Admit To Yourself That You Want Things.

I finally got around darning the toe of my favourite knitted socks!

I’ve had them for six years at this point and basically live (and sleep) in these socks all winter, and they are starting to fall apart; but I will darn them until nothing of the original yarn is left and then some more! They are from some generic fast fashion brand and I’m kind of surprised by how well they hold the constant use.

The purple yarn originally served to tie together a pair of leg-warmers my mum gifted me from a super cute and knitting and sewing shop. It was the perfect length to darn the hole in the toe of my sock.

The blue darned patch is from last year, I think, and it’s some sort of poly yarn leftover I found in my mum’s box of miscellaneous sewing and knitting supplies. I just had to pull in a few threads that came loose before they broke.

So I have been adopted into a knitting circle I have never met?? I started knitting a few weeks ago (on my fifth sock now! Socks are fun.) and one of my friends told their mother about it. Their mother knits. Like a lot. And she also hoards, again, a lot. So, two weeks ago, my friend gave me a care package with a project bag, stitch markers and a pair of small ducks to stick on the needles so I don't lose any stitches.

Needlessly said, I was absolutely overjoyed. I made sure my friend would tell their mother how happy I was about this (I mean look at those ducks. LOOK AT THEM), ran around screaming in a circle for about half an hour and expected the whole thing to be over.

I was wrong.

One more important thing: I have met this woman once, and so briefly that I don't remember what she looks like. I have no clue if she remembers what I look like. I don't even remember her name. Anyway, I guess my friend mentioned I was complaining about wool being expensive because I am broke as hell and that does not pair well with hyper fixating on an expensive new hobby. Now their mother listened to that, went to her knitting circle, and discussed me. With all these other old ladies. And they decided to go through their dragon hoards of yarn to decide what they needed and what not, and pooled together to gift it to me.

Whom they have never met before. Because they thought it would make me happy. AND I AM HAPPY. VERY HAPPY. (The only issue is that my friend refuses to give it to me until Tuesday afternoon so I actually study for my biology test which I guess is fair but also uuuggggghhhhhhhhh.)

More importantly, I am just so completely overwhelmed at the thought of these people hearing about me through a silent post game led by my incredibly cagey friend and just deciding to help. They have no clue who I am. They just thought it would make me happy. Holy shit. I need a moment. I am in awe.

Reblog this to wrap the person you reblogged from in a blanket like a burrito

I love how happy he looks here. ;-;

IT IS, ONCE AGAIN, MIC MONDAY.

It's been a while since I've rocked one of these out, so I'll elaborate on how this goes for those tuning in for the first time.

Today is a day in which we, as a community, come together and show a little extra appreciation for our favorite beautiful disaster, Sir Present Mic himself.

What's the best way to do this? Easy. Reblog and attach your favorite image of him—be it a manga panel, an anime screenshot, or even a good ol' meme. Bonus points if you tell me why you love it, be it in the tags, as a reply, or right in the text box!!

As usual, I'll start us off, but I'm counting on everyone else to really crank up the tunes.

song is bad friend by rina sawayama

Shattered Echoes -

{Erasermic angst} TW: Death

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In the desolate aftermath of a catastrophic battle, Aizawa Shouta trudged through the debris, his soul weighed down by the heavy burden of grief. The once-vibrant city now lay in ruins, mirroring the shattered pieces of Aizawa's heart.

Amidst the wreckage, he discovered Mic's lifeless form, a stark contrast to the dynamic hero who once filled their lives with laughter. Aizawa cradled Mic's cold body, his anguished sobs echoing through the desolation as he clung to the remnants of a love lost in the chaos of heroism.

The days that followed were a numb blur for Aizawa. He moved through life like a ghost, haunted by the absence of Mic's infectious energy. UA High felt empty without the sound of his partner's laughter reverberating through the hallways.

Aizawa's erasure quirk, once a symbol of control, now served as a bitter reminder of his inability to erase the pain within. The hero known for his stoicism found himself crumbling under the weight of sorrow, unable to escape the suffocating darkness that enveloped him.

As the city began to rebuild, Aizawa remained a solitary figure, a silent guardian haunted by the specter of loss. The world moved on, but Aizawa existed in a perpetual state of mourning, forever tethered to the memories of a love that once illuminated his life but was now extinguished in the relentless march of tragedy.