BY FAR THE MOST IMPORTANT DEVELOPMENT IN BOO

i’m becoming Skater!Percy AU trash.... and i don’t care!!!

WRITE THE SNAPBACK FIC

pls write a snapback fic bc of that post :’)))))) 

could you write a fic for shirtless skater percy when you have the time??

*arrives three weeks late with a starbucks and a snapback fic*

alright but creds to Meg for blessing us with this, and for Sophii and Rach for starting this madness

Annabeth is annoyed.

The library is usually somewhere she can go to escape the rest of her class; where she can sit down in silence away from distractions and noise and her friends talking about everything but their algebra homework which she is so desperately trying to finish. It’s not that she doesn’t like hanging out with them, she likes having mortal friends and talking about mortal things and pretending for a while that there’s no such thing as the gods and quests and nightmares that send her back to a place of fear and death.

But she really needs to finish her algebra homework.

After another five minutes of staring at an equation while her friends discuss whether their history teacher is having an affair with their geography teacher, Annabeth gives up. She lets out a resigned sigh as she closes her textbook and shoves it into her bag.

“You bailing on us?” Lissa asks.

“As much fun as this is…”

Her friend grins. “You got a better offer?”

Annabeth shoulders her bag. “Friday night,” she says by way of explanation.

“Right. Dinner at Percy’s.”

Annabeth nods. “Have a good weekend.”

She waves over her shoulder as her friends chorus their goodbye before returning swiftly to their previous conversation.

It’s still sunny out, so Annabeth pulls out her sunglasses as she starts down the sidewalk. She told Percy she would meet him at the skatepark after she was done studying; he won’t be heading home for a while yet, but she’s happy to wait. It’s a nice enough day for her to sit in a park and daydream about the weekend ahead of them. She’s spending the entirety of it at Percy’s apartment. And since Sally and Paul are heading to the Montauk cabin in the morning for Paul’s birthday, Annabeth will have Percy all to herself.

Really, it’s been far too long since they’ve had some quality alone time.

And this is the thought which first strikes Annabeth like a fire truck when she sets eyes on her boyfriend at the skatepark. The skatepark is full of kids like Percy and his friends who are glad to be free of school for two whole days, but Annabeth spots him almost right away.

He’s riding one of the bigger ramps not too far from where she is standing, close enough for her to see the muscles of his shoulders and back tense under his tan skin which is covered in a light sheen of sweat, because of course he has taken his shirt off. He’s changed out of his school uniform into a pair of basketball shorts while his shirt lies on the floor nearby. And his hair, oh that wonderful mess of wirey hair in desperate need of a cut, is tucked underneath a baseball hat which he’s pull on backwards. It’s the blue one with fish on. Annabeth loves that hat.

Percy comes to a stop at the top of a ramp and kicks his board up, slapping his hand against one of his friends’. And then he spots Annabeth, and as if she isn’t already a mess, he gives her that troublemaker smile which always makes her knees go a little weak. He says something to his friends and put his skateboard down before jogging over to her.

Annabeth suddenly wishes she’s wearing something other than her school uniform. Her jacket is currently stuffed into her bag and she’s undone the top few buttons of her shirt, but it’s too late now to roll her skirt up and why is she even thinking this anyway when Percy is smiling at her like she’s hung the goddamn moon.

“Hi,” he says as he approaches her.

And one of Annabeth’s secretly favourite things about his growth spurt is the way he has to stoop down to kiss her now. He places his hands on her neck and his thumbs push her jaw up so that he can press his lips to hers and Annabeth melts right there and then. She tucks her arms around his waist to keep him close and dips her fingers just slightly into his shorts.

“Hello,” she hums against his lips.

Percy tips his head back enough to look at her and swipes his thumb across her cheek. “I thought you’d be at the library longer?”

Annabeth shrugs. “Couldn’t focus. Algebra is not my friend today.”

Percy’s screws his face up. “When is it ever anybody’s friend?”

“This is true.”

She smiles, and moves her fingers against the sweaty skin of his lower back, delighting in his shiver. Percy’s eyes close and he drops his forehead to hers and she wants to take him home and see him undone.

They’re in public though, and Percy’s friends are waiting for him, probably watching this display of affection and waiting to drag him through the dirt over it. So Annabeth kisses the tip of his nose and pulls her hands, painfully, away.

“I’ll wait for you,” she tells him.

Percy seems to remember where they are and nods. The hair poking out of his cap brushes her forehead. “Right. Yeah. Fifteen more minutes?” he asks her, eyes wide like a puppy and Annabeth rolls her eyes.

“I’ll occupy myself.”

He grins, and dips down one more time to kiss her. He tastes like gatorade and smells like boy sweat and Annabeth sighs as he draws away. She sits down on the pavement, ready to wait out the most excruciating fifteen minutes of her life.

You know what the tragedy of lotura really is? That despite all of Lotor’s plans…he did love her. He really, truly did. You can see that on his face. And she loved him. And she honestly still does because you can’t just fall out of love with someone like that. The real tragedy was that they loved each other and it was doomed. They’re, in a literal sense, star-crossed lovers.

i dont get offended at white people jokes even though im white because: 

i can recognize white people as a whole have systemically oppressed POC in america, which is where i live 

most people when they make white people jokes only mean the shitty white people and i am not a shitty white person 

im not a pissbaby

You: Thomas Edison is the father of moving pictures

Me, an intellectual: Louis Le Prince is the true father of moving pictures.

Holy fuck I’m listening to History Maker and I am getting the feels <3

a bunch of zutara fic recs!!

worth the read.

every. single. one.

1. eye of the storm

2. color me yours

3. beautiful

4. the best of me

5. and you feel your heart (taking root in your body)

6. such selfish prayers

7. as if death itself was undone

8. i’m still here

9. too cold for you here

10. the better part

11. the sparrowkeet series

moodboard

i’m still not okay

A big hug to all the Jasper fans out there, who had to witness their favorite character become something so broken, and sad, and alien from the boy he used to be back in season 1. He was a survivor. He had a big heart, too kind and too nice for the world he was thrown into. I hope his fans can find peace after tonight’s episode, even as they had to watch a character they loved die such a messed up death, so unjustified and lacking of closure. Big hugs to all of you, I hope you’re doing okay.

If we don’t get 13 getting mad when men hit on her because she’s “a married woman” and has a wife i will be very sad.

i will forever love this

THE KIDS REALLY AREN’T ALRIGHT