the chilly streets sucked, but having to rush out because the initial “5 minutes more” you told yourself as you pulled the futon over your head once more turned into you having to rush out the door with your coat barely even worn properly in the matter of a flutter of your eyes. 

Your mouth was dry and your stomach empty from skipping past the breakfast that had already gone cold on the table by the time you passed it by. It wasn’t until you felt the pain tearing at your skin from the few bits of your body exposed to the specks of snow flowing down onto the back of your hand, so cold that it felt almost like a burn when the feeling settled, that you remembered the mittens you had also left at the side of your dresser. 

Great, just wonderful.

Winter in Hyogo was forgiving on some days, brutal and mocking on the others. The grey clouds were thick and gloomy as you dashed down the road, pulling the collar of your jacket up desperately to shield your face from the wind that you were up against face first, slicing down like blades before you finally made the last turn into the comforting walls of your school building. Your face felt numb of any senses even as you brought your palm up to try and give it some warmth, only to hiss into your hand when the frosted tips of your fingers brushed against your skin.

The bell rang almost right on cue as you stepped into the classroom, letting out a sigh and salvaging in the temporary supply of warmth from your own breath. Your lips were so dry and so chapped from the cold, even just darting your tongue out to swipe over the rough edges had it almost tearing at the thin skin. You winced at the pain, which did not serve you anything other than making the ache worse.

You sighed as you sunk down on your chair, finally able to let your limbs go slack at your sides after being so tense all the way through your walk. The sudden release of the tension you had been holding on you resulted in a broken inhale as you tried to calm the beating dee under the many layers you were wearing, feeling as if you were suffocated in your core with the heat trapped in and only within the center of your body.

“Are you alright?”

Turning to your side was a struggle as you shrugged off the stiff coat you were wearing. You were sure you looked nothing short of ridiculous as the puffer jacket hung loosely around your arms, your arms extended awkwardly to hold it from sliding off the ground. Your state of being was a stark contrast to the boy who was sitting next to you, his back all straight and proper. 

You did not really think much about Kita Shinsuke, even though he had been sitting next to you for almost half a year now. There was something distant about him, like he was in a whole world of his own while everyone else just circulated around. He was always polite, never slipped up, getting back earlier than most and arrived at each function punctually. Your image of him was that he was always paying attention in class while everyone else was drooling off, his voice loud but calm when he was suddenly called to read out whatever passage you were supposed to have read at home but obviously didn’t.

It was strange, you were almost distancing yourself from him despite physically being next to him at all times.

He just didn’t seem so real, didn’t feel very human to you.

“Are you alright?” Kita asked again, this time tilting his head a little seeing that you were looking ahead blankly instead of responding.

You snapped out of your trance, quickly yanking off your jacket to place it on your lap in what you hoped was a swift motion to save the embarrassment of acting like a socially numb idiot.

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled, shoving your hands under your coat to try and warm up the fingers you still couldn’t feel under the fleece, “thank you for asking.” You added, almost like a second thought as you grew more and more uneased by his seemingly doubtful gaze.

Kita’s eyes went to your hair that was still not yet tidied up from being tangled up by the wind, the dots of water on your coat that was no doubt left from the snow, and your hands that were now rubbing together again and again under the coat according to his guess.

His brows furrowed at the way you were folding yourself smaller and smaller, pulling the heavy jacket that was about to slip off your lap up against your body desperately.

There was a rush of shiver to your spine at the way he pursed his lips together, and you gulped as subtly as you could while trying to maintain the smile on your face. 

There was a speckle, a tiny bud of warmth setting off in your stomach when he turned around and slipped his hands into his jacket, hung neatly at the back of his chair unlike yours, and took out a small packet. It was a white fabric pocket but you could see the black powder inside from the thin fabric. 

You did not react when he held his hand out, slender fingers holding on the hand warmer mid-air as he waited for you to take it from him. You blinked at the boy who you had never really looked at properly until now, and felt a strange twist in your stomach at the notice that there was a slight flush on his face from the cold, dusting over his cheeks and leading your gaze to his eyes that were looking at you patiently.

He must have thought that you were so strange, you grimaced to yourself when the pang of guilt rushed to your face and burning to the tip of your ears at the remembrance that you had assumed him to be the strange one when you were being so disrespectful right now.

You held out both hands in front of him, looking like a child when he dropped the little bag in your hand. Nothing could stop the sigh from slipping out of your lips when you felt the heat it was emitting, landing on your fingertips like coal in the snow and seeping into your skin.

The warmth travelled from your skin down to your veins, running slowly and slowly until it settled down as a fuzzy tingle in your chest at the thought that it was so warm because he had been the one keeping it in his pocket, likely trapping the heat within his palms when he was holding the warmer himself.

“Thank you Kita kun...” you said appreciatively, swallowing the whine that was threatening to come out with the last note of your voice when you felt your senses slowly returning to you.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, and your heart skipped a beat when he leaned his chin on his palm and gave you a tiny smile, “you should keep it, my hands don’t get cold that easily and I brought mittens.”

You did not speak to him again that day as class started and he, like the good student you never were, put his attention back to things that were more worthwhile. But you could not help but listen carefully for the first time ever when he was once again called to read out the lengthy piece of literature you didn’t study, and feeling a burst of exciting, nerve-wracking warmth budding in your chest.

-

At age 15, you promised yourself you were not doing crushes over dumb teenage boys again. At age 17, you realised that the pang in your chest when Kita Shinsuke replied to your greeting each morning (one that you tried hard to make it sound as casual as one could get, if you may add) with a smile was the same as that when you imagined your old crushed looking up from the ball court to lock gazes with you. 

But Kita was not a dumb teenage boy, he was nice and well-mannered and asked you if you were alright on a winter day. So you told yourself you did not exactly break your promise, even though there was a lingering fear at the knowing that there too was a time when you thought the boy who sneered at the carefully wrapped box on his desk was nice and beaming like the sun.

(You had, however, screamed into your pillow in frustration the day he told you they made him the captain of the volleyball team for the next year when you carefully suggested that he seemed happier than usual. “Captains,” you groaned into your make-shift punching bag, “why are they always captains?”)

Winter passed, and then it was spring. Spring was the time for a new start, but you were not excited about changes. You had been content with a simple “good morning” every day made possible by the convenience of your adjacent tables, but how were you supposed to conceal your yearning for a smile and a nonchalant word of care as nothing out of place if you had to go out your way just to even catch a glimpse at him?　

You had to force yourself, clamp your lips tight together to stop the pitiful squeal that was close to bursting out from the back of your throat when you saw the familiar kanji, the same one as the direction always pointing people forward and the brightest star hanging on the sky, at the “ki” column of the class list. 

Your third and last year and still in the same class, this was a sign, this had got to be a sign.

The anticipation was hard to conceal as you paced down the hallway until stopping at the sign of “3-7″ above the door. The embarrassment immediately followed the initial rush of glee at the boy who was, as expected already there. He was sitting at the first seat at the row leaning by the wall and even though your heart died a little at the conflict that you could not slack in class with the whoever it was standing in front of the blackboard so close to you, you still walked closer to the table right behind his with carefully controlled steps.

“Good morning Kita kun,” you said, still fumbling to find a balanced tone between letting him know you were happy to see him but not too much, glad that you were in the same class but not in a creepy way, hoping that he also searched for your name the way you looked for his but not holding out too much for it.

your throat tightened when he smiled back at you, “Good morning, (y/l/n) san.”

“You are early,” you blurted out, praying that it wasn’t too sudden.

“Yes, I had to stop by the club room to prepare for the upcoming tryouts before coming back.” He had turned around to face you completely, and you searched for everything your brain could come up with to keep the conversation going.

“Oh right, you are the captain now,” you cursed yourself for stating something so obvious in your brain, absolutely loathing air-headed your own voice sounded in your head. You breathed in, mastering your courage to appear confident and charming, “I hope it’s alright if I sit here behind you?”

You were smiling, but your knuckles were hurting from how hard you had to grip at the handle of your bag just to hold yourself back from fidgeting. The chair was already half pulled-out, and you crouched down just slightly as you waited for a response.

You knew you were the one who asked, but what if he said no?

But he didn’t, and not even the fear of appearing like a fool in front of the boy you so wanted to impress could stop you from grinning ear to ear when he laughed. You didn’t think you had heard Kita laugh before. It was an addicting sound, crisp like bells and like the pink petals that were falling off the trees all around campus. 

You knew at that moment you didn’t care if this crush was just as dumb as the last one, or that you might end up looking like a fool for going against what you had so sternly told yourself when you were 15.

Screw 15 year old you, they knew nothing.

“Of course.”

-

Then winter rolled by the corner, as an angry current sweeping the dried leaves off the road and the temperature dropping and dropping until you were taking out your heavy coat from the back of your closet again.

It was with great regret and exasperation that you found out, one year after starting to learn more about Kita Shinsuke, that he was brilliant and absolutely so passionate about knitting.

The way you had a whole storm brewing in your head over something as simple as getting back to your classroom after lunch break to see a very calm, serene Kita at his table, with a ball of yarn on his lap and two needles threading with each other in his hand, was an absolute joke. You had tried to form an interest in volleyball just to have more chances to talk to him, going as far as to sit through the hour long practices matches that Inarizaki always had with other schools at the far back corner of the gym just to have something to bring up in a passing the next day. But of all the things, of all the things this person who seemed to be good at everything liked, it has got to be the one thing that you associated with nothing but bad memories.

“What are you making?” you asked, holding back the screaming thoughts in your head as you slid down into your own seat and leaned forward.

The little glimmer of joy in his eyes was hard to miss, and you were not sure if you want to feel triumphant for finding a new excuse to talk to him or cry because you had not looked at a knitting needle in years.

“I’m knitting socks,” he said and held up the tunnel of knitted fabric dangling off his needles, “it’s almost Christmas, and I wanted to make something practical for my teammates.” 

“Hm?” You nodded, urging him to go on as if your own scalp was not frying from the recoil of what happened the last few times you wanted to make something practical for someone.

“This is for Akagi from class 6,” he immediately added, thinking about how you might not know who Akagi from class 6 was, “he had been complaining about having cold feet at morning practices lately.”

(You did, in fact, know who Akagi from class 6 was, but decided to let him give you the information instead of exposing how much attention you paid to the Inarizaki Volleyball Club.)

Man, you had never wished you knew how to knit as much you do now.

“Can you teach me how to knit?”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-

You froze at the words that went straight through your brain to your mouth and vocalised in the quiet classroom. 

“There’s something I want to make,” you gulped, stumbling to force a smile onto your face, “for someone.”

Someone as in, well, him.

You had already braced yourself to chuckle it off when he said that he was busy, or just some sort of well-intended reasoning that would all point to the immediate  conclusion in your head that you were just overstepping boundaries as no one but another classmate who just happened to sit near him for the past year.

But the screaming in your head stopped, leaving your world in absolute silence when he placed the ball of yarn onto his table and pulled another ball out from his bag.

“Sure.”

-

You did not notice, which was strange because you were usually the first to overthink on each of his miniatures, that Kita Shinsuke nearly dropped the needles in his hand when you quickly, in the middle of your inner panicking, suggested that there was someone you wanted to knit for.

He wavered for a brief moment, wondering if he really wanted to teach you how to knit for someone else, before feeling a sour guilt that he was being a bad friend by hesitating to help you when you asked.

He wondered who it was that you wanted to make something for, he thought to himself as he handed you the spare pair of needles he had.

Must be someone important to you.

-

So every day until you eventually go on break for Christmas and the new years, you would go back to your classroom early during lunch period to learn how to knit from Kita Shinsuke, who was coincidentally who the eventually finished piece that you hope you would finish was meant for.

You went into this with no thought other than to suck up on your own impulsiveness and just milked what had become of it as much as you could, trying to fish the opportunity of spending extra time with him. You were not even sure if you would actually give him the finished piece if there would be any, you were not sure if you were prepared to go down the progress of determination turned hesitation turned eventual heartbreak that last time you had to muster up any courage just to gift something to another person.

Even though this was all an excuse for you to talk to Kita, there was no denying that the 3 years in which you avoided knitting only made your hands even clumsier than before. He was always patient, always stopping his hands with whatever sock or hat or glove he was making to take a look at what would hopefully become an intact piece of knitwork dangling off of your needles.

“Let me see.”

The soft hum from his nasal every time you called for his assistant was enough to have you weak, and you were so glad that he put all his focus on helping you because then he wouldn’t notice you staring at him rather shamelessly.

On days when the weather was good, it was as if his eyes were the winter sun, the same one that was spilling in through the windows and casting a soft halo around him, all while his brows contorted in concentration over your work.

It turned out that Kita Shinsuke was great at teaching, and while much slower than him, you eventually managed to sit in comfort silent with him in the tender winter afternoons of Hyogo and let the sounds of thread pulling filled the air. You were trying but he was a natural, even though he claimed that it was just a direct result from years, a decade of practicing.

In the time you had struggled to focus on one piece, you had seen Kita worked on a multitude of things you were sure you should not even attempt to make. There was a nice thick pair of gloves for Ojiro, the trusty spiker who was feeling bothered by his dry hands from cold water. Another pair of gloves but this time fingerless because, to quote Kita, Suna Rintarou probably wouldn’t wear anything that kept him away from his lovely touch screen. You saw woollen hats twice but in different colours, and he had explained that he thought of making something different for the ruckus twin boys but figured they would just get into yet another fight over who gets what.

Crush aside, you wished you had a slither of his skills.

“I think anyone can be good at knitting,” he said, handing you back the row of maroon casts you had asked him to check up on with an approving nod. His fingertips just barely brushed against yours as he let go of the needles, sending shivers up your forearm that you were so glad was covered by your cardigan.

You laughed, brushing your finger at the few spots that you struggled to get right on the pattern, “I doubt.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” he said, pointing towards the casts that got neater and neater as you progressed visibly, “you are already getting better.”

You pursed your lips, toying with the unfinished hem.

You had learnt a long time ago that sometimes you tried your best, but the best was not always enough. Sometimes, the best would get you a huff and a complaint that your heart and soul was too heavy, too suffocating. Sometimes the more and more you put into something meant that you did not know where to put it anymore once you tore it apart after no longer having someone to give it too, but it was too much to shove back into the hole in your heart.

You wondered if your best or your “better” was enough this time.

“Kita kun.”

“Hm?” he hummed, like how he always did when you look up at him from your hands. But you did not look at him this time, twirling the loose end of the yarn in your index finger instead.

“Do you think getting something handknitted from someone you aren’t with is suffocating?”

Kita frowned at the sad smile that was on your lips. You were looking at what he assumed would be a scarf from the casting and the patterns, rubbing at the slightly crooked cable. Were you thinking of the person you want to give it to? Were you worried that they wouldn’t like it? He had made himself stop speculating who it was that made you get back early each day and struggle so clearly with something you didn’t seem to exactly enjoy just to make something thoughtful for them, but he couldn’t stop the bitterness from welling up that it was someone who made you worry over them finding you suffocating.

He wanted to tell you that anyone who thought so was not someone who deserved your time, but swallowed it down anyways.

“No,” he said, and you finally looked up at him, “I think it is rude to think that of someone who put effort into doing anything with me in mind.”

And there it was again, the same warmth that tingled until it was all you could feel. Like a hand warmer, like a simple hello in the mornings, like the winter sun that was shining on you.

Right.

You smiled, a genuine one this time.

Because Kita Shinsuke was not just some dumb crush, because he wasn’t like the boy who never really did look up to see you, because you were ok with breaking every single promise you had made to shield yourself off just for a chance with him.

He seemed confused at your sudden change of mood, but you only shook your head and picked up the knitting needles again.

“You’re right.”

-

To say that everyone was hyped for winter break was an understatement.

But you, you were just really nervous.

You greeted Kita when you came back in the morning as usual, feeling the nerve bundling up in your stomach already just from knowing that if this went badly, you could not bear it to pretend to still be his friend from then on. Classes did not pique your interest in the slightest, and the only time you even diverted your gaze upwards from the book you were staring at blankly was when Kita’s voice rang in the classroom, blocking the blackboard from your view as he stood up to answer some question you did not know the answer to.

He looked warm, you remarked to yourself as your eyes scanned through the grey vest he was wearing.

Did he make it himself? Maybe you should ask him for a tutorial later.

And then you remembered that it was the last day before break, and your knitting sessions with him was already over. Your scarf was finished, he even complimented you on it. (“I’m sure whoever got this will be very pleased,” he had said, and you were just praying to whatever entity you could think of that he would still think so when you give it to him) It wouldn’t make sense for you to go to him anymore, and it would be awkward for both of you if he knew that you were only learning how to knit to be around him.

Your hands were so cold, nearly in pain as you grip on the box that you had been hiding in your bag all day long. You backed out of giving it to him during lunch when no one else was around, deciding that you would rather not stare at his back for another few hours after basically exposing yourself. But the day was about to come to an end. The winter sun was always gone early, and the sky was lit up in shades of orange and red as students rushed home for the start of their break.

You sucked in a deep breath when you saw him packing up his things after the end-of-class bell rang.

“Kita kun?”

“Yes?”

All you could hear was the beating in your ears and the hilt of what was a steady rhythm when he turned to look at you. His voice still made you melt, and heat spread on your face like the fiery cloud hanging on the sky from the setting sun.

Warm, bright, beautiful.

“This is for you,” you tried to stop your voice from shaking as you looked into his eyes, the same ones that widened when he saw the box on your extended hands, “thank you for helping me all through last year.”

You had to remind yourself to breath as Kita took the wrapped present. “Can I open it?” he asked, his hand hovering above the ribbon.

You tried to maintain the smile on your face.

“Of course.”

Kita knew the scarf that was sitting inside the box, he could point out which cast was his doing and which ones you had asked him for help even with his eyes closed. He had wondered about what you had done with it, whether the person who got it was worth your heart and soul.

He had wished, with sincerity, that it would go well for you but there was also a selfish part of him that pondered, contemplated how it might go if he told you he would love to have that scarf.

You grimaced when he didn’t say a word, before slowly closing up the box. You had prepared yourself for this outcome, but part of you still felt a familiar sting in your chest.

Until you saw him digging into his own bag and pulling out a tiny bag. You were still dazed as he handed it to you, his fingers holding onto the handle and a smile on his face as he waited for you to take it. You reached out with both palms, before the weight of it settled in your hand.

It was a pair of gloves, soft and sturdy in your hands without a single stitch out of place. Your finger brushed against the intricate patterns at the center before stopping at the elastic hem. You could not help but slid it on, gasping in awe at how it fit perfectly.

Kita was smiling at you, and he was throwing the end of the scarf to his back when you looked up at him. The one he had worn that morning when he made way back to school under the cold was shoved into his bag and replaced by the less well-made one you had given him.

But he didn’t care, he loved it.

“Should we go?” He asked, holding his own gloved-hand out, “They are closing the school soon.”

You finally got to be mesmerised by him without having to shy away, and the way his eyes were full of you could only be matched to the sun that was setting outside, rays of what would be the last of its shine until tomorrow reflecting off the snow.

Beautiful, soft, and had your heart all warm and gooey.

“Let’s go.” You replied, grinning ear to ear, before taking his hand.

And it was so, so warm.