#it was at that moment i was like: i need that mod. i need that mod to get rid of these creepers. i NEED it for my sanity--

[kitsuga]

two left feet. {Elliott x Reader/Farmer}

Description: 

A fic in which Elliott has prophetic (?) dreams. 

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Tags: fluff, you ever have prophetic dreams? i do, elliott seems the type to have them too. look at him, reminder i am both blessed and cursed with the possibility of ooc bc mods have been installed in my brain for far too long, reader is referred to as "Farmer"!, not beta'd, not edited, gender neutral reader, stardew valley/sdv x reader/farmer, elliott x reader/farmer, stardew valley/sdv, elliott

Word Count: 2,375

A/N: Written on: February 24, 2023 

I!! Think!! Hes!!! So!!!! Cute!!!! I don’t think I like the ending on this one but to be fair im gonna let it slide and pretend it doesnt exist, why not lKJSFHIUEF 

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It was cold in the stoney area Elliott found himself in; deep below the surface, he thought to himself—damp, cold, and full of unsettling shadows hidden in corners. Small flames lead his way down the makeshift corridor, but he was weary to follow—what would find him at the end of it? With no exit found behind him, he pressed forward. 

The flames started to die out as he walked past, their lives cut short without a second thought—except, he thought about it. Why were they blowing out so suddenly? A chill started to climb up his spine as he made his way down towards what looked like an open area; it was darker than where he had been, only a few dancing flames had sat within the room.  

This room was bad news, Elliott thought to himself. Everything in his body was screaming to run, that there was danger around, but he couldn’t. With his feet planted in place, his eyes darted from flame to flame, straining to see what horrors they would illuminate. The hairs on the back of his neck started to stand on end as sounds started around the room; quiet at first before steadily growing louder, menacing, echoing off the stones. Shadows peeled themselves off the walls, contorting to hideous figures; sharp shrills came from somewhere deeper. The knot in Elliott’s stomach grew tighter, almost causing him to hunch over with fear.  

Creatures he thought he’d never be able to even dream of started to show themselves in the dim lights, just as frightening as they sounded. Horrifying sights, he thought to himself; dripping, oozing, some even rigid and sharp—creatures with faces so frightening he couldn’t fully comprehend what it was his eyes were trying to focus on. They moved with malevolence, each action full of venom; Elliott found himself begging in silence that he kept out of their sights. 

They started to merge together, moving towards something lying on the ground just within the remaining candle’s flames. It was balled up, hardly moving; the figure was... human, Elliott thought. What were they doing there? Were they alright? They needed to get up—needed to get out. The monstrosities grew ever closer, and his anxiety was on the rise; he tried calling out to the person, trying to will the air from his lungs to say something—anything—but nothing was productive. Even if something had come out, his voice would be lost amongst the terrifying noises that echoed among the walls, falling on deaf ears.  

The growing sense of urgency made him jittery as he tried and tried again to call out, but the moment his eyes adjusted and caught a glimpse of just who lay in the monster’s trap, his heart sank to his stomach. 

“Farmer...?” 

Elliott managed to whisper, his voice trembling while their name felt heavy with dread. He tried to move his feet, reach out to them. He tried calling out to them again and again, voice raising and wavering each time. The shadows started to move in, but he could only watch as they swoop in on their prey. With his heart in his throat and lead in his feet, he reached out for the Farmer who lay there unresponsive. 

“Farmer!” He shouted. “Farmer! Get up! Farmer, please!”  

He got desperate, screaming their name now as the shadows pounced at the person he cared about. 

“FARM--” 

“-ER!”  

Elliott woke up with a start, his heartbeat pulsing in his ears, jumping out of his chest and into his throat all at once. His breath was heavy, shaky, and felt as though he couldn’t catch it—his chest rose and fell with pain. Elliott’s clothes stuck to him, drenched in a cold sweat. His mind started running a mile a minute, no coherent thoughts were able to keep up. Was it a dream? It had to have been; he looked around the room and registered that it was his own. Trying to stabilize his breathing, he tried to brush his hair from his face and slowly lay back down.  

It was a dream! It was a dream. It was... a dream. Elliott bolted out of bed, alarmed that it had been a dream. It wasn’t a prophetic one, right? It couldn’t have been. Was it? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. He was being ridiculous! Surely it was just a nightmare, and he should go back to bed. This is what he tried to soothe himself with as he drew back his blanket and attempted to crawl back into bed. 

But... what if it wasn’t? He jumped out of bed once again and rushed around his room—he should just go check on them! No, he NEEDED to go check on them. He felt around the dark room to grab his jacket from the back of his chair and struggled to put it on in a rush, tripping and falling against the front door as he also attempted to put on his shoes. Outside was quiet—even the waves were drowned out by the sound of his racing heart and his breath trying to catch up as he took off running, struggling to keep his footing in the sand. He ran much faster as his feet hit solid ground, sprinting through the familiar path to their farm. Weaving through paths of hard-earned crops and practically jumping over the rickety, old wooden steps of the porch, his fist pounds at their front door. He continues to knock, and knock, and knock, beating at the old wood so hard he could hear it over the static playing in his ears. 

Are they there? They have to be. It’s the middle of the night; oh, please be there, he thought to himself. Please be safely in your own bed, comfortable and warm—where they should be. He began to knock again before he was cut off, the door in front of him opening slowly to reveal the very person he was so desperate to see; they stood there in their pajama’s, a fist rubbing one eye while the other attempted to blink away the drowsiness and process the need to wake up. They were here, they were safe, they were... adorable. Elliott hunched over, holding his stomach, and let out the heaviest breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  

“Elliott...? Are you alright?” Farmer asks, voice drenched in sleep. “What’s wrong?” 

It took a few moments of trying to calm down and regulate his breathing before Elliott had stood back upright. He looked at them carefully, taking in every inch of them to ease his mind and soothe his heart, as their body was bathed in the gentle moonlight. 

“...Ahem,” Elliott cleared his throat and attempted to straighten his shirt. “Hello, Farmer.” 

They studied him with half-lidded eyes. Their shoulders hung with sleep still wrapping them like the warm blanket they had left in their bed. After a few moments, and a few hoots from an owl in the distance, they broke the silence of the night once again. 

“Are.... you okay?” 

“Why do you ask?” 

Elliott felt the corners of his lips turn upwards, but not of joy or relief. He was certainly feeling very awkward, now. How in the world was he going to explain this behaviour to them! His smile starts to grow, becoming more and more disconcerting; sweat fell from his brow though his body had certainly had enough time to calm down. He started to clear his throat again, moving to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to find the words to say. Come on, Elliott! You’re a writer! Certainly, you can think of a story to excuse this behaviour away? He watched as the Farmer looked him up and down, squinting a bit at him before they opened their mouth to speak. 

“Well... you were banging at my door is if your life depended on it... in the middle of the night.” 

“Ah... yeah...” Elliott managed to stammer out. 

“Then, your jacket is inside out--” Elliott promptly looked down to see the inside of his jacket pockets where they certainly should not be. “--and you’re also in your pajamas.” He certainly was. 

“Well, you see...” He started. 

Farmer looked down and stared, causing Elliott to follow suit. He took a look at his feet and felt the heat of a blush creep up the back of his neck the longer the silence drew on between the two of them. The distant hoot of an owl called out again before Farmer stuck their hand out and pointed at his previously mentioned feet. 

“You have two different shoes on.”  

The silence of the night swallowed the two of them whole once again. 

Elliott heaved a heavy sigh and slowly, almost with a shaky hand with how embarrassed he was feeling now, wiped the cold sweat off of his face and spoke through a crooked—and awkward—smile. 

“Ah. So I do.” 

“It’s like you have two left feet.” 

“That is not the same thing, they are simply different shoes—they're meant for the correct feet.” 

Elliott looked up at them through his eyelashes, his embarrassment practically melting away the instant he saw a bright smile on their lips. Of course they tried to make him feel better about it all, it was just who they were; it was something he truly adored about them, after all. Their soft, melodic giggle echoed through the still night, wrapping him with the comfort he had practically begged for just moments ago—it was such a welcomed warmth that he had almost forgotten what it was that had him so worried in the first place; the daunting fact crashed against him like a wave as he remembered and the blush of embarrassment crept up his neck once again. 

“Ahem... Well,” Elliott cleared his throat once again—it was going to be sore by the morning if he kept it up, “you see, there’s this tradition of... waking... people up... frantically... to...” 

Farmer cut him off with an unconvinced look and by gently putting their hand up to motion him to drop the horrible acting. 

“You’re a writer. You couldn’t come up with something better than whatever you were about to give me?” That’s what Elliott had been telling himself, too, only hearing the Farmer say it aloud struck his heart like an arrow. 

“Alright, fine.” He took a large breath, held it, and let it out in a quick meditation. “Believe in what you will, but there are times when dreams may be... prophetic.” 

“...Go on.” 

“It comes in as a sort of déjà vu at times, you see.”  

“Elliott.” 

He threw his hands up into the air as an indication that he had given up trying to beat around the bush. Holding those same hands out to the Farmer, he looked at them with such heavy concern and care in his eyes, he started to tear up. He fought back those very tears as Farmer gently put their hands in his own, instantly, without being prompted. Softly, quietly, as though the night itself would carry his words to the moon and reveal his secrets, he confessed. 

“I had a nightmare—about you.” He started, rubbing his thumbs across the Farmer’s knuckles and keeping eye contact with them. “I... needed to make sure you were alright. I was truly... truly frightened. I thought you had been hurt, or worse—if I had lost you.” 

Elliott leaned in closer to them, his voice now hardly above a whisper. 

“What would I ever do without you?” 

The Farmer looked back at him, their sleep still holding a shade over their eyes, though Elliott could see the gears in their head start to process. It was their turn for their skin to heat up a little, get a little embarrassed, feel a little awkward and lost for words. They opened and closed their mouth a few times, going to say something but changing their mind; finally, they settled on simply giving him a warm, comforting smile, leaving his slight confession for a time when they were more lucid.  

“Thank you, Elliott.” They whispered back. “For caring so much about me; for checking on me. I’m alright, I promise.” 

The Farmer’s smile turned into a larger one, with a little more pep in their step as they turned away from the door frame and faced the dark inside of their house. They held onto one of Elliott’s hands and gestured into the dark with the other, their eyes silently wishing for a certain answer as they looked into his own. 

“Now that you’re here, do you want some tea? You’re free to crash on my couch for the night, since it’s so late. I don’t know what happened in that dream of yours, but... maybe it’ll help you sleep knowing I’m okay.” 

Elliott’s eyes grew wide, but only for a moment, before the relief and thankfulness had smoothed his being. Right. They were okay. They were okay, and that was the best thing he could ask for at this point. They were here, in front of him, in the comfort of the rickety old wooden place they called home—not in some frightening, dark, dangerous cave. They were here—with him—he could feel the warmth of their skin and they gently held his hand and guided him through the door, into the comfort of their home. They were safe, and for that, he was thankful.  

A promise-- he silently made to himself as he watched the hot tea pour into the cup in front of him—to pay closer attention to their safety. A promise to protect what is loved, and a promise to do whatever was needed to keep any prophetic dreams at bay.  

A promise... to think things through a little more instead of panic; he gave a miserable smile as the Farmer started to give a genuine laugh at his two different shoes now that they were a bit more awake to truly appreciate the ridiculousness of his outfit. The sound, however, brought him his much-needed peace.  

Surely, he’d see them in a much better dream this time. 

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

oh hey! i was reading a fic the other day where Wangji was once misspelled as Wangu. which leads me to: MDZS Pingu-style??? noot noot!

Do you think love can bloom on the sea ice?

[dragon--sage]

bad faith gamer: VEILGUARD WON'T BE GRITTTTYYYY AND DARKKKKK LIKE ORIGINS!!!! passssssss

me losing my shit in the darkest and grittiest moments of origins:

[kipaia]

My PC did *not* handle the 13 hour uhaul trip well and she's been plugging along but I have no idea what's wrong with it (narrowed down to either motherboard or graphics card) and can't afford to get it looked at for probably another month at minimum (if not like . . . January 😭). Got all of my research stuff onto my external hard drive, now my nerdy ass is trying to copy over all of my screenshots and my mods folders so I don't have to start from scratch

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Featured Fic Friday!

Welcome to Featured Fic Friday! A day where I, or someone who suggests one, tell you about a fanfic that I really enjoy! Spoiler's under the cut! Today's featured fic is...

Stellar Remnants by StellarTales999 (General Audiences, Incomplete)

Nightmare had been alone in his head for the longest time. For 500 years he was able to gain more power, a castle, a gang, and a reputation of one of the most dangerous beings in the multiverse. But when Dream had broken out of stone, someone else made themselves known, someone who should have been dead. OR Corrupted Nightmare is a parasite and Passive Nightmare refuses to die. He does not appreciate the identity theft. Updates every Sunday! Cross posted on Wattpad!

Although not yet completed, this is a bit of a shorter story that I recently found & enjoyed!

Once again, the author introduced me to a concept that I haven't seen done before, having the Corruption be a parasite that's taken over Nightmare's body!

The way that the author executes the concept is interesting as well, & very much hooks you in, making you want to read more!

Spoilers ahead!

I really like how the author has Passive interact with Phantom Papyrus, who, although he is actually a ghost, is believed to be a hallucination by Dust!

I also like how the author switches between different point of views, meaning we get to see what the characters think about the situation!

Although it hasn't been updated in a few months, I'm really looking forward to what author has in store for the future!

[transingthoseformers]

This made me remember something hilarious and kinda nsfw

So tfp Megatron upgraded his frame from his gladiator Megatronus design/colors to his series appearance, right? Red highlights to purple, blue optics to red, flat grays to shiny silver, and in general a sharper design?

Imagine he exactly didn't change his array. It's just so incongruent to the rest of him.

[royalarchivist]

Folks seem a bit sad lately, so I'm going to be tossing some funny and silly clips into the queue to cheer people up. Please remember to take a break and step away from your computer (and Twitter especially) if you need to!

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

'yandere sebastian' 'yandere abigail' 'yandere wizard' give me yandere clint 🖐✊🖐✊

[shalom-iamcominghome]

So, on the topic of kosher video game runs, I have just remembered that I'm challenging myself to do a kosher stardew run. And it's working out about as well as it's been working irl (there was a shrimp cocktail in my fridge and I was so scared 😭)

[lixbf]

i need someone to make a mod for hades 2 that always plays the like corresponding song from epic the musical like oh youre on your way to polyphemus/fighting him? have fun listening to polyphemus or survive or remember them! youre getting a hermes boon? perfect time for wouldnt you like! youre in oceanus/fighitng scylla? you already know whats up! suffering then different beast then scylla playing! oh youre on circe's island? heres the entire circe saga playing so you too spend like a year on her island!

[victorluvsalice]

-->While Smiler was bopping away, Victor had finished his upgrading, so I had him transportalate down to the greenhouse, change into more appropriate clothes, and start tending all the plants (a process made a little bit harder today by his bees being angry about life and stinging him occasionally). Alice, meanwhile, was stopped from going out to shower in the rain (Erratic Sims…) and forced to finish her breakfast and take a quick wolf nap to calm her instincts before I sent her out to feed Toothy the cowplant and the poor starving chickens. Fortunately going out in the thunderstorm didn’t make her scared (one of the few perks of a Sim being Erratic) – though it did break her umbrella, so that wasn’t great. Despite this, though, she got everybody fed, cleaned out the coop, and got all five eggs waiting in said coop without incident. Feeling both proud of her for staying on task and bad that I'd made her work in the rain, I then directed her to head inside and up to her and Victor’s bedroom, before having her change into her outfit with the Delicate “bad mood calming” bracelet and start working on her latest book again (the mystery “Who Stole The Tarts?” in case you need a reminder – I did!). She plugged away at that for a bit while I checked in on Victor – he’d finished all his tending, so I decided to have him super-sell his garden –

After he’d bonded with his bees to stop them being so angry. And after he’d evolved his taro root. And after he’d gathered soy wax off his soy plant. And after he’d gotten a pee – which involved him magically fixing the downstairs toilet because at some point it broke (I think the moment he tried to sit down on it, in fact). And after he’d given Surprise a lecture on scratching the furniture. I’m saying it took a WHILE to get to super-selling all that produce. XD But he did get there eventually, poor guy!

-->And then I looked at Alice again and noticed her Fury was getting really high because, despite her bracelet’s best efforts, her “gotta be outside” werewolf instincts were giving her lip. I quickly sent her out into the backyard (fortunately the rain had calmed down to a drizzle at this point, AND her umbrella was back in good repair) and had her somber howl to lower her Fury – then, deciding I wanted to be extra safe on a party day, sent her back up to the séance room to meditate the rest of it away. Smiler, meanwhile, was finally allowed to stop dancing for the camera (I’d left them like that for a while because, uh, it was just easier ^^;) and upload the video to their production station so they could start editing it and adding effects and transitions and all that jazz. Victor, for his part, finished his super-selling at last – I immediately made him Repairio the wind farm (those things break SOOO MUCH) and smash up a twisted tendril growing outside Moory’s pen before having him harvest the prairie grass in said pen. XD No rest for the wicked – or the magical! Though he got a pretty good harvest out of the prairie grass – not only did he bundle up plenty of hay, he also found a bottle of potato nectar – and a bottle of VITALITY nectar. AKA the nectar that can deage Sims and bring ghosts back to life. O.o So yeah, that right there? That is the GOOD stuff. Have to remember to get him to store it in the aging racks later!

-->Anyway – while Victor was getting that done, Smiler uploaded and hyped their finished video (just in time for it to be included in the royalty money for the day, nice), then ran downstairs to lecture Shock for scratching furniture and drinking from puddles. I couldn’t get a good picture of either as Shock kept running away from Smiler to do something else as they tried to lecture her (like going to drink from puddle in the bathroom while Smiler was trying to tell her no scratching the living room chairs), but the lessons DID take, and Shock has learned not to do either thing anymore. Hooray! I then had Smiler mop up all the puddles around the place and take a quick shower as I checked in on Alice – to my delight, she was completely Fury-less! Yay! :D And even better, I quickly discovered an activity to keep her busy while I tried to wrangle Smiler and Victor (Smiler, finished with their shower, was trying to mold the clay blob in the bathroom from last episode while Victor wanted to chat with them) – the laundry! The hamper was starting to look a biiit full, so I had her search everyone’s pockets, then load up the washer with the clothes and a chrysanthemum and set them tumbling. Victor and Smiler had headed back up to Smiler’s room to dance to the tunes coming out of their radio at this point, so I just had Alice head up and join them for a little dance party –

[thigh-inspectors]

finally was able to sit down and give GALLO's Inferno a proper listen with my good headphones and i am just.... AHHHHH

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Why Izzy fandom and Izzy 'eh' people write this fucker so differently. A slight rant written at 1am by a person in the middle of writing her 10th Izzy fic 😆

OFMD is about looking at a person, then diving in, and understanding and sympathizing with why they are like that. To some extent, most romantic comedies are. So let's look at who my brain has latches onto:

Stede Bonnet: introduced as a pompous outsider whose wealth blinds him from seeing how hard piracy is. Throughout season 1 we see him grow and gain confidence in his abilities. He finds self confidence, acceptance and even a found family because he is, to his center, himself. He is flawed but we see him trying to follow his own code for what makes a good captain.

Edward Teach: distant experienced pirate who has totally checked out from what it means to be a pirate. He doesn't care about casualities and keeps secrets about life-saving plans from the people xlose to him. But he's not a prick. He wants something in life he doesn't think he can achieve: a peaceful life. He thinks it's a rich persons game he can never afford to win. He's not the kind of person who hets a happy ending. He learns over the series to let himself want that for better and for worse. He can be cruel and seemingly selfish, but he learns to love life again after meeting stede.

Izzy Hands: a character built in Ed's shadow, representing the bits of Ed's life he hates in s1. Most of his screen time is spent either agreeing with or denying Ed's plans. I've noticed in the AU I write, I still tend to write him as a bitchy ex, because what do we know about him outside of how he interacts with Ed? A man who he sees as his 'boss'?

On screen, he is seen with or acting on the behalf of: ED. In s2, it's a bit better. Sure. But he's projecting his issues with Ed onto the crew ('he's still got legs'/'next time he'll do his fucking job' of s2ep4). So even the scenes hes not physicially in frame with the man, Ed is still haunting him. Or Izzy's alone and sad. A character sitting alone CAN progress their character. But what do we learn? That Izzy sees himself as Izzys shadow, too.

The two scenes I can say give direct characterization for him are the Ricky speech of s2-Ep 8, and the drag discussion between him and Wee John. Izzy cares about his crew and is a person wishes he let himself open up in life.

[but even then. We as the audience know this more from a con interview than the actual show. I had a friend say Izzy finally turned gay at that moment, so interpertations of that scene vary]

So. Yes. Izzy cares about rules and trying not to die. Yes. He loves Ed. But who is he? If we took Izzy Hands and dropped him in a new world with new characters and a new plot. Who would he be?

The bitchy 'micromanaging' ex. The mother friend. The nag.

I fucking love Izzy, but I can admit that like most characterization of a side character, I am projecting and stretching apart the crumbs we are given, to have a TON of fun while making him suffer.

I write Izzy the way I do because in my head my favorite character is a mix of 10 hours of tv and the past 2 years of reading stories about a man who is *trying* to live.

I know many fans outside of this sphere struggle to get our facination with the guy, but in the end, Izzy Hands really is ours. And that's kind of beautiful.

[snailfen]

whoever designed utopia shelter is my personal life nemesis now

[paradoxiii]

This fucking hair

Took roughly a month to mash together.

And I think tomorrow I will finally release the mod.