“I’m getting really tired of pretending I’m not evil,” says Harry into Eggsy’s ears, an edge of righteous frustration tinges his voice and it makes Eggsy shiver slightly. He clutches the items in his hands a tad tighter, careful not to shift the blanket too much in an effort to hide the front of his trousers. After all, they are the only clothing he has left on his body.
He huffs out a ragged breath, looks at the cards in his hands, hears the timer beeping sound signalling the count down and bites his lower lip. Whatever they usually say about being double spy, he’s definitely rethinking his choices now.
It is a Saturday night in January, and Eggsy is playing the Uno game of his life.
They’re all sitting on the floor of Harry’s house, the six of them forming an awkwardly placed hexagon of lounging spies in plain clothes, or lack thereof.
Looking around, Eggsy takes in the current status of everyone in the room, noting how his enemies’ facial expressions vary and calculating their demise by the exposure of their skin.
James is resting his head on his husband’s right thigh, he has given up in the first round, being that person who thinks this is a simple sleepover and happily arrives wearing a one-piece pjs. Unlike him, Percival’s stubborn streak carries him to almost winning three times, all of them foiled by one Roxy Morton.
The unexpected winner of the second round, a novice at this form of entertainment, Merlin, is a seasoned agent despite not being on the field all that much, his furrowed brows and the hard lines of his mouth tell Eggsy he is in a precarious situation. Eggsy smirks, their handler will be the next to go then.
Then he glances at Roxy who’s just right in front of him. She’s a worthy opponent, bright and sharp, closer to his age, equally unpredictable and not at all easy to read. Her poker face reveals nothing, but her eyes say that if you dare mess with her, you’ll never get out of this in one piece. Beside Percival, she’s the only other person who still has almost all of her clothes on.
In addition to being the most wicked, Eggsy’s best friend is also the mastermind for this whole charade of strip-Uno. The body speaks louder than the mouth, she said, it was bullshit but hey, any chance to get Harry naked is a chance Eggsy will take. Unfortunately, his crush for him is by far his biggest liability.
Eggsy tilts his head to his left, which is where Harry presently sits, and whispers, “Then unleash hell, I’ll cover you.”
The man gives him a sunny smile, one that shows his dimples and the crinkles at his eyes, it sends warmth radiating all over Eggsy’s cheeks and tummy. Harry’s smile is just as devastating as his next action, which involves calmly putting down a wild draw four card.
Upon seeing it, Merlin simply stands up and buries his head into the cushions.
Roxy, unfazed by the whole thing, takes out red card with the skip symbol on it, determinedly ignoring the burning looks her mentor is shooting at her. Percival shifts to take off his socks. Both of them still have two cards on hand.
Eggsy locks eyes with Harry as he sets a red two card on top of the pile, it is now or never.
Harry doesn’t take his eyes off Eggsy when he throws in his wild draw four card and says amidst the groaning from the other three players, “I win. That means I get to choose the next game.”
“And what would that be, Arthur?” says Roxy.
Standing up and taking Eggsy’s hand to pull him along, Harry announces clearly to the room, “Seven minutes in Heaven. We’ll go first. And don’t start the clock.” And they march with lightning speed to Harry’s bedroom.
Once the door is closed, Eggsy finds himself being pushed, he goes without a fight, on the bed which Harry sleeps in every night.
Harry’s hands and kisses descend upon his half-naked body and Eggsy tries to keep his moans to a minimum as he licks and kisses back. He is melting outward and inward at the same time, his traitorous heart wants to leap out of its cage and become one with Harry’s.
Divesting Eggsy’s trousers, Harry says without pausing, “Don’t bite your lips, this room is the only one in the house that is soundproofed.”
Eggsy tugs Harry onto him, cups the man’s face and opens his mouth for a long, heady kiss, tasting wine and dark chocolate and mint. His hands automatically go to grope Harry’s arse and presses his growing bulge to Harry’s hips, eliciting a growl from the older man. Eggsy smiles and changes the angle of his rolling hips, which proves to be a brilliant move because it makes Harry drop his head on Eggsy’s shoulder and bite at the warm flesh.
Letting out a sound not unlike a whimper, Eggsy says, “Did you know our intention all along?”
Harry chuckles. “I was reliably informed by miss Morton what would happen, yes.”
“Damn, and here I thought I was doing a good job of seducing you and getting you naked,” says Eggsy as he discards Harry’s last remaining garment and kicks his own trousers off the bed.
His tongue darting out to lick the teeth mark on lightly tanned skin, Harry whispers, tone serious, “Don’t be daft, Eggsy. People don’t work for what’s already in their hands,” and since he needs to drive the point home, Harry takes Eggsy’s hand and presses it against his chest, “this is a worthless old thing, but it’s yours if you want it.”
Fighting the urge to cry and laugh at the same time, Eggsy envelopes Harry into a hug and returns Harry’s words to him, “Don’t be daft, Harry. People don’t reject what’s they’ve been dreaming of for three years.”
Tag: fic
psa
The incubi + Diana and Saero reacting to their S/O saying they love them for the first time?
James: When you’d interrupted his readings, James had no idea it would be to say that you love him. It’s a rather pleasant surprise and he easily returns the phrase back to you, beckoning you closer so he could tell you not only with his words, but with his actions.
Erik: Surprised at first, Erik quickly covers up that reaction with one of his smoothest smiles as he pulls you in close. He’s been telling you all this time that he loves you and to finally hear the same phrase from your lips? He felt like he was finally in the heaven the both of you deserved.
Sam: For a moment, you don’t think Sam has heard you because he doesn’t react at all. Then the color comes, an embarrassed flush making its way from his cheeks to the rest of his face all the way to his ears. He starts mumbling, absolutely flustered; don’t just sneak those things into a conversation like that!
Matthew: A bit shocked that you had been the one to say it first, Matthew stares a bit wide eyed. He’d always imagined himself being the first to admit it, but seeing that you were the one didn’t bother him at all. In fact, the first thing he does is reciprocate the sentiment.
Damien: Of course, he could hear you saying it all the time in his mind. Everything he did, you seemed to echo that three word phrase in your head over and over again. Still, it didn’t make hearing it from your voice any less special when you finally did vocally profess your love to Damien.
Diana: This could be your last moment seeing her as she readied herself to fight the Demon Lord, so the words only seemed right to say. Diana pauses in her preparations when she hears you, fixing you with a gentle smile. This wasn’t going to be the last time she heard you say those words, she promised you that.
Saero: You had said it in passing, almost as if it were a random phrase that had only just come to mind. Saero almost missed it the way you said it so nonchalantly and, when he realized, a flush of color crossed his cheeks. You couldn’t expect him to say it so easily the first time too, could you?
A cute, romantic scenario of the MC taking Diana to the mall?
“We have something like this back home.”
Of course, as Diana stared down at the cold treat you had purchased for the both of them
—a form of crystallized milk you had called ice cream
—she couldn’t actually recall seeing anything like it at all. She had been lying through her teeth, wanting to seem at least a little bit more knowledgeable about the delectable treat than she actually was. It didn’t exactly work with you.
“Oh?” You brow quirked in question. “What’s your favorite flavor?”
Diana knew when she was caught in a lie. Instead of admitting to it, she looked around the expansive place the two of you were in. People bustled around the hallways, coming in and out of stores that she couldn’t even imagine. She had been told that this place
—this mall
—was like an indoor market, where different shops sold different wares all for different prices. She thought it would make her feel comfortable and at home to be in a place similar to what she was used to, but the mall was certainly not anything like a local bazaar in the Abyssal Plains.
“The sweet kind,” she mumbled slowly after a rather long pause, unsure if it was the right answer.
Smiling, you decided not to embarrass her any further. Despite being so confident in herself, the rare moments where she flustered with her lack of knowledge were what you cherished the most sometimes.
“Then I suppose you’ll like the flavor I chose,” you commented, holding a spoonful up to her lips.
Hesitantly, she took the bite you offered. Eyes widening as the subtle taste of vanilla melted on her tongue, Diana moved her gaze from you to the little bowl of sweet, frozen cream. If this is what the mall had to offer her, then she was sure she liked it more than any bazaar she had ever been to.
we’ll cast some light and you’ll be alright
so i finished a fanfic for the first time in almost exactly four years! will wonders never cease? it’s a short silanto h/c fic set a fairly short time after canon. there are discussions of serious stuff, but i promise it’s also very fluffy and sweet!
My family is not very religious most of the time. We pray at Christmas and Easter and Thanksgiving dinners, and my mom’s entire side of the family excluding her parents and siblings is hardcore religious so whenever we do anything with them it’s kind of religious.
But the point is, most of the time we aren’t, but every year at Christmas time, a church in the next town over puts on a Bethlehem and it’s kind of a tradition to go. They go all out. The building is massive, and they’ve got it all decked out. There’s animals and stalls and everyone is in costume and in character. When you get there, they give you some pennies and you can go and barter for cool little trinkets, and there’s other more expensive things you can buy with your own money. And they have the best apple cider. All in all, it’s pretty cool.
But anyway. We go every year, bundled up in hats and scarves and mittens, and have a good time. We’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember, and my mom talks about going when she was a kid.
I’m going to mention again that everyone is massively in character, especially the really super hardcore religious adults. Because this is an important fact.
Every year since I was about thirteen or so, there’s been this one lady who worked at a stall selling ponchos (I have, like, three. They’re really cool). She was probably there before that, but I was thirteen when she started trying to barter for me to marry her son, who was also about thirteen.
“What a pretty little thing. I think you’d make a very good wife for my son. These are your parents? I’ll give you six goats for your daughter’s marriage to my son.”
Her son, meanwhile, is in the “shop” behind her looking absolutely mortified and like he’d rather be anywhere else than there, and I’m pretty sure I probably looked just as embarrassed.
My parents gave her some sort of excuse, like it wasn’t enough goats or they weren’t ready to marry me off yet or something, and we moved on.
The next year we’re back again, and come up near to the same stall.
“Ah! You’re back again! Have you married your daughter off yet? I can up my offer to nine goats and three chickens for your daughter to marry my son.”
Somehow she remembered the exact people she’d tried to buy their daughter off of for an entire year? So my parents are refusing her offers again and me and the son are trading embarrassed looks and we go on our way.
And then it happens again. And again. And again. Each and every one of the last six years this lady has tried to buy me in goats to be her son’s wife.
A couple years ago when we were waiting in line to get inside my mom jokingly said that they should accept this year and see what she’d do and I completely refused because it was mortifying enough as it was.
One year we brought my friend with us and we’re waiting outside and my sister was like “Are you gonna sell Kee this year?” and my dad was like “Maybe if there’s enough goats” and my friend was confused as heck and I was like “This lady tries to buy me to marry her son every year. I told you that” and she’s like “Yeah but I didn’t think this was a thing that actually happened” and she was still skeptical and by the time my parents had finished refusing the lady’s offer, she’s killing herself laughing and then spent the next few months telling me I couldn’t look at guys because I already had a fiancée.
Anyway, it happened again this Christmas and the son has somehow gotten almost ridiculously attractive since last year. The speech this year had something to do with how I was far too old to not have a husband yet, and the son and I just rolled our eyes at each other as his mom tried to barter with my parents for me.
This year’s offer was twenty six goats and nine chickens. My sister looked up how much goats are worth, and was mad our parents didn’t sell me so she could have sold the goats and gotten $2000-$8000 for them. My dad says they’re waiting out on an offer of a camel. My brother thinks they should have it more than once a year so he can get more apple cider.
Now I’m back at uni, and in my first psych class of the semester the guy sitting beside me looked really familiar.
As in his-mom-tries-to-buy-me-with-goats-every-Christmas familiar.
That kind of familiar.
We introduced ourselves before class started and I sat there for a couple minutes readying to make a total fool of myself in case I was wrong before turning to him again.
“This is going to sound really weird if you aren’t who I think you are, but by any chance does your mom try to buy you a wife with goats every Christmas?”
His friend gives me a weird look as he walks past me to sit on the other side of him, but he’s definitely putting the pieces together.
“That’s you? Bethlehem in [city name], right? God, my mom is so mortifying.”
And we both kinda laugh and meanwhile his friend is giving us both weird looks now because apparently he didn’t know that his friend’s mom was trying to buy him a wife using livestock.
So he turns to his friend and is like
“Oh, I forgot to introduce you. Danny, this is my fiancée, Kee.”
And I kinda rolled my eyes and was like
“I’m not actually your fiancée. Your mom hasn’t offered my parents enough goats yet. But apparently my dad will sell me for a camel.”
And he laughed and shook his head like
“I am not telling my mom that. I don’t want to see what she has planned for if your parents ever accept.”
So yeah. His friend was really confused by that point and we explained it to him and it turns out he’s pretty cool and we’re Facebook friends now and hang out in psych classes. Apparently his mom only ever tries to buy me for him and she and my mom had gone to the same church growing up which is why she can always pick us out.
So yeah. That’s the story of how some lady tries to use goats to buy me to be her ridiculously attractive son’s wife every Christmas, and how he’s in my class and we’re friends now.
It was the 23rd of December, 2017, and my sister had convinced her friend to come with us this year.
“And that’s where Kee’s fiancé usually is,” Sam explained as we stood in the line waiting to get inside. Her friend gave her the same sceptical look she’d apparently been giving since Sam had first told her.
“He’s not my fiancé,” I pointed out, trying to rub some feeling back into my hands. The Goat Guy had been texting me updates since that morning. The organizers had discussed it at length, but apparently temperatures of negative eighteen, thirteen inches of snow, and a blizzard warning weren’t quite enough to have Bethlehem cancelled (or for my parents to decide to skip it this year). Hashtag Canada.
The line was long this year, and we’d already been standing out in the cold for the better part of half an hour. My brother was loudly lamenting the fact that we couldn’t get to the hot apple cider until we’d made it inside.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I braved taking off a glove to check it.
“Who do you keep texting?” my mom asked, not-so-subtly trying to peer over my shoulder at my phone.
“Gregory from psychology,” I told her, sending off a text informing him that we were still in line. It wasn’t technically a lie, since, you know, that was his actual name and he was in my psychology classes. It wasn’t my fault that my family only knew him as the Goat Guy.
“Ooo,” Sam teased, elbowing me in the ribs, her bony elbows hurting less than usual through all our layers. “I’m going to tell your fiancé he has competition, and then maybe they’ll offer us something useful. Like a car or a trip to Hawaii or something.”
I snorted again. “One, he’s still not my fiancé. Two, he doesn’t have competition, because I’m not interested in him or in Gregory. And, three, this isn’t a game show. If anything, his mom will just offer maybe a horse or something.”
“Can I have the horse?”
I rolled my eyes, glancing at my phone as another text came in. Hurry up. “Sure, Cole.”
My brother pumped his fist in the air. “Nice.”
It took another ten minutes or so to make it to the front of the line, and my family had placed their bets on the amount of farm animals that would be offered this year. My dad reminded me that he was selling me if they offered a camel, and I rolled my eyes, trying to act as reluctant to get to that part of the night as I usually was. Apparently I didn’t do as good a job as I thought I did, since Mom questioned me.
I shrugged, feeling my phone go off again. “I guess I’ve just decided to go with it.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “She thinks he’s hot,” she told her friend. Which, well, it wasn’t exactly untrue. Objectively the Goat Guy was ridiculously attractive, but that doesn’t mean I want to (or have time to) date him.
We’d reached the entrance by that point, and were given our little pouches of pennies to buy small trinkets and ducked into the (compared to outside, at least) warmth of Bethlehem.
Roman soldiers milled amongst the people, asking for taxes and wanting to see our papers. We didn’t have papers, obviously, but the soldier who checked us took an extra penny as a bribe.
“Wait,” Sam’s friend said, stopping in her tracks. “There’s a petting zoo?”
There was, in fact, a petting zoo. The petting zoo and the apple cider were there to keep us pacified as we waited for the soldiers to allow us entrance into Bethlehem, and Cole and our parents went off to get us something to drink while I followed Sam and her friend to see the animals.
“What is this?” Sam asked, frowning. “Where are all the animals?”
There were significantly less animals than usual. Two whole pens were empty, and I could see a few soldiers and townspeople whispering to each other in a panic.
“Maybe they were too cold,” I suggested, reaching out to pat a pig’s head. It snorted and turned away.
My parents and brother returned with our drinks, and I sighed into the bliss that is Bethlehem hot apple cider, and, by the time we made it to the gates to listen as the soldiers reminded us of laws that I don’t remember, I actually had a bit of feeling back in my fingers and face.
I pulled off a glove, typing up a quick text. We’re in.
The stalls were as neat as they always were. I bought a wooden hammer to add to my collection for a couple pennies. My mom dug out her wallet to buy a carved wooden bowl. Sam and her friend took selfies with a girl from their soccer team who was working in a bakery and she snuck them a free scone. Cole found another apple cider vendor and took three cups for himself.
“Look,” Sam said, grinning wickedly as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “There it is.”
And there it was. The Goat Guy’s mom was standing outside her shop, heckling with a couple over the price of a rug.
“That is a poncho,” I agreed, glancing at one hanging on the side of the shop and deciding I was going to buy it after this whole thing was over.
Sam rolled her eyes. “You know that’s not what I mean,” she pointed out, craning her neck. “I don’t see your fiancé, though.”
“That’s because I don’t have one,” I pointed out, stopping to look at the smithery so I didn’t look too eager to get there.
No one bought that I actually wanted to see some guy pound metal with a hammer (there wasn’t an actual fire or anything, so he was really just sitting there hitting it), so they dragged me across the hall, grins on their faces.
The Goat Guy’s mom, who we will henceforth refer to as the Goat Mom for sake of ease, perked up as she saw us heading towards them, finishing up her bartering and holding her arms out in greeting.
“Ah,” she called, grinning at us. “Back again, I see. Surely you must have found a suitable husband for your daughter by now.”
“Nope,” my mom said, giving me a pointed look. “She’s still single.”
(And, yeah, I was, and still am, but she doesn’t have to be so judgy about it)
The Goat Mom gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “My dear, you’re far too old to be without a husband,” she cried, causing people to stop to watch. I could feel my face heating up, and glanced around wondering where the Goat Guy was at. We had agreed months ago that this was always far more embarrassing for me than it was for him, so why was he taking so long?
“You won’t be young forever,” the Goat Mom was continuing, grabbing my hands and forcing my to look at her. “You’re running out of time.” She glanced past me to my parents, a smug look on her face that said she got just as much enjoyment out of this as my family did. “My son is still in need of a wife. I’ll tell you what, I will give you thirty goats and ten chickens for your daughter. She—”
“Aww, Mom. You started negotiations without me? How are they supposed to know I’d be the perfect husband for Kee if they can’t see how hot I am?”
The Goat Mom froze for a moment, her grip on my hands loosening enough for me to pull away. I followed the shocked gazes of my family and his mom to the Goat Guy.
He was leaning casually against the shop, somehow managing to look good in clothes that were 2000 years out of fashion, a smirk on his face and a half dozen goats and a llama surrounding him.
“That’s Kee’s fiancé,” Sam whispered to her friend, as if there was any doubt about his identity.
His mom blinked out of her shock, narrowing her eyes at him. “Are you drunk?”
The Goat Guy looked offended, raising a hand to his chest. “What? No!”
Cole started cackling. I don’t think he had any more idea what was going on than the rest of them, but fifteen year old boys are weird.
His mom glanced back at us for a moment, and I had to look away to keep the grin off my face, and noticed quite the crowd had gathered.
She took a deep breath as she turned back to her son, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Then why do you have goats?”
I couldn’t keep myself from snorting then, but, thankfully, everyone seemed too distracted to notice.
The Goat Guy rolled his eyes, relaxing back against the shop once more. “I mean, you’ve been failing at bartering me a wife for eight years, Mom,” he pointed out. “I think they just don’t believe we really have as many goats as you say we have. So I brought goats!” He waved the ropes in his hands, and sent me a wink. “And a llama! Girls like llamas.”
“I think that’s actually an alpaca,” my brother helpfully pointed out, and the Goat Guy grinned.
“You’re probably right, my man,” he agreed and turned back to me. “I’m adding this alpaca onto the list of whatever my mom’s already offered. We can ride off on it into the sunset. What do you say?”
“I say it probably wouldn’t hold us.” I was grinning now, too, no longer able to hold it in.
The Goat Guy just shrugged and stayed silent, letting our families stew for a moment.
“Are you sure you aren’t drunk?” his mom finally asked, glancing between us in confusion. “Maybe you’ve been spending a little too much time at the, uh, tavern.” She glanced at the goats and the llama (alpaca?), realization dawning on her face. “Gregory, you had better not be the reason everyone is panicking about the animals going missing from the petting—trading post.”
“Not drunk,” he insisted, ignoring the part about him stealing the animals from the petting zoo as he thrust the leads of the animals into her hands before she had a chance to protest. “I’m just excited to see my future wife.” He crossed the distance between us, my family stepping back, still mostly in shock, and wrapped me up in his arms. “How’s it going, Kee?”
I laughed, hugging him back quickly before pulling away. “Hey, Gregory,” I echoed loudly, my grin growing at the gasp that came from someone in my family. “How’d you find the psych final?”
He groaned, burying his face in my neck. “Ugh, don’t even get me started,” he whined, an arm wrapping back around my shoulders. “I didn’t fail, but that’s about all I can say.”
I hummed in sympathy, watching our families try to piece together what was going on and the crowd that was wondering if this was supposed to be happening. His mom’s mouth was opening to say something as I caught sight of a couple of soldiers pushing through the crowd, and nudged him.
“You!” one yelled, and the Goat Guy’s head snapped of my shoulder, staring at the soldier in shock. “He stole the king’s animals!” One of the others came forward, pulling him away from me.
“You, uh, have the right to remain silent,” he started, fixing his grip on the Goat Guy’s arm. The soldier who grabbed his other arm rolled his eyes.
“He doesn’t have any rights.”
“Oh, right.” The second soldier nodded and turned back to the Goat Guy. “You don’t have the right to remain silent,” he amended.
“Take him to the king,” the first soldier ordered, taking the leads from the Goat Mom. “He should be tried at once.”
The Goat Guy regained his wits and started to struggle against their hold.
“Wait for me, Kee!” he cried as they dragged him back through the parted crowd. “I’ll come back for you!”
By the time he’d disappeared and the crowd had filled in their path, I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. It’d gone better than either of us could’ve hoped.
I calmed down after a moment, and the Goat Mom was still staring in confusion in the direction her son had disappeared in. I stepped past her to the shop, pulling the poncho I’d noticed earlier off the wall.
“I’d like to buy this, please,” I said, and her eyes snapped back to me. I grinned and handed her the money, and she pocketed it without bartering, and I walked away, the crowd parting for me as I wandered towards the next stall.
My family joined me a few moments later, as I was browsing some blown glass ornaments and ignoring the fact that the shopkeepers were whispering about me.
“What was that?” my mom demanded.
I shrugged. “That was her bartering for me to marry the Goat Guy like every year.”
“Yeah, that was not like every year.” Sam snorted and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Since when do you know the Goat Guy?”
“Since January?” I tried to look confused, but I’m pretty sure I was still grinning. “You knew that.”
“No?”
“Yeah?” I countered. “Gregory from psychology?”
The stared at me for a long moment before any of them spoke. Sam’s friend was the only one who seemed more entertained than confused.
“That was Gregory from psychology?” my mom asked, and I shrugged, grinning wider. “You planned this, didn’t you? That’s why you kept texting him outside?”
I shrugged. “I mean, we didn’t plan him getting arrested,” I admitted. “But, yeah, we planned the rest.”
“How’d he steal the goats and the alpaca?” Cole wondered.
“He knows a guy.”
“Like that’s what’s important here.” Sam rolled her eyes.
“Why?” my dad asked, and I shrugged again.
“Seven years’ worth of revenge.”
“That’s not what’s important either,” Sam interjected, huffing loudly. “Kee’s totally dating the Goat Guy. I called it.”
“We’re not dating.” I rolled my eyes, pushing past them to continue through Bethlehem. There should’ve been another apple cider vendor coming up soon, and I’d lost all the heat from the last one.
My family did not drop it through the rest of Bethlehem, and neither did any of the vendors who, apparently, knew exactly who I was (my toque was kind of distinctive, so I guess I’ll give them that) and let me know how sorry they were to hear that my man had been locked up just for trying to provide for his family.
We also saw the Goat Guy again, who had been locked up with the prisoners in a large cage, guarded by a handful of soldiers.
He grinned as he saw us approaching, calling out for me and sticking his arms through the bars.
“Can I borrow your notes later?” he asked. “I’m in here for nineteen years, so I’ll be missing a bit of class.”
Sam and her friend posed for selfies with him, and then she made me pose for one with him that will definitely be used for blackmail at a later date.
And that was Bethlehem. No one shut up on the entire drive home, or for the rest of Christmas break, for that matter, about the fact that I’d been keeping my knowing the Goat Guy a secret for almost a year—which I hadn’t, as I pointed out multiple times. They all knew about Gregory from psychology, and he was literally in my phone as The Goat Guy. It wasn’t my fault they hadn’t put the pieces together.
My family is convinced the Goat Guy and I are meant to be and still not entirely convinced that we aren’t currently dating, and I’m kind of dreading what that might mean for Bethlehem 2k18. Honestly, I’d rather not have to deal with the fallout of my parents actually giving in and getting me a bartered husband, no matter how hot he might be. But I feel like they’re going to accept one year, especially after what we did this year.
The Goat Guy says his mom isn’t any better, and is already planning for next year but won’t let him know anything. Maybe I can convince my parents that I never have to go back ever again.
Two weeks later, I caught the Goat Guy’s eye from across the psychology lecture hall, waving him over.
“Hey,” I said, grinning at him as he slipped into the seat beside me. I turned to my friends. “Guys, this is Gregory the Goat Guy.”
“Her fiancé,” he added, and I snorted at my friends’ incredulous looks and punched him gently in the shoulder.
“Not my fiancé,” I corrected, and turned back to him. “The llama was impressive, but you know my dad’s expecting a camel.”
“Darn,” he said, laughing. “I could have sworn you said llama. I guess I’ll have to find a camel by next year if we ever want to get engaged.” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “But you know, I did get arrested before your parents had a chance to decline the offer this time. Maybe they were going to say yes to the llama.”
“Wait,” my friend said, leaning around me to give the Goat Guy a once over. “That story was real? The Goat Guy actually exists?”
This was beautiful to read.
I need to know what happens this year.
so @hellahartwin sent me the following prompt “For my prompt I challenge you to take one of these angsty sentence starters and somehow make it fluffy instead.”
I chose “Is there someone else?”
————–
“Are you sure we should be doin’ this?” Ryan asked quietly as he tap his foot against the floor repeatedly, looking nervous. “I mean… are we really sure… maybe we should just ask that old bastard if there’s someone else?”
“Mate, askin’ ain’t gonna get us anywhere. We ‘afta do this for Eggsy,” Jamal insisted. “This git is doin’ somethin’ shady, and if he ain’t lovin’ it up at home, then he’s probably gettin’ it elsewhere and it’s our job to make sure Eggsy ain’t dating a piece of shit.”
Ryan sighed but nodded, finally getting out of the car. “If we’re wrong Eggsy’s gonna fuckin’ kill us.”
“He’s in fuckin’ Scotland, mate, he ain’t ever gonna find out, calm down,” Jamal said with a wink, finally opening the door of his car. “We gon’ be quick. Harry won’t even know we’re here.”
Ryan didn’t seem convinced, but at the mention of the man’s name, he seemed to toughen up. When Jamal and Ryan had first heard that Eggsy was dating again, they had been a little suspicious, because their friend had just broken up with his princess, and they knew Eggsy; he didn’t get over people easily.
They had grown even more suspicious when they had found out that Eggsy was dating the man that had changed his life for the better – and whom everyone had assumed to be dead.
They hadn’t asked if the man was forcing him into anything as a way of showing his gratitude, mostly because they knew Eggsy would have already shown the man a lesson had that been the case, but they couldn’t deny the thought had crossed their mind so when they had met Harry Hart, they had not been exactly thrilled.
They hadn’t showed it, however, knowing how important the man seemed to be to Eggsy. They had played nice, and the posh git had been as charming as they came; all proper smoothness, gentle smiles, and perfectly placed touches to keep Eggsy grinning like a loon for the entirety of the evening.
So, in short, they had hated his guts because he had seemed a little too perfect, a little too trained, and they weren’t sure if the man was really in it for the right reasons. The fact that he had abruptly left that first meeting without explanation had also not helped matters much.
What was really bugging the two, however, was the fact that it kept fucking happening.
Every time they saw the man, something came up. It ranged from abruptly leaving Eggsy with them to attend to his “business” every so often, to seemingly random business trips that didn’t always make sense, to hushed phone conversations in his and Eggsy’s home – away from prying ears – to the man keeping an overtly careful eye on his phone to that one time where they had seen a pretty obvious lipstick mark on his shirt (a shirt that had conveniently disappeared from the man’s closet).
They had tried to excuse all of his bizarre behavior for a few months, mostly out of respect to Eggsy, but the shit kept piling up and none of it made sense. What had really broken the last straw, however, had been finding Harry talking to a bald man in his study, the two jumping away from each other when Jamal had cleared his throat. They had had their backs turned away from the door, so Jamal had not been able to see what they were doing, but since then he had completely lost all trust in Harry Hart and he was almost 100% sure that the man was cheating on his best mate.
And this bullshit would not fly with him. Ever.
Hence why they had been following Harry all day. Eggsy had left for scotland less than twenty four hours ago, but Harry had called Jamal to ask him to dog-sit for them as an “unscheduled business meeting” had come up and he had to fly out. Jamal had agreed of course, and had promptly called Ryan and had had the young man meet him so they could follow the git.
Jamal was absolutely certain they were going to catch the man today, considering that, instead of going to the airport, the man had driven out to Sussex and had gone into a mansion not ten minutes ago.
“Business trip my ass,” Jamal said under his breath as they broke into the house, feeling thankful for the rather hefty training he had had when he had been in the marines with Eggsy.
Once inside the house, they did not even need to wonder where Harry was, for the grunting noises coming from the basement were enough to catch the attention of them both. They all but ran downstairs, phones in hand to get enough evidence to show Eggsy.
What they found, however, left them both frozen on the spot.
For starters Eggsy was there, tied to the chair and with a bruised eye, but otherwise looking fine. And, instead of finding the bald man or another random chick or asshat fucking Harry, they found Harry beating the living shit out of a good fifteen different people.
The man moved around the room like it was nothing, blocking hits with his arms or his umbrella while delivering blow after perfect blow. He skidded to his knees once one of his assailants pulled out a weapon, flinging out his hand to grab the man by the knee, using him as his personal pole to bring himself back up to a standing position while forcing the man’s knee to give in.
He brought the man into a headlock, pulling out a weapon and pointing it directly to the man’s skull.
“You blithering idiots have fifteen seconds to give me the code or your precious employer won’t be around to pay you,” Harry said pleasantly to the three men that were still somewhat standing.
Harry hadn’t even broken into a sweat yet.
“Wait, we don’t-”
Before the man could say much else Harry fired one shot, bringing his gun up and firing three more to eliminate the three standing men. “God, what a mess.” Harry sighed as he walked towards Eggsy, both still unaware of the frozen figures of Jamal and Ryan standing by the darkened doorway. “I am aware you wanted them alive, Merlin. I am also aware you already had the code and that that idiot wasn’t actually their boss. He was useless to us.” Harry reached pulled out and pulled out a knife as he talked seemingly to the air, releasing the young man from the rope’s tight hold.
“You know, I could have gotten out of this one by myself,” Eggsy said amused.
“Yes, I know. I didn’t want to stay home and stress about your return. JB gets most unhappy when Merlin starts screaming at me for being inpatient,” Harry said easily, almost carelessly, as if he hadn’t just murdered a room full of people to get his lover back safely.
Eggsy grinned at the man, standing up to collect a much needed kiss. Harry indulged him, pulling him close as he all but devoured the younger man’s mouth, bringing his hands down to grip at Eggsy’s pert behind.
Eggsy moaned softly, moving back ever so slightly to whisper “Merlin, mate, fuck off. Just turn off the camera. I wanna suck Harry off.”
Harry chuckled. “Careful, Eggsy. If we push him too far, he’ll poison us tonight. Remember he and Lancelot are coming over for dinner.”
Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Merlin would never murder you, Arthur, because that would mean he has to deal with paperwork all by himself.”
“What the fuck,” Jamal heard himself whisper, too surprised to even notice he had said that out loud.
Harry and Eggsy both turned then, Eggsy looking surprised and Harry looking calm, a gun already in his hand. His eyes landed on Jamal and he raised a single brow, his weapon not moving an inch.
“Jamal? Ryan? What the fuck are you two doin’ here?” Eggsy asked, looking scandalized.
“Oh my god you just murdered all these people,” Ryan said as he took in the state of the room and then looked back at Harry, who still hadn’t put his gun down.
“Yes, I did,” Harry said as he took a step forward, half hiding Eggsy with his own body. “But I can assure you, Ryan, they were not particularly nice people.”
“Who the fuck are you? Why.. How… I thought you said he was a fucking tailor, Eggsy!” Jamal said his eyes trained on the gun.
Eggsy gaped. “Mate, why the fuck are you two here?!”
“We was followin’ him!” Ryan explained quickly as he took a step back when Harry took another step forward.
“Why the fuck where you followin’ Harry?” Eggsy asked, his surprise now tinged with anger.
“Mate we thought he was cheatin’ on ya! I mean the weird business trips, the hush hush phone calls, the lipstick on his shirt-”
Eggsy frowned “lipstick-”
“Two weeks ago, we went for dinner and he met us at the restaurant late and he had lipstick on his collar,” Ryan explained quietly, not meeting Harry’s gaze – or gun – to avoid squeaking.
Eggsy chuckled, a hint of realization in his eyes. “Yeah, Harry had a mission that day. The lady got a bit over excited, but we got the information we needed.”
Harry shuddered elegantly. “Nasty piece of work, she was,” he said, mostly to Eggsy.
“And what about the bald man?”
“Merlin? What about him?” Eggsy said, suddenly moving to the side to pick up a gasoline jug. He walked back to the bodies and sprayed them all with the liquid, not looking back at his friends’ horrified expressions.
Harry reached the two then, grabbing them by the arm as he walked them out of the basement and up the stairs, Eggsy following a few seconds after.
Once outside, Eggsy smiled at them, clicking something on his watch that made the whole house blow up in flames. Both Jamal and Ryan jumped backwards, a scream stuck in their throats.
Harry smiled softly, finally putting his weapon away. “Well, I must say I am impressed you managed to follow me. I was obviously compromised, as I had a pressing matter in my head, but not many manage to do that. Congratulations.”
Jamal wasn’t sure whether the man was taking the piss or not. “You still haven’t told us who the fuck you are,” he pointed out, putting on a bravado he didn’t actually feel.
Harry was clicking something on his watch. “I am Harry Hart – head of an international spy organization, and Eggsy is my best agent. As for the bald man… that’s Merlin, my right hand man,” Harry said pleasantly, before raising his hand, the watch pointed directly at Jamal. “Now, I do apologize, but I can’t let you go knowing this much about our jobs. I do commend you both for your loyalty towards Eggsy,” Harry said with a final smile before something hit Jamal’s throat, and the world went black.
Eggsy watched as his two best friends fell to the ground and he sighed. “Honestly, the second time in less than six months, how the fuck do they pick up on it so fast?”
“Well, I’ve been taking more missions than usual,” Harry said as he waited for the Kingsman cab to pick them up. “Also, they’re keenly observant. Perhaps… if we, heaven forbid, get another opening, we can nominate them.”
Eggsy grinned, giving his fiance a chaste peck on the lips. “I think they’d like that.”
Harry hummed. “Honestly, I would do it right now, if only to avoid having them think I would ever set my eyes on someone else.”
Eggsy chuckled. “It’s alright, babe. They’re just overprotective gits who don’t know jack shit. ‘Sides, I know exactly who you go to bed with every night, and that’s all that matters,” Eggsy said with another suggestive kiss, before finally pulling away to help Dagonet get his friends into the black car to take them back to their home.
If Pixar were to make a ‘dark’ film, what should it be about?
A teenage boy and his girlfriend. They are happy and very in love, but tragedy strikes; the boy gets drunk at a party, drives home with her, gets in an accident, and she is killed. He feels horrible, naturally.
But the girl isn’t gone; she returns to the world as a ghost, not willing to pass on and be without her love. Unfortunately, he can neither see or hear her. She can whisper things in his ear and be perceived subconsciously, move small objects when he isn’t looking, but never make her presence really known.
For a while she is content to simply follow him around and comfort him as best she can. It even seems she may be having a positive effect; she is able to subtly influence him to quit drinking, clean up his act, and turn his life around. All seems well in a bittersweet way.
Things start to change as time passes. The boy gets older, the ghost does not. He starts to move past her death, no longer gazing longingly at the pictures of them together, not visiting her grave as much. While the ghost wants to see him happy, she is miserable that she is being forgotten, as she is unchanging and still feels love for him.
A few years pass, and the now young adult man starts dating other women. The ghost is upset and jealous. She starts to sabotage his dates, causing little accidents, using her ability to be subconsciously heard to make him say awkward things, basically being a bitch and ruining the young man’s relationships.
Unable to find happiness, the young man begins to backslide. He starts drinking again, he gets in fights, he loses his job. His life is turning to shit. Ghost girl feels terrible…until one night the man takes too many sleeping pills and almost dies. A horrible plan occurs to her; if he commits suicide then he’ll be dead too and they can finally be together.
She starts to egg him on to more and more self-destructive acts, whispering poisonous thoughts in his ear, trying to make him hate himself. He shuts out family and friends. He buys a gun and doesn’t really know why. The girl hates to do this, but it’s the only way…
Throughout the film, we’ve seen other people haunted by ghosts. At first this seems harmless; there’s a man whose father still follows him and gives advice. A mother who lost her daughter, but the girl still walks around holding her hand. The spirit of a young boy’s dog still romps behind him. These ghosts can see each other, and are the typical Pixar cast of quirky side characters.
At last the young man seems to hit rock bottom and is ready to end it all. Not wanting to watch her love die, the ghost departs to leave him to it. She heads to the park, and sees some of the other people with ghosts. But now she notices things she hasn’t before. The ghostly father’s advice, always critical, seems downright abusive, constantly berating his son for his failure and inadequacy, and the son looks miserable. The little girl’s mother can’t look at a child playing without tearing up. The ghost dog is gone, however, and the now older boy has a new pet and is happy. The girl realizes that what she is doing is wrong.
She rushes back to the man, who is moments away from shooting himself. She begs him not to go through with it, pleads and cries, but is unheard. Eventually she is just barely able to direct his attention to the neglected photos of them together as happy teenagers and he puts the gun down, picks up the phone, and calls a suicide hotline.
Man enters therapy, joins a group to quit drinking again, takes medication. It’s long and hard but he makes it. The girl is happy, but she seems to be fading slowly as the months pass. She thinks she might be finally letting go and crossing over, her reward for having saved him. Eventually she departs with a smile.
Twist ending: there was no ghost. That was his guilt and depression personified. It was always his own subconscious, the part of him that hated and blamed himself for the girl’s death. Sure, the guilt drove him to quit drinking once, but the fact that he couldn’t move on drove him into ever deeper despair. All the people with “ghosts” are the same way, haunted by their pasts. Last shot is him walking down the street, content, but as we zoom out we see just how many of the people around him have ghosts, and how widespread the problem is.
TLDR: Bittersweet ghost story is a metaphor for depression.
What is the strangest thing you’ve walked in on someone doing?
Worked as a waiter in college. It was the late 80s. The third floor of our place was tiny, held four tables. Normally, for lunch we weren’t busy enough to put people up there. Had a couple come in and request a table on the third floor. When I brought the drinks, he told me to take my time coming back because his date had to run to the store for smokes. I come back about ten minutes later and she is gone. This guy had a cell phone and it was the first one I had ever seen. I asked him about it and we talked for a few minutes about how it worked. He showed it to me and let me call my roommates so I could see how it sounded. I thanked him for showing it to me and went back downstairs. When I walked downstairs and my eyes got level with the floor, I glanced over at his table and I could see her shoes and knees underneath the tablecloth. He was in mid blowjob while calmly and patiently explaining to me how cell phones work.
A little Hartwin thing for New Year’s Eve.
Working what amounts to a desk job as the new Arthur is every bit as horrid as Harry always imagined it would be in many ways. Yes, it’s rewarding as well, but the absolute worst part about it is not going on missions. Specifically, missions with Eggsy, which means they don’t get to spend as much time with each other as Harry would like. Considering the freshness of their relationship, Harry doesn’t think he can be faulted for finding it all irritating.
This Christmas, their first together, should’ve been filled with the smells and cheer of Christmas, awkward conversations with Eggsy’s mother at dinner, and time spent snuggled with Eggsy under a duvet by the fireplace, but instead Eggsy’s in America, and has been since the beginning of December, on a joint mission with the new Whiskey at Statesman, much to Harry’s dismay. Merlin keeps telling him to “stop moping around, blackening everyone’s mood.”
See the thing is, Harry never expected he’d get to experience holidays with a loved one, and it turns out that he’s a big, soft romantic at heart — “Shocking no one that’s known you for five minutes,” Merlin scoffed when he alluded to it a few weeks past. Even Roxy had laughed at him over that, and she tries to at least feign deference to Harry as Arthur — and he already loves to celebrate all the special occasions and holidays with Eggsy.
Now all Harry wants, since he didn’t get to spend Christmas with Eggsy, is to see him, hug him, kiss him, smell him — ”Fuckin’ pervy old man,” Merlin sniped at that one — for New Year’s Eve, but he doesn’t get to do any of that either.
So here he is, alone at the Kingsman New Year’s Eve get-together, full of all the Kingsman employees and their loved ones. They might have eased up the rules on romantic entanglements for Kingsman agents and employees, but it’s still super top secret. Everyone not an actual employee thinks they’re at a party for the Kingsman liquor brand, and the booze available backs up that theory mightily. Harry has possibly partaken in more than his fair share, all things considered.
So he’s maybe moping a little bit. Merlin’s words, not his. Everyone is just so bloody cheerful, ready to ring in the new year and say goodbye to the hell that was 2017. But Harry doesn’t feel cheerful. The clock ticks ever closer to midnight and Harry has to resist the urge to leave early, go home, and end the night with another drink or three alone in his study. He’d tried calling Eggsy a couple times that night so he could at least hear his voice for a few minutes, but he never did answer. Now with only a few more minutes to go, Harry longs to hear something as simple as, “Hi, Harry.” Just those two words alone would make up for this entire miserable holiday season.
As the party-goers start the ten second countdown, Harry takes another sip of his drink and watches as if floating above it all. At a knock against his elbow, Harry startles. He turns to glance at the person responsible and freezes in place.
Eggsy smiles from beside him, dressed in a tux Harry had made for him specifically for special occasions. His hair is perfectly styled, he smells amazing with the cologne Harry had picked out for him, and he looks as stunning as Harry’s ever seen him. It can’t have been more than a few seconds as Harry’s mind races through all of these thoughts as the tide of astonished happiness rises inside of him, but he knows he has the biggest smile on his face already.
“Hi, Harry,” Eggsy says, his own full-dimpled smile on display. There’s a twinkle in his eyes from the lights of the party all around them, people ringing in the new year with cheers and kisses all around. It may as well be an empty room for all of the attention Harry and Eggsy pay it.
“Eggsy,” Harry says. He reaches up with one hand and smooths a palm against Eggsy’s cheek, thumb brushing along the high of his cheekbone.
“Happy New Year,” Eggsy says and leans up to give Harry a kiss. It’s a gentle brush of their lips together, sweet as anything. They stand there completely lost to time until Eggsy pulls back a few moments later. Harry immediately leans in and kisses him again, still just gentle barely there brushes of their lips together.
After what feels like ages, yet not long enough, they pull apart once more. Eggsy grins up at Harry and says, “Merlin told me you were being insufferable, so we worked out a way to get me home just for tonight.”
Harry raises one eyebrow at the cheek and peers over to where he last saw Merlin before all of his awareness singled in on the only person he wants to see. Merlin was still in the same general area and at the glance from Harry, he salutes his drink with a wry smile. “Meddling bastard,” Harry says.
“Yeah,” Eggsy laughs. “Lucky for you.”
“Yes,” Harry agrees, and turns back to Eggsy and gives him a small kiss on the cheek, then runs his teeth down Eggsy’s jaw briefly before entangling their fingers together as he steps back. “Now let’s go home if I only get you for the night.”
–
Happy New Year everyone! Apologies for the cheeeeese above. 😉 May 2018 be infinitely better than the train-wreck of 2017. 💥✨🎊💥✨🍾💥✨🎉💥✨
FantasyBoudicca 