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I’m Going To Reblog Burdge

Seafaring

continuing my grand tradition of posting fic at 2am, here’s a percabeth hurt/comfort one. percy and annabeth hug in a bathtub, both fully clothed, and sometimes that’s just you having a shit morning. don’t yell at me, this idea hails from audrey, go yell at her for making me write this. TWs for past burn injury, PTSD, annabeth’s consistent and intentional thievery of clothing, the things i’m always writing about. this was only mildly edited so be gentle

AO3

The bed shifted around her and Annabeth blinked the sleep out of her eyes, her hand fumbling for the dagger that sat idly on her nightstand casting its soft bronze glow, and then warm fingers wrapped around her wrist and tugged her hand back beneath the blanket. Percy, she thought, blearily, because even half asleep she knew the shape of his hand, the feel of it against her skin, the tug of the callouses and the silky strip of the scar that snaked across the meat of his thumb. She knew the feel of his hand on hers, the way she knew he smelled like the sweet breeze that rolled off the sea in the morning, all warm, all gentle, all for her.

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Starbucks funded the police in Atlanta so here’s their recipes

TBC since tumblr’s posting methods changed

the most depressing part is that it's not even kamala's stance on genocide that is costing her the elections. i wish it were. it's people genuinely shifting for trump. but it's the pro-palestine movement that's going to get the blame for it.

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.

PULLING YOU IN FOR A KISS WITH A SCARF

The night is warm. Annabeth’s cheeks heat with the flush of wine—by now they likely match the red of her Christmas sweater, a thick turtleneck that tickles her jaw. Charles stokes the flames at the fireplace for the first time in the new house, filling the room with the smell of oak and cedar and replacing the smell of dinner lingering in the air. An earnest Rachel chirps over Charles’ shoulder about how to interpret and “read” the flame, which he indulges with the silent amusement only he possesses. Katie and Travis are in a playful argument that will culminate in a kiss any minute, Grover is passing out hot cocoa (with extra marshmallows for Annabeth), and the others are screeching an off-key rendition of “All I Want For Christmas Is You”, which is particularly remarkable when you consider Clarisse singing along with her spiked cider raised high.

Most importantly, warmth emanates from under her where Percy sits with his arm around her waist and a soft smile on his face. He looks so serene, taken out of the moment the way one does in a flash of sudden clarity that they are currently creating a memory they will long to come back to, looking through the lens of nostalgia for a moment they are still in. Somehow Annabeth is in that moment with him, watching their friends through grainy film and hearing them as though the audio plays in the next room over. Everything is muted, glossy, and so so warm.

Percy comes back to himself and presses his lips to Annabeth’s cheek, smiling against the heat of her skin. His hand lifts from her hip to point at the reckless carolers supporting each other with firm embraces and shaky harmonies. “They’re idiots,” he says, but he says it with that smile and it sounds an awful lot like I love them.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “They really are.”

Later in the night once the idiots have been rounded up and herded out the door, Annabeth pauses in the foyer to watch them stumble gleefully, fighting over who gets shotgun in Juniper’s car (Grover) and who gets stuck in the middle seat (Connor). Snow falls softly and settles on Rachel’s curls as she tugs Clarisse’s beanie over her buzz cut and past her eyes, cackling alongside Castor and Pollux and the rest of the gang. Laughter and clinking glass echo from the kitchen where Silena and Beckendorf stayed behind.

The city is cold but the world is warm and full of people Annabeth loves, and therefore it is full of meaning. She turns to Percy, her coat rustling with the movement, and tries to hang on to this warmth, to the man who brought so much of it into her life.

She says, “Thank you,” and it sounds like I love you. It sounds like I love you and it means I love you but there is wine in her system and she’s two seconds away from crying after drinking on an ordinary day with less emotions. If he asks her, she’ll blame the wine and the holidays.

But Percy doesn’t ask her. He finishes pulling on his scarf and coat and looks at her, just looks at her, patient and understanding and in love, the way he has looked at her for the past ten years of their life. Annabeth marvels at her ability to bask in the familiarity of this love. She knows the details of him better than anything; he is the one portrait she can sketch from memory, a monument to permanence in her heart, and still her gaze catches on his freckles even in the winter months when there is no sun to change them. Just in case she misses one.

So she knows he will respond, “Of course,” in that soft tone of his, and she’s ready when his arms wrap around her bundled body. This man, her life partner who drives her crazy in the most maddening and romantic of ways, has given her more than she could ever hope to repay, and he loves her anyway. When her mind plays tricks and plants seeds of doubt, he reassures her. He shows up. Every single time, he shows up.

Their friends are long since corralled by their designated drivers, leaving Percy and Annabeth in the headlights. She pulls him in by the scarf, and they don’t say anything, but it sounds like I love you. Thank you for bringing me in from the cold. Thank you for bringing me home.

might fuck around and post this bitch tonight who knows

hiya! now that its the next day and im (a little) more sane, if you're one of the endlessly patient people who's been waiting for mando au to update, wait not longer! the final chapter is now live ! enjoy