#// shane lite

[ofbckers]

closed starter // @lostvulpes

Basil had been hunting for leads on the Crocs gang for several years now, but they always seemed a tad too shifty and fast for him to find. He didn't like going after a hunch unless he was completely sure of himself - a feeling which often followed the detective when he was given enough time to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Unfortunately, when things we're lining up, he did have to make some associations that weren't quite his cup of tea... If Basil had any evidence to prove it, he might've thought that Shane was involved in the drug trade himself, but the younger man had made clear his disdain for the Crocs several times.

Which made him the perfect informant if Basil wanted to start tracing the gang activity - Shane was seemingly just involved enough to answer questions. He hung out with the right crowds, observed enough quarrels over stupid things like territory or buyers. Basil would say he trusted Shane, far from it, but at least he gave intel when all of the detectives other sources dried up, "You're sure you saw some of the fisherman down here making trades?"

[dcvilbcy]

closed starter // @lostvulpes

Contrary to their general aura, Lorcan was not actually much of a party type. They partook in pixie dust or weed when they needed a break, especially when Oberron was getting on their ass about work, but otherwise they liked to keep a level head. They'd heard enough times back in school that their mind wasn't good for anything, so Lorcan didn't really like not having all of their mental facilities available when going out.

Of course, the dealer could still get themself into trouble when they were just stone-cold sober, and that was the worst part. Like right now for example, Lorcan had made the mistake of balancing a little too close to edge of a window sill at this house party, tipping themself out, and almost eating shit on the ground two stories below. By the grace of a higher power ( or just a random party-goer's assistance ), Lorcan got a good grip on the sill once more, hoisting themself into a grappled position with the outside wall, "Hey, uh, can I get. a little help here?"

[eveningstcr]

closed starter // @lostvulpes

Tiana would forever be grateful for the safety and stability of their home life growing up with two parents. Sure, they both worked and didn't have a lot of free time, but Tiana had a roof over their head and lots of love, which was more than could be said for many of their classmates and friends. In some ways, Tiana also felt grateful for many of the friends they made through the orphanage and publics schools too, because it allowed them to share that loving family life with those who didn't have one.

Of course, there were always the boys who resisted family life, had too many walls built up and turned away from having parental figures again. Tiana knew not to push Shane too hard on that front - his cool, collected exterior always made it seem like he had no greater wants in the world than to party and let himself get loose, "Uh uh, Shane, I can't go out tonight," Tiana shook their head, laughing at how the party boy danced, "You know how it is, I'd be late to work in the morning."

[godscobhhq]

Slightly from Peter Pan

Name: Shane 'Slighty' Lite Age: 30 Profession: Drug dealer, second in command to Peter Pronouns: He/Him FC suggestions: BooBoo Stewart, Tom Glynn-Carney, Jordan Fisher Face Claim: Avan Jogia Availability: Taken

It's easy to forget that Shane is the right hand to one of Godscobh's most ruthless gang leaders. With his relaxed disposition, perpetual smile, and proclivity for partying, he hardly fits the part of a hardened criminal. The persona Shane has cultivated is a role he plays to perfection, distancing himself in the public eye from both the Lost Boys and the image of the angry foster kid he was when Pan first found him.

Shane bounced around foster homes for much of his youth. He remembers his father only as a terrifying shadow that looms over his earliest memories. A man the young boy barely knew before he landed himself in prison. His mother, on the other hand, was a kind woman who battled with addiction as a means of coping with Shane's father and struggling to make ends meet — at least that's how he likes to remember her. It wasn't long after her husband's conviction that she ended up in a rehab facility herself and Shane, only seven years old, was placed in his first foster home.

To say he didn't adjust well would be an understatement. Shane lashed out anyone and everyone, adamantly claiming that his mother would come get him soon. Anything to push down the feeling that he'd been abandoned. It was an attitude he maintained no matter how often her promise to take him home amounted to nothing. No matter how many times she failed to show up at all. Shane got himself kicked out of a dozen different homes over the years as his hopes were repeatedly raised and then promptly dashed. It was a vicious cycle that only ended when he learned that if he wanted to visit his mother again, it would be at the burial grounds of Our Lady of Immaculate.

That's when Pan entered his life.

Peter saw potential in Shane and offered him a hand when no one else would. By the time they aged out of the foster system together, Shane was practically a different person entirely. Charismatic and cunning where he had once been angry and aimless. Being a Lost Boy has given his life purpose and family — for that, his loyalty to Peter is unwavering.

Notable character information: Shane was the first official member to the lost boys after Peter. He pretty much owes everything he has to his friend he calls a brother, and Peter can be a pain in the ass about reminding him of it.

[megamindsecretlair]

Call Out My Name

Pairing: Businessman!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, stranger sex, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) teasing, cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, referring to female anatomy as she, all consensual. D/s lite. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: At a work conference, your boring coworkers want to continue hanging out. Needing your alone time, you head to the hotel bar for a quick drink before you headed upstairs. But when a gorgeous stranger buys your drink, it entices you to do something you’d never done before. Be bold. 

Word Count: 5,426k

AO3 Link

A/N: This is a wonderful ask from @westside-rot. I have not been able to stop thinking about businessman Stunna all day. Welp, here we are LOL. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @00aijia00 @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby

Your coworkers spilled out of the conference room in a fit of laughter. Your laugh sounded so fake, even to your ears, but your coworkers were none the wiser. They stated that they wanted to keep the party going and go out for drinks and a later dinner.

Ugh. Spare you. It was bad enough being stuck in a hot ass conference room with these people but it was even worse that they wanted to keep going. It was past nine o’clock and you couldn’t stomach them for one second longer.

Usually, you did these conferences by yourself. You volunteered for the position for free travel and the chance to step out of your shoes for a minute. These people didn’t know you. It was a chance to ease the burdens of your life. But this was a bigger conference, so your boss let the four of you go.

“I’m actually so tired,” you said and heaved a yawn, stretching it out to really look convincing. “I couldn’t stay awake if I tried!”

“Oh, come on! You’re such an old lady!” One of your coworkers, Shane, said and shook his auburn hair. 

“Hey! It takes a routine to look this good at my age,” you said and pointed to yourself and your cream and brown outfit. Your coworkers laughed, waving goodbye, with final pleas to go ahead and join them. God, no thanks. 

You headed towards the hotel bar, feeling that much lighter just from getting rid of their energy. More people needed to appreciate a little quiet and solitude. Entering the hotel bar, your heels clicked on the faux wood as you looked around. It had a nostalgic sort of vibe, with soft neon light, wooden tables, and a TV playing in the corner. 

It was perfect. It looked like the type of place where everyone minded their own fucking business. You walked over to the bar, planting your brown jacket and purse on the seat to your left. You caught the bartender’s attention and ordered your favorite drink. 

As you waited for him to make it, you pulled out your phone and scrolled to your current favorite fanfic on Tumblr. You just needed a good drink and some alone time in the hotel room. You could almost feel the cool air on your skin as you sat and relaxed with good writing. 

The bartender slid your glass into your line of sight. You mumbled a thanks and pulled out your wallet.

“It’s been taken care of,” he said. 

You finally look up, puzzled, because who the hell would do that? The bartender tilted his head to your right. You turned, looking into the face of a god. It took all your willpower not to drop your draw and ogle him.

You licked your lips to give you time to stall, because goddamn. You were suddenly too aware of your heartbeat thumping in your chest and down below. You didn’t think people could have physical reactions to real life people and yet here you were.

You grabbed the drink and lifted it in a silent thanks to the mystery man. He nursed his own drink, glass barely filled with a dark, amber liquid. He pointed to the seat next to you and you hoped you didn’t look too desperate by nodding your head. 

He got off of the stool and damn. He was fine as hell. He was taller than you, impossibly tall, with long legs and decked out in a burgundy suit with a dark gray shirt, tie slightly askew from around his neck. The top button was undone, showing off a chiseled chest. 

You watched as he sauntered over and sat one seat away from you. Close enough to converse while still giving you some space. You were really starting to like him. 

He smiled and introduced himself. “But most people call me Stunna,” he said and smirked like he admired how silly that was. 

“Dare I ask why?” You asked.

“He shrugged. Something that stuck around since high school. You wear one shiny outfit and everybody’s a clown all of a sudden,” he said. 

You laughed, shaking your head and taking a sip of your drink. “You did not!” 

Stunna laughed, showing a radiant smile that completely transformed his face. He was stunning before, but he smiled like the first break of dawn across the horizon. Now you understood why they called him Stunna. 

“I promise I did. Although I burned all the evidence because no one needed to keep that around,” he said.

Conversation flowed easily with him. You told him your name and why you were at the conference. He told you all about his modest gaming company. Modest. You gushed all over the games that he produced, sharing your joy over the games that meant so much to you.

“There’s no way you really play,” he said. 

You nodded. “Believe it. Night and Sky? I cried by the time I finished and then played it fifty thousand more times,” you said.

Stunna laughed and shook his head. “You have no idea how much this means to me. It’s good to hear something good about my work every once in a while,” he said. 

Since you had that Stunna in front of you, you had thousands of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Still, you persevered, rapidly asking him questions. Bless him, he answered every single one. 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m no better than the people in the audience,” you said. You slapped your hands to your cheeks, feeling utterly mortified. You wished the soft, dark wood of the bar would swallow you whole. You instantly regretted nerding out all over a stranger, all over Stunna of all people. 

Stunna laughed. “I promise, you’re all good,” he said. When you shook your head, he chuckled again. Oh his voice was deep like chocolate and as savory as coffee. You just wanted to take a deep dive into it and never look back. 

And his eye contact was insane. You often had to look away from him, body heating in all the right ways from being under intense scrutiny. You waved your hand to dismiss his words or more like a visual cue to clear your mind from all of your racing, nasty thoughts. 

Maybe it was the long day. Maybe it had been too long since you were satisfied by something other than your fingers. But all you could think of was being bold. Warning signs and danger tones rang in your head as you thought of taking home a complete stranger. You watched enough TV to know that people never had the best intentions.

But hell. You were too willing to ignore all of that. You took in the cut of his suit, tailored, not off the rack. The flash of gold on his wrist from his huge watch. The long, thick fingers that you imagined wrapped around your throat.

And his lips. God, his lips. You wanted to get lost in those full lips. The way he spoke. The bite of hood to his tone to suggest that he wasn’t silver bred. The way that he absently stroked his teeth with his tongue. Was he doing it on purpose? To drive you completely mad? 

You saw his lips moving but swore that no sound came out. You weren’t drunk, just a little tipsy, so you couldn’t blame it on that. It was simply that you felt him. Was that weird? There was this connection getting built between the two of you, brick by brick, laugh by laugh. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked.

“I said, are you good?” He asked.

You nodded your head. So, so, so good. Your mind had a tendency to wander so you pulled it back in by looking at Stunna’s lips. It was just as distracting as his eyes but at least you didn’t get flustered looking at his lips. 

Conversation turned towards griping about the conference, finding camaraderie by complaining about the same things. The overpriced food, the stinky attendants, and the anxiety of it all getting up in front of a crowd. Still, there were good parts to being a nerd.

Bold. Bold. Bold. Your heart was thundering in your chest, beating rapidly, out of control. So fast, you felt it at the base of your throat. You took the final sip of your drink, letting the sweet burn travel down to warm your belly. Your pussy gave a little throb like she was encouraging you on, rooting to get fucked as much as you were. 

You stood up and grabbed your things. Stunna looked disappointed for a moment, smile dropping inch by inch. It felt cruel to tease him like this but you couldn’t help it. You dug in your purse and pulled out the spare keycard.

You usually carried one, but you were in a rush this morning and ended up bringing both. You slid it across the bar table as you walked closer to him.

He smelled amazing up close. Like wood smoke and fresh mountain air. You leaned in a little closer than you would normally dare, bringing your hand close to his. You tapped the keycard, pushing it under his palm.

“Why don’t you come meet me upstairs,” you said, not really phrasing it as a question. Stunna lifted an eyebrow, looking from the key card, to your eyes, to the low swoop of your cream dress. 

His eyes moved slowly back to yours, locked, a smile curving his lips. “That right?” He asked. 

You nodded, stepping closer. You put your hand on his forearm, leaning into his ear. “I like it nasty,” you whispered in his ear, ending it with a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

Stunna sighed, sealing it with a chuckle. You walked away, hoping you weren’t too forward, as you hurried to the elevator. You forgot to give him a time limit and wondered if he’d follow you too soon, not even giving you the chance to strip and entice him upon entrance.

You rode the elevator to your floor, anticipation thrumming in your veins at the prospect. There was a tiny bit of doubt. After all, he had plenty of reason to think it was a trap. Ill intentions knew no bounds. But you hoped. Hoped that he’d join you on this crazy idea in this random city and at this random graphic arts conference. 

The paisley flooring blended well with the pinkish brown walls, striped paneling along the bottom half giving it a subtle interesting look. There were lights covered in intricate bowls, illuminating your way to your room. 

Your hands shook as you opened your door, glancing behind you at the elevator doors. Was he on it now? Was he eager? Would he show? Fuck, you hoped so. You’d hate to have to take care of yourself tonight. It wouldn’t be the same. 

You closed the door, scurrying inside and flipping only the lamp light on. You pushed your suitcase out of the way, cleaned up lingering trash people tended to  accumulate in hotel rooms. You hurriedly locked away any valuables, your wallet and the like. Just in case. You could be a dumb bitch right now, but at least you weren’t completely lost. 

You took off your dress, hanging it up in the closet. You stood there in your cream lacy bra and panties, with little bows on the sides. You liked wearing sexy things. It made you feel confident and desirable. You kept your heels on and then sat down on your bed. 

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on your door. You gasped, wiping sweaty palms on your thick thighs as you got up and went to the door. The lock beeped, the mechanics whirring, as Stunna opened the door.

Seeing you standing here, posing, he stopped for a moment with a smile on his face. “Uh, damn,” he breathed, taking in your sexy form. You felt amazing under his gaze, reading the truth of his lust in his dark eyes. 

He still wore the burgundy suit and he had to turn to fit into your doorframe. Standing next to him, you did have to crane your head a bit, as you looked into his eyes. He bit his lip as he made a show of looking you up and down.

Everywhere he looked, you felt like a physical caress on your skin. You felt exposed even though you were covering the good bits. “Look at you looking so pretty. All of this for me?” He asked.

You nodded. “Don’t you know that you shouldn’t play with strangers?” He asked.

You grinned and shook your head. “I couldn’t help it,” you admitted. Shocked to find that it was the absolute truth. You truly couldn’t help it. You needed this man in the worst way. An ache burrowed into your core, leaving you feeling needy and desperate. 

He walked further into the room, taking one look around. He looked down, looking at your breasts and he licked his lips. “Get down on them knees,” he commanded.

You were on fire. Burning incessantly. Waves and waves of heat moving up and down your spine. You slowly got to your knees, bending down while looking him in the eyes. He smirked. “I’m clean, but I’d understand if you didn’t want to,” he said.

“I invited you up here, remember?” You asked. You fell completely to your knees, the plush carpet like heaven on your knees. 

“You can say stop at any time,” he said. 

Your teeth bit your bottom lip, kneel-walking closer to him. You looked up. You really had to crane your neck now. Your hands worked at his button and zipper, freeing the growing bulge between his legs. Your eyes widened. You knew that he’d be big but…he had an impressive dick print, filling out his dark briefs in the best way.

He had strong thighs, a dusting of hair on his legs. You pushed his pants down further, running your nails softly against his dick. He hissed, rolling his neck. “I can use my words,” you said. 

“That right? What else that mouth do then?” He took off his suit jacket, tossing it onto the nearby chair. He loosened his tie more, unbuttoning the second button on his shirt, and then rolled up his sleeves. He revealed his forearms, strong powerful works of art. 

You grinned and buried your face in his bulge, running your nose across the thick length. His fingers caressed your forehead, cheek, and chin. You moved to push down his briefs, dragging down his thighs and salivating at the thought of fitting him in your mouth. 

You could feel your essence gathering between your thighs, pussy aching and throbbing, begging to be played with. His dick sprang free, bouncing, as it waved in your face. He was incredibly huge. How were you going to fit him all in? 

You’d have to use both hands to satisfy this man. You looked at him as you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out. Stunna grabbed his dick, tapping the tip against your tongue and moaning at the sight. 

You wrapped your lips around his length, suckling him down. He groaned, hands gripping the base of your neck and pulling you closer, taking him deeper. “Fuck, just like that. Get it nice and wet for your pussy,” he moaned.

You cried, picturing just that nasty image. You slobbered on him. Suckling and retreating, bobbing up and down, slurping and moaning. Hands massaging his shaft where your lips couldn’t reach. Stunna groaned as you sucked him off, grabbing a fistful of your braids. 

You cried, placing your hands on his thighs for leverage. It turned you on more and more, hearing his hisses and groans, knowing that he was fully clothed while you were not. He gripped your braids tighter, lifting an eyebrow at you.

You nodded, answering his silent question. Yes, you were alright. Yes, you were getting excited with the way he made sure you felt comfortable. Whatever this man wanted, you were willing to move heaven and earth to achieve it. 

“Fuck, this mouth is perfect. Damn girl, suck it like you own it. That’s all yours right there,” he moaned, encouraging you. You spat on his dick, suckling him back down. 

“You want it real nice and wet for that pussy, don’t you?” He asked. You nodded, gulping him down as far as you were able. 

Stunna jerked and twitched, abruptly pulling himself out of your mouth. You whined, leaning forward to try to suck him back in. “You keep doing that, I’ma bust,” he said and chuckled. 

“I want you to,” you said and pouted. You had no clue how he knew. How he knew what to say or how to treat you. How easy it was to surrender. No fight, no battle, no war to be won. You saw this man and you wanted. 

You wanted him in the worst way. And all it took was a little boldness on your part. A little shove in the right direction. A little clear and decisive action. Sliding your keycard to him was the wildest thing ever. Stuff of stories somewhere in the blogosphere. But here you were, catering to a man who knew what to do.

There was no coaching. No training. No room for you to argue and hassle over how to handle your body. Guys treated sex like they were lord and master over a woman’s body. As if you hadn’t spent your entire life with it. Every bump, mole, or scratch on you was accounted for. You knew your body best. So why wouldn’t a guy listen to how best to please you? 

None of that arrogance was present in Stunna. He eyed you like you were a goddess. Like there were curves and rolls that he wanted to explore, he just wasn’t sure where first. 

He held out his hands and helped you stand up. He grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a quick, bruising kiss. You gasped into his mouth, allowing his tongue to sweep in and explore your mouth. Your tongues dueled and danced, twirling and circling. He moaned as he sucked on your lips, tugging, feeling an answering tug in your pussy. 

You were dripping, absolutely ruining your panties. His hands caressed your shoulders, moving down your sides, and finally cupping your ass. He made a deep groaning sound, squeezing your ass and separating your cheeks just because he could. 

“Let me see how wet you are for me,” he said. He guided you to the bed, pulling on the middle of your panties. His knuckle brushed your wet heat and you gasped, looking at him.

He kept that same intense look in his eyes, staring at you while you moaned and whined. He bit his lip, watching you. Watching every sigh, every grimace, every jerk of your body. 

“How wet that pussy get?” He asked. He continued to rub his knuckle up and down your slit. You grew wetter under his attention, oozing your essence in slow waves. Your teeth were chattering, clicking as you felt your tummy getting tighter.

You gripped onto his forearm, squeezing and feeling his tendons move as he played with your pussy. He opened his hand, fingers swirling around your clit. Fuck, you were on fire. Burning and burning with no end to the suffering. 

“S-Stunna,” you stuttered. 

“Oh, say it again,” he growled, voice deep and commanding respect. 

“S-Stunna, fuck! Oh my god, oh my god,” you moaned. 

“Mhm, loud and clear, baby,” he moaned.

You moaned louder, letting him know verbally that he was doing something very well. He dipped his middle two fingers in your pussy and you leaned off of the bed, clutching his forearm. He grabbed your wrist with his free hand, pinning it to the bed near your head.

“Keep that shit down, fuck you fighting for?” He asked. “Let that shit go. Let it all go. Let the bullshit go and come get yours,” he said.

“Yes, sir, yes, sir,” you moaned, choppy, ragged sounds escaping you. You focused on your orgasm, teased it to the front as you thought about this gorgeous man bringing you pleasure. How he seemed to be a figment of your imagination.

Something your mind conjured up, surely. There was no way he could be this perfect. This focused on your pleasure. He used this thumb to press on your clit. And like a bottle rocket, you were off. Screaming your pleasure and entering the upper atmosphere. You couldn’t breathe, clutching the sheets and bringing it to tuck under your neck as you exploded on his fingers.

Stunna cooed, watching you. “So fucking pretty. So fucking good cumming all over these fingers. Fuck, I could watch you all day and night,” he groaned. “Pussy nice and fucking juicy.” 

He got to his knees, grabbing your thighs while you were momentarily out of it. You squealed as he pulled your ass off of the bed, moving your panties to the side, and then sealing his lips to your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! Stunna! Right there!” You screamed, hands flying to the back of his neck and holding on. Stunna planted his hands on your thighs and pushed, nearly folding you in half. There was pressure on your lower back, legs too thick to hold up on their own, even with his assistance.

You hooked your arms under your legs to hold them open, getting back into the groove of his tongue lapping at your juices. There were lewd, sucking noises as he ate you out. His tongue was big enough for slow circles that touched your clit and your entrance. Round and round he went, getting you worked up to the point that you couldn’t hold yourself proper anymore. You just wanted to collapse, to give in to the dying star in your heart as it wanted to blast you into pieces. Scatter you across the universe to drift endlessly. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whispered. 

“Wet ass pussy. Can suck on this shit all night,” Stunna moaned, continuing to eat you out. It was official. Stunna ruined you for all others. No one else would be able to take you to such heights. Multiple times? You were turning into liquid jelly all at the masterful way he commanded your body. 

Stunna wiggled his tongue back and forth over your pussy, dipping his long tongue into your entrance before returning to your clit and becoming ruthless. He flicked his tongue faster and faster. Your tummy fluttered, getting tighter, twisting, toes curling.

“Look at me, pretty,” he demanded.

You whined as you looked to him for help. Stunna smirked. He watched you as he slobbered over your pussy, adding to your juices, and making your thighs slick. You caressed Stunna’s head, scratching his scalp.

Stunna moaned as you found a good spot, and he started to gyrate like he was already fucking into you. His arm jerked as you assumed he finally took himself into his own hands, tugging on his meat with a frenzied jerk. 

You came first, exploding on his tongue while screaming his name and shaking and twitching. Your eyes rolled back into your head, body shivering, light shooting behind your eyelids. 

“Stunna, Stunna, Stunna,” you hyperventilated. You needed mercy. You needed to tap out. But fuck, you were trying to make it to the finish line. Trying to be good so you could get a taste of that dick deep within your walls. You needed to get stretched out and disrespected. 

Stunna moaned as you shook on your way down from your orgasm. He wrapped up eating you out, slowing down, fewer and fewer licks. You were sensitive, twitching with every stroke of his tongue. 

“Stunna, please,” you rasped.

Stunna chuckled, standing up and wiping his dripping mouth. He smoothed your juices into his beard, letting you soak all of it. You licked your lips as you looked at him between half-lidded eyes. 

“Time to put in work, pretty,” he said. “You still with me?”

You nodded. “This is the best sex I’ve ever had,” you said. You were beyond feeling ashamed admitting that. You’d had some satisfying lays. Some not so much. But nothing, nothing, nothing compared to Stunna. That sexy smile. That deep voice. His natural manliness that only made you want to serve him. To give him whatever he wanted. To be his free use little whore who took his big dick whenever he needed to empty his balls. 

Stunna grinned, leaning over your overheated body. He kissed you. You tasted and smelled yourself on him. It only fueled you to gyrate against him. So needy already. He had been rocking your world all night and here you were begging for me. He hadn’t come once. Selfish, selfish, and yet, you continued to writhe your body against his. Silently pleading for him to go ahead and take you. 

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that? Perfect,” he whispered against your lips and went right back to kissing you. He kissed you like he ate you out, sloppy, desperate, and like it gave him absolute pleasure to feel your lips on his. 

Stunna stood up, and loosened the rest of his tie and slipped it over his head. He tossed it onto the floor and then went to work on his shirt, going through the buttons with unparalleled speed. He took the shirt off and you gasped, eyes widening to take in all of him.

He had an amazing, thick body. Broad shoulders. Lean hips. Legs for days. His chest rose and fell as he smirked, taking off his shoes, pants and briefs in one fell swoop. He snatched up his pants, pulling out his wallet and then pulling out a condom. You loved a prepared man. 

He took his time rolling the latex down his huge dick. You watched it glide further and further down to his base. He stepped back into the heat of your body, grabbing your hips to line you up properly. 

Stunna caressed your lips, thumb running across your kiss-swollen lips. “You can tell me to stop at any time,” he said. 

“I know,” you whispered and nodded, giving him that clear permission to do what needed done. 

Stunna grabbed his base and then guided himself inside, groaning at how you instantly gripped his dick. Sweat dripped down the side of his face. Fuck, he was gorgeous. His mouth hung open as he concentrated on your pussy, on fitting as much of him inside as he was able. 

He pulled out when he met resistance, plunging back in and getting deeper. He repeated the motion, letting you get used to his size. You pushed at his stomach. Not that you wanted him to stop. But fuck, you needed to hold onto something before you came apart at the seams. 

You took him more easily, all the prepwork well worth it. “Oh, oh, oh fuck,” you cried, sounds getting higher in pitch as he started to increase his strokes.

His hips moved in a roll, fucking into you. He gripped your hips, squeezing, punishing, as he continued on, slamming into your walls with enough force to shake the bed. He groaned as he found a deep rhythm, jackhammering inside your pussy. 

He moved his arms to brace himself on the bed, pushing your legs up in the process. You whimpered, looking at him. It was too much. Fuck, it was too much. And yet, it was not enough. Not nearly enough. 

“Oh Stunna, oh baby, oh fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head back against the mattress as you lost yourself to the throes of ecstasy. 

Stunna groaned. “Say it louder, pretty,” he said. He fucked and fucked, dropping his face to your chest and suckling your nipple through your bra. There was a wet heat on your chest but it wasn’t on your skin and it was driving you wild. You cried and begged, no longer aware of what you were saying.

You could be begging for the nastiest shit and you wouldn’t fucking know it. Not while he was hitting it so well. Not when he made sure to take care of you. He bit your nipple and pulled. 

Pressure built in your lower tummy, churning and twisting, until you gripped onto his shoulders and cried out again. This one had to be worse than the last. You whimpered as your left leg shook violently, spasms piercing your leg. Your choppy whine made you scrunch up and start crying, the orgasm too much for you. Feeling too good, to the point of pain. 

Stunna gripped your throat, hard enough to mean business, but light enough that you could escape if you wanted. You moaned, eyes in the back of your skull once more. “Squeezing my shit. You’re doing so well, pretty. So well. Pussy so juicy. So wet,” he moaned as he finally let himself go.

His tortured moan was music to your ears, face slack in relief, as his dick pulsed and throbbed inside. He felt even bigger, stretching you, splitting you open. 

Your harsh breaths matched his as he leaned to the side, on his elbow, while he slowly softened inside. You rubbed his shoulders and his back, almost ashamed of the scratches you must have left there. Soft enough, he pulled out with a choked moan. 

He kissed your skin, kissed your neck, leaving hot wet kisses up to your lips. He gave you a sweet, tender kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. 

You were spent. Blissed out. Fucked to within an inch of your life. All you could do was stare in a daze at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck just happened. Sure, you were there for the festivities, but you were at a loss. There were no thoughts in your head. No swirling, lingering worries about the conference or the lecture you had to give tomorrow. 

Stunna returned to the room, running a warm washcloth between your legs. You whimpered and slapped at his arm.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. You made such a mess, pretty,” he cooed as he cleaned you up, flipping the washcloth and rubbing down your thighs as well. You felt so cherished. So in tune with him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Stunna chuckled. “No, thank you. I’ve never felt like that with anyone else,” he said. 

“Me neither,” you gushed and smiled. 

You couldn’t believe that your ho phase was starting at your big age but you were here for it. Here for more chances like this. You’d likely never see him again, long distance relationships never working out for anyone. You were too greedy. Too needy. You wanted to climb underneath whoever you were with and never come up for air. You couldn’t do that if the guy was halfway across the country. 

“Give me a minute or two to recover. I’m currently paralyzed,” you said and huffed a laugh.

Stunna laughed. He climbed onto the bed and helped you sit up further. You remained on your bed, staring up at him. He laid on his side, head on his hand and leaning against his elbow. He used his right hand to trail his fingers up and down your body, creating a lazy figure 8 pattern.

You talked well into the night, learning more and more about each other’s interests. You moved from video games, to books, to movies. When your yawns became too frequent, barely able to keep your eyes open, Stunna kissed both of your eyelids and ordered you to get under the covers.

He scooted in behind you after turning off the light. “I can leave if you want me to,” he offered.

You wiggled your ass against his front, dick fitting into the crook of your ass. He was huge even at rest. You sighed in deep contentment, snuggling into his heated chest. “Stay. I got plans for you,” you said.

Stunna chuckled and got more comfortable, pulling you into his body. He sighed as well, flexing his hand over your belly in a possessive way that made your heart skip. 

“Well, then, I have to stick around for these plans. Sneak peak?” He asked.

Your answering snores let him know that you were gone, off in dreamland. He chuckled and kissed your forehead, whispering good night and sending a quiet prayer to the universe, thanking it for bringing you to him. 

The end.

There's more Stunna! The Secret Big Stunna Files

[deuteragonists-mismatched-socks]

A Break In Routine - Shane x Reader (Stardew Valley)

Another Shane SDV fic from my drafts with a couple strange gaps in it.

Warnings: mentions of recovering from alcoholism, being imperfect, guilt and self-loathing to a certain extent. Alcohol.

Word Count: 1.4k

Shane wasn't stupid. He knew you knew that. He noticed that, the closer you got, especially after that night on the cliff, you changed. Not so much in the way you dealt with him—you were kind and persevering as ever.

You stopped brewing. He had been out to the farm before, you had like ten kegs and an evergreen crop of hops and wheat to fuel them. And Shane wasn't stupid—he'd almost gone broke from buying the stuff before, so he knew it was lucrative. You'd have to be crazy to give that up. Farmers had it rough, especially ones that worked as hard as you. Having such an easy source of passive income should've been a no-brainer.

Oh, and you stopped bringing him alcohol. You were a social drinker—he'd seen you share Kahlua-and-coffee martinis with the good doctor or bond with Leah over a sweet red. But when it came to Pam and him, you were only ever seen with soda and some filling food in hand. He wondered if you thought he wouldn't notice. If he was too out of it or too naïve.

You visited JojaMart sometimes—normally just to check on him, never to buy anything—and you always had a tense look on your face whenever he was stocking the drinks section. That, that one actually hurt. Yeah, he had bad habits. He was working, only half successfully, on breaking them. But that made him think you really thought he had no self-control. That he was going to wander forward like a zombie and mindlessly rip into the Jack Daniels and Bud Lite. He shouldn't be trusted super far, but he thought he at least deserved the sliver of faith that would be required to believe that wouldn't happen.

That was what he was thinking about as he sat next to the fireplace, cola in a stein in his hand. See, he was doing better. He wasn't used to being fully lucid at this hour of the night, but he was getting there. It was significantly more uncomfortable, sitting there in silence when he wasn't half-catatonic. Everyone else was having a great time. Even Marnie was having a... whoa, beyond friendly conversation with the mayor. Hell, where were you, anyway? You were always trying so hard to make sure he wasn't alone, and now you leave him alone? Maybe he deserved it for all those times he blew you off.

"Hey!" You suddenly appeared in his line of vision. Suddenly, even completely sober, he couldn't sort out his feelings. He was grateful to you for watching out for him; he obviously couldn't do that himself. He was annoyed that you infantilized him. He was confused that you put up with him. Why didn't you just cut loose and stop holding yourself back for someone who has done nothing but screwed over their own life?

"What are you doing here?" Shane said. Crap. That wasn't what he meant to say, not at all. He meant to say 'Why do you stay? Why do you care? I'm not worthy of you.'

Your face fell and Shane needed a drink or six. "Trying to hang out with you," you responded, your voice edged with anger and sadness. "I was—y'know what, I'll leave you be, I just wanted to give this to you."

You held your closed hand out expectantly, and he obliged with an extended palm. 

You dropped a pearl into it.

"Wha—" his mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Oh, wow, Farmer, how did you know this is my favorite?"

You were already gone. He checked the clock on the opposite wall. Well, it was already 12. Maybe you just wanted to get a good night's sleep. He hoped that was all.

But Shane wasn't stupid.

When you exited your house at 6:10 AM sharp the next morning, you almost tripped over him before noticing that Shane was sitting on your steps. This was a huge break in his routine, and it worried you. "Shane? What're you—" You stopped yourself, realizing that you were parroting his words from the previous night. 

"I didn't mean what I said," Shane said abruptly. His murky brown eyes looked into yours with absolute earnesty, and you noticed something rather special about them. They weren't teary or red-striped. He wasn't hungover, at all. 

Your brow furrowed. "About what?"

"About—about... just, how I treat you, y'know. Always blowing you off and acting like you're not worth my time. I know it should be the other way around," his gaze dropped to the ground and he scuffed his foot against the wood of the front steps.

You lowered yourself to sit next to him, knees nearly touching. Time always seemed to stand still when you spoke to him—the sun was stuck in the sky, and you weren't worried about what you were going to get done that day.

"What do you mean, Shane?"

"You know what I mean, Farmer," he said, before exhaling and rubbing his hands on his pants. "I just... I'm not... good enough, for you. I'm a, uh, flash in the pan, I guess. What I'm trying to say... is I'm sorry," he sighed, risking looking up at you again.

Your eyes seemed to look through him. "Shane," you said gently. "You're good enough, for me, for anyone," you emphasized. "And I... do understand why you say the things you do, and they are unfortunate, but I appreciate you recognizing that and apologizing."

Shane looked from your piercing eyes, to your hand that was resting on your knee, centimeters from his, back to your eyes. "I'm trying. Really trying."

You took his hand, and his heart rate spiked. "I know you are, and I know that Marnie and Jas and I really appreciate it."

"Yeah," Shane whispered. Part of him felt guilty—that somehow, Jas wasn't enough to straighten him out. But he was grateful that somehow, you were.

Your thumb rubbed the back of his hand,  comforting him further. He wondered how you could stand touching him. Even after that touching speech, he had a hard time believing you. Even if his personality, his character, was something you seemed to admire, which was beyond him on its own, look at him. He had gained... a number of pounds in the past eight months, he shaved maybe every three days, despite getting a five o'clock shadow by the end of that day. His hair was a genuine disaster, even though Marnie refused to admit it. He was physically clean (most of the time), and that was basically where the pros stopped.

"Thank you so much for coming over here this morning, Shane," you said. Shane had to suppress a shiver at the way you said his name. It didn't sound the way anyone else ever said it. Maybe it was just his imagination. 

But he was more than happy to keep imagining it. "I can't tell you... how much it means to me, that you're reaching out and, and trying. In the most non-patronizing way, I'm proud of you."

He could almost feel tears welling in his eyes. "You're—you're proud of me?"

He hadn't heard that since high school.

"Yeah, of course," you nodded genuinely.

He laughed, almost in disbelief. "Thanks."

You let go of his hand, and Shane had the chance to experience a split-second of disappointment before you used your now free arms to wrap him in a hug. "You can tell me if this is okay or not," you said, your words muffled by his Joja jacket.

"It's okay," he responded quickly, trying not to squeeze you too tightly.

You pulled back, wondering for a moment if it would be going too far, before you decided to press a quick kiss to his cheek. You stood, walking off to water your crops. "I should probably let you go, you don't wanna be late for work."

Shane's face was all pink, and he nodded after a moment's delay. "Right, yeah, um...thanks for listening to me," he stood as well. "See you later."

You watched him take the path from your house into town, zipping up his jacket against the wind. He had patched the holes in it.

[gilbirda]

what are your thoughts on watcher’s new announcement?

So.

I've been watching the Boys since they started back in 2016 (i think around that era), and honestly I'm very conflicted about the decision. I've read so much stuff in favor and against the announcement and I don't know if my answer will satisfy you.

I have managed a community and I have the blessing and curse of being somewhat of a Name, experiencing the ordeal of being Known, and I can tell you that 1)you can never please everyone 2)people will always rush to crush you the second you do something they don't agree with 3)people will always twist everything you do with the worst faith in mind and 4)fandom forget very quickly that at the end of the day you are just human.

I think they made a calculated risk based on a purely economical viewpoint. I think they considered their loyal fanbase and how willing people have been so far with spending extra cash to support them — The live shows, the exclusive streams (like the Valentine's Too Many Spirits) and Patreon. How much of their fanbase was the "broke students" tumblr claim they are and how much was people with spending money willing to pay extra for them.

I also think that the decision seem stupid if you look at it from the perspective of "why the hell would I pay $6 to watch such little variety of content?" and that's a Correct Assumption, but Observe — they have been very slowly pulling everyone that made Buzzfeed famous and enrolling them in. Very recently they gathered the Worth It boys, the second show that kind of carried Buzzfeed back in the day (apart from the Try Guys). I think they can't talk about it right now, but the goal is to relaunch Buzzfeed but without ads and without making it the soulless content machine it became. I think their dream and goal has always been making what Buzzfeed could have been with better management, kind of like "If I was the Management in this company, things would have been better" dream fulfillment. That's why they made the direct jump to a streaming service instead of the logical steps of Patreon-exclusive content or even jumping to Nebula like other youtubers. It was never meant to stay one single channel, it was supposed to be bigger.

Is the projection of making a "better Buzzfeed" worth risking this step? Time will tell. I don't know. I personally never cared about anyone except Buzzfeed Unsolved. I still watch Unsolved on repeat. Is my comfort show. Maybe they are overestimating how much people care about other shows not hosted by them.

Although they did hint that "we want shows not hosted by us". This tells me that they are settling down, they want to ramp down a little bit, do the hook with Ghost Files aka Unsolved Supernatural Lite for the streaming service, and once people are hooked, launch more shows by the old-school Buzzfeed people. Won't be as big as a show hosted by Shane and Ryan, but it will still make people feel like they are getting their money's worth.

I would forgive all of this if only they didn't use the excuse of "if we want to do Netflix-level productions we need money". I'm sorry but that means nothing to me. We loved them when it was a powerpoint slide show with 2 idiots in a set. We didn't fall in love with the toys or the trips or the high tech. We didn't fall in love with the fancy animations at the beginning of Ghost Files episodes that they are so proud of. That was all their idea.

I've seen this trend of content creators ramping up their creations to an unsustainable point, completely crash and burn and then having to apologize about having to step back. Then making it the moral trap of an argument that they have been doing their best to bring quality content to their audience, and of course making it impossible to argue against. If you speak up and say "well we never asked you to break your back" then you are ungrateful audience. That's exactly what's going on in here with the Watcher announcement — "true fans" criticizing people who point out the fact that they created this money problem on their own. Is not the fanbase responsibility to cater to a company's bad money decisions. Is not our fault that they decide to scale up their operation to a point they "haven't been making a profit for 2 years". It's unfair that the fans are at each other's throats for daring stepping back and saying "I don't want to be part of this".

I don't think Watcher Entertainment is actively wanting to collapse their fandom like this. I don't think this was a calculated move. But I do think that they are a group of adults trying to make a career of something they enjoy doing. I think they made this move with the perspective that fandom is not end all and they can always rebuild it.

— And that they are planning on making a machine that can work without them, and that requires breaking something in the fans, it requires kicking themselves out of the pedestal fans have put them on. They know they won't be allowed to have a normal life until people stop looking at them waiting for them to say their phrase.

In conclusion I think they made a choice that made sense if they are planning on separating Watcher Entertainment from "The Ghoul Boys" fame, and it makes sense if they are aiming at something bigger than what they've been doing now. Money of course is the goal and the reason presented, but there's a lot that they are not saying and we will not know until it happens.

Until then, it does feel like they have just shot their careers in the foot.

Also I'm salty that I can't join the service because I'm outside the US.

[majicmarker]

without deep-diving into all the Things bc frankly i don’t think it matters and i’m on the verge of an emotional breakdown as it is… little bit increasingly overwhelmed by moolah happenings rn, so. offering free digital copies of my romcom books (full descriptions under the cut) to anyone who can donate smthn, just shoot me a DM!

(i am very aware that there are lots of other happenings around the world at present more deserving of donations. i’m just kinda outta carrots here, and here we are.)

ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪʙᴇ? : an adult store comedy/romance

What’s love at first sight without a little crisis of sexual identity?

Milo Lamoree is livin’ the glamorous life of a sex shop sales rep, forever explaining to grown adults what they should and should not be sticking inside of themselves and/or others. He’s not doing any sticking himself—his demisexuality hasn’t exactly enticed any “hot young singles in your area.” But considering his clientele’s whackadoo misconceptions about anatomy, etc., it’s not like Milo has the leftover energy to fall in love, anyway.

…Well, too bad.

Stevie Hart has heard it said that being bisexual means you have more options, meanwhile she has experienced that not at all. Her love life is all unsolicited—ahem—pics (you know the ones) and straight couples looking for an experimental third. No thanks. When you’re already managing your own debilitating agoraphobia, who has time to deal with whatever’s going on with those people? Falling in love isn’t worth the mess.

…Until it is.

Along with their meddling mutual friends, Possibly The Worst Ex In The World, and a totally bangin’ soundtrack, Stevie and Milo hit every major identity crisis (sexual, spiritual, existential, you get it) on their way to finding each other—and themselves.

(And if they happen to also find the best title of an adult film while they’re at it? That’s just the rainbow sprinkles on top.)

𝙄𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧’𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙦𝙪𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙚-𝙤𝙛-𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙭 𝙩𝙤𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚/𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙧 𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨—𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙪𝙥.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴇx ᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅʏ : a millennial coming-of-age parody (lite)

Once upon the early 2000s…

Trixie Taylor is asexual—she just doesn’t know that’s an option. So imagine her consternation, when the deadline for the virginity pact she made in eighth grade is now upon her. It’s her last high school party, and the entire graduating class has heard that Trixie’s ready to swipe her V-card tonight.

So. No time to panic.

Ready or not, she’s got someone in mind to help her…

Riot Shane is every bit the loser virgin his friends roast him for being, and way more than his rebel reputation suggests (things would be different if he’d get his GED and a haircut, but oh well). When incurable crush Trixie Taylor asks for his help, Riot finds himself playing fake boyfriend, real bodyguard, and the house party’s errand boy. 

Welp. At least responsibility’s never looked as good as it does with his dream girl in the passenger seat.

Ready or not, the night’s only just begun…

[aerelin]

My name is Aero, I am a 24 year old genderfluid proshipper/self shipper (i am happy to share!). Very passionate about mental health and LGBTQIA+ rights and support. I draw sometimes - I may post what I draw here sometimes and I MAY write though! We will see. Fandom Info and reblogged content to expect can be found after the read-more.

NOTE: IF I INTERACT and you are an anti/have proship in your DNI pinned post, i apologise /gen i am blind at times. I promise its never intentional.

Here are the fandoms I am in:

- Homestuck

- The Elder Scrolls (mainly 4 and 5)

- (F/Os include Dirk Strider 🧡, Dave Strider, Zebruh Codakk, Cronus Ampora, among others)

- Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

- (F/Os include Adam 🧡 and Blitzø)

- (F/Os include Cicero, Lucien LaChance, Martin Septim, Brynjolf, Ondolemar, Serana)

- Fallout (3, New Vegas and 4)

- (F/Os include Butch DeLoria, Charon, Arcade Gannon, Yes Man, Vulpes Inculta (sometimes.), Robert Joseph MacCready, John Hancock, Danse, Deacon, Nick Valentine, Curie, Travis Miles)

- Osomatsu-san

- (F/O is Karamatsu Matsuno)

- Stardew Valley

- (F/O is Shane)

- POSTAL

- (F/O is the Postal Dude) 🧡

- Boku No Hero Academia

(F/Os include Tomura Shigaraki, Toshinori Yagi, Shuichi Iguchi, Dabi (sometimes.))

Dub-con

Big mains indicated by uhh an orange heart emoji why not.

I also will reblog and talk about the following content:

Yandere content

Possible/lite to medium gore/violence

CGL content

NSF-W content

Self Ship content and general fanart of the above.

Very quick note however. Yes, i am proship. no, i am not into children or Certain art of children. i am not proship as in "problematic shipping" i am proship as in "i am for shipping freedom".

if you have issues with proship content or proshippers in general i will avoid you should you state as much in your status or anywhere obvious. Otherwise, i ask that you avoid Me or even block me instead of interacting. save us both the mental stress please.

[katmajik]

📺 tv & movie name-drops from ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴇx ᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅʏ : a millennial coming-of-age parody (lite)

[…] “Well, fuck me, maybe I was harboring some hope that this was all an elaborate scheme to get my attention.” He winks at her. “Like 10 Things I Hate About You. You’re learning French for me, that sorta thing.”

“I can barely read in English, and you think I’d learn French? I’d rather just ask you out.”

“It’s only true love if you gotta scheme to get it. Christ, Trixie Stix,” he mutters into another swig, “watch a fuckin’ movie.”

She pokes his side. He snorts soda up his nose.

(book description under the cut)

ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ 2000ꜱ…

Trixie Taylor is asexual—she just doesn’t know that’s an option. So imagine her consternation, when the deadline for the virginity pact she made in eighth grade is now upon her. It’s her last high school party, and the entire graduating class has heard that Trixie’s ready to swipe her V-card tonight.

So. No time to panic.

Ready or not, she’s got someone in mind to help her…

Riot Shane is every bit the loser virgin his friends roast him for being, and way more than his rebel reputation suggests (things would be different if he’d get his GED and a haircut, but oh well). When incurable crush Trixie Taylor asks for his help, Riot finds himself playing fake boyfriend, real bodyguard, and the house party’s errand boy. 

Welp. At least responsibility’s never looked as good as it does with his dream girl in the passenger seat.

Ready or not, the night’s only just begun…

[lostvulpes]

Shane Lite Slightly from Peter Pan

GENERAL

Full Name: Shane Lite

Nicknames: Slightly, Fox

Age: 30

Gender: Cis male

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Date of Birth: November 30, 1993

Place of Birth: Godscobh, New Hampshire

Occupation: Drug dealer, second in command of the Lost Boys

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Avan Jogia

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color/Style: Dark brown and wavy, falls somewhere between his ears and chin

Physique: Lean, but not overly muscled

Height: 6'1"

Style: I don't know how to describe other than 'eclectic punk'? if that makes any sense lol

Tattoos/Piercings: One ear pierced, numerous tattoos across his arms

PERSONALITY

Positive Traits: confident, witty, charismatic, easygoing, loyal, adaptable

Negative Traits: deceptive, selfish, rebellious, bitter, impatient, goading

Astrological Placements: Sagittarius sun, Gemini moon, Aries rising

MBTI: ENTP

Interests: card games, racing his motorcycle, 2000s punk rock music, party rocking, trespassing urban exploring, cryptozoology and conspiracy theories, slasher films, recreational drug use, foxes (he just thinks they're neat)

Dislikes: overly sweet food and drinks, the suburbs, early mornings, clowns, almond scented candles, country music, modern art museums, cops duh

BIOGRAPHY

It’s easy to forget that Shane is the right hand to one of Godscobh’s most ruthless gang leaders. With his relaxed disposition, perpetual smile, and proclivity for partying, he hardly fits the part of a hardened criminal. The persona Shane has cultivated is a role he plays to perfection, distancing himself in the public eye from both the Lost Boys and the image of the angry foster kid he was when Pan first found him. Shane bounced around foster homes for much of his youth. He remembers his father only as a terrifying shadow that looms over his earliest memories. A man the young boy barely knew before he landed himself in prison. His mother, on the other hand, was a kind woman who battled with addiction as a means of coping with Shane’s father and struggling to make ends meet — at least that’s how he likes to remember her. It wasn’t long after her husband’s conviction that she ended up in a rehab facility herself and Shane, only seven years old, was placed in his first foster home. To say he didn’t adjust well would be an understatement. Shane lashed out anyone and everyone, adamantly claiming that his mother would come get him soon. Anything to push down the feeling that he’d been abandoned. It was an attitude he maintained no matter how often her promise to take him home amounted to nothing. No matter how many times she failed to show up at all. Shane got himself kicked out of a dozen different homes over the years as his hopes were repeatedly raised and then promptly dashed. It was a vicious cycle that only ended when he learned that if he wanted to visit his mother again, it would be at the burial grounds of Our Lady of Immaculate. That’s when Pan entered his life. Peter saw potential in Shane and offered him a hand when no one else would. By the time they aged out of the foster system together, Shane was practically a different person entirely. Charismatic and cunning where he had once been angry and aimless. Being a Lost Boy has given his life purpose and family — for that, his loyalty to Peter is unwavering.

INSPIRATION

Hermes — Epic the Musical and Lore Olympus variants || Jesper Fahey — Six of Crows || Mercutio — Romeo and Juliet || Dick Grayson — DC Comics || Sokka — Avatar: The Last Airbender || Sirius Black — Marauders fandom specifically || Alucard Emery — Shades of Magic || Felix — Once Upon a Time || Fred + George Weasley — Harry Potter || Izumo Kusanagi — K Project

[thefreakydeaky]

You're No Good (Part 6)

Negan Smith x Reader

Various TWD Characters x Reader

Modern au

Summary: Your husband came up with a way to keep you away from trouble but trouble just won't stay away from you.

Warnings: diet dr. angst, fluff, smut-lite

You tried not to fixate on getting Negan to talk about the Shane thing. If he wasn't ready then it wasn't fair of you to push him. The horrible moment played in your mind again and again however and you had to live everyday knowing you were the reason Negan was so hurt. Your husband had been trying to act as though everything was back to normal, but his smile was half hearted and he was less talkitive than usual.

One morning, as you were stewing over the situation you received a text from Rick Grimes. It was an invitation for coffee. You perked up in an instant. It was just the distraction you needed. You showered and changed into a black pair of shorts and a pink striped shirt. You added champagne colored earrings and a pair of tan sandles and you were ready.

The apartment complex you arrived at was new and upperscale than any you had been to before. The roofs of the buildings had terracota shingles on them and the outer walls seemed freshly painted. The pool was large and looked clean. You parked in an unmarked spot and made your way to the building Rick's text message had directed you to.

You stood waiting outside his door for a few minutes before he opened.

"Hi, How are you?" He said in greeting before he pulled you in for a hug.

"Hey," You replied nervously. "Thank you for inviting me over."

Rick stepped back and let you in.

"Did you have any trouble finding the place?" He gestured toward the round glass topped kitchen table.

You took a seat.

"Not at all. You gave great directions."

He had a coffee station off to the side of the kitchen. Picking up two k cups, he brought them over to you.

"I've got salted caramel mocha and regular."

You picked the caramel option.

"So, how're things?"

You tried to contain the sigh that wanted to be released.

"Things are...going fine. Really." You lied.

"Mhmm..." He grabbed a mug and placed it under the spout. "I think, you're forgettin' that even if we were only together for a short time, I got to know you pretty well."

"You don't want to hear about it. Trust me." You said morosley.

He shook his head.

"If you don't wanna talk about it, I'll understand, but something's tellin' me you do."

You let out a sigh.

"Okay, but please try to keep an open mind." You prefaced. Then you started at the beginning telling him how sleeping with him had effected your relationship with Negan. You told him about Negan being unable to shake the idea that you would be unfaithful again and how it was Negan's idea and solution that you have an open relationship.

Rick listened as he served the coffee and sat across from you. You couldn't tell if he was judging you or not from his facial expression.

You told him about Shane. How you had ended up meeting him at the hotel and how he'd been angry when he found out you were married. You described the scene Shane had created at The Tap and How Negan had been off ever since.

"That's, damn. I never would have thought Negan would go for something like that."

"I didn't either." You sighed.

"I'm surprised he didn't react to the things that guy said to him."

"I was too, honestly." You took a sip of the coffee he had made you. "But it might be because he's been with other people too and it's not exactly the same thing, but twice now I've been contacted by women he's slept with. They think he's seeing them behind my back."

Rick took your hand in his.

"That can't be easy to deal with."

"It's not, but it's what I agreed to." You looked down at your manicured nails on the glass table top.

"I'm so sorry that you have to go through that."

"Thank you for saying so." You squeezed his hand.

You spoke of many things. He told you about Carl and what he was up to. He told you about the divorce and how horrible it had been. He told you about his job now, he was on the city counsel. You shared with him how you had come to hate working in the history museum, the politics involved in the job and how when Negan had gotten a promotion at work he then made more than enough to make up for your paycheck and so you had resigned.

Before you knew it you had been there two hours. It seemed inpolite to stay any longer. You made your excuses and got ready to go.

Rick went to the door, unlocked and opened it for you.

"It was great seeing you again." He moved forward as if to hug you, but you found yourselves lip to lip instead.

You both chuckled at the accident. When he leaned in next, his hand cupped your jaw and he kissed you with intent. His mouth moved in sync with yours. His tongue slipped passed your lips and into your mouth. The two met and caressed. Then you gently broke apart.

"I'd like to get together again. If you want to?" He posed.

"Yes, I would like to." You agreed.

You thought about the kiss you shared with Rick for the next two weeks. You weren't usually like this, but when it came to Rick Grimes you were infatuated. The kind of infatuation you hadn't experienced since high school. You texted him asking when you could see him again and made a date for the following week.

This time, meer seconds after he opened the door, he guided your body to him, his arm around your middle. You went into his arms, waiting breathlessly for his kiss.

It was like a dream, you mused on your way home. He was intuitive, he knew what you wanted before you could ask for it. His touch was gentle. He had fucked you slowly, sensuously. With one leg hiked high, your ankle by his ear he had thrust passed your wet lips and into your vagina.

His thick cock had you stretching around him. His hand was at your breast, fingers strumming your nipple. Your hands were all over his chest, feeling him, clawing at him when he hit a particular sweet spot inside of you. The sounds his love making had pulled from your throat were a testimony to the pleasure you experienced.

When you lay in each others arms, he told you how much he loved hearing you moan. You gently kissed the pink lines you had left on his shoulders and pecs. There was an exciting chemistry between you different than you felt with any of the other lovers you had taken.You enjoyed being in the warm afterglow so much you almost lingered too long.

[puppet-purgatory]

Greetings One & All, and welcome 2 my fuckhouse. I'm the mod & sole proprietor, you can call me Al :) ! thanks for visiting, here's some info for u:

this blog is for the watcher entertainment series 'puppet history' ! other watcher content may be posted, but will be kept Lite in comparison. im really and honestly here for the puppets

i've been thinking about this show, its characters, and its lore nonstop since 2021, please help! or at least smile and nod

asks for, to, about, and Regarding any FICTIONAL character from the show are always welcome! I am not going to be creating much content focusing on the Real People on the show. because they are Real People. you'll see an occasional shane or ryan but this is not an ask/art blog For them<3

i'll occasionally do little storylines for the puppets in purgatory as they bide their time awaiting their eternal fate. you can read about em Here!

my goal here is to make you smile, make you laugh, maybe make you think a bit! if you learn something that’s an added bonus!

my art not always great but my HEART........... big :)

this is a sideblog, n I follow/reply from @tatsugiriroll

more in-depth stuff can be found Here

on weekends we post #deathgod. you Will look at it

[skyblueartt]

Omg you like sdv???? me too!!! What's your favourite npc?? (if you have one)

HI I saw this days ago and I thought I responded ahhhh!

I haven’t played in awhile- but I love the game! I first played on my family’s switch in like, 2018, and married Haley heheh but I was actually gifted my own Switch Lite when I moved away for college and started a new save on there :) BUT tbh I wanna start yet another new game, because my dumbass chose the beach farm (because I love the ocean) not knowing that apparently you can’t use sprinklers and stuff like that on the beach farm😭 but it’s okay!

ANYWAYYYSS to answer your question, hmmmmmmmmmmmm. I’m honestly not sure! I feel like Abigail is such a basic answer but I truly adore her. I love a purple haired girl <3 Haley is cool too, mainly because I think fictional “mean” girls are very fun. I like Shane quite a bit actually, I’ve seen some awesome fanart of him and he seems to be a fan favorite. Ahh I love that little fuckin shadow monster guy (Krobus??), love himmm!!

ANYWAYS now I gotta play again! Been struggling a bit mentally but stardew valley is like free serotonin I swear. I couldn’t put that game down in 2018 😭 might make some fanart tbh!!

[elizaviento]

Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine (Part 1 of ?)

(Stardew Valley — Shane x Female Farmer/OC)

Notes: This is my first attempt at Stardew fic. Shane is my beloved and I want so much to do him proper justice. Please enjoy.

P.S. Stardew Valley is a lovely game with rich lore. However, I'm using it as a framework for this tale. Sticking strictly to game canon just isn't possible, but I shall sprinkle in various Easter eggs along the way.

Summary: Stardew Valley beckoned Kristen Wynand. The mountains, the ridges, the cliffs, the beaches. A simple existence — a soothing balm to blur the myriad of mistakes etched upon her soul. A place to slow down, reflect, take pride in something other than a corner office with a view of concrete pillars piercing the horizon. A place to finally belong without the pressure of perfection and the expectation of more, more, more.

Shane Davis despised the Valley. Because the Valley despised him. Work, sleep, drink — such was life for a man thrust into the responsibility of fatherhood completely unprepared. He'd learned long ago that trust was fragile, shattered far too easily. If kindness was considered weakness, he was indestructible.

Amid the monotony of small town life, the two forge an unlikely friendship. But is friendship all they desire?

This chapter is rated NSFW lite — 2942 words. Mentions of animal death, blood, and injury.

*****

It was 5:32 pm on a random Wednesday during the dead of summer when Shane pulled open the door of the Stardrop Saloon, his feet propelling him toward the same spot he'd frequented for the last three years. The path from the Joja Mart to that exact spot at the end of the bar was well-worn, and each step was etched in his muscle memory, not unlike riding a bike.

"Hi, Shane!"

Emily's bubbly demeanor instantly assaulted him, and he weakly threw a hand up in greeting, as usual. The routine was comfortable.

Taking a cursory glance at his surroundings, he noticed one extra body hunched over the bar directly in front of the cash register. At the far left, Pam tipped her half-empty mug toward him, color already rising in her cheeks, before she shrugged, just as shocked to see this early patron as he was.

Annoyingly, worry settled in his gut as he narrowed his eyes at the filthy woman before him and forced his legs to take a slight detour from their intended destination.

"What are you doing here," he asked lightheartedly, taking a seat next to the farmer. The perspective from this area of the bar seemed somewhat warped, and he felt oddly vulnerable with his back facing the door.

"One of my hens died," she replied, voice thick and raspy. It was only then that Shane noticed a ting of pink coated under and around her fingernails, mixed with the dark hue of what he assumed to be soil.

"What?"

He'd heard exactly what she'd said, but his brain struggled to catch up as the aroma of sweat filtered through his nostrils. Thick and cloying but not unpleasant.

"The peppers were ready to harvest, so I was late checking on them. I made it over to the coop after noon, but I could hear them clucking and scratching. It felt… off ."

Shane already knew the ending before she exhaled a shaky breath in pause. The white-knuckled grip she had on the mug in her calloused hands made him anxious for some reason as if it would shatter in her palms.

"All I found was a pile of blood-soaked feathers toward the far end of the enclosure. I don't know what happened, Shane. I thought I'd counted them all before I shut the coop door for the night."

It was a fox, of course. He'd witnessed the same scenario at least twice on the ranch.

"Hole in the fence?" he asked, staring awkwardly at his own hands. Several weeks prior, he'd pointed out a weak spot when he'd been by the farm to drop off some extra fodder at Marnie's request.

"Yes."

Her reply came out as an exaggerated hiss, and he could practically taste its venom. He knew better than to casually toss an 'I told you so' at a moment like this, even if it sat at the tip of his tongue like a well-rehearsed mantra.

Behind the bar, Emily feigned busyness, but Shane knew her ears were well in tune with the conversation. Gus had strolled in from the back just in time to catch Shane's stern eye and furrowed his brow in question. Tactful and discreet, Emily swiftly pulled the chef aside and whispered to him earnestly.

"It was Sassy," the farmer spoke up again, swiping a grimy finger across her already dirt-caked face, leaving a moist streak in its wake.

"Oh."

Shane wasn't exactly at a loss for words. He had plenty threatening to spew from his chest like sour vomit. His first instinct was to berate her for being so careless. The subsequent was to ask if she'd bothered to repair the breach in the fence before she came to the Saloon to sulk. But he held back, knowing these reactionary responses would earn him a swift slap to the face. He didn't even want to be an asshole, but old habits die hard, and the phrase 'defense mechanism' buzzed brightly in his mind's eye like an antique neon sign — a handy revelation from his therapist.

"Sassafras was the first chick I got from Marine that first Spring, remember?"

Of course, he remembered, but he only nodded in response. In his peripheral vision, Gus had fired up the grill and tossed a 12-ounce sirloin on the sizzling surface. Pops and cracks of searing flesh and fat became the backdrop to sparse sniffles from the woeful farmer.

"You waved at me from the counter when I was in the kitchen, and I flipped you off."

"Ah, the good old days," the farmer quipped, her sudden shift from weepy to snickering catching Shane off guard.

Over two years had passed since that day. It wasn't the first time they'd interacted, but it was among several that Shane regretted the most. Initially, his interest in Pelican Town's newest inhabitant was zero. Even with the buzz of gossip surrounding her arrival, he couldn't be bothered, and he was even less impressed when he'd finally laid eyes on her. Cute — yes. He'd begrudgingly admitted that to himself, but otherwise, she was entirely unremarkable, just like everyone else.

She'll fit right in , he'd thought as he scowled over the rim of his rapidly emptying mug of ale the first time she'd entered the Stardrop on a Friday night carrying a basket of fresh vegetables. He'd been right.

"Hey there, Krissy," Gus said, pulling Shane from his brooding memories. The farmer shifted her pitiful gaze toward Gus' smiling face as he held out a styrofoam to-go box toward her. "Made your favorite. Medium rare."

"Gus, I didn't order —"

"Hush now," the chef retorted. "It's on the house. Consider it a little kickback for all the top-quality produce you've supplied." The man's mustached smile grew wider as the farmer took the to-go box from his large hands and thanked him.

"I think you might know me too well," she supplied as she rose from the wobbly stool in preparation to depart. Several of the town's residents had begun to filter in through the front door, and the clamor of chatter slowly filled the atmosphere of the Saloon. Wednesdays were never known to be busy, but the few regulars would puzzle over the farmer's disheveled state in the form of not-so-subtle whispers and sidelong glances.

"Go on," Gus replied, playfully shooing her away. "We'll see you on Friday night, as usual."

Emily was already bustling around the occupied tables, taking orders from Willy and Clint before crossing the room to take care of Leah. As she passed, she placed a reassuring hand on the farmer's shoulder and smiled.

Unconsciously, Shane turned on his own worn stool, his eyes following Kristen as she grinned back at the blue-haired waitress, the weariness already lifting and the worry lines in her forehead smoothing in turn. Catching his gaze briefly, she mumbled, "See ya, Shane." And then she was gone.

❦❧🍓❦❧

Sweat-soaked strands of auburn hair plastered themselves to the farmer's neck and forehead as she struggled with the rusted wire cutters. She'd gotten up at 5 am — an hour earlier than usual — to avoid such sweltering heat. She should have known better.

Glancing at her watch, she cursed under her breath. It was just shy of 7 am, and she knew Shane would be leaving the ranch soon to make it to his shift on time. The urge to call him was overwhelming, but her pride burned hotter, flushing up from her chest when she recalled his expression at the Saloon the previous day. It must have taken every ounce of willpower to keep his mouth shut after confessing to her stupidity. She wasn't sure what she'd expected at the time. An ounce of sympathy? A tiny scrap of comfort from a friend?

He told you to repair the fence weeks ago. This is your own damn fault.

Plump tears of self-pity and mourning for her beloved hen welled behind her eyes and rolled down her sunburnt cheeks at the first blink. There was no use attempting to hold them back. She'd lost the will to fight them long ago.

Instead, she transferred the wire cutters to the opposite hand, flexing her right to work out the kinks. She'd placed an order for hardwood fencing with Robin over the phone the day prior before she began her walk of shame to the Saloon. In the meantime, chicken wire would have to suffice.

Crouching low, she balanced on her haunches as she molded the wire around the hole, snipping along the edges awkwardly with her non-dominant hand. The steadily rising sun kissed the dew-covered grass, sparkling across the droplets like brilliant diamonds. The sight would have been serene to witness while sipping a cup of black coffee on her front porch. But now, it only obscured her vision further as a bead of salty sweat rolled from her scalp and stung her swollen eyes.

The subsequent chain of events remained hazy in the farmer's memory when she was asked about them, even years later. What she could recall, with some semblance of clarity, was squinting against blinding rays just as her sweat-slicked palm slid down the grip of the wire cutters, shoving the business end directly into the center of the palm of her opposite hand. Her bottom made contact with the ground next as she lost balance, sprawling comically across the dirt like a top-heavy toddler.

The pain didn't register for quite a while. Instead, pressure and overwhelming nausea flooded her senses as her breaths came in short, rapid gasps, and her vision wavered. Sweat continued to sting her eyes as she mentally processed the situation in a matter of seconds.

Something's wrong. Look at it. Look.

NO DON'T NO NO —

Her chest heaved, and she involuntarily flexed her right hand. More pressure, and her stomach rolled violently, causing her to retch. What felt like hours passed as unadulterated panic seized the farmer, her mind frantically screaming for her to take action while she stared directly at a wisp of cloud floating lazily by on the lightest of breezes. Cold sweat coated every inch of her body, causing her to shiver as shock began to sit in. 

Eventually, the swimmy sensation faded enough for her to turn her head to the side. The motion was sloppy as if she were 4 glasses deep into a bottle of aged strawberry wine, and her cheek made contact with the warm dirt below. Gritty, it smelled like pure earth as her breath fanned the fine particles across her outstretched shoulder where it clung.

The hilt of the wire cutters was tilted at an angle, jutting awkwardly from her palm. She flexed her right hand again, and they jumped, the snipping end scraping jaggedly through the inner meat of her palm. This time, she retched and vomited, the sick pooling near her head as she coughed and gasped, her body once again betraying her.

Your phone's in your pocket. Call someone. Call anyone.

Self-preservation is a powerful thing. The farmer recalled the story of a teenager who had survived a plane crash and practically crawled her way through the jungle with a festering leg. Yet here she was, with technology at her fingertips — a literal lifeline to summon help — and she was too busy barfing over the sight of her injured hand.

You wore overalls today. The pocket is loose. Just reach in with your left hand and grab it.

It took a few deep, measured breaths to wrangle the nausea long enough to will herself to move, and even then, it felt as if she were wading through viscous sludge. The effort was intense and maddening, and the pain that had, so far, remained at bay thanks to a heady dose of adrenaline began to lick at her nerve endings like tiny fork-tongued demons straight from the depths of hell.

A strangled moan escaped her lips as her fingers closed around the smooth rectangle stuffed deep in her pocket. The sun continued to rise, unforgiving rays showering her face and blinding her once again as she turned it back toward the shy.

You're being dramatic. It can't be that bad.

That was probably true, but it wasn't the wound that sent a chill down her spine and panic to constrict her throat as if she'd swallowed a handful of bees. It was the blood. The looming threat of it clouded her senses and coated her tongue in ash. As soon as the tool was removed from her palm, all hell would break loose. 

Trembling, the farmer hovered the cell phone in front of her face, blocking the sun enough for her pupils to adjust. Facial recognition unlocked the device, and she shakily tapped the phone icon, followed by the most recent number in her call history.

"Hello?" a gruff voice asked after several static-laden rings. It sounded small and miles away, and the farmer flushed as she fumbled to put the call on speaker.

"Shane —" Her voice came out as a raspy croak, and she coughed once, spittle speckling across the contact photo — an adorably round hen in mid-stride.

"What is it, Kriss?" His tone was clipped and soaked with annoyance. She had the urge to laugh, as she always did when his frustration with her was evident. "I'm running late for work. Jas turned my alarm off because she wanted me to take her to the park instead."

This time she did laugh, dry and breathy. And, for a split second, she considered lying. The last thing she wanted was to place another burden on this man's already sagging shoulders. 

"Yeah, yeah. Ha, ha," Shane mocked. He sounded slightly winded, and the farmer wondered if he'd actually been running before he answered her call. "You sound funny. What's wrong?"

Something clutched her heart just then and twisted her stomach into a knot. Coupled with the nausea, it caused her to sigh deeply and cough again, dry and fruitless. Briefly, she recalled the days when she hardly knew this man. His exoskeleton so rough and impenetrable, disdain coloring every expression he gave her when she dared to approach him. Now, though, he could tell just by her voice that something was amiss. 

"I need help," she finally relented. "Can you stop by the clinic on your way to Joja and ask Harvey to come to the farm?"

"What — why?" He sounded concerned now, and the knot twisted tighter in her belly. It stole her breath, and she closed her eyes for a moment, composing herself. "Kriss, what the hell?"

"Sorry," she replied, turning her face to take another look at the rusted tool protruding from her right palm. "I don't want to make you late. Maybe you can just call Harvey instead?"

"Why the fuck are you like this?" he asked. "Just tell me what's wrong."

Again, she laughed. The absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on her. She wasn't a teenage girl crawling through a dense jungle in search of rescue after a plane crash. She was a grown woman, too afraid to inconvenience those around her. Even the thought of asking Harvey to travel all the way to the farm made her cringe.

"I stabbed myself in the hand with wire cutters. It's — I think I need stitches or something."

The effort to keep her tone nonchalant was immense. Openly admitting to another moronic act in less than 24 hours was nothing short of humiliating.

"Fuck me," Shane groaned. His breathing had suddenly sped up, and she could faintly hear the soles of his shoes thumping pavement. He'd made it to the town square. "Okay, just… I dunno, wrap it up as best you can."

"Yeah, sure," she said, forcing herself upright. The tool jostled with her movements, and she doubled over to prevent a fresh wave of vomit. 

"I'm almost at the clinic now, but I gotta call Morris."

"Shane, no —"

But he cut off her pathetic attempt to protest with, "Shut up. We'll be there soon."

Three beeps blared from the speaker, signifying he'd ended the call. She stared blankly at the phone's screen for several seconds, her mind performing a hard reboot in preparation for what would come next.

❦❧🍓❦❧

The rash decision of yanking the wire cutters from the meat of her palm before she'd reached the farmhouse was the third moronic thing Kristen had done in such a short snippet of time. She wasn't sure why she felt the need to torture herself, but the fleeting glimpse of a pearly white strand embedded within the wound left her breathless. Less than a second later, blood welled and pooled into her palm, obscuring it from her view forever, but not nearly enough for the screeching in her mind to reach a devastating crescendo.

Fat droplets of crimson dripped down her forearm, slicing through the grime like an errant river. More fell to the dirt with nearly audible plops , leaving a macabre trail for Shane and Harvey to come upon later.

Studying the human body's inner workings in an academic setting was child's play compared to laying eyes on one's own tendon, no matter how brief. That sight — stark and bright in contrast with the muddy hue of mangled flesh surrounding it — would haunt her periodically throughout life, making her shiver in disgust. But now, it only served to spike the panic she'd held at bay to an unsustainable degree, smudging her vision around the edges like charcoal on construction paper.

The farmhouse's front porch came into view, along with the silhouette of her mangy cat — a blessed oasis she shuffled toward before it was swallowed whole by the gaping maw of oblivion.

*****

Feedback is always appreciated. Although I'm well versed in writing fic, I always feel apprehensive when diving into a new fandom. ♥️

[calypsonightingale]

A Complied List of My Stardew Valley Mods

I’ve recently gotten back into playing Stardew on both my switch and my laptop and it’s so fun! So I thought I’d give a complete list of all the current mods I use in my gameplay <3

Note: These are PC mods. It’s not possible to mod on the switch port and only a few are compatible with android, but none are apple compatible.

Smapi is not included in this list, but is 100% required! These mods will not work without it!

𝓯𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴 𝓶𝓸𝓭𝓼 💻

Content Patcher

Content Patcher Animations

Custom NPC Exclusions

Expanded Preconditions Utility

Extra Map Layers

Farm Type Manager (FTM)

Json Assets

SAAT - Audio API and Toolkit

Shop Tile Framework

SpaceCore

NPC Adventures

Event Repeater

Generic Mod Config Menu

Joja Cola Restock

AtraCore

Alternative Textures

DaisyNiko’s TileSheets

Lumisteria Tilesheets (Indoor and Outdoor)

Artisanal Soda Makers

The Grampleton Maker’s Market

Anti-Social NPCs

Better Artisan Good Icons

BugNet

Bush Bloom Mod

PyTK Lite

Champagne Wishes

Child to NPC

Custom Companions

Custom Fixed Dialogue

Custom Furniture

Custom Gift Dialogue

Custom Kissing Mod

Custom Music

Custom NPC Exclusions

Custom NPC Fixes

Destroyable Bushes

Fizzy Drinks

Ginger Island Mainland Adjustments

GNM Tokens

Help For Hire

Happy Birthday Content Pack

Huckleberry Season

Mail Framework Mod

More Mead

More Grass

Multi Yield Crops

Producer Framework Mod

Quest Framework Mod

Shop Tile Framework

Show Birthdays

Sprites in Detail

Stardew Hack

Stardust Core

TMX Loader

Dwarf Expansion

Boarding House

𝓔𝔁𝓹𝓪𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓼 🪴

Stardew Valley Expanded

Ridgeside Village

East Scarp

Love Festival

Emyn’s Pride March

Emyn’s Queer Dialogue Expansion

Canon-Friendly Dialogue Expansion

Emyn’s Diverse Ginger Island

Immersive Festival Dialogue

𝓟𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓽 𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓼 ☀️

Seasonal Diverse Stardew Valley

Diverse Stardew Valley Expanded

Ridgeside Village Seasonal Outfits

East Scarp Seasonal Outfits

𝓐𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓼 🩷

Stardew Foliage Redone

DaisyNiko’s Earthy Recolor

Way Back Pelican Town

Mushroom Mailbox

Idalda’s Gothic Buildings

Idalda’s Furniture Recolor

Idalda’s Craftables

Idalda’s Flooring and Paths

Idalda’s Wallpapers and Floors

Idalda’s Witchy Scarecrows

Aesthetic Garbage

Seasonal Bouquets

Cute / Seasonal Crab Pots

Seasonal Fences

Custom Menu Background

Elle’s Cat Replacements

Elle’s Dog Replacements

Elle’s New Barn Animals

Elle’s New Coop Animals

Elle’s New Horses

Elle’s Town Animals

Hot Spring Farm Cave

Industrial Furniture Set

Industrial Kitchen and Interior

Kelly’s Flower Dance Attire

Lavender Dreams UI Recolor

Rustic Country Town Interior

Seasonal Floral Bus

Seasonal Garden Farmhouse V2

Skell’s Flowery Tools

Skell’s Flowery Weapons

Replacements for Artifacts

Wildflower Grass Field

Calendar Anniversary

Mi and Magimatica Country Furniture

Warm Cozy Fireplace

Winter Grass

𝓝𝓟𝓒 𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓼 🌙

Always Raining in the Valley

Shiko

Juna

Leilani

Jade

Juliet & Jessie

Nonbinary They/Them Maddie

Aspen

Isla

Professor Jasper Thomas

Riley

𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓼 🌈

UI Info Suite 2

NPC Map Locations

Look Up Anything

Gift Taste Helper

Chests Anywhere

Tractor Mod

Better Ranching

Birthday Mod

Ellie’s Ideal Greenhouse

The Love of Cooking

Robin Sells Hardwood

More Rings

Immersive Spouses

Immersive Family

Mail Services Mod

Part of the Community

Yet Another Harvest With Scythe Mod

Capstone Professions

Please Remember My Birthday

Please Remember My Marriage

Babies Take After Spouse

Colored Seeds

Customizable Baby and Children

Don’t Enable Pam

Gender Neutrality Mod

Gender-Neutral Ridgeside Village

Lumisteria Letters from Parents

Lumisteria Villagers React to Marriage

Shane’s New Job

Bigger Backpack

Child Age Up

Community Center Helper

Family Planning

Helpful Spouses

Personal Anvil

Running Late

Social Page Order Button

Town School Mod

Willy Has a Room

𝓡𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓼 💙

Ridgeside Rival Hearts — Sam and Alissa

Ridgeside Rival Hearts — Jeric and Alex

Date Night

Free Love

Romanceable Rasmodius / Rasmodia

Bolier’s Sam and Sebastian Rival Heart Events

Expanded Proposal Options

MissCoriel’s NPC Unique Courtship Response

Custom Spouse Nicknames

Hugs and Kisses

Platonic Partners and Friendships

Platonic Relationships

Pregnancy Role

𝓞𝓫𝓳𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓼 𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓼 🍒

Farmer to Florist

Kawaii Valley

Witchy Valley

Fresh Meat

Fantasy Crops

Artisan Valley

Even More Recipes

Mizu’s Flowers

Alex’s Frozen Treats

Pride Pastries

Chocolatier

Shaved Ice and Frozen Treats

Christmas Sweets

Fruits and Veggies

More Recipes

More Trees

Starbrew Valley

Khadija’s Recipe Shop

Animal Husbandry Mod

Bonster’s Fruit & Veggies

Bonster’s Trees

Winter Crops

Wildflour’s Faerie Garden

𝓒𝓾𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓶𝓲𝔃𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓜𝓸𝓭𝓼 🫶

Fashion Sense

Rural Outfitters

Asta Cute Rainy Season Outfit

Asta Slumber Party

Starkissed Skin Tones

Coii’s Hair Sets Pack

Coii’s Hats Pack

Hats Won’t Mess Up Hair

Idalda’s Shirts

Cozy Scarves

The Coquette Collection

Wabi’s Wardrobe

Witchy Rustic Looks

Seasonal Hats

Customize Wedding Attire

Paisley’s Bridal Boutique