Just an FYI for those in the US with insurance issues
personally I think we should combine the states of texas and florida just as a social experiment
and they were roommates
by @bipercabeth
Annabeth realizing she likes Percy changes her perspective on several things.
For instance, she’s now overtly aware of how often he’s shirtless around the apartment, and it’s way more frequent than she previously thought.
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An AU in which Grover is on the Argo II as protector instead of Hedge, because I say so. He and Percy get to have an actual conversation about the aftereffects of Tartarus + that godawful conversation with Jason.
Percy is tired. That’s what he tells Grover when he asks how he’s doing (and Grover asks often).
I’m just tired.
Saving the world for the fifth summer in a row gets tiring, you know? I’m gonna go nap. Wake me up when I’m on watch.
It’s nothing. Just haven’t been able to sleep. Since the world is ending again.
Everyone else has stopped asking.
It’s not for lack of caring. Percy’s loyalty outweighs his self-deprecation; he can’t think lowly enough of the people around him to claim they don’t care about him. He just makes it easier for them to forget. Indifference is more comfortable than concern. How can Percy explain himself to Jason, Piper, and Leo, who don’t know him; to Frank and Hazel, who admire him; or to Annabeth and Grover, who love him? He tried with Jason after the incident with the poison, and the guy gave him that hard-pressed grimace—lips pulled tight and to the side—before dismissing the topic entirely. Jason paused, perhaps to think, and Percy heard rejection in the silence. It was just like when he set fire to the band room at Goode: Percy was standing with his face sooty and his skin torn apart by debris, looking out at the horror and disbelief on the faces of his peers. So he did with Jason what he did then. He ran.
Maybe Jason truly thought nothing of it. The guy was raised by wolves, after all. He doesn’t seem like the type to sit in his emotions. Maybe the conversation took a turn down a road Jason can’t walk either; maybe he’s a runner, just like Percy.
Tired gets everyone else off his back. Annabeth narrows her eyes with that analytical stare that used to break Percy, but even she can be fooled. That stare worked when his problems were smaller—the weight of the world instead of the weight of himself. After a lifetime of shouldering impossible burdens, the thing that makes his legs shake is getting out of bed in the morning. Just the weight of sixteen years, of five straight summers being a hero. If he lives to see a time where the world doesn’t need a hero—when it doesn’t need Percy—who will he be? Childhood turned to dust alongside the first monster he plunged Riptide into. What story will he write when it comes time to put down the sword and pick up the pen?
PLEASE HEED THE TAGS BEFORE READING
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read from the beginning on ao3
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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you’re a symphony (i’m just a sour note) chapter 1
by @jasonsmclean
The room is filled with noise, the sound of string instruments being played consuming all other sounds. There’s the occasional shuffling of sheet music, or the frustrated sigh, and whispers lie just beneath the peaceful hum of music. It’s a comforting loudness, one that would soothe over any stressed soul.
Once the clock hits six, silence takes over the once pleasantly noisy room. It’s almost ominous, the hearing equivalent of watching clouds cover the sun. A hush falls over the musicians, putting their instruments in resting position, their expectant eyes immediately focusing on the black-haired conductor in front of them.
Only Reyna isn’t ordering them to pull out a particular piece yet. Her eyes stare at the clock, almost in disbelief that the time has the audacity to hit six. By the time a minute passes, the orchestra shifts uncomfortably because Reyna never starts practice late. It’s evident nobody knows why she hasn’t started.
Jason knows. He can’t help but to look past Reyna at Annabeth, who has an emotionless look on her face. “He’s late,” he informs her.
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Breonna Taylor’s petition has still not hit its goal. It takes next to no time at all to sign it. So if you haven’t, please do it and signal boost.
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percabeth | cinderella au | 12k
“I hope to see you again, Miss…”
It could be a title, but the look he gives her indicates it’s an invitation to give her name. Annabeth plays dumb, knowing he’ll see through it.
Her chest rises with her breath. “And I you, Percy.”
He grins at the promise and the sound of his name, his eyes darting to her mouth as he turns his horse. Even as he rides away, he casts a glance at Annabeth over his shoulder. Laughter rings in the air as clear as the summer sky. It’s a charming sound, Annabeth thinks. She can’t wait to hear it again.
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Was anyone gonna tell me Vincent Martella, voice of Phineas Flynn on the Disney Channel original show Phineas and Ferb is on some absolute king shit on his twitter or did i just have to see this amazing series of tweets myself?
There’s more just go fucking look yourself
Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue.