#Mariah’s Butterfly Bakery

[kuramirocket]

Mariah’s Butterfly Bakery, located in Buckeye, Arizona, recently shared a text exchange in a story post on social media where the customer not only discriminates her for her ethnicity but canceled their order because of it.

“I see by your pictures that you are Mexican and nothing personal, but I can’t support you when there’s other hard-working Americans trying to make it here that I’d rather support,” reads part of the text message sent to the owner. The grace this business owner showed the customer has impressed just about everyone on social media.

“I think the one thing that is most important for something like that that has that anger or says something really hateful toward you for something that’s out of your control to still meet them with the grace and dignity then you would want,” Victoria Hernandez, the owner of Mariah’s Butterfly Bakery, told Arizona’s Family.

People are praising Hernandez for being so composed in her response to the customer, with many voicing that they don’t think they would’ve had the same reaction. Not that anyone would ever owe someone composure in a situation like this, but it’s incredible to see Hernandez receive the recognition for her civility and patience.

You can follow the bakery’s account and/or place orders on their Instagram here.

#🇲🇽 #usa #united states #racism #Mariah’s Butterfly Bakery #Victoria Hernandez #jessica marie garcia #mexican actresses #discrimination against mexicans #arizona #Buckeye #mexican #hispanic #latina #support #mexican bakers

[ao3bronte]

Santa Shuffle🎅🎄

After what has been an admittedly tumultuous December (‘Bronte: Attack of the Anons’ was basically the theme at the beginning of my holiday season), I decided to try something that would lift my spirits. I love games and surprises so rather than bang my head against the wall trying to come up with another story, I decided to create little Christmas drabbles based on the following rules:

Put Spotify on shuffle and start playing Christmas songs.

For each song, write something inspired by the song. 

Do 10 songs and post. Make sure to include the song name/artist.

Please sit back and enjoy!​🎅🎄

~

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas - Michael Bublé

The stars are shining from behind the ever-present layer of wintertime clouds, floating like lanterns in the dark. Tonight, Chat Noir feels as if he’s soaring amongst them, gazing up at the brilliant lights that emanate from the canvas of twilight sky. Brightly decorated Christmas trees sit like beacons in the middle of crowded squares that teem with winter markets and roasted chestnuts and Chat simply can’t keep his feelings back any longer, glowing with a wild abandon he has never known.

As always, he’s right where he belongs.

He lets go of his baton and tosses his body into the air, somersaulting over a bevy of twinkling Christmas lights. He banks right and ventures off further onto the familiar rooftops of Paris, healing the gashes in his soul long scabbed over. There’s nothing like the feeling of the holidays, lost within the colourful heights and cheerful carols, never falling. He smiles, his heart bursting with a feeling he can only describe as true, utter bliss.

Christmas in Paris is coming, and for the first time ever, he actually has a home.

Mistletoe - Justin Bieber

There are people everywhere, packed within the vast confines of the main hall of Le Grand Paris. They’re dancing, feasting, laughing, screaming, kissing, drinking, having the time of their lives.

It’s a Christmas party and the Champagne is flowing. Things are going to get a little sloppy.

He spies her from the other side of the hall and they lock eyes, a smirk full of promise playing on her lips. She’s been canoodling and chatting up her network like a true professional while Adrien admires from afar, content to watch her sashay in that gorgeous red handmade gown he loves so very much. The open back, the plunging neckline, the figure hugging silk he just wants to…

...well, he has to be on his best behaviour. They’re in public after all.

But, like most parties this time of year, there are punches and bottles of sparkling wine a plenty, which means that no one is acting with enough propriety to notice the heat emanating between them. He returns her saucy gesture with a raised eyebrow and a smug grin and it’s one of those take it or leave it smirks, the kind that teases and promises so much more.

She pushes through the crowd, her eyes never leaving his, and he stands his ground, limbs tingling with both excitement and slight intoxication. He can feel her lingering on her lips, a memory of something intangibly right, and shifts his body so that he’s standing right where he needs to be in order to make this little game of his all worthwhile.

She notices, of course. She always does.

“Mistletoe?” she questions him, crossing her arms across her chest. The action only accentuates her décolletage and Adrien’s mouth begins to water, “Really?”

He doesn’t even bother trying to answer. Instead, he takes her by the waist and kisses her senseless.

Santa Claus is Comin’ To Town - Bruce Springsteen

Chat Noir grins widely and drops his enormous bag of toys onto the floor just outside of the elevator. He shares a private look with Ladybug, one full of apology for the deluge of children galloping down the hall in their direction, and opens his arms with a laugh.

“HO HO HO!” he hollers with excitement, completely and utterly attacked by children who are so excited to see him that they can hardly contain themselves. Ladybug scoops the toys out of the way just as her partner is thoroughly taken down by the rabid pack and laughs as they tug on his fake beard and Santa hat.

He manages to extricate himself eventually and toddles around the hospital ward with an enthusiastic flock of enamoured children in tow. Santa Noir delivers a personalized gift to each child stuck in the children’s hospital over the holidays and poses for selfies by the thousands while Ladybug follows behind, laughing as he regularly whips out his best impressions of Santa himself. 

And then he starts to sing.

“You better watch out,” he wags his finger, much to the children’s delight, “You better not pout! You better not cry, I’m telling you why. Santa Claws is coming to town!”

A hundred voices chime in for the chorus, waving jingle bells and laughing as Chat performs the latest Fortnite dance for them. It’s embarrassing and hilarious and honestly? 

Ladybug has never been more in love.

River - Robert Downey Jr.

He’s never told a soul, and so long as he knew, no one had been around when he’d finally lost his composure and cried.

He’d collapsed onto his haunches and wept out loud into his palms, frustrated and upset and drowning in a myriad of emotions he can’t categorize without losing anymore of his precious sanity. Why was he out here again? Why was he wasting his time – again – for someone who couldn't even spend a moment of his Christmas Eve to be with his son?

Oh right. 

Because that someone was his father.

He’d cried harder, heaving into the night air without being able to stop himself. 

Why did Maman have to go away?

Step Into Christmas - Elton John

Marinette giggles as Adrien grabs her hands and swings her around her parent’s living room, dancing the night away. The Christmas bops playing off of Marinette’s Spotify playlist are just the thing to convince her to get off the couch after way too much turkey and join him in a little Santa Samba around the Christmas tree.

“Stoooop,” she laughs, not really meaning it as he wraps one arm around her body and captures her hand in his, “Maman’s taking videos of us.”

“For the wedding!” Sabine coos as Adrien spins her in a gentle underarm pirouette and Adrien can’t help but grin.

“Come on Marinette,” Adrien pulls back and shimmies to the jazzy jam, “You can’t deny the chemistry between us.”

“We’re engaged, you doofus,” Marinette scolds him fondly, squeaking as he pulls her back into his chest, “Of course we have chemistry.”

“Which is why we need to practice dancing,” Adrien slots his feet between hers and leads her into a dizzying spiral of turns, “And what better time to do it than on Christmas Eve with my favourite people?”

“Flaterer,” Marinette shakes her head as Tom cheers from the kitchen.

“Dip her! Dip her!”

“NONONO!”

Adrien can’t deny his future father-in-law, now can he? With a side splitting laugh, Adrien lunges forwards and gracefully lowers the love of his life in his arms, pausing only to wink at the camera.

Santa Tell Me - Ariana Grande

Marinette holds her favourite picture of Adrien to her chest and sighs as the latest Gabriel holiday commercial plays on repeat in the background. Adrien stares in awe up at the snow that cascades from the sky, surrounded by Christmas decorated in black and white baubles and metallic ornaments. It’s for another perfume line, this one heavy on frankincense and ginger, and Marinette just wants to bury her face in the crook of Adrien’s perfectly popped collar and drink him in.

He’s perfect.

She would do anything to go on a date with him right now. They could go to the Christmas market together, hand in hand, or sip on hot chocolate in front of a crackling fire. They could decorate gingerbread cookies in her bakery and then go to the annual Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony together so they could kiss under the fairy lights!

They would be amazing together.

Marinette checks her calendar and sees that Adrien has a packed schedule of modelling and extracurriculars for the foreseeable future and shrugs, still holding onto hope. Maybe, with just a little bit of luck on her side, she could admit her true feelings and fall in love this Christmas…

All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey

Three seconds in the same room with her and he’s practically on the floor, on his knees, head spinning from the sheer emotion of it all. He’d just walked in on her pulling her beautiful, gorgeous black hair out of her ponytails for the mayor’s Christmas Party at Le Grand Paris and thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

Her blue eyes were like the ocean.

Her legs went on for miles.

He pines for her like a puppy. He’d do anything for her.

(He bets she tastes like strawberries.)

“Face it,” Rena Rouge mutters, nudging Ladybug lightly with her elbow. Ladybug glances over in the direction her fellow heroine is pointing and sighs, tugging her bangs in front of her eyes in embarrassment, “He’s got it bad.”

Facing her lovestruck partner, Ladybug takes a weary breath and simply surrenders, “Don’t remind me.”

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch - Thurl Ravenscroft

Ladybug and Chat Noir exchange glances across the battleground, grinning like Cheshire cats in the gloom. She grips her yoyo in her palm, squeezing the unbreakable spotted material with her fingers. Chat fiddles idly with the base of his baton, his confidence boosted tenfold.

“I’m sorry, Bugaboo,” he drawls, his glowing eyes mischievous, “Could you repeat that?”

“Of course, Kitty,” she replies, equally as sardonic, “I was just discussing how fun it would be to go cataclysme Le Papillon’s head off. After ruining Christmas Day for everyone in Paris, don’t you think he deserves it?”

Standing within the ruins of the mansion’s west wing, the villain in question starts stepping backwards slowly, only to be impeded by a gigantic hunk of plaster clipping him in the back of the knees. The butterfly Miraculous wielder falls backwards onto his backside as the murderous duo stand over him, their expressions identical.

“Stop!” Le Papillon cries, raising his palms in surrender, “I’m doing this for her! For Émilie!”

“Don’t bring Maman into this,” Chat Noir hisses, spinning his baton in the light of the fire. A few years ago, Adrien might have surrendered then and there. But now?

Now he had his new family to protect.

“Shall I do the honours?”

Chat smiles and motions with his arm invitingly, eyes grazing his fuming fiancé, “The honours all yours.”

Whisking her yoyo’s string around with a cracking thwack so loud even Chat can’t help but wince, his heavily pregnant partner brings her magical weapon down on Le Papillon’s head with a crunch.

Christmas In New York - Lea Michelle

Marinette Dupain-Cheng squares her shoulders and grins widely, stepping out through the revolving doors of the Four Seasons Hotel in New York City. The thrill of life in the Big Apple fills her heart with excitement as she spins around and waves at the doorman.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Dupain-Cheng!”

“Merci!” she chimes, smiling at him over her shoulder. There’s a limousine waiting for her out front and the chauffeur opens the back door as she approaches, taking her gloved hand in his so she doesn’t trip, “Are we headed to work, Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette offers him a cheeky grin, “Can we get stuck in traffic for an hour or two? I need to do a little shopping for my friends and family before I fly home.”

“Of course,” her chauffeur dips his head, his own smirk hidden by his impressive mustache, “I suppose the traffic must be terrible near Fifth Avenue at this time of day.”

“I agree,” Marinette settles into the leather seats of the stretch limo and relishes in the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She’s so excited to return to Paris after two wonderful weeks overseas working with the crème de la crème of the American fashion world, no thanks to her business with Jagged Stone. She’s walked through a festively decorated Central Park and taken selfies from the top of the Rockefeller Centre. She’s even watched the Rockettes perform their high flying kicks at Radio City and visited the Macy’s Christmas window display! The city that never sleeps hasn’t disappointed her in the slightest, especially draped in the red and greens of Christmastime.

She passes by beautiful holiday trees and flickering fairy lights as they weave their way through Manhattan and, although she can’t wait to hug her Maman and Papa at the airport in just a few more days, she’s already planning her next Christmas in New York.

Bring Me Love - John Legend

Sliding across his apartment floor in his Christmas socks, Adrien clutches a banana in his hand and sings into the stem with all the excitement and enthusiasm of a man who’s about to rock his fiancé’s world. He wiggles his hips and kicks his free leg, boogying down to the saxophone and bass and he is feeling fabulous, the tree is looking fabulous and everything is absolutely fabulous. Marinette would be thrilled with his decorating skills, especially since he’s been left to his own devices for the past two weeks while she’s been away on business. She’ll be landing in Charles du Gaulle in just a few short hours and Adrien has cookies baking in the oven (dough courtesy of Tom, of course) and mistletoe hanging over the doorway. All he needs to make his Christmas homecoming a success would be having his beautiful, successful, gorgeous fiancé by his side.

If only Santa would bring her home faster!

He’s put on his Rudolph boxers for the special occasion and bops his shower soggy hair to the beat, letting it fly everywhere. It might be -8℃ outside but it’s toasty warm inside their little flat in Le Marais and Adrien intends to put the love in their lovenest tonight.

He drops it low and snaps, spinning around on the balls of his feet. He feels amazing and there’s adrenaline and an irrepressible joy surging through his veins as he hops onto the cushions of the couch and channels his inner Beyoncé, howling the high notes with all his might. He can’t hold in his love any longer and leaps off the furniture with a karate kick, landing in a crouch only to pop back up again with a pirouette that would have put his alter ego’s talents to shame.

A giggle from the kitchen leaves him skidding in his tracks.

“Who’s there?”

Her face half hidden by her mittens, a thoroughly amused Marinette steps into the colourful glow of the Christmas tree, “Are you wearing Rudolph boxers?”

Adrien, for all intents and purposes, has never been happier to hear the love of his life critique his undergarments, “MARINETTE!”

“Hey Kitt—mmpf!”

Capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, Adrien drops his banana and spins her around in a searing embrace that leaves them both dizzy and breathless. When he finally sets her back down onto the floor, Marinette is thoroughly smitten with her fiancé all over again.

“Miss me?” he asks, peppering every centimetre of exposed skin with kisses, “Because I thought I was going to wither away to nothing if you were gone for another minute.”

“I missed you,” Marinette’s knees quiver as he undoes her winter coat and throws it onto the kitchen counter behind them, “I missed you so much.”

“Oh my god, your voice,” Adrien wraps his arms around her waist and buries his face in her neck, “Your smell, your skin, your hair, your lips. You are never leaving for that long ever again without me.”

Marinette laughs and Adrien soaks in the beautiful sound, “Deal.”

“Good,” Adrien says, still damp and half naked, “How did I do?”

He gestures to the decorations draped all over their studio apartment and Marinette feels her heart stutter beneath the absolute flood of emotion thudding through her chest, “You did amazing, Adrien. It looks beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he kisses her again, “Christmas must have come early because all I wished for was you.”

Pressing their foreheads together, Marinette boops him on the nose, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!

💋Bronte

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous christmas #adrinette #ladynoir #ml secret santa

[frost-pink]

Make My Wish Come True

(working on this list of prompts for the advent - Read it on AO3!!!!!)

It was the beginning of December and Christmas markets had been set up and running for a week now, selling kitsch and mulled wine all over the city. It had even already snowed, but all that was left of it around the mansion was ice, and what resembled clumpy white cement. In London the snow had quickly turned into slush, and then melted away, the constant traffic a strong opponent against the picture of a snow-covered city landscape.

But for the Kingsman this time of year also meant that Eggsy would soon send them his Christmas playlist.

It started with Roxy borrowing his iPod one day to go down to the gym, hers having been confiscated by R&D after a mission, as it doubled as a listening device. Scrolling through his music, she noticed at least 120 different playlists, all named and sorted by different themes. There was Daisy’s favourite lullabies, Parkour 1 through 16, Winding Down, and even Salsa for Cooking.

He created a playlist at least once a month, always under a different motto and sometimes on request. What started out as him sharing his favourites with Roxy, turned into a Kingsman wide phenomenon and soon the entire staff started following him on Spotify, his new releases highly anticipated.

Roxy was a big fan of the Outside Running playlist and Meditation after 4pm tracks could be heard regularly when one walked into Percival’s office. There were even bets going around as to what theme he would cover or whose request for a playlist would be catered to next. Such bets were currently rather limited, as everybody agreed that Christmas was really the only viable choice for this month’s upcoming playlist.

------

Harry Hart was by no means a religious man. He couldn’t even remember the last time he attended a service in a church. And now, after Kentucky, he doubted he would ever voluntarily enter one again. Luckily, as he was now Arthur, and only rarely went out into the field, he got to choose where he went himself.

Still, some traditions he would uphold. Decorations and a tree for Christmas being one of them. Not because of any spiritual connotations they supposedly had, but just to remember the holidays he spent with his family as a child, when he viewed the world with innocent eyes and believed in wonders and miracles. Having lived life as a Kingsman he knew how precious such a view of the world was. Having a tree and a wreath reminded him of what it was that he was protecting.

If anyone should ever ask, this is the reason he’d give them. The fact of the matter was, that Harry Hart liked pretty things, and if they sparkled, then all the better.

It was now around 4pm on the first Sunday of Advent and as it was starting to get dark outside, he grabbed a box of matches and lit the first candle of the advent wreath, the candles all crimson this year instead of the traditional purple and pink.

When he sat back down he saw a notification blinking on his computer - Eggsy’s new playlist had finally arrived. He clicked the link and was redirected to Eggsy’s profile on Spotify. It looked different than before but Harry attributed that to the change in season and didn’t spare it any more thoughts. He clicked Play, without checking the list of songs. He preferred to be surprised by Eggsy’s creation, waiting to see if he would get more traditional carols, newer interpretations of classic songs, or a mix of the two. The first notes already clued him in as to what song was the first on the list. All I Want For Christmas Is You was a classic song of the season, at this point, and it held a special place in Harry’s heart, as it came out the same year that Harry was appointed as Galahad to the table.

As it played, Harry continued to go over his paperwork. The song ended. Only to begin again. Harry thought it was odd, but maybe Eggsy had accidentally selected the song to be in his playlist twice. A minor oversight.

He became confused, when, after the second time the song ended, it didn’t change to a different piece of music, but repeated once more.

He checked to see the entire list of songs, only to find it was almost exclusively Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You with one It’s Not Unusual by Tom Jones thrown in as track eight, before it showed another thirteen plays of All I Want For Christmas Is You.

This had to be highly irregular. Who would ever intentionally select the same piece of music this many times in a row? But then Eggsy was a trained spy, attention to detail not so much a habit as second nature to him. Maybe he was playing a prank on the staff with this playlist?

Harry decided to go down to the break room and make himself some tea, the issue of the playlist preoccupying his mind much more than it should. He just couldn’t make sense of it. Why that song in particular?

“Good afternoon, sir.” Roxanne appeared next to him, reaching for a plate and stacking a pile of brownies on it. Gawain’s wife ran a bakery in Chelsea and her brownies were loved by all. Grabbing as many as you could without seeming greedy before they were all gone was the general approach among the knights.

Harry, in his confused state, hadn’t even noticed the tray. “Good afternoon, Roxanne. Stocking up on baked goods for your upcoming mission, I see.”

“I accidentally broke R&D’s prototype for a hair-clasp containing sleeping gas, so I intend to bribe them with the brownies before I’m off. At least the flight to Baku is long enough to get through Eggsy’s new playlist. It has all my favourites on it.” She smiled at Harry, then checked her watch. “I have to get going, if I intend to make it down to Merlin’s lair before my flight. Have a good day, sir!”

“Good luck, Lancelot.” Harry watched Roxy leave with more than half the chocolate bakes, staring after her bemusedly. ‘All of her favourites’ when there were only two songs, and one of them wasn’t even Christmas themed?

Harry finished preparing his tea and made his way back to his office.

“Ah, Harry, I was just coming to see you.” Harry turned to see Merlin come down the corridor to meet him. “There’s a situation in Oslo that you should be aware of, it might be necessary to send someone to make sure it doesn’t escalate into another Valentine-esque fiasco.”

“Of course, let’s go to my office.” Harry and Merlin continued down the corridor, Merlin starting to explain what exactly was happening, or at least appearing to happen, in Norway. Harry was listening, but in the back of his mind he was still thinking about that stupid playlist. How could it possibly take up so many of his thoughts, it was only a list of songs!

“Harry?” Of course Merlin noticed his lack of attention and called him out on it. “Did you hear anything I just said to you?”

“Yes, yes, Scandinavian maniac trying to send subliminal messages through twitter, I heard you.”

“Right.” Merlin didn’t appear to be entirely convinced. After all, 25 years of friendship meant that the two men knew each other as well as two people possibly could. “Is there something on your mind?”

“It’s nothing, really. Have you taken a look at Eggsy’s new playlist for Christmas?”

Merlin obviously hadn’t expected this line of inquiry. “Aye, the lads down at R&D put it on the speakers, why?”

“What is the first song on it?”

“Some carol, O Holy Night, I think.”

“So not the Mariah Carey song?”

“I expect it to be in there somewhere. Harry, are you alright?” Merlin had stopped walking and with a hand to Harry’s arm, stopped the other man. He was starting to get concerned. Harry experienced regular migraines and Merlin was still monitoring him closely. While it was a miracle in and of itself, that Harry survived getting shot in the head with as little lasting damage as he had, he wasn’t willing to take any chances on their Arthur’s health.

“I’m fine, Merlin. Hand me the dossier and I’ll look it over now. Whom did you intend to send? Is Bedivere back from Italy yet?”

Merlin handed over the file he was carrying. “Bedivere’s mission is still ongoing, Percival and Tristan could be dispatched.”

“Alright, talk to them and then decide who’s going. Let’s all meet in my office in two hours. Anything else?” Harry’s tone of voice made it clear that he was done talking about anything not work-related.

“No, sir. I’ll be by your office at 6.30.” With that, Merlin walked back down the way they had just come and pressed the button to call the lift.

------

It was 9pm, Tristan preparing for his new mission, and most of the support staff had gone home. Harry was still in his office, handling paperwork. He was glad that he could still be involved in the proceedings of Kingsman, after months of physical therapy and regular sessions with a psychotherapist. Many would have retired after experiencing what he had, but Kingsman was his life and even obscene amounts of paperwork were better than spending too much time in an empty house, just in the company of his butterflies and Mr. Pickle.

A knock on the door interrupted whatever Harry had been thinking about R&D’s new lab equipment. He knew that Merlin only sent him the requisition forms pro forma and therefore wasn’t too invested in the details. Better to let Merlin have free reign regarding his department. “Come in.”

The door opened and Eggsy walked in with a tray, carrying a tea set and a plate full of brownies. “Evening, Harry. Thought I might still find you here.” He placed the tray on Harry’s desk, made himself a cup and then sat down in one of the chairs next to the window.

“Thank you, Eggsy. I see you’re still sitting down in other people’s chairs without prompting.” The words were more teasing than chiding, Harry knowing perfectly well that Eggsy knew how to portray the perfect gentleman when he felt it as needed.

“Baby-steps, Harry. I knocked. You want both, you’re just greedy.” Eggsy’s smile still took Harry’s breath away.

After he’d come back to England he was more than glad to see that Eggsy had survived what was now known as V-Day. The fact that his protégé stopped the world from destroying itself filled him with immense pride. It was a fairly emotional reunion, both apologising for the words they had said before Harry left for Kentucky.

Looking over at where Eggsy was sitting and nibbling on a brownie, he thought to have caught a wistful look on the younger man’s face.

“Is everything alright?” The only answer he got was some mumbling around a mouthful of chocolate, before Eggsy looked out of the window. In the dark he would only see his reflection, but Harry didn’t draw attention to that fact. Trying to change to subject he asked, “Shouldn’t you be in Stockholm?”

“There’s nothing for me in Stockholm.” Eggsy placed his cup on a nearby table.

Harry was confused. He knew that the Swedish Royal family had planned a party for this weekend, Eggsy telling him about it the week before. “I thought…”

“Tilde and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.” Eggsy interrupted him.

This surprised Harry. “I’m sorry to hear that. She seemed to be a lovely woman.”

“She is. But there’s no point in us being together when I can’t give her what she deserves. Not fair to her, when I’m in love with someone else. Doesn’t portray the idea of a gentleman, does it? So no. There’s nothing for me in Stockholm. Not when you are right here.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. He knew what he wanted those words to mean, but he wouldn’t dare to dream. He preferred to be ignorant of the possibilities rather than to get his hopes up and be disappointed.

“Harry, didn’t you listen to the playlist I sent you?” Eggsy stood up and crossed the office and around the desk, stopping right in front of Harry. He almost sounded sad at the idea.

“It’s playing right now, Eggsy.” It was the playlist that everyone else got. As it turned out, the link he had been sent was to a different profile Eggsy had created, only containing the one playlist full of Mariah Carey. Harry had spent quite some time over-analysing the meaning behind this, before deciding for himself, that it was just a prank on Eggsy’s part.

“That’s the regular one, yes. Didn’t you get the one I sent you directly?”

“I did. Although I wasn’t sure what to make of it. It seems you sent me a different one compared to everyone else.” Harry was making himself busy looking at anything other than Eggsy.

“You didn’t know what to make of a custom playlist made up of 20 tracks of All I Want For Christmas Is You? Didn’t you hear what I just said? Why Tilde and I broke it off? She knew. She knew before even I did. Didn’t want to admit to it. How could I ever be good enough for you?”

Harry whipped his head around to look at Eggsy. “Don’t! Don’t ever think so little of you! You are…” Eggsy’s words had finally caught up with Harry. The need to reprimand Eggsy for disparaging himself like this evaporating as he saw the look in Eggsy’s eyes. There was so much hope and love there, the picture matching the one Harry had often thought about and dreamed of when no-one else could see.

He could have this. They could have this.

There was a lot riding on this moment. Their entire future relationship would be decided on whatever happened in the next minute.

“What about the Tom Jones song?” Harry wasn’t entirely sure he meant to say that.

Eggsy smirked for a moment. “Inside Joke. I’ll explain it later.” He lifted his hand to Harry’s cheek, stroking his thumb just underneath the eye-patch. “Harry.” His voice almost sounded as if he was in pain. “Please?”

Harry didn’t dare breathe. This was a moment to be preserved for the ages.

“I…” He didn’t know what to say. There were no words good enough to articulate how he felt in that moment. All he could do was give a subtle nod, barely even visible.

But Eggsy had been waiting for it. For any kind of sign that he wasn’t alone in this. That Harry reciprocated his feelings. He moved his other hand to rest on Harry’s neck, leaned down and moved closer towards him until they were barely a breath away, lips almost touching. “May I?”

“Yes.” Harry replied and closed the distance.

What started as a soft press of lips soon turned into a passionate kiss, tongues fighting for dominance, hands gripping at hips and ruffling hair. When they broke away from the kiss, they kept close, both breathing heavily.

“That was better than I ever thought it would be.” Eggsy smiled and pressed another kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“Indeed it was. You taste of chocolate.”

Eggsy started laughing at the statement, Harry soon joining in. Their eyes met and they could read their own happiness in each other’s faces.

Eggsy leaned in again, stopping just a hair’s breath away, like he had before. “May I?”

“Always.”

#kingsman #fanfiction #hartwin #fanfic #fic rec #harry hart #eggsy unwin #eggsy #merlin #roxy morton #my writing #meins