#cheap corporate gifts

[below10dollargifts1]

If you're looking for a unique and cheap corporate gifts Singapore to impress your clients and employees, then you should get in touch with Below10dollargifts. In Singapore, there are many corporate gifts options available for corporate gifts to suit your need. Shop now gifts with us today!!

[theccrafttree]

How to Give Your Storage Box a New Look With Wrapping Paper

In many cases, we do not use the word storage with the word beauty, as within storage, we want to hide our belongings, which we do not want to be seen by others. However, you can take another approach and decorate your storage boxes with some attractive wrapping papers to give them a new and attractive look, along with making some wholesale gift boxes.

Decorating your storage boxes is one of the simplest ways to give those boxes an attractive appearance, and hence, you can easily store them in plain sight and even feel proud about your creative ideas. So, now let us discuss the procedure of giving your storage boxes a special look with just some colorful wrapping papers.

The wrapping papers are a really awesome way to work with because they are not very costly and are available in many stores. If you already have some good-quality and attractive wrapping papers in your home, you can also use them. You can easily decorate your old wooden boxes, cardboard boxes and containers of any size and shape with the help of several beautiful wrapping papers.

Now let us dive into the step-by step procedure of decorating your storage box with wrapping papers.

How to decorate your storage box with wrapping paper

Through this amazing and exciting creative procedure, you can easily create some wholesale MDF boxes and use them for business.

The procedure of wrapping an open storage box

If your storage box does not have any lid, you can easily decorate that open box with some attractive and colorful wrapping papers. Here are the steps:

Wrapping your open storage box with attractive wrapping paper is a great idea when you do not wish to hide the things you want to store. With the help of an amazing wrapping paper, you can easily make your storage box much prettier than before without any extra expenses.

The things you need for this procedure are:

Step 1: Cut the paper

You need to start the work by cutting a part of the wrapping paper that can easily fit all four sides of the storage box.

After that, you need to cut the corner of the wrapping paper to the corner of your box atan angle of 90 degrees. Now, just repeat this step for all four corners of the box.

Step 2: Fold the paper

Now, you have to fold the edge of the paper down about an inch. 

Step 3: Use the tape

In this step, you have to apply the adhesive tape mentioned earlier on all edges of the paper. If you do not have this adhesive roll, you can just roll the tape and put them across the paper.

Step 4: Wrap the paper

Now, you have to wrap the paper over your storage box and then tuck the flap inside. Do not forget to repeat this step for all the four edges of your cardboard box.

Now, all the outside parts of your storage box have been covered with the wrapping paper and then, you can use that attractive box for different types of storage purposes. If you wish to decorate the inside walls of your storage box, you can easily cut the wrapping paper in the size of the inside walls of the box, and then, stick them inside with tape.

Hence, you can easily give any storage box a new look and use those for craft supplies, to store magazines, clothing, or even office items. You can also create several MDF boxes wholesale and have your own business. If you want to upcycle your old boxes, wrapping papers are a great way to accomplish the task.

Therefore, you can easily choose this fun and creative way to give your old wooden or cardboard boxes a new and attractive look. However, if you are still confused, you can get the help of the reliable and reputed company The Crafttree and decorate different types of MDF boxes wholesale by using wrapping papers.

Blog Source:- https://www.theccrafttree.com/how-to-give-your-storage-box-a-new-look-with-wrapping-paper/

[indigifts]

Are you looking for the christmas gifts, secret santa gifts, christmas decor items, christmas lighting, then visit Indigifts. 

[everjoygift]

Are promotional gifts better than business cards?

Promotional gifts are a substantial marketing tool, are products, often branded with an emblem or saying, used in marketing and communication programs. They are given away to stimulate a firm, corporate portrayal, brand, or event at trade shows, meetings, and as part of guerrilla marketing campaigns.

Using promotional products strategically — by creating a campaign around them or matching the item to a theme of an event — can assist you to boost leads, deals, customer loyalty, and brand knowledge. If you’re interested in a great way to endear your brand to your prospective and existing customers, check out this list of four advantages of promotional products.

Better than a business card

Promotional products provide a unique and imaginative flair to advertisement campaigns. There are so multiple options for the items that you can put your name on. While there’s invariably a place for a business card, promotional products take it one stage further. They will be employed and showcased for months to come, can be tailored to your distinct target market, and entitle your business’ creativeness to shine.

Ability to stand out among your competition

Because they are unusual, promotional products assist your firm stand out from your competitors and make it easier for customers to recognize your brand immediately once they see your logo. If the item is something useful, buyers will see it repeatedly and think of you whenever they use it. 

Budget-friendly marketing tool

Promotional products from Ever Joy Gifts are cost-effective compared to other widespread shapes of publicity, particularly media when attempting to build your brand. Most branded merchandise uses a word-of-mouth technique to boost expense per impression.

​Since promotional products are generally passed from one individual to the next, your brand reputation will profit enormously from improved impressions. So get ready to be a famous brand if you have decided to use these magical items for your promotion. 

[servantofthefates]

Life-Changing Money Manifestation Tip 💰

This is not a technique I learned from books, or a principle my elders taught me. It is simply something I have observed to be unfailingly effective.

I know it might seem counterintuitive, impractical, and perhaps even downright foolish. But it has been consistently true for me and the people around me.

The tip is: Never ever be frugal with money.

Even when you're afraid you won't have enough, be open-handed with your spending. Spend on your needs, spend on your wants, spend on others who deserve your generosity. Just. Keep. Spending.

The fuck, right? What if you already don't have enough to begin with?

Well, you know how they say, "Love is infinite" or "There's enough love to go around" or "Love multiplies, it doesn't divide"?

The same is true for money.

Money is energy. It just happens to have physical manifestations like coins, bills or gold.

Love too is energy. It just happens to have physical manifestations like kisses, words or gifts.

And it is common knowledge that if we wish to be loved, we must first love ourselves, and give love freely to those who are worth it. We must let love flow through us.

Same with money. If we want to have it, we must first spend it on ourselves and give it freely to those we deem worth it. We must let money flow through us.

And flow it will.

Just as it is nearly impossible for a cold-hearted person to invite love, it is also very hard for a stingy person to invite money.

I have seen this first-hand many times.

This man owned a boutique advertising agency. He gave out bonuses and free international trips to his team the way corporations give out cheap pizzas to their employees. And back then, this man's business thrived. Some months, he made more than global agencies did. And the awards were pouring in too. He was on top of the world.

Suddenly, his elderly mother got terribly sick, and he panicked. He knew he had to spend a fortune on her medical bills, and his fear got the best of him. So he cancelled the free trips. He stopped giving bonuses. Eventually, he even cut down salaries and moved to a smaller office.

One year later, his business went bankrupt. Because all his talented employees left. And with that, the trust of his clients dried out. His business — which had the potential to become an empire — ended up becoming just a TikTok trend.

Because he held on to money too tightly... money felt suffocated and walked out on him entirely.

The opposite example is me. No, I do not also own an ad agency. But I have learned to never worry about money. And since then, money has never disappointed me.

Last year, someone dear to me had been praying for a MacBook, but her parents couldn't afford it. I too couldn't afford it. Not without digging into my savings. So I did. Because I know money will always come back to me. And it did.

Two days after I placed the order, I received an email from Shareworks that my stocks were ready to be withdrawn. The amount? Double what I paid for the Mac. These stocks are released yearly, so I tend to forget about them. But they came at the right time.

And it is like this every time.

I buy a Louis Vuitton bag with money meant for my holiday. Suddenly, a friend invites me to go with them on a fully paid trip to the same country I was planning to visit.

I buy a bunch of tarot decks with a week's worth of transportation costs, and my company announces we're working from home for a week while they repair some rain damage.

I buy a box of Patchi chocolates when I'm already short on my monthly budget, and my salary gets released early because it's the holidays, and the CEO is feeling friendly.

I know life is not always as sweet as I described it to be. Sometimes, it's not about Louis Vuittons and Patchis, but about diapers and cough medicine. I am perfectly aware some people are struggling — not about holidays and tarot splurges, but about keeping the electricity on and putting food on the table. I will not pretend to know the solution to their hardships.

What I do know is there are people who are considered poor in my community who are seriously way happier than me. And I know I have had bosses who made thrice as I did who were far more miserable than me.

And that tells me that despite our different stations in life, energy is energy. And it's always best to let it flow freely.

So I repeat... never ever be frugal with money.

When it knocks on your door, say, "Hey, nice to see you!" When it leaves your house, say, "See you again soon!" And when it finally seems to be making itself at home, do not lock it in the basement. Cook dinner with it. Invite your friends over. Watch a movie. Do karaoke. Look money in the eyes and say, "I'm glad you've decided to stay."

[brightbertalt]

Just the thought of requesting a Hobie x reader gets constantly hit on and receiving tons of gifts including chocolates but regardless she rejects them cuz she’s with Hobie just a cute thought I had😅💙

love this!!! i can relate bc im so hot and sexy and cool 😎 and I hope u love this!!!

warnings - creeps bein creepy!

thanks! but…

you sat in your room, devouring a box of chocolates and some mcdonalds fries like no tomorrow. you remembered the situations that led to this earlier today-

“hey, uhm, here!”

the man said, pushing the box out in front of you, along with a card. he seemed very nervous.

“uh..have a good day! bye!”

before you could ask questions, he speed-walked away. you should be better at reacting to this. it’s been like the 3rd time today. you didn’t know what it was about you, you thought you looked like a perfectly average person. what could it be about you?

“sorry! i..uh..have a boyfriend..”

later that night, you decided to go get some fast food. nothing can satisfy a craving like greasy, cheap food. after you ordered you waited to the side, texting your boyfriend.

7:32pm

where u at hun

7:33pm

at mickey d’s u want anything?

7:33pm

contributing to the corporate machine?

7:35pm

yeah bc im fucking hungry

7:36pm

ill be there in 5

after you got your food, since hobie decided that he was gonna be there now, you waited. jesus, hopefully no one was gonna-

“hey sweetheart, how about you come back to my place and hang out?”

oh jesus christ. why does this always happen to you? seriously, this town had a problem with creeps. you walked out of the joint, starting to walk back to your apartment.

“hey hun-“

“oh my fucking god you better get the hell away from me or I swear to god!”

“hun, calm down.”

finally, it was a random creep. it was your creepy boyfriend. you two walked back to your apartment, the conversation mostly consisted of you ranting about your day and how this town isn’t friendly to women.

“I just don’t understand! it feels like I just get bombarded by every creep in this city! why?”

“cuz you’re beautiful. and i’ll beat the fuck out of ‘em if you want.”

“i’d like that actually.”

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: Fat Gum (Taishiro Toyomitsu) x Fem Reader

As a crime journalist with a chequered past, you find yourself re-located to Esuha City through no choice of your own. Working alongside pro-hero Fat Gum, each new case exposes more of the dark underbelly of the city, and what it truly means to be a hero.

Genres: Suspense, mystery, romance, humour.

Rating: M

Warnings: Violence, substance abuse, adult themes, explicit sexual content in later chapters.

Cross-posted from Ao3.

Title from: "Era Vulgaris" lyrics, by Queens of the Stone Age.

Divider by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

It was time.

Your belongings all fitted into a small cardboard box, a foot each way in length and width. First, the framed pictures and accolades that sat around your desk in the tiny, crowded cubicle. Then the other personal items, including the stationery, coffee mug, journal and numerous blank spiral-bound notepads.

In went the small basket of plastic flowers gifted to you by Mrs Honda. They had never been to your taste, even before they faded, but you'd treasured them since she'd handed them over to you after that last appearance in court.

Packing was complete in a depressingly short time. The books stacked waist high against the walls of your cubicle, the archives you'd spent many sleepless nights poring over, the rows of files piled on flimsy bracketed shelving, bowing slightly under their weight, would not be leaving this office with you. You'd signed a non-compete to avoid any issues if a rival news group employed you, and all of this would have to remain.

Not that you had much hope of that happening. Your new posting was in downtown Esuha City, at a small local tabloid, the only kind that would currently employ you.

Once your box was packed with its meager contents, you paused, taking in the cubicle you'd spent the last six years ensconced in, eating cheap, steaming cup ramen, the tinny radio from across the hall on full blast for the evening news, peeling off your wet coat and socks after hours spent standing in pouring rain at some event or other.

This was where your career had been made. This was where it had ended.

All right, so you were entitled to a dramatic flourish, considering your circumstances. Technically, your career wasn't over.

You picked up the box with an air of finality, shrugging away your procrastination of the inevitable. There was still that long walk to the train station to endure, through the halls, past the cubicles and offices of the people you'd worked alongside for years.

A walk of endurance.

You could take doors slamming against the prod of your questioning, the roughhousing of other journalists as you waited outside the scene of a crime, fingers numb with cold. You could withstand a shower of flying spittle as some corporate bigshot screamed into your face, apoplectic with rage. You had even learned to stand silent witness to grief, despair and unimaginable violence.

This, on the other hand, was different. Their stares weren't even disapproving, or angry. Just pitying.

Your pace increased, and even though the box you carried was shockingly light, your breathing was laboured by the time you reached the front doors.

"Reporting for duty, Fat Gum!"

"Nice and early, Kirishima. Good on ya."

Tamaki glanced between the two manifestations of pure sunshine that, unfortunately, made up the rest of his team. His shoulders came up defensively.

"I thought today was going to be admin. Can't you leave me here in the office to handle things?"

Fat Gum's large hand steered Tamaki out the door, and right out of that particular delusion.

"Come on. What have I told you about practicing your 'helping people' face?"

"I've never possessed such a face."

Kirishima slapped an open palm against his chest and flashed a confident grin.

"Like this! See? It's easy."

Tamaki shook his head woefully.

"I can't help it. I look nervous all the time and my smile comes out wrong and I scare people. Or make them feel sorry for me."

Fat Gum stroked his chin in apparent thoughtfulness.

"Guess you're right about that. You do look scared a lot. Need to work on that, 'fore we let you out into the streets again, huh?"

Tamaki's mouth fell open, and he craned his neck to catch a glimpse of Fat Gum's face.

"Are you for real? I can actually stay here at the agency and ... "

He received a good-natured, if callous, belly laugh from the BMI hero.

"Nah, just kidding. You're going on patrol with us. Ain'tcha a lucky guy?"

Tamaki retreated into hopelessness once again. For two kind and cheerful heroes, Fat Gum and Kirishima seemed to take some sort of special pleasure in tormenting him. He'd just have to endure.

As they made their way out into the chilly street, Tanaki considered his unique position at Fat Gum's Agency. As much as he still needed to work on himself, he knew, on some level, that he'd made large strides since he'd started his studies here.

His internship had been a success, if harrowing in its social nature. Attached to a hero like Fat Gum, there was no bypassing any form of public interaction, as Tamaki had successfully done in the past. Taishiro Toyomitsu was a 'tender tank' indeed, warm, effusive, generous, always ready with a quick snack and words of encouragement or support, but he didn't hold Tamaki's hand either. There was a rough, tough, independent streak to the man, one that didn't brook wallowing in weakness or accepting one's flaws as part of nature.

He'd made it clear to Tamaki that he'd expect him to improve as a hero, because heroes weren't perfect beings that sprang fully formed into the public eye. They had to actively work on themselves, much harder than the people they protected on a daily basis. Fat Gum himself had steadily climbed the ranks through sheer incremental labour, gaining the trust of the community he had grown up in, effectively working alongside other heroes that people could consider to be far more powerful than he was.

Tamaki raised his head slightly when he realized that Fat Gum was speaking again, words slightly muffled as he popped the steaming taiyaki he'd bought from a street vendor into his mouth.

" ... and there'll be new deliveries coming in for Okita Groceries. Gotta keep an eye on that later. Clover Fields Nursery is also holding a fundraiser some time this morning. Traffic might be a problem if they're taking up the corner across from Gijima Group Building. Hmm. Let's see. Oh, I got a message from Tachibana at Esuha Shimbun. They're getting a new employee today. Someone he wants to talk to me about. I gotta stop by there too."

Kirishima was nodding along earnestly to the listing.

"Where should we go first?"

Fat Gum raised a burly fist, pausing in thought before swinging his arm out towards the south-west district that was crowded with various business enterprises and office blocks.

"The newspaper building. Tachibana gets there pretty early. Let's see what he has to say."

Esuha Shimbun was small and focused enough to be classified a tabloid, but its reputation as a long-established and trustworthy news source for the locals made it worth its salt. Tachibana had been the assistant editor for many years now, his own roots in the community providing him with a network of information (and imformants) that often proved very useful to Fat Gum.

The building was an unremarkable light grey, the sign for the newspaper headquarters half hidden in a shadowed entryway. Tamaki spotted the short, bespectacled man outside, waiting for their approach. He frowned. Tachibana only met them out here when he wanted to pass along confidential information.

Fat Gum raised a hand in greeting as the assistant editor spotted them and hurried over. Tachibana started speaking as soon as they were within earshot, his rapid-fire delivery jumbled and nervous.

"Oh, there you are. She's due any time now. Apparently she took the first train out and she's going to - "

"Hey now, hold on."

Fat Gum raised a quelling palm.

"Who's 'she' and what's got your head in such  spin?"

Tachibana took a small, bracing breath before adjusting his glasses.

"The new columnist, that's who. She's going to be here soon."

"And that's who you wanted to tell me about?"

"Well ... yes. Her. She specializes in crime writing. But ... you see ... she's been involved in reporting on certain types of cases. That's what I wanted you to know about. There was a big court case surrounding that last one. It's the reason she's been transferred here. One of our sponsors also invests in a big Tokyo newspaper where she used to work."

Fat Gum scratched his chin lightly, frowning.

"Sounds like a lotta words for a simple warning, Tachibana. What exactly do you want me to know?"

"Some of the cases she covered don't exactly put heroes ... in the best light. It's why nobody in the big cities wants to employ her anymore. That court case she was involved in was a good example. The hero didn't come out of it looking great at all. One could say ... his career pretty much went downhill from there. So listen."

Tachibana leaned in urgently, voice lowering even further.

"I had no say in her ending up here. Just ... watch your back, okay? Be extra careful with how you handle cases from now on."

Fat Gum reacted exactly the way Tamaki expected him to. He chuckled, fishing a now slightly cold taiyaki from the paper carton he carried.

"That's it?"

Tachibana let out a frustrated huff.

"I knew you wouldn't take this seriously enough. Just ... just be careful. And don't say I didn't warn you."

"Warn him about what?"

A distinct feminine voice, calm and crisp, sounded from behind them. Tamaki froze before turning slowly. Tachibana's complexion had lost a little of its ruddiness.

It looked like the subject of their conversation  had turned up at a most ... inopportune time.

You'd done your research on the area, of course. Which was the reason you'd known about him; BMI hero, Fat Gum. Seeing him in person was ... certainly something, though. You'd seen pictures of him, but nothing had prepared you for how tall he was in his current form.

He towered over the two youngsters who were, presumably, his interns or sidekicks, and definitely dwarfed the diminutive assistant editor who was now looking at you as if you'd donned a tengu mask and danced threateningly in front of him holding a spear.

Your eyes met Fat Gum's, the large, tawny-gold irises surrounded by the black material of his mask, disconcerting in their wide, frank appraisal. He grinned and the lengthening of his sizeable mouth heralded a low rumble that then pitched forward seamlessly into a full throated laugh. His belly heaved and he slapped Tachibana's shoulder so hard the smaller man stumbled forward. Fat Gum wiped a tear of mirth away from his eye, completely oblivious, it seemed, to the tension that had permeated the air.

"Now this'll make a funny story."

He waved to you, large hand encased in a worn, red glove of sturdy material.

"Hiya. You must be the new columnist."

You nodded slowly before approaching.

"I am. But are introductions really in order? It seems Mister Tachibana was doing a good enough job before I came along."

The assistant editor sputtered.

"Now, I meant no harm. You have to understand - "

"Ya, he was telling me watch my back 'round you, missy," Fat Gum chirped cheerfully.

One of the sidekicks, a dark-haired boy, moaned slightly before covering his face. The other boy flashed a sharp row of teeth in an amused grin. Fat Gum continued undeterred, now munching on a stick of pocky he had pulled from God-knows-where.

"That ain't gonna change how I work, obviously. You're welcome over at my agency any time! Come see how we do things. Get to know the town. You're gonna need to be familiar with stuff if you wanna get in on the good stories, ya know?"

So saying, he handed you a stick of pocky. You took it. You weren't sure you had a choice in the matter. Fat Gum offered a small salute and a "See ya!" before turning his portly form towards the main road and ambling off, trailing his sidekicks in his sizeable wake.

Tachibana mumbled some half-hearted apology before hurrying into the building, leaving you standing on the street with your satchel slung over your shoulder.

Well.

That was certainly one way to start your first day at work. Your patchy history with pro-heroes had followed you all the way out here, it seemed. Not that you expected any different. This hero, Fat Gum, seemed genuinely unconcerned though.

Raising the stick of pocky to your mouth thoughtfully, you took a bite.

[goddamnshinyrock]

that TV post, man.... I whined about us not having cable (or satellite? I'm kinda fuzzy on the difference in content tbh) SO often when I was growing up but I unironically think one of the greatest gifts my crunchy hippie parents gave to me was protecting my developing brain from as much advertising as they possibly could.

We didn't have cable, we never listened to commercial radio, we didn't subscribe to any pop culture type magazines, the internet was dial-up and also WAY less full of ads, so literally my only exposure to ads was in the local newspaper or in national geographic (or roadside billboards, lol), and it was GREAT.

people in the notes are talking about how TVs are sooo cheap and so there's no economic reason for most people not to have a bedroom TV for each family member but like... my objection is philosophical, not monetary. Your kid doesn't need an ipad, they don't need an iphone, and they definitely don't need a bedroom TV so corporations can stream advertising directly into their little eyeballs at all hours of the day and night.

[seat-safety-switch]

When the fires finally got put out, the reporters were there. This was odd to me at the time, as I was convinced in this timeline that "reporters" were obsolete. These folks, such as they were, were in fact contractors, eking out their precarious pseudo-employment by selling tasty nuggets of news to the omnipresent media sentiences that decided which of them we got to see on TV. Er, the other thing, not TV.

Better people than myself have complained about the decline of journalism, especially local, human-interest stories like the one I was now at the epicentre of. What's important here is that the story was so exciting, so salacious, so profitable, that I was swarmed like toddlers playing soccer. A million questions were shouted at me. Near-infrared beams scanned the contours of my skull to see if I was perhaps some kind of wanted criminal or previous-generation internet celebrity. One of the firefighters even stopped, mid-dousing, to see what all the hubbub was about.

Here now is the story I couldn't give them then. It was Lobsterfest at Red Lobster. For those of you unaware of the tradition, it is a period of time in which Red Lobster gets a little cooped-up and starts making crazy, experimental dishes for cheap.

Where this becomes a must-visit event for me is that Red Lobster corporate is historically very bad at pricing, especially when a short-term promotion is being forced on untrained management. Someone with a devious enough mind and absolutely no shame about arguing the minutiae of the menu can easily combine the cost of two meals into enough lobster to fill a bathtub.

I have many great memories of Lobsterfests past, which lured the entire Safety-Switch clan out of their various hibernations in an attempt to do what we did best: exploit legal loopholes in restaurant promotions. When I was 14, my uncle got shanked by a waitress at the former place off Halton when he asked for a sixth refill on his "bottomless" shrimp cocktail. He still ate another full one before collapsing at the table from blood loss. My dad covered the bill, half out of shock and half out of awe.

Well, Uncle Disconnect was going to be really proud of me this year. It's just as well, because I didn't have time to buy him a Christmas present while he was in jail and all (his attorney stresses I must tell you it was for an unrelated matter.)

Still, "driving a line manager insane enough with special requests for substitutions that he tries to burn his own kitchen down with a homemade Molotov Sizzler®" is the gift that keeps on giving all year.

[helloescapist]

Jujetsu Alumni During the Holidays

Word Count: 5979

Setting: [insert JJK Alumni] x gn!reader (established relationship)

Content  Warning(s): mentions of holidays, Christmas, hint of suggestive material.

Summary: headcanons as to what the Jujetsu Kaisen Alumni (Geto, Suguru, Nanami, Shoko, Utahime, Toji, and Yuki) are like during the holidays.

A/N: my only regret is that I did not have time to do headcanons for Choso. Happy holidays everyone. Do your best, however that may look.

Geto Suguru

In his youth, the curse user had a warmer affinity for the holiday season, able to convince himself to overlook the infringements of the cheap expectations of those around him.

In those days, Sugur could sit before the Christmas tree amongst the dark of night. Still, and quite as none stirred, content to sneak downstairs in his pajamas. To place himself before the tree, and delight in the warm tones. The ambience of peace and serenity, gentle colors, ambered golds, and tempting reds. Natural greens that soothed against light bulbs, allowed himself to become mystified by the distinct glow in the dead of night.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Content in to gaze up adoring, reflecting upon how the year had drawn him to this very moment. Accomplishments at school, making a new friend, enduring said friend, all while running his fingers over ornaments. Treasured hand-me-downs that remind him of those who passed from this world, constructed wreaths of glue and cereal. Images of his younger self posed and smiled ear to ear. Delighted to be able to gift his parents with something he had made himself.

During those years, Geto would enjoy the laughter of those around him. Noting how the light seemed to sparkle upon his peers, as they anxiously awaited presents, and winter breaks. The pitch of humming, no matter how off key, and the sudden pick up of moods of those around him.

Opting to focus on the joy that had surrounded him, he immersed himself in the comfort of its presence. Content with the bustle of those around him. He was the child who was just grateful to receive something regardless of what lurked beneath the wrapping paper.

Yet, those days have slipped from his fingertips.  Slowly, but surely, as a stream that divides mountains, tarnishes rocks, and erodes the soil beneath to the new realities of formation, the curse user’s awareness of his environment shifted. He began to notice the shift of temperament.  The sudden generosity and charity moved by those around him, by corporations pushing wares, peddling new models at unreasonable prices.

The sudden demands of peers, Christmas lists that seemed to run on without end, nor consideration of financial wellbeing. Suguru struggled to keep his head above the undertow of the holiday season, focused himself to swallow the lump at his throat. Eyes trained a head on those dearests to him, if only to maintain his sanity. To see their smiles, delighted by ice skating, joyful of cookies, and holiday treats… Told himself that such joys were not limited to the season—for those he cared for always recognized the frailty of life, and savored the moments that came far pass the holiday calendar.

But it could only last for so long. Little by little chipped him from his optimism. Familial bickering, unrealistic demands, the children who struggle to survive, and receive nothing while other youth rotted amongst materialistic items. Competition derived amongst neighbors, unabashed displays of wealth that adorned pockets, and lawn décor. Recipes that demanded attention, extravagant and pungent, crowded amongst snide remarks traded over the dinner table.

Buy, buy, buy.

The growing realization that your presence was meaningless if it did not accompany a price tag. Chocked upon the dip of sanity, yanked, and shattered his hopes, peeled open his eyes to the horrid truths of the holiday monkeys. An insatiable appetite for more, as the meaning of life fell from the waste side.

Ultimately, Geto will approach the holiday with trained cynicism. He will do his best to tuck such bitter sentiments beneath his many layers, force a smile for you as you delight in Christmas lights. Sing praises over simple pleasures like hot chocolate, and warm socks. Tuck a smile to his face, the small slips of his old self threatening to resurface.

To enjoy the lights at your side.

To sip chocolate.

To just breathe.

It’s warm, and bright, and for a moment, if just for a moment, he can allow himself to release the knot in his stomach, ease the strong desire for control from his pores, to just breath, and enjoy your company.

Bittersweet, all too aware that this moment is fleeting, and he will have to resign himself to holiday shopping. The warmth of your hand folded into his own, his discontent to frolic amongst retail monkeys, and greedy bastards cushioned by your coos of the toy selection. Reminded of the life the twins have lived before your care, before his presence, biting back any resentment of the holiday grind as you rummage through merchandise.

The girls deserve so much more than these disgusting monkeys, and because of this, he will force himself to revisit holiday sentiments. Tried and true, if only to give you the holiday you and the girls desire.

But he’d really much rather be feeding the stray cats in the alley way than doing this.

Gojo Satoru

There are few things that Gojo enjoys when it comes to the holiday itself. The presents can be tempting, he certainly has a few things that he is happy to receive, but ultimately, he believes that there is no one better than himself to buy for himself. Cut out the middleman, and any obligatory returns. Not to mention he views the entire return process at department stores exhausting. Why isn’t there an app for this by now?

More so, there’s something about the expectation of those around him. The curious peek over shoulders, the way so many tend to thumb through name tags, never openly admitting that they expect to see their names amongst the packages. Smug when they discover it, and bitter at their own self righteous expectations deflated and humbled.

In what world would he ever gift Yoshinobu Gakuganji a sincere gift.

It’s almost humorous how bruised egos can become during this time frame, as though for some reason everyone believes them the exception, desiring fits. Superficial, shallow as the first year training pool. It’s embarrassing really.

But he will make time to squeeze in opportunities to set others up for facing their expectations head on later. Truthfully, there are only a few Gojo would pick up gift for, and the most majority of them are gag gifts that are unique to his brand of humor.

It would not surprise me in the slightest if Satoru were to send Utahime a framed portrait of himself just for the satisfaction of knowing it would crawl under her skin. Playfully of course, he means no spite in his gifting, it’s all well intended to build the banter between the two. It’s a shame Utahime does not return the sentiment and smashed it. D

Tender gifts selected with the fullest of his affections are rare, and few between. However, you can expect that he has something special in mind for you. It would be targeted towards favored hobbies, or interests, or maybe something sleeker like a new wallet, or other luxury item, even a new gadget he genuinely feels would benefit you. Although ultimately, his gift may be something you may not completely expect.

Unlike his counterpart, Satoru actually enjoys the come and go of the holiday season. The noise, the lights, festivities, and parties, and he is known to partake in a large majority of them. He has a natural affinity for being around others, especially those he is partial to, and you can expect him to drag you to quite a few celebrations. A random festival will be sure to spark his interest.

He’s buying everything he can.

Challenging games, stuffing down vender’s foods, and dragging you along with him. Teasing you as he offers bites, pressed between your lips without a second thought of who may see.

In many ways, he approaches the holiday season with childlike wonder, and curiosity. He’s eager to partake in a number of traditions, those familiar, and those completely foreign. So much so that he is easily convinced to give anything a shot at least once. Gojo’s open mindedness may lead him to food poisoning one day, but to day is not this day, and the suckling pig is just too intriguing to pass up.

His sweet tooth is notorious, and more than anything, he is a sucker for all of the pastries, delicacies, and all that the holiday season has to offer—which is quite the substantial variety. If the sorcerer discovers a fair, or event that offers sweet sampling from around the world—he will not ask if you are going. He will, quite literally kidnap you.

It is his weakness.

He really cannot deny the opportunity, and there is no one he would rather spend it with than with you.

However, the best part of the holiday is not in the presents, or in the way your hand captures his own as he teases you across the ski ring—smugly delighting in your struggle on wobbly knees while he glides across the ice; it’s not even his sugar bliss…

It’s the discomfort of all party attendees as he drops harsh realities tied to the holiday season. Openly depicting the correlation between beloved Christmas caroling through town, and the warding off of evil spirits. The appeasing of kisses beneath mistletoe for higher deities, the intention of decking the halls with holly as a means of spreading good wealth. Down to toying with the ornaments upon the tree, greeting the little gods chuckled at the obvious discomfort that has begun to circulate throughout the party.

There will however, come a point where the tinsel has begun to slip from the tree, the glitter has lost its charm as it infects its surroundings, and his desire to captivate the masses has lost its buzz. He’s tired and has expended the last of his good will. Satoru will no longer attempt to humor bystanders.

Gojo wants to go home. He wants alone time. He wants you pressed against him, your arms thread around him. Pressed his cheek to your heartbeat, exhausted from the adventures the holiday has brought him, the stray of your fingers curled around one of his silver bell locks. Bonus if you’re naked.

His eye is on the prize, and the best he will do is manage a later, before leaving in the most obtuse of departures.

Nanami Kento

One of the first things that come to mind when one thinks about the holiday season, is the endless to-do lists that plague observers. Never ending tasks to complete from scrubbing floors, ensuring beds have been properly made. There are sure to be visitors, relentless relatives that are known to rub their fingers across shelves searching for dust. Little things to nitpick, like flies to the flesh, the holiday is supposed to be something that is beautiful, and hopeful, but the reality is for a lot of people, the holidays are a horrible source of stress.

If you are one of those people, lean on Nanami.

Let’s be honest, you can always lean on him.

Kento is an expert at delegating and accomplishing tasks. Calm under pressure, the holiday season is by no means a source of anxiety for him. Rather, it’s a chance to accomplish the highest of feats. A chance at glory, to be your hero. To demonstrate his strengths to prove once and for all,

He is a domestic god.

The sorcerer is a man of warmth under pressure, unphased by the daunting tasks to be accomplish. Meticulous, and well thought out, he can strategize his approach, and compose himself under fire, and strike when the iron is hot.

In just a few short hours, he has reorganized your home, sparkled beneath the gleam of lights. Sprinkled joy amongst the cinnamon and nutmeg, the sweet hues of vanillas and zest of orange that greets you as you open your door. The distinct tinkering of nails, or staples, his fingers calloused and tired at work. Dedicated to the task at hand.

He’s already ensured that there is not a crumb, nor speck out of place.

Balanced upon a step ladder, pins between pressed lips as his eyebrow furrows. Pressed in deep contemplation. The small bead of sweat those traces down his brow, the roll of his sleep revealing taunt muscles as the sweet smell of sugar cookies with his own special recipe wafts through the room. Too distracted by the garland and lights twirled between his fingers to notice that you’ve arrived home.

How desperately you want to enfold him in your grasp, snuggle him into your arms, if not more. Only pinned back by the way he balances himself upon the ladder, and knowing fully well that your intrusion would result in bodily harm. You’ll get him later tiger.

Yet, the moment he hears your bag drop, the slip of your keys into the bowl, rolled your shoulders. The way he peeks over his shoulder at you, the smile growing and spreading ear to ear, soft and warm. Delighted to greet your return, the way he whispers your name with affection that could easily be missed if you were not familiar with the dip of his tone. “Oh, [YN], welcome home.”

As if he is not in fact, balancing an act of decoration magic as he swiftly retreats down the steps, to greet your arrival home, requesting in as nonchalant tone as possible, that he would appreciate your input on his home-made mulled wine. His indirect way of offering you reward for your efforts. And he welcomes the praises.

Kento has little difficulty approaching holiday shopping. While he cannot say with the utmost confidence it is his favorite thing to do, but that being said, he understands that the majority of people have a severe aversion. Whether it’s simply something you hate to do who doesn’t, or if it is someone who simply struggles with the crowds, the social demands, finds the entire environment over stimulating and could result in full sensory shutdown—he’s more than happy to take responsibility for this task.

In general, he’s fairly unbothered by the task itself. Although he would be happier to be at home with you decorating sugar cookies. Yet, he will never struggle with completing the task. He can hop from store to store if it were to mean he could bask in the tuck of your smile, or the way you cannot help but release a sigh of relief. The bones that seem to ease at the sincerity, and how your small hands captivate his sides as you whisper your gratitude, shyly into collar.

You’ll find that during this time, Kento is at ease. The nostalgia of Christmas lights, the distant hue of holiday cheer. Gentle, and comforting to his ears. The sound of neighbors welcoming relatives as he sits in his balcony, sipping his mulled wine. There’s a sweet sense of enjoyment, warm and at ease. It’s all so cozy, and calls upon distant memories that remind him of simpler times.

Splitting a sweet potato with Haibara.  Warm and tender, the heat a stark contrast from the pillows of smoke that captured his breath. The exposed of his finger tips fumbled across the potato that he insisted on sharing with Nanami, the exact opposite of him. His laughter at Kento’s open pessimism. The snarky remarks he had made at Haibara’s lack of consideration of his health, pointing out his lack of mittens in such chill.

His old age reflection, making Kento all too aware of how he had taken such moments for granted.

These memories, at times, can be stirring, little moments that he wishes that he could erase, or ones that he desperately longs to reclaim. A balancing act that he struggles to manage, but there it is. Your wide smile as you come rushing through the door. The sack wrapped around your wrists, excitedly tossing aluminum wrapped produce between fingers.

Your nose bright red, cheeks puffed as undeniable as the smile that spreads, the squint of your eyes. Excited, warm and nearly shaking with your joy as you make quick work of your shoes, abandoned at the doorway, and rush to share your spoils of war, packaging. Completely unaware that your smile reminds him of the ghost of your youth. Grins nearly perfectly aligned.

And he cannot fight the way the corner of his lips tug as he takes the potato from your fingers, lightly teasing that you should have worn mittens.

Shoko Ieiri

What day is today?

Shit, she doesn’t even know.

The rub of her temples, cold rooms, piled upon bodies in capsules. The sickening scent of methanol and sodium bi carborate. Toxic, and pulled, only shooed away from her senses as she lights another cigarette. Welcomes the shortened life span, the thick puff of smoke between pressed lips. Chocks on duties that weigh on her, as her fingers meet the bridge of her nose. The exasperating jitter of a dial tone vibrated against her desk. Buried beneath papers, files that have claimed her workload, and distracted her from any sense of a personal life.

The exhaustion that draws out a ushed annoyed sigh, as the sender of the text flickers in over excited, and obnoxious tone.

Remember to take time off for the holidays—Gojo.

The press of the time, well past three am, on Christmas morning. The jolly diabetes bowl of jelly has long since passed over Japan—no part of her is at all surprised that he had not bothered to pay her a visit as she clicks the lock button between her nails, allowing the phone to slip from her hand and plunk on the desk. The fatigue sunk between her bones as her back finds the back of the chair.

Ieiri cannot recall the last time she observed the holidays; work often distracted her from such sentiments. Not that she had ever truly cared about the septation. There were very few moments that the holiday season really held any significance for her. She can recall gifts that she enjoyed, but aside from such moments, it was never something she awaited.

More often than not, it felt as though she was directed in a play. Expectations of gifts, to pose for the perfect picture, laugh at jokes that lacked humor, act surprise despite the fact that her parents had a less than impressive maneuver to place it directly under their bed. Not even properly tucked under. How was she supposed to act surprise? All elaborate orchestrated performance, one that had all of its expectations on display for all those to view, and should she not put on a well enough performance as she often fell short of.

No one ever hid their disappointment.

Shit, Shoko had never been impressed with the concept of the holidays. Really, the only enjoyment she found in the season was the early outs from school, and well, when things were simpler. When Gojo and Geto would laugh, engage in snowball fights in the courtyard as though they were small children. Like elementary students, when things were simpler.

When she could smile.

These days, your girlfriend has very little interest in engaging in the holiday festivities. It’s not so much that she is downright hateful at the prospect. Shoko has no intentions of robbing the Whos of Christmas, but that beign said, she has no real emotional investment either. Her involvement will be for your sole amusement only. Even then, she’s tired, and on a limited battery.

Actually, Shoko can be rather giving of what limited time she has accumulated, so long as it’s not a forced participation. Do not guilt her, nor make her feel as though there are ultimatums attached to her absence, or her enrollment. Such consequences will not end well with your partner, but surely you knew this before you committed to this relationship.

You’ll hear no complains if you choose to visit friends and family, bar crawl, or even adventure past your borders to conquer every party that you can find, or investigate any vendors you come across. Really, have fun.

She wants you to have fun.

Truthfully, the only joy she divuldges in the holiday season, is the sweet late hours of slumber. The filter of the midday sun high in the sky as it peeks through sheer curtains. Catches her eyelashes, dances across her skin, to wake to you peering over her, the muddle of your bedhead. Stuck at odd ends, the wear of a late night relieved from your senses. The bright eyed gaze you regard her in, soft as the dimples form upon your cheeks. The blush of her finger stroked upon your cheek.

Yes, this is the moment that she lives for. One that she has craved, and is the reason why she has endured whatever holiday torture you have submitted her to. Shoko’s piece of joy.

Only brightened by the small squeal you release, as she plucks a present from beneath her pillow. The delight of the significance—the only person she has purchased a gift for in well over a decade.

Just for you.

Utahime Iori

Is a little embarrassed that she looks forward to this time of year.

Will never openly admit how excited she is, as though some part of her still clings to being a shy child. She’ll dodge questions, try to play coy as she averts her eyes when you ask what her plans are for the holiday. Mutter claims that nothing really comes to mind, perhaps she’ll just do the same old, same ol’.

It’s a ploy.

A down right lie. She knows exactly what she will be doing, and if you have progressed in your relationship, Utahime will still be a bit dodgy with her openness, but you’ll find small ways of being pulled into her traditions.

It’s not that she’s intentionally skipping yours over, and in fact, if you are an avid holiday celebrator yourself, you’ll find her interest peek. If you have a certain gingerbread recipe, one that demands a multitude of steps, she will watch your precision with peaked interest.

Peeked over your shoulder, leaned meticulously in as if to absorb all of the information you have to offer. The precision of your knife, patterns traced on parchment. Each line thought out with great care, and calculated angles to ensure that your gingerbread house mansion will stand through the festivities.

Iori adores observing your traditions, regardless of w hat holiday you dedicate yourself to, or religious practices. To be included means a great deal for her, and while she may not understand everything that is happening such as  the morning mass, the sorcerer puts great care into researching prior. Doing her best to follow the motions as accurately as you demonstrate.

Smiles to herself at the significance of being included.

The small blush that claims her cheeks, paints to the tip of her nose and the ends of her ears only maintained dignity beneath her hair upon the openness in which you open the door of your family home, happy to share holiday traditions with your girlfriend, and those you love.

Obviously shy at first, will do her best to appear small, and out of the way.

Gradually puts herself to work.

Fixing dim lightbulbs upon the Christmas tree. Assisting the freeing of dolls and trucks from packaging. Happily greeting family pets, allowing them out for a moment of peace from the probing children. Before she inevitably builds the confidence to requests tasks.

Your mother juggling multiple dishes between an oven and a skillet, Utahime will ask if there is anything she can do for her, and despite your mother’s polite refusal, your partner’s ability to rescue the dinner rolls from certain doom is greatly appreciated.

Before she knows it, she has handed task after task.

Iori seizes opportunity to inquire casually about your upbringing. Naturally reserved, it’s almost comical at the approach she takes. Doing her best to seem as though she happened upon such topics—unaware of the side glances your siblings exchange with the smuggest of looks before diving into every horrifying memory they can muster.

Going so far as to procure baby pictures. The shy delight she finds in flipping through them.

Not that Utahime minds, she finds comfort in the way that she has been greeted by your family. A small wish pressed in the back of her mind, as to how naturally it all feels to be embraced amongst your childhood home. Imagines the future that could be born of such familiarity.

How your own home might blossom with the bustle of the holidays.

Now, if you are not one who has any particular attachment to traditions, or none worth departing into your relationship in your opinion, you will find that Utahime is bashful. She’ll do her best to tip toe around the conversation, shyly leaving boxes of ornaments in view, frosting backs of sorted colors, temple fliers to mark the upcoming visits, and any information of upcoming Christmas markets.

Each intentionally placed in view, praying that you will bridge the topic with some interest, rather than shuffle it to the side out of your way.

If you do, she’ll swallow her pride and ask if by any chance—would you like to go to the temple with her? However, you’d be missing out on the opportunity to see the heat come to her cheeks, the press of a smile, and blossomed joy as she imparts off the information she has gathered about the Christmas markets that will take place upon your inquiries. You’re unsure of what a Christmas market is? She’s happy to show you.

Fingers linked between one another as she gently pulls you forward, delighted in the displays, in the treats. Warmed by the Christmas lights, the holiday music, and cheer that bustles amongst vendor to vender. Children delighted, and curious, bearing so much similarity to your companion in a way that draws for warmth and appreciation of your time together.

The holiday season really does bring out child wonder in Utahime.

She’ll write in her diary about this day, and peek back at it every so often.

A beautiful memory.

Toji Fushiguro

The approach of the holiday season brings forth many joys. Generous gifts, meticulously placed decorations that spark a sense of wonder, nostalgia of familiar pastries, and good tidings all around, but not for the cast away Zenin.

I would say that there is a touch of cynicism that threatens Toji’s approach to the holiday season. His upbringing less than affectionate, but because of this—he is fairly indifferent to this time of year.

 you’ll meet a scoff of a laugh, one that bites down realities before shrugging at the quip of his lips. “Couldn’t say,” simple and precise. Nothing more departed. Because truthfully, he really couldn’t give a shit less.

Well, assuming one of the bastards hasn’t sent a holiday card through the mail. The sweet impart of well wishes for the upcoming new year will wring out every bit of irony and hypocrisy. Would absolutely send something in return, merely as a slap to the face. Whatever infringement he can mustard. Even if it’s an explicit image of him fucking you, he hopes it ruins their fucking day.

Smug as hell as he drops it off with the post master.

Assuming he didn’t just hand deliver it along side a bag of candy dicks.

Overall, Toji is fairly indifferent to the holiday season as a whole, and as he grew older and older, it really meant… absolutely noting. He felt no animosity towards family on the street delighting in their wares and intentions to sneak goodies from fat man. It’s a little creepy, but if it makes them happy. He really could careless.

The 25th is the same as the 26th, cold. Loud, and sometimes with good food to snatch.

In correlation to his children, you’ll find that Toji is more willing to attempt the holiday cheer—well, in his own approach. While he for one has no interest, nor the capabilities of bridging the topic with his children. He has no desires to share tales of a jolly fat man who can squeeze down nooks and crannies, commit breaking and entering, and peep on them in their beds.

He does enjoy the opportunity to ambush them from their walk home from elementary school, completely blindsided that he has come to pick them up from their educational track by an onslaught of snowballs to the face.

No one is safe.

He is in it to win, and does not mind any potential bloodshed that will come of it. I promise he has hit one of them hard enough to elicit a nosebleed. It’s all in good fun, and encourages that they return the sentiment.

Megumi will never admit that this was the side of his father that was rare, small slips of a man that appear in his distant memories. Ones in which he was free, unbound by jujetsu norms, and just.

Present.

Happy.

 But, that does not mean, the acclaimed Fushiguro is not in tune with the desires of his children, even if he does not speak to them.

He’ll put in more hours. Press for more opportunities to snub out problems curses and sorcerers alike for a bit of extra pocket cash, an haunting figure amongst holiday shoppers as he picks up items he noticed drawing his children’s attention, or hinted at in their expressions.

But Toji really doesn’t fucking care who the gift is from. In fact, he’ll intentionally leave the package blank. Knowing all too well that it will occur to neither child that their father is the sender of the package. They received it is enough.

You can expect his approach to giving you a git to be the same. He is observant, and well he may struggle to align a majority of emotional needs, Fushiguro is familiar enough with your likes and dislikes to select a gift you will enjoy. Even if it is something as small as your favorite cookies.

Offered in the most disinterested way, nonchalant as mentioning it or pulling it from his pocket on his way out. “Later,” under his breath, turned over his shoulder to hide the small smile that catches his lips, the sparkling aura you illuminate just a little to bright for his eyes, as he slinks off.

Back to the gambling den.

He is admittedly, a little busier this time of year, but as a sign of good faith, he is willing to entertain pushing a majority of request to the side when he sees the dimple between your eyebrows, and how you struggle to swallow back the bitter realization that a majority of families are not only astray, but downright treacherous. However, a higher bid cannot be ignored.

Really, that’s the only part of the holiday season that bring the assassin any sense of satisfaction. The opportunity for a higher payday, but the fact that his time is for the most part free. Unsolicited. Available.

The ability to divulge himself in whatever pleasures he desires.

Fushiguro can filter through requests, select high ticket missions. Lord knows the season not only brings out the worst in others, but it also dulls the senses of a majority of targets. Easy payout, and he’s home in time for breakfast, or he can wonder off to the gambling din. The round of desperation, indulgent depression tipped in his favor, easy money, or there are more opportunities that are even more delectable than coin.

Toji is more than aware that this time of year, brings out a certain generosity in you, a small spark of adventure, and willingness to indulge yourself.

Suddenly, you’ll find yourself filled to the brim with holiday cheer.

The opportunity to distract you from whatever mundane task you insist is necessary for the celebration is far too tempting. How far can he push you, until you break. Whining obscenities, puddy between his fingers. Desperate for his touch, gnawing back weakness, sputtering and pitiful.

That’s alright sweetheart, let me fulfill your wish list.

Yuki Tsukumo

Absolutely unapologetic in her freelance approach to the holiday season.

Will shamelessly drag her partner into her antics.

The thing is, and it may not surprise you by any means, Tsukumo has absolutely no attachments to long standing holiday traditions. Such detachment from family is a side effect of being offered up to Tengen. It’s not that she outright discourages you from engaging in whatever rituals you have opted to keep alive from your childhood. Depending on it, she’ll find it fun, and even cute.

If she’s being honest, and let’s be honest, Yuki believes that open communication regardless of how blunt is the appropriate approach in a relationship, she finds  a majority of traditions… annoying. The concept that one should dip into their pockets to satisfy greed, the meaty underbelly of the holiday season that depicts itself as generosity, and acceptance is anything but. She has witnessed a number of individuals struggling to conform to the season, and a number of would be celebrators ostracized by families.

Unwelcomed.

Displaced.

She’s not outright denying dropping in for some holiday shenanigans with your parents, but should the opportunity present itself, she’d rather allow herself to drift amongst the winter seasons.

This time of year certainly has a tendency to bring out the worst in the human population, and a sudden fluctuation in cursed spirits is to be expected as a natural epidemic worldwide, and as such, Yuki welcomes tossing holiday constrictions to the side, but not outright abandoning.

Rather, she’d rather make the most of the environment she has wandered into. She’s not going to let the lack of unfamiliar faces dip into her spirits. Yuki is thrilled to have happened upon foreign celebrations. The adorable plays put on by children in the African continent, Anyone who has not experienced chakalaka is missing out in her opinion.

The year she wandered into a mystifying scene of las posadas, a procession that ranged with candles, and peace. Beautiful and enchanting amongst the night sky, savoring colemono, and the joy of children expressing how a baby brought their gifts.

The bar crawl expedited through out all of Europe upon this time of year, the flavors ,the joy, strangers intermingled, and the wide languages that greeted her arrival.

Depictions of Santa jamming on a saxophone, and the sweetness of a peace apple between her teeth.

Tsukumo really just cannot understand the appeal of remaining stagnant during such a wonderful time of year, and would much rather her wanderlust to guide her holiday. To welcome embrace and cheer by strangers, unfamiliar faces, and unusual foods.

The food is amongst the selling points; she has always enjoyed her food, and the opportunity to explore the unfamiliar accustoms is topped off only by the cuisine. She’s adventurous enough to try anything, regardless of how obscure the ingredients may be, but be aware that your partner does not mine openly spitting it out if it does not meet her palette.

Yuki is confident, and as such, you will find the natural way that she can enter the holiday season, welcomed amongst travelers, cross country explorations. The best part of this time is year is how effortlessly she releases expectations. Cast away duties, rules, and traditions. The road before her, your arms threaded around her, your cheek pressed into the leather of her jacket.

The possibilities before the two of you.

An entire world to unfold, and places to go.

Waking up in unfamiliar places, you pressed into her breast, shamelessly flaunting her figure and delighted in stirring you at early morning hours. Allowing herself the opportunity to part her appreciation for your company on this trip between pressed kisses that litter your body, uttered merry Christmas between small nips. Teasing, playful.

Squeezed in time together.

You, your presence is the only gift she needs.

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[azucar-skull]

Tips on how to get cheap food:

As someone who has to steal, ration, and coupon my way through a family crisis, here are some tips to help you out too.

1) Stealing

Yes, stealing is unlawful but not unethical if you play your cards right. Don't go for local markets, attack big chain corporations do to some real damage.

3 things are required to pull this off successfully. 1, keep items to a minimum. 2, use self-checkout. 3, shop during the rush hour.

In my case, there's a chain supermarket nearby a high-school. When the students are out for lunch, most head to the store and the place gets waaaay too packed for staff to supervise self-checkout. I use a basket and grab what I need and then go to self checkout and scan only 1 item (usually a $0.50 sauce cup). I save roughly $20 during each visit.

2) Coupons

Ever received coupons in the mail? Hold onto them. Remember the expirations. And map out your orders wisely.

For me, I use Fetch Awards to earn gift cards from time to time. Idgaf if it's a ploy to seller consumer information for advertising, that shit fucking works and honestly I just need food ffs.

I currently have a $10 gift card for Panera where I'm going to buy me a big baguette sandwich and Mac n cheese. A $24 order for the price of $14 and it'll last me 5 meals when rationed.

3) Too Good To Go

TGTG is an app that helps prevent good waste. Local businesses that have "sell-by-date" foods, would make a surprise goodie bag of whatever leftovers they have and sell them for like $5 instead of $20. You get cheap dinner for the night and help prevent food waste. A win-win for everyone.

4) Rationing

You know how GEM Casey had to ration? Yeah. Guess who he got his skills from...

Know your limits and what you can handle. For my disabled folk, this one will be very hard. But still possible.

For me, I can't eat a lot in one sitting and I use this to my advantage. I meant it when I said my usual Panera order would last me 5 meals, my stomach is tiny lmfao. If I space my meal time correctly, I can get by on 1 or 2 meals a day.

*This is borderline ARFID eating disorder. If anyone has seen my tiktoks from pre-pandemic you could see a major difference in my shape. That was because I used to ration 1 meal a day and a "meal" would be microwave popcorn. Please be careful when rationing or else you will slip into ARFID just like me and GEM Casey. Only resort to this method when it's your only option left.

Bonus:

It helps if you dress somewhat decent. Unfortunately, those in poor clothing are almost immediately kicked out or kept a close suspicious eye on because they look homeless and have no money and will probably steal. In a world with every person for themselves, if you are able to, dress decent enough so that you don't stand out. It'll lower suspicion.

.

Those are my tips on eating cheap. Good for college students lmfao. Also dw about me, I'm okay. Yes, supplies are low again, but like I said I'm gonna steal from the store today and go to Panera. So I'll have..*does math* 25 meals for the price of $14.60--

Damn! Ikr? I'll be fine, dw. 😎👍

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Name: Jamie Alrick

Age: 23

Occupation: NWR#1 Fireman

Likes: The cold, chocolate, photography and RPG games

Dislikes: being hot, narcissists, tight clothes and being late

Bio: Born on Sodor to Richard and Alice Alrick in March of 2000. Unfortunately, Rick's wife Alice was infertile so a surrogate was needed. Even more unfortunate is that the surrogate (that was randomly chosen) was the rich CEO of a British-American business empire, Janice Weddle. When her only son died in 2007, she took the Alricks to court over custody for Jamie. She won in 2008 due to less than ethical means, taking Jamie from the loving family he had grown up in and placing him into a cold and calculated corporation where his every move was judged. He was put under severe stress. All he wanted was to go home, but he was alone in a different country, so he could only revel in the small comforts, like the gifts his family on Sodor would send him for Christmas and his birthday, which were irreplaceable.

He ran away from home in 2016, living on the streets for 2 years before he scrounged up enough money for a plane ticket to England, where he showed up at the Alrick household back on Sodor. He was welcomed with open arms, but the trauma from his childhood made it hard for him to acclimate to a more relaxed environment.

He moved to the mainland in 2019 for studies and work, enjoying being on his own greatly, until he received a call from his mother in early 2023 urgently sending for him to return to Sodor due to his father's untimely passing.

Name: Amilea Lilian Collins

Age:21

Occupation: NWR #12 fireman

Likes: sweets, the fall season, steam locomotives, knifes

Dislikes: Bigotry, the summer, Spicy food, being bossed around

Personality: she's sly sarcastic but never rude she tries her best to be as open minded and friendly as possible

Bio: Born in September of 2003 to her family her mother, Lidia Collins, her father, Maxwell Collins, and her brother, Ashton Collins. Most of her early childhood, Amilea naturally gravitated to her female classmates, which Maxwell found especially concerning because Amilea was AMAB.

During her later years, she discovered herself and transitioned with the support of her mother and brother.

However, her father kicked her out, devastating her. Luckily, her brother took her in while he worked at the NRM. It was then that she developed her love for locomotives of all types.

In her spare time, she worked on heritage railways all over the UK. It helped that her brother was recently promoted to lead mechologist for the NRM, and she used him as a reference to get on the footplate of some of the most famous preserved engines in the UK.

She applied to the NWR as soon as she hit 21 for an engine crew position. She got an interview, so she traveled to the small island of Sodor by rail, where she met someone who she thought could use a hand.

She was never extroverted, but if she got the job, it could be worth it if she tried to present herself as she always wanted to. So, she went up to him, offering her help.

When they went their separate ways, he seemed in higher spirits, and Ami felt glad that she could help someone in need.

Unfortunately, her interview had to be postponed to a few days later due to an emergency. But when she finally did get her interview, she was hired.

She found a studio apartment near Arlesburgh. It wasn't cheap, but it was leagues cheaper than an apartment in Tidmouth. Her brother helped her move everything in, wishing her the best in starting this new chapter of her life.

Name: Riley Mcdoon

Age: 26

Occupation: NWR#6 fireman

Likes: older woman, programming, hanging out with his drinking buddies and musicals

Dislikes: keith, rain, and snow

Personality: burtaly honest but rude hell tell you when your outta line or have to shape up but when your on his good side he's funny and charming

Bio: Born in Wales in August of 1997 to Michael and Ashley McDoon, he inherited his Irish accent from.

During his early childhood to late teens, he was a troublemaker and was on a first-name basis with almost every officer in Cardiff. However, by the time he went to college, he mellowed out while volunteering on the Talyllyn Railway.

He inherited a house in Ffarquhar from his great aunt and moved there. Originally hired as a signalman on the North Western, after he completed his training, he became a fireman and has been doing it ever since.

Name: Phi Montley

Age: 23

Occupation: NWR#7 Fireman

Likes: being left alone, the sounds of steam engines, Toby, walks in the forest

Dislikes:loud noises, people, crowed spaces, tomatoes

Personality: quite and rarely speaks but if you piss them off you will wish you Hadn't

Bio: Born in January of 2000, Phi had a good early life. They and their mother, Melissa Montley, lived in Ffarquhar until 2008, when a car accident claimed her life.

Unfortunately, the accident had a lasting effect on Phi. They didn't speak for almost a year afterward, and when they finally did, it was only to warn her grandfather, Wilfred (who was now their guardian), about a plank of wood that was going to hit him in the head.

Phi still lived in Ffarquhar for most of their life after their mother's accident. They tried moving away a few times, but it never worked out.

Wilfred was just happy to have someone around after the death of his wife and child. Years later, he did everything he possibly could to look after Phi.

Phi came out as non-binary shortly before working with their grandfather on the North Western Railway. They had their name changed right before applying.

They deal with anger issues often, almost resulting in violence. But with both Toby and Wilfred, they managed to stay grounded and not lose their cool often.

Their hot-headedness earned them the nickname "the phoenix of Ffarquhar" for their temper and good looks.

Name: Wilfred Montley

Age:63

Occupation: NWR#7 Driver

Likes: tea, hiking, kayaking, cooking

Dislikes: being lied too, bland food, being used, Loud music

Personality: as kind and loyal as they come Wilfred and his engine are the best to come too if you need advice he's always willing to lend a hand

Bio: Born in June of 1960, Wilfred was abandoned on the steps of St. Tibba's Nunnery in Welsworth, where he was raised. When he was 16, he got a job as a cleaner for the NWR on the Suddery Branchline.

By the time he turned 18, he was a fireman, moving from place to place and never being stuck to one engine for long before being transferred to Ffarquhar in 1980 as a fireman for Toby.

That same year, he fell in love with a local shopkeeper's daughter named Roselyn, whose father owned the tramway. By 1982, they got married and bought a home in Ffarquhar. In 1983, his daughter Melissa was born. Unfortunately, Roselyn died in childbirth.

Raising a daughter on his own was hard work. By 1985, he became Toby's driver. Some semblance of normalcy returned to their lives as Melissa grew. Wilfred would often sneak Melissa onto the footplate on her days off from school.

By 1999, Melissa found love of her own in a high-school love story in the making. Unfortunately, carelessness led to Melissa getting pregnant that same year, but her father helped and supported her, even when her "partner" ran off.

All was well; the little one was born with no serious problems, and his daughter survived the ordeal. Unfortunately, in 2008, Melissa passed away in a car accident in Tidmouth. The accident permanently affected Wilfred, with the only thing keeping him going during the next few years being his grandchild.

However, Phi took the accident hard. They screamed for their mother to return home so much that they started coughing up blood, damaging their vocal cords.

After that, they didn't speak for a year, only finally speaking when Wilfred was doing some housework and a plank of wood he had propped against a wall started falling toward him (which still hit him because he was in shock of hearing his grandchild's voice for the first time in a year).

After that, they started talking more, little by little. Eventually, the years passed them both by, and "Phi," as they started to call themselves, was 18. They tried moving away, but no one understood Phi like their grandfather, so in Ffarquhar they stayed.

When Phi turned 20, they applied to work for the NWR on the Ffarquhar Branchline and passed both the interview and training with flying colors.

When Phi approached Wilfred about wanting Phi to be their legal name, he took them the same day to get it changed. In that same conversation, they came out as non-binary. Wilfred didn't care; he loved his grandchild all the same.

They have worked together since, helping Toby and Henrietta work the Ffarquhar tramway.

Name: Adalyn Aberdeen

Age:53

Occupation: NWR D#3 Driver

Likes: warm weather, fancy clothes, wine, railway Galas

Dislikes: rain, snow, children, slobs

Personality: posh but not insufferable she acts more like the mother figure of the Ffarquhar crews and she loves to gossip over wine with Wilfred after a day's work

Bio: Born in 1970 in Manchester, her father was a railwayman through and through. She would often spend her early childhood watching the locomotives of the London Midland Region thunder by her childhood home.

When she was 16, her father would bring her along to help start up the locomotives. She took a liking to the engines, and slowly but surely, they took a liking to her, blossoming her love for diesel engines.

She would help out cleaning the sheds or cabs of the brand new diesels. After she graduated high school, she wanted a job working with her father, but she was denied. Even after many attempts, still nothing. She tried for any position they had open, and every one was denied (which she suspected was because of her gender).

Fed up, she tried one last time, but she made a mistake on the address of the letter, and it was sent to Sodor, where she was hired as an engine driver immediately.

Sodor was in a shortage for anyone with experience working with diesel locomotives, or anyone who wanted to. The interest was in the older steam engines, so when they got a resume from the Midlands, they hired her on the spot.

When she realized her mistake, it was too late, but she figured she would be turned away regardless.

Much to her surprise, a letter showed up a week later asking if she could do an in-person interview on the island of Sodor.

Her surprise only grew when she got to the small island and got the job. With what little savings she had, she rented an apartment in Knapford and started work. She was the first female diesel driver in the island's history.

It didn't take long for her and her engine, Daisy, to warm up to one another, and she works the same service to this day. Some would say doing the same job for so long would get boring, but Adalyn and Daisy know that on Sodor, there's never a dull moment.

Name: Keith Williams

Age:20

Occupation: NWR #6 Diver

Likes:wealth, praise,being in charge, men

Dislikes: being told he's wrong, not being in control, alcohol,

Personality: rude stuck up and arrogant it'd hard to imagine how he got a job on the NWR

Bio: Born in 2003, he was adopted by two very wealthy people who always wanted an heir to their business empire. He was raised with a golden spoon in his mouth; as a child, he was never told no. He naturally developed a love for locomotives from watching Thomas and Friends.

As he grew older, so did his passion, until he went to see The Flying Scotsman when he was 13. Ever since that moment, he wanted to be an engine driver. His parents didn't understand why he wanted to do such dirty and filthy work, but as he was their only child, they humored him.

When he turned 20, they pulled some strings with the branchline manager for the Ffarquhar Branchline to have him hired as an engine driver, even though he flunked out of his engine driving test on Sodor.

He was still experienced, and it wasn't his fault that the rugged, scruffy fireman he was paired with was kinda cute but rude to him. He would have aced that training if it wasn't for him.

He got the job regardless, and they assigned him to Percy. He was upset that he wasn't assigned to a more important engine, but he took it, hoping to one day move up the ranks.

[panlight]

I got a new job and it's not ideal, lol. In honor of that, what job would each of the Cullens absolutely HATE to do? Either because of their powers or because of the personalities?

Alice would work at like a Walmart or Target or something monitoring the fitting rooms. Cheap off the rack fashion, horror!

I feel like Jasper going to high school is already a terrible idea that he would hate, so him teaching high school would also be bad? Surrounded by all those intense teenage Feelings and of course all the blood.

Carlisle, to me, is as well-adjusted as he is because of being a doctor, he feels like he is helping people, that he is putting his vampirism to good use. So a job he would hate would be something just utterly useless. Like some middle tier corporate office job where he is just filling out paperwork all day with no tangible result. Like sure doctors have lots of paperwork too but it's for something, this is just like, expenditure reports or who knows what for some faceless, soulless corporation that is inevitable harming the world.

Edward would probably hate just about anything, lol, mostly because of his gift making it unbearable. But since he hated the 60s and 70s music so much, I feel like he's got to be like, a bartender at some 70s themed bar or something. Judging everyone for drinking and loose morals and also having to listen to "terrible" music.

Rosalie is a mascot. You know one of those big character costumes so no one can see her face. She's getting attention, but getting attention for being this goofy, ugly cartoon character. (This is starting to feel more like less a terrible job and more like 'here is how they are tortured in the Bad Place). No way to maintain her dignity. And she has to see little kids with their parents all the time.

Emmett and Esme are both more of 'make the best of it' types so it's harder to come up with something they truly couldn't just kind of go along with at least to some degree. I guess Emmett having to be serious and quiet would be hard on him. Oh, he's a funeral director. Just counter to his energy in every way (although some of the clients probably find him refreshing).

Esme's on a remote scientific mission in the middle of nowhere, far away from her family for months on end. It's like, Antarctica, so no plants, no art, nothing to build, very few people and they are all dour middle aged scientists who don't need a mom figure. She still tries, though.

[we-r-loonies]

the marauders on valentine's

james

absolutely spoils his partner, like he does every day

his gifts are classy and timeless

eg. red roses, chocolates, jewelry

he would convince somebody to let him floo out of hogwarts to take his partner on an extravagant date.

being the perfect gentleman, james would slip his arm around his partner's waist as they walked. then, he'd pull their chair out for them.

after the very expensive date, that james would pay for entirely, he would escort his lover back to their dormitory.

he'd kiss them, fingers tangled in their hair. their back would veer closer to the wall, propelled by james' eagerness.

"today was fun," "it was. thank you for taking me out"

maybe he'd be invited upstairs, maybe he wouldn't. he would enjoy the night, regardless of the outcome.

sirius

he'd wake them up with a gentle kiss, still holding them close after the night before.

sirius thought that gifts were tacky, and instead, wrote a long, elegant letter.

it was adorned with deep red lipstick marks, matching the ones which remained on sirius' partners neck.

the pair would skip a day of lessons, and sit by the lake, talking about everything and nothing.

eventually, partly to avoid nosy teachers, they'd lope upstairs to the gryffindor dorm, hands intertwined.

the rest of the day would be punctuated by lazy kisses, and conversations.

instead of going down to dinner, they'd drain a bottle of red wine, and eat a feast of cheap, heart-shaped chocolates, and promptly fall deep asleep.

remus

both of them thought valentine's day was a capitalist holiday, created by corporations to sell flowers and cheap crap at double the price.

even so, remus would splash out on the fanciest box of chocolate truffles he could find in hogsmeade

and gift it to them subtly, over breakfast, smiling a little.

his partner would have bought him the exact same box, and they'd laugh over it.

after classes, they'd curl up on the sofa, and share the chocolates.

remus would play with his partner's hair as they sat in comfortable silence.

"did you see all of mary's flowers?" "im getting second-hand hayfever"

it would be like every other day: comfortable, and sweet, and in love.

peter

even if he was with his partner, he'd ask if they'd be his valentine

when they said yes, he'd smile so big

"lads, i don't know what to do? what would [they] like?"

before class, he'd pull his partner away by the hand

and give them tulips, wrapped in brown paper

a handwritten card would be fixed to the bouquet

peter's partner would kiss him on the cheek, then on the lips

dragging a thumb across their cheek, he would wish them a "happy valentine's"

in the evening, they'd sit on the windowsill, and laugh together for hours.

late, he'd walk his partner back to their common room, kissing them goodnight.

(james and sirius would coo over him the next day, relentlessly)

[beguines]

All indicators suggest that a project of ethnic cleansing is well underway in India. Minorities are being squeezed under a rubric of an all-consuming Hindu majoritarian project backed by giant oligarchs and corporations that threaten to tear apart a fragile country that has never been a nation. In the ethnocracy, no one is safe. Not journalists. Not Muslims. Not Christians. Not activists. Not even Hindus are safe if they do not conform to the fascist agenda. The assault on dignity has empowered none besides giant corporations and has turned citizens into a morass of disenfranchised subjects. The state is now firmly in the hands of a fiction called the nation.

In Kashmir, the Indian government's abrogation of the special constitutional clauses that provided certain protections over land and employment was an articulation of the expansionist project, or Akhand Bharat. The consequences have been catastrophic for Kashmiris. But Western democratic states have neither the political inclination nor the moral authority to hold Modi accountable. Delhi knows this. Meanwhile, Muslim majority countries, especially those in the Gulf, have in India an infinite resource of cheap human labor needed to build their luxury cities, a customer of energy, and now a geo-political ally. The fragile protections granted by the facade of the global capital economy has gifted Indian foreign policy a certain arrogance. India's unemployment rate is soaring. The economy has shown growth but only because of the soaring number of new billionaires. The government, meanwhile, has yet to come clean over the shocking number of Covid-19 deaths. None of these developments have gone unnoticed.

Azad Essa, Hostile Homelands: The New Alliance Between India and Israel