something wasn't right with it before

I just… Can we talk about their fucking height difference for a moment..?

On one memorable Valentines day Ryan gives the whole crew hearts. Not chocolate hearts or candy hearts or even heart-shaped balloons, oh no. Fresh, hand-picked, unequivocally human hearts. More thoughtful than any store-bought gift if he does say so himself.

They’re carefully thought out, each presented differently; If Ryan’s going to do something then he’s going to do it right, wasn’t about to just throw slabs of bleeding meat down on the table and call it a day - he’s not an animal.

While it took the longest to obtain, Geoff’s is the  most simple. Sitting in a basic cooler, nothing fancy, easy to identify and not meant to last. For Geoff the gift is not the organ itself but the inevitable demise of the man it came from, the involuntary donor who’s crew will no longer be trying to push their way into Los Santos.

For Jack there is a necklace, long and elegantly simple, the tapered rose-gold vial engraved with a small heart that makes her smile. Its unassuming, decorative and fashionable, perfectly belying the way the lid is sealed shut to preserve the ash within.

Ryan has never stuffed a heart with explosives before, hadn’t quite anticipated the difficulty of it, but his efforts are instantly rewarded by the involuntary way Michael snorts into laughter at the sight of the fuse snaking out of an artery. Its impossible not to join in when it goes off, humour infectious as Michael’s eyes light up, bellowing his amusement as gore rains down around them.

Ray receives what another might consider a serial killer’s love letter. A dismembered hand left in his favourite spot points him in the direction of a warehouse containing carefully arranged entrails which in turn lead to a breadcrumb trail of teeth. Thoroughly entertained Ray follows blood and gore all around the city before finding himself on the roof of an open-air parking garage, a giant blood red heart painted across the floor with the real deal placed carefully at its centre.

Gavin’s heart is in a ornamental jar, carefully preserved, bloodless and somewhat alien in appearance. It’s an almost shocking display of thoughtfulness, concession to the fact that Gavin, of all of them, would be the most disgusted, yet also somehow the one most likely to want to keep his gift. When he doesn’t have to smell it, feel the muscle gone cold in his hands, deal with the red stain of someone else’s life, Gavin is really quite delighted with the whole deal. Absolutely horrified, sure, but in that squirmy gleeful kind of way he gets, amused by his own revulsion, calling Ryan disturbing and lovely in the same breath.

Jeremy, who knows he definitely hasn’t been with them long enough to warrant a heart of his own (thank god?) watches it all play out with a bizarre mixture of amusement, horror and the tiniest pang of longing that comes along with feeling left out. At least until Ryan appears before him, as silent and terrifying as always, and thrusts a black plastic bag into his hands before ghosting away. The moment of shocked dread (whereupon Jeremy instantly realises that yeah nope warm-fuzzies of being included aside he did not need a human heart in his life actually thanks) is instantly washed away by helpless laughter when he opens the bag and catches sight of the anatomically-correct toy heart smiling cheerfully back at him. 

Merlin Headcanon
  • Eggsy and Roxy were his favorite of the recruits.
  • After the movie, he runs detailed backgrounds on all their neighbors and hooks up their home alarms to his house so if something happens MERLIN IS ON IT. WITH A MACHINE GUN.
  • So the last new Kingsman before Roxy was Eggsy’s dad, right? 17 years ago? And he was presumable a bit older than Eggsy/Roxy, and now Merlin’s so much older he’s just like-“They’re so young! They’re just bbs!” and he gets in the habit of checking up on them, you know, totally smoothly and unobtrusively, after missions to make sure they’re doing all right.
  • The two of them get in the habit of coming into his office to sit in on each other’s missions, and he gets in the habit of making sure there’s extra tea (of all the brands they like, and he gets Eggsy ginger snaps and makes sure there’s always a box of turkish delights for Roxy, who secretly has the sweet tooth to end all sweet tooths. And when other agents try to eat the cookies he stops them). Eggsy bops in and asks idiot questions when they’re both watching Roxy’s feed - No, Eggsy, don’t touch that- -Yes, Eggsy, the entire Chelsea squad was once kidnapped and held for ransom for four days and Harry rescued them with a fountain pen and a harmonica- while Roxy tends to sit quietly and sometimes meditate and demolishes three plates full of baklava when Eggsy’s in danger. After a while he starts to think it’s too quiet when he’s by himself.
  • A couple of the other agents try to patronize Roxy or be snobbish to Eggsy, but they only try it once or twice because Merlin swoops in like a hawk and decides those agents need to redo their yearly fitness classifications (and watches them jog on treadmills with leads attached to their chests for AGES with his eyes just sparkling with glee behind his glasses -Oh, dear, I’m afraid I forgot to turn the machine on that time, that’s ten more miles for you, Tristan, chop chop- or go do really important missions in the middle of a rainforest where mosquitoes eat you alive until they think about what they’ve done. And he makes sure Roxy and Eggsy never find out.
  • Whenever one of them is in the infirmary, Merlin spoils their dogs horribly and cuddles them while he monitors other missions.
  • He feels just as responsible for Eggsy’s dad’s death as Harry (because he missed the grenade too, and he should have trained Lee to check, should have stopped him, should have known) and has made it his personal mission to see that Eggsy Unwin dies of old age.

Finally done with this, and right before the end of the day over here! :D

Wasn’t sure what to do with this before, but i finally settled with this being something to celebrate both mark’s birthday, and the friendship him and Jack have now :)

So Happy Birthday Mark, and I really hope you and Jack had a great time at Indypopcon!

“The glory days of the Doctor and Clara” or as I like to call it, the time when I have never before seen and felt such dread and anxiety over fiction in my life.

People need to know that I’m never not thinking about something and I’m never in attention for what they’re about to say so I’m not gonna register 80% of their first sentence.

You know how you can get my attention before you speak so I could understand you?

USE MY FUCKING NAME