Call Me, Percy? Valentine’s Day Edition. edit By Sophii

Hi, just want to let you know Indonesia is currently fighting against bills that are overwhemingly anti-abortion, pro-corruption leeway, pro-deforestation for palm oil industry, papua-colonializing etc. And just like Hong Kong, the police are abusing the college-age protesters.

Not to mention, there is huge forest fire in Sumatra which is most likely similar to Amazon case, where it is deliberately lit for corporate's interest.

Please show your support by reblogging and sharing the news.

Thank you.

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Annabeth doesn’t show up at work the next day. Or the next. Or even the day after that. By Thursday, Percy feels himself going a little crazy from resisting the urge to reach out and ask if everything is okay. But he knows he’s said his piece and, really, there’s nothing more he’d like to add. 

Except that’s a lie.

He wants to tell her every single thing he loves about her. The way this love came in light rainfall, gently soothing his skin as she’d laugh and dig her toes into his thigh while they watched a movie. The way it crashed over him, stealing every breath in one, terrifying instant as she ran her fingers down his back while they kissed. The way it laps at every inch of his being even now, persistent, constant, and unyielding. 

Thankfully, any time he feels the desire to text even the shortest of messages, Percy lets either Grover or Rachel take his phone from him. Mainly Grover. Every time he looks at Rachel, he can’t help but feel guilty, even if earlier that week Rachel had told him about someone down in the warehouse department who she’s been talking to, and maybe even more so after learning about that. It doesn’t help that he also has to fight a wave of bitterness rising in his throat every time he glances over at Annabeth’s desk — which happens way more times than he’d like to admit — and consequently remembers their argument from that weekend. 

All in all, Percy desperately wishes to go back to the way things were. Hell, he’d even take the antagonism that had existed between the two of them, anything but this silence, this dreadful not knowing.

It snows that night. Heavy, wet, thick snowflakes that melt as soon as they touch skin, yet somehow stay perfectly formed on top of his curly hair. It only serves to deepen the already-present chill within his bones. He fumbles with his key with cold fingers as he opens the door and shucks his jacket off with a short huff. Usually getting back to his apartment would feel like a blessing after such a long work day and such a windy evening, but he can’t find the energy to find that feeling tonight. All he has are empty space and dark rooms before him, and Percy can only remember to lock the door behind him before sinking to the ground, utterly exhausted.

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This is the biggest news to come out of the 2020 election so far!!!!

**Two Senate runoff elections in Georgia means WE CAN STILL TAKE BACK THE SENATE!**

WE CAN THE SENATE RIGHT OUT OF MITCH MCCONNELL’S DISTURBINGLY PURPLE HANDS.

**It’s a long shot, but if Democrats win both seats, the Senate will be 50-50.**

If you live in Georgia, go to votesaveamerica.com/register to register to vote if you haven’t already. Then remind three friends to register or check their registration and VOTE AGAIN! The special election for both seats will be on January 5th. 

Everyone else, get ready to organize/volunteer/call every single voter in Georgia! Let’s take back the Senate!

percabeth + in the storm?? if u want to ofc💞💞💞

It’s an innocent thing, dancing in the rain. At a certain point you resign yourself to being soaked to the bone, and you take this moment to turn your face to the grey sky, to dance in the face of a force of nature. 

Percy and Annabeth are caught in such a storm on their way to Annabeth’s dorm. Initially they attempt to wait it out at Sally’s, but between Annabeth’s strict curfew and Percy’s water powers, the usual excuses to stay in for the night don’t hold up for long. 

He walks her back with their fingers laced and wrists crossed as always, but it serves more of a purpose now. Raindrops skirt around the couple, or maybe they hit an invisible barrier above them to keep out of the way. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the way the storm clouds reflect in Annabeth’s eyes. 

She’s several minutes into a rant about columns and arches that Percy lost track of after ten seconds, but he tries to keep up, to find something to quote back to her when she ends up repeating herself. Her face will soften, she’ll bite her bottom lip the way she does when she’s flustered, and Percy’s brain turning to mush from the mental gymnastics necessary to keep up with her will be worth it. 

Ideally, he could do that now. But she’s just so radiant even in a gloomy city; the sun has abandoned New York for the time being, but Annabeth is bright enough to light it all up. 

Unable to stop himself, Percy tugs on her hand and pulls her to him, interrupting her rant with a kiss. Terrible manners, but judging by the content hum in the back of Annabeth’s throat, she’ll forgive him. 

Annabeth pulls Percy closer, pressing up on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck. She always does this after she gets passionate about something, even when Percy has the self-control to watch her without interrupting. When he asked, she said it was the way he looked at her. That was the extent of her explanation, but Percy has seen the way people look at beautiful things: all softness, slack jaw, and twinkling eyes. It’s hard to imagine himself looking at her with anything less. 

Rain is the last thing on Percy’s mind when he’s got Annabeth so close—he swears that girl does things to his brain. All at once, his shield fails and cold rain seeps into their clothes. 

Annabeth yelps and jumps back, then turns to Percy with a glare that is somehow both endeared and murderous. Like any sane person, he bolts. 

She takes off after him as he sprints in the direction of her dorm. Water pelts Percy’s face, rejuvenating him until his stride overtakes Annabeth’s, much to her fury. He’s able to plant himself in the concrete and catch her, using her momentum to throw her over his shoulder in victory. 

She nearly takes his eye out with a flailing shoe, so he settles for putting her down long enough to tug her close again and to splash in the puddles for some ridiculous dance. This time she’s all endearment; joy splits her face in a grin as water falls into her eyes, her gaze fixed on Percy. 

They dance in the rain like fools for the whole block to see. People holed up in their apartments might scoff at the idiots in love on the sidewalk below, but they don’t know the joy of dancing in the rain. Carefree moments don’t come so easily to Percy and Annabeth, two people who care so deeply. They have to take these moments as they come. 

It’s an innocent thing, falling in love. At a certain point you resign yourself to being soaked to the bone, and you take this moment to turn your face to the grey sky, to dance in the face of a force of nature. 

lucky charms, chapter 4

The Twilight Zone

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

People came easily to Luke.

That was not to say people generally liked him, necessarily. Some would say he had his father’s charm and his mother’s once beautiful features, and that was why he’d always attracted a crowd, but Luke hadn’t been his parents’ son in a long while. He was every bit the thief his father was and, like his mother, could see far past what was presented, but everything he’d built for himself had been from the ground up.

Even by demigod standards, Luke was the son of one of the lamest gods in Olympus- he wasn’t great with his hands like Annabeth, and he definitely couldn’t control lightning the way Thalia could. All Luke had was people. He could tell, for the most part, what buttons to push to upset, to anger, to flatter, to confuse; that was Luke’s talent. He was a pickpocket, a sleight of hand artist, and like most cynical, petty crooks, nothing slipped past him.

Luke understood how people worked. Understood what the flutter of an eyelid or a trembling lip meant, understood just how much tension in the brow separated grief and aggression. Above all, Luke understood that people were always exactly as they were not- playing a game of charades against the rest of the world as though that might protect them, in some way, from her jagged edges.

He’d always been too clever for his own good.

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Please, reblog! IIt’s called self defense. Apart from having here, in the US, one of the highest cases of homicide and rape in the world and high rate of GBV, think about how this could help your mother or sister

im gonna say it, and if youre white you do not get to comment, but in regards to that j-siper pocahontas au and the people in the comments of that post calling op out for whitewashing piper, i feel like we are focusing on the wrong thing here. just a little bit. the au itself is fucking abhorrent because it puts piper in the position of a girl, pocahontas, who was barely a teenager when she was kidnapped, sexually assaulted, married to a man against her will, and in the end, she died extremely young, and very far away from her home and family. disney took that story and romanticized the fuck out of it, to the point where it is unrecognizable. this movie perpetuates violence against native women. stop fucking making pocahontas j-siper aus.

and they were roommates (chapter nine)

At a certain point Annabeth can’t be expected to keep her hands to herself. 

Sure, maybe her definition of keeping her hands to herself is questionable (her friends sure seem to think so), but there are boundaries. Some things she can’t bring herself to do without some sort of sign from Percy. And not the cosmic sort of listen-to-the-universe sign that Piper keeps finding—a concrete encouragement, something Annabeth can hold in her hands. 

She doesn’t get one until mid-February.

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Tom Holland does Rihanna’s “Umbrella” on Lip Sync Battle