who is on your team, captain?
mockingjay was a great book
everyone had a good time
prim had a blast
fun for the whole family
petition to make young adult authors stop writing about girls whose lives change when they meet a boy
When she saw him time slowed to a stop. He was so perfect and she knew her life would never be the same because she had finally found him. The one. The first boy she would ever kill.
wow same wow. and yet here I am on tumblr. fuck im so screwed.
i actually got so caught up in studying that i was almost late for class
trying so hard not to go on social media rn but i needed a study break and i didn’t want to pay attention in my class
if you never hear from me again, assume that the stress of the last two weeks of this semester has taken its toll and i have succumbed
Body Positivity for the win.
9 out of 16 are WoC from 9 different nationalities - Spanish, Native American, Middle Eastern, Greek, Hawaiian, South African, Indian, African-American and Chinese.
Even the “white” people don’t all come from the same place - French, Irish, American, Scottish, German, and English.
I’m really sorry if I left out YOUR nationality or YOUR body type, but if I kept going to include every single possible woman in the world I’d never have time for sleep or school work.
Percy/Annabeth, in which punk!Annabeth is totally unimpressed by the new boy with the ridiculously well-fitting sweater collection (not that she noticed. Much.)
Mr. Brunner announces the new kid to the class. His name is Percy Jackson, and he’s from some random town near the water, and he just moved here and could we all show him some courtesy and blah, blah, blah, like Annabeth gives a fuck. Mr. Brunner’s voice is like a white noise machine, but she glances up to see the guy, at least.
A little pale. Carefully haphazard hair, dark as ink. Glasses. Skinny jeans, and stupid shoes, and a blue sweater buttoned up over a plain gray t-shirt.
She goes back to her notebook and continues her drawings, allowing Mr. Brunner’s voice to wash over her once again. She catches a scent—sand and surf and the soft white of laundry detergent—her mother’s silk blouses, the feeling of the tide between her toes, her father’s laughter, a kite soaring ever upwards into a cloudless blue sky. Her doodles turn to sketches of the ocean. She doesn’t realize the bell has rang until most of the class has left.
Favorite SoA Screencaps → Season 1
Jackson Teller + tickles my pickle