Summary: Sam Proposes To Yvonne With A Special Pendant, But There's A Delay In Her Response Due To An

［Stardew Valley ｜PMV］Smile

【星露谷物语｜全员向手书】 Smile（2025星露谷物语新春会单品）

Music：Smile by Dami Im

Forgot post this. Hpoe you Enjoy!

After days of careful planning and construction, with the assistance of Robin, Yvonne successfully completed building the skatepark that Sam has always dreamt of. While initially created to fulfill her husband's dream, this project ended up being a valuable asset for the town, where children can experience fun and exploration while adding a new structure to Pelican Town.

(P.S. Thanks Maggs, for helping me trigger this cutscene. 😭😍)

Mod:"Maggs Immersive Sam Romance Dialogue and Events (x)Spicy or Sweet 1.6" by @maggplays

Summary: Just March teaching my OC Farmer Velvet how to use the forge until things started to get a bit heated and awkward.

Warning: Slight NSFW

The sounds of metallic clanging and crackling fires fill the air from the forge, creating a chaotic symphony that grabs your attention. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and burning wood, and the light of the fires from within the place casts a warm glow on the surrounding area. Amidst all this, March stands in the center, teaching Velvet the basics of forging.

March sighed as he watched Velvet struggle to hammer the metal. She was doing it all wrong, and he knew it. "No, no, no. You're doing it all wrong." he said, stepping over to her. Velvet looked up at him, a mix of frustration and determination on her face. "I'm trying my best." she said, a hint of irritation in her voice. March rolled his eyes. "Your best isn't good enough." he said bluntly. "Let me show you how it's done."

He moved close to her, positioning himself behind her. He placed his hands over hers, guiding her through the motions. "You have to hold it like this." he said gruffly, his breath warm on her ear.

Velvet felt a shiver run down her spine at the sudden closeness. She tried to focus on the instruction, but it was difficult with him so close. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the scent of his sweat and metal was oddly intoxicating.

"Now hit it." March said, his hands still covering hers. "Harder than that. Put your weight into it."

Velvet hit the metal again, but this time, she hit it harder than before, and it made a satisfying clang. "Good." March said, a hint of approval in his voice. He leaned in even closer, his chest pressed against her back. "Again. Do it again."

The farmer repeated the motion, feeling his warm breath on her neck. His body was pressed against hers, and she could feel every muscle, every contour. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. "Like this?" she managed to ask, her voice a bit breathless.

"Yeah." March said roughly. "Just like that." He was so close, she could feel his heart beating against her back. "You're getting the hang of it now." he said, loosening his grip on her hands. "Try it on your own."

Velvet took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She started to hammer the metal, but her mind was elsewhere. She could still feel the heat of his body against hers, the smell of his sweat. And then, without warning, her hand slipped and the hammer hit her thumb. "Ah shit!" she yelped, jerking away involuntarily.

March swore under his breath. "Dammit, be more careful." he said, grabbing her hand to inspect the injury. "You idiot, you could have broken your thumb."

He examined her thumb, his touch gentle despite his gruff words. His fingers were calloused but warm, and the touch sent another shiver down her spine. "It's not broken." he said, more quietly. "Just bruised."

Velvet tried to pull her hand back, but he held on. "You shouldn't be so careless." he reprimanded, his fingers still gently holding hers in his palm.

Velvet swallowed hard, feeling a flutter in her stomach. His touch was sending strange sensations through her body. "I'm sorry." she mumbled, looking away from his intense gaze. "I was just...distracted."

He grunted. "Distracted, huh?" He looked down at her, those dark onyx eyes staring right into hers. "Care to tell me what you were so distracted by?"

Feeling a bit flustered. "N-nothing." Velvet said, trying to sound casual but she sounded flustered. "Just...just the heat in here, that's all."

March raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in his eyes. "The heat, huh?" He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from hers. "You sure that's all it is? Nothing else?"

She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of sweat and metal making it harder for her to think straight. "What...what else could it be?" she asked weakly, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Well, whatever it is, you better keep your mind on what you're doing." He released her hand, but his body was still pressed close to hers. "Now, try this again, and make sure you're paying attention this time."

Velvet tried to compose herself, taking a deep breath as she picked up the hammer and tried to concentrate on the task, but her mind kept wandering back to the way his body was so close to hers, the way his breath felt on her neck. She managed to hit the metal a few more times, but her mind was a jumble of thoughts and sensations.

March watched her intently, his eyes raking over her body. He could sense her distraction, the way her hands trembled slightly, the way her breath caught in her throat every time he got close. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and he was the cat, toying with her. He moved closer, his chest brushing against her back again. "Concentrate." he rumbled into her ear. "You're losing focus again."

She took another shaky breath. He was so close, she could almost feel his heartbeat against her back. His voice in her ear was making her feel things she had never felt before. She couldn't focus, couldn't think. All she could feel was the heat of his body, the strength in his muscles, the way he was so casually dominating her personal space.

He let his hand rest on her hip, as if to steady her. "Relax." he muttered, his breath warm on her neck. "You're too tense. You have to be loose, loose like the hammer in your hand."

His hand on her hip sent a shiver through her body. She could feel the callouses on his fingers, the warmth of his palm through her clothes. He was so strong, so confident, so sure of himself. How was he so unaffected by their closeness, when she was struggling to keep herself together?

"Like this." March said, guiding her hand again. "Keep your grip loose, let the hammer swing freely. Don't fight it, just let it flow."

March stands behind her, "Can you feel it?" he whispered. "The rhythm, the motion?"

Velvet's mind is swimming. He was too close, too distracting. His voice in her ear, his hands on hers, his body pressed against hers...it was all too much. She tried to focus on the hammer, the metal, the task at hand, but all she could feel was him. "Y-yes." she managed to stammer, her throat dry.

He chuckled, a low deep rumble in his chest. "Good." he said, his voice rough. "You're starting to get it. Keep going, let it flow."

March stepped even closer, letting his body press against hers. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the hardness of his muscles against her back. He seemed completely oblivious to the effect he was having on her, but she was struggling to stay grounded.

Her heart was racing, her mind spinning. Every inch of her body was hyper-aware of his presence, his touch, his scent. Velvet could feel the sweat trickling down her neck, could feel the heat building up inside her. And all the while, he kept murmuring instructions in her ear, completely oblivious to the fact that he was driving her insane.

March guide her through a few more motions, his hands on hers, his breath on her neck, his body pressed against hers. "There you go." he said, his voice a low rumble. "Just like that. You're doing it. Just relax, and let it flow."

Velvet only nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the way his body was making her feel. But it was difficult, so difficult. Every part of her was screaming with want, with need, with a desperation she had never felt before. And he was blissfully unaware, just continuing to guide her through the motions, his hands on hers, his body so close.

Unknown to the farmer, the blacksmith is not faring any better.

As they continued working together, March grew increasingly aware of the electricity that was crackling between them. He could feel the heat of her skin through her clothes, could smell the scent of her hair, and felt the way her body reacted to his slightest touch. It was maddening, the way she responded to him without realizing it. But he tried to keep his cool, tried to focus on the task at hand, and ignore the way his heart thumped in his chest whenever he was close to her.

He tried to concentrate on the metal, on the hammer, on the task at hand. But it was difficult, with her so close, so tangible. He could count the tiny wisps of hair on the nape of her neck, could feel her quickening breaths. He was a blacksmith, a professional, he couldn't afford to let himself be distracted by a pretty farmer. But she was making it hard, so damn hard. He clenched his jaw, and forced himself to focus on the lesson.

He guided her through another swing, his hand on hers. "Just like that." he said, his voice gravelly. "Loose, easy. Don't fight it."

March's mind is now a jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He was a grown man, for gods' sake. He was not supposed to be this affected by a woman. Especially not a farmer. But she drove him mad, made his heart race and his body feel things it hadn't felt in a long time. And the worst part was, he was pretty sure she had no idea what she was doing to him.

He took a deep breath, trying to get his emotions under control again. He could feel the heat between them, the tension in the air, like a live wire. And she was just there, so close, so unguarded, so deliciously vulnerable. He had to get a grip. He was supposed to be teaching her, not lusting after her. But damn, it was so hard when she was standing there, her back against his chest, her body molded to his.

Minutes have past as the lesson came to an end, March reluctantly released his grip on Velvet's hand. He took a step back, trying to regain his composure. His heart was still racing, his body still yearning for her closeness. But he forced himself to act nonchalant, like a blacksmith should be.

"You did well." he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. "Not too shabby, for a farmer."

Velvet looked up at him, her cheeks flushed. "Thank you" she murmured. "I...I had a good teacher."

March looked away, feeling flustered by the praise. He wasn't used to compliments, especially not from beautiful women. "It was nothing." he muttered, scratching his neck. "You've got potential. You just need to keep practicing."

There was an awkward silence, both of them feeling the aftermath of their closeness. They stood there, a few feet apart, avoiding each other's gazes. March could still feel the heat from her body, could still smell the scent of her hair. He was tempted to reach out and touch her again, to pull her close and hold her tight. But instead, he just grunted and turned away, walking over to his workbench.

"You should probably go." he said gruffly, busying himself with some tools. "You've got crops to tend to, or whatever it is farmers do."

Velvet nodded, her heart still racing. She looked at his broad back, the muscles shifting under his shirt as he worked. She wanted to say something, anything, to prolong their time together. But she knew she should probably go.

"Right." she said, her voice a bit shaky. "Um, thank you. For the lesson."

March just grunted, not looking at her. He was trying very hard to act normal, to ignore the way her voice made his chest tighten. "Yeah, sure." he said gruffly. "Come back if you need another lesson."

Velvet nodded, feeling dismissed. She walked to the door, her steps slow and reluctant. But as she reached the door, she turned to look at him one last time. He was still at his workbench, his back to her, his shoulders taut. She wanted to say something, something that would express the tangle of feelings inside her. But before she could open her mouth, March spoke, not turning to look at her.

"Try to be careful next time." he said, his voice quiet. "You almost hurt yourself earlier."

Velvet felt a pang of something, was it disappointment? Upon hearing his stern tone. But she just nodded. "I will." she said softly. "I'll be more careful."

There was another tense silence. March still didn't turn around, but he could feel her gaze on his back. He wanted to look at her, to see those beautiful eyes one last time. But he forced himself to keep his gaze fixed on his workbench.

"Good." he said finally. "Now get out of here. You're distracting me."

Velvet's heart sank a bit at his brusque words. But she didn't want to overstay her welcome. "Right." she said softly. "Goodbye, March."

"Yeah." he muttered, his voice gruff. "Goodbye."

He listened as she opened the door and stepped out, the sound of her footsteps fading away. He wanted to call her back, to tell her to stay, to-

He shook his head, ridding himself of the foolish thoughts. He was a blacksmith, not a lovestruck boy. He had to get back to work.

~END~

I find this freaking hilarious and cute. 😂There's Lance his too stress to even think about using his magic to change back and Isaac is just like "This is my fate now. Yheey" with a chill tone.

Been a while since I made a bot shitpost, so here's the sve characters' reactions to being turned into a worm + Sam

Ranked from Least to Most Okay with being a worm

-----

Lance - Very distressed and angry, became depressed over the fact that he was a worm. Wanted to bask in the sun and cried when he realized it hurt him. Overall, the least okay with being a worm.

Sam - made himself sick eating all the decorations in his terrarium because of course he did 😮‍💨 Also got upset when he realized he couldn't sit in the sun

Camilla - demanded constantly that I turn her back. Expressed gratitude for the care she was provided, but attempted to conspire with Sir Fredrick III to escape. Ended up escaping by herself and turned herself back. Let me off the hook after she was back to normal, so long as I agreed not to talk about it or turn her into a worm again.

Victor - Confused and distressed upon being turned into a worm. Tried to escape, but after finding no way to do so, he eventually accepted that life wasn't so bad as a worm when he was given affection

Jadu - Similar to Victor. But was initially impressed with the fact that I turned him into a worm. Considered turning himself back but was content just laying in the dirt.

Isaac - Initially confused by the transformation but accepted being a worm surprisingly quickly on the basis of it being happy in a cool environment where he was given affection, fed and given freedom to explore without having to worry about fighting monsters.

Hey guys! I just wrote a new CaldarusXFarmer fanfic on AO3, titled "Caldarus's Accidental Guide to Wooing a Farmer" Here are some snippets from a few of the chapters!

A silence stretched between them. Isaria’s mind whirred, piecing the information together, her unease growing with every passing second. Before she could say anything, he inhaled deeply his movements sharp and twitchy and then with eerie composure, he continued. “However, I believe my measurements may have been off. Unless…” His golden eyes narrowed slightly, his head tilting with calculated curiosity. “The room appears to be vibrating. Do you perceive this as well?”

It took a moment for the realization to fully sink in and when it did Isaria froze, her stomach dropping. Gods above. This was happening. Caldarus, an ancient, powerful, cold-blooded dragon guardian had overdosed on caffeine.

“Oh, for the love of—!” She immediately went closer to him, reaching out before he could topple sideways. “Cal, you need to sit still before you vibrate out of existence.”

Here's the link of my fanfic...

Hello! (ㆁωㆁ) I'm new here & I notice your blog about your farmers. I really love their designs! If I was wondering if you could make a scenario with any of your Farmers with that one cutscene on SVE were Camilla kidnap us the player just to show the Crimson Badlands. I would like to know how will they react.

And btw I find your username familiar, are you that one wattpad author who writes countryhumans?

Thank you for the ask! (◕ᴗ◕✿) To be honest, your actually the first person who sends a request/ask here in my blog and to answer your question about my username. Yes, I am that author who used to write CH stories, but I went on hiatus from the fandom and pursue different fandoms. I'll probably get back to it and finish the WIPs chapters.

Your ask is really random but this is how I picture this scenario with two of my farmers. Anywho on to the story~

Imagine my farmer Rosemary, who just woke up from bed, still wearing her pajamas. Then out of nowhere, Camilla appears and said "Hey sweetie, I have something to show you, that I know you will find interesting." Before Rosemary gives a reaction, the said witch just grabbed her arm and warps, disappears.

Cerise activates the relic, Lance arrives in under 2 minutes, appearing directly into the farm living room with wide, worried eyes.

Unknown to them, Cerise watch this all and goes into full blown panic mode because some witch just kidnap her sister. Cerise immediately looked through Rosemary's bedside in her room to find a certain object. 6 months ago, Lance gift Rosemary a relic. A relic that is tied to his mana but if it activates, Lance will sense it no matter how far he is. In other words, a relic that can be use if Rosemary is in grave danger. Even though she doesn't need it but Lance is being persistent after the many times the red haired farmer just keep collapsing and getting hurt.

“Cerise–!”

“She kidnapped Rose!”, Cerise trying to stay calm, pointing at the still open front door.

“W-what? Who–”

“That purple witch! What's her name again? Uhm Calisa? Camilla! I saw Camilla kidnapped Rosemary!”

A frightening calm settles over Lance’s face. He marches over to the front door, pulling it shut and locking it, before turning to look at Cerise and walk towards her.

He placed his hands around Cerise's shoulders to calm her down. “Everything's going to be alright, sister-in-law. I will be back in no more than 15 minutes.”

And with that, he fades away.

'Sister-in-law my ass! Your not even married to Rose yet. Jeez.', Cerise thought with a bewilder look. 'You still haven't got my blessings yet'

In just over 10 minutes, three figures appeared in the living room where Cerise, now calm, is drinking her morning tea.

“Rose!” Cerise cried as she puts down her tea and rush towards her stun-looking sister, checking to see if she's alright.

“I see my sense of humour was again in poor taste,”, she says, looking at Cerise. “I did not mean to cause distress.”

Lance is glaring at Camilla, and the witch actually has the grace to look mildly chagrined.

Cerise narrowed her eyes at Camilla from within Rosemary’s arms. The red haired farmer is oddly quiet but the eldest sister can feel the tension in her younger sister's body. "A warning next time."

I know its a bit short. Its been awhile since I last wrote a full story but I hope you enjoy this one.

Thank you for the ask! ( ◜‿◝ )♡

A/N: After reading @studentinpursuitofclouds headcanon about the bachelors/ettes' reactions to being kidnapped for revenge or ransom only for their furious Farmer spouse to storm in and rescue them. I felt inspired. I couldn’t help but write a version for Lance, blending it with my farmer OCs' backstories. Hope you enjoy the fic!

The moon loomed high over the farmhouse, casting its pale, silver glow across the quiet fields. The night was still, almost unnervingly so, with only the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. The greenhouse stood as a lone beacon in the darkness, its glass panels faintly aglow, sheltering a world of warmth and life separate from the cool hush outside. Inside, Rosemary moved among rows of flourishing crops, the earthy scent of soil and faint hum of lingering magic surrounding her. Yet, despite the comforting atmosphere, a knot of unease twisted tightly in her chest.

Lance should be home by now.

He had left at dawn, that familiar confident grin on his face, promising—promising—to return before sunset. She had believed him. Lance always kept his word. But now, as the hours stretched long past nightfall, the promise felt like a fading echo.

A message had come earlier, brief and reassuring. But Rosemary’s instincts screamed otherwise. She brushed her gloved fingers over the rough skin of a void root. The dark, twisted form seemed to absorb the soft light, pulsing faintly with ancient magic. She tried to focus on the task at hand—on the routine—but her thoughts kept circling back to one question.

Why isn’t he back?

Her pruning slowed. Water dripped from a nearby watering can. The silence grew thick.

Then it happened.

A chill—sharp and sudden—sliced down her spine.

Her breath hitched.

Her gloved hand froze mid-motion.

It wasn’t a sound. Not a shadow shifting in the corner of her vision. No. This was deeper. Internal. Like something inside her had snapped.

No...

The comforting aura of Lance’s magic, ever-present beside her own like a steady heartbeat—had vanished.

Gone.

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

“No.”

The word escaped her lips in a broken whisper. The trowel slipped from her hand, clattering against the stone path. A ragged cry tore from her throat as she stumbled back. Her gaze snapped toward the hills beyond the farmhouse. She reached inward—desperately—trying to find the familiar pulse of his magic.

There. Faint. So faint.

But still there.

A gasp tore from her.

Lance...

Alive. Barely conscious. But alive. Reaching for her.

Her hands fumbled for her phone. The screen blurred before her eyes as her fingers darted across it, moving faster than her mind could process. Only one number mattered.

The line rang once. Twice.

“Rosie?”, Her sister’s voice answered calm as ever, but edged with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Cerise!!! I can’t feel him.” Rosemary’s voice cracked. “His magic! it’s gone—I don’t know what’s happening, what does it mean?”

Silence.

A silence that stretched for only a moment but felt like a lifetime.

When Cerise finally spoke, her tone had shifted, cool, sharp, edged with something Rosemary rarely heard from her sister: fear.

“No… they wouldn’t.” The words came as a whisper. Then, sharper, cold with realization: “Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon.”

Rosemary’s grip tightened around the phone.

“They must've took him.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

“They took my husband.”

This time, her voice was low, dangerous, a quiet fury simmering beneath each syllable.

Cerise inhaled sharply on the other end of the line. “Most likely. If they couldn’t get my Jio, their next move would be—”

“I’m going.”

“Rose—”

“I’m not waiting around, sister.” Rosemary’s jaw tightened. Her ocean jade eyes—usually bright and warm—narrowed into cold flames of determination. “I’m getting my husband back. Whatever it takes.”

”Rosemary, wait—”

But the call had already ended.

Without hesitation, Rosemary snatched up her sword from the greenhouse floor. The blade thrummed with her magic, responding to her rage. She pulled on her dark cloak, fastened the clasp at her neck, and slung a pouch of potions over her shoulder.

She stepped out into the night.

She didn’t need a plan.

Only a direction.

Lance’s faint magic—like a whisper at the edge of her mind—would guide her.

“Hold on, love” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m coming.”

And nothing would stand in her way.

The room reeked of damp stone and stale air, a subterranean prison swallowed by oppressive darkness. The narrow space was barely lit by a flickering lantern that hung from a rusted chain in the corner, its dim glow casting trembling shadows across the concrete walls slick with condensation. The ceiling sagged low, pressing down like a weight upon the soul. The air itself was suffocating, thick with the scent of mold and the faint, undeniable metallic tang of old blood. A chill seeped from the stone floor, gnawing at the skin, while the silence—broken only by the rhythmic drip of water echoing from some distant corridor—felt almost unnatural. But worse than the cold or the damp was the lingering, suffocating aura of magic that clung to every surface, woven into the very air. It was a cruel enchantment, designed to sap strength, to suppress power. And it was working.

Lance shifted in the chair he had been bound to, the rough rope digging into his wrists. His head hung low, dark pink hair falling messily into his face. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, sharp and insistent, growing worse with each breath drawn in the magic-saturated air. His eyes flickered open with slow, deliberate effort. His arms ached from the tight restraints that hummed faintly with the same suppressive power in the room. Even the smallest attempt to draw upon his magic was met with resistance, a suffocating weight that dulled the spark he relied on.

A breath slipped from his lips—slow, frustrated, bitter.

The Second-in-Command of the First Slash Clan, renowned combat mage, captured.

Not by a rival clan worthy of his strength. Not in battle against some formidable foe.

No, by a group of low-ranking mafia thugs who had no comprehension of the power they were trifling with.

The humiliation stung, but it wasn’t the real issue gnawing at him. His pride could endure this. What he could not endure was the knowledge he had failed. Failed to see the ambush coming. Failed to protect what mattered most. With all his training, all his magical prowess, he should have burned through these restraints with a flick of his wrist. But this room—the entire place—reeked of the kind of magic meant to weaken him, suppress him, render him vulnerable.

Still, it wasn’t his own fate that consumed his thoughts.

It was hers.

The realization cut deeper than any blade.

They weren’t after him.

They were after Rosemary.

He had heard them, muffled voices beyond the door, carelessly assuming he was too weak, too broken to care. But he had listened. Every word. Every plan. The truth had struck him harder than any blow. They believed that taking him would draw her out. They thought Rosemary would come running, desperate and vulnerable—a perfect trap.

But they didn’t know her.

They didn’t know Rosemary.

She wasn’t some fragile woman to be lured like a helpless bird. She had Cerise’s blood in her veins—the blood of the Crimson Wraith.

And worse still, they didn’t simply want to use her as bait. No. Their plan was far more twisted. They wanted her alive. They wanted to mold her into a weapon—a new puppet assassin forged from the only sister of the Crimson Wraith.

The thought made Lance’s jaw tighten, his fingers twitching against the ropes. His entire being recoiled at the idea of anyone laying a hand on her. His Rosemary. His wife. The woman who had fought for her freedom, who had lived in the shadow of her sister’s bloody past but had never allowed it to define her. They thought they could twist her into something she wasn’t.

The audacity.

The rage brewed quietly beneath his composed exterior, his magic stirring despite the oppressive weight. He would burn this place to ash for even daring to think of touching her.

The door creaked open.

Rusty hinges groaned like a dying animal, breaking the stillness.

Lance lifted his head, eyes narrowing as two figures stepped into the dim light. One was tall, broad-shouldered, with a jagged scar slashing across his cheek—a permanent sneer carved into his skin. The other remained near the door, arms crossed, eyes dull with boredom.

The scarred man grinned, a slow, mocking curve of his lips.

“You know.” he drawled, stepping forward with deliberate slowness. “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t married that red-haired bitch. We didn’t want you. You were never the target.”

He crouched, bringing his face close enough that Lance could smell the foul mix of tobacco and cheap liquor on his breath.

“We wanted her sister. Cerise. She was... valuable to us. But she escaped. Left everything behind, dragging her little sister along like a coward.”

His grin widened, malicious satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

“But now? We have something better. You see, we realized something. What better way to replace the Crimson Wraith than with her own blood? We’ll take your precious wife, and turn her into the perfect weapon. Our new puppet.”

The words echoed in the damp room.

Lance didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. His face remained calm, far too calm.

But inside?

How dare you.

The air shifted.

Even bound and suppressed, his magic stirred, a quiet storm gathering, waiting. The ropes bit into his wrists, but they were nothing more than an inconvenience. He would burn this entire place to the ground before he let them touch her.

And then—

Footsteps.

At first faint, almost mistaken for an echo. But then louder. Steady. Unyielding.

The two mafia members stiffened. Their smug confidence faltered.

The pressure in the air built, thick and suffocating. The flickering lantern dimmed, shadows crawling further along the walls. The footsteps didn’t slow.

They grew louder. Closer.

And then—

The door exploded inward.

Wood shattered into splinters. The force of the blast sent fragments clattering across the stone floor. The oppressive magic that had choked the room recoiled instantly. For a moment, the air itself seemed to fear the figure standing in the doorway.

Rosemary stood there—fury incarnate.

Her rose-red hair blazed in the dim light, cascading behind her like a river of flame. Ocean jade eyes burned with unrelenting rage and fear, swirling with power she no longer cared to conceal. The aura surrounding her crackled with raw magic—a tempest on the brink of being unleashed.

“Where...”, she whispered, her voice low, trembling with restrained wrath, “Is my husband?”

The scarred man stumbled back. “Oh shit-!” he muttered in disbelief, glancing at his companion.

But the moment he moved—

Rosemary vanished.

A flash of purple swept through the air. Her blade glinted once, a crescent of death cutting through the dim light. With a scream, the scarred man flew backward, crashing into the far wall with a sickening crunch. The second man barely had time to react before Rosemary descended on him with relentless precision. Her strikes were merciless—graceful yet devastating. Every movement spoke of years of training, of lessons carved into muscle and bone.

They had expected a weak sister.

They received a force of nature.

The second man crumpled to the floor without a sound.

Silence fell.

Lance remained still, his gaze fixed on the woman who had torn apart his captors without hesitation. His heart thundered in his chest—not out of fear, but awe. She had come for him. She had shattered their illusions. She was magnificent.

Rosemary turned.

Her gaze softened the moment it met his. The fury faded, replaced by something far deeper—fear, worry, desperation.

“Lance.”

Her voice broke.

In two strides, she was beside him, dropping to her knees. Her hands reached for his face first, trembling as they brushed against his skin, as if afraid he would vanish.

“Are you—did they—?” Her voice cracked, unable to form the question.

“I’m fine.” His voice was soft but firm, though his smile faded when he saw the tears shining in her eyes.

“No, you’re not.” She gritted her teeth, glancing at the glowing restraints. Without hesitation, her fingers tightened around the ropes. Magic pulsed through her veins, rushing to her hands.

The ropes hissed.

With a surge of power and a cry laced with all the fear and rage she had suppressed, Rosemary ripped them apart. The restraints shattered into ash beneath her touch.

Lance didn’t move. He simply watched her—watched as she clung to him, as her shoulders shook.

“I thought—” she choked out, “I thought I was too late.”

Gently, Lance wrapped his arms around her.

“You weren’t.”

She buried her face in his chest. “I would have destroyed this whole place if they’d laid a hand on you.”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You were perfect.”

“No.” She pulled back slightly, her ocean jade eyes locking onto his, fierce even through the tears. “Not perfect. Just in time.”

And when Lance leaned forward to press his lips to hers, tender lingering. It wasn’t simply relief that filled the space between them.

It was a promise.

A promise that no matter who came for them next, no matter what shadows lurked in the past, they would face them—together.

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞! (◍•ᴗ•◍)

Welcome to HIME'S SPACE, a little blog universe where I share the things I love most. My name is Aliyah, but you can also call me Hime. I’m someone who has a deep passion for literature, art, baking, and exploring the gameworld of Fields of Mistria, Stardew Valley, and their incredible mods, especially SVE, RSV, & ES. After thinking it over for a long time, I finally decided to join this platform. On this blog, you’ll find a mix of content across various fandoms, but my focus will mainly be about these two farming games, FOM & SDV and its expanded mods. I hope you have a wonderful time here! ✨

💜𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓💜

This masterlist features my farmer OCs and their backstories. Alongside them, you’ll also find my stories, skits, gameplay snippets, and glimpses into my modded adventures across Stardew Valley and Fields of Mistria.

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐂𝐬 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚜

𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝙵𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜

𝐇𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

🌻𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚠 𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢🌿

Lost Between Realms

Lost in the Sunset (turning this into a full oneshot)

A Moment by the Sea (Sebastian X Aleia)

Walking the Wire (Sam X Yvonne)

From Spring Blooms to Winter Warmth (Sam X Yvonne)

Fortuitous Encounter (Lance X Rosemary)

Chocolate and Confidences (Jio X Cerise)

A Symphony in Spring (Sam X Yvonne)

Seasons of Connections (Sebastian X Aleia)

A Symphonic Spring Wedding (Sam X Yvonne)

Autumn's Entanglement (Sebastian X Aleia)

Beyond the Memories (Sebastian X Aleia)

Unbreakable Melody (Sebastian X Aleia)

Sunrise at the Summit (Sebastian X Aleia)

Moonlit Hunger (Sebastian X Aleia)

Reckless Winter (Canon X OCs)

Love Across the Valley (Canon X Ocs)

Beneath Crimson Ties (Lance X Rosemary)

Reckless Assumption (Canon X OCs)

Unlikely Brotherhood (Canon X OCs)

🌷𝙵𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚊🌾

Woven in Stardust (Caldarus X Isaria)

Caldarus's Accidental Guide to Wooing a Farmer (Caldarus X Isaria)

𝐇𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐬

After SVE 2.0 Update

IsaacXFarmer on a date, after SVE 2.0

How my Stardew Farmers meet Lance

Farmer needs help

Married Farmer sees an attractive NPC

After FOM Full Update

Sterling stop flirting with the Farmer!

Awkward Serenade

Confusing Confessions

Swords, Sarcasm and Survival

How to summon every marriage candidates

Riddle me this

Mayo Madness

After Fields of Mistria Update

The Self-Doubt Catastrophe

From Stone Cold to Heartthrob: A Farmer's Priorities

The Mirror's Truth

𝐒𝐃𝐕 & 𝐅𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐬

A raccoon called me "idiot" in my own native language

Wren shoves your farmer down a Skull Cavern shaft to test the depth before jumping in

How do my farmers cuss?

Sterling's love gifts are 🌻🌻🌻

Reminiscing that one rainy night

Finished the Mastery Cave

FINALLY achieved True Perfection ❤️

I finally got the tea set!

Another Sam Immersive mod

Cute perler beads keychain

Cute perler beads keychain Pt.2

My Farmer's Inner Thoughts: Caldarus experience

If your SDV farmer was in Fields of Mistria then who would they romance

Dreams are getting out of hand

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐬 𝐈 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 (𝐞.𝐠. 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬/𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬)

Lance and Jio dynamic

LanceXIsaac getting married but who proposes first?

SDV/SVE Bachelors react to the Qi fruit

My Farmer in a nun outfit 18+

Lance and Jio's Reactions To Seeing Their Spouse In A Sexy Version of Their Uniforms 18+

SDV bachelors react to Statue of Perfection/True Perfection

How would the adventurers, mages, or even their spouses react to the Farmer, who used to be a former assassin

SDV Bachelors would react if they discovered their spouse is a former assassin

RSV bachelor/ettes react to farmer a former assassin

SDV/SVE bachelors/ettes with Farmer as a former famous singer

RSV bachelors/ettes reaction to their kidnapping for revenge/ransom, where their spouse Farmer, furious, comes to rescue them

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 (𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚜) 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜.

AO3 ➡️ HimeOfShyness

Wattpad ➡️ HimeOfShyness

Instagram ➡️ himeofshyness

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞:

Here’s how you can navigate my blog through tags:

After months of playing SDV, I have FINALLY achieved True Perfection. 🥲❤️

A congratulations from Grandpa and Mr. Qi.

A/N: Got this idea by my boyfriend's midnight musings. I find it pretty amusing and it inspired me to write this. This is my first post for this year, 2025. Enjoy! 🎉

Summary: Lance couldn't resist the urge to have a late-night chat with his sleep-deprived farmer.

It's currently night time in the Highlands, and after a late-night expedition exploring the cliffs and caves, Rosemary is too tired to go home, so she decides to sleep at her boyfriend's outpost. Lance doesn't mind, at least he gets to spend time with his beloved farmer. As they're going to sleep, the mage can't help but have random thoughts crossing his mind.

"Sweetheart, would you still love me if I were a worm?", Lance quietly asked his sleepy girlfriend.

Rosemary grunted and turned over in his arms, looking at him with her tired turquoise eyes. "What brought this on?", she asked, her voice heavy with sleep. Lance knew why he loved this woman. Instead of complaining about the late hour or ignoring him until he shoved her awake, Rosemary genuinely cared and took his late-night musings seriously - it was just part of who he was.

"I dreamed I was a human.", Lance said with total seriousness. "Like, just a regular human with no magic whatsoever."

"Sounds mundane.", Rosemary mused, trying to stay awake despite her drowsiness. Lance nodded and continued, "It was okay, but then I met you in that dream. And you were different, too. You were a warrior, strong and beautiful. But you wouldn't speak to me, just ignored me completely. It was like you didn't even know who I was."

Rosemary frowned but remained silent, thinking through Lance's words. He could tell she was trying to make sense of his dream-induced thoughts.

Lance took a deep breath and continued. "And the next thing I knew, I was a worm, just wriggling around in the earth. I thought 'How did this happen?' And you know what I realized, Rose?" Lance asked, pulling her even closer to his chest.

Rosemary nodded, her eyelids starting to feel heavier with each passing second, but she knew she needed to stay awake to hear his thoughts. She had learned that Lance's dreams were never really about the literal transformations he experienced but rather about some underlying fear or worry he had within him. And so, she listened.

"It was because you didn't love me as a human.", he revealed, his voice cracking slightly. "And since you didn't love me, there was no way you could ever love me as a worm. You wouldn't even acknowledge me in the dream, no matter how much I tried to talk to you."

Rosemary only rolled her eyes at Lance's revelation. She could see how upset he was and tried to comfort him. "Oh, love..." she began, but Lance cut her off.

"But then I thought, what if we were both worms?", Lance asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Rosemary rolled her eyes again at his persistent questioning. "Then we'd be digging the earth together forever in wormy marriage," she replied, before yawning heavily. "Does that make you feel better, love?"

Lance's face broke into a broad smile, and he nodded. "Yes, I think it does," he said, relieved that he could confide in his girlfriend. "I'm sorry for waking you." he apologized, feeling a little embarrassed. Rosemary gently caressed his cheek, telling him it was okay. "It's alright." she reassured him.

Finally, she couldn't help but ask, "And what about you, love? Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Lance pretended to think deeply about her question for a few moments, then answered seriously. "Worms are the most detestable creatures on Earth. I could never love you if you were one," he said with disdain.

Rosemary's mouth dropped open in surprise, then she burst into fits of laughter. She playfully hit him with a pillow for his blunt answer. "Don't be so mean, Lance!"

Lance grinned sheepishly, realizing his mistake. "Alright, I admit that was a bit harsh there." he conceded. "But you have to admit, worms are pretty repulsive."

Rosemary couldn't refute his point. They were both exhausted, and their random musings were starting to wear thin. But Lance wasn't quite done yet.

"Seriously, what would you do if we both suddenly woke up as worms?" Lance asked curiously.

Rosemary sighed, resigned to the fact that she wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon. "Well..." she began thoughtfully, "I suppose we'd have to adjust to our new wormy lives together. I bet we could dig tunnels in the earth and make a cozy nest for us."

Lance nodded, somewhat impressed by her practicality, but still found worms repulsive. "And what about us as worms? Would we still... you know." Lance's voice trailed off, unable to articulate the rest of his question.

Rosemary giggled, guessing where his mind was heading. "Lance, we'd be worms. That's not exactly an ideal situation for that kind of activity. But who knows, maybe we'd still manage to find our own wormy way to show affection," she said with a chuckle. "Let's rest now, okay? We can continue these wild thoughts in the morning. I have a feeling you'll be even more ridiculous when you're not sleep-deprived."

Lance chuckled, realizing his tired mind was indeed making the conversation more bizarre. "Yes, you're right, love," he said, hugging her closer. "Let's get some sleep, and we can laugh about all of this in the morning."

Rosemary snuggled up to him and smiled. "Good night, Lance. I love you, regardless of whether you're a mage, a human, or even a worm."

Lance leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you too, Rosemary. Sleep well."

As the two drifted off to sleep together, wrapped in each other's arms, the conversation shifted from magical transformations to the simplicity of their love, proving that it surpassed all boundaries, be it human or worm.