#Christmas stocking stuffers

[noisycowboyglitter]

"Funny Xmas Santa Hat Walleye Ugly Christmas Sweater: A Festive Fishing Favorite"

The "Funny Xmas Santa Hat Walleye Ugly Christmas" concept combines several elements to create a unique and humorous holiday-themed item, likely a sweater or decoration. This quirky design merges traditional Christmas imagery with a nod to fishing enthusiasts, resulting in a comical and unconventional holiday piece.

Buy now:19.95$

Imagine a classic ugly Christmas sweater featuring a walleye, a popular freshwater fish, as the central character. The walleye would be adorned with a red Santa hat, giving it a festive yet absurd appearance. The fish might be depicted swimming through a winter scene, surrounded by snowflakes, Christmas trees, or other holiday motifs.

The sweater could include humorous fishing-related puns or phrases like "Fishing for Christmas Cheer" or "Santa's Favorite Catch." The background might feature a mix of traditional Christmas colors and ice-fishing scenes, creating a visual mash-up of holiday cheer and outdoor sporting culture.

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This design would appeal to fishing enthusiasts, particularly those who enjoy ice fishing, as well as anyone with an appreciation for offbeat holiday humor. It's perfect for ugly sweater parties, casual holiday gatherings, or as a gift for the avid angler in one's life.

The "Funny Xmas Santa Hat Walleye Ugly Christmas" item embodies the spirit of ugly Christmas sweaters by embracing the tacky and unexpected. It celebrates niche interests while participating in the broader tradition of humorous holiday attire, making it a conversation starter and a source of laughter during the festive season.

Small Xmas gifts are perfect for spreading holiday cheer without overwhelming recipients or straining budgets. These compact presents are ideal for office exchanges, stocking stuffers, or as thoughtful extras for friends and family.

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Popular options include festive scented candles, artisanal chocolates, miniature liquor bottles, or holiday-themed socks. Practical items like keychain tools, pocket-sized hand lotions, or portable phone chargers combine usefulness with seasonal spirit.

For a personal touch, consider customized ornaments, engraved keychains, or mini photo frames. Book lovers might appreciate pocket-sized editions of holiday classics or inspirational quote books.

Experience-based small gifts, such as single-use face masks, gourmet tea samplers, or seed packets for indoor herbs, offer enjoyment beyond the holiday season.

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The charm of small Xmas gifts lies in their ability to convey thoughtfulness and holiday spirit in a compact form, proving that sometimes the best presents come in small packages.

[fordragonfliesandme]

Get Creative with Last Minute Stocking Stuffers: Unforgettable Gifts for the Whole Family

The holiday season is upon us, and with it comes the joy of giving and receiving gifts. While we may have our main presents sorted, stocking stuffers add an extra touch of magic to Christmas morning. These small yet thoughtful gifts tucked away in our stockings can bring a smile to anyone’s face. I line my stair railings with all of my children and grandchildren stockings. If you find yourself…

[kentnaturaltribrid]

My favorite stocking stuffer is The Candycane, they’re fun and taste like twizzler mixed with mint. Though, a second would be sugar free jellybeans, which taste like all sorts of sweet.

[kristipetersenschoonover]

PERFECT STOCKING STUFFER! "Sea Legs" available in Lovecraftian Microfiction Vol. 8!

PERFECT STOCKING STUFFER! “Sea Legs” available in Lovecraftian Microfiction Vol. 8!

How CUTE is this tiny book on a Christmas tree? I’m thrilled to announce that my piece, “Sea Legs,” is now available in Lovecraftian Microfiction Volume 8! “Sea Legs” is one of thirteen winners in the 2022 H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival and CthulhuCon Microfiction Contest, and the collection makes the perfect stocking stuffer (tiny trim size is so cute too!!). It’s also two books in one, with Tales…

[summerwages]

“you are tomorrow where your thoughts today take you”

so this is thomas..a feral tom cat looking in and imagining..it has taken a couple years but tamed down and fixed..at the barn still but just the sweetest boy.

[drchucktingle]

It’s Christmas Eve and Kork is running out of time. He’s desperate to find a present for his wife, Sasha, but as stores around the mall begin to shutter their doors, things are looking bleak. Fortunately, Kork manages to place an order at Stocking Stuffers, which is guaranteed to arrive on Christmas morning. The only problem is he has no idea what he actually ordered.

When the big day arrives Kork and Sasha find themselves greeted by a handsome, sentient stocking… and he’s ready to stuff.

This erotic tale is 4,000 words of sizzling bisexual human on handsome holiday foot apparel threesome action.

----

yes it is season of the bisexuals. please enjoy new tingler BISEXUALLY STUFFED BY OUR LIVING CHRISTMAS STOCKING out now on amazon or patreon

[asweetsimmer]

“christmas stocking stuffers” CC finds

⟡ stacked books ⟡ candle ⟡ glossier cloud paints ⟡ lotion tub ⟡ mugs ⟡ monthly journal ⟡ glossier makeup bag ⟡ nail polish ⟡ washi tape ⟡ sticky notes ⟡ scented candle ⟡

all CC is free/public access! all credit to the amazing creators @lilaccreative @pierisim @madameriasims4 @dscombobulate @peachtry @simkoos @charlypancakes & mycupofcc <3

check out my other socials for more sims content!

⟡ tumblr ⟡ pinterest ⟡

[tmnt-tychou]

(Thank you to @turtlebros4u for the amazing cover art!)

Please accept my humble and quickly put-together submission for the TMNT Stocking Stuffer challenge. I didn’t think I was going to write something, but I guess I had one in the tank. (People familiar with the New York area, please forgive me if I got any locations wrong. I’ve never been there.)

GN Reader x 4 Turtles (Action and fluff)

@thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83

A Christmas to Remember

You just wanted all of them to have a nice Christmas. Your very first Christmas with these wonderful, amazing people—turtles—in your life. They were bright, colorful, caring, and it was a shame they were forced to hide below ground, in the dark. Especially around the holidays. You wanted to do something special for them.

Unfortunately, the lively, energetic turtles you had known in the summer turned into slothful, cranky, sleepy reptiles in the winter. With the temperatures dropping as Christmas grew closer, they spent more and more time sleeping. Sometimes over twelve hours at one time. Splinter told you this was normal for them. Turtles experienced a slow down in their metabolism. Not quite a hibernation, but it made them listless. For a regular turtle, this was normal. For a mutant ninja turtle, this looked more like winter depression to you.

They didn't want to do anything. Normally ravenous, they didn't even care to eat as their metabolism slowed. Cuddling up on the couch in a turtle pile and watching movies was about their only speed, and most of the time, they would all be asleep by the end. And they liked Christmas, the idea of it, but when the holiday actually came around, they didn't have the energy for it.

Energy or not, you were determined to give them a Christmas they wouldn't forget. And, bless their hearts, they really tried. They were trying their best for you. You told them you were taking them out so they better be prepared. They got all their sleeping in before you showed up. And when they dressed up to go out, you couldn't help but laugh. They looked like they were venturing out to the deep arctic and not spending a few hours in a New York, Christmas Eve Winter.

Each wore thick boots, pants and patched together coats made from pieces of smaller, human shaped coats. Three-fingered gloves, hats and hoods covered their green skin as much as humanly possible. As if they would die if a single snowflake were to touch them.

And they were equally unenthused about it as if the deep arctic was their destination. You were the main source of positive vibes and happy chatter as all of you made your way to the surface and stole to the New York City rooftops. They did finally start perking up as they took turns carrying you from roof to roof as they ran around and looked at all the lights and festivities the city had to offer.

Nearly two hours in and the last stop on the list was Rockefeller Center where all of you gazed down at the giant tree and watched the ice skaters below. Even from this high up, you could hear the Christmas music pumping up from below.

“You know, I've never seen it in person before,” Raphael said, watching the lights of the massive tree. “It's right at our door and we never bothered to get out.”

“It's so pretty,” Michelangelo marveled.

At either of your sides stood Donatello and Leonardo. They were smiling. No more cranky faces.

“Thanks for making us come out,” Leonardo said. “This was nice.”

You smiled back, absolutely ecstatic that they were having a good time. They were so grumbly at first, you worried they would end up irritated with you by the time they made it back. That you could bring some holiday joy to their very sleepy winter months made you so happy. This was the best present they could ever give you.

They remained here the longest, taking it all in. Soaking up the pureness of a holiday they often slept through. You wandered to each of them, taking in their joy, putting your head on their shoulders and listening to that happy chatter between brothers you had missed from the warmer seasons.

Eventually, the cold got to them again and they decided to call it night. Leonardo had you draped over his shoulder, your arms around his neck as he jumped from one building to another. Not your favorite turtle-involved activity, but you did secretly like being this close to them, feeling their effortless power under you. Your face was always burning hot when they put you down. Even now, it was enough to keep you warm as the chilly wind of their speed stung your face.

Block after block they traveled, heading home. Though warmer below, it was faster to go topside. And it seemed they really did enjoy being outside after sitting in the winter blues for so long. They were running at fine speeds and enjoying the fresh air in their lungs. Then, a bullet whizzed by Donatello's head, nearly grazing his mask.

All four turtles stopped and crouched. Surrounded on all sides on various rooftops were Foot Soldiers. Some with guns, others with swords. As if they had been waiting for you. As if they had watched all of you this whole night and new exactly which direction you would be headed on your way back.

Leonardo tightened his grip on you—mostly on your ass, since that's where his hand rested—as he mentally counted all his opponents. There were too many and they were surrounded on all sides.

“I guess that answers that question about whether the Foot gives you holiday time off,” Donatello quipped.

“Give us a break, guys. It's Christmas!” Michelangelo cried, hands up.

Another shot rang through the night and Raphael jerked back as the bullet grazed his bicep. By now, the Foot knew better. They knew the shells could withstand bullets from most guns. They knew now to aim for the fleshy parts, and the head.

“Raph!” you screamed as he gripped his arm.

Leonardo didn't wait around for a second shot. They couldn't chance taking a stand against that many armed Foot with you there, exposed and vulnerable. He jumped off the building and his brothers followed, rebounding off various fire escapes on his way down.

You screamed and covered your head as the sounds of gunfire echoed in your ears. Your body was jerked around as Leonardo hit the ground and took off running. Daring to glance up, you saw a rain of masked Foot Soldiers falling from the building tops after you. There was a road ahead and Leonardo had no choice but to sprint into the on-coming traffic. The squealing of brakes and tires, the blaring of horns filled your ears as he leaped and jumped from the top of one car and another to make it to the other side. The rest of the brothers ran on either side of you and the bullets kept flying.

Behind you, you saw Donatello stumble and nearly fall, but then continue running with a hand on his thigh. You were shaking, too scared to scream his name. The Foot were going to kill them all and there was nothing you could do to protect them.

Then, Leonardo suddenly slid to a stop in the snow. The brothers found themselves on a pier, only the Hudson River ahead of them. A white layer of ice and snow covered the river, leading out into the darkness.

“There's no way!” Raphael yelled. “We're too heavy. We'll never make it across.”

Michelangelo cried out as a bullet hit him. You ducked as you felt one ping off Leonardo's shell close to your head.

“We have no choice!” Leonardo ordered. His grip on you was bruising, but you felt nothing but fear. “Swift and light, boys. Go!”

They jumped from the pier and ran across the bridge of ice. The Hudson River was a half mile wide and you could hear the crack of the ice as the heavy turtles ran across it. From your vantage point over Leonardo's shoulder, you could see some Foot were following, but others had remained on the pier. Either way, they were getting further and further behind as the turtles ran at full speed. A speed no normal human hoped to match.

The sounds of gunfire became more distant. They were going to make it! And then, a sickening crack echoed in your ears. The slap of ice and wetness. They were only halfway across and the bridge was too thin. The ice gave way and all of you plunged into the dark, gelid water.

It took all of your control not to gasp at the sudden cold as you were pulled under the surface. You had never felt such an intense, bitter, painful chill in all your life. It made you muscles seize and ache, your lungs burn, your brain panic.

Something strong grabbed you and yanked you toward the surface, but all you hit was a heavy chunk of ice, keeping you from live-giving air. You couldn't see a thing in the darkness, only hear the heavy thunk of what you imagined was a strong fist trying to break through the ice. You were running out of air. You needed to breathe.

You must have passed out for a moment, because the next thing you remember was being dragged from the icy water and up the snow-covered riverbank. Raphael had you now, on his hands and knees, heaving as it seemed to take every ounce of his strength to haul both himself and you to safety.

You quickly made a mental count: one, two, three...four. All four brothers were on the bank. Leonardo was next to you, his body visibly shaking from the cold. On the other side of Raphael, Donatello coughed violently in the snow. Michelangelo was a little higher up the bank.

“Dudes, where are we?” he asked with chattering teeth.

“If we made it to the other side...maybe Hoboken?” Donatello ventured to guess.

“New Jersey?” Raphael growled in your ear. “Great, I'm going to die of hypothermia in J-Jersey.”

You could hear all of their teeth chattering from the cold. Yours were, too. Your fingers and toes might as well have been missing. You couldn't feel them at. But, if you focused enough, you could force your shivering limbs to work and you pulled yourself to your feet.

You were the only one.

“Come on, guys, get up. You can't stay here.”

Leonardo was doing his best, but he couldn't get up higher than on his knees. The others seemed incapable of even trying. They were reptiles. The cold slowed them down, shut down their bodies. And they would die out here of exposure just as easily as you would if you all stayed.

You ran to Michelangelo first and tugged on his arm. “Come on, Mikey, get up. You have to get up!”

His arm was slick with blood, though he didn't seem to feel the bullet wound right above his elbow. He was too cold to feel anything.

“I...I don't think I can,” he said weakly.

“Yes you can.” You looked him in the face, determined. “Get your legs under you and get up. Do it for me. Please?”

He smiled weakly, but there was a new resolve in him. “Anything for you, Babe.”

He put his all into it, managing to get up on shaky legs. You quickly pressed yourself against his side to steady him. Both of you were shivering, but you held each other up. You doggedly urged him up the bank, one foot in front of the other. And up the embankment, you saw an old, abandoned building several yards out. It was like a miracle from God.

This renewed both your efforts and the two of you pushed for the building. It had a slide-up entrance big enough for a vehicle to drive through. Michelangelo helped you force it open and then you helped him stumble inside.

Within, there was nothing but a wide-open cement floor and what looked like dusty construction equipment and supplies near the back. No light. Definitely no heat. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than laying in the snow on the riverbank.

You ran back down to the river, falling on your face along the way as your frozen limbs refused to move as well as they used to. You forced yourself back up, caked in snow and slid down the embankment to the remaining turtles. Leonardo had managed to get upright again and was trying to get to Raphael.

You grabbed the leader in blue and pulled him away.

“No, help them first,” he insisted, and then nearly fell back down.

“I'm helping all of you, but you're next,” you insisted. “Come on, I found a place.”

Leonardo grunted as your pulled him along. He hated to be told what to do, but he was in no position to argue. You were the only warm-blooded one among them. You were faring better than the brothers—for now. Your body might give out to the cold eventually, but you were determined to pull as many turtles to safety as you could before that happened. As cold as you were, maybe if you could force yourself to keep moving, you would be okay.

The frigid winter air against your wet clothes was torture. There was no hope of your body warming itself as every bit of body heat was stolen by the breeze. Still, you pressed on as you and Leonardo dragged yourselves to the storage building.

He was barely at the door before you turned and ran back. Running made the cold worse. Your muscles were struggling, as if the line from your brain to your legs were being cut. Your hair was now a solid ice clump on your head. But you forced yourself forward and slid back down the embankment. There, Raphael had managed to get himself to Donatello and they were trying to help each other climb up.

“Get Donnie next,” Raphael told you. “He's hurt.”

You looked to where Donatello was pressing a hand to his thigh, but you didn't see anything. Walking around him, the bullet had pierced the back of his thigh and his pants were darkened in blood.

“At least the river greatly slowed the blood flow, so chances of bleeding out are low,” Donatello managed to say.

“Small favors,” you said with a hopeful smile. “Come on, get up. It's not far.”

Donatello struggled. His long limbs would not cooperate and you both fell down several times trying to get to the building. Leonardo came back out, determined to help and you wanted to yell at him. You were trying to get turtles INTO the building. They were not helping if they were coming back out. Yet, between the two of you, you all managed to stumble inside.

Still one more turtle to go. Your pants had frozen to your legs so much that they made a cracking sound any time you moved. Your feet were in icy puddles in your shoes and your sweater was pretty much a soaked sponge.

With determination, you shrugged off your coat, peeled the soaked, also nearly solid sweater from your body and dropped it to the ground. The coat was more like one of those water resistant ski jackets and didn't retain nearly as much water. You zipped it back on and went back out one more time.

You found Raphael nearly at the top of the bank. Both of you were frosted in white snow, your bodies too cold to melt it.

“Come on, big guy, I've got you,” you said between blue lips as you pulled at him.

He was so much bigger and heavier than you, no amount of pulling on your own would have made a difference. But your shaking form was enough to steady him and the two of you stumbled for the building.

“Look at you, saving our asses,” he mumbled with humor.

“You're saving yourself,” you insisted. “I'm just here for moral support.”

He snorted and the two of you finally made it.

Instantly, you began tugging at their heavy clothes. “Take these off. They're soaked. You're going to freeze to death.”

They were so bloodless and lethargic. Three of them had been shot. Leonardo was the only one who managed to escape any bullets. You had a suspicion it was because his brothers kept him and you in the front while you fled to minimize any possible hits. But you didn't let yourself think about it for long. Your brain was in survival mode. You couldn't sit down and rest or you might not be able to get back up. You had to keep your muscles moving. It was the only way to stay warm.

So you stubbornly kept working, yanking soaked, frozen winter clothes off very cold turtles. As their skin was exposed to the open air, they huddled together to keep warm in a big turtle pile. Which would have been cute in any other situation. They weren't just trying to keep themselves warm. Arms around each other, they tried to warm up their brothers. The scene made you more determined. You had to get them warm. If the Foot found them, they would be sitting ducks.

Grabbing Donatello's pack, you fished around for a flashlight and then went deeper into the building to see if there was anything you could use. Old packs of concrete, some of the bags split open. An out of date fork lift that probably didn't work anymore. There was a whole pile of large tarps. A flimsy insulation, but better than nothing to protect bodies from direct exposure to cold concrete.

And, your saving grace, you found some old wood pallets.

The turtles looked up as you dragged one of the pallets over to them. “Break this into pieces. I'm going to try to build a fire. Anyone pack a lighter?”

*************

You were almost done. You closed the door to keep air out, you got the turtles on their new tarp beds where they now huddled as one giant pile. You managed to get a fire going and now you were nearly done wrapping up the last of the bullet wounds. Luckily, the guys always brought a first aid kit whenever they went out. Unfortunately, there was still a bullet in Donatello's leg and Michelangelo's arm. They would have to wait for removal.

With the last of your energy, you dragged a second pallet over for breakdown to make sure you would have enough wood to last the night. Then, you just dropped on your ass on the floor, staring at the fire. There was nothing else to do, you had done the best you could. All your reserves were gone.

At least now you had heat and it felt so good just to sit in front of the fire and let it warm you. You weren't shivering anymore. All your limbs were numb. Maybe that was bad. You thought you read somewhere that when the shivers were gone that was the next stage of hypothermia. But you weren't sure. Your brain was sluggish. It had no more input to give you now that you had done all the tasks. You had now redeemed yourself.

“Sorry,” you told the turtles across the fire. “If I hadn't insisted you guys go out, none of this would have happened. I almost got you killed. I'm so sorry.”

“Hey, that is not your fault,” Raphael shot back. “It's the Foot's fault for being assholes. And it's our fault for forgetting that we needed to keep an eye out. We got sloppy, not you.”

“No one's blaming you,” Donatello confirmed. “I'm still glad we did it. I hadn't had that Christmas feeling since we were kids. I had forgotten all about it. I was glad to remember it again.”

“Ditto!” Michelangelo cut in. “You make a turtle feel young at heart again.”

You smiled softly. It was all you could manage. You couldn't make your body move, now that you had finally allowed it rest.

“Hey,” Leonardo called to you. “Why are you over there? Come sit with us and get warm.”

You just looked at him and slowly blinked. Sitting over there sounded nice, but what sounded even nicer was to let the blackness of sleep take you. Your head lolled forward and then the rest of you slowly fell over on your side. There, now you could go to sleep. And you wished the boys would stop yelling your name. You were so tired.

At some point, you were aware of strong arms picking your boneless body off the floor. You were set among a nest of large forms and green hands worked to gently peel the soaked clothes off your body. Left in just your underwear, you were the center of the turtle nest as they all huddled together to get warm. Their bodies were still so cold against your skin. None of you were producing any heat from your bodies, but you still tried.

You took the nearest cold hand you could grab and pressed it to your stomach, trying to warm it. As the fire's heat settled into your skin and in the air, you grabbed the next green hand to replace it, rubbing the fingers.

They were too cold, too cold. They needed to get warmer. Your brain just kept going over that mantra, even as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Through the night, you don't remember much if any talking among the brothers. You do remember them often rotating spots so the turtles on the outside could then spend some time on the inside of the cuddle pile.

You were always in the middle; always kept warm and protected. Always surrounded by solid plastrons and thick thighs as they kept your off the cold ground with their own limbs. By the time the gray winter sun eked in through the dirty windows, you were sore and still tired, but toasty warm as a fire still crackled on front of you. And very large turtle bodies protectively huddled around you.

As you awoke, the first thought in your mind was if they were all okay. But the first sign of movement from you had Michelangelo singing loudly in your ear.

“We wish you a merry Christmas!”

You groaned.

“We wish you a merry Christmas!”

“Mikey, nooo...”

“We wish you a merry Christmaaaas!”

“Mikey, shut it!” Raphael barked.

“AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

You rolled to press your face into the plastron of the very turtle that was singing to you and you could feel the vibrations of his laughter. Your second half lay in the lap of Donatello and he rubbed your leg to warm it up.

“How do you feel? Does anything hurt?”

All your muscles hurt, but you sat up with a smile. “I'm fine. I'm worried about you and your leg.”

Leonardo approached, holding out your ski jacket. “Here, put this on, it's mostly dry now. We managed to get one of the cells to work and called April. She's coming to get us.”

“I'll be fine once we can get back to the lair and take care of everyone's wounds,” Donatello confirmed. “You got us out, we're all okay.”

As you blissfully wrapped yourself in your jacket, you smiled thankfully. This could have ended  badly. These dear friends you had in your life could have been taken from you so easily. Yet, all of you survived. Christmas miracle? Maybe.

A solid bang on the door made them all jump, then it was yanked open, revealing April's perturbed countenance. She was not happy to be called out at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning.

“Get your shells in gear before anyone sees me driving that fugly van of yours!” she called.

When she actually saw the state of her turtles and their wounds, she quickly changed from irritated old sister to mother hen. She checked each turtle over and helped them into the van. You were grateful for her. You could never trust if the turtles told you they were alright. They would want to keep you from worrying. But if April looked them over and saw they looked like they weren't in any immediate danger of dying, you could believe that.

You crawled into the back seat with Leonardo, since you two were the only ones without any bullet wounds. Donatello had to sit in the front with his bad leg. The other brothers took the middle.

“Not the best Christmas ever like I had hoped,” you lamented as you all drove away.

“Hey, sometimes any Christmas you survive is a good Christmas,” Raphael joked in front of her.

Leonardo took your hand and squeezed. “It's definitely one we'll remember for the rest of our lives.”

“I mean, we did all get naked together. That's a pretty good Christmas,” Michelangelo grinned back at you.

You reached in front of you to hug him around the neck. “I'm just glad you're all okay.”

“We're glad you're okay, too. You had us worried for a minute last night.”

You weren't sure what to say about that. You had never worried about yourself that night. Instead, you just kissed his dome and settled back in for the ride home.

************

Once returning to the lair and receiving hot baths and warm clothes, a fussy Splinter tended to his son's wounds and made all of you eat. You brought out your presents for them: giant, thick, weighted blankets that the guys all immediately curled up with in the living room. Thirty minutes into watching “The Grinch” and they were all sound asleep. And you were pretty much trapped at the bottom of that turtle pile. But you didn't mind. It felt like this was where you belonged. And this definitely was a Christmas all of you would remember.

[rosemallowbeauty]

Christmas soaps are now available at RoseMallowBeauty.Etsy.com 😍❄️🎄

[peach-moths]

Bug pins 🐛

[noisycowboyglitter]

"Funny and Festive: Discover the Hail Santa Pentagram Ugly Christmas Sweater"

The "Funny Ugly Christmas Sweater Hail Santa Pentagram" combines traditional holiday kitsch with irreverent humor and occult imagery, creating a provocative and attention-grabbing garment. This unconventional sweater subverts the typical cheerful Christmas themes by incorporating darker elements in a playful manner.

Buy now:19.95$

The centerpiece of the design likely features a pentagram, a five-pointed star often associated with occultism, cleverly integrated with Christmas motifs. Within or around the pentagram, the phrase "Hail Santa" appears, a cheeky play on words that sounds similar to a certain other phrase but refers to the jolly gift-giver instead.

The sweater might incorporate other humorous elements such as demonic-looking reindeer, elves with pointed ears and mischievous grins, or candy canes arranged to form pitchforks. Traditional Christmas colors of red and green could be paired with black for a more ominous feel.

Buy now

This type of sweater is designed for those with an edgy sense of humor who enjoy pushing boundaries and sparking conversations at holiday gatherings. It's perfect for ugly sweater contests, alternative Christmas parties, or for anyone who wants to inject a bit of subversive fun into the holiday season.

While definitely not suitable for all occasions, this sweater appeals to those who appreciate dark humor and enjoy playfully challenging conventional holiday norms. It's a statement piece that combines the ugly Christmas sweater tradition with a rebellious twist, sure to elicit laughs, raised eyebrows, and plenty of attention.

Small Christmas gifts are thoughtful tokens that capture the spirit of the season without overwhelming the recipient or breaking the bank. These compact presents are perfect for Secret Santa exchanges, stocking stuffers, or as additional treats alongside larger gifts.

Buy now

Popular small gift ideas include scented candles, artisanal chocolates, festive ornaments, or miniature bottles of premium spirits. Practical items like stylish keychain tools, pocket-sized hand creams, or travel-friendly tech accessories are both useful and appreciated.

For a personal touch, consider customized items such as monogrammed handkerchiefs, engraved keychains, or photo keepsakes. Book lovers might enjoy pocket-sized editions of classic novels or inspirational quote books.

Small gifts can also focus on experiences, like single-use face masks for a spa night, packets of gourmet hot chocolate, or seed packets for garden enthusiasts.

Buy now

The key to successful small gifts is choosing items that feel special and thoughtful, despite their size. These presents prove that good things often come in small packages.

[machetelanding]

[scholastic-dragon]

For the Christmas Prompts, would I be able to have “Snowball fight” and Mistletoe with Bayverse Raphael?

Thanks to turtle-babe83 I’ve started reading your works and I’m enjoying what I’m seeing so far!

Awwww thank you!!! That means a lot to me🥺

Raphael x Gn!reader

Tmnt Stocking Stuffers

Winter Wonderland

Word count: 900

Warnings: spelling mistakes, snow, turtle smootches, established relationship, idiots in love,

Summary: you "challenge" Raph to a snowball fight

You should've know better.

But do you regret it? No you do not.

Surprising your boyfriend was one thing, but sneaking up on a ninja was even better.

You'd asked Raph if he wanted to take a walk in the snow down by the old bridge and look at all the Christmas lights. He agreed and you got to work, buying thicker gloves and boots and getting a snowball mold so you could be prepared.

You texted him to meet out by the garage entrance, it was a short walk to the bridge and on an abandoned side of town so the boys didn't have to worry about prying eyes.

And thanks to April, the boys actually got clothes and boots to wear outside during the winter.

You got there 30 minutes early for your walk, building a large snow wall that would hopefully hide you from Raph. You had a perfect view of the garage door Donnie had installed, and set up next to a tree for extra cover.

You made dozens of snowballs, stacking them and being careful not to break them. Your nose was freezing and kept running, you had to constantly wipe it on the sleeve of your jacket.

Then you heard the door open, ducking down so only your eyes were visible, you watch him exit the garage. He's wrapped in a thick scarf and hat he made, wearing a modified jacket for his shell.

He walks about 20 feet from the door before stopping, rubbing his hands together and pulling out his phone.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. It's time.

Picking up a snowball, you slowly rise, raising your arm and chucking the ball as hard as you could. It flew through the air, smashing right into Raph's cheek, snow flying everywhere, sticking to his scarf and going into his mouth.

"What the hell-?!" He jumped, wiping his mouth, gaze landing on you.

Before he could finish his exclamation you were throwing more snowballs.

Regaining his senses, he ducked behind a tree, digging at the thick snow under his boots and started making snowballs.

He mumbled something that you couldn't hear, but you knew it was a warning of some kind.

You giggled, filling your arms and standing, throwing more balls at his shell. He sat back on his haunches, throwing a massive snowball right at you. It hit your shoulder, making you drop you stack and practically knocking you over.

Thankfully your hand landed on a tree that kept you standing, even if a little crooked.

As you tried to stand up normally, Raph kept throwing them, it didn't help he had great hand-eye-coordination and massive hands. The snowballs hit you every time and each one almost knocking you over.

Laughing harder, you quickly rush away from him, some snowballs hit your back as you ran, and others missed you completely as you ducked and dodged your way to the garage.

"Where are ya going?" He yelled, the humor evident in his thick voice.

The garage was the only safe space, Donnie didn't like snow in there incase it melted and ruined his stuff, so he demanded that you stomp your boots off and shake off any and all snow upon entry.

Almost slipping on some ice right by the door, you get your bearings and throw the door open, turning back to see him rushing toward you with a huge snowball in his mits.

You quickly shut and lock the door, ignoring him yelling your name. You laughed, brushing the snow off your jacket and out of your hair.

You stomp your boots on the mat and turn around, as you do, a giant snowball gets shoved into your face.

You gasp, shaking the snow from your eyes, seeing Raph standing right in front of you with a large grin.

"How? What-?" You sputter, spitting out snow.

"There's more than one entrance to the garage, numbnuts," He laughs, stepping forward to help brush snow off your face. "There's a reason we don't use this one often,"

"And why is that?"

His smirk grows, he simply points up, you follow and can't help the laugh that comes out.

A small clump of mistletoe is hanging right over the door.

"And which one of you romantics put this there?" You tease, tossing a small clump of snow at his chest.

"April did first off, and Dad made it a rule that we can't take down any of her decorations cause it'll make her sad," He rolls his eyes at the last part, then meets your eyes again, they jump from your eyes to your mouth.

"Seems like you're waiting for something...?" You tease, licking your lips.

"I think you owe me for attacking me with those snowballs," He leans down, turning his face and tapping his cheek.

"You're such a brat," You roll your eyes, lifting your hands, gloves still covered in snow, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, but you quickly pull away. "Are we even now?"

"Nah, it's a kiss per snowball, babe,"

"Then you owe me double for those bowling balls you hit me with earlier," You push at his chest as he steps closer, not that it deters or stops him. His arms encircle your waist, pulling you to his chest.

"I'll happily make it up to you," He kisses you, titling his head and stealing any teasing response you could retort with. He pulls back slightly, and you raise up on your tiptoes to keep him close.

You wrap your arms around his neck, one hand tracing his collar, feeling him shiver in your arms. You pull back his scarf and jacket collar and dump a handful of snow inside.

You'd never heard Raph yelp so loud.

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox @strawberrycakeblog @dilucsflame33 @post-apocalyptic-daydream

[silvers-smut-memes]

Send "Stuffing Stockings" for your muse to make out and fuck mine under the Christmas Tree

Send "Stocking Stuffer" for mine to fuck yours instead.

Feel free to add details and set the mood.

[askceruleanvaporbreon]

Stocking stuffer!

Yippee!!