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matrixxsystem · 2 months

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I can't not tell you guys the story now-

buckle up sluts this so much more comfort and fluff than I've ever written before-

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This is how Leo found Marmalade This is a western AU where after the invasion the surface of New York was too triggering so they ran off to the middle of nowhere to try and heal. CW: This AU is a little dark, it wont be explored in full but there might be mentions of dealing with mental illness and having PTSD so just be a lil warned, but this is supposed to be just a lil one off about how he found his lil lady :3

Boots With The Spurrs

The sun had just reached the apex of the sky, heat beating down with such a vengeance you'd think someone owed it money or something.. Though lets be real, it wasn't like it was any cooler yesterday or the day before. The slider never minded though, he loved the sun and all that came with it. And that cool summer breeze that nearly blew his hat off, even as he held on while the wind shoved him back towards the house, or tired to at least- He loved that too. It was so clear each night and so quiet every morning.. The air was so clean, and the grass was so soft.. The first time he stepped foot on the property of their new home he spent a good hour just laying outside and taking it all in. He couldn't remember why exactly him and his family came out here, but it'd been maybe five or six years since they moved now, and it was a hell of an adjustment sure, any city boy would be turned on his head being stuck out in the middle of god knows where. But even when he missed some of the busy aspects, the bright lights and colors, the smells and constant chatter of people, he could only remind himself that there was a reason they left the city. Something about everyone's mental health, about needing space and time or whatever vague excuse Donnie told him each time he asked.

There was a small town not far from where they lived, maybe a twenty minute walk or so, and five minutes if they rode horseback. Oh yeah, didn't I mention? They bought a farm. Yeah, They bought a plot of land that was just outside a small town, fixed the place up, and since Donnie loves plants and Mikey loves animals it seemed fitting to start trying to grow things and really leaning into the towns rustic aesthetic. Who knew they had green thumbs.. Well… Fuck okay who knew they had metaphorical green thumbs- And would be oddly good farmers?? Yeah, me neither. Anyway, after the first two years things really took off for the brothers. And cause I can read your mind, don't worry, Aprils there too, she got a job working at the local news station, her and Mayhem easily became a hit. And Casey Jr came along, and Cass, hell even Barry decided he might as well tag along and make sure the brothers don't get into anymore weird time altering shenanigan's. And after Splinter.. Passed, it helped having everyone be there with them. Leo looked back up at the sky, trying to read the clouds to see if there was any sign of rain, maybe if he could convince the others.. They'd let him go into town for a bit, they needed food soon anyway right?

Oh yeah, second thing about this story. This is one where Leo lost his arm, yeah no, when Mikey pulled him from the prison dimension Kraang was just a little faster and dug his claws into Leo's arm, tearing it from his body as Mikey rushed to close the portal and save what was left of his brother. So yeah, most of the time he spent healing from that is just a blurred mess to him now, then he woke up in the turtle tank out in the country one day. He remembers people by his bedside in the medbay talking about it, asking Leo or trying to ask how he felt, if he wanted to go anywhere, if there was anything he wanted to do outside the city. Anytime it's brought up he's always teased about how he only said things like "I wanna be a cowboy baaabyyyy" or "I just wanna live on a ranch, and sit on a porch swing, with my boyfriend.." (He did not have a boyfriend, or know anyone who could even come close at the time) So they continued to poke fun at his responses, which he blames the pain medicine he was on at the time for.

Leo sighed a little as he sat on the old wooden stairs, rolling his eyes at the audible creek that came from the shift in weight. He took the very cowboy-esk hat from his head waving it in front of his face, trying to get a little more of a breeze to cool him off. He'd just been out moving the pipes Donnie ordered to make he's own watering system for the plants, he wanted to start a new patch on the other side of the house and Leo just knew he'd be bribed into doing all the dirty work somehow.. Though he'd do it if asked, he knew that something bad happened to all his brothers before they moved that left them all a little less able then they used to be. For Donnie his back got hurt badly, most days he was fine but some days he'd get these real bad flare ups and he couldn't put any weight on his back or be on his feet for more then maybe fifteen minutes at a time. Leo liked to call it his "No Bones" days, since he'd usually end up just rag doll-ing in his bed all day. It was actually pretty scary the first few times it happened, Leo wasn't sure why everyone else was so calm that his brother couldn't move. But after a while and a couple explanations he didn't fully understand he came to accept that for Dee it's just something that happens when he overworks himself.. For Raph he lost sight in one of his eyes and hates being snuck up on, there were scars over the eye but they didn't look like any animal Leo had ever seen, he didn't ask though. He knew he didn't like talking about it, none of his brothers did really. Even Mikey, who was an open book all other times.. He had some faint scars from his hands up his forearms, and if he used his hands too much they'd start shaking or locking up, he always blames him drawing too much when he was younger but Leo knew deep down there was something else he just wasn't saying. But like any other time Leo was able to quickly shake those thoughts from his mind, it wasn't important and if they didn't want to talk, then he didn't want to know. He knew enough, and knew prying would only hurt them in the end.

He turned his head to look at the front door hearing the screen door swing open, "Hey Leo, you finally had enough of tha' heat?" Leo put his hat back on and smiled up at his oldest brother, "You could say that- Think if I asked Mike would be willin' to make us some lemonade?" Raph's eyes lit up as he weighed the options for a moment, food always got his big brother motivated and Mikey always made the best lemonade..

Leo let out a little laugh at his brothers reaction, "Though if we're gonna have a drink I s'pose we'd need to head into town to get the lemons don't we..?" Raph tensed up a bit hearing the mention of town. Compared to New York this town was more like a small village- It was like something straight out of a western movie it seemed. Raph let out a little grumble, muttering something about town and Leo just laughed again, giving Raph a reassuring pat on the lower half of his shell. "Oh c'mon big guy, it'll take all of forty minutes to get in, out, and back home." Raph carefully passed Leo on the stairs, once again weighing his options. "Raph..?" Leo asked, a little softer, "I know I shouldn't keep askin, but why don't you guys like goin' into town? Seems like y'all lock up whenever it's mentioned but I can't recall the reason."

"Its.." There was a pause, maybe he was trying to think about his words so he didn't sound like he was yelling at Leo. "It's nothin' really, if you wanna go, we'll go. Saddle up an I'll give Don the heads up that we're goin for a ride." Leo practically jumped up to get ready, "Are you sure we wanna tell Don? If he knows you're goin he'll send you off with a whole grocery list to bring back-" Raph shrugged, "If we're goin' we might as well make sure we get all we need, 'sides, Don ain't feelin well again so it might be good to bring him back some more medicine." Leo glanced back at the house, up to the second story where Dee's room was, "He havin' one of his 'no bones' days?" Raph rolled his eyes at the name but nodded, "Yeah, just one of those days. Now go on and get saddled up while I run in and get some money and everyone's orders." Leo gave a playful salute and a 'yes sir!' before heading around to the barn where the horses we're kept. He gave each one a little attention as he passed, Donnie's being an all black horse of course, Mikey's being some kind of calico with all matter of spots and specks decorating its coat, and Raph's was a big ass Belgian draft horse with a dark grey coat that faded to black at the feet. And Leo's, it was this blonde almost iridescent light color. "Well hey there sunshine" He cooed as he opened her gate, stepping and and getting ready to head out, "Looks like we're goin' for a ride today, a real one, not just round the house. You excited?" The horse turned her head nudging Leo and almost knocking him over, he laughed as he gently pushed her back, "I know I know, I told Raphie we need to take y'all out more but he don't want me goin into town alone, don't think he wants me goin anywhere alone actually-" After he was all set he took her lead and walked out of the barn, nearly bumping into Raph on their way out.

Once they were both set they headed out, Leo riding up and around roads, goin as fast as his Sunshine would let him, she liked going fast too, part of why he was able to get her at all. Her last owner couldn't get her to calm down or stop running off or throwing anyone who tried to ride her. Leo pretty quickly figured she just lived a bit faster then others, just like him. So he'd made a bet that if he could ride her without being thrown he'd get a big discount. Instead of trying to get her on his level he got onto hers, encouraging her to run and jump to her hearts content, and they've gotten along pretty damn well since then. Once they got into town went and hopped off his horse, not bothering to tie her up unlike Raph and his gentle giant, who he carefully tied up at a post outside the local grocery store, pulling a few treats from his bag and setting them down. "Good girl Boots" He muttered with a little pat before heading into the store, Leo trailing behind. They browsed for a few minutes, well, Leo did, Raph just picked what they needed and only that. Going right to the sections that had what he needed, he really didn't want to be there longer then they needed to be it seemed.. Leo rolled his eyes and tosses a lemon his way, "Heads up Raphie-!"

The lemon bonked the side of Raph's head and fell into his basket, he turned to Leo with an unamused expression, Leo braced to be yelled at, to be scolded like they would when they were younger, maybe even a playful slap on the back of his head for being impolite at the store. But Raph just took a breath and sighed, picking a couple apples up and setting them in the basket next to the lemon. Leo pouted a little but let it go, it wasn't like he wanted to be yelled at, but it didn't feel right for them to not even fight playfully? He huffed and set another dozen or so into the basket and gave Raph a little shoulder pat, "I'm gonna go wait outside okay? Make sure Sunny ain't found any trouble." Raph just nodded, seemly he was almost done, the basket was already full but he was still looking for a few more things.

Leo stepped outside, a few people had paused to eye his horse, ones that pretty were usually pretty expensive so it made sense people would look at her. He whistled and she perked up, heading over and lowering one front leg to look like she was bowing, he was pretty proud of teaching her that trick.. Het gave her a few pats and praises and grabbed his bag off her side, reaching and getting out a sugar cube, "There we are, I knew I had one left in here. Whos a good girl? Hm?" "She sure is-" Leo turned around to see another yokai approach him, he hadn't seen this guy around but he sure looked familiar..? "Never seen one that well behaved before.. Your horse must've cost a pretty penny but you don't look the fancy type?" Was.. Was this guy saying he looked poor..? "Sunny here ain't no ones horse-" He joked, giving her a few more pats, "Ain't that right Sunshine? You don't belong to no man huh?" She flapped her lips blowing out a huff as she shook her head, turning to nudge Leo. He just laughed a little louder, "Yes mam, you're as free as the breeze ain't cha? You just follow me home for the treats huh?" The stranger smiled a little, he took half a step closer then stopped, "Is it alright if I pet her? Think she'll let me keep my hands?" Leo just shrugged like he wasn't sure but quickly nodded, "I'm just messin- Yeah you can pet her, she loves the attention don't worry." He nodded and stepped closer again, getting into her line of sight and carefully approaching. Leo took a step back and watched in the interaction, whoever this guy was he seemed to know a lot about horses with a temper, and she seemed to like him well enough.. He took his hat off setting is on his saddle to feel the coming breeze. Sunshine turned to look at him before turning back to the stranger and biting the brim of his hat, lifting it off his head and turning to put it on Leo. The yokai was a bit shorter than Leo, and without the hat long white ears fell on either side of his head, it was a rabbit yokai- Kinda cute actually... Not many of those in such hot and dry places like this town. Their eyes met for a moment before Leo realized he was staring at the stranger, "Ah- Sorry 'bout that, she got that lil trick from my little brother-" He took the hat back off and gently set it back on the guys head, "Think that mean's she likes ya heheh- Uh- Say stranger.. You got a name to go with that face?"

"Y-Yeah, sorry, where are my manners.. I'm Yuichi. Yuichi Usagi." Leo stuck his good arm out to shake his hand, "Leo. Leonardo Hamato. Pleased to meet cha."

"Hamato..? Like.. The Hamato brothers?" Leo perked up a little, "Oh? We got a name 'round here or somethin'..?" Yuichi shook his head, "No no, just.. You guys were a big thing back home, everyone in my village knew about you guys savin' people. Didn't expect to find you all the way out here is all." Leo looked a little confused, it'd been a handful of years before he'd done anything heroic.. But people still talked about them? That was kind of cool… Raph came out of the store and started putting his stuff away in the pouches strapped to his saddle. "Well Yuichi, it was a pleasure meeting' you. Not sure how long you plan to be here but if you need anythin' we live just down the road here up on brasshill." He picked his bag back up fastening it and hopping up. Yuichi looked surprised, "Wait- Brasshill? I'm stayin' with my auntie who lives on that road. She's also a rabbit. Leo gasped, "You're related to Nonanoka??? Dude! She's the best! Oh y'all gotta come over sometime then, we'll have a nice get together, tell her Leon's got somethin for her when you see her alright? Shes got our line if you ever need us." Yuichi nodded a little and gave them a little wave as they headed off towards the end of town, fixing the hat on his head and stuffing his ears back into it to get them out of the way.

Once they were back home Raph carried everything inside while Leo took the horses back to their stables, then headed inside once they were back safe. He opened the door being met with Mikey coming down the stairs, he must've heard Raph come in and wanted to see what all they got. "Heya mike" He said giving his hat a little wave before he hung it up, "Leoooo! You're back already??"

"Yeah, Raphie was in a bit of a rush I guess, he never likes to take long you know that" Mikey nodded a little and gave Leo a quick hug, "Well when you get everythin' put away I wanna go for a ride too!" Leo gave Mikey's shell a little pat, "As long as the suns out and Raphie don't mind stayin' with Don. I think he can be bribed though" He gave Mikey a little wink and moved his head to gesture to the kitchen where Raph was emptying the two big bags of food. Mikey peeked past Leo to see the fruit basket on the table now full of lemons and oranges. His eyes lit up as he got an idea, by now Leo was pretty good at getting Mikey to have ideas he thinks are original despite Leo being the one to plant the idea in his head. Mikey slowly walked into the kitchen with his hands behind his back as if he was hiding something, "Heya Raphie, how was the store? Y'all have a good time?" Raph glanced over to him and shrugged, "As good as going into town gets I guess, Leo made a friend I think, the nephew of nona-"

"Nonanoka has relatives in the sates? I thought she said all her family was back in Japan??"

"Must be vistin' or somethin, seemed nice enough tho.." Mikey scooted over climbing onto Raph's back to peer over his shoulder, "Ooooo, we outta bake nona somethin' maybe a pie? We do have a buncha apples now…"

"That's a good idea Mike" Leo said as he sat at the table, he reached for his satchel but then it moved- Everyone's eyes turned to look at the bag, "That- Wasn't just me right?" Leo asked hesitantly, both Raph and Mikey shook their heads as they watched the bag. Leo felt an odd sense, it wasn't dread, he didn't get a bad feeling, but something was making his anxiety go off the charts- He took a deep breath and slowly opened the bag,

"Mew!"

Leos eyes widened as a small kitten, maybe the size of Leos hand, wobbled out of his bag. It was orange with lighter colored stripes. It looked up at Leo and mewed again, tilting its head a little and glancing around to the others. Raphs eyes grew at least ten times seeing that little cat look his way, "Leo- How in the- Where do you even get a cat??"

"I didn't?? I don't- I didn't go anywhere-!" He slowly reached his hand out and pet the cat, it leaned into his hand starting to purr, "I mean I set my bag down to say hi to the new guy- Maybe this lil guy smelled somethin sweet and snuck in..? There are a few strays in that town…"

"Well- Put it back-!"

"Raph!! I'm surprised at you! Look at this sweet lil thing-" Mikey carefully picked the cat up to inspect it after getting off Raph's back, "Hey there lil one, you hitched a ride with the right guy, we'll take good care a' you.." Raph sighed a little, he was too tired for this and knew it was a loosing argument trying to talk them out of keeping the cat. "If we keep her we'll need to go stock up on food, and a bed, and a litter box n litter and a collar- It's a lot of work and on top of runnin' the farm and all out other animals-"

"Her?" Leo asked, Raph nodded, "Yeah can't ya tell she's a girl? She's a month old, maybe a month n a half- What? Why are y'all lookin' at me like that-? I like animals alright? Just- Make sure she don't get outside before we get a collar on her… I'm gonna go bring Dee some food before I start cleanin' up for the night." Leo nodded and looked back at the kitten, "She's so cute- How'd a miss somethin' that sweet sneakin' into my bag hahah.. She's gonna need a name too... Hmm" Mikey set her back on the table, "Let's see... Pumpkin? Cause she's orange? Or... Cinnamon?" "That might be a good name for a horse but she's a much lighter orange.. This lil lady needs a real good name.." "Maybe a snack will help us come up with somethin good! I've been cravin a toasted PB&J, you want one?" Leo chuckled as he was playing with the kitten, "Yeah, make it two if ya would" "Yessir! You want strawberry, marmalade or elderberry jam?" Leo perked up a little, "Wait, say that again.." "Uh.. You want strawberry, marmalade or elderberry jam?" "Marmalade..?" He looked over at the open cabinet, the jar Mikey pulled was filled with a light orange color, he looked back down the to cat, "Marmalade?" She tilted her head a little, it got her attention it seems. "So that's the one you want? ...Leo..? Leeoooo?" He snapped back to reality (ope there goes gravity) and nodded. "Yeah.. I think that's perfect."

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shootertron-stuff · 3 months

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On the Nametaker being a "nice" abuser

(noncon, forced feminization, forced pregnancy, infantilization)

(On a Black Legionnaire being convinced he was right to kidnap an Imperial Fist and force them to transition and get pregnant over and over again because "that's what most trans girls want".)

Farhad believing he's the good guy by kidnapping and altering Clothilde is just his perspective. Qui veut faire l'ange fait la bête.

I think it's an amusing scenario to explore - someone doing cartoonishly evil stuff in the name of helping the girl he's in love with and convinced he's doing the right thing. Regardless if the girl thinks he's being helpful.

How I approach his character is influenced by Elmyra Duff from Tiny Toons, and my experience owning guinea pigs.

Elmyra Duff is a girl who loves animals so much, but she is unaware how overbearing and scary she is to the animals, who run away. She isn't malicious, but her actions are still hurtful:

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I have two guinea pigs that live in a cage beside my bed. Every day I clean their cage and every week I change out their bedding. They run when I try to pet them or pick them up. I love them and spent so much money on them, but it feels like they hate me. This is Farhad annoyed that his wives don't like him.

Of course, if you treated people like you treated guinea pigs, by keeping them in a cage and chasing them into hideys so you can pick them up for nail clipping, taking them to the vet to get hormone injections without their consent, that would be wrong. But we guinea pig owners clearly understand that guinea pigs can't make their own decisions and wouldn't survive in the wild, so we make their decisions for them.

So imagine a guy who thinks Imperial Space Marines are guinea pigs. Adorable and darling, but beneath him and unable to make their own decisions. He's over 10,000 years old and a 200-year-old Imperial Fist is practically a baby in comparison. It's not like they had free will in the Imperium, he thinks. He is good at justifying his bad behavior to himself.

The love he expresses is the love farmers show their animals, because being mean to animals on purpose lowers their productivity. I like to overthink kink scenarios so from a realism standpoint...

He doesn't beat his wives or put them down on purpose because of self interest. He knows it will harm his children's development if their mamas are downright miserable. I mean, they're still miserable no matter how hard he tries, but they could be even more miserable.

This care, this love he shows does not negate how he infantilizes his victims and controls most aspects of their lives. There's no ethical way to "own" a person.

I don't think I should have to make him be awful 24/7 to get across to my audience that what he's doing is wrong!

I think it's a No True Scotsman fallacy to claim that abusive people don't really love their victims. Not to get all personal, but I know there's people in my life who've hurt me, who've infantilized me, who love me.

Also in a non-diegetic BDSM sense I like it when the hot dog boy Black Legionnaire is "nice" to his subs.

#taming hellhounds #farhad osrid nazari #clothilde nazari

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macravishedbymactavish · 2 years

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The Home Chronicles (David "Hesh" Walker)

TW: Angst if you squint (Hesh mentions his late mom), but fluff because I need happiness in my life

The Home Chronicles Masterlist

Since his 6th Birthday

It was a tattered old book (or "well loved!" As granny would put it with a waggle of the finger), it had most definitely seen some things-- but the cursive writing inside and small finger print smudges on the corners (likely the work of some tiny helpers long ago) pulled you in.

Which left you here, flipping through the pages of this unmarked recipe book. Currently sitting atop the counter eating a cookie from what you assumed to be the favored recipe in the book (judging soley on the fact that it was torn out but placed so lovingly back in it's place).

"Well look at you farmers market. One leave off patrol" Hesh joked walking into the kitchen area with you. "I should swap patrols with you more often. Granny" he smirked, sneaking a cookie off the plate and leaning against the counter beside you.

"I had time, I have motivation, and the world put a recipe in my path" you shrugged, wiping the crumbs off your other hand as you turned to see the boy beside you exploring space in his head.

"Hey, yo" you kicked his leg softly. "Farmers market to space cadet, where are you" you chuckled; knowing this wasn't a PTSD induced episode by how relaxed his posture sat. "Come on, what's going on?" You asked, tone changing to concern as you saw the telltale shine of tears in his eyes.

"Where did you learn to make these?" He asked, through a mouthful of food. Still staring straight ahead, unmoving.

"Fuck Hesh, learn to swallow then talk" you mumbled, hopping off the counter and grabbing the book. "Found this in one of the drawers" you shrugged, now noticing a tear sliding down his cheek. "What's going on?" You whispered, book and baked goods long forgotten.

"I haven't had these since my 6th birthday" he whispered, finally finishing the bite he took. His gaze finally turning to you.

"Mom used to make these every year for my birthday, and I haven't had any since" the small break in his voice caused a small pain in your chest.

Without second thought, you were pressed into his chest. Using every ounce of strength, power and affection to hug him like he was 6 years old and blowing out his candles again. Like he wasn't subjected to an unfair amount of tragedy. You ignored the shaking of his soft sobs, and he ignored the tears pouring down your cheeks as the two of you sat in the kitchen. Deciding which emotion fit the tears best.

"Thank you" he whispered, arms gripping you a bit tighter.

#call of duty ghosts #david hesh walker #david hesh walker x reader #call of duty fanfic

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nowoyas · 1 year

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can you talk about a wonderful life? i’d love to hear about it because it sounds like something i would like and i’d like to know if it’s worth the money ^_^

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes I sure can!

Okay SO:

I'm gonna approach this from the assumption that you're not super well-versed in farm sims just bc I have literally no other way of telling otherwise and that seems like the safest assumption to make to ensure proper information and blah blah blah

Story of Seasons: A Wonderful Life is the current-generation remake of the games Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life, Harvest Moon: Another Wonderful Life, and Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life (Special Edition). Why and how is it a remake of three games, you might ask? Back in my day (waves cane), there were separate editions of games in the genre for boys and girls. A Wonderful Life was for boys, Another Wonderful Life was for girls, and A Wonderful Life: Special Edition was for the PS2. This remake consolidates them, including the extra marriage candidate for AWL:SE and adding a new one to balance the potential marriage candidates by yassifying an existing character.

Generally speaking, the Harvest Moon and Story of Seasons games are farm sims! This means you can expect gameplay to look like this: You inherit/buy/wash up on/etc. a farm and take over as the new farmer, typically in a sleepy small town which may or may not have a Plot Problem For You To Solve during your time there. You grow crops, raise animals, and woo someone in the town to marry them and have a family while accomplishing The Plot! Usually, the general message of the game shakes out to be something about the peace of rural life and slowing down in spite of the world speeding up around you. There are exceptions to this rule: in Innocent Life, another game in the genre that was a spinoff of the pre-schism Harvest Moon genre for the PSP, you're not human and there's no dating elements and the focus is more on exploration and helping the town than on your farm, for example!

A Wonderful Life is also, marginally, different. See, A Wonderful Life was intended to be more true-to-life than other games in the series had been up until that point. This is why seasons only last ten days and a monster lives in the woods behind your house. Previously, games in the series were just as straightforward, with some key differences: buy a calf, raise it up to adulthood, and that cow will give you milk for as long as it lives. In A Wonderful Life? You had to breed the cow for it to begin producing milk, and after about a year, it would need to be bred again or else it'd stop and just take up valuable space in your barn. As I understand it, this is changed in the remake, but I haven't played enough to dig into exactly how!

Anyways I'm rambling due to the Autisms™. What I mean to say is, farm sims are about community and cozy, easy living. But typically, you don't grow. The community you live and farm in may grow, as either the goal or byproduct of the Plot (Harvest Moon: Sunshine Islands and Island of Happiness), or it may stay static, endlessly (Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town and More Friends of Mineral Town). You almost always have the option to have a kid, but typically, that kid grows to a certain stage and stays that way forever. (Notable exception, Harvest Moon: Tree of Tranquility and Animal Parade, where your kid grows up and then you play as the kid)

In A Wonderful Life, it's about the kid. The mechanics are centered around raising the kid, and how your choices affect theirs. If you don't get married and never have a child, the game ends. You leave the valley and return to the city. If you do marry, the chapter ends, and we fast forward to when you have a little toddler (?) running around. Who you befriend (including who their other parent is), how you care for your animals and plants, the things you show your child and the attention you pay them shapes their development. It's about life and birth and death and development and growing up in the countryside. Most importantly, it's about training your dog to perform a 6 foot vertical leap on command.

Please play A Wonderful Life.

#answered asks #anon #sos: awl #also like mamoru mentioned earlier in the remake they went really like chill about genders and things #you get to pick your pronouns now separate of your appearance!#they/them is an option!!!#marry whoever!!!

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twopoppies · 2 years

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Hi!! Do you know of any long fics that solely focus on Harry and Louis alone, without including the other bandmembers as characters? I’ve been looking but can’t find any good ones yet. Tysm!!

Hi sweetheart. I think the best way for you to find this sort of thing is to use the filtering tool on AO3. But out of 209 of my own bookmarked fics that only have Harry and Louis in them, these are only ones I can suggest that are 45K and over.

we can take the long road home by @pinkcords (E, 46K) This was absolutely gorgeous. And it made me cry, damn it. Seriously though, the writing is so beautiful. I loved the characterizations and the way they both showed their vulnerability. I loved the slow pace and the hot smut. I loved this fic

An Invincible Summer by Brooklyn_Babylon (E, 45K)

Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn't ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son.

The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about.

we can only look behind by hereforlou (M, 66K) Absolutely gorgeous writing. Childhood friends to lovers fic that made me cry multiple times (Yes, I was a mess). This one had such realistic expression of emotions and such three-dimensional characterizations. Just loved it. Link is to a download.

Tired, Tired Sea by mediawhore / @mediawhorefics (M, 113K) Always a favorite author, this one is beautifully descriptive and moody and charming. I was anxiously waiting for this one from the first drabbles I saw on Tumblr. I loved the way Harry’s character unfolded and let Louis in, the way Louis made space for him in his life (and heart), and the way Harry’s character struggled with and eventually found a way to live and be happy with his fame.

just call me inspiration by hereforlou (E, 52K) This author has steadily become a favorite of mine. I think this might have been the first fic of theirs I read. It’s beautifully written and contains some really great monologues about writing and art and creating and being ashamed of your creations. Link is to a download.

Victorian Boy by audreyhheart (now audreysheart) For anyone that hasn’t read this yet, it’s delightfully unique and layered with a little of everything – hate to love, romance, intrigue, action, betrayal, sex, and more. It’s well written, sexy – in a wonderfully Victorian way, and keeps you guessing.

Speaking of Marvels by navigator, quitter (E, 101K) This was one of the first fics I read in this fandom, but I read it again recently and had forgotten how really wonderful it is. The writing is so lovely and the characters feel so well developed. I especially loved how the authors explored how differently the two of them would respond to their relationship given the different stages of life they were in. It made the romance and the attraction and the angst feel really real.

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possumteeths · 2 years

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First line meme

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven’t written ten fics, share as many first sentences as you have.

Tagged by @miniature-space-hamster ✨

I have a feeling that all of my recent works are going to be so telling about my descent into house of wax madness.

Empty Wrapper Pretty Face: Bo Sinclair x Reader, there's a gloryhole. He gets edged and has to punch a wall like a toddler about it.

The bathroom key in your hands is attached to what you think is a gator’s foot trapped in yellowed resin.

Fate, up against your will: Slumberparty Massacre 2's Driller Killer x Reader. Very silly. It really is a slasher movie where the killer is in love with the final girl.

You have a crush on your guitar tutor and it’s starting to get embarrassing.

Hey girl, are you a livestock farmer? Cause you really raise my meat: Bubba Sawyer x Reader in a Dead by Daylight setting. Big cannibal is a big puppy actually. He thinks ur skin is very nice and he kinda wants to wear it but also you have some rlly nice boobs. This one was a commission and I loved every moment of writing it.

It’s not often that the cannibal thinks of home.

Hand in Unlovable Hand: Bo Sinclair x Reader. Exploring his mommy issues. Wahoo.

Bo doesn’t believe in ghosts, but his mother didn’t seem to give a shit about that.

After crying wolf for the third godddamned time, you start to sound a little repetitive: All tha sinclairs x Reader. You're a rougarou and you've crashed into corpsetown to give these losers a run for their money.

You’re hungry.

Girls Rule Boys Drool: Billy Lenz x Reader. Phone freak gives you a horny kinda gross phonecall to whack off. You bully him about it. He meows and you laugh at him.

Billy’s not sure where he is.

Girl, who taught you how to use a fuckin' iron?: Bo Sinclair x Reader. captain asshole is mad about something or other. Sigh. More horny crimes you suffer through in corpsetown.

While twisting his hand in your hair, Bo can't help but think that you looked like a fucking mess.

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better: Brahms Heelshire x Reader. Brat x Brat showdown. He finally gets some pussy in this fic so good for him.

The fridge door opened with a damning noise and Brahms resisted whimpering while a sudden spike of terror threatened to stab him in the gut.

They'll Pay You A Thousand For A Kiss & .50 For Your Soul: Bo Sinclair x Reader. Ur in the basement babes. It sure is horny but at what cost.

For the first time, you noticed that the camcorder in your basement prison was duct-taped to the wooden dowels your captor used as a tripod.

Mirror to Mirror: Homelander x Reader. You're an ehoe camgirl, who's whole gimmick is being homelander and using Vought brand toys. He thinks its a huge compliment because he is stupid.

A little notification at the top of Homelander’s web browser helpfully told him that he’d visited this particular page close to a hundred times at this point.

Yeah. For my last ten fics, there are FIVE that are Bo x reader. I have a problem. bjhgfkglyv.

Tagging: @ventiswampwater @visceravalentines @gaeadene @butterbabyflapjack @flaggermuser

Anyone is welcome to say I tagged them and tag me in this challenge lol!!

#poki writing #tag game #slasher x reader

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samwebsteruniblog · 2 years

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Penguin Book Cover

Complete Process

-Research

To start this project I wanted to look at all the books in a bit more detail, I wanted to get a better understanding of their concepts and story to help me visualise potential art direction for each book. To start I went through the blurbs and meanings.

-To Kill a Mocking Bird, by Harper Lee

‘Through the young eyes of Scout and Jem Finch, Harper Lee explores with exuberant humour the irrationality of adult attitudes to race and class in the Deep South of the 1930s. The conscience of a town steeped in prejudice, violence and hypocrisy is pricked by the stamina of one man's struggle for justice.’ ‘In this story of innocence destroyed by evil, the 'mockingbird' comes to represent the idea of innocence. Thus, to kill a mockingbird is to destroy innocence."’

-Animal Farm, by George Orwell

‘When the downtrodden animals of Manor Farm overthrow their master, Mr Jones, and take over the farm themselves, they imagine it is the beginning of a life of freedom and equality. But gradually a cunning, ruthless elite among them, masterminded by the pigs Napoleon and Snowball, starts to take control.’ ‘The grand theme of Animal Farm has to do with the capacity for ordinary individuals to continue to believe in a revolution that has been utterly betrayed. Orwell attempts to reveal how those in power—Napoleon and his fellow pigs—pervert the democratic promise of the revolution.’

-In Cold Blood, by Truman Capote

‘Controversial and compelling, In Cold Blood reconstructs the murder in 1959 of a Kansas farmer, his wife and both their children. Truman Capote's comprehensive study of the killings and subsequent investigation explores the circumstances surrounding this terrible crime and the effect it had on those involved.’ ‘In Cold Blood is a new form of journalism that is referred to as a “nonfiction novel,” which tells, as if it were a novel, the story of how Dick Hickock and Perry Smith conspired, prepared, and killed the Clutter family in rural Kansas in the fall of 1959′

-A Brief History of Time, by Stephen Hawking

‘A landmark volume in science writing by one of the great minds of our time, Stephen Hawking’s book explores such profound questions as: How did the universe begin—and what made its start possible? Does time always flow forward? Is the universe unending—or are there boundaries? Are there other dimensions in space? What will happen when it all ends?’

-How to be a woman by Caitlin Moran

‘Caitlin Moran wrote How To Be a Woman with the goal of making feminism more approachable for every woman by telling stories of her own life's struggles. She wants women to stop seeing feminists as radical man-haters and to start seeing them as advocates for true equality.’

-James and the Giant Peach, by Roald Dahl

‘When his parents are unceremoniously eaten by a rhinoceros that escapes from London Zoo, James is forced to go and live with his unpleasant aunts. Through a series of peculiar and magical happenings, James finds himself in a giant peach with a bunch of friendly giant insects for travelling companions.’

-Noughts & Crosses, by Malorie Blackman

‘They've been friends since they were children, and they both know that's as far as it can ever go. Noughts and Crosses are fated to be bitter enemies - love is out of the question. Then - in spite of a world that is fiercely against them - these star-crossed lovers choose each other.’

-The Outsiders ,by S. E. Hinton

The Outsiders is about two weeks in the life of a 14-year-old boy. The novel tells the story of Ponyboy Curtis and his struggles with right and wrong in a society in which he believes that he is an outsider. According to Ponyboy, there are two kinds of people in the world: greasers and socs.

-Penguins Briefs

This has given me a bit more information on each book I now will be looking into a few that catch my eye from content alone. I am interested in How to be a woman, Noughts and Crosses, The outsiders and Animal farm. I am now going to take a look at each brief for these books and see penguins guide on a successful cover to help me see if that can thin my choices.

‘The outsiders, The original teenage rebel story . . . The Socs’ idea of having a good time is beating up Greasers like Ponyboy. Ponyboy knows what to expect and knows he can count on his brothers and friends – until the night someone takes things too far. S.E. Hinton was only seventeen when she wrote The Outsiders. Told in a direct, first-person voice, it is a miracle of honesty with immediate appeal and is still every bit as powerful now as when it was first published in 1967. You are invited to design a whole new cover look for The Outsiders, in order to bring this classic to a new generation of readers, ensuring that this timeless story remains an integral part of every teenager’s bookshelf.’ This book sounds like a lot of fun with ideas of coming to age, rebellion and mistakes. I am also impressed by the age of the authour at the time when she wrote such a successful story. This brief needs to appeal to a new generation of readers.

‘Noughts and Crosses, So you are going to kill me... You set me up so your friends could capture me. You’re real good at letting others do your dirty work... First published in 2001 Noughts & Crosses deals with racism, terrorism, the class system and the artificial divides we always seem to put between ourselves and others. It is as relevant now as it was then.’ At first glance this seems to take inspiration from classic love stories like Romeo and Juliet but modernises them with newer first world problems, it deals with gritty often taboo topics so would be a really interesting task to visualise these issues.

‘Animal Farm, Orwell's chilling 'fairy story', is a timeless and devastating satire of idealism betrayed by power and corruption.When the downtrodden animals of Manor Farm overthrow their master Mr Jones and take over the farm themselves, they imagine it is the beginning of a life of freedom and equality. But gradually a cunning, ruthless élite among them, masterminded by the pigs Napoleon and Snowball, starts to take control. Soon the other animals discover that they are not all as equal as they thought, and find themselves hopelessly ensnared as one form of tyranny is replaced with another. 'Animal Farm is a timeless satire on the central tragi-comedy of all politics—that is, the tragi-comedy of corruption by power' Timothy Garton Ash‘It is the book for everyone and Everyman, its brightness undimmed after fifty years’ - Ruth Rendell‘Remains our great satire of the darker face of modern history’ - Malcolm Bradbury’. Im drawn to this book for its visual identity that already exists in other covers, however the political aspect could be fairly difficult to represent without reading the book in full.

‘How to be a Woman, It’s a good time to be a woman: we have the vote and the Pill, and we haven’t been burnt as witches since 1727. However, a few nagging questions do remain. . . Why are we supposed to get Brazilians? Should we use Botox? Do men secretly hate us? And why does everyone ask you when you're going to have a baby?Part memoir, part rant, Caitlin answers the questions that every modern woman is asking.‘This might just be the funniest intelligent book ever written’ Stylist ‘Moran’s writing sparkles with wit and warmth. Like the confidences of your smartest friend’ Simon Pegg It would almost be unkind to call this an important book, because what it mostly is is engaging, brave and consistently, cleverly, naughtily funny, but actually it is important that we talk about this stuff’ Katy Guest Independent on Sunday’ This book seems like a lot of fun to create visually, I also think the topic is very important and it should be spoken about and expressed to a new generation.

-Penguins guide to a successful cover

The cover design should encapsulate the essence or key themes of the book in an imaginative, instant and engaging way.

The design should give the prospective reader a sense of the tone and content of the book, and appeal to the broadest possible audience for it.

Evoke an emotion in the reader similar to the emotion when reading.

Be an attractive piece of design.

Be an original and unexpected interpretation of the brief.

Stand out, whilst still appealing to readers in the target audience.

Have a strong use of typography.

Have executed the use of colour carefully.

Use type, images and colour that work seamlessly together.

All elements of the cover (front, back and spine) need to work together.

The spine needs to be clear.

-Existing book covers

Here I wanted to look at existing book covers of the books I'm interested in redesigning, I wanted to get a feel for the visual work that represents and sells these books to help inspire me on picking a book but to also help me start to think of new ways to bring these stories to life in a new audience. I also looked at the authors other books and books with similar themes.

-Chosen Book, Animal Farm

I am going to pick Animal Farm I am interested in the concept and will try and listen to the book while I continue with this project, I was interested in How to be a woman however I don't think I could create it successfully or meaningfully without individual experience. So by picking a fiction book I feel like it could be a more successful project. So after this I then focused purely on this books story and message and researched this in more depth. I started by looking at the summary and drawing out points of interest that could be explored.

Quest for equality

Russian Revolution

Personified animals

Totalitarian Government

Animalism, 7 Commandments.

Soviet Union

George Orwell, Eric Arthur Blair

Corruption

Exploitation

Deception

Idealism

Apathy

Characters

Old Major, Boar, Carl Marks.

Snowball, Boar, Abstract of evil.

Napoleon, Boar, Communist Tyrant.

Squealer, Pig, Propaganda Machine.

Mr Jones, Man, Corrupt Government.

Pilkington, Man, Allied Countries.

Frederick, Cruel Man, Hitler.

Boxer, Horse, Uneducated exploited working class.

Whimper, Lawyer, Profit of Dictators.

Sheep, Ignorant masses.

Benjamin, donkey, Ignorant complacent.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFP1IMyKyy4&ab_channel=GradeSaver

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4wze-K9G3A&t=29s&ab_channel=CourseHero

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIZ8i9UUQMI&ab_channel=ClickView

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-XMeoJbpL-k&ab_channel=Lisa%27sStudyGuides

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGqrR_UZGPs&ab_channel=FirstRateTutors

Further Research

As this story is an allegory it is important that the work represents and portrays these symbolisms successfully, for that I need to understand the context in as much detail as I can, these summaries have been very helpful so far.

‘Radical leftist revolutionaries overthrew Russia's Czar Nicholas II, ending centuries of Romanov rule. The Bolsheviks established a socialist state in the territory that was once the Russian Empire. A long and bloody civil war followed.’

‘Most industries were owned by private industrialists. Though the government supervised factories’ working hours and wages of the workers, but still rules were broken.’

‘All political parties were illegal in Russia before 1914. ‘

‘Between 1928 and 1940, Stalin enforced the collectivization of the agricultural sector. Rural peasants were forced to join collective farms. Those that owned land or livestock were stripped of their holdings. Hundreds of thousands of higher-income farmers, called kulaks, were rounded up and executed, their property confiscated.’

‘The grand theme of Animal Farm has to do with the capacity for ordinary individuals to continue to believe in a revolution that has been utterly betrayed. Orwell attempts to reveal how those in power—Napoleon and his fellow pigs—pervert the democratic promise of the revolution. The emotional force of the novel comes from the author's depictions of those ordinary animals who unthinkingly give themselves in good faith to working for the very system by which they are ruthlessly exploited.’

‘Drawing on fable conventions, Orwell tells a farmyard story, casting revolutionary leaders Vladimir Lenin (1870–1924), Leon Trotsky (1879–1940), and Stalin as pigs, which—along with other common farm animals such as horses and hens—rebel against the tyranny of tsar-like farmer Mr. Jones. Set on a small English farm, the novel follows a collective of working animals that, as the pigs exploit them anew, toil pathetically day after day in the belief that they are remaking the farm as a republic.’

‘Napoleon later revises the history with contradictory details—announcing that Snowball actually fought alongside Jones against the animals. When the animals resist the new story, the pig Squealer (a master deceiver) convinces them that their memories are faulty. This pattern of firsthand experience superseded by revisionist propaganda underscores the tragedy, as Orwell sees it, of ordinary individuals who forego their better judgment in letting a totalitarian regime dictate a false reality.’

These sources and analysis will help me draw clear links to Orwell's fiction and reality, it will also help me continue with my research picking out specifics in both worlds to help me visualise the concepts of animal farm.

https://byjus.com/question-answer/what-are-the-main-causes-of-the-russian-revolution/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_Revolution

https://www.history.com/topics/european-history/history-of-the-soviet-union

https://www.gale.com/open-access/animal-farm#:~:text=In%20his%20short%20novel%20Animal,Stalin%20(1879%E2%80%931953).

Alongside this research I also wanted to look at existing art for Animal farm and then I will be looking at other relevant visual sources such as soviet era propaganda, George Orwell's other novels likes 1984 and more.

Visual Research

Looking at different book art and art inspired by the story,

Illustration art by Ralph Steadman’s,

Work on Behance,

Properganda Art,

Animal Farm theatre design,

Penguin Book Covers,

I know that to represent this book I want to create an original idea not just a design I want to create a cover that stands out from the existing covers but still heavily links to the novel, for this I will revisit the story’s connotations and look into these meanings and ideologies further. When I think of Russian Symbolism I think of vodka, cold weather and Russian nesting dolls. These don't link directly to soviet union Russia however if I was to experiment with these ideas Imo sure there could be links visually. I do quite like the idea of using Russian dolls as it fits nicely into the books story by having ideas and ideologies passed down, its also quite fitting with the links to Russia.

Potential Ideas

-Russian Nesting Dolls

‘Matryoshka dolls, otherwise known as Russian nesting dolls are one of Russia’s most iconic toys and vintage symbols. These stackable and nestable dolls resemble a vibrant babushka, or traditional Russian grandmother. The very first matryoshka doll came about thanks to Sergey Malyutin in the late 1800s. Just a decade or so later, the doll won the prestigious bronze medal at Paris’ World Fair.’

The way I would use them would be quite different than they are intended it would be almost opposite to the values these dolls share, however I think the visual representation of the ‘equality’ shown throughout the book could be really successful. I will have to learn more about these dolls before committing to the potential idea.

‘Matryoshka dolls are often designed to follow a particular theme; for instance, peasant girls in traditional dress. Originally, themes were often drawn from tradition or fairy tale characters, in keeping with the craft tradition—but since the late 20th century, they have embraced a larger range, including Russian leaders.’

‘In the late 1980s and early 1990s during Perestroika, freedom of expression allowed the leaders of the Soviet Union to become a common theme of the matryoshka, with the largest doll featuring then-current leader Mikhail Gorbachev. These became very popular at the time, affectionately earning the nickname of a Gorba or Gorby, the namesake of Gorbachev. With the periodic succession of Russian leadership after the collapse of the Soviet Union, newer versions would start to feature Russian presidents Boris Yeltsin, Vladimir Putin, and Dmitry Medvedev.’

I think that using Russian dolls would be a really powerful way to show the ideas being passed along down the chain to the most innocent, I think that because Russian leaders have already been created as nesting dolls it adds a layer off my original worry which was the dolls aren't representing there usual fertility.

I don't want to commit to any idea just yet so I will continue to add to this research and think of other potential ways to show this story in a unique way.

Experimenting with Composition

Here I began to experiment with the layout, I didn't have a finalised idea but I knew I needed to roughly begin experimenting with the format of book covers and spine. I also thought that getting used to the space it could help me chose an idea from my research based on the frame to work with. These are really quick experiments using squares to represent the use of Russian dolls, I found that a lot of these didn't look like they would work. I thought it was really hard to create a composition that clearly gives space to a back cover and titles etc. A few ideas were created that would be really cool to refine further to see if they could work, all of them being numbers 7, 8 and 9. These will be ones I will try out with some further experimentation. I also did a few rough drawings of the nesting dolls to see how they work with different shapes and stacked upon one another, again these are really quick and basic just to help me visualise the concept quickly.

Refining these composition ideas,

After experimenting with a few rough composition ideas I now I have an idea to use and to refine, I'm thinking of stacking up the dolls half open to show the ideologies being passed down through the animals. I am thinking of doing the main doll as the only animal as they will be the only full doll, the others will be a representation of their beliefs and who George Orwell based the characters on. So it's likely that these will be in uniforms/people clothes. I have a little template of 3 stacked up however I will also think about adding a fourth doll depending on the characters. I have done previous research into who the animals represent, I will take a closer look at the story to make sure that they stack in order of events or rumours like in the book.

Before going into the design I wanted to look at other illustration artists, to help me pick the style most fitting for this work. I am leaning towards water colour because I personally think it looks really well and means I don't have to be too realistic with the character designs. The artists I looked at where born or lived through the time of the Russian revolution, though they aren't Russian I found it unhelpful looking at artists way before the soviet union.

Water Colour Artists

-Paul Klee, I really like Klee’s use of colour, creating unique shapes and patterns with only a handful of colours. His work feels minimalistic yet every time I look back at the paintings I see something new.

-Winslow Homer, the detail in these watercolours are completely different to Klee and shows the range of using watercolours as a median.

Charles Demuth, I am drawn to these surrealist almost collage like watercolours as they are an altered state of reality similar to the altered worlds characters on animal farm exist in.

Development

I then began to assign each layer to a character, the first layer being Old Majors, then snowball, Frederick or Squealer and then Napoleon. I started by doing rough sketches which I then was going to colour with water colour paints however when I started this they didn't turn out well at all and I instantly didn't like it so I decided to create them digitally but editing them and manipulating the design to look like it was water colours.

I then experimented with the fonts I wanted a messy font so I experimented and manipulated different punk and gothic fonts till I found something I liked.

I also created a spine I have a few different versions already and will continue to experiment with the composition until I find one I want to keep. However I wanted some mock ups to show in my tutorial so I am using the one I find the most successful though this could change as I still have to create the back cover for the book.

Mock ups for tutorial,

Changes after the tutorial,

I was told to change the font sizes and to experimenting with text to fill in the white space, as I was doing this even changing the colour and opacity it felt very busy and I much preferred the white space to draw attention to the illustration of the cover. I then made the back cover, as I was designing the back cover I had to redesign the spine and front cover to make everything match as the different colour font felt too harsh on its own when I looked at the overall net of the design.

Final Design,

The design here is the most successful at first I didn't love the red text however now that it is equal amongst the covers and spine it works nicely, I think this cover is really successful and I think its eye catching and different to existing covers for the book.

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tailsrevane · 2 years

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my favorite video game sidequests

this was originally a patreon-exclusive post voted on by patrons back in june of 2022, but i thought i would start posting these elsewhere since i don't have a patreon anymore? so, yeah!

to be honest i’m a filthy casual gamer, so i do apologize if this isn’t the most interesting topic i’ve written about? but i did my best!

1. loyalty missions (mass effect 2)

i was going to do separate entries for all of these, but then i realized i would be covering almost all of them anyway if i did that. mass effect 2 really pulls out all the stops for its loyalty missions. almost all of them are as good as or better than the vast majority of the main quest, and i’m not just saying that because i’m a slut for character development. they’re some of the most varied quests in the game, some of them are dialogue-heavy, some of them are very combat-heavy, and some of them are so vital to understanding the overarching plot of the series that it is wild to me that they’re technically optional.

but oh yeah i’m also a slut for character development! so on top of them just being pretty darn amazing quests from a gameplay standpoint they also develop characters and relationships and open up new dialogue options and do all that great stuff. some of them even contribute to romantic subplots! woo!

2. the dark brotherhood (elder scrolls oblivion)

again this is technically a collection of quests, and in this case there are definitely some i like better than others, but the overarching story of these quests is just so brilliant it’s kind of hard to leave out. so, one of the things about oblivion is that you can join and rise to the top of the ranks of basically all the major guilds in it, and i do kind of wish the game locked you into only picking one guild and that that had some bearing on your character and the progression of the larger story, but y’know i’m a weirdo like that who wants that kinda garbage.

but yeah, the dark brotherhood gets introduced to you when you go to sleep after doing a murder. you wake up to discover an emperor palpatine-looking motherfucker who gives you the most hilariously creepy recruiting pitch ever, and yeah obviously i was hooked right there and then. going down this route will give you access to a kickass creepy lair with lots of creepy books and pamphlets scattered about, plenty of awesome creepy coworkers, a few great quests (my favorite probably being whodunit), cool gear to deck yourself out in, and when you beat the last quest and become the leader of the dark brotherhood (spoilers!), access to minions to follow you around and beat things up for you.

i actually developed a pretty big crush on a particularly twinky follower you can acquire, and whenever i lost him i would cycle through the other minions as quickly as possible to get him back. yeah, there may have been some fanfic going on in my head between that minion and my character. needless to say, while he might’ve been polite and deferential in the field, i imagined him otherwise in bed.

3. the sandral/matale feud (star wars: knights of the old republic)

this is a very long sidequest with quite a few elements to it. first of all it’s introduced by one of the belligerents just barging into the jedi council chamber and pleading his case which is always a great start. you also can’t really start making progress on the quest until you’re out exploring dantooine’s prairie and you’re gonna run into a bunch of smaller, unrelated quests on the way so that already makes it feel a lot bigger.

the quest itself is some romeo & juliet-esque shit with two feuding families only they’re space farmers with robot armies. there’s a kidnapped boy and a bunch of sneaking around and a huge confrontation at the end. all in all a staggering amount of effort was put into a quest that the player can just say “nah” and skip if they’re some kind of dumb idiot who doesn’t like fun.

4. canvas the castle (elder scrolls: oblivion)

it’s well-established that i love a good detective story, and consequently i love a good detective sidequest. i also love a good punny title for a sidequest, for that matter. so this quest in elder scrolls: oblivion where you’re helping a countess locate a missing painting ticks a lot of boxes for me. you have to interview suspects, gather clues, and it’s totally up to you what you do and in what order. a lot of times investigation sidequests like this are like talk to one person, your objective updates to talk to a different person, talk to that person, rinse, repeat. this one puts you in the driver’s seat in a way that’s very satisfying, and gives you a satisfyingly large area to investigate at that.

5. getting the horse epona (legend of zelda: ocarina of time)

i dig this one both because of the reward (you get a horse friend!!! and exploring hyrule becomes a lot easier) and because the quest itself is fun and has some interesting storyline behind it! and there’s just some fantastic character work with malon, who is just a terrific character all around. you really feel for her and want everything to work out okay for her!!

6. planetary storylines (star wars: the old republic)

so the way swtor works is that you have your main story which is tied to your class, and then each planet you visit as part of the main story also has some kind of overarching quest tied to your faction (republic or imperial). these are all pretty massive quests and doing them isn’t usually much trouble because they usually nicely line up with the locations the main story of the game is taking you, with few exceptions.

anyway, i’ll just run through a few of my favorites. one that immediately jumps out is on the imperial homeworld of dromund-kaas, you are tasked with infiltrating a cult that has formed around darth revan, the main character from knights of the old republic. you have the option of giving the cult up to your imperial superiors (or paying customers if you’re a bounty hunter), or actually joining them for real. considering that a lot of players almost certainly found their way over to swtor from kotor, i love this connection!

the imperial planetary storyline on balmora has you infiltrating the resistance movement there, and also brings you into contact with new planetary governor darth lachris, a tyrannical and sharp-tongued sith lady who nevertheless has a certain charm to her? (i’m saying she would probably dom the fuck out of you given the slightest provocation.) when you meet her she’s actually in the process of executing her predecessor, which you can try to convince her not to, but where’s the fun in that?

the alderaanian planetary quest for the republic is also kinda nuts because you’re basically intervening in a plot by one house to do a coup and install their patriarch as the king of alderaan??? so that obviously has some pretty huge implications for planetary politics. plus they’re weaponizing the killiks (they’re these giant bug things on alderaan that you probably already know about if you’re super into eu lore), and you fight a bunch of those, so yeah kind of a lot going on there!

7. murdered settler & sunry murder trial (star wars: knights of the old republic)

these are two murder investigations–one of them taking place at the scene of the alleged crime, the other taking the form of a courtroom drama. they’re both pretty great in terms of offering a lot of story and multiple good and bad outcomes, and they’ve got plenty of neat star warsy details. what has me rank them a bit lower is that, unlike oblivion’s canvas the castle they railroad you quite a bit more rather than being freeform. still, i always enjoy a good murder mystery.

8. citadel: asari consort (mass effect)

this is a pretty easy side quest, but it has lots of cool dialogue scenes. you talk to the asari consort, who is a sort of extremely high class courtesan who will probably step on you if you ask her nicely. apparently an ex-client of hers–a retired turian general–has been spreading rumors about her because she has rejected his advances. so you get to go confront a drunk turian and tell him off for being a creep, and if you play your cards right when you turn the quest in later you can get some asari nookie! so pretty good all around imo.

9. unc: rogue vi (mass effect)

the quest itself is actually pretty pedestrian. you drive your mako to a base, blow up its turrets, go inside, blow up some drones, blow up some vi units, drive to the next base, rinse and repeat. each base gets progressively harder as the vi is actually an ai that’s learning from each combat, but it’s an early quest and it’s nothing you can’t handle. what makes it make this list, though, is that i literally always make sure i don’t miss this sidequest because you get to land on the fucking moon and drive around on it and it’s just so cool.

anyway, yeah! that’s my list! i know i pulled these from like three game series, but i just don’t play a ton of games, even though story-heavy rpgs really are kind of my jam! so if anyone has any recommendations for me please feel free to chime in!

#video games #mass effect #mass effect 2 #elder scrolls #elder scrolls oblivion #legend of zelda #ocarina of time #star wars #kotor #swtor

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soncasong · 3 years

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It's Pride and I'm a gay guy who watches a lot of movies, so here's a bunch of gay movies with happy endings not named Love, Simon, because we have moved past the need for Brokeback Mountain.

Trick (1999): A cute little romcom about a one night stand going horribly, horribly right. It's a shame this movie isn't more popular because it's so charming and has so much fanfic potential.

Shelter (2007): I mean, this is a classic. Surfers, found family, pining, what not to like?

The Thing About Harry (2020): Ridiculously cheesy, ridiculously cute. It's essentially a modern Trick with an enemies to friends to lovers slant. Good for some mindless fun.

Goodbye Mother (2019): As a gay Vietnamese man I will never not shut up about how well this movie portrays that intersection. A story about a gay expat visiting his hometown with his boyfriend, the nuance, the drama, the tensions are all so very real to how gay men in Vietnam have to navigate around the question of family.

We are Gamily (2017): In the same vein as Goodbye Mother but with a more comedic slant. A gay couple has to pretend to be straight when a parent comes to visit, it's funny and heartwrenching at all the right moments, and heartwarming to boot.

Just Friends (2018): Dutch Shelter. Explores the tension between gay men and their mothers, particularly between a refugee family.

God's Own Country (2017): Happy Brokeback Mountain, an aimless Scottish farmer with an ailing father finds his purpose with help from a migrant worker. It's poignant, beautifully shot, and quietly understated. A must watch.

Maurice (1984): Edwardian gays. Ahead of its time and an affirmation that it's okay to move on from your first love, as well as the ultimate smashing of class divides.

The Way He Looks (2014): A blind boy falls in love with a new classmate, it's both a coming of age and a study on disability. It's so sweet and the ending is the ultimate catharsis.

Handsome Devil (2016): An Irish schoolboy befriends the new transfer athlete and discovers they have more in common than he thought. A really excellent portrayal of friendship and solidarity.

TW: These next movies all have references or show self harm, but they all ultimately end happy. No more images from here out because I've reached the limit.

Hidden Kisses (2016): Two teenagers experience their coming out process while romantically involved. I love that it shows both characters and demonstrates how the experience is different for everyone.

Latter Days (2003): Gay Mormon meets party boy and the rest is history. It's a little cheesy but the guys are hot and the love story is ultimately so uplifting you can't help but smile.

Fire Song (2015): An Anishnabe teenager struggles with the decision to leave his reservation and attend college. Probably the darkest movie on the list, but it also tells such an important story about aboriginal communities and the struggles of people who have been extremely marginalized.

Save Me (2007): A struggling drug addict checks into an ex-gay ministry. The most nuanced portrayal of these ministries I have seen yet and also a wonderful story of self discovery of not just the main character, but the cast that surrounds him as well.

Honorable mentions to Giant Little Ones Getting Go: The Go Doc Project, and Boy Erased because while in my opinion, they have excellent and happy endings, the main charcters do not get (substantially) hitched at the end and some people don't like that.

In no way is this a comprehensive list, and I'm always looking to expand my repetoire with more lesbian and trans stories (send me reccs!). This is just a reminder that there's space for stories with gay characters to end happy and that Brokeback Mountain is the exception, not the norm.

#Trick 1999 #Shelter 2007 #the thing about harry #goodbye mother #just friends #gewoon vrienden #thua me con di #we are gamily #god's own country #the way he looks #handsome devil #maurice

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loversandantiheroes · 2 years

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Babe what is eldritch farm I need to know

Eldritch Farm/Field Songs/Black Briar is meant to be an original piece based loosely off of Case History, but with a proper OC/MC and with more of a horror bent. This largely came off the back of some discussions with friends of mine a couple years back about the way Stardew kind of approaches but does not fully broach some big small town gothic/horror tropes and my own love of Stephen King and cosmic horror and such, which led specifically to this little ramble:

Ok no but seriously, it’s like, think if IT had been a less hungry and malevolent thing. Imagine this eldritch fucking demi god gets knocked out of inner/outer/other space/time and ends up buried over what becomes this small ass town. And when people finally start wandering into the place centuries later this thing doesn’t look at them and go “FOOD” it goes “COMPANY!” Like, lonely-ass trapped eldritch monster just wants friends and is like “IF SOME BOMB-ASS CROPS WILL MAKE YOU STICK AROUND I WILL GIVE YOU BOMB-ASS CROPS. PLEASE STAY, THE MOLES ARE TERRIBLE CONVERSATIONALISTS.”

Only this is still some horror shit so like, this poor fuck tried granting boons and wishes and shit early on when it didn’t understand humans so well and that led to some actual fucking monstrosities roaming the hills, and it’s just made sure they can’t get out of the area because it still feels bad for making them. So you’ve basically just got some poor schmuck that moves to the country like in every bad horror movie ever and it like aw yiss, I will be a farmer now, fuck city life, my farm totally isn’t haunted, everything’s great, hey the town doc’s pretty cute, aw fuck there’s monsters, there’s a cult, fuck me running there’s fishmen why does this always happen. But then instead of Cthulhu you get this giant sad boy that’s like "HE WANTED TO BE A GOOD SWIMMER SO I MADE HIM A FISH MAN, I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO GO POORLY AT THE TIME, I WAS STILL LEARNING ENGLISH. CONSEQUENTLY I DO NOT ADVISE SWIMMING IN THE LAKE. ….DID YOU BRING ANY CAULIFLOWER? I LIKE CAULIFLOWER.“

It's evolved a bit since then, rolling in some themes of grief, death, rebirth, nature, environmentalism, and a whole lot of godbothering, but the basic root of it is still the same.

#i'm very attached to this idea #it just hasn't quite been ripe enough to proceed with yet #eldritch farm inspo #field songs inspo

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bellakitse · 4 years

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Nothing ever stays the same

Farmer's Market redux.

A few days after running into his parents at the farmer's market, Carlos and TK run into them again. This time Carlos tells them who TK really is to him.

Spoilers for 2.04

They give the farmer’s market another try. TK suggests it since they didn’t get a chance to explore all of it the last time. Carlos agrees, even though he’s a little tentative about it.

TK swears up and down they’re okay and spends the rest of the week at his place. Carlos thinks it’s both to reassure him they’re fine and because Owen and Gwyneth are acting weirder than ever around everyone.

“They’re both jumpy as hell and secretive,” TK mentions as they walk around the market hand in hand, stopping here and there at different stalls. He smiles sweetly at the old lady that offers him to try one of her organic strawberries. Carlos watches him as he bites into it, smiling as TK’s smile grows at the taste. He opens his mouth when TK turns to him, offering him a piece, and nods when he asks if they should get a pound of the berries.

“What do you think is up with them?” he asks curiously after paying the woman.

“Oh god, who even knows with those two,” TK answers with exasperated fondness. It’s a familiar tone for TK when talking about his parents and their weird relationship. “I rather not speculate, to be honest. I don’t need any more parental trauma,” he says with a dry smile that says he’s only half-joking.

Carlos lets out a sympathetic sound before touching his shoulder, tugging him gently towards him. He’s relieved when TK comes into his space without hesitation. Even though TK has repeatedly told him everything is okay between them and understands his situation, Carlos can’t help but be unsure. He knows he really hurt TK just a few days ago in this very place, and the thought has been plaguing him since. He can’t stop thinking of when they first began and how TK’s reluctance to define them hurt him. But back then, they weren’t in love. If TK denied them now, he’d be heartbroken.

It kills Carlos that he did that, allowing his fears to take over, hurting the man he loves.

“Hey,” TK questions quietly, his green eyes soft and loving. “Where did you go? You were a million miles away just now.”

He shakes his head and forces a smile on his face hoping it’s enough to distract TK. The sad, knowing look on TK’s face tells Carlos it isn’t. He winces at the loud sigh he lets out.

TK reaches out, touching his thumb to his brow, smoothing it over, and Carlos can’t help a sound of his own at the gentle touch. He closes his eyes as TK leans in, pressing his lips to his temple as he hugs Carlos to his side.

“Stop feeling guilty already,” he murmurs against his skin, huffing out a dry laugh when Carlos tries to deny it. He gives Carlos a look as he pulls back. “It’s like you think I can’t read you like a book by now. I see every worried look you send my way. It looks like you’ve had a stomach ache for days now, enough, baby,” TK lightly scolds him, his affection for him shining through it. “We’re moving past it, okay?” he finishes in a serious tone.

Carlos looks at him and finds nothing hidden behind his eyes he doesn’t mean. He opens his mouth to say yes, that he’ll listen this time and move on from their fight when he stops short, the reason for their argument standing by the cheese stall a few feet away from them. “You gotta be kidding me,” he whispers, honestly shocked at the chances. Since when do his parents visit the farmer’s market so damn much?

TK turns his neck to follow his line of sight; he tenses against him when he finds what he’s looking at. “Damn, what are the odds,” he says under his breath. He turns back towards him with a smile so forced on his face, Carlos thinks he actually hears his heart break from seeing it. “I’m going to take a walk around the corner before they see me. You go say hi.”

TK takes a step away from him without waiting for an answer, and Carlos realizes he’s serious; he’s really willing to hide to make sure he’s comfortable. Carlos has never loved and hurt more for someone in his life. He sticks out his hand, taking TK’s before he can take another step away from him.

“No,” he says softly but firm even as his heart pounds like a jackrabbit against his ribcage as he comes to a decision. He’s scared, he can hear his pulse roaring in his ears, but he refuses to let TK feel like he did days ago; he won’t let them go through that again. “No,” he repeats once more as he gives TK’s hand a squeeze. “Nothing ever stays the same,” he reminds him of his comment from the other night, getting a quirk of TK’s lips in return. “And I don’t want it to.”

TK’s eyes widen as he gets his meaning; they stray to Carlos’ parents. They still haven’t noticed them but probably will in a matter of seconds. “Are you sure?” he asks, concerned. “This doesn’t have to happen now, I meant what I said.”

“I know,” Carlos cuts him off, knowing TK has been nothing but sincere since their talk. TK is more than willing to let him set the pace to this, and Carlos couldn’t possibly love him more for it, which is why he can’t hide him from the people he loves. “Come on,” he whispers, tugging on his hand as he starts to walk towards his parents. He feels TK give it a squeeze of his own.

“Mami, Dad,” he calls out to them, getting surprised smiles in return as they turn towards him.

“Carlitos!” his mother says happily, as his dad lets out a chuckle.

“Twice in one week at the same place,” he says with a grin. “Is the farmer’s market where first responders hang out these days? In my days, we’d just hit a bar,” he teases.

Carlos tries to smile at the joke, but his focus is on his mom, who has quickly zeroed in on his and TK’s clasped hands. She looks up at him with wide, surprised eyes.

She stares at him for a moment more, understanding entering her brown eyes. “Oh,” she says softly.

“Yeah,” he whispers back with his heart in his throat. “Mami, Dad – this is TK,” he says before looking back at him, not at all surprised at the love and support he finds in his gaze. “He’s my boyfriend, and the man I’m madly in love with.”

He turns back to them, finding their attention on him, though they both stray a look at TK once more. “I lied the other day because I was scared,” he tells them, answering their silent question. “You guys and I don’t talk about me being gay, and for years that has worked out fine,” he says, holding up a hand when his father opens his mouth to speak. “I know you guys love and accept me, but it’s been easier all these years to just ignore the elephant in the room because there was never anyone that really mattered to me.”

Carlos turns to look at TK once more, smiling at him as his heartbeat settles into a peaceful rhythm. He knows, no matter what happens next, everything will be fine because he has TK.

“That’s changed now,” he finishes knowing how true it is.

There is silence between the four of them for a moment before his father clears his throat. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, TK,” he says with a small but sincere smile.

“Yes,” his mother follows gently. “Very nice to meet you.”

TK swallows first before giving them a smile of his own; it’s nervous at the edges but beautiful. “It’s very nice to meet you too.”

His mother smiles at TK the same smile she usually reserves for him, it’s welcoming and kind, and it loosens the tension in Carlos’ shoulders. Proving she misses nothing, she instantly catches it, her expression changing once more as she looks back at him.

“You were scared to tell us about your relationship,” she comments quietly, looking sad when he gives her a shaky nod. “Oh, Carlitos,” she lets out a sigh before taking a step towards him.

Carlos swallows hard as she looks up at him, holding his breath when she reaches out, touching his cheek. “Tu sabes que te amamos, no importar qué, si? Siempre mijo, we love you,” she says sternly with tears in her eyes.

Carlos looks over at his dad, who looks affected by her words too. “Listen to her, son,” he says gruffly. “Your mother is always right.”

“That’s right,” his mother answers smugly, as she gives him a watery smile. She pats his cheek lovingly before she looks over at TK again.

“You have a kind face,” she tells him, chuckling when TK blushes a bit. “Sweet boy,” she grins. “I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“Maybe Carlos can bring him to Tia Lucy’s,” his father suggests suddenly, and Carlos lets out a startled laugh at the way his mother lights up.

“Yes,” she says enthusiastically. “Oh, you have to, Carlitos. You know how Tia Lucy loves pretty boys. She’ll adore him.”

“I would love to take him,” he says after clearing his throat, still a little shell-shocked at the turn of events. “That is if TK is okay with it.”

TK nods quickly as a bright smile takes over his face, and Carlos has to hide his own as his mother’s eyes widen in response; he understands her reaction perfectly. It’s taken months to not be completely overwhelmed by TK’s beauty.

“Okay, then,” his father says with a clap of his hands. “That’s settled then, we’ll see you both on Sunday. TK – “ he continues as he holds out his hand to him. “It was nice to officially meet you. You’re okay for a firefighter.”

“Thank you, sir,” TK chuckles as he shakes his hand.

Carlos is pulled into a hug by his mother and then his father, both of them squeezing him tight. His mother surprises both him and TK by pulling him into his own hug. She whispers something into his ear that causes TK to smile again as he nods at her.

They watch them leave, rounding the corner before TK turns to him with the gentlest smile he’s ever seen.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around him before the first tear falls down Carlos’ face.

He shakes, but TK just holds him tighter, running his hands up and down his back. Whispering that he’s there, and he has him until Carlos can take a steady breath. When he pulls back to look at him again, TK is ready, wiping the tears off his cheeks.

“What did my mother say to you?” he asks, holding his breath at the bright smile TK gives him.

“She thanked me for loving you,” he tells him, causing Carlos to swallow around another lump of emotion forming in his throat.

“She’s right,” he whispers as he leans in, pressing his forehead against TK’s. They stay like that, blind to the world around them. Right now, there is nothing but TK and his love in Carlos’ world. “Thank you for loving me.”

TK closes his eyes, his adoring smile firmly in place. “Loving you, Carlos, is the easiest thing I have ever done.”

translation for what Carlos' mother says to him: You know we love you, no matter what, right? Always, son

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #my writing

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jimlingss · 4 years

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Kale’in Me Softly

➜ Words: 17.1k

➜ Genres: 90% Fluff, 9.5% Angst, 0.5% Smut, Farm!AU

➜ Summary: After your grandfather's passing, you decide to take over his farm and plant the trendiest vegetable: kale. It's a struggle to be in the countryside when you've always been a city girl. But there's someone less than sympathetic — a grumpy farmer across the acres who's constantly trying to pick a fight with you.

➜ Warning: Strongly implied smut

cr.

Home — you left it all behind for this. The tractor chugs and wheezes. Its wheels roll over the craggy and unpaved road, making you feel every bump and pebble through constant jolts and bounces. The sweltering heat of the scorching sun was already making you break into a sweat and you sigh, listening to the buzzing of cicadas and the sputtering engine. But otherwise, it was quiet. More than what you were used to. There isn’t any traffic, honking, construction or the noise of motorcycle engines or sirens of ambulances. There’s just the rustle of leaves and the swaying of grass strands. “I can’t believe Old Man Seok had such a pretty granddaughter.” A laugh bubbles out of you. “It’s all in the genes. Did you know my grandfather?” “Everyone knew Old Man Seok. Everyone knows everyone here. But it sure helps that our farms are next door to each other. Just down yonder.” The middle-aged farmer grips the steering wheel. A good-natured aura in spite of his intimidating disposition, he feels like a strict but caring father figure. “He was very kind even to the end of his life. Offered my family a lot of jam throughout the years. A good man through and through. My condolences.” Your smile softens. “Thank you.” “I gotta say, it’s nice to have a new face around these neck of the woods. Doesn’t happen often.” The corner of the man’s mouth pulls and the wrinkles by his eyes crease. “You should come meet my son sometime.” “I wouldn’t mind.” The tractor pulls up to the worn house you’ve seen in your mother’s childhood pictures. “I always love making new friends.” You hop off the tractor the moment it comes to a stop and the man wishes you luck before you thank him again and he’s on his merry way. With only one packed suitcase in hand, you walk up to the house and push your Gucci sunglasses to the top of your head to get a better look. The fence, door and roof are made with a cherry wood that compliments the forest green walls. The patio, on the other hand, is out of oak that matches the rocking chair in the corner. There’s white trim lining the rectangular windows, giving you a peek at the purple, paisley curtains inside. The house looks tattered through time, but cozy. “You’re leaving?!” — “Do you really think this is a good idea, Y/N?” — “Do you even know what you’re going to do there?” The voices of the friends you left behind echo in the recesses of your mind while you fiddle with the hem of your dress in the shade of classical blue — 2020’s pantone colour and a fantastic fashion statement. It’s not farm-appropriate, but better than most of the things in your closet. You went shopping for the last time before you packed your one pink suitcase, but you’re starting to realize those tight, denim overalls might not work like they do in the movies. “You think you can run a farm?!” — “I didn’t raise you so you could go back to the countryside!” — “You don’t even know what you’re doing, Y/N! Grow up already and stop being ridiculous.” An exhale squeezes out of you as you dispel away your family’s discouragement and you grip your grandfather’s letter as you finally muster the courage to approach the house. When your grandfather passed away, you inherited ten thousand dollars and his five acre farm. It’s small. Nothing worthy of bragging about and one of the hundred of reasons everyone thought you would sell it. They even urged you to, so they could get a split of the money. But they never thought you would refuse. That you would leave everything behind and come all the way here. It’s a mess. Thick layers of dust coat the antique furniture and peering out from the kitchen window, the field is littered in leaves and twigs, wooden planks and debris. A sense of guilt overwhelms you. You can’t believe your family let it become this way. You set down your belongings and almost immediately, you begin to look around. Pacing the backyard, the field, the barn, trying to figure out what is what. And it’s not long before a dark-haired man with doe eyes and a permanent dear-in-headlights expression finds you. He nearly startles you to death with his timid greeting. “H-Hi...” “Holy shit!” You press your hand to your chest, spinning around and he boyishly grins. “You scared me!” “S-Sorry…my bad...” Boots, jeans and a white shirt, he looks like a newly graduated high school student who stumbled into the wrong place. “Are you Y/N?” “That’s me.” You wonder if he’s here to kill you. The farm setting was the perfect location after all and serial killers these days have the potential of looking as cute as he does. “You’re...?” “I’m Jungkook. I used to work with Old Man Seok. My mom told me you’d be comin’ today and that I should show you around, so….” He scratches the back of his neck, oddly endearing for how awkward he is. You let him guide you despite having already gotten the chance to peek at almost everything — a detail you leave out to spare him from being disheartened. But with Jungkook here, he has the strength to widen the doors of the old shed out back and you get a better look at the storage and old equipment. “God.” You cough and bat your hand from the dust piles arising. “It’s so dirty.” “Yeah. The tractor needs a bit of fixin’ up which I can help you with, if you need.” It’s clear that towards the end of your grandfather’s life, he was too weak to properly take care of his property. You can tell by the way the field is in tatters, all his crops long dead and his machinery is in desperate need of repair. But as you gander at the space, you discover that there’s everything you need right here. Shovels. Wheelbarrows. Sickles and spades. “Thank you. I would appreciate that.” Jungkook nods, wearing a small smile. “Your grandpa used to help me out a lot, so it’s the least I can do. If you ever need any help, I’m down a few acres West by the market. Just give a holler.” Your cheeks warm, realizing he’s not as young as he appears to be. “I will.” After a while longer, Jungkook leaves you to get settled down and you bid him farewell. You know it’s going to take a bit of time for you to get used to this change, but with a sigh, you try your best to familiarize yourself with the land and surrounding climate. // Back in LA, you were a fashion design marketer. Originally, you set out to fulfill your childhood dream of being a top designer for a big brand like Chanel or Dior, but along the way, you ended up in the marketing sector. It wasn’t as bad as what people thought. A kind of niche you actually quite enjoyed and while you might've left it all behind for the farm life, you know the first step to starting anything is doing market research. So at nine in the morning sharp, you enter the farmers’ market. Open every Sunday, there’s a certain bustle and liveliness in the atmosphere. People from surrounding communities and even far away cities have come to get their fresh produce and dairy products. The market place is held in an open building with doors and massive garages wide open, practically held outdoors itself, and as you walk along the stands, you notice goat milk to beeswax lip balm being sold. There’s everything someone could ask for, bath salts and herbal soaps, baked goods and handmade aprons and quilts. You didn’t know farmers’ markets had so much to offer. “Would you like to try some raspberry jam, darlin’?” A plump lady offers you a spatula. “Sure. Thank you.” The sweet taste ends up bursting on your palette and you hum at the taste, considering buying a jar for breakfast. But she interrupts with a curious stare and a bigger smile. “I haven’t seen you around before, dear. Did you come from somewhere far?” “Oh no, I just moved in. My grandpa was Seokjin….” “You mean Old Man Seok?” Her entire spine straightens, face lighting up. “I never knew he had a granddaughter!” You warm, proud that your grandfather’s made such a lasting impression. “I just moved in a few acres away.” “Taking care of your grandpa’s farm?” she asks and when you nod, the woman practically swoons. “Why, what a gracious thing you’re doin’! Old Man Seok would be proud to have a granddaughter like you! Keepin’ his legacy alive like that. Heaven knows I can’t even get my boy up to milk the cows!” You laugh and she ends up handing you a small jar of raspberry jam for free, wishing you the best of luck. Apparently word spreads fast in this place. After ten minutes of exploring the market, kind and overfamiliar strangers approach from behind their stands, greeting you and taking your hands. Some muse how similar you are to your grandfather while others happily send you some cheese and bread. By the time you’re at the end, it looks like you went grocery shopping. But in the midst of it all, you get the chance to talk to some customers. Making conversation with a pregnant woman, an elderly man, and a little kid overly excited to use his allowance for some candy. People are receptive and friendly, more than what you’re used to back in the city. But you study what they purchase, their spending habits, what people seem to be interested in. Then, your attention is caught at a cute honey stand — jars of honey sealed being sold with beeswax candles tied with pastel yellow ribbon. More importantly, you recognize the doe-eyed boy at the cash register. “Jungkook!” He greets you with a big smile. “Oh, hey, Y/N! I didn’t expect you’d be here.” With your previous lifestyle, the attention of a cute boy like Jungkook isn’t enough to make you bashful — a few years too late on that — but you can still appreciate how endearing he is. “I’m just taking a look around. Thought I should get to know the place since I might be here soon.” “How’re things going? Did you settle in yet?” “I did actually.” It wasn’t in the realm of your expectations to make friends so quickly out here, but to have such pleasant small talk with Jungkook proves your anticipations were wrong. “It took a lot of time to clean the house, but totally worth it! I strung polaroids above the mantle and I found a vintage armchair that’s really in style, so I’d say things are going pretty well.” The boy grins from your enthusiasm. “It sounds like you’re adapting better than I would.” “I’m trying.” Your smile becomes sheepish. “I’m still figuring out the fields and the land. I haven’t even gotten started in clearing out the shed yet.” He nods, lips parting to respond. But then there’s a call of his name behind him and he sighs before sending an apologetic expression. “Sorry. My ma has more honey to unload from the truck. I gotta skedaddle before she yells, but I’m glad things are working out for you!” Jungkook’s undoubtedly cute, even when he says goodbye and promises to catch up with you soon. You don’t dwell either, continuing to parade through the market by yourself and discover all the places you missed on your first walk that was overwhelmed with others intercepting. What piques your curiosity this time is a wooden stall with a soft green cloth draped over the flat surface and a sign that reads ‘Romaine with Me’. What’s offered in the crates are lettuce. Lots and lots of different heads of lettuce lined in rows like plush animal prizes on display at carnival games. You don’t pay much mind to the man behind the stall that’s sleepily blinking and leaning his head in his hand, elbow propped up and figure slumped over. He looks like he’s dozed off but somehow kept his lids peeled back. You approach and read the labels underneath. Red. Green. Romaine. Boston. Bibb. Arugula. Batavia. Radicchio. Iceberg. “I didn’t know there were so many types of lettuce,” you mutter to yourself. “It’s two dollars for each bundle or head,” the man suddenly pipes up in a raspy tone, nearly startling you to death. You realize his pupils have darted right on you and that’s he’s not in fact sleeping with his eyes open. “Romain is three. And there’s a sale on the radicchio.” The man has an oddly intimidating disposition for looking so tired. He has tender features and seemingly soft skin that makes you wonder about his skin care routine. Yet, his hair is as dark as his cat-like eyes that have narrowed in on you. You suddenly feel pressure to make a purchase lest you waste more of his time. “What are the differences?” you ask, studying the lettuces in front of you. “Iceberg, romaine and radicchio are crispy. But iceberg has a clean and fresh taste. Romaine is more bitter and radicchio is a bit bitter and spicy. Boston and bibb are butter lettuces which are softer and have a sweet taste. Boston's leaves are wider and lighter green than bibb's. Arugula is peppery. Batavia is your usual with more crinkled leaves. Red and green are your standard.” The man breathes the explanation out with only one lazy inhale in between and when he’s done, he gives you a look as if asking if you’re satisfied. But you’re more than that. You’re genuinely impressed. He spat facts at you and you’re not sure what to do with the information. “You know a lot about lettuce.” “I’m a lettuce farmer,” he deadpans. “Really?” The corners of your lips pull, even more intrigued than before. You didn’t take him for much of a farmer. The man has a kind of bad-boy vibe that you’re accustomed to and without much thought, the clumsy words stumble out of your mouth— “I thought farmers were dirtier.” “What?” “Like sunburnt, straw hats, overalls.” You nod, studying the produce and missing his offended expression. “Like that’s totally the farmer’s aesthetic.” “Aesthetic?” “Yeah,” you hum, not realizing the man was glaring holes into you. “I’ll take a bundle of the romaine, please.” You end up going home shortly after, trekking underneath the sun with recyclable bags full of food that fills your fridge, sure to be enough for a whole week. You’re not sure what to exactly do after that — there’s plenty of tasks and jobs to be done, but you’re not certain where to start. So you decide to take a break — partly to relax and partly to procrastinate. With your sweat wiped away and a fan whirring in the corner, you plop down into the vintage armchair and grab one of the magazines you brought with you. But it isn’t a good read, not when you had already looked at most of the pages on the plane ride over here…. Your mind ends up wandering, considering what you should do with grandfather’s land, if there was anything new you could offer at all. And at the same time as you’re flipping through the magazine, you stumble on a particular page. A recipe for an avocado kale poke bowl. You skim it and your eyes stop at a single word. Kale. Kale. It sticks to you like glue and you squint at the text, the four letters in print. Your mind searches and it hits you that kale was never sold at the farmers’ market. There was everything, every fruit, every vegetable. But not kale. A smile stretches across your face, determination blooming in your chest. Organic kale was a total new fad. Good for you. Healthy. Sought after in the city, but yet to be prevalent in the countryside. It was a perfect opportunity, one that was sitting right in front of you this entire time. Relief overwhelms you as you make a decision on your niche: kale. // It starts off with books. Gathering as much information as you possibly can, you also learn through guides and internet articles on your chosen crop. You find out that kale becomes bitter over the summer, sweetest in the Fall after being touched by a light frost. It bolts in Spring, so sowing seeds is most appropriate around April to May while they can still be planted throughout the seasons. It provides a yield between late September to early May, direct seeds maturing in fifty to seventy days while transplants take a bit less than half the time. You learn how to protect seedlings from pests, purchasing lightweight fabric to cover rows, and you begin to plow the fields. It takes time to clean up, to get your grandfather’s equipment fixed, to become financed. But you start right away and soon, you’re sewing the seeds eighteen to twenty four inches apart. Getting transplants. Watering them appropriately. Working day and night. You’re not exactly sure if you’re doing this right. Especially on hot days when you’re sweating buckets, dirt has marred your skin and your lower back screams. But you know that even if you fail and have to pack your bags, the effort of trying would be enough for you to feel satisfied. So, you persist. And day by day, the seeds begin to sprout. The dirt is littered with tiny green specks and you feel thrilled that it’s actually growing. Slowly, but surely, you would return this farm to its former glory by your own hands. // It’s another Sunday when you take a trip to the farmers’ market. In spite of having only been here for a short amount of time, you’ve become acquainted with the market. You don’t get lost anymore in the bustle and many like to stop you to ask about your day. It’s a hospitable place, never making you feel uncomfortable or awkward, and you feel relieved that your grandfather was surrounded by such warmth till the end of his life. You’re also starting to become familiar with one particular wooden stall and the sleepy man behind it. No matter what week it is, he’s always there, wearing the same loose flannels but in different colours, flipping through a pamphlet or dozing off. He only looks up when someone comes to buy lettuce. But today, he’s joined by an older man that recognizes you all too easily. “I almost didn’t see you there without being so gussied up in those city clothes. Looks like you’ve gotten yourself comfortable with farm life. Almost reminds me of Old Man Seok back in his heyday.” Immediately, the younger lifts his head up, brow cocked. “You know her?” “She’s Old Man Seok’s granddaughter. I gave her a ride to his farm when she first came,” Mr. Min introduces and his son gives you a better look, one that’s ridden with a modest amount of distaste. “Y/N, this is my boy, Yoongi, that I was talking about.” It never occured to you how similar they are. Their husky voices and quiet yet intimidating dispositions are unparalleled. But the older seems more open and friendly than the younger who has a blank expression and his eyes narrowed in at you. Although you don’t get much time to dwell, ask him that the issue might be or if that’s simply who he is. Some people naturally have a resting bitch face and Yoongi might be one of them. “How’s the countryside life doing for you so far?” his father asks and you smile, attention redirected. “It’s not too bad. But the sun’s hot and I didn’t know farming could be so hard!” Your head quirks to the side, still awed that this was the lifestyle of so many. “I always thought it would be easy cause the organic edamame plant back at my apartment wasn’t so bad to take care of.” Yoongi scoffs. “Yep, it’s difficult alright.” Mr. Min’s engrossed and asks, “What’re you growing?” Enthusiasm and a sense of pride makes you exclaim the answer— “Kale!” Yoongi winces at the volume of your voice while his father is made even more curious. “Kale?” “I was thinking about what wasn’t being sold at the farmers’ market and I found that kale was underrepresented,” you rant, “Kale’s totally the new wave. It’s a trendy, super food and packed with antioxidants. Did you know that kale is among the most nutrient-dense foods on the planet?” “Can’t say I knew that.” Mr. Min has his mouth upturned into an amused smile. Yoongi, on the other hand, sighs. “I’d love to hear more about it. My wife’s quite passionate about these kinds of things too. She practically runs the entire farm! You should come over for dinner sometime, Y/N.” “She should?” — “I’d love to!” Both you and Yoongi talk over another, but you don’t hear him. You’ve never been invited to this kind of thing before and your family rarely ate together. So, the aesthetic of sitting down for a countryside meal with a farming family, like it’s Thanksgiving, is a fantasy you’re eager to fulfill. // Unfortunately, dinner at the Min household has to be held off when your first harvest comes. Finally after a month of waiting, there’s actual kale out in the fields that are ready to be collected. The leaves are small, a little bitter and it’s not a large yield — but it isn’t bad for the first time. You’re happy enough that you’ve grown something, so you don’t nick pick for now. Instead, you focus on wrapping up the bundles, on preparing a stall, on organizing a spot at the market to sell. And when the days of busy work and high pressure accumulate into the first Sunday of the month, you’ve arranged crates of freshly washed, organic kale ready for purchase. It’s exciting. One week you’re walking around as a customer and the next, you’re on the other side of the stand as a vendor. You get to witness the behind the scenes of other farmers, the doors opening at nine sharp, the increasing bustle of the market. But for some reason, you only have a few people who stop by and only one who buys a bundle. “Don’t be worried,” Jungkook comforts, having stopped by once he noticed you. “People tend to buy what they’re used to, so just wait a while. You’ll eventually get your own set of customers!” You can only hope he’s right. By five in the evening, it’s over and you hold in your sigh. You wonder what you should do with the abundance of kale you have left, but you try not to linger as you close shop and the market shuts its doors. Everyone seems to disassemble their stalls with ease, carrying crates to their cars, collecting their earnings. Most are gone within ten minutes but you struggle, unable to keep up when it’s all too new to you and before you know it, you’re the last one left in the space that’s still cleaning up after yourself. The only person you catch is Yoongi who’s walking off, passing you with a crate of two lettuce heads, having already sold most of it. You notice he’s in one of his open flannels again, this time it’s yellow and gray, and you send a friendly smile. But he doesn’t say anything or make a change from his indifferent expression. But then he stops. Five meters away. “You should stop treating this like a joke,” Yoongi deadpans, swiveling around on his heel. You freeze, halfway from grabbing the mason tip jar that you decorated with washi tape the night before. You blink, not sure if Min Yoongi is actually and willingly uttering words to you or if it’s your imagination. “What?” But it isn’t. He is very much talking to you. “The market isn’t here for someone like you to play games.” Now, you’re just confused. “But…...I’m not playing games...?” “It’s obvious you’re not serious about this.” You scoff. You’ve had your fair share of running into mean girls in the fashion industry and in High School, the ones who are snarky and make passive aggressive insults that are disguised as compliments. You just never expected to run into something like that here. And in such a straightforward way too. Usually people are more subtle when they show that they don’t like you. “You can’t accuse me. You don’t know anything about me!” Yoongi stares at you boredly. “You’re making a mockery out of people’s livelihood.” “I’m trying to learn.” You cross your arms, standing your ground. You suppose from his perspective it might be off-putting that you’ve come from nowhere and you’re trying your hand at the farm life. But you swear you haven’t been condescending nor have you ever looked down on anyone. At least you hope it hasn’t come across that way. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but if it seems like I’ve been mocking you then I’m sorry.” This isn’t just a hobby to you nor is it a spectacle for your amusement. You’re serious. Even if you might come across as ditzy, insincere and inexperienced. “But you don’t need to go out of your way to insult me. I already know I was stupid for coming here. Why do you think I came alone? This is a whole new world for me and I’m trying, so I’d appreciate some empathy.” Yoongi stares at you. You stare at him. The two of you have your eyes locked in one another’s, and you want to throw hands, but then he suddenly walks away as if he didn’t hear a word you said. You glare at his backside, huffing out in frustration. As if your day wasn’t bad enough, he had to make it worse. // “Stop being ridiculous, Y/N!” Your mom’s voice is jarring on the other end of the line. It’s grating to your ears. There’s a strong urge to hang up, but you’re not sure if she’ll call again. You’re surprised she called you in the first place — the likelihood of a second time is slim. “I’m actually doing well, thank you very much.” She ignores you. “Sell the land and come home. Do you really think you can do this?!” Tears sting your eyes against your will. You inhale to keep your voice even and steady. “I do actually. I’m learning while I’m out here and it’s not as hard as I thought it would be.” “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. You had a high paying job. An apartment. Clean water to drink. Lots of food to eat. You were comfortable! And you gave it all up, why?!” “The air’s fresher here,” you quip much to your mom’s chagrin and frustration. “I’m a grown woman, mom. I can make my own decisions.” “Until you make others pick up after you!” You wince, hand tightening on your duvet. You try your best not to cry. She doesn’t need to know that you’re running out of money, that your kitchen is filled with leafy greens you couldn’t sell, that your back aches from working out on the fields. “Don’t come running to me when you finally get bored or you’re halfway to starving to death.” You know they think sooner or later, you’ll show up back home with your packed bag. But you refuse to give in. You’ll prove your friends and family wrong — you’ll follow through with this. If there was one thing you were good at, it was being stupid. Being stupid made you at the bottom of the class, it made you have friends who used you, it made you struggle. And it made you resilient. It made you know what working hard to get to where you want meant. It made you determined. And you’re gonna fucking give it your best! Even if the smarter route would be to give up! So with your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, you brace yourself and enter your kitchen full of kale. If you can’t sell it raw, then there are other things that you can try. // “Get your kale kombucha! Your kale smoothie! Full of vitamins and nutrients!” You’re holding a tray of paper cup samples, voice loud with a wide smile. A woman who’s looking at your stand curiously passes by and you steal the chance, smoothly intercepting her way. “Would you like to try one, ma’am?” “Sure.” She takes a sample and once she sips, her eyes light up and her expression becomes inquisitive. The woman approaches your stand, looking over the products you have. “It’s really delicious. How much is it for a smoothie?” “The three sizes are here.” You gesture to the display and she hums. “Two dollars for a small, two fifty for a medium and three for a large. We also have salted kale chips, kale guacamole and kale pesto.” “Is this all homemade?” “It is!” Your enormous smile is proud. “I grew the kale organically and made these with fresh ingredients.” “I’ll take a large smoothie, this guacamole and a bundle of just regular kale then.” “Coming right up!” You’re no stranger to the art of advertising — it’s one of your strengths with your marketing background. You’re pretty sure the chalkboard signs are doing a good job of directing attention to your stall and the samples are certainly going a long way too. “Can I try one, miss?” A little kid tugs on your green apron and you lower yourself down to their eye-level, happily handing them two. “Of course you can!” Sunday after Sunday, you do better and better. Of course, it’s not without constant trial and error, honing in recipes and packaging, learning how to keep products as fresh as possible. But the improvements make the labour all worth it. You notice how Yoongi watches you across the floor and when you smile, he immediately looks away. But there's little time to pay attention to him when the lineup at your stall gradually becomes longer and longer. Jungkook helps you out when he can, whether that’s manning the register beside you or handing out samples to draw in curious customers. “You’re gonna run me out of business soon, Y/N.” Jungkook says in the midst of a slow down when you’re finally able to catch your breaths. “Please,” you giggle. “I’m sure you’re the one drawing in the business. Weren’t those last two customers trying to get your number for the past ten minutes? Last time they kept on asking me about you too.” The boy laughs shyly and it’s all too endearing. “They’re just bein’ nice. If anything, you’re the one drawing in the customers since you’re so pretty and all.” More giggles bubble out of your throat and you lean closer to him. “So you think I’m pretty?” Jungkook realizes what he said and his face reddens. He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. “I mean...isn’t that a fact?” “You’re too sweet, Kook,” you sigh wistfully. “Thank you for helping me.” “Anytime, really.” Jungkook’s smiles softly and his lips part, but before he can say anything, his peripheral vision finally catches the weight of a third party’s stare. His eyes travel across the market floor to the wooden stall of lettuce — right on the man behind it who’s rolling his eyes. You follow his line of sight and a knowing smile appears on your features. “Jungkook, can you hand me the sample tray?” You might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re not that big of an idiot. For the past two weeks, you’ve noticed how Yoongi keeps staring at you. You don’t suspect it to be sudden infatuation either. Most likely, it’s surprise that you’ve proven him wrong or reluctant admission that you’re on your way to success, or perhaps passive aggression too. Whatever the case is, you approach him and witness him visibly stiffen as you come closer. Your smile remains bright when you ask, “Is everything okay, Yoongi?” “I’m fine,” the man deadpans. “You should move. You’re blocking my customers.” “You have no customers.” “I would if you weren’t standing there.” You scoff. “You are not cute.” Yoongi’s brow lifts, amused at your comment. “Excuse me?” “I want to make peace,” you outright declare, having no shame with confronting him. “I’ve had my fair share of drama back home and I’m not looking forward to picking fights here, so I forgive you.” Yoongi snorts as you raise your sample tray as a peace offering. “I know you’re curious, so you try one. My kale kombucha is my most popular item. It’s a fermented tea that has lots of healthy yeast and bacteria.” “No.” The dark-haired man rejects without needing to blink. “Kale is disgusting. There’s a reason no one sells it here.” You’re shocked, not knowing where to start. But there’s no point in arguing with him and spewing nutrition facts. Your pride is much too high to insist too, so you merely lift your chin. “Fine. Suit yourself. But one of these days, you’re going to fall in love with kale, Min Yoongi.” It’s a challenge — but a one-sided one. Yoongi simply sighs as you strut away, feeling more tired than he did before. // The engines of the moving truck rumbles and coughs as it rolls down the dirt road. It’s drawn the attention of several, including his dad and mom. They’re peering out the front window, curtains tugged with their noses pressed to the glass. Usually, Yoongi doesn’t care much for what the neighbours are up to or keeping up with community gossip, but for some reason, his curiosity is piqued enough that he glances out as well. “What’s going on?” “There are trucks coming back and forth from Old Man Seok’s land.” Yoongi wonders if you’ve given up and you’re moving out. He wouldn’t be surprised. But suddenly, before he can walk off and mind his own business, his mother whirls around. “Yoonie, go check up on our new neighbour.” He exhales exhaustingly. “Why?” “Well, you’re friends, aren’t you?” “We’re not.” It’s a firm fact, but his mother doesn’t hear him. She’s already moving into the kitchen and making him follow her. He knows arguing is futile — once she’s set on her mind on something, no one can change it. “Go on and deliver some cheese too.” She hands him a paper bag. “We haven’t welcomed her properly yet and it’s customary to at least give a greeting and gift.” Yoongi begrudgingly obliges and minutes later, he finds himself making the trek across the acres to the cottage that always reminded him of Christmas with its cherry red roof and forest green walls. The polluting trucks drive away in the meanwhile, wheels turning against the gravel fading, and the countryside returns to its quaint atmosphere. As he comes closer, Yoongi notices the wooden spools on your lawn and some barber chairs littered around, akin to a dumpster yard, but he avoids them and walks up the porch, knocking twice on the door. He can imagine thrusting the bag in your hand, muttering a greeting and question or two before getting back to the farm. Yet, what he doesn’t anticipate is silence and then noises farther away. The man sighs and decides to follow the sounds lest he spends the rest of the afternoon waiting at your front door. He rounds the house to the backyard. “What are you doing?” Yoongi discovers mason jars, picnic blankets, wooden crates sprawled all over on the grass — things he guesses the trucks brought over — and he finds you on a ladder with fairy lights tangled around your limbs. You jolt. In horror, Yoongi watches the ladder dangerously wobble back and forth, but luckily, it steadies and you twist yourself around. “Holy shit! You almost scared me half to death!” “What are you doing?” he repeats, more urgently and concerned than before. “I’m setting up fairy lights obviously.” Your smile is big, cheeks swelling with it. “I’m gonna decorate part of the land with hipster furniture and channel the farm aesthetic. It’s going to become an Insta spot. Hashtag kale-in-farm.” Yoongi doesn’t understand half of what you just said and he’s not sure if he should even ask. “What’s a hashtag?” “You don’t know what a hashtag is?” Your eyes are perfectly rounded, looking at him like he’s an alien and he chuckles. The irony isn’t lost on him. He isn’t the weird one — you are. “Should I know what it is?” You don’t answer, merely climbing off the ladder and his breath hitches at how you don’t watch your step. Yoongi doesn’t get stressed easily, but he swears he’s going to get a heart attack looking at you. You pull out your phone suddenly from your back pocket and after some tapping, you thrust the screen in his face. “This is Instagram, see? It’s an app where you can follow people and see the pictures that they post. An Insta spot is a place where you can take good Instagram pictures. Hashtags is a way to label the posts, so others can see and search it up. Or at least that’s what I think it is. It’s kind of hard to explain, it’s one of those things that just catches on and you get after using it. This is my page, see?” You’ve given your phone to him and Yoongi eyes your bikini photos before handing it back. “Uh-huh.” “I can’t believe you don’t have an Instagram. You should make one and add me!” “No thanks.” You huff, pouting at him and Yoongi’s mouth twitches as he resists the small smile. There’s something in the way you react to him being mean to you that makes it all too entertaining. “My mom wanted to give you some cheese.” He hands the paper bag over and you excitedly peer inside. “It’s just goat cheese. Usually she makes a cherry pie as a housewarming gift, but today….was a bit last minute.” Yet in spite of the measly present, Yoongi’s taken aback at how happy you seem. “This is so sweet! Tell your mom I said thank you! I should probably give her some kale—” He lifts his palm, stopping you in the middle of your sentence. “There’s no need.” “Well, tell her I said thank you.” You put it down on the wooden patio steps and move towards the ladder. Then something by his foot catches your eye. “Oh, can you do me a favour and put that typewriter on the wooden crate?” Yoongi doesn’t know why you have a broken typewriter, but he follows your instructions. His eyes travel to several worn bikes you have leaning against the railing. It’s strange considering you don’t seem like the type to bike. As if reading his mind, you laugh. “They don’t work. It’s just for the aesthetics.” “Uh-huh.” He turns back, about to bid goodbye and leave this mess behind him. But as he turns away, he witnesses you step on the highest prong of the ladder. The part you’re not allowed to step on. With the danger warning signs plastered on it that says ‘STOP’ in big, red letters. Yoongi’s breath hitches and he lurches over, grabbing the ladder to steady it as it wobbles. “Woah!” You regain your balance and turn to grin at him. “Thanks for that. You saved my life!” “Get off.” “What?” “Get off the ladder before you die.” His stern command has you obeying and you come down to the ground again. Yoongi sighs and takes the lights from you. “I’ll do it. Tell me where you want them and hold the bottom rung for me.” You’re bewildered, but you don’t reject his offer of help. Yoongi follows your instructions too, working quickly and more efficiently than when you were, and you can’t help but giggle as you watch him string the fairy lights. He glares at you. “What?” You look up at him, beaming a grin. “For being such a mean, old grump, you’re actually pretty reliable and considerate, Yoongi.” He diverts his vision elsewhere. “Whatever.” But it’s all too true. In many ways, Yoongi reminds you of peppermint candy. Hard on the outside but with just a bit of melting, all too sweet and sugary on the inside. // It starts off with you. A post, a cute caption, the hashtag. You manage to get Jungkook to follow suit and then it’s a group. A person who shows up with their friends, stopping by to enjoy your kale farm and haphazardly filming their adventure to put onto their social media. Then it’s three or four, more and more of the hashtag being used, of pictures being taken, of others catching wind of the trendy new place to take photos, of fresh kale being harvested and kale kombucha being sold. It’s an exponential growth and before you know it, there’s a bustle at your farm. Strangers that park in the designated area, families enjoying the picnic spots, young adults posing for photographs underneath the strung fairy lights after dark. Your kale chips and smoothie sales skyrocket and after constructing a website, you know you’ve made a name for yourself. You hire Jimin, Jungkook’s cousin, to help you out. Recently turned eighteen, he’s gentle and luckily attentive. He excels in customer service and in between selling your products and doing measly tasks to upkeep the farm, you know you’ve finally found a sustainable income aside from the farmers’ market alone. “This ‘s what I call innovation,” Yoongi’s dad muses as the two of them stand near the tractor, looking over the field to the figures prancing on your land and listening to the laughter that leaks over. “It ain’t often a smart woman suddenly shows,” he says, glancing at him. “You should take advantage of it.” “It’s not smart.” Yoongi turns away. “It’s dumb luck. There’s nothing impressive about it.” His dad sighs at him, but as they retreat home, Yoongi can’t help glancing over his shoulder. // Yoongi has accepted that you’re a complete wild card — when he thought you were making a spectacle of this rural life for your own amusement, you make a whole declaration about how serious you are. When he expects you to move out, you instead bring bits and bobs to your farm. When he expects you to completely and utterly fail, you thrive. Yoongi always thought that he was the enigma — hard to understand, hard to get to know, one of the many reasons he isn’t particularly close to anyone. But in reality, you are. At surface level, it looks like you’re simple-minded, overly enthused, optimistic. Yet you continuously defy his expectations. And he has to applaud you for it. But of all things, Yoongi most certainly did not expect to see you on his porch one afternoon. “I got invited by your mom for dinner,” you explain with another infamously bright smile and your arm lifts with a bag. “I brought kale!” “You did.” He holds in his sigh. “I don’t know how you want to eat it, so it’s raw….unless…..do you not have electricity? I can go back to prepare it.” “What?” “You know, electricity.” When he stares at you, you begin explaining to be helpful. “The stuff that gives you light and power and you can turn on the stove—” “I know what electricity is!” Yoongi shouts. He’s almost always calm, but you have a talent for being condescending without even realizing. “What’s with all the noise?” His mom emerges and her face immediately lights up, lips forming into a warm smile. She wipes her hands on her apron and comes to embrace you. “Y/N! I thought I heard your voice! Come in, come in! Oh my word, what’s this? Kale? Thank you! Was the walk here long?” “Not at all.” You smile, being ushered in the kitchen. It still amazes you how much Yoongi looks like his mom. They both have tender, soft features. Albeit, the male took on his father’s personality and characteristics, his physical appearance compared to his mom is nearly a carbon copy. “It’s only a few acres away. I love your home, by the way. It has a good energy to it.” Yoongi wonders when you got so comfortable with his parents. “I’m preparing dinner right now. Should be done fairly soon, but Yoonie! Why don’t you show dear Y/N around the farm?” Yoongi knows he doesn’t have a choice and you hold in your giggle at his dejected expression. It’s not often you can witness him being obedient and when he takes you through his backyard, you can’t help poking fun at him. “Yoonie?” “It’s a childhood nickname,” he grumbles. There’s an urge to squish his cheeks together. They’ve always reminded you of jello or bread loafs, but for the sake of not being slapped, you control the desire. The Min property is vast. Chicken coops and several sheds are close to the house, but in the distance, cows and goats graze in the open pastures. The lush fields seem to stretch to the horizon, only broken up by the occasional tree left to grow in peace. It’s a tranquil landscape and there’s an urge to sit back in a rocking chair and knit. Even though you don’t know how to knit. “How big is the farm?” “It’s a hundred acres.” Yoongi says it like it’s nothing impressive, but it’s still fifty times the size of your own farm. “Is that all lettuce?” You look over the plowed fields filled with green. “Some of it is asparagus and carrots, but it’s mostly different kinds of lettuce,” he explains, “We don’t sell all of it at the market. We got a few contracts from grocery stores and those get shipped out, so we’re always busy year round.” You’re amazed. His family manages to do a lot more than you and you already feel swamped half the time. But you suppose you still have a long way to go before you can call yourself a real farmer. The pair of you approach the fence and you watch the goats chewing on their grass, bleating at you. You grin and mimic their noises, oblivious to the way Yoongi steals a glance at you. “What do you do with all the animals?” you ask. “They’re for personal usage. We eat chicken eggs and my mom makes cheese a lot.” Yoongi diverts his vision at your intense stare and clears his throat. He didn’t know all of this was so interesting to you. “Have you ever milked a cow before?” “No!” “Do you want to learn how?” “Yes!” This time, Yoongi can’t hold back his chuckle at your childlike enthusiasm. He leads a smaller cow into the stall, introducing her as August, and you help him brush her down. Yoongi shows you how to wash August with warm, soapy water, how to clean her utters and let the milk down by relaxing her. He demonstrates as well, clamping the top of the utter between his thumb and first finger before squeezing. You follow his instructions, mimic his movements and milk squirts into the silver pale successfully. “It feels kind of weird.” The corner of his thin lips pull. “Is it supposed to feel nice?” When your hands get tired, Yoongi leans over to help you out, explaining how often someone can milk cows for, where August came from and how long she’s been around. You never expected how awfully endearing it would be to listen to a farm boy talk about his precious cow, but it is. Or maybe that’s just Yoongi being Yoongi. Everything that comes out of his mouth is interesting to you. “—months ago and…..are you even listening?” “Of course I am!” You totally weren’t and he doesn’t seem to believe your assertion either, so to divert his attention, you turn the direction of the utter and squeeze. The line of milk squirts directly at Yoongi’s kneecap, dampening his jeans and you laugh at his scandalized expression. “What the fuc—!” “Stop! Stop!” You stand, giggling incessantly while blocking your arms up when Yoongi lunges down and squeezes two utters at you. The milk is warm and sticky against your skin. “I’m sorry!” “Too late!” His cheeks are swollen with a gummy smile, happily taking his revenge. Before any of you have realized, the sun has gone down and there’s a lingering scent of milk on your clothes. But no one other than you and Yoongi notices or at least his parents don’t say anything. “How are things going, dear?” his mom asks you with a satisfied smile as she watches you devour her dessert apple pie. Dinner at the Min’s was all too cozy and welcoming. Food had filled the rounded table and the family, albeit only three members in total, had gathered together. For the past few months, you’ve been eating by yourself with a magazine by your side or in front of the old television with some obscure show on. You missed having conversations over delicious meals and part of you wonders how you’ll return to your regular routine after tonight. After a taste of the forbidden fruit, you’ll wish every night was like this. “Better than expected actually. It’s a learning process, so it goes up and down, but everyone’s been so helpful to me that it hasn’t been bad.” Yoongi’s father nods solemnly. “All on your own too.” You become shy under their praise. “It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to preserve the memory of my grandfather and all I have is his land, so....” Sometimes you lay awake thinking about how much your life has changed. A year ago, you were still in LA in a high rise apartment working, and in an effort to connect with your family roots again, you left it all behind. But you don’t regret your decision whatsoever. From the moment you came here, no matter what challenges you faced, it all became worth it in the end. It’s a hard life, but a peaceful one. A simple and serene way of living that you always needed. “Bless your heart,” his mother swoons and you realize Yoongi’s gazing at you too — with an odd sense of gentleness that you aren’t used to. Or maybe that’s merely the dim lighting of the small dining room. “You are the hardest working, gosh darn smartest young lady I have ever met.” You look away from Yoongi, face warming at the compliments. “No, I just try my hardest.” “And try hard you do!” His mom leans across the table, eyes bright. “Don’t you think so, Yoonie? Isn’t Y/N marvelous?” You turn to him expectedly, but Yoongi’s eyes are suddenly down at his empty plate. “Well, there’s nothing else to do out here but work, so isn’t that the default?” You scoff and it takes his attention. “You aren’t cute at all.” The corner of his mouth tugs. “Excuse me?” “Don’t pay any attention to him, Y/N.” His mom bats at your arm. “He’s too much like his dad.” “You mean, he took after my best traits?” The older man at the table has his brow cocked and you smile at the banter, but the woman beside you doesn’t entertain it. “He took after your temper and grumbling.” “Which is why no one ever bullied him.” Yoongi’s father slaps him on his back and he sighs. His mom turns her head to continue, “Never mind them. I swear, Yoonie used to be the cutest kid in the whole country. I don’t know when he changed. Do you want to see his baby pictures?” Your spine straightens and your eyes widen. “I would love to—” Suddenly, there’s the ear-piercing noise of the chair leg scraping against the wooden floorboards. Yoongi has stood up and tosses his napkin down. “It’s getting pretty late. Probably time to go home, right?” You laugh, but oblige only because it gives you reason to come over again. Yoongi’s mother at least assures as much, promising that next time you’ll be able to see all the albums and photographs of that time he cried while being chased by a goose — something you’re looking forward to, much to Yoongi’s dismay. He’s just too much fun to tease. The more and more you get to know Yoongi and the people in his life, the better you’re coming to realize that he’s not that much of a grump at all. It’s a facade, really. A thin curtain that hides how soft and pouty he actually is. Less like the bad boy you initially thought. More like a farm sheep. “You didn’t need to walk me home, you know.” You turn to him, glancing at his profile. “It’s only a few acres away.” “Yeah, but then I would never hear the end of it from my mom. It’s dark out anyway and it’s not like I mind.” You nod and the pair of you fall into a comfortable lull. There’s a lot from tonight that you have to think about and it’s not just about Yoongi and his family. After seeing how they run their farm and how much they’ve expanded, you wonder if you’ll ever get to that size too. “What do you think if I started growing quinoa and soy?” He gives you an incredulous look, still visible in spite of the darkness, and it makes you laugh. “What would you do with quinoa and soy?” “I don’t know. Make different smoothies or flavours of kombucha? I would have to look into it. But it’s just a thought for no—” The pitch of your voice raises as you lose your footing, about to plunge. But then Yoongi yanks your arm back, steadying you before you trip in the ditch. “Oh my god! I almost died!” “Watch where you’re going, woman,” he scolds and his hand boldly wraps around yours, palms clasping together firmly. You glance down, foreign to the feeling of his affection and Yoongi notices. He looks straight ahead, but quickly explains, “If you die and haunt the farm, that’ll bring down the value of the land nearby.” You scoff. “You’re lucky you have a cute face, Min Yoongi.” His lips curl. “I thought you said I wasn’t cute.” “Your personality isn’t, but your face is alright.” If anything, you’re downplaying it, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Out here, you’re a good eight, but where I’m from, maybe you’re a six and a half.” His laugh is mellifluous, and it infects a smile on your own features. “What about you?” You look down to where you’re joined at the hands and muse how much larger his palm and fingers are to you, how his skin is calloused from working the fields, how warm and secure it feels. “Clearly, I’m a ten wherever I go,” you quip. “Can’t you see?” Yoongi apologizes, “I’m sorry, I might be blind then ‘cause I can’t see you as attractive at all.” Another scoff tears from you, a lighthearted one that makes his grin widen. “You know what? I take it back. You aren’t cute at all. Not even your face can make up for your sour personality.” Yoongi chuckles, squeezing your hand, and it’s awfully unfair how your face heats more. // Despite how busy you get managing the Insta spot, planting and harvesting kale, and cooking and packaging products, you never fail to find time to be at the market every Sunday. While your other sources of income are slowly increasing more than what you get from the farmers’ market, the atmosphere and sense of community is enough for you to scrape up time out of your week to set up your stall. And it’s often the time that you get to have your conversations with Jungkook too. “So….did you try it out?” Your eyes glisten, locked into his. “What did you think? Did it work?” The boy scratches the back of his neck. “I...don’t think kale shampoo is it, Y/N.” You deflate, keeping your sulking to a minimum. It didn’t work for you either, but you were trying to see if it was just your hair that was the strange one. “Really? But it looks soft.” You reach over and plant your hand in his black bed of hair. To your surprise, it’s even silkier than it appears. “Woah! It’s soft!” Jungkook ducks his head, colour blooming on his cheeks. He doesn’t bat your hand away nor does he lean into your touch when you pet him incessantly. “It isn’t that soft…” “What shampoo and conditioner do you usually use? It feels so nice, Kook.” The both of you are oblivious to the flannel-wearing man from across the market who’s glaring above the heads of lettuce. He bores his gaze into you, wondering what the hell you’re doing in the middle of the farmers’ market and putting on a show for all the older ladies to watch. Don’t you know how gossip and rumours start at this place? Merely chatting is enough to grab attention, but to be outright flirting like this was downright reckless. His jaw ticks, nostrils flaring. He’s uncomfortable. It isn’t any of his business, but Yoongi feels an urge to do something. It’s utterly irrational. Completely out of the norm of his usual behaviour. But somehow, he finds himself abandoning his stall and crossing the floor. “What the hell are you two doing?” “Yoongi!” You turn, greeting him with a big smile and suddenly that irrational emotion is replaced with something else that sits at his chest. To have your attention, he feels…..satisfied. Even if it’s childish. “I was just talking about the kale shampoo I made, but I think it’s an idea I’m going to have to scrap.” “Shampoo?” “It left a sticky mess on my head and took me ten minutes to wash it off,” Jungkook tells and his smile softens at your sigh. “Sorry, Y/N.” “Maybe kale conditioner would work better....” At the same time, Jungkook’s name is called by his grandma nearby, so he bids goodbye and a see you later to the both of you. It’s a slow down period right after lunch, so there’s fewer people around and with Yoongi here, you take the opportunity. “Can you watch my stall for me?” “What?” “I need to go to the bathroom.” You clasp your hands together and bat your lashes, trying to appeal to him. “Pretty please, Yoongi? I would really, really appreciate it.” He exhales and waves his hand boredly, not sparing you a glance. But you already know he’s relinquished before he says it. “Fine.” You jump up with a smile. “Thanks! You’re the best!” In the next three seconds, you’ve jogged away and Yoongi’s left standing at the market, watching your stall and his stall from across the floor that he abandoned. He wonders how he got into this predicament, but doesn’t dwell when his eyes stray to your bottles of fancy kombucha on display. He picks up a bottle, curious as to how you made these fancy labels, and he snorts when he notices in tiny text it says, ‘don’t kale me’. You’re such a dork, it’s impossible to believe. Then again, his mom decided to make a pun for the lettuce stall too, so he’s not one to talk. For a moment, Yoongi ponders what the hell this kale kombucha tastes like. He got a chance to try it before when you waltz up to him all those weeks ago with a tray of samples, but he denied you out of pride and stubbornness. He knows it must taste somewhat decent if you’re making all those sales. He’s seen people drinking it as they walk around too, but he’ll be damned if he actually went up to you and bought one. He’s sure you’d throw a celebration and do the whole ‘I told you so’ dance if it was actually delicious. Relinquishing, he places the bottle back on the display. But then the awful happens. Time slows — there’s a noise and the entire dainty shelf is collapsing. Yoongi is helpless to the way the bottles collide against the ground deafeningly, how the dark green liquid splatters on the concrete, to the way the glass shards spray. He cusses and manages to catch one bottle before turning around. There are people staring at him — customers alarmed and vendors sympathizing. But more importantly, you’re standing meters away, returned from the bathroom. He catches your shock, your confusion, and then the heartbreak — even if it only lasts for a blink before you’re smiling again. You come over, looking down at the mess. “I didn’t know you hated me this much to sabotage my stuff like this,” you quip jokingly. But there’s no banter or excuses being made. There’s silence. And you lift your eyes to meet Yoongi’s, realizing how mortified he is. “Hey, it’s alright. I knew the shelf had a few loose screws, but I didn’t know it would fall like that. I should’ve fixed it sooner.” “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” “You don’t really need to do th……” “I’ll make it up to you,” Yoongi states more firmly than before, eyes darkened and you swallow hard. He knows you’re trying to cover up how hurt you are, how you’re trying to save face and not only is he embarrassed, he’s guilty. “You were supposed to sell all this, weren’t you?” You give in and Yoongi grabs a broom, aiding you in cleaning up the mess. You’ve never seen him so serious and solemn before, but it makes you glad that he’s the one here to help. // At six in the morning, you wake up and less than ten minutes later, you hear the wheezing engine of a truck out front. The sun was barely on the horizon, but when you walk out to the porch, you discover Yoongi shutting the door of his vehicle and coming up to you. He’s dressed in an oversized purple and black plaid flannel and gray shirt underneath, black hair flopping to the side, features softer than usual. He’s yawning and rubbing his eyes, all too endearing that you have to admit it. “Mornin’,” you greet with a grin and he merely grunts, gesturing inside your house. A laugh draws out of you and you open the door for him. “You didn’t need to do this, you know. I told you I was totally fine.” “Just accept my help, lady,” he sighs and looks around your living space, glancing at the polaroids strung above the brick mantle, the recycled jar of flowers on the kitchen counter, and the couch cushions made from flour sacks you reused. You grow warm under his scrutiny, realizing that no one has ever entered your home before. But while you expect to get criticism, Yoongi instead says, “I like what you did with the place. It’s cozy.” You smile, still a bit self-conscious. “Thanks. Do you want tea? Coffee? Kale juice?” “I’m fine.” He follows after you, stepping into the kitchen. The space is crowded or maybe it’s just you feeling small with him so close. “I’m here to help. What do you usually do at this time?” “Well, I usually start by harvesting whatever kale I can. The weather seems good today too and there are some fields that need to be plowed, so I should do that and then plant some seeds…” “Okay.” He’s already tugging his sleeves up. “Let’s get to it.” It’s unusual to have someone join you during your morning chores, but it isn’t unwarranted. Granted, you have to teach him a little on the way you do things, but he already knows a lot from working on his own farm and you find Yoongi is a great listener. He might have a blank expression and be exceptionally quiet, but his occasional questions are insightful and he’s attentive when he mimics you. It’s peaceful — the sun not yet sweltering in the sky or giving an unbearable heat that makes it hard to work, the animals in the far distance not awoken, the breeze curling through your hair. When you look up from your spot, you see Yoongi working as hard as you are and it tickles the corners of your lips into a subtle smile. Things finish twice as fast and then you’re taking a break, making breakfast for Yoongi. His company is nice at the table, even when he complains that your sunny side up eggs are too overcooked and you threaten to throw him out. It’s a kind of banter that doesn’t so much irritate you — rather, it keeps you on your toes, making you giggle at witty remarks while he rolls his eyes. After breakfast, Yoongi insists on washing the dishes and succeeds when he whines and feigns annoyance on how you don’t trust him to clean your plates. He ends up fixing a light fixture in your kitchen too after you mention that it sometimes flickers off and startles you. He’s helpful and handy, more than you thought he would be, but you try not to get used to it. “This is where you keep your kombucha?” he asks as you show off the pantry that you’ve practically changed into a cellar. “Yep.” You tap one of the large jars on the shelf. “It takes five to seven days for it to ferment after I make it. Then, I have to add in the kale and let it ferment for another three days. These babies will be ready for tomorrow. But I have to make a new batch today.” “That’s a lot of work,” he comments. “Oh. You haven’t seen it yet.” You brush past him, smirking. Yoongi looks all too cute in the pink apron. It’s a comical sight and albeit, isn’t actually a part of your usual routine to wear one, you made it up on the fly just to see him wear it and he’s too cute. “What?” His head whips up, brow cocked at the way you’re grinning. “Nothing. Hand me that bowl.” It’s a bit of an irony that Yoongi hasn’t tried any of your kombucha, but is first to learn the recipe from you. You show him how to brew the gallon of black tea, how to add the cup of sugar in and allow it to cool before pouring it into the jar. “What’s that?” he asks when you’re sticking a rubbery flab into the jar. “It’s a scoby. It has a bunch of yeast and bacteria that helps with fermentation. It’s made from kombucha, sugar, black tea.” You seal off the jar and Yoongi goes quiet. You look up at him, discovering a thoughtful expression on his face as if he’s impressed you know what you’re doing. “I’m not completely stupid, you know. I know I come across as—” “I never thought you were dumb,” Yoongi suddenly states without missing a single beat. Your eyes become rounded and the corner of his mouth pulls. “Maybe insensitive and ignorant, but not stupid per se.” “Hey!” “There’s a difference,” Yoongi laughs and insists, “Being ignorant means you just haven’t learnt yet, but being stupid means you can’t learn at all.” He ducks when you half-heartedly swing and more chuckles fill the home, including your own. But Yoongi’s right. You had no clue what you were getting yourself into when you first arrived. Everything’s been a learning process, but it finally feels like things are falling into place. Yoongi helps you wash the kale out back and stays by your side, peering over your shoulder, as you make the kale chips, guacamole and pesto. He stirs and gets ingredients when he can, and you find he has quite a knack for packaging things neatly. He’s somehow careful yet efficient. “I didn’t know you did so much.” “Yeah.” You wipe your sweat with the back of your hand. “I try to space everything out, but sometimes everything falls on the same day and I’ve been running low on products, so I can’t put it off.” He hums, sealing the jar of pesto shut and then working on smoothing the label on the surface. It’s mid-afternoon already. You didn’t realize how quickly time was going. The golden sun is already coming through the windows of the kitchen as you and Yoongi work across from one another, falling into a lull. You turned the staticky radio on, but it often acts as background noise when either of you start another conversation. You giggle and he tilts his head up at the noise. “What? Did I put the label on upside down again?” “No.” You shake your head, smiling to yourself. “It just kind of feels like we’re a married couple, that’s all.” Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi freezes. But then he eases, the corner of his own mouth tugging. “You’re not trying to seduce me, are you?” “Seduce you?!” You scoff, looking up to see him focused on tying the ribbon around the jar. “I have higher standards than that, Min Yoongi.” “Says the one who’s been flirting with me all morning.” “I’m not flirting with you.” “Uh-huh. Don’t tempt me with the suggestion of marriage then. I might actually do it.” You’re baffled, made speechless with how he twists his words and how sweet he can talk. Your face heats and you know that if you open your mouth, you’ll blubber and make a fool out of yourself. So you opt for a huff and silence which only spurs on his chuckles and inadvertently makes you sulk harder. If anything Yoongi was the flirt. But you’re not about to declare it in case he asks if that means you’re affected by it. Because you are. The rest of the afternoon is spent finishing on packaging and storing away the products to sell tomorrow when the Insta spot opens and the following day at the farmers’ market. But as you dust off your hands, you feel the gurgle of your empty stomach and you offer to make him an early dinner. “Is there anything you want to eat? My cooking skills aren’t that great—” “Clearly.” You glare at him. “—but I can look up any recipe you want.” Yoongi makes a disgruntled noise and he leans over to open your fridge. You peep over his shoulder and at once, blood drains from your face. “There’s nothing in your fridge, Y/N.” He turns around with puzzlement on his visage. “How did you make breakfast this morning?” “I….used the last of my eggs to make breakfast. I didn’t think you would actually stick around long enough for dinner.” “And what would you have eaten tonight if I did leave?” With one foot keeping the fridge open, he starts taking out several things like a maid cleaning out your kitchen. “The strawberries have gone bad...and there’s….mold on the bread. How do you live?” “My budget was a bit low for this week and I underestimated how much groceries I would need.” When he pulls out the drawer with bundled kale, you stop him. “That’s for me to sell.” “You don’t eat what you grow?” “Not really,” you admit. “I don’t actually eat much kale….I brought lots of instant noodles from the city, but I ran out two weeks ago….” He shuts the fridge. “I’ll talk to my mom and bring more eggs and milk to you more often.” “You don’t need to do that.” “No, but I want to.” Looking at you, Yoongi realizes that you’re really just a girl who came from nowhere to start a whole farm. Partly hopeless and causing an urge in him to take care of you, but for some reason, he doesn’t seem to mind as much as he thought he would. “Move. I’ll make dinner. You have some iceberg lettuce and kale that I can work with.” He starts rolling up his sleeves again and you don’t let your eyes linger on his exposed veiny forearms for long. You feel a bit embarrassed that you didn’t prepare more and that he caught you at a struggling week. But more than that, guests are supposed to be treated better. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.” “Don’t be.” As he passes, he plops a hand on your head and you look up at him, surprised at the unusually affectionate gesture. “I’m quite the chef, you know. I make better breakfast than you do.” Yoongi probably does, but your pride won’t let you admit it. “Psh. You haven’t started yet. Don’t get so cocky.” You help by setting the table and then pulling a stool to watch him cook. Maybe it’s a bit lame, but you’re impressed at his knife skills and how fast he chops the lettuce and kale into thin strips, keeping a constant rhythm and never once stopping. You scoff when he glances at you with a smirk, but there’s little you can say, especially when he sautes it in a pan with oil and half an onion you have left. The house is filled with a mouthwatering scent and it’s even more delicious than expected once the plate is plopped down in front of you and you get a taste. “Oh my god….how did you make this?” Yoongi smugly shrugs. “I made it up on the fly. Can’t help that my talent is inborn.” You’re too busy eating to retort with a snarky comment. “Maybe I should marry you.” He laughs and quickly eats before you steal his own portion. The sun eventually goes down and it’s hard to say goodbye after one of the best days you’ve had since coming here, but you know you’ll see Yoongi tomorrow and the next day — whether that’s across the acres and through a giant wave or arguing as you do at the market. He’s always been around, an addition to the farm life itself, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

When Yoongi returns home, he announces that he’s back. There are storming steps, his mom enthusiastic and racing down the stairs to ask him how it went. His dad looks around the living room corner as well, and he sighs at their intrusiveness. “It was fine.” Yoongi tosses the keys aside, scratching the back of his neck. “She’s actually a lot more hard-working than I expected.” He walks off before they can bombard him with any more inquiries, but they understand their son well enough and they exchange knowing smiles.

You never expect to see Yoongi awkwardly lingering on your porch like a car salesman, especially considering you were once doing the same thing at his house not long ago. But while he’s here just to deliver some apple pie his mom made, you eagerly pull him inside. “Why? Why?” he whines childishly, but stumbles after you anyway. “I need you to try something for me.” It was an Insta spot day, cars filled in the lot you designated, people from the city out in the back and the chatter loud enough to leak inside the kitchen. Families were strolling about, children picking kale, young adults posing for countless pictures by the picnic blankets and decorations. Yoongi can’t quite understand what their fixation and fascination is to drive all the way out here for such frivolous things, but if it works then it works, he supposes. You set the apple pie on the table and notice Yoongi peering out of the window, primarily watching the brunette boy fussing about and working the register behind the cute stall you made. “Oh, that’s Jungkook’s cousin, Jimin,” you tell him, even though he probably already knows. Everyone knew everyone around here. “I hired him to help out.” “Doing well enough to hire people?” he asks, brow lifted and a smile raising on his cheeks. “I guess you could say so.” Your pride is supported by the bustle outside the window. “I need all the help I can get.” “Are you trying to get me to help out too? Because I don’t work for free, lady.” “Pft. No. I thought you might want to try out the kale kombucha you made with me last week. You came right in time actually. I just got it packaged and everything. Wait here. I’ll go grab a bottle.” Without another word, you pull the door open and Yoongi sighs with a softened smile, watching you march across the land to chat with Jimin. But within seconds, his attention is taken away by the squeak of the door and a middle aged woman sticking her head through. “Excuse me,” her voice is shrill, “is there a bathroom in here?” “Uh…” He’s fairly certain you don’t let anyone inside your house and that he caught sight of fancy porta potties you set up on the side. “No. If you turn the corner, there’re some bathrooms you can use.” Yet, she blinks blankly at him and Yoongi holds his long exhale in his nose. Whatever your intentions are, it seems like he’s working for you anyhow. “I can show you.” Yoongi hopes he’s not wrong or it’ll be terribly awkward, but luckily for him, there’s indeed bright blue stalls and the woman thanks him as she waddles off. But he can’t take refuge inside your home when he’s interrupted by someone again. “Excuse me!” This time it’s a group of girls around his age giggling with caked makeup and dressed in short rompers. They thrust their phones forward before he can utter a word. “Can you please take some pictures for us?” “Uh, sure.” Yoongi feels out of his depth. Embarrassed. While you knew nothing about farm life, he knows nothing about city life. You might’ve disproved a lot of prejudices and stereotypes he held, but he still feels awkward and out of place in their scrutiny. Like he’s part of a completely different world, and he’s not sure what to say or how to act. But he still tries and crouches down, trying to frame the photo and catch the trees in the back with the stringed fairy lights above. “One. Two. Three. Smile.” “Thanks!” The girl comes forward to look, but before he can ask if it’s good enough, her friend comes up to him with another phone. “Can you take another one?” “Alright.” He gets back into place and times it. “One. Two. Three.” Yoongi hands back the device and is about to duck his head and seek refuge no matter who calls out to him, but the girl stops in front of him with a brightened smile. “Is it alright if you take a photo with me? I’ve never had a picture with a farmer before!” Yoongi sputters, speechless. For one, he hasn’t taken a photo in years, much less for a stranger’s personal collection. And secondly, he’s not some spectacle to be gawked at. He’s not some dancing monkey or clown. Not a poster boy or a cardboard cutout. This is his life— “I’m sorry.” A voice calmly cuts through his annoyance and Yoongi feels a hand against his shoulder. You’re beside him with a polite smile. “Staff aren’t allowed to be photographed.” “Oh. Okay.” They walk off and resume their activities. You take Yoongi’s hand and tilt your head towards the door. “C’mon. Let’s go back inside.” He feels safe inside your house again when he can remain an observer and not a participant. “Sorry about that. Some people can be a bit insensitive, but most of them have good intentions.�� “It’s fine.” You pour out the bottle of amber liquid into a tall glass. “They probably just wanted a photo since you’re good-looking.” “What?” Yoongi snorts and turns around with a grin. “So you think I’m good-looking?” “Isn’t that a fact? That’s why people were staring at you. The whole rugged look works well for you.” You plop down the glass in front of him before you can think twice about the honesty that just unabashedly spilled from your mouth. “Try it. You had a part in making it, so it’s only right, right? And if you like it, I’ll even let you bring some home.” He rolls his eyes at your mischievous smile and lifts the glass to his lips. It’s fizzy, and the taste is both tart and slightly sweet. It reminds Yoongi of sparkling cider, but with a herbal hint that he assumes is the kale. He doesn’t utter a word, even when you’re watching him intently. But after Yoongi smacks his lips together, he goes for a second sip. And you take that as a positive sign. “You like it?!” He’s startled at your overly excited voice. “It’s not bad.” “See?! I knew it! All you needed to do was to try my amazing kombucha recipe and your mind would be changed. Didn’t I say that? I totally told you I would get you to like kale!” “Hold on, hold on.” Yoongi stops you in your ramble. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I only said it was decent.” You laugh. “Sure. Whatever you say.” He sighs, but ruffles your hair as he walks past, already bidding goodbye. “Get back to work.” “Yes, sir.” You dramatically salute him and he leaves through the front door. But then it hits you a moment later. “Wait a minute….” This is your farm. Not his. // You’re thriving in more ways than one. Aside from your personal projects on the farm, you’ve gotten yourself established at the market, like one of the decade long vendors who’ve spent their whole lives here. After a few months of setting up your stall, now everyone knows you by first name basis. A few older ladies even gave you the nickname of Sunshine and it only makes you love them more. “You’re staring at her a lot, Yoonie.” His mother nudges him and he tears his eyes away from you across the market floor. “No, I’m not.” He’s not sure why he bothers. Yoongi feels like a child trying to deny the obvious. “Go talk to her. Lookin’ is not gonna do you any favours, young man. You have to talk.” Yoongi already knows — he doesn’t need his mother to tell him. “She’s busy,” he grumbles, “I’ll talk to her later.” Fortunately, a customer comes up and Yoongi takes the opportunity to escape the conversation, immediately moving to ring them up and leaving his mom with a hopeless sigh. At the same time, someone approaches you. After taking a sample from the tray, she decides to purchase a whole case of pesto much to your delight. “I actually bought smoothie and kombucha from you last week,” the lady mentions as you’re packing it up for her and you nod. “I know. You bought two large smoothies and half a case of kombucha, right?” Pleasant surprise takes hold of her expression. “How do you remember? Don’t you get a lot of customers?” “I remember most of them, but I especially remember your Chanel classic handbag,” you point out with a smile. “The medium pink is a rarer one, plus it’s not the kind of thing lots of people wear in this sort of place.” “You have a good eye,” the lady notes and you take the compliment. “It’s the only flashy thing I own and I have no other place to wear it aside from running errands.” “Oh trust me, I’m like that too.” You grin, finishing up and passing the machine card for her to tap and pay. “I find that as long as you have confidence, you can pull anything off and it makes running errands a lot more fun.” The lady laughs and easily agrees. She takes the box you offer her, but lingers. “Your kombucha and your smoothies are delicious by the way, and the pesto seems pretty good too.” “Thank you. It took me a while to narrow down the recipe, but I think I nailed it.” “You did.” She affirms and then out of the blue, asks, “Would you be willing to sell your products at the supermart? It’s a local grocery store I run with my husband, five miles from here, just down Imlings road.” You’re speechless, blinking twice at her as your mouth opens and closes. The older woman waits patiently with a smile and you muster a half-coherent answer. “I-I would definitely consider it!” “Great.” She smiles and then reaches over to her pocket. The woman hands you a business card. “Some folks around here have contracts with me too, and I’d love to add your products on the shelf. Give me a call some time tomorrow and we can chat about the details.” You’re stunned and only broken out of your trance when a customer comes up and clears their throat. It’s a triumphant day. You feel like you’re floating, walking on clouds — and Jungkook notices how you’re humming to yourself too and boyishly grins. “Something good happen, Y/N?” The pair of you are walking out, Jungkook carrying your boxes as you lug your totes with you while waving goodbye to the other vendors that were leaving for the evening. “Just everything. I feel like things are going right for me, you know? And that’s kind of rare for me.” “No, I get you. Pop always says there are rainbows after the storm. Then again, he always says how the Kim’s are running around like chickens with their heads cut off.” That makes you laugh, but then the two of you interrupted by a sharp cry of your name. “Y/N!” You witness Yoongi running up to you, completely out of breath. “Hey. Are you okay? Where did you even come from?” “Never mind that.” He straightens out. “Let me drive you back.” “Oh, Jungkook was just going to….” “Nah.” He insists and takes the boxes from the younger boy. “Our houses are closer together anyway. I don’t mind.” “What about your mom?” “She’s already left since she’s having dinner with a friend.” You look at Jungkook who’s wholly confused, a deer in headlights and you decide to spare him from the trouble. “Well, alright. Thanks then.” It feels a bit odd, but you take him on the offer and bid Jungkook a goodbye. The rest of your kale and belongings are packed into the back of Yoongi’s truck before you’re getting in. It’s old and worn, but the vehicle feels like it’s full of memories. You buckle yourself in and then he’s driving off with the fuzzy radio playing in the background as the golden sun sets over the horizon. “Jungkook ain’t shit,” Yoongi suddenly pipes up after a moment. You glance over to discover him looking straight out the windshield, hands gripped on the steering wheel. And you burst out laughing. “What?” “He was seeing Aria for a while and then left her for the hills, so he’s got a reputation around here. I thought I should let you know.” You see him peek at you in the corner of your eye, but you can’t repress your grin. “You sound like a boyfriend.” “Yeah, well, I’m actually a good one.” “Oh yeah?” Yoongi’s knuckles are white and with the way his tongue peeks out to lick the seam of his lips, you wonder if he’s nervous. “I could show you.” A giddy giggle that belongs to the sixteen-year-old you bubbles out. “And what would dating Min Yoongi look like?” Yoongi plays off of your playful tone. “For one, I haven’t gotten to show you around properly yet and you still haven’t gone to one of Taehyung’s bonfire parties. He’s the guy with the strawberry farm. And I have access to his exclusive parties cause we went to school together, so you could use me to get in.” “Hmmm….you drive a hard bargain, Min Yoongi.” “I know how to cook a mean dinner if you give me real ingredients too.” You laugh again, leaning your head back against the seat. “You’re too good at sweet-talking. Does your mother know you chat up girls like this?” “Maybe. But I only really sweet talk you.” He’s bold tonight and it’s not doing good things to you. Your face is heating and you’re incessantly tapping your fingers against your leg. Beneath the lighthearted flirtation was a sort of simmering nervousness that’s filled with questions of if the line is going to be crossed and when that would be, and who would be the first to make the move. Yoongi parks the car in front of your house and pulls the keys out of the ignition. The pair of you naturally shift and look at one another. Your gazes lock together and there are three seconds of tense silence — neither wanting to get out, to break the rather intimate moment. Where you muse how brown his eyes are and Yoongi, himself, hitches his breath. And then you’re lurching over for a kiss. It’s all mouths and noses bumping together, obscene and sloppy, but a long time coming. His lips are softer than expected, only chapped at the corners, but you don’t get to think about it for too long or deepen the kiss. Not when you’re too busy giggling and laughing against him. You pull apart, hands grasping onto the collar of his loose flannel. “You’re so eager.” It’s a bit unusual to see Yoongi be anything other than annoyed or composed, but you soak it up as much as you can. The sunset is painting his skin golden and the car smells like him too. It seems like you’re surrounded in Min Yoongi and it’s fully welcomed. “You are too,” he retorts on an exhale, hand skimming down to the dips of your waist. But then Yoongi swallows hard and retracts. He leans his arm on the steering wheel and looks out the window in disappointment. You wonder if you did something wron— “I can’t stain the truck. My mom has hawk eyes and she’s gonna know if we do something, and I’d rather she not.” You scoff and lean forward, swift enough to plant a kiss on his cheek and pull away. “For such a good talker, you sure are stupid, Yoongi. There’s a whole house behind you and no one in it.” A gummy smile spreads into his face and you feign a tired huff, lifting your chin and sticking your nose in the air. You add, “But for your information, I only give people the time of day when they make it worth it for me.” He’s already opening the door and accepting the challenge before you can finish. “Oh, I’ll make it worth it alright.” You find out that Yoongi has a dirty mouth and an even nastier tongue. Part of you always wondered if he hated your guts, but you couldn’t be any more wrong. You’re tugging on the strands of his hair, chest rising and falling as you pant. “W-Where did you learn how to do that?” The bastard shrugs with a smug smile. “I might be unlikable, but I’ve had plenty of practice before.” “Oh yeah?” The corner of your own mouth tugs. “With who?” Yoongi grins and lifts himself up to plant a sweet kiss against your lips. “You wouldn’t know them. But they’re not as important as you are.” “I’m going to choke over your greasiness, Min Yoongi.” “Good. Choke.” “You’re gonna have to stuff me with your cock first.” Yoongi laughs at how you’re desperately tugging him closer to you, but he easily agrees with one condition— “Only if you’re good for me.” The pair of you are sweaty when you finish. You thought the old bed frame was going to give up mid-way. Luckily, it held up even with all its loud squeaks and creaks. But you wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a dent where the headboard slammed against the wall. But you’ll count your losses later. You’re just relieved that there was no one in the house. While Yoongi might’ve been all soft groans and rapid exhales, he made you absent-minded to your own noises that somehow leaves your throat sore. You’re sure anyone who would’ve stood by your porch would’ve heard and been scandalized for the rest of their life. “You know.” You turn to Yoongi, having stared at the ceiling. His eyes meet yours. “You’re pretty good for a farm boy.” The playful quip ticks him off enough that he does it again. Yoongi pins you underneath him and is merciless. Your bubbling giggles turn to tears leaking down the side of your face from overstimulation, but you climax again through a moaning apology. When you’re spent, Yoongi collapses next to you. You’re surprised at how cuddly he is, how he naturally reaches for you, torso molding against yours and arms wrapped around your waist. In spite of feeling hot and sweaty, Yoongi holds you against him and you relish in it. “How is it possible that no one’s snatched you up yet?” “Maybe it’s because I’m known to be standoffish.” He smiles against your temple, soothed by the way you run your fingers through the strands of his hair. “And what about you? Do you have a boyfriend or a husband I don’t know about that’s waiting in the city?” “No. No one’s drawn me in quite like you have.” Yoongi’s smile pulls into a grin, and the pair of you are lulled by each other’s inhales and exhales, unintentionally falling asleep in one another’s embraces like lovers underneath tree canopies on a Summer afternoon. It’s some of the most peaceful sleep you’ve had, but then you’re shaken awake by a rattle and an ‘ow’. Your eyes open to find the other side of the bed empty and Yoongi nursing his hip after presumably bumping into your nightstand. You sit up, disoriented as he’s hopping up and down, barely getting his pants on. “I need to get home before my parents find out I was gone the entire night and start asking questions.” His voice is thick and husky, hair in a disarray, eyes bleary and barely awake. His panic makes you giggle and you watch him struggle to put on his clothes. Peeking outside, the sun isn’t up yet and the clock reads that it’s five in the morning. “Are they even awake this early, Yoongi?” “I don’t know. Sometimes.” He fiddles with his flannel, putting his arms through the wrong holes, and even when he figures it out, he doesn’t realize it’s inside out. “I’ll...see you later?” “Wait. Yoongi.” You stop him for a second and he turns around. It feels awfully juvenile, like you’ve reverted back into your sixteen-year-old self that giggles over crushes, but Yoongi always seems to make you feel that way. “Are we….dating now?” “If I didn’t make it any more clear last night and by sleeping over, then I don’t know what else to do.” It takes a beat for the words to sink in, but once it does, a bright and overexcited smile overcomes your features. Yoongi snorts before the corners of his own mouth tickles. When he’s gone, you discover that you miss him already.

The morning alarm rings at six. But by then, you’re already up. You’ve fallen into a natural schedule, a cycle that your body has picked up on and has awoken before anything needs to call you. And after brushing your teeth and running a comb through your hair, you’re taking care of your farm. Plowing fields. Harvesting kale. Having breakfast. You also package the last of the pesto and guacamole, pouring the kombucha into the bottles with the proper labels. Some of which are prepared for the grocery store to pick up while others are packed for tomorrow. Afterwards, you come to the farmers’ market and meet Hoseok, a boy you’ve hired to help you take over. He helps you man the stall and the cash register, giving you the freedom to chat with customers and other vendors or complete other tasks with Jungkook. By afternoon, you come back to the farm to check out the Insta spot and aid Jimin in running things smoothly. “This is beautiful, Y/N.” Today, you’re graced by a few friends from the city. They drove out here after you reached out to them again and you couldn’t be more pleased from their genuine reactions. “When you said you were coming out to start a farm...I didn’t imagine this.” “It took a lot of work, but it’s not half bad, right?” Mina leans in, eyes flickering around. “Where’s this infamous Yoongi?” A laugh spills from you. “He’s busy. You’ll see him next time.” “I keep hearing about him, but I haven’t even seen him or his picture once,” Tiffany huffs. “I’m beginning to think he’s fake.” You grin and insist, “I promise you he’s real.” “Oh my god!” Yeri startles the group by the sheer urgency in her voice, but when you all swivel to her, she has her phone held in the air, screen directed to her face. “This is the perfect lighting! Guys, come here and take selfies up before the sun moves!” You can’t help smiling as you watch them, matching their footsteps as they approach the fields. You can tell that they’re still surprised, that they love what you did — and you couldn’t be prouder. At ten at night, the last people have filtered out and you bid them goodbye. “Great job, Jimin. Thanks for the help as usual. It didn’t get too busy when I was gone, right?” “Not at all.” The brunette with the polite smile shakes his head. “Oh, but the customer feedback box was full. I put it in the living room for you.” “I saw that. Thank you. I’ll take a look tomorrow.” Looking ready to go, you walk him to the door. “Rest up then! I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Goodnight, Y/N.” But as one man leaves, you catch another down the road. The familiar truck is chugging, head beams piercing through the darkness settling across the horizon. Jimin recognizes it too after months of the same routine and smiles at you before he’s on his way. The truck is parked on your lawn and the dark-haired man in the flannel is already smiling when he catches you through the front windshield. He opens the door and slams it shut as you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed and the screen door held behind you. “Well, well, well. Look at what the cat dragged in.” Yoongi chuckles and grabs a crate from the back of his truck. “It’s groceries from my parents.” He meets you at the porch and plants a chaste kiss on your lips as a greeting. You follow him into the kitchen as he beelines to it. It’s almost like this is his home — an idea that tempts you greatly. “Aw, she packed me more pie.” There’s goat’s milk too and you store it in the fridge as Yoongi organizes your cabinet, making sure there’s enough sustenance to keep you healthy for the week. You’ve already told him that you could take care of yourself, but he’s stood firm and you didn’t argue. It was a guilty pleasure to be pampered by Yoongi after all, and you weren’t about to refuse it. “My parents want you to come over soon. They keep asking me about you.” You nod. “I’m happy to come over whenever they want. But I should probably bake something. Your mom always makes me food.” “Nah. She does it cause she likes to. How about Tuesday?” “That works for me.” “Have you eaten yet?” One shake of your head leads to him cooking and then the pair of you sitting at the table across from one another and sharing a warm meal. You ask Yoongi about his day and he tells you about bailing Namjoon and Taehyung out of jail. Apparently, they landed themselves into trouble after they lost their cow and went looking for it. Yet somehow, they ended up miles away on an orchard farm where they had a confrontation with an old grump and got arrested for trespassing. But as exasperated as Yoongi likes to act, the irony isn’t lost on you how he drove that far out to bail them out and keep the secret from their parents. He’s the kind of man that conveys his feelings through his actions instead of his words and you’ve come to endear that quirk about him. After dinner and cleaning up, you turn on the twinkling fairy lights strung along the backyard and stand on your patio, leaning against the banister. The land and rows of kale are strangely bare without people and the ruckus of crowds, yet there’s a certain peacefulness of the uncertain horizon. “What’re you thinking about?” A husky voice sounds beside you as Yoongi meets your side. “Nothing.” You shake your head. “All day I’ve been feeling proud of myself, that’s all. I think...my grandfather would be proud of me too.” “Of course he would be.” Yoongi drapes his arm around your shoulder. “I’m proud of you too.” As calm and detached as Yoongi may be at times, he still has the effect of catching you off guard when he sweet talks. And it’s a kind of duality that makes you adore him even more. You wrap your arm around his slim waist, grinning and he plants a wet kiss at your forehead. “Hey, Yoongi. Since you love me….does that mean you love kale too?” “Those things are mutually exclusive.” “But kale is my lifeblood.” You look up at him. “You can’t love me without loving kale.” He scoffs at your ridiculous argument, but it’s pointless back and forths like this that you enjoy the most. Especially when Yoongi gives in. “Fine. I love kale. But for the record, I love you a lot more.” You laugh and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m glad I came here.” You’re glad you never gave up or gave in to the discouragement of your family, the apprehension of your friends or the voice inside your own mind. You’ve finally found your place. “I’m glad too.” There’s no need to go home when home is right here.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi scenario #yoongi reader insert #bts farm AU #bts farm!AU #YOONGI AS A PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE BOY IN FLANNELS #AND OC AS A GIRL WHO KNOWS WHAT'S TRENDY #welcome to my first and only farm AU lol #hope you enjoy

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