#Bahia writing

[perseabeth]

Milo’s Lyre

this is a one shot written about @anotheroceanid amazing fic titled When the Horizon Bloom, read it on AO3 you will enjoy it very much and get your heart broken in the most beautiful way possible. I published another one shot about this fic titled “What If” you can read it too- I got this idea last night during my angst hour with @anotheroceanid, and after few tears, and of course her inspiration, I decided that you should cry with us too! - i do not own the idea of the fic and i certainly do not own any character, all belong to the great author of the fic that made me cry more than my college curriculum enjoy ✨

Apollo no longer remembers how the dream began. He isn't even certain how he can dream at all. He once believed that gods were immune to such mortal experiences, but ever since his love vanished, dreams and nightmares have haunted him in every stolen moment he tries to delve into slumber. This dream, however, was different.

It was serene. Apollo sat upon a rock, a glittering sea stretching before him. His heart ached with a profound sorrow. The sea... How could he ever gaze upon the ocean again without seeing her eyes? How could he ever look at the waves and not remember the way they mirrored her gaze?

Sometimes, he would embark on frantic quests, searching for the sea that truly captured the color of her eyes, just to glimpse those sea-green eyes once more.

How long had it been? Seven years? For gods, time was an irrelevant concept, a fleeting notion in the face of immortality. Normally, seven years would pass as quickly as seven minutes. But these seven years... These years had stretched into millennia. He never knew time could crawl so slowly, could torture so mercilessly.

Apollo cradled his golden lyre, the instrument that once brought her such joy. He remembered the first time she heard him play, the radiant sparkle in her eyes, the breathtaking smile that stole his soul forever. His fingers, delicate and reverent, brushed against the strings, coaxing a serene melody from the lyre. Each note floated through the air like a whisper, and even the restless sea stilled its waves, entranced by the music.

Minutes passed in this harmonious reverie until Apollo felt a presence behind him—a presence so calm, so peaceful, carrying the unmistakable scent of the sea. Hope surged through him. Could it be his love? Could he finally see her in his dreams?

He turned his head slowly, afraid to wake from this fragile hope. As he did, his eyes met sea-green ones, and his heart melted, his soul awakening. Percy’s eyes… But something wasn’t right. The figure before him was a young boy, no older than six or seven, with golden curls that framed his face in a halo of sunlight. The boy was breathtakingly beautiful. Apollo's heart clenched as he took in the boy’s features. They reminded him of himself in one moment, and then of his love in the next, as if he were a perfect blend of them both.

Apollo's heart clenched. This boy… he looked like the son he might have had if Percy were still here. Shock rendered him speechless as he gazed into those familiar eyes. It was as if the child embodied the essence of their love, a living testament to a future that had been cruelly taken from them.

The boy stood cautiously, studying Apollo with a curious intensity. His golden locks tumbled over his forehead, and he wore a simple chiton that only enhanced his cherubic innocence.

“Can I see this, sir?” The boy’s voice was soft and melodic, yet firm and confident—far beyond his six years. His eyes darted to the lyre in Apollo’s hands, and Apollo finally realized what the boy wanted.

But Apollo was too shocked to speak. The boy stood silently, waiting for Apollo's response. When he finally understood, he nodded. “Of course.”

The boy took careful steps toward Apollo. As he stood before him, the sun god wondered who had raised this child. Most children snatched what they desired without hesitation; they didn’t wait politely for anything. Yet, this boy's sea-green eyes looked up at him with pure innocence and curiosity. He bent slightly to study the lyre, his hands kept respectfully to himself as if he were afraid to touch it.

Apollo realized the boy wouldn't touch the lyre unless he gave it to him.

“Here,” he extended the lyre to the boy. “You can hold it.

The boy hesitated, shaking his head. “No, no, it must be precious.” His voice was filled with a respectful reverence that belied his age, making Apollo's heart beats with admiration.

Apollo gave the young boy a gentle smile. “No, it will be fine here,” he said, pushing the lyre into the boy’s hands. The boy took it with utmost care, his eyes filling with wonder as he studied it. He looked at the lyre as if it were the eighth wonder of the world, his interest and amazement clear.

“Can I ask how you made it, sir? It is amazingly beautiful,” the boy asked, his curiosity shining with pure beauty and innocence.

Apollo smiled fondly, remembering how the lyre came into his possession. “My brother stole my cattle and gave this to me,” he chuckled.

The boy chuckled too, hiding his mouth with his small hands. “This reminds me of a story Mama tells me, about the sun god and the messenger of the gods.”

Apollo froze. The boy’s interest shifted back to the lyre, while Apollo tried to process the millions of questions racing through his mind. His mother told him stories? Apollo was about to ask more when the boy looked up and spoke in his soft, melodic voice. “If you don’t mind… can you,” the boy paused, choosing his words carefully, “can you teach me how to play it? The melody you played was beautiful.”

Apollo, still dumbfounded, watched the boy. “I think I figured out how to make it, but I want to play it for Mama. She seems sad lately, and she loves melodies so much. She sings me lullabies, but I don’t know any to sing for her. So maybe, maybe I can play her something nice that makes her smile.”

Questions swirled around Apollo’s mind. How could a child so young speak with such confidence and wisdom? But the most pressing question came to his lips. “Where is your mother?”

The boy, still focused on the lyre, answered, “On an island.”

“Where is the island?” Apollo asked.

The boy smiled as if Apollo had asked something silly, his smile bright and peaceful. “In the sea,” he said, then paused. “But Mama says the sea is dangerous.”

Apollo looked at the boy, confused. The boy’s answers seemed to reveal everything and nothing at the same time. Dangerous sea? He couldn’t be Percy’s son. Apollo's shoulders slumped. He couldn’t be Percy’s son. Perhaps his mind was creating illusions, offering a glimpse of a future he could never have, mixing him and Percy together to create the child Apollo had always dreamed Percy would carry.

Apollo looked into the boy’s eyes—Percy’s eyes—deciding that maybe, just maybe, he could live this dream for as long as it lasted. For as long as this dream allows him, he wants to imagine that this, indeed, is the child he created with his love. He held the boy’s hand, guiding him on where to place his fingers on the lyre. “Here, let me teach you” he said softly, positioning the small fingers with gentle precision on the lyre’s strings.

The boy was, in fact, the eighth wonder of the world, Apollo thought, as he looked at the young boy whose golden locks glowed in the sunlight.

Once—that was all the instruction the boy needed to create the most beautiful symphony Apollo had ever heard. The boy’s fingers danced over the strings with an innate skill, plucking and strumming as if he had been born for this. The melody flowed seamlessly, each note a shimmering thread weaving through the air, enchanting everything around them.

Apollo smiled fondly at the boy, who was also in amazement, his radiant smile outshining even the sun. The sea sparkled with the boy’s joy, and the sun, feeling almost humbled, began to set beyond the horizon, casting a golden portrait over the world.

Suddenly, the boy stopped and carefully extended the lyre back to Apollo. “I have to wake up now. Mama will wake up soon, and I can’t let her do things alone.”

Apollo’s brows knotted in confusion. “Where are we now?”

The boy smiled brightly. “We are dreaming, of course.”

Apollo took the lyre, looking at it before turning back to the boy. “You can have it.”

The young boy shook his head, making his golden locks jiggle. “It is a gift from your brother. It is precious.” He smiled, a smile that warmed Apollo’s soul, his beautiful sea-green eyes glowing with kindness. Apollo didn't want to wake up. He just wanted to see Percy’s eyes a little longer. Even if it was a hallucination, he wanted to remember those eyes longer.

The boy smiled at Apollo as he began to turn his head. “Thank you for helping me make Mama happy. Next time, when we meet, I’ll try to teach you something too.” And with that, the boy started walking away, slowly dissolving into the dream's fabric.

It didn't take long for Apollo to lose consciousness of the dream. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in his bed on Olympus, the morning light casting a gentle glow through his window.

Apollo sat on his bed, his chamber unchanged, Olympus glowing just as it always had. But his heart was heavy with a sorrow that even the gods would struggle to bear.

A sad smile graced Apollo’s lips—a smile that held an ocean of pain, a pain too deep for mortals to fathom. The Fates had always been cruel to him, but now even his own mind seemed to conspire in their cruelty, conjuring hallucinations to torment him.

A young boy, the eighth wonder of the world—a boy he could have had if Percy were still with him. If only she were here, somewhere beside him. He was certain she would have adored this boy, cherished him with all her heart. But he was not real.. And his Percy was not here.

Apollo rubbed his eyes, longing to wake up, to return to his duties, to mourn a girl whose disappearance remained a haunting mystery. And to mourn an imaginary son, whom he was certain he would never see again.

—————————

Gaea’s Island

Percy was puzzled by her son’s urgency that morning. After helping her with his brothers, he dashed outside, claiming to have something important to attend to.

She didn’t pry too much into Milo’s affairs, trusting that whatever he was up to, he knew how to avoid trouble, unlike her eldest, Hector. As long as it was Milo, she assured herself, he would be fine.

But Milo had been unusually preoccupied for days now. Whenever Percy found him, he would hastily hide something behind his back, claiming it was important. Percy didn’t dwell on it, assuming it was a surprise he didn’t want her to see. She smiled at the thought.

Then, she heard it—a beautiful melody that froze her in place. For a moment, she thought it was a dream, a hallucination conjured by her own longing. an image of a man with the most beautiful sky-blue eyes, creating serene melodies for her suddenly occupied her mind.. But the sound of footsteps snapped her back to reality. She followed the sound, Hector and Luke trailing behind her, until she suddenly stopped.

On the grass sat a young boy with golden locks, his sea-green eyes shining with joy as he looked up at her. Her Milo. In his hands, a wooden instrument created the most enchanting melody she had ever heard since she arrived to this island

It didn’t take long for Percy to realize what her son had made. Her heart swelled with oceans of emotions, pain, sorrow, pride and love as she beheld her precious Milo, crafting a lyre with his own small hands.

Percy approached Milo, her heart overflowing with a mixture of confusion and love. A single tear traced its way down her cheek as Hector and Luke stood nearby, mesmerized by the beautiful sound emanating from Milo's creation.

Milo looked up at her with a bright smile, but confusion clouded his features as he furrowed his brows. “You don’t like it, Mama? I made it for you.”

Without hesitation, Percy rushed forward, enveloping Milo in a tight embrace, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love it… I love it so much.”

“Then why are you crying?” Milo asked, puzzled.

“They're tears of happiness, my love,” Percy whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Tears of happiness—tears of memories, pain, and pride. Tears of many things.

Milo pulled away, showing Percy the delicate wooden instrument he had crafted. “Here, let me show you more,” he said eagerly, his fingers deftly plucking at the strings.

As Milo played, Percy couldn’t help but notice how he resembled his father in that moment. Not a mere version, like Luke, but a reflection—a radiant embodiment of his father's spirit.

Then it struck her—how did Milo know about the lyre? It was Hermes who created it, nd given it to Apollo, later becoming Apollo's symbol. How could Milo know exactly what a lyre looked like? She had always believed that their father lived on in their souls, but she never imagined it would manifest in such a tangible way.

Puzzled, Percy looked at her son. “How did you learn to make this?”

Milo beamed at her, his eyes sparkling with the wisdom of the universe. “In my dream, of course, Mama.”

The answer did little to quell Percy’s bewilderment. She watched as her son proudly displayed his creation, insisting that she should smile because he had made it for her happiness. He even taught his brothers how to hold it so they could all bring joy to their mother.

She watched them take turns playing, each displaying a pure talent they hadn’t known they possessed

Her Milo, her precious children, and her precious lost love…

A few days later, the lyre disappeared from the island, as if it had never existed before.

[cepheusgalaxy]

☃️Brazilian traditional looks☃️

A slice of an introdution

--

Art by unknown, if you who it is from, please warn me and I'll give the proper credit

This outfit featured in the drawing is traditional from the North East region, which is the one I'll be rambling about since is the one I know the most

This outfit isn't used for day-to-day and casual ativities, but mostly for special events.

The dress' name is baianinha

Before going into more details, it is important to highlight how the country, and specially the North East part of it were influenced by african culture.

The Africa is a wide and huge continent, full of the most diverse cultures, some of which, due to the diaspora, were bought here.

The Brazilian culture is, fundamentally, a mix of indigen, african and portuguese culture. Our language was a contribuition of the Portugueses, and many of it was also influenced by the Tupi (one of the most spoken indigen languages in the territorry), from which we have many many many words. The enslaved black people bought here also bought their cultures, and that was a big influence for the cuisine, the dances, the kid games and the clothes. We all know what Europe looks like and their culture doesn't differ much so we know what portugueses bought (some influence in the cuisine, the clothes ofc, the dances and stuff).

Dependong of the area of the country you're in, some specifics aspects of the culture may stand out. For some historical reasons (I won't be explaining here becaude it would make this way longer), the european imigrants from Modern Era went mostly to the South, and the black enslaved and no-more-enlaved were concentrated in the North East; the native people (indigenous brazilians) managed to stay in the North, and as so you can see a larger influence of White Culture in South and South East, a larger influence of Black Culture in the North-East, and a larger influence of Indigenous Culture in North.

The baianinha outfit has its roots bonded to afro-origined not only culture, but religions, like the candomblé and ubanda, in which the praticers use similar clothing. In Bahia (North-east), one of the most black influenced states of Brazil, this one is quite of a symbol.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

I LOVE when I'm reading a fic about the Three Caballeros and they make Zé be from Bahia. It's just too funny. His surname is lit "from Rio de Janeiro" but for some reason some american writers make him be from Bahia and it amuses me soo much.

That being said a tip for pleople who want to integrate the Bahia onto Zé: there was a lot of migrations of people from brazilian northwest (for a long time mostly rural) to brazilian southwest (full of industrialized cities), people looking for better condicions that mostly were not met.

Bahia is the biggest northwest state and Rio is the second biggest southwest state. It wouldn't be a shock if Zé grandparents (or even his parents) were from Bahia. It would actually fit well with him having such a connection with the place while saying he never visited it.

[anachronismstellar]

Me, writing 2 am again: why create an entire island from nothing when Brazilian historical cities are right there-

[bat-the-misfit]

imagine if brazil had a boyband

[sporadicinfluencertiger]

Morocco Demystified - Marrakech

It was by chance I found myself sitting aboard an aircraft bound for Morocco. The previous week as I contemplated my next destination, the country was not in contention. It was November and many of the European destinations under consideration were experiencing poor weather. Then, as if by happenstance, I was offered a fare to Marrakech (Marrakesh) for just €26 (about $25US). Morocco is a country…

[nhyphk]

We always crossed the old bridge That's falling apart now. And so are we. There's shadows of us on the way home. They disappear right when you look at me. I see your pain, you want me to stay But I can't survive this another day. There's dreams that I found that can't become real. You're all that I want but I'm not what you need. And once again, look at this sky It's crying for us, it's screaming for us. I love everything about you I love morning rains when I'm holding you Coffee smells like you and it taste just like, too. But I'm sure this is what I got to do 'Cause if I stay and the storm comes again It might destroy what's left of me and you It's ending now and painfully I'd stay forever in your arms But I'll walk home alone tonight Look at you, another brick that's cracking. I know you're here, but it just feels like empty. And it's too late now, yeah, I have to go It's cold out there and darkness awaits It's haunting down our memories, It's burning down our history. I'm all that you want but I'm not what you need. What if a black hole swallowed us in? Or a meteor hit Earth, erased everything? I can't escape this, it's not my fault. Why can't you accept me and my flaws? Oh, mystery, what's become of me? Hurting for a design that's fading?Hurting for a design that's fading? Why can't I stay if I want to? Because maybe love isn't everything. And once again, look at this sky It's crying for us, it's screaming for us. I love everything about you I love morning rains when I'm holding you Coffee smells like you and it taste just like, too. But I'm sure this is what I got to do 'Cause if I stay and the storm comes again It might destroy what's left of me and you It's ending now and painfully I'd stay forever in your arms But I'll walk home alone tonight And once again, looking at this sky now It's crying for me, it's screaming for me. I love everything about you, But I love me more. #poem #lyrics #writing #byme #walkhomealone #love #pain #paradise #gay #pride #poetry #morrodesãopaulo #praia #beach #brasil #bahia #paraíso (at Gamboa, Ilhe De Tinharé, Bahía, Brasil) https://www.instagram.com/p/ChPsZxpu05w/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[tf2heritageposts]

There is: (i got too excited and it's a bit long sorry)

What kind of brazillian foods/drinks the mercs would like the most

Scout:

He would love any kinds of street foods, his favorite ones would be coxinha, a fried snack stuffed with chicken; Hot dogs in the São Paulo way, they usually have mashed potatoes, corn, peas and shoestring potatoes above (with ketchup and mustard, of course) and pastel, a fried dough (the texture is similar to a puff pastry) that can have many kinds of fillings, the most usual one is mozzarella cheese. He also would love eat this while drink sugarcane juice (it's a classical combo).

Soldier:

This one is funny, bc in my head all the other mercs had to lie to him that they were getting 100% american food so he could at least try some, and he keep eating it without knowing the thruth. His favorite ones would also be ones of the most iconical ones, by irony of the destiny, such as feijoada and pão de queijo. He would also love farofa (is made either with corn or cassava, braised with oil and can have diverses other igredients too) but since Soldier is build diferently, insted of eating it as a side dish he just cook a huge ass pan of farofa and eat all of it with a spoon.

Pyro:

He would love brigadeiro, because is sweet as him (awwn). He would love churrasco (brazilian barbecue), so much that he, engineer and sniper would be the ultimate churrasqueiros of the team (however only engineer and sniper are alowed to touch on the grill since the incident). From the many things that can be made in a churrasco, Pyro likes garlic bread the most (because it gets burned at outisde really quickly but still ok to eat). The last thing from his list would be cuscuz paulista, recipe that blend corn flour and many other igredients, and that people from other brazilian states keep saying its ugly but THATS UNTRUE YALL JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT - me, a sad paulistana.

Engineer:

As said before, he would love churrasco, and any kind of red meat should be his favorite (picanha, striploin…). He would also like the local beer options and condensed milk pudding (pudim). No special rasion on the last one (besides giving all the mercs at least 3 itens).

Demoman:

He would LOVE drinking cachaça (alchoolic drink made with sugarcane) and caipirinha as well (drink made with cachaça, lime, sugar and ice). For eat, his favorite food should be torresmo (pork skin with fat cut into small pieces and fried until crispy), that is also a good side dish in brazilian bar's.

Heavy:

His first favorite option would be estrogonofe, wich is actually a brazilian version of a russian recipe (stroganoff), with some alterations. He would also enjoy virado à paulista (plate composed of a beans and cassava flour mix, together with pork chop, tuscan sausage, fried egg, braised cabbage and a piece of breaded banana), it's a really big meal to a really big guy. Finally, he would go for "caipiroska" for drinking, with is a caipirinha variation but with vodka in the place of cachaça (wich i didn't know existed until i started writing this kkkkkk)

Medic:

Cuca de banana (a cake with bananas and a sugar & cinnamon on top) would be one of his favorite desserts (it also has a germanic origin i also didn't knew kkkkkk). He also would like specific foods from Bahia, such as Acarajé (dumpling made from black-eyed pea dough, onion and salt, and fried in palm oil, can be stuffed with shrimp or other options of filling) and cocada (candy made with coconut), but I can't specify why yet bc it envolves a headcanon/AU i'm still making and i want it to be a silly surprise, i'll edit here once it's done.

Sniper:

The last one of the ultimate churrasqueiros, his favorite item would be chiken's hearts. Aparently pumpkings are very used in australian culinary, so i like to imagine he would also like doce de abobora (dessert made with pumpking). Finally, i guess tapioca (cassava gum, can be fried like a pancake and stuffed to taste, among other uses) just suits him idk.

Spy:

He would love Carolina (looks like a éclair, but is smaller, rounder, and filled with dulce de leche) and sonho (fried dough, usualy filled with vanilla cream and with sprinkled sugar above. The name of this recipe translate to "dream" in a literal form btw kkkkk). Ending this list, Spy would enjoy queijo com goiabada (a slice of minas cheese thogeter with a slice of guava paste).

Thank you for reading until here, and sorry if i made you fell hungry hihihi

holy shit this is so good

also i want carolina that looks so good

i also want the sugarcane drinks, please god i’ll do anything

[zzzennin]

I'll single out the hq fandom today, as a Brazilian I absolutely hate, despise and get mad when I see some Hinata is a fucking horndog, or incredible good a sex cause HeS bEeN tO bRaZiL. Like.

Y'all

Y'all.

Can we please have something fun without fucking it up with your fucking stereotypes? Believe or not, Hinata would experience so much more than samba and sex, brazilians are not this sexy, sensual country you think it is, do you even know from where this came from? From our dictatorship government that tried to sell the country as a sex paradise and this bullshit had shit implications to this day.

Brazilian people being incredible sexualized by the rest of the world, most women not being treated like human beings when we go out or just assumed to be prostitutes, to be grabbed by random gringos cause BRAZILIAN LOVES TO FUCK RIGTH????

So, everytime someone writes something that little Hinata came to brazil just to become this sex God because you know, those brazilians, is just so fucking sad and disappointing but not surprising. Never is surprising to be remembered how y'all don't give a shit about us latinos, you don't care to learn anything else about here to make your headcanons, beach and carnival is enough and of course all the sex he had.

But, yeah, Hinata did came to Brazil and he loved here, not for what you think he did.

Hinata thought was so fucking weird when the "egg car" went down his street the first time, there's a car with a megaphone selling eggs for 10 bucks.

Mangoes on the streets blew his mind, mangoes are so expensive in japan and here you can go anywhere and just grab and eat, for free? And taste amazing?

Batata palha he wanted to get a box to take back home, tiny potato chips that you can put in everything to make it crunchy? Perfect.

Also, brazilians always make their one versions of foods, sushi with cream cheese, salmon and cream cheese being sold in a cup as sushi? He was borderline offended.

Fruits are so cheap and taste so good.

In July is kinda cold, so they have this huge party called festa junina in celebration of crops and all the corn and peanuts foods are amazing. He likes to see the quadrilhas juntinhas dancing, one year he even got to dance as the groom.

Bahia was one of his favorite places to drink a caipirinha in a large cup in the beach with some acarajé was just amazing.

A few of my personal headcanons from his time here, we have much more to offer.

[justforbooks]

Astrud Gilberto, who has died aged 83, became the best known female bossa nova singer, thanks to her cool, breathy and delightful treatment of The Girl from Ipanema, a song that sold more than a million copies when it was released as a single in 1964, and introduced the laid-back, sophisticated Brazilian musical style to a vast new audience across the US and the rest of the world.

Gilberto did not write the song, and had not previously been rated as a key figure in the bossa nova movement, as she had never sung professionally before. But that one hit record changed everything. She became the impossibly cool voice, and face, of what would become a new global pop music fashion.

The song was taken from the album Getz/Gilberto, a collaboration set featuring the American saxophonist Stan Getz, who had become fascinated by bossa nova, and the Brazilian guitarist João Gilberto, to whom Astrud was then married. She performed only two songs on the album (the second was Corcovado) but The Girl from Ipanema guaranteed that she would become as well known as the album’s two official stars. The song also transformed her husband’s career, but they never enjoyed its success together as their marriage broke up later the same year. Astrud went on to develop her own career, and continued to work with Getz.

Born Astrud Evangelina Weinert in Salvador, in the Brazilian state of Bahia, she was the daughter of a Brazilian mother and German father. He taught languages and literature, and decided to name his three daughters after goddesses of German mythology – Astrud, Eda and Iduna. When Astrud was eight the family moved to an ocean-front home in Rio de Janeiro, where she studied at the Colégio de Aplicação.

As a teenager in the late 1950s, she became friends with the singer Nara Leão, and through her she met the other emerging stars of Rio’s new bossa nova music scene, including the extraordinary guitarist João Gilberto. Also born in Bahia state, he had moved back to Rio after an uneasy career in which he had been fired from a band because he could never be trusted to turn up for rehearsals, and had then spent months living with an elder sister, practising and perfecting a new style of romantic and reflective music.

Bossa nova mixed Brazilian samba rhythms with influences from the American “cool jazz” scene, and featured an understated vocal style matched against an acoustic guitar technique that combined plucked chords with jazz-influenced harmonies and chord progressions.

João Gilberto’s work impressed the composer Antônio Carlos “Tom” Jobim, who began writing songs in the new style, helped by the lyricist Vinicius de Moraes. The first bossa hit, Chega de Saudade, in 1958, was followed by a full album with the same title the following year. Bossa nova shook up the Brazilian music scene, and João was the star performer. In 1960, when Astrud was 20, she and João were married.

The newlyweds did not stay in Rio for long. American jazz musicians including Charlie Byrd visited Brazil as part of President John F Kennedy’s Good Neighbour programme, and were excited by the new music that they heard. Back in the US, Byrd recorded the album Jazz Samba with Getz, another convert to the new style, and it became a massive success. It was now inevitable that João Gilberto would be invited to the US to perform, and in November 1962 he appeared in New York at a famous concert that also included both leading Brazilian bossa nova musicians including Jobim and Sérgio Mendes and the American jazz stars Byrd and Getz.

João and Astrud stayed on in New York, and in 1963 he recorded his collaboration album with Getz, with help from the producer Creed Taylor. One of the songs they wanted to include was Garota de Ipanema (The Girl from Ipanema), a song that had been written by Jobim with lyrics (in Portuguese) by Moraes, as they sat in a bar off Copacabana beach in Rio, watching the girls go by.

There is controversy as to how Astrud came to sing The Girl from Ipanema on the album. There have been suggestions that Taylor suggested that English lyrics should be included, and that Astrud offered to sing them, because she spoke English, despite the initial protests of her husband.

For her part, she always insisted that she sang on the album at his suggestion, and that he admired her voice. What is not in dispute is the commercial success of the decision. When the song was released as a single, in a shortened version to encourage radio play, it became a massive hit, reaching the top 5 in the US charts and No 29 in the UK. It also helped to further boost sales of the Getz/Gilberto album on which it had first appeared; at the time, it was credited as the bestselling jazz LP in history. The song would later be covered by singers from Frank Sinatra to Amy Winehouse.

Astrud’s relationship with João was now at an end (they divorced in the mid-60s), but her career was just beginning. She toured with Getz and appeared on his 1964 live album Getz Au Go Go, covering both bossa and American standards, and in 1965 she released her own first solo set, The Astrud Gilberto Album, which included songs in both English and Portuguese.

The following year she released two more albums, including Look to the Rainbow, on which she worked with Gil Evans. In 1964 she appeared in two films, The Hanged Man and Get Yourself a College Girl, and in 1966 she worked with Quincy Jones on the soundtrack to the Sidney Lumet spy thriller The Deadly Affair. For many years she was the voice of Eastern Airlines, and appeared in their TV commercials.

She never enjoyed massive success as a soloist, but was a prolific artist and continued to collaborate with other major musicians. She began writing her own songs in the 70s, and her 1977 album, That Girl from Ipanema, included a duet with the jazz trumpeter Chet Baker on one of her songs, Far Away.

In the early 80s she formed a band that included her son Marcelo playing bass, and in 1987 she recorded an album with the James Last Orchestra that included several of her own new songs, including Champagne & Caviar. In 1996 she contributed to the Aids benefit album Red Hot + Rio, singing the bossa classic Desafinado with George Michael.

In 2002 she was inducted into the Latin Music Hall of Fame, and released what would be her final album, Jungle, which featured 10 of her original new songs. She also announced she was taking “indefinite time off” from public performances. She now devoted much of her time to animal rights projects and her work as an artist. In 2008 she was awarded a lifetime achievement Grammy by the Latin Recording Academy.

She is survived by Marcelo, her son with João Gilberto, and her son Gregory, from another relationship.

🔔 Astrud Gilberto (Astrud Evangelina Weinert), singer and songwriter, born 29 March 1940; died 5 June 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[perseabeth]

< What If >

this is a one shot written about @anotheroceanid amazing fic titled When the Horizon Bloom, read it on AO3 you will enjoy it very much and cry very much too - i do not own the idea of the fic and i certainly do not own any character. this is a version of “What if” things happened differently in the fic. enjoy ✨ and i’d love to thank the author again for the amazing fic that i’m becoming obsessed with

****

Percy paced back and forth in her cabin, a growing sense of unease gnawing at her. She felt lost, unsure of whom to turn to, and the lack of dreams last night only heightened her fear. Sleep eluded her; every time she closed her eyes, she was jolted awake by terrifying nightmares.

She had faced Kronos, defeated titans, and held the weight of the world on her shoulders in Atlas’ place. She had endured experiences far worse than any nightmare could conjure, living through horrors that would break most. So why was she so afraid now?

A soft knock on the door pulled Percy from her spiraling thoughts. A blonde-haired girl peeked in. "Seaweed brain?"

Percy lifted her gaze to meet her friend's. Annabeth's gray eyes were filled with concern, as if sensing something was wrong. "You missed breakfast... is everything okay?"

Percy tried to muster a small smile. No, nothing was okay. Morning sickness was wreaking havoc on her, and the nightmares of gods punishing her were relentless. "Yes, I'm okay. I just woke up late," she managed to say, though it was far from the truth.

Annabeth looked at her silently for a minute, her eyes seeming to penetrate Percy’s thoughts. Percy was always amazed at how Annabeth’s eyes mirrored Athena’s, reading a person like an open book. she gulped, hoping Annabeth would believe her words. After a moment, her friend nodded slowly. "Your training starts in 15 minutes. The class is almost ready."

Percy gave a slight smile and nodded. "I'll be there." Yet Annabeth lingered at the door, as if waiting for Percy to confide in her. Realizing she wouldn't get any more information, Annabeth gave a final nod and closed the door behind her.

Percy hated lying to her friends and hiding anything from them. Since the war, they had all promised to be open with each other, to support one another through the healing process. But what could she say? That she was pregnant? Carrying a god’s child? No, not even one—three. Three small lives growing inside her, and she had no idea who to turn to.

She did have an idea. She wanted to turn to everyone around her, but her dreams held her back. Demigod dreams weren’t mere dreams; they were messages, visions, and warnings. And here she was, sleep-deprived because she dreamt of her children being killed while their father watched, emotionless.

The day passed rather quickly, as if Kronos had cursed time to hasten her doom. Everything was normal; life at camp went on as usual. Campers were enjoying themselves, chatting, sneaking drinks, and partying as if there were no worries for tomorrow.

It was ironic how carefree they all seemed. They had won a war and were free, savoring the remnants of their mortal lives. Yet, Percy was once again carrying the weight of the world. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed something strange about her. Then the news would spread like Greek fire, reaching the gods, who would learn of the prophecy. Percy and her children would be doomed.

Unconsciously, she wrapped a hand around her belly, as if trying to shield them from the inevitable. Just then, Percy noticed a pair of lingering gray eyes. "Still not feeling well?" Annabeth's voice pulled her from the ocean of her thoughts. Percy quickly removed her hand from her belly, afraid the gesture might reveal too much. "Yes, don't worry. I think I had too many cookies," Percy muttered, attempting a smile to reassure Annabeth. But she knew her friend wouldn’t buy it. Annabeth nodded silently.

The thing about a daughter of Athena was that she knew when something was wrong. But she waited for you to confide in her before uncovering the truth herself. That’s what Annabeth was offering Percy—time to reveal what was going on before she forced it out of her.

—————

The Olympus council raged with energy—too much energy for Percy’s mortal form to bear. She had been here multiple times before, she reminded herself, but nothing had prepared her for this moment.

She tried to catch her father’s eyes, but he immediately looked away, as if unable to bear the sight of her, ashamed. Her heart sank, and her soul felt like it was shattering. She needed someone to hold onto, but there were too many eyes on her, filled with anger and power. Desperately, she searched for other eyes, gentler eyes that had once looked at her with all the love in the world. Eyes that had held her tight, swearing to protect her from everything.

Percy sought his eyes—sky blue, like a beacon of light amidst the darkness. Her heart yearned for him, remembering how he had looked sitting leisurely on his golden throne, just like the first time she had seen him there. Yet, she couldn’t find those sky-blue eyes. Instead, she was met with golden eyes, burning with rage and a promise of pain.

"Well?" Her uncle's voice thundered through the room, the echo making Percy shrink. She had never been afraid of gods, never. She would have kicked the door of Olympus open and marched in like the hero she was. But today wasn’t about her. It wasn’t about harming her. It was about harming those precious to her—her children, hidden within her belly, shielded from the room's volatile energy.

"Apollo, what do you say about this, since you are, after all, the father?" Zeus’ voice was like thunder, each word more terrifying than the last. His tone dripped with sneer, as if the whole situation was beneath him.

Percy’s eyes remained on her lover, whose gaze had become a foreign land. Apollo did not speak; he just stared at her, as if silently threatening her, blaming her for their predicament. Then, with a cold, emotionless voice, he sealed her doom. "I will have none of this," he stated, turning his gaze back to his father. "They might be mine, but I will not claim them, and they will face the wrath of the gods like anyone else who dares to overstep their position."

Fog and mist clouded Percy’s vision. Tears welled up, blurring her sight. Perhaps her tears were merciful, blocking his face from her so she wouldn’t remember him like this—so emotionless, so heartless, promising punishment. This was the true Apollo, the one she had read about in books, the one who punished Cassandra and skinned a satyr alive. This wasn’t her Apollo. This wasn’t the gentle touch of the sun that had held her warmly. This voice wasn’t the sweet, melodic one that had whispered love to her. These eyes weren’t the beautiful ones she had always admired.

Zeus’ voice cut through the room again, sharp and authoritative. "Then the children should be punished and thrown into Tartarus, and they will take with them anyone who stands in the way." Zeus looked at her, a silent warning in his eyes—'You will go with them if you object.' He continued, "All in favor?"

Percy looked around in horror, her gaze landing on her father, pleading silently for mercy. But all she got in return was, "I agree."

All hands were raised, not one sparing her or her children. Cold, merciless eyes looked upon her, not with pity but with disgust, as if she had committed an unforgivable sin.

Percy’s tears could no longer be held back. She fell to her knees, perhaps because her legs could no longer support her, or perhaps because she wanted to beg. She didn't know. All she knew was that she was crying, her sobs echoing throughout the room, her trembling voice barely holding together.

"Please don’t. Please, please. I’m begging you. Please don’t harm them. Please. I’ll take them away. I’ll raise them far from here, but please don’t harm them."

She wasn’t sure if she was making any sense, wasn’t sure what she was even begging for. All she knew was that her heart was shattering, her soul was dying. She felt an immense, unbearable pain, and she was screaming.

——

Percy jolted awake, the room cloaked in darkness, but the light of the fountain was enough for her to recognize her surroundings. She was in her cabin. Safe and sound. She was safe, and her children were safe.

Tears filled her sea-green eyes once more, her heart shattering anew. For the first time, her cabin, her mini-heaven, felt suffocating. The events of her dream rushed back to her, and Percy could no longer hold back her tears. She needed to get out, needed to breathe. Air was scarce in the cabin, and she needed more.

With shaky legs, she stood and rushed to the door, trying to find air, trying to calm her sobs, but she couldn’t. She burst through the door and into the night. She didn’t remember where she walked or where her legs carried her. All she knew was that she found herself in the middle of a path lined with trees, the only light guiding her being the moon’s gentle glow.

She tried to control her sobs, tried to take deep breaths to calm herself. She was safe. They were safe, she reminded herself.

A sudden movement behind her froze the blood in her veins. She sensed him—felt his presence. His energy was always so warm, so peaceful, that she could always feel him. But this time, this peaceful energy brought her only fear. She didn’t dare look behind her, didn’t dare see if those eyes had turned golden again. She didn’t dare to hear that cold, merciless voice. So Percy stood there, wrapping her arms around herself, protecting herself, protecting them from the coldness she had just begun to feel.

"My love?" His gentle voice was like a sweet whisper, so lovely and filled with emotion. It carried love and concern, just as she was used to, before her nightmares.

"Percy, my love, why are you here?" he asked again, his voice almost a whisper, as if afraid of startling her. That’s when she broke down again. Hearing his voice like that only reminded her of her nightmare, her visions, and what his voice might sound like when all was exposed.

Percy didn't remember how it happened, but she found herself enveloped in warm arms. She remembered his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings in her ear as he held her, shielding her from the coldness of the night. It was ironic how the person she feared was the one giving her peace and comfort now, the only one capable of calming her tears. She sensed the fear and worry in his voice as he held her, felt his concern through the gentle touch of his hand soothing her hair.

If only he knew what he would become in the future...

She stayed there for what felt like minutes, maybe hours. She didn't even realize when he had picked her up and led her to a rock, where he sat with her wrapped in his arms, still caressing her hair and calming her down. She didn’t dare speak or look at him, afraid her eyes and voice would betray her

After what seemed like forever, she finally dared to look at him, to meet his gaze. He allowed her to lift her head, and she saw his eyes—beautiful, clear sky-blue even under the moonlight. His eyes were filled with love and gentleness, just as she remembered, now mingled with concern. Percy’s sea-green eyes locked with his, afraid that if she looked away, his eyes would turn to gold again. Her lover didn’t speak, only looked at her, always considerate, always patient, waiting for her to find peace before finding her voice.

“What’s wrong, love?” he muttered, his voice carrying the gentleness of the world. He brushed away the hair blocking her face, soothing her racing heart. He waited for an answer, but she shook her head, still unable to find her voice.

She felt terrible lying to him; she couldn’t look into his eyes and deceive him, so she averted her gaze, studying her surroundings. Only now did she notice they were in the middle of the forest. Suddenly, a warm hand gently held her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes again. “Percy… what’s wrong?”

She knew this tone—the tone of demanding answers, answers he would get no matter how long he has to keep her wrapped in his arms. A voice inside her head, a tiny voice, told her she could trust him, find peace in him, that he would protect her as he promised. But that voice was immediately drowned by the ocean of nightmares that filled her nights.

Percy shook her head again, trying to find her voice, now raspy from screaming and crying. “J-just a nightmare,” she muttered, still unable to look away as he gently fixed her chin with his warm fingers, holding her gaze.

Apollo studied her for a few minutes before gently stroking her hair again with his other hand. “A nightmare that made you run to the woods in the middle of the night?” he asked, still gentle and patient.

Percy simply nodded and muttered, “A bad nightmare.”

His gaze never left hers, studying her while his hands continued to soothe her. “What was it about?”

Percy gulped. She knew he would ask. He was always curious about every detail of her life, always there listening to her nightmares. He wouldn’t let this one go.

She looked at him, still holding his gaze, as if trying to show him she was being honest. “About the war.”

Apollo simply nodded before Percy felt the gentle touch of his lips on her forehead, kissing away her worries. His warmth spread throughout her body, comforting her, enveloping her in peace. For a fleeting moment, Percy wanted to believe that all was perfect in the world.

He whispered, his lips still on her forehead, "My love, have I ever told you how terrible of a liar you are?"

Percy's heart sank as nightmares rushed back to her—the memory of his cold voice, his golden angry eyes, and his indifferent gaze. She could feel her heartbeat in her hands, only for him to look at her again, his beautiful blue eyes meeting hers, guiding her through the darkness.

His eyes held nothing but pure gentleness, a hint of teasing, and a lot of love. His fingers started brushing her cheeks gently as he spoke again, his voice as gentle as a feather, "You are a terrible liar, and I love that you try to lie to the god of truth." He kissed her nose affectionately.

Speechless and unsure of what to say or how to react, Percy was overwhelmed. her silence didn’t seem to bother him as he continued to brush her cheeks and pepper her face with sweet, gentle kisses. "Now tell me, what’s wrong?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern and love.

Percy couldn’t do anything but shake her head as she attempted to free herself from his embrace, only to find him holding her tighter. He remained silent, patient, silently facing their battle as she struggled against him.

She heard him sigh, and for a split second, fear gripped her—fear of him running out of patience, fear of meeting those golden eyes again. But the more she protested, the gentler his hold became. She looked into his eyes again, his lips curving into a small smile. “You aren’t going anywhere, my love, until you tell me,” he stated, his voice filled with warmth.

She shook her head as silent tears started rolling down her cheeks. “I-I can’t,” she whispered.

He shook his head, as if her answer wasn’t what he was seeking, before kissing her tears away, wiping them away with his lips. “Yes, you can, and you will, Percy,” he sighed before continuing. “I know you well enough to know that nothing, absolutely nothing, could make you run into the middle of the night like that unless it was something terrifying.” He kissed her forehead again, as if aware of the calming effect his gentle kisses had on her. And he wasn’t wrong. The more he did it, the more she felt at peace in his arms, despite all the nightmares.

He gently continued, still holding her gaze. “You looked at our dear grandfather eye-to-eye and stood your ground. I know my Percy. Nothing can scare her. So tell me, my love.”

She wanted to, oh how she wanted to tell him everything, to spill everything and hold him close. But she knew she couldn’t. She knew how he would react, and she knew what they would face.

Percy shook her head again, tears streaming down her face as she forcefully freed herself from his grasp. She couldn’t bear to look at his hurt expression, the pain in his eyes as she distanced herself from him, as if she were afraid of him. And who could she lie to? She was afraid of him.

She kept shaking her head, trying to make him understand. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he had to understand. She struggled to find her voice again. "I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!" she repeated, tears flowing freely. The night’s coldness enveloped her once more, while her body begged her to return to the warmth of his arms. Percy tried to look at him, hoping he would spare her from explaining anything, but she was once again met with his beautiful blue eyes, tinged with pain and uncertainty. His voice broke her, destroying all the self-will she had been trying to gather, as he whispered, "Don’t you trust me?"

She does! She wanted to scream at him that she does, that he was foolish to even doubt it. But does she? Percy questioned herself as she looked at him again. does she trust him? If she did, she wouldn’t feel afraid of him. If she did, she wouldn’t believe he would harm her or their children.

The longer she took to answer, the more pain showed in his eyes as his gaze locked onto hers. Then he spoke again, almost in a whisper, his voice showing hints of pain. "What did I do?"

Silence enveloped them, the night alive with the symphony of the forest. The rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant hoot of an owl, and the occasional chirping of crickets provided a backdrop to their conversation, amplifying the tension between them.

She kept looking at him, observing how he tried his best to understand what he had done wrong. Knowing him, he was probably going through a mental list of things he thought he might have done.

But how could she tell him?

“You didn’t do anything,” she finally said, her voice quivering.

“Then why?” he pressed.

“Why what?”

“Why are you looking at me like you aren’t sure whether you are safe with me or not?” he asked, his eyes still fixed on her, waiting for any reaction.

Percy couldn’t handle this anymore. She couldn’t tell him anything, yet she couldn’t not tell him anything. He stood there, hurt, thinking she didn’t trust him, yet he was so far from the truth.

Apollo slowly stood and stepped a little closer to her. Blame it on her nightmare or her lack of sleep, but she couldn’t help but take a step backward, earning her a quizzical look from him.

“St-stay away,” she muttered, hoping to stop him. She realized too late that her words had indeed stopped him, but not in the way she wished, as he stood frozen, looking at her with pained eyes. For the first time in her life, Percy witnessed fear in Apollo’s eyes.

She had hurt him, deeply. But who could blame her? If anyone with a healthy mind saw these visions every day, they would react the same way.

She tried to speak again, hoping to remove that pained look from his face. “I-I didn’t mean it that—“ But before she could finish, he spoke again.

“You are scared of me… What did I do?”

That’s when Percy broke down again. Maybe it was hormones, maybe it was nightmares, maybe it was a terrible mix of both, but she couldn’t bear to see that look on his face. She started sobbing, holding her face in her palms. She felt him hesitate, unsure whether to step closer or stay where he was, knowing she was scared.

Percy kept sobbing as she muttered, "It’s not you... You will harm us... In the future, you will harm us... I can’t let that happen... They don’t deserve this!"

Apollo’s voice cut through her sobbing state as he simply questioned, “Us? They?”

Here’s a few things about Percy: sometimes words don’t go through her brain before speaking them out, which has gotten her into trouble with gods, titans, and monsters alike. When she is in distress, this tendency becomes even worse, and following order becomes harder for her. And in that special moment, Percy was in her most vulnerable state as she couldn’t control her sobs. Gaea had warned her to be careful with every word she says, but it’s not Percy’s fault that Gaea trusted her with such a mission. And it was too late when Percy realized what she had done as she looked at her confused lover. It was too late to withdraw her words; her tears still blurred her vision as he stood in front of her. “I-I mean us, me and you,” she stammered.

Apollo shook his head, didn’t he just tell her how terrible of a liar she is? “You just said ‘they’? Who are they, Percy?”

She wanted to run, to escape now, never look back because she just realized that she had messed up everything. Her tears were uncontrollable at this point, but she couldn’t let herself drown in them. She needed to stay awake to face him, but with what? What could she say?

In a blink of an eye, she felt warm palms cupping her cheeks, caressing them softly as his eyes poured into hers. “Who are you talking about?” he whispered gently, as if he was aware that whatever topic they were approaching was something destroying her.

Was it worth lying at this moment? Percy questioned herself. Maybe Gaea had promised to save her from all, but was it a real solution? Was she able to run from the twelve Olympian gods forever? Was she really able to postpone whatever destiny her children might face? She is a child of prophecy, and she knows how hard it is to escape prophecies. Was any of it really worth it?

She could feel a voice in her head telling her to confide in him, and another screaming and shouting at her, telling her that these nightmares would come true, and she was only making them come quicker. She could feel invisible hands holding her throat, preventing her from talking, a pressure almost preventing her from breathing. But one thing, one small thing, was holding her like an archer holding a ship amidst a dark storm: his eyes. Those gentle eyes that looked at her with all the love and concern possible. Eyes promising her that he would protect her no matter what. And in that second, she trusted those eyes, for they had never broken a promise.

“Our children,” she whispered, maybe even afraid that he would hear. But she knew that he heard, because the frozen state he was in proved that he did, in fact, hear.

His frozen state only fed her fears more; his eyes never left hers, but he was oddly silent, and that didn’t help her at all in this situation. She regretted blurting it out; she regretted not controlling herself, and she was about to regret confiding in his eyes when the silence was broken with his voice.

“You are—” he began, but couldn’t finish. He waited for her to finish, waited for her to spill the words so she could confirm them.

Tears rolled from Percy’s eyes again. That was it, that was the moment she had dreaded. But when was she a coward running away? Never, and she never would. Percy nodded, still holding his gaze, as she finished his own sentence. “—pregnant.”

And again, frozen, he was back again to that state where his eyes widened, looking at her, searching her eyes for any hint of a lie. She had to break this silence; she had to speak. She led armies, so she could lead a conversation, even with tears rolling down her eyes.

“triplet.. But there’s a prophecy… Dangerous… Gods will be angry… You will be angry… A lot of danger… Tartarus… I need to prote—” But before she managed to finish her incoherent speech, which she was sure made no sense, she felt warm lips on hers.

It was a gentle kiss, soft and tender, like a feather brushing against her lips. It was a kiss filled with happiness, reassurance and love, a silent promise. In that moment, all her fears melted away, replaced by a sense of peace and warmth. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, letting herself be enveloped by his love.

Maybe she wished to believe that it was a normal pregnancy announcement; maybe his kiss did make her feel like that. And for moments, she wanted to believe that. He broke the kiss only to replace it with another tender kiss, and another, and another.

She tried to whisper between kisses, reminding him of their situation: “Prophecy.” But it only gained her an inaudible mumble as he kissed her one last time. Maybe he didn’t hear her incoherent speech; maybe he was also wishing to live in his own world for a few minutes.

He looked at her again, and if she thought that she already found his most beautiful gaze, she was wrong. Because at this moment, there she found the most beautiful gaze. He looked at her with eyes full of love, happiness, pure happiness he barely showed, besides when she confessed her love for the first time. But now, it was a new type of happiness, a new type of hope. His hands never left her cheeks as he kept caressing them with even more tenderness. He whispered, “I love you... so much,” before kissing her again softly and mumbling, “Thank you.”

She hated to break that moment for them; she hated to ruin this happiness. But she had to. She had to tell him the full truth since he already knew the worst part of it. “Prophecy,” she mumbled again. That’s when she caught his attention, and he spoke, “What prophecy are you talking about my love ? I heard of nothing.”

She took a deep breath before she spilled everything to him, from the moment she discovered her pregnancy to the prophecy, to the nightmares, and even Gaea's secret mission in 'helping her'. She could feel Gaea’s rage; don’t ask her how, but she could feel it.

Only after saying everything did she finally dare to look at Apollo, who was now holding her waist with his brows knotted in confusion. He was silent for a few minutes, her anxiety at its peak as she waited for any word from him, anything.

Maybe after telling him everything, he would agree with her plan with Gaea? Maybe he would agree with how dangerous her children are? Maybe he would say that the prophecy could be wrong? She didn’t know. But she did know one thing: his face showed pure curiosity and not anger.

After what seemed like hours, he finally spoke softly, "No." She looked at him in confusion.

"No..." he repeated again, Percy still not understanding what he was trying to say, when he cupped her cheeks and forced her to look at him. "I don’t care what this prophecy says. I’ll have a talk with Rachel for hiding this. But I don’t care what it means."

Percy whispered, afraid of raising her voice, "You are the god of prophecy, you can't say that."

He shook his head, his blue eyes still filled with determination. "If me being the god of prophecy means I’ll let harm come to my children, then I’ll let Delphi crumble to pieces."

"No harm will come to them. I will not allow any harm to come to them, and I don’t care if the price to pay was Olympus itself," Percy tried to shake her head, as if she was warning him that he was saying nonsense, but he fixed her face and made her look at him. "Nothing, and absolutely nothing, will harm you or our children, love," he stated. "I swear it on the River Styx." A sudden thunder broke the silence of the forest.

An oath... he just made an oath while holding her as if he didn’t just make the most sacred oath. Percy tried to reason with him, "But Gaea—"

Apollo shook his head again. "I’ll not let anyone take care of you. I don’t trust anyone with you, and especially not a primordial goddess that was supposed to be sleeping."

"But Olympus—"

"I’ll deal with them. Leave them to me."

"But—" She tried to protest when his lips found hers again in a gentle kiss, silencing her. "Stop with buts. Nothing will happen, and you have the word of a god. I will never allow anything to happen to you... all of you." That’s when his eyes were suddenly filled with happiness and gentleness again. He suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug, burying his nose in the crook of her neck.

As he mumbled in her neck, in a soft, gentle tone, "Gods, Percy..." and "Thank you," she didn’t understand what he was thankful for, but she was sure of one thing: for the first time in weeks, she felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders, just like when Atlas took the weight of the Earth from her again. Yet this time, she felt utter peace. Complete peace.

For the first time in weeks, she felt her heart filled with happiness. She was in his arms, the arms of the one who made a sacred oath to protect her and her children. Not just her, but also them. And maybe, just maybe, it was worth it.

It was worth having this nightmare so she could find him here tonight. Maybe the Fates really took pity on her... just maybe, there is hope.

[cepheusgalaxy]

Oh you're Brazilian, correct? *saw ur bio*

I was wondering if there's anything I should or shouldnt do when making a Brazilian OC.

Oh hi!

First of all, thank you for the ask :) I'm very happy you decided to make a brazilian oc, whatever is the reason (if any at all lol) 👍 Keep up the good work.

Now, generally, what you should avoid are the most common stereotypes assossiated with latin people in general (like the Latino Lover stereotype), and some specifically assossiated with us a lot:

The Soccer Player ("every brazilian [black] guy obv plays soccer"), the Samba Dancer ("every brazilian black girl dances samba"), the Sexy Brazilian (everybody has their preferences ig but try to step away from fetishization--also falls into the latino lover a little) and the Carnival Party Person ("brazil is a very big carnival party all of the time") are some examples of stuff you should avoid.

Some things I would advise you to consider aside from this are A. Their race, B. The area they're from and C. Cultural differences (I'm gonna list them in a bit).

I mention race here because a very common thing in Brazil, actually (at least if you don't consider the South/South East) is the miscigenation phenomena. Long story short, some centuries ago, the colonizers had an... "idea" of toning down the population of black people in the country, so interracial relationships were very incentivated to "breed" lighter skinned black people. Results: On this day, most brazilian people in the Northern areas are not 100% black, but very very mixed (like me). A lot of people have dark skin, though.

Now, the area where they are from would also play a big factor in the things you want to consider, because Brazil is big, so we generally divide it into five areas (this division was made in 1969 i think, by the IBGE--the brazilian institute of geography and statistics): The North, North East, Central West, South East and South. If you search for a map with this categorization you'll be able to see it.

Culturally, these areas are very different, but I'll go through them briefly here.

North - most of the indigenous folk are concentrated here (for many historical reasons) and here is also the Amazonic forest (a bit of it is in other countries' territorries but I don't remember exactly which). The demographic density (which is the amount of people per say, mile) is very sparse, and despiste it being the largest area out of the five it isn't the most populated. Indigenous cultural heritage is the strongest here.

Nort East - warmest area in the country. The majority of people here are black or brown (for a lot of other historical reasons i unfortunately can't go on about here but they are very interesting if you wanna search up) and African cultural heritage is the strongest here.

Central West - has a very little amount of states here, and also the Federal District--aka the capital, Brazilia (fun fact: Brazilia isn't localized in any state, like the capital used to be, it is separated, so that's why we say Brazil has 26 states + one federal district). I don't know a lot about this one, so I'm gonna rely on Google a little, but basically:

That's the only area that is not bathed by the Atlantic, so no sea here at all, and back in Colonization Days, it was a very explored area for mineration (one of the states here, Minas Gerais, was named because of that, fun fact). Most of the population here is white (50,5%) and brown [mixed race] (43%) source (wikipedia page for the Central West in portuguese).

South East - as we go down here, the areas start getting cooler and whiter. The biggest cities of the country are here: São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. White population, as I said before, is strongly concentrated here, because Back In Colonization Days, a lot of europeans (mainly italians and germans i think, although i might be wrong on this one) migrated to there and the South because the climate is more like in Europe than in the northern areas. This is probably what most people think when they say 'Brazil' (that or the amazonic forest, ofc), because media wise, it covers mostly carioca Carnival (Carnival from Rio de Janeiro) or the super urban city of São Paulo. Fun fact: One of the Seven World Wonders, the Christ The Redeemer statue is located there, in the RJ.

South - smallest area in the country. There are literally just three states here. It's also the coolest area out of the five, and there is even snow here! The European heritage is very strong here, also because of the migration from a few centuries ago.

If you want more insight on a certain specific area for your character, I'd be very happy to help! :) I myself am from the North East, so I have the most information about that, tho.

Now about the cultural differences in general.

A few important things that really differ are:

The culinary (depends of the area, though: up north it will have more african and indigenous dishes, down south there will be more european dishes and stuff)

The climate (if your character is from the northern areas, they will have a hard time adapting to any cool areas they might be in now--in the North East we're used to an average 25º C, or 70º F, for example, so if things go cooler they're gonna want to be very warm)

The measurements (celsius degreees vs farhenheit, miles vs kilometers, centimenters vs feet and inches, etc.)

The calendar: In the South Hemisphere, unlike in the North Hemisphere, summer is on the last and first months of the year and winter is in the middle. Basically, the seasons are inverted up there in relation to here

The school year also works a bit differenly, for that matter: Janurary and the first week of February are summer vacations, and then the year starts. A few weeks later, we have a few more weeks off for Carnival, so no school then too, and *then* you could say the year actually starts. In June (winter), we have a 10-day break for São João festivities (at least in the North East because São João is a cultural "festival"--if that's the right word), and then summer break starts around the end of November or the end or December, depending on the exact school.

Oh yeah, and one more big difference your character might find strange assuming they're in the US or a similar country now: In Brazil we have a thing called SUS - the Unique Health System (Sistema Único de Saúde), which is a free health service for everybody, funded by taxes. I heard that in the US all medical care is private, so I wanted to highlight that in Brazil we have free public healthcare and then also the private hospitals, so that could cause some cultural chock, lol

Same thing for college: There are a lot of public universities. There are actually many differences between usamerican and brazilian education system, but the main ones are that.

If you have any further asks, feel free to send them, I'd love to go deeper into one single thing if you want it. Good luck with your oc <2

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Brazil’s Eucalyptus Monoculture Threatens Biodiversity and Indigenous Rights

Valued for its termite-resistant wood for building purposes, pulp to create products like writing and toilet paper, and its oil, which has numerous health and household benefits, the eucalyptus tree generates big business worldwide. Native to Australia and Tasmania, the prehistoric tree has been planted in such volumes that eucalyptus plantations cover some 25 million hectares around the globe—larger than the entire land area of the United Kingdom. By 2028, according to forecasts, the global eucalyptus oil market is projected to exceed $213 million, while the worldwide market for eucalyptus pulp will expand to nearly $17 billion.

But the eucalyptus industry has a dark side. Eucalyptus plantations growing in regions spanning South America, southern Africa, southern Europe, and Australia have significant detrimental impacts on local communities and biodiversity. Communities located near eucalyptus plantations are likely to face water shortages—as these plantations utilize huge amounts of water—and pollution from agrochemicals, including exposure to glyphosate, which has been linked to various health problems, including increased cancer risk.

In addition, the presence of eucalyptus trees’ leaves and roots hinders the growth of other plants beneath them because they contain a biocidal oil that inhibits the survival and decomposition of most soil bacteria that come into contact with them.

In eastern Brazil, eukalyptus plantations have replaced the diverse and endemic Atlantic Forest ecosystem, with some municipalities seeing nearly three-quarters of their land area being covered by eucalyptus plantations.

Brazil is the world’s largest eucalyptus producer. With an estimated 7.6 million hectares of eucalyptus plantations, Brazil maintains 30% of the world’s total eucalyptus trees. In eastern Brazil, particularly in the states of Bahia and Espírito Santo, these plantations have replaced the diverse and endemic Atlantic Forest ecosystem, with some municipalities seeing nearly three-quarters of their land area being covered by eucalyptus plantations. Large corporations such as Suzano, Fibria, and Veracel dominate this industry, exporting eucalyptus as pulp for manufacturing products like toilet paper.

Continue reading.

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

i just spent more than an hour doing this first-division world map quiz in jetpunk and these are my results:

i scored 609/3795 so 16%. i'm actually very embarrassed cause i had multiple brain farts and i couldn't remember some very very easy ones (don't worry i WILL talk about them). but first of all, the most embarrassing one of all. i missed la rioja 💀💀💀

i'll talk more about my cagadas (and not cagadas) after the read more cause it could get lengthy lol

first of all, I'M SO SORRY ALL OF LATAM 😭😭😭😭

let's start with mexico... when i tell you i wrote 'california del sur' like dozens of times and was genuinely shocked it wasn't counting it like correct like the quiz was bugged or something lol. i will never forget it's baja california and not del sur i promise. there's also so many of these i should've got: campeche, durango, cuanajuato, méxico, puebla, querétaro, quitana roo, san luis potosí, sinaloa, and veracruz AT LEAST.

for argentina, chubut gave me so much trouble... like i knew i knew it but my brain just wouldn't told me. and as you can see, i didn't got it 😔. also i hate that if i had guessed la rioja i would've gotten 2 points en fin.

i have no idea why the netherlands were like this... i was so ready to name the provinces i actually know quite a few of them

i know it's the easiest to get, but i got all belgium :)

also all pakistan :)

brazil 😔😔😔 i should've gotten bahia, espírito santo, goiás, and rio grande do norte & do sul...

i can't believe i missed new brunswick in all US + canada

so so sorry portugal :( i should've gotten bragança, évora, leiria, santarém, setúbal, viana do castelo and vila real

i'm not putting the china one cause it's too large but when i tell you i wrote like 20 times heilongjiang cause i knew it and where it was but did not. write it correctly. at any point.

i'm also not putting russia for obvious reasons but i had so many brain farts with it. i can't believe i missed chukotka, amur, irkutsk, ivanovo, magadan, murmansk, nizhny novgorod, novgorod, samara, smolensk, volgograd, vologda, voronezh, yaroslavl, adyghea, buryatia, ingushetia, karelia (this one gave me so much trouble yall), tuva, udmurtia, khabarovsk, and primorsky, all of them i perfectly knew :/

i knew all four of these but only kosrae came to mind rip me i guess

france gave me SO MUCH TROUBLE i kept coming back to those two last regions in mainland france and i could just not remember their names. the worst thing is at one point i wrote 'val de seine'... so close 😔

germany and italy humbled me so much. i thought i was gonna know every single division and i did horribly lol

i might've not gotten all of the divisions in my country correct but at least i got all greece (not counting mount athos) :)

I WROTE JIJU INSTEAD OF JEJU 😭😭😭😭 also for the life of me i could not remember train to busan

india is also a long one but it gave me sooo much trouble i couldn't remember ANY. en fin, i should've gotten AT LEAST arunachal pradesh, manipur, mizhoram, tripura and uttar pradesh.

i don't know what's worse, that i almost got all israel or that i forgot tel aviv 💀💀

en fin. that's all. maybe i'll try again some other time.

[stoneysbitch]

Thanks for the tag: @templeofalice @stonesponytail and @l0st-d0gs ❤

Tea, coffee or soda: Tea

Dogs or cats: Both <3

Can you play any instruments? Nope

What's your sign? Scorpio

First song lyrics that pop into your head? "And I'm right on time / And the birds keep singin / And you're right on line / And the bells keep ringing / And the battle is won / And the planes keep wingin / And I'm right on time / And the girl keeps singing"

Do you have any tattoos? No

Favorite place you've traveled? Salvador, Bahia, Brazil

What's the last movie you watched: Pretty In Pink

What languages do you speak? Portuguese and English

Do you have any hobbies? Singing (I used to be part of a choir when I was a teenager) and writing (but this one is on hold atm)

You can hang out with one fictional character for an hour. Who do you choose? Bridget Jones lol

Compliment yourself: I admire how I can be loyal to my loved ones without expecting something in exchange

Open tag <3

[cherrygorilla]

Carrie’s Basic Info

Whilst I try to get back into the swing of writing TMM after my holiday, I thought I’d put together a little mash-up of some of the character posts you’ve done for your characters, Danelle, but with the only OC of mine that has any real development: Carrie! So hopefully you have fun learning a little more about her!

I couldn’t really find any actresses that I feel totally match how I picture her to be, but I loved that post you did where you put all the different actors for your characters together for each decade, so I gathered together 4 throughout the ages that at least somewhat fit her. 

So, going from left to right, for current times we have Florence Pugh (which I never really thought about until I saw her in the Don’t Worry Darling trailer, and then as soon as I saw her with that beehive hairstyle it all clicked lmao), for the 60s we have Jane Fonda (I mean come on, that hair is perfect for Carrie lol), for the 90s we have Sharon Stone (she has Carrie’s little smirk there down to a tee) and for the 80s we have Kelly Preston (I know I’m basing a lot of these on hair alone, but that permed hairstyle she had in the 80s has Carrie written all over it lmao - she would have really thrived in the 80s).

Alright, now onto the actual information bit, which is pretty much just her answers to the prompts from the ‘basic info’ posts you put together for your characters. But if there’s anything I’ve missed out that you’d like to know then just let me know and I can add it in! 

Name: Caroline Samantha Cole

Nickname(s): Carrie (duh), Coral (only by the surfers), Squidge (only by her dad - he loved calling her and Tanner silly things when they were little - she was Squidge because of her squishy little face, and he was, and still is, Pebbles, thanks to a long-term habit of stuffing his pockets with them any time he went to the beach), Rolie (only by her grandpa - clearly the silly nickname thing is genetic, but at least it’s part of her name), Carrie-oke/Coleslaw (Ethan - had to throw him in here too, because nicknames are kind of his speciality lol)

Age: 20

Birthday: May 20th

Zodiac: Taurus

Birthstone: Emerald

Nationality: American, Hawaiian (just from her grandma on her dad's side though)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthplace: Bayfront Health, St Petersburg, Florida 

Current Residence: Bahia Shores, St Pete Beach, Florida 

Occupation: Actress

Schooling: Went to public school up until the middle-end of her sophomore year but then had to leave when she booked her first TV movie. She tried to go back once filming wrapped, but she got signed up to be in a new TV show pretty soon after and had to drop out fully. From then on she just did her schooling on set with her co-stars and, although she eventually graduated, she never got a proper ceremony or a prom or anything, which she’s still low-key kind of bummed about. At least she can live vicariously through the characters she plays though!

Talents/Skills: Singing, dancing, acting, cooking, doing her makeup, talking shit & managing her curly hair 

Birth order: Oldest (by seventeen, precious minutes)

Sibling: Thomas "Tanner" Lewis Cole (her twin)

Parents: Brett Kanoa Cole and Martha Louise Cole

Signature: 

Autograph:

Height: 5' 6'' or 168cm

Eye Colour: Blue

Hair Colour: A dark, golden-y blonde

Glasses or contact lenses? None. But the same may not be able to be said for her in TMM…

Distinguishing features: Her huge mane of curly hair; freckles across her nose and cheeks; a rather infectious, megawatt smile; a pretty bold, expressive fashion sense; a tattoo of doodled musical notes on the side of her ribcage; some stretch marks around her hips/butt area that she's super self-conscious about; and two moles right next to each other on her inner arm that Miles draws a little smile under at every opportunity he gets 

Mannerisms: Talks with her hands a lot, has pretty intense facial expressions (useful for acting, not so useful when she's trying to not come across as a total drama queen), hums to fill the silence; checks her appearance pretty much every time she notices her reflection (some people blame her vanity, she blames her industry-fuelled insecurity) 

Health: Nothing really, she just gets really bad period cramps. 

Hobbies: Singing, surfing (now that her managers aren't restricting her time at the beach), cooking, sewing (her mom is trying to teach her, but she doesn't really have the patience, or free time, for it), shopping, and learning lines (yes, she considers it a hobby lol)

Greatest flaw (in their opinion): How strongly she feels all her emotions/how deeply things affect her - it's draining to live on such an emotional rollercoaster 

Greatest flaw (in reality): Her obsession with her image and how the world sees her, especially when she lets it cloud her better judgement (besides her fiery temper, jealous streak and raging narcissism, of course) 

Best quality (in their opinion): Apart from the talent she built her career around, probably her loyalty - she's very much ride or die for those that she really cares about, which is something she values in others, so naturally she thinks it’s her best quality too

Best quality (in reality): Whilst she sees it as a flaw, her deep connection with her emotions is actually one of her best qualities - she's so passionate about her relationships (both romantic and friendly/familial) that she puts her whole heart and soul into everything she does for them; and will often go out of her way just to show them how much she cares. Plus it's super useful for her job; after all, it's what makes her such a good actress. 

Biggest fear: Failure. Failure in her career. Failure in her relationships. She just hates the idea of disappointing people. That's why she's so dedicated to her work; she's scared of doing a bad job and ruining her reputation. She's scared of letting her parents down after all the money they funnelled into her dance classes and singing lessons. She's scared of destroying her relationship with Miles because she keeps failing to fit in with his family. She doesn't want kids because she's scared that she'll fail as a mother since she's got such a demanding job. But then she's scared that she'll be failing Miles because he's such a family-oriented guy and she won't be giving him a family of his own. I could go on and on lmao. But yeah, as the ego-centric, go-getter she is, failure is definitely her biggest, and deepest fear. Needles and spiders are probably the answers she'd jump to first though ngl. 

Favourite ice cream: In her world, cookie dough. But when she went to Mick's world and discovered salted caramel it was a total gamechanger. 

Favourite colour: Actual colour-wise, like an aqua blue. But failing that, gold…or anything glittery, tbh. 

Favourite number(s): 1…duh! Or 20 because it's her birthday date.

Favourite movies: Her go-tos are Gentlemen Prefer Blondes or Mamma Mia (depending on the century/universe she’s in lol). But the real answer, that she would rather die than admit 90% of the time, is the 1950s Disney Cinderella cartoon. It’s been her favourite ever since she was a little girl - it’s just the most beautifully magical love story in her eyes; nothing else compares. Plus, she’s always been a dreamy, Disney Princess girly at heart - under all the bravado and occasional bitchiness. But if she ever gives up that information, you know for a fact it’s not by free-will - and whilst the select few that do know think it’s adorable, they do dish out their fair share of lovable teasing. 

Favourite songs: She's such a music-oriented person that this was super hard, but I'll narrow it down to just a few… It's All Coming Back to Me Now by Celine Dion (to belt in the shower); About Damn Time by Lizzo (to dance around in her underwear to); Lucky by Britney Spears (because she feels like she can relate); Tonight from West Side Story (a song from her time she just thinks is beautiful) and I’m The Greatest Star from Funny Girl (her favourite song to perform since it’s so good at inflating her ego)

A place they want to visit: Paris, partly for the shopping, but mostly for the food. It does help that Miles is desperate to go there too though…