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Everyone is entitled to their opinions and everyone is entitled to their beliefs … but if the opinions and feelings are rooted in denying certain people basic human rights, I’ve got a problem with that.

  • Chiron: The Hunters win! For the fifty-sixth time in a row.
  • Thalia: Perseus Jackson! *storms toward him, flickering blue sparks* What in the name of the gods were you THINKING?
  • Percy: *balls fists* I got the flag, Thalia! *shakes flag in her face* I saw a chance and I took it!
  • Thalia: *yelling* I WAS AT THEIR BASE! But the flag was gone. If you hadn't butted in, we would've won.
  • Percy: You had too many on you!
  • Thalia: Oh, so it's my fault?
  • Percy: I didn't say that.
  • Thalia: Argh! *pushes him, sending a shock through him that blows him ten feet backwards into the river*
  • Thalia: *pales* Sorry! I didn't mean to—
  • Percy: *ears roaring, angrily erupts a wave from river and blasts Thalia in the face, dousing her head to toe*
  • Percy: Yeah. *growls* I didn't mean to, either.
  • Chiron: Enough!
  • Thalia: *holds out spear* You want some, Seaweed Brain?
  • Percy: Bring it on, Pinecone Face!
  • Percy: *raises riptide*
  • Thalia: *yells, a blast of lightning comes down from the sky, hits her spear like a lightning rod, and slams into Percy's chest*
  • Percy: *is thrown back, clothes burning*
  • Chiron: Thalia! That is enough!
  • Percy: *stands up and wills entire creek to rise, swirling in a massive icy funnel cloud*
  • Chiron: Percy!
  • Percy: *prepares to hurl wave at Thalia, but sees the oracle emerging from the woods and the wave crashes back into the creek*
lavender hues (m)

fantasy au (reposted)

pairing: jimin | reader
genre: angst and fluff
word count: 13.094
warnings: sexual content 
author’s note: previously named ‘if these wings could fly’ in my old blog. I’m just reposting it with a new name. :)


Beauty. If someone asked you to define it, your mouth would probably go dry and your heart would flutter yearningly, freezing as the words turn heavy in your mind and dissolve in the tip of your tongue.

Beauty is short-lived but ubiquitous, a transparent but shimmering liquid running in rivulets through hidden alleyways and veiled landscapes that the eyes don’t notice unless they look twice. Beauty is found in the unexpected, in the withheld words of the timid poets, in longing stares and authentic, carefree laughs. Beauty is found in what the eyes can see, in what the ears can hear, in the deep reverie of the colorful minds and in the dreams held close to the heart.

Beauty is fleeting and you’re unable to grasp it. All your life you’ve chased it, extended your hands towards it, longed to touch it with your fingertips. But your steps are slow and your hands are ungifted, and you can only imagine what it would be like to create beauty, to have the hands of those that are able to reflect love and joy and pain in books and paintings.

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