Section 2: To Fall For Someone - Shane X M! Reader

Section 2: To fall for someone - Shane x M! Reader

Section 1 link (tumblr)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50214880

Part 4: A part of me wants a part of you.

Stacking shelves at Joja Mart. As usual. 

Watching the clock over my shoulder, ticking for worthless time. As usual.

What’s not usual is the new guy. And what’s even more unusual is that ever since I told him to go away…he has.

Not even occasional side glances. Not one breath in my direction. I told him my wish and he respected it.

I kind of regret it.

I regret it.

It’s weird. He’s being weird and I don’t like it. 

I could fix things, sure, but how? And why should i? Only because of guilt? Or is there something more to it that I haven’t noticed yet…

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“I thought you hated me! I thought…you found me weird. And hated me like everyone else.”

Back at the saloon and as drinks are spilled, truths are too. 

Things are getting heated.

“I..don’t. That’s why…” I stumble and hitch on my breath, heart pounding from the weight of tonight's drinks. 

Before I can say anymore, a sudden exhaustion holds me hostage against the table in front of me. 

Muffled disruption rings in my ears as I feel my dead weight being hauled upwards. A heaving sickness swells in my stomach as I’m carried away.

My mind once again, alone, I fall into a daze. A murky, empty daze.

Am I dying?

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“He’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Are you certain, Miss Marnie? I can stay and help out for a bit.”

“Well…since he’s been out for a while and looks like he isn’t gonna recover for quite some time…sorry to ask you this, but can you help out on the farm? If you have time, that is.”

“Of course. I am a farmer, after all.” I can practically hear the smile in his voice, despite only hearing half of what they are saying. 

I have one ear open, the other concealed by my duvet. 

It smells fresh. It smells new. 

Moonlight is now sunlight. My clothes are warm. 

I’m not dead. I don’t know how I feel, but I'm not dead.

My door creaks open. I can’t muster the strength to tell whoever it is to get out, so I pretend to sleep. 

I don’t care who it is. 

I don’t care…

“Shane…”

Marnie?

“I’ve brought you some fresh eggs for breakfast…”

I can’t lie, not even to myself; I'm hungry and my stomach is desperate for energy.

I turn slowly. 

Behind Marnie, is the figure of someone I’ve come to recognise all too well. 

(R/N.)

I know him, despite not knowing much about him. I know he’s considerate, I know he carried me here, and I know he plans to stay to do my farm work for me. 

I want to know more. 

“Here you go. Fresh eggs.” 

Marnie leaves after placing them on the bedside table, but (R/N) stays. 

He stays. He doesn’t know me well but he stays. I wouldn’t, if i saw someone as pathetic as me-

“Hey. You doin’ alright there?”

“Mm…”

“Alright, alright. I just came to say…I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,”

I turn to face the wall, to hide my shame, and also the tears forming in the ducts of my eyes. Despite not knowing the difference between not crying and crying, I can still tell when it’s going to refresh my old tears. 

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing. It’s my fault.”

“I’m sorry because I shouted at you. I ranted and took it out on you, when you clearly were having a tough time too.”

“Whatever.”

“You are the one who has nothing to be sorry for, remember that… If you need anything, I’ll be helping out on your and Marnie’s farm. See ya.” He turns “Oh. And…I really do hope you feel better soon.”

And he’s gone.

 But with him, he tugs my heartstrings.

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Part 5: I’m beginning to realise how serious this thing is: love. 

A few hours that feel like years, and a few breaths in, I’m now awake. 

Not sleeping, not fine. But awake and not sick.

I need to see how (R/N) is doing.

A steady walk to the farm, it’s not too far from the barnhouse I stay in. 

Didn’t R/N mention he was a farmer…? I don’t remember there being a new farmer in Pelican Bay…

Then I see him. A silhouette of a farmer's glory. A lengthy shovel in one hand, the other wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.

For some reason, my heart beats a little bit more than usual. 

I trudge over the fields and  make my way over to him.

“Oh! Hey Shane…”

Ouch. Awkward.

“Hey. I…wanted to…thank you.” I start.

“Huh? For what?”

“For helping me…you know. When I fainted? And…for taking my job on the farm.”

As though by instinct, I take the shovel from him and distract myself by completing my work, which he was doing for me. I shovel as he speaks 

“Just helping out a friend.”

I pause.

“…You see me as a friend?”

“Oh shit. You don’t?”

“…”

I’m too bewildered to speak.

“Sorry. I misunderstood.”

“No… It’s fine... You carried me home. I appreciate that. We can be friends…I guess.”

“Really?”

“Don’t make me take it back.”

“Oh, shit.”

There it is. The warmth. He laughs and the spring chill no longer taints my skin.

“Shane…”

“What.”

“…Is it just me or do I get the feeling there is something…more…to this sudden ‘friendship’.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Nevermind. Don’t mind me.”

He takes the shovel from me and starts doing my work again. In a sudden snatch, I steal it back, planting it firmly into the dirt.

“What?”

“No. I misunderstood something, that’s all. I’ve just been getting this feeling…well, maybe it's just me. It’s fine. Whatever. Let’s leave it at that.”

“No. Go on.”

“Let me get to know you properly first, like i've been trying to do for ages, and then maybe I'll tell you.”

What a tease.

“Fine.”

“We shouldn’t go to the saloon again tonight. Even though it's the weekend, it doesn't mean you can get away with more beer and make your new friend worry again, now can you?”

“Shut up.”

“How’s my house?”

Shit. 

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Shit indeed. 

I’ve been invited to his house. Tonight. It seems like something that would be a date? But that's weird. We only just became ‘friends’. I only agreed because I didn’t want to run anymore. And a part of me knew he was helping with my other…issues too. If he can do it in a day, imagine his influence in more.

I have nothing to wear, not even a smile. Not even a fake smile. 

I knocked once. In my scruffy attire, I knock. 

Sweat runs down the nape of my neck. 

Do I smell bad? 

“Come in! It’s open.”

It's small, but homely. A spread of welcoming food is laid on a small table in the kitchen. Thank goodness there wasn’t the cliché of wine glasses and dimmed lights like you would have on a date…wait, what am I thinking. This isn’t a date. Probably never will be. Probably. 

“Hey Shane! New buddy. New pal. New friend.”

I cringe. I can also sense some tension, and I don’t just think it's me. 

“Sit, sit. I have food. Plenty for a lengthy ‘getting to know each other discussion’”

Why am I even here? I don’t even have an interesting life to share. To be honest, I’m here out of curiosity. 

“So…Mr Handsome Hangover, how’s life?”

“That nickname…”

I practically scowl. It brings back memories of the day after the night we met. Not that it’s a bad memory, but it reminds me of how sick I was. And how sick I still feel. 

“Fine. So. Tell me about yourself, and I shall return the favour.”

“…there’s nothing interesting about me.”

“Yes there is. I find it interesting that you always chose to stack the same shelves everyday. What is it that you like so much about canned beans?”

I think at this point he knows me better than I know myself,

I sigh.

“It’s just a habit since my first day, I guess. Maybe it’s because it's closest to the clock.”

“Ah yes, the clock. So you know when it’s time to get off work…I see. Well, tell me about what you like then? Apart from beer, eggs and possibly beans.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Oh. I see. Um…well, I'll tell you what I like at the moment then.”

“Tormenting and teasing me?”

“Close! I like this sweet little town I just moved into, and I like meeting new people. That’s where you come in.”

“I remember now. I like being left alone.”

“Ouch. Touché. Ever since I saw you on that gloomy day, I knew you were not one for conversation.”

“Yet you kept trying. Until you thought I hated you. Why?”

“…why not? Someone staring at the sky is bound to pique your interest, is it not?”

“Touché.” He makes a good point, I guess. I still don’t get it, but I’ll move on. “What made you want to move here and pick up farming?”

“The classic protagonist backstory of course…my grandpa died.”

“Oh. I’m…sorry.”

“It’s fine. I now take care of his old farm.”

“Wow. All by yourself?”

“Yep!” He adds in a wink: “Hopefully not for long.”

Gosh darn it, why does my heart choose the most inconvenient times to beat? I feel more like I'm dying now, than I did yesterday with my whole dizzy fainting moment.

“And what do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know. A farmer partner would be pretty cool. Moving on,” Wow, this guy knows how to keep the ball rolling in the right court, “Shane, what was your first impression of me?”

I realise just now that the food on the table has gone untouched, I signal with my eyes and we both simultaneously dig in, still engaged in conversation. 

Oh my goodness, this food is the best I've eaten and I don’t know whether it's because I haven’t eaten since morning, or because of something else but dear gosh…

“I don’t know. Persistent. Annoying…” and in a last mumble, as though reassuring my thoughts, “interesting…” 

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. What’s wrong with me?

“I heard that! You have an interest in me, eh?”

“No, don’t get on your high horse just yet. I said I thought you were interesting. Not…that.” 

“Oh. Right. Yeah.”

Suddenly, the person I thought was so good at keeping conversation, has become quiet.

“(R/N) Do you have a family elsewhere?”

“My parents are in the big city.”

“I see.”

“Why’d you ask?”

“Just wondering.”

“Wondering, you say. Huh. Okay. Well, I’m just wondering…what do you think of my food?”

My heart skips a beat.

“You…made this?”

“Who else? You work at Joja Mart, you know the food there’s as shit as the management.”

“True. So…you like to cook?”

“Of course. A farmer has their own stuff so why not put it to use.”

“This food is great.”

“Why, thank you!”

“I didn’t say it was any more than that, don’t act as though you just won an award or something.”

“I never did such a thing.” smirking comes naturally for him. 

“…what was that thing you said earlier?”

“What thing? Oh that? It’s nothing. I was just being stupid. Getting my hopes up.” 

“Your hopes up? About what?”

“I’m somewhat…mildly…a little bit…attracted to you. And…you sorta gave me the vibe that you felt the same. You know, with all the staring. And the ‘go aways’ and blushing.”

“…I…”

“It’s fine. Forget about it. I understand.”

He’s done with his plate so he casually picks it up as he stands, seemingly to put it away in the sink.

“Are you done with your food?”

“Yeah, thanks.” I say. I can’t look at him. My heart hurts. 

“Seconds?”

“No.” 

“All right.”

With his back turned, my heart beat comes faster. I'm now left alone with my thoughts as he is no longer paying attention to me. 

What did he mean by…attracted to me?

“(R/N.)”

“Hmm?”

A nervous hum tickles in his throat.

“What did you mean?”

“Oh, just my unrequited feelings for you. Nothing big. Let’s just drop it.”

“I think I feel it too.”

“What?”

“But we only just met.”

“What?”

He turns to me, gently dropping the dishes he was mid way through scrubbing.

“So…I’d like to get to know you better.” 

“What?”

“I’d like to get to know you better.”

“What?“

“For pete’s sake, just give me seconds and tell me more about you!”

“So you did want seconds.”

My stomach gurgles.

Maybe just a little.

“I just washed the plates.”

“Ugh.”

“Fine. I have another. Bear with.”

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“Here we are again. The ‘talking phase’. So…how about you tell me what on earth is going on and the fact you just said ‘I think I feel it too’ when I was telling you about my feelings?!”

“…”

“…What? Cat got your tongue?”

“More like a (R/N.)”

“Smooth. But tell me, really, do you really, truly, ‘feel’ something for me?”

Do i? I do. I’m almost certain. A flutter in my guts, a warmth, a heartbeat faster than normal.

It's definitely something, if not indigestion, and it's something I haven't felt in a while. Especially not for another guy. 

“Yes.”

“Cause’ if you don’t then I- wait…really?”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

I can feel a different type of heat rise to my cheeks now, and I hide it beneath the palm of my hand.

“I kind of wanna make you say it again.”

“Well I won’t.”

“Fine. Well, why did you wanna learn more about me?”

“Because we met two days ago, and we were both intoxicated.”

“So? We’re here now and we feel the same as we did that night. I think our meeting was fated. Like Romeo and Juliet.”

“They both die at the end.” 

“So?“

“That's exactly the point. Listen..I'm not who you think I am. I’m a loser. I drink beer everyday to drown in my sorrow of a depressing repetition of the days, and everyone pities me to the point of isolation. You don’t wanna get mixed up with me. Leaving will hurt less than staying.”

“I don’t mind a bit of pain. I’m quite the drama king, after all. You can’t be that bad.”

“Well I am. This is why things won’t work.”

“It will, if we just try-“

“I better go.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?“

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Part 5: Where songbirds sing, hawks circle elsewhere.

Stacking shelves at Joja Mart. As usual. 

Watching the clock over my shoulder, ticking for worthless time. As usual.

(R/N isn’t here). I’m glad but regretful.

Why do I mess up everything?

The door to the shop opens with a satisfied ring, but I keep my focus on stocking the shelves. Whoever enters that door, it doesn’t matter. Just like I don’t matter. 

“Shane.”

Marnie?

“Shane.”

What’s she doing here?

“Shane!”

I jolt out of bed, in a heavy sweat. 

What’s going on?

Marnie's concerned face towers over me.

“Gosh! You’re sweating buckets. Don’t worry. Hold still.” 

She wipes my head with a wet cloth and the relief is almost instant. There's still a tang of heat on my body. 

I’m sick on the floor in front of her. How humiliating.

“For explanation, (R/N) found you on the cliffside with a bit too many drinks, and you’d got sick from the downpour last night. He took you in, dear.”

(R/N)? See, he’s too kind. I don’t deserve this. I should just-

“Marnie? The herbal tea’s ready.”

I can hear him. He’s close. I need to run.

“Woah, Shane. Stay in bed.”

From hands in the hallway, she takes a tray with tea and hands it to me.

“For the hangover.”

I grunt in a thankful return and sip the tea. 

But my mind wanders off, not to the bitter-sweet taste of the tea, but to the thought of (R/N) being so close. Yet so far. 

“Can you get R/N, Marnie.”

“Of course, dear.”

And here he is. In my room. Again. Helping me,again. 

I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this. I don’t-

“Shane. You're heating up.”

The cold touch of his hand to my forehead shocks me.

The colder the hands, the warmer the heart, they say. 

“I’m fine…”

“No you’re not. Rest for a little. We can chat later, if that’s what you want. Okay?”

“I want to talk. Now.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Before I met you. Everyday felt like a nightmare. A constant one. A never ending one… But then when I saw you looking at the sky, something clicked. I wanted change. And I think you're just perfect for that.”

“What are you on about? You sound like you’re delivering a main character monologue. I thought I was the protagonist here, not you…You're too feverish for a normal conversation-“

“I want to try. Being with you.” 

“You're too sick to think…”

“I was thinking last night.”

“You were too drunk last night to think.”

“I was thinking in my dreams.”

“Wel, I can’t argue against that, but now that just sounds stupid, doesn’t it.”

“What I'm saying is that…you changed my life. Within three days. And without you, things got worse. I realised that last night. But…”

“But…?”

Before I can finish, the heat absorbs me, and I fall asleep once more.

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Part 6: A longing heart, a missing grave of stone. 

Maybe it’s okay to trust my instincts. I should tell him today. 

“(R/N). I have feelings for you.”

“Pfft. You think I didn’t know that? We’ve been on like 6 dates this month.” 

“No. I’ve never properly told you,”

“We’ve literally-“

“Ugh. Just please say it back before I go back to my old ways.”

Part of it was a joke, but deep down, I know, without (R/N), I really would have. 

“Are you seriously giving me a bouquet while threatening me with your past indulgences?”

“What? No…maybe. So, what do you think? Too traditional, handing you a bouquet?”

“No. It’s perfect. As long as it's not a mermaid pendant…”

He laughs and that warmth from the first day we met is still there. 

I’m so glad I met him.

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Author's note: Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments/requests :)

Fanfiction Comments: Why Bother?

Genuine question: If ya’ll like a story, why not comment?

This question, born out of previous discussions and Discord chats, is one writers have been dealing with for a long time. Feedback/reblogs on art tends to be more common than on fics. Yet writers continue to beg for comments on stories. So what's stopping people?

Don't know what to say/an emoji/script feels too impersonal

Forgot to comment

Read everything and how do you pick out one part?

Rather give feedback personally

Feels like an expectation/I owe them

Send me a string of emojis? I love it. Send a single heart? I love it. Keyboard smash? I love it. Copy/paste a "thank you for writing"? I still love it. "I don't know what to comment or how to put my feelings into words." Then put that! That's a compliment! Can't think of anything to say, then "I don't know what to write but asgfdhgf I liked it." is fine!

Seriously, I don't care WHAT you put, because it shows me you cared enough to take a few second to show that love. I recognize and look for my regular commenters, even the ones who leave just a heart or "extra kudos".

Forgot to comment? Leave the fic open on your phone or get in the habit of dropping SOMETHING right as you finish. If you had time to make it through the last 100 words, you can probably tap an emoji. It's likely more of a habit to build up than anything.

Read it in one go and it's all a blur? "I read this all in one go and it's a blur, but I loved it!" We don't need specifics; just tell us you loved it on the chapter you stopped on. That in itself is a compliment because Hey! You loved it so much you had to keep reading!

Personal feedback? Well, I'll never say no to friends gushing about stories to me! And it might not be the same for everyone, but if you stop commenting on AO3 and only tell me personally...my assumption is you don't like it enough to say it publicly. I've spent many a time wondering why people stopped giving that support and what I should do better. If it's a friend, try asking them which they prefer! We can go back and reread (and do!) AO3 comments. Much harder on discord/dms/etc.

Owing authors? Look, we put a lot of time and work into writing and providing content for free. Hours of idea planning, actual writing, editing, catering to requests, etc. My partner once said I have a second job, writing, but I don't get paid. If you read and enjoyed something that someone put a lot of work into, it's nice to take a few seconds and tell them that.

You don't owe authors comments. They also don't owe you free writing. Sometimes, you forget there is an author at all when you're reading. But there is. A real person put out a story hoping you'd love it, or connect to it. You'd see yourself in the writing and feel less alone, or cheered up when you have a bad day.

Writing is art, and all we want to do is connect with you. Comments help bridge that gap.

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