Lowkey i wish people gave Shane the credit he deserves for his character development. No we did NOT "fix him" he put in the WORK to fix HIMSELF.
Of course he wouldnt have done it without the player bc they give him the step in the right direction that he deserved, but that doesn't mean he COULDNT. He had other ppl in his life that i think could have helps if the farmer wasnt there.
And he ABSOLUTELY works on himself. He starts saving up and drinking less to be a good father figure to Jaz, he starts going to therapy, though he talks to the farmer though it all, he puts in the work to change and stands by it.
Also i wish that beer/alcohol becomes a hated gift when he stops drinking in game 😔✌️
I have a sticker sheet of Shane sprites that I don't know what to do with because I am running out of things to put stickers on, but it has his front facing standing sprite and his front facing wedding sprite and I kinda just like, looked at them for a minute. And I noticed something.
Compare, if you will. His arms. His shoulders. They're so stiff in his wedding sprite, like he's tensing because, perhaps... He is nervous. Granted I don't know if this was intentional because Eric is so fucking inconsistent that it really could mean nothing, but I'm a HUGE believer that Shane struggles with SOOOO MUCH anxiety, which the fandom does NOT explore NEARLY enough but that's a tangent I've gone on dozens of times before. Irrelevant.
I am simply choosing to believe that, on his big day, standing at the alter in his stuffy suit, about to get married to the love of his life, that he is EXTREMELY overwhelmed and anxious, enough so that he can't hide it and it clearly shows in his body language. And that thought brings me so much joy. It brings me SO MUCH JOY. He is just so in love and he is so nervous and it FUELS ME.
back again, this time w a spoiler-free preview to the chapter currently in progress.
so i dont lose my damn mind while im still working on this shit bc i usually work much faster than this
cw: alcohol/drugs
(preview continues below cut)
Same time as every day, Shane trudged his way through the Saloon door to slump into the seat that had long ago been established as his, and the friendly, twinkly-eyed man behind the bar quietly slid over his usual order. At least, Shane assumed it was his usual order- but looking at it, he'd not been given the cheap lager he expected. He saw a round, stubby glass of something dark, instead, and a whole, large pizza with pepperoni and jalapeños.
He started to argue that he'd not ordered this, but Gus smiled at him and stopped him before he could get going. "Already paid for, Shane, don't worry about it."
"Gus," Shane groaned. "What the hell are you doing? You can't afford to be giving me this on the house. Take it back, you fuckin' idiot."
"I didn't say it was on the house," Gus clarified. He threw a wink at Shane and conveniently walked off to fetch something from the back of the Saloon.
"There's no one here!" Shane protested loudly. He looked around to confirm what he'd already claimed. As he had intended, it was way too early for anyone else to have arrived yet. Gus, however, was long gone, unable to hear his arguments.
Seeing as he had been given this pizza whether he wanted to accept it or not, he figured he may as well eat it. "Who paid for this, then?" he mumbled to himself through big bites. Certainly Gus was just being cheeky with him.
The beer he'd been given was of a much higher quality than a tap lager. He already knew that by the fact that it had been served in a snifter instead of a pint glass, but it was harder to ignore when he tasted the robust notes of oak and coffee that filled out the brew.
After he'd gotten a couple slices into his pizza and halfway through the beer, he hunched over and dropped his head onto the bar.
This was a normal day. He was having a normal time. There was nothing to celebrate. He was going to stay here the usual amount of time and then go home and have another normal day the next day.
"Not a fan of birthdays, Goob?"
The squeaking interruption to Shane's long silence jolted him out of his hunched over position, and he lifted his head to see Mouse beaming a wide, painfully polite grin with red, glazed-over eyes. Forced to acknowledge the farmer's presence here, Shane now noticed the potent smell of weed that had wafted into the room.
"Fucking scared me, you asshole," Shane grumbled. "You reek, by the way."
Ignoring entirely Shane's attempts to establish a combative energy, Mouse's smile did not waver, and he continued on with his aggressively friendly demeanor. "You know, I bet you could bribe Lewis to take it off the public calendar."
"Damn it. I hate how good of an idea that is," Shane admitted. "Too late for this year. Maybe next."
Mouse settled into the stool next to him and propped an elbow on the bar, leaning his head onto his fist and eyeing Shane like he was expecting something. "Aren't you gonna tell me to fuck off?"
"I see. He learns," Mouse teased. He eyed over Shane more intently, scanning down his shoulders and over his arms that were usually covered by a hideous blue JojaMart jacket but were currently exposed from the short sleeves of his jersey, then he tilted his head to look down over his thighs.
"Stop it, creep," Shane mumbled. He took a sip of his beer and returned to his pizza.
"You're wearing jeans," Mouse noted with poignant surprise.
Shane side eyed him and spoke through his pizza mouth. "Yeah, so?"
"What happened to your terrible cargos?"
"Nothing," Shane answered defensively. "Go away."
Mouse grinned at him and let out a warm, quiet chuckle. "There it is."
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