#Green Farm Holidays

[bharatvarsh22]

Reconnect with nature through agro-tourism at Bharatvarsh Nature Farms. Immerse yourself in the beauty of sustainable farming and adventure. Explore now!

Do Visit: https://bharatvarshnaturefarms.com/reconnect-with-nature-agro-tourism-at-bharatvarsh-nature-farms/

[whatsthisascianbullshit]

Happy Starlight from a festive Muireann and her seasonal bunkie

[tearsofthekabak]

Life update: trip sucked, legal and financial chaos ensued... Now the dust has settled, the emo squirrels living in my backyard are adorably round and fat, and I'm back in driving this good old meat suit on first person mode again

[oaksbarnfarm]

Tackling Climate Change At The Roots

Since working with Worcestershire County Council and Climate Essentials our farm stay business has been able to focus on the little things that make a big difference to our environment. Our power consumption was typically 19241KW per annum in 2022 we managed to cut this by 65% taking our consumption down to 12603KW per annum. These figures were boosted by a 16% increase in solar generation, in…

[beardedgirl]

From FARMRIO

[parkersbliss]

A Domestic Life | S. Riley

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x female reader

warnings: none just some fluff bc I don’t see enough for him :(( maybe OOC

synopsis: just some fluffy headcannons about the infamous ghost and how he treats relationships

a/n: there is not enough tooth rotting fluff for this guy and I’m gonna fix that starting now

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for ghost!

—

sleeps like a log. the guy sleeps on his back, pointed at the sleeping and when he’s out he’s OUTTTT that boy does not sleep on the field so in an actual bed? he’s comatose. of course if you have a nightmare you can wake him up anytime. he’ll be a little confused at first but he’s got the spirit

enjoys cuddling but not in his sleep. he overheats so easily bc of how big he is so you guys keep your space. he is happy to hold you before bed though while watching a movie or scrolling on tiktok

he’s a DRY texter oh my god. it’s like your biggest pet peeve. “how’s your day” “fine” “made any progress?” “no.” you’re working on improving his skills but he’s just like that. you asked a question, he answers. besides he doesn’t frequently have time to text you long detailed replies

obviously ghost loves his mask, and it makes sense for him to conceal his identity but he doesn’t when he’s back with you. he likes to keep his identities separate. ghost and the mask for the field, regular simon at home. it’s not like anyone would know they were the same guy, except you of course.

on the off chance he’s home for halloween, he doesn’t use his mask as a costume (just in case anyone could connect the dots) but does keep the skeleton theme

his favorite holiday is christmas and he always makes sure he can have it off

he LOVES to cook. he doesn’t eat good when deployed so he loves coming home and cooking himself up exactly what he wanted. don’t get me wrong, he loves if you cook too but there’s something about not being able to control what you eat and then having full control and making homemade pasta for him

wears beanies all the time in winter. the dudes got a buzz cut, standard, so his heads cold. he loves when you wear a matching one with him

wakes up at the ass crack of dawn bc his body is just used to it after so many years

when he retires, he plans on having a small farm for even fresher homemade ingredients like eggs, milk etc. and he’ll wake up early to do the farm chores

again with the shitty food thing, he only likes gas station coffee. he’s so used to a crappy cup of joe that he can’t do the fancy shit. then again, he’s more of a tea guy anyway

loves his alone time but he likes you there, if that makes sense? like he loves reading a novel and not talking but just having you also read in the same room

likes just sitting on the couch together and watching a movie

It took him a while to adjust to physical touch after it being 1.) mostly abuse or 2.) enemies after him but he is not completely against it. he knows it’s important in relationships so he tries his best and eventually learns to love it

a sucker for slow dancing in the living room. bonus points if it’s with the christmas tree lights and music. he loves swaying around and the occasional stepping on feet and your giggles

his most prized possession besides the guns and you is a le creuset tea pot you gifted him for christmas. it’s bright blue with a gold handle and perfect.

he has a tea collection on display and is always trying new flavors from around the world. his green tea is imported from japan ONLY. always makes two cups for himself and you

loves to do any picnic dates or apple picking or farm style dates. the man loves food as FRESH as possible.

his bucket lists consists of food places around the world he wants to try and go with you.

including fugu from japan. you are totally opposed because of the whole life or death thing associated with it, but simon’s used to risks and he’ll do his research ofc.

he’ll never admit but he wants to go to america just to try the fast food there. he knows it’s bad and the opposite of what he stands for but the chinese in britain is ASS and doesn’t canes, in n out and chick fil a look SO good?

bicep holding >>> hand holding

he needs routine. simon needs to wake up at the same time, make breakfast for you guys at the same time, have his quiet time on the porch. watch the morning news with you and the tea. always at the same times. he tries not to but he can’t help bringing some of his military life home

his crew knows he has a wife but that’s it. ghost keeps simon separate and you are married to simon.

plus he can never be too safe when it comes to his work. the only name you went by when he’s deployed is “my wife” or “mrs riley”

doesn’t even carry a photo of you bc he’s that paranoid

you guys actually get married within 18 months because it just makes life easier. as soon as simon knew he wanted to marry you, he did.

it’s just easier in the military bc of pay, benefits, deployment, etc. and ofc he loves you and was locking that down ASAP

sends you recipes when he’s deployed for you to make and rate

when he can’t sleep, which is often, he just lays next to you not touching and contemplated how it is after all the bad he’s done, how he got it so good.

and he makes sure you know how appreciative he is

[rootedinrevisions]

In My Heart is a Christmas Tree Farm

SUMMARY: It’s the first Christmas together for you and Tyler, and after moving into his farmhouse, you’re excited to start new traditions with him—like picking out the perfect tree. But what starts as a charming trip to the Christmas Tree Farm quickly turns into a hilarious and heartwarming adventure, from getting the tree home to figuring out how to fit it through the front door. As the holiday chaos unfolds, the two of you share quiet moments decorating the tree, with laughter, playful banter, and unspoken love filling the air.

A/N: This is the first of a few holiday fics that I have planned or in the works! Please let me know what you guys think with hearts, reblogs, and comments! I love getting feedback from you guys!

WARNINGS: None. Just fluff.

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

The truck rumbled to a stop on the gravel drive of the Christmas tree farm, the engine cutting out with a low growl. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you looked out at the rows of evergreens stretching into the horizon. This was your first Christmas living with Tyler, and picking out a real tree together felt like the start of something special—a new tradition, just the two of you.

The crisp December air hit you as soon as you stepped out of the truck, making you pull your coat a little tighter around yourself. The smell of pine was already thick in the air, and your boots crunched softly against the ground as you moved closer to the truck bed.

Tyler slid out of the driver’s seat with an easy grace, tugging the brim of his cap a little lower against the cold. His Carhartt jacket hugged his frame, the earthy tan color a perfect match for his ruggedness. He turned toward you, a teasing glint in his eye, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but admire him. He just had that effortless charm about him—completely unbothered and completely Tyler.

“So,” he drawled, his breath visible in the chilly air as he closed the truck door behind him. “Have you decided what kinda tree you’re lookin’ for yet, darlin’?”

You grinned, tucking your hands into your coat pockets. “Something big and full. You know, a real showstopper.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow, clearly already bracing himself for what this would mean for his part of the job. 

“Figures. You’d pick somethin’ that makes me work for it.” His grin softened the words, though, and you nudged his arm as the two of you started walking toward the trees.

The farm was lively with families and couples all bundled up, laughter and chatter floating through the brisk air. The two of you wandered along the rows of trees, the crunch of your boots and the faint sound of Christmas music playing over the farm’s speakers filling the silence.

Tyler stopped in front of a smaller tree, one that barely came up to his shoulder. He gestured toward it with a tilt of his head. “What about this one? Nice and easy to haul back.”

You gave him a flat look, one hand resting on your hip. “That’s not even a Christmas tree; it’s a glorified shrub.”

You wandered a little further ahead, scanning the trees until your eyes landed on one that seemed perfect. It was tall and full, its dark green needles catching the faint sunlight peeking through the clouds. You pointed at it with excitement. “What about that one?”

Tyler followed your gaze and tilted his head, his lips twisting as he studied it. “Hmm.”

“‘Hmm?’” you echoed, crossing your arms.

“It’s a little…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Lopsided. Look at that lean.”

You squinted at the tree, trying to see what he saw. Sure, it wasn’t perfectly symmetrical, but there was something charming about its imperfection.

“It gives it character,” you argued, planting your hands on your hips.

“Character, huh?” Tyler smirked, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Alright, sweetheart. But don’t say I didn’t warn ya when that ‘character’ makes it fall over in the living room.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up. This was exactly what you’d imagined when you thought about this day—playful bickering, shared smiles, and the simple joy of doing something together.

Tyler tilted his head, studying the tree with that same skeptical expression. You could tell he wasn’t sold, but you didn’t care. There was something about this one—it wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at it, already picturing it in the corner of your living room, lit up with strings of warm white lights and covered in ornaments you’d carefully unpacked together.

When you glanced back at Tyler, he was already watching you. His green eyes softened as he took in the look on your face, the way you were gazing at the tree like it was the only one on the entire farm. He let out a long-suffering sigh, one that was more for show than anything else, and shook his head with a small smile.

“This the one you really want?” he asked, his voice quieter now, his tone gentler.

You nodded eagerly. “This is the one.”

He held your gaze for a beat longer, his expression softening even more. “Alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

Before you could even respond, Tyler squatted down by the base of the tree and pulled out the hand saw he’d brought along. He glanced back at you with a teasing smirk as he gripped the saw handle. 

“You better not make me do this every year, though. Gonna end up with sawdust in places sawdust shouldn’t be.”

You laughed, crossing your arms as you watched him start sawing through the trunk with practiced movements. “Oh, come on. You’re just showing off now.”

“Damn right,” he shot back, his voice a little strained from the effort. “Gotta prove I’m still worth keepin’ around.”

The sight of him—focused, rugged, and doing this for you—made your heart squeeze in your chest. He worked efficiently, the blade gliding back and forth through the trunk as tiny flecks of wood started to fall onto the frosty ground. After a few minutes, there was a satisfying crack, and the tree shifted slightly.

Tyler straightened up, brushing sawdust off his jeans before turning to you with a grin. “Alright, darlin’. Now comes the fun part—haulin’ this thing back to the truck without pokin’ an eye out.”

As Tyler dusted off his hands, you moved to grab the tree, wanting to help. Before you could get a proper grip, he reached out, stopping you with a firm hand on your wrist.

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head with a smirk. “I’m not lettin’ you carry this thing. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Tyler, it’s not that heavy,” you argued, but he was already crouching down, grabbing hold of the trunk with one hand and lifting it with surprising ease.

“You just stay right there and admire the view,” he teased, glancing over his shoulder at you with a wink before he began dragging the tree toward the front of the farm. The tree scraped along the ground, leaving a trail in the thin layer of frost, and you couldn’t help but laugh as the branches caught on a few tufts of grass.

A little ways ahead, you spotted a wooden wagon parked near the rows of trees—a small, rustic cart clearly meant to help customers haul their finds. 

You pointed to it, your eyes lighting up. “Look, there’s a wagon we can use!”

Tyler stopped in his tracks, turning to glance at the cart before shooting you a look that was equal parts amused and stubborn. “A wagon? Darlin’, I don’t need a wagon. I’ve got this.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you watched him reposition his grip on the tree like he was about to hoist it up. Before he could, you were already walking off toward the cart.

“Where’re you goin’?” he called after you, the exasperation in his voice tinged with humor.

“Getting the wagon,” you called back without turning around.

When you returned, rolling the cart behind you with a triumphant smile, Tyler sighed, shaking his head like you’d just gone and complicated things for no reason. 

“I told you I could carry it,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, grinning as you gestured toward the wagon. “But why carry it when you can make your life easier?”

He muttered something under his breath—something about being perfectly capable—but he bent down and lifted the tree anyway, settling it into the wagon with a huff. You gave him a pleased smile, your hands on your hips like you’d just solved the world’s biggest problem.

Tyler shook his head again, a small grin tugging at his lips as he grabbed the wagon handle. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he teased, his tone warm and playful.

“Lucky?” you echoed, falling into step beside him. “I just saved you from throwing your back out.”

“Darlin’, I think I’ve got a few good years left before that happens.” He shot you a sidelong glance as he started pulling the wagon, his free hand reaching for yours. The roughness of his palm was a stark contrast to the cool metal of the wagon handle in his other hand, and you couldn’t help but squeeze his hand as your fingers laced together.

The two of you walked hand in hand toward the gate, the tree wobbling slightly in the wagon behind you. The crisp air smelled faintly of pine and woodsmoke, and the sound of distant laughter from other families echoed through the farm. It felt perfect.

The two of you reached the payment booth near the front of the farm, where a cheerful older man in a Santa hat rang you up. Tyler handed over the cash, adding a quick “Merry Christmas” as the man nodded and tipped his hat.

Tree secured for the season, you made your way back to Tyler’s truck, the wagon wheels crunching softly over the frosted ground. The cold seemed sharper now, nipping at your face and hands, and you pulled your coat tighter as you walked.

Tyler parked the wagon near the tailgate and looked over at you, tilting his head toward the cab of the truck. “Alright, darlin’, hop in and start warmin’ up. I’ll handle the rest.”

You shook your head with a determined smile. “I’m not letting you do this alone. It’s our tree, after all.”

Tyler huffed, planting his hands on his hips as he gave you a pointed look. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” But he didn’t argue further, instead moving to lift the tree out of the wagon.

As he hefted the trunk up toward the bed of the truck, the tree wobbled slightly, its uneven weight threatening to throw off his balance. 

“Lopsided thing,” he muttered under his breath, as if to prove his earlier point.

You quickly stepped in, grabbing the top of the tree to steady it. “I’ve got it!” you said, keeping the branches from tilting too far.

Tyler glanced back at you, a flicker of exasperation in his eyes. “I had it,” he drawled, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” you replied cheekily. “And now we’ve both got it.”

Together, you guided the tree into the truck bed, the branches brushing against the sides before settling into place. Tyler stepped back to inspect it, nodding to himself before turning to the backseat of the truck and grabbing a length of rope.

As he began tying down one end of the tree, he glanced over his shoulder. “Now will you get in the truck and warm up, sweetheart?”

You ignored him, instead grabbing the other end of the rope. “I’ll help you tie it down. Two sets of hands are faster than one.”

Tyler let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he worked on securing the trunk. “You’re about the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“And you love it,” you quipped, looping the rope around the branches with practiced ease.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a grin, pulling his end taut before tying it off with a secure knot. “But don’t think I didn’t see you shiverin’ just now. Soon as this is done, you’re gettin’ in that truck, no arguments..”

“Deal,” you replied, stepping back to admire your work as Tyler gave the ropes one final tug.

With the tree finally secured, Tyler tossed the remaining rope into the truck bed and turned to you, brushing a stray pine needle from your coat. “There. Now, let’s get you warmed up before you turn into an icicle.”

He reached for your hand again, his calloused fingers warm against your cold ones, and led you to the passenger side of the truck. As you climbed in, the cab was already beginning to fill with heat, and the faint smell of pine lingered in the air.

The drive back to the farmhouse was quiet and peaceful, the radio softly playing Christmas tunes as you rested your head against the window. The familiar gravel crunch of Tyler’s driveway made you smile. Moving into his farmhouse had felt so natural—like the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the world, just far enough from town to feel like your own private retreat.

As Tyler parked the truck, he hopped out with his usual energy, leaving you to grab your coat and follow. By the time you rounded the back of the truck, he had already unhooked the ropes and was hauling the tree out of the bed with a grunt.

“You good?” you asked, stifling a laugh as he adjusted his grip.

“’Course I’m good,” he replied, shifting the weight of the tree onto one shoulder like it was nothing. “This ain’t my first rodeo, darlin’.”

You trailed after him, arms crossed, as he approached the front porch. The air smelled like fresh pine now from the tree and the crisp bite of winter, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of decorating the tree together later.

That excitement only grew as Tyler maneuvered the tree toward the door—until he reached the threshold and froze.

“Uh…” he muttered, tilting his head as he eyed the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, a knowing smirk creeping onto your face.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, attempting to angle the tree to fit through the frame. The branches scraped against the sides of the door, and needles started raining down in a messy trail.

“You sure about that?” you teased, leaning against the porch railing.

Tyler grunted, twisting the trunk this way and that. “Just…gotta…angle it…a little more…”

The tree, stubborn as ever, refused to cooperate. Instead, it wedged itself firmly in the doorway, the bottom half stuck outside while the top half was inside.

“Well,” you said, your voice laced with amusement, “this is going great.”

“Don’t start,” Tyler muttered under his breath, taking a step back to assess the situation. His hands planted on his hips, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Need some help?” you offered sweetly, already knowing what his answer would be.

“Nope. I’ve got it,” he insisted, stepping forward to try again. This time, he gave the tree a solid shove, which only made it stick tighter.

Needles flew everywhere, a few landing in his hair and on his jacket. You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing.

He turned to you, his exasperated expression tinged with reluctant humor. “Glad you’re enjoyin’ yourself over there.”

“Immensely,” you replied with a grin.

Finally, Tyler threw his hands up in defeat and looked at you. “Alright, fine. I could use an extra set of hands. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” you said, stepping forward. As you grabbed the top of the tree to help guide it, you couldn’t resist adding, “I thought you didn’t need my help?”

He shot you a look but didn’t respond, instead focusing on angling the tree just right. Together, the two of you managed to wiggle it free, and with one last push, it finally made it through the doorway.

Once inside, Tyler carried the tree to the living room, pausing in the center. “Alright, darlin’. Where do you want it?”

You pointed to a cozy corner by the front window, already imagining how the lights would glow against the glass at night. “Over there.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think it’d look better on this side?” He gestured to the opposite corner.

You narrowed your eyes at him, and he held your gaze for a long moment before sighing. “Yeah, alright. Your spot it is.”

“You’re learning,” you teased, patting his arm as he set the tree down in your chosen spot.

With the tree finally in place, Tyler brushed his hands off on his jeans and gave you a lopsided grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute, sweetheart.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you quipped, stepping back to admire the tree in its new home.

With the tree finally in place, you stepped back, hands on your hips, and admired it—or at least tried to. Something about the spot you had chosen didn’t sit right anymore. It didn’t look as magical as you’d imagined. You tilted your head, your eyes drifting toward the corner Tyler had suggested earlier.

You stood there, picturing the tree nestled in that spot instead. The idea started to grow on you. The light from the front window would catch the ornaments perfectly, and it wouldn’t feel so cramped against the wall.

“Alright,” Tyler said, brushing his hands on his jeans. “Tree’s up, and it’s right where you wanted it. You happy now, sweetheart?”

You didn’t answer right away, still staring at the other corner with a pensive expression.

“Uh-oh,” Tyler muttered, catching the look on your face. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, then glanced at him sheepishly. “I don’t like it here.”

Tyler blinked at you, incredulous. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling. “I think…it would look better over there.” You pointed to the corner he had suggested earlier, the one you’d dismissed outright.

Tyler tilted his head back and let out a dramatic groan, rubbing a hand over his face. “You mean the spot I told you it should go in from the start?”

“Well,” you said with a shrug, trying to suppress a laugh, “you might’ve had a point.”

He stared at you for a long moment, then shook his head, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “unbelievable.”

“Tyler,” you said sweetly, clasping your hands together, “please?”

“Darlin’, you’re lucky I like you,” he said, shooting you a playful glare before walking over to the tree. “You’re gonna owe me for this one.”

“Oh, definitely,” you teased, watching as he bent down to grip the trunk.

With a huff, he hoisted the tree off the ground and carried it across the room, muttering something about “indecisive women” as needles scattered everywhere again. You couldn’t help but grin, enjoying the show.

Once he’d set the tree down in its new spot, he straightened up and planted his hands on his hips, looking at you expectantly. “There. Happy now?”

You took a step back, tilting your head as you studied it. The glow from the window hit the branches just right, and you smiled. “Perfect.”

“Perfect, huh?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Glad we could get it right on the second try.”

“Third time’s the charm if you count the doorway,” you quipped, earning yourself a look.

Tyler stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against him. “If you change your mind again, I’m puttin’ it outside,” he warned, but the smirk on his face told you he was kidding.

You grinned, leaning into him. “Don’t worry, it’s staying right there.”

“For your sake, I hope so,” he said, dropping a quick kiss to the top of your head before glancing down at the floor. “Now, how about you grab the broom while I start cleaning up this forest you had me drag inside?”

The chaos of getting the tree inside was finally behind you, and the living room had settled into a warm, quiet calm. The scent of pine filled the air, mingling with the faint notes of cinnamon from the candle you’d lit on the coffee table. You fiddled with the Bluetooth speaker, scrolling through your playlist until the opening notes of a soft Christmas song floated through the room.

“Alright,” you said with a grin, turning to Tyler, “time to make this tree look like it belongs in one of those Christmas magazines.”

Tyler chuckled from where he stood by the boxes of ornaments. “As long as it doesn’t involve more rearranging, I’m game.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you grabbed the string of lights and began weaving them around the tree. Tyler joined you, holding up branches and handing you more lights as needed. Every now and then, his fingers brushed against yours, and you felt his warmth even through the chill lingering on your hands from being outside.

Once the lights were set, you pulled out the tinsel. The silver strands glinted in the soft glow of the bulbs, and you began to toss handfuls of it onto the branches. Tyler, ever the perfectionist, stepped in behind you, adjusting a few pieces and earning a playful glare from you.

“Hey, it’s supposed to look natural,” you teased, tossing a strand in his direction.

“Yeah? Pretty sure ‘natural’ doesn’t mean ‘thrown like confetti,’” he quipped back, laughing when you stuck your tongue out at him.

Then came the ornaments. You opened the first box, pulling out a mix of baubles, snowflakes, and sentimental pieces collected over the years. You cradled a delicate glass ornament shaped like a snowman, humming along to the music as you walked around the tree, searching for the perfect branch.

“Hmm,” you murmured to yourself, holding the ornament up and tilting your head. “Too low. Too high. Maybe…”

You trailed off, still lost in thought as you tested a few spots. The sound of Tyler’s soft laugh caught your attention, and you turned to see him leaning against the arm of the couch, watching you with a lovestruck smile.

“What?” you asked, your voice light with curiosity as you clutched the snowman ornament to your chest.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Just… you’re cute when you’re trying to decide something.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, and you smiled, trying to play it cool. “You’re just saying that.”

He pushed off the couch and walked over to you, taking the ornament gently from your hand. “I’m saying it because it’s true,” he said, his voice soft as he reached up and placed the snowman on a branch that was, admittedly, a perfect spot.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, admiring the tree. The glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, and the soft music wrapped around you like a blanket.

“You gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna help me finish this tree?” you teased, breaking the quiet moment.

Tyler chuckled, pulling another ornament from the box. “Well, if I’m not mistaken, someone here’s already got the whole magazine-worthy vision in their head. So I’m just following orders, sweetheart.”

You grinned, grabbing another ornament as you started swaying to the music. Without even thinking, you began humming along, your movements light and carefree. Tyler glanced over, his smirk softening into that same adoring smile as he watched you.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna start dancing now,” he said, his tone teasing but warm.

“Why not?” you shot back, twirling once before holding up another ornament. “It’s Christmas, Tyler. You’ve got to feel the spirit!”

He shook his head, a chuckle rumbling from his chest as he reached for another ornament. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a playful wink as you placed a bright red bauble on the tree. “But you love it.”

“That I do,” he murmured under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear, making your heart flutter as the two of you continued decorating your first Christmas tree together.

The room was warm, filled with the soft glow of the Christmas lights, and the tree—finally perfect—stood proudly in the corner of the living room. Its needles shimmered in the light, the tinsel sparkling and the ornaments dancing slightly with the hum of the air. You took a step back, your eyes gliding over the branches, taking in every detail with a content smile on your face.

Tyler, standing beside you, couldn’t help but mirror your expression. He gave the tree a satisfied glance before turning his attention to you, his lips curling into that quiet, affectionate smile he reserved for moments like this.

“It turned out good, didn’t it?” you murmured, still looking at the tree, but feeling his gaze on you now.

“Perfect,” Tyler agreed softly, his voice low and warm as he stepped closer to you. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You leaned into him, your head resting against his solid frame as he kissed your cheek tenderly, a soft brush of his lips that made you feel safe and cherished.

He didn’t pull away right away. Instead, Tyler rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as you both stood there, quietly admiring the work you’d done together.

There was a peacefulness in the moment, one that felt like it stretched on forever, the world outside slowing to a halt. Just the two of you, wrapped in the intimacy of this new beginning—the first Christmas together, the first tree.

For a long beat, neither of you said anything. You didn’t need to.

“I can’t believe this is our first Christmas here,” you whispered, a quiet amazement in your voice.

Tyler chuckled softly. “Well, I’m not complainin’,” he said, his voice still carrying that warmth, the sincerity of someone who didn’t need anything more than this. “I’d say this is about as perfect as it gets.”

You turned your face slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, and there, in the gentle glow of the lights, you could see it—how much he truly meant it. How much he meant to you.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice thick with the weight of your feelings.

Tyler’s hands tightened around you, pulling you closer as he rested his forehead against yours, your hearts beating in the same steady rhythm.

The tree sparkled behind you, the ornaments glimmering in the soft light. But in that moment, you knew nothing would ever be as perfect as this—Tyler’s arms around you, the love between you both, and the feeling of belonging you’d found in each other.

“Happy Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

“Happy Christmas,” you echoed, your heart full as you let the moment carry you both into the quiet night.

[lancestrollsgf]

# L’IMMACOLATA / CHRISTMAS DECORATING ! LUIGI MANGIONE X READER, WRITTEN

introduction master list request list series masterlist

# WARNINGS: english isn’t my first language (spelling/grammar errors), ooc! luigi (probably?), second person pov, lowercase intended. this is purely a work of fiction and that i do not encourage any criminal acts or acts of violence. (innocent until proven guilty)

# SUMMARY: the first part of decorating for the long-awaited holiday, is finding the green tree to have in the corner of your home. luigi and you have just gotten into a comfortable new york apartment, which now you have to decorate. both of you are now heading to find the perfect tree and decorations to add to your home.

# AUTHORS NOTE: first part of my new series. first time in a while writing an actual story and not an smau so please have mercy on me. this does not follow the current events, his backstory is not really mentioned throughout the story. luigi back issues do not exist in this story or series. definition: L’immacolata is the day that many italians put up Christmas trees and other holiday decorations. i tried to include some italian traditions i found online but had adding them into where i had already written was difficult. (word count: 2083)

the holiday spirit was already settling in, its warmth contrasting with the chilly new york december air. the long-awaited holiday had arrived, and with thanksgiving’s packed away and autumn’s remnants tucked into storage, it was time to transition into the most festive time of the year.

in your cozy new york apartment, you and luigi were ready to start decorating. following italian tradition on december eighth, the first step is to find the perfect christmas tree, to occupy that empty corner in your living room. it was the beginning of a tradition that you both hoped would carry on for years to come.

slipping on your shoes by the door, you glanced up as luigi adjusted his hair in the bathroom mirror. “are you almost ready, amore?” he called, his voice warm as it carried through the apartment.

you tugged your sneaker snugly onto your foot and answered, “yes! i just need to find and pack my bag.”

luigi chuckled softly. “is it not on the bookshelf near the door?”

that would’ve been convenient, but considering your clumsiness, it wasn’t there. frowning, you began scanning the kitchen, retracing your steps from earlier. perhaps you’d set it down while unpacking groceries. luigi soon joined the search, moving past the couch to help. just as you were about to give up and head back to the living room, luigi’s voice rang out victoriously. “i found it!” he held the black handbag up with a smile, crossing the room to hand it to you. “ah, thank you, lu,” you said, relieved. “i just need to check if I’m missing anything.”

while you rummaged through the bag, mentally running through your checklist, luigi sat by the door and laced up his boots. he glanced at you fondly, patiently waiting as you zipped the bag shut and slung it over your shoulder.

“ready?” he asked, standing up and opening the door for you. you nodded, stepping out onto the apartment’s stairwell, and luigi followed close behind. the cold december air greeted you like an icy embrace, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your sweater tighter. sensing your shiver, luigi slipped his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close to his side as you both walked onto the busy street below.

the city was alive with holiday cheer—twinkling lights strung between streetlamps, wreaths hung in shop windows, and the distant hum of carolers blending with the sound of traffic. your destination, a nearby tree farm, had been picked out this morning after scouring reviews and recommendations online. It wasn’t far, just a short walk, and as you approached, the scent of fresh pine reached your noses, filling the air with an unmistakable festive aroma.

“smells like christmas already,” luigi said with a grin, glancing at you as he rubbed his hands together for warmth. you laughed softly, looking around the rows of trees, each one towering and verdant in its unique way. “let’s find the perfect one, lu something that says us.” luigi’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement, and he nodded eagerly. “yes, amore. let’s make it special.”

the scent of pine grew stronger as you and luigi stepped into the tree farm. rows upon rows of evergreen trees stretched out before you, each dusted with a fine layer of frost that glistened in the dim december sunlight. the crisp air nipped at your cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. luigi’s hand found yours, his fingers gently squeezing as he smiled down at you.

“so, amore,” he began, his breath forming little clouds in the cold air, “do we want something big and grand, or small and cozy?”

you chuckled, glancing at the towering trees to your left and the smaller, more modest ones to your right. “hmm… i think something in the middle. big enough to feel festive but not so big that it takes up half the apartment.”

luigi laughed, his warm voice echoing softly in the open space. “good idea. we don’t want to be tripping over branches every time we go to the kitchen.”

the two of you walked through the rows, pausing once in a while to inspect a tree here or there. luigi would point out one with perfectly shaped branches, while you admired another for its rich, deep green color. neither of you could agree right away, but that was part of the fun.

“how about this one?” luigi asked, standing next to a tree that was taller than he was. he reached up and touched one of the branches, which sprang back gently under his gloved fingers. “it’s sturdy, and the branches are full.”

you tilted your head, considering it. “it’s nice, but…” you trailed off, stepping closer to examine the tree. “it might be a bit too tall. remember, we still have to fit the star on top.”

“ah, true,” luigi nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “okay, let’s keep looking.” as the two of you continued searching, you couldn’t help but admire how seriously luigi was taking this. his red christmas hat was slightly askew from all his craning to look at the tops of trees, and his nose was pink from the cold, but his enthusiasm never wavered. he kept turning to you, his excitement infectious as he offered suggestions and shared little jokes to keep you warm.

eventually, you both came across a tree that seemed just right. it was neither too tall nor too small, its branches were lush and even, and it gave off the strongest pine scent of any tree you’d seen so far. you stepped closer, brushing your hand over the needles, which were soft to the touch.

“what do you think, lu?” you asked, turning to him. he knelt slightly to examine the base of the tree, checking the trunk and giving it a gentle shake to see how stable it was. standing back up, he grinned and nodded. “i think we’ve found the one, amore. it’s perfect.”

relief and excitement washed over you. “really? you like it?”

“of course! it’s exactly what we were looking for.” he reached out to take your hand again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “and if it makes you happy, then i love it even more.” your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “okay then, let’s get it!”

a friendly worker helped wrap the tree for you, and soon enough, you and luigi were carrying it back toward your apartment. the journey wasn’t without its challenges—maneuvering the tree through crowded sidewalks and up the narrow stairwell to your floor had both of you laughing and out of breath by the time you reached the door.

but as you set the tree down in the corner of the living room and stepped back to admire it, you knew it was worth every bit of effort.

luigi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “there we go, amore. step one of decorating done.” you leaned into him, smiling as the scent of fresh pine filled the apartment. “it’s already starting to feel like christmas.”

you and luigi stood in the living room, admiring the tree now firmly in place. the scent of pine filled the apartment, the tree’s presence filling the space with warmth despite the cold december chill still lingering outside.

“well, amore,” luigi began, grinning as he stepped back to survey the tree, “step one is done. now, we make it shine.”

you nodded, your excitement growing. “yes! let’s go get some decorations.”

after a quick glance around the apartment to make sure everything was in order, the two of you bundled up again and made your way out into the crisp air, walking to the nearest shop that was known for having a lovely selection of holiday decorations.

the store was small but filled with the kind of charm that made it feel like it belonged in a cozy winter wonderland. sparkling garlands and glittering ornaments lined the shelves, while warm lights twinkled from every corner. you both instantly felt the festive magic in the air as you wandered inside.

“okay, what do we need first?” luigi asked, rubbing his hands together to keep warm as he looked around at the colorful decorations. his red hat seemed to glow in the warmth of the shop’s lights, and his excitement was contagious.

you thought for a moment, eyes scanning the shelves. “we need a star for the top, and definitely some lights. the tree needs to sparkle.”

luigi grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “oh, definitely some lights. and I think we could use some ornaments that represent... us.”

you smiled, already imagining how to make the tree feel personal, something that would reflect both of your tastes and personalities. you were already picturing small touches—maybe a little Italian flag ornament, or something playful to remind you of your time together.

the two of you moved down the aisles, carefully picking out a few strands of twinkling lights—warm white to match the cozy atmosphere—and then you began your hunt for ornaments.

“how about these?” luigi asked, holding up a set of small gold bells. “they remind me of home.”

you nodded, picking them up from his hands. “they’re perfect. let’s get them.”

as you walked through the aisles, you both added ornaments to the basket—a tiny wooden reindeer, a few delicate snowflakes, and some simple glass baubles in shades of red, green, and gold. each item felt like it would add another layer of warmth and personality to your tree.

finally, you reached the section for tree toppers, and your eyes immediately landed on a beautiful silver star that glittered in the light.

“this is it, lu,” you said, reaching for the star. “this is exactly what we need.”

“perfect,” luigi agreed, nodding with a smile. “it’s going to look amazing.”

after picking up a few more decorative touches, including a set of gold ribbons to add to the tree and a couple of festive-scented candles, you and luigi made your way to the checkout. you couldn’t help but smile as he carefully packed the decorations into the bag, his usual careful attention to detail making the whole experience even more special.

once back at the apartment, the two of you worked together to decorate the tree, the entire process feeling like a warm, joyful collaboration.

first, you wrapped the tree with lights, careful not to leave any gaps or let them tangle. luigi passed you ornaments as you decorated, his gloved hands gently handing you each one as if it was a treasure. “this one goes here,” he said, carefully placing a small red ornament on a branch near the top. “what do you think, amore?”

“i love it,” you said, stepping back to admire the progress. “everything looks so perfect.”

next, you added the ribbons, winding them gently around the branches. with each layer of decoration, the tree began to take on a life of its own, growing more beautiful with every passing moment.

finally, it was time for the star. you stood on a chair to reach the top, carefully placing it atop the tree. luigi’s face lit up as you stepped back, both of you admiring the finished product.

“it’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with awe. “just like we imagined.”

“i couldn’t agree more,” luigi said, his arm wrapping around you. “it’s beautiful.”

you stood there for a few moments, just taking in the sight of your tree glowing softly in the corner of the room. the lights sparkled, the ornaments glimmered, and the tree felt like a little piece of holiday magic that you had created together.

“so,” luigi said after a long pause, “what’s next? do we start baking cookies, or maybe light some candles?”

“cookies,” you replied immediately, grinning. “cookies are essential. but maybe first, let’s make some hot chocolate to keep us warm.”

“hot chocolate it is,” he agreed, laughing as he headed to the kitchen to get started. “this holiday is going to be amazing.”

you watched him walk away, heart full of love as you took in the glow of the tree. it wasn’t just the lights that made the apartment feel special—it was the way you and luigi worked together, making this place feel like home, like it was already filled with all the joy and warmth of the holiday season.

this was only the beginning, and you couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the season had in store.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

part two of the series coming out soon. happy holidays :) comment on the series master list to be tagged! (commenting here is okay as well)

[shepherdsheart]

Forgotten Child

DpxDc

Bruce would admit that he wasn’t near a perfect man. In all truth he was far from it really.

He had made hundreds of mistakes through his life and he had hoped he had learned something from them all but there was one mistake that stood out more than anything else.

The box in his hands had been proof of such, everything in it entailed just how badly he had failed. Failed as a man, failed as a person but most of all how he failed as a father.

It all started a year before he welcomed Dick into his life. It was one of his biggest regrets but also one of his biggest blessings as he stared at the new born baby boy in his arms. Soft blue wrapped around the little boy like tight arms as he held the sleeping baby close.

He had drilled that moment into his memories as he held the soft little bundle. It would be his first and his last memory of the boy in his arms. He knew the moment the pregnancy was announced that he wouldn’t be able to keep the babe. His life as Batman was to dangerous for a baby and as such he had made the decision to hand his baby to someone else.

Nobody but a trusted few would ever know of the young babe, no one would know Batman or Bruce Wayne had a son.

It had taken time and research but he had picked the perfect family. They would take care of his little star, he would be their son and not his. He would grow up safe and protect as Daniel Thomas Marshal.

Or at least he thought so.

Bruce didn’t give up contact with Daniel, each year he would send the boy anonymous gifts for his birthday and the holidays just as the elusive Uncle B. And as the boy grew they often exchanged letters.

His boy was smart, the top of his class and he was ohh so brilliant. He often drew pictures for Bruce where then man would store each with the letters in a box for sage keeping. Things had gone that way for years and Danny and he talked about many things. Bruce talked about life and Danny liked to talk about stars and the things he learned at school.

It had all been going so well till it all fell apart.

Jason had died and Bruce fell apart, losing himself in his grief for his lost child. Somewhere along the line after Jason’s death Bruce had stopped responding to the letters young Danny sent. He couldn’t bear to read them while he grieved Jason and at one point he must have told Alfred to just store them in Daniels letter box in instead of bringing them to him.

Somehow he had forgotten, he had forgotten the letters of messy cursive and doodles of stars and galaxy’s. Stories of school or life in the farm where he was being raised out in Wisconsin.

It was only because of his children that he remembered. A normal day of roughhousing and being shooed away by Alfred to take their antics elsewhere while he cleaned.

The kids had decided to take their games to the halls between there room and Damian and Jason to pick a locked door of a spare room that was never used and always locked. The others would never think to check the room as it was never opened. 

The boys weren’t expecting to find a old but well cared for nursery. The walls a soft blue, the The ceilings dark blue with plastic stars in the patters of constellations. A crib in one corner with space themed decor and a small bed in the middle of the room obviously for when the crib was outgrown.

On the far wall was multiple shelves with a few old toys along with books and many other small items. Then there were the picture frames scattered about the shelves and other furniture in the room. All had one thing in common, a boy with soft black hair and ice blue eyes but each photo the boy was more grown.

At first they thought it was Bruce but the photos were to new and Bruce didn’t have ice blue eyes. The boy was in a picture with his parents, a blond woman with blue eyes and a Black haired man with green eyes. Those weren’t Bruce’s parents so who were they and who was the child that was in each photo.

Before they could snoop any further the door had been opened and a Stern Alfred shooed them away.

It didn’t take long for the boys to question Bruce about the room he had long ago forgotten about. Bruce didn’t say a word as he had rushed over to the room that he had long sense abandoned before he closed himself inside.

There Bruce had cried, he had forgotten one of his children and he cried as he looked at the photos.

He had spent hours in that room before a wooden box to the side on a Dresser caught his attention. He knew exactly what that box contained and he dreaded opening it.

When he found the courage to lift the lid he was greeted by hundreds of letters. A portion opened but most were untouched, never opened to be read.

He’d spend the next few weeks slowly going through the letters. Danny wasn’t sure why he hadn’t responded but the boy wrote that even though he didn’t get a response he hoped the letters were reaching him.

He learned soon after Jason’s death when Danny was 10 that the Marshals had died leaving Danny to the State only to be adopted by a family called the Fentons a year later.

After that Danny’s letters became less detailed and more vague about his life but instead asking questions Bruce would never answer. The boy avoided talking about his home life and manly talked about school and his 2 new friends or he’d ask about Bruce, how he was doing? If he was ok? And so on. Somehow Danny never gave up writing to Bruce.

That was until the last letter, sent over a year ago in handwriting Bruce didn’t recognize. Jasmine, Danny’s adopted sister had written that dated letter over a year ago.

Over a year ago Danny had been killed, killed in an accident in the Fentons Lab. No body left to be buried only the address of an empty grave.



Notes

(Danny is 11 years younger than Dick, 4 years younger than Jason, 2 years younger than Tim, 4 years older than Damian)

Damian - 11

Danny - 15

Tim - 17

Jason - 19

Dick - 26

(Danny is Phantom but when he died he decided he didn’t want to deal with an abusive Jack and Maddie anymore so he continued on as phantom only being Danny with his friends and in the realms when he was safe with Allies)

[hearthandheathenry]

All About Imbolc

Imbolc, also known as Imbolg, celebrated on February 1st, marks the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox in early Ireland and Scotland, and also signified the beginning of the first signs of spring after all the harsh winter days. Originally a pagan holdiay in pre-Christian times, there is little in writing about the historic traditions and customs, although many historians believe it revolved around the Celtic Goddess Brigid, lambing season, and cleansing due to observed ancient poetry.

Brigid is a Goddess and daughter of the father-God of Ireland, Dagda. She is associated with quite a few things depending on the sources, but universally associated with wisdom and poetry. Other associations of hers are blacksmithing, protection, domesticated animals, childbirth, fire, and healing. She was also known as a protector of the home and the family.

Once Christianity arose, it is believed that the Goddess was syncretized with the Irish Saint Brigid by Christian monks due to the many overlapping associations. This caused Imbolc to quickly turn into St. Brigids Day and the next day into Candlemas with the rising Christian popularity, enmeshing the holiday associations together.

Today, many people have mixed the traditions and melded many associations from both religious and cultural history to celebrate their own unique way. Common ways to celebrate are making a Brigid's Cross, welcoming Brigid into the home, having a feast in her honor, cleaning the home and oneself, visiting a holy well, and in some parts of the world they still hold festivals and processions carrying a representation of Brigid. Many pagans nowadays are using associations of hers and their connection with nature to create their own ways to celebrate, however, and you can absolutely celebrate however you feel called to do so.

Imbolc Associations:

Colors - white, gold or yellow, green, and blue

Food - milk, butter, cheese, seeds and grains, breads, herbs, blackberries, oat porridge, wild onion and garlic, honey

Animals - sheep and lambs, swans, cows, burrowing and hibernating animals

Items - candles, corn dolls, Brigid's cross, fires, snowdrops and white flowers, crocuses and daffodils, flower crowns

Crystals - amethyst, garnet, ruby, quartz, bloodstone

Other - lactation, birth, feasting, farm preparation, cleansing and cleaning, the sun, poetry and creative endevours, smithing, water

Ways To Celebrate Imbolc:

make a Brigid's cross

light candles

have a feast

bake bread

plan your spring garden

leave an offering for Brigid

make a corn doll

craft a flower crown

clean your home

take a cleansing bath

make something out of metal

have a bonfire

look for the first signs of spring

make your own butter or cheese

do divination work and seek wisdom

write a poem

[bharatvarsh22]

RECONNECT WITH NATURE: AGRO-TOURISM AT BHARATVARSH NATURE FARMS!

In the bustling world, a serene escape awaits at Bharatvarsh Nature Farms. Dive into the heart of sustainable agriculture with our agro-tourism adventures. This article unveils the wonders of rural farm experiences, eco-friendly farm visits, and the magic of connecting with nature.

What is Agro-tourism?

In a world buzzing with technology and urban hustle, the concept of Agro-Tourism at Bharatvarsh Nature Farms emerges as a refreshing escape into the arms of nature. But what exactly is agro-tourism, and why should you consider it for your next getaway?

Embracing the Rural Farm Experience

Agro-tourism at Bharatvarsh Nature Farms revolves around the immersive experience of rural farm life. It’s a journey into the heart of sustainable agriculture, offering visitors a chance to witness the magic of nature and learn about organic farming practices.

Sustainable Agriculture Tourism: More Than a Trend

Sustainable agriculture tourism isn’t just a passing trend; it’s a commitment to fostering a harmonious relationship between humans and the environment. At Bharatvarsh Nature Farms, this commitment is palpable in every rustling leaf and blooming flower.

Organic Farm Tours: A Feast for the Senses

Embark on an adventure for your senses with Organic Farm Tours. Feel the soil beneath your feet, breathe in the crisp, clean air, and savor the vibrant colors of naturally grown produce. It’s a journey beyond sightseeing; it’s a feast for the senses.

Countryside Getaway: Escape the Urban Bustle

For those seeking solace away from the hustle and bustle of city life, Countryside Getaway at Bharatvarsh Nature Farms is the perfect retreat. Imagine waking up to birds chirping and the gentle rustle of leaves—a stark contrast to the urban cacophony.

Farm Stay Adventures: Live, Learn, and Grow

Farm Stay Adventures at Bharatvarsh Nature Farms offer more than a place to lay your head. It’s an opportunity to live and breathe the farm life. Engage in daily farm activities, connect with the land, and better understand sustainable farm practices.

Agricultural Learning Center: Knowledge Sprouts

The Agricultural Learning Center at Bharatvarsh Nature Farms is at the heart of agro-tourism. Here, knowledge sprouts like the crops in the fields. Visitors can participate in farming workshops, attend insightful sessions, and grasp the intricacies of eco-friendly farming.

Farm-to-Table Experiences: Culinary Delights

One of the agro-tourism highlights is the chance to indulge in Farm-to-Table Experiences. Taste the freshness of locally sourced ingredients and relish culinary delights prepared with love and care. It’s a gastronomic journey that connects you directly with the source of your food.

Eco-Tourism at Bharatvarsh: A Green Haven

Step into a green haven with Eco-Tourism at Bharatvarsh. The sprawling landscapes, diverse flora, and commitment to sustainable practices make this destination a paradise for nature enthusiasts. Every visit contributes to the preservation of this ecological sanctuary.

Agri-Tourism Destination: Beyond the Ordinary

Bharatvarsh Nature Farms transcends being just an agri-tourism destination; it’s an odyssey into authenticity. The blend of rural retreats, authentic farm experiences, and harvesting adventures makes it a standout choice for those seeking a genuine connection with nature.

Continue Reading: https://bharatvarshnaturefarms.com/reconnect-with-nature-agro-tourism-at-bharatvarsh-nature-farms/

[nhlclover]

CHRISTMAS TREE FARM KIRBY DACH

— event masterlist !

pairing: fem!reader x kirby dach

summary: yours and kirby's first christmas in your new house kicks off as you search for the perfect tree

warnings: nothing!

wc: 1.69k

notes: fic number four in my 12 days of xmas event! this is a cute idea in theory but i have heard one too many horror stories about spiders in trees to never get a real tree

Your first Christmas in your shared place with Kirby meant the changing of traditions.

For years, your four-foot-tall synthetic pine tree was the perfect centrepiece for your tiny apartment during the holidays. It fit perfectly in the corner of your living room, decorated in string lights and tiny baubles when the season came around.

But now, everything has changed. Your new home — a proper house, with more rooms and higher ceilings — called for something grander. The diminutive tree, once perfect, suddenly felt out of place in your freshly upgraded surroundings. It was time for a full-sized tree, one that matched the new chapter of your life.

Kirby, however, had other ideas. Firmly attached to childhood memories of fresh pine scent, he insisted on a real tree this year. His excitement was contagious, and soon, the two of you were bundled up and driving an hour outside Montreal to a picturesque Christmas tree farm.

The crisp December air bit at your cheeks as you and Kirby stepped out of the car, boots crunching on a patchwork of frost and dirt. Before you stretched a sea of evergreens - rows upon rows of firs, spruces, and pines, their limbs sagging under a heavy blanket of snow. The air was thick with the smell of pine and earth, mingling with the faint echo of distant voices and the whir of a chainsaw. This was not the bustling lot of pre-cut trees you'd frequented in the past, but a proper Christmas tree farm, sprawling and timeless, as if untouched by the haste of modernity.

Kirby, bundled in a black parka and a knit hat that sat slightly askew, surveyed the scene before him. “Alright,” he murmured, his breath curling in the cold air like smoke. “It’s out there somewhere. The perfect tree.”

You smiled, tucking your gloved hands into your coat pockets for warmth. “Just so long as it doesn’t take all day. My fingers are already frozen.”

Kirby grinned, his eyes alight with boyish enthusiasm. He hoisted the chainsaw out of the back of his car and started toward the nearest row of evergreens. “C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

The two of you meandered into the forest of trees, saw in hand, ready to claim a piece of this natural expanse for your living room. The first tree you approached was stately, its branches dense and green, with a satisfying triangular shape. You turned to Kirby with a hopeful look, but he tilted his head, squinting as if trying to solve a riddle. He circled the tree slowly, running a gloved hand along the needles.

“Hmm,” he murmured. “The back side has a bare patch.”

“It’s going to be against the wall,” you pointed out, already feeling a chill crawl up your legs.

Kirby shook his head, resolute. “We’ll keep looking.”

And so, the journey continued. Tree after tree presented itself as a potential candidate, only to fall short of Kirby’s exacting standards. Too sparse. Too lopsided. Too short. Too tall. The phrase just ‘pick one already’ hovered on the tip of your tongue, biting back the urge to utter it aloud as you trudged through the snow.

“Kirby, my fingers are about to snap off,” you finally said, rubbing your mitten-covered hands together for emphasis. “Can’t we compromise? Like, just a little?”

“We’ve only seen half the lot,” he replied, undeterred. “Trust me, the perfect one is out there.”

You sighed, casting a glance back toward the farm entrance where cheerful families bustled about, loading their chosen trees onto trailers. Kirby’s optimism was beginning to grate against your growing fatigue. You had dressed for the weather, accommodating the recent winter chill that had settled over Quebec, but the cold had seeped past your thermal socks and three layers of clothing.

At last, when you were two seconds away from abandoning your boyfriend in the snow, you found it — a towering Fraser fir, its branches full and evenly spaced, tapering upward in a perfect, natural silhouette. The deep, lustrous green of its needles seemed to absorb the fading light. Kirby circled the tree, his expression shifting from skeptical to satisfied, his gloved fingers brushing the branches as if to confirm its solidity. “This is it,” he declared, a triumphant smile breaking across his face.

You wanted to roll your eyes but instead let out a relieved laugh. “Great. Let’s cut it down before I freeze solid.”

Kirby started up the chainsaw, the sound of the engine roaring to life shattering the tranquil quiet of the farm. Kirby knelt in the snow, the chainsaw grumbling as he carefully angled it toward the base of the tree. The blade bit into the wood with a satisfying growl, and the tree began to teeter.

“Watch out!” Kirby called, grinning ear to ear. The tree groaned softly before yielding with a final crack, the weight of it falling into the bed of snow below.

Within a couple of minutes, workers — bundled in plaid jackets and exuding a practiced efficiency — arrived on a four-wheeler, securing your tree to the attached trailer and saying they’d meet you at the front of the lot.

By the time you and Kirby reached the front of the lot, the fading sunlight had stained the sky a dusky lavender. The towering Fraser fir sat waiting for you, propped majestically against a rustic wooden fence. Beside it, a cheerful teenager with flushed cheeks and a red woolen scarf waved enthusiastically as you approached.

As the tree was whisked away, Kirby dusted the snow off his knees, a victorious gleam in his eyes. “See?” he said, pointing dramatically after the departing four-wheeler. “The perfect tree was worth the search.”

You arched an eyebrow, pulling your scarf up over your nose to shield yourself from the persistent wind. “I think I lost feeling in my feet somewhere around tree number twenty-three. But sure, let's call it worth it.”

Kirby chuckled, brushing a light dusting of snow from your shoulder. “Come on, Scrooge. Let’s get to the front before you turn into a popsicle.”

The two of you began the trek back toward the lot entrance, Kirby glancing at trees as you passed. He nearly stopped by one, a full Balsam fir, but you yanked him away. The snow crunched beneath your boots, muffling your footsteps, and your breath curled in little white clouds between bouts of conversation.

“By the way,” you said, glancing sideways at him, “what’s the plan if this thing doesn’t actually fit in the living room?”

“Oh, it’ll fit,” he replied confidently.

“And if it doesn’t?”

Kirby shot you a playful grin. “Then we’ll just have to expand the living room.”

You laughed, the sound of it rising into the frosty air. “Great, I'll call the contractor. 'Hi, we'd like to add a wing to our house because my boyfriend couldn’t settle for a smaller tree.' That’s totally normal, right?”

He smirked, nudging you with his shoulder. “Admit it. You’re going to love it once it’s all lit up with the smell of fresh pine in the air. It'll make your little plastic tree look like a coat rack.”

You gasped, feigning insult. “That ‘coat rack’ served me loyally for years! It deserved a proper retirement, not slander.”

“Well,” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulders, “let's honor its service by making this Christmas the best one yet.”

The lot entrance came into view, marked by a small cabin strung with twinkling lights and wreaths. Workers were already waiting with your tree, neatly bundled and ready for loading. Kirby picked up the pace, his excitement ramping up again as he took in the scene.

Approaching your car, you surveyed the logistics of attaching the tree to the roof. Kirby grabbed the first end of the rope from a cheerful worker and gave it a determined tug. “Alright, teamwork time.”

“Teamwork?” you echoed skeptically. “You’re the one who chose a tree big enough to double as a communications tower. I think this is a you problem.”

“Correction,” Kirby said, hauling the tree into position with exaggerated effort, “it’s an us problem. Now grab the other side and help me tie this bad boy down.”

Reluctantly, you took your position on the other side of the car. The two of you maneuvered the tree onto the roof with no small amount of effort, grunting and laughing as branches poked and prodded at every exposed surface.

“Stop letting it slide toward me!” you scolded, trying to wrangle the base into position.

“I’m not letting it slide,” Kirby retorted, laughing as he reached over to steady it. “You’re just losing your grip!”

“My grip is fine. Your aim is questionable,” you shot back, attempting to keep your balance as you stood on the edge of the car.

Finally, after several rounds of repositioning, looping rope, and a near-miss with the antenna, the tree was secured. Kirby gave the rope one last triumphant tug and stepped back, hands on his hips as he admired the handiwork. “Perfect,” he declared.

You circled the car, inspecting the knots. “Perfectly ridiculous,” you muttered, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Are we sure this thing isn’t going to take flight on the highway?”

“It’s not going anywhere,” Kirby assured you. Then, as if to test his theory, he gave the tree a hearty shake. It barely budged. “See? Solid.”

“Great,” you said, brushing the pine needles off your coat. “Now let’s get home before I get frostbite.”

Kirby held the car door open for you with a mock bow. “Your chariot awaits, oh cold and cranky one.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched upward. “If this tree doesn’t turn out to be magical, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“Oh, it’s magical, alright,” he said, slipping into the driver’s seat and firing up the engine. “Just wait until you see it all dressed up. It’s going to be the best Christmas ever.”

As the car rumbled to life and pulled onto the snowy road, you stole a glance at the massive tree on the roof. For all the grumbling, the aching fingers, and the biting cold, you had to admit — Kirby might just be right.

[oaksbarnfarm]

Our Sustainable Farm Stay Delivers Great Green Credentials

SDL Pellets Ltd Chipping Campden Back in 2015 we increased our holiday accommodation offering by conversion of The Granary. At this time we needed to upgrade our heating system and opted to move away from Oil by installing a biomass boiler. Gas or propane were both expensive and not possible due to our location. At the time the shift to biomass was a big commitment, and required significant…

[whorekneecentral]

Christmas On The Farm

Erling Haaland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: family christmases, stealing a tree, use of an axe, getting caught, soft boyfriend erling, a few cheesy moments, fingering, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation kinda, penetrative sex (p in v), nipple sucking, creampie, getting caught in a different way :)

Word Count: 2,357

Author's Note: omg it's the big mannnn, anytime I think of erling, I think of the farm so here we are lmao - also this is for pookie too sorry lmao all her bfs are in here

merry smutmas series

--

Erling takes you home to spend the holidays at the Haaland Family Farm and you two end up being the only ones there. 

"Are we going the right way?" You look over at your boyfriend, the man driving through the snow.

Erling nods, "I promise I know where I'm going." He laughs, the wind shield wipers make a squeaking sound, brushing the snow away as he slowly makes his way up the road. He turns into the driveway, the snow really coming down as he parks the car.

"It's freezing!" You shouted, running up the front porch stairs to unlock the door. Erling rolls his eyes at your theatrics, getting the bags out of the car before following you into the house.

The door shuts behind him, Erling shaking the snow off of his hoodie.

The two of you had ventured up to the Haaland family farm for the holidays. His siblings and parents were supposed to meet you guys there but due to the snowstorm, their flights were canceled. They would be arriving on Christmas Eve rather than the 18th like the two of you so that left it up to you to get things ready for the holidays.

It takes the two of you an hour to defrost and get comfortable, Erling rearranging things to his liking and you were relaxing on the couch, finally glad to have your boyfriend to yourself and not have to fight for his attention during the season - though you had to give it to him, he balanced everything in his life perfectly.

"We should decorate," he announces, coming into the living room from the kitchen. You look at the man over your book, "okay, with what?"

Looking around, the house lacked Christmas spirit big time.

Before you could gather yourself, Erling's got you over his shoulder as he walks down the hallway. "I can walk, you know!" You say through the giggles, holding onto him.

He smiles, putting you down at the end of the hallway. "Where's the fun in that?"

You roll your eyes at his childish ways, letting him walk into the room first. The room was used for storage, all sorts of things packed away in boxes and containers. You flipped the switch, turning on the light as he looked around. Eventually you two found the boxes marked for Christmas - ornaments, garland, lights etc.

One by one you moved the boxes into the living room and you started on your tasks.

Erling braved the cold; something that never really bothered him - having his Norwegian blood and all - and strung the lights around the porch railing and roof.

You were working on the inside; wrapping the staircase in garland, changing the curtains to the red and green ones, hanging mistletoe, replacing the regular throw pillows for the holidays ones and things like that. Eventually Erling came back in, helping you with the rest of the tasks, a few miscellaneous things to do here and there around the house.

There was one box left, the big label on the top read ornaments.

"We need a tree," you looked over at him, your hands on your hips.

Erling smiles, "you look.. very wife like."

"Thank you, I guess," you laughed, "but we still need a tree. Do you guys have one somewhere? Did we forget it in the room?"

"You mean like.. a fake one?"

"Yeah, duh." You looked at your boyfriend, the look of confusion on his face. "We don't have one in the house but there's one outside."

"Okay where is it? In the barn or?" You trailed off, waiting for an answer.

"No, we can just cut one down." He says, tossing your hoodie to you. The sweater lands on your face and you move it, looking at the man like he was insane. "I'm sorry, we can.. what?"

"Cut the tree down. There's a few at the back of the property. It stopped snowing so we can make it and be back before it gets really dark."

You put your sweater on, looking for your coat. "Have you ever cut a tree down before?"

Erling shakes his head, putting his own coat on. "No, but it can't be that hard."

He was out the door before you could protest. You really had no choice now, did you? You followed the man to the barn, he pulled an axe out of some trunk and handed you a giant torch light. It was the blind leading the blind, the two of you trudging through the snow to find a Christmas tree.

Sometimes you really wondered what went through this man's head. Then you wondered if you were right in the head, following him through the snow in the dark to find a tree.

You find a few, settling on the biggest one you could get without it being too heavy to carry or too big for the house, and Erling started swinging the axe.

You took a step back; you trusted him but not when it came to chopping a tree down in the dark.

It reminded you of when you were a child, your father yelling at you to hold the light one way while he's doing something and you held it a different way.

So there you were, dragging a Christmas tree through the snow with your boyfriend. "Move faster," Erling says and you grumble.

"We don't all have superhuman strength, you know."

"Just hurry up, babe," he told you.

You grumble again, trying to move a little faster but between the thick snow, the heavy tree and holding the light, it was a little hard to do.

"What's the rush anyways ?"

"Well," he starts and you know that tone; something was wrong. "It's actually the neighbour's tree."

"WHAT?" you stopped, turning to face him. "WE STOLE A TREE?!"

He laughs, nodding for you to keep walking. "It's not that serious babe, just keep walking."

Sometimes you really wondered how you ended up with him as a boyfriend, but the fact that he made you an accomplice to Christmas tree theft is outweighed by how good of a boyfriend he is.

Despite all your huffing, you help him get the tree into the house in the snow off of it. It took about an hour of sorting for you two to settle on a theme for the tree; the classic red, green and gold. The ornaments hung off the branches, Erling strung the lights around the tree before finally plugging it in.

The two of you admired your work, his arms wrapped around you as he hugged you from behind, his chin resting on your head.

Your own hand rests on his, "I cannot believe you made me steal a Christmas tree."

Erling laughs, "is it really stealing though ? The tree is out in the open sooo.." He trails off, making you laugh. You turned to face him, your hands holding his jaw, "you're ridiculous."

He leans into you, kissing you softly. "'Tis the season for giving, baby."

"Yeah, sure."

"Speaking of gifts," he starts, his hands moving to rest on your lower back, pulling you flush against him. "I have one for you."

You brows furrowed, "it's the 18th, babe. You're a whole week early." Your head tilts to the side as you look at your boyfriend. The man smiles, shaking his head as he leans down to kiss you.

It clicks, you realize what his gift is.

"Oh," you giggled, the two of you shifting to the floor. "I like this kinda gift," you whisper, his lips moving to your neck.

"I knew you would," he mumbles into your skin, his cold hand slipping under your shirt. "Erling!" You shrieked, wiggling away from him.

The man smiles, "sorry."

He sits against the couch, watching as you undress in front of him. The leggings sliding down your smooth legs, pooling by your ankles before you step out of them, you pull off the sweater and that leaves you in the same blue set Erling loves so much.

You reach behind to unhook your bra but he stops you, “leave it on.” 

He pulls you by your waist back to him, his hand slipping down to rest on your ass before giving it a smack. You’re quiet, looking down at your boyfriend on the floor. 

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the blue lace. 

You smile, “I know.” 

He pulls you to lay on the floor, he’s sat between your legs with one on either side of him. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Erling pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy and he gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Baby, please.” your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

You try to wiggle your hands away from him, trying to grab on something. “Behave.” He tells you, adding another finger.

You subconsciously spread your legs, giving him more room. Erling's cheek presses to your inner thigh, watching as your face twists, pleasure all across it and your hands stop wiggling, he smiles, satisfied. 

Erling can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the blue lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes.

He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt. 

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

He knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more and Erling gives in - he always gives into you. Two fingers in you and he glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit. 

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 

He pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 

“What- why’d you stop?” You asked, pouting at your boyfriend in disapproval.

Erling sits up, patting his lap. “C’mere.” 

You manage to pull yourself up, your legs feeling like jelly as you move yourself onto your boyfriend’s lap. Erling's hands resting on your lower back, fingers dancing up and down the curve of your spine. They run up once more before they stop on the clasp of your bra. 

He unhooks it, letting the straps slide down your arms and land on your lap. He brings his hands around to your stomach, once again his fingers slide up your soft skin before resting on your tits. 

“Erling,” you call, eyes fixed on him.

He hums, his focus on your tits rather than anything you had to say. Gripping his chin between your fingers, he finally looks at you. 

“Please,” you mumble, the desperation all over your face. Erling smiles, there's a look you've seen a million times over on his face.

You’re up on your knees, hovering over his lap, your hands under you as you undo his pants. Erling helps you, pulling them down enough for you to sink down onto him. Your hand rests on his shoulder, giving you a moment to gather yourself before starting to bounce on his lap.

You look at your boyfriend, watching as he kisses down your chest, over your tits before his lips wrap around your nipple, tongue lapping over it. Your hand tangles in his hair, his name falling from your lips.

Your back arches a bit, pushing into Erling. His hand moves from your hip to your other tit, fingers pinching your nipple, twisting and rolling it softly between his thumb and index finger. 

“God,” you breathe, a hand raking through Erling's blonde hair. 

You rock your hips forward and Erling's head drops back into the couch, his eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips on his neck -- a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

Erling can feel the way you were clenching around him and he knew you were close; you knew he was close, his eyes closed and head back.

His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again. “Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of your boyfriend. 

“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more. 

He knew you like the back of his hand, every look, every touch, every movement, he knew you.

Between the two, he pushes you over the edge. The knot in your stomach comes loose and your boyfriend watches as you cum. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Erling follows behind you. 

The two of you are holding onto each other like the other is going to disappear, giggly and love drunk. Your boyfriend peppers kisses all over your face, your arms wrapped over his shoulders.

It wasn't until there was a knock on the door that you two froze, looking at each other. "Erling?!" The voice calls from outside.

His hand covers your mouth, your brows furrowed and eyes widen as you look at him. His lips are by your ear, "it's the neighbour."

You move his hand, whispering back to him. "The lights are on."

"Shhh, they'll go away if we're quiet."

You look at your boyfriend, lips pressed together in an attempt to muffle your laughter. He really did make you wonder sometimes.

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

[rhiannonsknife]

── ❆ DAY 10: christmas with jackie taylor

— summary: christmas with jackie taylor hcs.

— warnings: fluff. established, secret relationship. gn!reader.

jackie, who insists on going out for fun christmassy couple’s activities.

ice skating with her is definitely a non negotiable, even if you can barely stand on the ice. jackie laughs every time you stumble, even though she’s always quick to steady you. but ice skating is just the beginning. jackie has lists -literal lists- prepared months in advance, detailing every festive activity she’s planned for you. the local christmas tree farm is a must and jackie also insists on a trip to the nearest outdoor holiday market. bundled up in scarves and gloves you stroll through stalls filled with handmade stuff and hot cider. she’ll make a point of buying matching mugs or a keepsake items for the two of you, calling it a tradition you’ll have to continue every year. and, of course, there’s always a visit to see the town’s christmas lights, where she uses the darkness to your advantage and slip her hand into yours without anyone seeing!

jackie who surprises you with a self made advent calendar.

she hands it to you on december 1st with a casual shrug, like it’s no big deal. “here,” she says, setting it in your lap as you sit cross-legged on her bed. “i, uh, just threw it together” you stare down at it in disbelief, your fingers brushing over the little numbered pockets of red and green, held together with tape and a surprising amount of glue. each one is decorated with glittery stickers or hand-drawn snowflakes. “jackie…did you make this?” her cheeks flush a soft pink as she waves you off. “It’s nothing fancy,” she says quickly “just some silly stuff. don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?”

as the days go on, you open each pocket to find thoughtful surprises: a mini nail polish in your favorite color, a tiny ornament for your tree, a packet of hot cocoa mix, and handwritten notes. by december 10th, you can’t hold back anymore. “jackie,” you say, holding up a little charm bracelet she included that day. “you’re spoiling me!” she just grins, leaning back against the pillows. “it’s christmas!”

jackie who hosts a little christmas dinner for everyone.

she’d be serious about it!! she would probably spend the weeks leading up to it coordinating everything down to the last detail, from the playlist to the “optional but highly encouraged” dress code. so, obviously, her ‘little’ gathering is nothing short of perfection. aside from you (the guest of honor), all the other yellowjackets are invited as well.

she’s wearing a red velvet dress that night, and every so often (when she’s not walking around like the perfect hostess, making sure everyone has a drink in hand and knows where to find the snacks) you catch her glancing at you with a soft smile, like she’s proud to show you off: her parents are out for the evening, leaving jackie in charge, which means the two of you don’t have to sneak around or pretend you’re just friends.

“you’re glowing,” you tell her teasingly, watching her as she flits back to you after ensuring that nat doesn’t leave her cigarettes out on the patio. “well, someone has to keep this party running smoothly,” she says with an affectionate eye roll.

later that night, when jackie drags you under the mistletoe she insisted on hanging in the doorway again, she grins: “house rules”

“your rules, you mean,” you reply, but you don’t complain when she kisses you, her arms looping around your waist while the others cheer and whistle.

jackie, who has clearly inherited her mother’s relentless enthusiasm for holiday pictures

it’s a trait that becomes impossible to ignore as soon as december rolls around. she insists on documenting everything, dragging you into photo after photo, no matter how much you groan about it.“come here!” she’ll call you to the living room. “we need a picture for my scrapbook!” you groan playfully. “didn’t we take enough already? i think you’ve got every angle of me covered!” jackie only huffs, grabbing your hand and tugging you closer. “nope! this is our first christmas together. i’m documenting everything!”

her grin makes it impossible to argue though, and soon enough, she has you standing in the exact spot she’s deemed perfect, nudging you this way and that. she even adjusts your sweater, smoothing the hem and brushing imaginary dust from your shoulder. she then retreats a few more steps, squinting through the viewfinder of her dad’s camera and you can’t help but laugh at how seriously she’s taking it.

jackie, who is absolutely obsessed with christmas movies.

she doesn’t bother to hide it, either: she loves a good, festive romcom, and she will make that everyone’s problem (but mostly yours, as she suggests the fourth movie night of the week). you’d never admit it but you do enjoy the nights where you’re curled up on the couch with jackie, secretly holding her hand under the covers as her mother sits with you two, completely oblivious to your relationship. when the credits roll, jackie suggests another movie with a cheeky smile, and despite yourself, you agree, settling deeper into the blanket with her warmth pressed close to your side. by the end of it, mrs. taylor has drifted off in her arm chair and you take full advantage of the moment, leaning in and placing a quick kiss to jackie’s lips.

but also: jackie who has a general obsession with everything christmassy during the season.

specifically holiday-scented everything: candles, lotions, soaps; if it smells like peppermint, cinnamon, or pine trees, she’s all over it. the whole enthusiasm borders on comical, especially when she’s dragging you into yet another store to sniff every single candle on the shelf. she will light her new candle as soon as you walk through her door, filling the space with the aroma of cinnamon. “smells joust like christmas doesn’t?” she asks as she waves her hand dramatically toward the flickering flame. you raise an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. “it smells…like apples and cinnamon?”

“exactly!” she says, grinning like you’ve just proven her whole point.

jackie, who drags you to the family’s annual holiday dinner.

you love jackie to bits, but you can’t even pretend that you like the other taylors a whole lot: their relationship to jackie is already a difficult oneand you feel like her mom doesn’t like you very much 95% of the time. still, you’d rather keep her company and make the christmas dinner with countless relatives a little more bearable for her. the taylor family’s annual holiday dinner is everything you’d expect: elaborate, formal, and laced with an undercurrent of tension. jackie has been pulling her perfect daughter routine all evening, smiling politely as she answers questions about school, soccer, and college applications.

but you can tell it’s wearing on her; the slight stiffening of her shoulders every time someone brings up her plans for the future, the way her laugh doesn’t quite reach her eyes when her mom makes another “innocent” comment about her looks or her grades (“you really have to get new hobbies once you’re in college, jaqueline”, “when i was your age, jaqueline, boys didn’t want girls who did men’s sports”, “don’t slouch”, “don’t hold your arm like that” and so on and so on)

you’re already biting back the urge to yell at her from across the table when when one of her other relatives leans forward: “so, jaqueline, do you have a boyfriend yet?” you instantly feel her hand tighten around yours under the table. you jump in before she has to answer, steering the conversation in another direction. for the rest of the night, you stay close, offering quiet reassurances (a hand on her knee, a nudge of your shoulder against hers) to remind her that she doesn’t have to face any of this alone.

jackie, who refuses to decorate the tree without you.

once again, her mother doesn’t exactly understand why jackie’s “friend” has to be there for it, but then again, it means she won’t have to do it alone. you quickly realize that “helping” means following her mom’s precise instructions whilst mrs. taylor sits on the couch with a glass of wine and supervises the process. every ornament has a specific spot, every strand of tinsel must be perfectly draped. jackie rolls her eyes dramatically at her mom’s comments when she’s not looking: “a little more to the left,” “that one doesn’t go on the front, dear”. at one point, you nudge her with your shoulder as you both hang ornaments near the bottom of the tree. “watch this,” you whisper. then, you deliberately place a bright red ornament on the “wrong” branch, right in her mom’s line of sight. mrs. taylor gasps dramatically and immediately gets up to fix it, muttering something about “aesthetic balance.” jackie bursts into quiet giggles, hiding her face in your shoulder as her mom goes for a wine refill.

walks through the park with jackie.

the minute the first snow comes down and actually doesn’t melt right away, jackie insists on going on a walk. whether it’s early in the morning or the middle of the night. the snow crunches softly beneath your boots as you walk side by side. holiday lights twinkle from every tree, casting a warm glow on the fresh blanket of snow. “okay, picture time,” she says with a grin, pulling her gloves off and digging through her bag for the familiar camera. “again?” you grin at her teasingly. “yes, again” jackie deadpans, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you roll your eyes but oblige, standing still while she fiddles with the camera.

“okay, say something cute,” she says, snapping a shot as you laugh in disbelief. “something cute?” you repeat, shaking your head. “exactly!” jackie lowers the camera and looks at the display, smiling to herself. “knew i’d catch it. this one’s going on my mirror at home!”

and: late night drives with jackie.

she always insists on riding shotgun, fiddling with the radio until she lands on a station blasting holiday hits. she taps her fingers against the door in time with the music, glancing out the window as you drive. “this neighborhood always has the best lights,” she says, watching the houses go by in a blur of bright lights. you chuckle, steering down the rows of snow covered lawns and christmassy displays. “are we rating them this year?” you ask knowingly. “obviously,” jackie deadpans, already leaning forward to peer at the first house on the block. the entire facade is dripping in twinkling icicle lights, and there’s an inflatable snowman in the yard. “hmm,” she muses, tapping her chin. “six out of ten. sweet, but their snowman is crooked!” you snort. “tough crowd”

the car fills with her commentary as you weave through the neighborhoods for the rest of the ride. you know why she’s so eager to be out tonight: her house, as picture-perfect as it looks from the outside, isn’t always the warmest place to be. you’d never bring it up, but you’re more than happy to keep driving until jackie is ready to head home. it’s long past midnight when you finally pull into a quiet spot just out of sight of her house. jackie stretches. “this was fun,” she says softly, looking over at you.

you glance at her. “you don’t have to go back just yet,” you offer, shifting into park. jackie grins, her confidence returning in a flash as she unbuckles her seatbelt and climbs into the backseat. “come on,” she says, tugging your hand with a teasing look. “don’t make me kiss you in the front like some amateur!” you follow her with a laugh, settling into the cramped but cozy space as she leans into you, her lips brushing yours softly at first, then deeper.

jackie, who takes gift wrapping very seriously.

she has a whole station set up with ribbons, bows, and fancy paper that’s set up on the dining table with precision. there’s even a ruler for cutting the paper to exact dimensions, because of course there is.

you watch her from across the table as she carefully folds the corners of a package. “are you sure you’re not secretly running a gift-wrapping business?” you ask. your own presents are never wrapped as neatly as jackie’s. she just grins, obviously pleased with herself as she smooths the edges with her fingernail. you lean over to peek at the package, only to be gently swatted away. “no peeking!” she exclaims, holding it protectively against her chest. “you’ll ruin the surprise!”

jackie, who loves surprises!

she makes you wait until midnight on christmas eve to open her gift. by then, she’s practically bouncing with excitement as you finally unwrap it, watching your reaction with an adoring smile. “okay, okay!” she’ll say, dragging you over to the tree. when she hands you the little box, you shake it gently and jackie instantly snatches it from you again. “don’t shake it! you’ll ruin the surprise!”

“fine, fine,” you laugh, holding your hands up in surrender. she narrows her eyes suspiciously before handing it back, her knee bouncing as she watches you carefully untie the ribbon. there’s a necklace inside, delicate, and similar to the heart charm jackie has got herself, only that this one got both of your initials engraved on the side that will rest against your collarbones jackie bites her lip, watching your reaction closely. “so you’ll have a reminder of me,” she explains softly, her voice unusually shy. “do you like it?”

“like it?” you echo as you lift the necklace carefully from the box. “jackie, i love it!” her face lights up. “here, let me put it on you,” she offers, her fingers brushing against your skin as she fastens the clasp behind your neck. when she’s done, you touch the charm gently. “it’s perfect,” you say, leaning in to kiss her softly. jackie beams, her cheeks a little pink as she pulls back to admire the necklace on you. “i knew it would look good on you,” she says.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 115 (Getting Cozy With New Friends?)

The events of this post occurred after New Year's Eve at the Salty Paw (Generation 2 Pts. 106 and 107).

After an eventful holiday season, Heather Nesbitt phoned her youngest sister on New Year's Day. Hazel checked the call display and forced a smile. "Hey Big Sis, what are you up to?"

"Hey, Little Dandelion. Just watching the Holiday Yule Log on repeat (totally autonomously) before I do some bookkeeping for the clinic. Helps me focus, and they haven't taken it off the air yet this year. How are you doing?"

"Pretty awful," Hazel admitted. "I'm sorry we just left without saying goodbye last night. We were too busy giving each other the cold shoulder all the way back to Henford."

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you got home safely, but I know things between you aren't okay. I think we all hoped things would get better after you talked on Winterfest Day."

"We didn't really talk. We skated and went home and just didn't fight for a few days."

Heather frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hazel shook her head. "Not right now. I want to have a nap and then get out of the house for the night. It's weird being here surrounded by her family all the time. I feel like her mother and brother are constantly judging me."

"They love Nicola like we love you," Heather said. "But she shouldn't talk to you like she does. You don't deserve it. I'm willing to bet that a lot of what she's going through isn't even really about you."

Hazel sighed. "I just make it all worse."

Heather loved her baby sister and would always support her, but she never would have advised Hazel's next move.

To end a New Year's Day where Hazel spent as much time avoiding Nicola and her family as possible, she found herself drinking screwdrivers at the pub that night. She was alone, again, until she met Suri Romeo and flirted over drinks until well after midnight.

When the pub closed, they continued with a stroll along the River Bagley. The place near the village green, which had earlier that day been packed with locals for the annual Polar Bear Swim, was devoid of any lamplights, but Hazel could still make out Suri's smile in the light of the moon. "Are you happily married, Hazel?"

She didn't want to answer and pulled Suri in for a kiss. It felt electric - nothing like the kisses she shared with her wife. Not now, and maybe not ever.

But she thought of Nicola back home, probably asleep and snoring a little. Her wedding vows meant she wasn't supposed to do this, and she pulled away with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "My wife."

Suri nodded with an understanding smile. "I'm living with my grandparents at their farm in Old New Henford. Call me when you figure out some things."

But Hazel called Suri long before she had anything "figured out," inviting her to the first Finchwick Fair of the new year. "I have to be there with Mayor Varner, but it's really a great opportunity for you to live like a true Henford local," she told Suri, and they met outside the village green on a sunny winter afternoon.

"Did your wife not want to be here?" Suri wondered.

"She's grading papers and the Finchwick Fair isn't really her thing. She loves gardening, but she hasn't done much of it lately." Nicola recalled the woman she used to know with some regret before quickly brushing it away and returning her focus to Suri. "Here, I saw this video that made me think of you. It's a cat, but he's a chef. It's called ChefCat!"

They were interrupted by friendly Mayor Varner, who was happy to meet anyone in his town at any time. "Hello there! I'd never miss a new face!"

"Mayor Varner, this is Suri Romeo. She's just moved to town to learn to be a great chef from her grandmother, Clara Bjergsen."

"Ah! The Bjergsens are wonderful citizens! And your grandmother's baked goods are the reason I'm out of shape."

Suri smiled. "Hopefully one day I'll be just as good as she is."

"You'll have a wonderful mentor. Welcome to town, Miss Romeo!" He turned to a starry-eyed Nicola. "How are those new year's reports coming, Hazel?"

"I should be done this week, sir. It's a lot of information to put together."

He frowned. They both knew he'd expected those reports on his desk last week, but the work was a drag, and he'd given her too many previous extensions. She forced a smile for her boss.

When it got a little cooler, Hazel and Suri went inside the pub to warm up. They danced to some holiday music still playing on the in-house stereo, before Hazel pulled a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling. "Laura must've forgotten to take this down with the rest of the Winterfest decorations," she mused, but she held it playfully over her head anyway. Suri laughed, leaning in to kiss her quickly on the lips.

Hazel glanced around. The bar was mostly empty with most patrons enjoying the fair outside, but they knew they shouldn't be spotted doing what they were doing.

They continued to see one another in secret, hanging out at the community garden in Old New Henford to get to know one another. Suri told Hazel about life growing up in an apartment in San Myshuno with her parents and brothers, and about visits to Henford to see her grandparents and aunts every summer. She even told her about her mother's cousin Olivia, who was a basketball star at Foxbury Institute.

Hazel was happy to talk about her family - her parents, her sisters, her brother, all her in-laws and nieces and nephews - but not her wife. And she knew her friendship with Suri was dangerous. She wanted Suri all to herself and didn't want her wife to know anything about her.

As the snow melted beneath her jacket, Hazel would cloudgaze (even in Henford's mild, sunny winter climate) and imagine herself with Suri. Not Nicola.

She knew marriage counseling was the best course of action, but when she looked at Nicola, she didn't want to do it. When Suri entered her life, she could finally admit to herself what she'd tried to mask for years. Hazel was no longer attracted to her objectively beautiful wife, and no amount of counseling would bring her feelings back.

She grew increasingly careless in her time spent with Suri. She told Suri she wanted out, but conversations with Nicola these days always ended in tears. She didn't tell anyone what was going on because she knew they'd tell her to be better. To talk to Nicola, to end things with Suri before they went too far, to be a bigger person. She'd lost her will to care about any of it.

On Sportsball Sunday, Hazel wanted to go to the Gnome's Arms to watch the game. River had invited her to her childhood home, but Suri would be at the pub. She was getting ready to go when her girlfriend surprised her at home in the Bramblewood.

"What are you doing here? I was just leaving."

"I came to tell you my little cousin Jada heard at school that you and I are seeing each other."

Hazel froze. If kids at school were talking about Mrs. Moody-Nesbitt's wife having an affair, then... Sure enough, Nicola met them in the yard with a churlish grin.

"Oh good! You're both here, so I only need to get mad once before I forget either of you and leave while Hazel packs her things."

Hazel was quiet, letting Nicola unleash a torrent of disappointment at her affair. "It kills me Hazel. I wanted a family with you. It's all we talked about for years, but then I lost my dad and you cheated. And I found out at work, which is so embarrassing! My schedule was never the problem when it came to counseling. I worked the same schedule every day, I came home - you're the one who always had somewhere else to be."

Hazel was defeated and ready to leave, and she apologized for embarrassing her. "I shouldn't have been with Suri behind your back, but what are we really salvaging anymore, Nic? I'm sorry."

Nicola scowled. "Oh, you're done? Hazel, I already got the divorce papers from the courthouse. Sign them and get out of my house."

Though Nicola put on a confident facade while she took the initiative to end their union, they both left the marriage with regrets. They could have tried harder, if they were really meant to be. But more than anything, they could have waited to get married. Maybe then they'd never have married at all, and their differences wouldn't have been so hard to take.

And now, with the sunny weather betraying their broken hearts, Hazel Nesbitt and Nicola Moody-McMillan had shared their last cozy celebrations together.

How would each move on from here? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

The answers to that question! Nicola's next chapter begins here as a contestant on Dating Deanna, a reality TV series debuting in January by @changingplumbob, where dozens of contestants will compete for the heart of beautiful bachelorette Deanna York.

Hazel lives with the Nesbitt-Gordons for now, so we'll follow her story with Heather and her crew in Sims In Bloom!

This was hardly cozy, but I've written a couple surprise bonus posts for tomorrow/my Christmas Day that are much more fun, and they finish off the reward event with a lot less angst and drama!

NOTE: For the record, I believe in working on a marriage, but Hazel and Nicola's compatibility was awful once Lovestruck patched in. They truly grew apart, not at all together, and didn't have enough desire to put in the work to save their short-lived marriage. Then Hazel met Suri and they were flirty and got along so much better, so I figured she and Nicola might both be happier without each other and they divorced.

While Hazel has a potential someone, I was trying to think about what to do with Nicola when Dating Deanna was announced. I thought this was perfect because now I don't have to plot her next chapter, and if she doesn't win Deanna's heart she'll return with new lore and backstory to write for.

I know she has few fans these days and that's fine! But when she's with the right person and not cheated on (entering a bachelorette competition could really test her), Nicola will put in the work. She's too good and family oriented not to. Hazel, on the other hand, should possibly reckon with why she chose to cheat and not leave...