lalawlrd

[lalawlrd]

Whoopsthy Daisthy

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Pairing: Sebastian x F!Farmer (Rosie)

Rating: E

WC: 2439

Contains: Foreplay, boobies, piercings, intimate piercings, piercings getting trapped together, literally the most stupid crack fic ever.

Summary: Dating an emo is all fun and games, until an unfortunate entanglement with each others piercings results in the most mortifying ordeal one ever has to go through.

"Sebastian slapped his palm over the phone and managed to unlock it with a smear of his thumb.

“Who are we calling? Dr. Harvey? A piercer? An undertaker for when I murder you?” Rosie demanded.

“Asth much aths I like the idea of deatsh right now, I think Dr. Harvey isth probably our bestht sthot at being sthaved.”

“Are you purposely picking every single word that has an S in it? You sound fucking ridiculous.”

Sebastian scowled, or at least he tried to, given how hard it was to pull a face with your tongue attached to a nipple and drool pouring down your chin. “I’m trying to sthave your nipple, tsthank you very much.”

Read on AO3 or continue below:

“I fucking love your tits,” Sebastian groaned deeply, large palms pressing against warm, supple skin, feeling the coolness of studded nipples below.

Rosie squeaked when he squeezed hard then followed it with a deep laugh when he licked his lips like she was a cone of ice cream waiting to be devoured.

He nudged her back on the bed, head landing with a thump.

Sebastian’s tongue landed on her neck, studded tongue swiping the sheen on sweat she’d accumulated beneath her ear working in the yard in the hot, summer sun.

“Sebastian!” Rosie whined, twisting her neck to get away from his onslaught, somewhat because it was gross but mostly because it tickled.

He shook his head, black hair from his head falling to her cheek, adding to the soft, tickling sensation starting to pulse through her whole body.

Finally, after lots of pleading, Sebastian sat back on his heels, eyes raking over his girlfriend’s body.

Her shirt was sweat-laden and sticking to her torso, cotton shorts covered in dirt, riding up her equally as dirty thighs.

“Stop it,” Rosie squirmed. “I should shower first. I’m filthy.”

That earned a low growl from Sebastian’s chest.

“I truly don’t give a fuck,” he murmured, hands moving to the hem of her shirt. “In fact…” he lifted it up and shimmied it over the arms she had raised above her head, “it makes it even hotter.”

She gasped when he yanked her upright, mouth finding her neck again as he reached behind her back and unclasped her bra one handed, a skill he’d become rather adept in since they started dating.

The shirt and bra were tossed to the side, Sebastian’s own shirt quickly followed, then Rosie heard the jingle of his belt being unfastened. He pushed her back down and brought his lips back to her neck. But Sebastian didn’t linger for long. He took his tongue and began to drag it over her collarbone, down the dips in her chest, chasing every inch of sweat until he found her pierced nipples.

There was something about the way Rosie squirmed when he paid them particular attention, flicking his tongue over the right one while his hand couldn’t bear to leave the left one unattended, gently pulling the nipples between his fingers and rolling the piercing gently.

“ Fuck… fuck… oh, FUCK!” Rosie screamed.

The last “fuck” wasn’t particularly one of pleasure though and Sebastian pulled his head back to ask what was wrong, but then he was quick to realise what the problem was.

When he pulled away, he felt his tongue nearly get yanked out of his mouth.

“Oh. Thuck…” he whispered.

Okay… okay. Don’t panic. The piercings are tangled, just… detach yourself quickly and slowly.

He could feel Rosie’s panicked breathing against his chin.

“Iths okay. I’ll juthst do thith,” he informed her, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and attempting to detangle them blind, given he couldn’t see just what the fuck he was doing.

But his fingers weren’t doing him any favours. If anything, every clumsy attempt made it worse and Rosie hissed louder.

“Sebastian! Ow, don’t— ow!” she squeaked, her hands hovering uselessly around her breasts, too afraid to move in case they tore something precious.

He tried again, slower, but the piercings were well and truly locked together. Almost like they were fused.

“Hwat the thfuck do we do?”

“What?” Rosie groaned.

“I thaid hwat the thfuck do we do?”

“I don’t fucking know! Get some pliers and cut off your piercing!”

Sebastian scoffed, “I'm not cutthing my pierthing off! You cut yourths!”

“I’m not risking a fucking nipple!” Rosie bellowed.

Hm. She was right, Sebastian certainly didn’t want to sacrifice her perfectly perky and pink nipples either.

“Then call the thfucking dthoctor,” he instructed. “I cthan’t do it, I thsound ridiculousth.”

“Yeah, you do sound ‘ridiculousth’, you fucking donkey. Where’s your phone?”

“In the loungth room,” Sebastian gestured vaguely behind him.

“You mean to tell me,” she said slowly, “we have to waddle through the house, tongue-to-tit, to get to your phone?”

Sebastian shrugged, well, as much as he could in their current position without compromising an important body part. “Unlessth you’vthe got one hidden in your underwearth, yeths.”

Rosie groaned, but began to shuffle sideways to get off the bed with Sebastian still crouched atop of her.

“Eathsy, eathsy. Ow, fuck, eathsy, I sthaid!” Sebastian hissed.

“You think I’m trying to make this worse?” Rosie snapped, grabbing a hold of his head to lock it in place while she stood up.

Now she was standing, the tugging got worse. Sebastian was significantly taller than Rosie, so he was now crouched over, trying to keep his head planted to her chest to avoid any more unnecessary pain.

Rosie began shuffling toward the door with her arms half-wrapped around his head to hold him still.

“Thithss iths stho humiliating,” Sebastian muttered.

“Shut the fuck up” Rosie shot back, fumbling for the doorknob over his head. “This is your fault, for being so fucking insatiable!”

“You have great tiths, hwhat can I thsay?”

Rosie groaned and clipped him over the ear as she pulled the door open and shuffled into the hallway awkwardly until they reached the coffee table.

“Maybe—” Sebastian paused, “—ith I tilt my head like thiths,”

“No!” Rosie barked. “You do not move!”

“But my panthsts keep sthlipping!” he protested, grabbing blindly at his jeans that were sliding down his hips.

Rosie bent awkwardly at the waist to let him reach toward the coffee table where his phone sat. Unfortunately, the motion caused the piercings to twist just enough for both of them to yelp in perfect harmony.

Sebastian slapped his palm over the phone and managed to unlock it with a smear of his thumb.

“Who are we calling? Dr. Harvey? A piercer? An undertaker for when I murder you?” Rosie demanded.

“Asth much aths I like the idea of deatsh right now, I think Dr. Harvey isth probably our bestht sthot at being sthaved.”

“Are you purposely picking every single word that has an S in it? You sound fucking ridiculous.”

Sebastian scowled, or at least he tried to, given how hard it was to pull a face with your tongue attached to a nipple and drool pouring down your chin. “I’m trying to sthave your nipple, tsthank you very much.”

Rosie huffed, “Fine. Call him.”

Sebastian thumbed through his contacts one-handed, awkwardly holding the phone flat against Rosie’s chest, right in front of his eyes, so it wouldn’t slip.

He clicked on the number for the clinic and put the phone on speaker.

“You have to thtalk,” Sebastian instructed, passing the phone to Rosie.

“I wouldn’t expect Sylvester the Cat to make the call now, would I?”

“Thfuck off.”

“Why? Did you see a ‘puddy tat’?”

Rosie grinned wickedly at her own joke, which only made Sebastian roll his eyes. Well, as much as a man with his face plastered to a boob could roll them.

Before he could fire back, the call connected.

“Dr. Harvey’s clinic, this is Maru speaking.”

Oh. Oh shit. Fuck. No. No. No.

“Uh, Maru, heyyyyyyy ,” Rosie grimaced.

“Rosie! Hey, what’s up? Are you hurt?”

Only my pride , Rosie thought.

“No, just… uh, can you put Harvey on?”

Maru clicked her tongue, “Ah, sorry, Rosie. He’s in with Alex, he’s got his annual checkup today. Can I leave a message?”

Sure! Your brother is currently attached to my tits by the mouth and is drooling all over me!

Thankfully, her mouth went for something marginally more socially acceptable than her brain’s explanation.

“Uh… it’s kind of urgent,” she said, glaring down at Sebastian who was even more redder in the face than before.

“What kind of urgent?” Maru asked.

“Medical. Just… not the kind I can explain over the phone.”

Maru paused, “I mean, you’re ringing the clinic, I assume it’s medical. But if it’s so urgent I’ll need to interrupt the checkup, I kind of need to know what’s going on so I can tell Dr. Harvey. I am a nurse, everything is confidential.”

“Okay, uh… Sebastian’s got his tongue piercing caught.”

“Oh, like on a shirt or food or something? You can bring him in and I’ll—”

“Not on a shirt , Maru…”

There was a beat of silence on the line, “…Where, then?”

Rosie shut her eyes, inhaled slowly through her nose, and muttered, “My nipple bar.”

Another pause, then she heard a high pitched choking noise.

Sebastian groaned, his forehead pressing harder into Rosie’s chest. “Justht thfucking kill me now.”

“Right,” Maru coughed. “I… see. That’s… certainly a first for me.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a first for us too,” Rosie grimaced as she spoke. “Look, is Harvey going to be long?”

“I’ll make sure he’s there as soon as he’s done here. And in the meantime I’d suggest just staying put… don’t tug or pull.”

Rosie scoffed. “Oh, don’t tug or pull? Wow, thanks, Maru, that never occurred to me.”

Sebastian snorted against her, which only earned him a sharp tug to his hair and yelp from them both when he flinched and didn’t take Maru’s advice and pulled.

“Okay, see you at home tonight, Seb,” Maru said with a croak to her voice, then the line went dead.

“She’s so telling your mom,” Rosie cackled.

Sebastian groaned, burying his face deeper into Rosie’s chest, “I think we thshould get a towel.” He cupped his hands beneath his chin, catching the copious amounts of drool that was now pouring from his mouth, though it wasn’t of much use. The floor and his jeans that were now halfway down his thighs were soaked.

Rosie agreed, her own wet shins weren’t too happy either.

She gripped either side of his head to hold him close and began to back up towards the kitchen, dragging him with her until she reached the oven and swatted wildly behind her, craning her neck to grab a dish cloth.

“Here,” she said once she’d located it, shoving it under his chin. “Clean yourself up, you look like a dog.”

“I thsthought I thsounded like a cat.”

“Both,” Rosie said plainly, gripping his head again and walking him back to the lounge. “Okay, we need to open the front door so Harvey can get in, then we can sit down.”

“Sthit down? How?”

“You sit on the sofa and I’ll sit on your lap.”

Sebastian nodded, then winced, then let the woman with her hands fisted in his hair guide him blindly around the place until the door was unlocked and his calves hit the sofa.

Gently, he sat, Rosie following him until he was able to rest his aching neck against the back of the couch.

Then he became innately aware of how suspicious they looked. Sebastian was on the sofa, mouth open Rosie’s boob. They were both shirtless. His pants were now around his ankles and Rosie was perched on top of him… kinda looked like…

“Sebastian! You’re a fucking animal!” Rosie screamed, shifting her hips up when she felt something hard press against her thigh.

“Hwhat? This is exacthtly hwat we’d be doing if we didn’t get sthtuck!”

Before she could scold him any further, there was a knock at the door.

“Hello! Doctor!”

“Thfuck, can you… maybe sthit down so he doesthn’t sthee?”

“No!” Rosie said loudly. “You’re the one who thinks this is hot! Deal with it!”

Harvey gently nudged the door open and Rosie turned her head just in time to see his eyes blow wide when he took in the sight in front of him.

“So, uh… what happened?”

“Well, clearly , we were trying to have sex then someone’s stupid tongue piercing got caught on my nipple piercing,” Rosie said loudly and sarcastically, like the raging boner in Sebastian’s underwear wasn’t telling enough.

Harvey’s eyes flicked between Sebastian’s drooling, tethered tongue and Rosie’s mortified face, and then down to the obvious bulge pressing against Rosie’s thigh. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Right… well, this is definitely a new one.”

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, willing the bulge in his pants to deflate faster than it was, cheeks burning nred hot. “I’m sorry for ththis. It wath a mistake.”

“Yeah, ‘mistake’ is one way to put it…” Rosie mumbled.

Harvey cleared his throat again and set his bag to the side, pulling on some disposable gloves and kneeling beside them. “Okay, let’s see if we can get this untangled without too much pain. Although I have to say, this might be the most intimate consult I’ve ever had.”

Rosie groaned when he gave her nipple bar a little tester-twist.

Nope. Didn’t budge.

She watched as Harvey manoeuvred his head around, trying to see the underside of Sebastian’s tongue without copping an eye-full of saliva.

“Rosie, do you have any pliers?” 

Rosie blinked, then glanced around the room as Sebastian whimpered softly, clearly worried by what pliers actually meant. “Uh… toolbox, top cupboard in kitchen.

Harvey gave a small nod and located said toolbox, returning with the supplies he needed. “I know it sounds odd, but sometimes a pair of needle-nose pliers helps to gently loosen the piercing. Don’t worry, I’m going to be very gentle. We just need to loosen the ball.”

Sebastian let out a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling Rosie’s fingers tighten in his hair.

He felt Harvey’s gloved finger begin to move his tongue around, then flinched when the pliers touched the tip of his tongue.

“Almost there…”

A second later, Harvey announced he was done and Rosie let go of Sebastian’s head that fell immediately back against the sofa.

His tongue felt heavy as he tried to pull it back inside his mouth but at least it finally moved freely, no longer tethered to Rosie.

“Ththank you,” he muttered, still not having full speech-control with his tongue that now felt naked without a bar through it.

Harvey smiled, “No problem. Though, I’d recommend paying attention to non-pierced parts of Rosie’s body from now on, hm?”

Sebastian’s cheeks burned bright red, “Yeah, lessthon definitely learned.”

Harvey packed up his bag and started to stand. “If you notice any swelling, pain or anything in the next few days, come by the clinic. Piercings can get irritated easily, especially after something like this. I’ll send my bill for 1000G tomorrow.”

“Got it,” Rosie said, mortified and now with Sebastian’s spit-covered dish rag against her bare chest.

Harvey left and Rosie turned quickly on her heels.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian asked.

“To shower.”

He jumped to his feet quickly, “Ooh, can I come?”

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

[lalawlrd]

Tell Me to Stay (2)

SDV Sebastian x GN! Reader, SDV Harvey x GN! Reader

WARNING: slight angst, mentions of reader being hurt physically and emotionally

Hiii! Thank you all so much for the support on the last chapter of this fic. There were so many things that I wanted to write but this chapter was REALLY long as it was, so I decided on making this a short series. Part 3 is already in the works! Hope you enjoy this one. ♡

Special dedication to @clevergirl143 and @upbeatrouge :) thank you for supporting my work!

masterlist | part 1

• • — ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ — • •

Nothing changed the day after.

The world continued to be.

Fire did not rain down from the skies. The mountains did not cave in and the Gem Sea never dried up. The skeletons and serpents lurking in the Skull Mines did not rise, did not seek revenge against those who scorned them. Instead, the earth continued to rejoice, singing the praises of existence. It stayed in its eternal dance around the warm summer sun, twirling and bringing about a new dawn. The day still relinquished its place in the sky to darkness, presided by the laws of the cycle Yoba had commanded since the birth of the beginning. The scent of summer spangles permeated the air, calling all of creation to sing the song of life. The blistering heat of this season remained. The never-ending, steady sequence that spirited the soul of reality forth did not halt, did not stutter or hesitate, did not falter. It remained as it was, as it, perhaps, always will be.

Yet I remained stagnant right where he left me.

I did not pause my routine. I rose as the sun did. I switched the television on to Welwick's Oracle, listening to the moods of the spirits that governed the hand of fate.

"The spirits are very happy today! They will do their best to shower everyone with good fortune," spoke the oracle, in her resonating tone that reminded me of the evil witch disguised as an old woman in those movies I used to watch with grandpa.

I scoffed. 'The spirits have a strange sense of humor,' I thought to myself.

Memories of the night prior flashed before my eyes. A haze of an adrenaline pounding heart, the pit in my stomach as it dropped, and the pieces that poked at whatever soft vessel was left.

A weeping, wallowing cavity found its way into my heart, like a stone that was tossed and was left to sink about in an endless, unknown abyss. So many emotions followed. Heartbreak, sadness, anger, numbness. All of them blended into one heavy stone sinking in the well of my chest.

My mind drew back to moments of him. I thought of the slight crook in his smile, his lips turning up more towards the right than the left. I recall the strum of his black painted fingernails on his bass, his face focused and head bopping lightly at every string. I remember when I realized I loved him. How freeing it felt to be released from denial, how right it was to free fall into his arms. But that was all in the past. A voice in the back of my mind, the one that still clung to hope that he would show up at my door, whispered, "It could have been the future." The voice wrought ideas of what was and what could have been. My mind reeled. I needed an escape.

Deftly, my hands answered. My feet took me to the front of my farm. I came back to myself at the rich, saccharine scent of ripe melons and star fruit mingling in the air. Wordlessly, mindlessly, I walked over, called by the smell. "Yes," I thought, "this will do." And so my fingers worked. I tended to the fields of my childhood. I showered each plant with water, pruning away deadweight leaves. I cultivated the earth, gathered what was ripe, repotted, and replanted. I felt sweat drip from my eyebrow to my neck. The sun burned ceaselessly at my back, but I continued to work. I focused on the tasks in front of me, drowning out the thought and the feel and the sounds of my heart ache.

Once the sun had turned over for the moon, I collapsed into my bed. Yoba had mercy tonight, it seemed, for I fell into a dreamless sleep as soon as my body relaxed into the plushness of my mattress.

I repeated my actions on the next day. And the day after that. And the one that followed.

On days when it stormed or when there was simply nothing for me to tend to on the farm, I turned to the Skull Mines. I pushed myself to the brink each time, barely teleporting out of there fast enough before fainting from exhaustion.

The cycle continued every single day. I leaned into it. It made me forget. Every night, my brain would be too muddled from exhaustion, my body way past spent and achy and sore, to even think of him.

One day, I woke from my slumber in an unfamiliar space. The first to reach my sense was a whiff of isopropyl alcohol. Then came the migraine. It pounded mercilessly against my head, knocking like it was threatening to burst my brain open. I groaned, reaching my hand up to massage the pain away.

"(Y/N)," I thought I heard someone say. I paid it no mind, groaning again as the pain continued its rampage behind my eyes.

"(Y/N)." I heard, for sure this time, clear and commanding. I opened my eyes to the sound. The bright fluorescent lights shining directly upon me burned my vision and I groaned as the pain in my head intensified. I waited, my vision slowly clearing the blurry image to see.. a face? I blinked rapidly.

"Hey, you're awake," came the voice, soft but grounding. The light finally sorted itself out and the face behind the voice was.. Doctor Harvey?

"Yes, you are correct." He smiled, kind and gentle.

"Did I pass out in the mines again?" I grumbled, my voice raspy from lack of use.

"That seems to be the case. Linus dropped you off around 2 PM," he confirmed. I nodded, sighing slightly before rising from the bed. Harvey quickly ran to my side, one hand on my back and the other firmly grasping my arm.

"Easy there, I had to stitch you up. We wouldn't want you reopening the wounds," he stated, gently guiding me up.

"Thank you, Doctor. I always appreciate it," I tell him sincerely. He looks at me for a second, his gaze running up and down, as if scanning for any hidden injury.

"Please, call me Harvey," he says, "and.. farmer, are you alright?" He questions. His eyes lock into mine. I get the vague feeling he isn't just asking about my injuries. Something about the question sends jolts through my body. Perhaps it was the gentle and nonjudgmental tone, teetering between personal and professional. Maybe it was the sudden realization that came with pondering the truth of the answer. Or maybe, just maybe, it was how raw it felt. I inhaled sharply, soothing the pain of a knife cleaving into my heart.

"Yes, Harvey," I answered after having composed myself, "I am quite well." I finished, a small smile on my face.

He looked unconvinced. He frowned slightly, staring at me for a moment longer before he nodded.

"Well then, you're free to go. Take care of yourself, farmer. As the doctor of this town, the health and wellbeing of the residents are my utmost priority. That includes you," he said. I nodded mutely, finally rising to my feet.

"Well, I gotta get going. Winter's tomorrow and I have to finish preparing the animals and the greenhouse," I answered, my back turned to him and already halfway to the door.

"(Y/N)," he called, my hand pausing mid-air, right above the knob of the pristine white door.

"Please, don't hesitate to reach out. I am here for you, to make sure you are okay beyond the physical," he affirmed, that same caring and reassuring tone never leaving his voice.

"Will do, doc," I said before I stepped foot into the chilly evening air.

Winter came in the night, silent and swift, evident by the white flakes forging a slow descent from the heavens. I followed through the same routine. Bathroom. Coffee. Horoscope.

I opened the door to step out, only to be greeted by a figure at my door. I halted suddenly at the unexpected visitor.

"Hey, good morning," greeted the man, small balls of snow gathering on the hair above his lips. His glasses fogged in the morning air. He held a plastic bag up from his gloved hand and I briefly caught the words "Stardrop Saloon" painted in a royal purple. "I brought you breakfast," he explained. Wordlessly, I stepped aside, silently gesturing for him to come in. He tilted his head in acknowledgment and stepped through the threshold. I closed the door behind him and turned to see him inspecting my home.

"Feel free to make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything? Tea? Water?" I asked politely.

He shook his head in response. "May I?" He asked, gesturing towards my dining table. I nodded. He settled himself in, plopping the bag of food on the table. He glanced up at me.

"Sit," he said, gesturing towards the opposite end of the table, where an empty chair waited. I obliged.

We sat in silence for a while. He pushed the bag towards me, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and averting his eyes.

"I wanted to see how you were doing," he explained after a long game of waiting for the other to break the silence.

"I'm doing great. The stitches held up all night." I lifted my shirt slightly, revealing the scabbing wound on my stomach. He glanced over with a slight furrow in his brows. He nodded after a while, seemingly deciding to trust my words. He said nothing again.

"Why did you come here?" I broke the silence this time. He caught my eyes, his own widening slightly like a deer caught in headlights.

"Yesterday, when I asked if you were alright, you said you were just fine, but your eyes told a different story," he finally admitted. I frowned in slight frustration. I didn't need him reading up on me like this.

"Look, Harvey, I appreciate you coming all this way to fulfill your medical duties, but I can assure you that I am in perfect health," I told him, wanting to get to understand the true motive behind his actions. There was no way a doctor would come to visit a patient, unannounced, just for the sake of "checking up" on them. As kind as Harvey was, that was simply out of bounds and way past his responsibilities as a physician.

He sighed, realizing he had been caught.

"I really did just want to make sure you were okay. I know it's not the most professional thing to do, but I wanted to be there for you as more than just a doctor. A friend, you can say," he sputtered out. He looked at me silently, his cheeks slightly flushed and his thigh bouncing slightly under his palm.

I felt a flicker in my heart. A gentle caress, a cautionary hand reaching out to a wounded animal. I breathed in deeply, the air expanding my lungs and easing the sudden tightness in my chest.

"I know it's about Sebastian, (Y/N)," he said. My heart stopped. "Every single person in Pelican Town was there to bid their farewell, besides you that is." A wave of anger surged through my veins, momentarily dizzying me.

"If you're here to gossip, go somewhere else," I spat defensively. He did not reply to my anger, instead just staring at me with those compassionate, understanding eyes. I felt something in my chest crack.

"You misunderstand my intentions. I apologize. I know it is unbecoming of me and I'm sorry if I have overstepped any boundaries, but.." He faltered, "you looked like.. like the light was sucked out you." His eyes held such sincerity that I breathed in a shaky breath, my throat clogging and my eyes beginning to burn. His gaze softened impossibly more.

"Let me in, (Y/N). Everyone needs someone in their corner," he said.

My hands, trembling and perspiring from the sudden onslaught of emotions, reached out and accepted the offering on the table.

[lalawlrd]

Maybe I Should Quit Smoking (Pt 1)

(A little Sebastian x Reader fic. Gender isn't specified for this one (if I remember correctly lol) and it's more platonic than anything. Please enjoy!)

The crickets were sining their cacophonous symphony proudly at the late hour, as if they were trying to win a talent show judged entirely by drunk gods and emotionally repressed woodland creatures. The night sky, ever the overachiever, glittered with constellations and lone stars— Orion flexing, Cassiopeia lounging dramatically, and that smug North Star twinkling like it knew something I didn’t.

It was yet another night up in the mountains. Cold. Quiet. Smelled like pine and broken dreams. I crouched in front of our house— the one Mom so proudly built with her bare hands, sheer willpower, and probably several illegal zoning violations— shielding my list from the wind like it was the last ember of civilization. It flickered, hissed, then caught, and I lit up.

Cigarettes were certainly a bad habit. Yes, yes. Boo hiss. I’d heard it all before. Everyone in town acted like I was actively spitting in the face of wellness every time I lit one. But I didn’t care. My life was already a bit of a dumpster fire rolling down a mountain. What’s one more Marlboro tossed in for flavor?

I blew out a long stream of smoke. It curled like a lazy ghost into the starry abyss. Then the front door creaked behind me. 

“There you are. Oh, Sebby! You’re stinking up the porch.” Mom exclaimed, fanning her face like I’d farted joy directly into her soul.

She loomed above me with her usual mix of maternal concern and mild dismay, hands on her hips like she was about to announce a surprise intervention. There was a pause— the kind where you could practically hear the unspoken lecture getting organized in her head.

I glanced up, already tired in the bones. Emotionally, spiritually, cellularly exhausted. Mom noticed. Her whole demeanor softened. She sighed and leaned against the house with a worn smile— the kind you give your kid when you’re not mad, just disappointed by how aggressively they’re trying to run their lungs. 

“There’s leftovers in the fridge, when you want some.” She said, “You know, I understand how hard it’s been for you with Demetrius, but could you try to get along?”

I made a face, equal parts disgust and disbelief.

“Why is it always my fault?” I grumbled, dragging out the cigarette.

She gave another sigh— this one with extra weight, like she was releasing all her material patience into the cosmos one puff of air at a time. “Come in soon.” She said, voice gentle as she closed the door.

Not angry. Just tried. That stung more, honestly. When Mom got mad, at least I could fight back— fire for fire. But tired? That meant I was the cause of weariness in someone I actually loved. Brutal stuff. We’d fought over the years, like gladiators in a kitchen arena armed with passive aggression and sarcastic spoons. She never backed down, and I never shut up. A match made in mutually assured frustration.

A rustle caught my eye.

Movement down by the lake.

I squinted through the darkness, smoke trailing from my mouth. Two figures, crouched, fishing in the murk like raccoons dressed as humans. 

“This late?” I muttered, cigarette dangling from my lip like a rebellious toothpick. 

On closer look— and let’s be honest, I had absolutely nothing better to do unless I was itching to get into a another philosophical debate with Demetrius over whether rice counts as a real meal— it was Linus and the new farmer.

Of course. Who else would be enthusiastically scooping sludgefish out of a cursed lake at 11 p.m. on a Thursday?

I turned away. None of my business.

Unless they caught something with eyes.

Then it was definitely my business.

[lalawlrd]

Maybe I Should Quit Smoking (Pt. 2)

(Part two of this little story! Enjoy ^^)

The first time I saw you, you were waist-deep in the lake, fishing for your own stuff in the dark like it was the most normal thing in the world. You'd dropped it somehow-- I never found out the details-- but there you were: soaked to the knees, boots squelching, laughing like the whole thing was a punchline to a joke only you got. Even Linus couldn't fish out everything that night, but you didn't seem to mind. Not once did you complain. You just smiled and kept trying.

That's when you first caught my eye.

The next morning, I passed the lake again and saw Linus, still fishing around in the water. That was....weird. Linus doesn't really do favors. Or people. Except me, sometimes-- usually when I'm smoking and he's feeling philosophical. I always figured I was one of the rare exceptions.

But there he was, content as anything, digging around for the rest of your stuff like it was his mission from Yoba. That stuck with me. Who were you, that even Linus would go out of his way for you?

I figured eventually I'd meet you. Seemed inevitable in a town this small.

Then came Sam-- wide eyes, bouncing off the walls, going on about how "awesome" you were. That didn't mean much, honestly. Sam likes everyone. I'm still convinced the only person he holds a grudge against is the Governor, and that's mostly because the guy once said pop music was "culturally shallow."

Still. I listened.

Then Abby mentioned you. That got my attention.

Abby doesn't hand out compliments. If she thinks you're weird, she'll say it to your face-- and apparently, that's exactly what she thought of you. "A little weird," she said. "But cool."

I laughed. Of course you were weird. I already figured that out, watching you wade into the lake with a smile like that.

It didn't take long before it felt like the entire town knew you. Pierre mentioned you. Alex said something about you deadlifting a keg. Even Demetrius looked vaguely impressed. Everyone had a story. A quip. A reason to like you.

Except me.

And that was the par that bothered me--- although at the time I wouldn't admit it.

I kept wondering: why hadn't you said anything to me? You stopped by my mom's shop more than once. I knew that much. But somehow, I was the one person you hadn't introduced yourself too.

Not that I blamed you. I'm not sam-- loud and lovable. I'm not Abby-- mysterious and sharp. I'm just... me. Moody. Smoke-stained. Too quiet. Too honest. Even half my family only tolerate me on good days.

So no-- it didn't surprise me that you never made the effort.

And it shouldn't have stung. But it did.

Which is exactly the moment the universe decided to make things worse.

I'd gone deeper into the mines than I should've. Nothing heroic-- I wasn't chasing treasure or trying to prove anything. Just needed quartz. Simple. Stupid.

Then I tripped over a rock and fell hard, the edge of it slicing through my jeans and my leg beneath. The pain came fast and sharp. I scrambled back, adrenaline doing a poor job of numbing anything, while the slime in front of me pulsated like it was preparing for its next meal. Namely: Me.

I didn't even have a weapon. Just a very loud internal monologue about how this was a deeply embarrassing way to die.

And then, out of nowhere--- splat.

You stood there.

Sword in one hand like it weighed nothing. Backpack slung over the other shoulder. You didn't even spare me a glance at first-- just knelt to collect a sample of the slime, muttering under your breath. Casual. Efficient. A little bit cocky, if I'm being honest.

And then you turned.

Your eyes met mine and you blinked, startled.

"Oh my Junimo, I didn't even see you there. Are you okay?"

I wanted to say, You just saved my life, Dummy. But I bit it back.

You hauled me up with one arm-- just one. Like I weighed nothing. Your arms were... a lot. I tried not to notice. I definitely noticed.

Behind you, a horde of monsters began to stir.

"Can you climb?' You asked, mentioning to the rickety ladder behind us.

I nodded, breathless. "I think so."

You exhaled hard, "I hope quick, too. I'm way too low on health to deal with a mob right now."

I blinked. "Do you see life as a video game?"

You grinned, unbothered. "Always. More fun that way. I'll go up behind you-- make sure you don't fall."

We made it to the top. My leg throbbed and my face burned from the shame of it all, but you didn't say anything cruel or smug.

You knelt and wrapped a bandage around my left with practiced hand.

Then you smiled. "Not a word, right? My lips are sealed. Although... next time? You should really bring a sword."

You handed me one. Rusty. Dented. Definitely pre-loved. But yours. No lecture. No judgement. Just a quiet kind of generosity.

I took it, my fingers curling around the hilt.

Maybe I would try again.

[lalawlrd]

Tell Me to Stay

SDV Sebastian x GN! Reader

WARNING: angst

omg this is the third fanfic i've written today.. i'm on a roll!! i daydream a lot when i'm stressed out and this fic is a product of one of my scenarios. hope you enjoy this ♡

p.s., please lmk if you want a part 2 to this :)

masterlist

• • — ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ — • •

"Alright, now for the finishing touches," I muttered to myself, my hands making swift work of the bouquet in front of me. I was quite proud of the collection of flowers delicately wrapped in black and grey parchment. I saved one of each kind of flower found in Pelican Town from each season and, although I was intimated to find out what the final product would look like, it ended up exceeding my expectations in the most spectacular way. On their own, the flowers did not seem very special. In fact, many of the townsfolk disliked some of the individual flowers as gifts (Yoba, I'll never forget the day I found this out the hard way.. thanks, Haley). However, the varying shades together reminded me of a prismatic shard, and I took it as a sign of good luck.

As I slipped the handwritten note I wasted countless of papers trying to perfect into the center of the bouquet, I thought back Pierre's note in the mail, informing me of the role of bouquets in Pelican Town's courtship etiquette. I smiled, remembering how a name had already manifested itself in my mind as I read through the letter. I decided to wait, though. Not because I was unsure of my feelings or his, but because I wanted it to be special. As much as I appreciate Pierre and his boundless supply of seasonal seeds, I wanted to add a personal touch to this gift. Each bouquet in Pierre's shop looked and smelt divine, but there was just something missing. Something that gave it soul and purpose. Each season I returned, hoping to find a bouquet that just felt right. But it never came. Alas, I decided to take matters in my own hands.

Now, I was ready. My heart leapt, excited and anxious at what I had planned out. But I knew I was ready. Nothing had ever felt so right.

Hours ticked by as I worked on my farm, waiting for the time I knew he would be there. When the clock hit 7, I all but ran to the beach, bouquet in hand and a wide grin spread across my face. As I approached the docks, I saw his figure sitting on the pier, his back facing me. My grin grew even wider. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the cool crisp air and steeling my nerves. I walked towards him, confident and determined, ready to take a leap of fate. "This is it," I thought. When I finally reached him, I tapped him on the shoulder with one hand, the bouquet held behind me in the other. He turned towards me. His eyes widened slightly in shock at the sight of me and he smiled. My grin fell in tow with my heart.

Something was off.

No. I expected the playful, almost teasing, quirk of his lips that I had etched into my memory. This wasn't that. I knew it wasn't that. The smile that he gave me didn't even reach his eyes. Something was wrong.

"Seb, are you okay?" I questioned. He only nodded mutely, turning towards the open expanse of the dark blue waters. He stayed quiet for a while. I moved, setting the flowers away from his line of sight and sitting beside him. I said nothing. We said nothing, just bathed in each other's presence.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he stated simply. My heart stopped beating. I arched my body towards him, my hands beginning to tremble. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Where?" I said quietly. He must've noticed the tone of my voice. His eyes found mine, soft and sad, but no hint of hesitation. Not an ember. Not a flicker. Just a steady resolve I had never seen on him before.

"To Zuzu City," he replied. My lips quivered now. I felt the tears heat up my eyes.

"Oh," is all I replied with, turning to face the ocean. It was calm tonight. The moon illuminated a spot on the water, the glow trickling and distorting the farther it spread. It was too calm. It didn't reflect the emotions I felt stirring in my chest, the waves of hurt coming in flash floods, pounding against the chambers of my chest. I let in a shaky breath before forcing my head to turn towards him.

"I'm happy for you," I said, hating how my voice cracked. I was. Truly, genuinely, sincerely. It's all he's been wanting and all he ever talked about. This was his dream, his final breakthrough. So why am I lying through my teeth to the man I love? Sebastian frowned, noticing my change in demeanor.

"You don't seem like it," he observed. Without thinking, I let out a bitter laugh. I picked up the bouquet to my left, handing it towards him. I watched as his emotions warred on his face, from confusion to shock to pain to sadness. "(Y/N)-" he began.

I shook my head vigorously. "Save it, please." I bit out. His face contorted again, a flash of hurt and then understanding in half a second. He sat quiet again and my thoughts continued. Usually, I found solace in his quiet countenance. Sebastian was a man of little words, but his actions spoke for him. I knew how his eyes squinted in disgust when he recalled the smell of one Demetrius' science experiments. I knew how he liked to tug the collar of his shirts, hating the way the fabric scratched at the sensitive skin of his throat. I knew he liked to keep his hands in his pockets when he was nervous, so that no one would notice how much he fiddled with his fingers. Each quirk, each action that made Sebastian so him and so uniquely lovable, each one brought a wave of pain and I couldn't help the tear that trailed down my cheeks. His silence did not comfort me. Tonight, it was only fuel to the flames erupting in my chest.

His expression shifted again to pain.

"I could stay," he said, quiet and resigned. A sob escaped me then. I quickly placed a hand to my mouth, stopping the next pathetic sound from pouring from my lips. I cleared my throat and looked at him. I wanted to tell him no, he wouldn't be happy here. I wanted to tell him to chase his dreams. I wanted to tell him to stay.

"I saved each flower from each season," I told him instead. "It was supposed to be my way of telling you I'd love you in each season," I finished.

He said nothing. I wanted to scream. I wanted to argue. I wanted him to fight back and tell me it was all just some sick and cruel joke and that he would stay for me and we could begin our lives together and-

"Tell me to stay," he begged, so quiet that only the wind carried it to your ears, like it was a secret meant to be lost. "I would do anything you ask of me," me finished. My heart shattered. The tears fell in streams, now. I couldn't speak. I knew he meant it. I heard, felt, the sincerity in his voice. But I knew it came at a cost. I knew it came at the cost of his dreams and a part of who he was. I knew that if I told him to stay, I would still catch him looking east, in the direction of the city. I knew he would look at me and see untapped potential, dreams that were lost within reach, given up for the sake of settling. I shook my head instead.

He turned away. My heart broke again. Suddenly, the salty night air felt suffocating. I can't be here. It's too cold. It hurts. It's too much. I can't do this. I need to go home.

I stood abruptly and I saw, from my peripheral, as he watched me stand. I turned and walked away from this scene, away from my living heartbreak.

He did not follow.

[lalawlrd]

Husband! Sebastian

SDV Sebastian x GN! Reader

WARNINGS: none! but the fluff is so fluff that it will make your heart ache

Just a little head canon thing while I take a break (procrastinate) from studying for my final :') hope you enjoy! ♡ p.s., can you tell i'm currently hyper-fixated on SDV lol

masterlist

• • — ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ — • •

Husband! Sebastian who swears he's not good with romance but asks for Maru's help so that there is a fresh bouquet of fragrant fairy roses waiting for you every week, no matter the season

Husband! Sebastian who loves to watch mukbang videos, making him an excellent cook

Husband! Sebastian who always asks you for fresh ingredients from your farm to cook you meals every single day

Husband! Sebastian who, if you decide to have children, becomes a stay at home dad because he doesn't really like to go out anyways and you're the breadwinner of the family

Husband! Sebastian who drives you on his motorcycle to Zuzu City every weekend of your monthly anniversary to get away for a bit

Husband! Sebastian who, on these short trips, takes you to the fanciest restaurant he could find, complete with stunning evening attire and jewelry that match his tuxedo (he uses his original savings money and works overtime every other week to be able to afford it all, but you don't know that and he will never tell you because the joy in your eyes is enough for him to do it ten times over again)

Husband! Sebastian who enrolls in college online so he could have a chance at a better job, allowing him to help you lessen your financial load

Husband! Sebastian who eventually learns how to code a game and inserts a dedication towards you in the very beginning of it (he does this with all his future developments)

Husband! Sebastian whose mom (Robin) gives you discounts on buildings, with some even being free (like the third house upgrade where you unlock a nursery)

Husband! Sebastian who you find cuddled up beside your baby in the crib after coming home from a long day of tending to the farm (and Pierre's BS prices!)

[lalawlrd]

Juno

SDV Shane x AFAB! Reader

Inspired by "Juno" by Sabrina Carpenter and "Don't Smile" by @miffysrkv

I've been so obsessed with Shane fanfics.. if you couldn't tell by my reblogs.. LOL. I've never actually married Shane yet, so please forgive me if he's out of character. Hope you enjoy!! ♡

WARNING: light swearing, suggestive themes.

masterlist

• • — ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ — • •

"Yup," you thought to yourself, "there's just absolutely no way."

You sat on a lawn chair on the porch of your farmhouse, arms crossed and legs outstretched as you watched the scene before you unfold. There sat your husband in the grass he freshly scythed, Charlie perched on his shoulder, hurdled by a flock of chickens. You observed the early morning sunbeams kissing his tanned skin, a soft and tender gaze on his face as he gently stroked the runt of the flock. The rest of them chirped as if saying "my turn!". He chuckled slightly and began petting the one beside the runt, taking his time to caress each chicken.

There's just no way in the seven hells that this man could be so perfect.

As if hearing your thoughts, his soft smile turned towards you. Your heart melted at the sight and you found yourself smiling back, uncrossing your arms to greet him with a wave. His smile brightened in acknowledgment before he turned back towards the chickens, muttered a few phrases, and stood. Charlie jumped off his shoulder to join the flock before they clucked, as if saying goodbye, and skipped away as he dusted his pants. He turned back towards you and began to make his way up the stairs. Once he ascended, he walked towards you, bracing his weight on one arm of the chair to lean in. He held your face with his other hand, his lips finding yours. Instinctively you closed your eyes, looping your arms around his neck to tangle in his hair and draw him closer. His tongue bumped against your lips in silent question, and you granted him access. You stayed like that for a while, fervently making out like two horny teenagers. Dazed and out of breath you pulled back, fluttering your eyed open and meeting his own. He smiled at you gently.

"Good morning, love. Did you see the breakfast I made for you?" He greeted.

You recalled waking up to the delectable scent of fried hash browns and freshly brewed coffee. "You made that for me?" You replied. A lush eyebrow lifted, his gaze filling with half deadpan and half humor.

"No, love, I made it for Charlie." He replied. You rolled your eyes as he laughed and the sound drew your eyes back to his face. You watched blearily, still high off of your shared kiss and drunk on the bliss on his face. The sunlight illuminated his face, and you found yourself slightly breathless. Your eyes followed a path down his features. It began at the peak of his head, bristling with dark and onyx hair. His emerald eyes crinkled into crescents, his five o' clock shadow curving under his smile. Shane's shoulders rose and fell with each bit of laughter that poured from his soft, if a bit chapped, lips. All your staring held weight, it seemed, as he paused his laughter and caught your gaze, unable to stop the bashful feeling that rose in him.

"What?" He asked, confused by your staring.

"God bless your dad's genetics." You answered without thinking. He made a face at this.

"Uh.. thanks?" He said, not exactly knowing how to reply.

It was your turn to laugh now.

"Seriously, stop looking at me like that," he muttered, averting his eyes from your face. Your laughter faded to a smile and you gazed upon him.

"Like what?" You replied, still caught up in just how beautiful each part of him was. So much so that you completely missed the shift in his eyes, the confident lean into and the smirk that replaced the soft smile of his lips. You were pulled from your stupor by his sudden proximity, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Like you wanna fuck me," he said, his hands already lightly treading on the expanse of your skin. You felt a blaze of heat expand in your belly and you looked away, biting your lip softly. His expression changed then, going from fiery to overwhelmingly concerned in almost a split second.

"Hey, look at me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. We don't have to if you don't want to. I was only joking," he quickly explained, trying to rectify the hesitant look in your eyes. You turned to him again and shook your head.

"No, no. None of that, Shane. I was only thinking.. well.." you drawled out. He cocked his head to the side, patiently waiting for you to continue.

"Well, how would you feel about adding another member to our family?" You spoke, almost in a whisper. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"Did you want another animal? Love, you know you don't need to ask me that, this is your farm." He replied. You chuckled then at his lack of understanding.

"No, honey. What I'm trying to say is, do you want to have a baby with me?" You expounded. His look of confusion changed. His eyes, the color reminding you of the first leaves of spring, widened, his eyebrows shooting up and leaving his forehead wrinkled under its pressure. His jaw slacked and his mouth fell open slightly. He blinked at you once, twice, before a deep crimson filled spread from his cheeks to his neck, like paper catching fire. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nose before exhaling through his mouth. He opened his eyes once more, now filled with an unwavering determination.

"It's all I want," he replied tenderly. You grinned at this, launching yourself at him with a laugh already bubbling forth from your lips. He groaned at the sudden weight but wrapped his arounds around you, his chest rumbling with a similar laugh. You pulled back to stare at his face.

"I love you," you said.

"I love you," he replied. He kissed you once more and you returned it, your heart swelling with warmth and laughter and so, so much love. You pulled back suddenly and yelped as he stood with you in his arms, his hands on your ass to hold you to him.

"Well, if we want a baby," he said, desire beginning to cloud his eyes. You felt something between your legs harden against you and your core burned at the sensation. Shane leaned in, his nose lightly brushing against yours. He spoke again, gruff and low, "I'm gonna have to put one in you."

Well, safe to say, it's a good thing your beloved husband watered the crops and tended to the animals already.

[lalawlrd]

"Don't Smile"

Pairing: Shane x Ex-Wife!Farmer!Reader Inspired by the song “Don’t Smile” by Sabrina Carpenter Warnings: angst, themes of alcoholism, emotional pain, divorce, isolation A/N: I would recommend listening to the song during Pt.2 as the POV switches to Shane's :')

The wind carries the scent of ripening wheat through the valley — golden, sun-warmed, and cruelly unchanged.

You step out onto the porch, boots crunching against the worn planks. Same as always. Chickens cluck faintly from the coop, waiting. The cows nudge at their fence. Your watering can is already full; you filled it last night, half on purpose, half from dread. The routine comes first now. If you think, you’ll feel. If you feel, you’ll break.

It’s been a year since the divorce.

Shane is back at Marnie’s. You see him sometimes, blurred and distant, walking down to the bus stop or back from Joja with a six-pack in a plastic bag, head down, hands deep in his pockets like he’s afraid of holding onto anything too tightly. Like he might crush it.

You used to hold his hand so tightly he’d laugh about circulation.

You don’t laugh much anymore.

One Year and a Half Ago

You were married in the fall. The leaves turned that rich copper-orange, and he looked at you like you were everything he’d never believed in. He wore a suit that didn’t quite fit and stumbled over his vows but made up for it by crying at yours. It was… good. Maybe even great.

The winter was quiet but warm. The fireplace in your cottage was always burning. He helped with the animals. You cooked breakfast together. He smiled more than you’d ever seen. And in spring, when the baby chicks hatched, he cried again — softer, quietly in the coop, where you pretended not to notice.

But you noticed when he started coming home later.

You noticed when the empty cans reappeared in the trash, hidden at first, then carelessly tossed.

You noticed when the warmth of his hand faded from yours, and his voice became shorter, clipped — until it broke entirely.

“I guess you weren’t enough to fix me, huh?”

You’d argued, sure. Over the mess, over the drinking, over the way he stopped trying.

But that sentence?

It wasn’t just a wound — it was a revelation.

Because you had been trying to fix him. And he knew. And he hated it.

And maybe, a tiny voice whispered, he hated you for trying.

You didn’t leave the Valley after the divorce. That would’ve felt like defeat. Besides, the land loved you. It remembered how your hands first touched the soil, how you brought life back to a place everyone else had abandoned.

But something hollowed out inside you.

You care for your animals like a nurse dressing old wounds. The crops still thrive, but you plant them by numbers now, not instinct. You rotate your fields because you should, not because you want to.

The villagers notice. Penny still says hello, gently. Evelyn brings cookies sometimes. Leah leaves flowers on your doorstep on rainy days. You say “thank you” and smile just enough that they don’t worry.

Just enough.

But you don’t attend festivals anymore. You don’t dance at the Flower Dance. You don’t watch the jellyfish with wide eyes like you used to. You don’t go near the saloon.

You don’t see Shane, not really.

But you feel him.

Like a pulled tooth, phantom pain. Like the ghost of a song you used to sing in the kitchen, with your hands in soapy water and his head on your shoulder.

Sometimes you catch glimpses — a flash of his blue jacket behind the general store, the drag of his boots on the gravel. You hear from Jodi that he’s still at Joja. And sometimes he shows up drunk to the saloon again. Sometimes he doesn’t show up at all.

You think about him more than you mean to. It’s not longing. Not anymore. It’s just… an echo.

Summer, Year Three

You find an old photograph behind a drawer while cleaning the kitchen. It’s from your wedding. You’re both laughing — really laughing. He has one hand at your waist, the other tangled in your hair. You remember how happy he looked that day.

You stare at it for a long time.

And you don’t cry. You thought you might. But your tears dried up somewhere between the barn and that night he said those words.

You just sit there, still, with a knot in your chest that never unties.

Marnie’s Ranch

You drop off eggs sometimes. You never mean to see him, but today, he’s there. Sitting on the porch, hunched forward, elbows on knees. A beer bottle in his hand.

You freeze.

He doesn’t look up at first. Then he does.

He blinks.

“…Hey.”

You haven’t heard his voice in months. It sounds cracked. Softer. Tired.

You nod.

“Hey.”

Silence, thick and awkward.

“You look good,” he says, like it’s a question.

You don’t answer.

He takes a swig. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.”

You shrug. “Didn’t think you’d still be drinking.”

That hits. He flinches like you threw something.

“Right,” he mutters. “Fair.”

You look at him for a long second. At the man you loved. The man you tried to save. The man who didn’t want saving — at least not from you.

“You still working at Joja?” you ask.

He nods. “Still blue. Still soulless.”

It’s almost a joke. You almost smile.

But you don’t.

He looks at you like he wants to say something. Maybe everything. Maybe nothing. But instead, he just says, “I’m sorry.”

Your breath catches.

You want to scream. You want to laugh. You want to ask, Sorry for what? For loving me? For letting me believe it was enough? For breaking me with one sentence?

But you don’t.

You just nod.

“Okay.”

You turn. You leave the eggs. You walk away.

He doesn’t call after you.

You don’t look back.

The sun sets slow in Stardew Valley. It paints the hills in amber and lavender, gold and grief. You watch it from your porch most evenings. Your animals sleep peacefully. Your fields are full. The stars come out one by one.

You still get up early. Still work the land. Still tend, still care.

But not like before.

Not like when love made the soil feel sacred, when every tomato tasted like laughter, when your hands smelled like hay and his cologne.

You’re still here.

But something isn’t.

And maybe that’s just how it is when love ends. When fixing someone costs you parts of yourself you don’t get back.

You don’t smile.

But you don’t cry either.

And for now… that’s enough.

Pt.2 can be found here

[lalawlrd]

dream a little dream

pairing: Shane/Reader

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used. (they wear a suit at one point, but I think anyone can rock a suit).

summary:

“You should run for mayor.” You laugh instinctually. Then you see the sincere expression on Shane’s face and fall silent.

word count: 6k | ao3 version

warnings: spoilers to the game, mentions of past alcoholism

“You should run for mayor,” Shane hums, taking another swig of his beer. You stare ahead at the horizon, looking at the moon and the stars. It takes you several moments to comprehend his remark, but once you finally do, you laugh. 

Shane stills at your side and you chance a glance at him, only to realize that his expression is entirely sincere. “Oh, you’re serious,” you realize aloud. The air seems to fall still around you, as you consider the statement. “I’ve never thought about it. Besides, I’m kind of new to town…” you trail off. After all, you only moved to Pelican Town a few years ago. It’s a bit of a crazy thought—it feels as if you’ve been here your whole life. Everyone is so kind and supportive. 

“So?” Shane huffs. “You’ve done more in the few years you’ve been here than Lewis has done in his entire lifetime.” There’s a strange resolve in his eyes as he stares out at the horizon. The two of you are sitting at the edge of the beach, overlooking the sparkling blue waters. It’s quiet here at night, save for the sound of cicadas buzzing. 

“That’s an exaggeration,” you argue weakly, once you can find the words. 

“You fixed the Community Center,” Shane starts. “Built Pam a house. Created new paths and improved infrastructure. Not to mention, you pretty much single-handedly revived Pelican Town’s economy. And you helped to get rid of Joja.”

That’s all true, but it doesn’t mean you’re qualified enough to be the mayor. You take a deep breath and try to focus on the quiet waves, the dark sky above… anything but the proposition you’re suddenly faced with. “I don’t know…” you break off. You’re very uncertain, truthfully. Being the mayor seems like a lot of responsibility—with plenty of room for failure.

“Besides, then Aunt Marnie and Lewis wouldn’t have to hide their relationship,” Shane proposes, taking another swig of his drink. You nearly spit yours out at the casual remark. 

“You knew?” you choke out. When you had first stumbled upon the pair leaving the tavern arm-in-arm, they made you promise not to tell anyone. You had assumed no one else knew. 

“Are you serious?” Shane remarks with amusement. “Lewis is at our house almost every day at this point. Of course I knew.” …You suppose that makes sense. Shane has probably noticed the mayor come and go frequently. 

“Lewis has run unopposed for decades,” Shane continues, when he notices you have nothing more to say. “And he didn’t help Pelican Town when it was struggling. The Community Center fell to shit, Joja moved in…” He breaks off, staring out at the water. Anger briefly flickers across his face, before he sighs resignedly. 

“Maybe you should run for mayor,” you suggest with raised brows. 

Shane just scoffs. “Hell no.” Safe to say, the conversation changes directions after that. 

You don’t expect Shane to remember that late-night discussion, much less for him to ask you about it a few days later. “Have you given any thought to running for mayor?” Shane questions as you’re walking along the shore of the beach. Thankfully, no one is around to hear you now—you don’t want this to reach anyone else’s ears. Rumors spread like wildfire in a town as close-knit and small as Pelican Town. 

“You remember that?” you can’t help but ask. You had assumed that the alcohol bolstered that conversation, but it seems you were wrong. You scuff your shoe against the sand, satisfied with the granules that are kicked up into the air. 

“Of course,” he responds with a wry smile. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, shoving your hands in your pockets. You look at the water in the distance and take a deep breath, before turning to look at Shane. The two of you have momentarily stopped in your pacing, leaving you standing near the edge of the docks. “I don’t want to make Lewis mad, or make things inconvenient for everyone else.”

Shane hums in understanding. For a moment, you think the conversation will end there. But a few seconds later, Shane continues speaking. “You should ask around, see what everyone thinks of the idea,” he suggests. “You may be surprised by what you hear.”

You consider the thought. After all, merely asking around isn’t anywhere near an explicit commitment to running for mayor. Besides, it would be good to get a feeling for whether you would even have a chance in an election against Lewis. Shane doesn’t seem to think you’ll actually do it, because his eyes widen when you nod. “Maybe I will.” 

Then a smile overtakes his face. He looks lighter, less stressed, than you’ve seen him in a while. With Joja’s disappearance and his hard work towards curbing his addiction, he’s been doing a lot better. The casual drinks you had the other day may have been the first ones he’s had in several weeks. And Shane made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t intend to start drinking heavily anytime soon. You’re sure it’s been immensely difficult for him, and you’re proud that he’s gotten to this point. It makes you happy to see him happy. 

“You should,” Shane asserts, breaking you out of your thoughts. It takes you a few moments to focus on the conversation again, instead of your distracting tangent on Shane’s growth and happiness. Fortunately, Shane doesn’t seem to mind your lapse in attention—as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you walk down the shore of the beach. Eventually, you have to part ways: Shane with an easy smile on his face; and you, struggling not to mimic the gesture. Once you’re alone as you head back to your farm, you don’t fight off your feelings anymore—and a small smile graces your lips. 

It takes you a few days to summon the courage to speak to the villagers about your potential candidacy as mayor. And, safe to say, you aren’t expecting the positive responses they give you. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting much of a response at all. But when you first bring up the idea to Sebastian, Abigail, and Sam, they exchange victorious smirks. Immediately fearing for your life, you’re quick to ask them if they expected this—to which Abigail explains that they had a conversation along those lines the other day. 

“I mean, you’ve done so much for the town, so it makes sense,” Sam shrugs, as if it’s the natural conclusion to make. Sebastian and Abigail both nod in evident agreement. You look over the three of them one more time, still unable to convince yourself they’re being genuine. But time passes and none of them interject with the claim that the entire conversation is a prank, so you think you’re safe to assume they’re serious. Of course, that brings up something just as frightening: the idea that you have a responsibility to the citizens of Pelican Town, that they’re already expecting things from you. You eventually push away all those thoughts and decide to get some more opinions. After all, Sam, Abigail, and Sebastian are some of the younger residents. The majority of Pelican Town is older than them—and you’ll need to survey that populace if you want to have any chance of winning the election. (It frightens you how easily you’ve accepted this idea… but you decide not to question it.)

Over the next few days, you try to slip the idea into your conversations as naturally as possible. Of course, you’re not the best at subtlety, so most people see right through your attempts. But regardless, everyone responds very positively. When you mention the idea to Willy, he nods in agreement. “If you’re half as good at being mayor as you are at fishing, you’ll be just fine.” 

Then you mention your potential interest in being the mayor as you pick up an Energy Tonic at Harvey’s clinic, and you’re endlessly amused by his reaction: as he tips his head down and his glasses fall right off his face. He quickly reassures you that you’d be a great candidate, and that he’d vote for you without hesitation. 

Next you run into Emily as you’re heading to Pierre’s for some seeds and she almost seems to expect what you’re going to say. (Pelican Town doesn’t get much news. So when something does happen, everyone seems to know about it.) To your surprise, she pulls you into a hug and runs off with the promise that she’ll knit some apparel for you to use for your campaign. You stare after her in bewildered amusement. Ultimately, you’re starting to get the feeling that everyone is prepared for you to run for mayor: everyone except you. But you’re warming up to the idea with each conversation you have. Hell, if you even have George’s begrudging approval, you’re certain you have a good chance at winning the election. 

“So?” Shane asks the next time you see him. 

You just shake your head in disbelief, at a complete loss for words as you recount all the conversations you had. 

Shane shoots you a sympathetic smile. “I told you they’d go for it,” he remarks, something far too close to pride gleaming in his eyes. You avert your eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling flustered by all the faith and trust he’s showing in you. Why is he so convinced you’ll succeed? 

You hear yourself blurting out your thoughts before you can stop yourself. “Can I ask you something?” you ask. Shane blinks and nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you so passionate about this?” Shane has been super dedicated to helping you out with all of this, and while you’re immensely grateful for the support, you have to wonder just what he’s getting out of it. 

To your surprise, a flush rises on Shane’s face and he looks away for a moment. “Honestly?” he asks. “I just want you to be happy. And I think you definitely deserve the position. Plus, it would be a better reflection of just how much you’ve done for this place,” Shane continues. “For us.” For me goes unsaid, but you somehow hear it anyway.

“Well, if it means that much to you…” you choke out, suddenly feeling fidgety and restless. You shove your hands in your pockets to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like reaching out to hug him. Shane’s never been one for physical contact, after all. 

“I mean, don’t do it just because I’m suggesting it,” Shane sighs, averting his gaze for a moment again before looking at you with renewed focus. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed: your only objections so far have been on the behalf of others. What do you want? That’s all that really matters.”

You stare at him for a few moments in complete disbelief. “When did you get so wise?” you ask, unable to keep the fondness from your voice. Ah well. Your friendship was nice while it lasted. 

But Shane only huffs and looks away, a blush rising on his face. “Shut up.” You poke fun at him a little more, before the conversation moves towards other things. Shane tells you what’s been going on at the ranch and you listen with rapt attention. The look on his face just a few minutes ago flits about in the back of your mind, never quite leaving your thoughts. 

Within a few days, you’re officially running for mayor. The process for entering the election is obscenely straightforward: you just have to go to Gunther and declare your intent, before signing a quick form. It’s frighteningly easy, and you can’t help but wonder why no one bothered to try running against Lewis in the past. When you return to Shane with the news that you’re officially a candidate in the mayoral race, he smiles at you with glittering eyes and your heart skips a beat. 

Immediately, you’re immensely thankful that Pelican Town is a small town—and that elections aren’t a huge affair. You already know everyone in town, so you don’t necessarily need to go door-to-door to introduce yourself. Furthermore, the news of you being a candidate spreads quite fast. Before long, the election seems to be all the town's talking about. After all, there hasn’t been a genuine election since Lewis was elected years ago. That strikes you, but you don’t have time to scrutinize it—not in the wake of the preparations you have to make and the speech you have to write for the upcoming “debate.” 

Shane is, as always, a godsend. He sits on the front steps of your house as you rehearse your speech and gives you pointers. The two of you discuss some of the things that could be improved in Pelican Town and try to incorporate the views of the people you’ve spoken to. After all, you’re not running for mayor for the title—you want to ensure that Pelican Town is flourishing and prospering for years to come. 

When the day of the debate finally arrives, you’re so nervous that you contemplate not going to the event at all. Thankfully, Shane appears at your doorstep an hour before you’re scheduled to speak and practically drags you through getting ready. He helps you decide on an outfit and, after you change into it, he promptly whistles and earnestly compliments you in a way that makes you feel profoundly embarrassed. From there, you practice your speech once more before it’s finally time for you to head over to the town square. Apparently, Robin managed to set up some sort of stage with podiums for Lewis and you to speak at. The thought makes you unspeakably nervous, despite your unfounded conviction that everything will go well.  

Admittedly, you do freeze before stepping onto the paved path leading to the town square—at which point Shane talks you into continuing towards the stage. You’re hit with yet another wave of panic when you see that nearly every resident has shown up for the event, but you manage to talk yourself out of the slippery slope of anxiety running through your mind. You make sure to thank Shane for accompanying you, before heading to the stage and taking your place alongside Mayor Lewis. Shane takes a seat near the back of the group, and you resolutely pretend that you aren’t sneaking glances at him the entire time. It certainly doesn't help that, every time you look over at him, he notices and sends you a reassuring smile—the rare one that nearly knocks the breath from your chest whenever you see it. 

The remaining townsfolk file in and finally, the debate begins. You manage to highlight all the talking points you had hoped to go over and when you finish your speech, you’re shocked to hear scattered applause from the group. Your hands may be shaking behind the podium, and you may be clenching your fists so hard that bolts of pain are sliding down your fingers, but you get through it nonetheless. That night, you treat Shane to a home-cooked meal and the two of you stay up late talking about everything and nothing. When Shane leaves, you’re left with a fuzzy feeling in your chest… and you’re inexplicably compelled to think back on your life since you first moved to Pelican Town. 

You wanted to escape the urban prison of your old life, and you did. You inherited your grandfather’s farm and whipped it into shape with a lot of elbow grease. You began planting and harvesting crops, raising animals, exploring the mines, completing Mr. Qi’s mysterious requests, donating to the local museum, fishing in the salty waters of the ocean, foraging for natural materials… You truly adjusted to life as a farmer. 

Of course, that adjustment came with a ton of assistance. You’re immensely grateful for all the kindness you were shown from the very beginning—from Robin’s consistent presence and offers of construction to Lewis’s daily walks to collect what you left him in the shipping bin and sell it for you. It didn’t take long for you to fall in love with Stardew Valley for the same reasons you’re sure your grandfather did. 

You’ve come a long way, you realize. Everyone was so helpful and welcoming. Now, you can only hope to repay their kindness—to change the town for the better. You like to think that maybe, just maybe, you’ve started to do that already. And, with any luck, you’ll continue to do it once you’re mayor. 

It takes you a bit longer than normal to fall asleep that night, as thoughts of the election and memories of conversations with Shane flow through your mind. When you finally do fall asleep, Shane follows you into your dreams—and you wake up disoriented, looking down at your hand for a ring that isn’t there. You try to shake off the thought and devote your attention to your animals—but brief flickers of Shane wearing an elegant suit, standing across from you on the altar, refuse to leave your mind. 

As days pass, the prospect of election day voting grows ever closer. The night before the election, you’re practically frantic—regretting every decision you made that led you to this very moment. You toss and turn for two hours before abandoning the idea of sleep, moving out to your front steps and looking out on the darkness settled over your growing crops. 

You strongly suspect Shane has telepathic abilities, because the moment you begin to think about him, he appears. At first, you’re convinced you’re seeing things—and you rub at your eyes roughly, expecting to wake up beneath your covers. But when you open your eyes again, Shane is still standing in front of you. He bends to take a seat next to you on your steps.

He’s wearing his trademark blue sweatshirt and he zips it up before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Can’t sleep?” Shane asks you. 

You nod. “What are you doing here?” you then ask. “You should be sleeping.” 

“Figured you could use some company,” Shane responds easily. “Besides, I don’t go to bed early.” 

“Right,” you remember. “Well, do you want to come in?”

“Sure,” Shane says. The two of you slowly migrate to the couch in your living room, and with each minute that passes, you feel more comfortable and less stressed. Before long you’re fighting off sleep, blinking hard as you attempt to stay awake. You don’t want to be rude and doze off in the middle of conversation, but it seems like the universe has other plans for you. Shane’s calm voice only makes things worse, leaving you to seep into the couch cushions and fall into an easy slumber. 

You wake in the morning to a brief bit of back pain and a blanket draped over you. You blink dazedly, slowly recalling the events of the previous night. You and Shane had moved inside, and the two of you were talking on the couch. You must’ve fallen asleep at some point. The thought is immensely embarrassing, and you can only hope Shane doesn’t think you were being rude. Upon second thought, though, you know he won’t read into it—he knew you were struggling to sleep when he first visited. 

Any of your remaining doubts quickly fade into obscurity when you find a note on your fridge, reading: 

Sorry for leaving—I promised Jas I’d take her to the park this morning. See you this afternoon.  - Shane

It’s such a simple note, but the fact that he thought to explain his departure is rather heartwarming. You can’t help but smile as you take the note into your hands, holding it with unusual care. After staring down at it for several seconds, you decide to keep the note and place it in your nightstand drawer for safekeeping. You’re a bit embarrassed that you’re keeping it, secretly. But no one has to know. 

Today is the day of the election: the moment you’ve been waiting for. Voting opens at 8 a.m., and there will be a vote count at 4 p.m.. You try to keep yourself busy on the farm all day, so that you’re not thinking about the election and how embarrassing it will be when you lose and don’t get any votes—

You shake your head and break yourself out of the negative spiral. Now’s not the time to regret your actions. You focus your attention on caring for your animals, harvesting your crops, and planting some new seeds in the greenhouse. Somehow, these efforts eat most of the day away. By the time you’ve finished setting up your newest batch of seeds in the greenhouse, it’s 2 p.m. In exactly two hours, you’ll learn if you won or lost the mayoral election. Nervous can’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. You head inside to shower, before beginning to pace around restlessly. 

True to his word, Shane stops by at around 3:15 p.m. He doesn’t poke fun at your unease, instead endeavoring to help you prepare and ultimately ensuring that you don’t have any unnecessary stress. Virtually everything about today is making you nervous, so when you emerge from the bathroom in the fine-trimmed suit you had prepared, you’re very self-conscious. 

“How do I look?” you ask hesitantly. 

Shane’s head snaps up and his lips part in surprise. His cheeks flush pink and he averts his eyes for a moment, before looking at you once more. “You look…” Shane breaks off, as if unable to trust whatever he says next. “You look incredible.” You feel a flustered smile growing on your own face and you thank him for the compliment. Tension settles in the air. You’re not sure if you want to break through it or not. 

“Um, your collar…” Shane then says, his brows furrowing as he swiftly breaks the distance between you and reaches out to smooth it down. Your heart is racing so quickly you feel like he can hear it, but Shane is fixated on straightening out your collar. For a moment, he almost seems to linger at this close distance—before he blinks and shakes himself out of it. “There. All better.” 

“Thanks,” you say, your voice a little strained. You take a slow breath. “And thank you for all your help, I really appreciate it.”

“Any time.” Shane smiles. Time almost seems to stop as you look at one another, some sort of silent comprehension passing between you two. Before you can dissect it any further, Shane is shaking his head ever so slightly. “We should probably get going.” Yet neither of you move to leave.

“Right,” you eventually answer. It takes a strange amount of effort to get yourself to move, to walk past him and pretend as if that conversation hadn’t happened. You can only hope you can address it after the election. It’s been a very busy day, after all. 

The two of you walk over to the town square, where Robin is setting up chairs for the audience. You help her out until there’s a general formation, and then head up to the seat left for you on the stage. Lewis arrives soon enough; but you’re too nervous to do much more than exchange pleasantries with him. As people begin to file in, your hands start to shake and your heart roars in your ears. You occasionally glance at Shane—the sight of him reassures you each time. You try not to think about the implications of that. 

Once everyone arrives, Gunther addresses the group and announces that the votes have been counted. Virtually the entire town is here, waiting on pins and needles as the counts are about to be revealed. The man seems to sense everyone’s anticipation, as he cuts to the chase. “Lewis has received…” Gunther trails off. There seems to be a collective inhale of breath as he looks down at his placard. “Six votes.” 

You blink in complete surprise. Six? That’s nowhere near half of the town. Your heart starts to race in anticipation. You don’t want to get your hopes up, though, so you focus on Gunther once more. You bite the inside of your cheek and try to ground yourself to reality. Nothing has been decided yet; this doesn’t mean anything. 

“And his opponent,” Gunther says, uttering your name. For what feels like an eternity, there’s nothing but tense silence. You’re struggling to keep your composure, feeling the powerful urge to fidget and do something with your nervous energy. Finally, Gunther takes pity on you and continues. “Nineteen votes.” 

Several people cheer, Shane included. You stare ahead in complete disbelief. Nineteen votes. That can only mean… 

“Congratulations to the new mayor of Pelican Town,” Gunther says, beckoning you to the center of the stage. You get up mechanically and head over to him, shaking his proffered hand and settling at the podium.

“Speech!” You hear several people yell. “Speech!”

“Oh, Yoba…” you murmur before you can stop yourself. There are a few laughs. You take a few moments to inhale and exhale slowly. The difficult part is over. “Well. Thank you, first of all. I know I’m relatively new to town, but I’ve grown to love it here.” You want to keep it short and sweet, so you decide on one last sentence. “And I just hope to change Pelican Town for the better.”

“You already have,” Shane remarks. You stare at him and suddenly, it feels as if you two are the only ones on the planet. Everything fades to the background and you know you’re staring, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him. Shane has a genuine smile on his face—not just a wry quirk to his lips. It almost looks… adoring. 

There’s another round of applause and the moment is broken. You express your gratitude before retreating to the back of the group. Everyone breaks off into their respective friend groups and you take a deep breath. Within a few seconds, there’s a hand on your shoulder and you flinch. It’s not Shane, but Lewis—staring at you with a polite smile. “Congratulations,” he says. You’re surprised to notice that it’s entirely sincere. 

“You’re not angry?” you hear yourself ask hesitantly. You had never really spoken with Lewis about your plans.

“Of course not,” the former mayor answers. You feel some of the tension bleed out of your shoulders. “It’s clear that you’re a great fit for mayor. Besides, it’s about time for me to retire. Take some time to myself, relax.” His gaze falls to Marnie and you smile. Lewis blinks and notices you looking at him, quickly trying to explain himself. 

“You don’t need to explain,” you interject. You then urge him to approach Marnie, which he does—with a grateful smile on his face. Seeing them together brings a smile on your own face. 

Several people approach you and congratulate you on your win, to the point where the smile on your face is starting to hurt (even though it’s still completely genuine). You shake hands with Demetrius, hug Evelyn, exchange remarks with Robin, banter with Emily and Leah, talk with Elliott and Alex… But you’re still looking for someone. And each time you chance a glance around the group, you don’t see him. 

But then there’s that familiar voice. “Hey.” You turn around to find Shane smiling at you. You feel a smile growing on your own lips and, before you can contemplate the consequences, you’re rushing forward and hugging him. To Shane’s credit, he doesn’t so much as flinch—instead embracing you back unapologetically. His hands fall to your waist and you idly wish you could just drown in this moment forever. 

“You did it,” Shane says when the two of you break apart, a proud quirk to his lips. His left hand lingers at your hip and you’re sure you’re doing a horrible job at hiding your feelings for him. As if remembering that you’re both in public, Shane withdraws his hand with a sheepish quirk to his lips. 

“We did it,” you clarify. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you. I’m serious.” You insist, when an expression of disbelief crosses his face. “I hadn’t even considered the possibility before we had that conversation. And… you really inspired me,” you finish. 

“Well, you deserve this,” Shane asserts with unshakeable confidence. “All of it.”

“Thanks, Shane.” You smile. 

Before you can even begin to stumble through changing the subject, there’s a sudden rush of movement at your side. You watch in surprise as a small figure moves past you and tugs at Shane’s hand. Shane and you both look down, only to find Jas staring up at her godfather with sparkling eyes. 

“Jas?” Shane asks, looking down at his niece. There’s a bright smile on her face and she breaks eye contact with Shane to look at you, before looking at Shane once more. You’re confused by the girl’s unexplained expressions and gestures, so you decide to remain silent until you can get a good idea of what’s going on. 

Jas tugs on Shane’s hand insistently and widens her eyes purposefully. Shane looks down at her with a knowing expression, and you swear you can see him beginning to panic. Then Jas speaks. “Now kiss!” Jas interjects, pointing at you before tugging on her godfather’s hand again. She’s pulling at Shane’s arm rather hard, and it almost looks as if she’s trying to pull him into you. Shane seems to notice that at the same time you do, as his eyes widen and he flushes.

“Um—” He tries to say, looking completely helpless. 

You’re similarly flustered. “Well—” You stammer, suddenly nervous. Jas then reaches out and grabs your hand too, trying to tug you towards Shane. 

Thankfully, both of you are saved from responding when Marnie—evidently overhearing the conversation—hurries over. “Jas, don’t say that!” The woman is quick to reel Jas in, bringing her away from Shane and you with an apologetic smile on her face. Jas tries to resist, but Marnie pulls her off to the side and scolds her. 

You stare at the mother and daughter for a moment, unable to quite rationalize Jas’s sudden remark. “Sorry about that,” Shane chokes out, sounding embarrassed. You look back at him, realizing that he’s avoiding eye contact. 

“Don’t apologize,” you’re quick to respond, “It’s not your fault.” Silence drags on for what feels like far too long. 

“So—” you choke out. 

“Um—” Shane says. 

The two of you break off and stare at each other expectantly. “You first,” you then say. A million microexpressions seem to flicker across Shane’s face, before he seems to steel his nerves and nod resolutely. 

“Can we go somewhere a little more… private for this?” the man asks, glancing to the left and right. Indeed, you’re somewhat surrounded by other Pelican Town residents. Anything you say here will make it through the grapevine quickly. 

“Sure,” you agree. Admittedly, you have no idea what Shane needs to tell you. You place a hand on his shoulder and point behind him, to a secluded area behind the cover of trees. Shane looks at you for a long moment, as if studying your expression, before nodding and leading you over there. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, once the two of you are successfully concealed behind trees and shrubs. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he’s quick to reassure you. His words still don’t explain the strained expression on his face. Shane takes a deep breath, evidently summoning the courage to continue speaking. “The truth is… I care about you. A lot. In a way that is… more than platonic.”

“And Jas noticed,” Shane continues, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I told her to keep it a secret, because I didn’t want to bother you with it. But… she’s only seven years old, and she’s not very good at keeping secrets yet.”

“When we first met, I was such a dick to you because I was attracted to you… and it scared me,” he admits. “So I tried to push you away, but it didn’t get rid of the feelings. And they only grew stronger the more I got to know you.” He sighs. 

“I hope this doesn’t change anything between us,” Shane says with inexplicable certainty. “I’ve been—I’ve been burying those feelings, because I’d much rather be friends than strangers.” It doesn’t even appear as if he’s perceiving you at all—he had a preconceived notion of how this conversation would go, and he’s assuming that it must be true. But you haven’t had a chance to speak up yet. 

“Shane,” you say. He doesn’t respond, instead turning on his heel and moving to walk away. You make a grab for his wrist and gently tug him back, before quickly releasing his arm. He looks at you quizzically. “I’m attracted to you too.”

There’s a long pause. “Very funny,” Shane eventually scoffs. 

“What?” you ask incredulously. “I’m not joking,” you maintain, your heart thundering away in your chest. 

“Sure you aren’t,” Shane sighs resignedly. He glances over your shoulder and looks across your immediate surroundings, as if searching for something. “Did someone put you up to this?” he asks. 

“No—” you try to say. 

“I thought you were different,” Shane interjects, his voice cracking. The betrayed expression on his face makes you nauseous. No matter what you say, he’s not listening. It seems words aren’t what you need right now. And you’re feeling brave tonight—what with the mayoral election going well and Shane confessing his feelings for you. You don’t try to explain it again. Instead, you surge forward and kiss him.

For an awful moment, he stiffens and you quickly pull back—afraid that you’ve just made a grave misstep. Then, just as things seem to be clear-cut, Shane tugs you closer and embraces you. Your hands find his shoulders and he immediately reciprocates, a hand cradling your cheek and another tangled in your belt loop. He’s pulling you so close you feel as if you’re going to fall into him, but his grip is strong and unwavering. 

You’re breathless when you break apart. “I’m serious,” you say, somewhat winded. Something in your eyes must convince him that you’re being genuine, because he stares at you for a moment before understanding passes over his face. He leans in closer and just as you’re about to close the distance between you again, there’s the harsh sound of a stick snapping underfoot.

“...Hey guys,” Abigail grins. Shane and you quickly move away from one another, but you get the feeling it’s far too late. 

“Don’t pretend to hide it,” Sam adds, only confirming your suspicions that pretense is futile.  

“You three don’t look very surprised,” you say, squinting at them skeptically. Indeed, the group looks smug. You swear you see Abigail elbow Sam in the side and mutter something about a bet, but you quickly forget that as the conversation continues. 

“It was obvious,” Sebastian pipes up. Sam nods in agreement. 

Meanwhile, Shane is stiffening at your side. You know that Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian are just joking around, but you don’t want Shane to feel uncomfortable. “Okay, that’s enough—!” you interject, before any more damage can be done. “Thank you all for your input.” You promptly shoo them away. 

When you turn your attention back to Shane, you find him studying the ground with unusual interest. You resist the urge to laugh, but you must not hide your amusement very well, because Shane turns back around and squints at you. “What are you laughing at?” He asks, something reminiscent of a pout rising on his face. 

“Nothing,” you say. “You’re just cute,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. 

“...Really?” Shane squints at you, as if you’re lying. 

“Yes,” you respond easily. Shane hasn’t been complimented many times before, judging from his skeptical reaction. Fortunately, you’re more than willing to shower him in endless praise—and you plan to do so for the foreseeable future. As if sensing your thoughts, Shane pulls you into another kiss and you promptly forget what you were going to say.

endnotes: Shane and Marnie are just mayoral catnip.

And Jas ships it. She’s a mastermind, let’s be real.

y’all i’m so gone for shane it’s NOT EVEN FUNNY. This wasn’t supposed to be this long but I COULDN’T STOP WRITING. i need this man so bad. SO. FUCKING BAD.

…anyways here’s some vote tallies: Voted for you: Abigail, Alex, Caroline, Demetrius, Elliott, Emily, Evelyn, George, Haley, Harvey, Jodi, Leah, Maru, Penny, Robin, Sam, Sebastian, Shane, Willy Voted for Lewis: Clint, Gus, Kent, Marnie, Pam, Pierre Didn’t vote/didn’t care to vote/too young to vote: Dwarf, Krobus, Leo, Linus, Jas, Wizard & Lewis and you aren’t allowed to vote, since you’re candidates.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

[lalawlrd]

The Morning After

SDV Sebastian x GN! Reader

REALLY Short blurb thingy i wrote to oil up the gears in my brain. hope you enjoy! ♡

WARNING: a little bit of angst if you squint your eyes

masterlist

• • — ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ — • •

The morning after you and Sebastian married, he found himself keeping his eyes closed despite having woken up minutes ago. He knew that the events of the previous day were real. He knew in his heart that the joy he felt was sincere and not just another one of his fantasies. He recalls the shake in his hands while he waited for you to walk down the aisle, the jittery nerves that sent waves of restlessness through his body. He remembers seeing your white cloth clad form and the sudden realization that his cheeks were damp and reaching up to find himself shedding tears. He remembers the sweet scent of your fairy rose bouquet while he lifted your veil and the breath that left his lungs when he gazed upon your blushing, smiley face. He memorized the eyes that looked back at him like he was the only one who ever mattered. Yet, he keeps his eyes closed a moment longer, in fear that the reality that awaited him was one where you did not exist, where he would wake up to the sight of the black painted wood ceilings of his bleak bedroom.

He braced himself for the worst. The tears almost fell as soon as his eyes fluttered open. Relief rallied through his body upon seeing the silly wallpaper of your shared bedroom. A memory of you stating that it "gave your house 'personality'" flashed across his mind, and a tiny smile spread across his face. He looked down and, while he was never one for religion, he couldn't help but mutter a prayer upon seeing you. You, the city turned countryside farmer with your warm and tanned skin glowing from the constant kisses peppered by the sun while you worked. You, with the content and blissful look on your sleeping face, completely yielding and trusting him with your heart and soul despite the shortcomings he knew he had. You, who vowed to spend the rest of your days loving away the loneliness that chased his heart at the thought of home. "Yoba," he said, "thank you."

[lalawlrd]

Beyond Time

the doctor x reader

hello! i haven't written a single work of fiction in over 5 years, but i've recently fallen down into the (dark) hole of Dr. Who, and i just HAD to write it out. i hope you enjoy this little blurb i did, and i apologize for any inconsistencies or grammatical errors.

p.s., i had no specific doctor incarnation in mind, but i chose a GIF with 10th because he's my fave. teehee

thank you! ♡

WARNING: SLIGHT angst, mainly fluff

masterlist

• • — ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ — • •

The Doctor was no stranger to love.

Quite frankly, it would be stranger so to not have loved and been loved in the centuries he's been alive.

Immortality, however, is a lonely existence. People are fickle. They change and grow over the years, sometimes for the worst, and one day you'll look at them and find a different face staring back at you. He's seen it happen. He watched his planet, his home, his people, the once honorable and renowned time-lords, succumb to greed and the lust for power. He was there when they began to destroy themselves and other species in the process. He was there as the number of time lords dwindled, and still he remains as the last one standing. The time lord victorious, the oncoming storm.

He, too, is not a saint to change. Each regeneration is a new fragment of the doctor coming forth to live out its turn. Each time, he lived countless different lives. He has been kind and gentle, brilliant and wise, merciless and cold. No matter the person he becomes, one factor stayed true. The one seemingly trivial matter that kept him grounded, that made him The Doctor.

Love. As cliche as it was the, The Doctor loved loving.

He loved the swirling colors of reds and blues of the setting sun in the Artifex Nebula. He loved the genuine, unbridled laughter of children, of those young, innocent, and curious minds. He loved traveling through time and space and expanding his knowledge across the vast and endless universe. He loved the whirling sound of the TARDIS how his heartbeats sped up in tandem, promising thrill and adventure.

Above all, he loved having a companion. He loved the wonder that lit up their eyes as they explored different planets and the lightness he felt in their spirits. He loved the joy in their faces and the awe of discovering the impossible. But most of all, he loved their presence. Each companion was special and held an irreplaceable place in his soul.

He loved Rose Tyler and the fire in her heart. He loved her courage and the way her sense of justice reflected so naturally in all her actions.

He loved River Song and her mind, her quick wit and incredible intelligence. He loved the lightness and the freedom that came from just being around her.


He loved Donna Noble in all her loud, unapologetic existence. He loved how she kept him grounded and how she persevered through sheer determination and will.

Every single one of his companions were shining stars in his long, deathless existence.

But just like stars, they all came to an end. He knew that each time he chose a partner, it was always temporary. He knew it would be ephemeral and short. He knew that the day that his companions became a memory would come sooner than later. But still, he loved. Still, with the knowledge that pain and emptiness will come, he offered them a hand in his TARDIS, a place in his life, a spot in his soul reserved only for them. He fought for that love and he knew it was what made him different from the monsters he fought. He knew love, true and genuine and pure, and yearned for it. Sought it. Found it. He found love in friendship and in found family and in romantic partners. He thought all of love, raw and all consuming.

Then came a catalyst.

His catalyst.

(Y/N) (L/N). Brilliant. Indomitable. Gentle. Beautiful. All the words in all the 57 billion languages (and counting) he knew, and there would never be enough words to encapsulate the force of nature that you were. You grounded him. You reminded him of the why, the purpose to all his journeys. You were patience incarnate. You accepted all the beings, all the creatures, you met with open arms, despite how strange he knew their customs were to you. You were the incarnate of everything beautiful, the reason cells broke apart and merged together, the life that came with each inhaled breath, the space between senseless and sense.

And here you were, with your incredible dazzling soul, standing in front of him under glittering stars in a black sand beach on a foreign planet with a name he couldn't remember.

Couldn't remember because he couldn't think about anything besides how if the universe closed in on itself right here, he would go out with no regrets, because you were smiling at him. All teeth and eyes closed, velvet locks tousled in the soft breeze, cheeks pulled up and flushed under your smile. Your clothes were darkened in spots from the droplets of water and the sun was angled directly behind your head like a halo, casting your frame in an almost ethereal glow. He watched as your hand reached up to run your hands through your hair, his breath catching as your eyes closed and your smile softened into a crescent.

"I love you," he found himself saying. His thoughts paused, his hearts along with them. He hadn't allowed himself to say those words to his companions. It was too fleeting, the time never right, their time together far too short. It only opened up more heartbreak and, selfishly, he couldn't admit it aloud. However, the words fell from his hearts faster than his brain could ration and his breath caught, waiting. waiting. waiting for the oncoming rejection, bracing for the wave of shame and embarrassment that was ought to shackle him in five, four, three, two, one-

"I love you," came the sweet melody of your voice. His hearts seized and thumped in his chest, begging to be let out and held in your hands. He knew they, he, belonged to you. Be knew you were going to be the greatest loss of his life. But he also knew all the heartache in his long life was worth it for these few moments. He knew that even if it hurt later on, he wouldn't survive a life without loving you. He wanted to know you. To discover every thing that made you laugh so that he could always make it your reality. He wanted to be the shoulder you leant on in your times of sorrow. He wanted to be the one you cuddled up to when it was cold and storming and when you buried your face into a good book. He wanted to be there, for as long as you would let him, as long as fate would allow.

So, with his mind filled with visions of futures with him and you, he jumped head first into your warm, accepting embrace, unafraid and willing.

[lalawlrd]

Aelin's Masterlist! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ੈ✩‧₊˚ if you would like me to write a fic, please let me know! asks are open and i write for multiple fandoms. :)

fluff 🫧 | smut 💋 | angst ☁️ | headcanon 💄 |

Doctor Who ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

༺ Beyond Time 🫧☁️ - the doctor x reader

Stardew Valley ᯓ★ˎˊ˗

༺ The Morning After 🫧☁️ - sebastian x gn! reader

༺ Juno 🫧 - shane x afab! reader

༺ Husband! Sebastian 🫧💄 - sebastian x gn! reader

༺ Tell Me to Stay (1) (2) ☁️ - sebastian x gn! reader

to be updated ...