#my grandmother (mom’s mom) and mom both used to crochet and other things but have long stopped doing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miamoo27 · 1 month

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Before I do anything I need to write this

This weekend "it" started again. I felt the guilt come on of not wanting to spend time with my family or anyone. It isnt that I dont like people, I spend time with people all week. At work, school and home I am constantly having to deal with others energies. I need a break most weekends from the constant rush of the week days. I liked to use the weekends to do work, smoke, crochet, watch tv and rest. But it seems whenever my mother or father is around it is hard to relax. I am sitting her exhausted from forcing myself to look "happy" for my mom when there is 10000 things on my mind and the only thing I want to do is be alone and smoke and vibe. By myself. I dont know if it is healthy but my energy is depleted. It is the constant need my mom has for me to be around her and my pressure I put on myself to give her the attention.

Our personalities clash. All of this is very hard for me to admit or write down. I have no excuse anymore my mother is a good person. It used to be her drinking so i didnt mind saying anything negative. But now I feel like shit. But I have to remember my feelings and these journals are anonymous.

My mother came from an Italian catholic family. Stranegly enough her mother was really successful and work herself to get a good job and go to get a PHD as an immigrant. Her father was um machismo, racist. I love my grandparents but its the truth. For some reason my mom never like questioned that her parents had negative world-views. I get it was a different time but my mom grew up in the 70s so it isnt that insane for her to question her parents values. But instead she let her parents values of gender, race and class affect her. They brainwashed her and she never had the freedom to question it. Despite my mom being similiar to her parents in that regard. I feel the complete opposite and knowing who I am now I always questionsed everything my parents, teachers or society told me. It was just in my nature.

My moms parents were mean to her as well. Throwing degrating comments at her like "shes a broad" "shes bigger" "You arent good at art." The last one shocks me, my uncle told me they told her that after she came home and asked my grandma why she never puts her paintings on the wall "Because your no good." Who knows if thats true. When I brought it up to my mom she didnt answer. I cant believe the grandmother that basically raised me acted like this. But I even questioned her.

Who knows I dont know if this is just her. Because similiar to my brother I know why her parents (mom) maybe had ill feelings about her or were testing her. My father likes me more. I know thats hard to admit. He loves all his kids I know that. But he likes certain ones in particular, espically the struggled story ones and the fighters.

My father worked insanely hard to get where he is. I can confidently say my dad is smart. Hes intelligent in a different way then i am but he works his ass off. I work my ass off. He struggled because of money I struggled beacause of my learning disability we both struggled and made it out successful. My father watched me year after year fight for my education and never stopped supporting me. I know I annoy him piss him off but I cant deny that I love my dad. Even the times when I wanted to never speak to him again after cheating on mom, drinking with her and being a poor husband. Which affected him as a dad he was not here. But he always managed to stick up for me. And call me out on bs.

So when he believed me when I said I got accepted to FDU. EVen though I got into the interview. I wanted to cry. My dad who usually only believes me when I am telling the truth is sticking up for me when I lied because I am embarrassed that I did not get in anywhere and did not apply to montclair. I hate it. I am so mad. I am so confused. I worked so fucking hard and I know how this work I know life is not fair but I worked so hard I earned this I got so many punches I need a win.'

Also i feel weird I lied. I know when I am lying. I been in therapy long enough. I just want to make evryone proud. Think I can do something like go to grad school. But is it really what I want? Do I really want to be in jersey? I have so many terrible memories here. I dont want to be around Nick or Andrys. I dont want to be around everyone thats done me wrong. Not that they are the only reason I need to go. ASAP.

I know I can do more than this I feel it. I am not content. Thats my issue I relax but feel fire in me. Maybe I am a sag. I have a restless fire alway even if I am upset. The only time it rests is if I am sick.

My blood pressure was high again. I know why I am a mess I am nervous without me knowing it anymore. I dont feel it as much. All the lexapro and adderall drowned me out to not even being aware of my own anxieties and issues. I think of smoking weed all the time. I hit my juul and drink coffee excessively even right now. I put on a happy face genuinely think positively but I am so aware it hurt me. I get bored so easly I stay away from people. I bask in my addictions and pleasures. I am fearful still of someone leaving. I have been hurt so I would rather be alone. I am not depressed but I am aware of life. I accept it but then I move restlessly about. THinking all the time. My mind does not stop.

I won though. I won when I told myself today I am going to do what I want. NOt what will make my family happy. Or what I want to do in order to make them proud. But to actually do what I want. I dont know what that is yet but I am planning on figuring it out at some point.

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havethetouch · 7 months

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Life Update

Dere! I am still around guess what :) I just took a bit of a longer break again from the web and stuff because honestly stuff got a bit much and there was so much other stuff that needed my attention and time. Not looking forward to clear my inboxes across all my accounts again but eh, it is what it is. Prolly gonna filter out the important stuff and reply to what I need to and just delete the rest for a clean start.

But hey, all that stuff that kept me busy and mostly offline was the good stuff. I had my mother over at my place almost every weekend for a month now to help me out with some of that stuff and it really imporved so much about my situation and my livin space and a lot of other stuff across the board like literally anytime my mother came over I would be weeping at the end of the day in joy and relief. So yah, lotsa improvements going on that would've taken me a lot longer by myself. Love my mom.

There was a bit of an issue with the water supply, it got tainted and I got a little sick from that but thankfully I am young and my immune system is a beast so I was a lot less affected from that than other members in the community. Still sucked though. For a couple of days I was hauling water rations around to the elderly folks in my neighbourhood who were unable to get it on their own. It was a whole thing. It also lead me into the house of my vis a vis neighbour who sometimes talks down from her balcony with me and used to talk a lot to my grandmother and my father as well when they were still around. Let me tell you this woman is a master crocheter - everything in her flat is basically crochet. Wall decorations, seat covers, couch throws, pillows, there was a computer chair decked out in crochet sleeves... lotsa nicknacks hell, every flower in all the vases I could see were crocheted. I was surprised to find items that were not decked out or complety made oud of thread tbh. That visit was like.. a revelation bc ages ago, maybe two or three years ago, there was this image going around of a rainbow hue shift blanket with a pattern included to crochet that yourself. And i was like... man, wish I could remember how to crochet I would love to do this. Which also lead to me two or so weeks ago walking up to my aunt and asking her if she by chance has knitting needles and wool and if she could teach me knitting. Long story short I can knit now I have a huge bulky scarf in the works and because I wanted some fexibility on what I work on I started a second project last Monday (I can either hyperfixate start to finish or I need at least two wips in any given craft so I can switch back an forth) and now I have a triangle shawl that I just finished this morning. Very lovely. I also bought a shitton of wool which raised some eyebrows with my aunt and both my mom because they assumed I would not somehow get really really into it? Well. Jokes on them. I am already planning arm and legwarmers, maybe a sweater. Lotsa shawls. It is very realxing for me and my hands really could do with a new craft that forces me to not grip stuff too hard and get into more fluid and flowy movements while creating. I am also really fast at this stuff apparently according my fam so like... yay knitting :) Which is also a reason why my absence from the web got extended. New hyperfixation on new hobby unlocket it is getting colder outside and I get urges to make myself warm comfy shit. I also have some sensory issues with some fabrics so being able to make my own shit is hella nice especially since I found the softest whatever bulky thread that feels like those soft cheaps synthetic fluffy blankets and I love that shit and that is the material of the scarf I am working on and that is also what imma make the arms and legwarmers out of and yeah idk if you can tell how excited this stuff makes me because it does and I am already thinking about if and where to get a huge loom from maybe next year because I did weaving once as teenager and mhhhhhh I kinda wanna do something. (The knitting stuff also basically started with I want a thing imma make it myself how I want it.)

So.. yeah. Ah and in between I was also in Venice in September I can't remember if I mentioned that but I had a short trip up there and it was a blast and very inspiring. All in all life's been going up n up and as the seasons shift again I feel at ease and peaceful with everything going on. I also finally got my old landlord to fork over the security deposit so that's another loose end tied neatly and I do not have to go to his workplace to have a talk after all :) I still have a couple of things to do before winter hits because this will be my first winter out here (remember I moved in around March this year so it was still cold but it was more the tailend of winter in my area so yah that will be interesting. But I got my self made teas, I bought all I need to operate my fireplace and heat the house already in Summer and oh. I am finally financially stable again. Like fully stable. And bruh that is... a huge weight off my back (and also the reason why I was able to buy lotsa wool lets be real.) But yeah.. yeah only good stuff around on my end. All is well. And I feel great.

#touch speaks #long post #journal entry

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whispers-and-daydreams · 11 months

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15 Questions 15 Mutuals

Tagged by @cursemewithyourkiss, sorry I didn’t get to this yesterday...

1. Are you named after anyone? Well my great grandmother who moved across the ocean as a teenager alone has the same name as me (it’s spelled differently though) which is pretty cool! But apparently a total coincidence. Because when my mom was little, she had a family friend with a name she liked so much that she decided her child would have to have that name. So that’s how I got my name. Not exactly like I was named after someone though, more like my mom stole it.

2. When was the last time you cried? Well I started crying a little bit with happy tears the other day because my best friend made something really beautiful. But the last time I properly cried was a few weeks a go.

3. Do you have kids? No.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Oh yes.

5. What sports do you play/have played? I swam for many years and I did basketball for a few.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people? I really don’t know. I don’t think there is one thing I tend to notice first?

7. What's your eye colour? Green-ish brown

8. Scary movies or happy endings? I like both

9. Any special talents? Not really

10. Where were you born? America

11. What are your hobbies? Talking to my best friend, reading (but I definitely do not do it enough), watching films and shows, listening to music, making things which includes but is not limited to crochet, wire making and embroidery, and hanging out with my dogs. I also do backstage things for school musicals and take film class which I think also might count as hobbies.

12. Do you have pets? Two dogs who I love so much! My brother also has a turtle who I will say hi to often

13. How tall are you? I don’t actually know and I’m not bothered to check

14. Favourite subject in school? Film!! But I’ve also always really loved English and history (when I like the teacher).

15. Dream job? I guess the dream would be director but I really just want to help make films.

I don’t know who to tag..

#tagged

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smallpotatoknitwear · 3 years

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Quarantine Blanket #7: Corner-to-corner (3)

Aaand here we have it! The scrap c2c that was in my first two “WIP blankets” posts, in its final form!!! I could not get a good photo of the whole thing laid out flat on the floor, unfortunately, but I am really happy with how this turned out. It gave me a good way to use up a lot of scraps that are in colors I don’t use often (like the different teal variegateds, one with green and blue and brown and the other with cream and light green), plus browns and blues! And that giant stripe of bright green across the middle was another yarn I inherited when my boss cleaned out his props storage at work back in 2019, as was the kelly green I used between stripes of other colors, so it was great to finally get (some) of that out of my stash. What’s left of those two yarns is going into my scrap pile for my friend’s ripple blanket, as are the other browns and greens left over from this blanket! Since it was a lot of scraps, I’m not really sure what a lot of the yarn was, but here’s what I can remember off the top of my head:

Variegated brown/teal/green/blue/tan and cream/light green/teal are both Loops and Threads Impeccable

Royal blue, bright blue (near the bright green in the middle), and one of the tans are also Loops and Threads Impeccable

A lot of the tans/creams/browns were from a Bernat self-striping cake that my grandmother had in her stash for a while and passed on to me last summer. I had nothing else to do with it, so I wound each color into its own ball and threw them in with the scraps for this blanket.

Kelly green is a Caron One Pound (inherited from work) and bright purple is a Red Heart Super Saver... whatever their big skeins are called (inherited from my mom during my junior year of college, after she bought too much for a blanket for my brother). Cream is also a Caron One Pound.

Navy blue is Red Heart Super Saver (leftover from Quarantine Blanket #3!)

There are a few others in here, but I can’t remember what they are or where they came from!

I think my favorite part of this whole blanket, though, is the black fun fur border. It really pulls the whole thing together and I just think it looks so cool! When I did the white fur border on my second granny square blanket (the pink, blue, and purple granny square), I really loved it, even though I wasn’t thrilled with the blanket as a whole. Since I was already happy with the finished version of this blanket, the border just put it over the top and made it one of my favorite finished objects from the past year!!! The border is super simple—I held black fun fur (bought off Amazon) and some light-worsted black yarn (the Hobby Lobby version of Caron Simply Soft that I can’t think of the name of) and treble crocheted around the entire edge of the blanket. It took just over three skeins of the fun fur, and about 4/5 of the other yarn!

This yarn is a gift for a friend, and I can’t wait to be able to send it to them!!! I hope they love it as much as I do—and as much as Bunchy does!

#quarantine blanket #quarantine blankets #original #original post #c2c #c2c blanket #c2c crochet #crochet #blanket #afghan #stripes #scrap blanket #finished object

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little-murmaider · 3 years

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Skwisgaar 👀 (for the send me a character thing lol)

First impression: I love this idiot.

Impression now: I love this idiot so MUCH he is my SON he’s a fucking MORON and a BABY he’s literally never done anything wrong in his LIFE he is a PERFECT DUMBASS anyone who is mean to him is LEGALLY OBLIGATED to fight me in a diner parking lot at 3 am.

Favorite moment: Every moment he exists is a gift!!!!! I love all the times he shows how much he loves his bandmates. Like when he gets excited about his gift ideas for Murderface’s birthday, or when he gets FURIOUS on Nathan’s behalf when the Florida governor is talking shit about him, or when he says “loves you, Pickle” when Pickles lets him and Murderface get into bed with him, or when he cries at the idea that Toki is going to hurt himself. I also love any time he makes the only reasonable suggestion (you shouldn’t eat a bunch of food right before going to sleep/you should just put the bleach in your urine) and caves the second he gets shouted down.

Idea for a story: Hachi Machi where do I start. Okay here’s one I haven’t mentioned in any of these other asks yet: Murderface finds videos of Lil Skwisgaar competing in Mother-Son Beauty Pageants with his mom. He of course immediately shares with the rest of the band, who find it hilarious and decide to screen them at Dethklok Movie Night. As a prank! A goof! A jape! When Skwisgaar realizes what’s playing, he blanches and asks them to turn it off. But they don’t ha ha Skwisgaar just can’t take a joke ha ha ha this is a fun prank no one is unearthing buried childhood trauma at all! But then Skwisgaar smashes his guitar through the TV, destroying it, and all guys are complaining about him overreacting until they see his face and realize he’s not embarrassed: He’s devastated. He’s full-on sobbing. They fucked up so bad. (They make him a “Sorry We Fucked Up So Bad” cake and climb into bed with him for a Dethklok Seal Platform Cuddle Pile and it’s nice.)

Unpopular opinion: This is probably the most indefensible, stanniest opinion I have but I think he uses multiple forms of protection every time he has sex, and people continue to get pregnant because of his latent God of Life powers.

Favorite relationship: You’ve seen my rantings and ravings about Nategaar In This Space, and Skwistok is one of my top OTPs across all media, somehow. But I also really love his friendships with both of them! I also love the friendship between him and Abigail that I made up and to my knowledge am the only person to create Content for...so far.

Favorite headcanon: Craftsgaar Rights! He spent a lot of time with his grandmother growing up, who taught him how to sew, crochet, knit, needlepoint, all kinds of hands-on crafts. He still uses them as a stress reliever.

Send Me a Character and I’ll Tell You...

#asks #skwisgaar skwigelf #thank you!!!

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robinskey · 5 years

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Lover (Steve Harrington x Reader)

A/N: GUYS as you’ve probably noticed, I’m incredibly excited about the release of @taylorswift‘s new album. IMO, Lover is one of Taylor’s best songs to-date, and I thought it would fit perfectly with a fluffy, domestic Steve one-shot.

Warnings: Mild language, heavy fluff. Story under the cut.

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

This is our place, we make the rules

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

It wasn’t until you and Steve moved into your first home together that you realized how deeply in love he was with holiday decorations.

You had started the process of moving your belongings into the new place at the end of September. By mid-October, Steve had begun pestering you about shopping for Christmas decorations. You reminded him that you hadn’t even unpacked the last box yet, and Halloween hadn’t even occurred yet. Steve was persistent that you needed to get the lights up as soon as possible to “maximize the Christmas spirit.”

After a lot of convincing, Steve had finally agreed to wait until November. By then, you figured, he’d forget about it. I mean, this was the guy who couldn’t remember his social security number and occasionally wrote it on his stomach (“because I’m not dumb enough to keep it on, like, my hand, Y/N, where everyone can see it.” When when you suggested he just carry his social security card with him, he told you he didn’t trust himself not to lose it.) Surely, that guy would forget all about it, right?

Wrong. On November 1st, you were nursing a Halloween-candy hangover when Steve dragged you to Goodwill. You returned home with enough decorations to light up a mansion and spent the rest of the afternoon stringing them all around your tiny one-bedroom house. After dinner, you and Steve headed outside. As the sky faded to black, Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and he watched in wonder as your small townhouse transformed into a winter wonderland.

“Look at that, Y/N! We did that,” he said. The various colors of the lights reflected in his eyes as he gazed down at you.

“I didn’t know King Steve Harrington could get so excited over Christmas lights.” Your smooth teasing was foiled by a strong gust of wind that left goosebumps on your arms and caused you to shudder.

“I’m full of surprises,” Steve said as the two of you started back towards the front door. “For example, you probably didn’t know, but I can make the best cup of hot chocolate in the state of Indiana.”

“Oh, really?”

“Oh, yeah. Grandma Harrington taught me her secret recipe.”

Even though you’d known Steve for years, you learned new things about him every day. You wondered if you’d ever run out of things to learn about the boy you’d known all your life.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my lover

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Dustin Henderson started referring to your place as “our house” before you guys even moved in. He dropped by several times a week with updates on the newest happenings at Hawkins Middle or questions about how to handle a Suzie situation. At least once a month, Dustin crashed on your couch after a weekend movie night.

On one occasion, you and Steve returned home from a date night to discover half a dozen adolescents gathered around the television in your living room. A curly-haired kid carried around a bag of chips in one hand and waved cheerfully with the other. He flashed his infamous toothy grin, which you met with a half-scowl, half-squint of confusion.

“Dustin? How did you get in here?”

Dustin spoke through a mouthful of Doritos. “My mom dropped us off. And then I used my key.”

Your glare switched targets. This time, you directed it at Steve. He clamped his hand down on his face; you weren’t sure if it was to avoid your gaze or express his frustration.

“Dude, I gave you that key for emergencies only.”

“This was an emergency!” Dustin threw up his hands, sending an army of cheesy corn chips into the atmosphere. After falling back to earth, bright orange triangles wedged themselves into your new white rug. “The season premiere of our favorite show is tonight, and we didn’t have anywhere to watch it.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Your eyes scanned over the gang sprawled across your couch, armchairs, and carpet. Judging by the boxes of candy and cans of soda littered across the floor, Dustin must have raided your pantry. Apparently, the kitchen wasn’t the only place he infiltrated, since almost your entire linen closet was spread out over the living room. Lucas and Max shared the recliner beside which Dustin was currently standing. Will sat on a pillow with his back against the coffee table, his attention still focused on the television screen. You turned your attention to Mike, who was curled up next to El under a crocheted blanket you’d received from your grandmother.

“Doesn’t your family have a TV, Mike?”

"Yeah, we do, but my mom kicked us out so she could watch a soap opera or some shit. She and Nancy love that crap.”

Nancy.

That name ignited the flame of jealousy in your chest. You knew it was totally irrational; she and Steve hadn’t dated since high school. They’d both moved on-something Nancy did almost instantaneously. Steve had told you the whole saga of their mostly-one-sided relationship, and you were fairly certain Nancy never really loved him.

Still, Nancy was Steve’s first serious girlfriend. She was the first girl-the only girl, other than you-to whom he’d said “I love you” and meant it. Nancy was, and would always be, Steve’s first love. There wasn’t anything you could do to change that.

“Y/N? Hey, babe, you good?”

Steve’s voice jolted you back to reality. You shook your head slightly to clear it, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

You pretended not to notice the way his mouth twitched downward slightly in concern.

“Great. So we can stay?” Dustin interrupted. The hopeful gleam in his eyes was too much to resist.

“I guess,” you sighed, earning a chorus of triumphant “yeah!”s from the kids. “Your show’s probably about over by now, anyway, isn’t it?”

Dustin furrowed his thick brows, as though that was the most blatantly incorrect assumption you could have made. Lucas let you know that “it doesn’t even start for three more hours.”

“Won’t that be, like, midnight? Your parents aren’t going to freak out if you come home at two in the morning?” Steve asked.

“Actually...” Dustin drew out the word until he finally ran out of air. Then, he spoke the next few words in one breath. “We were hoping you’d let us spend the night here?”

You and Steve exchanged glances. Between your schoolwork and Steve’s work schedule, the two of you hadn’t been able to spend as much quality time together. You’d finally both managed to secure a responsibility-free night and a cheesy rom-com to watch while cuddling on the couch. (Steve pretended to hate those movies, but he almost always teared up at least once during the show.)

None of that mattered now, though, because your boyfriend could never say no to his favorite child-or so you thought.

Steve scratched the back of his neck. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before saying, “Actually, Dustin, tonight’s not the best night for a sleepover. Y/N and I kind of had plans.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Plans, huh? What kind of plans?” he said, earning a smack on the arm from his girlfriend.

Color rose to your cheeks; Steve picked up a pillow someone had haphazardly tossed on the floor and launched it at Lucas’s head. Instead of hitting its intended target, though, the cushion collided with Max’s face. Ever the hothead, the ginger quickly contorted her neutral expression into a deep frown. She chucked the pillow back toward Steve with tremendous force, along with a few other throw pillows. Only one actually hit Steve. The rest rained down on you.

And, as a mature, homeowning adult battling literal children, you knew there was only one correct response: to hurl each and every one of those pillows right back.

It didn’t take long before the scene devolved into utter chaos. Fluffy rectangles flew across the living room, smacking into bodies or simply into walls. The kids outnumbered you and Steve three-to-one, so you were doomed from the start. However valiant of an effort you two gave, the party still overcame you, burying you and Steve under an avalanche of pillows.

“Clearly, we won this fight,” Dustin said as he loomed over you. Steve had tried to act as your human shield, so he laid beside you on the floor. “I think that means we earned the right to stay.”

“Dustin-“

“No, Steve, it’s okay,” you said, turning towards him. “I know it’s not what we originally planned, but maybe a sleepover with the kids would be fun.”

Steve looked at you with admiration glittering in his chocolate eyes. “Yeah?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” You shifted a few pillows to get closer to Steve and plant a gentle kiss on his mouth. He smiled as your lips brushed his, and for a moment, you forgot about the gang of gangly tweens in your living room.

Then, a symphony of “ew”s and “aw”s and “can you not”s and “I think it’s sweet”s erupted throughout the room.

Steve shot into an upright position, pointing his finger in the general direction of the sitting area. “Hey, this is my house, and my girlfriend, and if I want to kiss her, I will. And if you dweebs want to stay here to watch your stupid show, you’ll keep your mouths shut.”

“As long as you keep yours shut,” Dustin quipped. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’d rather not see you and Y/N sticking your tongues down each other’s throats.”

You tossed the last pillow throw of the night at Dustin but agreed. You and Steve kept the PDA to a minimum that night. They were just kids, after all, and you didn’t want to corrupt them. However, when Nancy came to pick up Mike the next morning and Steve waved to her from the porch, you didn’t hesitate to flounce out the front door in your robe and draw Steve into a passionate kiss.

You just had to make sure Nancy knew what was yours.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my lover

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force-of-a-man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

Your favorite part of the day was coming home to your best friend.

Steve more or less memorized your schedule. You arrived home around the same time every evening, so Steve knew when to start listening for the sound of gravel crunching under the wheels of your car. He would then meet you on the porch with a “hello” kiss and a “how was your day, honey?” You always feigned indignance as he took your bags, murmuring something about how weak he must think you are to not be able to carry them two more steps. But, secretly, you spent your entire commute home anticipating the interaction.

This was especially true on the stressful days, the ones you felt would never end. Even though Steve was completely clueless in most situations, he could typically tell when you were in a foul mood. Those were the times he pulled you a little closer to his heart, hugged you a little tighter, loved you a little extra-just in case you needed it.

Today, you really, really did. It had been one of those days where everything seems to go wrong. You couldn’t wait to crawl into bed with Steve and snuggle all your sorrows away.

As you pulled into the driveway, your heart beat faster in anticipation. You watched the front door swing open. It took you a second to realize that the figure standing on the porch wasn’t your boyfriend. Rather, it was a short, stocky kid with a halo of golden curls. If it hadn’t been for the unmistakable hair, you might not have recognized him; you’d never seen him sans ballcap but plus a paisley-print bowtie around his neck and certainly never with dish rag was draped over his arm.

“Hey, Dustin,” you said. When he responded by simply smiling back at you, you asked, “What...what’cha doing here, kid?”

“Hello, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll be your server for the evening,” he responded without missing a beat.

“My server?”

Dustin bent his head slightly in what he must have considered a sophisticated spin on a nod. “Indeed. Now, if you’ll follow me, ma’am...”

You kicked off your shoes and set down your purse before wandering after your guide down the dimly-lit hall. Something crinkled under your footsteps. You quickly noticed small ovals scattered across the wood floor. As you stepped on one, it felt like silk against your bare feet.

Petals?

You were too busy staring at the flowers scattered across the hall to realize you’d reached your destination. Dustin stopped, and you ran right into his back. You stumbled before regaining your balance and taking a look around the room.

The “server” had escorted you to your own kitchen-a place you were quite familiar with, since Steve couldn’t cook a decent meal to save his life. (To be fair, though, you weren’t much more skilled with the stove, so approximately 90% of your diet was comprised of takeout and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches.) However, you’d never seen the kitchen quite like this.

It was the cleanest it had been since move-in day. Not a dish sat on the counter or even in the sink. The crumbs typically scattered across the floor had been replaced by rose petals. Sparkling white Christmas lights stretched across the room, and Elvis Presley crooned over the record player in the corner of the room. You didn’t even know Steve owned a record player. (As you later discovered, he didn’t. He’d borrowed it from Jonathan Byers.)

In the center of the room, your cheap card table was draped with a lace tablecloth. Wedged between two covered silver platters that looked like they belonged in a castle, a flickering candle cast shadows on the face of the boy sitting beside it. As soon as his eyes fell on you, he scrambled to his feet and over to you.

“Hi,” Steve said, winding his arms around your waist. He sounded breathless, even though he’d literally just walked a few feet.

“Hey.” Your eyes flicked from his slicked-back hair and freshly-shaven face to his crisp button-up and newly-polished shoes. “What’s-um-what’s all this?” you asked, vaguely gesturing around the room.

“Oh, you know.” Steve pressed a quick kiss to your lips before taking your hand and leading you to the table. “I just thought I’d do something special for you tonight.”

"That’s...really sweet.”

Steve scooted your chair in before placing himself back into the seat across from you. Dustin disappeared into your pantry, then returned with a bottle of sparkling grape juice. As you watched the teenager carefully pour a splash into each of your glasses, you asked whether Steve had bribed or tricked him into spending his Friday night playing restaurant.

“This is my full-time job, ma’am. This is how I earn my living,” Dustin answered dutifully before breaking character. “Besides, four of my stupid friends are on a double-date, and Will’s sick, so I had nothing better to do.”

“Way to sell us on the idea that you want to be here, dipshit,” Steve remarked.

“Hey, show our waiter a little respect!” you teased, gently kicking Steve under the table.

“Thank you, Y/N. But, actually, I prefer the term server,” Dustin corrected. He proceeded to produce a notepad from his pocket and read you the specials-or, rather, special, considering there was only one: spaghetti with meatballs. “On our regular menu, we also offer a wonderful noodle dish with a marinara sauce for the same low price as the special-zero dollars.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So...just spaghetti again?”

Dustin clapped a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Excuse you, madam. It’s spaghetti without meatballs, which is a completely different experience.” Dustin glanced around as though someone might overhear before quietly adding, “Personally, I would recommend the spaghetti with meatballs, unless you want grubby hands digging around in your dish to pull out the meatballs, which may or may not already be incorporated into the pasta.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed nonetheless. “I guess I’ll have the spaghetti with meatballs, then.”

“Excellent choice. And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same,” said Steve.

“Well, you’ve both made this very easy for me. Pardon my reach,” Dustin said, leaning over to pluck the covers off the platters. A heaping hill of noodles, red sauce, and meatballs lay underneath.

Dustin took the lids and disappeared into the living room. You weren’t sure if Dustin was just trying to stay out of the way or if he was going to attempt to wash them in the bathroom sink. It definitely wouldn’t have been the weirdest thing he’d done in your house; once, you and Steve caught him trying to explain morse code to a squirrel in your backyard. That kid was truly an odd duck.

And speaking of weird behavior, you were still seriously questioning what was happening. Steve was a sweetheart, and he did everything in his power to make you happy. This definitely wasn’t the first time he’d surprised you with a thoughtful gesture, but it was probably the most all-out he’d ever gone. The last time he even attempted to cook for you was during senior year of high school, when you first started dating. As an after-school snack, Steve had popped some pizza rolls in the microwave and promptly forgotten about them...until, of course, the kitchen appliance burst into flames.

As strange as it was, you didn’t want to ruin the moment by verbally expressing your curiosities. You simply swirled slightly-soggy spaghetti around your spoon and savored the small talk. Eventually, Dustin reappeared to clear your plates and ask if you wanted dessert.

“What are my options?”

Dustin’s excellent waiter facade faded for a second. He glanced at Steve with wide eyes. His gaze begged for guidance-which Steve failed to provide. He simply squinted at Dustin as if to say, Figure it out for yourself.

The entire ordeal lasted about fifteen seconds. It was too long for Dustin to turn back to you with a tight-lipped smile plastered on his face as though nothing had just happened between them.

“The final course is-the dessert, uh-it’s a surprise.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw Steve offer a nod of approval.

“Okay...” You drew out the word as your mind jumped to every conclusion possible. “Is it a good surprise? Or is it, like, a somewhat-edible science experiment that might actually poison me?”

“Oh, no, no. It’s a good surprise. You’ll like it. I promise,” Dustin said. “I-uh-I’ll go get it,” he said, then disappeared once more.

“Steve, why did Dustin just head toward the bathroom? I swear, if he made Jell-O in the toilet or something, I’m going to lose it.”

Steve just shrugged. He avoided your gaze, and a few beads of sweat had broken out across his forehead. That pretty much solidified your suspicions that Steve and Dustin were pulling some weird sort of prank on you.

Dustin returned a few minutes later with yet another silver platter. (Seriously, where was he getting these things?) This time, though, there weren’t any noodles on the plate he unveiled. Instead, a small velvet box sat on the metal.

The next few seconds happened in a blur. You recalled Steve rising from his chair and reaching for the box. Then, suddenly, he was on one knee in front of you. The box opened like an oyster. Instead of a pearl, though, its treasure was a glimmering diamond ring.

Tears began clouding your vision before Steve’s lips even parted. As soon as he spotted the water in your eyes, Steve started to get choked up, too. He tried to power through, but his voice became more strained with each syllable.

“Y/N. These past few years with you have been the best of my life, and I never thought...shit." Steve blinked rapidly, attempting to clear away the tears. “I never want to spend my time with-with anyone else-damn it,” he murmured as a drop of water finally escaped his tear duct and rolled down his face. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I had this whole speech prepared, but now I’m a mess-”

You stopped his ranting by placing a gentle palm on his cheek and a kiss on his forehead. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I love you for the whole-ass mess you are.”

Steve leaned into your touch for a moment and whispered, “I love you, too, Y/N.” Then, he straightened up, cleared his throat, and softly asked, “Will you marry me?”

“Of course.”

Steve barely had the patience to slide the ring on your finger with his shaking hands before he picking you up and swinging you around. He kissed all over your face, and your happy tears mixed with his in a joyous saltwater solution.

The kiss fest didn’t end until Steve, caught up in all the excitement, accidentally pressed his lips to your nostrils. The two of you burst into a fit of giggles amplified by the ecstasy of the emotions you were feeling. Your hysteria lasted for several minutes and ended with you and Steve laying on the floor, lungs devoid of oxygen and limbs tangled together.

“Are you guys really that happy, or are you, like, on something?”

You both glanced toward Dustin, whose presence had completely slipped your mind. Luckily, Steve had a response ready. It was cheesy and cliche, but nothing could have fit the situation more perfectly:

“No, dude. We’re just high on life.”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (Forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Oh, you're my, my, my, my

Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover

***

Taglist: @novaddictx @anabundance0ffand0ms @rexorangecouny @broadwayandnetflix @explode-a-pult @whormotional @loulouloueh @readinthegarden12 @lacunaclouds

If you want to be added to the tag list for a specific character/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3

If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)

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angelofarts · 4 years

Text

Of Crochet and Comas Part 1

I crochet. I do not knit. Knitting is an inferior art form. I crochet. I am complex.

“I am full of it,” I muttered to myself, staring at the words on the screen. The thing is, when your whole personality is this one thing you do and you can’t actually tell people it’s what you do, what do you tell them? Do you play the sympathy card? Do you make something up? Do you ignore the paper in the hopes that it’ll go away, knowing at the last hour you’ll play both the previous cards at the same time to scrape a pass?

Yeah, inevitably I end up on option 3.

I pushed away the laptop, leaving it on the scrunched with the blanket on the end of my bed, half buried under my duvet. No matter how many times Mom comes in and eyes it sadly, or Dad shakes his head at me, I refuse to give it up. That blanket is mine, no one else’s.

“Going to the hospital,” I called to my mom who was in her office as I found a clean t-shirt.

“Is it visiting hours?” she called back as I sniffed the armpit of the shirt. Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly clean, but it was clean enough for my purposes.

I swung out of my room, scooping my backpack up. “Yeah, they let me in whenever,” I told her as though she didn’t already know this. She looked up at me, her eyes out of focus, and swept her fringe back. Defying the laws of gravity, it immediately sprung back into a frizzy mess.

“Okay, ride safe,” she said vaguely, turning back to her spreadsheet. “Take your phone and your backpack. Get some homework done.”

I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me, and left through the passage leading to the back door. My bike stood there, the patches that weren’t orange rust peeked through with dark grey. An archaeologist had once offered me fifty bucks for it, convinced it outdated several of his finds, but old Raptor was mine until I got my license and could upgrade to the equally crappy and significantly more expensive rusted car sitting in our driveway.

The hospital wasn’t far away, and yet I somehow managed to get flipped off four times, honked at six, and almost hit twice. Regardless of the fact that I was in the right lane, one of the drivers tailed me a block, yelling obscenities. I merrily waved my middle finger back at him until he drove past, obviously deciding some kid on his bike wasn’t worth ruining his afternoon for.

At the hospital, I chained my bike up to the stand in front of the visitor’s entrance and hiked my backpack further up my shoulders. The air conditioning hit me, and I winced – despite cycling here and it being winter, I’d forgotten anything practical for the day like a sweater or hat or scarf, instead standing in my jeans and tee like normal.

“Hey Aaron,” Nurse Nancy called from her station. “Good to see you.”

I felt a goofy grin split over my face. “Nancy my love, how have you been? Keeping our affair a secret, I hope? I’d hate to have to become your sugar daddy when I have no sugar to provide.”

Nurse Nancy, a woman probably old enough to be my grandmother, gave me a good natured chuckle and tsked as she waved me past towards long term residency. I clutched at my chest dramatically as I staggered through the swinging doors.

Entering the ward, I waved at the nurses and some of the residents who were out for the morning. Bert, an old man with a heart condition, was reading in the common area where he first taught me how to cheat at poker. Lizzie, a middle aged woman with some sort of hormone malfunction was next to him, yelling at the politicians on TV. She was the reason I was passing history – the woman was a walking library.

Not a lot of the residents are permanently in long term, since most medicines can be administered at home, but Bert and Lizzie had no one to help them take the meds, so they had been a staple of this wing for the four years I’d been coming in.

Closer to my destination I ran into the younger crowd – teenagers my age who had to come in for a month or so at a time for some or other condition. Lisa I knew had cystic fibrosis and came in whenever she flared up, although you wouldn’t say she was chronically ill from how put together she always looked – long blonde hair always tied back, always in real clothes when the others would spend days in pyjamas. Richard had Crohn’s disease, and you could always tell when he came in from how much weight he’d lost or gained. There were others – diabetics, cancer kids, a whole host of them who somehow had managed to find a society within themselves, one which I, as an outsider, was very much not a part of.

Finally, I reached the last door and propped it open, to the familiar, rhythmic electronic beeps of the heart monitor and the gush of air in and out of the respirator.

“Hey bro,” I whispered softly.

My brother, Kenzo, didn’t reply, not that I expected him to. His chest artificially rose and fell as I softly dropped my backpack to the floor and sat in the visitors chair next to him.

Kenzo was the one who introduced me to crochet, back when we were kids. I, at four, had less than no patience for the wool and stick my mom was trying to show us, but he took to it like a duck to water, and within three weeks we were both going at it. Anything to be like my big brother.

Just a year separated us, but it was a year that made a difference. Kenzo was the model student, the popular sports star who somehow was genuinely nice to everyone. One year he found out who didn’t have Valentines, and anonymously sent fifty crocheted roses to the girls and guys (He’d made me help of course). One year he raised money for charity through selling scarves. He was Mr Perfect, as far as our peers were concerned.

I didn’t have the same sheen on him – bathing together until you’re three does that to a person – but even knowing the crappy stuff he did, like the brief stint of shoplifting before I threatened to turn him in, or the time I caught him and our neighbours smoking pot in the back garden, I couldn’t deny that he was a good brother. Until the day he wasn’t.

Until the day he ended up here, in a coma, because of me.

I bent over to open my backpack. “Here, I made you something. Winter is getting cold, and you need some protection I bet.”

I emerged with a hunter green hat, one I knew would suit his colouring because it suited mine. The green clashed with the dark brown of my hair, bringing some colour into my pale cheeks. I pulled it onto his head carefully and tucked it around his ears the way he used to like it.

“Looks great, bro,” I said softly, leaning back. “How are you still hotter than me though? Hardly seems fair. If you take Nurse Nancy away from me now, I really will have to call mutiny.”

“Nurse Nancy?”

A curious voice had spoken from the door, and I bolted upright, kicking my bag under Kenzo’s bed. At the door stood a girl, about my height, with pale skin and auburn hair, clutching a bag.

“Sorry,” she said immediately. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I only came to drop off this blanket and I didn’t think there would be anyone in here because there’s never anyone here when I come past and when I heard it I stopped because you never know who could be here talking to their family and I don’t want to interrupt but then you mentioned Nurse Nancy and she’s my aunt and she’s married to my Aunt Ellen so I hate to burst your bubble but I think you might need to find a new girlfriend.”

She finally stopped to draw breath, after the most impressive babble I’d ever heard. I waited a beat to make sure she was really done.

“You should offer your lung capacity to Lisa.”

Red began to bloom in her face, spreading from her nose to her cheeks and down her neck. Now that I was paying attention to her clothes, rather than her words, I could see she was dressed in a button up shirt, cardigan, and a pleat skirt. Her shoes (leather brogues) were neatly tied and polished to a shine. Throw in her dark blue lace tights, and I couldn’t help but feel like she was a time traveller from the 1940’s.

She let out a laugh, and to my humiliation, I realized I’d said the last of my thought out loud. It was my turn to flush, although it wasn’t nearly as spectacular as hers.

“Tesha,” she introduced, holding out a hand.

“Aaron,” I replied, taking it and giving it a limp shake.

“Are you Kenzo’s brother?” she asked curiously as she set down the bag she’d had slung over one shoulder, patterned with birds. “I come in here often, but I’ve never seen you here before.”

I nodded. “They gave me free reign since he’s a coma patient, so I’m not usually here in normal visiting hours. Which begs the question – what are you doing here?”

“Christmas in July,” she said cheerfully, pulling out a woollen blanket in deep burnt orange.

“It’s May,” I countered, raising an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes as she set the blanket over Kenzo’s legs.

“Don’t be a buzzkill. Time is meaningless, so presents are eternal.”

I snorted as I fell back in my chair. “I should use that line with my teachers to get extensions.”

She smiled and tucked the blanket down gently. “There you go, Mr Kenzo. Looks just as good as I’d expected.”

If this was a magic story, Kenzo would have woken up then through Tesha’s kind action, or her sheer force of personality and charm. This isn’t though, so naturally I noticed at that moment that the blanket was knitted, and let out a derisive snort.

“What?” Tesha asked defensively, her eyes flashing slightly.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “It’s just that Kenzo doesn’t like knitted stuff, especially not machine knit. But I’m sure it’s a nice blanket, really.”

Her mouth started to pinch. “This,” she said very clearly, “was not machine knit. This was hand knit, by yours truly, and you are a snob and not very nice. I’m leaving now.”

With that, she swirled around and left with a little “hmph.”

I got up to chase after her, not sure if I was going to apologize to her or further mock the institution of knitting. When I got to the corridor though, I saw that she’d disappeared, no doubt to engulf someone else in her snobbish, “superior” items.

“Whatever,” I muttered to myself, turning towards the bathrooms.

On the way there, I ran into Richard, who uncharacteristically stopped to talk to me.

“Dude, did you do something to piss off Tesha?”

My face flushed again as I quelled the urge to push past the dark teen in front of me. He had a disease, he was basically skin and bones, he had no contribution towards me sticking my foot in my mouth…

“No,” I snapped. “She’s being a snob.”

Okay, so much for being nice to sick kids. I try to be nice to the teenagers here, knowing that if circumstances had been different it was very likely that I would be one of them, but it was difficult when none of them usually acknowledged my existence. Between their cold shoulders and the tip toeing I got at school, I was getting rusty with appropriate social interactions.

Richard snorted loudly. “Yeah, right.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

He shifted in his wheelchair, and his jersey slipped down one bony shoulder. “Tesha is a saint. No way she started it.”

“Were you there?” I demanded, pushing into the bathroom. It was mean of me, but I let the door swing closed before he could follow, knowing it was near impossible for him to enter.

When I emerged, unfortunately he was still there, but now talking to Lisa. I snuck past them and back to Kenzo’s room to wait out my time in the peace of my brother.

#writing #spilled ink #writing about crafts #of crochet and comas #pandemic writing #its just for fun #please dont judge me

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basketofverbiage · 4 years

Text

Crochet

Here is day 2 of the 2019 Christmas drabble challenge! My mom and I both crochet and I love making gifts for people I love. And the thought of Taehyung and how creative he is hand making gifts for the rest of the guys just melted my heart. So, here you go!

Taehyung was bored. He led an exciting life for the most part, jetting from country to country around the world to sing and perform for ARMYs, but there are only so many movies you can watch, naps you can take, and books you can read on a long flight. It was this need for something new combined with his intense desire to create that brought him to learning to crochet. Honestly, he had planned to learn to knit, but then he remembered that knitting needles weren’t allowed on planes. He ordered a “teach yourself to crochet” set aimed at children from the internet and picked out some brightly colored yarn. It took him several days to finish it, but he finally taught himself enough to crochet a full scarf. He was so excited with his creation that he wore it on a trip to a local craft store. Something about the thrill of creation made him want to do it more.

While he was browsing the yarn section with a basket, he suddenly had a great idea. Even though they usually had to work on Christmas day, they all made sure to have cookies and cocoa and exchange gifts amongst the members. What if he crocheted all the members a gift instead of buying them? Each gift would be custom made for them and no one else would ever have the same item. Plus, his brothers were always more excited about hand made gifts than store bought ones. So that solidified it. He bought several books with crochet patterns, a full set of crochet hooks of different sizes, and all the yarn and other embellishments he’d need. He even bought a stylish new bag to carry his projects in.

Taehyung threw himself into his new projects. Even though he was just a beginner at crochet, there were a lot of YouTube videos that taught him how to make stitches he wasn’t sure about. The worst part was keeping the other members from sorting out what he was making. Luckily, they all tended to distract themselves easily on planes, so he was able to continue his projects without their noticing. Jungkook and Jimin did tease him a bit about his new hobby when he first tried it, but after he finished his own scarf, they were a bit impressed and let him be about it.

The project that took the longest was for Namjoon. He had wanted to make him a beautiful cardigan that was a bit on the longer side, and the worst part was trying to make sure it would fit correctly. He finally got the bright idea to borrow a sweater from him.

“Hey Joonie-hyung! Do you mind if I borrow this brown sweater? It just looks so cozy.”

“Sure, Tae. I never would have thought it was your style, but you can borrow it,” Namjoon replied before diving back into the book he was reading.

Taehyung happily took the sweater back to his room and measured the length of the arms, the shoulders, and the waist of the sweater. He wanted to make sure that it fit perfectly. After tucking away the information, he put the sweater on over his button-down shirt he was wearing so that Namjoon wouldn’t be suspicious. The only other difficult project was making sure that the fingerless gloves he wanted to make Yoongi would fit. Taehyung knew that his hands were larger as a whole but Yoongi had long fingers. He always complained that his hands were cold, but he would either forgo wearing gloves or moan about being unable to use the many touch screen devices in their lives. Fingerless gloves would help with keeping his hands warm while leaving his fingertips free to do the things he needed them to. It was easy to figure it out though, surprisingly. Yoongi was a sucker for holding hands with any of the members, plus it was kind of their thing. So, the next time they held hands, Taehyung looked closer at the way that Yoongi’s hands fit into his own so that he could make the gloves appropriately.

Jin’s project was so easy, but it just took a very long time. Jin stayed cold nearly year-round and constantly had on at least 2 layers if not more. Taehyung made him a full-sized blanket of super soft alpaca wool yarn that he found at a local farmer’s market. Taehyung took walks to clear his head when they were at home, and he stumbled across the farmer’s market one Sunday afternoon. The older lady who was selling the yarn initially caught his eye because she reminded him of his own grandmother, so he chatted with her as he browsed her booth. The yarn itself was so soft and a beautiful shade of pink, but when he learned that she raised the alpacas herself and had spun the wool herself, he bought her entire stock of yarn. Not only was it Jin’s favorite color, but the fact that it came from an alpaca sealed the deal. It would be like RJ had created the blanket and he just knew that Jin would love it more.

For Jimin, Taehyung crocheted an oversized sweater. It was baby blue in color made with yarn that was designed for babies so that it would be super soft to the touch. Instead of worrying about the size, he simply made it so that when he slipped it on, it was a little snug to his torso. On Jimin’s smaller frame, it would be a little bit oversized and comfortable.

Hoseok and Jungkook were his harder brothers to find a pattern for, but after several weeks of searching, he found the perfect projects for them. For Hoseok, he made a literal acorn bag. The bag itself was shaped like an acorn and was lined with a beautiful dark brown satin material that Taehyung hand sewed to the crocheted bag. Instead of crocheting the strap of the bag, Taehyung bought and modified a leather strap meant for a handbag.

Since Taehyung had made the scarf for himself, Jungkook had borrowed it several times, and that’s when Taehyung realized that he should make a scarf for Jungkook too. Since the gifts he had made for his other brothers had been a bit more elaborate, he also made a matching slouchy beanie. Jungkook tended to favor bucket hats when he wore hats, but Taehyung couldn’t find a pattern he liked. Both the beanie and the scarf were a dark slate grey with black flecks through the yarn.

Once he had finished each of the projects, he wrapped them meticulously. Each member’s package was a specific color so that he could tell them apart by sight: Namjoon’s was green, Yoongi’s was black, Jungkook’s was gold, Jimin’s was blue, Jin’s was purple, and Hoseok’s was silver. After he had finished wrapping them, he slipped them out to the tree when the members were all distracted. While he was very excited that he had finished them all in time and he was very happy with how the projects had turned out, he was beginning to get worried that they wouldn’t like them. Maybe he should have bought gifts after all. He got more self-conscious about them when he overheard Jimin telling Jungkook about the Prada laptop bag he’d gotten for Yoongi. Money wasn’t an issue as far as buying gifts were concerned, but Taehyung had crocheted his own love into his gifts for his brothers so he desperately hoped they would like them.

Christmas Day came quickly, and while they worked until late in the evening for a broadcast, they all caught their second wind at the thought of eating the cookies that Jin had made the day before and just having some time together to exchange gifts. When they all got home, they rushed through showers and putting on pajamas, then Taehyung helped Jin in the kitchen with putting some the cookies on a platter for them to snack on.

“You okay over there, Tae? You’ve been rearranging those cookies for like 5 minutes now,” Jin asked.

“I’m okay, Hyung. I’m just a little nervous that you won’t like the presents I have for you this year,” he murmured, avoiding meeting Jin’s gaze.

“You know that we will love it no matter what because it came from you, and we love you, Taehyung,” Jin reassured him. “Besides, we are all dying to know what you got because you’ve been incredibly secretive about it this year.”

“I know I have been. I just hope they are okay.”

Jin hugged Taehyung and cracked a joke to get him to smile a bit. “Come on, TaeTae. Let’s get these cookies and the cocoa out there before JK gets overexcited like he did last year. We don’t want a replay of him knocking over the tree chasing Jimin and Hoseok.”

When everyone had gathered together, they began to get settled in. Every year, they would play paper-rock-scissors to see who would go first, then each member would present their gifts, and everyone would open that member’s gifts before moving on to the next. That way, the member who gave the gifts could see the others’ reactions. Taehyung lost all around, and would be going last this year, and his heart was pounding in his chest at the anxiety. Everyone else had gone all out and bought designer gifts except for Namjoon, who had commissioned artwork for each of them from artisans that he loved. Finally, it was Taehyung’s turn.

“Before I hand these out, I want to elaborate a bit before you open them. This year, instead of buying something, I wanted to make something special for you all with my own hands. I just hope you like them,” he explained. “I’d also like you to open them one by one so I can answer any questions and I hope some of these fit.”

He started with Jungkook, biting his lip as the maknae tore through the paper. He could feel the anticipation of all the others building as Jungkook pulled the beanie and the scarf out of the small box.

“Tae-hyung! You made me a scarf like yours! I love it! Now I won’t have to steal yours all the time!” Jungkook exclaimed as he wrapped the scarf around his neck and pulled the beanie on his head.

The others complimented the craftsmanship and admired Jungkook’s gift before turning to wait their own turn. Since Jin was sitting beside the maknae, Taehyung handed him his gift next. Seokjin was more meticulous in opening gifts, always unfastening the tape on the paper and lifting it that way instead of tearing the paper. When he got the paper off and the lid off the box, he gasped as he pulled the soft blanket out of the package, turning to Taehyung with wide eyes.

“I found the yarn from a local farmer’s market. The yarn was spun and dyed by the farmer’s wife after they sheared their alpacas. So your blanket is technically made of RJ’s wool,” Taehyung smiled softly as he watched his hyung wrap the blanket around his shoulders and rub the blanket against his cheek.

“Oh Tae…it’s beautiful,” he whispered.

Jimin was next, bouncing slightly in his seat beside Jin in excitement. While he had worried about the others, he had no doubts about his gift for Jimin. His soulmate always understood him when no one else did, so he beamed as he passed the gift to Jimin. Once Jimin had wrestled the paper off, he squealed in happiness when he pulled the sweater out of the box.

“Your sweater is made of yarn made for babies, so its super soft and won’t be itchy. Plus, you baby all the rest of us, so I wanted to make something to baby you a little bit.”

Jimin pulled the sweater on over his pajama top then launched himself into Taehyung’s arms. “I love it, Tae. It’s perfect.”

Next down the line was Hoseok. Hoseok accepted the package with a big smile, knowing that Taehyung had poured his soul into these gifts. Hoseok would adore whatever was in this box because it was a piece of Taehyung he could take with him. He burst into joyful laughter when he pulled the acorn bag out of the box.

“You always carry those tiny little acorn bags, so I made you a literal acorn bag. And it was horrible hand stitching the interior, but I’m so happy I did, because it turned out great,” Taehyung explained.

“I love it, Tae. It’s perfect for me, and I will definitely carry it,” Hoseok said as he pulled Taehyung into the biggest hug he could.

Namjoon was next down the line. “For Namu-hyung, I made this. I hope you love it.”

Namjoon ripped the paper quickly and pulled the cardigan out. It was made in an earthy olive green and Taehyung had hand stitched big wooden buttons down one side. Namjoon immediately stood up and put it on. The cardigan was made to be a bit on the long side and came to just above his knees. While it looked silly over the top of Namjoon’s Ryan pajamas, Taehyung knew it would look stunning over jeans.

“How did you get the fit so perfectly?” Namjoon asked as he admired Taehyung’s stitches around the sleeves.

“Remember that day I borrowed your favorite brown sweater? Before I put it on, I measured the length of the sleeves, the shoulders, and the waist and hoped for the best on the length.”

Yoongi was last, and while he was stoic with a soft smile, the excitement was sparkling in his eyes. Taehyung nervously handed him the package.

“I know how cold your hands get, but how you hate not being able to use your fingers. So I made these. I hope you like them,” Taehyung said shyly.

Yoongi opened the box, then broke into a radiant gummy smile when he saw the gloves. Taehyung had made the gloves long enough to go midway up Yoongi’s forearms, and tiny pearlescent buttons decorated up the outside edge of the gloves. He immediately pulled the gloves on over his pajamas.

“They are lovely, Tae. Thank you,” Yoongi said happily. “But don’t think for one minute that this gets you out of holding my hand when I’m cold.”

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