#can u tell idk crochet terminology

[jellinuy]

y/n teaching malleus how to crochet! :D

୨୧ ༉ ‧ ₊˚ ❝in cold weather, we stick crochet together!❞

★ synopsis. with the chill fast approaching, you, the ever-dependable prefect, take it upon yourself to prepare for the fall weather with a certain some-fae.

★ featuring. malleus draconia.

★ formatting. oneshot / short fic.

★ notes. established relationship, fluff, gn! reader, silly fae humor. reader is yuu in this scenario.

꒰— ๑ author’s note. HI VAYNE !! ♡ it’s so good to have u as my first official request. i hope this was good !! this feeds my soul, actually, and i'm so glad you requested this, because cozy fall fics are some of my favorites. i dont think i've ever actually written for you, have i ?? ꒱

Delicate. That’s the word.

Crocheting is a delicate hobby. Emerald eyes follow the tenderness of your fingers as you weave and you curl and you go in and out with that small needle and that one piece of yarn, and eventually, those eyes watch you begin to weave something resembling a... scarf.

The concept is endearing, but Malleus still feels out of place with something so delicate.

“Child of Man,” he pauses to start on another row, albeit slowly, “is this right?”

You look over, keeping your fingers in the same places within the tangle of yarn you plan to turn into a scarf, and purse your lips just slightly. He frowns when your eyebrows furrow, and assumes bad news.

“Not… quite.” And he watches again as you reach that tender, gentle finger out and point to a previous row that he messed up on, one he hadn't noticed prior, your needle bumping against his knuckles. “See that?”

The housewarden huffs, and you chuckle out loud as an angered puff of smoke breezes through his nostrils along with it. Now both determined and frustrated, Malleus sets his mind once again on completing the beanie he promised to make you mere hours ago. You had been so patient, guiding his hands, showing him where to hold the needle, where to thread, where to start new rows and different stitches (the magic circle in itself was a struggle), so he had to see it through.

Lilia had always complained about his ears going cold when the snowfall started. Silver had mentioned that having a new pair of gloves would be nice, and Sebek... well, unbeknownst to him, Sebek would appreciate a singular piece of yarn, had it come from Malleus's hands, but even still, he wanted to do something kind. And for you, he'd planned to make a hat. He remembered you had let it slip that you needed more winter clothes for the approaching holiday, too. You'd done enough and more for him: the least Tsunotaro could do was crochet a few garments.

"You'll get it, Mal, don't get pouty," you assured him, those same delicate fingers he so loved running up and down his back in soothing waves. "You've gotten better, y'know?" you offered. "Remember what you were like the first time you tried to do this? We had so much scrap yarn!" With that, came a sweet laugh.

It was true. The young prince had improved, but he didn't do it himself.

"Look. Are you having trouble with the shape?" Even as you spoke, your fingers never stopped working that yarn through the needle. Leaning over to support yourself on his broad shoulder, your squished cheek against his upper arm, you told him, "Keep your stitches loose, Mally, you don't need to be so tense."

He looked down at you just as you were telling him not to be so hard on himself. From an onlooker's perspective, anyone would be able to tell he loved everything about the predicament he was in, even from a single glance.

"You are a very good teacher."

Pausing, your head raises to meet his eyes. They flicker down every so often as you finish up your final stitches (goodness, you really had been working all that time?), finally giving your fingers (and poor needle) a break. A grin breaks across your pretty lips, stretching into your cheeks in that way your lover so adores. You hoist the muffler up just above his shoulders, wrapping it around Malleus's bare neck until only his plush top lip peeks out.

He takes in the green and black pattern of the new gift, careful not to tear the yarn with his nails. He had to be delicate with it, because now it was precious.

You open your mouth to answer, cheeks pressed against his shoulder once more.

"And you are a very good learner."