Help If You Can

The Olympic Tribune 

Leaving Los Angeles had never been in Piper’s plan, but a torrid affair with an actor and a classic car taking a nose dive into a swimming pool had chased her across the country to seek refuge.

Being out of a proper big city had been a hard transition at first, but after six months, Piper felt she was finally getting into a groove. Her apartment wasn’t far from downtown, a simple studio that she rented from a nice old lady, and she had finally perfected her morning routine: A bagel from Demeter’s Dough Bakery, a coffee from Hestia’s Hearth Cafe, and on the odd morning when she actually woke up on time, it included a walk through a small park in the neighborhood to say hello to the swans.

The Coeus building, which stood twelve stories tall and had a panoramic view of the city, was home to The Olympic Tribune, a well respected paper in the great state of New York. Founded the same year as the city of Olympic Harbor, the paper had always been a paragon of journalistic integrity, which is part of what attracted Piper to it so much. Well, that and the fact that they were the only paper out of twelve she applied to who called her back.  

The paper was housed on the building’s top floor, the editor’s office taking up the south east corner and facing the city’s namesake harbor which was dotted with the countless ships that used it daily.  

“This story is big,” Piper said as she looked out at the water, her arms crossed. “And I have a reliable source, the info is good.”

“Piper,” the editor began. “I respect your instincts, but you’re not here to be an investigative journalist.”

“Investigative journalist is a bit of an oxymoron, don’t you think, Lee?”

Lee Fletcher, who had been editor at the paper for ten years, rolled his eyes and joined Piper at the window. “Believe me when I say this story is not worth it, Piper.”

“So you admit there is a story there,” she said mischievously.

“The only thing I’m admitting is that you’re out of bounds.”  

“You sound scared,” she said, her tone inquisitive.

“And you sound naive,” Lee said, turning to her. “A story like this will never get printed in this paper. So do yourself a favor and drop it before you get dropped.”

“Are you saying you’re gonna fire me?” she asked, her tone playful as she tugged on his tie.

“No,” he said, pulling his tie from her hand. “I’m saying you’re new here, and there’s things about this city you don’t know yet.”

“Well then why don’t you enlighten me.”

Lee shook his head and sat back down in his brown leather chair, keeping his eyes on the city’s landscape as he began to squeeze the life out of a stress ball. “There’s a gallery opening Saturday night and the who’s-who of the city will all be there. Pick up your press pass from Mitchell, and grab a photographer to go with you. I’d recommend Lacy, she’s great with the blue bloods.”

“So what I’m hearing you say is keep covering my beat and bring you this mob story once I’ve got more of the info vetted.”

“Piper,” he said in a warning tone.

Piper walked briskly out of the office, waving to Lee as she went. “Great talk, boss!”

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mob au: the visit 

It’s a perfect Sunday morning by the pool, and Annabeth can’t help but be mesmerized by the shine of her engagement ring. It twinkles with a shade of blue she’s only seen before in Caribbean waters and she thinks the pool should be ashamed for even trying to keep up.

She sits at a table covered in a gorgeous breakfast spread with the local paper in hand as her fiancé swims his usual laps in the background, her ring distracting her from the article on changes to downtown parking meters.

Percy pops out of the pool, his trunks hanging low on his hips, as he begins to dry himself off with his favorite shark towel and Annabeth catches herself biting her bottom lip while watching him. Charles clears his throat as he holds up a cell phone and Annabeth shakes her head to clear it of her impure thoughts.

“It’s the warden,” Charles says, handing her the phone.

Her mood changes and her eyes narrow as she takes the phone and brings it up to her ear.

“Warden Kampe, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Percy pops a few blueberries in his mouth as he raises his eyebrows at Annabeth and mouths “you ok?” Annabeth forces a smile and winks at him, making him relax a bit as he takes a sip of orange juice and sits across from his love.

“I can be there in twenty minutes, warden.”

Annabeth stands, guilt washing over her face. “I’m sorry, baby, I have to-’”

“Work,” Percy finishes for her. “I have some photos to edit anyway.” He stands to meet her and wraps an arm around her waist, placing a playful kiss to her lips. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re done.”

Annabeth smiles against Percy’s mouth and kisses him back, her fingers curling into the hair at the back of his head. “I won’t be too long, I promise.”

She walks into the house and changes into her standard grey blouse and black pencil skirt, accompanied by her favorite pair of black heels. Gathering her curls up into a high ponytail, she watches as a couple of stray curls fall to frame her face. Lastly, she applies a dark shade of red lipstick, which her mother had always said was a woman’s greatest ally in their line of business. Lipstick sends a message, she had told Annabeth one night while braiding her hair. It draws men’s eyes and keeps them distracted, leaving you all the time in the world to do what needs to be done.  

As she steps outside with all of her armor on, she finds Charles waiting with the car door open, his face serious as if he’s anticipating some big show down. Annabeth pats him on the arm as she passes him.

“Don’t look so glum, Charles. This is gonna be fun.”

Charles shakes his head as he closes the door after her. “Poor son of a bitch,” he laughs to himself.

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May 18, 2020. João Pedro Mattos Pinto was murdered by the police IN HIS HOME in São Gonçalo, Rio de Janeiro. he was only 14. when the police murdered him, he was PLAYING in his own backyard. his house now has at least 72 bullet holes in it’s walls. and his mom’s heart has one giant hole, that one type that is impossible to be ever filled again.

this happened exactly a week before George Floyd’s murder. João Pedro was black too.

it doesn’t matter where you from. all cops are bastards. all of them. brazillian ones. us cops. even the ones from your country. all of them serve the same racist purposes. 

João Pedro should be remembered. his life and Floyd’s matter so much.

so much respect for the protesters in Minneapolis. 

Ramsey Orta, the man who recorded the footage of Eric Garner’s murder, has been released from prison.

This man has gone through so much for the criminal act of not letting a cop kill a man and face no consequences. He was jailed, an attempt was made on his life, and his efforts to be heard about the mistreatment he faced was suppressed. 

Please consider donating to The Ramsey Orta Welcome Home Fund if you have something to spare. No one should have to endure the things he has endured for demanding justice.

mob au: the island

“Woah,” Percy says. “This place is gorgeous, Annabeth.”

Annabeth smiles at the expansive mansion that stretches up to the sky before her. “It is pretty great, isn’t it?”

“It’s insane,” he says with a laugh. “And I thought your Montauk house was obnoxious.”

“You weren’t calling it obnoxious when we were having sex in every room,” she says pointedly.

“Since you brought it up, how many rooms does this house have?” he asks playfully.

Annabeth bites her bottom lip, tilting her head as she looks at the house. “Thirty-four on three levels. Thirty-five if you count the ballroom.”

“You’d have to be an idiot to not count the ballroom.”

Annabeth laughs, relaxed and at peace in a way that she’s only ever felt around Percy.

“Well, c’mon,” he says, playfully pulling her towards the house. “We are way behind schedule.”

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To all the dumb-as-rocks people in the Palestine tag blaming the pro-Palestine Americans, arabs and muslim people for Kamala’s disastrous loss, rather than blaming the Democratic Party and the way they’ve been handling every issue while they’ve been in power. Yes, including funding a genocide in Palestine.

Riptide Chapter 11 

“This feels like a bad idea,” Katie laments as she stands on the roof of a warehouse across from the one owned by Luke.

“It’s not that bad,” Percy says without much confidence. “I mean, it could definitely be worse.”

Katie scrunches up her face at him. “Are you hearing yourself?”

“Yeah, I didn’t love it,” he admits with a wince. “Can I start over?”

“Give it a shot,” she says with a dismissive shrug.

“Thanks,” he says, taking a moment to psych himself up. “Listen, it’s gonna be great. We went over the building’s layout, Blackjack staked it out for a while, and we’re gonna be a great team. In no time flat, you’ll be throwing yourself at your boyfriend.”

Katie straightens her posture to take a deep breath. “Fine, okay. Let’s just do this before I fully process what a bad idea this is.”

Percy nods and begins to descend down the building’s fire escape. “Remember, 15 minutes and then you follow me in.”

She nods. “See you in there. And don’t die.”

“Has anyone ever told you, you should be a motivational speaker?”

“Percy.”

“Right, sorry. Going.”

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I just wanted to say I absolutely love your Mob AU! Legit my favorite fanfiction ever. I was wondering if you were planning to write about how Annabeth and Beckendorf’s mothers met? I just think you created a very cool dynamic with those two and would love to know more 👁👁

thank you so much for sending this!!! your message gave me just the right amount of writer’s high and for that I am grateful lol this is for you 😘

“Don’t be nervous, Monica,” Dr. Delphi says as he nervously adjusts his suit jacket.  

Monica looks plainly at her mentor for a moment and wonders if he’s self aware enough to know that he’s not exactly inspiring confidence. It only takes her half a second to know that he absolutely is not, and turns to stare up at the Pallas mansion, of which she has heard countless stories. “Why should I be nervous about meeting the youngest member of the hospital’s board? That’s definitely something that happens every day.”

The front door opens then, and a tall man with impossibly broad shoulders steps out. His blue eyes are so bright Monica feels as though they are cutting right through her. “Follow me.”

Monica glances at Dr. Delphi who winks encouragingly and is the first to follow the scary big man. She does her best to keep her eyes facing forward as they wind their way through the house to the backyard, which opens up before her like a lush green oasis. She feels her mouth drop open as she takes in the waterfall that gracefully cascades down into the pool, the tennis court that stands fenced off further in the distance, and what looks like a walking trail that disappears into a jungle-like copse.

“Ms. Pallas will be with you in a few minutes,” the man says, gesturing to a table covered in a white cloth surrounded by three seats that sits off to the side of the pool.

Monica and Dr. Delphi promptly sit, and the man leaves them alone, disappearing back into the house.

“Okay,” Dr. Delphi says, leaning onto the table and speaking softly. “Let Ms. Pallas lead the conversation, and don’t offer any information she’s not specifically asking for. Got it?”

Monica nods once, her mind racing as she tries to get her bearings. It’s not long before the sound of footsteps approaching rings out and shortly after, a woman with perfect posture, striking grey eyes, and brown hair pulled up into a neat bun is sitting across from her.

“Sorry to keep you both waiting,” she says, her eyes on her phone as she types. She looks up briefly, and holds out her hand across the table. “Athena Pallas.”

Monica pulls her shoulders back a bit, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her posture, as she reaches to take Athena’s hand. “Monica Beckendorf.”

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Funny how gay people are allowed to love being gay but trans people aren’t allowed to love being trans or else they’re faking 🤔

puck it chapter 6

by @bipercabeth and @jasonsmclean

This is the team Jason recognizes— the relentless, communicative, cooperative team that rightfully sits in first place in their league. This is the team he and Percy have led for the past several months. Although Beckendorf hasn’t come to any of their games, Jason likes to think this is the team their old captain would be proud of. As great as a captain Beckendorf had been, there’s no doubt that this season is better than their last. Jason knows this is a championship team.

There’s no reason for Chiron to worry about the team’s willingness to work together; the rule almost seems silly now. No romantic relationship has interfered with the team’s abilities before.

Everything goes smoothly until it doesn’t.