#shane 4 heart event

[ursulanoodles]

Shane's Four Heart Event: A Drabble

The day after Shane spilled his guts to the farmer on the dock, he stayed in bed all day, staring up at his ceiling. He was never that forward or honest with anyone, so why had he opened up to them? He didn’t know them at all. Yet, for some reason, he trusted them. Maybe it was the way that they never gave up on him and kept saying hello and talking to him, even when he was a miserable piece of shit, or maybe it was because there was a possibility that they could be a kindred spirit— someone who understood where he was coming from. He didn’t know why they were in the valley, struggling to make ends meet in their grandfather’s shitty, rundown cabin, but something had obviously brought them to this secluded town in the middle of nowhere.

It would make perfect sense for him to continue to open up to them, but he couldn’t. In the days that followed, he distanced himself from them, even though every part of him was screaming and wanting to do the exact opposite. He couldn’t let them get involved in his bullshit, especially if they already had their own to deal with, and besides, they’d get sick of him eventually. Everyone did, and it never got any easier when they left. He was an unlovable, miserable man who hurt everyone who cared for him, and it was better if he didn’t pull another person into the middle of the disaster that was his life.

In the weeks that followed, he drank more than usual— he wanted to drown out the thoughts and feelings that were forming in the back of his mind. He couldn’t slip up like that again, so he resolved to close himself off. If the farmer stopped by Marnie’s, he’d stay in his room; if he spotted them in JojaMart, he’d hide in the back room; and if they showed up at the saloon, he’d hurry up and leave, even if he just got there.

On one such afternoon, he left the saloon early, his head a mess of busy thoughts. He wasn’t even there long enough to get a buzz before the farmer showed up. So, he went home, locked himself in his room, and drank until he couldn’t stand— until every fucking thought in his head was gone.

Finally, some peace and fucking quiet.

Imagine his surprise, then, when Marnie and the farmer burst into his room to find him lying face down in a pool of his own vomit, cans and bottles strewn about his dingy, messy room that he hadn’t had the energy to clean in weeks. He was so drunk he could barely lift his head, and the whole world spun beneath him, threatening to hurl him into the abyss. Marnie and the farmer were talking back and forth, but he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, and in that moment, he really didn’t give a fuck, he just wanted them to go away.

Seconds later, he was covered in ice-cold liquid that soaked his clothes and shocked him into wakefulness, and he lumbered to his feet, swaying back and forth. He shook his head, trying to clear his double vision, but gave up and stared off between the two of them, keeping his eyes as still as possible, lest he throw up on himself again— not that it would make much of a difference.

Marnie hurled words at him, chastising him like he was a lazy teenager, and he wanted to laugh in her face. He knew he was a pathetic sack of shit; he didn’t need her to tell him that.

“What’s your plan? Don’t you ever think about the future?” she cried, her voice threatening tears.

He didn’t. Not anymore. He’d lost everything, including his best friends. What was there to look forward to? He had a dead-end job in a microscopic town and was renting a room from his aunt, and his only “friend” was the woman who served him beer every night.

“Plan?” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head at her. “Hopefully, I won’t be around long enough to need a ‘plan’,” he said, framing the word with air quotes.

He hadn’t realized that Jas had let herself into the room, and his heart sank into his stomach when she ran, her wailing sobs echoing down the hallway. He called out after her, attempting to apologize, but his words dropped off, and he stumbled and sank back to the floor into an empty pit of despair and self-hatred.

Shane flinched when he felt a firm hand squeeze his shoulder, and he ashamedly realized the farmer had witnessed everything— his hopelessness, his self-destruction, and what he did to the people who loved him.

And yet, despite all of that, they stayed.

[hailtothepumpkinqueen]

in the co-op game I'm doing with a friend, I've already managed to get 4 hearts with Shane bc I gave him pizza on his birthday.

So I got his 2 Heart Event on his birthday, and then his 4 Heart Event literally the next day(and a letter from him in the mail lol).

Makes his comment about hoping he'd forget his birthday hit different :<

[anachronistic-falsehood]

guys guys guys. fit is live playing sdv. listen ok listen. if he gets shane's 4 heart cutscene i need u to tell me immediately. alright. u gotta

[detective-piplup]

I really need to draw my farmer Luke at some point bc he has really good shitpost potential

[mongoosingisme]

Okay, hear me out, I'm sure this has probably been done a lot but, it's the 1st year of the flower dance and fem!farmer wooed shane up to 8 hearts. Farmer attends the festival in the proper attire (a pretty white dress and heels) and seeing shane all dressed up makes her all hot and flustered. She obviously asks Shane to dance and he begrudgingly agrees, but they instead sneak off into the forest for a little bit of "fun" instead. Protection? It wasn't planned soooo....oops. Pull out game? Weak. 🫣 They return to the festival afterwards for some sly comments from the others.

HELLO FRIEND!

I've tried to write this several different times, and then I got angst-pilled and wrote some other stuff and it all came together.

So... yes. A continuation of the couple other Shane fills I posted this week (here and here). Had to massage the ask a little bit (picturing it as being between 4 and 6 heart events), and it came out probably a little more dark/angsty than such a lighthearted ask would probably warrant so... uh, yeah.

(seriously, though, reach out if you want me to take another swing that isn't connected to other stuff and is maybe a little more light and bright).

Gonna be one more in this series that'll wrap it up.

Okay! No more housekeeping!

Title: (still don't know what to call these things - doc was named "Shane dance req")

Pairing: Shane x fem!farmer

Word Count: 4170

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only, if you would be so kind

Tags and fic under the cut!

Tags: Shane real real sad, alcoholism/depression stuff, blow jobs, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, super weak pullout game, not great examples of communication

When Shane was a kid Marnie had this dog. Ugly fucking thing, all drool and rough fur and this shit eating grin.

He loved that dog. He’d crawl into Shane’s bed at night, lay his head over his hip, all heavy and warm and stinking and love.

But then one summer the dog wasn’t there anymore. He had killed a chicken. Big teeth, thin neck, a mess of blood and feathers. You couldn’t have a dog that killed chickens around a farm, so he had to go live somewhere else.

Shane knew how that dog felt.

The farmer. He’d gotten a taste, and he wanted more.

Shane worked very hard not to want things.

Shane was failing.

It felt heavy. Everything felt heavy. 

“Are we gonna talk about all that?” She’d asked it a few days later at the saloon, voice quiet and soft, making sure Emily was elsewhere.

“Nope.” It was all that needed to be said. All that he could possibly say.

“Okayyyyy…” Her mouth was in a flat line. Another kind of honest look. Then she looked away, rested her cheek in her hand.

He wanted to be her hand.

He could still taste her.

He wanted more. It nagged at him. Made it all heavier. An unfinished task. Like if he did it maybe he could finally find some relief. Check the last box. 

He had a drink. It helped cover up the taste.

He should do with himself what Marnie did with the dog. Send himself off somewhere else, where there was less potential for pain.

That place didn’t exist, though. So he let himself sink.

Into drink, yes, of course, but also into the farmer. Because she was still there, somehow, still warm and real and honest and when he made her laugh he still felt like maybe there was a good reason for him to be on earth after all.

They spoke more. Sitting on the dock in the chilly early spring air. Or, most nights, at the Saloon. Slouching against the bar, lost in the way she managed to drag words out of him, circumventing the invisible boot that always felt like it was pressing into his throat. The teeth around his neck.

She saw more too. What he looked like when he was low. In his natural state, radiating spikes of pain that punctured the people closest to him.

It was okay. He had room for shame.

He didn’t have room for her, though, and the feelings she ignited in him. Feelings he could name (hope, joy, connection) but would not, would never, could never admit, because they were the feelings that didn’t stick around, and the holes they left behind were so much more painful than if they hadn’t been there at all.

The alcohol helped, for the most part.

It might be a problem.

———————

Shane was an atheist, but if he thought it would make the farmer stop showing up in dresses he could absolutely be convinced to pray.

Spring. Flower Dance. He was there. It made Jas and Marnie happy to see him there. He owed them that. Owed them the suit and the bow tie. Owed them the freshly shaved face and combed hair. Owed them the flask left at home.

Well. Two out of three wasn’t bad.

He spotted the farmer before she spotted him. This was a good thing - he’d probably have a stroke if he had to speak while processing what he was seeing. She was in a dress again. White this time. Light and floating around her knees. Pretty shoes that made her a little taller (his height exactly, if he figured correctly).

She looked radiant. That pure sun smile. Those warm, endless eyes. Hair done special and necklace on and bright and shining and kind and open and he wondered if he’d feel the same if she came up to him and took his hand in front of everyone and

(fuck no absolutely not, this was not what we are thinking about…)

Her shoes made her walk a little differently, back arched a bit, calves shapely. He could see the backs of her knees. She’d be soft and sensitive there. He could run his fingers back and forth over her skin, make her gasp and squirm.

(he knew what it sounded like when she gasped now, knew the sharpness of the intake, the gentle ‘hah’ that followed, knew a few ways to make her make that sound but there would be more, there would have to be more, so many ways to make her gasp that he hadn’t found yet…)

Her neckline wasn’t plunging, not exactly, but gathering, sleeves dropping off her shoulders in a way that insisted he trace his gaze across her chest.

(he’d touched her there, once, just the once, just his hands, he should have used his mouth, could have marked her, it would have faded by now but he’d know the spot, could look at her and remember how it’d felt to press his mouth there, but all he could do now is imagine and stare and…)

Shit. He was starting.

He focused quickly on the table in front of him.

Food was something to do, at least.

Take her taste out of his mouth.

He grabbed a macaron.

“Is that a bow tie?” She’d sidled up to him. 

He focused on the cookie, and the way his flask felt heavy in his pocket. “Don’t say a thing.”

She just smiled. “You look so perky! Like you’re about to round out a barbershop quartet!”

“Yoba’s Light, must you?”

“Or like you'll try to sell me a clarinet or something. Mr. Music Man!”

“Leave,” he said. “Go be somewhere else.”

“Only if you agree to dance with me!” Bright eyes. Sunshine smile.

“I would rather snort lead paint dust than dance at this thing,” he said. The cookie was dry in his mouth. Cloying and sweet.

The farmer’s sweetness was different. 

If she asked him to dance again he was going to say yes.

He needed a drink. 

“Hey kids!” Emily was there, sneaking the last macaron from under his fingers. “You dancing today?”

“Yes,” the farmer said.

“No,” Shane said.

Emily raised her eyebrows. “You two better get your stories straight.”

“Dance with me?” No bright eyes. No sunshine smile. Just her, sweet like a maple candy he’d had once, melting away on his tongue like it was never there in the first place, but the flavor remained.

“You’re not going to leave me alone until I say yes, are you?” 

“Nope!” She waved to someone over his shoulder. 

“Fuck,” Shane muttered, just to himself, then “fine.”

She smiled, small and controlled. There was a bit of impishness in her eyes. “Perfect. You’ll have to teach me the steps though.”

“Fuck,” he said, for her this time. 

She laughed. 

It all felt lighter, just for a moment. It made him feel like he was spinning up and up.

What goes up must come down.

“Show us how it’s done!” Emily was grinning over a madeleine.

Shane felt like he was losing control over the situation. 

As if he had any to begin with.

“I am not giving you a dance lesson in front of all these people.” He grabbed a fistful of meringues, popped a couple in his mouth. They dissolved instantly.

Not like her. She melted but she lingered.

“So go find a quiet spot and teach her!” Fucking Emily. She always knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Great idea! Come on!” And the farmer was holding his hand now, pulling on it, off towards the woods, and something was skipping in his mind, stuttering, trying to keep up because he absolutely felt the way he thought he would if he she did that, light shining through his body (hand to shoulder to heart to throat), a crushing weight lifted, and he could loosen if he wanted to, in the wake of it, but he tensed instead, because the holding of a hand implied a hand eventually letting go, and it all comes crashing back down so much harder when it gets lifted for a moment.

Emily winked, gave him a little wave as his feet moved without his approval.

The farmer’s hand was solid. Warm. Calloused. Strong. 

He wondered what the callouses would feel like if they rubbed against his lips. If they trailed over his stomach. If they wrapped around his -

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in something that didn’t have the word ‘Joja’ on it.” 

They were walking, just walking, hand in hand like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“How else am I supposed to feel like I’m thriving?”

The farmer snorted. Then, soft and sincere: “you look really good.”

What do you say to that?

“Thanks, you too,” he finally muttered.

“Don’t I?” She smiled at him. “Took me an hour to get my hair together. I used to take an hour on my hair every morning when I lived in the city. I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to have that much free time now.”

Shane made a sound of acknowledgement. 

One of the nice things about the farmer was that she rarely required him to have something to say.

“Think this spot is good?” They’d wandered off on a side trail, ended up in a little clearing.

Shane was struck by the fact that they were alone together. This was very rare.

Shane was struck by the fact that the farmer was absolutely beautiful, looking at him all gentle and at peace and like she was just where she wanted to be.

Shane was struck by the fact that he wanted her. He always wanted her, but it was suddenly so much more intense, so overwhelming, because she was right there, looking at him the way he looked at her, like she saw something she wanted, like she was looking at something worth wanting, and he wanted to drop to his knees.

“Yeah, this is fine,” he managed. 

“So how does it go?” She was looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?” 

“The dance. The one we’re supposed to be practicing. Is your tie restricting blood to your brain?” She reached out, fiddled with the bow.

Shane reached up and grabbed her wrists without thinking. They fit so nicely in his hands. “Don’t,” he said. “That took me twenty minutes to tie.”

He didn’t let go.

He could feel her pulse thrumming.

Her cheeks were a little flushed.

Her eyes dipped down to his mouth.

(It could happen it could happen he could check that box right now and be done with it and it would be fine, it would be okay, it was nothing to worry about because it’d be over and he’d know and the taste would be gone and he could finally finally move on…)

He rubbed his thumbs over her wrists. Slow.

“We’re going to have to talk about this at some point.” She sounded breathless. 

“Yeah,” Shane lied. Then he moved her.

There was a simplicity to bodies that Shane appreciated. A kinetic intelligence that had always been with him. Move this way and that will happen. Apply pressure here and see results there. It had made him a monster on the gridball field, taking down larger players with ease and precision.

Shane knew where his strengths lay.

He knew how to move a body. So he didn’t need to think about how to angle his grip to make the farmer take a step backwards. And it was easy to crowd into her space, press his forehead against hers, make her shift and stumble where he wanted her to go - up against a boulder that he knew would support her just where she needed it, on her shoulders, her hips, the arch of her back as he pressed her against it.

His mouth was on her skin, her neck, but only for a second because her hand was in his hair, pulling him up, making him look at her.

Her eyes.

He tried not to groan.

“Promise me,” she said. “Promise me we’ll talk about this.”

“I promise,” Shane lied.

(it was okay, he had infinite…)

“Okay,” she said, fingers loosening.

He wished they wouldn’t. He wished they’d stay right there, strong and harsh and demanding and showing him exactly what she needed, exactly what he could give her that wasn't a lie.

“Okay,” she said again, and his mouth was falling.

Dresses. Fucking dresses. So different from flannel and denim. So easy to move. Those sloping sleeves that dropped with the slightest nudge, baring curved shoulders and long neck and mounded flesh and skin and skin and skin and skin and skin.

And there it was. That gasp. She made it as he raked his lips across her chest.

(soft and warm, always, every part of her so soft and warm…)

She smelled incredible, like cedar and lavender and soap and just a little bit of sweat, and her chest was moving, heaving up under his mouth as he kissed her, mouth open and lax, chin and cheeks sliding, smooth for once (though part of him craved the friction, the resistance, the reddened skin that proved he was there).

Dresses. Fucking dresses. With tiny zippers in the back that were a bitch to get a good grip on, but once you did they came down so easy, and fuck, the farmer, so put together with a pretty strapless bra that he could pull down like it was nothing. 

Her breasts were warm and heavy as he cupped them. She sighed, pressed up into him.

A sigh was good.

A gasp was better.

He squeezed, observed the indentations his hands made in her flesh. She gasped, arching her back against the boulder.

“There you go.” He wasn’t sure if he said it or thought it. 

Her nipples had tightened, two pebbled tips, and it felt right and good and needed to pinch at them, thumbs and the sides of his forefingers.

(fuck, just like he thought, just like he dreamed, those sounds, sounds like “yes,” like “more,” like his name all broken and gaspy because she loved it, loved his fingers and his hands and his voice…)

“There you go.” He was definitely saying it out loud, and she was whimpering in return. 

His mouth wanted to say more. 

He filled it with her instead. Sucked. Grabbed at her hips as she arched again. Memorized the way she moaned. The way she tasted. Felt her tremble as his teeth scraped over her. Tried not to groan as her hands made their way back to his hair.

He failed.

"That feels so good," she was whispering, and it went straight to his cock. “So fucking good, Shane.”

(His name his name his name his name…)

The other side now. Sucking and scraping and groaning, he couldn’t help it, the sound ripping out of his throat because her hands kept holding him there. 

But then they were pulling, and he was letting her go, and she was saying “I owe you” with the cutest fucking little smile. He didn’t know what she meant until she lowered herself to her knees in front of him, and then he knew exactly what she meant.

Her hands. On his belt. His pants. Pulling. Tracing over his hips. Wrapping around his cock. She was gentle, looking up at him with eyes that were happy and present and just a little mischievous and she looked good, so fucking good down there

.

(So good, such a good fucking girl for him, down on her knees like that with her dress pulled down for anyone to walk by and see her, see her like that, all undone for him, all down on her knees with that smile that felt like a kiss, hot and dirty and intimate and he wanted to kiss her, drag her back up by her hair and…)

She flicked her tongue against the head of his cock, then took it into her mouth. 

He groaned.

Her lips stretched around him, warm, hot, so hot he was dying. 

He needed more.

He reached for her head, her hair, but she slapped his hands away, drew back to say “you mess up my hair and I’m ripping out your bow tie.”

Of course she’d make him laugh like that. 

“Noted,” he said. He realized his voice sounded warm.

And then she was on him for real, mouth stretching down, enveloping him, soft and suction and heat and wet and perfect. So perfect. He wanted to tell her, to unlock his throat, to let the words fall out

(So good so good so fucking good for me sucking my cock like this out in the open, so pretty for me on your knees, fucking made for me aren’t you, fucking made for this…)

But he pressed his lips tight. Closed his eyes. Let the entirety of all that was him rest at the point where her mouth stroked his skin.

It felt like light. Like letting go.

He wanted to let go.

But not yet. 

Now or never, he realized. 

He had to see. Had to check that box. Put it behind him.

He grabbed her hair, pulled her face back. She went easily, looked up at him. Her lipstick was smudged, her eyes a little wet.

He was going to make a mess of her, wasn’t he?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” It was the hair, he realized. 

Well. In for a penny, in for a pound. He kept one hand on her head, used the other to rip out his bow tie, and then he was pulling, something deep in him filling at the way she gasped, different this time, excited, anticipating, an edge of pain.

(Gonna make a mess of her, make a mess of this…)

She was easy to move, so pliant, goosebumps pricking up her arms as he settled her stomach and chest against the rock. He leaned against her, let her feel his weight. His mouth was by her ear. He let his lips touch it. Not a kiss, just a touch. Like his hand that had come around to cup her neck. Just a touch. Just a touch.

She was moving. Hips hitching back, rubbing against him. Throat flexing as she spoke: “Shane, fuck, I need you… Yoba, just fuck me, please.”

Her light. From her throat through his hand to his shoulder to his mouth. Filling it with her taste, too much, too full to keep the words inside, so as he reached up under her dress, pulled her underwear down, pressed his fingers against her he started to speak.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking wet for me, look at you.”

The words made her moan, or maybe it was his fingers working up inside of her. 

“You’re gonna feel so good, aren’t you? Gonna be good for me?”

He barely knew what he was saying, but she was agreeing with it, nodding, whining, moving her hips.

“That’s my girl. That’s my fucking girl.” He had to let go of her neck to get his hand around his cock, to rub it against her, so wet and welcoming, so warm, so fucking warm, all the time, like sunlight, pulling him in, (“I’ll pull out” “fuck, just do it”) deep, deeper, and he could feel her shift around him, making room, making space with a whimper and a whine and a groan (though maybe that was him) and he was enveloped and it was all lifting, lifting off of him, the weight, and fuck if there was space, if there was room in his life for good he could enjoy it, live in this moment, let it fill him and brace him and fix him like some idiot part of his brain still thought was possible.

But there wasn’t space.

So this had to be it.

She was looking over her shoulder at him. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes soft and hazy. Beautiful. So beautiful she couldn’t possibly be for him. “You feel good,” she said. 

If only there were space.

“Baby…” It fell out, looking in her eyes, and it made her smile, and it was fucked, it was all fucked, wasn’t it, because he couldn’t go back, couldn’t unfeel her, couldn’t unsee her, couldn’t let go of her taste.

There was nothing left to do but what his body was screaming for. 

To move.

An arm around her waist. A hand around her neck. Lips fastened on her shoulder. Hips shifting, ears listening, and yes, a gasp, a tightening, and so he did it again, felt her groan reverberate through his hand (hand to shoulder to heart), and then there was rhythm, something to follow, to fall into, to finally finally shut his mind off for one damn minute and feel.

Cool stone seeping in through his elbow.

Soft skin so easy to mold and move.

The farmer. Tight around him. Squeezing and taking. Giving back movement and sound and if he weren’t so far gone, so caught up in her he’d worry that they might carry, that someone might hear, but there was nothing on his mind, a merciful blank, a space, there was space, space that he could fill with her, like he was filling her.

(fuck fuck fuck he was doing it he was doing it he was here and she was here and they were moving together and it was like floating it was like falling it was like waking up it was like going to sleep it was like climbing it was like slipping it was nothing and everything and)

He wanted her to want this like him. Remember this like he would. He dropped his hand from her throat, found her clit, all wet and swollen and (fuck fuck fuck) her sounds were changing, breathier, rising in tenor and tension and he needed it, needed her to feel it too, how the weight could lift.

“Yes,” she was saying, over and over. Voice tight and shaking, trembling under him, hitching and tightening in a way that made his stomach drop, his hips tighten, his mind go blank and 

(oh shit oh shit oh shit too much too much can’t move can’t think can’t breathe can’t fucking…)

He was making a mess of her.

Like he made a mess of everything.

For a moment it all lifted.

In an instant it all came crashing back down.

“Fuck, did you…?” She was looking over her shoulder as he was pulling out, pulling away. Eyes (those eyes, those pretty pretty pretty eyes) still blown dark. Hair unkept. Lips swollen, like she’d been biting at them.

He wanted to push right back into her again. 

He wanted to run. 

“I… shit…” What the fuck do you say to that?

She was turning, rearranging her clothes, and there were things he was supposed to say, feelings he was supposed to be having, but there was no room for them, none, (only shame, infinite room for shame) but still she was there, and her hand was on his cheek. “We have to talk about this, Shane.”

“I know.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t a promise either.

“They’re going to miss us at the dance. We need to get back but…” She sighed. Stoked a thumb over his cheek.

(How? How? How did she have space for him, still, with all that was falling and all that was crushing and all that was him?)

The words were all caught up in his throat.

He needed a drink.

She was fixing his tie. Smoothing her hair. Swiping at her lips. Undoing the mess he made.

He wanted to fall to his knees.

“Come on.” She held onto his hand, led him back to the festival.

She had an infinite capacity for love, he realized. He could bask in it. Photosynthesize. Wrap that vine around her and let it grow and grow and grow until eventually it choked out everything around it. Thick and thorny and invasive, winding around her neck, impossible to remove once those roots got deep.

“Your bow tie’s a little crooked.” Emily. Back at the dance. The farmer was off making her rounds. 

He wondered if she could still feel him inside of her. 

“Did you two have fun dancing? You missed the big show.” Em was futzing with his tie, and his arms felt too heavy to bat her away. 

“Fucking hate this festival,” he said. 

“There’s always next year.” She ruffled his hair. 

Shane said nothing. Watched the farmer. Tried to decide if her walk was different. If her shoulders sloped. If she could feel his weight. 

He could feel it.

What he carried.

What pressed in on him.

Like a boulder on his back.

Like teeth sharp on a throat.

Her taste was still there.

It wouldn’t go away.

And Shane had to decide if he could live with the consequences.

Masterlist

[gardens-light]

In The Name Of Love

Believing that chaos had settled down, you and the Autobots decide to hit the road again. Leaving the abandoned cathedral behind, and moving on- to where? Neither of you knew. For the next plan of action hadn't been thought yet. But chaos never rests. For little did any of you know, that something else was brewing- a danger so much bigger than yourselves was coming after you.

Content: Events takes place in Transformers- Age of Extinction, (Minor spoilers). Mild coarse language. Reader insert. Optimus Prime x F/Human Reader.

Sparkmate Series: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 (End)

A small hiss escaped your lips, feeling Tessa's confused stare as you wiggled into a new pair of jeans. Rubbing your behind and upper thighs, as you attempted to soothe the bruising that began to form.  

“What happened to you last night?"

"Nothing." You simply spoke, avoiding your sister's gaze as you packed your bag. "I uh... got up to get a drink. Must've lost my footing while going down the stairs."

"Oh really?" Tessa raised a brow, while crossing her arms. "Because I thought you told Dad, that you fell in the pool next door, and Optimus caught you."

A small chuckle left her, as you tried to hide your blushing face. Simply turning your back on Tessa, adjusting the backpack upon your shoulders.

"Th-That's what I meant." You lowly spoke, trying to hide the embarrassment within your tone.

"Here's a tip, Sis." Tessa teased, while patting your shoulder. "One, if you're gonna lie. Stick to one story."

You tilted your head a little, "and the second?" you questioned. Slightly hearing that there was more to your sister's statement.

But all she did was turned and faced you, giving you a cheeky smile. "And two... you're not as quiet, as you think you are..."

--- 

A sudden screech of Optimus’ wheels filled the air, as he swerved from an oncoming attack. Avoiding a missile, by entering the left lane of the highway.  

“What’s happening?” Tessa asked, as her body slid into you. Both of you pressing against the driver's door.   

Innocent bystanders blared their horns, as the Autobot cut them off. Causing his passengers to slide against his passenger door, dodging another attack from an unknown enemy ahead.  

The roaring sound of Drift’s and Crosshairs’ engines caught your attention, watching them overtake their leader with effortless speed. Returning fire at the enemy, while Hound and Bumblebee escorted cars off the highway and into the field upon the left.  

“What the fuck is that?” Shane’s voice yelled.  

Your heart raced a little quicker, breath getting stuck in your throat as your wide eyes gazed at the road ahead. Casually strolling towards the Autobots, an unknown Transformer of gun-metal silver caused your hair to stand on end. From what you could tell, no clear sign of Autobot or Deception marked their mechanical body. The two cannons adorning the metal plates of their forearms, caused your stomach to twist in a sickening knot, as the weaponry put Hound’s to shame.  

A scream escaped your lips, as Optimus harshly drifted towards the left. Tires screeching more and smoke emerging from the back of the truck, as his brakes pressed against the floor. Optimus’ plates began to shift and change, as he slowly rolled out of his altmode, causing Shane and Cade to fall out of the passenger side. Luckily having a somewhat soft landing as their bodies rolled against the grass.  

A low growl escaped the Autobot’s lips, as he clutched you and Tessa against his chassis’ with his free servo, Optimus tore up the tar road as his grip dug into it. Slowing him down just a little, leaving Cade and Shane a few meters behind.  

Kneeling against the torn-up road, Optimus looked down at you and Tessa, as he carefully placed the two of you onto the ground. “Are you girls alright?” 

“Look out!” but your warning came too late, as a missile from the unknown enemy ripped through Optimus’ shoulder. Green energon seeped from his wounds and onto you, as he tried to use his large mechanical body to shield you from the blast.   

“Prime!”  

Fear erupted through Optimus’ Spark, his optics widening in disbelief, as a familiar voice boomed from the unknown enemy ahead. Pain clutched onto his wires, as the sound of your sobbing voice called out to him. A scream escaping your lips, as your terrified gaze watched the Autobot take another hit.  

“Optimus! Optimus, get up!” You pleaded, reaching out for him. The ground trembling as he landed upon his back. His helm crushing the hood of the white SUV behind him.   

“I-I can’t... get out of here. Both of you.” His voice spluttered, groaning in pain as Optimus’ body had trouble moving.  

Looking over her shoulder, Tessa saw Cade waving his arms. Gesturing for you and Tessa to come back to him. Her heart ached from racing, breath stolen from her lungs, as her father’s panicky words filled the air. With tears streaming down her face, Tessa wrapped her arms around your waist tightly. Hugging you from behind.  

“We need to go, Sis!-” 

“I won't leave him!”  

With great struggle, Tessa started to pull you backwards. Forcing you towards the direction of the SUV behind Optimus.  

“We need to hide!” she protested.  

Pushing you into the back passenger seats, Tessa closed the door. Quickly wrapping an arm around your waist, while placing her free hand over your mouth. Muffling your cries.  

“Hello Prime.” 

“L-Lockdown?” Optimus’ worried optics gazed up at the bounty-hunter. Watching his old foe lower himself to the Autobot’s level. “What are you doing here? Who sent you?” 

But Lockdown just gave him a smug expression. “Collecting you... our creators want you back.” 

“Cr-Creators? What in Primus name-” 

“Haven’t you ever wondered where you came from?” a small scoff escaped his lips. “Did you honestly believe you were born? No, Prime. You were built! Built for a purpose. A purpose you’ve strayed from.” 

Lockdown’s green optics narrowed onto the SUV, raising a metal ridge as Optimus tried to discreetly push the veicheal away.  

“I feel sorry for you, Prime. Your allegiance to these humans. The trouble with loyalty to a cause, is that the cause will always betray you...” 

--- 

Cade’s worried gaze helplessly watched Lockdown return to his full height. The bounty hunter’s plates shifting and churning, retracting the cannon upon his forearm and revealing a holo-pad. Cade’s pounding heart jumped into his throat, as a daunting UFO emerged from the overcast sky. Hovering over Lockdown, as a small escape pod broke away from the ship.  

“No... No! Girls!” Cade screamed running down the road, as fast as he could.  

--- 

You and Tessa frantically watched a net deploy from Lockdown’s escape pod. Covering the SUV and Optimus.  The pair of you holding tightly onto one another, both of your voices calling out for Cade.  

“Girls! Girls! Get out!” Cade’s voice yelled, his hands slamming against the passenger window.  

“Dad! Help us!” your sister pleaded. Tears streamed down her face.  

Another slam met the back windscreen. Your wide eyes helplessly witnessed Shane’s bloody knuckles smear against the window.  

The engines of Lockdown’s pod fired up, dragging the net upwards. Causing you and Tessa to roll into the SUV’s trunk.  

“Girls! Girls! Break the window!”  

“I’m trying, Dad!” you spoke. Kicking the rear windscreen as hard as you could.  

As the net lifted higher, pain etched throughout Cade’s fingers as he tried to hold on.  

“Girls! Keep breaking the glass!” 

Tessa’s scared expression witnessed Cade’s sweaty hands. “No! No!” 

“I-I can’t hold on!” the burning caused him to hiss. His clutch begging to be released.  

“No! Dad don’t leave us!” Tessa pleaded.  

“Break! You fucking piece of shit!” your demanding voice roared. As you began to take out all fear and frustration onto the rear windscreen.  

“Break the glass, Y/N!-” 

“Dad!” you and Tessa screamed. As the pair of you watched Cade fall back down... 

In The UFO 

“Take those humans to the trash!” Lockdown ordered his small robotic minions.  

“No!” Optimus protested. Trying to struggle against his restraints, as the bounty-hunter dragged the Autobot by his pedes. “Lockdown! If you harm them, I’ll-” 

“You’ll do what, Prime?” he mocked, barely looking over his shoulder. “Besides, don’t you remember this ship?” 

Optimus took a slight look around. Strange prisons held other lifeforms, their snarls and groans filled the air. Parts of the ship looked broken- or more like torn apart. Gun-metal gray covered everything, like it was Lockdown’s signature colour. 

“It was built for all you Knights. The ‘Great Crusaders’ to explore the universe. But, as you can see I’ve commandeered it! Made it my own personal prison.”  

“Welcome back to the Knights Temeos, Prime.” Lockdown gestured at the center of the ship.  

Optimus barely recognized the once great hall, instead of impressive weapons of old. Circular cages and solid prisons with barred doors took their place. The ancient text long stripped away, allowing room for the decapitated heads of Lockdown’s past foes.   

“Y-You... You have disgraced it.” 

A scoff escaped Lockdown’s lips, as he approached one of the solid prisons. Turning a crank, making the metal bars raise and lock into place.    

“You should be grateful, Prime. This is only for the rarest of specimens.” Lockdown spoke with a smile. “The worst of the worst. It’s taken centuries, but I’ve collected all of the Knights. Including you.” 

Optimus struggled against Lockdown’s vice grip, as the hunter forced the Prime into the prison. The Autobot groaned in pain, as the hunter forced his arms above his head. Inducing further injury to his damaged shoulder. As the chains harshly nestled against Optimus’ wrists, the Autobot’s optics widened as Lockdown tilted his helm to the side.  

A low growl came from the Optimus, as he attempted to shift his body weight away from Lockdown. Trying to stop the hunter’s digits from playing with your iron ring.  

“Don’t touch that!” 

Lockdown examined Optimus’ course expression. His sly smile widening, as the hunter fiddled with the item. Finding pleasure of how much it annoyed his prisoner, “now why would you have something like this?” 

A dark chuckle escaped Lockdown’s lips, “don’t tell me... you’ve interfaced with a human!-” 

“Stay away from her!-” 

“Oh Prime... wait till your Creators hear about this.” Lockdown teased. “All this species mixing with species. It isn’t right... isn’t normal. It upsets the cosmic balance, and the Creators don’t like it-”  

“If any harm comes to Y/N, I’ll have your head!-” 

“You were built to do as you were told, Prime!” Lockdown snapped. “The Creators wants to wipe their chessboard clean and start a new. Beginning with you!”  

Lockdown’s digits wrapped around your iron ring, ripping it away from Optimus’ wrist and throwing it against the floor.  

“No!-” 

“You should be ashamed of how far you’ve fallen, Prime!” the hunter spat while exiting the prison. Turning the crank, causing the metal bars to fall down and lock into place. “For she’s just a human!” 

“She’s more than that to me.” Optimus lowly spoke, his optics watching your ring roll along the floor. Stopping against the barred door, “but I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand such thing...”  

--- 

You and Tessa remained hidden in the truck of the SUV. Slowly peering over the back passenger seats, frightened eyes looking out the windows. Trying to find some form of familiarity in the alien surroundings.  

Small robot minions dragged the vicheal into a circular room, the space of metal walls and floor was tight and small. As the large furness in the middle took up the space. Mechanical tendrils grabbed parts of random metal and junk, effortlessly pulling them apart and throwing them into the furness. 

“What the fuck is this place?” you whispered.  

“I don’t know.” Tessa climbed over into the back seat, “but I’m not waiting around to find out-” 

“Tessa! Wait!” 

She slowly opened the back passenger door, once the SUV stopped moving. But her scream filled the air as the sight of Lockdown’s robotic minions greeted her.  

A echoey but mechanical scream erupted from the minions, using their claws to try and grab Tessa.  

“Tessa!” 

She tried kicking one of the minions off her leg, as you clumsily climbed over the back seat. Grabbing a crowbar and smashing the minion's face.  

“Get away from my sister!” You yelled.  

Finally, achieving some distance between yourselves and the robotic minions, you grabbed Tessa’s hand and ran towards the nearest exit.  

“Optimus?” 

“Optimus? Where are you?”  

Your voices echoed throughout the large hall. Tessa’s grip refused to let your hand go, as your fingers wiggled. Trying to loosen your sister’s grip, as your palms felt hot and sweaty.  

Your worried eyes scanned your surroundings, trying to sense your way through strange halls and which direction would be best to follow. Please be alright...  

Back On The Ground  

“Come on! Come on!” Cade hurriedly spoke to Shane, as Bumblebee’s tires came to a screeching halt.  

Both exiting the Camero and running towards the railings of Mehigan Avenue's bypass. People abandoned their cars, as their yelling and screaming voices filled the air. The Autobots changed out of their altmodes, following Cade and Shane’s lead, while Lockdown’s ship hovered above the river nearby. 

“This is a bad idea.” Hound grumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “But hey, I’m all for bad ideas.” 

Drift helped give Shane and Cade a boost, climbing onto the roof of the ship. As its thrusters slowly picked up speed. All shakily making their way towards an opening within the ceiling of the ship.  

“This is crazy.” Shane breathed, slightly peering down into the ship’s metal interior. 

“Look.” Cade caught Shane’s attention, “you wanna cut and run? Now’s the time to do so, Lucky Charms.” 

“I’m not here to help your get your daughters.” Shane spoke, finding his confidence, “you’re here to help me rescue my girlfriend, and future sister-in-law.” 

Cade raised an eyebrow. Cocky bastard...   

--- 

“We’re behind enemy lines now.” Hound lowly warned, as he helped Cade and Shane onto the main platform of the ship. “Lockdown’s ship is bound to have booby traps. So eyes open!”  

“Beware of his bone grinders, brain blinders, flesh peelers.” Crosshairs flat tone sounded almost admirable, rather than a warning. As his green optics scanned the main bridge, “also chromosomal inverters, catatonic sludge, black hole trapdoors, and of course, radiation.”  

“We must be quick.” Drift encouraged, “we have the element of surprise. Let’s try and use violence as a last resort.”  

Most of the Autobot’s silently nodded, but a heavy sigh left Crosshairs. “Well, we looked. They’re not here. Let’s go-” 

“What?” Cade challenged, his eyes giving the green Autobot daggers. “Hey! I’m not going anywhere without my daughters-” 

“I’m unclear. What’s in it for me?” 

“What’s in it for you?!-” 

The whirling of Hound’s cannon interrupted Cade, causing him to fall silent and back away from Crosshairs. As the gray Autobot placed the barrel of his weapon, into Crosshairs’ neck. 

“Easy. Let’s use words.” Crosshairs spoke, holding his servos up in the air.  

“What’s in it for you, is that I don’t kill you.” Hound boldly spoke. “We’re getting the boss back, and the girls. Copy?” 

“Okay, okay.” Crosshairs watched Hound slowly withdraw his weapon, “very persuasive. Textbook machismo... well then. We’re going to need to sabotage something.”  

“Better hurry.” Drift warned, “because the dark-matter drives are preparing to take off. I give us... ten minutes.” 

“Is that what that sound is?” Shane’s panicky tone questioned. “The engines filling up? Are you telling me, that this thing is going to be taking off in ten minutes?” 

“Could be nine...” Drift shrugged his shoulders, “worst case... seven-” 

“Cade, Shane. Search the cell blocks.” Hound instructed, “we’ll find Optimus.” 

“Let’s stop this nightmare ship...” 

--- 

“Optimus?... Optimus?” 

Your voice echoed throughout the large hallway, the walls and floor looming over you and Tessa, making you both feel smaller than you already were.  

“Where are you?” 

“So... how did it start?” Tessa randomly questioned.  

You gave Tessa a little side glance, seeing the corners of her mouth turn up a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Right...” her teasing tone mocked, “because most people totally go from, ‘I’m going to take this alien apart’ to ‘I’m going to fuck it-” 

“Tessa! What the fuck?” you questioned between coughs, as you choked on your own breath. “What on Earth are you talking about?-” 

“Y/N, I’ve been sneaking around with my boyfriend for months.” Her tone teased, “plus, you’re my sister. I can tell when you’re lying.”  

Tessa lightly chuckled, as she watched the blush form across your features.   

“But seriously... how did it start?”  

A heavy sigh left you, knowing that she wouldn’t stop until you answered her. “I... wouldn’t be able to describe it.” You lowly admitted, trying to avoid Tessa as you felt her smiling gaze. “At first, all I wanted was to figure out how he worked. How I could use their technology to help with Dad’s inventions. Then Optimus came to life, and my thoughts kept reverting back to the reward money you spoke of. So as I begun fixing him, my mind thought that we could gotten more money by handing over a working Transformer, rather than a dead one.” 

“What changed?” 

“I did.” You simply answered, “the more we talked, the more I realized how wrong I was. The Cybertronians, they’re not simple-minded machines that the government would make us believe. They’re living beings with souls, life, dreams. You should have seen how Optimus spoke about his home world, the hurt and pain I saw within his eyes, as he told me about how their war tore it apart. And the joy that just... just radiated from his Spark as I fixed him. It was like, it had been a very long time since Optimus felt such happiness. Such peace...” 

“Kinda sounds like love at first sight.” Tessa spoke. 

A small chuckle left you, “I guess you could say that... kinda like you and Shane being Romeo and Juillet.” 

Tessa gave you a playful nudge, “I can’t wait to see Dad’s face when he finds out-” 

“He’s not- wait. Did you hear that?” 

Both of you stopped in the middle of the hallway, the low sound of growling coming to your ears. Hearts slowly picking up rhythm, as your hair stood on end. Eyes widening as the sight of four, mechanical dogs prowled towards you.  

“Oh shit-” 

“Run. Run!” 

Grabbing Tessa’s hand, almost dragging her as you both ran in the opposite direction. Yelps and screams escaped you and Tessa, as you ran from one hallway into another. The sounds of the dogs snarling indicated that they weren’t far behind.  

“Quick! Through this way!”  

You shoved Tessa through the bars of a cell, following just in time as the dogs tried to bite their way through the bars. The pair of you backed away into a corner, while the dogs continued to bark and snarl. Alerting the minions of your location.  

“What we do, Y/N?” 

“I’m working on it.” 

Both pressed yourselves into the corner, as your terrified expression helplessly watched one of the dogs squeeze itself through the metal bars. The others backed away, allowing the minion to shoot through the bars. Slapping a hand over Tessa’s mouth, muffling her screams as you shoved her into the wall. Using yourself as her shield. 

You closed your eyes tightly, preparing to feel the beast’s claws pierce into your back. As you placed a free hand over your mouth, trying to muffle a high pitch scream that slowly began to bubble in your throat.  

‘Bang!’ 

A gunshot echoed throughout the cell, followed by the sound of a canine whine. You and Tessa froze, breaths trembling as you nervously waited for what followed... 

--- 

“They could be anywhere.” Cade muttered. Looking around at his surroundings, as he entered a chamber just outside of the Knights Tomeos. Climbing over the center piece, weaving in and out of the swords that stuck out, as he tried to get a better view.  

“It’s like finding a needle in a haystack.”  

“We need to find them- whoa! Shit!” 

Losing his footing, Cade quickly grabbed the center sword. Slightly pulling it to the side, trying to stop himself from falling any further.  

Shane gazed at the floor, as a low rumble echoed beneath them. Cade glanced around as the metal plates of the chamber began to shift and change, walls caving in on themselves and statues of armored knights rose from the floor. The large feature wall behind them revealed an array of weapons. 

“Come here! Help me!” Cade shouted, jumping off the center piece and approaching the feature wall. “Grab something that we could use!” 

“Ahh... Cade?” Shane whispered after a while. Wide eyes looking at the red lasers scanning the room. “What’s that?” 

Strapping an unusual looking cannon to himself, Cade peered over his shoulder. Seeing the minions slowly approaching the entrance to the chamber. “I don’t know. But on my signal, run behind that center thing.” 

Silently counting to three, Cade quickly leapt away from the wall. Grabbing Shane and pulling him behind the center piece.  

“I’m not going down without a fight!” he groaned, holding the weapon and placing a free hand upon Shane’s shoulder. “They’re going to turn that corner, and we’re gonna take them! You ready, or you gonna bitch out on me?” 

“No! I’ve got your back!” Shane bravely spoke.  

“Are you ready?” 

“Absolutely!” 

The sound of the minions' footsteps came closer.  Causing Shane’s already fast beating heart to pulse a little more rapidly.  

“Don’t bitch out on me, Romeo! Are you ready?” 

“Yeah! Yeah!” Shane hurriedly spoke. Waiting for Cade’s count down from three.  

“Two! One!-” 

“Wait! Wait!” Shane cried, jumping out of his hiding spot. His terrified expression gazing at the minions who aimed their weapons at him. “I surrender! I surrender!” 

Fucking knew it! Cade’s thoughts hissed. Still hiding behind the center piece.  

Adrenaline running through his veins, Shane threw the weapon onto the metal floor. Quickly hiding for cover again, as the weapon fired. Causing a bullet to ricochet off the walls, and into the minions. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!-” 

“What’d you do?” Cade asked, cutting off Shane’s frantic apology. “How’d you do that?” 

“I have no idea!” 

“What my daughter sees in you is beyond me!”  

After fidgeting with the weapon for a moment, Cade’s eyes lit up in excitement as the cannon whirled to life. Lighting up with a purple hue.  

“Stay here, Lucky Charms!” 

Moving away from the center piece, Cade unleashed a wave of gunfire upon the minions. Standing his ground, as his adrenaline beating heart surged excitement through his veins. Allowing the bullets to pierce into the mechanical beings, tearing them apart.  

“I’m so gonna patent this shit!” 

--- 

“That was Dad!” Tessa whispered.  

Tessa quickly maneuvered around the mechanical dog, its whines echoing throughout the cell. It tried to nip at your ankle as you stepped over it. But as you looked down, your heart ached a little as energon pooled beneath its body. A mixture of snarls and whines escaped its throat, orange sparks zapped out of its mechanical joins, causing the creature to wince in pain. 

The glowing of the Matrix caught your attention. Carefully pulling out the pendant from under your collar, eyes shifting between the pendant and the injured beast.  

Sensing your hesitation, Tessa looked over her shoulder. Pulling a confused expression, as she watched you kneel beside the creature.  

“What are you doing?-” 

“Hang on for a sec.” You whispered, “I just wanna try something.” 

Your hand hovered over the dog’s forehead, flinching a little whenever it tried to bite you.  

“That thing isn’t like the Autobots!” Tessa hissed, “Dad’s trying to find us!” 

“I just need a minute.” 

Your fingertips quickly scratched behind the beast’s ear, before bringing your hand back to hover above its nose again. Allowing the dog to catch your sent, between each testing pat.  

“You’re alright, boy.” You cooed, while scratching lightly behind its ear. Using your free hand to remove the necklace, allowing The Matrix pendant to carefully hover over the wound upon its belly. “Let me help you.” 

The Matrix glowed brightly, small blue sparks clashed with the orange ones, that zapped out of the dog’s wound. The beast continued to whine, its body twisting in pain.  

“Good boy. Good boy.” Your voice hummed, gently scratching underneath its chin.  

The Matrix hummed, spinning rapidly causing the chain to twist in your hand. Before a blue flash burst over the beast. A low pant escaped its mouth, as you watched the dog struggle onto its feet. The red glow in its optics fading and changing to a brilliant blue.  

You smiled at the creature, its mechanical tail wagging while barking happily at you.  

You turned back to Tessa, her dumbfounded expression gazing at you as her jaw hung low.  

“What? I’ve always wanted a dog.” You spoke with a smile, placing the necklace around your neck again. “Come along, Torgal.” 

--- 

“Dad!” 

“Girls! Girls! Over here!” Cade yelled, quickly approaching the entrance of the chamber.  

A huge smile spread across his features, as Tessa ran into the chamber. Opening his arms wide, preparing to embrace your sister.  

“Shane! I love you!” her voice cried, flinging herself into Shane’s arms. While Cade stood beside them with an unamused expression, “I love you! You saved me! You came back for me!” 

“Of course, I did.” Shane cooed into Tessa’s ear, running his hand through her blonde locks. “I will fight to the ends of the Earth, just to bring you back.” 

“Oh, yeah. He saved you. Sure.” Cade muttered, a small smile teased the corners of his lips, as your sweet chuckles came to his ears. “Y/N...” 

You wrapped your arms around Cade, feeling him embrace you tightly. “I’m so sorry, Dad-” 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Sweetie.” He cooed into your ear. “I’m just glad to have my girls back-” 

“Optimus!” You cried, catching a glimpse of the Autobot in his cell. As you looked over Cade’s shoulder. 

Cade winced as you accidentally shouted into his ear. Pulling away from his embrace and running into the Knights Tomeos. 

“Can’t you girls be happy to see me for once?” Cade sighed, raising an eyebrow as his eyes watched the mechanical dog follow you.  

You approached the bars, banging your palm against the metal. “Optimus! Optimus, it’s me!-” 

“Y/N?...” Optimus’ optics needed a moment to focus, before realization sunk in. “Sweet Spark!”  

“I’m here! Just hold on!-” 

“Big boy coming through!” Hound’s voice boomed from the hallway, “move! Move!” the Autobot demanded as he stormed through the entrance. Causing Tessa, Shane and Cade to scatter out of the way.  

“Boys! Boys, over here!” you shouted, banging your palm against the cell. As Torgal tried to claw and bite his way through the bars.  

“Nice find, Y/N!” Hound complimented, quickly approaching your side, as his optics roughly studied the barred door. “Alright, Little Lady. Back up-” 

“Hold on, boss! We’re coming!” Crosshairs called out.  

Letting out a grunt, Hound forced the door open. Allowing you to enter, as he quickly got to work of releasing Optimus from his restraints.  

“The arms of this Knight Ship detach.” Optimus spoke. “We can break fee. It’s a separate ship-” 

“Where’s the cockpit?” Crosshairs asked, “right or left?” 

“Right.” 

“I’m on it-” 

“Y/N.” You looked up at Optimus, his helm lowering as he tried to rest against your forehead. “Are you hurt? Did Lockdown do anything?” 

“No.” Your calming voice soothed his aching Spark, “I’m alright. I’m not hurt in any way.” 

“Not knowing what happened to you, my Sweet Spark... I feared the worst.” 

You placed your hand upon his cheek, caressing Optimus’ faceplate with your thumb. “Hopefully this would wipe away any fears.” 

A loving hum vibrated through Optimus’ Spark, as your lips softly enclosed over his. Both closed your eyes, as Optimus finally felt his arms fall free from his restraints. Wrapping his servo around your waist, as you melted into his embrace.  

“Break it up lovebirds.” Hound interrupted, “we’ve got a ship to catch.” 

“You’re right, Hound.” Optimus spoke, breaking apart from your lips as his servo lifted you up. Gently holding you against his chassis. “Lockdown would be in Deep Space before he realizes I’m gone.” 

Torgal sniffed at your iron ring upon the floor, barking at you as he got yours and Optimus’ scent. 

The Prime smiled down at the dog, as Torgal carefully picked up the item with his mouth. Dropping it into the palm of Optimus’ free servo.  

“Would you do me the honor of placing this back on?” 

You smiled, reaching for the iron ring and threading it through the cables of his wrist. “Of course, my love.”  

Tag List

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[glazedsnail]

I was certain I'd die before reaching 30.

It had been quite a reality for me from a young age. I would not reach 30. I'd die way younger, or the day before, but there was absolutely no way I'd live past 30.

So I had no plans. Why would I? I'd probably end up kms anyway.

Why am I saying this? BOY

Lemme tell you the mess I was when I reached Shane 4 hearts event in Stardew Valley, man, that's not even funny. I sobbed like I was watching the most gut wrenching movie ever made, and I was just reading a cut scene involving a sad pixelated chicken man.

How's the writing so damn good in this farming simulator? I said that exact same thing after spending the night drinking when I was like 16 and in my head KNOWING I'd be long gone before 30.

I'm just amazed.

I'm past 30 now. It gets better.

It really does.

[vyllain]

"Sunshine"

Shane's world began to crumbled down as Jas and Marnie left his room. The farmer watched what just happen until they excuse themselves leaving as well. His eyes never left them, his mouth turned to a joyous smile, eyes widen with likeness, his heart began to race. The sunlight bask behind him as he sighed smiling with bliss. The wetness soaked around him where the farmer poured to wake him up.

He was smiling like a fool until he repeated their name many times like a prayer. He is lost, yet he felt the burning desire of wanting them.

"Sunshine...I want you."

Sorry it was a bad narrative but i rest my case. The 4 heart event with a twist. (Get out minds out of the gutter hehe) I am still progressing of my works.

I just like Shane alot. He is easier to draw.

[todisturbtheuniverse]

FIC: Borrowed Magic [1/5]

Rating: T Fandom: Stardew Valley Pairing: Shane/Female Farmer Tags: Pre-Relationship, Developing Friendship, Grief, Alcoholism, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Slow Burn Word Count: 2,830 (this chapter) Summary: The farmer has a way of making ordinary things seem like magic. Shane just has a hard time believing it. Also on AO3. Notes: You'll get some additional context from reading the previous entry in this series, Liminal Grief, but the references are minimal enough that this can probably stand alone. This fic starts shortly after Shane's 2-heart event, and ends shortly before the 4-heart event. All five chapters are written; I plan to post one per week. Thanks, always and forever, to jkateel and bossuary/misslonelyhearts for their invaluable feedback on this fic.

The days got longer, spring turning to summer, until it was after eight o'clock and there was still some light left in the sky. By the time Jas went to bed, dusk was in full force. It was the best time to meander. The rest of the valley was tucked up indoors, getting ready for the night. There was little to no chance of running into anyone who would question the six pack Shane was hauling around with him. It would just be him, and the balmy evening, and several beers.

He meandered toward the pond. His head was already pleasantly empty; it usually happened like that, on a Friday. There would be no shift at JojaMart tomorrow, no shelves to stock, no conveyer belt to babysit, no Morris breathing down his neck. The weekend stretched before him, empty.

A thought attempted to form—a memory of what weekends used to be like, not that long ago. He squashed it. He didn't want to ruminate, not tonight.

As he approached the pond, though, another anomaly threatened his plans. Somebody was already sitting on the dock. They had a bag, and a fishing pole, and a lantern. On closer inspection, in the light of that lantern, he knew exactly who it was. He stifled a groan.

This wasn't the first time he'd run into Lydia here. Last time, he'd said a lot of stupid things. She'd arrived in the middle of his sixth beer, and he'd been feeling grateful for how she'd been so willing to let Jas use the treehouse on her farm. He cringed at the memory. He'd overshared—a lot. She, unusually, hadn't said much of anything, just patted him on the arm as he'd gotten up to leave.

Ugh. He needed to find somewhere else to drink.

But he'd hesitated too long. As she fiddled with the fishing pole setup, she caught sight of him. "Hey," she called, smiling. "How's it going?"

He thought about turning around and heading deeper into the forest without even responding, but his conscience got the better of him. Damn. If she'd just given up after his initial rudeness, if she hadn't helped him find Jas that day she'd run away, he would've been able to walk away, free and clear. But she didn't deserve his attitude after all that.

He could still try to get out of this, though.

"Hey," he said, pointedly ignoring the question. "I can find someplace else."

"There's plenty of room," she said, as he'd known she would, and patted the dock. "If you can pay the tax, of course."

He could still say no, thanks. He almost did. But he was having an okay night so far. He had beer. Lydia had proven to be a good distraction. If any other thoughts tried to form inside his thick skull, her chatter would probably disperse them instantly.

"Tax?" he asked, and started down the dock.

"Beer," she said, pointing at the six pack. "I only brought water, which was really shortsighted of me, considering."

He pulled one of the cans off the plastic ring and tossed it to her as he approached. She caught it out of the air, grinning openly now.

"Considering what?" he asked, sitting down at the dock's edge.

"Considering how long I'm going to be sitting here," she said. She cracked the can open, took a sip, and let out a long sigh. "Damn, that's foul."

He snorted. "Fresh from the JojaMart shelf."

"Stick the rest in the cooler," she said. "Maybe ice will improve the flavor."

Despite her complaints, she took another sip. He opened up the cooler and shuffled around the contents to make room: a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a bag heavy with sliced pink melon, and another one stuffed full of grapes. There was another empty cooler on the dock beside the first.

"If you don't like it," he said, "I'll take it back."

"No, no. The foulness is part of the charm. Reminds me of college." 

She put the can down and fiddled with the fishing pole again. There were a number of lures and bobbers attached to the line. She peered over the dock's edge, into the murky water of the pond.

"So it's eight-thirty on a Friday night," he said, popping open one of the cans, "and you're…fishing."

"Yep," she said. She cast the line, a little hesitantly, and not too far; it only landed about a dozen feet from the edge of the dock.

"Do fish even bite at night?"

"Willy claims that special fish bite at night. I'm going for the midnight carp."

"Midnight…carp," he repeated. "Never heard of it. You sure Willy isn't pulling your leg?"

She chuckled. "Name five fish."

"What?"

"Name five fish," she repeated. "I'll wait."

He shot her a glare; she stared back, one eyebrow cocked. "Salmon," he said. "Tuna. Catfish. Bass." For a moment, his mind went blank, stuck trying to load, but then it spat one more fish forth. "Regular carp."

This time, she snorted a little when she laughed. "Okay, fine. You know some fish after all. But just because you haven't heard of a midnight carp doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"Sure," he said.

She pointed at him. "You'll see. Give it a couple of hours, and I'll have one to show you."

"A couple of hours?"

"What, you got places to be? Very important things to do?"

"It's just a lot of waiting."

"That's why I brought snacks," she said. "And flagged you down, so I'd have company."

She peered out at the line. She didn't give him a significant look, or anything. To him, though, it was significant. There weren't very many people in this town who would flag him down just for the pleasure of his presence—exactly as he'd intended. Emily was nice, but she was nice to everybody. Penny talked to him once in a while, about how Jas was doing in school. But he hadn't made any overtures to the people here when he'd arrived, and they'd steered clear of him, too.

He didn't want to be known. He didn't want to be doing…this, this exact thing he was doing right now. He wanted to be left alone. He deserved to be left alone.

But he didn't get up and leave. He told himself he would, told himself to do it, but none of his limbs moved, except to bring the beer up to his mouth to take a deep drink.

It would be worse later. That was the thing that he knew to be true. If he accepted these couple of hours of companionship now, it would open the seal on all the adjacent memories he was struggling to keep contained. He was too weak to keep a lid on that, and too weak to walk away now.

"You okay?" Lydia asked, like she'd seen some shadow of these thoughts on his face—or like she was thinking about the last time they'd shared a drink on this dock, and all the stupid shit he'd said, the festering wound he'd let out to breathe.

He wasn't going to bring that up again. He couldn't completely shrug her off, either. She had a habit of digging if the brush-off was too interesting. 

He tried a decoy. "I just gave forty more hours of my life to Joja, so," he said. "Not exactly jumping for joy."

"Ugh." She pulled a face. "Morris was in Pierre's again the other day, waving around his little coupons, luring shoppers away. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not over the moon about Pierre's prices, but it's just so underhanded."

"You think that's bad, you should see him when he really gets into it with Lewis," Shane said. "He's going to wear him down eventually. Lewis is actually a human person, even if he takes his job way too seriously. Morris is a JojaCaf-fueled robot. He'll never give up."

Lydia laughed. "Does he hook himself up to a coffee IV in his office? Is that why his voice is always so loud?"

Shane found himself laughing, too. Not hard, not at all. But some kind of sound of mirth did come out of his face. It sounded rusty and unpracticed, and it was instantly followed by guilt. But the image she'd conjured stuck with him, regardless.

"He might never give up," Lydia said, unearthing one of the sandwiches from the cooler, "but Lewis is more dug in than you think. As long as nobody else buys a membership, Lewis won't sell the community center."

"Everybody else in town must have one already. Except Pierre's family, I guess." He looked at the mulish set of Lydia's mouth. "And you. Of course."

She huffed. "Yes, of course. I burned my membership card when I quit. I'm not about to go crawling back now!"

"No, you're too proud for that," he said, for all the world like he knew her.

"Thank you for recognizing the truth," she said, nose in the air, all dignified, and grinned.

The longer he knew her, the more he recognized the differences between her and his dead best friend. Patrick would have been a little bit more of an asshole about his comment; he hadn't liked being accused of being too proud, too stubborn. Lydia brushed that kind of thing off like it didn't matter to her.

Too late, he realized he'd allowed himself to open the can of worms he'd been trying to keep closed. It was a short step from thinking about Patrick to thinking about what Friday nights had once been like: pickup gridball after work; greasy takeout afterward that they brought home to share with Charlotte and Jas; games with the kid until she got tired, and then movies afterward, whatever dumb thriller was on cable, maybe something rented at the video store.

It had been so routine. It had been so fixed. For so long, they had only added, never subtracted: Shane and Patrick became Shane, Patrick and Charlotte; then became Shane, Patrick, Charlotte, and Jas.

"Something I said?" Lydia asked, in a more somber voice, cutting through the excruciating whirlwind of his thoughts.

He took another deep gulp of his beer. He'd overshared last time. He didn't want to do that again. He didn't want her, or anyone, to see how much he was suffering. He didn't want anyone to see him. He didn't completely understand why.

But she knew about Patrick and Charlotte already, something that couldn't be said of anybody else in the valley, except Marnie and Jas. What was he afraid of? Driving her away? Wouldn't that be for the best?

"Sort of," he said. "You just remind me of Jas's dad sometimes. Patrick. He was a huge goofball, too."

She snorted. "Thanks. I think."

"It's a…compliment."

"Thanks, then," she said. Still watching her fishing line, she asked, "What was he like?"

No one had asked him that, he realized. He hadn't given anyone the opportunity. In Pelican Town, only Marnie knew what had happened, and she tread on eggshells around the topic—afraid to set off Jas, afraid to set off him, in different ways.

He opened his mouth to say I'd better head home and instead a flood came out.

"He always had to be the funniest person in the room," he said. "And he usually was. It seemed like he had a thousand friends. He made connections with people so easily. Even back then, I wondered why he bothered with me." He took another drink from his beer, finishing off the can. "But eventually I realized he wasn't actually close with all those people. He was kind of a social chameleon. With me and Charlotte, though, he was just himself. Not perfect. But funny. Good at gridball. Good taste in movies, sucked at video games. Kind of a sore loser, but he'd make it up to you later—get your favorite takeout food for you without having to be asked, buy the next round, that kind of thing."

He crushed the can, willing himself to be silent.

"Sounds like he was a good friend," she said, and before he could tell her not to bother with stupid platitudes, she said, "but just to warn you, I'm great at video games. All games, actually. So you're not getting any easy apology takeout from me."

He laughed. It didn't sound as rusty and awful this time; it had been surprised out of him by the vague inappropriateness of her comment. Someone else might have taken offense. But Patrick had loved trash talk—just another way for him to run his mouth. 

"Sounds like something a sore loser would say," Shane said.

"You, me, Journey of the Prairie King," she said grimly. "We'll see who's—oh, shit!"

The line had gone taut. Hastily, Lydia fumbled for the fishing pole and started to reel the catch in. It fought her—Shane found himself holding his breath as she let out the line and reeled, let out the line and reeled—but eventually a strange purple fish flopped up on the dock, scales glistening.

"Midnight carp," Lydia said, breathless and triumphant, with a challenging look at Shane.

"You can be a sore winner, too, you know," he pointed out, but without any of his usual ire. He stared, incredulous, at the fish. It was beautiful, eerie, alien. It had a bioluminescence, a bizarre glow. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

It had been a while since he'd felt awed by anything.

"All right, pretty thing," Lydia said, and with a quick motion, pulled the hook from the carp's mouth. "Sorry about this—I'll make it quick."

Shane wasn't squeamish. He'd grown up visiting Marnie in the valley; he knew the necessities of country living. He still felt sad, though, when the bioluminescence faded from the fish, no matter how gently Lydia placed it in the empty cooler. It had been so strange and wonderful, and now it was dead.

"Shame," she said, softly, like she was thinking the same thing. "But…they're overpopulating this pond, Demetrius said. Better to curb that now, before there's any other consequences to deal with."

"Wonder what caused the overpopulation," Shane said.

"Demetrius didn't say," Lydia replied, but her eyes flicked over to look at the crooked tower to the west of the pond, the light high up toward the peak, glowing green, then blue, then purple. She clearly had a theory of her own. "Gus promised he had a recipe for these, though. They won't go to waste."

She reset the line, but Shane decided he'd had enough for the night; he got to his feet. In a way, he liked the odd melancholy that had overcome him in the last few moments—but he didn't want company for it.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked.

"You've seen one midnight carp, you've seen 'em all," he said. He reached into the cooler for his beer, tore two off the six-pack, and left them in the ice. "Tax paid. See you later."

"Thanks for stopping by," she said, and raised her beer to him as he turned away.

At the path, just when her lantern light was about to vanish behind the trees, he looked back. Her fishing pole was set; in the light of the lantern, he saw her rummage around in her backpack and pull out a book. With a last glance at the line, she opened the book to a point maybe a third of the way through and propped it in her lap, taking a sip of the beer he'd left her.

She'd brought her own entertainment to while away the hours. She'd flagged him down, anyway. She looked so complete, there at the end of the dock in the bubble of lantern light, one foot dangling down to dip her toes in the water—like she existed inside a snowglobe, frozen in time. Like he had never been there.

He thought, again, about the midnight carp, the glow to it, the incredible depth of its color. Patrick would've loved it. Less so the killing, but he could imagine the wild theories Patrick would've thrown around, the conspiracies about the wizard's tower. Shane could hear the crazy possibilities that Patrick and Lydia would have come up with together, like they were standing on either side of him, talking over him.

He had not imagined much of anything, lately. It made his throat ache, his eyes burn. But where had imagination gotten the midnight carp? It looked like magic, and yet, it died like any other fish.

He opened the next beer and took a deep drink, gathering up all of the thoughts that had escaped while he'd sat on that dock and putting them firmly away. He had two beers' worth of wandering left, and he wanted his head good and empty for the remainder of the night.

[mimaa16]

Hey Stardew Valley players! Can someone tell me why everyone hates Shane? Like, he’s actually so sweet and I’m really looking forward to how his relationship with the farmer develops! I think I just saw the 4-heart event and I loved it — it was super emotional and we get to see more of what he’s feeling, even if it’s really depressing.

Anyway, I’m a new player btw, and I honestly wasn’t expecting topics like alcoholism and depression in this game…

(also, I love Shane)

[ursulanoodles]

"Buh... Life."

[ashtheketchum]

A new family Part 9

A/N: I sat on this chapter for an incredibly long time because I had to look up all of Vi's text and then type it out completely (Picture from Pinterest!)

Warnings: Mention of death, mention of alcohol, slight panic attack

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

Masterlist!

_______________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

I just looked at (D/N) confused while she looked at Daryl with tears in her eyes. After thinking for a moment I understood what her problem was and I looked at Daryl too. He was drunk, but didn't behave the same as he did last night. He was aggressive, loud and didn't pay attention to anyone. "Honey…why are you on the floor…?" I then asked her. I placed my hand carefully on her shoulder, but she was still shaking badly. She couldn't say anything, was she in that much shock?

"It's better this way!" I heard Dr. Jenner suddenly speak up. I immediately stood up again and looked at the doctor. Rick spoke to him and asked him what would happen in 28 minutes. But the doctor didn't answer. "Doc, what happens in 28 minutes!" Shane shouted again, but this time the doctor didn't stay silent, he screamed loudly. “Do you actually know what this place is!?” Dr. Jenner looked around, but then his gaze settled on Rick. He had a mild panic attack, screamed loudly and eventually sat weakly on the chair.

We all remained silent for a moment before Jenner spoke again. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure, in a terrorist attack for example, HIT's are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out." That's all he said. "HIT's?" Rick came closer and closer to the doctor. Dr. Jenner remained silent for a moment, his gaze falling before he looked up and sighed quietly. “Vi, define.” He simply said. The computer voice was heard immediately and we all looked up.

,, HIT´s Definition: High-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosive consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosiveexcept nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen between 5.000 and 6.000 degrees and it is usefull when the greates loss of life and damage to structures is desired.“ Vi was finished with her definition.

I immediately pulled (D/N) towards me, she had slowly stood up again and I hugged her tightly. I looked around anxiously to see everyone else's reaction. Carol hugged Sophia tightly, Rick hugged Lori and Carol tightly, and the others stared into nothingness. Nobody knew how to react. "It sets the air on fire…" Murmured Dr. Jenner ultimately. Now I looked at him in shock. (D/N) had wiped away her tears and was now looking up at me. "No pain… a quick and painless death for all…" The doctor added. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. This scientist had lured us into a death trap and we couldn't escape.

Rick, Shane, Tdog, Glenn and Daryl tried to open those doors so we could get out. Lori, Carl, Carol, Sophia, (D/N) and I sat on chairs or the floor and we held each other tightly. However, (D/N) and I sat further away from the others. I wanted to calm her down first because she was still a little in shock. "Honey…please talk to me…" I then murmured quietly. (D/N) just stayed quiet but clutched my top. She had her face buried in my shoulder.

I sighed quietly and closed my eyes. "I don't want to die like this, mom…" But then she finally murmured. I jumped, startled, before wrapping my arms around her tighter. "You're not going to die here, sweetie…" "That's not what I meant…" Confused, I pushed her away slightly to look at her.

Her eyes looked down, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I don't care where I die or how I die… but I don't want to experience Daryl like Dad… I don't want to die with one last picture of him like that…" She finally spoke up. My heart was breaking and I felt tears welling up in me too. (D/N) looked at me slightly angry. "Daryl isn't like Dad… but I saw him like that just now…" My grip around her became a little tighter.

So Daryl had really scared her. Even if it wasn't intentional, I was right. (D/N) saw her old father in Daryl. The smell of alcohol, the bottle of alcohol in his hand, the aggressive behavior, everything. "He didn't mean it… Daryl is just scared…" I then tried to change her mind. But (D/N) looked at me even angrier and stood up.

She walked away, leaving me to sit alone on the floor. She slowly limped to Carl and Lori, who gently hugged her.

What did I just say? What had I done? Did I just defend a man from my daughter? Daryl had scared her, whether he wanted to or not, it wasn't right of him.

Meanwhile, Dr. Jenner is still trying to convince us to let it go. "You know it's for the best… it's a terrible life out there… if you die out there, it's painful…" Dr. Jenner looked at me. "Your husband died, right?" His question hit me and I opened my mouth. But I couldn't get anything out. Tears streamed down my cheeks, so I looked down and stayed quiet. "No." (D/N) suddenly spoke up.

We immediately looked at her in shock. She looked at Dr. Jenner angrily. "We killed my dad… we watched him die." Her words immediately made me jump and I ran towards her. "Don't say something like that, honey…" "But it's true! Dad wasn't good…! He should die, it was right!” Her words shocked me and I trembled violently. The doctor just remained silent before turning to the others. "The world changes us… until death…"

Now Shane and Daryl tried to open the door with axes. But she still didn't move. "These doors were built to withstand a rocket launcher…" Murmured Dr. Jenner briefly. Suddenly Daryl ran towards him, ax in hand. "But not your head!" We immediately saw Daryl swinging the axe. Shane, Dale and Tdog stopped Daryl, but he still fought back.

"Daryl, stop it! He’s the only one who can get us out of here!” I immediately screamed and I ran towards him to take the ax away from him. Daryl looked at me angrily for a moment before pointing to (D/N). “Do ya wan´ ta die here with the lil´ one?” “You don’t have anything to say about my daughter!” I just growled quietly. My words silenced him for a moment before he hissed, took the ax away from me and went back to the door. Breathing heavily, I watched him before turning to the doctor.

"You can't do that…! You can’t do this to us!” Carol whimpered loudly. "My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this!" "But there will be no pain… isn't it much better to hold your lovers while they can pass from this world without pain?" Dr. Jenner asked her then. "No! No it's not!" However, Carol cried out and hugged Sophia tighter.

It was quiet for a moment before we heard a gun being loaded. I immediately looked around in panic, Shane ran towards the doctor and pointed the gun at him. I ran to (D/N) and pushed her away from Shane, behind me. "Shane, don't! Stop it!" Rick and the others wanted to stop him. "Open those damn doors or I'll blow your head off!" Shane growled threateningly. The doctor looked at him unimpressed as the others tried to lure Shane away. Eventually, Shane fired wildly until Rick took the gun away from him and he lay on the ground.

We all stayed quiet again, I hugged (D/N) tightly to me. I breathed heavily and then looked down at (D/N). She just looked at Shane angrily but held onto my top. "Shane is crazy…" I heard her mutter quietly. Before I could react, Rick was talking to the doctor again. The doctor told us about his wife that she had achieved much more. He would have only continued because he promised her he would. "Let's try this as long as we can…" Lori just murmured quietly. The doctor looked at us briefly before walking to a table. "I said the doors would stay closed…" When he muttered this, I had given up all hope.

But suddenly the doors opened and Daryl called out to us. "Come on! Get out!" I immediately picked (D/N) up again and we ran to our rooms to go out. I didn't look behind me, not when people stopped, not when they spoke. I just wanted to get my daughter out of here.

Next Chapter ->

[love-patient-0s-writing-world]

Growing Fond

Shane x Reader

Class: SFW

Word Count: 1.6K

CW: Spoilers For Shane’s First Heart Event, This is Basically a more Detailed Version of the Heart Event, NB Reader, Alcohol, Extisential Dread, Reader is a bit Unhinged, Reader is refered to as Farmer, Mentions of Injuries

For Shane it was a normal boring routine day, he got up, went to work, stocked shelves until his hands were numb and is now being screeched at by his phone that it’s finally his lunch break. He let out a groan as he stood up from his crouched position, his back cracking loudly when he stood up straight. He made a bee line for the door not bothering to acknowledge Morris as he sped past him. He walked all the way to the saloon to find it pretty much empty aside from Gus, Emily, Pam and you. Pam was already 3 drinks in and you seemed to be busy ordering something, so he just made his way to his usual spot against the wall and waited. As he sat down he didn’t notice when your eyes flitted over at him and returned back to Gus quickly adding one more item to your order. When you were done you took your time walking over to him, he looked up and saw a small smile on your face as you waved at him. “This seat taken?” you asked nodding your head at the empty stool. “Nope.” he said popping the p, he didn’t necessarily dislike you but he didnt want to spend his lunch break with you either. You sat down with a sigh leaning your head on your hand as you look at him “So how’s your day been so far Shane?” “Same as always, anyways what are you doing here? Don’t you have crops to take care of?” it came out much more annoyed and rough than he wanted but he’s too tired to correct it.

 Before you could answer Gus came up with 4 cups of a coffee and a small pizza, before Shane could ask Gus for the usual the man sped off to the other side of the bar where Pam is. He raised an eyebrow at your...questionable lunch, although he doesn’t have any room to speak regarding your diet since his looked frighteningly similar. “Ah, well, I’m heading to the mine after this and-” you said pulling a plain silver thermos out of your bag “-I don’t want to run out of energy immediately so...” you opened the bottle and started pouring the coffee into it not spilling a drop from any of the cups. He could feel the terror that flashed on his face before he tried to go back to the usual RBF he has. “That can’t be healthy…well at least you’re getting some solid food in.” He eyed the personal pizza that sat in front of you, “Oh! Uhh…” You looked away from him with a soft chuckle “I actually got the pizza for you.” A nervous smile forced it’s way to face as you try to figure out what to say next. “I know today’s your birthday so I thought I’d get ya lunch…” His head cocked the side slightly “Oh, is it my birthday today?” He looked down at his phone to see Spring 20 on the lock screen “I guess it is, thanks.” He looked up at you with a small smile “This is nice.” “Well I’m glad you like it!” You slide the box in front of him and after he takes a couple bites from the pizza you got him you turn towards him, “I should probably get going-” you hop off the stool next to his with ease “Bye Shane, have a happy birthday!” Your smile makes him almost sad to be alone again…almost. “See ya, Farmer.”

He watched you walk out the Saloon door, he finished the pizza in a few minutes and let out a sigh as he looked at the time. Sliding off the stool he walked out of the Saloon back to his miserable job. The day blurred by restocking the same shelves that he wished he could watch burn to the ground, when his shift ended he picked up a pack of beers before heading home. The night air was crisp and the temperature was not…uncomfortably warm, so he walked out to the pier on the property and plopped down with his pack next to him. He was about 2 cans in when he heard the creak of the old wood planks behind him and footsteps approaching, stopping when they reached him. When he looked to his side he saw grimy boots covered in mud, slime and…insect remains, well there was worst company to have than you. “Up late, huh?” “Actually just got back from the mines.” Letting out a tired chuckle as if it was hilarious that you spent 10 hours underground. As he turned up to halfheartedly scold you for your life decisions, he got a glimpse of the arm and hand closest to him. Cuts ranging from little scratches to a freshly stitched up gash on your bicep, large welts that resemble…bug bites, and bruises of all colors are splattered across it. He no longer had the will to tell you off, “Here, have a cold one.” He extended the can to you, feeling your calloused fingers brush against his as you grabbed it.

Taking the beer as an invite to stay for awhile you take a seat next to him. You’re much closer than either of you expected, shoulders pressing against each other. He watched you a bit as you fiddled with the little metal tab, after a couple minutes of insect chirps he lets out a sigh. You tilted your head at him and he just responds with a bitter “Buh…life.” Maybe it was the beer or the comfortably uncomfortable silence that made him speak without thinking, “You ever feel like…no matter what you do, you’re gonna fail? …Like you’re stuck in some miserable abyss and you’re so deep you can’t even see the light of day?” He could feel your eyes burrowing into the side of his head, but he kept staring straight into the darkness of the lake beneath you both. “I just feel like no matter how hard I try…I’m not strong enough to climb out of that hole.” He can see your head turn forward in his peripheral, taking the opportunity to actually look at you. Your body was tense and face wearing an expression he knows all too well, a mixture of existential dread and tiredness. In the silence that settled over you two the crack of the tab finally breaking the aluminum can was heard. He watched as you brought it up to your lips and tilt your head back, hearing your big gulps of the icy beer until you finally crush the can in your hand. Maybe it’s the beer buzzing in his system but the way you’re lightly panting and the expert chugging had him feeling…funny. You looked over at him and mumbled a little “Sorry.” 

He felt the corners of his mouth curl up a bit “Heh…fast drinker, huh? A person after my own heart.” You could feel your face warm up a bit at his flirty joke. “Just don’t make it a habit…you got a future ahead of you still.” There was such a soft undertone of sincerity that it caught you a bit off guard, you watched as he finished his can of beer placing it next to your crushed one. “Welp…my liver is beggin’ me to stop. Better call it a night.” You got up wobbling a bit, man are your legs and arms sore from today. Shane grabbed the empty cans placing them in the plastic bag the pack came from, you watch as he grunted to get up on his knees, without hesitation you extended a hand to help him up. He stared at it for a few moments before taking it, you pulled him up towards you with ease, his hands were warm and a bit sweaty along with his his now slightly red cheeks it was something that nestled into your brain without realization. You reluctantly let go of his hand opting to shove them in your pockets, “I’ll walk you to your house…it’s on the way to mine.” Despite the fact the house he shared was visible from the dock he wasn’t opposed to having your company a little while longer. The grass crunched under your shoes as you walked with him, reaching the trash can that sat right outside the front door he dumped the bag with the empty cans. 

“This was nice, thanks for the beer and the company.” Your smile was well visible due to the house lights shining right outside the front door. “I’m heading home now, I’ll see you tomorrow, Shane!” You waved as you started walking off, “See you around, Farmer.” Returning the wave as he walked into the house, without thinking he stood by the window and watched you dissapear down the path that connects the two properties. He slowly walks to his room attempting not to wake anyone else in the house, sliding into his room he softly closed the door and let out a sigh. He faceplanted onto his bed feeling the effects of the day and beers crash on him, his mind drifted from the shelves of the market, the few ‘Happy Birthdays’ he recieved and finally landed on you. He let his thoughts linger, marinating in the details his slightly hazey brain grasped onto. The callouses developing on your hands, the scars forming on your arms and the way that you lifted him like he was a feather...he could feel his face heating up again like before, ‘I need to stop...but I guess there are worst ways to spend my birthday?’ Getting up he kicked off his shoes, lazily changing into a T-shirt and shorts. Crawling back into bed he closed his eyes and let himself indulge the thoughts his sober brain would’ve shot down immediately. The best gift he’s getting today is from himself and it’s a good night’s sleep.

I hope you enjoyed reading this! Remember to drink water, eat something and get plenty of rest! Feel free to return whenever you want traveler, take care!💜

~Love Patient 0

[art-but-only-sometimes]

Stardew Valley 20 Heart Event Headcanons pt. 4!

Alex!

🏈 12-heart event: Alex sees you in town and asks if you want to go see a movie at the movie theatre with him. You meet him at the movie theatre at 7pm and you two go in and see a movie. You see whatever is in the theatre at the time. You sit and enjoy the movie, he puts his arm around you. In the middle of the movie, he kisses you.

🏈 14-heart event: Alex has never seen your farm and he wants to help out. (By that I mean lifting heavy things and showing off.) Alex comes over at around 8 a.m. You already did some of the work but he'd still like to help. He helps you lift haybales and put hay into the silo. He helps you move crops and helps you with some of your animals. (a chicken lands on his head.) You both sit down at the end with some drinks. Alex says he had a good time, he really enjoyed spending time with you today. You're always so busy farming and working that he doesn't always get to see you. The next thing to do is take the rest of the crops into town and sell them at Pierre's. Alex helps you grab some of the crops, but before he goes he gives you a kiss. Then runs for the town, he's decided he wants to race you to the store.

🏈 16-heart event: You go into town to see Alex talking to someone. You wait for Alex to finish his conversation and head over afterward. You ask Alex who that was and he says that was a talent agent. He has been looking for people to try out for the Zuzu City Tunnelers! Alex is so excited but also seems a bit nervous. Two dialogue prompts pop up (don't be you'll do great!/You put in so much practice, as long as you remember that you'll do just fine.) He responds and says that you're right, hugs you, and goes off to practice.

🏈 18 heart event~ Part 1: Be at the farm between 2 and 4 pm. Alex is waiting there for you. He says he went to the tryouts and all went well from what he could tell. He hopes everything went well but he's still nervous about all the things he might have done wrong. (Stop worrying about the small things, I'm sure you did great!/ well at least you tried, it's better than not trying at all.) Either way, Alex is glad he talked to you.

Part 2: be at Alex's house between noon and 2 pm. Alex is glad to see you, he says he's waiting to get a phone call from the recruitment agent. The agent calls and Alex listens carefully. He doesn't say anything at first but then he says he got into the team. He's so happy he hugs and kisses you. He then runs out of his room to tell his grandparents about how he got the position on the team. They are also very excited/happy for him.

🐚 ~ Marriage~ 🐚

🏈 20 Heart Event: It's time for Alex to play with the Tunnelers! A bunch of people from stardew get on the bus to cheer him on, you included of course. The game goes great and the Tunnelers win! Everyone is on the sidelines cheering. He sees you afterward and gives you a big hug. He's so happy that you won and he's even happier that you're here. He kisses you on the field sidelines as everyone cheers and confetti goes off from above.

(I never really 100% like the idea that Alex just abandoned his dream of playing grid ball so included it in my headcannon)

Elliott 🪶/ Sam 🎸/ Sebastian🎮 / Alex 🏈/ Shane 🍕/ Harvey✈️ Maru 🤖/ Haley 📷/ Leah 🎨/ Abigail ⚔️ / Penny 📖 / Emily 🧵

[novathesillylittleguy]

Tw: suicide/suicidal ideation

I just read the response dialogue on every option during his six heart event and I’m glad the last one is the only somewhat positive response. As someone who’s felt like that in the past, all the other options just feel wrong. I’m going to cover why individually.

1 response: Because there's so much to live for!

Not particularly useful. Even if there is, it’s really hard to see in that state of mind.

2 response: Jas needs you. You're like a father to her.

While this might seem useful, it’s somewhat counter productive. It reminds them that they’re hurting people and makes them feel worse, therefore making them feel worse, and adds another thought to the reason they don’t want to live

3 response: It would be a sin.

For the love of god don’t say this. You’re making their struggles sound like they’re doing something evil when they need help. And that’s not to mention that in game Shane is an atheist.

4 response: The decision is your own. Just know that I'm here for you.

Is this the correct response for everyone? No. However, out of the options available, I do believe it’s the best one. It doesn’t try and say it will get better, it doesn’t talk about how you’re hurting someone, it doesn’t say you’re doing something evil. It’s telling the person that you’re there for them. That you’re willing to help.

In conclusion : I’ve thought way too much about this

[sdv-confessions]

I agree with 🍰 anon, combat-wise Ice Rod has to be my favorite because flying enemies are annoying to take out even with a club weapon

But my personal favorite is the parrot simply because it follows you in heart events and even the perfection cutscene and randomly squawks during the most serious moments ever (I died laughing when it started screeching over Shane venting to my character)

(Also dangerous mines levels 51-69 + Monster Musk + Club weapon + Burglar’s ring is genuinely so satisfying with a level 4 parrot regardless of how much money it makes even though it’s around 50k-100k per dive)

- 🍓

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