#itchy wool sweater

[supertanya-mohair-sweaters]

(via Handmade organic wool sweater in beige)

[skeletalheartattack]

i warped this image and now it makes me itchy

pov: me (a fish) being observed by one curious gorilla. to become a snack or just a sight to see. within the coming seconds only i will know the outcome.........

GORILLA DINNER HAS BEEN SELECTED!!!

[samglyph]

Every day that it gets a degree cooler I think about that stupid ghost sweater by Kiel James cause I want it so goddamn bad but I can’t reasonably shell out 150 usd for a sweater that might not even be that comfortable.

[rainy-deer]

if i'm wearing something with long sleeves that i can't roll up i actually go insane and take psychic damage

[keeps-ache]

anyway i wish i had the superpower to dematerialize both old spring mattresses and itchy clothes just by thinking it

[six-of-ravens]

at least today i got to wear the aran wool sweater I got in Ireland that is so hot I can't wear it on anything but the Coldest days

[botchallthethings]

Sweater extension: 1/2 complete

[knightinpinkunderwear]

i think i mayhaps be autistic about sweaters

[worst-dolphin]

Literally never tell your coworkers that you knit or do any sort of craft because they will either forcibly commission you to make what ever whim they want regardless if you've ever seen them even wear it, or they will tell you exactly how to turn your hobby into a job

[supertanya-mohair-sweaters]

(via Beige organic handmade wool sweater by SuperTanya)

[malum-forev]

If you still have Receiving/ giving a gift available, could you please write about Avenger Bucky receiving a gift from reader, for Christmas or his birthday? But he totally doesn’t expect it and gets all emotional cause he hasn’t received a gift in decades and doesn’t know what to do with the whole thing.

Yes yes yeeesss this is such a great ideaaa <3

*

“This is stupid.” Bucky grumbled.

“What’s stupid is that you waited until December 24th to buy your Secret Santa a gift!” Sam said, dodging the thousands of people roaming the streets of New York. 

“I didn’t think the gift exchange would actually amount to anything.” Bucky groaned. “I thought we would be sent away on a mission!”

“I don’t care what your excuse for procrastination is! I just want you to buy your Secret Santa something.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what-“

Sam covered his ears. “La, la, la, la. I’m not listening, don’t want any spoilers.”

“I want to be put back in the cryostasis chamber.” Bucky sighed dramatically.

-- 

Bucky stretched the neck of the uncomfortable wool sweater someone on the team had forced them to wear. The itchy fabric made his skin red. Whoever started the ugly sweater tradition should be sentenced to life in jail. Bucky thought. 

“Will you stop acting like a toddler, we’re supposed to be the adults here.” Sam spoke from the edge of his mouth to not attract any more attention. 

“I’m not acting like a child, I’m acting like a senile old man. This is the appropriate way for me to act seeing as I’m over a hundred years old.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, immediately regretting the action as he pressed the disgusting fabric against his chest. 

“Okay! Bucky’s turn!” Sam yelled, not wanting to bare another second of his friend’s complaining, pushing Bucky to the middle of the circle. All of the agents’ eyes were on him. 

Bucky never really celebrated Christmas, back in the 40’s it was common for families to celebrate it but ever since he got out of the ice he- well let’s just say The Winter Soldier didn’t really have time for holiday shopping. 

“I got-“ Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Ryan as my Secret Santa so, here’s a knife.”

The room got eerily silent as they all watched Bucky take out an unpackaged knife from one of his pockets. 

Sam facepalmed himself. 

“Thanks Sarge.” Ryan awkwardly smiled. 

“I sharpened that myself.” Bucky said proudly. 

“Let’s move on!” Sam said, this was more painful than he’d ever imagined. “Who got the cyborg as Secret Santa?”

Again, silence met everyone. The agents looked at each other but no one stepped up.

“It’s fine,” Bucky forced a small smile. “I withdrew my name from the bowl. I didn’t need anything.”

Scattered chatter was whispered before they continued with the gifts. 

Bucky looked down at his watch an hour later, how much longer would he have to put up with this?

The double doors opened loudly and in you came. You quickly said your hello’s to a couple of your friends and walked straight towards Bucky. With a big smile on your face and a small bag in your hand. 

Bucky gulped as you approached him. 

“Merry Christmas Sarge.” You beamed, his brain was trying to process your words. Bucky felt like he’d never heard someone call him that, and no one should ever try to top it because it would never compare to how the word Sarge sounded coming out of your lips. 

“Me-Merry Christmas.” Bucky stuttered. 

“I’m your Secret Santa.” His eyes widened but it seemed like his reaction only made you happier. “I saw you pulling your name out  when everyone left so, I decided to pick it up for myself. I hope you like your gift.”

You were truly the human form of sunshine. He thought.

“C’mon, open it. I need to know if you liked it.” You pushed the bag closer to him. 

Bucky took it by the handles and peeked inside. It was a book.

He saw how you nervously fidgeted. 

“When I got recruited, I researched about you- well both of you, Sam and yourself. God this is embarrassing.” You fumbled with your words. “Anyways, I read that your favorite book was The Hobbit so, I tracked down a first edition copy since well, it’s been edited since it came out and I thought it would be nice for you to have something from back when you first were alive- not alive because well- Oh god, it was stupid right? Giving you a book? You probably don’t even have time to read-“

Bucky cut you off by wrapping his strong arms against your frame. 

“This is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received.” He mumbled against your hair. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” You squeaked.

“This is incredible.” Bucky whispered, not knowing if he could get any other words out without his voice cracking. No one had ever done something as special as this for him.

“You made Barnes smile!” Sam laughed, patting Bucky on the back. “You should get a medal for things like that.”

This one's short and sweet! Hope you like it!

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <;33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

[obriengf]

Forbidden Cloth || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: Stiles uncovers a strong disdain for Ugly Christmas Sweaters. Words: 1k Warnings: just stiles being cute af so don't read if you're not into that Notes: guys i rambled so much in this

hope he's bringing me love this christmas cause i deserve you here ✩

"Do you like my sweater?" Your voice carried such sweetness; an innocence that made a young man's heart swell with an overwhelming warmth. With that tone, you could get away with whatever you wanted and he would be right behind you, following every move, your cheerleader for life. You stood in his kitchen doorway, arms stretched between the dark wooden arches, a sense of 'ta-da' shown on the high upturn of your smile and showman's stance. And Stiles would have happily played along - singing your praises, throwing compliments - if it wasn't for the hideous fabric gracing your frame. His face dropped; speechlessness weighing down his tongue, brows furrowed and head tilted as he was truly lost with what to say. Your sweater soon absorbed every ounce of his focus and Stiles hated it. Truly, absolutely hated it. His jaw moved as words gathered yet remained unspoken, until, in candid Stiles' fashion, he let his mouth run before he could think it through, "What the hell is that?" Your brows furrowed, only mildly taken aback by his outright and unfiltered way of finally speaking. You hummed, "What are you on about?" Your question was rhetorical, to you at least, knowing full well that the itchy and bright bundle of fabric that you wore was anything but appealing. But you couldn't help yourself - messing around with the awkward mess that was your boyfriend was something that never failed to put a smile on your face. With pursed lips, you gazed down at your sweater, trying your hardest to not visibly cringe at the exaggerated embellishments. You hummed once more as faux naiveness contorted your features, "You don't like my sweater, baby?"

"I-I..." Stiles mumbled, trepidation sneaking inside his thoughts, trying to convince him to avoid offence. But the thing about Stiles Stilinski, even though he is the epitome of support and determination, he also has a bad habit of forgetting to filter his opinions before they escape his busy mind. "Like it? But it's so... so ugly."

It was quick when you saw his eyes widen; large warm irises of brown complementing his raised brows and ajar jaw. It was as if the mere second the words left his lips, Stiles realised what he said, and how much trouble he could be in. A deer caught in headlights, frozen and unmoving despite the rapid racing of his heart as it reverberated in his chest. He was potentially, and utterly, screwed.

"Wait, you think it's ugly?" You repeated his words, shot them straight back with a delicate timbre as your hands ran down the sides of the mismatched patterned wool. Stiles was looking worried now, and your capacity for games was wearing thin when you could see how he was beginning to pale. You managed a chuckle, filled with light and sincerity, as you began making your way toward him, "Good thing that was the whole point."

He watched you snort, his face dumbfounded, amusement breaking at the seams as his brows rose and the corners of his lips lifted in absolute puzzlement. His body was tense as he had braced himself for the blowback of how his unfiltered words could have caused harm, how they could have made you sad and insecure. He would never hurt you, not intentionally, and the guilt was hasty when it seeped deep into his bones and set every alert and emotion alight.

But now he was staring at you and that beautiful smile that was burnt in the back of his mind - living there rent-free, happily, most likely for the rest of his life. And by god, did it make him smile back with just as much joviality.

"I-I don't... baby, if you don't like it, why are you wearing it?" His words laughed but remained quiet as you got closer. It took everything for him to not come face to face with the bright and retched cloth in front of him as he opted to instead stand, eventually towering over your shorter frame, his hands large and delicate as they cupped your cheeks so habitually. Thumbs rubbed tentatively against skin; the touch was barely felt, but it was enough to provoke a red blush to gather where Stiles trailed.

You went to speak but froze in place - his childish gaze making you melt into the backdrop of your Christmas-covered apartment, always so mesmerised after all this time spent together. He had an effect on you, and he seemed to know it by the way his eyes had a mischievous glint that complemented well with his bitten lip.

"It's a thing, wearing ugly sweaters for Christmas." You breathed as your hands pressed to his chest, maintaining some sort of stability as he continued to courteously invade your space. His head tilted as he once did before, curiosity in the form of large puppy eyes and relaxed brows now contorting his features. It made you laugh within your word's undertones, "I've seen people do it on social media and it's cute, you know? Couples wearing matching sweaters -"

"You got me one too?" Stiles intercepted, but you could hear the hesitation in his voice. He loved you, so much, probably too much, but just the idea of wearing something as off-putting as your own sweater was something that made him cringe. "There's no way that you're gonna get me in one of those, sweetheart. I'd burn down the world for you, hell, I'd help you bury a body, but I'm not doing this ugly sweater thing."

He put his metaphorical foot down, but you saw no harm. If there was one thing that you admired so incredibly much about Stiles Stilinski, it would be his outright honesty - sometimes confused for an unfiltered mess, but you loved it regardless. You smiled up at him and he smiled back, unspoken understanding building the foundation of your relationship and it made the man lean down and press a gentle peck to your forehead.

His lips dragged down to your cheeks, your lips, under your ear before he whispered against your sensitive skin, "Alright, now go take that hideous thing off, and that cute little skirt while you're at it."

[missmeinyourbones]

LOVIN’ YOU IS EASY

cw: slice of life, very soft & domestic, slightly suggestive, megumi gets a love boner LOL, aged up characters (as always!!!) 

It’s decently late, nearly midnight, when Megumi finally comes home. 

His day was on the longer side, one of his missions running late into the night—not to mention the heavy rain refusing to let up making everything feel slower and colder and worse. He’d made sure to send you a text that he’d be home late, reminding you not to wait up for him, that he’d come home to you all the same.

So he’s careful to be extra quiet when silently squeezing through the door and locking it behind him. Squeaky boots dragging on the hardwood floor, he carefully wiggles them off of his feet before flicking on the tiny lamp beside him. 

In the barely illuminated apartment, he can now see your curled-up blob of a frame laying comfortably on the couch, softly rubbing your squinting your eyes at the sudden light. 

He sighs, one equally filled with disappointment and relief at the comforting sight.

“What are you doing out here?” he gently hisses.

The umbrella he sets down is damp with glittered raindrops. His actions are less cautious now that he knows you’re close but awake. 

He watches you slightly sit up against the arm of the couch. “Waitin’ for you,” you groggily state the obvious.

Megumi’s eyebrows slightly crease with disapproval, “I told you not to.”

“Yeah, and you should know by now that I don’t listen to you.”

He smiles at that—he shouldn’t, but he does. 

That's just the way things are between the two of you. Always turning a blind eye to your own best interests in replace of looking out for one another. He thinks that's what love is, a sacrifice of both the silly and the serious. 

He sheds himself of his jacket, revealing the beige wool sweater swallowing his torso. You’d picked it out for him a few months ago in preparation for the colder months ahead. You remember him muttering something about not liking sweaters because they're itchy, so you made sure to find one as soft as his pale skin. 

As he joins you on the couch, the wool feels soft and warm against your exposed arms. Settling onto his lap, he briefly mumbles something about changing out of his damp pants, but you dismiss the request with a muffled hum into his torso. 

His fingers idly dance along your spine, “If you take any more naps on this thing, you’re gonna mess up your back.” 

His words make you whine and further nuzzle into his chest. 

“S’not that bad,” you insist, referring to the frumpy olive couch beneath you. 

Megumi’s always hated it for some reason, claiming it’s not comfortable and too stiff, especially when your bed is right there. But truthfully, you don't mind it. Maybe because you get to associate it with moments like this—groggily waiting for your lover to come home and the relief of finally being coddled by his warmth. 

“And if I do,” you tilt your head to place a soft kiss to his jaw, “you’ll just have to take care of me.”

Megumi hums in faux annoyance but closes his eyes at the feeling of your lips. “Yeah yeah, lucky me.”

The rain outside refuses to slow and sounds like little fingertips against the glass of the windows. You vaguely remember falling asleep to the consistent sound of it, but it sounds a whole lot more comforting now that you know Megumi isn't outside in it. 

“How was your day?”

Megumi sighs into the couch at your question, “It was okay, thanks for asking.” He lets his fingers delicately weave themselves through your hair and over your scalp, “Busy.”

You hum back to him, vibrating his whole chest and letting him know you're listening. He returns the gesture, “How was yours?”

“Okay,” you sigh, “kinda dreary. I missed you.” Your voice is smooth and feels like honey in his bones. 

A kiss is placed on the crown of your head, “Missed you too, babe.”

“I thought about you a lot.”

“Fuck—” Megumi’s body instinctually tenses at your sweetly intimate words, before he’s shifting you around on his lap and readjusting his twitchy legs. “Don’t say that.”

Removing your face from his chest, you tilt your head up to look at him. He’s flushed pink, eyes nearly glimmering with love at the innocent confession from your lips. 

You trace a soft finger against his inner thigh, “Why? You gonna get hard?”

Your knuckles just barely brush against the shaft of his covered cock as you feel it already slightly stiff beneath you. Megumi throws his head back in a sarcastic groan before gently swatting your hand away. 

“You know I will,” he admits, far too tired to be shy at this point.

You pull your hand away from his half-awake length, but allow it to linger flat on his thigh. 

Your head returns to his chest with a genuine laugh, “You have so many non-sexual turn-ons.”

“What can I say,” Megumi dryly snorts, “you turn me on emotionally.”

You smile into his arm, leaving a tiny bite that has him slightly jumping. 

“That’s a funny way of saying you love me,” you tease. 

Megumi’s pointer finger delicately hooks below your chin, tilting it closer to him so he can get a good look at you.

His nose brushes against your cheek before it finds your own, nuzzling against it once, twice, three times as he hovers over your lips.

His mouth is just above yours as he softly oozes with adoration, “I do love you.”

Though not yet kissing, he whispers the confession through your lips, wanting you to taste it. Breathe it in, swallow it down and digest it in your lungs. He wants you to feel it in every crevice of your body, from the prints of your fingers all the way down to the tips of your toes. He needs you to know, needs you to overwhelmingly drown in his love for you, even in subtle moments like this.

“I know,” you easily return through his lips, “I love you too.”

[soothinglee]

rainy days⏤✰

lee felix x reader | 0.8k✔︎

my notes⎯ I hope you like this one! I personally love when it rains so why not combine my two favorites! lets cross our fingers and hope I can get another story out by tomorrow. also I found that I get a lot of inspo at 4 a.m, something about the peace and quiet!

warnings ⎯ none! just some (failed) light-hearted humor.

genre⎯ fluff

songs⎯ prelude in e minor, op. 28, no. 4

⎯ catalog for skz✰

the forecast on the news had told viewers that there was an expectant rain shower coming in from the south. nothing too heavy where you had to be worried about ringing out your drenched socks and fighting back when the wind upturns your umbrella.

that weather man is a liar.

the downpour that hits your windows drums in a consistent pattern, puddles of rain water pools on the window ledge, the wood begins to warp after countless efforts of stopping the leak from the cracks in the seal, ultimately ending in vain.

you had ditched the soaked towels for a warm cup of tea, wrapped in a wool blanket on your couch as a re-run of some over-rated show plays on the monitor. it had be only 30 minutes since you last heard from felix; he had texted you notifying that practices had ended early due to the unpredictable storm coming in, how chan firmly told them to stay safe on the way home and how 'fatherly like' he was acting.

in return you heart his message and send back a- he's right! no texting while driving! see you soon!

due to the rain clouds hovering over the sun the sky had darken in the short amount of time it took felix to get home, and when he did he did not try to hide it.

from the kitchen, where you were huddled over the kettle on the stove, you heard the front door smack open and seconds later a loud squelching sound.

"babe?" he drawls out, unmoving from where he stands, "can you uh, can you come here?" theres a comical desperation in his voice and you can't help the chuckle that slips from your lips.

you ditch the mug in your hand to cater to your helpless boyfriend, who stands there with his arms eagle spread, hair stuck to his forehead and neck like glue. there was a faint smell to him that started to over power the candle you had light awhile ago.

"phew," you huff, holding your nose walking towards him. a amused smile graces your lips, "you smell bad."

he rolls his eyes and lets you take his jacket off his back and watches you drop it to the floor, "yeah yeah, just hurry please? it's starting to get itchy and I don't know if its me or outside but something isn't right."

"yeah you think?" felix lets out a laugh and attempts to grab you with his wet sleeve but you manage to slip away in due time, though not without a scar. the backside of your sweater has a long wet strip in the middle of it. "look at what you did to me!"

"how about you quit complaining and help me!"

"nobody told you to go out and not bring an umbrella."

"(name)!" he takes his second jacket off and leaves it where the other lays and begins to remove his shoes. he takes a second to look at it, then at you, and then tips it over. a bucket full of water pours from the sole and onto the circle carpet underneath him.

as you stand there you can't help the horrific expression that makes its way onto your face. neither of you say a word as you watch the last couple droplets fall before you sniffle and shake your head blankly, "that's just disgusting."

felix, with the same expression says, "tell me about it, I wore it."

after a second you shake your head to clear the revulsion and go to grab all the discarded clothes. they feel ten times more heavy in your arms due to them being in a bundle so you rush towards the laundry room to leave them there. on your way you shout to felix, "go in the kitchen and finish off the tea! I started it before you came in."

Felix makes a delighted noise and you hear his bare feet smack against the floorboards, "for me?"

you roll your eyes though he can't see it and round the corner to where he stands hovering over the sugar and honey, "duh, but save me some."

"of course." his voice comes out as a soft mumble and you can't help but smile.

both of you stand there in each other company. it was peaceful, the sound of the rainfall against the roof of your apartment, fighting its way inside through the windows. the occasional clink of the spoon to the mug as felix stirs in the sugar. no bright overhead lighting, the only source of lumination was the small table lamp in the next room. you close your eyes to take it in. it made you feel serene.

a light weight is pressed onto your shoulder and you open your eyes to find felix looking at you with a glimmer of concern, "you okay?" he whispers, careful not to rip the ambiance with his voice.

you hum, a gentle smile taking over your face as you lean forward and place your head on his hand, "never felt better."

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this as a part of my falltober fics, I hope you like it!

It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female!reader imagine.

Thank you @famfan-1034 for proofreading!

Day 21: Sweater weather

Warnings: smut (18+)

Jake Seresin’s mother was an avid knitter, she loved to do so now that she didn’t have a job anymore and the kids were all grown up.

She had knitted several scarves and gloves but her favorite thing was the sweater she had made for her favorite son.

Jake had been flattered that she had decided the garment was for him until he had seen it, proclaiming it hideous, of course not to her face.

But while he hated the sweater his mom expected to see it during any family celebration in the fall- or wintertime.

Jake purposely didn’t pack it each time but there was a limit to the lie of having forgotten something, so you decided to counteract his dislike towards it.

One slow day in October, when Jake was home from work early and you had decided to make it a comfortable afternoon at home in front of the tv you excused yourself to change into the sweater he disliked.

The wool was itchy but oddly stimulating, feeling it against your nipples and on the soft skin of your thighs.

You made your way towards Jake with a seductive grin and caught him sprawled out on the couch, lazily watching the tv.

When you approached the couch Jake’s eyes raised to look at you, widening when he saw what you were wearing.

“Is that my sweater, baby?” He asked softly but you took your time to answer him.

You sat down in his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer.

Jake immediately reacted by wrapping his arms around your waist, scrunching his nose when he felt the itchy material of his pullover.

“Yeah. And I’m wearing nothing under it,” you replied by bringing your lips close to his ear and brushing them across his earlobe.

It never failed to bring goosebumps to his skin and just like usual it did, making him speechless for at least a few seconds.

“Does that make you like it better? Wearing it on family celebrations knowing what we did with it?” You went on as you started to pepper kisses over his neck and jawline.

Jake simply whimpered in appreciation and his hands found their way below your only barrier of clothing.

One of his hands found your thigh and squeezed, which in turn made you grind down on his still clothed upper leg.

“Listening to Jake Sr. drone on about taxes while you think of how you railed m-“ you began but cut yourself off with a shriek when Jake hurriedly lifted you and threw you onto your back on the couch cushions, climbing over you and pressing a heated kiss above the collar of the sweater on your throat.

“How I did what, honey?” He asked huskily, but you didn’t even manage to whimper.

He chuckled before he started to kiss you again, but you could see the hunger in his eyes.

He lifted the sweater to just above your bellybutton and held it there as he made his way down to between your thighs.

He left open mouthed kisses there that made you let out whimpers, before you let out a moan when he connected his lips to yours.

Jake loved to go down on you and didn’t just jokingly say that you were his favorite dessert, and he was so incredibly good at it.

He’d spend hours between your thighs if you didn’t get too sensitive, which was often the case.

This time though he just wanted to prepare you for what was to come, even if he enjoyed it immensely.

When he came back up to kiss you his mouth was wet with juices.

Tasting yourself on his tongue always sent a thrill through you and you buried your hand in his hair in response, receiving a breathy moan from him.

He hurried to pull his shirt over his head while you worked on his jeans and briefs, pulling them down his thighs and letting Jake finish the job.

He was back above you in merely a few seconds and resumed kissing you, his hands gripping the sweater and pulling it tight to hold you in place.

You both moaned when he entered you and you wrapped your arms around him reflexively helping him push deeper when ye started moving.

It was quick and rough and only heavy breathing filled the room until you reached your peak.

Jake was quick to follow and he groaned into your neck, his hot breath sending an aftershock through your body.

You held onto him tightly until you caught your breath, a smile reappearing on your lips as you caressed the side of his face lovingly.

Jake returned that smile and let his eyes wander over your body, running his gaze over your face and chest to where you were still connected and in turn taking in that sweater you were still wearing.

“Yeah, I think I like this hideous sweater more now,” he said with a chuckle, and you let out a laugh.

You knew that he’d be wearing the sweater to please you and his mother from now on, and maybe you could do something to reward him for it when he did.

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[lees-chaotic-brain]

Hello! I'd like to give Inumaki an ugly Christmas sweater (with high neck ofc) that was knitted by reader. It was her first time, but sweater still looks nice; and probably there is a bear pattern or written something cool and funny.

Good luck!

Ahhh this is so perfect for him, I love it! Also, credit for the text on the sweater goes to that one jjk x reader texts person who has Inumaki's name saved as toge bear. Lmk in the comments if you know who it is.

CW: Singular mention of puke (as a description of a color), crack, fluff

Collab Guide | Collab Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

For weeks you had toiled on your secret project, working well into the wee hours of the morning. Weeks of finger cramps, endless frustration, and eyes burning from a lack of sleep. But finally. Finally, it was done.

Holding out the monstrosity you had created, you couldn’t help but to cackle with glee at your horrific creation.

All your hard work and sleepless nights had finally come to fruition, and in your hands you now held the world’s ugliest Christmas sweater.

The base was a puke green shag, mottled with random patches of mud brown. Neon orange sequins had been sewn winding around the arms, the pattern imitating lights strung around a tree. And to top it all off there was a misshapen white bear with lopsided violet eyes on the front above the words ‘My Toge Bear.”

It was perfect. It was divine. It was your best work yet. Carefully wrapping it in navy tissue paper and placing it in a silver bag you throw open the door to your dorm and make your way to your boyfriends dorm.

“Togeeeeeeeeee!”

You call as you burst into his dorm.

“I have something for youuuu!”

“Really?!”

His eyes light up and he quickly pauses his game before swiveling in his chair to face you.

“Gimme.”

You had barely extended your arm and offered him the gift bag before he reached out and snatched it. Scurrying over to the corner of his room, he sat with his back to the wall and eyed you suspiciously as he opened it. And finally, the moment you had been waiting for arrived. Your boyfriend looked at your creation for a couple of seconds, silent.

You were practically wriggling with glee, dying in anticipation for his reaction to your gift. Slowly he looked at you, and an evil smile spread across his face. He stood, and retrieved a gift bag of his own from his closet and handed it to you.

Wait, where was his abject horror? His look of acute betrayal?? What was with that look on his face? You were beginning to feel a little uneasy.

He motioned for you to open it, before retrieving the hideous sweater and what-did he just put it on?

A sly little grin flashed across his face, quickly replaced by one of doe-eyed innocence.

I love it! He signed, gesturing for you to open your gift. Now open yours!

Filled with trepidation, you slowly pull whatever is lurking in the gift bag out into the light. Staggering back, you dramatically fling your hand against your forehead as you drop your gift. Your handsome, loving, loyal boyfriend had finally revealed his dark side. Laying crumpled in a pile on his hard wood floor was not a ugly Christmas sweater, but an ugly Christmas dress, made of itchy wool and covered with bells and flashing lights.

Do you like it?

His shoulders were shaking with the effort of suppressing his laughter, making his signing choppy. Giving him a half-hearted glare, you made eye contact and that was the end. 

The two of you burst into hysterical peals of laughter as you wheezed and leaned against each other. The second one of you was beginning to calm down, the other would hiccup and start giggling, starting a whole new round of cackles.

Once you had managed to get yourselves under control, the two of you each put on your respective gifts and had a photoshoot, dramatically posing with exaggerated facial expressions. As the two of you rolled on the ground, practically sobbing with laughter after Toge attempted to throw a sultry look of his shoulder for the camera, you fell in love with him all over again. This was what you wanted your future to look like; enjoying spending time with the man you love, while laughing over mundane things such as an ugly Christmas sweater.