Hail Satan, and have a lovely afternoon.

From what I understand about Pillowfort, you have to pay for it, currently-- and I know it’s only 5$ to join, but I don’t think that’s something I want to do. Not that money is an issue for me, but I am just wary of putting money toward something that might not pan out.

And I’ve seen a few things on here that says erotic novels/nsfw written work will still be allowed on tumblr? I can’t actually confirm that at this time, but the whole situation still has me a bit dismayed.

I might just give up on RP all together, honestly. Maybe if I’ve an itch to write, to do so on AO3, where I’ve already made an account (but haven’t done any writing yet). I am feeling a bit depressed about the whole thing, however-- as I’m sure many people on this site are as well. 

      Eyes closed as Harry caressed his cheek, his chest, the young man becoming more pliant beneath his hand, but it was not enough to prevent him from noticing the amount of time he was going to be confined to a bed. “A week? You want me to lay here for a week? I don’t know if we have that sort of time, Harry. We don’t know what their next move is gonna be.”

       The promise of a reward at the end temporarily halted his protest, Eggsy smiling coyly as he wrapped his fingers around Harry’s and squeezed lightly. “Rewarded how? I might be open to negotiations.” The young man winked before he brought Harry’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles.

         “I know I need to recover, but I want you to promise me that you’ll watch your back in the meantime. I know you can take care of yourself, but they’re targeting you specifically, and they know more about you than makes me comfortable. I’m still allowed to worry about you.”

“Allowed to worry, yes, whilst on bedrest all the same.” He chides, a small, barely perceptible smile, gracing the corners of his lips. He understood the concern, understood the want to get out and find an end-- he’d been a young agent once, himself. 

A gentle squeeze is all he affords the younger agent’s hand as he moves to stand from Eggsy’s side. He accepts what’s been said and what’s left to say; accepts because he honestly can’t allow himself to hear any more of it. Eggsy’s words come from a good place, and all their regrets aside, he will not let any of it deter him from their new threat.

His new threat-- rather.

“Be thankful that Kingsman is still in a state of... reorganization. Else you’d be subjected to mandatory therapy sessions after the ordeal you’ve been through.” He weighs the words on his tongue, tipping his head slightly, “Not to say I couldn’t find someone to fill that void.” Statesmen would probably have better resources in that department-- though, he won’t press the issue. Not now, at least.

      Harry’s tongue was as agile as the rest of him, tantalizing the young man as his hands tightened their grip upon his shoulders. Eggsy appeared slightly unsteady on his feet, his fair cheeks flushing by the time the kiss ended. “Do you think we would regret it, Harry? I don’t. I’ve admired you for as long as I can remember.” But he was not going to push the issue; if Harry wanted to stop then Eggsy was happy to let him.

        “Let’s just relax; there’s enough for us to be concerned about without adding this to your list.” Eggsy felt a bit guilty when he detected Harry’s guilt. It was subtle, but the young man saw that it was there, and he wondered if it was the difference in their ages or classes that discouraged him. Maybe both.

          “I don’t take back what’s been done, but I won’t ask you to talk about it until you’re ready to, Harry.”

Admiration and romantic interest don’t usually go hand-in-hand, and there’s a traitorous thought that they never truly did; that Eggsy’s affection was misplaced judgement. 

     But he knows what the younger agent might say to that--... 

     Hands fall away as a small amount of distance is put between them. If he was worried about regret before, now seemed like an equally regrettable moment. 

       Fingers folded around Harry’s hands as he held them, nodding when he suggested something a bit stronger than the martinis he made. A glass of scotch was a good way for them to honor Merlin when he was not there to share a drink with them, but he was also finally glad to have some alone time with Harry. Their relationship was unique, and it only thrived when there were not any witnesses.

        The gentle touches, more affectionate than anything that indicated mere friendship, started before Harry was shot, but they were more often now that he came back from the dead. Feeling his warm skin was one more reminder when he went to sleep at night that he no longer had to dream of his death. “Yeah, scotch would be brilliant. We’ll toast to Merlin.”

        Eggsy smiled and it was somber; Harry always appeared to think his show of affection was related to some need to coddle him, but it was something other than that. It was unspoken feelings and appreciation that he was still alive, it was awe that he beat the odds and found a way to return to him when they were all so sure he was dead. It had nothing to do with thinking he was helpless. “I’m not worrying over you, you’re a capable agent, Harry. I’m just really glad you’re back.”

     “And I’m glad to be back.” And don’t those words seem a bit off kilter, as if saying so was simply to reassure himself instead of his colleague. He pours them both very generous amounts of scotch, the same malt scotch he’d kept for twenty-some odd years. It’d been a gift at Christmas, from the very man they were about to toast to. 

     He returns, holding out a glass for the younger agent to take, “To Merlin.” He lifts his own to his lips and takes a long sip. He’s accustomed to the smooth texture of the scotch, but he glances at his glass appreciatively none-the-less. 

     “I think I’d quite like to visit Michoacán, Mexico for a holiday.” He muses over the idea of it-- it’d been somewhere he’d wanted to go when he was much younger (and more recently, when he’d been afflicted with amnesia). “There’s a forest, and every year there’s a migration of Monarch butterflies escaping the colder north.”

If u insist

          “I know you were, you had every right to be angry. I should’ve trusted Kingsman, but I didn’t trust Arthur, not that Arthur. I thought it was some sort of cruel trick after I beat out his candidate in the train test, I thought he wanted me to kill my dog to get some sort of revenge. I thought he was just…flexing his power.” Chester King was never the true embodiment of Kingsman, not the way it was meant to be, and he fell to greed that ultimately got him killed. “I should’ve done what he told me to that day, but I like to think that my instincts not to trust him turned out right in the end.”

            It was a relief that there was a possibility they could still have something after all they had been through, one thing from before for each of them to hold on to, even if it meant holding on to each other. “You’re one of the most important people in mine, too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I wish I’d said it before you left for Kentucky.”

Kentucky had felt eons ago, and while the reminder of his error (his horror) stared back at him each time he looked at his reflection, it had all been too recent. “The past is just that, Eggsy-- Our task now is to focus on the present.” If he shifts the conversation, steers it away from the guilt party they seem to be having, perhaps they could come up with a solution to the whole MANTIS issue...

...as soon as Eggsy gets the needed rest his body (and his mind) desperately need. 

     He knows there’s nothing else the younger agent will be able to tell him about the hate group that seemingly has it out for him, so he doesn’t press the issue any further. Instead, he leans back, letting his hand smooth down Eggsy’s cheek, to his chest, careful not to press against the bloom of bruises spread across Eggsy’s torso. 

Everyone talking about Going to the Polls™, but as a Washingtonian: My ballot is mailed in and has pre-paid postage, and there are ballot drop boxes all over the place just in case you didn’t get a chance to mail it in on time.

       Which honestly is a great fucking thing because there’s no voter suppression (otherthanthefactthatWashingtonvotesbycaucusandifyou’renotdemocratyourvotedoesn’tactuallycount), but it means that you don’t have to take time of work or fear losing your job, or worry about how to get to a polling station if you don’t have a car or any sort of transportation.

You don’t have to worry about being disabled and not having the ability to leave your house.  You don’t have to worry about the weather or traffic or anything of the sort.

       It was no joke to Eggsy, not after a year with things unsaid, things he believed he would never get the chance to say, living his life in silent heartbreak he could not tell anyone else about. Merlin attempted to get him to discuss Harry’s death several times, but he was never able to talk about it at great length. Instead, he mourned in quiet ways; the martini he made when he settled down in the evenings, the butterflies he kept on the wall, the manners he used as he transformed into the gentleman Harry helped him become.

       “It devastated me to lose you, Harry. All of the things I should’ve told you, the way it ended the last time we saw each other. The way I feel about you isn’t new, and all I could think about after was the way you looked the last time you saw me.” Fingers grazed the skin of his cheek, his thumb tracing his cheekbone. “I’ve always loved your eyes, but there was so much disappointment in them that day.” 

         The gentle brush of Harry’s lips left the young man breathless, his heart beating like hummingbird wings in his chest as arms loosely held his neck. Eggsy clutched his jacket as he surrendered to the deepening kiss, his mouth maneuvering slowly against the other man’s before his tongue peeked out and grazed Harry’s lower lip, inviting his to join it.

      An invitation received, tongue traces against the edges of teeth, mapping out the ridges of Eggsy’s palate; to commit them to memory, the experience long due. He’s kissed many people before, played at the very ideas of relationships and flirtations for missions necessary, but never for something so personal, so painfully intimate. Here was his heart, beating for a man who, by all means, he had no right to want to be with. 

      Not in the way they’re currently engaged, at least.

     Absently, his mind supplies that Merlin would have a fit if he knew--... Already he can see the look of disapproval his colleague would give, and it’s enough for Harry to draw back, just shy of Eggsy’s lips, bringing a hand up to cup the younger agent’s cheek as thumb moves to gently swipe at plush lips. 

                 --I am so sorry I haven’t been around then! I HOPE YOU HAVEN’T ATROPHIED AND DIED, DEAR ANON! I moved to a new house, so I’ve been busy getting all that squared away (which has been super stressful), but there’s a light at the end of this drab tunnel!

Thank you for this message. I’m sorry it took forever to reply to it! 

Sorry for the lack of activity on here (or anywhere). I’ve been stressed out by moving and haven’t had the opportunity to even get on here. All my tumblr related stuff has taken a huge back seat while I get my ducks in a row.