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rosesareviolentlyread · 3 years

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Bakery Box Boy Intro

CW: BBU, modern slavery, hypothermia, vague past references to abuse, this is a pretty light one WC: 1486

This is based on a post I can’t find again about a bakery that gets a box boy! This series will mostly be focused on recovery & fluff, that nice angst that comes with the struggle to heal. Jasper is a refurbished box boy, and I might do some pieces or flashbacks of his previous owners, but otherwise this will mostly be a comf/recovery series. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! I’ve got a few pieces drafted for this already that I’ll be putting out over the next few days. Thanks to @moose-teeth and @whumpywhumper for beta reading!

847650 felt so, so cold. It was all he felt now, besides tired. The bindings on his wrists, holding them in place in the box as he tumbled and shook and turned in transport, blended in, just another piece of the block of ice that made up his body.

It hurt less though, now. The shivering as rain seeped into the box, soaking around him until he feels cocooned in dampness that freezes first against his skin and then in his skin. It had made its way through him like a serpent, moving through his limbs until its icy poison made his ribs tighten like a vice around his chest, making it hard to breathe. After that, it seemed to slither so deep in him that it was him. Icy numbness incapable of anything. It felt like peace, somehow, leaving him with nothing to do much more than wait, no thoughts besides fighting the drowsy feeling for a reason it was getting harder and harder to remember.

The frozen world that had become safe, and comfortable, abruptly shattered as he felt himself tipped, the world up-ending himself. He would’ve cried out, if it weren’t for the way he was slammed into the side of the box, pushing out his shallow breath into coils of frosted nothing in the air, setting his skin alight again with pins and needles of agony.

He couldn’t be aware of anything, even as the world came flooding back in through the sounds of voices and rain and road and movement. It was just a blur, bookended by a second thump as his box slammed harder, throwing him against the other side in a way that felt like it shattered every bone in his body. Still, no sound came, no movement, as he existed only to suffer in his crystallized cocoon of a body.

For long moments, his brain scrambled, struggling even to find the focus to breathe, let alone listen to the sound of swearing and latches being undone.

He could only find that as worthy of focus, when the damp walls were unwrapped, and warmth flooded in like mist, sending his body in further pain as molten awareness filled the comfortable cold, pushing it out of him.

Someone was talking, someone important and 847650 struggled to focus on why.

“Oh my god, you’re soaked” The words were spoken with horror, sending panic coursing through 847650 as he recognized the tell-tale tone of a mistake.

This is his owner, his owner towering above him, gray hair and pinched face and shaking hands. The sight makes the breath catch in his throat. He had fucked up. He had fucked up for his new owner before he’d even left his box.

Adjusting to the light, he can see now it’s a woman, an older one. Hair with more gray than blonde sits loose on her head, damp strands hanging limp. Wrinkles and smile lines dot her face like the memories of a life lived long, but not easily. But her expression. Her expression is stern, and immediately recognizable to 847560, down to his still cold bones.

Upset.

Fix it, his brain screams from a place of terror, and he tries to force out apologies on dry frozen lips, but it only comes as a wheeze, a whimper squeezed into raw air. 847650 shakes now, and tells himself its from the cold. But memories slam against the walls in his mind, sending shivers down his body. He wants to wilt away, but pulling away from an owner’s touch is forbidden. He isn’t sure how much he even could in the touches that feel gentle but only because his skin is like a shield of icy rubber still. His body feels stiff, unmoving.

Which isn’t good, because the next thing she says is, “Can you get out of there for me? These old bones aren’t as strong as they used to be.” A hand is outstretched, a confusing contradiction to her words.

It’s like moving the arms of a doll, rather than his, as 847650 twists, putting his arms on the lip and trying to balance on the prickling sensation to push himself up. But all he succeeds is falling out of the box with a pained yelp as the wood slips out from the barely controlled limbs.

But instead of the ground, warm arms catch his shaking body. “I gotcha big- well, you really aren’t that big, are ya? Just a skinny bean pole.” He looks up and her smile is tight, and strained, the words nervous.

847650 twists out of her grasp until he’s all the way on the floor. “‘m so’y” the words finally come on numb lips, as he sees the big wet spot on her sweater, the one that had felt so soft and is now covered in dirty rain water. “I-I ‘an do it” He tries to push himself up, but the lingering effects of the drugs, the cold, leave his head spinning, and he slips in the water spilled on the wood floor, landing back down with a thump that sends another jolt of pain. It’s more intense now, the warm air having soaked away some numbness, but only enough that everything feels like pins and needles again. Tears prick his eyes, and he squeezes them shut as he tries to breath through the pain with a whimper.

“Oh shhh, shhh, it’s ok. Oh dear- I’ve never done this before, I just- you stay right there, I’ll be back.” It’s a blessedly easy command as the footsteps retreat, but he can’t stop the screaming in his brain about how much he has messed up. How many mistakes he’s made in painfully short minutes. He tries to pull himself together, to think of what to say, but all he feels is white terror.

It’s too soon when his owner comes back...and drops something warm on top of him. Gentle hands rub through the fabric, soaking up the damp and cold as she coos gently with sushing noises at him.

“There, let’s get you all nice and dry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t think you were supposed to come until next week.”

847650 doesn’t understand. Is this a precursor to punishment? He was a week early causing problems, being bad before he even was for this owner. But she doesn’t sound mad. She sounds...nice.

Maybe..maybe she wasn’t his owner? Maybe she was another pet? But she didn’t have a collar, and he’d never met a pet this old. It was so hard to just think right now, with his brain feeling like it’d been left in the freezer.

“A-are you ‘y ow’er?” words tumble out ill-formed, even as he tries to enunciate. To be right.

The hands stop, adjusting the towel so he can see her more properly, and he struggles to not shake more in fear at the loss of such foreign kindness. “Oh, oh, I’m really bungling this up, aren’t I? I’m sorry, my name’s Adele Brooks, yes, I’m your owner. But, you should call me Della.”

And then. And then, she smiles at him, a real smile, without a trace of anger or sadism, so warm he feels his limbs tingle, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“W-wha’e’er you wan’ i’ ‘a be Miss ‘ella.” It was a risk, but he didn’t want to seem rude, using a nickname for an owner. It was unfathomable. He was already rude enough forcing her to dry him off because his body wouldn’t cooperate.

“I- oh, right. They make me name you, don’t they? I read it online, thank god, since it looks like the booklet is ruined.” He feels enough of his limbs to manage sitting up, feeling her drape the towel around him. It’s...sad. To lose the touch, some deep part of him aching for reasons he doesn’t know why at the loss.

She pulls a face, squinting at him. For a second his heart skips before he sees her smile return. “How about...Jasper. You look like a Jasper to me. What do you think?”

Does he look like a Jasper? What does a Jasper look like? He didn’t know if he did, and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. So, instead, he just nods, hesitantly, hoping that’s enough of an answer.

“Well then, Jasper, why don’t we get you a bit more warmed up? Hmmm, what would you think about a warm bath? I thought they’d..well, have you come more...decent, but you look like you might fit some old things I’ve got laying around.” The hand reaches out again, an offering, and gently pulls him - Jasper - to his swaying, numb feet. He feels light-headed still, shaky, but he determines he will not mess this up. Not make anymore mistakes.

Not if he gets to keep feeling the foreign sense of warmth that had touched his chest with his owner’s smile.

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stardew-atlantis · 2 years

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I posted 767 times in 2021

79 posts created (10%)

688 posts reblogged (90%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 8.7 posts.

I added 1,274 tags in 2021

#sdv - 455 posts

#stardew art - 292 posts

#sdv harvey - 202 posts

#sdv farmer - 72 posts

#stardew valley - 64 posts

#stardew writing - 64 posts

#asks - 37 posts

#stardew memes - 31 posts

#farmer sj - 29 posts

#sdv shane - 28 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#side note: farmer sj would absolutely wear a hawaiian shirt at the beach w/ a bathing suit underneath so she can wear the shirt unbuttoned

My Top Posts in 2021

Not sure if I posted this here but @macithemaci drew my farmer SJ and it's absolutely wonderful, so here it is for all to see ^_^

27 notes • Posted 2021-11-18 02:49:23 GMT

I'd like to share my thoughts on CA's new game

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

That is all.

29 notes • Posted 2021-10-21 22:44:28 GMT

✨Bestie Vibes✨

Harvey(left) drawn by @doctoraceus

30 notes • Posted 2021-08-24 18:53:13 GMT

Wires

-Previous-

This is my version of Harvey's 8 heart event (featuring Farmer SJ). I went in a bit of a different direction for this one so bear with me. This is also a long ass post, you have been warned.

Takes place in the second week of Summer, Year 1.

Summary: It's been a week since "The Incident". Harvey's radio is broken, but Maru refuses to fix it for him.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injuries, swearing

Word count: 7.1k (You have been warned a second time)

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On a slow summer day, it wasn't very often that Harvey would receive any phone calls, let alone on his personal cell phone. He raised a curious eyebrow at the unknown number on the screen in front of him before he answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Joanne from Zuzu Electronics. I'm calling about your appointment for the repair job you requested?”

“Oh, yes! Of course. I called last week about having some radio equipment fixed.”

“Right. So, I'm just calling to let you know we've had to move your appointment. Unfortunately, we're all booked up until winter, so we won't be able to send a technician until then. How does the 12th work for you?”

“Winter? I was told someone would be here on Monday between 10 and 4?” Harvey pinned the phone against his ear with his shoulder as he shuffled the papers around on his desk, looking for his appointment slip.

“Yes, but unfortunately there was a scheduling error in our computer system and your spot has been taken. The next available appointment is on the 12th if you'd like me to book that for you instead.”

Harvey sighed and took the phone back into his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. “No… no that’s fine. Don’t bother. I'll figure something out. Thank you for calling.”

As soon as Harvey hung up the phone, he began racking his brain for some brilliant plan that didn’t involve calling someone in the city. He'd already resigned himself to waiting almost a week to get his beloved radio fixed, he couldn't fathom going without it during his busy season. With the influx of flu cases and other various seasonal illnesses that inevitably came up during the winter, he needed something fun to help him unwind at the end of a long day. It’s not like there was anyone in town with enough knowledge to fix a 25-year-old radio. Well, maybe one person…

…

“What do you mean, no?” Harvey asked, a little desperately as Maru turned away from him to walk out the door.

“I mean no, I’m not gonna fix it for you.” Maru replied, without looking back.

He followed her out of his office to the area behind the front counter, not ready to let this conversation go just yet.

“But… why not? You’re good with machines. I’ll pay you whatever you want.” Harvey pleaded.

“Keep your money. I have a better idea.”

“And what would that be?”

“Call SJ. Ask her to fix it.”

Harvey shook his head nervously. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I really shouldn't be bothering her right now. She just got her stitches taken out a few days ago. Wouldn’t it be a little hypocritical of me to ask for her help so soon? I don’t want it to seem like I’m taking advantage of her work ethic. Especially after…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it out loud. Especially after he yelled at her for being reckless.

“You're overthinking this.” Maru said flatly.

“Does she even know anything about electronics? She’s a farmer, I doubt she even knows how to fix a radio.”

“She does. Trust me. Will you just call her?” Maru said firmly.

Harvey wasn't used to spending any length of time with SJ outside of treating her injuries from the mines. The only real conversation they'd ever had, that wasn't in the clinic, was at the flower dance. Harvey had awkwardly tried to ask her to dance with him, but she didn't seem to pick up on what he meant and turned him down. He wasn’t prepared to go through another awkward afternoon of overanalyzing his every word.

He hung his head in shame. “I… I can’t.”

“Why not?” Maru snapped.

“Well for one thing, I don't even have her phone number.” He responded in an equally exasperated tone. “I couldn’t call her if I wanted to.”

“Oh!” Maru said, as if all their problems were suddenly solved. “That's fine. I have it!”

Before Harvey could reject the idea, Maru was already pulling out her phone and dialing the number.

“Wait-”

It only rang once. Maru put it on speaker so Harvey could hear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, SJ? It's Maru. Got a sec?”

“Sure, what's up?”

“Do you-”

“Maru, don't-” Harvey interrupted.

She glared at him. “Shush, I'm on the phone...” She turned her attention back to the phone with a smile on her face. “Do you have any extra wire that you could spare?”

“Like, garden wire? Probably.”

Harvey impulsively reached for the phone, Maru caught his wrist before he could take it, holding the phone just out of his reach. Every attempt to stop her only led to his hands getting swatted away.

“No, like electronics. Do you have anything left from your PC?” Maru asked, carefully guarding her phone.

He eventually took to pacing back and forth, accepting defeat. This was happening.

“Yeah, I should have something. Might take me a minute to get to the mountains. I can get it to you in a little bit if that's alright.”

“Oh, it's not for me, it's for Harvey, can you bring it to the clinic?”

Harvey stopped pacing, counting about three seconds of pure silence before she replied.

“Um... Sure. I can do that.”

He tried not to let himself think that her hesitation was because she found out the wires were for him, but it was obvious that for a second, she considered declining Maru's request.

“Thanks, SJ!” Maru hung up the phone and grinned at Harvey. “See, was that so hard?”

“I can’t believe you just did that! What am I going to do with wires? Also how did you know to ask for wires? You didn't even ask her to fix the radio.”

“Will you relax? You’re going to ask her when she gets here.” She said, poking him in the chest. “I can't do everything for you.”

“I didn't ask you to do that! If I recall, I asked you specifically not to do that.”

Harvey could already feel his heart rate increasing by the second. He wondered how long it would take to fix the radio. What would they even talk about for that long?

“I can't believe you don't have her number by now.” Maru giggled. “She's here all the time. You've never asked her for it?”

Harvey couldn't picture any scenario where he could just ask the farmer for her phone number for no reason. He already had the number for the farmhouse in her patient file, there was no need for him to have her cell number. “That would be a bit forward, wouldn't it? I wouldn’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

“And what idea is that? You like her, don’t you?”

“Oh, not this again.” Harvey groaned. “Is this why you wanted me to call her? Maru, for the last time, I’m not interested in SJ.”

Maru had been teasing Harvey about the farmer ever since the flower dance. He got caught staring at her stunning white suit for a bit too long and Maru immediately concluded that Harvey was attracted to her. Was she beautiful? Of course! Maru thought so too. Did he want to get to know her better? Sure! Why not? But she was still one of his patients, and not to mention she was at least a few years younger than him. Just because she made him a little nervous didn't mean he was attracted to her... Did it?

Maru narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, unconvinced.

“What? I’m not!” Even with the air-conditioning on, the room suddenly felt a lot warmer. “I could never… She's a patient! Pursuing any kind of relationship with her would be unprofessional of me.” Harvey said, blush darkening his cheeks as he tried to avoid Maru’s piercing gaze. “And also, I’m not interested in her…” He added, as an afterthought.

It wouldn’t even matter if he had feelings for the farmer, it’s not like she would ever feel the same way.

Maru threw up her hands in defeat. “Fine. She's ‘just a friend’ then.” She said with exaggerated air quotes.

“I wouldn’t even go that far. How many people do you know that are friends with their healthcare providers?” Maru opened her mouth to respond but Harvey cut her off. “-Not including you.”

Maru gave him a knowing smile. “This'll be good for you. We haven't had anyone new move here in over a year, this is your chance. Even if you're not interested in her, which I still think you are, why not tryto make a new friend? I know you’re dead set on being ‘professional’ with everyone so they’ll respect you, but it’s been two years. They respect you enough. It wouldn’t hurt to try and get to know them a little better. You’re allowed to have friends too.”

Harvey had to admit there was at least some truth to what Maru said. With all his time spent working, he’d been a bit reclusive over the years. It wasn’t on purpose, four years of undergrad, four years of medical school, and another four during his residency in Zuzu City, he didn’t really have time for friends. He had classmates and colleagues. The only people he interacted with were the people he saw during his twelve-hour, sometimes more, shifts at the hospital. Somewhere along the way he just forgot how to talk about anything that didn’t have to do with medicine. In the two years since he moved to Pelican Town and took over running the clinic from his predecessor, Maru had been his only friend.

He often found himself wondering if it was too late for him. True, he’d been a bit apprehensive about getting closer to his patients, it wasn’t an easy task, but it wasn’t as if anyone had tried to get closer to him either. This really was an excellent opportunity to get to know the farmer outside of the five minutes a day they spent chatting about nothing in particular.

Harvey sighed. “I wouldn’t even know where to start with SJ. She’s just so… intimidating. I never know what to say to her.”

“How is she intimidating? She's a farmer.”

“Who kills monsters as a hobby.” Harvey pointed out.

As if on cue, the bell above the front door chimed. Both of their heads suddenly snapped toward the sound to see Farmer SJ walking into the clinic. Harvey was a little disappointed to see her wearing a pair of denim overalls and work boots. He hoped she wasn’t in the fields when Maru called. He had told her multiple times that farm work could be potentially dangerous to her recovery.

“She's here.” Maru whispered.

“Yes. Thank you, Maru.” He muttered sarcastically. While SJ was busy reaching into her backpack, he quickly straightened his tie and smoothed out his hair. “Good afternoon SJ.”

“Hey doc,” SJ grinned. “I didn't know how much wire you needed, but I have extra, so you can keep this one.” She placed a large roll of blue wire on the counter and turned to leave.

Maru began gesturing aggressively to SJ, signaling Harvey to say something before she left.

He cleared his throat to get her attention. “Um... SJ?”

She spun around.

“Hm?” she asked, eyebrows raised as she waited for his answer.

“Do you... want to see what the wire is for? If you have time, of course.”

SJ never asked people what their requests were for. Harvey always wondered if she was curious to see what people did with the items that she collects for them.

“Uh...” She quickly checked her phone for the time. “Sure. Why not.”

…

SJ had never seen the second floor of the clinic before. Harvey didn't actually expect her to say yes, and he was still in a state of disbelief, even after she had followed him upstairs to his apartment.

She stood in the doorway for a moment with her hands in her pockets, admiring the place. At least he hoped that's what she was doing. He couldn't seem to read the neutral expression on her face.

“You can come in, you know.”

She blinked as if he interrupted a very important thought. “Oh, okay. Sorry, no one ever does this.” SJ said sheepishly.

“Really? I swear you spend half your time delivering things to people's homes, no one ever invites you in?”

“Nope. You're the first.” She said as she stepped inside.

…

On the left side of the room was a large table, mostly covered in model airplanes, all in varying states of completion. Harvey could already feel his cheeks flush in embarrassment. When he invited the farmer upstairs, it completely slipped his mind that he left all of his modeling supplies out in the open. He braced himself for her reaction, hoping she would go easier on him than Maru did when she found out about his collection of miniature airplanes. Harvey had been adding to his collection quite a bit since his radio broke, but he suspected that he would go broke if he didn’t get it fixed soon.

SJ took one look at the table and smiled. “Did you build all those?”

“Yes. I did.” He said proudly. “I find it relaxing. I know it's not the most interesting hobby in the world but-”

“What do you mean?” she interrupted. “I think it's cool.”

SJ was known for being a bit sarcastic with people, Harvey wondered if she was just trying to tease him. “You do?”

“Yeah! I like this kind of stuff. Building things is fun, keeps my hands busy. I don't have any planes, but I have a pirate ship and a couple of rockets.”

“That's... very cool!” Harvey said, shocked that he and the farmer actually had something in common.

While scanning the room, the farmer's eyes eventually wandered over to the radio. “What's that?” She asked.

“That is actually what the wire is for.” Harvey replied as he moved to stand next to the desk. “It's radio equipment I use for contacting pilots.”

“Awesome! I didn't know you were a pilot.”

It made sense that she would come to that conclusion. Perhaps he should have worded it better. “No, I'm not actually a pilot.” He reluctantly admitted. “I just like using the radio to talk to them.”

“Oh, I see. So, what happened?”

He sighed. “Well... one of the requirements to become a pilot is to have perfect vision, which is clearly a bit of an issue. Not to mention I have a crippling fear of heights.”

The farmer nodded along, listening but not responding.

“It just never would have worked out. It's fine, some dreams aren't meant to... come true.” Harvey felt his shoulders stiffen, and the familiar heat returning to his cheeks as he realized that's not what she was asking. “You meant what happened to the radio, didn't you?”

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling. “Yeah.”

“Right. Sorry.” He said, wondering why she didn't stop him.

“Don't worry about it. Everybody has that one dream from when they were a kid that never worked out.” She said casually.

“Really?” He asked, suddenly intrigued by the implication that she also had a failed childhood dream. In the spirit of finally getting to know one of his patients, and as long as they were on the subject, he figured it couldn't hurt to ask. “What's yours?”

She seemed taken aback by the question, but her mouth soon twitched into a hint of a smile. “Astronaut. I was a huge space nerd as a kid. I wanted to go to Mars.”

Even her dreams were more interesting than his.

“I actually did this thing online a few years ago where you could send in your name and have it etched into a microchip for one of the Mars rovers.” She added.

“They can do that?”

Her face lit up as she explained. “Yeah! They use a laser to print it on, and then attach it to one of the rovers that they to send to Mars. You can't actually see it without a microscope, they put millions of names on there, but still. I got to put my name on another planet, even if I'll never make it up there myself. You need 20/20 vision for that too.” She said, tapping the arm of her glasses.

“That makes sense. Astronauts and pilots both need flight training, but couldn't you get corrective surgery to fix your vision?” He suggested.

She shook her head nervously. “Oh no. You've seen how I am with needles, I'm not gonna try lasers thank you very much. And have you even eaten freeze-dried food? There’s no way I would survive up there.”

“Understandable.” He chuckled.

“Yeah... It is what it is, you know?” She shrugged. “Sometimes life doesn't go where you want it to, but it finds a way of getting you where you need to be. I guess we’re both proof of that.”

Her wise words surprised him. A majority of their past conversations involved lamenting over how much work they had left to do for the day. They never went into any deeper topics like their childhood dreams. It was a nice change of pace. Perhaps this afternoon could be more fun than he thought.

“They do say hindsight is 20/20.” He added.

That joke earned him a smile that almost made him blush again. “True. Anyway, what did happen to the radio?” she finally asked.

“Right. A few days ago, I accidentally spilled a mug of coffee on it, and it sparked. I managed to clean it up, but it still won't turn on. I hate to ask you this, but-”

“You want me to take a look at it for you?” she guessed.

“If you don't mind.” He said, nervously wringing his hands. “I know how busy you are.”

She was already taking off her backpack and unzipping it as she crossed the room. “Not at all. Let me get my tools.”

“Why do you have tools in your backpack?” Harvey asked.

Did she know what he planned to ask her? No, that's not possible. She didn't even know the radio existed until now.

“Well, I never leave home without at least a screwdriver. But, since I can't go mining, I've been doing some maintenance around the house.” She said, producing a screwdriver from her backpack and setting it down on the desk.

“How come you're dressed for the fields then?” He crossed his arms, hoping she wasn't lying to him again.

“The overalls have a lot of pockets, and the boots are steel-toe so they're a little heavy. I wear them when I'm walking around the farm. Walking is considered mild to moderate exercise, right?”

He grinned. Maybe she did listen to him after all. “Yes. That’s right.”

She placed her left hand over her heart and raised her right. “I promise, I haven't been doing any farm work, and Zephyr's been doing all my deliveries. Even though he absolutely hates it.” She joked.

“I heard. I got the pickles you sent.”

“And?” she asked, with a hesitant smile.

“They were delicious, thank you.” He quickly looked towards the kitchen. “I think I still have the jar if you want it back?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Keep it. I’m glad you liked them. It's the only thing I know how to make, so far. I wanted to get you something more than a cup of coffee to apologize for what I did. I should have listened to you.”

“Well, apology very much accepted.”

…

Harvey paced back and forth behind the desk as he watched SJ examine the radio. She had unscrewed the back panel to try and determine why it refused to turn on. Every so often she would mutter something unintelligible and then say, “Hmm. That's interesting.” which was only making Harvey even more nervous than he already was. Since SJ was sitting in Harvey's desk chair, he brought over a chair from his dining room table to sit next to her.

“So, what do you think?” He finally asked.

“Looks like the wiring's shot. How long have you had this for? It looks older than I am.”

“Honestly. It probably is.”

SJ put down her screwdriver and spun around in the chair to face him. “I hate to say this, but I think it would make more sense to just replace the thing.”

His heart sank to his stomach at the idea of getting rid of his antique radio. “Are you sure you can't fix it?”

She pressed her lips together in what he thought was an attempt at a sympathetic smile. “Come here, I'll show you what I mean.” She spun back around and pointed to a small crack in one of the wires. “The wires are splitting because the rubber coating is all dried out, so when you spilled the coffee, it caused it to spark when it got in those gaps. You waited too long to get it fixed, it's corroded now. I could replace them, but there's a lot of wires here, it would take a while. It might be easier to get a new one at this point.”

“I can't- I... It's got sentimental value.”

“I'm really sorry, doc.”

He sighed. “It's alright. I suppose I knew it wouldn't last forever.”

“Where did you get this thing anyway?” She asked.

“It belonged to my grandfather. He used to be a pilot, but as he got older, his vision started to decline, and he had to give up flying. After he retired, my grandmother bought him this radio as a birthday present so he could contact his pilot friends from the ground. When I realized I would never become a pilot, he offered to teach me how to use it so I could learn how to talk to pilots 'just in case'. I guess he just wanted me to have some hope. I knew it wouldn't happen, but it was still a fun hobby to have. After he passed away, he left the radio to me in his will, and I've been using it ever since. Maybe it's for the best. Planes don't fly over Pelican Town very often anyway, I guess I was just hoping that if I kept trying, I'd eventually find one.”

He looked over at SJ, staring at him with wide eyes and looking like she was on the verge of tears.

“Okay…” She said, her voice cracking slightly.

Without another word, she turned back to the radio and began unwrapping the new roll of wire.

“What are you doing?” Harvey asked.

“What- um.” She cleared her throat. “What does it look like I’m doing? I'm going to fix it for you.”

“Really?” He asked excitedly.

“Yup. I hope you like blue. I'm gonna be using a lot of it.”

…

SJ seemed completely content to sit in silence while she worked, but Harvey thought it would be too awkward if he didn't at least try to make conversation.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked.

“I'm good, thanks.” She replied, without looking up.

Another stretch of silence passed as Harvey tried to think of something else to say.

For as long as he'd known the farmer, he didn't really know that much about her. He just learned she wanted to be an astronaut, perhaps they could talk about space? Although, if she harbored as many negative feelings about her childhood dream not becoming a reality as Harvey did, perhaps it would be a sore subject.

He decided that small talk would probably be best.

“So, how's the farm doing?”

“Farm's good.” She said, measuring a section of the wire. “Zephyr made us a schedule, so now we take turns watering the crops on alternating days. I don't always have time to do it when I'm doing my deliveries, and I really don't like getting up at 6. I'm actually working on putting together a sprinkler system to automate the process.”

“That’s great! I didn’t know you were so good with machines.”

“Not really. Most of them come with instructions. One you see the pattern for how things go together, it’s not too difficult to figure out how to take them apart and fix them. I've built every PC I've owned since I was 16 and I had to replace the wiring in all the lights when we moved into the farmhouse. Don't tell anyone. It's only a matter of time before the town finds out I can do household repairs and I end up adding another line to my business card.” She laughed nervously.

Harvey was in the saloon one night when he overheard Gus telling Emily about SJ's business. It picked up rather quickly after word spread that SJ would hand-deliver anything anyone might need. She was the only one in town other than Marlon who was willing to go into the mines, and the townspeople often took advantage of that.

“I heard you stopped using the notice board and started posting your phone number so people could call you directly.” Harvey remembered passing by the notice board on his way to the general store one day, tempted to take one of the business cards, but he didn't know what he'd do with it.

She cut a new piece of wire and stripped one of the ends off. “I did, yeah. When everyone realized it was just me filling all the orders, I figured they could just call me if they need something. I don't regret it, but it's a lot of work sometimes. Well, you know...” She muttered, glancing down at her stomach.

It had only been a week since SJ had been badly injured by a rock crab and Harvey received a terrifying phone call in the middle of the night. The image of her with her shirt drenched in blood had been burned into his memory ever since. He remembered how angry he was when he found out the request was posted as a joke. That night could have gone a lot worse. If she didn't show up when she did...

Harvey preferred not to think about that.

“And how are you feeling?” He asked.

“A little better every day. The scar looks pretty badass, but it gets really itchy sometimes, is that bad?”

“No, actually, that's good. It means the wound is healing, but please try not to scratch it.”

“Thanks doc,” She grinned. “I'll try.”

“Has... Abigail apologized to you for what happened?”

“I think she learned her lesson.” SJ said, cryptically.

“And what lesson was that?”

“Don't fuck with me.” she said with a smirk, sending a shiver down his spine.

And Maru wondered why people found her intimidating. That right there. Just when he was starting to relax, that sentence was enough to make him squirm. Harvey often wondered where her confidence came from. Even after nearly dying in the mines while fighting monsters, she still wanted to go back. Nothing ever phased her.

He suddenly felt guilty for asking her to fix the radio, she probably had more important things to do than spending her afternoon with him.

“I really appreciate you making time to stop by. I know people ask a lot of you sometimes.”

She cut off one of the old wires from its plug and searched through her backpack, producing a small roll of electrical tape. “It's nice to feel needed. Besides, you're not like them.”

“I'm not?”

What was that supposed to mean? Was that a good thing?

She began counting on her fingers as she listed names. “Alex requests eggs five days a week for his strength training. Elliott has a recurring order for squid ink for writing his book. Pam wants me to start brewing ale for some reason. I'm not even gonna tell you where I get Maru's batteries from. The mayor has me looking for some of his... personal items. Emily already has an order for minerals for the next time I go to the mines-”

Harvey opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“-Yes, I know. No mines for two weeks. I've already marked my calendar.”

Despite his endless protesting to her entering the mines in the first place, he was relieved she was finally listening to his advice about her recovery.

She continued. “Sebastian has my Sundays for helping him with his coding because I'm more familiar with this framework he wants to use, and Gus needs fresh fish and produce for cooking the specials at the saloon. You, on the other hand, have never requested anything.”

“I… suppose I just didn’t want to bother you.”

Harvey never wanted it to seem like he was taking advantage of the farmers kindness. Frankly, he didn’t even need to use the town notice board. The only thing he could ever see himself requesting is coffee, and SJ already brought him coffee several times per week whenever she dropped off Maru’s orders.

While SJ was preoccupied fixing the radio for him, he decided this was the perfect opportunity to return the favor for once.

He subtly glanced over to the kitchen. “Can I get you a coffee or something?”

“Isn’t coffee what got you into this mess in the first place?” she said with a mischievous smile.

He hung his head, stifling a laugh. “True. But I’m serious, I feel bad just sitting here while you work.”

“You're keeping me company.”

“Please, you bring me coffee all the time. I can run over to the Saloon if you prefer theirs.”

She wrapped some electrical tape onto a new connection and plugged it back into the radio. “It's not that. Don't worry about it.”

“It’s no trouble. I was planning on making some anyway.”

She set down the tape she was holding and turned her chair to face him. “I don't actually drink coffee.”

He couldn't tell if she was joking or not. “You- What?”

“Yeah. I just...” she shrugged. “Don't like it. Never have.”

“That doesn't make any sense. Gus said-”

She raised an eyebrow, a touch of amusement on her face. “You talk to Gus about me?”

His face felt warm all of a sudden. “Oh no, of course not! I mean... It was just last week. He asked if I'd seen you because you hadn't come in yet to order your coffee. He said you show up almost every day, so he was worried about you.”

“Oh...” She said, eyes widening in surprise. “Yeah, you weren't supposed to find out about that.” She resumed taping. “I can explain, it's just a bit embarrassing.”

Harvey couldn't fathom the idea of SJ having embarrassing secrets. Whatever it was, it couldn't be any worse than when she found out that Harvey routinely takes part in a dance aerobics class. He was grateful when she promised not to tell anyone, but he hadn't forgotten the look on her face that day when she walked into Caroline's house and saw him in his workout clothes with all the moms in town.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

“It's fine, I guess I can laugh about it now. I walked into the saloon one day to bring Gus the produce he ordered from the farm, and he offered me a cup of coffee for the road. He already had it made and I didn't want to be rude. So, I took it, and since my next stop was the clinic, Maru suggested I give it to you instead. Then the next time I went back, Gus offered again, and I couldn't say no because I told him it was good the last time.”

“Why did you tell him it was good if you didn't drink it?”

“Because I panicked when he asked, and you told me it was good so that's what I said.”

“To be fair, it was very good.” He suddenly found himself craving coffee again.

“Anyway, it’s gone on for too long now, and I know coffee is your favorite so I just asked Maru what your usual order is so I could ask for that instead. Now Gus thinks we drink the same kind of coffee.”

“Are you telling me you bring me coffee four times a week because you're too shy to tell Gus that you don't actually like it?” That sounded a lot more judgmental that he meant it to.

“Pretty much.” She nodded. “I had just moved here. I didn't want to be an inconvenience. You know when someone tells you their name and you don't hear them the first time, so you just never use it and hope they don't notice because it’s too late to ask? It was kind of like that.”

Something about the way she said that struck Harvey the wrong way. It was an oddly specific comparison, and suddenly he wondered if there was another reason she only ever called him ‘doc’.

“Are you trying to tell me you don't remember my name?”

She burst out laughing. “No! I know your name. That was just an example.”

“Oh… I got worried for a second there, I don't think you've ever called me by my first name before.”

“I haven't?” she paused for a moment to think about it. “Well shit. I guess I haven't. I'm sorry. Everybody else calls you doctor. Doc just sounds a lot cooler. I can stop if you don't like it.”

Harvey found it very amusing that someone like SJ thought he was cool. “No, it's fine. I like it.”

“It was a poor example I'm sorry. I get really shy around people. It makes me do stupid things sometimes.”

“That's not what I meant. I was just surprised is all. You don't seem like the type of person who gets nervous around anyone. You're friends with everyone in town!”

“No, I'm not.” She chuckled darkly. “They only like me because I bring them stuff. You know they call me the “Town Gopher” behind my back because I'll bring them anything they ask for?”

“No… really? Even after... the incident?”

She nodded, sadly. “Yeah.”

“Oh... I didn't know that.”

Harvey didn't want to admit it out loud, at the risk of letting her think he was a loser with no friends, but he also felt distant from the townspeople. He couldn't help but feel guilty that he had no idea what was going on.

“Yeah. It doesn’t matter anyway. They’re still paying me. They don’t have to like me.” She said dismissively. Clearly it wasn’t Harvey that she was trying to convince.

“I’m sure they like you just fine. What’s not to like? I’m sure they at least appreciate all the hard work you do for the town. I definitely appreciate it.” He said in an attempt to cheer her up.

She let out a huff of a laugh, almost as if she didn’t believe him. “Thank you. That means a lot. I’m sorry, I don't mean to dump this on you, but I know you of all people will understand.” She went back to replacing wires and avoiding eye contact.

“It's fine, but what do you mean by that?”

She didn't look up. “I mean, you're not just a doctor, literally everyone in town is one of your patients.”

“And the next few towns over.” Harvey added.

“Really?”

“Yes. ‘Town Doctor’ is more of an honorary title. I’m actually the only licensed physician for about 20 miles in any direction. Closest hospital is about an hour from here.”

“Damn… I didn’t know that.” She blinked a few times, staring blankly at the wire in her hand. Harvey almost detected some concern in her face. “Either way. I can't imagine it's easy to get close to someone who knows your entire medical history.”

“That's true... They like you, and they respect you because of what you do for the town, but you still feel like an outsider among them.”

“Exactly! See, you get it. I just don't know how to approach people unless I have to. It's hard to walk up to someone like, 'Hey, let's be friends.' You know?”

He nodded. “I do.”

Harvey had no idea SJ felt this way too. He thought back to all the nights he spent alone at the saloon, and he realized he never really saw SJ interacting with any of the townspeople outside of her deliveries.

She was just as alone as he was.

…

After SJ reattached the last screw, she picked up the power cord for the radio, staring at it for a moment. “Okay... You ready?”

“It's done?” Harvey asked.

“Yup.” SJ got up from the chair, knelt down, and reached under the desk to plug in the radio. It lit up almost immediately.

“You did it!” He didn't mean to sound so surprised.

“You might want to make sure it works first.”

“Let's see.” They switched chairs so Harvey could sit at the desk and put on his headset. After messing with the dials on the radio for a minute he adjusted his microphone to test it.

“Hello? This is Dr. H at 52 North, 43.5 East seeking aerial response. Anyone out there?”

“Dr. H?” SJ laughed.

“Shhh.” He said, trying not to laugh as well. “You're not the only one who can go by their initials.”

“Maybe I should call you that instead.”

The radio produced nothing but static.

“So, is it working?” SJ leaned back in her chair, comfortable, but still interested.

“Seems to be. The likelihood of an actual plane flying overhead is slim to-”

Harvey stiffened when a voice from the radio spoke.

“Copy. Dr. H on the ground. This is Blackbird Fiver Fiver Zuzu, anything to report?”

He turned to SJ, who had quickly sat up when she hard the voice. “Someone's there...” He whispered.

“Oh shit.” SJ whispered back, a giddy smile on her face. “Well say something! What are you supposed to say?”

Harvey tried to contain his excitement long enough to respond as he turned back to the radio. “Right. Uhh. Standard ground report. Wind at 3 clicks, 36 degrees North of West. Ground Temperature at 43 kraggs. Humidity 53%. Dr. H out.” He immediately turned off the radio, his hands slightly shaking.

There was a long beat of stunned silence as SJ and Harvey stared at each other, soon dissolving into excited laughter.

“That was so cool!” SJ said. “I can see why you like doing that.”

“I didn’t think that would actually work.” Harvey said, still in shock. “You know we might still be able to see the plane from here.”

SJ was already out of her chair before Harvey had the chance to rip off his headset and join her at the small window next to the desk. Sure enough, off in the distance, a tiny plane was flying over the valley.

“There it is!” SJ said excitedly. “That’s so awesome, I can’t believe you were just talking to him!”

As the two of them watched the plane fly by, Harvey turned to look at the farmer. Seeing her genuine smile while she watched the sky, he thought to himself, perhaps getting a little closer to his patients wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

…

“Thank you so much for your help. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. What do I owe you?” Harvey said as SJ was packing up her tools.

He was already looking around for his wallet when she said, “No need. First ones free.”

“Please, I can't let you do that. Give me a number.”

“Seriously, I had fun today. You've never asked me for anything before. This one's on the house.”

“Do all your customers get that deal?” He said sarcastically.

“Only the ones that say they appreciate me.” She said with a wink as she threw on her backpack.

He sensed that she was joking, but he didn't like the implication that people didn't appreciate her work. Was he really the first one to say that to her?

“SJ, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

SJ was always so confident, Harvey wanted to be confident too. He took a deep breath and simply said what was on his mind without thinking too much about it.

“About what you said earlier... I know exactly how you feel. I don't really have any friends in town either. But I was just wondering, do you think that we could be friends? I'd like to get to know you better. Put aside our doctor-patient relationship.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he could feel his heart pounding. That didn't sound quite as bold in his head.

SJ gave an amused smile, but it quickly faded when she realized he wasn't joking. She looked around, almost as if to see if anyone was listening. “Oh, you're serious…”

He sighed. “I understand, if that's not appropriate or-”

“We’re not friends?” She asked, sounding a little distressed.

“Oh. Well, I mean, I didn’t think you’d ever… you think of me as a friend?”

“Of course I do! Talking to you in the mornings when I bring Maru’s orders is like, my favorite part of my day. You… don’t think of me as a friend?”

“No, I do! I mean… I’d like to! I’m sorry this isn’t where I expected this conversation to go.”

“It’s ok.” She giggled. “I think I get it. We could definitely hang out more. If that's what you're asking.”

He smiled. “Yes. Yes, I'd like that.”

“Cool.” She started to leave, but she stopped in the doorway first and said, “See you around, Harvey.”

Apparently, she did know his name.

…

The next day, Harvey walked into his office to find a hot cup of coffee on his desk with a note attached:

'Next time you want to hang out with me, you can just ask'

- SJ

On the back of the note, was the farmer's cell phone number. He wanted to call her to thank her for the coffee, but when his heart fluttered at the idea of calling her directly, he began to question Maru's theory once again.

He dismissed the feeling as being excited by the fact that they were officially friends. It didn't mean he had feelings for her... right?

… Right??

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

-Next-

38 notes • Posted 2021-09-06 02:53:11 GMT

So it’s like this...

80 notes • Posted 2021-05-12 01:48:22 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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cottonwoolsocks · 4 years

Text

Roman’s Berry Jam

AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: It was only a matter of time before the next Side was given their own Crofter’s Brand jam, and there was little surprise when it was awarded to Janus. Janus deserved it. No Side was more fitting. At least, that was what Roman kept telling himself.

Or; Remus makes his brother a present to try and cheer him up.

Word Count: 2969 Genre: hurt/comfort, canonverse Characters: Roman, Remus, Janus, others mentioned Relationships: Creativitwins, platonic Janus & Roman & Remus

Warnings: food theme, slight gory imagery mention

If I need to tag anything else, let me know!

inspired by this post by @julia-loves-cupcakes because there was no way i could just leave roman like that :(

disclaimer i am thoroughly confused by the correct terminology for this wonderful fruit spread (jam? jelly?? confiture????)(/j), so i shall be referring to it as ‘jam’. hopefully that clears up any related confusions!

———

It came as a surprise to no one when it was announced that Janus would be getting the next Crofter’s flavour. He was well liked, and quick-witted, and a Dark Side, which made for a diverse branding appeal following Logan, the stoic and straightforward Light Side.

When Thomas told Janus the news, Janus had shocked everyone by practically bursting into tears as he clasped the jar, eyeing it as if it may break and scanning the room for any signs of a set-up, a prank, a cruel fabrication. But Logan and Patton, the only other Sides present, had simply smiled, and congratulated him, and voiced their approval. The simple glass jar became almost symbolic of Janus’s acceptance and place in the group.

Janus deserved the achievement.

No Side was more fitting.

At least, that was what Roman kept telling himself.

It would have been ludicrous for Roman to assume he would be next. After all, Roman? He was just another Light Side like Logan—just another character who had been there from the start: who was the same, really, in the eyes of business and branding.

And besides—Roman berries just didn’t exist.

Loganberries were the ideal signature, and snake berries the perfect next equivalent—neither recipe contained either of the named fruits, but that was insignificant to the wider appeal; it was sufficient for display, and advertising, and portraying a certain image, which at the end of the day was what was important.

Roman understood the importance of appearances. He understood why Janus was the ideal next choice.

Janus was suave, had an eye-catching colour scheme, already had well-established snake symbolism in his character. Snake berries were the serendipitous berry on the cake: the apposite mark of his acceptance into the group, the fitting next step in their story as Janus became more popular, as his character gained traction amongst fans.

Roman knew it made sense. He knew it was the rational next step, and that no Side was better suited, and that it was only practical that it was Janus who was to bear this particular crown.

So why, pray tell, was he so disappointed?

He had just assumed, he supposed, that he was more important. More popular. That the loyal prince who had been present from the beginning, who had been star of the show, loved and adored from the get-go, may hold even the smallest of loyalty cards over any who came after.

He had reasoned—foolishly, it seemed now—that his red, white, and gold design, the one he had designed so carefully to raise to perfection, would be ideal for any future product or design or endeavour that could come about—that it balanced the perfectitude of his character, of his design, yet was still bold and eye-catching enough to have an aesthetic impact.

He was a prince. And princes were popular, and celebrated, and loved.

...Weren’t they?

Roman’s hand slips away from the banister at the top of the stairwell as the light catches the label of the jar clutched in Janus’s fingers. He sees how happy, how thankful Janus is, and remembers how Janus is nice to him, Janus is his friend, and he would never wish ill upon his friends.

But as his eyes linger on Thomas’s proud face, Logan’s expression of approval, Patton’s excitement, the way Janus’s gloved hands cradle the jar—he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Of spite.

His hand slips away from the banister, and he turns and walks back along the corridor, back to his room, suggestions of a night of Disney movies dead on his lips and a request for Patton’s baked cookies forgotten, despite how long he had puzzled the previous evening to make sure everything was organised just right, that nobody would be busy, that he had no projects due so he could spend as long as possible with his family.

They know tonight is movie night.

But they have other things to think about now. Other achievements to celebrate. Such opportunities did not come by frequently, and often swept past in but the most fleeting of chances.

He understands. He does.

The door clicks as Roman pulls it shut, collapsing onto his bed and not even flinching as his ankle clips painfully against the bedpost. He breathes in the scent of his duvet, familiarity easing the tension in his shoulders just a fraction as he screws up his fists and eyes.

Princes just aren’t as popular anymore.

It is almost an hour later when there are a flurry of knocks on his door.

He has been listening to the clamour downstairs for some time now, to the celebrations, the cheesy pop music Patton has no doubt judged befitting of the occasion. Roman assumes they don’t want him there, and to be quite honest isn’t sure he wants to go and find out if there is truth in such an assumption, isn’t sure if the celebrations and Janus’s smiling face will simply be too much too soon. He knows he is being selfish—that Janus deserves this, at least—but it’s hard to feel truly happy for someone's achievements when they stand as one of the few things you thought you maybe, just maybe, had a shot at.

There is a rush of air as the door swings open and someone takes a few steps inside, trips, and stumbles inelegantly forward with a barrage of emphatically placed swear words. Roman’s head snaps up, trying subtly to dry his eyes with his uniform sleeve and hoping the redness from the tears that definitely hadn’t been running down his face until only ten minutes prior could by now be passed as exhaustion.

“What do you want?” he snaps, because when does Remus visit him other than to pull a prank, or tease him? Roman is not in the mood—that much he hopes is clear to his brother from his tone and impassive expression. Since Janus’s acceptance into the Light Sides, Remus had largely been keeping himself to himself, popping up to share his usual quips and comments but never lingering longer than necessary, making it even more abnormal for the Dark Side to be making one such entrance now.

Remus looks up, grinning and oblivious to Roman’s disapproval as he straightens his jacket to its usual devoted dysregulation and clips the eyeball decor on his shoulder back into its rightful place.

“Made you a gift!”

Something small and hard and exceptionally pointed makes a target of Roman’s eye and he cries out, batting it away and shielding his face as antagonised tears threaten to escape. He curses, scrambling upright and muttering obscenities under his breath as he glares at his brother.

Remus offers him a grin and a thumbs up as he tries and fails to surreptitiously rectify the rumpled carpet. “No worries, Ro!”

As the pain in his eye begins to subside Roman gingerly pulls his hand away, blinking through the protective tears at the still-vaguely-fuzzy outline of the offending object.

The jar, he finds, fits snugly in his palm, and through the angled glass Roman can see a red, gelatinous substance which on a good day may vaguely resemble jam, if he didn’t know Remus better than that. Scrawled words adorn a label smeared across the front, and although the letters are barely legible, years’ practice decoding his brother’s handwriting on strategically placed, lewd sticky notes and witty comments on the corners of old magazines allows him to more or less determine the phrase:

Roman’s Berry Jam.

Alongside the words is a large heart which looks to have been traced upwards of fifteen times in colours Roman wasn’t even aware could clash quite so horrifically, and a small, golden crown adorns the ‘R’ with a ruby gemstone fixed centre of the tallest spike. The red substance is smeared over most available surfaces and when Roman glances down, he sees it has, naturally, also found its way onto his previously pristine bedsheets—but he can’t find it within himself to mind.

“Is this…?”

“Roman’s Berry Jam! I thought you deserved some, since you are the brave and daring Prince Roman!” And then, more quietly, “You looked disappointed when you saw J get his jar.” He shifts from foot to foot, energetic demeanour fading slightly to something more sombre. “Is it… Did I do good?”

The lid comes off with a satisfying pop as Roman twists it, and the smell of something indistinguishably fruity fills the room.

He almost smiles but forces his face to stay neutral, afraid his delicately arranged mask of indifference will shatter the moment he shows even a sliver more emotion. Remus moves to perch on the edge of Roman’s duvet, kicking his feet back and forward off the edge of the bed. They hit the floor with each backward swing, creating a rhythmical, thunk, thunk, thunk against the carpet as Roman tentatively dips his finger into the substance.

“What’s in this, then?” Roman offers, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with a more eloquent sentence. He is appreciative, truly, but whenever a situation such as this presents itself he always seems to find himself deflecting with a joke or a well-placed distraction, no matter how much this frustrates him. “Blood? Brain juice? Cat guts?”

“All things I did consider,” Remus replies, holding up a finger, “but no. Real berries, real jam! Of some sort. Not sure what sort. There are looooads of berries in the mindscape, you see, so it probably tastes like butts, but I was rather hoping it would be pleasurable—”

“Remus.”

Roman turns to face his brother, offering a watery smile as he clutches the randomised berry mix to his chest. The red is smeared all over his hands and his duvet and his white uniform, and somewhere in the back of Roman’s mind a voice is telling him it will stain, but he simply thanks the voice and pushes it aside in favour of holding the jar even closer.

“I love it.”

Remus’s face visibly eases, a smile swelling as his shoulders relax. “Wonderful; I was sure you were going to say you hated it.”

Roman’s face morphs to one of confusion. “Whyever would I say such a thing?”

Remus’s foot rubs restlessly against his leg as he taps each of his fingers against one another, and examines the ceiling.

“People usually hate the stuff I make.”

In spite of the weight of his words, Remus’s face gives nothing away, as carefree and animated as always as his fingers dance and his feet drum steadily against the carpeted floor. A pang of regret pierces Roman’s chest, because he knows it is true. Has always known it's true, has even taken part, takes part in pushing his brother’s creations down—he practically leads the parade.

But now Roman is thinking about it, Remus portraying a face of constant playfulness inaccurate to his true emotions is no different to what Roman does constantly, is it? Putting on his brave and courageous face to disguise his insecurity?

Roman somewhat reluctantly tastes the jam.

“Sweet bear of Crofter’s,” he mouths around it. “This is outstanding!”

“Of course it is!” Remus fires back, but the anxious way he surveys Roman’s expression says otherwise as he scours for distaste or disgust or tomfoolery. “It is Roman’s Berry Jam, after all! And nothing subpar of perfection could be named after our dearest Prince!”

Roman isn’t so sure about that, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless. Truth be told, he has missed his brother—little as he may rise to admit it. The tears of frustration have receded, leaving in their place a wateriness that he hasn’t felt in all too long, come from happiness, and thanks, and appreciation for those whom he loves.

“Say, would you be interested in a Disney night? Perhaps I’ll even allow you to share my jam.”

Remus grins. “I had disembowelment plans, but I think I can postpone them, for you.”

***

They are halfway through The Little Mermaid, a mixing bowl of Roman’s Berry Jam snug between them, when three sharp knocks echo against the wood of the door. Sharing a glance with Remus, Roman takes a generous scoop of jam and shovels it into his mouth before lodging the spoon upright in the bowl and motioning for Remus to pause the movie as he approaches the door.

Perhaps it was Patton, finally wondering where Roman has been for the whole evening, or Logan to come and share the recent good news he doesn’t know Roman is already painfully aware of. Roman even wonders if it could be Virgil, come to escape from the loud pop music still blaring from the living room downstairs to request a quiet Disney movie or for he and Roman to spend another evening painting each other’s nails, and a myriad of excuses were already running through his brain for how he might decline.

The very last person he expects to see standing uncharacteristically apologetically in the doorway is Janus.

“Buzz off! We’re vibing!” Remus calls from Roman’s bed, catapulting a spoonful of jam for good measure which drastically misses either possible target and instead splats sadly against the doorframe.

A smile tugs Roman’s lips, deciding Remus’s comment speaks enough for the both of them and turning to see what exactly Janus wants from him now.

He’s your friend, the little voice in the back of Roman’s head reminds him, which he is beginning to realise sounds awfully like Patton. His achievements are not an excuse for you to be unkind.

“Good evening, Roman,” Janus says, expression giving little away as he regards him evenly. “I would like to…apologise.”

Roman’s hand slips from its perch on the door handle, brow creasing in confusion and a healthy serving of distrust.

Janus releases a measured exhale, and continues, “I didn’t see you at the top of the stairwell earlier this evening, when Thomas presented the Crofter’s. I’ve been trying to get away all evening since then, but”—he sighs frustratedly, and his eyelids momentarily flutter in distaste—“the others were...adamant that I remain downstairs to celebrate. I was not only just able to slip away as I convinced Patton to change the music to something less repugnant.”

As if on cue, the bubbly pop music echoing from the living room switches to a more sombre jazz number, and Janus’s eyes flick towards the stairwell.

“I find it important that I inform you I did not orchestrate tonight’s turn of events, and quite frankly I believe it unjust that you were not, at the very least, consulted on such a decision, especially given your earlier enthusiasm.”

Remus tosses another spoon of jam, this one smacking directly into the centre of Janus’s bowler hat.

His eyes flutter closed as he visibly bites back a retort.

“Remus, kindly desist.”

Remus cackles and begins to load another spoon, but a subtle shake of the head from Roman has him sighing dramatically, choosing instead to sulk as he plops the spoon into his mouth. “Jam war,” he mumbles disappointedly.

Janus gives Roman a curt nod of thanks, adjusting his gloves and turning to leave, looking vaguely embarrassed. “Well, that’s all I came to say, so I shall be on my way.”

“Janus, I—”

Janus turns, looking puzzled and a little perturbed as his nose crinkles slightly. Roman rocks back on the balls of his feet, and comes to a decision, avoiding Janus’s gaze as he offers his next words.

“Would you care to join Remus and I in our Disney marathon?”

Janus’s eyes flick to one side and he waits for a moment, as if expecting for Roman to change his mind or for Remus to come charging out with another spoonful of jam aimed at his head.

When nothing of the sort occurs, his expression softens. Just a little.

“Yes. I would like that.”

Roman steps back to allow Janus through the doorway, and swings the door closed behind him with a click.

***

Remus stretches his leg out further, sprawling himself ever wider over the space available to him which consists approximately of his third of the bed and as much of Roman’s space as he can liberate without being apprehended. His jam is a success, he is spending time with Janus again, and the genuine appreciation emanating from his brother is almost palpable. Just for good measure, he smears a little of the jam onto Roman’s nose. Just to remind him he’s still there.

Roman’s nose scrunches as the substance makes contact, but he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead, he just elbows his brother softly, achieving more of a gentle sway while crushed under most of Remus’s weight. He smiles, and takes another spoonful of jam.

Janus shakes his head fondly. He hasn’t seen Remus nearly as often since being accepted by the Light Sides, and much as some of Remus’s more...inventive antics...used to irritate him, he has found himself missing his constant predictable unpredictability. It is nice—refreshing—to see him again: especially without the usual weight of all the words yet unspoken between them. But that is business for another time.

Roman supposes that, even if he hasn’t got his own Crofter’s flavour just yet, Remus’s Roman Berry Jam is certainly the next best thing, even with the assortment of greenery he had found in the spread that he isn’t entirely sure was intentional. It was better, even, because Roman’s Berry Jam comes with a complimentary friend-brother combo (cuddles included), an eve of Disney movies, and, finest of all, the feeling that however much he may feel he isn’t good enough, or liked enough, or successful enough, he is appreciated. And for now—for this one, anomalous evening—that is all that he needs.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides fanfic #janus sanders #creativitwins #thomas sanders #rian writes #fanfic #tw food #tw gore mention #taglists to follow!#ts remus #ts roman #ts janus

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years

Text

Roll Your Eyes (One More Time)(Part Two)

Note: I know this probably seems like it doesn’t follow the prompt, but I swear I just take inspiration weirdly lmao. Word Count: 2,373 Prompt: The Wanderer

Day: 12/27 Sole wasn’t fond of recovery units and the stench of antiseptics, the way the ward was so busy yet so quiet at the same time. They could pick out the stench of burn cream from a mile away, the result of more grenades being thrown after they managed to get Danse and his tin can dragged to another room. They’d lost more than a handful of good soldiers that day, soldiers Sole knew all too well, and they weren’t sure they could do it anymore.

Maybe it was the fact that they had almost lost the steadiest thing in their life; a long time rivalry with one of the most prominent Brotherhood soldiers. Maybe it was the fact that they weren’t born into the time, where losing the people you cared about was more than normal, more than common. It was eating at Sole, though. If they had been another minute later, if the grenade had made it any closer... They chewed at the skin around their nails, looking over at Danse, where he laid unconscious on the hospital cot.

He wasn’t knocked out for too long after they got him back to the Prydwen, a combination of the pain from the doctors treating his wounds and the fact that one of the people carrying him had knocked him straight into a doorway due to the Prydwen shifting. He needed as much rest as he could get, though. The injuries weren’t terminal but he wasn’t in the greatest shape and straining himself anytime soon would put him out of work. Permanently. Sole knew that was the biggest way to scare Danse into listening.

They only visited when he was asleep, creeping in, light on their feet to avoid disturbing him. It was hard to ignore the way the doctors shot them looks when they poked their head in after being told Danse had finally gotten back to sleep. Judgement or fondness, they couldn’t decide, but it wasn’t something they enjoyed.

Once again, they had snuck in after a passing soldier had nudged them and told them that Danse was asleep. They brought a book this time, grateful they were on a short break, and curled up in the chair across from his bed, glancing up from the words every now and then to make sure he was still breathing. Why? They weren’t sure. They didn’t know why they visited so often, couldn’t put the words together to brush off the teasing directed their way about their disgust for Danse turning into something else and “Everyone saw it coming” comments.

Sole refused to spend any time dwelling on those thoughts, or acknowledge the fact that the disgust had indeed left their chest whenever they saw Danse, and instead was replaced by a bubble of concern for his well being. What that meant, they didn’t know. They didn’t want to find out, either.

It was exhausting to be so concerned all the time and they weren’t sure they’d last much longer. Initially, they planned on putting off their resignation from their position until Danse was awake and ready to talk. More coherent. As much as they didn’t get along, he was the one who recruited them, sponsored them, and if anyone was owed an explanation other than Elder Maxson, it was him. But they were so, so tired of wondering if another one of the soldiers in the intensive ward was going to pass in the night, and the first thing they would hear in the morning would be that another friend had left them.

So they packed up their bags one night, making sure to leave behind anything Brotherhood issue, and set them to the side, out of sight so no one would make a comment. It was hard to hide the way they would suspiciously shuffle whenever someone would mention upcoming missions, but luckily, no one saw through the way they would simply nod in agreement and look away.

After a Paladin from that day passed, just barely having turned seventeen, Sole knew they weren’t going to last any longer. They had to get out before the feeling of fear and loss suffocated them and they were trapped on the Prydwen for the rest of their days, claustrophobic and terrified. The last night they spent in Haylen’s quarters, sharing a cup of coffee and discussing pre-War literature, giving away nothing that they were about to run from everything they’d worked so hard to achieve. No, not run. They weren’t a coward. They simply weren’t made to watch people die over and over again.

Haylen bid them a good night and didn’t comment on the fact that instead of heading down the stairs to their own quarters, they were headed up. To Maxson’s. With a breath they paused in front of his door, head bowed, eyes squeezed shut. Maybe they didn’t have to do this, maybe they would regret it. But when they closed their eyes all they saw on replay was Danse being thrown through the wall, his body slamming against the ground, and the way they struggled to get him to keep his eyes open.

After that it wasn’t exactly hard to build up the courage to knock sharply against Elder Maxson’s door. He opened it and raised an eyebrow, silently inquiring as to why they were bothering him so late at night. “Can I come in? We need to talk.” Sole asked, their hands clasped in front of them, shoulders tense.

Maxson scanned them carefully, eyeing them for any weapons or ill intentions. Then, he stepped aside and gestured into the room swiftly, not wanting to waste his time. Sole stepped in and listened to the door click shut resolutely behind them.

The following morning they left, bags packed and strapped to their shoulders, their dog tags tucked into their shirt; Maxson had finally found his kind streak and allowed them to keep them, on the condition that he would allow them to be taken forcefully if they were using them to impersonate the Brotherhood. They ignored the confused looks passing members shot them as they made their way past a patrol that was heading out, instead hiking the strap of their bag higher on their shoulder and walking faster. If they could make it out before news made it back to Danse, they were golden. They really didn’t feel like him yelling at them over intercom since he couldn’t get out of bed.

Leaving was easier than they thought it would be, though a sting of regret struck once they were off Brotherhood territory. They’d forgotten to leave a letter to Danse in explanation, they were so busy trying to explain themself to Elder Maxson the previous night. They shot a quick prayer to every God they could think of to not run into Danse in the future. The way he would chew them out incessantly would be more than painful if they did see him again.

Once they’d made it back to Sanctuary and settled in, unpacking their bags as they thought about everything they’d gone through in the Brotherhood up until that point, they broke out their gloves and headed out to the fields. There was something beautiful about the sweat and blood that went into farming. No one died from watering the corn and turning the soil, and for that, Sole was more than grateful.

Precisely one week went by before they were alerted by Preston to a small group arriving at the front gates of Sanctuary. Something in Sole just knew. It was Danse, and they were about to experience the lecture of a lifetime, and they didn’t have the energy to throw back their usual rebuttals. How would he even understand? He’d grown up in that mess, grown up losing people left and right like it was nothing. And sure, it broke him, but to him that was normal. Sole let out a deep breath and rolled their eyes before tugging their gloves off and stepping out of the gate to meet them.

Sure enough, Danse was being flanked by four Brotherhood soldiers, who started to smile and wave when they saw them, but were quickly shot down with a single glare from Danse. Danse folded his arms over his chest, the metal clanging as irritatingly as ever, and directed his nasty expression straight at them. They almost flinched. Almost. “We need to talk.” His voice was raspier than it had been before. Then again, getting blown up would do a lot of things to you.

They clenched their jaw and scanned him for a moment, trying to judge what damage was left from what he had gone through. There was nothing too visible, but he was definitely putting more weight on his left leg. Sole ran their tongue across their teeth, wondering if something had done permanent damage. “Alright.” They agreed, surprising him. “You boys can head into the bar. Tell Amber it’s on me.” They directed a warm smile to the soldiers behind him. They were no stranger to the fact that they could probably use some sort of break.

Danse shook his head at this, but said nothing and watched them leave. Sole turned and headed back to their home, not bothering to look back to wave Danse on to follow them. His footsteps echoed ominously behind them, a sound they fought themself not to msis, but other than the impending temper tantrum he was sure to have about honor, it was reassuring to know someone reliable had their back at the moment. They’d all too often felt exposed, walking through the Wasteland without the sound of a metal soldier behind them.

Sole, unenthusiastic as ever, pushed open their door and gestured inside, and watched in annoyance as Danse released himself from the metal contraption he walked around in. Yeah, he was definitely favoring his leg. They sucked air between their teeth. There was no way he was coping well with that; he struggled with feeling like he was doing well enough even before he got injured, and they were sure he was on strict orders not to overdo it, even though that was all he knew.

“What are we talking about?” Sole shut the door behind him, maybe a little too harshly, and moved to lean against the wall.

Danse turned on them with a glare straight out of an old school comic book. They sighed. There was no beating around the bush with him. “You abandoned post.” He fixed his eyes on them and casually leaned his hip against the back of the couch. Yeah, something had definitely happened to his leg.

“I was discharged by Elder Maxson.” They shot back, glancing down at his leg.

“And why wasn’t I informed of this before you left?” His tone had gotten significantly colder.

Sole sighed. “I left in a hurry. I meant to leave a note or something. Honestly, I didn’t even think you’d notice.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been visiting every day since… I’m not stupid, Soldie- Sole. I just got injured in combat, protecting you.”

They froze, mid shake of their head. “You were asleep.”

Danse was the one to roll his eyes that time. “You mumble when you read. It woke me up every time. Plus, you’re not exactly the stealthiest.”

Sole scoffed. “I saved your ass once because I’m stealthy, so now I know you’re lying.”

“You read the book you always keep in your foot locker until three days in, when the scribes scavenged a copy of Alice In Wonderland.”

They had no retort to that. Shit. He really was awake when they went in there. They tried so hard to brush it off, and simply shrugged. “Is there a point to this.”

“You came into the ward every day after I got injured and read, on breaks and during your free time, when you thought I was asleep. And then you up and vanish without a word?” He was spitting out the words like they disgusted him.

“What’s. Your. Point.”

“I’m so sick of the mixed signals you give out!” Danse threw his arms up and turned away from them.

Sole was definitely used to the Paladin’s anger, even revelled in it at one point, but this was new. Usually his anger was cool and calm, stern and biting, but never did it have any outward energy. It was like a switch had flipped. They shifted in discomfort; they didn’t know how to react to this version of Danse. “What happened to your leg?”

“I got thrown through a wall. And you’d know exactly what happened if you stuck around and asked instead of sneaking around and then jumping ship because you’re too scared.”

That was not going to fly. They weren’t a coward, and he knew that was the one way to get them riled up every time, like clockwork. Sole strode forward easily, eyes narrowed in fury. “Scared of what, huh? What the hell was I scared of, Danse?”

He turned and looked at them before shifting forward. It wasn’t far, but then, with the way they were trying to get in his face out of anger, he didn’t need to move very much. He grabbed their jaw between his hands and kissed them. Out of frustration or pure expression of what he was trying to spit out from the moment he’d saved their life, he didn’t know. Both, probably.

Sole definitely wasn’t expecting that, but after a moment, they relaxed and rested their hands on his shoulders, kissing back, as they weren’t one to let someone catch them off guard for long. When Danse pulled away and stared at them intently, they raised an eyebrow. “You’re frustrating, you know that? I’ve been trying to get on your good side from the beginning, wondering why I saw any hope in you, and all you do is get under my skin and piss me off.” His voice wasn’t harsh, more breathy than anything.

They laughed and rolled their eyes. “So I’ve been told.”

Danse shook his head. “God, you piss me off when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Roll your eyes.”

“If you insist.”

Before they could think to make another gesture, Danse kissed them hard.

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fo4f #Fallout 4 February #Oneshot #Imagine #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fluff #Angst #Enemies to Lovers #Danse #Paladin Danse

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kingsman-bigbang · 7 years

Text

[2017] BIG BANG SUMMARIES

Please make a note of the code/number(s) of the fics you are interested in. You will be asked to pick your top 3 (using the bolded codes above the prompt, i.e. BB01, etc.) in order of preference when claims go live. AUTHORS: If you do not see your summary listed but you submitted a fic to us please email the mods ASAP.

PLEASE READ THROUGH THE POST DETAILING MECHANICS BEFORE ASKING ANY QUESTIONS REGARDING THE CLAIMS PROCESS.

CLAIMS WILL GO LIVE APRIL 27TH, 9:00 CST. LINK TO TIME & DATE CONVERTER.

BB01.

Title: Galahad and Mr. Unwin Pairing: Harry/Eggsy Rating: Teen Word Count: 27k (will increase as I edit – this is still a VERY rough draft!) Warnings: Civilian!Eggsy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Graphic Violence, Implied Torture, Reference to Past Abuse Summary: When a mission goes tits up, Harry is forced to hand over sensitive data to a random civilian in order to keep it from falling into the wrong hands. Unfortunately he also happens to be very attracted to the young man in question. And then he learns the identity of his mysterious helper, and suddenly Harry’s life will never be the same again.

BB02.

Title: By the Sword and Ring Pairing(s): Harry/Eggsy Rating: M Word Count: 47,330 Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence Summary/Synopsis: Eggsy is driven out of his village by Dean for practicing magic, and in the process falls into a nearly frozen river. He’s rescued from the river by Harry and Merlin, and goes to live with them and the Kingsman. (They’re a nomadic tribe in this case.) In exchange for a tent and supplies, he trains with Merlin to become a battle mage. They end up locked in a war with Valentine who is attempting to spread dark magic in a bid for control over humanity in order to fix it. Eggsy is betrayed by Charlie, and kidnapped. Valentine tries to compel him to kill Harry but in the end he turns and stabs Valentine dead. (This idea came about in order to satisfy my need for Eggsy in furs.)

BB03.

Title: of flowers and fireflies Pairing(s): Merlin/Eggsy Rating: E Word Count: 43535 Warnings: Referenced Minor Character Deaths Summary/Synopsis: Eggsy is a familiar. For many human lifetimes, familiars live waiting for a call from one of the populations magic users. During their time of waiting, they seek out magical sanctuaries for their kind. Eggsy and Lee are on their way to one such place when tragedy strikes, and only Eggsy makes it to his new home at the Hart estate sanctuary.

Merlin is a magic user. After the death of his family, Merlin is taken in by the Hart family on their estate. It's there, growing up beside Harry, that he first learns of his magical abilities and struggles with growing up without the support of a magical family.

Even though their paths cross while growing up on the estate, it isn't until many years later when Merlin performs a summoning for a familiar that they connect. A friendship grows to something more while the two learn to navigate their newly formed bond.

BB04.

Title: darling, so it goes Pairing(s): Harry/Eggsy Rating: E Word Count: 26K~ Warnings: alcoholism, PTSD, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, established relationship, break up and make up, graphic depiction of past abuse, relationship problems, drug dealing and human trafficking, mission fic Summary/Synopsis: Told through a series of vignettes, conversations and flashbacks, this follows the story of Harry and Eggsy post V-Day, and the people that surround them, as they begin their relationship. Fraught with the typical inherent complications of any new love, those of living in bliss and learning hidden flaws, they both struggle with coming to terms with their own expectations and limitations, Harry’s trauma from Kentucky and how he copes, Eggsy’s abusive childhood and how it’s shaped him as a person. It leads them down a troubling path as they navigate through the mess left behind as they discover the consequences of keeping secrets, even as spies; what it means to live in the past while staring down the future; and the difficulty of forgiveness. These hardships ultimately send Eggsy halfway across the world, trying to escape what he thinks is the end of what he and Harry have, before he finally can understand what it means to not just love but to be in love, even when the one you love isn’t perfect.

BB05.

Title: Death Came for Him & He Became Death Pairing(s): merlin/eggsy (mostly preslash) Rating: T Word Count: 21,113 Warnings: lots of death, some violence Summary/Synopsis: When Eggsy was a child, a man came and told him his Da was dead. He gave Eggsy a fob in case he ever needed a favour. Eggsy couldn’t figure out why his Mum never talked about the posh man. And one day he crashed a car and ended up in custody and called in that favour. And there was the posh man not looking like he aged a bit in 17 years, who had to explain a few things to Eggsy and decided to offer Eggsy a chance at a job.

And Eggsy figured being a Grim Reaper sounded sort of interesting. What was he doing with his after life anyways? So now he is haunting an estate in the country, has a ghost puppy, a new best friend, and two men teaching him insane things, and he is learning that the universe is more unfathomable than he could have ever understood while alive.

A retelling of Kingsman where instead of being spies they are all Grim Reapers.

BB06.

Title: make like stars dying Pairing(s): Roxy/Gazelle; side pairings: past Percival/James, references to Harry/Eggsy Rating: M Word Count: 47024 Warnings: death of minor characters, brief mention of non-con/torture, canon-typical violence Summary/Synopsis: The mission is supposed to be simple, a way to tie up some loose ends in the aftermath of V-Day, but an unexpected complication ends up putting Roxy at risk of being labelled a traitor by the very organisation to whom she’s sworn life, limb, and loyalty while forcing her to re-evaluate everything she’s ever known about herself.

BB07.

Title: I’m going to get there the only way I know Pairing(s): Harry/Eggsy + ensemble cast Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 34,000 Warnings: canon-typical violence, some unorthodox use of body parts but not in a sex way Summary/Synopsis: Outside the church in Kentucky, Harry realizes that the centers of aggression aren’t the only things that have awoken in his mind. The thing that is fizzing in his veins isn’t anger. It’s power. Electric, vibrant. Magical. In another universe he might have died here. But in this universe, Harry ends up with a few more tricks up his sleeve. Valentine (literally) isn’t going to know what hit him.

BB08.

Title: No Matter How Far Pairing(s): Harry/Eggsy Rating: Explicit Word Count: 21.5k Warnings: None Summary/Synopsis: Eggsy looked around, scanning for anything out of the ordinary — well anything other than a weird arsehole in a £5,000 suit — but really, what else was he going to do. “Yeah, all right,” he grumbled and had to jog down the steps and after him to catch up. Damn those bloody long legs. He sneaked another glance at them and the bloke tutted with a sly glint in his eye.

“Do keep up.”

Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, old man.”

He laughed — hard. “Oh, Eggsy, you have no idea.”

Or, a Doctor Who fusion in which Harry is the Doctor (of a sort), Eggsy his companion, Kingsman an amalgamation of UNIT/Torchwood (which somehow still has the mansion and ridiculous trials), and Valentine an evil alien out to control the Earth with SIM cards — but this is all a very bastardised fusion of Doctor Who, so no knowledge of the show required. There is still travel through time and space though. Also, people keep chasing Eggsy and he’s just really fucking done with everything, thanks.

BB09.

Title: Whatever Is, Is Good Pairing(s): Harry/Merlin, pre-Harry/Merlin/Eggsy Rating: E Word Count: 20036 Warnings: No Summary/Synopsis: Harry Hart should not be allowed within fifty feet of tiny runty puppies because he loses all reason. When he finds an abandoned teacup schnauzer searching for food in the bins, he immediately decides he’s going to be its mother and brings it home to love forever. Obviously he doesn’t stop to consider the fact that he’s out of the country more often than not so all the actual looking after is going to fall on Merlin, who has a deep disdain for people who make their dogs wear clothes and thinks anything smaller than a wolfhound is basically a pointless rodent.

Meanwhile, Eggsy is floundering on probation after grassing up Dean and his thugs in return for escaping jail time for his part in all their previous criminal activity. Life is looking pretty bleak, no money and no prospects - until he meets a ridiculous eccentric couple and their amazing little dog, and is hired as its nanny.

Contains deeply inappropriate use of the phrases “good boy”, “bad boy”, and “where’s your squeaky balls?”

BB10.

Title: More Like Guidelines Pairing(s): Eggsy Unwin / Harry Hart possibly Eggsy Uniwn / Harry Hart / Merlin Rating: M Word Count: 20k~ Warnings: Not many besides past child abuse off screen spousal abuse not very on screen classic stuff we see in the Movie- my language- fantasy - pirates - swashbuckling - boss women. Summary/Synopsis: Blood, Salt, and Water. I’ll find you, dear sister, I swear by the tides.

Our young Ruffian Eggsy is not so down with this uppity Privateer bloke Harry Hart but whatever if it helps him get his sister Daisy back there is little he isn’t willing to put up with. Hey if it gets him on a boat out in the ocean and past the Sea of Long Knives he’s down. But some utter dick decides to crash his party or there is more to Harry Hart then first assumed and while he was having Eggsy tag along on this little venture he failed to mention the apparently end of times weapon they were picking up. Whats a guy to do but steal a ship become a traitorous pirate and do things the old fashioned scummy way.

Commandeering whatever he needs to get the job done with a rag tag group of disillusioned soldiers + one guy still under deep illusions and half the rest of the nations military after him. They should have known better than to mess with an Unwin.

#2017: bb summaries

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