I Need This

mob au: research 

Jason hates to admit it, but the city library is, hands down, the most beautiful building in the whole city. It’s three stories of white marble and reflective glass surrounded by lush green gardens that have the local botanical society swooning year round, create an oasis in the heart of the downtown district that cannot be beaten. Olive trees line the long walk way up to a series of grand walnut doors hand carved with depictions of wildlife that look so real they might jump right off the wood, giving anyone who approaches the air of a grand entrance.

Leaning against one of the building’s imposing Doric columns, Jason looks out at all the people enjoying the lawn, having picnics and playing with their dogs and he can’t help but remember Luke’s words about Annabeth not being the villain he thinks she is. Watching the people of his city that he has taken an oath to protect, the thought that maybe he’s right begins to creep in, but before it can settle, his shoulder is being bumped, pulling him from his thoughts. He frowns and looks up to find his partner, Reyna, donning her signature brown leather jacket over a royal purple blouse.

“Took you long enough,” Jason teases.

“Some of us actually have a life, Grace,” she says with another nudge.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, let’s do this.”

He leads the way into the library, stopping abruptly to read a golden plaque that marks the main entrance:

This library could not have been possible without the generous support of local businesswoman, Athena Pallas. The passion Ms. Pallas has for Greek architecture and the pursuit of knowledge were the foundations of this project and this city will forever be in her debt.

Reyna scoffs, “Businesswoman is quite the generous title.”

“No kidding,” Jason adds.

The detectives enter the library and neither of them can help but be awed by the interior’s beauty. The slight gleam of the gold leaf crown molding catches their eyes, their eyeline following down the wall to the bookcases with delicate owl carvings and the olive leaf patterned carpeting.

“At least she had taste,” Jason says in a low voice.

Reyna shrugs. “I prefer a Roman aesthetic myself, but this isn’t too bad if you like the Greek thing.”

continue on ao3

http://therapyforblackgirls.com 

reblog to save a life

fic is up!!!!!

title: ‘cause you’ve been sinning in this city

summary: In which Percy finds a soulmate who doesn’t believe in the concept, consequently goes through the various ups and down of losing and finding said soulmate again, struggles to name his cat, and tries to answer some of life’s most unanswerable questions. College is definitely not supposed to be this hard, probably.

pairing: percy/annabeth

genre: honestly????????? part angst part crack

word count: 46,000+ (IM SORRY)

other: IM VERY SORRY

links: ao3 || ffnet

i am no orpheus

percabeth | angst with a happy ending | 4k | commissioned by @random-hallucinations 

major character death but not really

Ω

Hubris and loyalty. Fatal.

When Percy and Annabeth’s wars are won and the prophecies are about other people, it’s almost easy to forget. Hubris becomes Annabeth refusing to admit she’s wrong. Loyalty becomes Percy’s tendency to put the needs of others before his own. Peace lulls memory into rest, slowing the mind and the heart until they are fickle things. Peace itself is a fickle thing.

They still train—they are still demigods. War is in their blood, running through their veins alongside humanity and divinity. It’s never over.

Cold rain pelts Annabeth’s skin, soaking through her t-shirt and jean shorts. Her boots slip in the mud as she hauls a petrified fourteen-year-old girl toward Half-Blood Hill, brandishing her Drakon-bone sword to ward off the hellhounds in the surrounding woods. Their presence is scarce save a muddy paw print or a pair of gleaming red eyes in the treeline.

It’s not the hellhounds Annabeth is afraid of; she’s killed more of them than she cares to count. It’s the reason the hellhounds won’t move in, the looming figure shaking the slick earth with heavy footfalls.

read on AO3

“you didn’t need to do this” + any ship !!!

Percy tests the weight of the present Annabeth has just pressed into his hands, rolling it over to see if it’ll give any indication of what’s inside. Whatever it is must be held down as thoroughly as the wrapping paper, which is more scotch tape than decoration. A fresh breeze blows off the Atlantic, rustling the stray curls that hang from Annabeth’s twin braids. August smiles kindly on her as it always has, with sunlight dripping down the contours of her body. Summer doesn’t shine on anyone else quite as gracefully. 

Annabeth’s hands fly out to cover Percy’s as he raises the present to his ear. “Maybe don’t shake it.” 

Percy freezes, noting the way she worries her bottom lip. He’s known her to be many things over the years, and nervous isn’t often one of them. “Annabeth. What did you get me?” 

“Open it and see for yourself.” 

When the paper and tape give away, Percy holds a cardboard box with a picture of his dream camera on the front—a dream in the truest sense of the word, given that he’s never said it aloud due to the long odds of ever get his hands on one. 

He must be silent for too long, because Annabeth shifts on the towel next to him. There’s still time for her to break composure and laugh, to tell him this is all a prank and tear open the box to reveal a gag gift on the inside. 

Instead she says, “I don’t know much about photography, but my dad has some connections through his university and they said this was the best for land and sea, so it won’t fry like your old one.” The words come out hastily, stumbling over each other in their rush to escape. 

Salt air whistles in Percy’s empty lungs. He doesn’t have the words for this—for her. “You didn’t need to do this.” 

That straightens her spine with a flash of defiance that melts away the nervousness, igniting the righteous spark in her eyes that Percy loves. “No, but I wanted to.” She jabs her thumb between his furrowed brows. “Don’t give me that guilty look. It’s my money and I’m going to spend it on my favorite person if I want to, especially on his birthday.” 

“You know I can’t accept this.” 

“Would you buy it for yourself?” 

“Annabeth.” 

“Answer the question.” 

“Yeah in like, five years. But I can’t—” 

“Nope.” Annabeth scrambles upright, spraying Percy with sand. “You’ll have to catch me first.” 

With that, she dashes down the shore without looking back. In a microcosm of the entire decade of their friendship, Percy grumbles and gives chase. The beach is empty, giving him peace of mind as he burrows the camera in their clothes before taking off. 

Annabeth is too many strides ahead, her braids taunting Percy each time her feet strike the sand. Time moves slowly, suspended in the afterglow of a summer spent just like this, running after the girl too golden to be true. 

Just as Percy starts to think it’s a hopeless pursuit, she veers into the water, stumbling through the waves and diving as soon as it’s deep enough. Percy plunges in after her, never more grateful for his years on the high school swim team than when he wraps an arm around her waist after a few strokes. 

They’re still close enough to shore to stand, the water rising to their heaving chests which are mere inches apart. It’s just deep enough for Annabeth to struggle to keep her lips above the swell of the waves, so Percy keeps holding on. Aside from that, he doesn’t know what to do. He wasn’t expecting to catch her, let alone hold her. 

Annabeth tilts her head westward. “Sun’s setting,” she notes, her ribcage swelling under Percy’s palms. “It’d make a good picture.” 

Percy doesn’t have to look to know she’s right, though the shot he’s thinking is more portrait than landscape. The sky is alight with a palette of orange, pink, and yellow cast on the clouds, like the only grey thing allowed in this photograph are Annabeth’s eyes. Her face is smooth, an uninterrupted line of shadow cupping her cheekbone down to her neck. There is just as much to be said for her shadows as for her light—it’s the contrast with each that makes the other. 

A particularly tall wave slaps their shoulders in an attempt to pull Annabeth away. Percy adjusts his grip and tugs her closer, one hand on the back of her thigh as her legs hook around his waist. Neither of them misses their simultaneous sharp inhale; they just can’t make out what it means. 

Annabeth’s hands trace a brave path along Percy’s shoulders, collecting droplets of water with a light touch. “You can pay me back for it. One dollar a month.” 

“Annabeth...that’s—” 

“The rest of our lives? I know.” She runs her fingertips along the back of his neck with a smile glimmering like the sunlight on the waves. “That’s how long I’m hoping to keep you for.” 

They come together slowly, creeping together as the sun kisses the horizon with the same soft touch. Waves part as they pass, looking to flow through space between them that no longer exists. Every inch of skin presses together, held in place by desperate hands dimpling the soft flesh underneath. All their lives have lead them toward this moment in one consistent arc across the sky, traveling west to finally collide. 

Percy pulls back to take a mental snapshot, afraid of losing the memory of the the rise and fall of Annabeth’s chest against his and all the movement a camera cannot capture. Language does not leave much space in the brain for memory, and so it is the first thing to go as he takes her in.

“Perce,” she says, colored with a mix of vulnerable and smug only she could wear well. “I’m gonna need you to say something.” 

“They’re all going to be of you.” 

“What?” 

“The pictures.” One of his hands leaves her thigh to flirt with the edge of her jaw, the ridge that divides light and shadow. He watches her through the new lens of new love and presses his smile into her skin with the same delicate touch of August. “They’re all going to be of you.” 

People in Gaza have been saying this would happen since the very start, as soon as the occupation started corralling everyone into the southern part of the strip they said this would happen. We watched it happen as the “safe” zones grew smaller and smaller and every time Rafah was targeted by air strikes even before this. And no one who could actually stop this lifted a finger. It’s been 129 days.

~

The Chase cousins decide to try a double date, after everyone is done with midterms and there’s a little down time. Unfortunately, demigods.

~

I cried four times at work today because it was my fifth graders’ last day at our school and tomorrow is my last day at my current campus, so I decided to fic in order to not cry more. Also, these two couples are way too funny not to put together.

~

November 1st, 9AM

Annabeth forgets that Percy is sleeping next to her.

Annabeth forgets that Percy is naked in the bed next to her.

Which is why, when she rolls over and runs into something solid and warm, she wakes herself with a yelp and half falls off the bed.

“Wuzza – ‘Beth?” Percy sits up, throws an arm around her waist, and hauls her back onto her bed. “Why are you slapping me awake?”

“I didn’t mean to,” she replies, feeling her face burn red. “I kind of forgot you were here.”

Keep reading

16. “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” love you and your writing!! ♡♡

[ichor group au] 

“Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” Percy whispers sweetly as he slips his arms around Annabeth’s waist, placing a kiss to her cheek.

Annabeth slides her hands on top of Percy’s, amazed at how warmth always seems to radiate off of him, and leans back into his arms. Gently, she leans her head into his and smiles as she notes how the light of the moon makes her engagement ring gleam.

“Why are you so good to me?” she asks, her voice quiet.

She feels him shrug before he answers. “How else do you treat the love of your life?”

Annabeth pulls Percy’s arms tighter around her middle, finding comfort in the steadiness of his touch. “I never thought I’d have this.”

“Well you do,” Percy says with confidence. “For always.”

Annabeth laughs as she turns around to face Percy, linking her hands around his neck as he links his at the small of her back.

“For always, huh?”

He nods, a childlike grin lighting up his face. “Yup. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Now answer the question.”

“What question?” she asks, playing dumb.

Percy doesn't waver. “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?”

She looks at him, from the deep green of his eyes to the solid lines of his jaw and the perfect curve of his smile until she can’t help but kiss him on his perfectly soft lips. Pulling away, she feels her heart skip a beat at the way Percy’s long eyelashes flutter as he opens his eyes.

“Hmm,” she says pensively. “I guess to answer that I have to ask you a question of my own.”

“What’s that?” he says with a curious squint.

“Do you think the sun is jealous of how my world completely revolves around you?”

She can practically hear the air leave Percy’s lungs as he watches her with awe and reverence. Her gravitational force soon proves to be too strong, and there under the light of the full moon they transform into the sea and shore, crashing into each other with abandon.

Hey, I don’t acknowledge a lot of things on this blog Ik, but this is truly important and something which not many people will hear about cause my country is fucked up. So, hear me out

I’m Mexican and I live in in the state where most feminicides (people killing women just because they are women) occur. Mexico City which is couple kilometres from here is the second one and so on. Mexico’s feminicide rate is worrying to a point you might think authorities are doing something, right? Well, no.

Let me tell you about some atrocious feminicides:

Minerva, she was one of the first victims, if not, the first of this year. She visited some family to celebrate New Year with a guy named Fernando. When they returned to her house late at night, she was stabbed by Fernando, killing her and leaving her on the floor. She was 42

María del Pilar, she lived in Guanajuato (one of the many states we have) with her boyfriend; they had gone out to buy some groceries. She had received threats from her ex boyfriend. She was buying bread and milk when one guy on a motorcycle came and started shooting at the air. She ran and hid in a store but the guy found her and when she tried to escape, he shot her in the face and ran away.

Isabel Cabanillas de la Torre, she was 26, had a four years old kid, she was an entrepreneur and an artist. She was part of a campaign which focused on defending women’s rights and the fight against feminicides. Her friends and family shared on social media she was missing and two days later, she was found dead in the center of Ciudad Juarez, in some place known as “El corredor seguro para mujeres”. She was shot dead in the chest various times.

Ingrid Escamilla, she was 25 and after fighting with her boyfriend, he decided that the best thing to do was killing her. He stabbed her and skinned her from the head to the knees, he removed several organs and threw them in the toilet and the sewer. The media not having any empathy, published the photos of what had happened, you could literally see Ingrid’s skinned body on first page everywhere.

10 women are murdered in Mexico every day. We want to live, we want to laugh, we want to be safe and the people we should trust, the government is doing nothing!

Our president is...I don’t have words to describe him. But things he has done? 0. Women had told him the situation Mexico is going through, they had asked for help and he has minimised the problem saying we make a big deal out of what’s actually happening. Mexico is a big joke to the rest of the world right now because he’s selling the presidential plane...Wait, but he’s not, the plane’s on lottery tickets. Yeah, you could win the fucking plane if you had the luck.

So, we as women decided that no one but us were going to do something. Since yesterday we’ve been doing stuff.

On March 7, women across the country did a human chain, protesting against what has happened.

Today, we’re gonna march for kilometres protesting about all the women we lost along the way. The one that have disappeared, the ones we didn’t know anything of. For the ones we’re still waiting to come home. For the ones we know are dead but not gone nor forgotten. But guess what? There has been threats, people wanting to hurt women with acid and some awful things.

And on March 9, we’re disappearing. We’re not going out, we’re staying home pretending we’re gone. This movement is called “Un día sin mujeres” (A day without women). So people can see the impact it would have if all of us just disappear.

We have manifested before, maybe you saw the pictures of monuments which were “vandalised”.

But all of that happened after women went to the police and only received harassment. All of that happened when our voices were not heard. And peace stopped being the right way to manifest.

Cause maybe you have seen Mexico after protests, because those are the only pictures anyone has. But, have you seen the ones where there is no “violence” against monuments?

The first photo was taken in Mexico City, the fountain known as “Diana Cazadora” (Huntress Diana) surprised everyone with red waters.

The second one is known as Minerva. A fountain in Jalisco where of course, many women are killed and disappeared everyday.

They water turned red for all the blood which has been shed. And few hours later, they were “fixed”

Or, let me show you an altar made also in Mexico City.

I was there and not even one reporter took photos. It was an altar for some of the women. And the second one? It is one of the most emblematic monuments in the city. “Ángel de la independencia” (Independence Angel). The altar was there and why is it like that? Since one of the protest it’s been like that under “reparations” truth be told, it’s the government’s way to tell us that we can’t do anything to monuments for they are covered and protected.

Yup, our government protects monuments way more than the citizens.

Please, take a moment to read this.

angst, 11, “why are you still fighting?” 😢

[canon adjacent I guess, I don’t really know]

The enemy encircles Percy, who is on his knees, bloody and beaten. Demigods and monsters alike sneer and spit at him, calling him every awful thing they can think of. The son of Poseidon doesn’t move. He keeps his chin held high and looks forward, still gripping his sword in his hand, as if waiting for one last battle to begin.

Before him, the crowd begins to part, and soon the prodigal son of Hermes appears in front of him. Luke’s stride is slow and confident, with his sword sheathed at his hip. He looks down his nose at Percy, an evil smirk pinning the corner of his mouth to his cheek.

“Well, Percy, I tried to warn you that it would come to this,” Luke says as he stands over Percy.

Percy takes a shaky breath, his grip on Riptide tightening. “I’ve never been great at listening.”

“How many of your friends have you watched die?” Luke asks, pity in his voice.

“Too many,” Percy answers, his voice hoarse.

“And how many more would you watch die before you just surrender?”

Percy’s jaw tightens and he swallows hard, his green eyes losing focus.

Luke surges forward to bend down and grab fistfuls of Percy’s shirt. “Why are you still fighting?” Luke shouts in his face.

Percy lets out a small laugh, but a tear runs down his cheek. “Because being angry isn’t enough for me,” he answers.

Luke pushes Percy away with a frustrated grunt, his face contorting in disgust. “You think I wanted any of this?”

“I think you want all of it,” Percy replies. “You want to see everything burn because you’ve convinced yourself that once it does, you’ll finally feel peace. But the thing about fire, Luke, is that it’s never satisfied.”

Luke scoffs. “Don’t tell me, son of Poseidon, that you’re using that corny metaphor to tell me you’re here to put the fire out.”

Percy smiles, and his green eyes shine in the light of the torches his enemies bare all around him. “That’s a little corny, even for me,” he admits. “No, I’m… I’m here to make things right, finally.”

“And how are you gonna do that?”

Percy looks down at his sword, tilting his head curiously. “We started this together. It only seems right we end it together.”

The crowd around them becomes quiet and tense, as nervous murmurs begin to replace overconfident cheers.

Luke draws his sword and twirls it in his hand. “You never could beat me in a sword fight.”

Percy smiles again, and, still kneeling, places Riptide’s point on the ground in front of him. “I came close a few times, though, didn’t I?”

“There’s no ocean for miles, Percy,” Luke taunts. “There’s no way for you to heal. I’m afraid close to beating me is all you’ll ever get.”

“Pop quiz, Luke.” Percy says, raising Riptide just above his head. “When my dad’s obnoxious titles get rattled off, what’s the first one people say?”

Luke only has a minute to register the question, answering under his breath. “Earthshaker.”

Percy drives his sword’s tip into the earth,  

and the ground 

                             around them

                                                     c r u m b l e s.