#old dairy barn

[engelart]

“Old Dairy Barn after a rain‘,  c1992 by Norman Engel

#norman engel #texas artist #painting #rural america #rural art #old dairy barn #dairy farm #oil painting #sold #private collection #country living

[barstoolblues]

olympia is the clear winner of that poll because well. you guys havent been to the olympia farmers market in october

#the old market building barn downtown. the bakeries and dairies. the fresh fish stands #at least ​40+ varieties of apples. and some orchards let you try em all #bins and bins abd bins of different apple varieties. and then 3 stalls down BOOM another apple vendor #and downtown olympia…. drees my beloved ruthanne sends my mom christmas cards every year still

[ahedderick]

A Story of Gates

   When I was a kid there was a gate at the end of the sawmill lane that lead to Dickens’ lower pasture, a gate at the top of the hill that lead to Dickens’ upper pasture, and a gate behind the pond field that lead to Grove’s back pasture. Just a fence and a gate, but if you think about what they mean . .

   Of Course you can move the tractor or ride a horse across here - you don’t even have to ask.

   I Hate your oldest horse with all my Heart, but if he gets out I’ll help shoo him off the road and into the pasture Safely

   Kids just go Wherever on a summer evening

   Brandy the Jersey cow makes Independent Decisions and everybody in the neighborhood just accepts that

   A whole tractor/baler/haywagon combo can get from Grove’s barn to Our barn without ever going out on the main road

   We take watch out for each other. (And, of course, for Brandy.)

[ID: Photo of a short plump Jersey milk cow named Brandy looking at the viewer quizzically.]

[ID: Three photos of country roads in summer, winter and fall. The second photo has barns in the distance, and third photo has a large, white barn with a green roof.]

   You might think this is a post about ‘the good olde days’ but, no. Those fields, lanes, and gates still exist. We can still hike, ramble, or ride the same places as when I was young. I’m grateful.

#farmblr #farm living #farmcountry #old barn #jersey cow #dairy cows

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Tiny Match-maker

Bucky Barnes x Single mom!Reader Fluff

Adjusting to his new life outside of the superhero business, Bucky makes the acquaintance of a very young, inquisitive girl.

Just a meet-cute scenario with Bucky, that I might just write a part 2 for if people are interested in it.

Word count:1,853.

Masterlist // Bucky Barnes Masterlist

It wasn’t often that Bucky found time for himself. Between the busy and at times chaotic line of work he found himself in, it didn’t leave a lot of time to do the things that the average person could do.

Doctor Raynor suggested that taking a step back from the heroic, android, alien, wizard-crime-fighting lifestyle might be just the thing that he needed. To take some time to do the things that the everyday person took for granted.

So that’s why Bucky found himself for the first time in a long while browsing the aisles of his local grocery store, standing in the middle of the dairy aisle, pondering if there’s any real difference between getting oat milk or almond milk. 

He’s brought out of his thinking when he feels something collide with his shins. Something, or rather someone. A young girl, she couldn’t have been more than three, maybe four years old. Her hair that is tied up into two bunches on either side of her head bounce slightly as she crashes into him.

He looks around himself, apart from him and this little girl, the aisle was otherwise empty. 

What was he supposed to do? He’d rescued thousands of civilians time and time again, but this little girl was just standing there, wide-eyed and innocently looking up at him.

“Hi! My name’s Lottie!” the little girl introduces herself with a big gap-toothed smile.

Bucky crouches down ever so slightly to meet her smaller stature. 

“Hi there, Where are your parents, huh? Are you lost?” he asks, keeping his voice soft when talking to her.

 Just as the little girl opened her mouth to answer, a woman came running down the aisle, slightly out of breath and with a look of panic on her face.

As she gets closer, Bucky takes in her appearance, she's pretty. Really pretty. The kind of effortless beauty that has a faint blush rising to his cheeks. 

“Charlotte!” the woman calls out as she comes closer to the little girl before scooping her up in her arms and hoisting her on her hip. “What have I told you about running off like that?” you gently scold her, although the scolding is more out of your own worries about your little girl.

“Sorry mommy.” she murmurs quietly as she tucks her head into your shirt.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I hope she didn’t bother you too much.” you smile apologetically at the man in front of you. He was tall, broad and far too handsome for his own good. With soft dark brown hair that fell along his jaw, pretty pink lips, the most beautiful stormy grey-blue eyes, and just the right amount of stubble grazing across his angled jaw to have you blushing as he looked your way. 

“Oh, hey, no harm done, she seems like a sweet kid.” he smiles, his voice is deep and rich, with a slight raspy gravel.

“Yeah, she is, although it would help if she wasn’t so much of an explorer, it’d be a lot easier to keep my eye on her otherwise.” you laugh.

“No, the world needs more explorers I say!” the handsome stranger joins in with a friendly chuckle of his own. 

“Well, I can see you’re busy, so we won’t keep you any longer..” you string out the end of your sentence, when you realise that you don’t actually know your new friend’s name.

“James. My name’s James.” he says, gesturing to himself. You tell him your name in return with a friendly smile.

“Well, it was nice talking to you, James.” You smile before turning back down the aisle. 

Bucky watched as you walked away from him, and he couldn't  help but hope that he might run into you again.

“Look, all you gotta do is go down there, tell a few old man war stories, answer some questions, maybe have your picture taken a few times and that’s it” Sam explained.

Sam had signed Bucky up to tell a few stories to the kids at the school downtown. A few about his life back in the day, and his life now. Sam thought it might be good for his public image.

“Just because you’re Captain America now, doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do, Sam.” Bucky grumbled.

“When Steve gave me the shield, he did warn me it came with the custody of one grumpy super-soldier.” Sam laughed a wide, gap-toothed smile at his friend.

“..And that’s why you don’t let your best friend sign-up to be a government ordered science experiment.” Bucky smiled, as he finished his talk with the assembled group of young students in the small, but colourful classroom.

“Wonderful, and does anybody have any questions for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher asked, as she stepped out beside Bucky.

“How did you lose your arm?” a young boy blurts out, quickly raising his hand.

“Timothy!” The teacher is quick to gently scold the young boy, but Bucky quickly steps in before she can make her point.

“It’s quite alright, I don’t mind answering this question.” He assures the teacher, before turning to the young boy. “I-uh-I kind of lost it when I came up against a bunch of bad-guys, who weren’t very nice at all.” Bucky thinks carefully about how he was going to word his answer, especially for this 5-year old kid. “..But it’s all good now, because I’ve got the super-strong metal one.” he shows off by rolling up the sleeve of his deep-red henley shirt.

“Are you and The Falcon really friends?” another young boy asks from where he’s sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of Bucky.

“Well, we’re team-mates, so I guess I’d call him a friend, but really he only hangs out with me because I make him look cool.” Bucky jokes with ease.

“Mr. Sergeant Barnes.” A tiny hand shoots up amongst the group. 

Bucky looks out and there sat at the back of the class is the little girl who ran into him at the grocery store at the weekend. Her bouncy curls tied up in two bunches on either side of her head.

“Yes, Lottie, you have a question for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts. 

“Are you single? I think my mommy would really like you.” She smiles in that innocent way that children do, unaware of the slightly impertinent question she was asking.

Bucky flushes scarlet all over, a blooming heat settling over his features. 

With a laugh and a nervous scratch to the back of his neck, he gathered himself together enough to answer the young girl.

“I am, and I’m sure your mommy is a wonderful lady, but I think it's best that we don't talk about her private life when she's not here.” Bucky stutters out, chosing his words very carefully. 

The school bell suddenly rings into life, signifying the end of the day, and the children are all quick to get up from the carpet and make their way towards their coats and bags that are stowed away in their cubby holes.

“Ah ah, kids! What do we say to Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts

“Thank you Sergeant Barnes.” The children say harmoniously. 

Bucky shrugs on his dark leather jacket as he makes his way out of the school, watching as all of the kids rush off to find their parents.

He was just about to head off to the school’s parking lot, where he’d parked his motorbike, when he sees the same girl from the classroom, the very same one who had bumped into him at the grocery store, this time her tiny hand tugging her mother across the playground and straight towards him.

“Mommy! This is the man who came into class today to tell us stories!” Lottie bubbled excitedly. 

You stepped closer to Bucky and he swears that you got even more beautiful than when he last saw you for that fleeting moment. 

As you get close enough to him to fully see his face you are met with the piercing blue eyes of the familiar stranger who you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you’d bumped into him at the supermarket.

“Mommy! This is Mr. Sergeant Barnes! He told us all about working with his friend Captain America!” Lottie blurts out.

You had recognised him from the moment you saw him in the store, but out of courtesy to not embarrass him, you pretended that you didn't know about his life as an avenging super-soldier. 

“Mr. Sergeant Barnes?” Your voice raises in a teased question.

“Just James is fine, Ma’am.” Bucky clarifies, extending a warm hand out in a friendly greeting.

In return you shake his hand and tell him your name.

“So, it seems that we’re meeting again, James” You smile

“Hah, yeah.” He smiles back fondly with a warm chuckle.

“So you’re the one who’s been telling my daughter all these fantastical stories?” you pose, eyebrow arched.

“Just something I do as a way of working with the local community. Helping young kids to learn about their history from first-hand accounts.” he explains.

“Well, that's a very sweet thing to do.” you smile. 

“Mommy.” Lottie whispers as she tugs at the sleeve of your jacket. “He said he was single too!” 

“Sorry about her, she likes to play match-maker.” you apologise, hoping that things hadn’t taken a turn for the awkward. 

“It’s okay.” he laughs it off. “She’s a cute kid.”

“Yeah it’s just been me and her from the start, it’s been tough at times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Oh? Well she seems like a wonderful young girl, and that’s only testament to having you as her mother.” he says with an earnest smile tugging at his pink lips.

“Come on now, Lottie, let’s head home, and let Mr. Sergeant Barnes get back to his life.” you say to your daughter as you begin to make your way out of the school’s playground.

“Wait!” He jogs across the school years to catch up with you before you can leave. “and you can absolutely tell me if I'm just reading this whole situation all wrong, but I'd be a fool if I didn't at least ask you if you perhaps fancied meeting up and getting coffee..at least meeting on purpose this time.” he blushes adorably.

“You know what, I'd like that actually.” You nod. “Let me give you my number and you can text me whenever you're free and we can set something up.”

He hands you over his phone and you enter your number in and text yourself so you have his number on your phone too.

“Here you go,” you say as you hand him over his phone. “It was nice seeing you again, James.”

“Bucky.”

“Hm?” 

“My friends call me Bucky.” 

“Well, Bucky, I hope to see you again, sooner rather than later.”

“You can count on it.” He grins back with a cheeky wink.

Bucky walks back to his apartment with a confident stride, he'd have to thank Sam for signing him up for this gig, that's for sure. 

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @impmunson

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[important-question-anon]

here's this ask in a post bcs tumblr's dumbass couldnt process it in the ask

i'll do you one better, I'll do one for all the blogs i can remember

@totally-bing 's kill count is higher than his body count

@the-real-google collects niche items(stamps, trading cards, etc)

@operagxreal is the most pretentious when it comes to taking care of their hair

@incognito-mode-official practices pickup lines in the mirror

@definitely-wikipedia has picnics with it's human friend

@duothelingo 's favorite drink is most likely anything that orange(okay maybe im projecting here)

@subway-offical is a beast when it comes to making s'mores

@firehouse-subs-fr likes beetles and such

@the-one-and-only-duckduckgo is actually a world-class chef

@yes-im-youtube-kids holds a lemonade stand every summer without fail

@mcgeese is a fencing master

@definitely-spirit-halloween celebrates halloween in the middle of may

@official-dairy-queen loves to write in his spare time

@officialtinder always smells like passionfruit

@the-real-honda likes to pull up to the local fast food place and flex on all the poor people

@im-pandora-i-promise dries and presses flowers

@im-the-real-roblox-i-swear has probably 2,000 hours on roblox

@hot-topic-unofficial and @claires-unofficial play wobbledogs together

@official-fedex and @totally-ikea make little robot inventions together. in fact, they made subway's little robot buddies!

@bingle-official is learning French

@big-mayo-official has a collection of mayo jars hidden in a closet

@the-true-internet-explorer and @microsoft-edge-official (i think thats the right one) are two old best friends who reminisce of their younger days

@yandex-search-fr travels back home to russia and brings back treats for the rest of the mansion monthly

@nasa-real and @barnes-and-noble-official map the stars together

@real-sephora has cooties

@realsafari cosplays in his free time

@pizza-hut-official and @pinterest-real exchange photos of their travels

@samsung-music-official and @spotify-official make their own music and send it to each other for feedback

@centers-for-disease-control does chores around the mansion every day to make sure no germs are there. duckduckgo and mcgeese help them out

@definitely-tor-browser-official likes raisin cookies over chocolate chip(based)

@undeniably-chevron and @speedway-official-unofficial are married and have a secret mafia wing in their family

@the-us-navy-offical tried to make sure everyone's sheets were done military style. needless to say it didn't last very long

@shakespeare-official-account and @definitely-canada are best friends

more in part 2 because tumblr cant save my long ass post

#anon-sense

[stardewremixed]

First Kiss with Shane

@hellhoundmaggie requested a first kiss scene with Shane. He was the first guy I romanced in SDV, mostly because it was easy to in the beginning and I wanted that first-year flower dance so badly. 😂 🌸

🎈 In case you missed it - First Kiss with Harvey. 🎈

While Harvey holds a special place in my heart and is generally my go-to husbando, I didn’t want to leave my “first SDV squeeze” in the lurch. I’m trying to expand my experience with writing romance in general. Hope you enjoy. It’s a freakin’ novella. Haha. I don’t do short, and I wanted to show how he fell in love with the Farmer, and she with him. 

This is female farmer x Shane = first kiss. This one might be a little more PG. 

😉❤️‍🔥🔥

Sweaty palms. Greasy hair. Chubby cheeks and legs. Is this what she sees in me?

Shane stared bleakly at his own reflection in the refrigerator door. It was quiet. Nearly noiseless in the back aisle of the stark JojaMart. A lull in the daily traffic around 4pm on the dot. When his shift ended.

Shane pressed his forehead against the glass, grumbling to himself about his infinite lack of progress on losing weight. Ever since he started going to therapy and quit drinking, he felt confident that his life would turn around. Like magic.

However, life outside the rehabilitation center was much harder than he remembered. He was still stuck in the same dead-end job. He was still bumming a room off his aunt with his piddly rent And he was still rather plump around his abdomen. 

Every time Morris ordered him around, in that pompous high London accent, Shane wanted to give up. To give in. To snatch a beer outta the cooler and gulp away his frustrations.

Instead, he settled for cussing under his breath, and resolving to keep his head down. At least until he could find another job. No one seemed to be hiring in this dying town. The recession was still hitting hard. And he knew he was lucky to get his old job back after nine months in detox and rehab.

It was worth it. It would be worth it. He convinced himself as he puffed a lazy strand of hair out of his eye and continued stocking cartons of overprocessed milk, nothing like his aunt’s fresh bottles or the farmer’s delicious cheeses. 

While he was still grossly underpaid, Shane worked out the math. In six more checks, he could repay her. The Jolly Rancher. Just thinking about his silly little nickname for the farmer lady to the north gave him a warm feeling. The kind that alcohol used to give him, only better, more real. Her smile was sweet.

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When she first arrived in town, Shane genuinely disliked her. All her bubbly, bouncy, jolly persona encroaching on his flat, boring, grumpy existence. He had cultivated a philosophy of "me myself and I" and was perfectly content being alone, sulking into a pitcher of beer at the end of the night. But not really…

Her jovialty grew on him, especially when he would see her around town, helping people out. At first, he figured she was just another city do-gooder come to convert the backwater people to a more modern lifestyle. But her joy and kindness was genuine. Even when he yelled at her to go away, she still murmured a heartfelt apology for disturbing him and then brought him freshly grown peppers or tomatoes the next day like nothing had ever happened.

The Farmer purchased cows from Marnie so she could make her own specialty dairy products. He was seriously impressed. Because what city girl just ups and buys cattle? 

Sometimes when he was restlessly tossing and turning in bed (and if was honest, lonely), Shane would wander around in the wee pre-dawn hours. He always seemed to make his way to her ranch. Most of the time, she was out in the barn milking the cows and talking to them like they were her babies, with just a lantern illuminating her soft face. She was so beautiful. 

Raising cattle was no simple task. He knew this from watching his aunt. And Marnie had horses, pigs, goats, rabbits and chickens to think of too. He wasn't sure if the new rancher in town, with little to no experience (save her degree in veterinary medicine), was stupid or brave. Over time, he determined she was the latter.

Out searching for a lost cow in a thunderstorm. Not thinking about her own welfare. Only wanting to reunite a terrified animal with its herd. 

Fixing fences after wolves knocked down the back posts time and time again. Her fingers bleeding and scarred because of her lack of self-awareness sometimes. And chasing of “’dem there wolves” with sheer willpower... and... a big stick. 

Rebuilding the barn from scratch when a wildfire spread down from the mountains. She saved every single one of those animals. And needing treatment for smoke inhalation because she went back in for the tiniest frightened newborn. 

He remembered the time she got kicked in the head by one of the cows. Shane was so worried about her, even if he wouldn’t admit it when he carried her to the Clinic. Thankfully, it was only a minor concussion. (And it was an excuse for him to deliver Marnie's special basket of goodies to her twice daily so she didn't have to worry about feeding herself during her recovery). 

The rancher struggled for a whole year, after arriving in the Valley. But even when things went wrong, she was up and back at it the next morning with a lightness in her heart and step. It. Was. Admirable.

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Shane resolved to do better. To be better. She made him think about how things could be different if he wasn't a self-sabotaging jerkwad. The number of times she dragged his sorry ass home after getting plastered at the Saloon was too high to count, even if it was out of her way, even if she said she didn't mind. She wanted him to be okay. To be safe. She said so.

And she half pushed, half dragged him to the Clinic the night things got really dark. When he faced the edge of the cliff and thought "No more!" When he thought death would be a welcome reprieve from his pathetic life. 

She never judged him. She didn't enable him like his aunt. She didn't fall apart into a puddle of tears like Jas. She didn't lecture him on the evils of his ways while twirling his moustache like Harvey. Okay. Shane chuckled to himself. Maybe that last part was an exaggeration and unfair to the good doctor.

She. Simply. Cared. 

Through her actions. 

In the beginning, it was little things. A happy hello. A robust handwave. Then she started pulling up a barstool next to him in the Stardrop. She would ask him about his day and he would always answer the same way. But "go away" somehow morphed into a sarcastic "just peachy" and then eventually a half-hearted "fine, you can sit there." Once she jokingly called him Peaches. 

He didn't want to be bothered with her questions and idle chatter. He didn't want to listen to her ranching successes and woes, retold in a much-too-chipper voice. He didn't want to know about Bluebell and Daffodil and Daisy, how Mister Munster was nursing a hoof injury and how Mrs. Butters was expecting her second calf. Why did she think he cared about such details?

But it grew on him. Those rosy, ruddy cheeks, enjoying a hard-earned glass of whatever Gus had on tap. The way her eyes lit up and sparkled when she talked about her animal friends. The way her pale pink lips pouted when she lost a game of Journey of the Prairie King in the saloon arcade. Again. 

Shane found himself drawn to her energy. And he found himself missing her on the nights she didn't stop into the Saloon. Which was a rarity, but did happen.

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Shane knew she was someone special when he would watch the entrance door, breath caught, hoping she would breeze through, and then she didn't. Two days in a row. He started to feel disappointed, but brushed it off. Three days. He started to get concerned. On the fourth night, he went looking for her. And that's when he learned she was sick.

He practically broke down her door when she didn’t answer. 

“Aww you were worried,” she laughed weakly, and coughed. 

She looked rather pitiful, bundled under the blankets, hair sticking to her cheek, eyes droopy and dark. She thought Marnie would have told him. His aunt had sent a few of her ranch hands to help their neighbor out while she was under the weather. so her cattle weren’t forgotten 

No, Marnie never did. He suspected it was because she didn't know it would matter to him. But it did matter. She. Did. Matter. 

Without a word, Shane went to the kitchen and returned with a cool towel. He didn't even think. He laid the back of his large hand against her delicate forehead. He could've sworn the little Miss Jolly Rancher blushed. Or maybe it was the slight fever she was running. She audibly sighed as he placed the wet cloth against her burning cheek, closing her eyes and mumbling her thanks.

He wanted to know the last time she ate. She grunted and said something about some cereal earlier that morning. She didn't know for sure. She had slept most of the day. He promised he would be right back. 

She told him not to bother, as she struggled to lift her body off the bed, propping up by a shaky elbow. He insisted she lie back down. She was a stubborn one. Her protestations didn't last long as her head was too foggy to think straight. He microwaved a bowl of soup. She tried to sit up again, and he fluffed her pillows so she could prop up.

Her grip on the spoon wasn't firm, her trembling hands an indication of just how weak she was. So he caught the escaping silverware and lifted the soup to her lips. She turned red as a hot pepper, but he eased her with a surprisingly tender words, "Please. Let me take care of you for once, Miss Jolly." His own face and ears were probably red too. But she accepted.

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Since then, he began the habit of calling her "Miss Jolly." She flushed every time, but he enjoyed flustering her. It was nice… to care… about… someone.

She returned the “favor” and called him Peaches. At first, jokingly, just to annoy him. But over time, even the ridiculous fruity nickname grew on him. She was invading his thoughts and heart and he couldn’t stop her. 

He knew he had to change. He had to get better. Alcoholism was a disease that had ravaged his life and he was ready for something better. He couldn’t live like he had been any longer. She had changed everything for him. And he wanted to change in return. 

Disappointment smacked cold. He had researched so many places. But the one place that seemed to fit his needs and desired treatment plan was out of reach. Prohibitively expensive. He sold his dad’s watch. His car. He worked longer hours. Maybe in a few years he could make up the difference. 

She knew how much he wanted this... and how badly he needed this. Every glance at his savings account wanted to drive him to the bottle, the hopelessness of a solution just out of reach because of his crappy medical insurance. They wouldn’t cover it. Even though he was pretty sure Joja was the reason he drank so heavily. 

No, that wasn’t true. It was his own insurmountable guilt. Of surviving the accident. When they didn’t. Of leaving Jas without a respectable father figure. Or a mother. He didn’t even fight when the courts wanted to give him jail time. 

His aunt got a lawyer and gave him a place to stay when he got out. She helped him put together a resume and practically shoved the application for overnight backroom clerk in his hands. He had to face the music. He wasn’t cut out for any other job. And it was basically a glorified “stock boy.” 

Approaching middle-age, recently released from prison, and overwhelmed with a crushing lack of self worth, Shane interviewed and got the job. He should be grateful. But the hours were grueling and monotonous. Customers were rude. Employees were ruder. Except that Sam kid. He was a ball of sunshine. And his boss was sucking the life outta him. 

So he drank. He drank to forget. Because he couldn’t forgive himself. And every time he looked at Jas’ little pained expression, he drank more because he felt... so... damn... worthless. 

The Rancher changed things for him. He felt more positive. He got up earlier. He brushed his teeth. He combed his hair. He put on his uniform for the world’s lousiest low-paying job and went to work hoping things would be better. 

Faced with the inability to actually “get better” was... frankly... terrifying. What if he went back to being that same old pathetic blob of a human again? After ten agonizing days, he finally confided in the one person he knew he could trust. His “Miss Jolly.” 

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He couldn’t believe he had been moved to tears. She surprised him... again. With her thoughtful generosity and selflessness. She promised to pay for the difference. Whatever he couldn’t afford. She told him it wasn’t a big deal. It was a VERY BIG deal! She still had some of the inheritance money from her grandfather. What she hadn’t spent on fixing up the farm. 

“So I don’t get those gingham curtains I’ve had my eyes on for the past month,” she quipped. 

It was serious. He couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t accept it. It was too much. He didn’t like the idea of being indebted. He was stubborn. He could refuse. 

But she was more stubborn. She insisted it would be a loan, not a gift. He could pay it off over time. Without interest. Or he could work it off - sweat equity - on her ranch. Maybe with those chickens he liked so much. 

In the end, he caved. He packed up what little he could take with him. And she walked him to the bus stop. Kissed his cheek. Squeezed his hand. And said the words that simultaneously made him laugh and warmed his heart.

“Go get ‘em, Peaches.” 

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That was a year ago now. When he came home, she threw a big surprise party for him. A few people from town, his aunt, Jas. And she never looked more beautiful. She even found chicken shaped balloons. Because... what guy doesn’t want balloon animals from the girl he’s crushing on? 

Crushing on? He smirked. I sound like a middle schooler. 

He split his time between the market and her ranch. Gradually spending more and more time on her farm. Gathering eggs before his shift. Feeding chickens on the way home from work. Sipping peach iced tea in the shade of her porch and thinking this life wasn’t half-bad. But he wanted more. 

She started bringing by lunches on his longer shift days. Homemade sandwiches and fresh-pressed juices and handpicked peppers. The kind that burst with sweetness or that spicy kick he needed to get through the rest of his day. 

She learned to roll her own dough. Once a week, on hot summer evenings, she would make him pizza with her own special spicy red sauce. Wearing that cute little red and white checkered apron around her jean shorts and just below the edge of her tank top. Too hot to be standing around the stovetop making pizza sauce or the oven to bake the dough. But she did it for him. Shane looked forward to it after a long and grueling Saturday shift. 

He still stopped at the Saloon most nights, but now it was just to drink soda and share a pepper poppers appetizer. Gus started bottling root beer, made from bark and flowers and herbs from around the Valley. It wasn’t alcoholic. And it was an acquired taste. Getting better with time. 

She would breeze in and offer suggestions and feedback. Shane enjoyed watching the two “play” squabble over the choice of leaves. The kindly saloon owner and the girl he liked collaborating to make him a refreshing drink became a welcome nicety. 

Most nights, they didn’t stay long. Heading out for long walks around town. Shoes scuffling along cobblestones. Kicking up dirt on wooded paths. Kicking off on the beach to feel the mushy sand. Talking about nothing important, but always special. Any time with her was special. 

He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have a friend like her. To have a woman of her rare caliber show him any attention at all. She got past his defenses and he welcomed it. And deep in his heart, Shane knew - this was love. 

With today’s paycheck, he could finally take her on a proper date. Somewhere out of the Valley. Someplace where they could have fun together. He felt the excitement and nervous anticipation rising in his chest. Somehow he fumbled through an “ask” on her front porch this morning, managing to invite her to join him... if she wanted... at the bus stop... around 5pm. He had tickets to see the Tunnelers play. 

Shane finished his shelf, glancing at his watch. Ten past four. Just enough time to get home, showered, and changed. He disposed of the empty boxes in the dumpster and delivered the cart to the back room. Opening his locker, he hung his apron on the hook. Instantly, he felt lighter. Like that thing was a noose around his neck. A ball and chain. He really needed a new job. And in fifty, no, forty-six minutes, he could see her... 

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"SHANE!"

The shrill obnoxious tone pierced his moment of peace. The voice could only belong to one person - a holllow husk of a corporate shill, even more unlikeable than him, if that was even possible. Shane frowned, his eyes clamping on the store manager barreling toward him at full speed. 

“A whole second shipment came in just now,” the man grunted. “Like I need this when I’m short-staffed, as always,” he offered an exasperated sigh. 

I can’t imagine why... Shane thought to himself, bemused. The boss was insufferable. Always barking orders. Never praising his team. Paying peanuts. Polishing his baby - a silver Rolls Royce in mint condition - parked in the only covered spot in the entire Joja lot - every night - instead of doing paperwork like he should. How was he still employed? No one at corporate cared. 

“Not my problem, Morris,” Shane replied. 

“No, no, no,” Morris fluttered his short arms. “It is your problem. I need you to stay late and help Sam empty the truck.”

The man continued to ramble something about “this is why I pay you” and “you think you can do better somewhere else?” He badgered Shane about his “work ethic,” even if Shane had been a near model employee since returning from rehab. Even if his former colleagues actually welcomed him back, much to his shock. Shy little Claire even commented on how he was “different” than before.

Shane had been nominated for employee of the month, no doubt, angering Morris. The man had it out for him. Sticking him on graveyard shifts. Making him mop baby puke in the aisles. Forcing him to attend a “hospitality” seminar so he could learn to be nicer to, in Morris’ words, “bored housewives who somehow like your prickly personality.” 

Morris, a man who prided himself in appearance, with his neat little bow tie and perfectly ironed jacket, couldn’t believe how the ladies bought more after a rough encounter with Shane. It was good for business, of course, and Morris would take all the credit. That hospitality seminar wasn’t cheap, he constantly reminded Shane. Like rehab hadn’t made him a better person already. Or his relationship with little Miss Jolly. 

“They just fawn over your monotone delivery of the daily sales,” Morris droned on. “Yoba only knows why. You haven’t been educated at the finest university this side of the Pond with an impeccable taste in... well, everything.” Morris puffed his chest. 

“I just don’t understand why they giggle at the register about the ‘handsome’ stock boy when they could have me recite the daily sales in Shakespearean English for heavens sake. Well, no matter. I can use what I’ve got. You.” 

The man thinks I’m a frickin’ pack of meat. 

“Now in order to have sales, we must have stocked shelves. And in order to have stocked shelves, I need to have you stay longer. Because shelves don’t stock themselves... and what are you staring at?” 

Shane rubbed his jaw, catching his reflection in Morris’ little glasses. Could I really be that handsome? Morris wasn’t wrong. The market had been a little busier than usual in the mornings and around lunchtime. Shane came back from breaks early sometimes because customers “requested” him. He could reach the “tall” shelves. 

But he wasn’t that tall. And most times, he needed a ladder. Unlike Sam. But even Sam told him he had been relegated to “cute” because the female patrons wanted to check out the new guy (on the ladder) because Shane possessed a look of danger and mystery, and had that "hot dad bod."

Like that’s really a thing I wanted! Shane rolled his eyes. It's all a little disgusting. Being oogled. Because what? Dangerous? Dad bod? I’m just me. There was only one gal he wanted checking him out. And he needed to get going if he was going to meet her. 

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“No can do, Boss,” Shane removed his Joja cap and hooked it alongside his apron. “Got plans tonight.” 

“No, no, no,” Morris’ voice grew tight, his eyes becoming tinier. “That won’t do. You must cancel your plans.” 

“Do I get overtime?” Shane asked, half-distracted by the photo occupying the inside of his locker. 

It was the only thing he had ever decorated with at work. A photo of him and Miss Jolly at the Moonlight Jellies festival about a month ago. It was the one time he actually thought he was photogenic. How could he not be happy? With a gorgeous gal by his side, smiling and laughing as the photo was taken, a woman who believed in him, rooted for him, and cared for him. Shane’s expression softened as he thought about how much she had impacted his life. 

“You know what?” Shane ripped the photo from his locker wall with gusto. “I quit.” 

“Are you even listening?” Morris was saying. “And no, I’m not going to approve overtime. You left early by one minute the other night. One minute!"

"And one time last week, you were late by three minutes. I will not approve overtime for someone who nearly runs over a flock of geese with his bicycle and is late to work."

"If you’re going to keep up with this lazy attitude of yours...” he huffed and straightened his jacket. “I may have to reconsider my decision to rehire you... even if you bring in the ladies... I mean... sales...” 

“What?” Morris’ eyes grew wide as saucers beneath his horn-rimmed glasses, and then his expression darkened, as if Shane poured bitter coffee all over the plates. “You cannot quit. Are you joking?” 

“Well I do, and I’m not,” Shane shoved the old rusty lock that never latched properly into the other man’s hand, a smile crossing his face. “With pleasure.”

Shane waltzed out of the soul-sucking store, leaving a dumbfounded former boss as the double doors whooshed behind him. He closed his eyes and took a big gulp of sea-salt air and sighed. He felt free. 

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When she met him at the bus stop, his heart skipped a beat. She looked radiant in the setting sun. Her eyes sparkling like stars. And her sexy little denim skirt was a nice touch too. The way her hips swayed ever so slightly on approach. He forced his gaze upward. 

"Hiiii... Miss Jolly. I'm glad you decided to come," he greeted, his tone a bit stilted and formal. 

What am I doing? He rubbed the back of his head.

"Of course, Peaches. I'm excited," she grinned. "This will be my first game."

"You'll love it!" he replied, wrinkling his nose at her childish nickname for him. And I will too with you by my side.

"Is that cologne?" she asked when she reached his side. 

Her fingers curled around his hoodie strings as she closed her eyes and took a whiff. "I like it." She grinned and winked at him. "A bit spicy."

"Yeah yeah," he murmured and ushered her onto the bus, but he hopped up the step behind her, feeling a little lighter on his feet.

"You're in a good mood," she remarked as they wandered toward the back of the bus. 

The atmosphere was charged. Rowdy. Everyone seemed excited for the Tunnelers game. He nodded to a few familiar faces before settling in next to her seat. The back was better than the front. Cool kids sat in the back. What am I? In the sixth grade? 

Still he was relaxed. Smiling even. She repeated her statement as if he didn’t hear her the first time. Damn straight  I’m in a good mood.  Because I get to spend time with you… maybe even tell you how I feel tonight… He decided the overcrowded bus wasn't the best place for that confession. The vehicle lurched forward and so did the conversation. 

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"I quit my job."

Her eyes widened and a slow smile played at her lips, drawing his attention to them. I bet they're juicy. He had fantasized about kissing her, ever since she planted one on him at this very bus stop twelve months ago when he shipped off to rehab. Out of respect for their “business arrangement” and friendship, he held off on the liplocking, but it didn’t mean he still didn’t wonder what it would be like if he had just turned his head to meet her mouth that night. 

“Good for you,” she laid a hand on his shoulder. 

Her gentle touch bringing him back to reality and away from his lustful la-la land. 

“I knew that place was killing the light in you. I just wish I could've seen Morris' smug face when you finally told him."

"Light in me?" he repeated, ignoring the statement about his ex-manager. 

"Yes," she slowly slid her hand up to his cheek, blushing a little while she moved. "You look better. Brighter."

"That's just the shower talkin'," he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"No, it's you, Shane," she replied, dropping her hand far too soon for his liking.

He wanted to beg her to keep it there, against his cheek. But present company dissuaded him, and he remained silent, nodding his thanks. The way she said his name... he bounced his leg a bit in nervousness as the bus bumped along the road... it made his knees weak and his head clouded. 

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"Did I miss anything?"

Shane descended the last step, returning to their seats in the stadium, snacks in hand. The game was tied up, the teams neck and neck in their scoring with each other. It was one of the most thrilling games he had ever seen in person. Even more exciting because she was there. With her incessant questions about the rules. Her exuberance at the Tunnelers' first goal. Even the little wrinkle around her eyes when she didn’t understand what was happening. He loved every minute of it.

And he loved explaining things. Even if he worried about boring her to death with his encyclopedic knowledge of gridball, he couldn’t stop talking. This was something he loved and he was sharing it with the woman he loved... even if she didn’t know it yet. 

"Only the announcer making bad jokes," she smirked. “And that guy...” she pointed to one of the pros. “...doing a silly little dance for the fans.” 

“Yeah, he’s known for that,” Shane laughed awkwardly, feeling a small twinge of jealousy that another man had caught her eye. 

“Not that he’s any good at it,” she laughed too. “Not like our little grooves in the Saloon.” 

“Oh?” he quirked a brow. “By the way, I got us some nachos. I asked the vendor to add some hot peppers… just like we like it."

"Like we both like it," she said in unison. "Thanks,” she snagged a chip and did a deep dip into the sauce. “You should've let me pay for snacks since you paid for tickets and the bus fare."

"Naw, we're on a date," he shrugged. "The guy pays. Plus, I wanted to."

Shane averted his eyes, suddenly self-conscious. "Did I tell you how much… I l…love…. Gridball?"

She stopped and looked at him as if surprised by his old-fashioned thought. I shouldn't have been so careless, he grimaced. Then he immediately wished his face wasn't so readable.

It was a date. A real date. But somehow they slid from acquaintances to friends to best friends and then... somehow something more, without ever defining the relationship.

Did she want parameters? Did he need a label? Were they... ever going to be what he hoped to be if he ever got his head out of his ass and asked her for real? 

"Yes, only the thousand or so times on the bus," she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I knew you played in high school.” 

Just like that, she slipped back to a more neutral topic. And he mentally flogged himself for the missed opportunity. 

“Yeah, blowing out my knee pretty much killed my chances at playing pro,” he said. “Doesn’t stop me from enjoying the games though.” 

“Have you ever thought about it?” she inquired. “Going back. Maybe the minors or even just a pick-up team. I bet you looked great in a uniform,” her eyes twinkled mischievously. “And I wouldn’t mind the view of you in those white pants.” 

Red flooded his cheeks. Is she messing with me? How does she do it? Go back and forth between friendzone topics and flirtation? She made it look effortless. She was toying with him. She had to be. Dancing around the subject. Hoping he would ask. Or was he imagining things? 

Her hand hovered dangerously close to his side. Brushing the hem of her skirt. Nearly touching his shorts. He gulped, feeling flattered, but strangely unprepared for her seductive little smirks. He handed her the soda he fetched, and she thanked him, gulping back the liquid as if it were a small instead of a large. Saying something about all the cheering making her thirsty. 

He was the thirsty one. Eyeing her up and down and wanting to close the distance between them. Taking it from flirty friends to... faithful lovers. He never wanted a woman more than he did right now. To devote all his love and passion and energy and goodwill into being there for her just like she had for him. 

For the whole second half of the game, he nursed his cola. Distracted by her every move. The way she would raise her heels in anticipation of a score and lower them back to the ground when they didn’t quite make it. The way she spoke with that happy voice of hers, the kind that could lull him to sleep or rally him to make his best efforts. The way she repeated back facts she was learning about the sport, that he had literally just taught to her that night. He was completely mesmerized... so much so... he forgot to actually watch the game. For once, he liked the distraction. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the Tunnelers scored again, she nearly flew off the ground, wildly cheering for their unexpected interception. He caught her hand as she was jumping back down. She squeezed it and continued whooping and shaking her fist victoriously in the air, never taking her eyes off the game. It was now or never.

"Hey," he said loudly to be heard over the stadium noise. "I've been meaning to tell you… thank you.” 

“For what, Peaches?” she said, teasingly. “Did you see that? How many yards was it? Seventy-five? Eighty?” 

“I mean it, really,” Shane cleared his throat, leaning closer to her ear. “ For sticking with me through everything."

She turned to face him, her expression growing more serious. 

"My… anxiety… depression… you know," he continued, fumbling over his words. "The alcoholism… I mean, I wasn't exactly the funnest person to be around back then."

Did I just use the word funnest? He rubbed the back of his head, hoping to read her expression, but for once, he couldn't.

“You do that... when you’re nervous,” she remarked. “That head rub thing...” she reached up and ruffled his hair. “It’s... cute.” 

“Uh...” Shane trailed off. She was not making this easy. But he needed to say the words aloud now or he never would. 

"You… uh… still helped me. You've been a really… good… friend to me," he shared, and then immediately regretted his word choice.

"Oh," she said, quietly.

Was that a flicker of disappointment in her eyes?

He hurried his words. "Anyway this is your first gridball game, huh? Well? What do you think?"

Smooth, Shane. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Changing the subject again, you frickin’ chicken.

"Oh…" she said, glancing back to the field, sounding a little confused. "Fun. I guess, Pelican Town seems pretty boring in comparison. Unless you count Sam's punk rock blaring at 11pm, breaking noise ordinances." She forced a chuckle.

Is she…? Am I imagining things?

"I'm surprised," he replied. "Didn't you move to the Valley to escape the noise of the city?"

She's looking at me again with those beautiful heart-melting eyes. He rushed through his words.

"I mean… don't get me wrong. I totally understand. My life in Pelican Town is pretty bland, you know. And now that I don't have a job, I gotta find something meaningful to do with my time again. A guy's gotta eat, right? Heh?"

"I was thinking about that," she replied, without looking at him. "I think it would be nice to have you around full-time."

"What?" he blinked.

"I've got one ranch hand now to help in the back pasture and one that helps out with the milking and all, but if I'm looking to expand, and if they ever take a sick day, I could use some extra hands," she continued. "Maybe your hands?"

I couldn't. Possibly. Was she blushing?

"You've already… done so much for me," he hated the hesitancy in his tone. "I… uh…"

She ignored his last comment. "This would be a business thing. We could do it temporarily to see if you like it. And if it's a good fit for both of us. I can be a bit of a…" she narrowed her eyes, mischievously. "Hard taskmaster."

"Oh? Yeah I've heard that from your current employees," he smirked. "But you are still a jolly one."

"Yeah…" she smiled, almost shyly, tucking a hair over her ear. “Your Miss Jolly.” 

The noise level in the stadium increased near ten-fold. All he could think about was how she said the words. She was begging him, wasn’t she? Walking right up to the brink and leaving him there? He reluctantly ripped his gaze away from the farmer to the field.

"Gah!" he screamed, his volume matching the crowd. "The Tunnelers are on the attack."

"Yes! Yes!" she shrieked. "Oh my Yoba! Final seconds. They're gonna…" she jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "They're gonna break the tie."

"GOAL!" they yelled in unison. 

He never felt so happy. He was going on six months sober. He quit his horrible job. The farmer was offering him another one so he could see her every day. And he got to watch his favorite team in the world in the closest game in history with his favorite person in the world. Sharing this moment together meant everything.

"Thank you Shane!" she said, trying to catch her breath. "This was the best evening ever with you!"

"I know, I know!" he exclaimed. "Probably one of the best moments of my life."

Before he could stop himself, his lips were against hers. Surprise flickered in her eyes. All he could hear was the thudding of his own heart. She was flushed. The warmth of her lips. The taste of root beer. The delight overwhelming the alarm bells. He took a step or two back, stumbling as he came to his senses.

"Oh?" he gasped for air. "Uh… um… sorry. I guess I got carried away there. Maybe I had one too many... sodas. All that sugar. Ha!" 

Shane reached up to rub his head like he always did when he was nervous, just like she had noticed. Except this time, she strutted toward him, confidence in her eyes as she grabbed that hand and tugged him down. As they kissed for the second time, he felt her melt into his arms as she offered a faint “finally,” barely audible amidst the roar of the crowd. 

Encouraged, Shane grinned, hoisting her off the ground. She giggled and kissed him more fervently. Maybe he didn’t need words. Maybe he only needed actions to show her how he felt. 

And she was reciprocating. A dream come true. Their eyes remained locked in a loving gaze as he pulled back from her lips. When he finally set her down, he breathed heavily. 

"You really do love the Tunnelers?" she teased, disentangling her hands from his hair. 

"No," he shook his head, determined not to let this moment go by. "I really do love you."

"Come on, we'll miss our bus outta here," she grabbed his hand and pulled him through the exiting crowds.

“Wait,” Shane pulled her back for one more greedy kiss. 

She happily accepted, but he felt a fleeting ping of sadness even as they kissed in the stairwell, people pushing around them. He wondered if she even heard his confession. Maybe it's too soon? We just had our first kiss. She probably didn't hear me.

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When they reached the parking lot, the reality of what had just happened still sinking in, they were too late. The bus huffed away with a puff of smog. They had just missed their ride back to the Valley. And there wouldn’t be another one until morning. If he hadn’t been so carried away and enamored by his date, maybe they would’ve left the stadium sooner. 

“Guess we should call a taxi,” she broke the silence first. “Or... actually... find a hotel.” 

“A hotel?” he repeated, his ears perking at the thought of sharing space with her. 

"Yes," she replied, without skipping a beat. "I mean, if we're gonna be stuck together in Zuzu overnight, we should get a hotel. A taxi ride would be really expensive and I don't think we have enough time to get across town to catch the train."

"Oh right," he said softly. "Uh… I can't let you pay for a hotel too."

"It's no trouble," she pulled out her cell phone and started scouring the internet for places. "And a hot shower sounds nice after all the sweat and grime of us in there,” she nodded back toward the stadium. “...jammed in like sardines."

"Uhm…" he blinked rapidly. You're a grown man. Get it together.

"This place looks nice," she showed him a picture after a minute or two, while he awkwardly plopped on the edge of the sidewalk. "And it's got a 4-star rating." She sat next to him, dropping her hand on top of his. “Oh look it’s got an in-suite jacuzzi.” 

"Uh… sure," he shrugged, uncertain about what to do with his hands that so desperately wanted to kiss her again. "Well, that definitely was a good game."

"Yes, and it's going to be an even better night, because it doesn't have to end here," she smiled sweetly. “Since we’re getting a hotel,” she winked. 

“Oh yeah... and we won too,” he stammered. “The Tunnelers, ya know?” 

“No... no, I didn’t. Really? They did?" she smiled sarcastically, and leaned closer. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“What?” he gasped, feeling shocked as her blase attitude toward his favorite team. 

“I mean, it was great... and all... and their win was pretty spectacular,” she acknowledged. “But I feel like I won the lottery with you here.” She interlocked arms with him. “Did you mean it? Shane? When you said you loved me?” 

So she did hear me! And the way his name fell from his lips caused his heart to soar and he found his confidence. 

“Yes, I meant it. I love you,” Shane replied. “But I wanted it to be special. Better than this... stranded in a parking lot with trash all over the place.” 

“It is special,” she replied. 

“But it wasn’t perfect,” he grimaced. “I was planning on telling you when we got back... when I walked you back to your place tonight.” 

His head felt hazy with love and desire as she kissed him again. This time, she draped a leg over his, pressing against his chest. He audibly moaned, leaning into the kiss. His hand naturally slid down her back to help her balance, and he squeezed softly, like he had wanted to for a long time. She matched his intensity with a clutch of her own, and he groaned again, reluctantly breaking their touch. 

“I don’t need perfect, Shane. I just need you."

His heart leaped from his chest as she continued.

"I love you too. I want you.”  

“Ahhhh... then let’s get to that hotel,” he said, the heat of her breasts against his chest creating a near uncontrollable fire within him. 

“Fine,” she playfully pouted. “I’ll behave... Hot Stuff," she fanned herself. “...for now... since we’re in public.” 

“Believe me,” he replied with a heavy sigh, feeling a healthy growth between his legs. “I want you all to myself.” 

She giggled and tapped her phone. "Done. Got us booked.”

“That fast?” 

“Yes, It’s only a two and a half block walk. Now… shall we?" She jumped to her feet and darted away briskly. 

“Someone’s impatient!” he smirked. “What if I had said no?” 

“I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” 

“Oh really?” he liked teasing her as she brought out his confidence. He started into a jog away, passing her on the sidewalk. “Well, I’ll see you soon.” 

“Shane!” she laughed and chased after him. 

Of course, he let her catch him. She playfully punched his arm, but then lingered. She was beaming. And he was too. Shane took her hand, looking down at the woman he loved, and smiled, brighter than he ever had in his entire life.  She loved him and wanted him… just as he loved and wanted her. 

 “Shane?”

He wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulder. Tonight, he was going to make her fully his, and he would be fully hers. 

"Yes, my Miss Jolly.” 

#stardewremixed #sdv shane #sdv farmer #female farmer #replies #national kissing day #first kiss #hellhoundmaggie #sdv headcanon #sdv headcanons #stardew valley headcanon #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley shane #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley #sdv morris #shane x farmer #shane x reader #sdv marnie #sdv jas #sdv sam #sdv gus #zuzu city

[jungle-angel]

A Boy And His Critters (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob think your oldest child might be an animal whisperer

Warnings: Mentions of birth, pregnancy, cuteness overload etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @withahappyrefrain @bobfloydsbabe

It was late in the afternoon in early spring, on a day when the hawthorn trees in your yard had just begun to bud and flower. Your birdfeeder already had more than enough visitors, your three cats, Freya, Thor and Pumpkin, having eyed them from the living room window. Already there had been fifteen calf births within the last two days with Bob, his father and his brothers and sisters having to wake at some ungodly hour to help with the births.

You were in the living room of your home in Montana, the soft Disney piano music playing from the speaker on your laptop. Bob lay on the spread out quilt on the living room floor, one pillow under his head and the other under his tummy while he gently rocked Baby Rudy in his little baby hammock. The sun streamed through the windows as you sat close to your husband and baby, the other three outside with their grandparents or aunts and uncles while you were busy carding the freshly shorn sheep's wool from the week before. You set aside your brushes and quickly took a snapshot of the sweet sight, hoping to add it to the photo album later.

You heard a loud meow and felt that familiar bushy tail brushing against you, looking down to find Thor rubbing against you. "You need a good brushing," you chuckled, teasing him with the carding combs.

"S'it the cat again?" Bob mumbled with a yawn.

"Yep," you answered, getting back to your work. "Rudy asleep?"

"Mmmhmm," Bob answered. "M'gonna go see if Dad needs help and come back for a nap."

Bob rose from his spot and kissed you before heading out to the barn to see if his father needed any help. "Hey sleepyhead!" the older Floyd greeted, tipping his black cowboy hat a little.

"Hey Dad," Bob answered sleepily. "Everything good?"

"Yeah everything's lookin good," Joe answered. "The hands have it all down so we don't have to worry until the spring auction. The baby go to sleep?"

"Just went down for a nap," Bob yawned. "I think I might too, my eyes are starting to itch."

Bob and his father conversed back and forth, totally unaware at first of the clanking of a metal bucket and the hurried footsteps of five year old Auggie.

"Bud?" Bob asked when he finally saw. "Whatcha doin?"

"Nothin Daddy," Auggie chirped.

"Doesn't look like nothin," Joe chuckled.

"I gotta go milk the cows, Papa!" Auggie announced.

Joe and Bob were humored to say the least, more so when they saw Smokey, the crotchety old rooster weaving his way in and out from between Auggie's legs. They followed behind him to make sure he didn't get into trouble, when he approached the female dairy cow that Joe and Irene had taken in, singing in his chirpy little voice, one of the farm songs he had learned in his kindergarten class at the so-called "hippie school" he attended with the other Dagger children.

"Holy shit," Joe chuckled. "Get a load of this Bobby."

Bob was thunderstruck when he saw the old bat following Auggie into the barn with Smokey still clucking away between his little cowboy boots. Normally it would take two or three of the hands to lead her in, but here was Auggie, five years old and barely up to his father's hips, leading her into the stall with no issues.

"Un......believable," Bob laughed.

"How the fuck does this kid do it?" Joe wondered out loud, a broad smile on his face at the sight of his grandson.

Bob quickly pulled out his phone and began recording, hoping to be able to show the others when they had a chance to come by. Auggie chirped away as he milked the cow until a startled moo came from her.

"Sorry Peach, but that's what Daddy does to Mommy and it works."

Bob stifled a squawk in his throat but not before Auggie began yelling at him in his best Shrek voice.

"AYE! GET OUT ME FUCKIN SWAMP!!!!!"

"August Robert!" Bob laughed.

Auggie hurried over but Bob was in too good a mood to discipline his son. "Sorry for using a dirty word, Daddy," he apologized.

Bob picked his son up and kissed his cheek, Auggie's glasses falling slightly off the bridge of his nose. "I'm glad you said sorry, but Daddy should remember the rule the he and Mommy put into place."

When Bob was able to go back inside, he showed you the video including the one of Auggie's Shrek impression.

"You'd think he was an animal whisperer by the way Smokey follows him around," you laughed.

"Sometimes I like to think so sweetheart," Bob yawned as he lay on the couch.

You set aside your carding combs and the wool, covering Bob with the spring quilt and snuggling in beside him, the two of you proud as ever of Auggie.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd x y/n #top gun maverick

[heartfullofleeches]

please elaborare on alien yan and them thembo cow reader

(Just a not so little dairy farmer and the extraterrestrial who's got the hots for them and not totally isn't trying to lure them onto their ship)

Fresh mountain air, wide open fields for you and your herd. It wasn't always easy, but this was certainly the life for you.

Early on, you did everything thing to conform to human society. Taken in by a family in a place where people like you were the norm life was pretty easy - say for strangers tugging your horns when you were too small to defend yourself and mooing at you on the street, but that problem took care of itself once you towered over your bullies later on with the strength to match.

The only challenge you faced afterwards was a thirst for a life that never was. Living in a bustling city, you never experienced the outdoor life yourself, but you grew up on the romanticized portrayals - and fell more in love with the real thing when you finally got a taste visiting a close friend's family farm. It was then and there you decided to pack up and move out to the country once you had the funds. As luck would have it, that friend called you up with an offer you couldn't refuse when they heard about your future plans. Overnight, you were the new owner of a farm and on your way to living the life of your dreams. Wished they'd told you more about the surveillance cameras you found hidden around during a deeper inspection of the place, but you'd manage.

You adored the change of scenery. There was a town a couple miles out so you weren't completely alone, but you had your animals to keep you company. Majority of your business comes from that town, but you've been taking a little break recently to take care of your herd and the bizarre events happening around your barn. You normally let your cows go free range, but two of them have gone missing without a trace. You've found strange symbols carved into the wood of your home and fields, the stocks from the harvest bundled neatly at your doorstep. Day by day, you started to regret not asking more about those odd cameras - especially since your friend hasn't answered any of your calls recently, but now's not the time to focus on that.

You've got a visitor.

Tires crunching atop the gravel road, an old beat up truck pulls up to the side of your house. No deliveries were scheduled for today, so you guessed they might've needed some assistance or looking to by something for the road. As the driver steps out of the vehicle, you're fairly surprised. They were big as you if not bigger; a slight hunch in their back obscured their full height. You've never met a human around your size and you couldn't see any features so far that would mark them as a hybrid. It was hard to see most of them really. A baseball cap was pulled over their eyes and the lower portion of their face was covered by a cloth mask. The only reason you knew was because they were staring right at you, all the way over at the open barn. The bovine at your side nudges your shoulder as you look back.

"I'll be back back soon. Okay?" You stroke her head and lead her back to the rise of the ground, picking up the filled bottles of milk and your bucket on your way out. The driver is inspecting your front door by the time you make it down the small hill to your humble home, picking at the flaking wood with their black nails. One foot on the porch and they're back focused on you. You still can't see their eyes or face, but their cheeks crinkle like they're smiling.

"Afternoon."

Their voice is...off. It's scratchy and hoarse like they haven't had a drink of water in days, but it reminds more you of static. Must be rough for truckers this time of year. "Afternoon! What can I do for you?"

The driver looks their feet, brows scrunched as they mutter to themselves. "H...ha.. Happen to have something to drink on you? I'm quite parched from my... travels."

"Course, kind of our main business here." You joke, reaching ingo your bottle for a glass. "On the house. Not to sound rude or anything, but you sound like you need it."

You hand the fresh bottle of milk to the stranger who graciously it off your hands - popping the top and taking a curious sip of the sweet cream. Their jaw shifts as they swish it around on their tongue, stiff shoulders relaxing some.

You fix the bill of your hat, horns making the task the toughest of your load. "Hope it's to your liking. Comes fresh from barn!"

The stranger studies your face and horns; eyes slowly falling to your chest and the cow print pattern of your tee. In a flash they're throwing their head back and down the entire bottle, lapping at its rim and snaking their slender tongue down its hole. It hits the bottom of the glass, pulsing against its floor. Maybe they were a hybrid -longest tongue you've ever seen. They stop only when their hat starts to slide back to fix it. You've never seen anyone so excited for your milk before - you hope the girls will be happy to hear this when you feed the herd later on.

"So, what are you doing in this parts? Haven't seen a delivery truck come by that wasn't one of mine in months."

A hairline crack runs the wall of the bottle. "I.... "ve just been on the road with no destination in mind. Searching for my place in the universe, but the country air is nice too. Think my trucks finally giving up on me, and I saw a sign for your farm down the road. Do you have a room I can stay in till I get it working? Food won't be an issue for me.. I can repay you with my services for now and send some money late on. Please..."

The poor thing. You rest your hand on their shoulder. "Slow down, it's alright. You don't have to pay me back or anything. Just focus on getting back on your feet, okay. The guest soon is a little junky right now since I haven't unpacked all my things, but you can wait in the living room while I'm moving things around. Welcome aboard."

Patting their arm, you swing the screen door open and step inside, inviting the in. Walking closer, their attention is taken by the wind chimes handing above your door, moreso the stains they reveal. The stranger takes off their coat and throws it on the chair outside your home. Your tail swings behind you with each step you take - so close yet so far. No - patience. They already had one slip up earlier with their lines. They'd rehearsed so many times, but not once did they conquer the hypothetical where you asked about them. It was the most logical option, so of course they skipped it. Their sweet cow would do nothing but offer a hand to the unfortunate. That's why they loved you so.

In their searches they found nothing to save this planet from its fate, but in the end one member of it's superior class would live on - in the stars.

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere #yandere blurb #yandere insert #monster reader #yandere drabble #yandere alien #hybrid reader

[zooophagous]

Ok so a short drive out of town there is a creamery. They make their own European style Gelato in custom flavors and also make their own cheeses and milk based goods.

That's not important. The important part is the creamery is on site with the dairy farm that produces the food and on select days you can go get your cheese, eat your Gelato and tour the barn to MEET THE COWS.

Naturally I am obsessed with this concept because deep down I've always been chasing the high that comes with husbandry of large hoofstock so I text my sister all excited about it right.

I go on and on for several paragraphs about how we have to get to this town and get cheese curds and ice cream and meet the cows and we can make a whole deal of it right.

She sends me back "???"

So I reply "COWS! (Sister's name) COWS!"

And I get the response.

"Who is (sister's name?)"

I look again. My sister changed her phone number recently and her old one was still in my phone. I've been texting a random stranger about cows and ice cream the entire time.

[malegains]

It’s been six years since I started apprenticing with Oleg here at the dairy. Those first couple months I was worried he’d kick me out. He said I was welcome to as much of the muscle-building yogurt as I cared to eat, and I was guzzling that stuff down by the gallon morning noon and night. But Oleg just laughed and encouraged me. He taught me you don’t get into this business to make money, you get into this business because you love watching men grow, and growing yourself.

He’s finding it a little difficult to get around these days, what with his continued growth, and I do most of the work on the farm. That’s fine. He’s earned a retirement, and he’s happy as a clam in the old barn we converted for him, guzzling yogurt, flexing, cumming, growing. It’s a good life!

I feel like I’ve gotta start looking for an apprentice of my own, though, since I’m probably two or three years away from my muscles getting in the way of my day to day activities, like they have for Oleg. Someone’s gotta keep the dairy running, who else is gonna keep the men of this valley bursting with muscle?

You wouldn’t be interested, would you?

#ai muscle #male muscle growth #ai muscle growth #muscle #musclegrowth #muscle growth story

[everybodyshusband]

@moony-ghoul’s post got me thinking about a farm au where the ghouls live in a big farmhouse in the countryside :3

they grow crops in the fields and have a herd of cows, a herd of sheep up in the nearby hill, horses in the stables and a big ol’ chicken coop. they make their living by selling their milk/butter/eggs to the nearby town and every day dew is up before the sunrise to milk the cows. he and mountain pass each other and share a quiet, sleepy conversation and a kiss when they pass each other on their way to their respective tasks (dew to the barn for the cows, and mountain to the stables to ready the horse and cart for his daily milk run)

aeon has a soft spot for the chickens so rain and cirrus are teaching him how to take proper care of them. he was entirely horrified when he first learnt that he needs to feed the chickens their own eggshells along with their regular pellets and kitchen scraps

aurora has a soft spot for the sheep. she’d stand up on the hill and watch them for hours if she could. she trained the sheep dog herself and everyone calls her “little bo peep” whenever they see her coming back down to the house. sunshine bought her a shepard’s staff as a joke but aurora LOVES it and refuses to visit her sheep without it

since aeon’s taken over the chickens, rain decided the farm needed bees and now he’s got a few hives going. they sit just outside the kitchen windows so whoever’s working in their can open the window and hear the gentle hum of the bees while they cook. cirrus helps rain harvest the honey when it needs it and they both take great pride in the labels they designed. they’re working hard to convince mountain to take some of their jars on his milk cart rounds to see if he can sell some in town

aether’s a horse girlie <3 he grooms them well and makes sure their coats are shiny and pretty and that they’re all healthy enough to be pulling the farm machinery in the fields

sunshine’s self-imposed daily talk is going around the farm making sure everything has water. that includes the animal’s water bowels/troughs and that the collection of houseplants, the vege garden and the fruit orchid. she has a collection of watering cans but her green one with flowers painted on it in her favourite

swiss works the dairy room. he takes the milk from dew in the mornings and keeps some as milk (making sure he’s run it through a milk separator before he bottles it), some he churns for butter and some he sets aside to turn into cream

cumulus loooooves the wheat field <3 if no one knows where she is, the first place they look is there. she finds it calming to stand in between the furrows and watch everything sway in the wind. she’s the one who drives the battered old truck down to the flour mill a few hours away and brings back bags filled with soft flour (she sells most of it, but keeps a few bags for the farm so they can use their own flour in their baking)

speaking of baking and cooking, they all share the responsibilities of the kitchen depending on who’s done what that day but they all have things that they’re the go-to to make it. cumulus and her breads are renowned throughout the land (no seriously, she’s had people come to the farm asking to buy her bread) and she gets so much joy from carving little designs into her sourdough loaves and seeing how they turn out once they’re baked. cirrus is the BEST at making omelettes and she has a special knack for knowing which eggs will have double yolks in them. rain is surprisingly good at barbecuing/grilling and cooks roasts fantastically well with the perfect seasoning and melt-in-the-mouth deliciousness. aether the king of baking will bake so many sweet treats and they’re all soooo tasty and addictive. he’s mastered almost everything but they got a new stand mixer for their kitchen and he has No Idea how to work it so he mixes everything by hand. luckily, aurora knows exactly how it works so sometimes she and aeth will tag-team in the kitchen to make things faster. they also love decorating things together and aurora is fantastic at plating their dinners up so elegantly. aeon can cook curries and rice and that’s IT but no one else can get the rice cooked quite as well as they can, so no one’s really complaining. dew and mountain are the best at cooking warm comfort meals and soups in the winter so if neither of them are busy and someone is in need of a little extra cheering up, they’ll make the person’s favourite comfort meal to keep their spirits up and remind them of how much they’re loved. swiss and pizzas OH MAN. he can do all the fancy spinning tricks with the pizza dough and they always come out of the pizza oven (he and aurora only finished building it a few weeks ago) perfectly cooked through. he loves preparing pizza nights for everyone where he’ll prepare the dough and toppings on the massive kitchen table and let everyone roll their own dough and choose their own toppings before he puts them all in the oven and calls everyone to their meal when it’s ready. sunshine is the queen of soups and salads. she can whip together a soup or a salad out of practically thin air and they’re always so tasty and pair perfectly with whatever else is being made for dinner that night

they all help out with everything (both in the kitchen and with tasks around the farm) especially when it’s time to harvest the fields and it’s all hands on deck to get everything done, but in my mind these are their main tasks/favourite things to do around their little country farm <3

#can you tell i grew up reading enid blyton’s children of cherry tree farm series KSHDHDJDJ #my uncle and aunt also had a farm we’d visit every couple weeks and i miss it :( but they’ve got a new farm and it’s GREAT #we’ve got a sheep called hickey :) #ANYWAY #i have so many thoughts about this so if anyone wants to enable any further ramblings PLEASE PLEASE DO #husband headcanons #the band ghost #all the impera ghouls are here #nameless ghouls #farm ghouls au

[strid3rofthen0rth]

I have my nice little power rack and bench, jump rope and heavy bag setup here. Adjustable dumbbells. In the uninsulated part of the old dairy barn, which I like. Nobody bugs you when it's -20 or 95.

But there is a powerlifting gym in a little town near here with a glowing reputation. So I thought I'd check it out today after work.

Normally, I hate these places. In my experience, in rural areas, gyms like this, you wouldn't be surprised to find a fascist flag or three sloppily stapled to plywood cladding, and that energy of... hang on...

It's honestly the energy of big giant dudes who know enough to know they don't quite fit in the world, but they don't know how to assimilate. Drop sets and diffuse frustration.

Not this one. I talked to the owner for a bit. Big huggy fucker with a giant beard. Holy shit. Long lost brother?

He has two grown Down syndrome powerlifting kids. Special Olympics medalists. He told me the mission statement of the gym.

Everyone can be strong.

I signed up im-fucking-ediately. That's an energy I can work with.

I'll still work in the barn a lot, but maybe I can find a place to fit in there on occasion.

[erodasfishtacos]

xowboyrry when yn gets her period and isn’t pregnant

The Styles’ Farm sits on over 400 hundred acres of land, they sell their produce of fruits and vegetables, dairy products from their cows and goats, their flowers that grow in the cultivated fields among other things that lead them to being so successful.

They ship out most of their products to stores in the bigger surrounding city but also have a little shop where locals can stop in to buy things as well - YN runs it during the day.

Harry is hard to find during the day because he can be a few feet from the house or he could be miles away working on something.

Today, he happened to be stopping a closer barn after he’d spent most the day getting a goat’s horns untangled from an iron fence and now he had to fix a leak in one of their water pumps.

“Excuse me, Harry!” A voice grabs his attention from across the way, it was Mrs. Patterson with a basket full of vegetables and a few other small items.

“Hello there,” He greets, tucking his gloves into his back pocket - ignoring the way the old woman gazes at his body up and down, “What can I do for you, Mrs. Patterson?”

“Sorry to be a bother, dear. I was waiting around for your lovely wife, so I could pay you for these goods but she hasn’t been around. I left the money on the counter but didn’t want anyone to think I was stealing,” She tells him with soft, concerned eyesight and a pat to his arm.

“You haven’t seen her?” Harry repeats with a furrowed brow, “She should be in the shop today. I’ll go check on her. Thank you for your business, if you stop by tomorrow we’ll have some fresh quail eggs.”

The gray woman nods before she’s walking back to her truck and Harry’s stepping into the shop to double check she wasn’t in there.

His concern is skyrocketing when he realizes something may be wrong, he’s nearly running to their home, and as soon as he’s in the cool, air-conditioned space he’s shouting, “Sweet pea? Are you in here? Where have ya’ gone, sugar?”

“Up here,” He hears a faint reply but it sounds like she’s crying and so he’s taking the stairs by two until he’s at their bedroom.

She must be in the bathroom adjoined to their room because the door is shut and when Harry goes to open it, it’s locked.

“Darlin’, what’s going on? Open the door for me, s’just your husband. C’mon, don’t be stubborn,” Harry coaxes as waits against the wood door with a sigh.

“I just want to be left alone,” YN replies weakly, Harry knows by that tone that she really doesn’t want to be left alone.

“And I want to see my wife,” Harry responds a bit more firmly, “S’my job to make sure my wife is okay and I need you to let me do my job, pea. Be a good girl for me.”

YN rustles a bit before she’s opening the door, eyes puffy and swollen from tears as she wipes her face with a cloth.

Harry steps forward, boots loud against the old floorboards as he cups her face between his calloused hands and murmurs, “Honey, what’s this for? Why didn’t you come get me?”

YN shakes her head, “You have more important things to deal with than my stupid emotions.”

“They’re not stupid, don’t you ever say that,” Harry rebukes sternly, his mossy green eyes serious as he leans in to kiss his wife’s nose and when he pulls back, he catches a glimpse out of the corner of his eye.

A box of pads, a few waded up pieces of bloody toilet tissue in the waste bin - her period had come and she wasn’t pregnant.

“Oh, sugar,” Harry hums when he realizes, his lips peppering kisses all over her face, “Just not this month, yeah? Doesn’t mean anything except we keep trying.”

“Yo-you work so hard, everyday to provide for me, and I can’t give you the one thing my stupid fucking body is supposed to do!” YN cries with fierce tears as she lets the emotion overwhelm her.

“Whoa, now. That’s not how this is going,” Harry replies with a sharp edge, he’s gently but assertively guiding her out of the bathroom and onto the end until she’s laid back - he’s not wasting anytime in tugging the sundress over her head until she only has on her underwear, “You’re body is more than just for babies.”

Harry doesn’t care that they’ll have to change the sheets later when he kneels over her in his dirty jeans and flannel - he kisses her lips before his lips are moving down the column on her neck, big hands massaging her bruised tummy.

“I love this body so much. It shatters my heart when you talk bad about it, pea,” Harry murmurs as his lips trail across her chest, making her taking in a big inhale as his breath teases over her nipples, “I’ll love and provide for you until we’re a hundred and five, whether we have kids or don’t. My love for you isn’t dependent on this.”

YN is still crying but now they’re just…somewhat happy tears because she loves her husband so fucking much.

She didn’t know what she did to deserve his love.

“I’m sorry, I’m distracted you from work,” YN mumbles sheepishly, embarrassed as he pecks her nipples before trailing down to her belly.

“Sugar, you need to get me when you feel this way,” Harry reminds her, “You don’t have to deal with it alone. I’m always here for you.”

YN has to admit that him being so loving, so affectionate right now - it has her wanting to wriggle her hips and spread open for him even though he’s not looking for that.

When he’s about to lift his head up, to most likely kiss her, she moves the hand that’s resting in her belly down to her panties.

“That’s not why I was loving up on you, darling,” Harry says quietly, his fingers tracing at the little bow on the trim of her underwear, “Just want you to know I love you, through everything.”

“I know, I know that’s not why,” YN tells him, “Want you to make me feel better this way. Unless you don’t want to-“

Harry startles a giggle out of YN when he jolts up to kiss her hard, biting at her lip before chuckling against her lips, “I’d be a mad man to turn down a chance to please my pretty wife.”

The good thing about Harry is nothing grossed him out or even phased him, growing up on a farm - he saw everything and anything so he didn’t even think twice about a bit of blood.

“If you want me home at a good time, we got to make this quick, pea,” Harry rasps as he undies his thick leather belt and tugs them down just enough to pull himself out.

“I know, just want to come and take a nap,” YN whines a bit brattily as he shimmies off her underwear until she’s bare.

“Spoiled lil’ thing you are, m’so fucking gone for you,” Harry laughs to himself as he hikes her thighs up and guides himself in, moaning at how fiery warm her walls are.

“H,” YN mewls as he fucks into her, hitting her spot dead on, and without miss - he’s so strong, forceful, and YN is quite sure he’s the sexiest man to exist.

“Give it to me,” Harry rumbles as his hand sucks down to rub at her swollen bud, “Squeeze on me, let me feel that pretty cunt.”

It doesn’t take long with his dirty words for YN to do as he asks, spasms around him which spurs his orgasm to overtake him too.

He cleans her up, the himself before he’s tucking her into their bed on clean sheets that he changed, and he’s back into the fields for another eight or so hours.

Some may call it a simple life but fuck, it was the only one Harry wanted.

#harry styles #update #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #cowboyrry #cowboy!au #cowboy!harry

[aviationgeek71]

An Ole Barn's Tale

Embracing an old barn's perspective—a journey to a bygone era—through a portal of memories...

A view through my grandparent's old dairy barn. Zanesville, Ohio. March 22, 2024.

By @aviationgeek71

#old barn #black and white photography #barn #my photography #my writing #my photo #original writing #original photography

[ckret2]

Couple extra words I spotted: "Were doors even real? Were they were just illusions that looked and felt like solid walls until you tried to pass through them?" "Dude, the way you keep talking, I'm pretty sure this is whole thing is this close to being illegal." Also, I feel like Fiddleford is more hillbilly than redneck? But that's not a spelling/grammar error and I don't know enough about either to be sure, so.

Thanks!! Both have been fixed.

Speaking as a resident deep in redneck country who's spent 30+ years surrounded on all sides by self-identified rednecks: you're right, his overall aesthetic as a person is more what people would associate with "hillbilly." I went with "redneck" to describe his lab for two reasons:

The connotations of "hillbilly" are "technologically-backwards Appalachian poor white guy." The connotations of "redneck" are "rural Deep South poor white guy (probably a farmer)." The aesthetic I'm trying to call to mind with his mad scientist lab—machinery cobbled together out of junkyard parts like old cars—is closer to "farms with rusted-out old tractors and cars that I pass when I'm driving between towns" or "junk I have personally seen in my uncle's dairy barn" or "insanely modded trucks for mud racing" than it is to what's called to mind when people think of Appalachia.

Fiddleford's aesthetic is hillbilly; but his aesthetic is also "Old West prospector," which. He isn't. Culturally, he grew up on a pig farm in Tennessee. Pig farm probably ain't up in the mountains. His geography has him straddling right on the line between "technically just outside Appalachia" and "part of the South depending on who you ask." To my mind "hog farmer" tips his background over slightly stronger to "redneck" than "hillbilly," but like, only by 5%.

So I think both descriptors could fit him situationally depending on the context and what's being emphasized. In this context, that one fit the image I was trying to emphasize better. But I use both in various places; in an upcoming chapter Bill snidely refers to him as "the Beverly Hillbilly," which is an absolutely devastating zinger assuming you're familiar with 1960s sitcoms.

#signalfirefly #ask #about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[jungle-angel]

The Animal Doctor Is In (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You and Rhett love when spring comes, but it's also when the house is at its busiest

Warnings: Parenthood, animal care, Rhett being Snow White coded

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @sebsxphia @bradleybeachbabe @bradshawsbaby @rhettabbotts

You and Rhett were always happiest when spring rolled around, the land bursting with green, the buds on the trees popping and the garden sprouting back to life.

The house however, had become busier than usual with the arrival of all the new baby animals both on and off the Abbott land. So far, your makeshift nursery had consisted of a little dairy calf, a piglet who had been the runt of his litter, a male and female chihuahua who had been strays on the streets and two bunny rabbits who had yet to be introduced to the hutch, both the chihuahua and the female bunny ready to birth their litters any day now.

You were hard at work trying to feed the little calf that you and Rhett had carried into the house after she couldn't nurse from her mother. She sucked back her bottle like it was going out of style which made you laugh a little bit, when all of a sudden, Rhett came in through the mudroom with a cardboard box.

"Any more coming in?" you asked.

"Yep," Rhett answered. "Box of orphaned kittens found down by the library."

You helped the calf finish her bottle and went to see to the kittens who couldn't have been more than a few days old. They were so tiny, mewing like crazy as Rhett looked them over.

"Oh my Lord," Cecelia chuckled. "What'd Grumpy bring home now?"

"Found'em down by the library, Ma," he answered.

"Alright," Cecelia said. "I'm gonna go get Birdie out of the barn and see if she'll take to'em. Zipper won't be too happy. I'd see about Tiny and Willie, but they've just had a litter and can't do it."

You both waited for Cecelia to come back with the male and female barn cats and sure enough, Birdie took to them as though they were her own. Zipper, her mate, had gotten a rather funny look in his eyes which made you both laugh.

All day long, you and Rhett worked away to make sure the animals got what they needed. It was tiring at times, but worth it in the end. Birdie and Zipper didn't once leave their little cat pen or the kittens, not even when you let the dogs and the calf out into the yard to do their business. Pinky and Alberto were comfortable and content in their little box until after dinner when Alberto came charging up the stairs, yipping for you and Rhett to come downstairs. In less than an hour, Pinky had given birth to ten pups, each of them tiny, but adorable nonetheless. Not long after that came the bunnies, leaving you and Rhett to stay up well into the night to help.

By the next morning when Amy wakes up, you bring her downstairs to see the new babies and for as much as she'd like to pet them, you and Rhett aren't going to let her since she's still learning to be gentle. Sure, spring is chaotic, but as far as you and Rhett are concerned, it will always be your favorite time of year.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #amy abbott #outer range