Riptide Chapter 4: Super Percy

Women in Mexico disappear.

Today is a historic day in my country, we’re fed up with gender violence in Mexico. They’re killing us. Picture this, you can’t walk outside your own house because you fear the worst, you fear that your clothes are too revealing, you fear that you’re too alone, you fear that you’re walking the wrong streets. Day after day you wake up to the news of another feminicide. They’re killing us. You see it, you hear it, you fear it. What if I’m the next one? You’re always wondering. They’re killing us. 

10 women are killed every day, only because they’re women. And it doesn’t matter where we are, what we’re wearing, who we are. It’s not our fault, because they keep killing us. 

If we keep up at this rate? What’ll be of us? 

Yesterday we marched. 

(None of the pictures are mine) 

 “I march because I’m alive and I don’t know until when.” 

“Today, all our voices aren’t together because, from death, one can’t scream.” 

“We’re not hysteric, we’re historic.” 

“Mom, if you don’t find me, look up for me in the stars.” 

Yesterday we screamed. We flourished. 

“Mom, don’t worry, today I’m not alone in the streets.” 

Our monuments bled to represent us. 

We screamed. 

But not today, today march 9th 2020. We silenced ourselves. 

Today, we disappeared. No social networks, not a single woman in the streets, not a single woman working, not a single woman studying, not a single woman at any store.

What would Mexico be without us? If you don’t want us in the streets, fine we’ll disappear.

Without us, you’ll collapse. 

Mexico woke up with no women ticket-sellers in the subway stations, no women tellers at the bank. 

No women’s column on the newspapers. 

No women at their jobs. 

No women at school. 

No women on the streets.

Mexico woke up with no women. 

We can’t accept what we can’t change, but we will change what we can’t accept. 

We are angry, and we will rise. Because without us, you’re nothing. 

and they were roommates (chapter ten)

The waiting goes easier than Annabeth thought it would.

That being said, the week itself isn’t easy. Annabeth takes five midterms in three days, which should be illegal. She spends her days in the cafe with Piper, the library with Jason, or laying on the floor of the apartment like a starfish. If Annabeth’s limbs could regrow, she would chop one off to get some extra study time. That being said, she is not a starfish, just a college kid laying on the linoleum floor and seriously contemplating dropping out and making a living by selling non-vital organs. People don’t need both of their kidneys, right?

In the end, Annabeth makes it through midterms with both her kidneys and far less panic than last semester. Though really she should thank fall midterms for being so horrible. If she hadn’t broken down then, who knows how long it would’ve taken her to realize her feelings for Percy.

States is a two-day affair, meaning that Saturday is put on hold while Percy competes in the preliminary heats. Thankfully, the meet is right outside the city, so he isn’t holed up in a hotel for the night. Annabeth and Grover, who is staying with them for the weekend, beat Percy home after the day of spectating and smile as he trudges through the door. He may not compete in many events, but the day drags on in a way that invites weariness into even the most rested of bodies.

After Grover claps Percy on the back and heads to the bathroom, Percy collapses face-first into the couch where Annabeth is sprawled, his face tucking into the crook of her neck. A content sigh tickles her skin, and she nearly shoves him off for it. But he winces as his shoulders relax, making his breath hitch in a way that’s honestly illegal for him to do above her when there’s nothing she can do about it.

“Uh, guys.” Grover stands in the hallway, covering his eyes. “I would like to remind you that this is my bed for the night.”

Percy chuckles, the warm air on Annabeth’s neck making her squirm. “You’re welcome to get in on this, bud.”

read on AO3

Yeet

IM RUNNING OUT OF PERCABETH FICS! can you recommend any good ones? thanks so much!

YES I CAN!

you can check out my percabeth fic tag or ao3 bookmarks on this fic masterpost. i don’t have all my percabeth fics tagged properly so you might be better off going through the general pjo fic tag.

lately i’ve been really into @ignitesthestars tire fire verse (starts out lukabeth and turns percabeth) and @greenconverses dark!percy roman au, and there’s a lot of pjo writers in this tag.

some of my other favorite percabeth writers: @ananbeth, @bananannabeth (her brunch fic is amazing and she has a percabeth masterpost) @suchastart, @percyyoulittleshit, @somethingmorecreative1 and @anxiouspineapples (her writing tag)

other favorites:

lips like sugar by @chasexjackson

addicted to you by @somethingmorecreative1

take me away to someplace real by holdingontoyoufordearlife

token by @ananbeth

stained by @ignitesthestars

these feelings never change by @somethingmorecreative1

so bad but he does it so well by @greenconverses

it’s just easier this way by @somethingmorecreative1 

hey

hey friend

dont kill yourself tonight ok

you have a really pretty smile and i know its not always easy to manage one but itd be a bummer if we never had the chance to see it ever again

youre really important and you matter a lot so stay safe and try and have a nice sleep

famous last words that make me go feral and tender at the same time

— “Happy.” Raphael (1520)

— “I’m still learning.” Michelangelo (1564)

— “A great leap in the dark.” Thomas Hobbes (1679)

— “It has all been most interesting.” Mary Wortley Montagu (1762)

— “Now is not the time for making new enemies.” Voltaire, when asked by a priest to renounce Satan before his death (1778)

— “Go live in the country. Stay in mourning for two years, then remarry, but choose somebody decent.“ Alexander Pushkin, Russian poet, to his wife (1837)

— "Take courage, Charlotte; take courage.” Anne Brontë, to her sister Charlotte Brontë (1849)

— "I must go in, for the fog is rising.“ Emily Dickinson (1886)

— "Now comes the mystery.“ Henry Ward Beecher (1887)

— "Pull up the shades; I don’t want to go home in the dark.“ O. Henry (1910)

— "Swing low, sweet chariot.“ Harriet Tubman (1913)

— "It’s very beautiful over there.“ Thomas Edison (1931)

— "I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been.“ Virginia Woolf to her husband (1941)

— "Are you happy? I’m happy.“ Ethel Barrymore (1959)

— "I love you. Sleep well, my sweetheart. Please don’t worry too much.“ Rob Hall, to his wife (1996)

— "A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory.” Leonard Nimoy (2015)

— "I want to be with Carrie.“ Debbie Reynolds (2016)

petition to rename the usa ‘south canada’

47. “I’ve been in love with you for years.” 🥺

Percy Jackson is a coward. 

Freezeframe, record scratch, backtrack to the beginnings of the bad decisions. 

It all went south when Grover threw up. Drunk out of their minds and poor from a long night of bar hopping, the gang piles into an Uber that’s two spots too small to head back to Percy and Grover’s apartment. Grover takes the front seat while Percy and Annabeth are crammed in the backseat behind him—and yes, that’s the same one person seat, because Beckendorf, Silena, and Clarisse are stuffed next to them. Percy curses the Stolls and Katie for living within walking distance of downtown and wonders if anyone will Venmo him back for the Uber. 

If Grover doesn’t get them kicked to the curb, that is. Annabeth shifts in Percy’s lap to hold their friend’s head upright before he can pitch forward on a hard break. Percy tightens his arm around her waist in lieu of a seatbelt. Only a few more miles until they’re home free. 

Clarisse is giving Grover a passionate and profane pep talk from her middle seat when Percy looks her way, and Silena and Beckendorf look like they’re trying to swallow each other on her other side. He buries his face between Annabeth’s shoulder blades and groans. His five star passenger rating is going down in flames. 

“Hey,” Annabeth pinches his arm. “Don’t you go giving out on me too, Jackson. We still have to go up three flights of stairs and I carried Grover last time.” 

“I carried Grover last time.” 

“You carried Connor. Now listen up, we’re almost there and I have a plan.” 

“Oh god, she has a plan.” 

“Shut up. You love my plans.” 

“Whatever you say, captain.” 

“Grover is going to puke as soon as we stop, so I’m going to run and open his door. I need you to push him out of the car the second I’m out.” 

“And if you don’t make it?” 

“I’m gonna make it.” 

The car stops and abruptly ends the argument. Annabeth flies out her door and Percy shoves Grover forward by the shoulders just as he yells about puking. Never bet against Annabeth, or something like that. Grover tumbles onto the sidewalk without leaving a mark in the Uber. 

Instead he throws up on Annabeth. 

The only sound is Clarisse cackling as Percy wrestles his way out of the car. Grover starts crying while Annabeth sits there, covered in vomit and a look of shock. 

He presses his keys into her hand. “You go shower, and I’ll be up there soon with—” The Uber driver starts yelling at Clarisse. “Hang on.” 

He pulls the other three out of the backseat before anything else can go wrong. The Uber speeds away the moment the door closes.

Annabeth pulls Grover to his feet. “You’ll lose Silena and Beckendorf if you try it alone, and I really don’t want to bail anyone out for indecent exposure in the morning. Take Grover before I strangle him.” 

Percy knows better than to question Annabeth when she’s got that fierce look in her eye, so he hoists Grover over his shoulder without the usual sideways comment. “Once is enough, buddy,” he says quietly, hoping Grover doesn’t puke down his back. 

Annabeth leads the way up the stairs, holding Clarisse’s hand and pausing every ten steps to shoo Silena and Beckendorf forward. She’s right, as always: Percy would’ve lost them. But Annabeth handles it with her shoulders squared and her expression fiery, making Percy glad once more that he’s as close to sober as he is. It’s so easy to get dumbstruck looking at her, even when her makeup is smudged and she’s covered in their best friend’s vomit. No matter the circumstances, Percy will always find her beautiful. 

By the time he dumps Grover in his own bed, the lovebirds have claimed the couch and the shower is running. Just as the panic of missing Clarisse strikes, Percy hears Annabeth curse at her from the bathroom. 

“Percy!” she yells.

Then Clarisse. “Yeah, c’mere Twinkle Toes.” 

“Shut up.”

He raps his knuckles against the door. The shower is running. “You okay?” 

The door opens wide enough for Annabeth’s face. “Could you grab me some clothes? I think I left some last time I spent the night.” 

Clarisse coos. “Spent the night, huh?” 

There’s a thud, a curse, and Annabeth nearly slips as she presumably kicks Clarisse. She catches herself just as her bare shoulder comes into view. 

Percy clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. No problem.” 

He retreats to his room and grabs an old sweatshirt and pair of plaid pants for her. She definitely left something of her own the last several times she came over, but sue Percy for enjoying the sight of her in his clothes. 

Clarisse answers the door looking suspiciously like she’s been sprayed by the showerhead. “Do us all a favor,” she hisses, “and tell her how you feel. How long has it been, anyway? Silena owes me money if I’m right.” 

Percy waves her off and tosses the clothes in her face, but once everyone has gone to bed and Annabeth is asleep and smelling like his own bodywash on the other side of his bed, he faces the truth. 

He is a coward harboring a secret truth that shines like sunlight, one that can only be faced alone at night because it’s so blinding. 

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he whispers, watching her chest rise slowly in the moonlight. 

And then her breath catches, her eyelashes flutter, and Percy is an idiot caught in her headlights. 

She doesn’t move, just swallows deeply and says, “Say that again.” 

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“Percy, please.” 

The please and the fact that she hasn’t run out of the room are the only reasons he’s able to repeat himself. 

“How drunk are you?” She sounds small, unsure, and entirely unlike herself.

He props himself up on his elbow and nearly reaches for her. “Completely sober.” 

And then she’s rolling them over faster than Percy can process, and he would want to slow down this moment if her lips weren’t on his with a fervor he’s only dreamed of. The world is blindingly bright in the midnight morning; the sun isn’t out, but it might as well be. 

Percy says “I love you,” against her mouth, and he thinks maybe he could be brave for her. If being brave means a lifetime of this, he’ll never take the coward’s way out again.

HEY IF YOURE IN THE US. CONGRESS IS TRYING TO END ENCRYPTION SO THEY CAN POSSIBLY LIMIT OUR FREEDOM OF SPEECH UNDER “FOR THE CHILDREN” ITS BEEN AT THE START OF THE PANDEMIC AND NOW AT THE SENATE, CALL YR REPS AND TELL THEM YOUR AGAINST THE EARN IT BILL. TELL THEM ITS THE END OF FREE SPEECH.

PLEASE PLEASE SIGN THIS AND REBLOG! IF YR NOT IN THE US AND WANNA TRY* AND HELP. REBLOG THIS AND LET OTHER US CITIZENS KNOW. edit; i didn’t realize apparently signing if your not a us citizen invalidates it, so please DON’T sign it if youre not in the us. please reblog this version if you can. also the thing about this bill is it fucks over digital security in general as in you can get hacked easily, or hackers can gain access to things without encryption.

We’re all having “hard conversations” about racism, police brutality, and #BlackLivesMatter I hope. 

You’ve probably noticed that detractors often use the same “racist talking points” in response. Here’s a researched and sourced guide to help you answer, for the times you may get stuck.

Feel free to save these images and share them!

Originally posted on Twitter

the perpollo wave has pertemis vibes and i mean this in the absolute worst way