#been tossing them from fandom to fandom for a while in my head. Stardew feels appropriate enough for them to take residence i think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fandom-imagines · 3 years

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List of firsts - SDV Shane

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Pairing: Shane X Reader

Warnings: Mentioned under the sections that need warnings!

Contains: First kiss, first date, first "I love you" and first time (NSFW)

Words: 1.2k altogether

Note: I wanna start doing these for multiple characters so you might see more of these on my blog :P

First Date:

· You both decided that your first date was actually something that happened before the two of you actually knew you liked each other.

· It wasn’t an official date, but it was decided to be your first date later on into your relationship.

· You both took a long walk across Pelican Towns local beach.

· It was warm, both of you wearing less clothing than usual due to the hot weather.

· You didn’t know this, but Shane wanted to hold your hand as you both walked.

· You both thought the other was beautiful, which is true.

· The walk on the beach turned to watching the sunset on the docks, feet dipping into the water.

· Somehow, you managed to convince Shane to jump into the water with you, the two of you ending up having a splash fight in the water.

· That was until Shane grasped both you arms, tugging you into his bare chest as he attempted to stop you flinging water at him.

· Once you both realised how close you were, blushing commended.

· Shane ended your fight with a kiss on the head.

First Kiss:

· The pair of you were chilling on Shane’s bed watching some random film he had put on.

· This happened before you were officially together, but this was a regular occurrence.

· It happened during a kiss scene.

· You guys were idly watching the lovers-to-be argue when the guy grasped her arm, tugging her face to his own in a passionate kiss.

· “I wish someone would kiss me like that,” your words weren’t supposed to be a hint, it was just a random comment.

· Shane blushed, the thought of kissing you flying through his head.

· “I can kiss you like that,” the sentence left his mouth before he could stop it.

· He was extremely embarrassed and worried you would find him weird and wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore.

· Blushing, you turned to face him.

· “You can if you want too,”

· That was the boldest you had ever felt.

· Shane’s eyes glanced down at your lips, you doing the same.

· His hand reached up to your cheek, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

· You could feel him entangle his hand in your hair to pull you closer.

· Your own hand moved to his chest, hand lightly gripping his t-shirt whilst you kissed back.

· It was a kiss that left you both breathless and blushing.

First time saying “I love you”:

· You were both playing in the beach water on a hot day, much like your first date.

· Shane and you were together now, had been for a few months.

· A giggle left your lips as you ran away from Shane who was chasing you, a soft squeal sounding from you when he finally caught you, his naked chest pressed against your back.

· “Let go of me!” You laughed, something that brought a smile to Shane’s face, his grip tightening.

· “Meanie,” you huffed when you realised you weren’t getting away from him.

· “I love you,” Shane said without thinking.

· The way your body froze made him panic, his grip on your fading as his arms dropped to his sides.

· “You… love me?” You asked, turning to face him.

· “I-yeah…”

· He had no idea what to say, and neither did you.

· “I love you too,” you smiled, enjoying the way he smiled back at you brightly, wrapping you in a hug, neither of you caring about the fact that you were getting incredibly wet.

· All that mattered was that you were there, together, and that you loved each other.

First Time (NSFW):

· Your first time happened the same place as your first kiss.

· Marnie was visiting friends and Jas was staying over with Vincent so Shane invited you to stay over.

· It was completely innocent, he just wanted to spend time with you in private, so people couldn’t interrupt you.

· However, at some point during the time you were there, you guys ended up making out.

· Shane was on top of you, hands pressed either side of your head whilst his tongue battled yours.

· One of your hands was on his shoulder, whilst the other was wrapped in his hair.

· It wasn’t hard to feel Shane’s erection pressed against your thigh, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

· Deciding to test the waters, you ran your hand down his chest, towards his growing erection.

· Shane froze, unsure of what to do.

· “Is this okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure it was okay for you to touch him before actually doing so.

· He nodded, both of you panting from your makeout session.

· So your hand slipped into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, tugging them down his legs before he kicked them to the ground.

· His lips travelled to your neck, placing gentle kisses as your hand freed him from his tight boxers, erection covered with precum.

· Your hand wrapped around his length, slowly jerking him to his release, enjoying the way he moaned your name quietly into your neck.

· His legs began to shake, his moans becoming more frequent as he neared his orgasm, that was when he asked you to stop.

· You went to apologise, worrying you had crossed a line, but he silenced you with a kiss.

· “I just think it’s unfair if you don’t get anything,” he smiled sweetly, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

· His hands slowly travelled to the hem of your shirt, glancing up at you for permission to remove it, which he got.

· Before you knew it, the pair of you were naked on his bed, the cool air hitting your bare bodies.

· “Are you ready?” Shane asked, length pressed against your core.

· You wordlessly nodded.

· So he pushed into you, giving you a moment to adjust until you let him know he could move.

· He had never actually had a girlfriend this serious before, so he’s quite inexperienced, something he apologised for before this all happened.

· “You can move,”

· Shane pressed a soft kiss to your lips as he began to slowly move inside you

· The soft moans that left your lips only made him harder, his pace increasing, but not fast enough to hurt you.

· He asks “are you okay?” a lot.

· Once he was certain you were okay, he began to move quicker than before, chasing both your releases.

· His head rested in the crook of your neck, hand stroking your hair whilst he whispered praises about how pretty you are, and how good you make him feel whilst you do exactly the same.

· Your praises to each other simply make it feel even better.

· “I’m close,” you moan into his ear.

· Shane’s hand moves down to rub your clit, something he had seen in porn, not that he’d ever admit that to you though.

· His movement speeds up, helping you both climax.

· Once you did, it felt like heaven.

· He waited for a while, breathlessly pulling himself out from you, tossing the used condom into the trashcan before laying beside you.

· He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling him against himself.

· “I love you,” he’d whisper numerous times whilst he would stroke your hair, something he enjoyed doing.

· “I love you too,”

· You both lay there whispering sweet nothings to each other until you fell asleep in a warm embrace.

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amberskywrites · 4 years

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A Perfect Match

Requested by @tina0555! This was incredibly fun to do, and I hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link || Masterpost

Pairing: Abigail/Farmer (No gender specified for farmer)

Fandom / Genre: Stardew Valley / Fluff

Summary: You return your gaze to the hills flashing by, fiddling with your half of a soul charm idly as you let your mind wander. Things already looked much more peaceful here, and when you spotted a sign saying it was only half a mile to Stardew Valley, well, you couldn't help the excitement that started to bubble in your heart.

Who knows, maybe you'd find that other half here.

-------------------

You stare at the charm resting comfortably on your chest as the hours drag by. You weren't sure what you were getting yourself into, going to Stardew Valley, but you dearly hoped it'd be a much better experience than working at Joja. It had never occurred to you that Grandpa had a farm this far from the city- yoba, you never expected him to have a farm at all.

But you were glad that it was now yours. A remote place and a fresh start seemed to be something you desperately needed.

You return your gaze to the hills flashing by, fiddling with your half of a soul charm idly as you let your mind wander. Things already looked much more peaceful here, and when you spotted a sign saying it was only half a mile to Stardew Valley, well, you couldn't help the excitement that started to bubble in your heart.

Who knows, maybe you'd find that other half here.

Your first year in the valley was… an experience. Grandpa's farm had been closer to the mountains than you had been expecting, and you focused mostly on clearing the farm and growing crops. You had met everyone, got into some arguments with the local drunk because of his attitude, and hung around Linus or Willy in your off times when you were tired but it was still too early to sleep. You'd explore the mines on rainy days, and the further you went the more interesting things you found.

Abigail really liked the gems you would find. She was almost as excited as you when you had found a particularly sparkly amethyst! You saved it for her birthday, and she loved it. She was surprised you had even remembered her birthday.

You also got to know Marnie and Robin really well, constantly stopping by to buy a new farm building or supplies for a few of your new animals. Sam and Sebastian also became close friends, especially after you took interest in the band they were starting up.

Around winter, you didn't feel like much of an outsider anymore. Though you spent a lot of time in the mines during the frigid weather, you made sure on Fridays to stop by the Stardrop Saloon. After buying Sam a pizza and handing Sebastian another frozen tear you found, you'd give Abigail quartz, which she'd eat despite you telling her it wasn't good for her.

She'd laugh at your concern as you settle on the small couch beside her, watching the boys play pool and Sam once again having his butt kicked by Sebastian. Abigail talked mostly, complained about all the work she had to do over the weekend. But also some of her plans to go hang out in the forest near Marnie's.

Winter was also the season that you remembered your soul charm, often hidden under your shirt. You had been quite busy, and the only reminder you had a soulmate at all was whenever Alex made a comment about not knowing if he wanted to meet his, or Marnie mentioning how disappointing it was that Lewis wasn't hers despite them feeling like soulmates. Marnie only really talked about soulmates when she was really, really drunk though.

Jodi had her soulmate, a soldier named Kent. You were told he should be coming home soon… you couldn't wait to meet him, after hearing Vincent sounding so excited whenever his father was brought up. And… Jodi and Caroline seemed to be the only two with their soulmates, though Caroline talked less about Pierre unless it was to complain about how he worked too much. Willy claimed he had tossed his charm into the sea, Linus didn't have one for some reason either. Marlon refused to tell you about his when you asked one day, buying a new glow ring since your last one had gone missing. You hadn't asked anyone else about their soulmates. It seemed a bit too personal when you weren't great friends with too many people yet.

Time flew by in your second year, too. You were even busier tending to more crops, going deeper in the mines, and caring for your animals. You also grew much closer to Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian, occasionally joining them to watch them practice when you weren't working or playing the harp with Abigail during the warmer seasons in the mountain.

An autumn one night as you were leaving the beach, you caught Abigail in the graveyard. After chatting for a few moments and showing her the one you always kept with you, in case of monsters, Pierre appeared to tell Abigail Caroline wanted her to help with dinner. You ran after her when she fled the scene and continued to talk about the mines and all the creatures you've encountered. You leave out the fact that you actually kill them.

And the year ends, almost as quickly as the first.

Spring in your third year shook you a bit when Grandpa appeared, evaluating your work and achievements over the last two years. He didn't seem too impressed, which put a damper on your mood at the start of the season.

What did improve your mood though was when one morning you woke up and found a letter from Abigail in your mailbox. Your heart skipped a beat as you read and saw she signed it as 'Abby', something you thought adorable, and you made a mental note to visit her later.

Over the last two years, you had gotten particularly close to Abigail. You loved listening to her talk, enjoyed seeing her eyes dance in excitement as you presented a jewel to her, or told her about one of your adventures… you ended up making it a habit to stop by and say hello when she was in her room, but it'd been a while since you visited her. There was an extra bounce in your step as you got to work.

After a long day of tending to the farm and sparing a trip to the beach to fish, you had almost forgotten to visit Abigail until you saw the letter on your table. You made your way to Pierre's store and walked in just before it was gonna close, and grinned as Abigail pulled you into her room.

She shows off the spirit board she has, and you listen to her explain the multitude of things on it. It isn't until you ask about a certain message - one with some things you can't really read from your place but you do see a drawing of a circle cracked down the middle, lines swirling together from both sides, half of it you think you recognize - and her face flushes a deep red and her words start to fumble until she just rushes you out, bidding you goodnight. You blink as the door to her room slams closed and glance around. Neither of her parents seemed to be around, and you notice it's gotten late, so you make your way home, still confused about what all that was about.

You were about to start on your chores when you were startled by Abigail on your doorstep. She apologized for the night before, and you're still very confused and reassure her it's alright but you don't know if she heard you since she left the farm as soon as she apologized.

It isn't until you're done with feeding your animals and watering your crops do you realize what the drawing on the spirit board was. And why you pointed out that message in particular.

Trying to remember the drawing to the best of your ability, you look down at the charm around your neck. You curse under your breath as you quickly put away your tools and run down the path to Pierre's store. You're pretty sure Abigail will be there, but first you think you should buy something, so you hope Abigail is at least in her room.

Even if your charms didn't match, didn't fit together perfectly… you don't really care. You hoped you weren't jumping to conclusions as you caught your breath, walking into Pierre's store and walking right up to the business man. You smiled as usual, but kept your voice down.

"Is Abigail here?" You ask, and Pierre shakes his head.

"Up by Robin's, I believe. Why, if I may ask?"

You shake your head. "No reason, just... wanted her input on something." You grab some money from your pocket, and lay it on the counter. "But I also wanted to buy something."

After buying what you wanted from Pierre, you force yourself not to rush to the mountain lake where you were told Abigail would be. Looking at your watch, you guessed she was playing her flute, or maybe just sitting under one of the trees.

And once you get there, your mouth runs dry as you approach the purple-haired girl, lost in her own world as she plays her instrument. You take a deep breath, and smile as you tap her shoulder, one hand kept behind your back.

She seems startled, but relaxes as soon as her thoughts catch up and she smiles gently. "Sorry, I didn't expect to see you today. You don't usually come up here on Wednesdays…"

You shrug. "I wanted to talk to you, about what I saw yesterday. And I wanted to ask you something." You watch as her face dusts crimson again, and she doesn't meet your eyes. "I'll leave if you don't want to talk about it, though. And I won't bring it up again if you're uncomfortable with me doing so."

She fiddles with the flute in her hands, playing a silent song with it, maybe to calm any nerves. Abigail had been hoping you wouldn't pursue the topic. But she should've guessed you'd want to talk about it.

"... Alright."

You smile reassuringly, even though you know she isn't watching you. "You doodled our soul charms together, that's what that message was about." Abigail nods.

"I forgot I had it up there, until you pointed it out." She exhales slowly, finally meets your eyes and she relaxes when she finds no disgust in them. "I've done it before, a few times only though, with small crushes on the kids in school… they never ended up being my soulmate, though. So I stopped checking, but still doodled soul charms with mine anyway."

"So, you have a crush on me?" You ask, smile never faltering, your grip on the object behind you tightening just a bit more.

Her face turns a slightly deeper shade of red, and she nods.

"Then, do you want to try dating?"

Abigail's brows furrow, and she's about to ask what you mean until there's a bouquet in front of her. She recognizes it instantly, having helped her father put the bouquet together, and she stumbles over her words for a moment.

"But- but what about our- the charms? You don't want to see if they match?"

You shrug. "If you want, we can definitely see. But even if we weren't soulmates, I would wanna try dating."

Abigail stares at you in silence for a moment, mouth agape as she tries to think of what she wants to say. "But what about our actual soulmates, then?" She asks finally.

"People don't always get together with their soulmate. I mean, just look at Sebastian's parents."

She seems like she's about to say something against that, but changes her mind, and finally, Abigail nods. "Alright."

You brighten a bit. "You'd like to go out?"

Abigail nods again, smile widening as you pass her the flowers and she holds them to her chest. "You picked out one of my favorites."

"Yeah, it was hard getting your dad to stop talking about which ones were the best to try and see if you had told him which ones you liked most." She laughs at that, nodding in understanding. When her laughter dies down, you tilt your head and tap where your soul charm is. "Do you want to see if they match?"

Abigail stares at the charm resting on your chest for a moment before she reaches towards her own, tugging it out from under her shirt and she nods, holding it up. You step close and bring yours up to meet hers.

They fit together perfectly.

#Stardew valley #sdv #sdv abigail #Abigail/player #Abigail/farmer #sdv farmer #sdv player #fanfic #soulmate au #fluff #alternate universe #amberskywrites #ambersky

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todisturbtheuniverse · 5 years

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FIC: Green Sauce

Rating: T Fandom: Stardew Valley Pairing: Shane/Female Farmer Tags: Pre-Relationship, Pre-Friendship, First Meeting Word Count: 3100 Summary: Routine is the only thing keeping Shane staggering forward. Interruptions threaten what little momentum he has, and there's no interruption worse than a gregarious farmer. Also on AO3.

Shane’s head throbbed, and the grinding noise that the conveyor belt had started making two hours ago wasn’t helping. It seemed to only be getting louder, though the belt itself churned onward, pushing box after box toward him, relentless.

It hadn’t slowed. It would never slow. So long as there was a truck attached to one end of it, it would never stop. He had been in this room damn nearly daily over the last two years, and never once had he seen the belt shut down. The back room was always filled with the soft whir of its movement. Forging onward.

Despite the pounding in his head, and the vague taste of alcohol at the back of his throat, and the nausea churning in his stomach, he moved around the conveyor belt in practiced motions. He could do this in his sleep, now. The belt did the hard work of reading and sorting for him; all he had to do was replace the bins when they got full, and take whatever product was in them out to the floor to stock.

Someday, Joja would dispense of his manual labor entirely. They would run conveyor belts through the entirety of their stores. Tiny, agile, metal arms would emerge at the appropriate point to drop products onto shelves. No humans would touch anything made by Joja.

That fleeting vision felt like a fever dream—or maybe just an inebriated one. It faded as quickly as his mind's eye had provided it, replaced once again by the ache in his head.

He was just about to take a cart full of Joja-Os—and other variations of cookies, crackers, and cereal, all with Joja somehow worked into the name—when the conveyor belt let out an unexpected, unwieldy clunk and jolted to a stop.

He stared at it, waiting. This had to be just a momentary hitch; it would move again any moment. But seconds passed, more and more of them, and the belt didn't move. It felt as if the entire world had jerked to a halt, stopped rotating; that was how unlikely the conveyor belt’s demise seemed.

Then, from far away, all the way at the loading dock at the other end of the warehouse, a voice shouted, “Hey! We’re going to get behind schedule!”

He considered—strongly—the merits of continuing out to the floor. Letting the next person who walked into the back room deal with the problem. Maybe it would be Sam. Maybe it would be Morris. Shane would love to see that greasy face contorted with horror at his precious productivity thwarted.

But if anyone found out he’d just walked away from a problem—well, he doubted he’d get fired, but it wouldn’t look good for him. He couldn’t afford to look bad.

No matter how much his head was killing him.

He cleared the worst of the rasp from his throat and called back, “Something’s wrong with the belt. I’ll take a look.”

He left the cart by the door and went to examine the spot where that last, resounding clunk had originated.

“Hurry up,” the driver urged. “If I’m late to my next stop...”

“Cool it,” Shane muttered, not loud enough to be heard. He thought he could see the problem. Something had gotten caught in the mechanism—judging by the cardboard shreds littering the gears, it was one of those pre-packaged dinners or burritos or something. He peered through the mess and located exactly that: some kind of small, cardboard box, wedged deep.

He began to reach in to try to tug it out, but before his hand could get really deep in the guts of the machine, he pulled it out. As far as he knew, as soon as he loosened it at all, the mechanism would grind back to life—and grind his fingers up in the process.

“You know how to turn this thing off?” Shane called, looking around for an obvious switch.

A face appeared in the back of the truck. It came as a shock, seeing as it was kind of like looking in a mirror: the same ill-fitting uniform, the same uneven five o’clock shadow, the same dark circles under the eyes. The driver’s hair color was hidden under his cap, and Shane knew, logically, that there were obvious differences—the shape of the nose, the set of the eyes—but he saw in the graying stubble exactly what fifteen, twenty more years working for Joja would do to him.

If he had a grave, someone had just walked over it.

“It doesn’t turn off,” the driver said. There was a wildness about his eyes, a frantic desperation to move this along. “They never turn off.”

Shane glanced around again, looking for something that could help. The shelves back here were littered with all kinds of things...aha. There. A battered old toolbox sitting back on one of the shelves, dingy red, forgotten. He opened it up and dug around inside. The faint smell of oil wafted up from within; he fought down a gag, swallowing hard, and came up with a sufficiently sized wrench.

If he jammed it in the gears, he could get the cardboard thing out without getting his hand caught.

“I hope,” he muttered, returning to the mechanism and kneeling down beside it. Raising his voice, he said, “You think this thing can cut through metal?”

“Maybe?” the driver replied. “Seen these things cut through all kinds of stuff. Can’t believe anything made it stop.”

Shane wedged the wrench into the mechanism, reached a hand behind it, and began to pull at the little box. As pieces came free, the gears shifted. Groaned. Tried to move, straining against the wrench that now bound them. He worked at the box, beginning to sweat. Much as he’d love to take a settlement from Joja—it would probably be decent—he also wanted the continued use of his hand. With all fingers intact.

Finally, the box came fully free. There was an anxious instant as Shane pulled it from the bowels of the machine as quickly as he could, while the gears strained against one another, churning toward his vulnerable fingers—and then his hand and the box were both out, and some kind of green sauce was leaking from the pulverized food item all over his hand. The wrench continued to hold the gears in place, but the whole contraption squealed in outrage.

With a quick pull, Shane reclaimed the wrench. It had been dented by the gears.

This whole place was about a hundred time more dangerous than he’d believed.

Returning to the old, quiet whirring, the conveyor belt jolted back to life. Boxes began to move. The driver yelped and scrambled out of the way before he could be mowed down by a stack of six-packs.

On the dirty floor of the warehouse, Shane managed a grim, amused smile. His allotment for the day. His ounce of flesh, taken, somehow, from Joja.

“You’re welcome,” he called, as the driver scrambled back to his seat without so much as a thank you, and got up to toss the green-sauce-leaking-box into the trash. Plenty of spoiled food in there already. More wouldn’t even be noticed.

All this commotion, and Morris hadn’t even come to see what was going on. Probably for the best, but Shane couldn’t help but feel a pang of resentment. If Morris didn’t even care about his precious machine—if he wasn’t even going to notice—then why should Shane?

He glanced at the old, schoolroom-esque clock hanging on the back wall. It didn’t matter, really. It was finally time for him to leave.

He washed the weird green sauce off his hands, stepped into the employee locker room—little more than a bank of decrepit lockers and a cracked tile floor with a bench he didn’t dare sit on—and changed out of the ill-fitting uniform. Hunching into his sweatshirt, he slouched out the back door, all the better to avoid Morris.

The grassy, early-evening scent of the valley hit him, hard enough to ramp up his nausea a little before it faded back again. It was better than that oil smell from the toolbox, at least. Better than the weird green sauce and all the other spoiled food scents that filled the Joja warehouse. He breathed deep, steadying himself, and began the walk to the saloon.

He didn’t think much about it. He’d done enough thinking, these last ten minutes. Filled up the quota for the week. There was no twinge of guilt about going to the saloon instead of going home. Instead of checking in on Jas. Marnie could handle her. She was better at it, anyway, and the vague foul taste of alcohol in his mouth had turned into a thirst instead. There was no resisting that call. Already, the Event—the unstoppable conveyor belt, stopping—had faded to the back of his mind. Soon to be summarily forgotten, he expected. Just like every other minor blip in his relentless routine.

As he pushed open the door to the saloon, however, he encountered yet another blip.

He had lived in Pelican Town, deep in Stardew Valley, for two years. The local populace was small and set in their ways. They didn’t appreciate interruptions to their routines. Oh, sometimes they took to outsiders—if they were friendly, at least. Willing to embroil themselves in the local customs and become a part of the community. If you wanted to go about your business, buy the occasional item from the General Store and keep quiet through the transaction, you got a judgmental glare and a mutter as you made your way out.

But he still knew the names of everyone who came to the saloon on a Tuesday night; he knew where they would sit. If he paid a little more attention, he would probably know what they drank. He doubted they were asking Gus to mix up anything new and exciting. This was a beer-and-ale kind of place, not the sort of establishment where you found cocktails, no matter how many dusty bottles of spirits Gus had up on his shelf.

They were exactly like all the boxes and packages and bins on the conveyor belt. They all had their places, and they went right to them, just as if some cosmic hand—or unfeeling machine—had put them there.

Point being: there was a new addition to the saloon. A green sauce in the machinery.

He’d never seen the woman before. She was sitting at the bar counter, hand curled around a shiny copper mug, and chatting amiably with Gus as if she’d known him her whole life. Gus was nodding and smiling along like he’d known her his whole life. Emily, too, was standing nearby, wiping down a glass and wearing her usual cheery smile as she listened to the newcomer.

Shane had slipped into an alternate timeline, apparently. The conveyor belt stopping had been the divergence.

There was no reason to alter his plans. Gus knew a paying customer when he saw one. Maybe he was having a nice conversation, but conversations didn’t produce money.

Sure enough, Shane slouched up to the bar—at the opposite end from this little conversation—and Gus immediately noticed. “Emily,” he said, but it wasn’t necessary, not really; Emily set down her glass, said goodbye to the newcomer, and stepped over to the other side of the counter, where Shane was waiting.

“What’ll it be?” she said, cheerfully as ever, and exactly what she said every night, without fail. Never mind he’d been drinking the same swill for two years. “Gus got a new stout in—Northern Tundra. Hints of molasses.”

It was nice of her to pretend he was a connoisseur drinker, and not just an alcoholic.

“Just the Stardrop,” he said, like he said every night. It was the cheapest. Well, setting aside what he could get in cans at Joja, at least. But it was more acceptable to do the bulk of his drinking at the saloon—not at home, where Marnie could find all the empty cans, or by the lake, where someone might happen across him. Here, he was in the right place for his activity of choice.

“You got it,” she said, not put off by the way he’d ignored her recommendation in the least, and went to fill up a mug.

This whole conversation had required laser focus—a focus he paid for when a voice beside him said, “Hey,” and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Gus and the new woman had drifted down to his end of the bar. An odd, spicy, citrusy scent drifted up from her mug, and she looked at him with a small smile.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet,” she said. “I’m Lydia. Just moved into the old farm west of town.”

She stuck out her hand—presumably for him to shake. He stared at it. Hadn’t anyone told her yet? Newcomers didn’t talk to him if they wanted to fit into this tiny, insular community. Gus should’ve warned her.

“I don’t know you,” he said. Rudely. As rude as he could make it. “Why are you talking to me?”

He could feel Gus’s glare, scorching the side of his face. This is your fault, he thought, silently. You didn’t do her the favor, so now I have to.

Usually, people were either offended or cowed by Shane’s attitude. Everyone in Pelican Town had learned by now that no overtures of friendship—or nosiness, call it what it was—would get him to divulge anything.

But Lydia didn’t huff and turn away, or hunch her shoulders and scamper off; she picked up his hand, gave it two firm shakes, and dropped it. He was so surprised that he didn’t think to pull away until she’d already let go, and then he looked like an idiot snatching his hand out of midair as if he’d been burned. She didn’t once look away from his face; her smile didn’t falter; and her steady hazel eyes seemed like they were trying to bore a hole right through his brain. He found himself unable to look away. It felt, somehow, like she was challenging him.

“Well, you know me now,” she said lightly. “I’m trying to get acquainted with everyone in town, since I’m new.” She raised an eyebrow. “You do live here, right?”

“‘Course he does,” Gus said, depriving Shane of the joy of delivering a truly blistering, awkward silence. “Don’t get any tourists round here this time of the year. This is Shane. Marnie’s nephew. You know Marnie?”

“Of course,” Lydia said, still looking at Shane. “She brought me Archimedes.”

For a moment, even Gus seemed flummoxed by this. Shane allowed the silence to go on. He certainly wasn’t about to ask.

He knew Lydia’s type. Give her an inch, she’d take a mile. She’d already shown no compunctions about forcing a handshake. What next? Regular small talk?

“Archimedes?” Gus ventured, finally.

“He was a stray, poor thing. Marnie thought I could use a dog on the farm. I call him Archie, for short. Only when he’s feeling silly.”

Gus laughed—a sound of relief, if Shane wasn’t mistaken. “Oh. Of course. Your granddad always had a dog too. Sometimes two or three. Said the sheep liked the company.”

“Exactly,” Lydia said, finally breaking the staring contest she was having with Shane to flash a smile at Gus.

As luck would have it, Emily arrived at that moment with Shane’s beer. He passed his money over with relief and turned away, ready to beat a hasty retreat to his usual table by the fire now that Lydia’s attention had been briefly diverted.

There was something unnerving about her eyes. It felt as if he’d been trapped by them, like they were the origin point of some sinister tractor beam. He’d never had trouble walking away from anyone before.

He didn’t want to stay and risk a repeat performance. Definitely not.

“It was nice to meet you,” she said to his back.

He hustled away without responding, though not fast enough to miss Gus’s low comment. “Sorry about that. I should’ve warned you he can be kind of...unfriendly.”

Shane snorted to himself. If she had a reply to this, though, he missed it; he was well away from the bar counter now, close enough to the fireplace that the crackle of flames swallowed low conversations that were half a room away. With disproportionate relief, he took his seat.

He worried—maybe unreasonably, a paranoia born of wanting to be left the fuck alone all the time, no exceptions—that she’d wrap up her conversation with Gus and follow him over here. She seemed like the type. Not cowed or offended by his attitude, but considering it a challenge, something to overcome.

But though he stole covert glances at her over the rim of his mug for the next hour, she didn’t once look his way again. Emily brought over a refill; he drank this one more slowly, letting the rosy warm glow begin to kindle deep in his stomach, fueling his general surliness. By the time Lydia pushed her strange copper mug across the bar and said good night to Gus, he’d amassed an arsenal of scathing comments to send her scurrying away, and she hadn’t given him cause to use a single one.

She crossed the saloon, saying quiet good-nights to the acquaintances she’d made, all in an hour’s time. The smiles and words she received in return were guarded, but intrigued. What a perfect story. Girl moves to grandfather’s farm, is immediately accepted by community. Fucking heartwarming. But not him. She wouldn’t say goodbye to him. He wasn’t part of the community. She didn’t need his approval.

At the door, she glanced over her shoulder. As if she’d known exactly where he was sitting all along, her eyes immediately caught his. No hesitation, no searching. She gave a little smile, just a crook at the corner of her mouth, and waved. Before he could do more than narrow his eyes at her, she was out the door and into the night.

Just wait, he thought, gulping down another swallow of beer. If you thought that was rude, you haven’t seen anything yet.

He had no patience for green sauce in the machinery. No room for nosy new girls in his routine. A few more interactions like that, and she'd be steering clear of him, just like everyone else.

#stardew valley #sdv shane #stardew valley shane #sdv farmer #pre-relationship #pre-friendship #first meeting #mentions of alcoholism #universe writes

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