Hartwin prompt: "Did you do something different with your hair?"
Sorry this is late! I re-watched the sequel tonight and I’ve been put back in the Hartwin feel! I hope you enjoy!
He opens the door and sets down his bags. It’s been a long few weeks, being away from home, away from Eggsy. He’s been away longer of course, missions that take months to complete rather then the much preferred weeks, but it’s because he has Eggsy that it’s felt longer than it was. Eggsy’s expressed the same whenever the blonde has to be away as well, on his own missions that Harry easily hides how worried he gets when Eggsy’s gone. They talk whenever they can however, via text or the rare call. It’s never better then wrapping his arms around the younger man but it keeps him warm enough until he can embrace his lover.
This time had been slightly different however, Eggsy declining most of his offers to call, at first. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t believe any of Eggsy’s excuses why he couldn’t, he was tired, Daisy was over and he didn’t want to wake her, etc. but Harry had a sneaking suspicion there was another reason Eggsy was preferring text for the first half of Harry’s trip. “Eggsy? Are you home darling?” He wouldn’t be all to surprised if Eggsy wasn’t. His arrival home was more or less unexpected since he was meant to be another few days. He’d only gotten off early when Merlin announced the target they’d been after finally caved and turned himself in. Not wanting to live with the pressure or guilt or something of the sort. Harry was just glad to be home.
The moment he closes the door, he hears someone barreling down the stairs and he barely gets to turn around before his arms are full. The smile that breaks past Harry’s lips is involuntary, easily wrapping his arms around the younger man and turns to bury his nose in Eggsy’s…blonde hair?
He stares down at what should have been blonde then gently eases Eggsy back. He’s smiling just as big as Harry had been, either unaware or forgetting he’s done something new. “Did you do something different with your hair?”
Eggsy stares at him like he has the bright, neon blue hair. “Huh?” Harry points to his own head and it finally clicks with Eggsy. “Oh! Oh shit.” he runs his fingers through his hair, averting his eyes. “Um, yeah. ’s blue. Like it?”
“I’m interested to know why you thought to dye your hair blue, let alone at all.”
Eggsy is smiling again, though it’s more sheepish this time. “Ah, well, Rox and I had a bet, yeah? She bet me twenty quid that I couldn’t hear your voice for a week while you were gone. And, well, I’m dumb, so I bet her that and I’d dye my hair any colour she wanted ‘cuz I was sure I’d win. As it turns out, I’m fuckin’ stupid over you and I needed t’ hear you.”
Harry cocks an eyebrow but his eyes betray his amusement. “Is that so?”
“Yep. Rox even volunteered t’ take my missions I’d normally get if I lost and Merlin’s a bastard because he agreed to this. He just wants me to walk around HQ stickin’ out like a sore thumb.”
“And how long are you meant to keep this?”
“A month. But…it looks kinda cool though, right?”
Harry lets out a very long, tired sigh. “No, Eggsy. Why you would you make this bet?”
“I thought I could do it! Didn’t sound too hard, yeah? Not talk t’ y’ for a few weeks, but, turns out, it was really bloody hard not to call you up every time you’d ask.”
Harry, again, only gives him a look. The younger man almost has the face of a pouting child, with his cheeks slightly puffed and red, looking up at him. “So, not only is Roxanne twenty quid richer, you dyed your hair this obnoxious colour because you couldn’t keep yourself from talking to me?”
“Yep.”
The absurdity of it makes Harry laugh. It’s the thought that Eggsy needed to hear him that brings back his smile and glint to his eyes. “Eggsy, my boy, darling, you’re unbelievable.” he reaches out, threading his long fingers through the blue locks. Perhaps it’s not as horrible as Harry had first thought, the look slowly growing on him, but he much prefers Eggsy’s sandy blonde to this. “This dye won’t stain the bedding will it?”
“Um, don’t think so? Hasn’t yet anyway and I’ve been tryin’ to be careful.”
“I appreciate that then.” in one of the few times Harry can catch Eggsy off guard because his senses have been trained just as much as Harry’s have been, he bends, knocking Eggsy over his shoulder and standing tall with the younger man. “Hey! Harry!”
“Tonight, however, we needn’t be careful.”
He hears Eggsy laugh. “Yeah? Missed me that much?”
“Mm, I’ve missed you an adequate amount, yes.”
“Aw, c’mon Har! Y’ missed me!”
To simply say he’s missed Eggsy would be a gross understatement. It’s come time now where he doesn’t think he could have someone else in his life, romantic wise. He never planned it, never planned it at all, not until Eggsy decided to bury his way into his heart. A lot of things were ‘never’ until Eggsy. He was a lucky old man, he was. He really didn’t deserve the warmth and love Eggsy brought into his life. “I did, yes. I always do, my love.”
I wanted to thank you for posting so much about your Sivi adventures; it helped me learn so much about silkens and whether they were the right breed for me. I adopted a 3.5 year old silken 3 months ago and she's improved my life tenfold (even if she can be a gremlin). I can't imagine life without her now, and I don't think I would have been able to make that leap without all the info I found here. So thank you, I really appreciate the transparency, especially when I know it's not always easy.
this is wonderful to hear! i’m so happy for you!!!
It's an unseasonably snowy winter and Eggsy keeps stealing all of Harry's favourite sweaters.
Itstarted on a Monday when Harry went rummaging in his closet. He had troublefinding his good cashmere golden sweater. He was quite annoyed about that. Hehad a lovely tie to go with the sweater.
On thesecond day, it was his green wool sweater that had gone missing next. Harryhuffed, frowning. It wasn’t like him to lose his clothing like this. Somethingwas afoot.
On thethird day, Harry’s suspicions seemed to be on point when he couldn’t find hisblue cotton sweater. How odd that all his good sweaters seemed to be missing.He closed his closet door and walked down the stairs. He could hear Eggsy inthe kitchen, pouring some tea for himself.
It wasundoubtably freezing this past week, a few snowfalls here and there. It was whyHarry was annoyed his best sweaters have vanished. He would like to stay warm,but he would also like to look good while doing so.
“Eggsy,darling,” Harry began as he walked into the kitchen, “Have you seen any of mygood- “
Harrypaused when he saw Eggsy wearing his missing blue sweater. It was obviously bigon him, Eggsy using the sleeves to hold his hot mug of tea. He was also in somesweatpants, his hair lightly damped. He must’ve taken a shower. Eggsy lifts hismug up, lightly blowing on it before taking a sip.
“What’sup, Harry?” He asked.
Harrystared, feeling slightly betrayed but also couldn’t help but think how adorablehis boyfriend looks. “Have you been taking my sweaters?” He asks, crossing hisarms.
Eggsyshrugged, taking another careful sip. “Yeah? Do ya mind? They’re cozy and allof mine are kinda ratty. Been meaning to get some new hoodies but your sweatersare crazy comfy, Harry.”
Harrysighs, and a small smile creeps on his face. “Well, you could’ve asked nexttime, dear. But no, I don’t mind too much. You do look, very cozy in mysweater.”
Eggsysmirks, blushing as he sips his tea again. “Fancy for a cuddle on a couchthen?” Eggsy asks. He didn’t even wait for an answer, as he was already makinghis way to the living room.
Harrychuckles, but he follows after Eggsy. He removes one of the blankets that wereon the couch and uses it to cover him and Eggsy. As they sit on the couchtogether, Eggsy in Harry’s arms, Harry glances out the window. It was snowingagain.
Has there ever been a piece of art you've seen in a museum (or otherwise) that completely stopped you in your tracks?
So when the good dr cox and I lived in Minneapolis we were broke as fuck. Like sometimes choose between medicine and power broke. eating off the dollar menu broke. But you get bored. The Minneapolis Institute of Arts was free, and we could walk to it (it was a mile away from where we lived). And it is a really good museum. We would go around the rooms, separating if a piece caught our eye and then talking about it. We’d spend hours in there.
And there was this painting:
It is Magritte, and so crisp and fanciful, and I could just sit and stare at it for twenty minutes straight. It just made me unbearably happy.
@gardensparrow replied to your post: I was going to write a big spiel about why I am...
I never engaged in the discourse, but seeing so much of it on my dash/fear of ending up involved in discourse is one of the reasons I ended up falling out of the DA fandom…it’s exhausting. I’m so glad that you’re taking care of yourself, and bailing on the drama bit early enough that DA is still fun. :)
It’s so sad that I see this pattern a lot, someone leaving/ reducing DA fandom interaction for fear of getting involved in a discourse train. And hey i’ll admit in my early tumblr life I engaged, but I simply can’t do it anymore for my own sanity.
But DA is still fun to me, even though I’m writing another unrelated story right now, but I still love my DA OTP and writing for them and just geeking out! :)
gardensparrow replied to your post: I still want to write that Persuasion AU...
I support this wholeheartedly. More Merrill/Carver fic is always a good thing, and everyone loves a good Jane Austen AU! :D
Thank you! I wholeheartedly agree! I would dearly love to see a Persuasion AU (or any other Jane Austen AU), if only I actually had time to write it *looks over at number of current Carver/Merrill longfic WIPs and sobs*
I want to request all of the festive prompt list for the Class Act AU, but I've narrowed it down to two or three which you can choose from or combine; 28, 31, and 40
Thank you so much for the prompt! I managed to fit two of them in here, and I hope you like it! Cullen’s POV, 600 words. If I’d been planning better I’d have realized that this comes just before Silent Night, and I’d have posted them in order.
Satinalia Sweaters
Also on AO3.
Cullen was working on grading finals in the office when he was sure he heard Mara rummaging around upstairs in their bedroom. He was still questioning his own judgement giving a final on the second to last day before the end of the term, but he wanted to use up every single day. A final was a good way to keep the kids engaged all the way up to the break. It was usually needed because somehow their teenagers turned into kindergartners three weeks before the actual holiday.
If only Cullen had a dollar for everytime a student asked him if they were going to have a “fun day” in class that day, he’d be a very rich man. So he hadn’t felt bad about giving the final, even if he was pretty sure he was the one actually paying for it.
Normally, he wouldn’t go upstairs to see what Mara was doing, but she sounded frustrated. He finished the test he was on and walked upstairs to find her basically buried in the closet. Argos was on the bed, his tail wagging when he saw Cullen.
“Please tell me you are not searching our room for where I’ve hidden your presents,” Cullen commented, leaning against the doorframe. He highly doubted she was, but if she was, she’d be very disappointed. He used her height against her, and always had hidden her gifts on the very top shelf of the closet under the stairs. Mara wasn’t even tall enough to see if there was something on the shelf much less what was up there. It was a stroke of brilliance on his part, and he’d hidden a very special small box up there as well. He was waiting for the right moment, for some sort of inspiration to strike. It hadn’t yet, but then he didn’t think there was any real rush.
Mara scowled at him. “Just how many Satinalia sweaters do you own?”
There were three very ugly and very awful sweaters laid out on the bed, and all three of them were his. “Um….” He rubbed his neck.
“There are more?” Mara asked incredulously.
“Maker, no. I did sort of forget I owned one, two years in a row?” Cullen explained sheepishly.
Mara held up the blue one with awful looking applique snowmen. “You forgot you owned this? I’m traumatized just looking at it.”
Cullen laughed. “Isn’t that the point of ugly Satinalia sweaters?”
Mara smiled before turning back to the closet. “I know I have a red sloth one somewhere, but I can’t find it.”
“A sloth sweater?” Cullen asked.
“The sloths are holding onto the tree, it’s ugly and adorable, and I need it for tomorrow,” Mara explained. Her hair was getting longer, and it was braided back. Cullen brushed it off her neck and pressed a kiss there.
“Do you remember seeing it when you moved in?” he asked.
She leaned against him. “Maybe?”
“Then it’s got to be here somewhere,” Cullen said wrapping an arm around her waist.
Mara nodded. “Don’t you have finals to grade?”
He sighed. He still had at least two class hour worths to get through. “Yes.”
Mara stepped away from him. “You should get those done.”
“And you should keep looking,” Cullen replied. He didn’t want to go, but he needed to get the finals graded before tomorrow. Argos jumped off the bed, and followed him into the office, curling up on the soft chair in the corner.
He hadn’t even gotten through another test before he heard Mara calling. “Found it!”
Cullen smiled. Last Satinalia had been wonderful, but he was pretty sure this one was going to be even better.
