Harry Hart Aesthetics:
“I asked you to stop being dead.”
“I heard you.”
Acquired Stardust
taylor price
cherry valley forever

Kiana Khansmith
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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Not today Justin

Kaledo Art
Claire Keane
AnasAbdin

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shark vs the universe
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izzy's playlists!
styofa doing anything

@theartofmadeline
YOU ARE THE REASON
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Love Begins

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@myfairoxfords
Harry Hart Aesthetics:
“I asked you to stop being dead.”
“I heard you.”
“The bitch is back”
Kingsman: The Golden Circle fanart by Xanseviera @ 2017
Yeah, the first piece of fanart in a new fandom totally should be porn.
Taron Egerton, Golden Boy
Action, explosions and impeccable tailoring, the new Kingsman film has it all. Following the worldwide success of the first film of the franchise, Kingsman: The Golden Circle is set to hit the big screens this September and packs a star-studded cast. Taron Egerton talks about the excitement of returning to the role of Eggsy for the sequel, his on-screen love interest and what to expect for the highly anticipated release.
Where is Eggsy when we pick up with him?
We meet Eggsy an undisclosed amount of time after the first [film]. But you can see in his mews house that there are three additional Sun headlines on the wall, indicating that he’s done a handful of missions on his own. And he is now going steady, to use a very 1950s term, with – shock horror – the Swedish princess from the first movie. Love blossomed in an unusual place. He’s trying to juggle the lifestyle of being a Kingsman and a full-time spy with also trying to nurture a blossoming relationship with a person who he really loves. He’s basically the same guy, just with a really important job.
He still has those rough edges?
Oh, the rough edges haven’t been sanded off. Eggsy still fucks up. That’s essential for the audience to have a window into the movie, to experience it through his eyes. He still has to escape through a sewer and emerge covered in shit. That’s not Harry Hart. That’s Eggsy. If we’d started the movie with Eggsy being Harry Hart, he wouldn’t have anywhere to go. He’s the rough-around-the-edges lad. We even see him return to an adidas hoodie – that’s who he is on his downtime.
This is your third film now with Matthew Vaughn, who also produced Eddie The Eagle. You clearly work well together – were you in contact with him as he pulled the movie together?
For the whole time he was writing, he always calls and says ideas. There is a real big kid in Matthew. When he has an idea he’s excited about he wants to share it. Just when you think you have a handle on Matthew, who he is and how his creative brain works, he comes in with something else which is really fucking clever. On a daily basis, it’s something I could never have thought of.
The first movie was your first time on a movie set. Did it feel easier this time?
On the first one I thought Matthew could fire me at any moment. I was a bit more tight-lipped and reverential. Now I give as good as I get. It felt easier in that I’ve spent far more time on film sets, and felt more certain of myself and how I function within a film set and this world I now occupy. In other senses, Matthew kept calling it the tough second album, and it is. People shout ‘Eggsy!’ at me in the street sometimes, and that’s quite a thing to reconcile yourself with, that you’re coming back and playing the same role again, and people have a level of expectation from you. They want the same thing again, but they also want it to be new and exciting. Kingsman has totally changed my life, so coming back, the overriding emotion was excitement, and real anticipation. The script was great, and it’s a really great story. I was so excited, and to be doing a sequel to your first film within four years of coming out of drama school, I am the luckiest man on the planet.
Have you changed your approach to the character?
On the first, I was constantly thinking about the accent and it doesn’t cross my mind now. He’s very much a part of me. I don’t think about it for a second now. I’ve played this character from his inception and I feel secure.
The best-kept secret in movies – that Colin Firth is back as Harry Hart – is now out. So what can you say about Eggsy’s relationship with Harry in this movie?
Well… we were on the same set, and we are friends and I love his company, and it was really nice to revisit a job well done. There were a lot of ways Matthew could have gone with the sequel, but in my mind, there was no doubt. I’m not sure how far the movie goes without that Harry and Eggsy relationship. That dynamic, and riffing on that dynamic, is the beating heart of the movie.
Has the relationship changed?
When they are reunited, it’s lovely. It’s very affecting and they’re pleased to see each other. But for undisclosed reasons, a tension grows in their relationship. That’s enormously fun and an interesting dynamic. When Harry and Eggsy’s relationship came to its untimely end in the first one, they weren’t on good terms. It’s quite sad. Eggsy hasn’t dealt with the situation particularly well. So in this movie you expect a reconciliation and you get it, but because of other facts it’s not always harmonious. Matthew knows that’s the key. You’ve got all the guns and fighting and that makes it brilliant, but for me it’s about Harry and Eggsy.
Early in the film, an attack on Kingsman has huge ramifications for Eggsy. What are those ramifications?
What it means for Eggsy is he was disenfranchised at the start of the first one, and aimless and not content. This wacky world he becomes involved with gives him direction and purpose, so to dash it to smithereens at the top end of this second episode is mad. Eggsy doesn’t really know what the hell to do. Sometimes sequels don’t work. This works because we get a reset. Everything was OK, and now it’s not again.
The big new additions to the film are the Statesmen, the American equivalent of Kingsmen, who Eggsy and Merlin discover in the wake of the attack on their own organisation. What can you say about these new arrivals?
The Kingsmen make their money through tailoring and that’s their front, but it’s more limited in terms of reward and finances than selling booze. The Statesmen are a level up. We thought our jet was good, but theirs is a fucking jet. You can see Eggsy being wide-eyed with wonder again.
The cast Vaughn has assembled for this movie is astonishing.
It’s amazing. One minute you’re working in Peacocks and then all of a sudden you’re sat at a table with Jeff Bridges, Colin Firth, Channing Tatum and Halle Berry! It’s a weird thing to be part of. They’re such great characters and so animated and larger than life and played by such great performers.
What’s the relationship like between Eggsy and the Statesmen?
I think to begin with it’s one of mistrust. These organisations aren’t aware of each other. They’re only supposed to become aware of each other in the event of a serious disaster. Eggsy and Merlin find themselves face to face with Agent Tequila, and have a fight… I don’t recommend fighting Channing Tatum. He’s a dancer, but that guy is like an ox. I had a few sore fingers after that.
Talk us through the Statesmen.
Ginger (played by Halle Berry) is the equivalent of Merlin. She’s very clever and you might describe her as bookish, she’s a quieter character. And then there’s Channing Tatum, who has a bit of bravado and is butch and manly. He’s quite gung-ho. He likes his weekend parties. He ends up in stasis, having taken some sort of illicit substance. Jeff as Champagne is really cool. He’s an alcoholic who doesn’t drink, but is forever swilling and spitting whiskey, or he sniffs the whiskey as he’s talking and trying to figure [stuff] out. Then there’s Pedro Pascal, who plays agent Whiskey, and he is a kind of seasoned veteran, their top field agent, who takes me under his wing. For a little while, it begins to feel like he might be a new mentor figure for Eggsy in the absence of Harry Hart, who is not quite what he once was. But you also get the sense that Whiskey might be a little reckless, and a little cold.
And, of course, there’s Julianne Moore as the villain of the piece, Poppy.
She has a dastardly plot that’s every bit as chilling as Valentine’s plot from the first movie. That’s thematic of these two films. There’s a very cold world in which you get what Valentine was saying about global warming. You can also sort of see where Poppy is coming from, depending on how conservative you are. But Julianne is lovely. She’s a children’s author as well and heard that I had two young sisters and she sent some of her books. She’s really great in the movie, really disturbing and saccharine and rotten to the core. The smile never reaches the eyes.
The first film pushed the envelope with its R-rated tone, exploding heads and stylish violence. Does the second follow that up?
You’re not going to be leaving the cinema feeling like Matthew played it safe this time. It takes a character like Matthew’s to be as resolute and uncompromising as that, in the face of all the pressures that come when it’s a commercially viable property. If you call the first one provocative, you’d call this one a punch in the face.
So it’s a movie that may ruffle feathers.
I think it may ruffle feathers more than the first one ruffled feathers.
This is the interview and photos that appeared in M2 Magazine
This is the most important thing I have ever reblogged
I have discovered the wonders of 00Q.
Commander James Bond and his Quartermaster.
Okay new idea, live action version of The Road To El Dorado starring these two
……… *jaw drops*
oh my GODS YES
Outtakes from the interview.
YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
More TFA sketches (Poe’s face is too good for me)
Stiles/Peter black rook? (i can't make it make the symbol on mobile :( )
♜: Shoulder rubs
A/N: Sorry, this took a while, but I hope it’s okay! <3
Stiles has eyes, he has eyes on everyone. It’s a habit that didn’t start from a nice place, it started as a safety measure because nobody noticed when he had been possessed and he won’t let something like that happen again. So yeah. That’s the reason he pays close attention to everyone, and that’s why he notices when something is wrong with anyone in the pack.
The others might be oblivious, but Stiles can’t help but see the way Peter is poised for caving in on himself.Nobody seems to notice the way he holds himself - too still and too rigid.
He can’t really fault the man, salamanders are bad. They are fire and destruction, leaving behind a line of bodies - blackened and burned. The pack gets too close to ending just like that - clothes singed and slightly smoking by the time they finish with the last of them. But they can’t undo the damage already done; three homes in town going up in flames, taking people with them. Peter comes very, very close to dying in a fire for the third time, and it seems like that’s the end of the rope for him.
Stiles watches. It’s his most valuable skill, paying attention and getting the bigger picture.
Right now the bigger picture is that Peter might go down the deep end again if someone doesn’t do something about the tension that makes him look fragile and deadly at the same time. And as luck would have it, that someone is Stiles.
The pack breaks up pretty quick. Liam gets straddled with burying the bodies - he seems to be good with finding holes anyway - and everyone else goes their own way to clear the smell of burnt flesh from their noses.
Stiles follows Peter to his apartment, and it’s telling proof that the man doesn’t even notice the fact that he is being tailed.
He gives him twenty minutes, sitting in the jeep just a block away and thinking about what to do. He is relatively sure that he won’t get killed, he seems to be one of the few people Peter not only tolerates, but occasionally even searches out. Lydia is the other, but Stiles really doesn’t want to think about that particular mess.
He still doesn’t have a plan when he knocks on the door, but he is confident in winging things for now.
He has to wait a long time for Peter to open up, and when he does, it makes Stiles’ mouth go a little dry. He’s only wearing a towel around his waist, hair still dripping water onto his broad shoulders.
“What do you want?” the man asks, steelier than usual.
Stiles fakes a grin and pushes inside.
“Just came over to check on you, you know, in case you combust with tension.”
It’s the worst choice of words possible, but they both know it’s deliberate. And just like Stiles expected, Peter knowing that he’s onto him makes all the difference. His shoulders bunch up a bit tighter, but there’s a spark of cunning interest in his eyes instead of the emptiness from before.
“How very thoughtful,” he says, sarcasm dripping from his voice, and just like that, Stiles knows he will be okay. He could go, mission accomplished, but he decides against it.
“That’s me, Tactful is my middle name,” he says, wandering deeper into the apartment. Peter trails after him, eyebrow raised.
“And here I thought it was Marek…”
Stiles stops. He is pretty sure Peter isn’t supposed to know that, but well. Paying attention is one of the things they share.
“Point. Sit down,” Stiles tells him. Peter seems dubious and a bit suspicious, but he does. The back of his couch isn’t too high, which is just what Stiles needs right now.
The man tenses when he steps out of his line of sight, but that’s to be expected.
Stiles rubs his hands together to warm them a bit before he gets to work.
The first touch makes Peter jerk, but as soon as Stiles digs his fingers in, practically clawing at the knots of tension he relaxes.
“You are a man of many talents,” the werewolf admits a few minutes later, voice soft and a bit dazed as his muscles are beaten into submission.
Stiles smiles a bit, comfortable in the knowledge that Peter can’t see him. His hands are starting to cramp up, but the man’s skin feels right under his palms, soft and smooth. He smells like shampoo and shower gel - the expensive kind - and warmth.
Stiles tries to tell himself that he’s only here because he needed to make sure Peter wasn’t falling apart at the seams and taking all of them with him, but well. He might have needed something too, to feel like he could still fix things. Maybe not the rampage of fiery supernatural creatures, maybe not everything, but some things. Important things.
Innit, Bruv
The young woman that walks out of the station barely resembles the child he’d given Lee’s medal to all those years ago. Same dirty blonde hair, shaved to almost two centimeters under the horrid snapback she was sporting, and bright green eyes, wary and intelligent. She has the medal hanging around her neck on a thin chain. He watches as she pauses at the sight of him – the tip of her tongue rolled and resting behind her front teeth as her gaze slowly grazes him from top to bottom. Twice.
The look burns him a little. Only years of trained self-control keeping him from preening like a peacock. He’s flattered, honestly, even knowing that his occupation necessitates him being in top form. To have a girl that is old enough to be his daughter, and not unattractive herself, look at him in such a way. Well.
He notes when she decides to ignore him to head past and toward the stairs going down, can’t help to huff when her gait changes. Her torso going more languid under the light blue polo and grey puff jacket. Her hips rolling enticingly within tight black jeans. All to draw his attention without any commitment.
Clearing his throat, he calls out to her. “Eggsy. Would you like a lift home?”
She startles, but hides it well. Instantly on the defensive. “Who’re you?”
“The man that got you released.”
“That ain’t an answer. Wot? Won’ me to thank ye?” Eggsy ducks her head down to look at him through long lashes. “Not gonna get down on me knees for ya, pengting.”
I Regret Nothing
It’s times like this when Eggsy regrets the way his mind works. Staring at the detective across from him, spouting off his record like he knows him. Loss of father at age seven, impressive scores on his A Levels despite his upbringing, enlistment to her majesty’s Royal Navy and subsequent leave, followed by petty theft, drug handling, and now… stolen vehicle taken for a joyride resulting in damage of property. Sure, yea, he could rat out his friends. But that ain’t his way.
The detective gives up, leaves him alone with the blower for his last call before being locked up. He fingers the medal at his neck. A phrase spoken to his mum. Remembers soft brown eyes looking down at him. He’d been holding onto one of the snowglobes his da gifted him with after each return abroad. Breath leaves him in an abrupt exhale, it won’t hurt to try.
A feminine voice responds from the other side of the line spouting some shite about a tailor shop and for christ’s sake, this number was how old? He should’ve known better than to ring someone after seventeen years with how the world has come to adopt new technology at the alarming rate that humans do everything. The bird is still rambling on about location and scheduling.
“Oxfords, not brogues.” He whispers it. Cringes at his idiocy before hanging up. He swipes off his cap and his other hand rubs down his face as the rest of his body loses all tension like a puppet with cut strings. His head falls back to stare at the white buzz of the lights above him. He should’ve called his mum.
“Dammit!”
---
“Lancelot, I have an extraction for you.”
“Kind of in the middle of an argument, Merlin,” a bullet collides into the wall where her head was not five seconds ago. “Might I remind you that you were the one to send me- pardon-”
Merlin watches the feed on his screen as Lancelot deftly ducks the arm that whipped out behind the hallway corner she was to pass. The video jots around as his agent incapacitates a man almost twice her size.
“-into this prick measuring feud between the Gibson brothers. Bloody skirt suits. I’m getting Excalibur to tailor me an abundance of trousers when I get back, see that I won’t.” She’s speed-walking down the corridor, glock out in front of her. “Now what are you on about an extraction? I thought Tristan’s team was handling all PASIV cases.”
“Not that kind of extraction.” Though it might actually be. His eyes glide over to the screen to his left. A photograph of a young man, details in black and green. A flag on this particular file had brought it to his attention after being opened for edits at a station in South London along with a low-voiced recording on the shop’s line. He’s done the obligatory digging, of course, after it had appeared on his screen. There was an attached video log from the CCTV of the boy finessing a bright yellow sports car through busy streets, backwards. Nose-to-nose with the yard. Although quite impressive, Merlin was more intrigued by the encrypted file from the man’s time in the Royal Navy. Classified. Detailing an unique reaction to certain training.
“He used Galahad’s code phrase for family in trouble.”
“Galahad’s M.I.A., and sir, both of us know he doesn’t have family.”
“Exactly. I’ll email you his location and your flight details. Please report to HQ by o-eight-hundred hours tomorrow morning.”
“Make it first class and I’ll have him in-tow by o-seven-hundred.”
Merlin’s lips twitched up in the corner for a second. “Deal.” The line clicked dead.
Flash Bang Boom
Hartwin Prompt: Something makes Eggsy or Harry go blind and the other takes good care of them in a lovely fluffy (and smutty if you want because feeling and hearing would be a whole new sensation) way :D
Eggsy’s got both hands on his firearm, pointing it down and away as he steps over the black clad guard he’d just downed. The carpet of the hotel hallway on the twenty-eighth floor, atrociously designed as all Las Vegas hotel carpeting are, helps to muffle his steps towards room 1052.
There’s a scuffle around the corner to his right before a round object whirrs past him to crash against the opposite wall.
“Turn your head!”
But Merlin’s order over the comm is too late because a bright light fills the space followed closely by a deafening bang. He stumbles, trying to catch himself on the wall he just had his shoulder to. The hallway is completely gone from his vision; the ringing in his head dizzying. He starts to panic at his loss of balance. Sight he can lose, he’s gone through some of the obstacle courses at HQ in complete darkness without much hassle. Balance, though, balance is something Eggsy’s prided himself in since his gym days as a child. Resting stance on the balls of his feet, shoulders and back loose, relaxed, muscles ready to tense for motion, imagining his center of gravity as a ball at the bottom of his diaphragm. To have all that wiped away? Fucking terrifying.
He starts to panic, taking in short breaths, but all that accomplishes is getting smoke from whatever the fuck just went off into his lungs and in turn making him cough.
It’s mere moments, longer than he expects for someone to grab him. He tries to draw his weapon up, but the person simply disarms him. Before he can react negatively the gun is placed into the holster at the small of his back, fingers warm where they graze his skin. That knowledgeable touch is a comfort. He mouths his partner’s name, but if there’s sound coming out he can’t hear it.
Well
I'm back after almost a year and a half. What a crazy time it's been. (Just in time for Kingsman 2.) It was a nightmare finding the email this account is attached to. How are all my lovelies?
I have loved the stars too fondly, to be fearful of the night. - Sarah Williams