“How
much hinting do I have to do?” Eggsy asked as he threw open the doors to Merlin’s
office and waltzed in.
“I beg
your pardon?” Merlin asked without turning around to face Eggsy. He didn’t even
look up from the item he was tinkering with. Eggsy wasn’t sure if it was a
weapon or not, so he kept a wide berth and hung close to the door for a quick
exit.
“For
Christmas. How much hinting do I have to do before Harry catches on?” Eggsy
asked. He’d been leaving small hints for what he wanted since Halloween. He’d
started off rather inconspicuous, just a small print out left here on the
benefits of time off, a magazine opened to articles on stress in the work place,
and a vague mentioned through second and third parties about splendid vacation
retreats. As November plowed through, Eggsy amped up his hinting, all but
stating, ‘All I want for Christmas is you to take a bloody day off and stay in
bed with me’.
“Instead
of hinting lad, why don’t you just tell him?” Merlin asked. He exchanged the
tool he was holding for a screwdriver and started to twist at something Eggsy
couldn’t see.
“I don’t
want—well— “Eggsy huffed.
How did he explain he didn’t want
to push his limits? Their relationship was so new, Eggsy was afraid to ask for
too much. Though he supposed asking to spend the holiday with the person you
love wasn’t a ridiculous request, he also knew their job was exactly normal.
Villains and terrorists didn’t take the month off. They in fact doubled their
efforts, channeling their inner Grinches, and increasing Kingsman’s work load.
Eggsy shrugged. “I don’t want to
force him to spend time with me.”
“He should just want it?” Merlin
said, finally lifting his head to look at Eggsy with two raised eyebrows. “Lad,
while Harry believes he is every bit the gentleman he preaches to be, he is
also thicker than a sack of flour. He loves you, but he also has tunnel vision,
and despite his pension for being tardy, he works harder than a mule. Give him
a break and tell him that you want to spend the holiday with him.”
Eggsy chewed on his bottom lip and
weighed Merlin’s words. Merlin turned back around, a clear dismissal. Eggsy
sighed and shoved off the wall. “I guess you’re right. Thanks Merlin.”
Merlin waved him off over his
shoulder. Eggsy took his leave and found Harry in his office, working on the
computer.
Harry didn’t realize Eggsy was
there until he cleared his throat. “Eggsy, darling, what are you doing here?”
“Can we talk?” Eggsy asked.
Harry blinked up at him with those
wide eyes of his, the same ones he used back in the Black Prince the day they
first met, and pushed back in his chair. “Of course, is something wrong?”
“No,” Eggsy said quickly. Harry
held a hand out for him and Eggsy happily went, allowing Harry to pull him onto
his lap. The feel of Harry wrapped around him instantly set him at ease.
“What’s the matter?” Harry asked,
looping an arm around his waist.
“Well, I wanted to talk to you
about Christmas…” He trailed off, the computer monitor catching his attention.
There was a travel site up. “Harry, why are you looking at a package deal to
Paris?”
“Shite,” Harry cursed and quickly
reached around Eggsy to close out of the screen. “You weren’t supposed to see
that. Forget that.”
Eggsy blinked, the pieces
connecting in his mind. He laughed and grabbed Harry by the face, dropping a
firm kiss on his lips. He stood, Harry letting him go, and headed for the door.
“Wasn’t there something you wanted
to talk about?” Harry called.
Eggsy shook his head with a grin. “No,
it’s not important. I’ll see you at home tonight, okay?”
“Yes, of course,” Harry said with a
small frown.
On
Christmas morning, Eggsy not only got Harry to himself for most of the day
(until the others came over for dinner), but discovered a small box with two
plane tickets under the tree. Two weeks later, Eggsy found himself standing at
the top of the Eiffel tower, accepting a proposal.
Fic Summary: True relationships, love, required a leap of faith. Taking a chance, despite the possible consequences, was essential to a relationship being an honest one. At least, as honest as a Kingsman agent could manage- which was pretty damn honest, when the other people involved were also a part of Kingsman, he thought.
But Merlin had apparently overestimated things, and the pill was a bitter one to swallow.
Harry learning anything that might be useful when he meets his soulmate, because he wants to be sure he’s ready and that he can save him. And then it turns out the only threat is overexcited, cute, puppies and Harry’s done for. Meeting his soulmate is a revelation all in itself, but seeing him on the ground, swarmed by dogs with a happy, bright smile on his face makes Harry fall in love in a split second.
hmmm so i feel like eggsy might be pretty good at the whole not-swearing thing around daisy because he’s been training himself not to swear around her for years and he’s gotten pretty good at it to the point where it’s just automatic that whenever a Little One is around he doesn’t say anything bad
but harry
harry has never needed this kind of restraint and kingsman agents have mouths like sailors so spending time with daisy is a disaster
at first there’s a swear jar
then there’s a swear bucket
then eggsy figures out he’s just gonna end up with all of harry’s money if they keep on that way, so he starts working on other tactics, all “just say something that sounds like swearing, but isn’t”
which works like a charm except harry keeps censoring the wrong words
“stunt of a bitch!” “harry, no”
“brotherfucker” “that’s not better”
“asshat” “you didn’t even try”
and all these failed attempts are catching daisy’s ear, of course, she just picks right up on all the words she’s not supposed to say and you should have seen the look on michelle’s face the first time daisy gleefully yells “fuck you!” after visiting big brother and uncle harry
a harry potter au where potions is taught by gordon ramsay
neville: *messes up his potion*
gordon ramsay: *holds neville between two slices of bread* what are you
neville: an idiot sandwich
no no no!
Imagine that this is Gordon Ramsay a la Masterchef Junior
Neville: *messes up the potion, realizes it, starts crying quietly*
GR: What’s going on?
Neville: *explains how he messed up*
GR: Oh gosh okay…we can fix this, don’t cry, see, it’s fine now? Just be more careful when you’re adding the Newt’s eyes, all right? Drop them in gently. There we go. No more tears.
Neville: *giggles wetly, wiping eyes*
Yes, he only screams when he’s dealing with people that claim to know what they’re doing and clearly dont, when he’s teaching he’s very kind and patient because they’re still learning.
He’d probably do the bread thing to Malfoy.
nononononono. I get that Malfoy is a bit of a twat, but he’s still a kid. It’d be the teachers fucking up that he’d have trouble with.
Ramsay: All you had to do was treat it with a fucking Beozar!
Slughorn: It was a stressfu-
Ramsay: How long have you been teaching potions?!
or
Ramsay: So you’re going to raise this boy SPECIFICALLY so he can die as part of your twisted little scheme?
Dumbledore: It’s for the greater good, professor.
Ramsay: The greater fucking good?! *holds two slices of bread either side of dumbledoor’s face* What are you?
My favorite Gordon Ramsey moment is from the latest season of Master Chef Jr.
Gordon had run in to help a group of struggling kids with a team challenge and one of the older kids, a 12 year old boy, wasn’t passing attention while taking a pan out of the oven and not only spilled all the food but scalded Gordon.
It’s clear Gordon’s leg is in pain. He’s been badly burned without warning. But he doesn’t scream. He doesn’t yell, not even in pain, and he doesn’t go off on the child who is now frozen in fear. He calmly tells the child to set the pan down and to close the oven, safety first. Then tells him to go restart the food he was making, calm instructions.
My husband and I grew up in abusive homes where any mistake meant parents getting angry (my husband is terrified of spills or broken glasses because that meant beatings growing up, for me, anything going wrong, that could upset my mother, even if it wasn’t my fault meant screaming and emotional abuse).
I didn’t know someone could be so calm. That someone could not get angry, and put aside what they’re feeling (in this case a lot of physical pain) and not take it out on those around them, even when someone around them had messed up, because that person is a child.
Gordon Ramsey is a survivor of child abuse himself and as an adult, the most non-abusive person ever when it comes to kids.
im going to cry can gordon ramsey be my parent this sound so beautiful
Please take a moment to picture Gordon Ramsay taking over Potions when Snape becomes the DADA professor (instead of Slughorn) and not only being horrified when he realizes how terrified the students are that he’ll verbally abuse them when they mess up in Potions class but when he overhears how Snape treats students. Like can you IMAGINE the level of RAGE and CONTEMPT that Ramsay would harbor towards Snape? The asshat wouldn’t have made it to the end of HBP. Ramsay would’ve hexed his ass to kingdom come.
Rebloging ALL of this because Chef Ramsay is THE MAN!
-HC
Chef Ramsay would have become the kids’ favourite teacher and you can’t take that away from me.
Imagine him dealing with Umbridge
Every time I reblog this post, I swear to God, it only gets better.
The best cover for Bruce Wayne would be dumb carefree playboy who is also Instagram Optimistic, everyday he’s posting a selfie of his smiling at his breakfast with a caption like “it’s a waffle day! #goodvibesingotham #grateful” or a picture of a sunrise with a caption that’s just “wow #blessed”
Bruce Wayne ending up as Gotham’s favoured son because he may be an idiot, but he’s a cheerful idiot, and he donates tons to charity and genuinely loves Gotham and actually, truthfully does put a lot back into the city. And his instagram is a bright ray of sunshine, and honestly there are a lot of people in the city who get surprisingly defensive of their Dumb Carefree Playboy because, okay, sure, every month or so Bruce Wayne falls off a yacht or sleeps with a reporter or whatever. The man clearly never met a healthy coping skill even once in his life.
But as far as news regarding Gotham’s prominent citizens go, Bruce’s ‘scandals’ are so normal that it’s downright refreshing. When a headline has ‘Bruce Wayne’ in the title, you know you’re either going to read some Celebrity Gossip level non-drama, or else something to do with a charity. Maybe he’s been kidnapped again, but that’s only happened a few times. Bruce Wayne news is like the Gotham equivalent to special reports about dogs who rescue their owners from drowning, or raccoons who’ve figured out how to get past the new self-locking garbage can lids.
And there’s something weirdly reassuring about following his twitter. Like, if Bruce Wayne is tweeting about a really neat old tree he just saw, things must at least be sort of alright.
(Meanwhile, Bruce’s social media persona is 100% him flanderizing Clark.)
Harry looked up, smiling brightly as the door to his
room burst open. He loved visitors. Being stuck in here on his own all the time
was incredibly boring, even if that lovely Ginger Ale kept bringing him books
to read. He liked it best when she stopped to chat. She didn’t know much about
butterflies, but she had a lovely voice and any human contact was to be treasured.
The one in front, an unfamiliar young man, barrelled in
towards Harry. He moved in for a hug, but Harry stepped back in alarm. He put
his hand between them to disguise the rudeness of the move, offering it out for
a polite (and more appropriate for strangers) handshake. “How do you do? Have
we met before?”
The young man’s face fell. “Harry…it’s alright, you
don’t have to pretend. They know we know you.” He didn’t shake Harry’s hand, so
Harry lowered it.
“I think there must be some mistake,” he said slowly.
Almost at the same moment he looked away from the boy
and was treated to an image he actually remembered, a beautifully familiar
accent filled the room as his partner said, “Harry. It’s been a long time and
my brogues need to be resoled.”
Harry’s smile was replaced with a frown, “Darling,
what on earth are you talking about?”
Silence descended over the room like a bag over the
head of a suffocating victim, and Harry shifted uncomfortably and tried not to
let it choke him.
“Harry…do you know who I am?”
Harry blinked, “Of course I know who you are. What
sort of person would forget their own husband? Really, Hamish.”
Ginger Ale coughed, “You’re Hamish?”
Hamish looked at her. “Yes…?”
“Hamish, his husband who he literally never shuts up
about?” the final man, who Harry believed was called Tequila (strange name)
said. “He talks about you all the time. When it’s not butterflies it’s always ‘Hamish
once took me to this lovely restaurant for our anniversary’ or ‘Do you think
Hamish will find me before Christmas? I had a very important present I wanted
to give him.’ Dude’s totally smitten with you. It’s a little nauseating, in a
sweet kind of way.”
Hamish returned his attention to Harry. He took a step
closer and Harry smiled. Hesitantly, Hamish reached out for him, and Harry
threw himself into his husband’s arms. Hamish squeezed him tightly, and his
voice was thick when he whispered, “I thought I lost you.”
“You found me again, darling,” Harry murmured back. “I
knew you would.”
When Hamish pulled away, his hands still clinging to
Harry like he was afraid he might disappear, his expression was uncertain
again. “So, you know who I am,” he said again, “but you don’t know who you are?”
“Of course I know who I am.” Harry really doesn’t
understand these questions that everyone keeps asking him. It should be fairly
obvious, and Hamish of all people should know. “I’m a lepidopterist.”
Hamish’s face fell, and Harry was struck by the
strangest feeling that he’d just said something wrong. “Hamish? Is everything
alright?”
Harry knew his husband. He knew every inch of him. And
he knew perfectly well that when Hamish put on a smile and said, “Everything’s
fine, Harry,” he’s lying.
au where harry comes back after a long mission and he’s in some grocery store, waiting on a long line bc there was no food in his house. it’s pretty late and he’s annoyed.
the young man in front of him is holding some baby food and a young baby girl. and that baby is staring right at harry. sometimes when a baby is staring at you, you can’t help but try to make the baby smile. especially since the baby looked like she was crying earlier. so harry starts with a small smile, followed by sticking his tongue out a little. the baby cracks a smile and harry is pleased with himself. he doesn’t know what comes over him but he even attempts to make a funny face. the baby girl is giggling now and the young man holding her, turns around to see what is making her laugh. cue harry getting caught making a stupid face at the most gorgeous young man he’s ever seen.
embarrassed, harry awkwardly clears his throat and with much dignity he has left, bids the young man “ah, good evening.” the young man smiles at him and laughs. he turns to the baby girl and is like, “ey daisy, you makin’ friends with posh strangers now?” he laughs and introduces himself; eggsy. harry introduces himself back and the two begin talking while waiting on that long grocery line.
at the end, harry ends up with a phone number and a little baby girl waving “bye-bye” at him.
FantasyBoudicca 