Stardew Valley Farmer - Tumblr Posts
So... I rejected him a day before our wedding, checked to see if we were still getting married at 9 hearts- we were, I gave him a pomegranate to get back to 10 hearts, and then we got married the next day! I feel like this should be the next SDV challenge. If you attempt this, please tag me!
I think I broke the game. I proposed to Elliott before seeing his 10-heart event, so we'll be married before I see it most likely, and THEN, because it rained the day after, I bought a second pendant. Any suggestions for what I should try doing with it?
This is gold, and I love it so much!!
Btw I love the update!!!
y'all enjoying the new update so far??
Mermaid farmer Blueberry ft. Sebastian
the concept of the farmer being a literal anomaly to the townspeople bc of their in-game features and add-ons will always b so funny to me. so heres a little silly doodle i made.
DF
My first SV farmer, no thoughts. Just started discovering the game, in a very depressed state. Fell in love with both the game, and as you could guess - Shane.
So I did a fair amount of Shane stuff 👀💦 Enjoy
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Smorchok and X-Y-11
I made these two in more of a story purpose
They’re themed after berries because berry seasons in Stardew Valley are my favorite 🤧💗
They both have separate stories, I have yet to make proper refs for them with all the details
For now I can tell that Smorchok was meant to be one of forest folk, possibly half dwarf. And X-Y-11 is an alien scientist.
I’ll definitely draw more of them and their lore in future, stay tuned! It’s about time I indulged more into my OCes…
I want to eat him
Mint and Abigail-
Mint doesn't like the mines, especially with all the bugs.
Also, if you look closely, you can see that my markers are drying out on me.
Mint Stuff 2
Ft a Haley Cameo
I wasn't expecting to draw Mint so much. She was originally a one off piece I wanted to make since I got into Stardew Valley but then I drew some more stuff and art of others' characters on here and yeah.
Guess my brain just really, really needed something to latch on to, haha!
this is my farmer her name is LITERALLY Cringefail and if u don’t like her u can leave!!!!
💐 Start reading my Cringefail Farmer comic here
☕️ Support me on Ko-Fi!
what do you use for the sprites you do
Gonna be entirely and totally honest
Ibis Paint X, Dot brush, 1.0 size.
One little itty bitty bit at a time. Though for the actual sprite I used an Itch.io Stardew character maker, and edited from there!!
I think Elliott's hardest time he would have in a relationship would be the boundaries he shouldn't cross. We've seen that this man is so unaware of his actions that even the game acknowledges it and we even have a canon moment where he does potentially overstep his boundaries depending on what the player says. The good thing is that he isn't so vain or prideful to get angry when you call him out. He actually listens which is a very green flag.
If I were to come up with a reason, I would say it's because he's stuck in a fairytale. He's very clearly lonely and stuck reading and writing books instead of talking to others. But books often exist in a world of fiction that should not be replicated one-on-one. Romances can encourage unhealthy habits (like kissing someone without their consent) and some stories can romanticize certain actions in relationships or in pursuit of a relationship that in real life, aren't healthy.
So in the beginning, he would fumble a lot with wording, some actions and boundaries. But as the farmer keeps him in check, he can slowly learn real life boundaries and what makes a relationship healthy. I feel like that would also reflect in his writing. Like the romance in his first book is a little on the romanticized toxic end but in the sequels they become healthier or the love interest gets swapped out for a better person.
Elliott Scrap 🦀
Elliott being a smitten man, as usual. Fem!Farmer, she/her pronouns. No other warnings necessary. I'll find a place for this scene eventually.
Elliott’s boots thunk softly against the stone bridge leading into town, his route illuminated by warm yellow light. He looks up at the rusty lamp posts, his breath puffing out into clouds of vapor in front of his face. It’s two days into Spring already, but frost still clings to the emerald green grass framing the cobblestone path, and Elliott tucks his nose low into the collar of his jacket.
The windows of the saloon burn a fiery orange, and Elliott picks up his pace. After hours of staring at ink on half-empty pages, and with no solace found in the sounds of waves kissing the shore outside of his home, he needs a distraction.
Tied to a post outside of the saloon is a horse, its ears flicking back and forth as it grazes on the overgrown grass breaking through the cement. Its coat is dusty brown, with a dark brown mane, and a very new looking saddle strapped to its back.
The horse picks its head up, sensing his presence. Its ears flick again, and if Elliott knew anything about horses, he might say it looks curious. He doesn’t though, so he walks past without a second glance, and up the steps.
He pushes the door open. It’s not a slow night by any means, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the cheery jingling of the bell above the door as Elliott pushes inside. The warmth from the fireplace hits him square in the face, and he relishes the way it melts the chill settled into his bones. Gus looks up to greet him, and Elliott knows it’s more out of habit than anything else. Just standard, to welcome a guest.
Elliott looks around, expecting to see Leah at their usual table next to the jukebox, but surprisingly, she’s nowhere to be seen. He frowns, resigning himself to a night of drinking alone, when something catches his attention.
The farmer stands alone at the bar, loosening the strap of her shoulder guard.
The last time he saw her was at his shack on the beach, two weeks ago. He’d poured his heart out into a heap on the floor of his shack, and she carefully placed every piece back into his palms. She’d been wearing overalls and brown work gloves, with steel-toed boots and the straw hat she won the spring prior for achieving first place in the egg hunt. She’d looked like a proper farmer, and a little like an angel.
But here, in the flickering firelight of Stardrop Saloon, she looks like she’s stepped out of an adventure novel. Dressed like a heroine whose only goal is to slay foul beasts and protect those weaker than herself, there’s a small array of leather holsters criss-crossing over her torso, cuts and bruises on her arms, and fresh white bandages wrapped around her knuckles. There’s a large black stain on the front of her shirt, and he wonders what the hell she’d done to get it.
She looks up, and their eyes meet.
Recognition passes over her face, and then she smiles.
He makes a beeline for the bar, the restless buzz in his chest getting louder with every step, like a swarm of cicadas in the summer.
“Hello, Farmer,” Elliot says, the buzz starting to make his ears ring. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Elliott. I was hoping I’d see you tonight,” she says softly, a smile spreading across her lips. Elliott blinks, and thoughts he’d never dare entertain flicker like firelight over the inside of his eyelids. She’s so pretty. Why is she so pretty? “I thought about stopping by your cabin, but I figured I should check here first, just in case.”
Elliott feels lightheaded. “You were looking for me?”
She hums, nodding as she turns away to search through her bag. “Last time I dropped by, you looked like you were running out of ink.”
“Ah. I was planning to purchase a refill from Pierre in the morning.” Elliott winces. He’d put it off for too long, and his plans to write well into the night were dashed when his fountain pen ran out of ink in the middle of a chapter.
“No need. I collected some for you.” She turns around, a glass inkwell standing proudly in the center of her palm. “I hope this is enough, but if it isn’t I can bring more later.”
Elliott’s lips part on a breath as he plucks the bottle out of her hand. The glass is heavy, sturdy between his fingers and sapphire blue. He whistles softly, a reverent sound. “It’s lovely. Where did you get it? The ones at Pierre’s don’t look like this.”
“Oh, no, I made it.”
Elliott jerks his head so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. “You made this? All of it?”
“Well, not really. I harvested the ink from squids, but I had leftover corks from my wine bottles, and the bottle is made out of glass shards I collected from the beach.” She chuckles, tapping her fingertip against the glass. “Who knew smelting furnaces were great for glassmaking?”