#and i finished five years and ive had to beg for everything ive ever gotten and its still not enough to count for anything

[silverislander]

people smarter than me have said this before but jesus christ why does every job seem to require at least a year of experience and a degree in some hyperspecific field. where did the entry level positions go? how am i even supposed to get experience if none of yall will give me a job without it?

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

He did? Umm.. what happened exactly?

(referring to this post)

my 11th grade chemistry teacher had an associates degree in liberal arts.

you know how in virtually every class you’ve ever had since middle school, your teachers made a big stink about the syllabus? she didn’t have one. this was her first teaching job, which she got because of her length experience as a substitute, not by her licensing qualifications. we were, at first, excited to have her, because she was a “fun sub” and we were 17 years old and stupid as all shit. we were the “normal chem” class in a system where the only other options were “honors chem” which was filled with children who actually know how to study (or cheat) and have an air of proper student activity, and “AP Chem”, which is clear enough if you’ve been an american student in the last 15 years.

she followed the mcgraw hill chemistry book in order of chapters, despite the fact that our state standardized tests did several of the chapters out of order. ever notice how you’ll suddenly be looking at chapter 11 when just last week you were on chapter 5, then the next week you’re on chapter 8? standardized testing is the reason. anyways by asking my friends in other classes who had chemistry teachers of relative competence, i was able to discern which chapters i should focus on, and while she was distracted with literally watching youtube videos all period, I was turning around in my seat and walking across the classroom helping my friends and enemies with the packets. (she was a two-packets-a-week kinda teacher.)

yes i said enemies too. the people i hated, i hated because they were sons of bitches i wouldnt piss on to put out a fire. i hated them so dearly i used to pray to god that they would bump into me so i could throw myself into the concrete and split my forehead open and get them expelled due to the blood-clause of our “zero-tolerance policy”. two of the kids in my class had, only the previous year, attempted to set my hair on fire.

i hated the teacher more. 

it gave me extreme pleasure to see her fume and clench her fists when a student would say “i need help” across the classroom and she would move to get up and they would say “oh not you miss, im waiting for vicky.” jesus christ the only time ive ever felt a comparable high was when i was at a halloween party in college where i was literally so zooted i couldn’t move.

it got worse over time, her getting more and more angry, my ego growing larger and larger. i was a huge bitch in high school, i really thought i was the smartest bitch in the room at any given moment. severe main character syndrome. imagine that kind of person actually being right for 45 minutes out of every day. can you even comprehend the kind of frustration that would create? in a room full of little sociopaths who dont give a shit about anything but getting this joke of a class over with so they can graduate? your first real teaching job and they look right past you, the teacher, to this annoying little shit whose grades are completely abysmal? how are they managing to learn anything from a child who can barely speak in front of more than 10 people? who turns cherry red in the face of literally every authority figure in the building except you? who can’t concentrate and stay still in one spot for more than five minutes? all of your other classes behave! they listen! they sit down and shut up and do the packets! so what fucking gives!!!

so you say “fine, since you all HATE ME so much i just won’t teach then!!!” on literally week fucking ten of teaching. and instead of prostrating themselves before you, begging you to like... point at transparencies and read directly from powerpoints i guess.

and they all collectively say “okay” and let the chipmunk child flutter between desks and help them memorize formulas and mnemonic devices and shit. surely her grades will suffer if she’s constantly dealing with other people and you’ll have justification that her horseshit is “distracting” and “a detriment to her studies”. she got bored gave up on that after two days after nothing changed.

then we did the midterm.

except at the end of the exam packet was something we never learned because again, she was going through the book chronologically. because i actually enjoyed the chem book (so much that i stole it when the year was up lmao), i knew the material.

it was about lewis dots/structures. i couldn’t tell you a damn thing about it today but in december 2010 i absolutely knew that shit. i didnt have too much of a problem with it in the exam, but the students who had gotten to that point were complaining and at first she pulled that “you should have been studying independently uwu” shit but the class was about to get loud during exam period so she shushed us and said that when we get to that point, just stop, and she’ll mark it correct during grading, no harm no foul just keep it quiet. one of the more confrontational students called horseshit and said theres no way we’re trusting that and there’s definitely no way anyone will keep an entire classroom cheating at the instruction of the teacher quiet.

i offered to teach it.

she scoffed, rolled eyes, said “sure fine but you can’t get your exam back” and i said “okay.” so when everyone was to the point in the exam, we piled them all on her desk and i used the whiteboard to briefly and quietly explain lewis dots, used the book examples and problems, and helped the other kids understand. there were a couple exam questions that were lifted straight from the book problems so i skipped those. while teaching i realized i had gotten a couple wrong which sucked :( it was an incredibly stupid experience overall, and no teacher worth the paper their certification is printed on would have allowed that to happen. and fucking yet.

anyways everyone but me got their exams back and finished it and many of us passed, only a few of them did particularly well.

discussing the chem exam with friends who also took the chem exam, many students found their anecdote about the lewis dots to be confounding, for you see, the exam we took was not, in fact, the midterm, but the god damned final.

she had us taking the fucking final because she didnt read the fucking folders which read “midterm” and “final exam” on them

she was reprimanded severely and we all had to take the exam on different days, in different classrooms, sitting very far apart. after that she hated me even more. like girl it was your fault lmao i am literally a teenager grow up lol. anyways you can imagine how much more fucking insufferable i became, knowing how miserable she was.

it all came to a head in february when some students were giggling quietly following a minor fuck up on her part regarding bellwork. they were making fun of her like “are you sure thats not tomorrows bellwork lol” and a friend next to me did the “hey i need help wait no miss not you sorry” thing and when i answered him, she solidly snapped. blah blah YOURE SOOOO DISTRACTING blah blah YOU THINK YOURE SOOOO SMART DONT YOU blah blah blah and she was like demanding i leave the room and shouting at the top of her lungs at me “ YOU POISON THE MINDS OF EVERY OTHER STUDENT HERE. YOU’RE POISONOUS VICTORIA, YOU’RE A VIRUS IN THIS CLASSROOM.”

i will never forget that line as long as i live. it was like crack to me. i moved to open the door to leave and the vp opened it first. he escorted me to the office and asked me what happened, then told me to keep my head down in class from now on, and that if i wanted to help my friends i should give them my number and help them out on our own time. i was like “bro thats really stupid” and he was like “thats all we can do right now but i promise we’re working on it”

i lasted the rest of the year giving smug smiles as we did packet after fucking packet for the rest of the year. they were all take-home work. i wasnt comfy giving my number to my enemies. the class camaraderie ended.

the final was altered. my class took a different final than the rest of the normal chem classes.

i started 12th grade and got a solid case of senioritis. i told that story to anyone who would listen. while it was happening, i obviously told my favorite teacher everything as it happened. when i mentioned it senior year he was like “oh yeah i forgot about her,

she was fired over the summer.”

[atinytokki]

Paradise

iv. The Pearl in the Oyster  

By the time San was seated in the boat with the wind on his face and the shores of his town on the horizon, he had overcome his shock at discovering a secret pirate refuge.

Jiyong and Mr. Shim had fussed over him and grilled him with questions after he was rescued, but from a combination of the fact that he wasn’t sure whether he had imagined the whole ordeal and the fact that he was terrified, he hadn’t given them much information.

“Please don’t tell my grandparents,” he suddenly begged as the Namhae docks came into view.

“San, you were lost in the caves for nearly an hour,” Mr. Shim argued as he adjusted the sails. “It would be irresponsible of me not to tell them.”

“But I’m not hurt!” San argued back, getting to his feet and swaying slightly with the momentum of the boat. “And they’ll only be angry at me for running away!”

Mr. Shim frowned at him, but he didn’t scold him again, so San took it as a sign to continue.

“Didn’t you ever wander off as a boy? You wouldn’t have wanted your parents to know, would you?”

“I did have my mischievous days,” the man admitted. “But I matured and stayed away from dangerous places until I could handle myself.”

He delivered this last line with a pointed glance, one that told San if he could shape up, he would be off the hook.

A smile grew on his face and he nodded eagerly.

“Alright,” Mr. Shim chuckled. “I was young once too, wasn’t I?”

San greeted the now familiar shores of his island with relief and helped to unload the boat until his grandparents appeared at the docks to collect him.

The old sailor reported that they had enjoyed a refreshing and uneventful time in the markets of Dalhae, true to his word. San waved goodbye to the two and flopped around in the back of the cart on the ride home.

Warm food in his belly and a gentle breeze  blowing through his window, San told Haneul of his adventures and organised her shells into a small wooden chest until Grandmother poked her head in and told them to go to bed.

Even as he stared into the fireplace and tried to fall asleep, the eyes of the pirate lingered in the back of his mind. 

Supposing San had gotten all the adventure that he needed, Grandfather put him to work in the carpentry shop the next morning and even more frequently after.

When he was out of the room, busy selling his wares in town, or asleep at the desk, San took it as an opportunity to stretch his sore leg and practice fighting invisible pirates in the carpentry shop unsupervised.

Of course, this resulted in the destruction of some of the carving displays and plank storage, so Grandfather passed him off to Grandmother while he cleaned up after him, and San was subject to quiet reading and a picnic on the beach for the afternoon.

For a boy with an active imagination, San’s life had become rather boring. Unless it was about pirates, it wasn’t interesting enough, so Grandmother in her indulgence gifted him a few naval history books in the hopes that he would be satiated. 

He was unsuccessful in discovering the identities of the pirates in the caves no matter how hard he researched, especially when all he had to go on was the fact that one had been sporting a peg leg (apparently a common occurrence among pirates) and the other had seemed... young. 

San had all but given up hope when one rainy day in late autumn, the familiar tapping sound of a peg leg resounded from the front path. 

His head shot up from where he had been in deep focus at his little desk, whittling a wooden ship (that Grandfather had discouraged, and didn’t need to know about) and he counted two seconds before the jangle of the bell rung out and the customer was on the doorstep, silhouetted by dripping rain that blinked silver in the lightning flash.

Suddenly, the stranger stepped closer and just like that, the fantasy was shattered. San didn’t recognise this man from the caves.

“Wh-Who are you?” He croaked out weakly, standing from his chair and watching the peg leg man intently. Pirate or no pirate, San was ready to defend the house from him if need be.

The man frowned and closed the door behind him, adjusting his satchel with an unreadable look in his eye. “I was informed you’d be expecting me.”

If they were expecting him, San wasn’t aware of the fact. It had only been three days since the magistrate had been over for dinner, and San’s grandparents didn’t invite guests that frequently. 

“Who are you, exactly?” He asked, trying to be polite, catching himself with a late bow.

“Oh, hello Dr. Hong!” 

Right on cue, Grandfather rushed out from the back room and came to shake hands with the man, whose large bag made a lot more sense now. 

A doctor.

San didn’t like doctors.

“I hope San didn’t let you stand out in the rain,” Grandfather was saying with a pointed glance that told San he was in trouble if he had.

“No, not at all,” Dr. Hong laughed as he was helped out of his coat. “The lad seemed wary, but I can see why.”

The doctor tapped his peg leg on the rug and San blushed at being called out. “I’ll tell you how I got it if you ask,” the man continued with a bright smile. “But first, I have a patient to attend to!”

Grandfather and the doctor hurried upstairs and left San to his own devices, wondering why a doctor had been called and quieting his intense curiosity about the peg leg as it began to grow again.

He finished the masts by the time Dr. Hong returned to the shop. Sensing the boy’s nervousness, the doctor quickly reassured him his visit was only a routine checkup.

“Haneul is doing well, all things considered,” he told him softly. “Though, you must always protect her and keep her healthy.”

San agreed in a heartbeat, not too naïve to forget why he was here on Namhae in the first place. 

Everything was for Haneul.

“Ah, yes, the leg,” the guest remembered just before leaving. 

San perked up and scooted closer to hear the tale. 

“It was back in my Navy days, before I picked up medicine,” he explained. “I was a gunner on one of those cargo transport ships, the Royal Longtail, back when the East Colonies were just starting out and the trade routes were being established. We were attacked by pirates on the trip back and I, an inexperienced soldier, was shot in the leg and carted to the infirmary for the rest of the battle. I thought for a few harrowing moments that I was on the brink of death, but somehow I was saved.”

“How?” San nearly burst out, leaning on the edge of his seat.

Dr. Hong displayed his peg leg again. “The surgeon chopped off my leg just above the knee and managed to stop the bleeding. That miracle— the one that saved my life— convinced me to switch to the field of surgery. It’s quite new and underdeveloped but as you can see, real results are happening!”

San smiled at the satisfying conclusion of the story and bid the doctor farewell.

He still didn’t like them as a rule, but he could make an exception for this one.  

Haneul claimed to be doing fine when San brought the evening meal up to her bedroom where she lay staring at the ceiling, but her skin was pale and clammy and from the way she was breathing he could tell she was anxious about something.

“Do you... want me to sit with you?” He asked timidly, unsure how to help once he’d set the plate on her bedside table and closed the window to shut out the breeze.

“No, just leave me alone,” his half-sister muttered, rolling over to face the wall and leaving San hurt and confused.

Without another word, he crept away and into his own room, tucking himself into bed. He knew not to take it personally, that sometimes she just got into moods like this when she was discouraged about her illness.

But it made San worry that the doctor hadn’t in fact told him everything.

Haneul appeared at breakfast but refused to play with him when he returned from school, in the few hours San had before he would be herded back into the carpentry shop.

It was disappointing but San took it as an opportunity to look for new friends, something he hadn’t put much effort into since arriving.

There were a couple of teenage girls with a five year old brother playing further down the beach on the rocks, the opposite way as Mr. Shim’s house, so San strolled over and introduced himself.

“I haven’t seen you before,” he admitted shyly. “Do you usually play further up the beach?”

“Yes,” the older of the two explained. “But today we’ve come here because of the construction.”

“Construction?” San asked, confused.

The girl pointed past the rooftops to the harbour where the masts craned like birds flocking along the shoreline. “The naval garrison. They’re finally building it.”

“It’s loud!” The little boy whined, crying when a particularly large swell washed him face-down into the sand. 

San giggled and helped him up, seamlessly joining in their hunt for oysters while they told him what the garrison in town was going to look like.

He couldn’t help but glance over the hill and wonder what it would mean for Namhae. The more Navy presence, the less likely pirates would appear. And the less likely the two from the Dalhae caves would appear.

As San cracked open an oyster and, to his amazement, found a lucky pearl, he decided maybe it was for the better.

He’d had his adventure- enough adventure for a lifetime. 

...

A/N:  Guess who finished her semester!!!!! It was a rough one tbh but now I can write unhindered so expect more from me soon, but in the meantime don't forget to rb and comment <3

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[titsthedamnseason]

If you haven't done it already can you do headcanons about Julian's birthday?

bitch you know it asdfghj and by some miracle ive actually gotten these done before the two weeks that could potentially be his birthday are over so happy birthday julian!!

julian has never really had a big birthday celebration before

of course emma and the kids and diana always got him gifts and spoiled him

you know, doing chores for him, letting him relax for a day, stuff like that

but poor julian is a worrier so he’d always end up insisting to help anyway, saying that he wanted to

he even would always make the cake since no one else could

it wasnt until later that everyone realized that every time they had tried to spoil julian on his birthday, he turned it around on them, and he wound up doing most of the work

they are determined to make his 18th birthday different

helen and aline are more than capable of holding down the fort now

plus julian and emma take a break from their travel year for the holidays and are in the institute for julian’s birthday

which could be anytime from jan 1-15 but my personal hc is that it’s on new years day (wink wink)

so anyway julian and emma will be in la for his bday and julian is a lot more carefree this year so everyone is highkey determined to give him the best birthday this year

nobody wakes him up early, and after staying up so late the night before his normal internal clock doesnt wake him up as usual

at 12am everyone else shouted “happy new year!” and emma shouted “happy birthday julian!”

anyway when julian does wake up, later than usual, his first instinct is to shoot out of bed and get the kids breakfast but he takes a moment to himself to revel in the fact that this is his first birthday spent waking up next to emma as her boyfriend

emma seizes her moment and convinces him to stay for just a while longer, im sure the kids are fine, helen and aline have been taking care of them for months

julian gives her like five minutes of kisses and cuddles before beelining for the kitchen

he finds that everyone else has already been up for an hour or so and has already eaten breakfast

the second he enters the kitchen everyone yells “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and he is bombarded with hugs and drawings and cards and stupid gag gifts from the kids that he accepts with a smile cristina and mark both hug him as well and he’s pleasantly surprised to see them

(if you read my tda holiday hcs i made them leave before this point but awsxdcfvgyh they come back to surprise him)

he grabs a plate for himself reluctantly, wont stop apologizing to helen and aline that he overslept

they keep telling him they dont care but, surprise surprise, he’s not listening

when julian goes back to his room to get dressed he finds emma already ready with his favorite blue dress of her’s on and holding a present for him

his reaction is “oh that reminds me” and he pulls out another gift from under the dresser

emma is like ????? and julian is like “…for you” and emma is still like ????? so then julian explains “i got you a new year’s gift too”

emma is like fuck that shit this is a birthday gift asdfgyhu “who the fuck buys new year’s presents” “i dont know i love you” “i love you too but what the fuck julian now i look bad” “you couldnt look bad if you were trying”

anyway after emma gets it through julian’s head that he does deserve a birthday gift and no, she refuses to open up his gift to her on his birthday, nice try, julian, he opens it up

it’s a new blue shirt that almost exactly matches emma’s dress which is “an unfortunate coincidence”

he cant stop telling her it’s too much, you shouldnt have, and emma is like hoe you think im done??? think again

but actually she doesnt say that, she just says youre welcome asdfghyuj

anyway

they go meet everyone in their matching outfits and they all just hang around a bit, there isnt much else julian could ask for than to be with his family

but at lunch emma surprises julian with a picnic for the two of them at the beach

she promises that she didnt touch the food, she had aline make it all asdfrghy

once they finish emma gives julian more presents(“this is a prank right?” “am i laughing? actually i am but not because this is a prank, please just open the presents” ) 

the first is a whole set of paints and brushes and other art supplies i know nothing about, all custom made, the brushes with inscriptions on the handles( “jb” “as long as you exist and i exist i will love you” “i love you more than starlight”)

julian: where did you get that last quote from?

emma: i thought of it

julian: *melts*

he asks how she knew what supplies to get him and she told him how she saw him looking at all this stuff back in that shop in london and went back to get it for him

he’s so touched

he is already certifiably not okay™️ because the whole day has been against everything he’s ever known and he feels weird, he just wants to give something to someone, literally anyone

julian is so happy and when emma pulls out an envelope he has to bite his tongue to keep from saying “oh no not again”

emma just gives him a look when she sees him holding back asdfgbhgt

he’s preparing himself for some sort of long sentimental card from her that will probably make him cry but what he gets is worse

it’s just a piece of paper that says “im having so much fun on our date right now, but id love it even more if you came with me to the louvre to our next one”

julian is shooketh to a level beyond all levels

he cant imagine why emma looks so worried he wont like it

they laugh and hug and then proceed to kiss a lot before going back to the institute 

julian is ready to just chill now 

he comes in and there are decorations filling the entryway

a million balloons, streamers, banners

he looks at emma who just shrugs but she’s smiling so big and has a knowing look on her face 

there’s a beautifully decorated poster next to the staircase that says “TAKE ONE” and there’s a party hat for emma and a ridiculous crown for julian that says “it’s my birthday!” under it

they follow a trail of posters with arrows on them to the living room(im pretty sure they dont call it that but the room with the computer in it is where they always hang out so that’s what i mean awsedfvgbh)

everyone yells “SURPRISE” when they walk in and julian is sure he’s in a permanent state of shock

like yes he just followed an entire trail of arrows to get here but it’s still so much more than he expected

they eat pizza and play music and all just hang out and it’s a fun time

at one point julian goes to adjust his crown but everyone thought he was taking it off and yelled at him aesdxcfvgbh

they play stupid party games like pin the tail on the donkey(which theyre all good at since theyre shadowhunters asdfghjui) and charades and stuff like that

everyone gives julian more presents and he thinks he might combust

they sing to him and have cake

they give him one more gift after they sing and it’s a photo album of julian and his siblings and emma through the years

there are ones of baby emma and jules playing to 12 year old julian intently speaking to ty and livvy to 14 year old julian reading with tavvy to 17 year old julian laughing with dru to ones with helen, mark, aline, and cristina in them and ones from the travel year and julian is amazed

he’s so touched and he’s proud that he only cries a little

a little after that everyone starts getting tired since they stayed up until midnight the night before

diana goes home, tavvy goes to bed, followed by dru and ty shortly after

when julian hugs ty on his way out he almost feels like livvy is there too, and he doesnt understand why ty goes pale when julian tells him, julian worries he shouldnt have said anything before ty just smiles and says “good” before walking out

everyone else goes to bed shortly after

julian and emma are laying in julian’s bed when she pulls out a card for him, but tells him it’s nothing special

he opens it and begs to differ

the front of the card says “so many ways to say i love you” and she has filled the inside with ways she said it over the years

“protecting you in fights”

“i’ll put the kids to bed tonight”

“i would do anything for you, jules”

“we’re parabatai, we can do this”(julian doesnt like this one)

“take a break”

“please stay”

“i need you”

“your hair is a mess”(“really emma? “shut up”)

the list goes on until it ends with “i love you. love, emma”

they are both crying at the end

“i love you so much, emma”

“i love you, t––”

she doesnt get to finish

they have more important things to get to and, needless to say, they dont get much sleep that night either

[rhapsody-in-heaven]

The Diary of Losing You

Day One

I cant believe it, never did we ever talk about breaking up before this .. and now all of a sudden its happening. I cant process it. I cant accept it. Sure, we’ve had fights but I never felt like they were toxic. We never got to that point - we weren’t even close to that point. Was I too stubborn? Did you not like that? Because no matter how much I begged and bargained - you kept telling me, it was over. That you didnt have to explain things to me but you were doing it out of courtesy. But its hard to accept - not only because it was so sudden but because you told me you still liked me - and god knows, i still like you. You told me, you couldnt change and you knew that about yourself and honestly, I kind of admire that. I havent had a lot of boyfriends but the first one I had to accept cuz he stopped liking me - the other two were long over by the time we broke up - there was resentment in our relationship but we didnt know how to let go - so we kept holding on - even when it got so toxic and even when it was obvious we were much better off without each other. But its still hard. Why don’t you think we’re worth a second chance. i didnt even think it was so bad that it needed to be classified as a second chance - just that we were still trying to figure out the kinks with the first one. Even when I told you that if the same situation happens even one more time, you could break up w me - even if it was two weeks later - i wouldnt complain. But you told me that in that case you would just break up with me two weeks later because for you, the relationship was already over. You didnt think we were worth a second chance and that hurts a lot.  I spent hours begging you to reconsider - knowing that you wouldnt - but i still had to try. and then I spent hours after talking to two friends and crying my heart out to them. all i could think about was all the plans we made that would no longer come to pass. I questioned myself if I was missing the thing wed do together or miss you and yeah at that time i was grieving our breakup but grieving more the things that would no longer come to pass. Im used to seeing you once every three weeks but three weeks werent up yet and it still felt relatively normal i guess. but the fact that I also knew the sadness would hit when the three weeks were up also scared me.  sleep was my solace - when i sleep, i dont need to think anymore.  Day Two teaching as usual but then in the times i didnt have to actively teach - i could feel the tears forming in my eyes but its okay, i dont think anyone noticed. but then we had a break between classes and i started to talk to another friend and then i couldnt stop crying. crying so loud that my coteacher heard it and asked what was wrong, and of course needing to explain things out loud with my voice made it that much worse. I could pull myself together for when i was actually teaching the class but - i still miss everything about you. I had my sixth grade class and I was so happy. They were my worst class last year but they did so well on this exercise we thought they would have trouble with - and they did, but with some help they managed to finish, and they did well. The first person i wanted to talk to was you. I felt like all i ever did was complain in our relationship I really wanted to give you the good news. And you were nice enough that you listened to me, and told me that even before, just hearing from me was good news. and that felt incredibly bittersweet. before leaving school my coteacher told me to feel better but all i could think was that i missed you. I had dinner plans that night but they got cancelled - I called my cousin and he talked to me for hours just listening to me cry - and then talk about life - and listening to me cry again. He told me that you probably didnt like the way we communicated and decided to end it before it gets harder later on. I can respect that I said, but its too soon to call it quits - we never even tried. To him, I just wasnt worth trying.  Day Three teaching kept me busy for most of the morning - i didnt have much time to think about you. but after lunch, the sadness began to manifest itself again. I dont think anyone noticed, or maybe they pretended not to. but I started to think back on the times before you moved away. Before we were long distance or even a couple. How you were so good to me. How you made me food. How you stayed with me when i was sad and i just have so many regrets I wasnt adquately able to tell you how i felt about you. How i was constantly unsure about myself but how when you did ask me out, you told me that it was okay that i didnt know - it was okay if i was never able to say i love you because you could feel that saying “love” signified a very strong emotion for me that i wasnt sure i ever felt before, and even with just me saying “like” you knew and could tell that my feelings for you were really deep. Why is it that you miss them so much more when theyre gone? Why do i feel like I shouldve treated you better i shouldve done more and thought of you more and expressed my feelings to you better. but hindsight is always 20/20. I went to pole and then to see my friends at night. we went to karaoke and at this point only one of the two friends knows because i didnt wanna ruin the birthday celebrations coming up of the one who didnt know. Well we were singing “payphone” and she said that we were singing it like someone had broken our hearts and all i could do was pretend to laugh. For the record, I dont think u broke my heart. or i dont blame you. i just wish things ended differently - i wish we were worth another shot in your mind. But all of this, is just wishful thinking. And i know that.

Day Four

its the weekend, and the day we celebrate her birthday. its a rainy day and somehow every little thing reminds me of you. I havent felt like this after a break up in a long time - im not sure if ive ever felt like this after a break up at all. My last two were long over before we ended things and the one before that was the definition of puppy love - sure i thought about him, and maybe its because its been so long but i dont remember every little thing reminding me of him. The rain reminds me of you. I saw a couple walking under an umbrella and remembered that you bought this hella big and expensive umbrella so that we could share it together in the rain. when I was at the aquarium all i could think about was how nice it would be if i was there with you. I saw a boat and i could just think about your job and how youre a shipbuilding engineer. Even looking at myself in the mirror, i thought about how you bought a jean jacket so we could match. I thought about the white tennis shoes we wanted to buy so we could match together when a friend mentioned she needed new white shoes. I thought of all the cute little cafes you took me to when we went to eat a cafe. my friend said she wanted to go to a marsh she saw in my photos - the very same one you took me to. we went to a coin karaoke place and the first time i ever went to one was with you. and sometimes i didnt need a reminder - my mind would just wander and i would remember things i didnt even know I remembered. the time when we fought about women in the workforce and your industry in the cafe and at the car. how when i asked if you were still mad at me you said that you wish you said “oh maybe i am a little bit, but ill make a lot of money and buy u a nice purse” to defuse the situation instead of getting mad. How our very first date lasted two nights and three days. How you couldnt spend my birthday w me but spent valentines w me the next day. The night you asked me to be your girlfriend - and how scared but also how happy i was. How you always took me to so many places. How i always could complain to you and you would always listen w patience - how i just wanted you back - how i wanted you to hold me and tell me it was a mistake - that you didnt really wanna break up w me that you thought about it and you wanna try again.  but i also know, its wishful thinking and i know, that you wont come back to me.  Day Five No plans. it’s still raining. No reason to go out. Can’t find the will to clean my apartment thats getting messier and dirtier by the day. I just want to lie in bed. I’ve been swiping on tinder and talking to some ppl - not to find a rebound but just to talk to people - to feel less - lonely? dejected? idk. but it doesnt really work - it feels like a lot of effort that I cant give. Were conversations always this hard? i feel like ours were so easy. And then i start to think again. all the promises we made. You said you would still try to be friends with me. Can we still do the little things? even before we went out you said u would take me skiing in the winter - is that still on? you told me you would buy me a hanbok - how about that? will you still take me? I keep asking why its over for you. why another chance will never happen. but the whole day, i just lie in bed. I cant bring myself to do anything. I keep searching up things like how long it should take to get over you - but at the same time im not sure i want to. Its not over for me yet even if its over for you. I guess, im feeling all the beginning stages of grief at once. Shock and Denial - i know its over - my head knows it - my head knows that you wont take me back or give us another go but my heart still has that false hope. my heart doesnt want to give you up. Guilt and Pain - well the pain is self explanatory but the guilt - i just keep wondering if this was my fault. if I was too unwilling to change - or didnt know i needed to change until i realized u were serious when you said you were thinking of breaking up w me - if i never said “how about we just never talk again” in anger and sadness, would we have gotten to this point? Anger and Bargaining - im not really angry - i mean i dont think this was your fault or mine but i guess i am kind of upset at the fact that you dont think we’re worth a second shot. anything we argued about, even if it spanned across a couple of days, has never come up again. and this was the first time this particular issue came up so why could we both make steps and amends to keep this from happening. are we both too stubborn? but i was willing and it felt like you werent. you told me that even ur past gfs have said that sometimes they didnt feel like they really had a choice and it wasnt just me. so im assuming that this is something youre eventually going to have to fix for yourself or you find a girl whos okay with that - but you also said you didnt want a gf or a wife that was like a doll who just agreed w everything you said. so this just means to me that youre not willing to try and change. honestly, if youre aware of it, it shouldnt be a hard fix but you already made up your mind that you werent going to do it. in reality i just wasnt the one you were willing to make those steps towards. and that is where my sadness and anger come from. now bargaining - im really willing to make changes and kind of the biggest testament i can give to that is that if we could be together again, i could quit that game ive been playing for 2 years cold turkey. For whatever reason, you never liked me playing that game and if it means i could have you back, i would gladly get rid of it. as for the other things - i promise i wont pressure to be with you longer cuz i know your tired - now i know youre tired. because you never told me before. Im sorry i dont like to lose arguments and i get defensive - i know i need to communicate better too. but i just really miss you and it kills me that we never even gave it a chance. yes, maybe youre right and things wont change and i know you think youre doing me a favour by ending this sooner rather than later but it kills me more that we never tried. Depression Loneliness and Reflection - self explanatory maybe im not fully in this stage yet but I do realize that the bargaining is not going to work even if i hope that it would.  it isnt over to me and to be honest, im not sure i want to get over you yet, even tho i know i should. Day Six

a monday. i asked you yesterday if we could talk and you said you were busy. I’m sure even tho i know your answer, i will ask you today if you would reconsider. im sorry if this puts pressure on you but i think its also necessary that i know I at least tried for my own sanity instead of letting this go. I’m going to tell you everything ive been thinking the last several days just to get it out. and yes, there is still that false hope that you’ll take me back and when that’s crushed i will probably inevitably cry again. I’m not sure if talking to you so soon is the right answer, if later would give me a clearer head. but my heart is telling me that i need to ask you to reconsider now and not later - if only for the confirmation - that nail on the coffin, that we’re really not happening anymore. I asked you when you had time and you said 10pm. So after work, i go home and i write down everything i want to talk to you about - at least everything i can think of at the time of writing much of which i talked about here already - how i thank you for loving me and all the things you did for me, how i still hope youll keep ur promise about buying me a hanbok, about a possible snowboard trip, about my stages of grief - my denial, my anger, the bargaining, how it wasnt just you who needed to change but i do think you will eventually need to change for someone - that i was sad it wasnt me. how i wish you told me about the stresses of your job so id be more understanding, how you were the first guy i thought i could say i love you to. how im not good at this cuz my last two and only serious relationships ended long before we called it off but right now i still feel like i was starting to like you more and more. how u know to break it off now because it would hurt more for me later and you no longer wanted to see me cry but for me second chances and trying is important - which is why im bargaining with you even tho i know you will say no. i need to know i did everything I could. that im sad we didnt meet earlier and have a more stable realtionship and maybe it woulda worked out - that i was sad you had to move for your job because if you were still here things wouldve worked out differently. but i dunno - i hope youll listen with as open a mind as u can, really think about it before you reject me and ill know i did everything i could. 

[ironbvnes]

- ̗̀ TASK 002. — AMELIA & FAMILY

i. as a young girl, amelia was practically attached at the hip to leonora. when she’d leave for work, amelia would cry for hours on end, unable to be consoled by her nanny until her mum came back. she’d follow her around the house, tugging on her skirt as she practically begged her to give her even the smallest ounce of attention. her favorite part of the day was always when leonora would tuck her into bed at night and read her a bedtime story. the interaction made her feel so incredibly special, especially before imogen was born because it was the closest she’s ever been to her mother. when she graduated from hogwarts, her mother gave her the most treasured gift she’d ever received. it was an opal necklace, set in gold, that her mother had worn since the day amelia was born. now, there’s never a moment where you won’t see it worn around her neck. she uses it as a way to keep her mother close to her, even when she’s so far away. 

ii. almost every summer night after edgar and imogen went to bed, amelia would slip into her father’s study. the walls of his study were filled with books and as a young girl, amelia vowed she would read all of them one day ( at twenty six, she hasn’t even made it through half of them yet ). sometimes she would just bring her own book and they would read in silence. but when they didn’t, lewis would often take the opportunity to teach her a lesson, or in other words, spread some of his wisdom to his eldest daughter. even though she was too young to really understand what he was saying, his words still stuck with her. after all, her father was the one who really instilled her ambition and hard work ethic into her. these conversations, lit by the dim glow of a lamp, quickly became the highlight of her summers she spent at home. as the years progressed, it became sort of a tradition — a way for them to relate to one another while amelia struggled with growing up and coming into her own. if everything was going downhill, she knew she always had a safe place to go to. and she still does.

iii. even though amelia lives alone now, her two-story townhouse used to belong to her grandparents before they passed. it was gifted to her after she graduated from the auror training academy, the same time she coincidentally needed a new place to live. even though she’s lived there for nearly five years,  she can still easily recall the many weeks she’d spent there in the summers, surrounded by aunts and uncles and cousins. the house wasn’t large by any means, but somehow they all fit ( with the help of a few charms, of course ). she spent so many nights in the backyard with her cousins, catching fireflies and stargazing until their parents practically had to drag them inside for the night. amelia wouldn’t consider herself to be close with her extended family anymore, but those summers were some of the happiest of her life. perhaps because it was the last time she was truly carefree. the little family reunions stopped after amelia turned fifteen, around the time she began to fully dedicate herself to school and nothing else. 

iv. when amelia found out she was going to be a big sister, she was overjoyed. she’d always wanted a younger sibling, so to realize her dream came true was the best news to little six year old amelia. of course, she had to plan everything out with her handy little charts and schedules, including her various opinions on random topics  ( i.e what color imogen’s nursery should be painted — she argued purple , what stuffed animals to get, etc ). she was so excited the day their father took edgar and amelia to visit gen after she’d been born, ecstatic at the thought of being a big sister ( finally she wasn’t the youngest ! ). from that day on she was constantly trying to take care of imogen, always offering her to feed her or play with her. she’d spend countless hours at her sister’s side, talking and laughing the time away. it was then she began to craft this “image” of the perfect big sister, one that she’s tried so hard to fulfill throughout the years, though it’s gotten worse in the later years. all she wants to be is the sister imogen deserves, but she’s trying too hard and her love for her sister is being translated the wrong way. one day she’ll get it right.

v. amelia and edgar have always been inseparable. there was never a monumental moment in amelia’s life where edgar wasn’t standing right beside her. as kids, they were always on the same page, quick to finish each other’s sentences and read each other’s emotions. nothing has changed now that they’re adults, in fact their “twin senses” have only gotten stronger. there’s not a day that passes where amelia doesn’t seek edgar out at work. she lowkey has a lot of separation anxiety, so she always makes a point to purposefully visit her brother during the day. and if they don’t have time during the work day, she invites herself over to his flat, or vice versa. there’s no one who understands her better than her twin and after living in a world where she is often so misunderstood, it’s necessary for her to spend time with someone who she can truly be herself with. he has been, and continues to be, her favorite person in the whole entire world. 

[petersspidey]

Road Trip

Request: YESS MY DUDE PLS WRITE A ROAD TRIP FANFIC I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER!!!!

A/N: Ahhhhh, this is a marvellous idea and lmaoooo I'm actually writing this on the plane ride home. I was only delayed for two hours sitting on the tarmac and then a nine hour flight home!!! Let’s just say, it’s been a long day. And tbh I literally would never write this on a plane (usually) but I got lucky and there’s nobody sitting on either side of me or behind me WOW so here I am, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean (actually I'm probably over France rn) writing about you guys and fucking Peter Parker.

I also decided to try and do this a different way, its one of those Headcanon posts instead

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: nada

Masterlist

The lovely Peter Parker and yourself had been best friends for quite sometime and boy were you both pining over each other. Extremely pining.

It was a lot of almost but not completely’s. Which annoyed the hell out of you. But I mean, Peter also annoyed the hell out of you.

You loved the boy, but he was needy. (Lol you love it).

You had just finished your third year of high school when you and Peter decided that you needed to go on a road trip.

Meaning that Peter begged you to take a road trip with him. By then, he had passed his driver’s test and was ready to go on the road.

In the middle of July, you and Peter climbed into May’s car and began making your way to Niagara Falls.

It was seven in the morning and Peter had pulled up in front of your building in May’s car.

Peter jumped out and grabbed your bag and threw it into the trunk, rushing back around to open the car door for you. “Good morning, Y/N,” 

“Well it looks like someone is in a good mood,” 

“Of course I'm in a good mood, i’m excited! Aren’t you excited? We’re finally going on the road trip!” 

“Yes, Peter, I’m very excited,” you laughed. 

“Ive never been Niagara Falls, what do you think it’s like? And how long until we get there? You know I'm not good on long drives,” 

“Oh my god, Peter. Okay, Niagara Falls is very nice, you’ll love it. It’s about six and a half hours but because we’ll get caught in rush hour it’ll probably be closer to eight,” you answered.

“Then let’s go,” Peter smiled, putting the car into drive, heading towards the highway.

You were not at all surprised how simultaneously prepared and unprepared Peter was for this trip.

The boy had multiple road trip playlists and a few sugary treats but that was it. You of course were the one who thought to bring water, healthier snacks, tissues, etc.

Ten minutes into the trip he started diving into his snacks

“PeTeR ItS sEvEn In ThE mOrNiNg you don’t need a fruit roll up!” 

“But Y/N, Spiderman needs his nutrients,” 

“A fRuIt RoLl Up Is NoT nUtRiCiOuS,”

Peter just looked you right in the eye and took another bite of the fruit roll up causing you to lose your fucking marbles

THis boy was going to drive you insane for the next eight hours you just knew it

“Peter why don’t you just put on one of the CD’s you made instead of just singing?” 

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t like my singing?” 

“Peter Parker but put your CD on and sing along to that,”

“Will you sing with me?” 

“I don’t know? Is ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ on this playlist of yours?” 

“OH NO!”

“Peter did you actually forget the ultimate road trip song?” 

“Yes. But I can sing it for you,”

You acted annoyed with Peter but less than a minute later you were both singing at the top of your lungs

You pretended to be annoyed with Peter but you really loved him and you were actually having the time of your life

Eventually Peter turned on that playlist of his 

Turns out Don’t Stop Believing was on it

“Oh my god PEter you idiot,” 

“I FoRgOt,”

You and Peter were both idiots who were helplessly in love with each other but didn’t know

You would spend so much time just staring at the boy while he tried to focus on driving

Plot twist he knew you were looking at him

His CHEEKS TURNED BRIGHT RED EVERY TIME

You thought it was the cutest  

You were still singing along loudly to the music.

You would record it and send snaps to Ned saying you missed him  

Ned would always respond with “Bullshit you two need this time to figure everything out,”  

You tried to ask PEter what Ned meant but before Peter could answer he got distracted by a sign that said ‘Niagara Falls 350 miles’

“Peter, that’s still like five hours” 

“BuT wErE gETTING CLOSE” 

“Whatever you say, hon”

You wanting to pull over on the side of the highway to take pictures of all the scenery

“Y/N, we’re never going to make it in time if we don’t keep driving,” 

“In time for what?” 

“Just WE WON’T MAKE IT IN TIME,” 

“But Peter I want to take a picture of you next to that tree,” 

“Y/N,” 

“Peter Parker If you don’t go stand next to that tree so I can take your picture, no more fruit roll ups,” 

“But how will I survive and not starve?” 

“I have apples,” 

Peter still didn’t move

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” 

“Fine!” 

“Thank you! I love you!” 

“Yeah yeah, love you too,” he would mumble,

The picture of Peter turned out with him standing next to the tree with his arms crossed and huge pout on his face

“Peter can you please smile for me?” 

“Why would I smile after you threatened to take away my fruit roll ups?” 

“Because I want to remember this trip! Please, can you just smile for me?”

You know how Peter’s puppy dog eyes are irresistible? Anything you do is irresistible to him.

THIS BOY IS SO WHIPPED FOR YOU, YOU SIMPLY FROWN AND HES DOING EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER

And boy you knew it too

So you frown and Peter loosens his shoulders and lets his arms fall

“No Y/N IM SORRY DON’T BE SAD YES I’LL SMILE,”

You got another picture of Peter with a big smile on his face, pointing at the tree.

“Can we get going now WE HAVE A SCHEDULE” 

“Why is this the first I'm hearing about this schedule?” 

“BEcuase it’s a surprise now get in the car,”

You both climb back In the car and set off again

“Y/N LOOK ONLY 250 MILES NOW” 

“Peter that still three and a half hours,” 

“BUT WE’RE EVEN CLOSER”

At one point you pull off the highway into a small town to get gas

The windows were rolled down and you began sneezing like crazy

“Thank you,” 

“What?” You asked Peter in between sneezes 

“I MEAN BLESS YOU” 

You were hunched over in the passenger seat, laughing your ass off in between your wild sneezes

“Can you please roll up the window Peter clearly I'm allergic to something” 

“fUCK YES SORRY”

When you stopped for gas you wanted to get out and take pictures but you knew you would just sneeze and not get any good pictures so you stayed in the car and took pictures of Peter pumping the gas without him noticing

This boy is so fucking gorgeous and the pictures turned out rather amazing despite how dirty the windows were

AND OF ALL THINGS TO TURN YOU ON PETER PUMPING GAS INTO THE CAR WAS APPARENTLY ONE OF THEM

When Peter got back in the car you were just staring at him

“What?” Peter eventually asked, confused by your staring

“Nothing. You’re just pretty is all,”

YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN PETER’S CHEEKS THAT RED

But of course this loser gained some confidence after he received your compliment

“Well if we’re talking about who’s pretty, then there’s no contest, hands down you’re the most beautiful,” 

“Peterr!” 

“I only speak the truth,” 

“Well you’re sweet spider-boy but it could just be from all the fruit roll up’s you’ve been eating,”

“Also,”

“Also?” 

“You should pump gas more often,” 

“Why….” 

“Cause you kinda looked really hot,” 

“I mean it is July the temperature are rather warm,” 

“Peter Parker you know that’s not what I meant,” 

“I know, I just like teasing you,” 

Not nice,” 

“I mean, I guess my so called hotness while pumping gas would explain why that hot blond was staring at me the entire time,” 

“wHOOO?”

Peter just laughed and didn’t answer you

This fuking boy

When you finally made it to Niagara Falls Peter was flipping excited.

You checked into your motel and then decided to go exploring

“So when do I get to find out what this surprise is?” 

“SOON” 

“Should I be worried?” 

“Shhhh Y/N, it’s a surprise I'm not going to throw you over the falls or anything,”

YOU were extremely suspicious as to what the surprise was

YOu and Peter went to the falls and you spent so long just taking pictures of Peter’s face when he first saw them

He was in absolute awe

You were so fucking in love with this boy

You kindly asked another Person to take a few pictures of you and Peter in front of the falls

They smiled and said you two made a cute couple and they snapped a few photos and gave you back your camera

“About that…” 

“About what?” 

“I also think we make a cute couple,” 

“Y/N NO SHHHH YOU’RE GOING TORUIN MY SURPRISE”

You were so confused

Did Peter just tell you to stop revealing your feeling cause IT WOUDL ‘RUIN HIS SURPRISE’

What was this boy up to  

After you spent some more time at the falls Peter dragged you down to the bottom of the falls 

“Peter what are we doing here?” 

“I BOOKED US A TOUR ON MAID OF THE MIST” 

“You did not,” 

“I did,” you smiled and gave Peter a hug.

You had been to Niagara Falls before but you had never gotten the chance to do a boat tour and Peter knew it was always something you wanted to do since you saw the episode of The Office where Jim and Pam got married on one of the boats

You were both given ponchos and you climbed on to the boat

You were kinda sad you couldn’t take your camera out cause you didn’t want to get it wet.

“So this was only half of the surprise,” Peter said 

“What? There’s more?”

Peter turned to you and just

HES SO FUCKING CUTE HIS HAIR WAS GETTING WET SO HIS CURLS WERE FLOPPY BUT THEY WERE ALL OVER THE PLACE AND UGH HES ADORABLE

“I’m in love with you,”

YOU WERE BLOWN AWAY YOU DIND’T FUCKING KNOW THIS BOY HAD ANYTHING BUT PLATONIC FEELINGS FOR YOU

“Are you serious Peter cause If you’re just fucking with me thats not very nice and you know I love you so I really hope you’re not messing with me cau-

Peter cut you off with a kiss

Usually you’d be mad if someone did that but Peter Parker was kissing you on fucking Maid of the Mist of all places and it didn’t seem to matter in that moment

“I love you too, you nerd,”

Peter had this big goofy grin on his face and you just smiled and went to kiss him again.

It was a long ass eight hour drive to Niagara Falls but it was totally worth it.

[deepfriedtwinkie]

Kingsman: A Trainee’s Mission (Pt. VIII)

PREQUEL FIC, this section ~2,300w

pt. I  | pt. II  | pt. III  | pt. IV  | pt. V  | pt. VI  | pt. VII

.

.

It’s four of them left at the end. Harry, Hamish, and their final hurdles, Derrington and William. He thinks back to the moment they stood there, proposing agents at their shoulders, and listened to Arthur inform them they’d reached the final stage.

Everything had rung in his ears for the remainder of the night. Possibly it might’ve had a thing or two to do with being drugged, but there’s plenty reason enough to doubt it was only that. Surreality, for one thing. Utter surreality.

One sentence, and his goal was within reach. No other candidate craves this the way he does. They haven’t had the chance.

He’s finally reached the stage that’s going to change his life forever. One way or another.

Harry glances anxiously around the drawing room where he was told to wait, kneading his hands, minding Mr. Pickle at his feet. He’s trying to conjure up a focused mental review of his past twenty-four hours with Martin. There’d been plenty of advice, he was sure. Peppered with years of a seasoned field agent’s wisdom, cautionary tales, and all sorts of things like that. The problem is, the only thing he can seem to remember is the proper way to make a martini. Ice, gin, vermouth, shake, pour, garnish. It’s not very helpful at the moment.

His gaze jumps up when the door opens, expecting Arthur. Instead, it’s Hamish, Ainsley loping obediently at his heels. He shuts the door behind him and comes to sit, settling on the far end of Harry’s divan.

The two hold a shared look for a beat or two, capped off with singular nods. It’s a heavy moment, and that’s acknowledgment enough of that.

Until it isn’t, because who are they to kid themselves at this point.

“Are you nervous?” Hamish asks quietly. It’s the most pensive Harry’s ever heard him.

He can’t give that anything but honesty. He lets his head bob. “Yes. Very much.” Then he looks left, watching his friend contemplate his hands. “You?”

The silence lasts far longer than he expected it to. Hamish doesn’t look up. He hardly moves at all, in fact. It lasts until Harry is tempted to ask what the matter is.

Then, without preamble, he doesn’t have to.

“My aunt died three years ago,” Hamish says.

Immediately, Harry’s empathy is lead in his stomach. He wouldn’t dream of prodding this time.

“I was just a tyke when my parents’ car wrecked in the highlands. Didn’t even think twice before she took me in.”

He has to pause. Harry’s overwhelmingly compelled to let him off the hook.

“You don’t have to tell me any of this,” he insists softly.

Hamish’s head shakes. His hands cover his knees, and his glance finds the window. He continues. “We lived in Edinburgh. Got by all right on her pension, and she’d patch up the neighbors’ clothes for a discount whenever we needed a little extra. Worked her fingers to the bone for me, she did. Then, one day… Pneumonia. Ten days in hospital, and that was it. It was foster homes after that. Four, maybe five of them. Shit ones, mostly.”

The more of this he says out loud, the more vulnerability his stoic face betrays. Harry knows what’s coming. It doesn’t take a genius to get there.

“I turned eighteen a week ago,” Hamish reveals, and it’s the softest part of all. His eyes drift somewhere far away. “If this…”

He doesn’t say any more. They both know he doesn’t have to. Harry works out the rest on his own. There won’t be another foster home. Or any funds to follow his intern work to Berlin, either.

There’s nothing left for Hamish out there. Nowhere to go.

Maybe he’s not the one who wants this the most after all.

Harry wracks his brain for something to say. It takes several moments, but he lands on something he thinks might hit the right note. His inspiration licks her paw.

“Is Ainsley named after her?” he asks.

Hamish nods again. It’s hard to spot at first, but one side of his mouth shows signs of twisting toward amusement. “What’d you study at Oxford, anyway? Let me guess: psychology?”

“Political science major with a minor in entomology, specializing in lepidoptery.”

“Lepi-what-the-fuck?”

“It’s the study of butterflies.”

“I was right, you’re something the fuck else.” Grinning faintly now, Hamish sighs, and he retraces his mental steps, idly scratching behind his bloodhound’s ear. “Mrs. Ainsley. Her and my mother’s maiden name. That’s what she liked everyone to call her. God help the sod who didn’t. It was Aunt Ainsley to me, too, no exceptions.”

Hopefully it’s in good taste to ask questions again, because he can’t resist poking at the pattern he’s seeing. He’s a shit, after all. “Why was that?”

“Oh, her first name was Agathe. She fucking hated the thing.”

Harry’s urge to laugh slips free before he can temper it.  Slowly, it catches, and by the time Arthur appears in the doorway, the two of them are confusing the hell out of the dogs, employing sleeves to rid the tears from their eyes.

“We’re ready for the both of you,” Arthur says. “If and when you’re quite finished.” He gives nothing more to their antics past a single peaked eyebrow. It’s very evidently not his first foray, but he looks like he’d love for it to be the last. Harry straightens quickly, aware of Hamish doing the same.

The adjacent doors have opened as well. One to the right, the other left. Lamorak is framed in one. Lancelot in the other.

There’s one order of business left before he takes his summons. Standing tall, Harry protrudes his hand to Hamish.

“Good luck, friend.”

Hamish clasps it, shaking heartily.

“And to you.”

Whatever awaits, may we both be Kingsman when it’s through with.

Turning apart, they go their separate ways. Harry hears the shutting of doors behind him, comforted by Mr. Pickle’s loyal trot as he meets Agent Lamorak, entering a sunlit parlor. It’s the sort of room he’d love to read a book in. Maybe he will, once he’s an agent. Because he’s going to be an agent. He’s going to be.

“Have a seat,” Martin instructs. Harry does, and so does Mr. Pickle. Just look at you. You couldn’t possibly be better behaved. I hope you know how much I appreciate you making me look good on this.

After all this time, he knows better than to expect his instructions straightforwardly. He knows to wait for them. He’s still waiting when Martin reaches into his jacket, pulling out his handgun. Extending it to him.

“Take it,” he says.

The sinking feeling in the pit of his gut knows something that he doesn’t. He wishes it would tell him sooner than later. Harry takes the weapon cautiously, eyes plastered to the agent’s face, seeking out the answer.

“That’s a full clip.”

It seems a little obvious to point out. You don’t say? I’d have expected most Kingsman to carry around empties for the fun of it. The fact that he’s deflecting even in his own head is a fairly severe warning sign.

Something is wrong. Something awful is coming. He just doesn’t know what.

Until Martin calmly finishes his sip of liquor.

“Shoot the dog,” he says.

Harry’s world narrows to a single frame, zooming nauseously to a point, and that point is Mr. Pickle’s trusting face. He wants to retch. He wants to turn the gun on Martin, just for the suggestion, and fuck all he’s done for him. All he can do is stare at him in shock.

How can this be what you want from me? How can this be what you’re asking?

He wonders if his mother would fault him if he left this room and never looked back. He wonders how long it would take him to fault himself.

He rips his appalled gape away from Lamorak, landing it where it belongs, letting it soften to something between pure love and despair. Mr. Pickle shifts his weight patiently to new paws, unaware of any of this. Unaware that he… That this could…

He can’t even think it. He can’t imagine a world in which obeying that order is okay. In which he can live with himself in the aftermath. Every suit would be blood red to him. Every one of his triumphs tainted with the sickest form of selfishness, the murder of something that had unconditionally loved and trusted him, who hadn’t done a thing to anyone. A completely–

Harry’s mind reboots itself.

A completely innocent being.

A Kingsman only condones the risking of one life to save another.

Things begin to click faster than he knows what to do with them.

The net in the gorge.

The bombs that stopped at zero.

Why specifically tell me the gun was loaded, unless…?

The danger was never real. All this time, it was never real. We were only meant to think it was.

Martin isn’t asking mindless obedience. Kingsman aren’t killing machines, and they don’t want them. He’s asking for comprehension. He’s asking if he’s understood.

Harry bolts to his feet, hands quivering. He has to do it before his nerve fails him. He has to do it now. It has to be now.

His trembling aim rises. Then steadies, by force. Mr. Pickle’s amber eyes glint up at him from over the barrel. His revelation didn’t end his insides’ churn, and neither does that.

Please, please God, let me be right. Don’t let me hurt this dog. Please, I beg of you, don’t let me have gotten this wrong. Don’t let me be wrong…

He fires.

The pellet bounces off Mr. Pickle’s fur. He staggers backward with a whimper.

Nothing more.

The gun is on the ground and Harry’s dog is in his arms before he registers, even remotely, that the sound of his gunshot was doubled by the room across the way.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart, did that nasty thing hit you?” Mr. Pickle is wriggling like mad, stretching to reach his face and lick every inch of it, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Laughter bubbles out of him with tears, and it’s hard to tell which came first. “Oh, yes, I know. I know. I would never hurt you. I would never, ever hurt you, Mr. Pickle. Not for all the money in the world. Not for a thing.”

Martin rises while Harry’s still pressing soothing kisses to Mr. Pickle’s scruff. After another half-dozen or so, he finally senses he should pay attention, and looks over in time to see Martin replace his weapon, straighten his jacket, and offer his hand.

It’s then that it happens. He’s unprepared to commit it to memory, but he’s going to anyway.

“Welcome,” says Martin, “to Kingsman. Agent Galahad.”

Welcome to Kingsman.

Gently, Harry plops Mr. Pickle back to the floor. His eyes are full this time, and he makes no excuse for them. Reflex takes Martin’s hand for him. He barely feels his arm move.

Thank you, sir. His brain sends the command to his mouth. “And Derrington…?” is what incredulously comes out instead.

Please don’t let there be a chance of losing this. Don’t let there be an asterisk.

“Shot the dog, too,” Martin says, pumping his hand. Harry’s heart nearly stops, and so does the handshake. It’s Martin’s look that saves it. “Then thought the blank must be some mistake. Tried to take Geraint’s sidepiece and finish the job. I hear Molly bit him. No one stopped her, either. He’ll be on his way home once the dart wears off.”

Harry exhales so heavily his lungs might as well be raisins. Never in his life has he been so grateful a human being turned out that depraved.

“You’ve done it, Harry,” Martin confirms with a grin. “We all knew you could. Your mother will be extraordinarily proud.”

Mother… He’s got to phone her. He’s got to get to a telephone. He’s got to…

No, not yet. Not yet.

There was a second gunshot.

He grabs his mentor’s hand again, rattling away at his elbow like a lineman in a lever factory. “Thank you, sir. Thank you, I’m honored. I… May I be excused?”

There’s something knowing in Martin’s expression, and he nods. “Go on.”

Scooping up Mr. Pickle, Harry all but throws open the door. The one on the other side is already open, framing Lancelot again, only this time, smiling in the background. Hamish is already charging to the middle of the drawing room.

Grinning ear-to-ear.

“William?” Harry demands.

“Couldn’t do it; Kay sent him home.”

“Ainsley?”

“She’s all right.”

If there’s anything his memory allows him to keep about this day, anything that holds its clarity instead of fading to the blur of awe and adrenaline, Harry wants it to be this. The moment that he extends his hand again, this time brimming with the glee of a ten-year-old boy, standing tall in a Kingsman agent’s shoes.

“It’s an honor to be working with you, Merlin.”

No one else knows the relief on his friend’s face like he does. Hamish shakes, blinking back tears of his own. “And with you, Agent Galahad.”

“Agent Galahad!”

There’s no parrot in the room. It’s Martin again, emerging from the parlor holding a sheet of fax paper, radiating alarm.

“Don’t get comfortable. I’m going to need backup. Come with me. Your suit’s on the plane.”

“Merlin, to the control room, quickly. Arthur will meet you there,” Lancelot orders.

There’s only time for a sharp nod each, and Hamish claps Harry’s shoulder. Then the two of them are off down the corridors, scored by the sound of a piped-in radio broadcast.

For those of you just tuning in, the date is Wednesday, twenty-nine July, and what a beautifully clear morning for the wedding of the century…

.

pt. IX

[writing-away-my-sorrows]

Mine - PART 1

Intro - haha heres something to make sure my blog doesnt die. ive been working on this for a while now so expect more parts <33 (ironic that i hardcore ship spirk and im writing a mckirk fic) 

Paring - (Bones X Kirk)

Words - 1,851

Triggers - Anxiety, some passing out, explosion/mass disaster/loss mention, general Bones behavior.

Summary - Bones takes a visit to the bridge to argue with Kirk to lead to an unexpected anxiety attack.

~Enjoy!~

Bones grumbled at his ratted desk, caressing a stress ball in his palm, which was worn tired from how much the doctor had squeezed it. He had to tightly scrunch the ball until his fingers turned a pale white in order to rid himself of the feeling of boredom. The emptiness of his office troubled him, as he always had to deal with a reckless Kirk in ruins, begging the tired doctor for a second chance in life, when all he needed was a band-aid. The harsh noises of the kinetic sand in the stress ball was grinding into his ear drums, making McCoy twitch to each grain of sand being twisted and toyed with. Eventually, he had to set the stress ball down, which was already a loud enough of a noise. He rested his weary head on his hands, as he firmly situated his gnarly elbows on his desk. For once in a couple years, he let out a sigh of dismay. He didn’t know what to do. The whole Enterprise had seemed to stop with no real cause. He tried his hardest to circle around the med bay, looking for jobs, or any kind of work, but his men only seemed just as puzzled. He tried to reorganize his hypos and medicines, but they were already in place and collecting cobwebs while they were at it. It was so barren and sad. McCoy hated that.

The man stared at the wall in front of him, which laid the entrance to his solitude. He had chuckled, thinking of the plastic skeleton decoration he placed in front of the door, which he had labeled “The Last Man who Talked Back to McCoy”. He was proud of that. Kirk had gotten a replicator code for an ancient toy skeleton, and decided to make the best of it and make one for his birthday. He and almost all of the bridge crew decorated and made the skeleton beautiful, adding tattoos, clothes, signatures, and even piercings. At the end of the day, he got a skeleton that was so packed with graffiti, he could barely see the skeleton underneath. Eventually, after years of seeing his face, Bones named him Graffiti Kirk, after the two things he love-hated most in life.

Beep! McCoy was startled by the sound of the intercom clicking on, probably not touched in weeks. This is Captain James Tiberius Kirk speaking to give you an announcement. I understand that the explosion on Yorktown was a pretty big ordeal for all of us, and some of us had lost some things within the flames. It was a devastating event for all of us, even some people on the bridge. But, I’m here to announce that everything has been going very smoothly and we will take off to continue our five-year mission in a week or so. Keep your hope and smile down the halls this week. Kirk out.

Bones sat in silence for a couple minutes, processing what the captain had said. His words were true; the explosion on Yorktown was devastating and had taken the lives of several people. He couldn’t remember the last time he walked onto the bridge and saw smiling faces. It hit Sulu the worst. On Yorktown, the helmsman’s husband rested there with their daughter, and he can remember seeing the Asian’s overjoyed face to his husband’s smile. Just thinking about his loss tore his heart, and brought tears curling in the edges of his eyes. He sighed, knowing all the love the poor man was receiving; Chekov was all over him after his loss, asking for coffee, offering assistance and just helping him. He’s never seen Chekov more active with his actions, as he was so reserved and silent to himself, only speaking when spoken to.

Irritated with his unstable position, he pushed himself from the desk and stood up, pushing his weight against his legs, which tingled with the sensation of falling asleep. Bones cursed and kicked his foot against the edge of his desk to snap his feet out of a daze. Grumbling, he strode out of his office, picking up a PADD on the way out. He aimed right for the hall, striding down, aiming for the lift at the end. Every step he took outside his office, the more depressed the Enterprise looked. The halls were desolate, the walls rid of all it’s usual flashing lights and cheerful appearance. It was strange.

The world had fallen into a gray scale ever since the explosion on Yorktown.

He rushed to the lift and swerved around, positioning himself in the lift. Clearing his throat, the McCoy clearly projected. “Computer, set course for the bridge.” The request was followed swiftly by a confirmation beep and the swooshing melodies of the lift barreling through the ship and upwards to the bridge. The soft noises of the lift shifting through the ship were like white noise to Bones; very relaxing and gentle to his ears, like mini-symphonies playing inside his head that would gently row him to sleep. He took a deep breath, feeling the air filter through his lungs and have the beautiful sensation of oxygen sprinkling throughout his system, giving his body a healthy supply of energy.

The lift elegantly paused it’s ascent as it landed softly at the top of the bridge, the door sweeping open. Bones stepped forward to greet himself to a huge, spacious bridge, which was coated in a pearly white, with the occasional blue spattered across the controls. As he turned a left to see the side of the bridge, he looked at the captain’s chair, occupied by captain Kirk. He was slouching in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, with his arms resting on his armrests. His face was a sharp, chiseled, perfect face for any woman to cling onto instantly. His hair complimented his face quite nicely, as his neatly brushed back blonde hair shone in the bland room. Kirk’s shirt was a bright mustard yellow, gleaming like a comet from the rest of the blue or yellow shirts. He looked like a star in human’s skin. One narcissistic star.

Kirk’s attention was dragged away from the haze he was in and looked up at the doctor. His face was sprinkled with a hint of pleasant surprise, as the doctor hadn’t checked up on the bridge in a couple days, but was quickly followed by a charming grin. Though Kirk was quite handsome and his smile could brighten up a whole room, McCoy could always look past his crystal blue eyes and see the oasis of trouble resting behind his vision.

Kirk gave a half laugh, lighting up the bridge with his cheerful nature. “Bones! When was the last time you stepped foot outside your office?” His voice was like any comic book superhero; bold, slick, loyal, and was just low enough to lasso anyone into his bellow. Each word was almost perfectly articulated, but it was expected from a rambunctious man like him.

“Just checking in.” Bones grumbled as he took out the PADD he grabbed from earlier, quickly scrambling his fingers to glide against the sleek surface. He hadn’t planned to do anything at the bridge, as he just wanted to leave the solitude and depression from his office at Med Bay. After a moment’s pause, he realized that he could give a quick medical scan, so he glided his scrawny fingers over the PADD to set up medical applications.

While doing so, he could hear Kirk give a scoff slyly and started the fiddle at his control panel on the rests of his chair. “So, Bones, what have you been doing recently?”

“Sitting at my desk and finding something to do on this ship.” He grumbled back, having an obvious tone of annoyance.

“You do know you can go out and do something in Yorktown, right?”

“Hah, like I want to go see the destruction of that place again.”

Kirk gave a nod of understanding, pausing a moment to find something to reply with. “Well, you can try the new bar they installed on Deck 4.”

The doctor looked up and gave Kirk a stink eye. Kirk returned the look with a laugh and leaned in, staring at him with a teasing look. “What, you don’t like that? It looks amazing; Scotty’s been insane over the beer fountain.”

“I’m a doctor, I don’t need to get that toxic alcohol swimming in my system.” He was easing up, releasing his annoyed tone.

The captain laughed. “Says the man who drank with me a week ago!”

“I only accepted that because it was your birthday.”

“You went out of your way to find that vodka in someone else’s locker!”

“Like I said, it was your birthday, so it was mandatory.”

“Oh, for christ's sake- just go check out that deck and have a drink, whether or not it’s my birthday.” The captain finally retorted.

“I’m pretty sure you’re trying to find an excuse to get rid of me.” He scoffed, finally finishing with is PADD work, so he slid the PADD underneath his armpit, and looked Kirk straight in the eye. Obviously, his words were not harsh, as he gave Kirk a look of subtle sarcasm, which was quite rare for the grumpy doctor he was.

Kirk cleanly caught his joke, and returned with a solid response, chuckling a little. “Be glad I didn’t suggest the compost.”

Bones cocked his eyebrows, staring at Kirk, trying to process his come back. Jesus, that was really weak. Even though that was the weakest shot he’s ever seen, he felt a small hole in his chest; a little walnut of pity. He shook this off and snorted, looking Kirk straight in the eye. “Alrighty then, I’ll go to the bar then. I’ll come back with a medical checkup.” He had to pinch his fingers to not let his voice hitch mid-sentence.

Kirk eyed him, but he leaned back into his chair and crossed his legs. “Hah, alright go have fun, buddy. Make sure to get me a shot.” His voice was sarcastic, but the joke has already ended for the doctor.

After looking at Kirk for a second, he nodded and strode out of the bridge, ushering to the lift at a quick pace. He couldn’t clearly remember anything definite from that point on, as everything was a hazy blur, lights, and walls turning into one, with the floor rising from the ground and dancing around him. The world was inverting and reverting, not knowing what to do with itself, as the walls disappeared around him, preventing him from falling onto the wall. He tripped backward, falling onto the lift floor hard, and banging his head against the wall of the enclosed space. He felt the warmth lifting from his fingers as his consciousness gave way, making the world tunnel view itself into a void.

Inhale. Exhale. The void in his chest as astronomically expanded, walloping his chest and investing his lungs. His lungs. He forgot how to breathe. Breathe. Please. 

Breathe.

~To Be Continued~

[arcanakrp-blog]

YU DAEKWAN – JUSTICE. AGENT 11.

                                                   [   FILE TYPE: CLASSIFIED   ]

//: LOADING PROFILE: YU DAEKWAN ...

international age: 22 birthplace: jeju, south korea arcana: justice team number: eleven

//: LOADING MUTATION: WING MANIFESTATION  ...

application one: enhanced endurance —   the best way daekwan knows to describe is that it’s like he operates in a low power setting. if a regular person needs a solid eight hours of rest daekwan is awake and alert after only five. he also needs far less food and water than the average person as he is able to sustain himself on a low amount of each. but the aspect of this that is in general most useful to him is that pain and stress also don’t affect him as much as the average person.

application two: regenerative healing factor — he can rapidly regenerate/recreate lost or damaged tissues or organs. this allows him to recover faster from damage that would take a normal person out for months or even from damage that could permanently affect the average human. it’s also the mechanism that allows him to call upon his wings and not permanently injure himself in doing so.

application three: flight — his wings aren’t just for looks they are actually capable of lifting him (as well as another person) and carrying him for long distances. this in combination with his other abilities allows him to fly as long as there is enough atmosphere for him to maintain his lift. due to him spending a lot of training he’s also able to fly for long distances and at high speeds making this the most useful method of traveling for daekwan.

overall strengths and weaknesses: — the need for things such as water, food and sleep are only reduced for daekwan not eliminated entirely. it takes longer for such things to catch up with him but when they do he suffers the same consequences that anyone else would. similarly he is not immune to pain or stress he only has a heightened tolerance for it. meaning if he were to be wounded in some manner it would still hurt, however, daekwan can tolerate a larger quantity of injuries as well as more serious injuries before it begins to really affect him. when it comes to his healing factor daekwan is not completely immune to damage. in fact he’s still wounded the same as any other person would be. and while he’s never exactly tested it a deadly injury such as a bullet through his brain would kill him the same as any other person. similarly if he sustains so many injuries in a short amount of time that his healing factor can’t “keep up” so to speak he will also be in mortal danger. and as of yet he also cannot recover lost limbs or organs. although daekwan can fly as high as any bird in order to not suffocate he has to stay low enough that there is still enough oxygen for him to breath and enough air for him to maintain lift. meaning he cannot fly beyond the earth’s atmosphere. and his wings when present are as much a part of his body as his fingers or his arm is meaning they sustain just as much damage as any other body part would. on the bright side this also means that he can strengthen the muscles in his wings in the same way he could build muscle in his legs and arms. another downside of his wings is that when present they are quite large (this of course because they need to full support him while he flies) meaning there are some places he simply can’t fit when he has his wings. this also means he needs to be mindful of where he is when he’s manifesting his wings because if the space is not large enough he’s liable to injure both himself and others.

//: LOADING HISTORY ..

PRE-MUTATION

I. his mother called him her little miracle. to her, a woman who struggled to concieve for years his life was a gift from the god she loved so much. and daekwan is her treasure. she loves him more than her husband, more than the god she claims gave her to him in the first place. and her love is suffocating in its intensity. he cannot seem to seperate himself from his mother, cannot seem to take one single step away from her to simply breathe.

II. his father disappears when daekwan is still young. ‘i’m going out to pick up dinner.’ he said. and his car pulled out of the driveway and never returned. his mother eventually cooks dinner for daekwan and sends him to bed, but he gets up in the middle of the night and goes to the front window, pressing his pudgy face and hands against the glass waiting for his father to return. he asks questions for days, weeks even. where’s daddy? when is daddy coming home? his mother never answers him, she simply tells him to stop asking questions.

III. there are girls who notice him now. they coo and titter at daekwan’s cold responses. they pretend he’s only playing hard to get, that one day he will turn around and sweep one of them off their feet. and daekwan? daekwan doesn’t dream of soft curves and pouty pink lips covered in gloss. daekwan doesn’t care for small hands and slight bodies. he’ll never admit to it but he wants something no girl can give him.

IV. he kisses a boy and regrets it. the boy is his friend (or was his friend), someone who daekwan though he might be able to trust. he gets punched for his daring. and it doesn’t take long for the whole school to find out that daekwan is gay. it doesn’t take long for the girls who had previously been so head over heels “in love” with him to start talking behind his back. it doesn’t take long for his schoolmates to turn their backs on him.

V. ‘tell me it’s not true, daekwan.’ she says. and once again daekwan feels suffocated. she’s asking him to deny who he is, no, she is begging him to deny it. demanding it of him. and daekwan, daekwan can only bend to her will. ‘it’s not true, mama.’ he says, ever the obedient son. she pulls him close and tells him she knew it wasn’t true, she tells him she knew her miracle (her treasure, her gift from god, hers) could never be something so disgusting and sinful. daekwan tries to swallow the bile he feels rising in his throat when she calls him her miracle. he tries so hard to be what his mother wants him to be after that. they don’t talk about the incident after that, she simply transfers him to a different school and daekwan finishes his last year in high school without much fanfare. 

VI. he starts university right on time studying medicine because it’s what his mother wanted. and then he develops feelings for his roommate. at first daekwan tries to ignore it but then it becomes obvious that the feelings are mutual and daekwan only wants to be happy so he starts a relationship.

POST-MUTATION

VII. he hasn’t heard anything about the meteor shower. he is simply on the roof of his apartment building trying not to cry. he was tired of being what his mother wanted him to be and he told her as much. the slap he had gotten for his trouble throbs in the cool night air. and for a moment, a tenth of a second really, he considers jumping off the roof. the next thing he knows he can see meteors falling, twinkling as they do and then there is a brief but blinding flash of light.

VIII. the dream he has later in the week is almost painfully vivid. the deep and varied greens of the forest nearly burning to look at. if he reaches out to touch a branch he can actually feel the bark of the tree against the palm of his hand. he wakes up to the same cold reality that he left when he closed his eyes. his back itches.

IX. he’s on the roof of his apartment building again. and this time the thought is not fleeting. he has everything squared away, a note tucked into his pocket for the police to find, his apartment cleaned and organized for whoever takes over his estate. it’s all ready for this. daekwan jumps and there is blinding pain. not from hitting the ground, but rather it starts near his shoulder blades and spreads across his entire back like liquid fire. and before he knows it he is flying, it’s a clunky and awkward kind of flight but it’s enough to get him to the roof of a building farther down the street. when he lands and inspects the wings that have so suddenly sprouted from his back daekwan only has the strength to laugh when he sees the feathers are a deep, inky black color.

X. it isn’t surprise when they came for him. what is a surprise is that they come not ready to subdue him and torture him, but with pretty words and kind promises. they want to help him they say. daekwan agrees to their proposition but only because he has no where else left to go.

XI. he trains. and trains. and trains. they came offering promises to help him and they follow through on their promises. sometimes daekwan wonders if there’s more to this than they let on, but he completes the missions they give him all the same. and yet still in the back of his mind he knows that things don’t simply come for free.