Riptide Chapter 11 

The Horse and the Gun

“Men come West for one of two reasons, they’re looking for something, or something is looking for them. Which are you?”…

…“Looking for something,” he says.

The Sheriff tilts her head back, looking down her nose at him. “What’s your name.”

“Percy Jackson.”

“Well Mister Jackson, you’re full of shit…”

A percabeth western au

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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Fuck ICE

That judge who asked young children if they even knew what a lawyer was and then continued to proceed on their cases is a piece of shit and I hope he rots slowly while alive, he should have refused, what a pathetic evil motherfucker who actually spoke to these children face to face and still proceeded to treat them like criminals and send them off to god knows what kinda awful shit, I hope that sick fuck gets a very slow painful disease

and they were roommates (chapter six)

When Annabeth wakes up, she’s in someone’s arms. The events of last night remain buried deep in her subconscious, and the only thing she processes is the warmth radiating from the chest she’s tucked against.

It’s Percy that’s holding her—he’s the only person who could be—and he’s fumbling with the knob of her bedroom door while trying to balance her. Her stomach lurches as she dips, the uneasiness in her gut unleashing a wave of memories and shame.

Annabeth half wishes she could play dead long enough for him to put her in bed and leave for work, but she owes him better than that. Her grand plan to catch him last night failed miserably, which she should’ve seen coming, but she was too upset to think critically. So, yeah, she owes it to him to be honest before he leaves, which could be any second.

Annabeth puts a heavy hand on his chest. “I’m up,” she mumbles.

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Riptide Chapter 7 

Annabeth paces furiously back and forth through the living room, taking small breaks to stop and give Percy death stares as he sits on the couch, his knee nervously bouncing up and down.

“Annabeth, will you please sit down?” he begs, desperate for a chance to explain.

“Why? So you can keep lying to my face?” she asks as she stops at the window and whips around. “I knew something had been going on with you but I thought you took like… a confidence seminar or something, not that you became a goddamn superhero!”

Percy runs his hands over his face. “I didn’t know when to tell you.”

She stops abruptly and crosses her arms to stare him down. “Definitely before we made out on your bed.”

He hangs his head. “That… is a great point. You’re completely right, I should have told you. I fucked up. I’m so so so sorry.”  

Annabeth exhales and sits across from Percy on the coffee table, as if the wave of initial anger has left her exhausted. “You’re an asshole.”  

Percy scoots forward until he’s sitting on the edge of the couch and reaches out to take Annabeth’s hand in his. “I’m so sorry, Annabeth. I wanted to tell you, I swear.”

“So why didn’t you?” she asks, and the hurt in her voice makes Percy want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

“This whole thing…” he starts, not entirely sure how to explain. “It got really complicated really fast. This isn’t meant as an excuse but I thought that by not telling you, I was keeping you safe. All I have ever wanted was to keep you safe. Please believe me.”

Annabeth bites her bottom lip as she scans Percy’s face. He keeps eye contact as he lifts her hand to his lips and tenderly places a kiss to it, praying to whoever is listening that he hasn’t fucked this up before it has even had a chance to really begin.

She looks over at Grover for a moment, who begins to stir, and she smiles. “I can’t believe it’s just been you and Grover this whole time. How the hell are you still alive?”

Percy’s heart soars as Annabeth’s hand squeezes his back, and he laughs. “Pure luck.”

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All the takes are correct and yet they also miss the point. Yes, it was insane for the Democrats to think they could win by running a soulless candidate, without a shred of progressive policy vision, pursuing endorsements from neocon war-hawks everybody hates, while arming and funding a genocide, and belittling and crushing those who have enough morality to protest it. It is enraging that the Democrats are so smug and blind to this. But these are all just symptoms. The deeper reality is that liberalism has failed, liberalism is dead, and people urgently need to wake up to this fact and respond accordingly. It is a defunct ideology that cannot offer any meaningful solutions to our social and ecological crises and it must be abandoned. Democrats have proven over and over again that they cannot accept even basic steps like public healthcare, affordable housing, and a public job guarantee - things that would dramatically improve the material, social and political conditions of the working classes. And they cannot accept a public finance strategy that would steer production away from fossil fuels and toward green transition to give us a shot at a liveable future. Why? Because these things run against the objectives of capital accumulation. And for liberals capital is sacrosanct. They will do whatever it takes to ensure elite accumulation, it is their only consistent commitment. At home, they suppress and demonize progressive and socialist tendencies. Abroad, they engage in endless wars and violence to suppress input prices in the global South and prevent any possibility of sovereign economic development. The Democrats have done all this purposefully and knowingly, for my whole life, not as some kind of "mistake" but in full consciousness that it is in the interests of capital. And because liberalism cannot address our crises, and because it crushes socialist alternatives, it inevitably paves the way for right-wing populism. They know this pattern, and yet they risk it every time - this election being only the most recent example. They did it in 2016, when they actively crushed the Sanders campaign and sent Trump to the White House. They do it because ultimately they (and I mean the liberal ruling class here) don't really mind if fascists take power, so long as the latter too ensure the conditions for capital accumulation. They 100% prefer this to the possibility of a socialist alternative. So, progressives have to face reality. The dream of "converting" the Democratic party is dead. This is now a fact and it must be accepted. The only option is to build a mass-based movement that can reclaim the working classes and mobilize a political vehicle that can integrate disparate progressive struggles into a unified and formidable political force and achieve substantive transformation. This will take real work, actual organizing, but it must be done and that process must begin now.

Jason Hickel

I don’t think I’ve seen an answer to the question of how close or far apart the things happening today (”send her back”, detention centers etc) are to the nazis quite as good or thorough as this answer on quora

yes i think everyone should be wearing masks and i feel a blind rage when i see people not complying but i will not be your haven to feel morally superior to people in red states who have been left to suffer from covid not just by our criminally incompetent federal government but also their state and local officials who cannot give half of a shit if they live or die

and they were roommates 

by @bipercabeth

Finals being around the corner is about the worst thing that could happen to Percy and Annabeth, both as individuals and friends. Swim season intensifies, meaning that nearly every moment Percy isn’t working or doing schoolwork he spends at the gym or the stadium. He leaves earlier and comes home later. Annabeth can’t remember the last time they had a meaningful conversation.

That’s a dramatization, but even their Saturdays are changing. Annabeth is the first one up now, and she doesn’t have the heart to wake him knowing he barely sleeps on weekdays. Schoolwork also encroaches on their safe space, coming as much from Annabeth’s side of things as Percy’s.

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