#son of a beach

[unholy-cvlt]

DAY AT THE BEACH

[nicknotes2]

Jay Fisher | Peep his NFSW Twitter @jj_aussie for uncensored content

[tomorrows-cryptic-forecast]

Is calling for a strange new reliance on marine puns. Call me crazy, but I don't sea what that forecast could mean for the morn

[urban-daddy]

I think I'm funny...

[letraspal]

Time, wonderful thing.

[arttrashking]

Doooooodle page

[vox-anglosphere]

Victory came at a heavy price

American War Graves in Normandy

[unholy-cvlt]

SUNNY SIDE UP

Not the only way to fry an egg

Sunny side up

I am just a grain of sand on your beach

With all of my heart

All of my Heart

A drop of rain through your hands

Rainbows will bend for me

Curvy

Honey bees will sting for me

Sunny side up

Such a lovely way to start the day

[babacontainsmultitudes]

On the one hand, I understand why Anthony's grievances surrounding S2 would make him much less inclined towards situating any bonus content (bonus episodes, liveshows, etc.) within that era of dndads. On the other hand, :(((( pleeeeeaaasee oh pretty please I miss those 4 teens and their dysfunctional parents and their wacky shenanigans so muuuuuuch please give us S2 bonus episodesss I want to see them have stupid highschool side adventures and maybe even post-S2 content aaaaaaaaaaaaa can anybody hear me!?!?!?!

[tillysslife]

resigned flickers of the fire — p. jackson

۫ ꣑ৎpairings: percy jackson x eros!daughter!fem

the air is thick with summer warmth as percy wanders away from the campfire, the sing-along and flickering flames fading behind him.

only now that he’s alone—or at least what he thought—does he let his shoulders sink. the weight of being percy jackson, the saviour of olympus, has always been a heavy weight on his back. no one could possibly hold him to a higher standard than he held himself. it was a relentless, brutal job that usually ended in him sacrificing himself for others. but he keeps doing it every day, no matter the physical and emotional tolls it takes on his body.

he leaves his shoes on the grass and wriggles his toes in the sand. he feels his body relax just by the smell of the ocean filling his senses. a late night swim would be perfect right now.

to explore the underwater realm, just feel the water envelope percy in its wrenches and take him from his duties for a while.

he peels his orange shirt and was in the process of taking off his shorts when his steps halts.

that was the back of a head that he could recognise from anywhere.

y/n y/l/n, the daughter of eros.

canonically the most beautiful, seductive person in camp. feared and loved at the same time. people couldn’t differentiate whether their feelings for her were real or of it was just an effect of her godly heritage. a tragic trait.

her legs stretch out, toes buried beneath the cool grains of sand. her hair catches the moonlight in a way that makes her look ethereal. her lips release a low humming melody one akin to a siren’s as she absentmindedly twirls a strand of hair between fingers.

he only hesitated for a moment before closing the distance, taking a tentative seat next to the girl.

she hardly flinches at his presence “took you long enough.”

percy snorts, turning towards her, taking in the slope of her nose, the plump of her lip and the sparkle in her eye. “you were expecting me?”

“maybe,” she finally meets his gaze, tilting her head as she leaned back onto her elbows. “or maybe i just know you, jackson.”

percy huffs but doesn’t argue, letting the soft crash of the waves on the shore fill the silence. it’s always been like this with her—effortless. she’s a massive flirt, but with percy it was different. there had always been an undercurrent beneath the teasing and banter. soft unspoken glanced and lingering touches.

“you okay?” she whispers, her voice softer than it just was.

he hesitates before sighing, dragging a hand down his exasperated face. “i just needed a minute, you know how it is. sometimes i just wanna—“ percy trails off, shaking his head.

“just wanna be percy?” she finishes for him.

his eyes flick to hers as he nods slowly, as if surprised how easily she understood him with the minimal words.

she sits up, shifting closer, so close that Percy can see the flick of vulnerability in her eyes. the one that was reserved for him. “you know, you’re allowed to let people take care of you too.” she murmurs.

before he could manage to disagree she reaches out, fingers threading through his dark hair. her grip featherlight but deliberate. it sends a shiver down his spine.

“i do let people take care of me,” he argues weakly, fighting against the temptation to melt into her grasp.

she hums, unconvinced “not the way you need them to.”

percy swallows forcefully. he should deflect—crack a joke, change the joke—anything. but then she shifts that inch closer, her legs swinging over his hip as she straddles him.

“y/n” he croaks “what are you—“

“shh,” she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, tilting his face up to hers. “just let me help you, percy.”

their lips are a breath away and percy can feel his resolve crumbling. she’s intoxicating—not just because she’s beautiful, not because she had eros magic in her veins, but because it’s her. because she sees him, more than anyone ever has.

she sees the slump in his shoulders, the fake grin that he plasters on every time he leaves his cabin, the sparkle that left his eyes. she sees everything and she still loves him.

and when she finally kissed him, slow and deep, it feels less like temptation and more like surrender.

percy stiffens for half a second caught between, unfamiliarity and instinct. but then she lazily deepens the kiss, swiping her tongue along the seam of his lips, slow and sure, like she could do this all night, like she just wants to him to feel.

and gods does he feel it.

his hands find their way to her waist, hesitant but firm as his fingers pressed lightly into the fabric of her white summer dress. she’s warm, so warm and her body molds into his like waves meeting shore. it’s not rushed or urgent like a hookup behind a cabin, but careful, intentional.

when she finally pulls back (because percy would rather lose all air than pull away first) their bertha’s mingle in the short space between them. perxy doesn’t dare open his eyes too soon, like he’s trying to hold onto whatever just passed between them, like he’s afraid the moment could slip away.

“percy.” she murmurs and he can hear the smile in her voice. her fingers are still tangled in his hair, the pads of her thumb brushing against his shark cheekbone.

he forces his eyes open. there is no teasing in her eyes. no sly smirk or playful glint—just something soft and totally unguarded, something percy isn’t even sure he deserves.

“you don’t have to carry everything alone.” she promises.

his throat tightens and he almost laughs at the simplicity in her phrase. instead it comes out as a shark exhale “you make it sound easy,” he mutters.

“it’s not.” she shifts on his lap and percy was suddenly terrified of the prospect that she was going to leave. though, she only pulls him closer, her hands resting on the back of his neck. “but it’s gets a lot easier when you let someone in.”

percy wants to argue—but he can’t find the words. the way he always feels like he has to be the protector, the saviour, the person who makes the hard choices. it’s been like this since he was twelve when he first attacked that minotaur and decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he cared about get hurt again.

but sitting here with her, under the quiet pool of the moon and the lull of the tide. he doesn’t feel like a hero, not even a hero. he just feels like a scared teenage boy.

“i don’t know how to do that.” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

she smile sadly, not in pity, but in understanding for she had felt the same way countless times before. “that’s okay. you don’t have to know everything, perce.”

she cups his face, her touch achingly gentle, like he’s trying to memorise the shape of him. percy leans into her warmth before he could try to stop himself, he doesn't realise how much he’s needed this. not the kiss, not the closeness, but the feel of someone stripping away all of his protective layers and seeing the person underneath. choosing him, not for his abilities but for who is his.

maybe that’s why, when she pressed her lips to his again, he doesn’t hesitate.

this time he lets himself kiss her back like he means it.

[knox-knocks]

Thinking about wymack trying to break the news to the rookie kid about their problems with the japanese mafia without scaring him off the team only for the rookie kid to have his very own ties to a different but related gang is too fucking funny to me

[happypeachsludgeflower]

There’s just something very satisfying about Percy beating up the god of war.. and Poseidon calling said god a moron.

[maldeldest]

"Iroh only saw Zuko as a replacement for his dead son"

Me:

[tediousmalcontentt]

Jean Moreau has suffered more than Jesus

[tiredbread]

my gift for @charlilil for the @naddpodgifting exchange inspired by their animation 'three hot dudes' and general love of the bon freres

this is what i imagine happens after the summer shenanigans and they actually get a day on the beach. exact same level of pettiness and sidebars as when they were actually under duress lol

[1800-lemon-boy]

While I love the thought process of Percy’s distaste for ares and love for Annabeth were both too strong for Hera herself to remove from Percy’s mind-

You all are missing a much funnier alternative…

Hera was unable to wipe Annabeth from Percy’s brain ✔️

Hera was also unable to wipe the distaste towards ares as it was one of the first times he genuinely didn’t like the gods.

Hera finds it fucking hilarious that the literal god of war lost a fight to a literal 12 year old and wanted to remind ares that he could never live that down. ✔️

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