I’m Only Able To Send This Because I’ve Got A VPN But Yesterday Even VPNS Were Blocked Today If You

HOW TO DONATE TO BLM WHEN YOU HAVE NO MONEY

a black woman named zoe amira posted a video on youtube. this video is an hour long and filled with art and music from black creators. it has a ton of ads, and in result will rack up a ton of revenue. 100% of the ad revenue from the video will be dispersed between various blm organizations, including bail-out funds for protesters. it will be split between the following, dependent on necessity

brooklyn bail fund

minnesota freedom fund

atlanta action network

columbus freedom fund

louisville community bail fund

chicago bond

black visions collective

richmond community bail fund

the bail project inc

nw com bail fund

philadelphia bail fund

the korchhinski-parquet family gofundme

george floyd’s family gofundme

blacklivesmatter.com

reclaim the block

aclu

turn off your adblocker and put the video on repeat. do not skip ads. let it play on loop whether you’re listening or not. mute the tab if you need to focus elsewhere. but let. it. play.

youtube will donate to blm for you.

please, please reblog. for people who don’t have money to spare, this is incredibly important information to have.

Just Practice - Chapter 4

sorry it took so long to update! there’s an explanation of what was going on at ao3 for those who are interested. i really appreciate everyone who reblogs - i read all your tags so please keep leaving your thoughts it’s what keeps me motivated to keep writing! 

big thank you to @bipercabeth for offering her input on a section in this chapter that was giving me a lot of trouble - i truly appreciate it!

here’s the ao3 link for those who are interested

By the last week of September, all traces of summer were well and truly gone. There was a crispness to the air that Annabeth knew would soon turn into a biting chill, the kind that seeped into your fingers. With the end of September came the start of the new swim season and the very first meet of the season. Annabeth drummed her fingers against the wheel of her father’s old Subaru Forester, glaring at the stop light which had been resolutely red for the past five minutes. The meet was due to start in three minutes, but she was still ten minutes away from where it was being held.

Annabeth cast another baleful glare the traffic light’s way and stole a sip of lukewarm coffee from her thermos just as the light turned green. The Subaru groaned as she hit the accelerator hard and lurched forward so abruptly that her father’s briefcase fell from its spot in the backseat. She arrived seven minutes late and rushed inside, following the sterile scent of chlorine towards the pool, hoping desperately Percy’s heat hadn’t started yet. There was a heat already underway when she finally got to the pool, which made her heart sink before she noticed Sally and Estelle waving to her from the bleachers. Annabeth made her way over to them, half-jogging, and took her seat next to Sally.

“We saved you a spot, Annabeth!” Estelle said brightly.

“Thanks, guppy,” Annabeth said breathlessly. “I’m not too late, right?”

“No, you’re fine, honey. Percy’s heat still won’t be for a while,” Sally said. “It’s good to see you! It’s been far too long.”

Keep reading

french recipes: if you’re not making this in paris then what’s the point. fuck you

italian recipes: use the left leg meat of a pig from one of three farms in this specific area of tuscany, or from this day my grandmother will begin manifesting physically in your house

Please pray for us here in Greece.

Three different places near Athens were destroyed by massive forest fires.

• 180+ people are severely injured and burnt.

• 50 people and counting were found dead on the streets, in their cars or houses, including families that were found hugging each other.

• 100+ are missing.

This is a national tragedy. So many were lost because of ARROGANT PEOPLE.

Spreading awareness. There’s no need for such things to happen, so many lives were destroyed for no reason.

mybroadband.co.za

Zimbabwe orders Internet shutdown

When the Zimbabwean government ordered internet service providers to shutter parts of the web in an effort to curb anti-government protests,

I’m only able to send this because I’ve got a VPN but yesterday even VPNS were blocked today if you don’t have a VPN you can’t read news or use WhatsApp or Facebook or any social media they’ve only put the Internet on to avoid human rights issues you have a huge audience gaud, an audience who should care.

If you haven’t heard there is a literal massacre going on in Sudan.

People are getting kidnapped, arrested, raped and killed. This has been going on for a few days now but naturally there’s hardly any media coverage.

THE WORLD CARES MORE ABOUT AN EMPTY CHURCH IN FRANCE THAN HUNDREDS OF INNOCENT BLACK MUSLIMS DYING IN SUDAN.

There are a few ways to help:

 - Emergency Medical Aid Donation

- Facebook campaign raising funds for food and other necessities

- International Rescue Committee

- Save The Children

Even if you can’t donate please help spread the news!!

#SudanMassacre

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.”

continue on ao3

48 for percabeth! I hope u feel better about the show

Annabeth has known that Percy was going to die from the moment she met him. Four summers. Best case scenario. 

Twelve-year-old Annabeth wasn’t particularly concerned about falling in love with the trouble-making son of Poseidon who drooled in his sleep. Freshly sixteen Annabeth sometimes wishes she had opted for the quiet life some children of Athena preferred: strategize, keep your head down, live a comfortable and unremarkable life. She hardly would’ve crossed paths with Percy outside of the occasional class or Capture the Flag. He and Grover could’ve found someone else to be their best friend, or maybe they would’ve bonded as a pair. And Annabeth would have kept her distance from Percy in the name of self-preservation, knowing they would only have four bittersweet summers together at best. 

The summer before the Titan War is not the best case scenario. Percy is hardly ever at camp except for quests and Kronos-related meetings. He chooses to spend what they both know is his last of their four measly summers away from Annabeth. Grover is nowhere to be found, Thalia is with the Hunters, Luke is hosting the Titan Lord, and Annabeth feels more like a scared little girl than she has in a long time. At least she isn’t the runaway. That title fell to Percy. 

It feels like an insult to Annabeth’s love for Percy to wish they hadn’t met. She is so much better for having loved him. For loving him—present tense. But she says this while he’s still here. His smile may not be directed at her that often, but he still smiles. Sometimes Annabeth can even stomach the jealousy of Rachel being the cause of that smile, because at least someone is giving him joy before this all goes to shit. When it does, maybe Annabeth will understand what it means to wish him away, if only to end the pain of having known and lost a person like Percy Jackson. 

The feeling isn’t new. Annabeth’s gut has twisted in previous conversations where someone would bring up high school and college plans. Percy would talk animatedly about getting his license at sixteen, and Annabeth was left with a dry mouth she could not twist into a smile. He would beam at Beckendorf’s plans to attend NYU in the fall and make the older boy promise to swing by Sally’s sometime. Even Beckendorf, who had never heard the full Great Prophecy, could not stop the microexpression of pity. 

When Annabeth first heard the prophecy, it was too much for her ten year old mind. There was no face to connect to the doomed fate, no cursed blade to reap the hero’s soul. Sometimes her young brain conjured an image of Thalia, but that was a nightmare of its own. Every night, Annabeth would watch Olympus fall at the hands of someone she hoped never to know. 

She still gets those nightmares, only the visuals have improved. Percy is in every single one of them, saving or razing Olympus depending on the night. He never survives. You cannot outrun fate. Annabeth has tried. 

Still, she is a daughter of Athena, and Athena always has a plan. When Percy dies, Annabeth will fall to pieces. In a lucky string of events, she might fall alongside him. It’s a war, after all. But she has a sneaking suspicion that she will outlive him. She has a plan for this as well. The shroud they made when he was stranded on Calypso’s island was nice and communal, leagues ahead of the one the Ares cabin shroud that still makes Annabeth’s blood boil. But deep in her soul, Annabeth knows that she alone will make his shroud. Just as she’ll burn it.; just as she’ll care for Sally in his stead; just as she will lay blue roses on his headstone every time she’s in the neighborhood; just as she’ll be there for Grover, for Clarisse, for all of camp when he’s gone. She will do it alone. Annabeth held the sky, once. She will shoulder this as well. How much heavier could losing her best friend be than the weight of the world? In her anticipation, they feel the same. 

She will build a monument for him, something to last the ages as he was supposed to, as permanent as the love he has given her. It will overlook the gods on Olympus, a reminder of the boy they failed. The boy who was too good for them all. Regardless of how the war goes, this will always be true. 

He was never built to last. Nothing good ever can, and he’s been burning the candle at both ends for a while now. He was meant to burn bright, not long. 

Annabeth sits in the dark of the Big House rec room, the only quiet space now that camp is in full war preparation. Well, the only quiet space apart from the beach, but Annabeth knows the smell of salt air and the sound of waves will be her undoing. That is another key feature of her plan: never go to the ocean again. 

She curls her knees into her chest, feeling every inch the child that she is. But children are not supposed to have plans for their best friend dying. Children are not supposed to have their first kiss out of fear that said best friend will die before their four summers are up. 

The door opens, throwing the room into harsh shadows and blinding light. 

“Um.” Annabeth can’t see who’s talking, but she’d know his voice anywhere. “Chiron said there was a war council meeting today.” 

She raises a hand to block out the light and give her eyes time to adjust. “Yeah, later.” To Annabeth’s horror, her voice is hoarse. Her throat is clogged with tears. 

Percy’s sneakers stop shifting in the carpet. “Are, uh... are you okay?” 

He sounds hesitant to ask, like he’s expecting vitriol to spew from Annabeth’s mouth. And, in fairness, sometimes it does. But Annabeth doesn’t have vitriol in her right now. The awareness that she does not have many days left with Percy is painfully acute. To spend them angry feels like a waste. 

“No, I’m not.” By now her eyes have adjusted to the light, and she looks at him through bleary eyes. 

Percy stills when he sees her face, looking ready to bolt. He points to the door. “Do you want me to...?”

Annabeth sniffles. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

What breaks her is how quickly he is by her side. For all their faults, it is the one thing she can count on. As long as she lets him, Percy will come to Annabeth when she’s hurting.

She doesn’t tell him how deeply that statement is carved into her, that she is carved from loneliness the same way he is carved from guilt—the pitfalls of pride and loyalty. 

A kid carved from loneliness cannot plan to be held the way that Percy holds Annabeth. Such a selfless love was unfathomable as a little girl; how could she ever have accounted for it? He just.. holds her. He doesn’t try to talk or look at her face. He’s just there, unwaveringly. It kills Annabeth to know he won’t always be. It hurts to be with him, but it will hurt so much more to be without him. 

The dam breaks, and Annabeth sobs into Percy’s shoulder. He’s taller than her now, grown only to be cut down young. Still, he is steadfast, grounded, secure in his roots. The way a towering oak has no reason to fear a chainsaw until the cutting has already begun. 

“You’re my best friend,” she tells him, because she’s not sure she’s ever said it and it’s something he deserves to hear. “No matter what, you’re my best friend.” 

Percy strokes a gentle hand along the back of Annabeth’s head. “And you’re mine,” he assures her. He doesn’t say you’re my best friend too. Just you’re mine. As if the fact doesn’t haunt her. She is his, irrevocably. 

A gentle knock at the door interrupts them. Annabeth recognizes Silena’s quiet footfalls and almost withdraws from Percy, but he makes no move to. 

Silena’s voice is soft, not smug like Annabeth expects. “War council in fifteen. Figured I’d give you two a heads up.” 

Annabeth meets her eyes over Percy’s shoulder. “Thanks.” 

The older girl ducks her head in something resembling shame. “It’s the least I can do.” She leaves. 

“How much longer?” Percy asks when the door clicks shut. It isn’t an impatient question. In fact, Annabeth doesn’t know exactly what he’s asking. 

She gives an honest answer. “However long we have left.” And the sun begins to set on the fourth summer.