#more holiday sale pieces~

[yutaan]

Papercraft Haku(s)!! It's actually a bit of a challenge to find papers in my stash large enough to use as Haku's dragon body in the background... I have many, many, many papers, but, due to personal preference, most of the sheets are on the smaller side! But as you can see, I did find some lovely ones to use. Dragon Haku background achieved! ^_^

[bigmammallama5]

Do you sell your pottery anywhere?

Just through the shop of the community arts center I make/work/teach at! Right now it looks like my tumblers and a mug are still there, but I'm not completely sure since the website has been wonky lately. I guess?? They ship? I've only ever bought items in person from there, but you could ask if you're interested!

[faithschaffer]

-NEW TO SALE-

Three new small watercolors! These have been added to my holiday originals sale, I'll be adding more new pieces throughout the week! The sale runs through 11/23 at 10AM Pacific and pieces ship immediately afterwards. 

[bucketbueckers]

LAYUPS & LAYOVERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader wc: 2.9k content warnings: language, fluff, author is southern and doesn't understand how snow or marketing works, plot where there doesn’t need to be plot synopsis: It’s Christmas Eve and you’re in Connecticut, exhausted and just trying to get to Minnesota for a work conference. You could cry when it’s announced that all flights are being halted due to the incoming blizzard. Irritated, tired, and overworked, you pray for a miracle, although it takes an unnatural shape in the form of a six foot blonde athlete who’s just trying to make it home, too. Late night airport conversations lead to something more. notes: merry christmas eve from my delusions to yours! the last chapter of irp was super heavy so here's my apology and christmas gift (do i drop another one tmr...i really dont wanna write chapter 8 😩). i hope you all enjoy this short n sweet lil ramble i threw together and happy holidays 🫶

This can not be your life right now.

It’s actually kind of impressive how all of the stars aligned on this one particular night to fuck you over. You’re not a terrible person. You hold the doors for everyone, give up your seat on the bus for sweet old ladies, and you always allocate a portion of your paychecks to donate to Wikipedia. By all accounts, you should be overwhelmed with good karma, although it seems your luck has depleted on this night and this night alone.

It all started on the 20th when you flew out to Connecticut. You work a cushy job as a marketing consultant for the WNBA, which means you spend a lot of time in the air and across the country trying to unfuck – sorry, trying to optimize and rejuvenate – the state of the league and its teams. It’s a task easier said than done. Nobody seems to want to listen to you until they realize that your master’s degrees in marketing and business analytics actually mean something and aren’t just really expensive pieces of paper that you hang in your office. You spend a couple of days in Uncasville talking strategies to boost ticket sales and to gain more traction; they’re the only professional team the state has – it should not be hard to get people to show up if you can market it right, but here you are.

Connecticut is nearly a bust. It’s cold and you spend two full days in meetings getting talked over by men who think they understand numbers and branding. Then, on the third day, the front office suddenly realizes what you’ve been talking about (this shit was covered in your sophomore year intro to marketing class, but hey, the less people know, the more you get paid, so who’s really complaining?) and the trajectory of your trip makes a sudden turnaround. On the 23rd and early on the 24th, you help the Sun roll out the new optimizations, and what do you know? Ticket sales surge by 17%, including some season tickets, all is well in the world and it’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.

Then, all is suddenly not well and you remember that Christmas miracles are for people not surrounded by idiots. Your boss emails you just before you leave for the airport: The Lynx need your help. I’ve sent you tickets for the first flight out of Connecticut. Meet with them on the 26th. Said “flight” departs from Connecticut at 8:30pm on Christmas Eve, which means you’re not even in Minnesota until 12am if you’re lucky, which means you have to figure out hotel arrangements so you can take a nap because you’ve barely slept in five days, which means you have to figure out how to be nice to people again because the Sun front office has you pissed all the way the fuck off.

So, you’re tired, overworked, extremely irritated, and hungry, although that last problem is solved by airport Subway. You just hope that doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass, either – you firmly believed that you were better off betting all of your money on black rather than taking the chance on airport food, but you didn’t have much of a choice and your stomach was growling. You eat, settling in a chair at your gate, and patiently await for your plane to arrive.

Then, the overhead PA clicks on with some static noise, announcing, “Flight 932 to Minneapolis and all other flights exiting Hartford will be delayed due to inclement weather. I repeat–”

The blood rushes to your head. Your eye twitches. There’s a crying baby somewhere in the airport and you can’t take it anymore. Honestly, what’s stopping you? Flying a plane cannot be that difficult. You’re pretty persuasive. You can tell TSA you’re just young for a pilot and you’re not wearing a pilot’s uniform because it’s Christmas Eve and what are you, the feds? All you’re really asking for at this point is a nap but there’s no way in hell you’re making it to a hotel in these conditions and the chances of you sleeping in an airport with all of your belongings out for someone to grab are even lower.

A commotion towards the check in counter commands your attention. You turn, dreading the eventual crash out of an airport Karen, but it’s better than the crying baby who still hasn’t shut the fuck up.

“Please, there’s gotta be something else you can do,” a tall, broad-shouldered blonde is begging, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. “It’s Christmas Eve, I have to get home.”

The lady at the check in counter sounds sympathetic when she responds. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but our hands are tied. We can’t send our planes out in this weather, but if it eases up, the next flight out should have you arriving in Minneapolis by tomorrow afternoon.”

You hear the blonde groan, her tone sounding something like, I can’t fucking believe this is my life, which is a sentiment you whole-heartedly agree with. “Can you please lemme know if there’s anything earlier?” she pleads. “Like, if by the grace of God this weather clears and we can leave sooner.”

“Of course, ma’am. All updates will be announced.”

The response is almost robotical, but you can tell the receptionist is trying her best, too, and the last place she wants to be is hanging out at the airport on Christmas Eve. The blonde sighs, thanking her, and from the corner of your eye, you watch her hike her bag up over her shoulder and she moves to sit directly in front of you. That’s when you truly get a good look at her, at the dejected blue of her eyes, the chisel of her jaw, the logo on her hoodie. Paige Bueckers is no stranger to you. You grew up watching ball, so obviously you’re familiar with her game – any self-respecting basketball fan is. But by virtue of your job, Paige Bueckers is a name that makes your marketing heart beat just a little faster. Ever since Dallas won the lottery, you’ve been all over their marketing team. Paige’s entire existence and the chance she gets drafted to Dallas is the sole reason the Wings’ tickets are flying off the shelves. She’s the most marketable college athlete there is right now, one of the top rookie prospects for the league, but one look at her face in person and you’re forgetting all about your job. Her jaw is tight with a simmering anger, and honestly, you feel terrible for her – she already spends so much time away from her family and here she is trying to get out of Bumfuck, Connecticut, so she can be home in time for Christmas.

You find a little bit of bravery when you raise your voice slightly to ask her, “No luck?”

She looks up, glancing at you and taking in your features, and laughing slightly when she realizes you’re genuinely just trying to make conversation and not trying to get a soundbite out of her. “You heard that?” she asks sheepishly, sinking a little in her seat to get comfortable. You pretend to not notice her manspread.

“Well,” you begin, glancing over at the receptionist. “The desk is like, ten feet away.” She laughs again and nods, murmuring touche under her breath. “932 Minneapolis?” you ask, referring to your flight.

Paige nods again, quirking a smile. “You stalking me or sum’?”

You shrug your shoulders, a coy smile on your face. “Just observant,” you quip.

Paige grins fully. “What about you?” she asks. “You work for the league?”

At that, you can’t help your surprise, raising a brow. “How’d you know that?”

“Just observant,” she throws your words back at you. You laugh. “Kidding. I see your ID pokin’ out of your bag. You from here, or they got you workin’ on the holidays?”

“Work,” you respond. Paige whistles lowly. “I’m a marketing consultant. Been up here for a few days working with the Sun, then I’m heading to Minnesota to fix the Lynx’s bullshit.” You blink, registering your words, blushing as Paige laughs. “You did not hear that. I’m usually nicer to my employers.”

“They got you workin’ and flyin’ out on Christmas Eve,” Paige points out. “You should be meaner.”

You incline your head in a nod, huffing. “All of this for office potlucks and dental coverage,” you joke. “Don’t quit basketball.” Paige grins again and you’re suddenly reminded of your manners. “Sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself.” You do as such, only mildly surprised when she stands to shake your hand and introduces herself, too, which is honestly kind of endearing. Then, she plops into the empty seat next to yours, smiling widely.

“So, marketing consultant,” she says, her tone nonchalant as she gets comfortable next to you, extending her long legs across her suitcase. “How often will I get to see you?”

You glance at her, raising a wry eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me?” you ask.

Paige shrugs a shoulder, smirking. “A little. Is it working?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit. You can see the pride that shines in her eyes. You roll your eyes in amusement, still in slight disbelief, but you redirect back to her question. “Honestly, probably a lot. The league is super messy from a business perspective and their actual marketing sphere isn’t that great, either. As soon as you get drafted I’ll probably have to fly down to whichever poverty team you land at and teach them how to market you.”

“Yeah?” she asks, and despite the tease in her tone, she does seem interested. “How would you market me?”

“How much time do you have?”

“Well…” Paige glances down to her watch, then out the windows where snow falls in heavy sheets. “Looks like a lot.”

You snicker. “Alright. Bear with me, okay?” Paige nods in earnest, her attention fully on you as you begin to ramble. Truthfully, you did like your job when you were able to do it. The issue is and always will be the idiots you have to work with who overlook your credentials. “So, I’m not thinking about your personal brand at all. Like, that one’s already incredible. Your PR team did their big one with you. But the issue with athletes like you, wide-eyed and fresh out of college with an insane resume of endorsements, followers, deals, whatever – the issue is that whatever team you get drafted to is gonna want to rebuild their entire image around you. Think Clark, Brink, Reese, Jackson, Cardoso. It’s textbook – you advertise the person who’s gonna get you the most clicks, the most sales. So, how can we use that to actually grow the game, the league? I’m talking about longevity. There’s so many people tuning in for you that don’t know shit about basketball, and honestly, they’re gonna be scared to ask questions.

“So we push something corny. Social media segments with a catchy name like Ball With Bueckers or some shit where you break down basketball plays, rules, the stuff you’re gonna see and hear when you watch a game. What’s a pick and roll? A screen? Why is she getting fouled for blocking that shot, isn’t that what she’s supposed to do? Education, interest, loyalty, and competition sells. Stories sell, too, which is why the league is still trying to push the Clark/Reese rivalry. That’s old news, though. A more compelling story would have been the Fever/Sun rivalry, especially after the Sun beat the Fever and the Fever hired their coach. Or Fever/Wings, for reasons I’m not gonna ruin your night with.” Paige laughs at that, and you smile, clearing your throat and trying to find your train of thought. “So, when I’m undoubtedly called in to fix your team’s mess, that’s what I’d be suggesting. People already love you. Using that connection to get them to love ball, too, is my goal.”

“You’re really passionate about this,” Paige comments, her lips quirking into a slight smile. You can’t help but preen a little, flushing. “Like, about basketball. You really care about the sport. Feels like that’s harder to find lately.”

“Well, I was too short to play it, so gotta settle for something, right?” you joke.

Paige looks you up and down. You’re wearing sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt from college, but her gaze is shameless, appreciative despite your casual airport wear. She chuckles, a disbelieving noise building in the back of her throat. “Nah. You’re what, 6’5?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Try a foot less. But I appreciate you for believing in me.”

Paige smiles, nudging you a little. “I was serious, though. You’re super passionate. I like that.”

“Still flirting?”

“S’not everyday you get snowed in at the airport with a pretty girl,” Paige says, her gaze warm, and you can’t help but blush again. “Gotta shoot my shot, you know?” She mimes throwing a ball, her wrist bent, and you shake your head fondly. Admittedly, she did have you – hook, line, and sinker. You enjoyed the conversation, her company. There were certainly worse people to be stuck with, but you’re glad it was with her.

You shrug your shoulders. “Shoot away,” you say. Her subsequent grin is wide and you find yourself drawn in just a little further.

She asks you virtually everything under the sun – where you grew up, where you went to college, the team you were rooting for, and you answer. You tell her you’re an Atlanta native, born and raised, although you moved up north to study at Columbia. You were 8 when the Dream was founded and that was your team, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. At 10, you watched them win the eastern conference finals on your birthday and that was easily the moment your life changed. Basketball was your future and that much was certain. She asks how you landed the league job (connections, a thick resume, and lots of persuading), how you adjusted to the constant traveling (lots of caffeine and really good concealer), and the hard-hitting question of, are you satisfied?

For that, you really had no answer. Sure, you’re always busy, and that’s better than the alternative of sitting in your office and watching the seconds tick by. You’re good at what you do and your job makes a positive impact on the league. Your colleagues will be who they are; your work speaks for itself and that’s what you pride yourself on. But there’s always going to be a small part of you that yearns for something more, like someone else to share your life with. Someone who sits, and listens, and engages with you; someone who loves basketball just as much as you do (even if it’s a different type of love), someone who’s steady and spontaneous and adaptable.

Then Paige is smiling at you, her gaze warm and soft despite the below freezing temperatures outside; she’s listening, and engaging, steady, spontaneous, adaptable, and probably the only person in the world whose love for basketball could rival your own. You’ve known Paige for all of three hours and it’s nearing midnight in an airport in Connecticut, but it’s Christmas Eve and she feels so right. You would really like to see where this goes, and judging by the way her fingertips brush your knuckles, you think she might like to see that, too.

The two of you talk all through the night, waiting for the weather to ease up. The conversation never slows and you’re certain you’ve never smiled or laughed this much in a long time. It takes you twelve hours of delirious conversation to realize that your luck never depleted. Paige was your overwhelming karma, sent by some sort of Christmas miracle to answer all of the wishes you’d kept to yourself for years. The stars aligned not to fuck you over, but to trap you in an airport with Paige Bueckers, and you find that she’s possibly the best Christmas gift you could have ever gotten.

When the weather finally clears and your plane arrives, you find that your seats are right next to each other – and, well, fate works in funny ways, doesn’t it? You’re both exhausted, but when she lowers the armrest and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into your side, you can’t help your relieved sigh, leaning into her chest. You and Paige sleep through the entire flight. You dream of soft blue eyes, the lingering scent of her cologne, the promise of how this could last.

You land in Minneapolis and you eventually have to go your separate ways. The two of you exchange numbers, saying your goodbyes, although Paige doesn’t let you get anymore than three feet away from her before she’s catching you by the wrist and pulling you into her. Her hands are cold against your cheeks as she kisses you gently, something deep and lingering and a confirmation that tastes like ‘you and I aren’t done here.’ The falling snow lands gently on your cheeks, melting under the heat of your blush, and you can’t help your smile, interrupting your kiss as the both of you dissolve into laughter. Paige kisses you again, something softer that leaves you feeling warm all over despite the chill, and you thank your Christmas miracle for leading you here.

[archie-sunshine]

Big things on the horizon everyone!! Here are all the merch design sketches i've got for this round of merch!!

lets zoom in and show a bit more, first off, we've got some old finished pieces possibly coming as clear backed stickers, bigger than my usual ones.

then, we've got my first TFA merch!! their casts are so big and i didnt want to miss anyone, but also more stickers means more overhead, so to keep prices down, I packed all of the lumps you could ever desire into two stickers, one for bots, and one for cons!

next, for some simpler more holiday themed ones, we've got bows on their big stupid foreheads bc i love love love them. these ones im not fully satisfied with, so you may see some changes to them in the final cut

AND FINALLY. What you've all been waiting for. full disclosure, I am only doing TEN (10) of EACH of these pillows for this round, thats what i can afford right now, but i'm mulling over doing limited 'pillow of the month' designs going forwards. THEY ARE ALSO ALL SFW (for now)(added some last minute definition to meggies face and arm oups)

so yeah!! thats what we're looking at for this round, lmk what y'all think!!

Edit: ALL OF THESE ARE NOW ON SALE LINK IN MY PINNED POST!

[aayakashii]

🎄 MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄

How will you 🫵 spend your holidays with the boys?

These headcanons are mostly non-Christmas specific activities so everyone can feel included, no matter if you celebrate Christmas or not!!

Credits for the cozy prompts here!

Credits for the gifs here!

Frostheim

Jin

Drinking mulled wine.

It reminds him of when he snuck a sip from his mom's cup – feeling his cheeks warm and his mind get fuzzy. It was worth the light scolding he always received. As he grew up, however, the drink didn't taste as joyous as it used to. The spices held memories that were too painful to touch. Until you shared your cup with him during one Christmas night. And as he took a sip of your wine under your soft gaze, his cheeks warmed, and his mind grew fuzzy once again. But maybe it wasn't the drink's fault.

Tohma

Bundling up and taking a walk.

Granted, he already does it on the daily, but there's a special thing in the air when the year is ending; and the cold is seeping through the thickest of clothes; and you're right there, beside him, with your hand gripping his as if it was your lifeline. He knows he has a lot more resistance to the cold than you, and he enjoys it to the fullest. Seeing you bundled up, almost drowning inside his coats, waddling beside him like a penguin – he loves it. You're so cute. You're lucky he's a gentleman now.

Kaito

Baking cookies.

He thinks there's nothing more romantic than baking sweets with the person he's in love with. Wants to go through all of the cliches with you – putting flour on each other's noses and cheeks, sneaking a taste before it's done, making awfully shaped cookies just for the fun of it... it's the date of his dreams. It's only fair he'll try his best to make something you can't forget either.

Luca

Playing board games.

It reminds him of home. Of late nights with his parents and his brother, playfully arguing over plenty of colorful boards and weird pieces. However, playing games with his family after his brother disappeared became hard. It took him some time to realize he could enjoy it again with you. One night, under the dim lights and to the sound of your laughter and playful bickering, he felt his chest grow warm and his eyes soften as he looked at you, sat right across from him. He felt like he could keep trying again.

Vagastrom

Alan

Taking a long nap.

When was the last time Alan let his guard down? As he curls himself up on his couch, he feels like it must have happened in another lifetime. He focuses on his own breathing and his slow heartbeat – the soft, weighted blanket you had given him protects him from the cold outside, and he catches his own eyelids drooping. He feels comfortable. He feels safe. Before he drifts into a calm sleep, he makes a mental note to gather enough courage to ask you to make him company next time.

Leo

Lighting scented candles.

Self care wasn't exactly a foreign subject for Leo. He knew all there was to know about it. Yet, one thing still remained special whenever winter came around: the holiday themed candles. Gingerbread, nutmeg, peppermint... He pushed every themed candle into your arms whenever you two went shopping during this time of the year. It was his guilty pleasure; one of the few things he actually got excited about. You just have to give in to his whims (and pray you have no allergies).

Sho

Visiting the Christmas market.

Sho can handle crowds easily. Better than you, that's for sure. So you trust him when he invites you to stroll through the market, knowing he'll keep your hand in his as you two look at all the trinkets for sale and all the stall foods. You get each other small gifts – Sho gives you a miniature motorcycle keychain, and you give him a new bandana (which he puts it on his head immediately). As you two walk leisurely, hand in hand, through the busy street, he selfishly wishes he could just stay in this moment forever.

Jabberwock

Haru

Knitting a warm sweater.

He just finds more and more work for himself, even when he tries to relax; as if his body is fueled on responsibilities he creates for himself. If you point it out, Haru will only laugh and say he just wants everyone to have their own matching, ugly sweater. And he's steadfast on his goal. He wants his fingerprints visible when he's creating his very own family. You wearing an ugly sweater he made is just the first step.

Towa

Watching romantic movies.

Is it surprising to know that Towa is probably the biggest Hallmark fan? He could watch a thousand of the same "workaholic woman moves to small town and finds love" movies, and still wouldn't get tired of them. He talks of how he wants to recreate the "airport kiss" scenes, the "kiss under the rain" scenes, and the "kiss in front of an entire city" scenes. You tell him you can't offer him that much, but you can give him a kiss for every godawful movie he forced you to watch. And that's more than enough for him.

Ren

Listening to podcasts.

He doesn't like Christmas. Not surprising, I know. He just thrives in being a hater, and hating Christmas is essential to his persona. He will never admit, however, how much he loves the holiday atmosphere, and how perfect it is to tune into his favorite horror podcasts during the chilly, dark winter. You don't even point out that Halloween was two months ago anymore. You just cozy up next to him, and under fairylights and mistletoes, you get ready to listen to his favorite monster stories.

Sinostra

Taiga

Watching the snow fall.

He feels like the white snow awaken old, softer memories of a time long gone. He lays his head on your lap as you two hide in one of the school building's balconies, observing the snowflakes slowly coat the grass outside. You gently card your fingers through his tousled hair. Maybe he doesn't need to remember anything else if he can keep the memory of this moment in his mind, forever.

Romeo

Wearing warm pajamas.

They're fuzzy, soft to the touch. He can even feel his shoulders sagging as you straighten his pajamas and gently massage his shoulders. No need to yell, no need to fight, no need to worry about things falling apart and through his fingers. He shares his skincare with you in silence, and you accept it, in silence as well. The hum of his air conditioner is enough noise to fill the small, cozy little space you had created for him.

Ritsu

Doing a jigsaw puzzle.

There are no strict rules, no correct way of playing. Just a simple task with a simple goal. For once, he feels like he can be in silence and just properly enjoy your company while you two build some generic scenery together. Ritsu can just be, without the need to prove himself the smartest or the best in order to justify the space he occupies. For two to three hours, it's just you and him and nothing else.

Hotarubi

Subaru

Drinking hot chocolate.

The contrast between the japanese ambiance of Hotarubi and how "western" Christmas feels never fails to amaze Subaru. His favorite part of Christmas, however, isn't the decoration: it's the food. The sweets. He loves to warm his hands with a huge mug of hot chocolate, blushing every time you plop a few more marshmallows in his beverage. You spoil him, shoving every little sweet treat you find in his hands. He promises to eat them all, but only if you always join him in his indulgence.

Haku

Reading a good book.

It's not hard for Haku to have a good day, holiday or not. He just wants to laze around and have you tucked under his arm. That's all there is to it. He looks up from the new book you had just given him as a Christmas gift, only to see you handing him a mug of hot chocolate. He smiles, setting the book and the mug aside, and taps the seat right next to him, effectively trapping you under his arm. If he's being honest, he doesn't really care about christmas, but man, does he love christmas with you.

Zenji

Decorating for the season.

While Subaru usually worries about contrasting decorations, Zenji makes sure to place fairylights in every tatami room as soon as winter comes. He drags you around the dorm, his official helper, while he hangs ribbons and bells and mistletoes in every wall. When you ask him if he's hanging mistletoes on the doorways on purpose though, he looks at you with wide-eyed curiosity – he had no idea what you meant. Was there some tradition he wasn't aware of? Well, you're more than happy to teach him.

Obscuary

Ed

Lazing around

It's hard to break his habits. You do manage to shoo him out of his room after announcing Rui and you would deep clean it, so it could be presentable during the new year. Ed is pretty sure you're scarred for life, but, well, you insisted, right? But it's the holiday time, and his undead heart feels a little bit for you. He invites you to stay at his now pristine room for a while, dragging you into a random, obscure youtube rabbit hole. At least his sheets are all clean.

Rui

Going ice-skating.

Isn't it the perfect date? Being able to show off his glorious skating abilities, all while being your knight in shining armor, ready to catch you if you fall. He loves the angry red of your nose and cheeks and the awe in your face as you look at the way the sun reflects on the ice. Rui can barely keep himself from smooching your face until you were red from his attention, not the cold. He can't wait to take you to a cafe date next.

Lyca

Doing arts and crafts.

He wants to give a gift to Santa, and who are you to say no when Lyca asks you for help? In fact, he wants to give gifts to everyone he knows as well: the blonde gigolo, moth eaten casanova, Harurin, Romi and you, of course. His room becomes a warzone of arts and crafts supplies – there's glitter, glue and colored paper everywhere. But cleaning doesn't even come to his mind as he gives you a cheeky grin, glitter all over his face, as he show you his little craft project for Santa. He'll catch him this year, for sure.

Mortkranken

Yuri

Listening to cozy playlists.

Holiday spirit is the one Yuri blames when he allows you to control the aux cord. He's so generous, only demanding that every song must be instrumental. His ears perk up while he works on his papers and you put some etheral music to play. Plastic Platina, you call it. He huffs. What a silly name. He wasn't expecting, however, to inadvertently hum to the repeating rhythm of the song, his work flowing a little more fluidly than he expected. Maybe he can give things other than classic a try. But only sometimes.

Jiro

Lounging by the fireplace.

His body feels a little cold most of the time. It's a common ailment of his after he had woken up from his coma. During winter, therefore, he allows himself to be dragged by your hands as you demand he sits in front of the fireplace. You place a weighted blanket on his shoulders and tuck it snuggly under his feet. You sit beside him, watching the fire crackle and nursing a mug of coffee. He looks at you, body flush against him and he feels his cheeks grow a litte warmer, much to his surprise. Being cold isn't so bad, when he has your company.

[duraante]

petty treason

dmc secret santa for @hopeworth !!!!!!! happy holidays !!!!!!!!!! (notes under cut)

@dmc-secret-santas

HI i was super excited to make this piece, you had a very short wishlist so i tried to integrate everything on there into this!! the idea was yamato 4dante mutual hurt comfort (more hurt than comfort but there is comfort nonetheless) and i consider this twin-centric as well because vergil is implied (his favourite past time must be haunting the narrative). i was on the fence about this idea until i found your yamato dante fic. it is gorgeous thank you so much. but i thought this must be fate!!!!!! so i went with it in the end.

if you look really hard there is blood, it has actually been quite a long time since i started this piece so i lowkey forgot what it was for. something along the lines of some mutual blame between these two, which ultimately stems from self-blame. i think yamato n dante are quite alike in that regard, they both believe they have on their hands the blood of the one they love the most. but anyway. the comfort is from the fact that they have each other to share that one-of-a-kind pain with.

petty treason involves murder of a master by a servant, the punishment for which was typically drowning for women (sorry no citation here, i did this research a while ago and can no longer find it. in fact i am now finding information that directly contradicts this. oSORRY iam a bad essayist i am far from an arts major). thats why yamato is in the sea here i guess. punishment for men included hanging, i wanted to extend this idea of treason to dante as well, so i tried to have the water splash up to form a noose around his neck. it failed evidently LMAO but. anhyway. take it from me guys. sketch drafts that actually make sense.

i rambled a bit HAHA sorry havent been online in like a month (dura touch grass era) i promise im not dead i wil come back soon. merry xmas, may your boxing day sales be plenty

[hotvintagepoll]

Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster (From Here to Eternity, The Gypsy Moths)—no propaganda submitted

Zasu Pitts and Thelma Todd (Let's Do Things, Catch as Catch Can)—[a Vanity Fair article was submitted that was paywalled, so I'm putting the text of it under the cut]

This is round 1 of a mini Christmas tournament. Each poll lasts for three days. If you'd like to send additional propaganda supporting your favorite hot couple, you can reblog this post with your propaganda added, send it to my asks, or tag me in it. To vote in all the polls, click here. Happy holidays!

[additional propaganda under the cut]

Pitts and Todd:

Here is the text of the Vanity Fair article that was submitted, written by Donald Liebenson:

Before Lucy and Ethel, Laverne and Shirley, or Mary and Rhoda, there were Thelma Todd and Zasu Pitts. Separately, they were journeymen character actors in 1930s Hollywood. Together, they became the first major female comedy team, appearing in shorts that found them bonded as friends and career women struggling to make it on their own—the Depression-era answer to Abbi and Ilana of Broad City.

Over a two-year period, they made 17 shorts rarely seen since their theatrical release—and now collected for Thelma Todd & Zasu Pitts: The Hal Roach Collection 1931-33, a two-DVD set. They’re revelatory viewing, progressive, and proto-feminist portrayals of two career girls in the big city, defiantly dependent on each other.

Hal Roach, the legendary producer who teamed up Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, envisioned Todd and Pitts as a female equivalent to his marquee stars. Blonde-bombshell Todd was a beauty queen plucked from Massachusetts by a talent scout and brought to Hollywood in the 1920s, where she primarily played comic relief in other people’s films. Kansas-born Pitts was a prolific character actress, so typecast as a comedienne that few directors took her seriously for dramatic roles (though her finest hours were in Erich von Stroheim’s epic, Greed). The contrast between them was more about character than looks. Todd was brash and confident, and Pitts a more dithery presence; think Olive Oyl.

“They have gumption; they’re unflappable,” explained Molly Haskell, film critic and author of the seminal book From Reverence to Rape: The Treatment of Women in the Movies. “They’re looking out for each other; you could just feel the value of the twosome. . . . They are modern women. Hopefully, they will rise to the top—but in the meantime, they’re just going to wing it and figure things out.”

The duo’s first short, Let’s Do Things, establishes their dynamic. Thelma and Zasu promote sheet-music sales in a department store. Pitts moons over her boyfriend, but a disapproving Thelma prompts her to remember why the two came to New York in the first place. “To advance ourselves, to meet the best people, and to do big things,” Pitts responds. By the end of the short, the boyfriend gets a pie in the face, courtesy of Todd.

“They’re always going to have each other’s back,” Haskell noted. “I don’t think there’s any of the shorts where they fight over a man.”

Todd and Pitts’s gender alone made them somewhat revolutionary in their day. Comedy teams were primarily the province of men: the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges, Laurel and Hardy. “Slapstick was what men loved, and women didn’t because the whole core of it was tearing things up,” Haskell said. “It was chaotic and women wanted order. The defense of the domestic was a woman’s role . . . and slapstick violated the sense of order and decency and uprightness. They didn’t find it funny.”

But Todd and Pitts were both game for the physical stuff. In Let’s Do Things, Todd suffers a throw-about throttling from a quack osteopath; in the courtroom comedy Sneak Easily, juror Pitts throws a murder trial into chaos when she swallows a piece of the evidence—an explosive.

But in their best shorts (which, like the rest of their work, were written and directed by men), the mayhem is mostly in the service of a female narrative, observed film historian Jeanine Basinger. “It’s situational comedy,” she said. “If you’re going to make a plot centered around women, what the heck is she going to do just sitting around the house? They have to get out there in some way. . . . When you look at these films, what you see is what [the creators] thought was a good comedy female situation in that era. You have the chaos over Zasu’s hat in the boxing arena in Catch-as Catch-Can, the high-society party in which they are fish out of water in The Pajama Party, and the department-store melee in The Bargain of the Century. . . . The American woman on film is really a pretty active person, unless she is just stooging it in a male genre. Things have to happen to them, and they have to react. These shorts reflect that very clearly.”

More than 80 years on, the Todd-Pitts shorts play surprisingly well. Their appeal, talent, and chemistry elevate even the most dated material. “I like [Todd and Pitts] so much, and enjoy watching them,” said Leonard Maltin, author of the recently published anthology, Hooked on Hollywood: Discoveries from a Lifetime of Film Fandom and the essential 1970 book Movie Comedy Teams.

“I cannot tell a lie: the shorts are not all good. The gag men had a hard time coming up with suitable material that wouldn’t de-feminize them or make them look outlandishly unladylike, but [Todd and Pitts] play well today because [the characters] aren’t so different from two young women trying to make their way in the world in 2018. The struggles they have by and large tend not to be sexist. If they lose a job, they are comically inept, or it’s a blown opportunity.”

Max and Caroline of 2 Broke Girls, which ran for six seasons on CBS earlier this decade, could be the granddaughters of Thelma and Zasu. Beth Behrs, who played fallen privileged high-society woman Caroline, formed a formidable odd-couple relationship with Max (Kat Dennings), a street-smart waitress trying to start her own cupcake business. Their chemistry, Behrs said, was instant, and their real-life friendship informed their on-screen rapport over the show’s six seasons.

Though the actress was previously unfamiliar with Todd and Pitts, she watched a couple of their shorts on YouTube and saw a kinship with those aspirational woman. “It was important [Caroline and Max] were full-fledged women who really were entrepreneurs,” she said. “We never had a love interest for more than a season. It wasn’t about finding a man; it was about loving each other and building the business from nothing, and the two of them going after the American Dream together.”

For Todd and Pitts, the dream ended when Zasu left the team in 1933. Hal Roach replaced her with Patsy Kelly. Todd, who had appeared in some Laurel and Hardy shorts, is perhaps best known today for her two films with the Marx Brothers, Monkey Business and Horse Feathers. Her career was tragically cut short in 1935 when at the age of 29 she was found dead in her car. A grand jury ruled her death a suicide, but that did not explain bruises around her throat, a broken nose, and other injuries; her death remains one of Hollywood’s unsolved mysteries.

What do these 80-plus-year-old shorts have to tell us in 2018? “They show us what all old movies show us,” Basinger said. “They show us how it was, and they show us how it is. . . . We can see attitudes, we can see women out in the world doing things, having ideas and speaking out. And they show us how we are today.”

Two Broke Girls ended its run in 2017. Behrs currently stars with Max Greenfield and Cedric the Entertainer in another CBS comedy, The Neighborhood, about a white couple that moves into a predominantly black neighborhood. The first season’s initial episodes have already glimpsed the comic possibilities in her character’s relationship with her next-door neighbor (Cedric’s wife), played by Tichina Arnold. “There is an electricity between us,” Behrs said. “The writers saw it, and are exploring turning us into a Lucy and Ethel.”

[anystalker707]

Catch me when I fall

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Being stuck in a small city with barely any service during the business rush of the holidays feels like hell when you're an agent of a great company. Tags: very generic, cliche, cheesy christmas plot / very very very sweet / comfort / decorating christmas cookies / watching christmas lights / ice skating / christmas activities

requested by ms rain the queen herself @bimbo-baggins17

MASTER LIST

          Christmas wasn’t important. Well, actually, it was, when it came to numbers. Profits went high, people and sales everywhere, and you’d usually always be the one going on business trips for the company, going around to sign contracts or take pictures shaking hands with people to seal business deals and keep the appearances.

Business kept your mind busy during the holidays, set on what needed to get done, away from distractions. The November-January period was busy, much like June-August, so the main difference was simply the weather and decorations.

This year’s destination seemed nice—a little, cozy city that made its profits mainly during the holiday season because of tourism, and encouraging small businesses was the company’s great aim this time. The pictures of you with the mayor and other local authorities were everywhere by now for the new campaign.

Everything was going great. Maybe a little too great to be true.

“The road’s blocked?” You blinked a couple of times, taking a deep breath.

“Well, you see…” The driver cleared his throat and coughed, looking away, looking at the cars that eventually passed down the frozen streets, though there weren’t many. Not in such a small city.  “The weather was too intense, so the bridge’s under maintenance. It will take a while to fix since we gotta make sure it’s safe ‘n all, y’know. Gotta have a good weather t’work.”

Something felt like it was about to snap inside you. There was going to be another important meeting in two days. “What about the other exit? Plane? Boat? Helicopter?”

The driver flinched a little more with each word. “Look, Mx., I really believe the best’s t’wait. M’bad, but safety comes first, y’know? ‘N the city’s small. No other exit.” He shrugged as he leaned back against the car, but quickly fished his phone out of his pocket with a sigh. “Look, Mx., I really gotta go. Y’got my number ‘lready. Y’gonna know when the bridge’s fixed, then y’can call me. Uh—” He paused before he answered his phone. “There’s a lil’ inn there, good prices.”

He didn’t spare another word, pressing the phone to his ear and getting in the car before he slammed the door shut, and the car sped away with a rhythmic sound of something loose, leaving you standing alone in the cold streets with your suitcase. Fuck. You had planned to stay in a hotel in the state’s capital, not… there.

You finally found the sign hanging from a large building, black letters on light brown wood saying ‘Donna’s inn’ in cursive. The wooden building seemed cozy, surrounded by dark green pine trees and deep red decorations that matched the ornaments along the light posts that decorated the street, with the touch of accumulated snow. It hadn’t snowed so much since you arrived in the city by the morning, but it was noticeable the weather had been harsh lately. Now that you think of it, the drive into the city took longer than expected, and the line of cars seemed explainable now, given the bridge’s situation.

A sigh escaped your lips. It is what it is.

          The nice smell of gingerbread cookies and cherry pie greeted you the moment you stepped past the door, welcoming you with a warmth that gave your nerves a break from all the trembling—a little piece of heaven in the middle of nowhere. Small cities felt claustrophobic when you were used to big centers.

You inhaled to call for someone when an old lady showed up behind the counter in a red dress and a dark green apron with a nice print of white polka dots around the edges, which matched her mitten. “Oh, hello, dear, good afternoon! What can I do for you?” She adjusted her glasses with her free hand.

“Oh, hi,” you said with a nod, observing the flour fingerprints on her lenses for a moment. “I’d like a room. Uh, until the bridge’s fixed. However long that takes…” You sighed.

A crease showed up between her brows, and the lady sighed. “Everyone knew that was going to happen. I—” A clanking sound came from the kitchen, along with a patterned beeping. “Give me a moment, dear, I’ll fetch your keys. Make yourself comfortable, huh?” She smiled warmly before walking through the door, which you presumed to lead to the kitchen, leaving you alone in the reception.

The room was cozy and warm, with a fire, an armchair, and a couch. Christmas decorations hung everywhere, a nice jar with some flowers sat on the side table, and the carpet seemed to be picked out for the holiday season as well. Red, white, and green were practically everywhere, aside from when they gave place to the golden wallpaper. Whoever took care of the place did it well.

You left your suitcase near the counter to step closer to the window, observing the darkening sky, the snow accumulating on top of trees and houses—

“Fuck!” Your heart almost jumped out of your chest when a figure emerged outside, making you take a step back, but damn, it was just a man. He had a few layers of sweaters and a hood on as his gloved fingers tried to untangle a line of Christmas lights. The dumbass— Fuck, he didn’t even notice you standing there, almost having a heart attack as you held your chest and gripped the window sill with your free hand, trying to catch your breath.

Blue eyes glanced at you once, then twice, before they widened in realization. “Did I scare you?” He mouthed, letting out an awkward chuckle when you nodded. “Sorry.”

The man leaned forward to look at the counter through the window before he let the Christmas lights down, and the next thing you knew was that he was walking through the front door, exhaling as he brushed the snow off his shoulders and took the hood off, tucking it somewhere behind the counter along with his gloves.

Now that you took a better look at him… Fuck, if he had a sharp suit on, you’d easily mistake him for one of the great businessmen you didn’t even dare to look at directly. Tall, handsome, and intimidating even in his gentleness.

“So…” He cleared his throat, grabbing a book from behind the counter. “A room?”

You blinked a couple of times and looked past him, but the door to the kitchen was still closed. “You work here?”

“Maintenance guy. A little bit of everything, really. I fill in when Mrs. Lee is busy in the kitchen,” he said with a shrug as he grabbed a pen. “So?”

Reality dawned once more, making you sigh for the thousandth time of the day, rubbing your temple. “A room. Until the bridge’s fixed.”

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, eyes raking over you swiftly. “Oh, shucks, big city kid.” Something in it sounded like mockery, but you left it at that, only watching him grab a key that hung on the wall and check the number on the tag before writing something in the notebook. “Uuh, sign your name here, also write down your number,” he said as he turned the notebook towards you, handing you the pen. “Room number twenty-five. Very Christmas-y.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head to yourself. As if it had to do with anything. Irrelevant. After checking your information a last time, you handed the pen back. “Is there any fee?”

“Nope,” he said. “As long as you don’t run away during the night.” A chuckle escaped his lips, but you didn’t share the humor, and he didn’t mind it, simply taking the notebook back and nodding to himself. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” He walked around the counter in long strides and reached for your suitcase, not caring that you were already holding the handle. “Leave it with me, sweetheart. You seem tired.”

His gaze held yours for a longer moment, blue eyes warm. His hand covered yours to squeeze it gently. The touch was so warm and caring, and fuck, did he call you sweetheart? That— Damn, you were supposed to—

“Sweetheart?” He called from the hall, and you cursed yourself while rushing after him. He stopped in front of a door, the frame lined with red and white decorations that made you think of candy cane and holiday profits off decorations. Your suitcase was by his feet as he unlocked the door. He was so annoying, suddenly. Something about the way he stood, spoke, talked to you…

“Do you have a name, or are you just the maintenance guy?”

Maybe the bitterness was easy to notice. He raised his eyebrows lightly as he looked at you and handed the keys over. “It’s Hayden.” He smiled softly. “Uh, dinner’s from seven-thirty until nine. Self-service, with pretty much all kinds of options. No extra fees charged. Breakfast is from seven to nine, and lunch is from eleven to one,” he said before he paused, rubbing his chin lightly. “Just a tip, but since you’re staying until the bridge’s new again, then maybe you should check the city lights at some point. If you need me, ‘m just down the hall, sweetheart.” Hayden winked before walking down the hall, probably going back to fixing the Christmas lights or anything.

Damn. He looked so… Ugh, you weren’t supposed to pay attention to those things. Reality barged in again within seconds, preventing you from just stupidly standing there while looking at where Hayden had disappeared.

          The mess hall was quite cozy, making it feel like a big family was eating together despite the different tables. A sweet smell of something being prepared for later came from the kitchen when you walked past the door, catching a glimpse of the old lady—Mrs. Lee—with another younger woman with aprons and bowls. And yeah, they did a great job. Hayden wasn’t lying when he said there were a lot of options.

Quite a few other guests had lunch at the inn, enough to fill the mess hall with quiet chatter and the clinking of ceramic against ceramic, but still, not enough people to fill out all the tables, leaving a four-seat one free for you.

Your phone rested beside your plate, ever loading, unresponsive with the bad signal that’d been pestering you ever since you woke up. Those dark clouds in the sky didn’t seem promising at all, though.

“Oh, look at who’s here!” The sudden voice made you look up to see Hayden approaching with a plate of food to take a seat across from you. “Didn’t see you during breakfast.” He raised an eyebrow, picking up the cutlery.

You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head. “I had gone to check if the bridge was fixed, or if I could find another way to leave,” you exhaled, pushing your food around the plate a little before finally taking another bite.

Hayden hummed as he nodded slowly. “Not successful, I presume.” He only smiled at the glare—that damn smile. “Why the rush? Going back home to see family for Christmas?”

“No!” You scoffed. As if you’d go back home right at that time of the year when business is so agitated. “I have an important meeting in two days. It’s important for the company, and I can barely get enough signal to let anyone know that I’m stuck here, though, hopefully, the bridge’s news will reach them.”

A crease showed up between Hayden’s eyebrows as he looked at you, swallowing before he could speak up. “What could be that important that you couldn’t enjoy Christmas with your family?” He paused and cleared his throat. “Sorry, that sounded too intrusive. I mean—” he paused. “What could be so important that you would rather work than enjoy Christmas?”

After a moment of staring at Hayden—at that stupidly handsome face—, you took a deep breath. “How else is the market supposed to keep running if people like me weren’t active during the Holidays? I mean, things can’t just stop completely.”

Hayden raised his eyebrows as he hummed slowly, that attitude from the first day coming back already. How entertaining could it be to mock you? Honestly… “Not so lucky, it seems.” And you sighed, about to say something when he looked at you. “However, you’re actually lucky to be here to see the city’s Christmas festivities.”

You shot him the same mocking look. “How productive.”

A hint of exasperation crossed his face before Hayden shrugged. “Better than just sitting there, since you can’t work or anything anyway.” And a small, fake apologetic smile crossed his face because he knew exactly how much of a low blow his words were, then proceeded to go back to eating as if nothing had happened. He even had the audacity to look at you with an inquiring gaze, blinking a couple of times as he still smiled, munching on his food, and you had to hold yourself back from wiping that look off his face. Whatever it took…

          Most of the guests left after lunch to explore the city or anything else related to Christmas, but there was barely anything you could do when the signal was so bad and the bridge wasn’t fixed yet. After being trapped in your room for long enough, you decided to lounge a little in the reception, given the warmth of the fireplace and the snacks in the glass jars, but you found yourself standing by the window and watching sparse snow fall. Being trapped in that city made you think of all the reports you could be writing, all the e-mails that must be flooding your inbox, the missed calls, unanswered messages…

“Oh, you’re still around, sweetheart,” the voice cut through your thoughts. Was Hayden everywhere? Though you didn’t mind seeing him, even if he wore that ugly sweater, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and an apron much like the one Mrs. Lee and her helper were using. Where did all that charm come from? “Got nothing to do?”

“No.” It sounded heavier than intended, but the frustration was real.

“Maybe you could help me with decorating some cookies?” Hayden raised his eyebrows a little. “Mrs. Lee left last minute and said I could decorate this batch, and since you’re around so melancholic like that… ‘Could be a good way to pass the time.”

Cooking was far from the reality of paperwork, meetings, and screens that filled your life, and that reality only hit you now that you imagined yourself in a kitchen, decorating cookies. Christmas cookies.

“It’ll be fun, I swear,” Hayden said before you could overthink, and maybe it worked, because he soon had an arm wrapped around your shoulders while guiding you behind the counter and into the kitchen, also decorated in a Christmas theme, wide, with enough apparel to attend the demand of three daily meals for the inn’s guests. The surface of the island’s stainless steel counter was covered in cookies. “We have gingerbread men, trees, snowflakes, and icing in different colors,” he said as he grabbed one of the aprons that hung on the wall. Dark green, polka dots details. “There we go.”

Hayden slipped the top part around your head and stood behind you to gently tie the straps around your waist, fingers brushing against you gently. “Well, aren’t you just cute?”

Cute? Out of your element and dressing something like that? But he said it in such a smooth voice and genuine appreciation. How even were you supposed to feel about that? The embarrassment and confusion must’ve been evident, given the chuckle you earned from him.

“Uh, thanks,” you muttered with uncertainty, trying to move past the situation as you washed your hands in the sink.

“Let’s start with the gingerbread men, how’s that sound?” Hayden clapped before he grabbed one of the bags with icing and pulled the closest cookie closer, glancing at you with those pretty blue eyes.

Focus. You took a deep breath before adjusting the icing in your hands, trying to find any position that made it feel more natural, or at least… less difficult to decorate those cookies and make something that didn’t look ugly. Unfortunately, measuring the pressure and coordinating things was a little too hard, making you curse under your breath when the white icing started falling off the side of the cookie.

Hayden looked at you once, twice, then hummed before rushing over. “Oh, fuck, it’s okay, sweetheart. Happens to the best of us,” he said before he moved to next to you—a little too close, but not unpleasantly. He took the cookie from the counter, wiping the extra icing off the counter with his free hand before he licked his fingers clean, his lips wrapping around his middle and ring finger…

Blue eyes met yours, and Hayden raised his eyebrows lightly. “Tastes good,” he whispered as if it were a secret before licking the white remnants off his lips and wiping his fingers on the apron. “Well, the thing is, you have to hold it like this and do not apply pressure on the bottom, okay? Not a lot, at least.” He set the ruined cookie aside before wrapping his arms around you, hands over yours ever so gently, his face next to yours, so close you could catch a faint hint of cigarettes in his breath. “Careful, sweetheart. We want pretty cookies, hm? I’m sure you can make some as pretty as you.”

And you didn’t know whether it was Hayden or you actually doing the thing because your brain could barely process anything but every point where your bodies touched, and his words still swam across your mind. Nonetheless, you still had to put some minimum effort into it so that you didn’t look like a complete fool.

“There we go. This one looks cuter, don't you think?” Hayden tilted his head before his eyes met yours. So close. “I knew I was making a good choice by asking you to help me. Well, let’s go back to work. Try not to waste anything, okay?”

Even out of your element, even if you’d laugh if someone told you yesterday that you’d be doing that today, decorating the cookies with him, it gave you some sense of home, even if you never grasped the concept properly before. It felt like a glimpse of a life you’d have if things had gone differently in the past. Living in a small city, being married, doing the simple things, it all felt so distant.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Hayden’s voice cut through your thoughts before you nodded, finishing organizing the cookies so that the icing could dry before they were put in jars. There was a clear distinction between the ones you decorated and the ones Hayden decorated.

You nodded. “Yeah, just lost in thought,” you said softly, giving him a small smile, a forced one, for the sake of the moment. He smiled back with an understanding nod, and none of you really seemed to be truthful.

“Well,” Hayden took a deep breath as he nudged a cookie into place before placing his hand on top of yours. “I know you’re very frustrated. Being stuck in a city like this, nothing like what you’re used to, away from a lot of things, it might feel at least,” he paused, seeming to think for a word, “claustrophobic, but it doesn’t have to be totally bad.” He glanced down at your joined hands before nodding with a hum. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “I’m very thankful for your help. We were a great duo today.” And you couldn’t even continue your overthinking, not when he sent you that smile.

Everything was organized again, back into place or put away, aside from the cookies that waited for the icing to dry. Having the moment slipping through your fingers gave you a weird sensation in your chest, almost an ache.

“Let me help you,” Hayden said softly, and his hands grazed your back again as he untied the apron, always so caring and attentive, with some sort of tenderness that only seemed unreal until now. How real could it be, though? “Do you want to go with me to the rink someday?” He always interrupted your thoughts in the best-worst moments, as if he had a sixth sense or something. “Ice skating can be boring when you’re alone, y’know.”

“Ice skating?” You furrowed your eyebrows. Far from your usual activities. “What if something needs maintenance by then? Will you just be away, ice skating?”

“Normal humans don’t work the whole time, I’m not sure if you know that.”

You blinked slowly, glaring. How could someone be so annoying and nice all at the same time? Far from your usual conversations. “And what if there’s service before we can go? Maybe the bridge’s already fixed by then.”

Hayden scoffed. “Yeah, no. This is no New York—”

“New York isn’t—”

“—so the best you can do is really just wait patiently. You may not see how you can make it better, but making it worse won’t help either,” he said slowly, holding eye contact. Part of you wondered where all that patience came from. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound patronizing, but caring instead.

Despite how annoying it was to admit it, Hayden was right. Just staring at the ever-loading circle on your phone or laptop screen while stressing every second that went by didn’t seem so helpful, and even if the bridge did happen to get fixed and service suddenly came back, you wouldn’t be able to solve everything in a snap of fingers either. Damn it. Rationality felt like defeat, even if there wasn’t anything to lose.

A hand rested on your shoulder, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. Intentionally or not, Hayden did a good job at comforting you.

You had to use every ounce of strength to avert your eyes away from his, trying to find something interesting in observing all those colorful cookies, anything that didn’t show his reaction. “When’s the rink open?” You asked, voice strained through all those feelings.

Hayden’s approval simmered in the air before his voice replaced it. “Uh, this weekend, if I’m not wrong.”

“What?” You widened your eyes at him. “It’s Monday!”

Despite your panic, he laughed. “You overestimate some things ‘round here.”

          You rubbed your forehead, observing the fire flicker in the fireplace, trying to think about anything other than checking your phone. Your brain melted like the marshmallows in the cup. “Now, what’s this again?”

Hayden sat on the armchair beside yours, ankle on his knee, hanging out with you in the inn’s lounge while Mrs. Lee cooked in the kitchen to the sound of cheerful Christmas songs on the radio. The inn wasn’t so agitated during the afternoons, the space between lunch and dinner always filled with a nice calmness, even if everything still gave you a small sense of unease. Some of your emails had been delivered through the night, but service was still too slow to let you check all the updates properly. At least someone knew you weren’t dead or something.

“Chilling.”

You feigned a smile. “Uh huh, wow.”

“Do you like the hot chocolate though?”

“Well,” you tutted, “it's not bad.” Giving in was hard, but you didn't want to be unpleasant either. After all, Hayden was just being nice so far, despite the attitude… “What's this? A streak of Christmas activities? Christmas to-do list?” You grabbed the mug from the small side table, taking a look at the exaggerated Santa Claus design. “Is everything over here Christmas-themed?”

Hayden looked around, from the ceiling to the floor, before looking down at himself, then at you. “Uh, I suppose you aren't Christmas-themed.”

“You’re so funny.” You sighed and sipped on the hot drink.

“Thank you.” Hayden tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face for a moment. His tongue darted out to lick his lips before he spoke up. “Any success contacting your company or something?”

“Actually, yes!” You replied a bit too fast, but he smiled. “It seems like my email was sent! I received a few, but they won’t load, unfortunately. At least they have time to rescue me or send someone else in my place.”

Hayden nodded slowly. “That eases part of your stress, right? Now that they know, you don’t need to keep observing your phone your whole time.” His hand found yours before you could grab the phone, warm fingers enveloping yours and giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Come on, staying here isn’t all that bad, you’re just…” He paused, shrugging. “…not used to slowing down like this,” he said each word carefully and nodded after noticing you didn’t complain, but how could you think about anything other than how nice his hand felt around yours? His thumb gently tracing your knuckles in such a nice, loving way.

“Hayden?” Mrs. Lee showed up from the door to the kitchen. “Think you can buy me some more sprinkles, deary? I need those.” She adjusted her glasses, squeezing her eyes while bringing up an empty wrapper. “The red and green ones. Silver or golden will do just fine if it’s sold out already.” She waved it a little, compelling Hayden to stand up with a soft sigh and retrieve the plastic bag, letting the cold air replace the warmth of his hand around yours. “You know they opened the Christmas expo near the glass house, hm? You should take your partner with you.”

Hayden glanced back at you, your eyes meeting for what were just seconds but felt like an eternity. His partner…? You couldn’t afford to have a partner, no matter how appealing the idea sounded. Despite the shared look, he just nodded at Mrs. Lee before he pocketed the wrapper and made a motion for you to follow as he walked to the door, seeming pleased when you stood up. Well, it was no use arguing with Mrs. Lee over something so insignificant, right?

Gentle hands helped you into your coat, delicately adjusting the lapel. “Let’s go.” Hayden waited for you to make sure you were ready before he held the door open. “She’s probably preparing donuts. You gotta try them on, even if you’re not into donuts.”

You hummed with a nod, watching your breath turn into steam in the cold air, before avoiding slipping on the frozen part of the sidewalk became your new focus. 

“Easy there,” Hayden said as his hand immediately grabbed your upper arm until you were steady enough for his hand to drop to your waist. “Good, sweetheart?” His hand pressed firmly against your waist, and you couldn’t help but gravitate to his side. After all, Hayden was so warm, and his presence gave that sense of protection. Comfort. Naming it was hard.

“Yeah,” you said softly, glancing at him. He didn’t let go of you, and you didn’t push him away either.

The walk was silent, and you didn’t do much besides following Hayden around the little convenience store and accepting the warm cup of coffee he bought for you, and another for himself. A shiver ran down your spine as you two left the store, leaving behind the muffled talk with a background sound of distorted voices among the TV’s white noise and warmth, replaced by the silence brought by the snow accumulated on the streets and steam rising from the coffee cups, their warmth pleasantly penetrating your glove. Mrs. Lee’s sprinkles were safe inside the pocket of Hayden’s jacket, leaving his hands free for you and the coffee.

“Let’s take a different way back.” Hayden’s hand went from your waist to your hand to guide you into the street you would’ve otherwise walked past, and you followed with a light groan when your coffee almost spilled over. “They always decorate the square nicely. Last year, the decoration was a little… weird. The angels— They were supposed to look like angels, but were more like ghosts,” he said with a chuckle, grin widening once he noticed your smile.

“Oh? That’s…”

“I don’t think the decorator thought it through,” he said, clicking his tongue, that charming smile still across his face. Fuck, he made you feel such things. “But it’s beautiful this year.” He sipped on the coffee, finishing it before he tossed the empty cup into a trash can, and you did the same. Appreciating the decoration would be better without the coffee to worry about.

Golden and silver lights lined the trees and light posts, fading out a little until they became bright again, giving a cozy vibe to the square. Just like Mrs. Lee had said, there was, indeed, a building with big, glass windows, lined with lights as well. The Christmas tree was made out of golden LED lights with a pretty star on top, and there was a tunnel of silver lights and stars hanging in it… Everything was far from the extravagant decorations you were used to, but something about it gave you a comfort you’d never felt. It was scary, overwhelming, like it would burst out of your chest, explode, and…

“It’s beautiful,” Hayden said as he walked through the tunnel with you, his hand down your arm until his hands found yours then gently intertwined your fingers, grip firm and caring. “I’m glad it’s beautiful this year, so you don’t have a bad impression about our town,” he whispered.

Your gaze averted to him briefly, and you nodded faintly, unable to look away from the stars that hung in the tunnel of slowly twinkling lights for too long, accompanying Hayden in unhurried steps. Everything is so different, and it didn’t feel like you’d expected it to be—like you’d feared. You stopped by the end of the tunnel, afraid that magic would disappear if you stepped out of it, so you just stood there, by the end, a step away from all that daily stress, anxiety, and bullshit.

“You know, it is so—” The words escaped your grasp when your eyes averted to Hayden, and he was already looking at you. Something about his gaze made your heart skip a beat. He offered a smile, but it only helped your brain malfunction more, and the only thing you could give in return was to squeeze his hand back after his fingers tightened a little around yours. You exhaled, trying to look at anything other than Hayden, maybe at the… mistletoe.

Hayden’s eyebrows raised as he followed your gaze, eventually noticing the mistletoe, which seemed like the most important thing in the world until your eyes met again, hesitant, expectant, something like that. How could you ignore the pull? The sweet gaze that seemed to look right through you…

How it happened didn’t matter, not when Hayden’s lips pressed to yours, and only now did you notice how much you’d wanted it to happen, now that his arms wrapped around your waist and your body molded against his so perfectly, and no kiss had ever felt that good, never made your heart beat like that.

His lips were as gentle as they appeared, making you feel better than any good millionaire deal made on Christmas ever could, and it felt pathetic now to think that your Christmases had been filled with that until now. Felt stupid. Was that how everyone else saw you? As someone stupid? Because it didn’t feel very wise to have spent all that time drowning yourself in work, just work, not even enjoying all those places you’d traveled to, and fuck. No, no, that was your life. You couldn’t throw away all those years because it wasn’t stupid. A few kisses wouldn’t keep money running, people employed, and money in their accounts.

It hurt when Hayden’s lips sought after yours after you pulled away, but it was needed. You hadn’t gotten so far—dedicated so many years—just for that, but you couldn’t help letting your hands linger on his chest before finally stepping back and looking away. Falling in love was too far off the question, too much for someone like you. 

Not much was left to be said.

          “Oh, honey, good morning,” Mrs. Lee said as soon as she saw you by the main table to grab some breakfast, adjusting the thick glasses that made her green eyes seem a lot bigger, but in an endearing way. “Has Hayden told you?”

Just hearing his name made your heart skip a beat, making you thankful you weren’t holding your mug with hot coffee. It wasn’t like you did anything wrong. Get a fucking grip. “Uh, told me about what?”

“The bridge, honey!” She clapped her hands together. “It’s fixed!”

“Fixed?!”

“You can go home!” Mrs. Lee seemed happier than you, patting your shoulder before she rushed into the kitchen as soon as a beeping sound cut through the chatter and clinking of porcelain. Not that it was too hard to be happier than you—or anything at all more than you—given the mess of sentiments swirling inside you like… Ugh, not everything is like something else. Maybe all those feelings were starting to take up food’s space, making your appetite vanish, but you still grabbed a cookie, since Mrs. Lee could be watching. That cookie looked awfully familiar.

Focus. The bridge. You had to find that driver’s card somewhere in your things.

“Gonna pack up, sweetheart?” Hayden almost gave you a heart attack, standing there when you turned into the hallway, and you wanted to smash his face when he chuckled at your reaction.

“I mean, the bridge’s fixed.” It took you a long moment to gather your thoughts, take them away from how loving and gentle he is, and the kiss was so perfect— Get a grip. “Can’t waste time.”

Hayden took in a breath to say something, but he ended up replacing it with a sigh when you walked past him, shaking his head to himself. “Well, let me drive you to the city, then?” He followed. “I can take you there in a second, no charges.” And it was easy for him to take long strides to stand between you and the room’s door.

Seriousness swam in blue irises, like you’d never seen before, sending a shiver down your spine, and the silence it created was heavy and oppressing. Hayden made you feel weak, but not like the powerful, grumpy bosses would—no, that was like hell, but this? You actually wanted more of it, more of him. If only it didn’t mean putting so many things at stake. Damn him, for seeing right through you with those beautiful eyes and charming smile.

“What?” You asked as if your tongue was made out of lead.

Hayden gave you a look, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to throw yourself in your arms or run to the capital without even getting your bag back from the room, and that same indecision kept you rooted on the ground.

“I don’t want to force you into anything,” Hayden said softly. “But I really don’t want to lose this. You know what I’m talking about,” he continued, despite how you looked at the ceiling, thankful there wasn’t another mistletoe around, but his sigh made your heart ache. Giving up seemed easy until things started slipping through your fingers. “At least keep your promise? The rink opened today.”

Low blow. How were you supposed to resist that voice tone? Not even risky deals had your stomach doing flips like that. Damn. Work.

“I don’t…”

“Will some hours really make a difference?” Hayden moved into your sight. His gaze always carried that softness and intensity at the same time, perfectly balanced. “I mean, it’s okay if it does make a difference, but I want to make sure.” A heavy pause. “You showed up out of nowhere and made Christmas feel different for once in a lifetime. I just…” Maybe you weren’t the only one who had a lot going on. “I can’t just let this go without even trying first. I— You know what I’m saying. Or at least trying to.”

It felt like forever ago, uselessly arguing with that driver while he pointed at the inn, and you had been doing everything and going everywhere with Hayden ever since, sometimes just sitting there and watching him do something as mundane as fix the heaters. It had been such an experience. Worrying about anything other than deadlines, calls, e-mails, signatures. Nonetheless, Hayden had never looked that vulnerable during all this time; he was always strong and caring, as if he was smoothly encouraging you through what seemed to be the most difficult terrain ever—standing on thin ice as if he belonged there while you walked over pointy rocks, preferring the comfort of the wounds you already knew.

“I don’t know how to skate,” you muttered quietly. You’d dealt with so much shame for not having done such trivial tasks during these past days, so admitting it didn’t feel like punching through a wall anymore.

“I will catch you.” The promise meant more than just for skating.

          Taking Hayden’s hand felt like stepping into the darkness, but his words from earlier still rang through your mind, and he was right. You didn’t want this to end in regrets, either.

The rink was crowded, with people gathered in small groups while kids ran around and Christmas songs played in the background, ones you’d grown familiar with lately. Warm Christmas lights reflected on the snow, illuminating the place, despite the moon already being high in the sky. Hayden made sure to keep an arm around you, protectively guiding you through the people. He was so caring and gentle while helping you put the skates on, chuckling warmly at the messy waddling toward the rink, but you had to pause when you finally reached the ice.

Hayden stood there so confidently, holding your hands in his. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to for you to know he would be patient and take care of you. Catch you if you fell.

You squeezed Hayden’s hands, finding the exact safety you looked for when you looked into his eyes, and you tried not to think much before you finally stepped on the ice.

“It’s okay,” Hayden reassured as he adjusted his hands around yours, slowly moving back as you moved forward. “Try to keep balance,” he said as he moved to your side, still holding one of your hands despite how one of his arms wrapped around your waist for leverage. “Don’t look down so much or else you’ll lose your balance, okay? Keep firm, sweetheart.”

With a certain notion and Hayden’s tips, you tried to glide instead of taking steps. And fuck, it wasn’t so easy, far from being as easy as people made it seem. You could end up falling on your face, breaking your nose, your teeth, being away from business for so long— Your heart skipped a beat when you lost grip on the ice, but firm hands did hold you firmly, just as promised, slowly helping you regain your balance while everything still spun around you, your chest heaving up and down.

Hayden’s face came into sight, in front of blurry lights, with concern in his eyes. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded slowly, trying to catch your breath. You didn’t fall, nothing happened. Everything was alright. You held his hand tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, craving his warmth, trying your best not to lose balance. “Never let me go, please,” you whispered, and he knew you meant it beyond just letting you fall on the ice.

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Hayden whispered, kissing your temple, your cheekbone, gently coaxing you to turn your face until his lips met yours again. It felt like coming home—finding home.

︶⊹︶︶·𖥸·︶︶⊹︶

[ayjaydraws]

See the beauty of nature in our March art preview, drawn by Cheapslaw (Tumblr)!

This is just one of 12 pieces featured in The Stobotnik 2025 Calendar, a collaborative project by Stobotnik fans, for Stobotnik fans! 12 fantastic fandom artists have come together to produce a full 2025 calendar, available for pre-order now! Pre-orders are open Dec 20 2024 – Jan 5 2025 for physical versions of the calendar, shipped right to your door. A combo pack is also available, featuring both a physical and digital version of the calendar. Digital-only PDF versions will also go up for sale once the physical pre-order period has ended! A whole year of everyone’s favourite evil couple to hang on your wall, with blank squares below for you to write birthdays, holidays, appointments, or reminders for your sycophants to buy more Austrian goat milk. Pre-order your copy of The Stobotnik 2025 Calendar now at https://ko-fi.com/ayjaydraws!

[lilacskiesapothecary]

One Piece

“How they see you in Lingerie”

Zoro

Zoro is caught off guard and surprised seeing you in your sheer lacy getup. Zoro feeling a bit embarrassed seeing you stripped down couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering down your body. With only a few seconds he took in how gorgeous your chest looked wanting to kiss and suck your pretty nipples just to hear you moan his name. His eyes traveled further down noticing how amazing your ass looks in your lace panties, all he wants to do is rip them off and watch your pretty ass bounce on his cock. With his last few seconds he takes a mental picture of how beautiful your cunt looks in that lace. He could only imagine how beautiful it would look with his lips on your…Zoro realizing that he had been gazing at you for far to long “ You need to dress more appropriately for battle” and quickly walked away adjusting his pants do to the goddess that was you in Lingerie.

Luffy

Luffy was all too curious to understand what new kind of armor you had on. But what he did know was that you looked breathtaking, but he isn’t sure if your new armor will keep you safe. He gently hooked a finger around the band of your panties and giggled at how stretchy they were. But his breath hitched when it snapped back against your skin and your thigh jiggled with the impact. Luffy was mesmerized by the movement of your thighs and he didn’t really know why but he wanted to see more? To see if this stretchy armor will do other amazing things to your body. Again he didn’t understand the safety of this armor but getting to know the armor and the effects it has on your body was something he planned on doing.

Sanji

Sanji nearly collapsed seeing you in that soft lace. He immediately needed to worship your every inch of your body. He wants to softly caress your body in his hands while undoing the clasp of your bra and shimming you right out of those panties. He wants to take his time with you with slow kisses all over your bare skin. He’s always wanted to know how you would taste on his tongue. And how you would moan with his cock deep inside you. “Would you like me to-…” but Sanji was cut of by someone calling him. He flashed you a wink and headed off kicking himself for not making his dreams come to reality of worshipping you as you deserve.

🌸🌟Thank you for Reading 🌟🌸

✨We have exciting news!✨

We will be releasing our One Piece By the Sea Soap at the end of the month! Thank you all that has bought from us! It really means a lot 🥹

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[yutaan]

Papercraft Yami and Yugi! Ahhh, Yugioh, the longtime fandom of my heart 💙

I'm really pleased with how this piece came out. ^_^ Since Yami and Yugi are so closely tied together, I relied more than usual on the technique of depicting the areas where their figures overlap using a single piece of paper, whereas usually I would keep each character's pieces separate - for example, their gold bangs are the same piece of paper, their jackets where their shoulders press together, etc. The visual effect is very neat!

This artwork is currently available in my papercraft holiday sale, lovelies! A wide array of painstakingly crafted paper artwork assembled together from different tiny pieces (not unlike a puzzle!) are up for grabs!

[pinksugarscrub]

Hi, pinkie!! This may be weird but happy birthday :D wishing you all the best things and wishes 🫶🏻

(Silly Hobie wishes you happy birthday as well)

(Look at him being silly)

Like The Movies

Hobie Brown x fem! reader (college au)

Hi my love! 🤍 Thank you so much for the well wishes. It isn't weird!! 😠 Who told you that?? As promised, "loser" Hobie to celebrate. (I love my silly little guy. I'm putting him in my pocket).

I just want to say, to everyone who asked what would happen if I didn't win ( @hyperfix-wip )- I guess we'll never know 🤷‍♀️

word count: 1,7k+

cw: dorks, the lot of them

~

The smell of butter soaked popcorn has been stuck to Hobie’s clothes for hours now. Along with a straining headache. Rubbing his temples he tries to focus on the ugly red carpet instead of the screen at the cash register.

Ten more minutes then he was home free. Excluding the quick stop he was going to make to the video game store across the mall. The missing piece for his game cube was finally in stock.

He was debating grabbing pizza from the food court too but with his roommate gone for the weekend what was the point? Hobie really wishes Ned well but he’s disappointed that he’ll be spending his time off without his best friend.

It’s times like these that he wishes he was closer to his family. Deciding and then being accepted to attend university here in New York is a mixed blessing.

He’s learning incredible things, meeting new people, and living on his own. On the other hand, he’s still new to the US and its customs.

It’s exhausting after a while and he can’t even be comforted by anything other than the things he brought with him from Camden.

A beep from his watch alerts him that his shift is over and Hobie doesn’t waste a second in clocking out and discarding the thing he calls a uniform. He’s still polite of course. Says his goodbyes and wishes everyone a happy holiday despite not celebrating Thanksgiving himself.

He must look tired because most shoppers steer clear of him. At the most he’ll receive two or three compliments on his outfit. Or maybe they’re just preoccupied with the sales and discounts going on in various stores.

He mutters an apology as he brushes past a group to step inside the brightly colored store with posters and ads for the newest game. Hobie has learned Christmas lights in November is normal. He cringes as he hears a popular pop song play through the speakers. It’s maybe the twentieth time today he’s listened to it.

“Hobie, hey! Give me a sec.” Ganke pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Gesturing to the box Hobie presumes holds his order. “I’ll ring you up as soon as I can.”

“Course, no rush.”

And Hobie means that sincerely. There’s more than four customers in line with a dozen more circling figures and t-shirts. He may be tired but he knows well enough how demanding customer service can be.

To add a little more reassurance to Ganke’s mind, Hobie points to a random section of games. “I wanted to take a look around anyway.”

Ganke nods with a grin that never seems to fall from his face.

Hobie would consider this store his second home. He is on a first name basis with Ganke and he was even invited out by the younger boy to a flea market. They both shared a love for retro and vintage. Hobie met a friend of his too, Miles. It was the most fun he’s had since his arrival in August.

A sigh leaves his lips as the section he had planned to browse is blocked by a group of teenagers and yes, he himself is a teenager but something about American air made people lose their common courtesy.

He spins, planning to give up and just wait by the counter when something smacks into his chest. Not hard but definitely strong enough that the person who walked into him is sent stumbling back.

An apology spills from his lips and he’s met with one himself. The air from his lungs leaves his chest as he comes face to face with a girl. He knows you.

He knows because he shares a music composition class with you. He remembers because he embarrassed himself in front of the class. Hobie’s only ever written baselines so orchestral music has been a struggle for him.

“Why are you sorry?” You laugh softly. Fixing the bag on your shoulder full of pins and charms. “I bumped into you.”

“Are you ok?” You ask and Hobie isn’t sure what to do next.

He’s mortified that the only interactions he’s had with you (which are far and few) are so embarrassing.

Hobie may or may not think you’re cute. It would be stupid of him not to notice you.

It’s not like he has a chance with such a pretty girl but he can at least not look like a fool in front of you every chance he gets.

“Uh yeah,” he falters, “I’m fine. Are you…ok?”

“Me?” You point to yourself in confusion.

“Yeah,” he repeats. “Did I nick you or something?”

“Oh.” You laugh again as you take in the patches and safety pins on his vest. “I think we’re good.”

When you stand on the tips of your toes Hobie understands what you mean and his ears grow hot with embarrassment.

Hobie is aware he’s tall enough to be a basketball player but compared to you he’s never realized quite how tall he is.

You smile and think about how cute his reaction is. Hobie isn’t shy, not by any means. You’ve seen him with his friends around campus. But you can understand how being out of your element can leave you walking on eggshells.

Classical music is the soul of your being. Movie scores to be more specific, not to mention game sources. You haven’t quite decided what route to take but for now you’re content with going back to the basics and writing Bach inspired pieces.

“Hey, I really liked your presentation. Did you get a good score?”

“I did, yeah.”

Hobie thinks you must be lying to avoid making him feel bad. The professor too because he earned almost full marks.

He doesn’t understand why when his piece was so…awful. Nothing like yours or Flash Thompson’s.

“That’s great! I liked the third movement. It reminded me of um…” You snapped your fingers. “Bowser’s theme. You know, from the first Mario game?”

Hobie doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t, but he laughs.

“What? I’m serious!�� You grin as you reach for your phone. Insistent to make your point and be proven right.

“You can’t be.” Hobie almost guffaws. “It was a dumpster fire!”

“Was not!” You argue. Bringing your phone up to his ear after furiously typing.

Hobie looks at you in surprise. Stuck between your outstretched hand and your determined face. After a supportive nod from you and a smile he slowly leans down to listen.

You pause on certain points of the video. Rambling on about concepts the two of you have learned but obviously you know better.

The video takes exactly three minutes and fifty three seconds but you managed to lengthen the amount of time it would normally take to finish and soon enough he realizes you’re not just cute. You’re cute and you like games.

You weren’t trying to make him feel better you were making honest and valid points.

Now he feels like an ass for laughing so he’s quick to wave his white flag in surrender.

“Alright, alright. You win love. Has anyone ever told you you’re a bold little thing?”

“I have been called that on occasion, yes.”

Hobie hums. His lips tugging into a smile. “Don’t ever change.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you return his smile. “I won’t, promise.”

“What are you in here for if you don’t mind me asking? Aside from analyzing my music.”

“I don’t mind at all,” you answer. Feeling giddy. “There’s a poster I’ve been looking for and- tada.”

Hobie chuckles at the glee on your face as you hold up your prize.

“Is that right? Congratulations.”

“Thank you kind sir,” you giggle. “I was just heading over to pay when I bumped into you.”

“Guess it was a good thing I kept you occupied,” Hobie replies. “Line is gone now.”

You turn your head. Peeking over his shoulder to see the register is indeed free now.

“It appears so.” You tap his shoulder with the end of the rolled up poster. “Thank you again. You’ve done me a great honor sir.”

You relish in how much you’ve made Hobie laugh in the last few minutes you’ve talked. You’re disappointed this all has to end now.

Hobie snickers before bowing mockingly. “After you.”

You curtsey in return before walking over to Ganke. You’ve seen him a few times. Normally you come to the mall on weekends not weekdays but with the holidays coming up you had a few days off. Best to take advantage right?

Declining a bag you wait patiently for Ganke to finish the transaction but then he interrupts you from paying.

“Wait hold on, you have a birthday reward today.”

“Do I? Huh, I didn’t know the store had one.”

“Well, now your total comes down to less than ten dollars.”

“Sweet! Thank you.”

You step aside, thankful for Ganke’s chatty behavior because it give you an excuse to stay though Hobie’s own purchase. Both boys including you in their conversation about Hobie’s soon to be fully functioning game cube. Then you’re both walking out the door.

“So…” Hobie clicks his tongue. Anxious as the plastic bag he carries weighs down his hand. “Where are you off to now? Friends waiting at that nice restaurant?”

You shake your head, pointing to the direction of the movie theater. “Nope, there’s a screening for one of my favorite movies. It starts in about…ten minutes.”

Hobie’s eyebrows raise. “By yourself?”

“Mhm, was just killing some time.”

Hobie is at a loss for words. Spending your birthday alone sounds cruel. You deserve to have cake and gifts—the whole package. However it’s then that Hobie realizes he isn’t the only one who could be away from home.

“Mind if I come with you?” He blurts out.

Your eyes widen and in your stunned silence you feel the excitement build.

“Yes- I would love that!”

Gingerly clasping your hands together you happily tug him along. Explaining what movie you had bought a ticket for. Outwardly wondering if there were still seats available.

Hobie doesn’t feel dread walking back to the theater. He isn’t even upset when he smells popcorn again. With a soft smile he keeps his eyes on you. Only getting annoyed when his co-workers whistle behind his back and make exaggerated faces.

[faithschaffer]

-NEW TO SALE- A pair of watercolors! These have been added to my holiday originals sale, I'll be adding more new pieces throughout the week! The sale runs through 11/23 at 10AM and pieces ship immediately afterwards.

[femmeanonymelives]

Juno (Steven Grant x Reader)

Steven Grant x Girlfriend!Reader

Fluff, but hints at smut at the end.

Steven is trying to find the perfect gift for you. I was the secret santa for @ierofrnkk for @winniethewife's secret Santa event. I hope you enjoy this, Liv!!

Loosely inspired by the songs from Sabrina Carpenter's Short and Sweet album and tour, specifically songs Juno and Bed Chem.

It is a random evening in December. The weather in London was cold and snowy. It was a few short days until Christmas Day. The stores have been busy and overcrowded. Steven had been searching for the perfect holiday gift for you. He is bundled up with He looked everywhere for the perfect gift for you. He had searched every bookstore in the city to find a book you would like, but he found a book about the Egyptian God Geb for himself. He went to every clothing store imaginable for a sweater or a dress for you, but he found stuff you both desperately needed for your apartment. You both have decorated the apartment to make it more festive on your days off from work but he was struggling to find you the perfect gift. You have already purchased your gifts and hidden them in clever hiding spots so he wouldn’t see them yet.  Your relationship was perfect in every way. Donna was even considering giving him that promotion as a tour guide, which could count as a Christmas miracle. 

 That evening, he discovered a little, quant boutique near the bus stop near your guys’ apartment. The boutique was nestled in between two different shops that were already closed for the day. He enters the store. He stands there to see a display of sex toys, some of them gimmicky due to it being the holidays and others somewhat useful. He looks around at the different items for sale, from BDSM items (he was unsure if and how it would work for you two in the bedroom) to the weird edible food sex things (what the hell is edible underwear and that is not healthy for her at all?!), the store was covered in items for every fetish possible. At that moment, Steven just realized something.. He thought he just came into a weird adults-only knick-knack shop. Nope. Steven realized something shocking. He just stumbled into a sex shop accidentally…when Christmas shopping for you.

He looked through the items on the shelves. Completely lost and out of his element, he remembered your recent obsession with the innuendos from the Short and Sweet album. He came up with an idea.. and he needed handcuffs. Among the items, he found a ball gag for himself and a piece of lingerie for you. The teddy was made of soft red silk that would nicely hug your figure. When checking out, Steven noticed pink fuzzy handcuffs that would be perfect for the special surprise that he has for you on Christmas morning. He hoped that the clerk wouldn’t stare at him too long when wrapping the items that he just purchased in a box with a little red bow. 

On Christmas morning, you two made a nice breakfast together and watched a cute holiday movie as you two ate. When you unwrap each other’s gifts, he pushes his gift bag after you hug him tightly after receiving a map of Ancient Rome from him. You open the white gift box by untying the red ribbon that keeps the box shut. You see the red teddy lingerie, the pink fuzzy handcuffs… but you pulled out the ball gag… you get confused.

“I appreciate the lingerie and the handcuffs, but why the ball gag?”

“We have been always role-playing in the bedroom, but I want to experiment a little more.”

“You or me?”

“You have been listening to Sabrina Carpenter a lot recently and I overheard that she was arresting people at her concerts..”

“You know she is arresting people as a joke, right?”

“But… I want to try some freaking positions..”

“The only thing freaky we are doing tonight is making you beg for me while I cuff you to the bed…”

[utopiajk101]

✨ C0mmissi0ns are opened + Special winter sale✨

Treat yourself (or someone special) this holiday season with a custom art piece!

- 25% off!

- 5 slots available!

- Winter Sale until the end of December! ❄️

DM me if interested!

[Rts are appreciated 😊❤️]

More info below ⬇️