The Only Valid Part Of That Outtake Is Percy Liking Spicy Food. Latino Percy Confirmed!

that was the best episode by FAR and here’s why:

1. annabeth instinctually knowing he’s alive and refusing to lose her faith in him even when grover, the one with the empathy link, didn’t believe so.

2. the hug. the overwhelming relief on her face. his pleasantly surprised reaction. us being able to see everything visually click in grover’s head once he realized what he’s in for. percy teasing her about it when they’re hiding on the highway bc he assumes that’s why she’s being standoffish. grover heaving and rolling his eyes when percy suggests that. i can already envision the MoA parallels in my head of them running to each other.

3. percy and annabeth referring to each other as friends on multiple occasions like FINALLY you’re getting it

4. percy telling annabeth and grover about his revelation that the quest goes deeper than they think and annabeth and grover being light years ahead of him

5. percy’s renewed faith in his father contrasted with annabeth’s dwindling faith in her mother

6. annabeth seeing the fates cut a string and mentally preparing herself to sacrifice herself for her friends and the quest bc she’s so ride or die for them it’s insane even if she’ll deny it and say it’s for the sake of the quest.

7. none of them talking to gods with the deference they’re supposed to. annabeth cooly staring down ares like she couldn’t be blasted to smithereens.

8. annabeth casually mentioning she’s never seen a movie ever to an appalled percy, speaking to how sheltered camp life has been for the last 5 years, making her unaware of general pop culture. percy promising to catch her up on what she’s missing out on. cut to their interrupted botl movie date that’s most definitely not a date. cut to MoA when she mentions roman holiday is her favorite movie bc she watched it a lot with her dad after they somewhat reconciled…also due in part to percy.

9. annabeth getting distracted by the beauty of the machine at the entrance while percy thinks he is actively going to die. her love for design will never not be endearing.

9. percy and annabeth riding down the tunnel of love seeing hephaestus’s story play out and annabeth insisting that sally prepared him the best way she could’ve—with unwavering loyalty to his loved ones, the antithesis to the gods.

10. annabeth being so ready to sacrifice herself for him, especially after probably being ridden with guilt and self-hatred for letting him get the best of her at the gateway arch, and understanding he would never let her do that. his pure faith in her as being the most capable—“You’re better at this than me. You just are.” with the utmost conviction in his voice. both of them tearing up and percy begging her to do what he originally chose her on the quest for. annabeth fighting back every instinct within her that despises standing back and letting someone else take the fall. him turning to her and saying “i need you to promise me something” and her immediately swearing if she’s able to save anyone on this quest, it’ll be his mother, knowing that’s the most important thing to him in all of this. him asking she come back for him and her scoffing “you think you had to ask?” and his sad watery smile back, knowing he didn’t need to….ALSO the ever-iconic “seaweed brain”. PEAK cinema i’m telling you

11. percy trusting annabeth with riptide as his parting gift and thing to give her strength and remember him by. paralleled with how she’ll (hopefully) untie her camp necklace and tie it around his neck before his final fight with ares as a token of good luck and entrusting him with the home she wore around her throat…

12. the well-written conversations with the gods, though unexpected. grover being FAR more clever than he’s given credit for, manipulating ares’s tendency towards anger, bitterness, and pride to get what he wanted out of him. annabeth rejecting hephaestus’s promises of power and glory and the renewal of her mother’s favoritism and pride, something annabeth used to crave with her entire heart. annabeth echoing to hephaestus what she said to percy in the tunnel about him not being like the rest of their godly family and telling the god that she refuses to be like them too. that the way they treat each other and their children isn’t right, the same way percy insisted to her last episode. hephaestus being one of the only gods capable of empathizing with her and telling her “you’re a good kid, annabeth. i’ll put in a good word with your mom for you.” no one speak to me i’m unwell

13. timothy omundson in general…although i keep hearing him as lassie in my head 😭

14. ares negging on them and warning percy his dad’s mind is as fickle as the sea itself and percy won’t be able to hold down his father’s favor and percy responding by threatening the literal god of war in the most percy-like fashion

15. ares didn’t call twitter X. but now we know who’s behind the mentally ill stan wars

things they really didn’t need to change:

1. the one thing i am really miffed about it is them robbing thief annabeth from my cold, dead hands. i wanted to see her raid a store without a second thought and be a little gremlin!!! she has hermes’s influence all over her (thanks luke/being a runaway), let us see it!!!

2. percy and annabeth being slightly awkward at the entrance of the thrill ride of love didn’t carry the same humor as the book scene because they’re such children about it in tlt and annabeth is extremely flustered but we don’t see that here.

3. aphrodite’s scarf. it was a fun detail they could’ve kept. seeing percy making heart eyes would’ve been funny (and maybe a glimpse into future seasons)

4. percy seeing a clip of gabe being gabe and saying “im going to kill him” is merely a NUGGET of the hatred we should be seeing from percy for that man. especially in area’s presence which feeds off of and amplifies everybody’s anger and hatred and bloodlust. there still needs to be more build up to turning gabe to stone at the end of all this

5. percy blacking out from using his powers to get him and annabeth out of the water. while he’s nowhere close to being a master at his craft at this point in the books, and he is known to lose control, even as a more seasoned warrior, i don’t think what he did warranted a blackout. i feel like they’re underselling his innate strength a little bit.

6. overall, although it kind of worked out, there was just a lot of plot deviation from the books—grover not going to waterland, no mechanical spiders, percy and annabeth not jumping out the ride into free fall and being saved by grover wearing maia, although they crash into a billboard etc etc.

George Floyd. asphyxiated until he died in Minneapolis, he beg and said that he couldn't breath. a cop had his knee on his neck. he died. the cop has been fired. no prosecuted. not charge with first degree murder.

Regis Korchinski-Paquet. pushed off her own balcony in Toronto. she died at the scene.

Tony McDade. trans man murdered in Tallahassee. the very few news that reported his murder misgender him.

Scream their names. Remember their name. Remember why they died. Remember the anger and the pain. Black Lives Matter. They have ways matter and always will. Silence is violence. Staying silent is not an option. Sign the petitions, text, send mails, donate to their memorial.

One of these is accurate for me, plz tell me I'm not alone

i think something that elevates the hunger games franchise is not just the quality of writing but the integrity of it. tbosas isn’t just a cash-grab by suzanne collins in the age of sequels and reboots (though i won’t pretend that didn’t play a part), it’s a character study of the main antagonist with a different structure than the main trilogy. and importantly, it doesn’t just re-hash the same old themes and beats the main trilogy had, it expands on not just the world of the hunger games but the themes as well, it actually has something new to say about the trilogy’s themes about class, capitalism, power, and control, in a way that couldn’t be explored with the main story because the protagonist of that story simply did not have access to the world that’s being explored in tbosas.

i understand the people who call for books/movies to be made about haymitch, finnick, johanna, different years of the games — we love those characters and want to see more of them! i’d kill for a novella on finnick’s days mentoring tributes, or katniss’s parents falling in love. but at the end of the day we probably wouldn’t be very satisfied with those stories being fleshed out if they had absolutely nothing new to say about the world, they’d be enjoyable, but not as interesting and engaging as tbosas has been.

At this point I would like to thank all the people out there who write fanfiction. I love reading stories about my favorite pairings and try to write some of my own. You are the reason why my expectations of men and women are so high and I wouldn't have it any other way. 😊❤️

i vote to have a scene where clarisse jumps luke after hearing he’s calling her the lightning thief

okay i'll say it: percy being "different" because sally taught him the myths before he knew he was a demigod is an unnecessary change. percy was never "different" because he knew the myths and thus came into the mythology world knowing how fucked up everything is. he's different because he has a strong sense of loyalty (fatal flaw). he's different because his mum loved him and he learned love and compassion and kindness from her. he's different because when the time comes, he will choose to be the demigod of the prophecy. he's different because despite the life he's had he's a good kid. he's different because he will not give respect that hasn't been earned, even if it gets him into trouble. he's not different for knowing the gods are a fucked up family and that sometimes a monster is not a monster. he's not different for not wanting kleos. in fact i think it's much more impactful if he gets to that conclusion himself, if he sees it and he comes out kinder and choosing not to continue the cycle on the other side.

also they should have let annabeth say the exposition. not just because she's the "smart one" even though she is, but because she was raised in the world of the gods since she was seven and she would absolutely have biases percy could challenge with his own choices.

you know.

like in the book richard wrote already.

i’m gonna cry it’s raining right now and i just passed by a family where both parents were without an umbrella but their kid who couldn’t have been older than like 3-4 was proudly holding this GIANT umbrella whose diameter was as tall (if not taller) as the kid. both the parents were getting absolutely drenched but u could tell the kid was just so happy to have an “adult” task and carry the umbrella themselves and i think that sacrifice is what love is all about

how do i talk about my loneliness? do i say it’s more a sense of alienation than anything else? do i want to risk naming the thing, to excavate the ruins of my old self? she is still here; a ghost, a haunting. maybe i am just made of echoes, never a real voice or an authentic sound but the remains of something. i am leaning towards the horizon like a flower towards sunlight but i am rooted. do i say that i have even forgotten how to write? words used to bubble out of me when i looked at a blank page, like freed prisoners or escape artists. now the words die on my tongue, like a betrayal. maybe i’m just tired. maybe it’s just weariness, a profound fatigue that precludes everything. i am a smudge. negative space. defined by things unspoken. wordlessness, a loaded silence. a loaded gun. how do i talk about the reasons why i cry myself to sleep at night without turning it into a cliché? how do i talk about the mood swings, the anger, the roiling mess of god-knows-what in my chest and in the pit of my stomach that i am no longer empowered by? where do i put the anger, the mourning? if not released by expression, then can i find a way to be a good cage for my restlessness? can i be a good ruler so melancholy doesn’t curdle into rage? now even the words on the page look hollow, lifeless. i realise i have been giving up for quite some time. it does not feel like relief. this whole time, i have been nursing a revolution inside me. i feel mutinous—against the world, against myself. if i cannot put my insecurities into poetry, if i cannot make my ugliness poetic, then i’m afraid there’s nothing left. do i say that sometimes i am seized by episodes of grief, facing the emptiness and silence pressing in around me, pulsing from within me, until i either suffocate from the claustrophobia or implode like a star? do i say that i am sick of trying, sick of feeling like i should give up, sick of needing to let go when holding on is the only thing i’m good at? do i say that i am a fundamentally hopeless person, oscillating between cynicism and optimism every day until i give myself whiplash? do i say that a scream has been building inside of me, drowning out the silence, perhaps even replacing it, but i do not have the freedom to voice it? do i say that my existence has been lined with incompleteness? do i say that i confuse solitude with agency, anger with redemption, and numbness with respite? do i say what i have never allowed myself to say before—that i am tension yet i persuade myself into thinking i am at peace; that i am always trapped in the push and pull of opposing inner forces, the old coward and the new fool; that i am a contradiction, egoistic yet self-effacing? my life is a perpetual attempt at reconciliation. i crave attention, recognition, care, clout—i know some part of me believes i am owed these things—yet every material accomplishment i am forced to call my own exists to negate this vision of myself, which is a delusion, at the end of the day. i think i am going insane. when push comes to shove, i stumble and fall. there is no rationalising my way out of this labyrinth of desires and dreams and disappointments. i am outlined in discrepancies, built up by expectations and then torn down by reality. is this loneliness? is keeping yourself to yourself strength or denial? the inarticulable parts of me i hate the most, yet they are a spectre that haunts me, a shadow self that i want to fistfight but am too jaded to. i am alienated from myself. i am fragmented, compartmentalised to the point of no return. i never bring my whole self towards anything; i don’t even know what wholeness is. everything matters, then none of it does. i am in limbo, neither heaven nor hell but a kind of purgatory, a small place where only i exist. it’s the solipsism of the depressed that i take refuge in, and at the same time want to disavow. is this loneliness, then? being too ashamed of these unflattering details of yourself to voice them out, so you have to carry them like a burden, and it ends up defining who you are anyway?