woot

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Since my Krampus illustration from 2009 gets stolen/traced/riffed off and sold as bootleg merch multiple times every holiday season I thought I’d let people know where to get the legit merchandise. You know, the kind where the money goes to the original artist (me) and not some lazy butthole?

Woot pays me for every piece that is sold, they are authorized to sell this design.

You can get them on greeting cards here ( might be a limited thing?) http://www.woot.com/offers/greetings-from-krampus-greeting-cards-10-pack-1?ref=cnt_wp_15_12

You can buy them on shirts here:

http://shirt.woot.com/offers/greetings-from-krampus

I also have another Krampus design for sale here:

http://www.designbyhumans.com/shop/t-shirt/greetings-from-krampus-t-shirt/10649/

Again, i get paid for these! These are safe to buy from if you care about artists being able to get paid for their work.

konata-okami asked:

my friend dragged me to this dinner so I wouldn’t be alone on thanksgiving (or any other holiday) and turns out the person I’ve been talking to online for years is related to my best friend’s fiancé. soma please. :)

Here, have some fluff.

—-

She really would have preferred to stay in for the New Year. Watch the ball drop on television three hours late. Drink some leftover eggnog and eat leftover cheese and crackers from Christmas. Maybe engage in a biannual rereading of Pride and Prejudice. Definitely spend time Skype chatting with an online friend or two. Just a nice, sane normal, New Year’s Eve in alone instead of-well, this.

It wasn’t as if Maka minded being alone, but Liz seemed to think company on New Years Eve was required, so she’d shown up on her doorstep at 6pm dressed to the nines and with a garment bag slung over one shoulder to say, “It smells of sadness and old cheese in here.” She’d shoved the bag at Maka then and added, “Get dressed. Don’t bother arguing, because we don’t have time and I’ll win anyway-you’re going to this party with me and that’s that.”

"Where’s Pat?" Maka had peered around her through her still wide open apartment door, avoiding the request.

"In the limo. But she’s only a text away to help wrangle you. Do I need help, or are you gonna play along, Albarn?”

"Limo?" She’d raised an eyebrow.

"Limo," Liz repeated. "The boy insisted." Her eyeroll at this was oddly affectionate.

"So am I calling Patti in or are you gonna stop dragging ass?"

Maka had sighed and grabbed the bag. “Yeah, alright. But can I just wear-“

"Nope, now go."

"Yeah, yeah." Maka then mumbled as she walked back towards her room, bag clutched in front of her. She laid it out in her bed and began to unzip, frowning in thought.

She’d been friends with Liz and her sister since high school when they were all on the softball team together. They were nothing alike, but somehow, they had bonded over their broken families, and the slightly older Liz had become like the big sister she’d never had. She also meddled like a big sister; Liz meant well, but sometimes her idea of ‘help’ was far less than helpful. Like all those blind dates she tried to set her up on. Or, more recently, pushing her to meet her fiancés brother. Oh, shit, her fiancés brother.

This had better not be about her fiancés brother.

Liz had been trying to get them together for months, and Maka was tired of it. She’d narrowly avoided meeting him until now, but-

"So just where are we going anyway?" She’d called over her shoulder as she eyed the dress in the bag. Short, tight, and candy apple red.

"The Evanses are having a swanky New Year’s party, and Wes thought it would be nice if you came with us seeing as you’ll be in the wedding," Liz had said casually from the other side of the door.

Maka had nearly groaned as she stalked over to her dresser to pull out her fancy strapless bra.

Oh this was definitely about her fiancés brother.

Maka had pulled the red dress on sullenly, noting in her closet mirror that it highlighted her modest curves in all the right places, and slipped on the strappy gold heels that were also in the bag before putting her hair up into a smart French twist, leaving out a few ashy strands to frame her face. A quick application of lipgloss later and she was through her bedroom door.

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