#but hey! i love christmas

[technically-human]

hows it going

[f-misc]

How do you feel about Christmas cracker jokes? Greg: You'd expect me to say they're awful, or be angry about them. But I quite like going through the motions and the family reading them out! Alex: I like the challenge of making them funny. I'm going to say something slightly arrogant: I will back myself in a family situation, even with a bad joke, to make it funny. I reckon comedians can still deliver it. I'll do it, whatever it takes.

Alex, you write the jokes for the Taskmaster Christmas crackers. What's the secret? Alex: You just write something that is really stupid and gets a groan. A groan is your friend. It's things like, which actor quenches your thirst the most? Leonardo DiCapri Sun. Greg: I mean, it's quite good. Alex: What about Danny DeVimto? Greg: I don't mind that, either.

What are your Christmas traditions? Greg: There's a tradition in my family that I believe to be barbaric. The rule is you can open gifts from Father Christmas in the morning, but all other gifts cannot be opened until the last dish has been washed following Christmas dinner. Alex: Whoa, not even after the meal? Greg: Nothing. Not until everything's been washed and everyone's sat down. I see the torture in my nieces' faces. It was almost the ruination of Christmas for me as a child.

Alex: We have a genuine tradition, where after dinner there's one pineapple, and everyone guesses the amount of leaves on the top of it. The oldest person in the household has to count the leaves. Greg: What a surprise that your family would have a weird tradition that no one else in the whole country does. Alex: They keep going. They get really small. You're looking at triple figures. You're looking at 100-plus. Greg: So in the Horne household, it's like, "Oh, gather round, now we're going to count the leaves on a pineapple?" It's like you're lost in some Victorian time loop. Alex: Well, we're not the ones banning our children from opening presents until it's dark...

'How much should you pay a short mother? Mini mum wage' GREG DAVIES

'Why did the man fall in the well? Because he couldn't see that well' ALEX HORNE

[joelsflower]

little present | bfd!joel x f!reader

you were sure christmas’s night would be, as it always is since you’ve been by yourself, boring. that’s only until sarah invites you to the miller’s house and joel makes it his mission to unwrap more than one present til midnight.

an: okay i know we’re in APRIL lmaoo sorry but read it now!! reread it in december!! do whatever!! hope u like it!! :^) also i apologize if i’m still mistaking “in/on/at” a bit too much, i’m still learning the language :/ hope it’s not too bad and doesn’t influence badly on your reading tho! no beta ops

wc: uhh… 5k maybe?

tw: titty sucking and pussy fingering combo (yay!), beginning of blowjob but that’s it, soft dom!joel, older!joel (nothing illegal pls), best friend’s dad, teasing, reader is able bodied, afab but not described; there’s one part where “your smaller body” is used but just to point she was smaller than joel. image also does not describe reader, only for visuals. no y/n. ALSO. weather not described!! shout out to us latinas who go through christmas sweating and panting 🫡 it can be snowing too tho up to you

🌹🌹🌹

You knocked three times on the door; unsure if it would sound impatient or even be heard due to the loud music and chatting coming from the inside. Sarah didn’t lie about the whole family coming this year for Christmas.

By the look on Joel’s face when he opened the door, your three knocks sounded more like the angels singing.

His big brown eyes lit up like candlelight when they found you. For a moment, you stood there in silent, letting him get drunk in your sight and you in his. The puffy bags under his eyes let you know it was a rough week, a rough week without you. The raspy, yet-to-make scruff adorning his cheeks and neck inciting your skin without even being near it. His calloused knuckles gripped the doorknob and the muscle on his bicep swelled, making your mouth water.

You let your eyes dance from his salt and pepper curls and finally to the little bit of chest peaking from the deep red plaid shirt, and when your eyes found his he broke the spell, letting out what seemed to be the first breath he took since he opened the door.

“Hi, sweetheart. Didn’t know Sarah invited you.” he shrugged weirdly, hand resting on his hip and the other on the door, like he was nervous. Due to college and construction, it’s been around one week since you’ve properly seen each other — it seemed like a whole year.

“Oh, hey santa” you joked, soft voice coaxing his tired ears, nodding to the santa hat hugging his curls. Suddenly, it was like he remembered he was wearing it and took it off, shoving it in his back pocket while making a face, biting back a smile when your giggle hit his ears.

“Uh- yeah, I wasn’t on the plans I think,” your fingers carved on the plate in your hand, and he gave you a “stop that” face, “she just called me last minute. But I have this!” you shook the plate of cookies a little, making it be noticed.

“Didn’t need t’bring anything, ya know. Just you’s enough.” silence once again put itself between the two of you, and if you were losing your mind, Joel could bet he was losing his a lot more harder. Opening the door to find the only sight that could relief his tired eyes on a beautiful red dress that hugged your body perfectly, matching see-through black thighs that allowed him to see just enough to drive him crazy and the need for comfort that he could well read in your gaze was not on his list, but was definitely a present.

Not being able to properly talk or touch you was feeling more like being on santa’s badlist, though. And maybe it was what he deserved, he thought, for fucking his daughter’s best friend and enjoying it so much.

You brought him back to life. What was he supposed to do if not give you the world and the best orgasms in it?

“Uh- come on in, then” he shook his desire away, holding the door open and watching as you passed by him.

One foot past the door and the chatter got louder. Uncles and sisters and cousins of cousins of cousins — there were a lot of Millers in this world, and all of them would be a problem if you wanted just a bit of closeness to Joel tonight.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller,” you looked up at him shyly, hoping treating him more formally would get you away in case anyone heard anything. Joel, on the other side, could not be less subtle while losing control of how hard he closed the door when your silky voice hit his ears, saying his name, thanking him. Just like you did when he held your wrists up your head and made your foggy bambi eyes roll back your head.

“Here,” he took the santa hat in his hands, stepping closer to put it in your head. The way his fingers carefully put your hair behind your ear set your body on fire, just the slight brush of its tips on your earlobe, the soft but swift strokes on your scalp to put your hair in place sending cold breezes up and down your spine.

“I missed you,” you whispered, lashes flourishing while your fingers boldly played the buttons of his flannel. You just needed to touch him.

But he didn’t answer right away, too focused on “putting the damn thing on your head”, which translates to an excuse to caressing your face and being close enough your sweet, peachy smell invaded his nostrils and messed with his brain chemistry.

“All done” your glossy eyes and quivering lips broke his heart in a million; all he wanted to do was take you in his arms right there. “Later, angel” he reassured you, taking your hand off of his shirt and giving you a softer look, that you knew was his way of apologising and comforting you for now. It was too risky, you knew that too.

“Oh gosh, you’re here, finally!” Sarah jumped on you for a hug, scaring the two of you, her bubbly energy warming you up. “Jesus dad, knew you’d hate it,” she gestured to the hat on your head, filling your mind with thoughts of him. “C’mon, you need to meet cousin Maria!” she dragged you away, the only thing connecting you to Joel being the lingering gaze you’d share for the rest of the night.

🌹🌹🌹

“Ha! Remember that, brother?” Tommy laughed about a story old enough to be your age; about one time him, Joel and their other cousin Frank went fishing and something apparently went wrong, you weren’t really paying attention though.

Not when Joel’s hand had found your knee under the table.

You just had to sit by his side cause Sarah wanted to be close to Maria that was close to Tommy that was close to someone else and the seat by Joel’s side ended up being the only one empty.

“Sit there by dad’s side, he doesn’t care. Here, gimme this,” she took the plate of sweets from your hands, setting it on the table. Joel, who was praying someone could come save him from hearing the same story for the 10th time, made space for you to pull the chair and accommodate your smaller figure by his side.

Around ten minutes into chatting with Sarah and Maria and taking food from left to right on the table, you felt his knee brush yours. The simple warmth of physical connection between the two of you made your whole body vigilant, in hopes for some more.

“Ya should be there, Sarah. Never not funny seeing your old man struggling t’get some fish” Tommy looked towards you, meeting Sarah’s and Maria’s giggles. Joel bit back a laugh, it was funny, yes, but he didn’t want to look like a stupid old man to you. That’s when you met him with a small smile and a brush of your thigh on his, inviting his hand to instinctively envelope your knee.

“Oh, I’ve seen him struggle to do less, believe me”

And I’ve seen him do more with the stamina of a teenage boy, you thought.

Joel’s hand snaked up a bit more into your leg, always careful to not be seen, but stern enough to make you feel him, invading the area of your inner thigh and dragging your dress up a little. The warmth of his large palm against the material pressing at your skin was driving you insane, the way his fingers were digging into your soft but covered flesh and his thumb squeezing at your outer thigh making your core pulse and the hairs at your neck stir up.

Mine, ran through his head.

“Both of you are on my badlist tonight, hope y’know that” he seriously pointed at Sarah and Tommy, giving them an angry-like look and the ones around you bursted laughing. You reached down a hand to lay on top of his, your smaller fingers gripping his much bigger pointer one, his thumb immediately brushing your hand, his way of saying “you’re not”.

🌹🌹🌹

“I think I need some air” you told Sarah as you got up from the couch and released her hand. Your tummy was full and your eyes were starting to get heavy. From the other side of the room, Joel’s eyes followed you to the balcony.

The peace of the outside of the house was everything you needed, trying to keep your mind from the trap of going into the Joel Joel Joel Joel to risky risky risky spiral. The moon lit up the sky and kissed your rosy cheeks, the singing of the crickets taking you away from all the buzz.

Just when you closed your eyes and breathed in the december air, you jumped when a strong hold surrounded your waist, the warmth of his chest hugging your back.

“Jesus, I— they’ll see us” you panicked.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” his other hand spread to pet on your tummy, paired with a kiss to your temple, “I checked, no one’s near. Wouldn’t want t’share you with anyone though, would I? Looking like my own little cherry on this dress” his fingers gripped the dress deep, sliding it up and down your waist a bit.

“I missed you so much” you turned around in his hold, arms wrapping around his neck and tugging at the curls at the base of his scalp. On your tiptoes you glued your body to his, closest as you could get, taking in the strong smell of his cologne that made your insides twirl. One of his hands danced down your spine to rest on your lower back, while the other held the back of your neck.

“Oh angel, missed you too, s’much. Can’t go a day without thinking about you, little one.” His deep voice whispered on your ear. Joel firmed his feet on the ground and swayed your bodies slowly left to right, calming you down. “Thinking about holding you, having you with me. About hearing your voice call me from the other side of the house and moan my name when I’m knuckle deep inside ya’”

“Joel!” You snapped his arm a little, staring into his eyes in disbelief.

“Am I lying?” he looked down at you with his rounded brown eyes, the same that could get you on your knees, mouth hanging open, with this exact same look he was giving you now. You shook your head slowly, fingers anchoring his shirt, “know you love it, baby, I love it too. Shit, should’ve found a way to see you earlier. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He rested his forehead on yours.

You distanced your head back and looked towards the living room, checking to see if you were still safe from prying eyes “want more of you,” you whispered.

Joel smirked, “Later baby, ‘kay?”

You stared up at him, no confirmation.

“Hm? Can you be my good girl and be patient?” He held your chin up with his thumb and pointer, forcing your gaze to be on his and nowhere else, “G’na be worth the wait, promise. But you need to be good f’me. Can you do that?”

“I can” you murmured, eyes closing as his hands found your sides and gave them a firm squeeze.

“Know y’can, darling. My best girl.”

🌹🌹🌹

“Shhh, c’mon angel. Know these precious little sounds belong to me only,” Joel’s deepened voice vibrated on your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and making your head go foggy.

It was a combination of it all, to be honest; his hot mouth and beard on your neck, you only in your underwear and thighs and him fully clothed, his thumbs mercilessly circling your nipples through your bra and his very hard bulge grinding against your pussy and his whole weight pressing you down against his bed.

It started when you both came back to the living room — in separate moments, of course — and then you needed to go the bathroom but the one downstairs was occupied and Joel suddenly needed to check on something very important in his room.

“P-Please, Joel,” you cooed, the pool in your cunt becoming unbearable, your wetness overtaking your poor excuse of panties and messing the front of his jeans.

“‘S okay baby, gonna take care of you,” he gave your mouth a peck, hands releasing your stiffed nipples to hold your face in his hand so his tongue could invade your mouth. “I’ma bad old man, ain’t I? Making my little girl wait for so long to feel good. Fisting my cock the whole week, thinking ‘bout this pussy swallowing me in. Bad, bad man.” you shook your head no in a desperate side-to-side move, fingers gripping his shoulders, as if taking his shirt off, but his force was pinning you down just right.

A sudden grind of his hips into yours and tears pooled on your waterlines, your hands stilling and your throat holding back a moan while Joel groaned at the feeling of his hard cock rocking against you. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, princess? To feel so, so good?” Another desperate nod. “Shh, c’mon baby. G’na make you cum for the week we lost.”

Joel used his hands to lift you by your armpits and sit you against his headboard, lowering his body and dragging your lacy thighs with him, torturously slowly. Now he was face-to-face with your covered pussy, “oh, poor baby. Feel her, angel,” he pressed his thumb up and down your core, your wetness gluing your panties to your slit, overflowing a bit around the lacy edges. “So desperate to be touched, ain’t she? Just waiting for me to take care of her. I will baby, don’t worry. Been such a good little girl f’me. Gonna stuff you full in a minute”

He finally tangled his fingers on the thin stripes of your panties, but first giving the little bow on top of it a little kiss. “My little present,” he murmured, more to himself then to you, but smirking when your core pulsed with his words.

The moment Joel’s fingers slid the lace down your legs and his hot breath ghosted your pussy, you were a goner; all your fuzzy brain could focus on were the strong pressure of his tongue on your clit and his fingers patiently circling your hole.

“Let me in, angel,” he begged and started to push two of his digits inside your pussy, his head now on the level of your cleavage, keeping himself from missing the reaction of his own little Christmas angel being finger fucked by him.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open, making a little “o” shape when two of his thick fingers spread you open all at once, making you just so full. “My tight little princess,” he cooed, looking down at your pussy swallowing his fingers in and out, your juice covering his knuckles with each pump, deeper and deeper. The slick sounds of the obscene act you two were dwelling in almost distracted you from hearing Joel’s “who’s pussy is this?”

Instead of answering, your smaller hands held his face and pulled him into a kiss, a very wet, hot kiss, his tongue making home for itself inside your mouth and twirling around your own, teeth grazing at your lower lip hard enough to leave a mark and soft enough to leave you wanting more.

“It’s yours, Joel,” you finally gave him what he wanted, a string of spit connecting the two of you.

“Tha’s my girl.” He curled his fingers to brush at that spot that made your head cloudy and the back of your eyelids starry, pulling the sweetest, most desperate moan from your wet lips (both of them). “And tha’s my pussy, hm?” He watch attentively as your eyes got too hazy and your mouth too open to process what he was saying, “poor little thing, so good can’t even think straight.”

You caught Joel by surprise though, when your hand found his clothed cock, giving your best to grab at it as hard as you could, stroking him with your palm and thumb. Even so lazily, the action drove him crazy enough to lose himself in your neck, fingers still fucking your pussy full and beard leaving marks all over your skin.

Joel allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your hot, pulsing cunt strangling his fingers and your small hand palming his cock to lower his head a little bit, teeth pulling your excuse of a bra to the side (or trying).

“J-Joel,” you plead, the delicate lace of your lingerie ripping like paper in between his teeth.

“G’na get you a new one, love. Lot’s of new ones.” He spent no time, greedily sucking one of your tits into his mouth, tongue languidly abusing your nipple. His mustache hurting the soft skin of the area while his warm spit and velvety lips caressed the burn.

Feeling your pussy pulse and pull him hard, Joel increased the pace of his fingers inside you and directed his attention to your other boob too, his spit lingering all over your chest. “Pussy gripping me real tight, baby, wanna cum, don’t ya? I’ll let ya, c’mon. Cum all over me, little girl.”

And you did. Pussy squirming his fingers and almost making them a part of your own body, lips hanging open with nonsense babble followed by muffled moans and cries, nipples stiff and hard by the overstimulation.

His own little present, as he himself put. All for him.

Joel helped you calm down with sweet kisses to your cheeks and lots of “did so good to me, my little angel”, “missed you having you like this”, “my best girl, makes me so happy, baby”.

“Y’with me?” he nosed at your temple and noticed your eyes turn brighter, the small nod of your head bringing you back to a fully conscious state of mind.

“Open.” he positioned the tip of the fingers that were once inside you on your lower lip, your mouth instinctively hanging open to welcome him inside. “That’s it, ‘atta girl,” he rewarded as you sucked his fingers clean from your own mess, realising why his eyes became so dark with the action.

He hadn’t come yet.

You pulled your mouth from his fingers and kneeled between him and the bed, hands gripping his bulge shamelessly.

“Still gotta clean you up, angel. C’mon, we can do that later. Jus’ wanted t’take care of you.” he held your chin up to gather your attention, a failed attempt, you knew he needed it as much as you.

“‘S okay, I wanna. Just gonna suck on it a little.”

“My sweet girl,” Joel complimented as his palm held the whole side of your face, your bambi gaze distracting him while you worked both his pants and underwear down his legs.

With your mouth only inches away from his girthy, veiny cock that was proudly bouncing in front of your face, you gripped at the thick hairs at his base and gave the swollen, ruddy tip a mouth-open kiss, silky lips enveloping the head while his precum oozed down your tongue and a deep groan left his throat, your fingers gripping his base as your thumbs caressed his balls. You found his gaze again, pulling the most sincere, grateful and innocent look you had.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

🌹🌹🌹

[lonelyzarquon]

[charpim4ever]

cherry Dropping before carti does 💔💔 lowkey crazy….

also..

love yuo my twizzies

(lost 2 followers but we still GOOD)

[420catz]

Happy Holidays!

[duckzz]

i would DIE for cumulus and cirrus with 3 or 5 for the mistletoe thing 🧡🧡🧡🧡 my lesbian heart would be so happy

our sweet girls 🩷

prompts <3

[chaosduckies]

New Years Resolutions!

[seasonalberries]

One more time for old times sake

[1nt3rnalpu7ref4ct10n]

s4e17

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

I wonder if Anne gets how terrible Marcy and Sasha's family situations are. I wonder if she understands the way they understand each other.

[verfound]

FIC: "Christmas Eves with You" (MLB; LBSC Secret Sprint Santa 2024)

Characters/Pairings: Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, and all Luka and Marinette want is to spend it with each other.  That’s not too much to ask for, right?

Author’s Notes/Warnings: Happy Christmas, Giftee McGifterson @rierse!  You had some really great prompts, and I tried to work all of them into this – or at least the spirit of them.  Idk I still think I got lost somewhere.  😂  You still have one more fic coming, because this one turned into the Fluff Fest and the other is a direction I wanted to go in but got lost, so…two cakes?  😂  You can never have too much cake at Christmas.  Right?  😂

(...I should probably mention this is for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Secret Sprinty Santa, shouldn't I? 😂)

“Christmas Eves with You”

It was one of those perfect winter nights, the kind you read about in good books and see in cheesy holiday movies.  It was Christmas Eve, and the city was decked out in lights and ribbons and boughs of evergreen.  Snow from a recent storm blanketed the rooftops, and heavy gray clouds covered the moon and promised more.  It was just cold enough to be freezing, but in an invigorating way.

A way that caused your blood to pump a little harder, especially when you were decked out in your super suit and racing along those snow-covered rooftops with joyful holiday abandon.

Ladybug tossed her yoyo and gave a loud whoop as she swung across the sky.  The holidays were always a tense time for Paris – emotions always ran high, and holiday akumas were an almost daily occurrence.  Tonight had been quiet so far, and she was grateful for that, but you still couldn’t be too cautious.  She had waited for her parents to fall asleep before taking to the streets for one last patrol.

So far all had been quiet, and she was maybe letting herself enjoy that.  Just a little bit.

[daradiostarzz]

It's so fun to see people say Nicky ROTH being jewish is so irrelevant to his character.

Despite yk... Nick calling his grandmother "Bubbe" (In Yiddish it means Grandma), him following the Kosher rule with the whole "I prefer Sushi over Cheeseburgers", being set in 1990s Missouri which shows how the Roths tend to be the token Jewish family, Luanne baking Baklava (A Pastry usually eaten in Haunnakah) for the Christmas Party and yk... Bubbe being originally from Polish and having Polish antique the family were fighting over after she kicked the bucket.

[everythingisawayoflife]

the writer in me…she’s cooking…i think this is the longest thing ive written yet. i shall leave a sample below so i’m satisfied with sharing at least a little bit before i post the full thing (this to me takes place in the new batman adventures universe but feel free to imagine otherwise):

Dick is worried. Tim isn’t the chattiest kid but he can certainly hold a conversation. Dick’s tried everything: school, movies, TV, even casework. All he’s gotten are some unenthused grunts and hums. Tim may not biologically be Bruce’s kid but he sure does take after the guy. He cleaned up a bit before leaving and there’s a little bit of color back in his face but he still looks tired. Devastatingly so. Dick keeps stealing glances at his little brother in the passenger seat of the car. His arms are folded tightly against his abdomen, as if he’s protecting his stomach from something and a slight shiver courses through his body despite Tim bundling up with at least three layers, a scarf, a hat, and very thick gloves. The kid’s got to be cooking in his makeshift snowsuit, but then again…

They’re stopped at a red light. Five minutes out from the mall, three minutes out from the nearest urgent care.

Dick steals another glance towards Tim and decides to reroute to the clinic, get him checked out. Dick tuts quietly, it’s a shame he’s starting to come down with something right before Christmas, right before his first Christmas with them. Dick’s been in his shoes before; falling in a pond ice skating with Barbara. She managed to be just fine whereas he spent Christmas on Bruce’s couch laid up with pneumonia. He hardly remembers that Christmas from being so damn delirious but he remembers the warmth that wasn’t from fever. It was familial. The whole time he remembers being with someone. It was hard to deduce who was with him when but he was never alone. And if Tim was about to go through what he had been through, or something similar, he’d need them. But first, Dick just wanted to check for a fever in the first place. All signs pointed to one but Dick wasn’t sure yet. Careful not to wake the sleeping boy, Dick reaches out for Tim’s forehead.

HONK!

Dick quickly retracts his hand and places it back on the wheel, pressing the gas. To the mall. Tim doesn’t jolt awake but the car horn is clearly loud enough to stir him. He blinks slowly with a grimace, like he’s in pain.

“Are we there yet?” Tim asks, pitifully quiet. Like talking louder than a whisper would kill him.

“Almost, Tim, you can go back to sleep for a bit,” Dick says, taking a left towards the mall.

Tim makes a disapproving noise. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

Hm. Denial is the path he’s choosing here.

“Are you sure? Your eyes were closed and you weren’t talking. Telltale signs of sleeping to me,” Dick says lightly, trying not to come off like he’s interrogating Tim.

Tim laughs a little. “Nope, just resting my eyes.”

“Okay, old man. You’re too young to rest your eyes. Resting your eyes is for old people. Just look at Bruce.”

“Hn.”

“Oh my gosh, B, is that you?” This gets a more hearty laugh from Tim. It’s the most awake he’s looked since this morning.

alrighty thats all im posting, im gonna show the utmost restraint until i actually finish this thing.

[plusultraetc]

finding out that Team Up Missions is ending within five days of the Vigilantes anime announcement like there have never been more epic highs and lows 😔

[thelingering]

*kicks rock* I tear up at Mass a lot....