#hand valley point

[katieputnam18]

A system that maps different body parts to points on the hand. It is based on the principles of traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) and acupuncture therapy, which utilize a holistic approach to promote health and wellness.

The hand is a unique part of the body in that it contains numerous energy channels, or meridians, that correspond to specific organs and functions in the body. These channels connect the hand to different body parts and stimulate the flow of energy or "Qi."

[sdv-maru-appreciation]

Take a look at my WIFE

(She’s the only one I got (dadadada))

[axolotlesque]

the most unrealistic thing about stardew valley is that bread is a universally neutral gifting item

[moeblob]

I have had really low energy and haven't been playing much of anything but I did start a file on Switch for 1.6! Her name is Eve and she just showed up one day in winter and stays there with some chickens. Once she's able to buy seeds without raising suspicion though? She discovers farming is really fun.

[microwave-core]

my haley brain rot is terminal, sorry

[circletrapped]

Shattered

Elliott/GN!Farmer

2.8k words

Hurt/Comfort because I love Elliott so obviously I must make him Suffer, but also Fluff because I can’t stand to see him suffer

Rating: Teen+ (CW: Mentions of blood but nothing major).

Description: The Farmer has been spending a lot of time in the mines for reasons they won’t disclose to Elliott. Elliott, distracted by his worry, has an accident that sends him spiraling.

///

The rooster started its daily crowing session before the first rays of sunlight even peaked above the horizon. Elliott groaned. He hadn’t been able to sleep all night and instead had spent the last hour shifting his stare between the clock and the sky outside the window as it went from an inky black to a majestic blue. He looked back at the clock, which now read a quarter to six. He sighed, exhausted yet unable to sleep, and turned to face his slumbering spouse.

The Farmer had stumbled in about four hours ago, breathless and covered in dirt. They dropped their bag and gear at the foot of the bed, crawled in without changing and gave Elliott a half-hearted kiss on the cheek, then started snoring three minutes later. They had been doing this more and more frequently lately - but every day they would still wake up at six, kiss him, have a cup of coffee, stuff their bag full of food, kiss him again, run across the farm to feed the animals and water their crops, then disappear until well after dusk. If he was lucky, his spouse would give him one more kiss before leaving the farm. If he was unlucky, he’d be awakened in the middle of the night by rapping on his door and a very annoyed Harvey steadying them on his shoulder.

It was obvious the Farmer was spending their days in the mines. They would usually come home smelling like earth and hay (a smell which he didn’t mind and in fact was becoming quite fond of), but the smell of metal and dust clung to their clothes just as much as the blood and slime. It made him worry.

The mines were dangerous, and Elliott was very vocal about his apprehension.

“There are all kinds of monsters in there! What if you get lost, or run out of food, or get killed by something down there?”

“Elliott, relax,” the Farmer would insist, rolling their eyes, “I know what I’m doing. Besides, I know I’m close! I can feel it.”

“Close to what?”

The Farmer would clam up as soon as Elliott asked what they were doing in the mines so often. They would change the subject or distract him with kisses until they could slip away back into that wretched labyrinth.

Elliott once again sighed at the sight of his spouse, whom he loved so dearly and wanted nothing more than to beg to stay with him, where it was safe. But he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. The Farmer was strong and independent, knew their way around a sword, and could protect themself better than Elliott ever could in the mines.

Elliott slipped the pendant given to him by his beloved over his head then stood and got dressed in a comfortable turtleneck and slacks. He decided he would try to take his mind off his spouse’s recklessness by working on his new novel for the day. It was a story about a mermaid falling in love with the fisherman who caught her in his net.

He made his way to the kitchen to prepare coffee for him and his spouse - they were both going to need it. As he paced through the kitchen, biting on his thumbnail in a vain attempt to alleviate his anxiety, sunlight began to pour through the windows and illuminate the Farmer.

The farmer’s eyes tightened as they let out a sleepy groan and sat up, blinking the exhaustion away.

“Good morning, dear,” Elliott called to them. The Farmer smiled and faced him, eyes still half-shut and not quite focused.

“Mornin’,” they mumbled, rubbing their eyes before swinging their legs over the bed. They unbuttoned their shirt and tossed it toward the basket that was piled with dirty clothes above its rim. It fell about a foot short, to which the Farmer gave an annoyed grunt.

“I’ll take care of it,” Elliott said. “I’ve been meaning to wash those clothes for ages anyway. I’ve just been distracted.”

The Farmer, now wearing a clean pair of pants but still no shirt, strolled over and draped themself over Elliott’s back, giving him a peck on the cheek then resting their chin on his shoulder.

“Distracted by what?”

Elliott shot them a side-eye. “I think you already know.”

The Farmer laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re still worried about me going to the mines. I’ve made it home on my own every night this week!”

Elliott took the other cup of coffee off the counter and held it over his shoulder. The farmer released their grasp and took it, immediately bringing it to their lips.

“I know you’re capable of protecting yourself, but it’s still terrifying to think you could be alone unconscious in there for hours before someone finds you. How could I not worry?”

The Farmer took another long sip. “Just trust me, sweetheart,” they insisted. “I’ve almost found what I’m looking for.”

“Which is?”

“Going to be amazing.” The Farmer accentuated the sentence by gently tugging on Elliott’s pendant to pull him in for a kiss. “I have to make my runs and then I’m off. The faster I get to the mines, the faster I find it.”

The Farmer tilted their head back as they finished the cup of coffee. It was amazing to Elliott how they somehow managed not to burn their tongue drinking it like that. One more kiss, then the Farmer threw on a clean shirt, grabbed their bag, and all but sprinted out of the house.

Elliott’s sigh echoed off the walls. It felt so empty without his spouse. He clutched the pendant around his neck then brought it to his lips to kiss it. That proposal gift meant the world to him, and the ritual of kissing it was comforting to him. Like he was telling his spouse he’d be with them even when they were far away.

He finished his coffee then made his way to the pile of clothes gathering in the bedroom. The shirt that the Farmer had worn the day before had more blood than the others. No, it’s not theirs. They seemed fine. They must have encountered a lot of monsters down there. This isn’t their blood. It can’t be.

Elliott placed the shirt on the top of the pile and grabbed the basket, balancing it on his hip as he made his way outside. He emptied the basket into the wash bin and set it on the porch. He walked to the pond to gather water, where he could see his spouse in the distance, right on the property line. The Farmer glanced over their shoulder and upon meeting eyes with Elliott, gave a huge grin a wide wave.

“I love you, Elliott!” They shouted, louder than was necessary. Elliott smiled. The Farmer always went out of their way to make sure everyone in town knew how much they adored him. Elliott waved back and mouthed the words I love you, too, not confident in being loud enough for the Farmer to hear. He rarely raised his voice at all, let alone loud enough so be heard across several acres. The Farmer then took off running toward the mines. Elliott’s smile dropped and he sighed as he filled a bucket with water.

He carefully brought the water back to the house, trying not to spill any on the ground. After only a few splashes, he managed to reach the porch and poured the water over the clothes. He grabbed the soap from a nearby crate and started letting it bubble up the water. He grabbed the shirt the Farmer had been wearing the day before and started scrubbing the blood out of it first.

There were some parts of this new lifestyle that Elliott wasn’t exactly fond of, and laundry was one of them. No modern laundry equipment. The Farmer couldn’t afford it when they first moved to the farm, and figured they’d embrace the full self-sufficient experience by washing clothes by hand. Elliott would usually take the clothes elsewhere to be washed, but today he decided to endure the chore. It kept his mind occupied and let him feel even closer to his spouse.

It was still a dreadful process, though.

By the time he was finished hanging up the clothes to dry, he had changed the water four times, each time watching the various shades of red and brown soak into the dirt beside the house. The clothes weren’t what he’d call pristine, but his hands were wrinkled and cramping. Given that the odor was gone, the stains were fading, and the Farmer didn’t seem to mind a little discoloration, Elliott decided it was good enough.

He grabbed the basket and went back into the house to replace it. As soon as he crossed into the bedroom, the basket slipped out of his wet hands and before he could catch it, he tripped over the basket and barely put his arms in front of him in time to avoid breaking his nose. The fall knocked the wind out of him, though, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He winced as he steadied himself on his hands then froze in horror as he saw the cause of his pain.

His pendant was in shattered pieces on the floor.

Elliott could feel the blood draining from his face and his heart sinking below his stomach.

“No, no, no,” he whispered aloud, staring at the shards in disbelief. “No, nonono, no!”

Tears began to flood his eyes as he threw the basket out from under him and started scraping the pieces together. They were sharp, but he didn’t care. He needed all the pieces. Maybe if he held them together the pendant wouldn’t be broken anymore. Maybe he’d wake up in a moment beside his spouse and his pendant would be safe and intact on the bedside table.

He clutched the pieces together and didn’t let go, despite the fact that he could now feel them piercing his hands. If he couldn’t see them, he wouldn’t have to accept that he broke the most meaningful object that he’d ever been given. The object that represented his deep love and devotion to the one person he loved more than he’d ever loved anyone in his life. The reason he woke up before the sun. The reason he took time away from writing to feed animals and water crops. The reason he did laundry by hand.

There was nothing Elliott could do but sit on his knees, clutching the shards of his pendant, and weep. All the feelings he’d been keeping at bay came crashing down on him - his exhaustion, his burnout, his worry about his spouse. His weeping became overwhelming sobbing and he brought his clasped hands to his forehead.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked, “I’m so, so sorry!”

He kept repeating the words. Sometimes softy, sometimes screaming them until his throat got sore, then feebly squeaking them out. It felt like he was alone on the floor apologizing for hours. Apologizing to the pendant, his spouse, his hands.

“I got it!”

The Farmer’s voice hit him like a strike of lightning.

The door swung open. Elliott couldn’t bring himself to look in the Farmer’s direction.

“Just a few days, and it’ll be ready, and just in time! You won’t believe how much I had to bribe Clint with just to get him to expedite it! Elliott, you’re gonna be so-“

The Farmer’s ecstatic rambling came to an abrupt halt and Elliott could feel their stare.

“Elliott?”

He couldn’t speak. The Farmer walked in front of him and knelt down. He didn’t dare look into their eyes.

“Elliott, what’s wrong?”

Elliott’s lip trembled as he slowly opened his hands, which were now shaking and stained red.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice was hoarse from all the crying.

“Darling, I’m so sor-“

“Elliott, your hands! Here, wait, don’t move.”

The Farmer leapt up and ran to the kitchen. After hearing the sound of them rifling through the cabinets, Elliott heard their footsteps return quickly.

“Here, put those in here,” they instructed, holding a bowl under Elliott’s hands. He gently laid the shards in it, afraid to break them even more. After setting the bowl on the nightstand, the Farmer doused a rag in rubbing alcohol and put their free hand on Elliott’s arm. “This’ll sting a bit, okay?”

I deserve it.

When the rag came in contact with his wounds, his hand twitched, but his spouse winced more than he did. After cleaning the blood, his spouse gently wrapped his hands in bandages and gently kissed them.

“What happened, sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“I-”

Elliott’s voice broke. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath to regain his composure.

“I tripped. I fell on my chest and my pendant was underneath me and it broke. I’m so sorry, my love.”

The Farmer brought a hand to Elliott’s face and made him meet their gaze. To his surprise, the Farmer didn’t look upset or disappointed. Their expression was of concern and a touch of disbelief.

“Is that why you’re so upset? Because your pendant broke?”

“It’s not just some necklace, it’s special. You proposed to me with it, it represents so much, and now it’s ruined!”

The Farmer stared for a moment then gave a small laugh.

“Just because it’s broken doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop loving you!”

“Of course not, but I-”

“Sweetheart, it’s just a seashell! I’m not in love with it, I’m in love with you! That seashell doesn’t write me poetry, or keep me warm at night, or fuss about me adventuring, or help me with my chores just to make life a little easier. You know who does?”

The Farmer leaned in and kissed Elliott.

“You do. And I’m worried about how you managed to get yourself shattered, not that thing.”

Fresh tears streamed down Elliott’s face. The Farmer wiped them away only for them to be replaced. Elliott threw himself into his spouse’s arms and cried into their shoulder. They rocked him back and forth and gently shushed him, stroking his hair as he let all of it out.

“There we go,” they soothed, “it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re alright. Just breathe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

It took at least ten minutes of that to console Elliott before he looked up into his spouse’s eyes with a teary expression.

“You’re really not upset?”

“I wouldn’t be upset even if I didn’t have my little surprise in the works.”

“Alright, you have to tell me. What have you been in the mines looking for?”

The Farmer grinned.

“Will you be cheered up if I tell you?”

Elliott finally had it in him to summon a smile. “Yes, I will.”

“You know how in five days it’ll be the eighth of Fall?”

“Yes, our wedding anniversary. I’m so clumsy I couldn’t even keep my pendant together for a single year.”

“I was looking for gold and diamonds. So that I could have wedding bands made for us. And I wanted them both to have huge, sparkling diamonds that blind everyone in town! And I had to mine them myself so that everyone will know how much I’d do for you. I know I’m not usually the best gift-giver; you remember how my idea of flirting was giving you lobster after lobster.”

“Darling, I never get tired of lobster.”

“However,” they pressed, “that’s why I’ve been trekking through the mines all summer. So that I could give you something just as stunning and beautiful as you on our anniversary. Besides, now we’ll be matching!”

Five days later, the rings were finished and the Farmer took Elliott to the beach to exchange them as they recited the same vows they had a year earlier.

“There’s one more thing I want to give you,” the Farmer said, winded from how hard Elliott had just kissed them.

“What is it?”

The farmer took a cloth out of their pocket and pressed it into Elliott’s now healed hands.

“Open it.”

Elliott unwrapped the cloth and gasped. There his pendant was, the cracks having been sealed with gold.

“I found a lot more gold than diamonds in those mines, and I know how much it crushed you- I mean, how broken up you were- I mean, how torn you felt- I mean- Sorry.”

Elliott laughed. “How many of those did you come up with?”

“Oh, way too many.” Elliott swatted the Farmer’s shoulder and kissed them. “But I had Clint fix this up with the extra gold I got. He wasn’t pleased about the deadline, so I had to bribe him. Again. But it’s totally worth it.”

“Oh, darling, it’s beautiful. I don’t deserve you.”

The Farmer scoffed and took the pendant, moving Elliott’s hair out of the way and clasping it around his neck.

“You deserve the whole world, my love. And I’ll stop at nothing to give it to you.”

[ehyde]

More I learn about the history of Thomas the Tank Engine the more I do, in fact, want to gatekeep All Engines Go. The original author would've hated it at any rate.

[sdvfarmertim]

Abigail doing Vines

Abigail: My dad!(films Pierre doing the dishes) He wash the dishes!(squirts him in the face with a water gun, making him yelp)

*beep*

Abigail: (films Pierre raking the leaves in the autumn) He rakes the leaves! Pierre: (rakes the leaves and raises an eyebrow at her)You should help. Abigail: ...NO!

*beep*

Abigail: (films Pierre on the phone and looks annoyed) He looks angry! Pierre: (stares right into the camera)...this is why we didn't got more kids. Abigail is more than enough for us.

[moonglittering]

so i think im gonna go plot based, semi-private! tho ppl ive been mutuals with for years... we can still clown lol. anyway as i get busier with music tryna crank out this album by july and perhaps going back to school to be an esthetician ( idk how i went from radiology to this path but i guess i like skincare more than being in hospitals as a possible career glfkjgldfk )

so it’ll probably be a new blog.

in the meantime i made a new discord. like this and ill slide it over.

[fooltofancy]

the gris water levels are everything to me

[cherry-pop-soda]

maybe it’s good that humans never evolved away the uncanny valley instinct since now it’s proving to be useful in catching ai generated images

[sharky857]

"Ah lads, not again..."

(Spoilers alert: "yes again")

(This is actually the third time. 2nd time it landed next to the greenhouse and I had to break it down because it was blocking one of my shortcuts. 😤)

[mymelodyisme]

A friend on Twitter and i we’re taking about how Jas would probably try to speed along their relationship 🤭 she roped in Vincent and things went all according to plan

[lemonynuggets]

As an artist and nerd(/pos) , what would u make/write if u could build a game?

ok um this is a hard one

i've always thought it'd be really cool to make a game but i never stopped to think about WHAT i would make

maybe an rpg horror because i love rpg horror... or just any kind of horror game in general i heart horror lots

my first experiences with games were sally face and fran bow and similar stuff so that really shaped the kind of games i'm into, so yeah there would have to be some horror and puzzles in there, i'm just not sure of the genre or the story i'd go for

[softgrungeprophet]

stardew valley... good

[ttsukiimi]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ MILLION DOLLR BABY!

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ for as long as you can remember, you’ve been friends with Satoru Gojo—just friends. Then why is now insisting that you’re the perfect woman to birth the Gojo clan heir?

★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, smut (mdni), implied experienced!gojo x virgin!reader, gojo clan au, breèding k⍣nk, best friends to lovers/f⍣ckers, implied s⍣xual tension, unprotected s⍣x, slight mention of size difference, mentions of passing out, slight cl⍣t play, slight t⍣t play, bigd⍣ck!satoru.

When Satoru had first proposed this..idea of his, you’d almost choked on the succulent dumpling you were chewing on. Your eyes widened and you looked over at the white haired, heaven sent man beside you, and while, yes, yes he was so fucking attractive, you just didn’t want to waste years of friendship for something you were both unsure of.

You knew that the Gojo clan was in dire need of an heir with Satoru’s ability, considering he himself was the clans one and only trump card. But, where you really the one that could carry out this oh, so important task? You simply couldn’t carry that burden on your shoulders.

“‘Toru,” you called out softly, swallowing the last remains of your food before you reached out and cupped his bigger hand in yours. The warmth of his hand alone had you ready to stutter out your whole sentence. “Look, I—“

But could you really continue speaking with the way his azure eyes bored into you as he stared, his free hand taking ahold of yours and holding it tight, practically engulfing your palm in his? You think not.

“Please. I’ve been being bugged all day, you don’t understand.” He pleaded, a pathetic whimper of your name leaving his lips as he pulled you closer to him by the arm. “You’re the only one I wanna do this with.”

“Please.”

And so was the escalation of how you ended up under your best friend of—how many years had you spent with him again? You couldn’t remember with how foggy your brain was as his lips slid across your neck while he peppered hickeys along your skin.

Your hands tangled in his soft hair, urging him to venture further down your neck to the valley of your breasts.

“‘Toru,” you mouthed, looking up to his lust-clouded eyes as you placed his hand on your tit, squirming as he immediately squeezed the flesh. His hands expertly groped at your mounds as his fingers moved around your already firm nipples, swiping at your sensitive nubs.

Satoru chuckled breathlessly, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll give it to you soon, needy girl.”

He then planted a deep, wanton kiss to your lips—a kiss that released all of his pent up feelings and sexual tension into one. Your body shivered as you felt his breath fan past your pulse point.

“Just know you’re leaving this room nice ‘n full, ‘Kay?” And with that he was latching his mouth to your breasts, making quick work of sliding his robe off with a swift pull of the bow holding it together. He sprang up, hard and excited to finally have the woman he’s been head over heels with for years.

Fuck. Your eyes widened at the sight—was he really hiding this from you all this time? Surely, concealing something this size would be a hassle, right?

Satoru’s grin only widened at the expression displayed on your face, feeling pride build up in his chest. He hurriedly grabbed at the base, pressing his tip right up to your aching and pulsing cunt.

“Y’ready?”

“Mhm hm!”

“‘M going in,” as he slowly wedged himself between your folds, watching as you stretched to accommodate his size and groaning at the view.

Was this what heaven felt like? Had Satoru Gojo finally tasted a slice of his own paradise?

He had, and there was no backing down now—no escaping from the seemingly endless ruts of cock into you, the hands harshly planted to your hips, and the feeling of being filled up repeatedly.

He watched you squirm under him, all the while burning with the desire to ruin you, but he knew with how tight you were clamped down around him—that this might’ve been your first time.

The thought made his ego skyrocket.

“You take it so well,” he praised, spreading your thighs further apart to gain a better glance of just how wet you were, gritting his teeth in resistance.

Satoru could, without doubt, have you pass out by the second round—if he wanted you to. But his goal now was simply to get you pregnant—to plant that million dollar baby into you.

However…a little sidetracking could do. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun with you.

“It’s so..deep inside me, ‘Toru. Are you sure it’s s’possed to be—“ your words came to a halt, a particularly hard rut of his hips shutting you up for good; only leaving room for cries of pleasure to leave your lips.

And, maybe, just maybe he should have proposed this idea earlier. Maybe he should have just made it known to you how good he could give dick.

With each movement into you, Satoru let himself go a little, let himself get a little rougher, let the head of his cock graze the just-right spots inside of you; spots you never knew existed.

He already knew your body so well.

His hand journeyed down to your thighs, letting go of its original place on your hips to your pussy, thumb drawing your clit in brain-fuzzying circles.

You mewled, back arching off the bed and your hips moving on their own to meet his thrusts, clawing at the bedsheets for anything that may keep you grounded—because everything your best friend did threatened to transport you to pleasure utopia.

“S’toru, feels like my—“ he cut you off once more, breathing hard against your lips after he finishes kissing you.

“You gonna cum for me?” he asked, smugly of course, knowing he’d be the first man to ever make you cum. You nod and Satoru took this as a queue to drive rougher thrusts into your cunt, reveling in the lewd squelches and the slap of your bodies resonating throughout the room.

You came to a crescendo, and your body fell limp. Your thighs shook around his waist as you climaxed, mouth falling open and face curling into a blissed-out look.

“Fucking pretty even when you cum,”

And while it would’ve taken him—normally—another round to finish, virgin pussy had him on a chokehold. Especially yours.

So, naturally, it wasn’t long—perhaps 3 or 4 more thrusts until Satoru Gojo—your former best friend—came inside you. Fully intent on knocking you up.

No, he didn’t have any intention of pulling out either, wanting to keep his seed deep inside you until he’s sure you’re pregnant.

He lay to your side, still inside you, not showing any signs of getting soft anytime soon. But, no matter what had happened, Satoru was still your best friend.

Just now a best friend that knew how your walls felt around him.