#madegalahad

[rottweilerrr]

[ a text message with an image attachment at the pleasant hour of 3:04 in the morning. a tray of lasagna, upside down, on the kitchen floor; sauce has splattered at either side, like the tattered wings of a fallen angel. ] MY LASAGA

     He’s in the middle of an important transaction when the message reaches him, which, of course, means that he’s sitting on the toilet with his phone and a bottle of lager next to it because the bathroom really is man’s last refuge in such trying times. The notification at shortly past 3 A.M. interrupts him scrolling through gamer memes, so he swipes it away to come back to it later, which can range from a few minutes to within the next three to five business months.

At 3:20 A.M., when the blog stops being funny and starts being kinda racist instead, he decides to see what else is up and finally opens the text that he got earlier. The sight that reveals itself to him is both heinous and deeply satisfying—heinous because he’s on difficult terms with anything that requires more than just adding a gulp of hot water and heinous also because shit, he could really go for some good, crisp lasagna right about now, and satisfying because he knows well enough that Eggsy Unwin never makes lasagna in the middle of the night to actually eat it. So, note to himself: don’t bring the car tomorrow.

For now, however, he’s going to grace him with something that will stick in the same way a family serving of Italian cuisine would: a slightly fuzzy, slightly from-below picture of his face zoomed in just enough that you can still make out the fact that he’s in the bathroom — and certainly not to brush his teeth.

     [ text: 3:32 A.M. ]  jonatan im craving the noodle

[tiltedhalos-a]

          “  sod off ,  unwin.  you’re holding me back.  ”     there’s a fire somewhere in the pit of charlie’s stomach that’s keen to remind him of how much kerosene he’s laced in the words spat.   he can only think of that night ,  how new and fucking terrifying vulnerability had felt.   now he’s shoring up walls quicker than he can blink.   and he’d tried to avoid eggsy ,  tried to prevent this ,  but isolation’s favorite companion is aggression.           @madegalahad 

[motherstyle-a]

❛             –––      let       me       guess    .             ❜              official    cortez     coaster     is    placed    in    front    of    him   ,       black     napkin    as    a    side    .       with    practiced    ease   ,      she    prepares    for    his    order   .        &     truly   ,      she    can’t     help     herself        :             ❛             martini   .       shaken    ,       not    stirred    .            ❜          /       @madegalahad   liked    .

[likementor]

@madegalahad​ because monty is a little cockshit

       ❝ you shouldn’t be one to complain about the cold when you choose not to wear a coat out. ❞ autumnal hues call for an insistence on layers when out and about london town. but of course, for the young, obtuse and fashion-savvy, practicality often ranks very lowly on the scale of things. which accounts for eggsy leaving the house in only his tracksuit and a shirt underneath, boasting some preternatural resistance to chilly climate when harry suggests that he wear something over it all. a half-hour in, and he spies the telltale tremble that breaks out down the length of the boy’s spine. walking up alongside him in equal pace, the weight of his pea-coat is shifted off the breadth of his shoulders and draped over a more diminutive stature. ❝ button it all the way up, lest you come down with a cough. ❞

[thatsthejob]

@madegalahad​ | continued { x }

                    This wasn’t charity. Think whatever you like, and whatever it was ------ August didn’t want to think about it at all. Actions spoke louder than words, and the actions of the younger agent prior had qualified for some respect. Some care. Eggsy would have been right to be off put by the gesture; this isn’t Walker’s kind of thing. He’d sooner slap you on your bad shoulder than TELL you he’d fetch and ice patch and ---- god forbid, literally do just that. A hand over without his typical brusque behavior. There’s no verbal courtesies exchanged, and frankly August doesn’t mind that at all. Keep it simple, Walker. 

                  The question he’s met with creases his brows in the slightest. Concern, feigned or genuine, isn’t exactly something he deals with well. So rather, he evades the question with a tender snort, before ------- god why ------- bruised fingers ruffle through sweaty hair just before digits slip down his cheek to give a soft pat.

                     ❝ ——- you want something to drink? Wait, let me rephrase, CAN you have a drink?❞ a joke, obviously, but he’s not going to spare him baby faced mockery just because he might have, potentially, spared his ass from a worse beat down earlier. He’s hardly waiting for a response, really, before he’d strolled ( sporting a limp ) to the liquor cabinet. Two glasses pried from above, and vodka ( his ) next. They’re both battle worn; clothes tattered, sweat and blood clinging to fabrics. None of it really mattered.But vodka? Vodka mattered. 

        Bottom of the glass meets Eggy’s thigh lightly; black and blue digits keeping it steady until the other’s taken it. Then, he’ll take a seat himself ------ across the way. A lift of his glass in cheers, before downing the whole thing in nearly one go. A second definitely on the way.

            ❝ You, uh, did good. Just be mindful of your nose, if it bleeds more i mean. Hit your head pretty hard, you know...❞

[hittcr-a]

@madegalahad

             “you-- - c’mon, man. you can’t go line dancin’ lookin’ like that, man. i mean i know th’ kingsmen got you-- - with th’ suits an’ th’ shoes-- - but you can’t tell me they took your sense’a style... we can’t run recon with you  stickin’ out-- -” eliot could probably keep going but he shut himself up really quick. it wasn’t like he didn’t like working with eggsy. hell they worked really well together. eliot just... well, he hadn’t expected eggsy to try to show up for their next mission dressed like an absolute asshole. 

[tiltedhalos-a]

❤ @ charlie!! thx

          prompt.   new year’s kiss !          @madegalahad

          of all the things charlie thought this year would bring ,  everything it had actually given him ,  the important things ,  hadn’t even made the fucking list.   never in a million years would he have imagined what he has.   never would he have imagined himself smiling ,  like the world’s biggest idiot ,  when he realizes he can make it back home in time for new year’s ,  back to eggsy fucking unwinn.     that three month long mission he’d left for took a stagnant turn ,  cheers to merlin for sending him around the fucking holidays.   the reconnaissance he was supposed to gather was impossible to get ,  namely for the fact that the target wasn’t in the damn country  – last minute trip to the maldives ,  it was –  leaving charlie with a perfect window to go home.   and he does without hesitation ,  waits to inform merlin until after he’s booked the flight ,  found his seat ,  and reached 10,000 feet in the air.   he isn’t surprised when he gets an earful of that thick brogue as soon as he lands all the way up until he reaches the kingsman new year’s party on saville row.

     they haven’t filed a close and continuing yet ,  though it’s obvious to anyone paying close enough attention.   and merlin’s more gassed about that than charlie breaking protocol ,  mainly because it’s the reason he’s broken protocol.   but to merlin’s benefit ,  he ceases the lecture when charlie blows right past him in search of eggsy.   he takes a moment to check his watch ,  almost midnight ,  and charlie wonders how exactly he got this lucky.   he certainly doesn’t fucking deserve it.

     he finds eggsy just in time ,  off to himself with roxy ,  back turned to charlie.   he makes his way through the throng of tailors ,  many of which offer a friendly enough nod  – gawain –  though he’s sure more than a few still want to skin him alive.   fair is fair ,  charlie thinks ,  an argument for another time .   the countdown’s started then ,  charlie weaving through analysts ,  agents ,  family members ( ? ) ,  and actual tailors to get to eggsy in time.   and really ,  like something out of a stupid fairytale ,  some cliché rom com he’ll never admit to possibly moderately liking ,  he pulls it off.   roxy sees him coming ,  doesn’t warn eggsy like the wonderful woman she is ,  and she only rolls her eyes when he nearly collides into eggsy with some sudden bout of desperation.

                          oh ,  he might be whipped as the kids say.

     because when charlie does get to him ,  he’s a touch too eager.   he doesn’t quite crash his lips to eggsy’s ,  but it’s dangerously close just to kiss him as the clock strikes midnight.   and lucky for him ,  eggsy’s just surprised enough it only takes a moment to kiss him back instead of gut punching him like a trained agent should when they’re ambushed as such.   and charlie prides himself ,  more like really fucking hopes ,  that eggsy’s maybe just as whipped as him.   because it only takes a moment to recognize charlie’s lips ,  only takes a moment before surprise turns to pliant ,  soft and something gentle upon recognition.

          “  happy new year’s ,  eggsy.  ”

[tiltedhalos-a]

ITS 2 AM AND MONTY IS SENDING ME CAPS FROM THRAX x OSMOSIS JONES FAN FICS THIS IS LITERALLY HELL . I AM IN HELL .