Reblog If Your Name Isn't Amanda.

Am I an Annabeth apologist? No. "apologist" implies she's done something wrong when Annabeth Chase has never done anything wrong in her life ever

my babies

SIX the musical characters as things me and my friends have said bc I’m bored and I say so

Aragon: Jesus didn’t finish highschool so why should I?

Boleyn: Who needs a boyfriend when you have broadway?

Seymour: Its always a good day when you wake up and you know who you are

Cleves: bitch you’d better shut up before I hit you with my laptop

Howard: she who completes her homework is the she I don’t mess with

Parr: if I am still single by the time I’m fifty I’ll marry a man

Reblog, click the picture, and prepare for battle.

tit!obsessed steve rogers headcanon 🎀

sometimes —90% of the time— the only thing that would be running through steve’s mind would be your stunningly, plump and perfect tits. he would salivate at the thought. envisioning you on his lap, your bare back against his chest as he squeezed and fondled your breasts all while kissing and biting at your neck, drinking in your moans.

the day that he found out you could literally have an orgasm with him only teasing and touching your nipples — he almost had a heart attack. he replayed that day on his mind literally 24/7. it was damn near the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life. and you better believe that everytime you two get frisky again, he always starts off with your overly sensitive tits, begging to see you cum again from him just licking and sucking on those nipples.

“c’mon, baby… give it to me…” he groaned against your nipple as he had you straddling his lap. his voice was muffled since he practically had his face smushed on your breast, licking and sucking while his other hand pinched and rolled your other nipple between his fingers. you moaned deliciously, throwing your head back. your fingers were caught in his hair, pulling him closer as he groaned into your skin.

“mmmmh… baby..” you gasped, eyes shut as your brows tented upwards, lips parting in a big O.

“that’s right, sweetheart…” he growled against your tit, his lips moving onto the next one, taking your nipple in between his teeth. “cmon… yeah…” he encouraged you as your moans grew more louder and desperate by the second.

before he knew it, you doubled over him, your fingers swiftly sneaking down to play with your clit as you orgasmed with a shaky moan, your thighs trembling around him. you panted as he reluctantly pulled his mouth away from your tits, his hands still fondling them. “fuck… you’ve no idea what you do to me.” he growled, hooking his arms around your thighs and throwing you down onto the bed, hovering over you and smashing his lips against yours.

i want 50 avengers tower fanfics of the thunderbolts on my desk by morning do you hear me

Percy Jackson episode 3 + text posts

You know what?

I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.

I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)

I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.

I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.

I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.

I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.

I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.

I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.

I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.

Rosewood Chronicles Characters Coping Mechanisms

Lottie: painting, musical theatre, Taylor Swift music and interviews, Studio Ghibli films, cheesy films from the 80′s/90′s, early Disney channel shows and movies, queer romance books (specifically either with a queer couple or a queer main character- she also gets very upset when her OTP doesn’t get together), funny baby complications on youtube, Claude Monet art, mood boards

Ellie: rock/metal music, Ricky Montgomery music, sci-fi films (Back to the Future, E.T, ghostbusters), ranting on Tumblr about her parents, writing music, boxing, vine complications, that one comedian I can never remember the name of, karate, dying her hair

Binah: cinnamon, her parents cooking, reading classics under a thick quilt, science videos, ted ed videos, 

Jamie: high fantasy books (he lives by Brandon Sanderson), running, ju jit zu 

Anastacia: painting her nails bright colours, adding things into her online shopping cart (she calls it ~therapy~), cuddling with Saskia, plaiting her hair,  

Saskia: knitting, cuddling with Anastacia, gymnastics

Ok it's very funny to laugh at Tuxedo Mask for showing up and doing nothing, but his job was never to actually fight the monsters.

His job was just to show up and believe in Sailor Moon so overwhelmingly resolutely that she remembers she's a fucking demigod long enough for HER to fight the monsters.

Because she's the only one strong enough to do it in the first place, and in this regard Tuxedo Mask is the first example of being "Kenough" in this essay I will