one of those every days

“My name is Kodiak Veilbreaker. 

I’m Ash Legion, in full service to the Order of Whispers. Some time ago, I was sent on an infiltration mission into Flame ranks. They needed a guy on the inside, a guy good with glamours and illusions so they’d be hard to suspect of foul play, and they decided that I fit the bill.

I… I’m starting to forget what I was meant to be keeping an eye on in the first place. It’s been a long time since I took up post here, and since the debacle with dragons and Scarlet… I haven’t had a handler check in on me in some time. These days, every time one of those Flame Legionnaires opens their mouth…

It’s getting really bad. I could do with an out before I forget who I am completely.”

on a scale of one to ten how sad are you.

you almost say seven but the answer floats in your lungs like rising mud. you shift your shoulders. some part of you is already forming an excuse. that it’s not that bad sometimes. one, two, three on a day that the clouds are out. you’re just complaining about stuff. yesterday you laughed past a brick of a four, does that make the brick come down to a two-point-five.  the solid seven panic attack of last tuesday feels somehow like a little thorn, just a regular day full of a gentle three-point-nine earthquake rocking after yesterday’s close-to-an-eight. see but if tomorrow you have a real bad day, it will make today look simple.

and what if. what if tomorrow it’s a big old red eight-point-nine. like one of those days where sirens are going off in every part of you but you’re stuck behind a glass window watching it all burn down. like one of those days that your skin against the air feels foreign. like too much of everything. like sitting-in-the-shower, like can’t-eat, like the tide isn’t just coming in, it came while you were sleeping and now you’ve gotta learn how to swim. like bounce me against a bullet hole kind of day.

you keep numbers like nine and ten way out of reach. those are for the people who really are suffering. you’ve got no excuse. nine and ten are funeral numbers, for real problems, not yours, no. and sometimes you’re fine. and you’re kind of used to it. and it’s not sad, it’s just numb like a television caught on static. numb like i can’t remember if i care about this. numb like nothing works but i can’t be bothered to fix it. that’s not sad that’s every day stuff. everybody feels like this, right? feels like they’ve been shut off. right.  

maybe five. right in the middle. like not gonna shoot myself but i’m not wasting your time. a nonanswer. like could be worse could be better. like i need help but i don’t want you to worry even though i need someone to worry about me because i can’t worry about myself. maybe five. but what if five is too small. what if five is too big. what if -

“on a scale of one to ten,” he repeats into your silence, and then pauses. “and please be honest about this.”

Ludi Lin and Fiona Fu on the set of Power Rangers (2017) x

“[Power Rangers] was one of those things that I ran home from school every day to watch, and it’s the only thing that could get me up in the mornings.I was definitely a big fan of the original series. … And it feels amazing, to be back in it, to do the reboot, because the reboot is the original series that I was a huge fan of.” - Ludi Lin

St. Francis Orphanage - Little Details

hello it’s time to cry about nate being a sad orphan child

Nate and Elena’s First House || Adventure Family House Part One || Adventure Family House Part Two


and here we see the exact moment Nathan Drake developed a problem with authority figures

Sister Catherine victim blaming our titular hero. how rude 

(seriously though… some kid stole his books and told him his father hated him + his mom was in hell because she killed herself. I would beat the shit out of timmy too, Debra)

nate was drawing like da vinci right out the womb. the other kids got nothing on him

you’ll visit like every one of those continents one day bb dont worry

sister catherine is right. if you had left ur books in here with jesus, no one would have touched them

(also - Adventure Life magazine! your kid is gonna be on that one day my dude)

pirate comic books ;_;

it’s the 16th of January I think? There would be a shitload of snow in Boston though, wouldn’t there? (Sam also mentions the motorcycle and their mom’s stuff was a surprise that “couldn’t wait till Christmas”, which is like an entire year away if it’s January, so who tf knows what the actual date is).

If it is January though, the year that Jan 1st was on a Sunday that would make the most sense would be 1989. This makes Nate 13, as he was born in 1976. I got Nate’s birth year from A) the ‘76 on Sam’s lighter, and B) Nate was 30 when he met Elena in 2006 (he’s 34 in uncharted 3 (can’t remember where that’s mentioned tho, oops), and Sully makes a comment about them blowing up his plane 4 years ago), so 2006 - 1976 = 30. 

@im-elated made a cool post about this here already, but I wanted to include this detail in this post too - the orphanage got 3 separate “certificate of excellence” awards, which is meant to do a couple of possible things narratively:

1) Establish a rift between the perceptions of happiness and well-being between the staff running the orphanage and the children living there, as Nate makes it very plain how much he hates being at St. Francis. Or,

2) Establish that Nate’s experiences in the orphanage are an anomaly, and that the other children are generally content with being there. 

The second option might make more sense, given that Sister Catherine says it’s a “waste” that Nate is following in his brother’s footsteps + her mentioning to Father Duffy that he should potentially be moved to another orphanage because of his behaviour. Nate is clearly a misfit among his peers, based on the way the nuns treat him, and the contrast shown between his own space (messy bed, books and craft materials piled everywhere) and the other children’s (neat, toys sparse and put away out of sight).

what do the red circles on the dates mean? Are kids adopted on that day? is that when they go on bible retreats? slightly ominous 

The windows directly outside of Nate’s room. I didn’t take a picture of the windows left of this scene, but they’re similarly barred. Given that this is the only window not barred in the kid’s dormitories, and given how much the nuns seem to dislike Sam + his life choices, I wonder if he ripped the bars off while he was still there or something.

Nate’s report file! You can see the M of his last name hidden behind the very unhappy-looking photo.

What the report says:

I caught a glimpse of Edward waving one of Nathan’s books around, teasing the young boy; Nathan immediately lept on Edward, knocking the larger boy down. I ran over to separate the boys, but not before they both managed to pummel each other.

Other stuff worth noting: they were in the Cafeteria according to the report, so Nate was likely sitting alone, minding his business and reading about more interesting places, when Asshole Child Edward came up and stole his book (and badmouthed Nate’s parents). Poor muffin :(

It’s funny to see that the chapter directly after this one (Infernal Place, in Panama), Nate is in still in some form of captivity, but he is now the bigger kid on the block. He’s carved out a space for himself in a familiar environment (ie any prison or form of state incarceration), even if he has to take a few punches to make that happen. U go boy

ah yes. my favourite childhood games: Democracy, the Game of Strife, and Fruit to Fruit. I see you, naughty dog

Arts and crafts! I’m sure Nate hoards this stuff during play time

I’m very much feeling my age with this old ass box PC. I remember fighting with kids over the lone computer in my grade one room. good times.

alright which one of you fuckers ate the goddamn Z magnet

@im-elated also pointed this out (thank u for inspiring half the content in this post), but this is the Pain Board. “DREAMS” has a typical American Dream family home under it, and if you look closely:

Nate’s name is half-erased and crossed off the Star List (probably by another kid, given how messy the job is). Nate being chronically bullied as a child just feeds more into his issues with self-identity and worth later in life. RIP

More pain. I don’t think Nate has a picture up here though? His drawings are a lot more precise than the other children already, and given that he’s the only kid in his room who hangs up his drawings next to his bed, he probably likes to keep them more private (possibly because he was picked on by jealous assholes who wanted to be as good at drawing as he was, or called him a nerd for drawing historical scenes)

look how instantly just,,, happy nate gets when he’s with his bro. Sam is the only good thing in his life at this point, and he doesn’t even get to see him regularly. 

(also: hairy floof)

It’s difficult to get photos that show the full extent of St. Francis, but this place is huge. This might be a mix of different buildings - church, orphanage, and possibly even a divinity college? It covers a pretty massive area in Boston.

hmm. the front door, aka the last place Nate and Sam saw their father. I wonder if Sam ever tried to find their dad after getting out of the orphanage? 


aaaaand there we go! This chapter is hidden with lots of cool stuff (and pain) that gives a surprising amount of insight into Nate and Sam’s early development and character establishment.

I’m one of those who enjoys finding ways to slip my craft into my every day life and had a lovely idea today….

Hair color. I color my own hair every couple of months and can start using this to plant a semi-permanent spell on myself.

You can cast a glamour on the color, enchant it for confidence, spell it to last longer and stay bright/dark. Use the leftover color to write sigils on fabric or surfaces or use the bottle for jar spells.

Whatever feels right with your personal craft and resonates with you!

(Obligatory warning to be smart with these chemicals)

Got7 reaction to you being emotional on your period

A/N - I feel like a lot of girls reading will relate to this one haha. We’ve all had those emotional days every now and then bc hormones. Hope you all enjoy the reaction!

Heya! I have literally been reading your blog for the past hour. I am addicted. I don’t request much but I love your writing. Could I get a got7 reaction to you being very emotional because you are on your period?

Mark: Since Mark has two older sisters, I think he’s seen his fair share of emotional periods so will have some knowledge of the best ways to cheer you up whether that’s with a tub of ice cream or just some nice warm hugs on the sofa.

JB: I think JB might be a little unsure on how to handle it, particularly if you were having a lot of mood swings but he’d probably just let you get your emotions out and just take in everything you say. Then he’s all up for some cuddling.

Jackson: Jackson might be a little clueless as to how he could cheer up a girl who’s literally just bleeding for a few days straight but he knows how to give good cuddles! He’ll literally just cling on to you until your period’s over.

Jinyoung: Jinyoung will be an absolute expert on how to cheer you up if you’re feeling emotional. He’ll just somehow know exactly what you need and will be ready with it so you can feel better, even if it was that time of the month.

Youngjae: I think Youngjae would be a bit like JB and not know totally what to do so instead he’ll just do whatever boyfriends do in the movies he’s watched. He’ll ask if you want movies, chocolate, hot water bottle, anything really to try and cheer you up.

Bambam: Bam would just naturally be able to cheer you up without even trying because he just has a contagious personality. Seeing him be funny and happy will spread to you and make you feel better despite your current state.

Yugyeom: I feel like Yugyeom would do everything he knows that makes you happy. You like watching romance movies? Let’s have a marathon. You like belting out Disney songs? Let’s go for it. You like watching him dance? He’s already got the playlist ready.

2

Kylux - Boxer AU

Up-and-coming boxer Kylo Ren is at the top of his game when an enigmatic "business man" decidedly takes an interest in him.

The One That Got Away [Chapter 8]

Originally posted by jypnior

Chapter 8 of The One That Got Away

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Series Genre: Angst/Smut/Fluff


You stared up into his eyes as your chest heaved. Tears began pooling in your eyes once more, his words hurt more than he could ever know. To think he didn’t know that you thought about all of those promises you made to one another almost every day killed you.

“Say something!” he commanded.

Keep reading

Cadillacs and Cherry Stems

Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Absolute writer’s block, but I still managed to churn it out! Requests are always welcome. Just message me. Lol, love y’all❣️ .xx ~ Ryn

Words: 2,722

Warnings: None, other than insecure Pete (aww ): )

You didn’t notice the way he looked at you. 

When you were lost in class, inking blue pen into your hand, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you because your concentration was so alluring – you were oblivious. Or when he took the long way home, trading 25 minutes for a mere three seconds of catching your eyes looking back at his – you had no clue. Peter Parker was entranced by you – your quirkiness, your intelligence, and he wanted nothing more than to say just one word to you – at least one. He wanted more than those three seconds every day; he wanted to wave, or smile, or talk, or get lost in eternal conversation. He wanted to know what your favorite food was, and he wanted to ask you what songs were always drumming through that head of yours. He wanted to know what your hair smelled like, and why you never paid any thought in English class. Above all, he wanted you to want to know him, too. It was crazy, mad even, but he was desperate. And his desperation was killing him. He couldn’t say anything to you, though, because he was just him, and genius or not, you deep-fried his brain. He may be Spider-Man, but without that mask, it was all just a facade. He couldn’t be witty or courageous. Without the red and blue to camouflage his self-doubt and insecurities, he was just Peter Parker, and no amount of superhuman strength would change that. So he kept walking the extra mile and three quarters just for three seconds – end of story. That was until the day the sirens rang like a deafening blast through his heightened ears, and he stopped watching where he was going, and you, too, were deafening yourself with the consistent beat of your music. The collateral reaction came like a flash of light, because the same three seconds he lived for became the three seconds in which your story began. You crashed like two bullets, cherry red coating your clothes. 

“O-oh my gosh. Are you okay? I-I’m so sorry…” Peter felt like he’d been struck by lighting, because you were doing that thing you always did to him just by walking on the same side walk. This was not how he had planned on meeting you. 

“I’m fine.” You had had it with the world today. Now wearing your milkshake, you were starting to convince yourself of life’s boundless ability to wreak havoc on you. Peter, at this time, was also convincing himself of this very same thing, but with more emphasis on blaming himself. 

“Really, it’s my fault. I-I got distracted… stupid…” He started mumbling to himself, and a kind of guilt washed over you, as you looked up at his contemplating face. You placed a reassuring hand on Peter’s shoulder, and gave your best attempt at making a friend,

“It’s okay, Peter. I was pretty distracted, too.” His head snapped up at his name leaving your lips – a name he was sure you didn’t know. 

“Y-you know my name?” He looked like a blubbering fish out of water, and the naivety running around in his eyes made an unfamiliar feeling bubble up in your gut. A small smile tempted to form on your mouth, and suddenly you’d forgotten all about your sticky clothes and abhorrent day. 

“Duh. We’re in like, what, four classes together, and you’re kind of like the school Einstein… You’re hard not to notice.” You suddenly felt awkward, as you noticed your hand still lingering on Peter’s shoulder, and he surely did, too. His heart was about to burst, and if he wasn’t an ace at keeping his cool before, he surely wasn’t now. 

“W-wow, um, yeah… Okay, so uh, okay.” He managed to cough out before forming a small coherent sentence.

“Well, there’s, uh, not much I can do about your wrecked clothes – which I’m like, really sorry about, really – but I can get you a new drink…? I mean, i-if you want. We can go right now, actually. I’m not doing anything. That’s stupid, you probably have a life and are doing something. Are you doing anything? I’d really like to get you a new drink, because I feel super bad… Not like a date though! I-I –” 

“Peter.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Cherry.” A small smile was considering showing itself on his lips, but it didn’t need to because his eyes were saying enough for the both of you.

“Do you like Sonic?”


Hours later after the endeavor that was only supposed to consist of a hop to sonic, skip to order, and a jump back home, you and Peter found yourselves lost in that eternal conversation that he’d been wishing on a star for and the one you never knew you desired to have. 

“So, Coldplay, huh?” It was amazing to you how Peter’s blockade of awkward geek piece by piece cracked away until this funny, kind, sarcastic boy had blossomed – a guy you never knew existed. 

“Who doesn’t like Coldplay?” He sent you a laughing touché as he shook his hair out of his eyes, realizing that every little detail about you was more perfect than he’d imagined them all to be. Surrealism was floating all around him, and he just couldn’t figure out what to do with himself. He refused to think about the end of the night – he blocked out what would happen when you went to school the next day, and he pushed away the thoughts and knowing of his once again invisibility in your eyes – when he went back to being the dork, the geek, the loser. 

“Peter?” He pulled himself away from his incessant self-berating to look over at you.

“Sorry, what?” You rolled your eyes at what you thought to be a typical act of a boy, not listening, unbeknownst to you the thoughts going through Peter’s head. You sighed and smiled anyway.

“I said, have you ever tried to tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” A blazing fire instantaneously began blotching itself along Peter’s cheeks, as you began to realize the gravity of the question you’d asked, and a light pink hazed over your normal color, and you choked on the last sip of your Cherry milkshake.

“That’s, uh, not what I meant Peter. I’ve heard it does mean you’re a good kisser, though.” He belched out an uncomfortable laugh. He never, ever – like ever – expected to be having this conversation, especially not with you. He didn’t have any idea what to say, but he figured he couldn’t be any bigger of a moron.

“Uh, I, uh, wouldn’t know… and no, I’ve never tried.” You questioningly gazed up at him, somewhat shocked at what you were sure his answer couldn’t be. Had he never kissed anyone? You found the idea outrageous, yet the perpetual innocence of the idea charmed you, and you couldn’t help but find yourself slowly falling into a spell Peter didn’t even know he was casting on you.

“Have you.. never kissed anyone?” You instantly regretted pursuing your question, as a look of embarrassment imbedded itself on the sweet boy’s face. You wanted nothing more than to tell him that it was okay, and it was all artificial – all so manufactured – unless you really loved the person anyway, but he caught words before you could.

“Yeah, um… I haven’t. But I’ll try the cherry stem.” You could tell he wanted to change the subject, and he made it pretty obvious, too, so you did your best to push it aside, plaster a new feeling in the air as you dug around for the cherry in your now empty cup and popped out its stem. You took Peter’s hand, but the second you touched his skin, you had to stop– if only for a mere and brief moment – to feel the electricity that surged through your veins, all the way to your heart, before placing the stem in his palm. 

“Here you go hot shot. Now come on, there’s a place I want to show you.” 


Since you’d grabbed his hand, Peter had had trouble not sounding like he was speaking Greek, and he wasn’t sure if it was because the cherry stem was still rolling around in his mouth, or because he was just truly that retarded. You were questioning your own genuine intentions of your decision of grabbing his hand, rather than just handing the stem to him, and Peter was still stuck on the fact that you touched his hand at all. 

“Are we, uh, you know, like, at there, or there? Or like, the place, is that…?” He felt like smashing his face into a tornado of bricks, and you couldn’t help but snort.

“Yeah, look.” Peter turned his gaze just in front of him, rather than your Y/H/C hair that had blown strands in front of your eyes and he was really wanting to tuck behind your ear (ugh, what is he, a 1993 RomCom?). You had found yourselves standing in front of a rusty gate that looked close to the end of its life, yet it was still standing, dutifully guarding a vast expanse of junk yard as if it were a sparkling castle. Peter glanced down at you, at the childlike smile adorning you face, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling, too.

“Well, come on then.” You tugged at his jacket sleeve in anticipation.

“Uh, Y/N, it’s uh… locked. Doesn’t that mean this is trespassing?” You gave him a sarcastic eyebrow raise as you adored his ‘goody-two-shoes’ act.

“Oh, my dear Peter, that’s the fun part.” He looked at you wide eyed, questioning your sanity, but then unquestioning it because it was your demeanor of rebelliousness that had always drawn him to you in the first place. You held your breath before letting out a loose laugh that danced through his ears, better than any music he’d ever heard. 

“I’m just kidding. It’s abandoned. Has been for 5 years now.” He let out a long breath before slowly nodding, now questioning his own sanity for trusting you – something he surely couldn’t help doing, anyway. As you both slipped through the crack in the gate, you guided them to a car far in the back. It stood proud on a hill – the king of the yard – its pawns guarding it in the valley below. Finally reaching the top, you huffed and turned around, facing Peter and promoting him to follow you and clamor to an unsteady, yet sturdy and dented roof. 

“Uh, Y/N. This is a Cadillac.”

“A 1952 Cadillac.”, you pointed a correctional finger at Peter, who was slowly sitting himself down next to you, pulling his knees up to his chest in the approaching nightfall. 

“Aren’t these, like, really expensive?”

“Oh, very. But not Lucy, here. She’s too beaten, too abandoned. Nobody cares or even knows she’s here” He laughed at you and you glowered your eyes.

“Mr. Parker, are you laughing at abuse?” He raised both eyebrows and looked over to you.

“Oh absolutely not. I’m making fun of the fact that you named it Lucy.”

Her.” You shoved his arm, and a clearly fabricated look of pain filled his eyes, making another one of those unfamiliar feelings grace you with its presence. You didn’t want to acknowledge your crazy ideas, but you couldn’t help but admit to yourself the way the boy who asked you questions no one else cared to know, and the boy who you’d never once spoken to unquestioningly treated you like he’d known you his whole life was making you feel. Your feelings were cut off in the middle of their realization when Peter’s eyes widened and he promptly opened his mouth and rolled out his tongue in which a cherry stem was lying, surely enough in a loop. Your mouth hung open as you slowly started to laugh.

“Unbelievable. I’ve been trying to do that for years! Like I said earlier though, you know what the fact that you can do that means.“ You wiggled your eyebrows in a wavy motion at the boy, and with your everlasting eccentric behavior, Peter was grounded, as a sudden and pleading urge to put his lips on yours overcame him. He was mortified by his own feelings and was sure the internal sweat he was feeling was showing through his eyes. He was petrified, but all the same he was angry – truly angry. His whole life he’d been the good kid. He did his homework, always came home on time, focused on family and school, and yes, it made him happy, but it also made him hate his inability to do otherwise. His whole life he’d been too afraid to live it. Maybe once, maybe just this once, he could convince himself to be more like you – more like the girl he’d admired since he’d set his eyes on her. Maybe once he could be Spider-Man without the camouflage. And in the moment of sitting on this hill, staring at the lights of New York City, his life for once seemed like a movie, and he was the guy who wasn’t afraid to kiss the girl. Ending the constant questioning of the rationality of what he was about to do, he started leaning toward you, praying against your rejection. You noticed instantly, and internally thanked the world around you for his seeming ability to read your mind. But the nearer he drew, the shallower yours and his breath became. Having remembered he’d told you he had never kissed anyone, sudden thoughts flooded his mind, a centimeter away from your lips, foreheads touching. He wasn’t good enough. He was too chicken. He was Peter Parker. Spider-Man wasn’t real; he was a mask – an idea. His breath hitched, and his eyes squeezed shut at his idiocy. Stupid. Insecure. Unrealistic. Somehow, in a way you didn’t know, you knew exactly what was beating through Peter’s mind. You knew apprehension in someone when you saw it. You knew self-deprivation. 

“Peter…” He still had his eyes closed when he hesitantly replied,

“Yes…” He was almost inaudible, but his breaking confidence was loud and clear.

“What are you so afraid of?” You just barely breathed it out, but you didn’t want anything to scare him from telling you the truth. He stiffened, both of your eyes still closed. It may have been the most intimate moment you and he had ever experienced in your lives. Everything felt so raw; you could feel Peter’s vulnerability as if it were your own. You could cut the silence with a knife, and it was only Peter’s voice that ripped through it.

“That-that I’m not good enough, especially not for someone like you. I make so many mistakes, Y/N – more than you may ever know. An-and I don’t know how to do this. I’m afraid of myself sometimes.” You lifted your eyelids, the tenderness of the moment hanging by a thread.

“Being honest Peter, I don’t know much about you. I don’t know your story – your past – but what I do know is that you care enough to ask me the little things about myself. Without even asking you paid to buy me an entire new shake, even though us colliding was half my fault. I also know just by looking at your eyes, there’s this-this light. You have such a big heart, and believe me when I tell you, you’re good enough.” Still leaning his forehead on yours, Peter let out a raspy laugh and a small nod, all of which you heard and felt rather than saw. 

“Okay?” You were desperately hoping what you said could at least help him in some way, the way he had helped turn your day around. He opened his eyes fully to look at yours.

“Okay.” {sorry not sorry John Green😂 } And then he kissed you. It happened so drudgingly slow at first, but it quickly caught up with the pace of both of your hearts. Peter officially was lost is a world he thought didn’t exist, barely managing to process the events of the entire day while you pulled at the back of his neck, he pulled at your lips and placed his hands on your waist. It was something that you both needed – something you both wanted. It was a kiss that you both made sure the other knew you never wanted to end. 

every time i think about having a girlfriend it just?? blows my mind??? like, i can’t even imagine having a girl in my life who loves me and worries about me and thinks about it and wants me around it’s just?!?? what a concept!!

Today I was looking at my mermaid barbie again, and I feel like her head/body mismatch isn’t as bad in daylight, versus my usual nighttime photos. She’ll never really match anyone but her original body, since she’s so very pink, but in person the match is almost passable. (Also Frankenpony hangs out on my desk, so she got to mug for the camera too!) 

I redressed her since I wanted something to downplay the pink tone in her face, so I gave her this sparkly number from my Generation Girl Barbie, because I realized it reminded me of Ariel’s final dress in The Little Mermaid movie, right after she transforms into a human for the last time! The dress was a little baggy (the 90s body vs the slimmer MTM body), so I gave her Mouscedes’ belt to give it a little shape. And even though it’s nowhere close to matching the color scheme, I had to toss her hot-pink crown back on her head! Hey, if you got a royal title, flaunt it!