#Elliot Stock

[dame-de-pique]

T. Hall Caine, ed., Sonnets of three centuries (London: Elliot Stock, 1882)

[alitgblog]

I don't really get why streamers have all seemed to have dressed up in maid dresses but you best believe i will take that opportunity to draw elliot like that

[skullytrickybonez]

Kat from wendell and wild

[deathsweetblossoms]

Did I just buy Ivanhoe at the local indie secondhand bookstore because it’s Elliot’s favorite book?

Yeah. I fuckin did. I’ve got it bad, friends, and he isn’t even real 😬

Ruby, the shop cat, is throwing me enough shade so spare me the rest of your judgement.

[thefunniestguy]

I HAVENT DRAWN MY BOY IN SO LONG ,,,,, my drawing tablet freaked out before i could do a “better” background or shade/highlight anything tho <//3 

[pierperian-leisure]

I'll Take My Whiskey Neat

The saloon was dim and lively, with the warm lights casting a molten glow over the villagers inside. Shane and Sam sat in the corner by the fireplace, with the younger man lively gesturing to the older in conversation, with Shane secretly smiling at the boy's gesticulations behind his beer mug. Leah and Elliot sat next to each other on the other side of the bar, each artist gently swapping pieces of conversation from the day and the progress on their respective crafts, and hollering could be heard from the next room over as Abigail, Sebastian, and Alex competed around the pool table.

Harvey sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey neat that Gus had stocked away for the doctor specially. The amber liquid was a warm rush down Harvey's throat, a rich yet ultimately fruitless distraction from his wandering mind. Lewis and Marnie sat only a few stools down from Harvey, and he hoped desperately that they wouldn't pick up on him eyeing the saloon door every few seconds.

The doctor sighed, swirling the remaining whiskey in his glass. He wasn't waiting for the farmer, no more than anyone would wait for any of their other friends, Harvey tried to convince himself. No, it was normal to anxiously watch the door until one's friend entered the bar where all the other town's people were gathered, normal to anticipate the way the ambient lights would glow in the farmer's eyes, how her hair would curl gently around her face, loosened from the day's work. These were all normal behaviors, completely, the doctor told himself, as a flush rose on his cheeks not just from the drink in front of him.

If he were honest with himself, though he rarely was, Harvey wasn't entirely sure when his friendship with the town's farmer became something more. Harvey could recall her first week in town, taking over her grandfather's farm, and running about the town introducing herself to the town's people. Harvey would never forget how the sun light glittered off her hair as Penny shyly opened up to her, or the sound of her laughter with Alex and Sam running outside. But most of all, Harvey would never forget the simultaneous peace and butterflies that filled his chest when the farmer made her way into his clinic for the first time, like being faced with one's future all at once. The farmer bounced into his waiting room, chatting with Maru and Evelyn, asking so sweetly how even cranky George was doing, that Harvey stood struck in his spot. There was no time though, as soon Harvey stood face to face with the energetic young lady. Her beaming smile and citrusy scent had Harvey enraptured at once, and warmth flooded his chest even more when the farmer grinned and extended the black coffee to him. She had found his favorite from Maru, and the two had left him none the wiser. Harvey didn't recognize the butterflies in his stomach at the time, determined after years of medical school and cultivating proper doctor patient relationships to digest the feelings before they could grow. But with every weekly coffee shared, each wine testing for the farmer's burgeoning winery, Harvey was swallowed up into friendship and eventually, the infatuation that had him in his predicament that night.

The doctor wasn't used to romantic feelings, having never been the recipient of them growing up and too busy and professional later in life to act on them. He felt like a school boy struck dumb with his first crush, and even worse, on his closest friend. Harvey stared into his glass, torn between waiting for the farmer and sorting through what to do about the bubbling feelings in his chest.

It was at that point that the farmer finally burst through the saloon doors, laughing alongside Maru. The two had become fast friends, and Harvey both loved and cursed that fact as it made even more of an excuse for the farmer to stop by the clinic often, a problem as the doctor's feelings grew.

He had been right, though. The bar lights twinkled in her eyes, highlighting the glow on her cheeks given to her from days working the farm in the summer sun. The farmer was wearing her hair back in a braid, customary to keep her hair out of her face on long days on the farm and in the mines, with wisps kissing along her temples. A pair of shorts hugged her hips, strong from hard work, and a white blouse made her look absolutely ethereal. Harvey was dumbstruck at her beauty, desperately trying to hide the fact behind his whiskey glass.

The farmer made light conversation with the other villagers, laughing through the crowd and playfully swatting at Elliot's overly verbose flirtations. Eventually, she made her way to the bar, plopping into her usual seat beside Harvey. His breath caught in his throat, had she always smelt that nice? Warmth practically radiating off of her? The tall doctor hunched his shoulders, trying to remember how to breath with all of those thoughts about the farmer running through his head.

The farmer called Emily over, chatting with the other woman and ordering a drink for the night. A whiskey on the rocks, inverse from Harvey's own. The farmer had tipsily confessed to him one night just like this that she couldn't handle the straight whiskey the doctor preferred, but wanted to at least try. It had sent a loving flush to the doctor's cheeks then, flattered and touched by the woman. Harvey didn't hear her call over another drink for himself as well, jostled out of his reverie when the two glasses were set down before them.

The farmer grinned up at Harvey, a teasing glint in her eye. The doctor simultaneously loved and slightly feared what that glint may bring. The farmer chatted with him as usual though, asking how his models were going, how the work at the clinic was treating him and if he was eating like he should. The flow of conversation eased Harvey into their usual repertoire, with Harvey eventually comfortable enough to tease the farmer about her latest risky excursion into the mines, chiding her to be more careful, that he didn't want to stay in business that badly. The giddy peace Harvey usually felt with the farmer settled into his chest, though he couldn't help but notice the farmer slinking lower and lower on the stool beside him, eventually resting her head against his shoulder.

Harvey did his best to stay as still as possible, flushed with the current position he and the farmer found themselves in and determined not to startle her off and break their shared moment. The farmer must have felt Harvey turn into stone, as she titled her head up, eyes sparkling, and asked the doctor to walk her home. Not an usual practice between the two, but something felt different about it tonight.

The doctor stepped down from his stool, holding his hand out to the farmer, and led the two of them through the saloon's crowd and to the door. Harvey could feel the eyes of a few of the more observant town's people on his back, but told himself nothing should appear out of the ordinary, and focused on the feeling of the farmer's smaller, but tougher, palm in his. The pair made their way through the summer night, a gentle wind ruffling their hair and giving the air a pleasant, playful edge, the only sound the doctor and farmer's footsteps on the path's cobblestone. The silence was comfortable, and Harvey glanced down at the top of the farmer's head, gently resting on his arm as they walked. If he didn't know better, Harvey would have sworn he felt a smirk from the farmer pressing into where she gripped his arm.

The two finally reached the farmer's property line, soon stepping up onto her porch. Without warning, the farmer stopped dead in her tracks, using Harvey's forward momentum to pull him to turn and face her. He had been right, a smirk attempting to appear innocent played at the farmer's features, as she tried to school them into something nonchalant and unassuming. The summer air turned heady and promising, an electric current zipping its way through Harvey's gut. The farmer gazed up at him through her eyelashes, sweet and playful, before swinging to her tip toes and pressing a kiss to the corner of Harvey's mouth. His mustache bristled at the movement, and the doctor's knees nearly gave way beneath him. While he was still in shock, the farmer giggled. Before Harvey could come back to his senses, the farmer thanked him for walking her home, slipping into her cabin, a pleased look on her face at the stupor she had left Harvey in. Harvey stood on her porch, shocked, hand gently brushing his lip and facial hair where the farmer's lips had pressed.

It was a small gesture, but a sweet one. Nearly too sweet, but maybe, just maybe, something for Harvey to pin his hopes on.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Just a funny idea;

Since I doubt Pierre's stocks that kinda stuff; Shane and Harvey both know who in Pelican Town are currently doing dirty business based on purchases at Joja Mart and/or requests from the clinic.

Harvey obvs never reveals who asks for what - patient confidentiality after all. But Shane def has had to look more than one villager in the eyes while on register duties and ring up their basket of cheap booze and "protection".

He bumped into Marnie one rainy Saturday when he was called in on a day off. That was how he learned that his aunt was currently boinking somebody in town. He needed a good few rounds of beers after work to quell his horror.

Shane is trying to sus out *who* it is though, as it isn't like his aunt to be so tight-lipped and embarassed about something. Sam and Abigail have helped him draft a "Suspect's List" based on who comes in for what at Joja Mart and Pierre's.

Sam suspects Gus the Barman since he's such a plump, happy person like Marnie. Similar vibes ya know?

Abigail is convinced its Marlon the Adventurer - eye-patch, beard, and a sword? Total babe magnet.

Shane personally is placing his bets on someone whos is a lot younger than Marnie - hence the embarassment. He has shot many a threatening look at Elliot (romantic seaside poet? any woman would swoon) and even Harvey himself (adorable dork with a mustache).

Eventually it becomes a huge topic of discussion that Friday evening at the Saloon and a bunch of the younger townsfolk are *subtley* offering their own theories.

Jas, holding a cola: "Are you guys trying to solve a mystery?" Leah: "I don't think this is a mystery you'd be interested in Jas..." Sam: "Yeah. The mystery of who's in love with your aunt Marnie." Jas: "I went into Aunt Marnie's room one morning to find some hair ties and Mayor Lewis was hiding under the bed..." All within earshot at the saloon: (⊙_⊙) Shane: "He was what?"

[i-write-things]

I'm just imagining how Elliot would react when he hears the farmer passed out in the mines. I imagine he's maybe hunched over a writing desk, candle by his side as he revels in the cozy writing atmosphere he created. Then suddenly, he gets word that his dear farmer passed out in the mines all battered up and bruised. I can see just a shocked writer face as he drops his writing utensil. After three seconds of utter shock and no one moving, he rushes out the door, faster than his legs have ran for probably ever. When he arrives at the hospital, he's all over Harvey, asking if you're ok, when you'll be out, if there's anything he can do, ect. The man sits in the waiting room anxiously waiting, his knee bouncing and his clenched fist hiding his nervous mouth chewing away at his bottom lip. Finally, when he sees you come out of the room, he rushes to you and starts questioning you. Are you ok? How much do you hurt? How sore are you? Why were you out in the mines like that if you could get this hurt? While he questions you, he gently examines your arm and face as if he was the doctor and not Harvey. After you reassure him three times that you're fine, the fear and worry fade. Then he gets a little upset, asking why you were being so reckless and things of that nature. Oh, you are getting the lecture the entire time he escorts you back to the farm. He also forces you to rest in bed. Oh, no no no. You're not moving from that spot. It doesn't matter what you're doing, you're staying there. You've done enough. He grabs you whatever you need, like food, water, ect. It isn't until your about to sleep that he tucks you in with a sigh, and apologizes for his behavior. He didn't mean to react so harshly, but you mean so much to him, he hopes you understand. But you're still not off the hook. He clings to you side for the next two days. Married? Good, he watches you from the house, and if you show any signs of soreness, he takes over and tells you to head inside while he tends the farm. Only dating? He'll visit you as often as possible, at least ten times daily. Oh, and there's no way in hell he's letting you go back in the mines until he is certain you'll be ok. After maybe two weeks at least will he begrudgingly let you go after he stocks you up on Energy Tonics and snacks. And don't you dare hesitate to leave the mines if you feel weak or tired. Because he'll start the process all over again. Please, please try to take care of yourself. The poor author doesn't need that kind of stress, his hair will fall out, and he loves his hair.

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Country Boy - Part II

Phillip Graves/Fem!reader

Summary : There’s a little tension between you and Phillip, but surely you can avoid it? Not when you get tipsy at your welcome party and share a rather intimate moment, revealing some feelings in question to each other.

Word count : 3.4k

A/N : was about to post this earlier then realised a funny glitch had happened and the whole beginning had been deleted…. So I had to redo it and I PRAY it’s not choppy or anything!! Anyways thank you to everybody who read part 1, I appreciate all of your support and hope this part lives up to your expectations! :))

All morning, your mind seemed to be preoccupied.

You prepare your tea in utter silence, finding peace in the soft clank of utensils on plates while your parents eat at the table. Your shoulders are hunched and your back is to them, which allows a little more privacy to let the events of earlier sink in.

Phillip Graves.

Phillip Graves was on your porch. He teased you.

And you let him.

You’re busy pouring hot water into your mug, now attempting to recover everything about that meeting that your mind allowed you to.

It was almost horrible how good he looked, prompting you to keep your head low as you approach the table with your mug cupped in your hands.

He was so tall, so broad and so much more handsome. However, now he brandished a scar sliced deeply into his cheekbone from what you saw. It contrasted his tanned skin and stood out among the small nips and marks he’d collected on his skin since seemingly forever.

His hair fit perfectly under his hat, small dirty blond strands peeking from underneath. You felt as if he was teasing you. Look at me now, look at what you missed out on.

You blow on your tea quietly, hiding the fact it’s actually a deep exhale to comprehend the sight you saw this morning.

Leaning against the arch of your porch, he was wearing a red flannel which managed to hug him in all the right places. His broad shoulders were now defined and so were his arms. The plaid flannel pulled up to reveal his strong, muscled forearms wasn’t warding you off at all.

It’s embarrassing that you remember these features from such a short meeting, causing you to raise your mug to your mouth slowly in an attempt to cover the sheepish smile appearing at the memory of how he used to hold you back then. The way his warm hands cupped your face perfectly, as if they were two pieces connecting in a jigsaw puzzle. You now wished you could’ve gotten a better glimpse at them this morning.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Your mother takes notice of your silent routine, which makes you eye her nervously.

“Nothing. Just.. Phillip-“

“What does that boy want?” Your father interrupts, facing you with an accusatory glare.

“He said your fencing had arrived, wanted you to pick it up.” You mumble awkwardly, wishing you could sink into your mug of coffee and never return. It’s barely been a day and the city seems to be calling your name already with open arms.

You would’ve happily embraced it again, but now you’re here. No regrets, right?

“Oh. Alright.” He shrugs, stretching and getting out of his chair.

Alright?

What is going on?

Ten years ago, your father and Phillip’s rivalry seemed to be unmatched. It pretty much was the talk of the town - the love-struck teen and the unmoved father.

You don’t respond, draining your mug and sitting there stock still. There’s a lot to process this morning.

Like the way Phillip barely looked at you. His eyes only grazing over your face for a split second before directing his attention to his truck or the front door. It’s a little obvious if you say so.

But you can’t help but mourn over the way his gaze would tenderly trace over your figure, how he took his time to memorise any scar or beauty mark somewhere across your body. He’d always run his thumb over his gently at first, but as the two of you got more comfortable in the relationship he learned how much you loved it when he kissed any of your birthmarks.

You stop yourself; you have a husband, you can’t be thinking like this. You’ve moved on.

And clearly Phillip has moved on too. Probably for the better, you reassure yourself. It’s been 10 years, everyone seemed to have given up on chances of you returning.

You’re rinsing your cup in the sink when your internal argument seems to be intercepted by your father.

“I’m heading into town to pick up some equipment, would you like to come, dear?” As he finishes his sentence, his warm hand pats your shoulder gently.

You try not to give off any startled reaction to this sudden touch, you don’t want your family catching onto your mental battles with the memories flooding back so quickly and harshly into your mind once more.

You watch him for a second, he’s pulling a very hopeful yet playful smile, raising his eyebrows in invitation.

“Sure, Pa. I’ll come along.”

He cracks a grin, clapping your shoulder happily before turning away.

“Be dressed by 10!”

You’re overthinking this.

They’re just clothes, you reassure yourself but can’t help shrinking from the intimidating way the assorted pieces of garments glare at you from their position on the bed.

It never used to be this difficult, or at least you don’t remember it like this. Maybe it was because you were a teenage girl and wore all the cute little dresses and cropped items you could get your hands on. You never used to worry like this.

Probably because of Phillip.

You tense a little at the thought of him again. Yet you do remember how he’d savour every outfit you wore, even if you’d worn it before.

“You look great, honey.” He’d whisper to you at some point in the day, his hands comfortably stroking your waist as his eyes would examine every inch of you.

You caught yourself smiling fondly at the memory, but it’s countered by the sudden remembrance of his coldness this morning.

You don’t waste any more time, grabbing whatever catches your eye to throw together an ensemble. It’s not like anyone will care.

The town is sure lively. You’re trying not to act surprised at the influx of new faces meshed with old ones and little children running around, sharing old traits from former classmates.

Just a reminder of how far you’ve seen to have gotten in your marriage with Louis. The only success being his job - you’re just working in his office so he can keep a very inattentive eye on you. You groan and lean back into your seat, trying to shield yourself away from prying eyes that throw cursory glances at your father’s large, quite obtrusive car.

Thinking about Louis and the city was enough to completely lower your mood, including the past memories and flickers of Deja vu when one of your senses encounters something vaguely familiar. It’s like a magic spell of some sort, fleshing out your life 10 years ago and how it may have affected you if you’d stayed.

The car reverses into a parking spot and you hear the thud of the drivers door slamming shut.

“Sweetie, hop out. I’m sure uncle Jimmy will be shocked to see you.” He adds, grinning and patting the car firmly. It seems playful but in reality it’s a bit of a threat.

You slip out hesitantly, allowing the beams of the full sun to encase your body with warmth as well as the now very noticeable sounds and voices flowing around you.

It’s so much quieter than the city yet very distinct, while on your painfully slow journey to the entrance of the shop you overhear someone reciting their shopping list, gossip between two old ladies and complaints about the weather.

This all leaves your mind the minute the shop bell rings as you push open the door.

“Finally, what took you so long?” It’s a rhetorical question. Your father stands by the counter expectantly, looking eagerly to you then to Jimmy at the counter.

He’s not really your uncle, just a saying.

Just a neighbour who used to bring his daughter around, then stopped frequenting after an ‘incident’ broke out at your school and realised it would be a hazard to bring the bratty 13-year-old over again.

He’s not a bad guy, you reassure yourself. Sauntering up to the counter with a smile across your face, he returns it and chuckles at the sight of you.

“You’re all grown up now! I remember when you were just a small thing, hon.” He gestures with his hand, amusement clearly visible on his face at this ‘rare sighting’ of the girl who finally came back.

The city mouse becoming the country mouse she used to be.

“Just what I said! She’s all big and successful in the city, you see, Jim? Even married too!” He exclaims.

Your dad has a habit of doing this, which you’ve grown used to - showing off in front of any other middle aged man. Maybe they’re competition? Who knows.

You’re smiling very calmly, nodding and chuckling lightly just to ease the time and escape from this conversation. The words only begin to sink in once you hear a very specific sentence. More like a word.

A name.

“Yeah, how’s your nephew Phil doing? He an errand boy now? Came round this morning to tell me about those fences.”

“Oh yeah, he’s doing just fine. Pretty damn skilled too, if you need some help with those fences I’ll send him over later.”

You almost freeze.

You can’t interact with him more than once today. You need a break from his painfully pretty face, silky smooth voice, breathtaking blue eyes-

“No need for a later, Jim, I’m right here.”

It’s coming from behind you.

No time to shrink or hide, but that would be futile anyways. It’s almost silly how worked up you’re getting.

“Speak of the devil, Phillip. Sorry I missed you this morning.” Your dad turns and greets him happily, you can hear the clap as their hands collide into a hearty handshake.

You also turn to face him, forcing a smile as his gaze lingered on you.

“Nice to see you back in town, Y/N.” He comments, his hands drifting to hold onto his belt rather than shaking your hand. Or touching you at all.

You think it’s because of the tension, the unresolved problems left behind 10 years ago that are apparently prevalent now still as you can’t seem to look at him for too long.

From the way his hand tightens around his belt loop, he’s feeling similar to you.

“Phillip? You mind coming round sometime to help an old man out?” Your dad interrupts this strangely intense moment, as Philip’s face seems to ease to his usual soft smile and attentive manner.

“Sure can do. But I don’t want to interrupt that party you’re having later with the neighbourhood.” He adds, probably an attempt to weasel out of seeing you again today.

“Nonsense! You’re practically family so don’t give me any excuses, just get your ass over there.”

And with that, your father lets out a hearty laugh and claps a hand on your shoulder. You try not to look as winded as you are from the utter force he exudes.

“I’ll see you soon then. Tom. Y/N.” He addresses the two of you with a fairly civil tone, but it’s hardened at the edges.

He walks out and you desperately drag your wandering eyes away from his form fitting flannel and jeans.

The party is civil.

That’s all you can say about it, because there’s not much else to really pay attention to other than the small, seemingly riveting conversations everybody seems to be having apart from you.

Obviously people come and ask how you’re doing and what your current life goals are, but you just throw out a few repeated phrases you’ve found reassures them the best from the masses of people who flocked to you when walking around town earlier with your father.

It’s not exhausting, but more nerve-wracking. Not everyone wants to see anybody apart from their own family achieving something more in their lives. At least, that’s what you look like to them.

You’re just tired.

So, so tired.

You’re observing the overall party from a swing in the backyard. Your dress delicately spread across the seat and hanging off of the seat a little. It’s a bright pink, which your mother insisted didn’t ‘wash you out’ whatsoever and was the perfect choice for a party.

That is if you’re attending a five year old’s tea party. Which you would rather.

Kids don’t tut at you when you explain your job to them, neither do they spout vaguely critical comments when they believe you aren’t listening.

“It’s nice to see her back after so long, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes, she’s definitely… blossomed… into that beauty of hers.”

“Exactly!”

You can only sit and watch, unbothered at this rate. You’re married and have your life together; people just want to pick at anything they can.

Everything seems to change when the familiar honk of a horn rings from the front of the house. You’re practically leaning out of your chair completely to catch a quick glimpse.

However, you instantly relax once more as your father comes into the backyard accompanied by Philip Graves.

White button up, soft blue blazer thrown on lazily and jeans. You don’t want to linger on him, it’s not right. It’s not fair.

So you get up and do something about it.

You stumble out of your chair, walking down to where everybody seemed to be congregating and looked around for the bowl of your mother’s special punch.

Maybe if you drowned yourself in punch it would avoid having to look at his pretty face. His infuriatingly beautiful face.

Your movements begin as careful, long pours of punch with the ladle into your glass as you throw around polite smiles and chatter. As you refill your glass more and more, the familiar sound of punch swishing in the cup begins to ring in your head. And so do the conversations around you.

You don’t know how long you’ve been idly sipping punch for, but it’s enough time to let the effects of the rather strong beverages -mixed in by your mother- take effect.

You forget that you’re a grown adult now who probably shouldn’t be drinking like a party girl on a weekend. But that thought slips out of your head too quickly to develop into rational feelings, so you just laugh it off and sloppily place the glass on whatever stable surface is the nearest to you.

Wandering through the groups of people, sometimes barging past and almost tripping headfirst into the grass or just walking right in the middle of a conversation just for the convenience of it.

At this rate it’s only to justify why your head feels like it’s melting. God, what was in that punch? It’s not like you’re the biggest lightweight on Earth, but it’s been awhile since you’ve drank that hard in such a short period of time.

At least, that’s what you realise looking back on the situation.

Right now you’re just trying to get back to your seat. Solace away from all the faces you keep bumping into. Somewhere that isn’t spinning, and spinning and spinning.

And spinning.

You slump back into your chair, utterly drained from the strenuous journey of climbing three steps while drunk. It’s such a huge achievement that you smile to yourself, satisfied with your efforts.

You’re busy taking a moment for this newfound quiet to settle into your raving brain when a blur of blue and brown seems to appear in the corner of your eye.

“Here’s the girl of the hour.” He’s suddenly next to you, leaning against the wall of the house with his arms crossed over his chest.

Now that he’s here, you’ve been dying to get a better glimpse at his muscles than this morning.

You only smile passively at him, letting the words flow into one ear and out of the other as your eyes are now fixated on his strong arms.

Phillip isn’t offended by your lack of response, more so concerned at the blankness in your expression.

“Sugar? You alright there…?” He questions, a little amused at your wide eyed, careful examination of his muscles.

Without thinking - which you seem a little bad at doing right now - your hand reaches out and your fingertips glide over his bicep. It’s solid, sturdy and hugs against his blazer in a flattering way.

Now you’re smiling even harder, fondly remembering how he’d carry you home when you were too tired to walk after a date. Or his joy when you’d run to him and he’d instantly wrap his arms around you and spin, your dress would almost float.

You don’t know why these memories seem to flood back at this very moment, but it furthers this euphoric state that you’re slowly slipping into.

“Remember when you used to hold me like a princess?” You murmur, looking up at him with a tenderness evident in your gaze.

He attempts to hide the way his eyes widened at your question, or how he’s beginning to falter or look away. You’re not very aware of it in that moment - but it haunts you afterwards.

“I do. Because you were. Are.” He adds, almost firmly as his hand moves to yours and his fingers brush against your knuckles. It’s funny how he seems to instinctively slow his movements purposefully just so he’s gentle with you, as if you were a doll.

“I’m not.. I’m not a little girl anymore..” you sigh, accepting his fingers intertwining with yours now. His rough, calloused fingers that always seemed to soften in your grasp. The hands that always seemed tense or even clenched in fists most of the time, but were always laid out for you to touch to your liking as your relationship progressed.

He doesn’t initially notice something nudging on his fingers, but glances down at your hands out of curiosity.

There’s two rings on your hand. One on your ring finger and another on your middle; it’s easy to tell which one was made by a lovestruck boy professing his dedication to a high-school sweetheart, whereas the other is flashy, decorative and unthought of. It didn’t strike him as something you used to wear, especially when it clashed with the other ring. His ring.

The ring he saved up for and pleaded for ever so desperately as he handed over his wages to his uncle, asking him for advice on what to make for his girlfriend at the time.

But that didn’t seem to matter anymore. Not when this ring was clearly an engagement ring.

I was planning to come here when I got married, the statement rings in his mind.

“I know. You’re a big girl now, hm?” He chuckles dryly, using humour to cope with the fact you’re touching him. Even after your tense conversation this morning; the conversation that mostly consisted of him speaking and you watching, mouth agape as if you’d just seen a ghost.

He thought he’d been dead to you anyways, especially with your sudden disappearance and lack of communication. Was he that insignificant?

Clearly not, he interrupts his doubts. Clearly not when you’re touching him the exact same way you did like 10 years haven’t passed and you weren’t already taken by some lucky bastard. Engaged. Basically married at this rate if he’s lucky.

His hand slips out of your grasp seamlessly. Deep down he’s berating himself, practically begging himself to hug you, hold you, kiss you so hard his lips bruise and he cannot possibly breathe anymore.

But he doesn’t do any of these things.

You’re looking up at him plainly, waiting for his next move. There’s no animosity or embarrassment clouding your face like the way it was in his uncle’s shop or your front porch.

It’s just you.

The dreamy, doll-like girl he’d happily mapped out his future with while she listened attentively, chirping in her thoughts about what she wanted to do in the future alongside him.

“Sorry, sugar. I’ve got to go to work now.” He whispers, turning away and walking off again. Walking away from the one thing he craves. He’d lost his chance, so what was the point?

He may as well just watch you succeed from afar, living a life that doesn’t involve a country bumpkin from her past ruining her plans.

His footsteps become a little forceful, digging into the dirt and kicking any little stones out of his way.

God, he probably looked so stupid.

He drives off without another word, leaving you a little dazed as you lay back into your chair. You don’t want to even try to think about what just happened, so you just sit there for what feels like forever until people begin to disperse.

Slowly but surely, the crowd grows smaller and smaller and the minute everybody is gone, you run up to your room.

You run as quickly as you can, not waiting to hear your parents’ questions or concerns. This was all a mistake.

A really confusing mistake.

[bethanydelleman]

Stupidest thing each JA protagonists have done?

I also put these in order of stupidity, from greatest to least:

Emma Woodhouse: only one??? Misjudging Mr. Elton's character.

Catherine Morland: thinking Isabella was a genuine friend and that it was just a mistake that she was flirting with Captain Tilney

Marianne Dashwood: saying a man is close to death because he wears flannel waistcoats and I guess not changing her stockings after walking outside...

Elizabeth Bennet: believing Wickham without any real proof

Jane Bennet: refusing the believe the obvious interpretation of Caroline's "break-up" letter

Elinor Dashwood: seeing Edward with a hair ring, believing it is her hair even though she never gave him any hair (Do you really want to marry a hair thief, Elinor?)

Fanny Price: I mean it's hard to point out a thing, most of the time Fanny knows what is right but can't convince anyone so it's not her fault. She doesn't have enough power to change anything. She's Cassandra.

Anne Elliot: My baby girl never did anything wrong in her life, well except for expecting her father to take a small house near Kellynch. That would be embarrassing for him and it was kind of silly to push for it.

[distort-opia]

I love your metas! I was wondering... have you or anyone else tried listing all of Bruce's childhood traumas? Comics zero in on Crime Alley, but EVERY time I see a snippet from his childhood it's invariably a little-to-a-lot fucked up whether his parents are involved (loneliness, bedtime stories, his mom lovingly promising to haunt him) or not (falling into the cave, going to a boarding school run by a killer in Batman Gothic, Tommy Elliott in general, a childhood friend died of diphtheria in Batman Through the Looking Glass... he saw a LOT of death as a child, actually...)

Thank you! I unfortunately don't know of a post listing all of Bruce's childhood traumas. You've kind of already covered a lot of bases, Anon, but for the sake of completeness I'll go through all you've mentioned and the traumatic incidents I can recall too:

Bruce falls into a well full of bats and develops a phobia in response [notable post-Crisis flashback in Batman: The Man Who Falls]

At five years old, Bruce's favorite story to have Thomas read to him every night for a month is “The Veldt” by Ray Bradbury, which is largely about kids with such neglectful parents that they bond with an automated house and then leave their parents for dead [mentioned by Bruce(s) in Batman/Superman (2013) #2]

Bruce witnessed his father performing surgery on a dying man [flashback in Batman: The Long Halloween]

Thomas reads to Bruce “The Animals and the Pit” by Alexander Nikolaevich Afanasyev, a story containing cannibalism and brutal fights for survival [flashback in Batman (2016) #74]

Thomas had Bruce watch horror movies with him, with Martha having to comfort Bruce afterwards in a bit of an unorthodox way... by promising that if they died, his parents would haunt him [flashback in Detective Comics (2016) #1027 -- Ghost Story]

Bruce experienced neglect as a child, with his father's parenting style being potrayed in multiple stories as authoritarian, which led to Bruce idolizing him and craving his approval, but running to Martha for comfort when his father was too harsh [notable flashbacks in Batman: The Dark Knight II (2011) #12, but bits of this can be seen in Batman: The Long Halloween, Batman: Hush, Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #58, Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on a Serious Earth etc.]

Bruce had a friend called Celia Small for a while, whom he adored. He watched her die of diptheria while he recovered, blaming himself for it [mentioned in Batman: Through the Looking Glass]

Bruce was sent to a private school as a child, which he resented as being "sent away"; the school is described as hell, a place where children were beaten, humiliated and had to fight off the sexual advances of older teachers. Bruce gets spanked as physical punishment by the headmaster, who turns out to be a serial killer, because Bruce glimpses the severed head of his only friend Robert as it happens [flashbacks in Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #7 -- Gothic]

Bruce accidentally shoots a duck with a rifle his friend Mooley had brought with them, and the death of the animal becomes a traumatic memory associated with the death of his parents, because of the gun [Batman: Secrets #4]

Bruce's childhood friend, Tommy Elliot... um. I guess I can just list Tommy Elliot, but the most direct traumatic experience at the time must've been having to stop Thomas from killing another kid, after which Thomas was put in a psychiatric institution [flashback in Detective Comics (1937) #837]

Bruce's father hits him while angry about a stock investment, with Bruce declaring in childish rage to his mother afterwards that he wants him dead... on the same day that his parents got gunned down, because Bruce's survivor's guilt needed more ammunition [flashback in Batman (1940) #430]

And then there's the shooting of his parents at the tender age of 8 years old! So all of this is prior to that! Two dead friends, one who avoided him after the unfortunate duck incident, and one friend who had a violent breakdown and got taken away... And Bruce attempted suicide after his parents died too, as told in Batman (2016) #12.

[otterloreart]

Stardew Valley fanart!

I'm not sure if there's a headcanon shared by the Stardew Valley community about the secret statues or if there's any additional canon information but I made my own headcanons up about them! More under cut.

??HMTGF?? headcanon:

HMTGF is obviously a robot made up by our resident child prodigy/engineer, Maru. Maru created HMTGF as a child and it was meant to be an imaginary friend who could assist on mechanical engineering projects. She used household materials.

In order to bring HMTGF to life, Maru attempted to use the souls of sea creatures. Don't worry, ultimately no sea creatures were harmed in the making of HMTGF, but suffice it to say: Penny read a book about exorcising the souls of creatures and animating objects using them. Demetrius had to explain to them that it wasn't appropriate to use animals in this manner (He tried to explain what ethics boards approval entails but Robin just made a blanket "no including live animals in your experiments" rule).

Anyways, you find HMTGF abandoned in the dumpter behind Joja. Perhaps the sea cucumber's soul is successfully transferred into HMTGF, but who knows. It doesn't seem to move.

??Pinkylemon??

Pinkylemon is a representation of a little brownie-like creature that lives in Gus's home. Like fantasy brownies and other elves, Pinky cleans up the Saloon in exchange for bowls of milk or other treats. One time Gus was out of milk so he gave it duck mayonnaise, which it loved even more.

The statue of Pinkylemon was made by Leah out of wood, after she found out about the creature. Stockings and shoes were sewn by Evelyn, after she found out that a brownie lived with Gus, so thats why it has little clothes on the statue. Elliot is the one who told Gus more about the brownies. All the villagers who know of Pinky are pleased that a creature has come to the center of town.

??Foroguemon??

In the cutscene where Vincent and Jas (and the farmer) are spooked by what they see in the sewers, many people assume that they're seeing Krobus. But what if... they're not seeing Krobus, they're seeing Foroguemon?

Foroguemon is a frog that mutated in the sewers. Vincent eventually begins trying to feed him and becomes less afraid of him. Vincent sculpted the Foroguemon statue to prove that he was real, but nobody believed him; if you offer the strange bun to Vincent he gives you the statue and feeds the strange bun to Foroguemon.

[lgbtqreads]

Do you know any LGBTQ+ holiday books or winter books?

Sure do! You can find these here: https://lgbtqreads.com/romance/by-tropearchetype/

F/F

Matzo Match by Roz Alexander

Higher by Roz Alexander (Rosh HaShana)

A Masc for Purim by Roz Alexander

How to Excavate a Heart by Jake Maia Arlow (YA)

Snow Globe by Georgia Beers

All I Want for Christmas by Georgia Beers

Checking it Twice by Lucy Bexley

*Make the Season Bright by Ashley Herring Blake

Take Me Home by Lorelie Brown (Thanksgiving) (Amz)

*Most Wonderful by Georgia Clark

Kiss Her Once For Me by Alison Cochrun

Mistletoe by Lyn Gardner

Season of Love by Helena Greer

Mangos & Mistletoe by Adriana Herrera

Under a Falling Star by Jae (Christmas)

Under the Mistletoe by Everly James

In the Event of Love by Courtney Kae (Christmas)

Collie Jolly by Leigh Landry (Christmas)

All I Want for Christmas by Clare Lydon

All I Want for Valentine’s by Clare Lydon

Christmas in Mistletoe by Clare Lydon (Amz)

Holly and Ivy by TB Markinson and Miranda MacLeod

Stocking Stuffers by Erin McLellan

Party Favors by Erin McLellan

The Holiday Trap by Roan Parrish

The Christmas Ball by Lily Seabrooke

Silent Night by Lily Seabrooke

Eight Kinky Nights by Xan West (Chanukah)

M/M

The Geek Who Saved Christmas by Annabeth Albert

Catered All the Way by Annabeth Albert (Christmas)

A (Fake) Boyfriend for Christmas by Sean Ashcroft

Faux Ho Ho by ‘Nathan Burgoine

Felix Navidad by ‘Nathan Burgoine

Hearts Alight by Elliot Cooper (Hanukkah) (Amz)

Real World by AJ Cousins (Christmas)

Glass Tidings by AJ Cousins (Christmas)

You’re a Mean One, Matthew Prince by Timothy Janovsky

Candy Hearts by Erin McLellan

His for Hanukkah by Reese Morrison  – T (Amz)

A Boyfriend for Christmas by Jay Northcote

A Family For Christmas by Jay Northcote

What Happens at Christmas by Jay Northcote (Amz)

The Longest Night by EE Ottoman – T

The Holiday Trap by Roan Parrish

Finding My Elf by David Valdes

Kissing Santa Claus by Max Walker

Red Envelope by Atom Yang (Lunar New Year) (Amz)

M/F

The Mistletoe Motive by Chloe Liese – DF

Bottle Rocket by Erin McLellan – BM

F/NB

Christmas Inn Maine by Chelsea M. Cameron (Demigirl)

NB/NB

A Very Enby Christmas by Eli Wray

M/F/M

Her Christmas Cookie by Katrina Jackson

[hiveworks]

June is winding down, but our recommendations are never ending. Now is also a great time to remind you that our creators are supported by ad rev. When you read these comics, be sure to white list their websites and support your favorite creators!⁠

Ghost Junk Sickness by @studiocartridge

Trigger Elliot is a bounty hunter who travels around the galaxy with his not-so-fully-licensed-and-technically-illegal-hunting-partner Vahn Gavotte. They're lousy at what they do and often resort to petty tactic just to get a bounty. This is their life. Their home planet, June 7, is a world rebuilding itself form an inexplicable catastrophic phenomenon that destroyed 75% of the planet's surface. It has been 5 years since the destruction of June 7 and the planet now thrives on the transient and growing population of bounty hunters. Trigger and Vahn's routine changes when an ambiguous huge bounty surfaces; an alleged bounty hunter killer named "the Ghost" with frightening abilities and an unknown motive. When Trigger's past catches up with him, there begins a strain on his and Vahn's hunting dynamic, forcing them to become further involved in chasing the elusive and unpredictable ghost. Ghost Junk Sickness is an action packed sci-fi LGBTQ+ comic created by CARTRIDGE.

Kochab by Sarah Webb

Kochab is a YA wlw fantasy comic about two girls lost in a pile of ruins under the woods, inspired by various myths and fairytales. A lost skier trying to survive a snowy wilderness and find her way back to her village stumbles across and awakens a fire spirit trying to fix the home that she’s let fall apart around her.

Shaderunners by Alex Assan & Lin Darrow

A thousand years ago, the last colour in the world faded to grey. Now, after the great archaeological discovery of Queen Sorizahana’s shade-stocked tomb, it stands ready to enter the world again. Ironwell City will become the birthplace of the burgeoning colour industry, where colour is pumped out of factories, poured into perfumed bottles and sold at exorbitant prices to those wealthy enough to afford the luxury. At least, that’s the plan according to the Five Financiers of the Sorizahana excavation. One part Prohibition fantasy, one part Robin Hood, and a whole lot of epic heist, Shaderunners follows a group of ragtag bootleggers and bohemians who band together in an effort to steal colour from the wealthy echelons of Ironwell’s high society. Among them: a philosopher, a puppeteer, a gutter rat, an opera singer, a naval officer and a hopeless romantic. Together, they run The Glass Dial, former watch shop and future night club, where all the house drinks run red. Speak easy, pal, ‘cause the road to ruin is paved with good intentions.

Augustine by @windywallflower

Augustine follows the adventure of August and her friends: Brick, Heti and Ande as they survive in the perilous region known as the Crater. You can call them all Trouble (with the capital T) as they wrack up bounties for their rowdiness, most especially from the local head honcho Tanto the Bull. During these escapades, however, the group stumbles into an ancient artifact, a possible piece of an old myth surrounding the Crater. This discovery soon leads them down a path of chaos, chased by bounty hunters and old forgotten gods. This comic uses aspects of Greek Mythology, and delves into concepts of ancient relics and the deities they represent and what it means to find your own family.

[katherinearandez]

Who created the disassembly drones?

We’re told in the first episode by Uzi that the murder drones were sent by JCJensen, and presumably made by the company as well. However, this is thrown out in the next episode when we learn through flashbacks that they started out as worker drones. Yes, they were originally manufactured by JCJensen, but what I’m interested in learning is who modified them into killing machines, when this happened on the timeline, and why it was done?

Of course I have a theory, but this one makes a lot of inferences between the shows past and present to try to piece together the middle part.

It all began with Tessa and Cyn. While some distinguish between Cyn and the absolute solver, I don’t and won’t in this post. Cyn is not the absolute solver; but I believe she has fully embraced it and the powers it entails. I don’t see her as a victim or a helpless host; rather as, at best, an accomplice partnered with the entity which is the absolute solver, or, at worst, the ultimate mastermind, with the solver being a tool at her disposal.

After Tessa brought Cyn into her home, Cyn began the work of recruitment. She began spreading the absolute solver among the drones working in the Elliot household, infecting them and bringing them under her control. A YouTube video helped me understand what was happening in this episode, because initially, I was very confused 🫠 It’s a great channel and if you have questions about what is happening in this show, I highly recommend their videos.

After infecting all the drones and biding her time, Cyn made her move, using the drones under her control to massacre the gala.

At first I thought the extra points of yellow light in this scene were Cyns eldritch cameras spreading out… but those are x signs. The points of light are infected worker drones under Cyns control. Here’s a shot from just a few frames forward, which confirms this.

Cyn even had J under her control.

So Cyn not only infected all the background drones with the absolute solver, but Tessa’s salvaged drones as well.

After the gala massacre, there’s a long blackout of information. We only have hints as to what happened next, but I think I’ve worked it out.

After the massacre, JCJensen arrived at the Elliot’s mansion and immediately started running damage control, likely confiscating all their technology and taking measures to hush Tessa. We see federal penalties mentioned throughout the episode, giving the company a compelling incentive to cover up what happened, aside from potential damage to consumer perception and tanked stock prices.

This is how Tessa ended up employed at JCJensen; I think she agreed to keep quiet about what happened at the gala in exchange for technician training and an inside track on unfolding events. Maybe she didn’t want to be separated from N, J and V, who at this point would have been reduced to evidence by the company. To Tessa, however, friendless and newly orphaned, they were all she had left of her old life. A job at the company which was treating them like secret bastard children would have kept her close to them, or at least given her occasional access. Or, maybe she wanted revenge on the rogue AI that killed her family, or maybe she just wanted to understand it. Lots of possible motives for this potential scenario.

I think Cyn either escaped the initial roundup, or escaped from JCJensen sometime down the line. Then she began a genocidal campaign against humanity, infecting more and more drones, and using them to kill.

This created huge problems for humanity on earth, but also the company, who would have found themselves in the hot seat, with governments and citizenry alike pointing the finger at them and their tech.

The company’s solution? Fight fire with fire. They created the first disassembly drone models, designed to exterminate Cyn and her army. And so began a war.

I don’t think the first murder drone models were based off N, J and V. I think they were an original line of units, who did their job fine for a while. But eventually, I think Cyn managed to infect them with the solver, and this made matters even worse for the humans. Eldritch-enhanced worker drones were bad enough, but drones armed to the teeth and now turned against their creators? This must have seemed like humanity’s 11th hour.

I believe it was at this point N, V and J were retrofitted into disassembly drones, as a desperate Hail Mary project, lead by none other than Tessa, their original savior. This was her final bid to turn the tide and destroy the monster she felt responsible for unleashing upon the world. Perhaps she hoped to use the absolute solver against itself, modifying its coding just enough that it would be immune to reintegration into Cyns network. Maybe she hoped her “dumpster pets” indentured gratitude to her would be enough to keep them loyal to her, the company, and humanity.

I think this desperate final play worked, and Cyn and her forces were actually beaten back as the company ran with Tessa’s idea, cloning her original three drones and their Cyn-immune software to create the army they needed to save the world.

Meanwhile, the war raging on earth caught the attention of other colonies and exoplanets, who at some point went ahead and uploaded Cyn to study her. Cyn may have helped this process along, posing as a human and communicating virtually with the exoplanets to foster the idea and facilitate the transfer.

Once uploaded, Cyn was unable to assimilate enough drones to launch a full scale offensive on these exoplanets(notably, places Tessa and dogs weren’t), possibly due to time constraints, cybersecurity obstacles or a lack of resources. Rather than play the long game, Cyn opted for a nuclear solution.

On earth, JCJensen saw what was happening in the colonies and assumed Cyn had infected all the worker drones on any exoplanet she infiltrated. They sent their disassembly drones to eliminate the threat they assumed the worker drones posed.

And it’s at this point that things start to get complicated and speculative(lol, jk, this entire post is obvs totes complicated and speculative).

In episode 6, we are directly told by Tessa and J that the batch of murder drones we’ve been watching were actually sent to copper 9 by Cyn, not JCJensen…

… Unless Tessa is lying about this to manipulate them. My distrust of Tessa is well documented, though I don’t know what her ends are at this point. Clearly something complicated happened with Cyn, Tessa, N, J and V(the originals?) toward the end of the war. Maybe Cyn managed to find a way to control the murder drones by taking over their administration?

She “reformatted their memories to soup”, hence Tessa being so excited that N could remember her. But why send them to copper 9? A colony she had already successfully wiped of human life?

I actually think it was a deception.

I think that after Cyn’s huge success with the exoplanets, she decided to do the same thing on earth, end the war once and for all with a final, devastating blow. There was one thing standing in her way; Tessa, the only human she cared for, was on earth. Imploding the planet core there would mean sacrificing Tessa. Unwilling to do this, Cyn tried to lure Tessa off of earth by sending her treasured original trio of drones to copper 9.

This clearly didn’t work for nearly twenty years, because that’s the span of time between the murder drones arriving in copper 9 and the events of the show. We ‘know’ this because Uzi is 18-20, and her mother was killed early enough that she has few to no memories of her(that we know). Something on earth held her up for 20 some odd years, maybe company business, but it’s honestly anyone’s guess as to what it was 🤷🏼‍♀️

Eventually, she did take the bait and follow her drones out to copper 9, and as soon as she was clear of Earth…

This is why the disassembly drones weren’t aware of earths destruction, why N was so shocked to see this satellite image. Earth was still intact last they saw(which, to be fair, was 20 years ago).

Depressingly, this likely makes Tessa the last human in existence. If not the very last, she’s certainly now a member of an extremely critically endangered species.

And that’s a wrap! Now we’re caught up with the present and just waiting on more episodes. I can’t wait to see if any of my theory is correct 😁