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people say that either you get in a fistfight at the Waffle House or the Denny’s depending on whether you’re in the northern or southern US, meanwhile there’s a tiny microcosm of people in the CA East Bay having loud arguments and crying in Nation’s Hamburgers who have never known otherwise

When you've already read all the good fanfics

supervillains fucking hate fighting the x-men because the teams change constantly and sometimes there are??? totally new people there???? fuck there’s a teenager who literally just has eyes all over his body. is he even technically a superhero yet or is he a student. who the fuck knows. how do we counter this shit

it's because you're a slutty little candy man with poor circulation. try getting a heat lamp?

who the fuck just called me a slutty little candy man

everyone say thank you greta

an absolutely insane way to end this year 

"Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood"

i don’t want to be rich i don’t want to be famous i don’t want a million tiktok followers or what the fuck ever i just want a one bedroom apartment in a walkable community with neighbors i could borrow sugar from or bring cookies to when i bake extra and a job that i enjoy and that helps someone and pays me enough to afford my silly little one bedroom and groceries and something fun too at the end of the day and enough free time to sing and dance and read and write and spend time with the people i love and maybe have a dog and some plants to water and a shelf of books to read and a thrift store where i can buy weird clothes and faded denim jackets like i am not asking for anything big or grand or exciting i just want peace i want contentment i want just a little love how the fuck is this too much to ask for

i wish people would normalize being lost in life and just not knowing anything. not knowing what you’re passionate about, where you want to live, what you want to do, where you want to go— or what lies next. as a society, we normalized going to school, finding a passion, getting a job, finding a partner, getting married, having kids, working hard to earn an honest living. but what about when shit just doesn’t go that way? you really just don’t know. and what’s even worse is, you don’t know why you don’t know or even where to start so you feel alone. you feel as though you’re a disappointment to your family. as if you failed in life. but you haven’t, it’s okay, to not know. to be lost. you have your whole life ahead of you to figure things out. patience is a virtue. there is no time limit on life. you don’t need to rush. don’t allow society to fixate the narrative of having all your shit together at a certain age. it isn’t realistic for most. being lost is so much more normal than we think. and i just wish people would be more transparent about it.

king of my heart | mattheo riddle x reader

song; king of my heart [taylor swift] pairing; duke!mattheo riddle x baron’s daughter!fem!bookworm!reader genre; arranged marriage, fluff, angst, hurt comfort, s2l word count; 11,2k timeline; bridgerton au warnings; minor character death, talk of death, minor character terminal illness, minor character severe injury (involving blood), abusive parents (verbal, neglect, vaguely implied physical), patriarchal gender roles, misogyny, implied ptsd, trauma-related nightmares (nothing graphic), verbal conflict summary; your refusal of marriage led your father to relinquish permission for you to choose your own husband, allowing him to make the decision himself and ensure the most status and wealth possible. the problem? the man he chose for you was closed off and arrogant

this is my longest oneshot yet so buckle yourself up!

masterlist

“i made up my mind, i’m better off being alone.”

————————————————

Your father hadn’t been pleased with you the last couple of years, as you had refused to attend the many balls of the engagement season. Marriage was not within your interests, no, your interests were with the shelves upon shelves of books in your family estate’s library.

Of course, that did not matter to Baron D/N, as in his mind a daughter should only be at home until she is of marrying age, at which point she moves to her husband’s estate. You despised the patriarchal traditions of your society, but because of those very same traditions, you could do little to change the matter.

“Y/N,” he spoke to you at dinner one night, sat far away from you on the industrial-sized table, “Due to your refusal to find a husband, I have had no choice but to find one for you.”

Your eyes snapped up to him in shock, and you felt the anger in your fingers as they clutched your cutlery tightly.

Keep reading

Me watching black Chiron and black annabeth have father/daughter moments

YES BRO

MR DDDD

and wait so i can find the right playlist

Scars, Remus Lupin x Reader Masterlist:

This is posted on my Wattpad and it’s kinda trash to begin with but it gets much better in fourth year after like the fifth chapter. Trust me my writing style improved vastly and it really is much better after the beginning of fourth year.

Also, if you read this on here and have Wattpad could you pretty pleaseeeeee go read it on my Wattpad too, an author needs the views and comments 😭 my thing is anne-amelia on Wattpad

Anyway, the story description is here:

She was tired, she was so bloody tired of it all. From the constant nagging and picking and pulling to the waking up at 6 am everyday to do that stupid crap.

She didn’t think it was stupid really, she just didn’t like having to do it.

She didn’t really like having to do schoolwork either, but she found herself to be fond of the teachers and the curriculums. Most of all though, she didn’t mind being at school all too much because it kept her away from the house.

She found James to be nice, and Sirius to be troublesome, Peter was quite thoughtful, but Remus, he was kind to her. They all were, that was why she loved them so much, they treated her like a human being rather than some play toy who can help tidy up the house better.

She had found that Remus was her favorite of them all, he was really very kind to her.

What she had really come to see though, was the fact that he had scars too, and that meant they matched.

First Year:

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

(I made a mega huge timeskip, don’t ask.)

Fourth Year:

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Fifth Year:

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Sixth Year:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

I’ll update this list as I update the chapter.

Ugh, credit to J.K. Rowling for like making The Harry Potter universe and stuff.

That doesn’t mean I like her though.

JUST SO WE'RE CLEAR !!

//REBLOG AND BOOST//

three important things to remember right now:

1. do not share ANY information about the place, the state, and the members of Ukrainian army. don't like it, don't reblog it, don't even write about it.

2. if you want to get information, do not look for carrds or twt threads. turn on your tv, read a newspaper, look for journalists and officials. do not trust random internet users and do not spread the disinformation and propaganda that is already circulating around here. double check every account you see talking about what's happening before deciding to share it further.

3. listen to Ukrainians.

▸ three things ⊹ ꜜ .ᐟ ❜

cc!karl x gn!reader | karl playlist

SUMMARY… three things about karl jacobs

WARNINGS/INFO… pure fluff, 1.7K words, some weirdo trying to get close to you, cursing, not proofread

You are no stranger to affection from Karl Jacobs. ( Really, no one is. )

After weeks of preparing with plane tickets, stuffed luggage, and half-assed bucket lists typed lazily in the notes app of your phones, you finally arrived in the country Karl’s currently staying in, and now your friendship is taken to another level—which would be an understatement, now that you think about it.

From pixelated video calls being the closest you can get to him, to get to see him real close—warm, breathing, the smell of sweet mint and hot chocolate—you aren’t just familiar with Karl Jacobs, you’re quite literally always with him. If you don’t call that familiarity, then you really don’t know what else to label this as.

Even only after a few months of even knowing him, you can proudly say that you have this unbreakable bond with him—and you know this because Quackity tried breaking it once. And by that, you mean he literally tried to rip Karl off of your body, only to have him latch onto your waist like a koala glued to your skin.

And because of this ‘unbreakable bound’ ( dubbed by Quackity himself, cradling his hand which Karl had hissed at when Quackity used physical force to tear him away from you ), you’re bound to have met up with him in real life.

But spending time with Karl Jacobs had made you realize a few things about him. Three things, to be exact.

One: he’s observant.

“Your room is really nice,” you tell him, bouncing slightly on the edge of his bed as you sat down on the mattress, grinning up at him.

Afternoon sunset crawls through the entire room from the thin, windowpane, dissipating into darkness right by your feet where the light doesn’t reach. He looks breathtaking here, all warm and soft, glowing, almost. The intimacy creeps a strange flutter in your heart.

Karl watches you slowly, as if he’s breathing in every moment, in and out, a second at a time. Then, he smiles, carefully making his way to sit beside you. “You can take it if you want,” he says, and his tone is familiar, teasing. It’s almost jarring to realize he doesn’t act so differently in real life.

With a quirked brow, you watch as he falls back on his bed, still keeping his eyes trained on you as if he plans to never let go. “You’re just letting me claim this room? I didn’t know it was that easy.” You shift, twisting around on the thick blanket to face him properly. “You can sleep on the floor if you get sad.”

He laughs, tugging you by the arm to pull you down beside him. Fluffy hair hits white as the sheets stir. “Sure. I was thinking I sleep beside you, though.”

Now you’re just glad that you aren’t on top of him right now, because you swear your expression could speak a thousand words that he shouldn’t hear.

“Nah…” you say, staring up at his ceiling, rumbling with the ceiling fan as it spins and spins. “I’m gonna sleep on your bed. You sleep in the bathroom; I’m feeling pretty generous.”

Karl smiles, but doesn’t say anything, yet there’s already so much fondness. That’s how Karl is: bringing love in even when no one is looking for it, or even if no one can find it. You fidget, unsure of where to look.

“What?” you mutter defensively, heart pounding at his unashamed gaze.

“Do you want to sleep next to me?” he asks, and he drawls it so innocently that you know he’s far from it. “I mean, you don’t seem against the idea. Look at your face.”

You force an unamused expression, brows furrowed and lips tugged down. It doesn’t work; you fall weak the moment Karl giggles at you, falling apart at the seams. He takes notice of this, of course, and sits up, his back turned on you.

He’s not looking at you when he says, “Let’s go get lunch together.” You’re not sure if he’s doing this because he can feel the spike of tension in the air to make you feel safer, but you appreciate it nonetheless.

He finds a home no matter where you two go. ( Maybe he’s home. )

Two: he’s protective.

Karl is far off with the crew recording a video, while you’re seated on some bench by the local park they’ve decided to make the skit take place in. Everyone huddles up as they plan out what they’re about to do in the next scene, and you sigh as you tuck your phone back into your pocket, choosing to instead watch the scene.

It’s cold out this early morning, whisking sporadically to tickle skin, and you, ever-the-dumbass, forgot to bring your jacket. You hadn’t even realized it until you were about two cities away from Karl’s home.

And Karl, ever-the-sweetheart, lent you his sweater instead, pale purple, soft against your arms littered with goosebumps.

Because of this, he’s left with a dress shirt he had been wearing underneath the large sweater—purple reached past his fingertips, the hem on his thighs; but the shirt is fit, rolled up to his forearms. You kind of wished he would wear those often, because damn did he look good in it.

Karl catches your staring, and waves with a wide grin, promptly scolded by his friends after the camera had caught that shot—because of this, it pans over to you, who’s startled by the sudden exposure. Everyone giggles to themselves as they watch you hide out of frame.

A new bench. Away from the cameraman’s field of view, this time.

Unbeknownst to you, someone had already been seated down, and when they speak, your soul flinches out of your skin.

Some guy rests on the middle of the wooden slats aligned horizontally, brown roots earthed by blond hair. You blink at him. He blinks at you back. Your back is only a breath away from him, you realize, and quickly correct yourself to sit on the far edge.

“Um,” you utter shakily, “fuck, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

He chuckles. “I noticed that.” At your look of alarmed concern, he waves his hands. “No, it’s all good, babe.”

You nod, brows knitted in confusion; choosing to let the silence wash over the both of you.

When he speaks again, you want to bury yourself in the ground, muddled with embarrassment. “Are you… with them?” A quick gesture in the direction where Karl and the others are; you don’t bother to look. “They’re, like, the ones on YouTube or some shit, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” You’re not sure what to say to that. “Yeah, I’m— no, not really. I’m just, you know, there.”

“Shame,” he says, staring at you. It would’ve been flattering, if he wasn’t sliding closer and closer to you in a way where it doesn’t feel flirty but just plain predatory. “You’ve got the looks. To get that kind of fame, I mean. You got Insta?”

Clearing your throat, you shake your head politely. You’d rather not humor him any longer.

But he seems to not get the hint, and continues, “Or do you have Snap?”

You have both, but the more he talks the more he’s making it seem like he doesn’t deserve anything.

“I mean,” your eye twitches in annoyance as more of his voice pours into your ears, then a chest on your arm, “can I get your name, at least? I’m chill, I swear.”

Your eyes snap to the side when a shadow looms over both of you.

Karl stands there, toothy smile nothing but a clipped and guarded expression, boring hostility to the man who’s now uncomfortably pushed against your side. Sunlight gushes from behind him, bringing a terrifying shade to fall over his face.

Relief comes to you all at once.

“Hey, man,” Karl says, slinging an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. “Sorry, can I borrow ‘em real quick?”

The guy frowns. “Oh, hey, dude.” He blinks, dumbly. “Uh, we were just talking about—”

Karl waves his hand, smiling, though it’s a far reach from his eyes. “Sure, sure. I just need a quick minute, yeah? Is that cool?” He doesn’t wait for a response, twirling the both of you around until your backs are facing the poor guy. “See you around, man!”

Neither of you are definitely seeing him around.

Karl’s grip loosens, but he still looks alert as ever.

You breathe in sharply, flustered by how fucking close he is. “Thank—”

He halts, pulling you to some alley next to a fast-food restaurant. “Dude, are you okay? That was weird as fuck.” Karl throws a glance in the direction of the ‘weird man’, who’s now awkwardly shuffling away.

He turns back to you, gazing intently.

The heat on his gaze feels as if it’s reaching your cheeks, rushing all over your body like you’ve been flamed alive.

“I’m fine,” you croak out, shy. “Thank you, Karl.”

Karl bumps his hip against yours, his mouth accidentally reaching close to your face. “Anytime.”

And he means it.

Three: he’s loyal.

It’s been five months since you started staying in Karl’s home.

You’re spread over Karl’s couch, thoughts filling you up in a sandstorm. The soft trickling of the shower squeaks shut as you hear Karl step out from the bathroom—and you turn your head, greeted by the sight of him rubbing furiously on his damp hair with a towel.

He peers at you from under the cloth, smiling as he sees you pathetically draped over blanketed leather. “What’chu doing?” he asks, feet padding rhythmically as he skips over to you.

“Was bored,” you say, bouncing slightly when he lands on the couch, making space for himself next to your legs. “You took too long. Now I don’t want to watch the movie, and it’s your fault.”

“Mhm,” he hums, completely unaffected.

You frown, displeased by his lack of reaction. “Get your stinky shampoo away from me. I have a few things to say about your tardiness, mister.”

He does the complete opposite, falling right beside you where half of his body is hanging by the edge. You scoot away to give him space, but he only tugs you closer, nuzzling his nose on your neck to tickle you on purpose.

“Well, I’ve got three things to say to you,” Karl whispers, smiling where he’s pressed against your skin.

“Oh yeah?”

“I,” he emphasizes with a kiss on your jaw, “love,” to the side of your mouth, “you,” then right on your lips. “So, so much.”

You laugh, tugging on curly locks to gently pull him away. “That’s six words, idiot.”

MASTERLIST | LIBRARY RECS

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I'm sorry for coming back so early but we're getting evicted. I'm sorry that I keep asking for money but I'm going to be homeless again soon. My venmo and PayPal are NdieCity and my cashapp is $ndiecity. I'm really sorry to keep begging but I don't have any other choice