#anyway hi nico this is for you also <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[aroaceleovaldez]

Nico and Percy's dynamic through the series is eternally funny to me, because it's just. like.

Percy's having a constant mental struggle between his fatal flaw of loyalty with a promise he made to Bianca to protect Nico, versus his Big 3 kid desire to maim other Big 3 kids / Poseidon descendant urge to totally maim Nico specifically. He hates Nico so so much. He thinks Nico's annoying and weird at best, and creepy/sketchy when he's older. The only positive thoughts Percy has towards Nico are "He's Bianca's brother and Bianca was my friend and I owe her/He's Hazel's brother and Hazel is my friend and would kill me if I was mean to him," "He's a powerful asset and useful ally (if questionable)," and "He's kinda pathetic and I feel maybe a little bad about it." Percy has multiple occasions throughout the series where he strongly considers - and on one occasionally actually goes through with - throttling Nico.

Meanwhile, Nico is following around Percy like a lost puppy. He explicitly can never bring himself to even dislike anything about Percy no matter how hard he tries. He has a whole bit in BoO where he's mentally going "UGH he's so stupid BUT IT'S ENDEARING HOW DARE HE." He's totally smitten. He's making deals with his dad for Percy. He's making convoluted plans to help Percy stand a chance against Kronos. During the entirety of BoTL it's like he's playing tsundere - "I'm helping NOT PERCY SPECIFICALLY with this quest! Me helping Percy would be SILLY because I DEFINITELY HATE HIM." Then he proceeds to show up to Percy's birthday party to basically ask him on a weird date and spend the entire next book scrambling around trying to help him or protect him or impress him. And Percy could not give less of a shit.

Just. That dynamic is so funny to me. Percy is the founder of the Nico Protection Club in that he's the one they're all protecting Nico from and meanwhile Nico is throwing himself at Percy to the point where the literal god of gay love calls him out on it.

[angeart]

hhau mimic arc rambles part III bonus: the eclipse

(~2,8 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

Every couple of years, there’s a total eclipse in this world. The moon is big, obscuring the sun in a horrible totality, entrapping it for what feels like too long. This is a big event, but not because people are eager to spectate the sky and bask in its weirdness. No, it has much worse connotations.

Because the eclipsed moon affects many of the hybrids. Especially the animal ones.

Hunters look forward to the eclipse because it promises a lot of loud, distressed, instinct-driven hybrids scattering about without many defences. They prepare traps specifically for this occasion and organise big hunting parties, eager for the upcoming bloodbath and bounty.

The eclipse happens mid-winter while Scar and Grian are on the server.

And it’s awful.

[cws violence, murder (no known characters), panic, mind-altering states and a loss of self control, haywire instincts, non-consensual manhandling, horrory vibes]

They don’t really know what is happening at first. Hermitcraft is a safe server which has many things coded differently, and because eclipses hurt many hybrids, they never happen there. So Scar and Grian have never experienced anything like this, and the yank it has on Grian’s state in particular is startingly sharp and terrifyingly confusing.

Scar himself is alright, because—and the two of them don’t know this at the time—vexes are immune to the eclipse. 

Actually, that’s not quite accurate. The eclipse helps heighten their magic.

They thrive.

Grian does anything but thrive.

His instincts go absolutely batshit haywire. He starts getting disoriented and incredibly uneasy, anxiety holding him in a choke hold, and all rationality and caution leave him, replaced by pure fear. 

He starts making inadvertent chirping sounds, panicked, and no matter what Scar says or does, Grian can’t seem to stop.

It’s so dark outside. And Grian’s chirping isn’t the only one that sounds through the forest.

In a world where they thought avians might be all nearly hunted to extinction, there are now suddenly, in this darkness, piercing faraway chirps. Just as panicked and lost-sounding as Grian’s own.

But those are not the only sounds the looming forest has to offer.

There’s also hollering and cheers. Whistles and barks. Twigs snapping under careless boots. Hunter parties following every single hybrid noise right to its source only to slice it shut. Shrill, chilling screams before some hybrid inevitably plunges into absolute, horrifying silence.

Scar’s desperately trying to get Grian to shush. He pleads him to stop, to be quiet. Tries to calm him down.

But it’s all futile. Grian has no control over himself. He can’t make it stop; it’s a wholly new kind of fear, overpowering and unfamiliar, yanking at his instincts. (It feels, a little bit, like a huge moon crashing down while the ground underneath him shakes and disintegrates.) (It feels like locking eyes with someone and not being sure if he’ll ever get to see them again.) (It feels like apocalypse. Like the end.) (His mind screams at him and he can’t help but scream along with it.)

Scar wonders if he should put a hand over Grian’s mouth. He doesn’t know what to do, but the hunters are out there, in large numbers, tireless and eager, and Grian’s voice is now the beacon luring them over, pinging with their exact location.

Grian is slowly backing away, hunched, feathers puffed. His wings are semi-curled around him, no longer tucked under the cloak, even though they’re out in the open. 

He doesn’t seem like he’d do well with being touched.

But Scar needs him to be quiet. For Grian’s sake too.

Before Scar can do anything, though, Grian’s earwings flit wildly and he whips his head to the side, honing in on some noise.

It’s a distressed chirp, one that sounds closer than any of the other ones. 

It’s an avian in distress calling for help.

Grian thought there aren’t any avians but him, and now there is one, still alive, so very close, desperate for aid, and— Grian’s mind blanks. There’s only one single thing to do here. He isn’t thinking. His heart beats wildly in overdrive. His body moves.

Blindly, Grian bolts in the direction of the sound. 

And it’s up to Scar to scramble and run after him. 

It’s more than that. More than just following Grian. Because there is so much at stake, and he needs to stop him and quiet him and— And he might have to exert force, and—

Oh. He is basically hunting Grian down here.

He is the hunter following in the steps of a terrified avian.

And Grian, in his dazed and fragmented perception of the world, feels just like prey. There is so much happening for him right now: it’s dark and all he can see is Scar’s piercing vex eyes when he glances over his shoulder; he’s lost in panicky instincts, trying to reach another avian in distress, hurtling blindly towards potential danger; and he does feel hunted.

On top of that, he can’t stop the stream of bird noises. He can’t pull his wings under his cloak either. He’s stumbling and tripping and scaping himself all over, but he feels like he needs to keep running.

He no longer knows if he’s even heading the right way. The chirping he was following fell dead silent. His head is just screaming at him. Hot white panic and a cacophony of unstoppable, overpowering instincts.

Scar has to stop him before he gets himself killed.

As awful as it is, Scar doesn’t care about that other potential avian (it could be a trap) nearly as much as he cares about Grian. His priorities here are clear, desperation thick and loud in his lungs, pressing at his ribs. There’s no time for bargaining or for steeling himself. 

He needs to act.

Scar grabs Grian and tackles him to the ground.

He’s pinning him down, sort of straddling him, hands on Grian’s mouth, hopelessly trying to muffle the noises. He feels absolutely vile, but he doesn’t know what else to do. His breaths come in little sharp huffs of blue magic, shiny through the darkness as he expels a ton of emotional energy just to keep himself from panicking and crying.

He finds that it’s not as easy to hold Grian down when he doesn’t want to be pinned down. But also it is. It is easy, far too easy—harrowingly so. Grian’s so light. (It frightens Scar to even touch the thought of how simple this would be for the hunters too.) 

He’s terrified of hurting Grian accidentally. He’s very capable of it; Grian’s made of brittle hollow bones after all, and Scar’s grip is a bit too strong, but he doesn’t have a choice here. Grian won’t stop thrashing, fighting to be freed. (But Scar knows that letting go would almost surely result in Grian’s death.)

And where Grian’s attention is kind of selective, not processing things at all, Scar’s attention is sharp—sharpened by panic—keenly attuned to their surroundings. He hears all the various noises come and go. Not necessarily chirps; other hybrids, too. Them falling silent. The hunters yelling. And the screams. God. The awful screams.

They’re all too far away for now, thankfully, but if Grian won’t stop, they’re bound to come this way. After all, if Scar can hear them, surely they can hear Grian too—?

Scar feels nauseous and horribly helpless. The hunters cheer and laugh as the hybrid noises go dead silent, one by one— only the hounds left barking and howling in their wake.

Scar knows that, even though it’s awful, they can’t help any of those hybrids. But he’s going to do everything in his power so that at least the two of them can survive this.

Despite all his (pointless) efforts, the hunters catch up to them anyway.

As they approach, Scar is struggling to quiet Grian down, and Grian isn’t thinking straight enough to properly fight. It’s the worst possible situation. 

There’s no point in quieting Grian down anymore when the hunters are right here though, and so Scar moves on the defensive, ready to give it all to keep Grian alive. The fight is ugly, drenched in frightening desperation; Scar is numb to the pain even when something tears. Grian’s chirps get worse. Warmth drips down Scar’s face.

But then a different sort of howling breaks through Scar’s mounting panic, and—

A group of wild vexes rushes in. Not to save Scar and Grian in particular; it’s just a lucky timing.

Because as it turns out, just the way hunters set off to hunt down hybrids during the eclipse, the vexes—who are more powerful at this time, magic thrumming strongly in their veins—set off to hunt down the hunters. So nicely accumulated for them. So loud. So easy to find. 

The vexes and the humans clash, and in the swell of the chaos, Scar manages to drag Grian away. 

He wants to keep going, increase the distance between them and everyone else as much as possible, but all too soon the forest opens up into fields, and no way he’s pulling a dazed Grian out there where they can’t hide. So instead he swerves, anchoring them against a rock formation—an array of boulders and a jagged cliff wall. 

He presses Grian into a small dent there, covering him with his own body (imprisoning him there, in a way). Hiding Grian’s wings, muffling his chirps, whispering frantic things that are meant to be soothing. The sky is still dark, and Grian’s still chirping, although it’s quieter now; it’s clear he’s exhausting himself, but he’s still making noises. Still unable to stop, despite the terror and the fatigue.

They get found again.

But it’s not the human hunters that find them this time. It’s the vex group, sneaking up on them, all their sharp edges drenched in blood, glowing with magic.

Scar turns his back to Grian, still pressing against him, tucking him against the rocks, hiding him as much as possible. He’s ready to lash out. He’s ready to fight with these vexes, even if he’s outnumbered. (He’s got no species loyalty here, after all.) 

In a curious tone, one of the vexes says: “That avian is going to get you killed.”

The words register to Grian through the haze. He’s still absolutely lost amidst this all, barely understanding the world around him, struggling to process anything. But there’s something about the words avian and get you killed, and the thought of Scar, that makes it through the fog.

It only serves to make him more distressed. He breathes in sharp, shallow breaths, and his chirping grows louder again, high pitched. But it’s not just the chirps this time. Some of the sounds he makes are choked, merging into something more like himself—the sound of helpless sobs.

Scar is shielding Grian with his back, but that means he’s turning his back on Grian’s cries and all of his misery. He cannot comfort him. He has no words that would make Grian not afraid right now.

The vex suggest leaving Grian or—worse—using him as a bait.

Scar’s staring them down, growling lowly, one eye squinted as blood runs down his face. “How about you leave.”

The vex don’t budge. They think they’re after a good thing here, after all. Surely, Scar also wants these hunters dead?

What they’re suggesting isn’t to sacrifice Grian as a bait—they don’t actually want to outright hurt or endanger him, even if it maybe doesn’t translate well through their stance and words. They’re not malicious in that way. What they’re suggesting is simply pragmatic in their minds. (I mean, they wouldn’t grieve if the avian happened to die there, but it wasn’t their goal to let it happen.) 

“We’re hunting the humans,” they note, as if that should’ve been enough to sway Scar. “We could use the avian—”

“No.”

One of the vex, white hair braided and smile sharp, peeks past Scar, trying to glimpse the feathers. The violet shade reflected in the glow of their magic tells him everything he needs to know, sating his curiosity, and he whistles, impressed. Amazed that an avian like this has lasted so long.

Scar lunges at him for getting too close.

He gets laughed at in return. What’s he gonna do, all alone? Not even channelling his magic to heal his own wound. It’s just funny to them. Cute. “What’re you going to do?” they tease, a bit too cheerily for the situation at hand. It rings threatening. “You’re outnumbered, pal.”

Scar doesn’t back down. “I’d take at least one of you down with me.” It’s a big statement. Covering up all of his nauseating fear and unending tension. Because he’ll do it. He’ll fight if he has to, and it will be ugly, and he might fail—he might die—but he’ll for sure give it everything he has.

And he can tell there’s camaraderie between this group of vexes. That they don’t really want any of them seriously hurt. 

They, as vexes, know the best how dangerous a feral, cornered vex with something to protect can be.

There’s a sliver of respect this earns Scar, unbeknownst to him. The will to stand up to them even when he’s outnumbered like this. To not give in to the pressure and instead fight for his values. For what he cares for.

The white haired vex—seemingly a leader of the group of sorts—reiterates, tone a bit lower, that the avian is going to get Scar killed. That he’d be better off without him. (Essentially voicing the deep rooted fear Grian already has.)

He also extends an invitation, almost in the same breath, impressed by Scar standing up to them. But it’s only Scar who is invited, and it’s blatant—the condition laid down is drop the avian or let’s use him as a bait and hunt together. 

With sharp ire and a swell of protectiveness, Scar counters that he’d be better off without them, actually.

There’s a snort and a mocking, “Aight, let’s see how long you can last.”

The relief Scar feels when they relent and leave is immense, leaving him weak in his knees.

He thinks they’re foolish, risking themselves like that. In his mind, they’re the definition of the violent vex, that dark reputation that seems to now stick to Scar and follow him too by the virtue of being the same kind of hybrid. He doesn’t want anything to do with that. 

And of course, he’d never leave Grian.

Grian is his last connection to home. He loves him, even if it never feels like it’s enough.

Excruciatingly slowly, sun eventually peeks back out. But even then, it takes Grian a very long time to untangle himself from these dazed, nonsensical instincts. It’s such a heavy, sticky veil and he’s left disoriented and confused for the longest time. Through his exhaustion, he feels weak and dizzy and out of it.

Scar is also exhausted, but they’re nowhere near safe yet. Still pressed against the rocks. Every nerve ending is flared up, Scar’s senses alert to the point of flinching at the subtlest sound, hypervigilant. But as Grian slumps and quiets down, Scar’s firm grip on him follows. 

Slowly, so slowly, Scar’s hold on Grian becomes comforting instead of restricting and terrifying.

He can tell that it left bruises.

Scar hates everything about it, but— They’re alive.

The sun is back, Grian is quiet, and they’re alive.

But they still need to find safety. And Grian’s so frazzled, still processing what even happened. The blurred memories of chirps and howls and screams swirl through his mind. He feels lightheaded, and like his skull is stuffed full, unable to think clearly. He doesn’t quite understand any of it, and his body feels locked in place. 

Grian wants to stay sitting here until everything starts making sense, but they don’t have that kind of time. They can’t stay. They need to move. They need to properly hide. 

Scar feels awful, but he needs to push through. He needs to force Grian to move.

The snow is splattered with blood. The forest is dead silent, scattered bodies left behind all across it. The area is riddled with traps, some activated and others still hidden, waiting to be triggered. 

The sun is shining.

The silence is eerie.

The scent of blood is thick and fresh and nothing feels safe.

--

Later, when Grian’s more coherent, he says, “They were right.” In an incredibly quiet, fragile, unsteady voice—but laced with determination—he tells Scar: “You should’ve taken their deal.”

Scar immediately tries to dismiss it. Preferably to not engage with this conversation at all. “Not interested.”

Grian registers the shut down of the discussion, but that doesn’t make it any less loud inside of his mind (and heart). He simply goes quiet and withdraws. Lips pursed, lightly frowning, staring somewhere away.

They don’t talk about it again.

Late at night, when Grian can’t sleep because he’s too high strung, he thinks of how it’d feel like, to be used by those vexes as a bait.

He dreams about it.

He dreams of faraway chirps and laughter and hounds finding him.

He has so many nightmares after this.

-------

BONUS screenshot for shits n giggles:

[paleio]

percico is the only tag i have blocked on tumblr. i don't even know why i hate it so much but it makes me physically ill to think about. someone please explain the appeal of this ship i do not understand at all

[kamaluhkhan]

LONG HOT SUMMER NIGHT

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader word count: 8.4k chapter summary: it's the summer solstice and olympus is throwing a party! thalia notices the tension between you and luke, poseidon gives you some relationship advice and you punch the god of desire in the face. warnings: angst! jealous reader. lots of drinking. complicated relationships. reader dealing with ptsd + survivor's guilt (post-titan war). mention of injuries + blood. creepy guy pushing reader to hook up. ending is a bit steamy but no actual smut. spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 also reader is in a band called the midnight sirens and is born on the summer solstice! author's note: thank you so much for all the love for part 1!! summer is almost over and this is very much a summer series BUT summer's not over yet !!! hope y'all enjoy this one too and thanks 4 reading 💙

part 1 | series masterlist

♪: long hot summer night by jimi hendrix

mail to: 

Luke Castellan Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill 3.141 Farm Road Long Island, New York 11954

LUKE! 

I’m sitting in my kitchen right now, watching Percy make us blue blueberry pancakes and hoping he doesn’t burn down my kitchen while doing so. I caved and agreed to take him to Disneyland while he’s here and breakfast was part of the deal, but I think I might regret it later. 

We went surfing yesterday. It was Percy’s first time, but he was (unsurprisingly) amazing at it. I still can’t get over how beautiful the beaches are and the waves — gods, the waves are unreal. You’d seriously love it here. It’s like every day is summer. You have to come visit. PLEASE come visit!!!!

- [your initial]

P.S. The band and I are working on some new music, which means I won’t make it to camp again this summer. I’m sorry ;( Fingers crossed I’ll make it next year. 

P.P.S. hi luke! happy to report that i did not burn down my sister’s kitchen. anyways, can’t wait to kick your ass in sword-fighting this summer. xoxo, percy

THREE YEARS LATER 

the first time you visited olympus, you had been sent on a quest to retrieve zeus’ stolen lightning bolt, bringing luke and charles beckendorf along with you. you had missed the summer solstice deadline, but still tried to reason with the king of the gods when presenting the symbol of power, maybe calling him out once or twice along the way. before zeus could strike you down for your boldness, poseidon stepped in. the war between them was averted in fear of a much larger, looming threat; an ominous introduction for what was to come in the next chapter of your life.

another time, the gods debated whether or not they should kill you, some seeing you as a threat to their future. that was the day you accepted your destiny, not wanting your brother percy or your cousin nico to deal with the weight of the great prophecy. 

your last visit to olympus was on your 18th birthday, after helping to defeat kronos and his army. you made the gods swear to stop neglecting their kids and to allow all demigods, regardless of whether their parent was an olympian or not, to have a home at camp half-blood; to treat their children as children rather than heroes as pawns in their twisted games.

needless to say, it’s quite strange, being back here under very, very different circumstances, where the gods invited camp half-blood’s senior counsellors and staff to join in their summer solstice festivities.

it’s not every day you’ll be invited to a party on olympus; you’re determined to have a good time, to have fun. there’s already an abundance of music, dancing, food, or alcohol, and the night is just getting started.

you’re happy to be there with new and old friends, but you’re ecstatic when you see that thalia grace is there, too. 

“immortality looks good on you, t!” you compliment, raising your voice slightly over the music.

thalia preens, and you bask in her silver glow. 

“bet you wish you took the gods up on their offer, huh,” she teases. then, her eyes widen. “oh - shit! it’s your birthday! happy birthday!” 

thalia tackles you with another hug; even after all these years, she still smells like pine trees. she grabs two goblets of honeyed wine and hands one to you as you catch up. you eagerly gulp the sweet drink, until you’re reaching for another while listening to her stories about adventures she’d been on with the hunters of artemis. 

about halfway through her story about fighting off a manticore during a snow storm, a nymph appears with a platter of the ripest of fruit – sweet plums and fresh figs, tantalising pomegranates, succulent grapes and crisp apples. 

“oh my gods, this is the best apple i’ve had in my entire life!” thalia exclaims after indulging in a taste, herself giddy from a few goblets of wine. “where’s luke? he’s gotta try this — he’s always reminding us to eat more fruit. luke!” 

you hadn’t kept track of luke, at least not on purpose. you assumed he’d been off partying with van or his siblings, and, probably, avoiding you. wherever he was, thalia calls his name twice more and, like a ghost, luke appears. 

“i’m here, t.” luke’s voice is a deep, steady rumble floating above the music. his cheeks are slightly flushed, either from the heat or the drinks. likely both. “what’s up?”

“you need to try this.” thalia shoves the apple in his mouth before luke can respond. 

luke takes a bite, and some juice drips down his chin. you, in a honey-soaked haze, think about running your tongue over to catch it, but he beats you to it, wiping it away with the back of his hand. 

probably for the best.

“holy shit. yeah, it’s good.”

thalia, a sparkle in her eyes, urges you to try it as well. from across the makeshift triangle the three of you had formed, luke tosses the apple your way. you catch it effortlessly, and sink your teeth into it. 

you’ve almost overwhelmed by the burst of flavor. the fruit is just the right amount of tart to balance out the sweetness, and it’s damn near the best crunch you’ve ever experienced.

“good is an understatement,” you say after another bite. a distant memory crosses your mind. “i wonder if these are the same ones we almost got killed by a hellhound for.” 

thalia shakes her head, laughing in disbelief. “all because luke said we needed more vitamin c.”

“i was just looking out for us!” luke guffaws. “how was i supposed to know that persephone owned an apple orchard in connecticut?”

you pat his shoulder, the three of you smiling at the memory. “let’s call it an honest mistake.”

“well if annabeth had been with us by then, i’m sure that she wouldn’t have made that same honest mistake.” 

“okay, but she’s the daughter of athena —”

you let luke and thalia slip back into their playful bickering as if no time has passed. you listen and continue eating that glorious apple, enjoying how the golden glow of your shared past fills whatever distance might have grown between the three of you. 

somewhere down memory lane, luke’s amber eyes flick towards you.

“hey, you’ve got some….” without another word, luke suddenly reaches over to brush away a trail of juice with his thumb before sticking the finger in his mouth to savour the taste. he holds your gaze as he does so, and you feel a familiar kind of heat rush through your body — not from alcohol or summer sun, but from luke. 

it’s such an intimate gesture that you almost forget that you’re at some extravagant party on mount olympus, where gods and half-bloods and a whole bunch of other mythological creatures are celebrating the start of summer by essentially getting drunk together, until thalia clears her throat. 

“okay, well, seems like the two of you might want some alone time.”

luke’s cheeks grow more flushed than before, and his eyes widen as if realizing what he’d done.

“oh, we don’t need —”

“we’re not —”

you and luke both stumble over your words; thalia just smiles knowingly. 

“i’m gonna go flirt with that nymph,” she announces, pointing across the grand marble pavilion.

“i thought — doesn’t artemis sort of frown upon that sort of thing?” you ask.

“she makes exceptions on holidays. besides, i’m her favourite. you guys have fun.” thalia winks at you and walks away.

you glance at luke and, gods, there’s so much history between you. 

the time you jumped into an ocean full of sirens to save luke from drowning? you have a scar running down your forearm where one of them scratched you as you struggled to get luke towards the surface. 

or when you took turns holding up the sky while on a quest to save lady artemis and defeat the titan atlas? it’s evident in the matching streaks of grey that you each have running through your hair. whenever you see your reflection in the mirror, you remember how you couldn’t save your cousin bianca di angelo earlier that day, and how nico has had to grow up without a sister because of a promise you broke.

how about when you, luke, and one of your best friends were sent on a mission to destroy the princess andromeda, the headquarters of kronos’ army? only the two of you survived, and sometimes you can still feel luke squeezing your hand pike he did during charles beckendorf’s burial shroud ceremony while you both cried.

or when luke took a sword between the ribs for you because he, somehow, knew the one spot the curse of achilles left you vulnerable? he can only slouch for so long before the bones there start to ache.

so, yeah. there’s way too much history, and so many tangled threads, and now really isn’t an ideal time to unravel it all. 

“i’m gonna go find my dad,” you blurt out and disappear into the crowd with no real intention of finding your father. 

the once sweet apple now tastes rotten on your tongue; you rid yourself of it in exchange for some more wine. you’re determined to have fun — no pain or heartache or grief. 

you’ve all had enough of that for three lifetimes. 

summer — age 14

“sorry your birthday was ruined.” 

luke exhaled sharply when you pressed a disinfectant-soaked cloth to the wound on his leg.

“hold still,” was all you mumbled in response, brows knitted together as you wrapped the cut in gauze. 

once you were done with his leg, you moved on to luke’s hands, burned by poisonous acid. the four of you had run into a hydra earlier that night. you managed to wound it enough so you could all get away, but not before a few injuries were sustained. 

you were uncharacteristically quiet as you worked. you only met luke’s gaze to warn him before pouring some nectar on his wounds. you let luke hold your hand, tightly, as the liquid dripped through his fingers and down to yours, first right, then left. the pain was instant, seering almost as much as the hydra acid, but it was over quickly. the last thing you did was bandage each hand before getting up. 

“i’m…i’m gonna check on thalia and annabeth. i’ll take first watch.”

luke caught your hand before you got away.

“wait. you’re bleeding.” he pointed to the cut on your brow. you had been so preoccupied in making sure everyone else was safe that you let crimson liquid drip down your face. it probably stung, too, based on your grimace.

luke wiped away the blood with his sleeve, used nectar to disinfect the wound, and dressed it with a fresh bandage, working silently as you did.

“it’s still your birthday,” luke finally said once he was done. “you get some rest; i’ll take first watch.”

you gave him a small, strained smile before checking on the others. 

later that night, you stayed up with luke anyways. 

seemingly out of nowhere, you handed him your portable cassette player. luke stared at it for a moment, unwilling to comprehend just what you were offering and, more importantly, why. 

you and luke had grown accustomed to sharing things: flannels, socks, makeshift beds and scavenged food. but this —

it was your aunt’s. 

you never met your mother, who’d left you as a baby, and of course, poseidon was too busy tending to his underwater kingdom to step in as a parent. your aunt raised you as her own. and then you lost her, too. 

you kept her cassette player buried deep in your bag with some mixtapes she had made and ones you’d stolen throughout the years. when it wasn’t your turn to keep watch, luke would sometimes catch you with headphones on, looking up at the stars. 

luke liked to think he knew you well; all those subtle elements that made you — the crack of your knuckles, the cadence of your voice, the slope of your nose, the dreams of your childhood. engraved in his own personhood. bones and all. 

and, still: he didn’t know you, not entirely. 

you’d only allowed luke to listen with you once, maybe twice. he’d never forget what it was like: knees pressed together and heads just as close to keep the wires from stretching too far; you gushing about the magic of jimi hendrix, recounting memories that echoed through gentle guitar riffs; luke yearning for one more song to play, for another a wistful smile of yours to appear. luke, wishing to linger in your private oasis a beat longer before you pushed him out again and closed the door behind him. 

the one lock luke couldn’t crack: your grief, and how you carried on so buoyantly despite its weight.

well, there you were, presenting the key to luke as an offering. a sacrifice for something luke would never ask of you. 

“this….” luke swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to look at you. he turned the device over in his bandaged hands, the metal smooth, though well-worn. “you can’t just —”

leave. you can’t just leave. you can’t just —

“hey.” 

your hand over his, forcing him to stop spiralling and look at you. 

right away, luke regretted it. a small sliver of him, however delusional, had hoped that you were joking. 

you weren’t. behind you, there was an empty space where you had previously wedged your sleeping bag. your backpack was already strapped around your shoulders, fully packed. 

“i need to leave, luke. we can’t stay together. it’s too dangerous.”

“you don’t need to —”

“there’s more of us, now,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away to rest on your thigh. “four demigods together isn’t ideal. we’ve been attracting more monsters. more deadly monsters.”

“that would happen, anyways. it always has whether it’s the four of us, the two of us, or….” 

luke stopped his sentence short, not even wanting to give you the idea to go out on your own, even though you’d probably been thinking about leaving for some time. 

you made reckless decisions sometimes, but this didn’t seem to be one of them.

“well, it’s happening more.” your voice was steady, too steady. luke imagined you rehearsing just what to say to counter the inevitable backlash. 

luke shook his head. “i’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“you almost died because of me,” you clipped. you lifted a hand to touch the bruise on luke’s jaw, but let it drop just as quickly. “you know that children of the big three cause more trouble. maybe we managed it when it was the two of us, but now, there’s more to consider. a child of poseidon and a child of zeus, travelling together. it’s like we’re asking to be killed. it’s too dangerous.”

“that’s our life,” luke snapped. “you can’t just run from it.” from us.

you faltered, looking back to where annabeth and thalia were sleeping peacefully. 

oh. he must have said that last part out loud, too. 

“you know i’m right,” is all you said.

luke could only shake his head again. because, fine, you weren’t entirely wrong. it was more dangerous — but it was danger luke hoped you’d all face, together. 

“i’ve made up my mind,” you added, an anchor in the sand.

“don’t leave.” luke’s words came out as a prayer. if he offered something, maybe you’d stay.

you paused to take a shaky breath. “this isn’t goodbye, luke. i swear to poseidon…fuck, i swear to all the gods that this isn’t goodbye.”

luke couldn’t speak. there were tears bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill. 

“so, keep this for me,” you whispered, once again placing your hand on top of luke’s. his fingers gripped your cassette player tightly, like it was the only piece of driftwood leftover from a shipwreck, keeping him from sinking into the cold, dark nothing. “you’ll give it back when we see each other again.”

a promise. 

“fine,” luke conceded, though he wanted to scream at you. he wanted to argue like little kids — petty, loud, meaningless, back and forth until tears streamed down cheeks and throats were raw. 

but, you were leaving, one way or another. luke didn’t want this shared memory to be tainted if it might be your last.

“you have to take this, then. give it back when we see each other again.”

luke removed the chain from around his neck, the one that held the key to his childhood home. he placed it around yours, instead.

he didn’t need the key now, but his mother had given it to him when he was six. before he knew what it meant to be the son of hermes, god of thieves. 

call him sentimental, but luke had kept it. just in case he ever got lost. 

“if you’re ever back in connecticut, you have a home.”

“yeah, okay.” you smiled softly. 

it fell just as quickly. 

“take care of them,” you told him. “of yourself, too. i’ll see you again when it’s safe.”

luke didn’t ask when it would be safe, because the truth is that it might never be.

“because you want your cassette player back?” luke joked, instead trying to lighten the mood, to capture one last moment of brightness.

you laughed softly to not wake the others. 

“yeah. that too.”

you pressed your forehead to his, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. 

“i’ll see you again,” you repeated.

without another word, you got up and jogged away. luke shut his eyes, refusing to see you become nothing but a shadow. 

(you looked back several times, but he couldn’t see through the darkness.)

now

call the gods out on their bullshit (you encourage it), but if they have one thing going for them, it’s that the olympians know how to throw a party. 

the night grows darker, yet somehow becomes more lively. demeter and persephone had supplied a generous amount of fresh, decadent fruit, and dionysus an even more generous amount of wine. apollo starts a karaoke corner and you’re just tipsy enough to agree to sing a duet with him in order to break the ice. apparently, he’s a big midnight sirens fan and had seen your band when you headlined at glastonbury festival. you smile to yourself, imagining your bandmates’ faces if you told them that the god of music had watched you perform.

as you hand the microphone to a giggling dryad, the sound of your name washes over like gentle waves on a shore.

“if it isn’t my sweet, summer child!” your father brings you in for a hug and an ocean breeze engulfs you — salt and sand and sun. 

“hi dad,” you exhale as you pull away. 

you hadn’t seen each other in a while, but poseidon looks the same. he’s dressed in a turquoise hawaiian shirt and birkenstocks with a crown of seashells on his head. there’s a cocktail umbrella in his glass, a slice of pineapple wedged onto the rim. you’re about to ask him how he managed to secure a pina colada and where you might find one, too.

“that was quite the performance!” poseidon takes an eager sip of his drink, green eyes sparkling like sea glass in the sun. “i must tell you: your newest album is all the rage in atlantis. the nereids and merpeople can’t seem to get enough of it and, truthfully, i find myself playing it on repeat as well. you’re quite talented.” 

you try not to let your shock slip through, instead smiling and asking how things are in his underwater kingdom, but you’re….touched at your father’s unexpected praise.

the gods aren’t perfect, and your father is no exception. they’re divine beings who have time to conceive children, but not to raise them. there’s a long history of them abandoning, mistreating, and manipulating their own offspring. of course, being the prophecy child, it became practically impossible for your father to ignore you; you’re sure that being dubbed the saviour of olympus gives him bragging rights with his immortal family. even with their sworn promise to change, it’s impossible not to resent the gods in some ways. 

still, you feel comforted by your father's presence at times — when you catch the perfect wave on your surfboard, for example, or when you sit on your fire escape during a storm after a bad day. it’s been like that pretty much all your life: poseidon there in spirit, not in practice. despite everything, he’s watched over you, and percy, throughout the years.

and here poseidon is now, grinning at you like you’re his pride and joy. 

“enough about aquatic politics.” he pats your shoulder enthusiastically after telling you about the struggles of keeping humans from overfishing. “i came over to wish you a happy birthday. and to give you this.” 

poseidon reaches into the pocket of his shirt and hands you something you’d long thought gone: a leather cord with several clay beads and a silver key.

“i found it off the california coast,” he explains. “i kept meaning to get it to you, but i suppose time has a way of getting away from us, immortal or not.”

a warmth grows in your chest as you run your thumb over your old camp necklace, bright and full. it had fallen off one day when you’d gone surfing, and you assumed it was lost to the ocean. you'd been given a fresh leather cord when you arrived at camp earlier this summer, but it felt empty. hollow.

“thanks, dad.” 

you smile at him as you put on the necklace; it feels like coming home. your father then asks you about your summer so far.

you tell him all about your life as of late, until you catch a glimpse of luke with van on a marble bench at the other end of the pavilion. van is sitting in luke’s lap, and they lean over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. 

you freeze mid-way through your sentence.

sensing the shift in mood, poseidon frowns. he turns his head to follow your gaze.

“ah.” poseidon turns back to you and clears his throat. “now, i don’t mean to pry, but i saw you earlier with the castellan boy.”

you flush at the fact that your moment with luke was witnessed by your own father. “dad —”

“did you know in ancient greece, throwing someone an apple and having them catch it is considered a marriage proposal?”

“i’m pretty sure that was disproven,” you scoff.

poseidon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “which one of us was actually there, hm?” and though you roll your eyes, you can’t argue with that. “i just wanted to know if there was a wedding happening in the near future.”

you almost choke on the last remnants of your wine. “dad.”

“i’m kidding. i’m kidding! mr. castellan seems otherwise occupied.” 

“yeah, it does seem that way,” you grumble.

poseidon puts a hand on your shoulder, firm but reassuring. “regardless: if you find someone who would go to tartarus and back with you, someone who would fight alongside you every step of the way, you hold on to them. there’s only so much time you mortals have on this earth.”

you sigh — easier said than done — but your father is trying, so you manage a nod.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

“now, i better go — ” poseidon looks over your shoulder, where the air behind you starts to feel staticky. “it seems a disagreement is brewing between zeus and hades. they always get into it whenever dionysus makes the wine a bit too strong. brother, put away the lightning bolt —” and he rushes away to prevent another divine conflict from arising.

left to your own devices, you venture over to the food table, finding an array of fresh and dried fruit, breads, cured meat, fresh oysters and, of course, more wine. you grab a goblet and a few dried figs.

“careful, i heard dionysus made the wine extra strong tonight,” someone warns, creeping up beside you. the voice is soft and alluring, and you feel something tug at your heart. 

you do a double take when you turn to them; the person is devilishly handsome, a golden aura paired with a golden smile. 

(you will soon find out that the god flirting with you is the son of ares and aphrodite, the latter of which takes the appearance of whoever the onlooker loves. as it turns out, her son appears in the same way. 

all this to say: it doesn’t mean anything that this god looks like luke castellan to you. 

it doesn’t mean anything at all.)

“i’m eros.”

“hey. i’m —”

“i know who you are, savior of olympus.” eros winks at you. “i just never realized you were so beautiful.”

your cheeks heat up as you take a sip of your drink.

oh, shit. 

okay. the literal god of desire and pleasure is flirting with you. 

you’re flattered, really, and maybe the wine has gotten to your head, but you’re not eager to turn him away.

“well, i’ve definitely heard about you, and the rumors do not do you justice,” you quip, painting on a flirtatious smile.

eros puffs out his chest, clearly pleased. 

over the next few minutes, you decide that eros can hold a decent conversation, asking you the classic first date questions about your likes and dislikes, and he’s cute enough that you wouldn’t mind things going further. 

(he might be a god, but he’s no luke. you push that thought away, and force yourself to flirt with helios. eros. right, eros.)

eros leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze drop every so often to the deep v-neck of your shirt.  

“no way! 13 going on 30 is a classic,” you argue. you nudge your shoulder into eros’s playfully, and let the contact between you linger. eros, the inspiration for cupid himself, has angel wings, and you feel them brush softly against your burning skin. 

“it’s totally overrated!” eros exclaims. “also, the childhood friends to lovers trope gives people false hope.”

“it’s not false hope. it’s about the buildup to their happily ever after,” you reason, swallowing some wine to dislodge the lump in your throat.

eros shakes his head. “trust me, baby, it’s all about the instant attraction. that’s where the excitement is.” 

he’s so close now, you can smell the sharp alcohol on his breath. not wine, but something stronger.

“oh? what do you mean by that?” you lean impossibly closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

eros smirks, placing a hand on your thigh. “want me to demonstrate?” 

not even a second after you whisper a yes, eros crashes his lips onto yours, and you will yourself to kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. 

you’re making out with the god of desire and passion, so, objectively, it’s a good first kiss: soft around the edges and firm where it needs to be.

sure — you feel nothing, no real spark, but it’s almost enough to fill the hole in your heart in the shape of a certain son of hermes. 

the son of hermes who has moved on and is in a loving relationship with a perfect emotionally available partner. 

so, it’s fine. 

this, this thing with eros, is fine. 

you’re fine.

eros pulls away first, but keeps a hand on your cheek.

“let's get out of here.” 

he grabs your wrist before you have a chance to answer. you stand up, let him weave you through the crowd towards the stairs of the pavilion. apparently, his room is just through the garden. 

as he tugs you along, he looks back at you, smiling. under the glow of the stars, eros looks just like luke, except it’s becoming harder to ignore that he isn’t luke and that makes you feel all sorts of nauseous. your camp necklace weighs on your chest and, in particular, the silver key that you’d kept for all those years burns through your skin. 

lightheaded, you pull away from eros’ grip just as you reach the top of the stairs and place a hand on the column next to you to steady yourself.

eros turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just…keep talking here.”

eros grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” his tone is ever-so-gentle, but there’s an edge behind his words. 

this time, your voice comes out more assertive. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“come on, baby, don’t you wanna experience what real passion is? this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that a million girls would kill for. you’d be an idiot to pass it up.” he brags, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose, god or not. 

“i don’t care,” you snap, struggling to break free from his grip. “and i’m not your baby.”

“okay, whatever,” eros rolls his eyes, but quickly plasters on an arrogant grin. “we’ll go somewhere private and i’ll call you whatever you want.”

he manages to drag you down two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage and use your strength to rip out of his grip, forcing eros to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he snaps, whipping his head around once more. 

he looks nothing like luke, now.

“just stop, eros.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little kid. so much for being the savior of olympus. “trust me, i know what people want, so you don’t have to be shy. i promise to be the best you’ve ever had —”

“eros, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s percy, giving eros one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. percy, your little brother who talks to lonely fish at the aquarium; who, if you cut open, would bleed blue m&m’s; who would never let anyone, god or otherwise, hurt someone he loves. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my sister.”

“mind your own business, kid,” eros hisses. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you down another step, but you stand your ground.

annabeth, no longer the scared little seven year old you, luke, and thalia found behind a dumpster, is also glaring at liam from the top of the stairs. one of her hands rests firmly on her belt, where she keeps her dagger. 

“i’d back off, if i were you,” she warns. “wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“just mind your own business,” eros snarls.

“they said leave her alone,” thalia asserts, walking over once she sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” she clenches her hand into a fist.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” percy orders. “my sister can do a lot better than a minor god with a major god complex.” 

eros growls, baring his teeth at percy. “you impertinent little shit.”

as soon as eros lunges for your brother, you tug one of his wings towards you, hard. he whips around and you take the opportunity to punch him in the face. he doubles over, golden ichor gushing from his nose.

“i’d be careful if i were you, baby,” you seethe. “you wouldn’t want to go up against the demigods who led an army against kronos and won. unless, of course, humiliation is a kink of yours.” you laugh humorlessly at the way eros scowls at your words. “to each their own,” you continue. “but i’m not in the mood to fuck an entitled creep with angel wings to compensate for his tiny dick. you better fucking respect that, and leave us alone while you’re at it.”

eros’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only entitled, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a few blows to their ego. 

call it stupidity or arrogance, but his only response is a punch delivered right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but percy manages to reach out and catch you before you fall down the stairs. he holds you as thalia and annabeth create a barrier between you and eros. you hear them shouting at eros over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is suddenly all fuzzy. percy tries his best, but you slump your body weight into his and he almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” luke’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. “from what i remember, you were too much of a coward to even step foot on the battlefield, so i’d listen to her if you know what’s good for you.” in a haze, you guess that luke is directing his sharp words towards eros, before turning to the others and instructing: “you guys take care of this — find clarisse if you need back up.”

somehow, you find yourself over in a small secluded temple, sitting on a window bench overlooking the clouds as luke sits next to you.

like most of olympus, the building is made of marble with gold accents; this one has roses engraved on the walls, and the space smells like flowery perfume. it’s much quieter than the pavilion, though you can hear laughter and music in the distance. it’s cooler, too, but not by much; even without all the body heat, you're left with sticky summer air, and luke’s breath on yours, sweet with wine and ripe fruit, as he carefully examines your injury.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him after all) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

“thought the curse of achilles would protect you from nosebleeds.”

“guess it doesn’t protect against —” what did percy call eros? “ — minor gods who have major god complexes,” you recite.

luke looks slightly amused. “that’s a shame,” he hums. “would have been nice to get one birthday without being injured.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the dull ache from your nose.

“you remembered.”

“of course i remember,” luke almost scoffs like the mere suggestion of forgetting what day you were born is an insult to his very character. he meets your gaze, and you could melt when he offers you that lopsided smile of his, painfully familiar. “happy birthday, aquagirl,” and it’s the softest he’s spoken to you in a while. just like old times.

he remembers. 

somewhere within him, luke holds on to fragments of you.

he wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of his silk white button-down now stained crimson. “how’s your hand?” he asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

“i guess all those years away didn’t change anything. still willing to put a god in their place, huh?”

all those years away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, and you’re worried that it might burst the comfortable bubble you and luke had drunkenly stumbled into. 

thankfully, luke continues:

“the kids really take after you.”

he says as a joke, mostly, but there’s a sincerity in those deep brown eyes of his, too. something you also hadn’t seen from him in a while. 

the kids, who you’d in some ways raised together when monsters were trying to kill you and the gods didn’t care enough to stop it. 

the family you and luke had built together despite being born into the world of greek tragedies. 

“as if annabeth wasn’t threatening to pull the dagger you gave her, skywalker,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “besides, they’re not kids anymore.”

“yeah.” he pauses. “neither are we.” 

luke’s fingers trace your camp necklace, brush against your collarbone. the breath hitches in your throat.

here you are again, at the edge of something real and very scary, and you fear luke is going to push the two of you over. 

but he doesn’t. instead, luke suggests, jokingly: “maybe we should start a fight club at camp.” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s hoping to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it. before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re practically ignoring each other.

where you’re fine, but really. 

you snort. “chiron and mr. d would love that.”

“like they’d ever find out!” luke explains. “you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

luke laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

and that’s the thing that really, truly gets you. 

try as you might to ignore it, some days it’s hard to forget the pain and heartache and grief. 

you still feel like your life is a battlefield; you still see the ghosts of everyone you couldn’t save even though people call you a savior; you still have those scars, inside and out, that seemed healed but ache every once and a while. 

but that isn’t all. 

sometimes it hurts more thinking back to the good times and knowing, deep down, you can never go back.

summer — age 13

“ugh — you think with all their power, the gods could help stop global warming,” you groaned, swatting away a mosquito that tried to land on you. “do you think they have air conditioning on olympus?”

“oh, for sure,” luke quipped. he gave you a lopsided smile, his curls sticking to his forehead, drenched in sweat. 

it was the summer solstice, the longest and the hottest day of the year so far. the two of you had found a perfectly good hideout, but luke insisted that this place would be worth the move. 

he’d been leading you down side streets for what felt like forever. the sun had already set, and you were very close to passing out from the heat, until luke finally stopped at a door behind an alley, with a sign reading CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. 

luke knelt down to do whatever son-of-hermes lock magic he had to do to get the door open. he flipped a switch, and you winced at the sudden overwhelming brightness. 

the destination was different than the hideouts you usually sprung for: those small, hole-in-the-wall type places. instead, this space was big and bright, filled with arcade games and fun posters and neon colours. the type of place a kid might have a party or where a group of normal teenagers might spend their friday night. 

“what…what is this?”

“you thought i forgot, didn’t you?” luke smirked at you. he sat down on the colourful carpet, taking out some snacks, a small plastic bag with coins, a wrapped box, and a plastic blue crown, and gestured for you to join.

you did, in fact, think that luke had forgotten your birthday. 

birthdays were bittersweet for children of gods, who were constantly reminded that any year could be their last, their youth cut short by monsters or prophecies or a fatal flaw. all the two of you usually did on either birthday was split any sweet treat you could get your hands on. 

it wasn’t a big deal, really, to skip that tradition of yours. there were much more urgent things to worry about, like finding food and water and shelter, and not being devoured by monsters. 

you did think it was strange that luke hadn’t so much as said happy birthday to you all day, but you knew that he loved you.

(like a friend loves a friend. nothing else, no matter how much your stomach fluttered at the thought of him.) 

“i wanted to surprise you,” luke explained once you claimed your spot next to him. he reached over to place the crown on your head. “i found this place a few days ago during a food run. it reminds me of where we had your —”

“eighth birthday party, yeah.” you smiled at the memory of running around and feeding quarters to every machine and trying every game, of your classmates singing happy birthday to you off-key before you all stuffed your faces with sickly sweet confetti cake. 

truthfully, you never thought about having another celebration like that again.

but, it was five years from that faded childhood memory, and luke was presenting you with something you didn’t even realize you had needed: the chance to be a kid again.

“so,” luke got up, a wide smile on his face. he held the plastic bag in one hand, extending the other to you. “which do you wanna play first?”

you started with space invaders, then moved on to dragon’s lair and pac-man. you took a break before street fighter ii so that luke could ceremoniously light a candle and present a cupcake that had been tossed around in his bag (but you were still very, very grateful for), along with fresh batteries for your portable cassette player. he had made you a mixtape too, though you couldn’t figure out how. 

your last stop was a photobooth. you vowed to keep those pictures — a collection of you and luke together, smiling bright and colourful, goofing off and laughing — for the rest of your life.

now

those moments from past summers are like popsicles melting in the sun: tangible for a limited time before leaving you with a sickly sweet mess of what once was. 

you think about what happened earlier, how percy, annabeth, and thalia stepped in to protect you, still the brave kids you had once known so well. how luke is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve silently agreed to give each other the cold shoulder. 

maybe luke is right. maybe all those years away didn’t change anything. 

except — once you leave this temple and the alcohol leaves your system, it won’t be the same. 

none of you are kids anymore, if you ever even were. 

“why’d you go for eros, anyway?” luke asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes his sleeve from your nose since the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. most gods are assholes. and you’re…” luke places a hand close to your leg, pinky finger brushing your thigh. “you.”

“i went for eros because….well, honestly, i don’t think i cared who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with luke is running out. 

luke’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s close enough that he’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on luke’s — messy and urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you move to straddle his waist. you taste wine on his tongue, and maybe a hint of sweet pears, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him. luke’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“luke,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

luke wipes away the blood with his thumb. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s an echo of footsteps on the marble floor. a flower nymph, there to leave an offering and let you know that, while aphrodite encourages acts of love, she prefers it doesn’t happen in her place of worship. 

you realize that aphrodite also might not look so fondly at you kissing someone else in her place of worship after publicly rebuking her own son.

luke untangles himself from you, and you know that he’s been jolted back to reality, too. 

and, just like that, another moment has melted away.

your father was right. time has a way of slipping away for us, immortal or not.

summer — age 18

“hey, you awake?”  

“yeah,” you replied softly. sleep hadn’t been easy, in the days and weeks and months leading up to that final battle with kronos and his army. 

and once it was all over? 

you rested your head on luke’s shoulder, sword discarded at your feet and armour half-removed, as argus, the hundred-eyed security guard of olympus, drove a school bus with a dozen or so demigods back to camp.

“why’d you turn down their offer?” luke whispered.

oh.

"why...why do you ask?"

"i don't know." luke paused. "just curious, i guess."

you closed your eyes and replayed that moment on olympus when you refused the gift of immortality. the look of shock written on the gods’ faces. and on luke’s.

“i don’t care about living forever,” you told him bluntly.

forever seemed too long, especially for someone who was prophesied to die at 18.

you tilted your head up to meet luke’s gaze, and his messy curls brushed against your forehead. evidence of the battle was clear on his face: caked-on dirt and blossoming bruises and dried blood. 

behind him, outside the bus window, the world was flying by. a child who had fallen off their bike being comforted by a friend. two people sharing an mp3 player and a pair of earbuds. an elderly couple walking their dog.

“you once told me that this was our life,” you continued, gesturing towards the weapons and battle-worn kids, some quiet, others crying, many injured. “what if it didn’t have to be?” 

luke furrowed his brow. “do you mean….are you talking about leaving?”

you shrugged. running from monsters for your entire childhood then being the child of the great prophecy was a lot.

a break might be nice.

there was so much about the world, the one you’d fought and bled to protect, that you wanted to experience. 

maybe something closer to a normal life.

“would you ever leave camp?” you wondered, not really answering luke's question. 

“no,” luke replied instantly. his fingers started fiddling with the beads on his necklace. “i can’t just walk away, not after everything.”

“yeah, i get that.” and you did; you really, truly, did. the guilt of wanting to leave camp curled in your stomach like a venomous snake. you took a shaky breath. “let’s talk about this later, yeah? i’m tired, and we have the rest of — ”

the rest of the summer slipped away in the blink of an eye. gone, before you even had a real chance to say goodbye.

you closed your eyes and held on to luke, as if gripping his arm would anchor you to something you weren't ready to let go of, but in some ways needed to move on from.

it was no use, though. 

by the end of august, you’d be gone too. 

now 

you learned early on that the curse of achilles doesn’t protect you from hangovers.

you wake up the morning after the celebration on olympus with a deep, throbbing pain lodged in your temple and an uncomfortable swirling in your gut. parties and late nights at bars are common on tour, which means migraines are, too, so you have a routine to make sure you’re not out of commission for too long.

except this time, the aspirin and blue gatorade and dry toast don’t work. the sting in your brain and uneasiness in your stomach doesn’t go away, even after a few days. you haven’t been able to sleep, either.

desperate for a cure, you consult lou ellen, head counsellor of the hecate cabin, who you’d unexpectedly grown close to in the past few weeks. she mixes something for you, while asking if there’s something that’s been weighing on you.

you couldn't keep it in anymore; you tell her about the summer solstice and luke.  

later, with nothing but your thoughts and percy’s snoring occupying your time post-curfew, you grab your phone and flip it open, deciding to finally reach out to luke, when you get a text from him.

luke is already on the beach when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you sit next to him on the sand, but not too close. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell anyone that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, word travels fast around camp, and i don’t want van finding out. it’s not like it meant anything.”

the throbbing in your brain becomes a sharper sting, the uneasiness in your stomach a tidal wave of nausea.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to luke’s stoic demeanor.

luke shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with eros happened…we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing?” the word tastes bitter in your mouth.

luke turns away before he answers. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he sighs. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. whatever you came here for, it's not here for you. there's nothing to go back to. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, luke.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay luke’s words as you crawl into bed, holding back tears so as to not disturb percy. finally, you swallow a generous amount of whatever concoction lou ellen had brewed up for you.

drifting off into your own sleep, you decide that you don’t love luke anymore. not as a friend, not as a.....

nope. 

according to luke, there's not even anything to go back to.

nothing.

nothing.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

ring camera chronicles - Nico Hischier

Word Count - 1700

Requested - Yes

Author's Note - Even if someone requests it I think this will be my last ring camera type fic. I am someone who hates reusing ideas for different players, and it was really hard to come up with 7 original ideas for Nico. But anyway enjoy and thank you for reading.

Warnings - none

Summary - Seven times that Nico's and your ring camera caught cute 'mundane' moments between you both.

Masterlist

Being Nico’s girlfriend naturally meant that you sort of organized lunches with the other wags and tried to keep up to date with them. At first you hated it because you weren’t an influencer, you had a normal job and being a planner wasn’t part of the job. But after a while you did become close friends with a few of the girls including Jack’s girlfriend. Who was now sitting across from you as she updated all of you on her latest mess with having a ring camera. All about how she didn’t want Jack to catch her having all these packages so you went to sneak them in, and got Nico and Luke to help her. Only to find out in the moment that she actually used Jack’s card and he really didn’t seem to care. The entire table was crying in laughter, especially when you mentioned that Nico was still a little salty about it 2 weeks later. Luke’s girlfriend went on to say how much she loves having her ring and how it catches so many cute mundane moments that people tend to forget about, plus it was fun to mess with her boyfriend. Deciding in that moment that you also wanted a ring doorbell to be able to mess with Nico, all you had to do was convince Nico. 

Once you got home you shyly mentioned to Nico, “ hey Neeks I was thinking why don’t we get a ring camera?” He doesn’t even look up from playing with your puppy and says “okay.” 

“Wait really?” The shock is clear in your voice. 

Still playing tug-a-war with the rope toy and currently losing, he answers “ yeah if you want plus it makes sense I mean I have one at home for our other flat it makes sense to have one for here. Especially since we are out of the country for 3 months a year.” 

“Wait, there is a camera for your place in Swittsland?” Generally shocked that you somehow didn’t know this information. 

“Yes. Did you think I didn’t have cameras if I only lived there 3 months a year? Anyway I’ll order some tomorrow.” As he gets up, and kisses you on the head before he goes to the bedroom to get ready for the gym, leaving a hyper puppy who wants to play and a shocked girlfriend behind. 

1.) One last thing

It’s something neither you nor Nico even realized that you did. But when it came to those roadies that he would leave the apartment for, rather than you drive him to the airport. Somehow whether it was 5 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon, you always would run out the apartment and almost tackle him for one last hug before he would leave. Snuggling your head into his chest. He would snuggle into the crown of your neck and you would whisper something about having safe travels and good luck. It didn’t matter if the roadie was for a weekend or two weeks you always ran out of the apartment calling after Nico saying “one last thing” before you tackled him for your hug. Once you got a ring camera you noticed and you asked your videographer friend to edit all the clips together so you and Nico could keep it and watch it back.

2.) I”ll always got you

“Baby, are you sure you wanna wear those shoes?” Nico asks as you both get ready to leave to meet the rest of the team and their significant others done the street at the local bar. 

“Yeah, why aren’t they cute?” as you check your outfit one last time doing a twirl in the mirror that’s in your little makeshift foyer of your apartment. 

“I’m not saying your new shoes aren’t cute, they just aren’t broken in and I don’t want your feet to hurt later.” He admits coming and wrapping his arms around you. 

“But their sneakers.” you whine. 

“Yes sneakers meant for fashion” he argues. 

“Says the man who wears Jordans when he goes hiking.” To which he gives you a knowing look and you don’t want to get into the fact he’s “built differently as a European.” Even if it’s 100 percent true because that evaluation ain’t meant for the weak even in the cities. 

“I’ll be fine.” you whisper as you both exit the apartment. He jokingly looks at the ring camera and says “you got that right she will be fine.” 

Now a few hours later, the ring camera picks up you guys coming home and you were in fact being carried by Nico at this point. A very sweaty and out of breath Nico. In your tipsy state all you could do is laugh as you attempted to unlock the door, at Nico literally hands on knees trying to catch his breath. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a professional athletic Neeks.” 

“Professional athlete does not mean I should carry a very tipsy girl who wouldn’t stop shifting her weight almost a whole kilometer home and not be out of breath.” he counters and all you can do is chuckle finally getting the door unlocked. Nico looks directly at the camera and says “I just wanna state for the people, that she was in fact NOT FINE with those shoes.” 

“Neeks what people only we have access to the footage.” you giggle.

He rolls his eyes and although you’re not sure what he said you know he cursed at you in Swiss German under his breath as you both stumbled into your apartment.

3.) Baby it’s here!

Nico came up from the mailroom with a giant package in his hands. He's so excited he rings the doorbell even though he knows your at work because the care package finally arrived. 

“BABY IT’S HERE!” not caring how loud he sounded to his neighbors. “Ooo I am so excited I know she set some of my favorite Swiss chocolate and other candy too.” Nico had the biggest smile on his face, you swear when you watched it back on your break he looked more excited then a toddler waking up on Christmas morning to see what Santa left him. 

Deciding to text him to tell him not to eat too much before dinner even though you know there is really no point because, when it came to candy from home and Nico he will always eat as much as his sister is willing to send in one sitting

4.) Are you alright?

Nico gets a notification while he is away on a roadie for “movement in front of camera.” Since he was already dressed and ready for practice he decided to check the notification. He noticed it was you coming home at an earlier time than normal and you didn’t look good. Immediately he’s Facetiming you in the locker room, making sure you have everything you need and even doing a Doordash CVS order to your apartment with a bunch of different flavors of gatorade and Mucinex. Nico has his full pout because he is very worried about his girlfriend who is getting sick and the fact that he is 2000 miles away. 

5.) You didn’t see that

 After being exhausted after a long day of work and running a bunch of errands. The last thing you wanted to do was make multiple trips down the elevator to the parking garage to get all the groceries, your work bag, your lunch box and purse. Of course as soon as you pass the mailroom you see that you received a few Amazon packages. Again deciding one trip was better than multiple you somehow balance the boxes and make your way to the elevator. But of course as soon as you get to the front door as you're trying to reach for your keys to unlock the door everything tumbles. Without even thinking you deadpan to the camera   “ you didn’t see that.” But then you wince because of course you hear Nico’s loud laugh through the ring microphone. Of course in that exact moment he decided to check to make sure you got home okay since he knows you have anxiety driving at night when the roads are icy. 

6.) Shhhh will you some people are sleeping!

After coming home around 2 AM due to a delayed plane because of bad weather he finally comes home from his weekend roadie. Of course the ring camera starts to record as soon as it detects motion, recording how slow Nico is being trying to sneak into the apartment. But of course he somehow forgot about your 10 month Bernese Mountain puppy who starts barking at the top of his lungs. Running to attack Nico because he was so happy that “dad was home.” Of course the camera caught everything including Nico cursing in German for his failed attempts. But then he’s picking up your very big puppy trying to get him to quiet down because “hey don’t you know its 2 AM, your mama trying to sleep bubs.” . The next morning when you see a new notification on your phone from ring and you see Nico trying his hardest to be quiet you can’t help but chuckle and your chest swell a little at how sweet Nico was trying to be and how adorable he always is with your guys puppy. 

7.) Give me my puppy update

Everyday when he’s away on a roadie he demands to see an update on how much your little 20 lb Bernese Mountain puppy has grown on his way back in from his morning walk. He loves it when he’s actually able to catch the update in real time and talking through the camera catching how confused and excited the little puppy is because he hears dad’s voice but doesn’t see him. After a while attempting to pick up the very big puppy becomes such a struggle. It becomes Nico’s favorite part of his day watching you try to pick up the little rascal because he really only likes it when Nico picks him up. He loves hearing you complain to the dog that you are picking him up to show him to Nico. But every single time all the puppy does is schrick in refusal and you huff finally giving up. After 3 days in a row when your dog was around 10 months of that same pattern you told Nico that he’s going to have to settle on videos because fighting this dog to participate everyday in your daily vlogs was taking longer than it actually was to stand in front of the doorbell.

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Grill the Kid

Synopsis: Y/n is the favorite for Grill the Grid. A few of the 2023 episodes are a reminder why.

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 Grid

A/N: a couple things; team doesn’t really matter here, I’m just using the drivers shown in the videos. i’m also using a challenge from previous years to make it more interesting

Grill the Grid Episode 1: Driver Heights

You walk in to see a tall easel. “Oh, what’s this for?” You ask Rosanna, the host of the games.

“We’ve got a heigh chart and magnets with all the driver’s names on them. And you’ve got to place them in height order in two minutes”

You nod. “I can do that”

“You ready? 3, 2, 1, go”

“Okay, how am I gonna do this?” You say, asking no one in specific.

“Let’s just do this in order I see them- actually, wait” You search for two names specifically, then slap one at the very top, the other at the bottom.

“We’re gonna put Yuki right below my name, he’s not as tall as me, but he’s close”

“Then...um...who’s the next tallest? Estie or Alex?” You look to Rosanna as if she can tell you.

“We’ll do Estie, Alex, then, Stroll, I guess? Lance is pretty tall, he can go right there” You flip through the magnets in your hands, eyebrows furrowed.

“Should we do shortest to tallest then? That might be easier”

“Lando is, of course, a midget and belongs all the way down there” You crouch, placing your friend’s name at the bottom with a grin.

“Who else is short? Fernando and Checo, they’re pretty short. I think Fernando is shorter than Checo, though”

“Umm, Lewis isn’t that tall, oh! Neither is Valtteri, sorry Valtteri. KMag, he’s also not super tall”

“I think from then on, everyone else is kinda similar in height- actually no, Pierre thinks that he’s tall, he’s not”

“Max- is Max tall? He might be, he’s just not tall in my mind. We’ll put him in the middle. Charles, we’ll put him right next to Max” A cheeky smile suddenly comes on to your face.

“Zhou is kinda tall, maybe, but we’ll put him below Charles and Max”

“Oscar? See, again he’s not tall in my mind, but he might actually be tall, so I don’t know. I’ll put him above Zhou but below Charles and Max, that might work”

“Carlos, uh, he can be tall, we’ll put him above right below Charles and Max”

“Oh, Hulk! He’s tall, Nico’s tall, we’ll put him below Alex and in front of Lance”

“Last person is Logan, he’s tall, I think, not that tall though, maybe below Lance” You place the last name on the chart.

“Okay, I’m done, I did great, but you can tell me what you think is wrong, anyways” you say jokingly, smiling at Rosanna.

“So, Y/n, I’m sorry to tell you but you are not the tallest on the grid” Rosanna says in front of you, fake sympathy on her face.

“What do you mean? Of course I am, I tower above everyone, clearly” You gesture to yourself.

“Okay then, well, Yuki is not the second tallest” The woman says as you shake your head.

“Rosie, I don’t know what you see, but Yuki is almost as tall as me” You look up to see her sighing.

“Are you really not going to change it?”

“There’s nothing to change” You smile, shrugging. “Alright then. Esteban is the-“ She pauses, then plays along with your game. “The third tallest” You smile successfully.

“Then in your books, I guess, Alex is the fourth tallest, and George- what did George do to you that made you put him on the bottom?”

“He’s George, that’s enough sometimes” You see Rosanna face palm, then ask again, “You’re not going to change his?”

“Nope” You shake your head. “Okay- moving on, you got Nico and Lance right. Max is actually taller than Logan, then goes Charles- are you not going to change them either?” She exclaims, exhasperated already.

“No” you say simply. She sighs. “So Charles, you got Oscar and Carlos wrong, Oscar is taller than Carlos”

“Really? He’s taller than Carlos? Okay, I’ll move them”

“Pierre goes right below Carlos, then Kevin-” You cut her off. “Actually? Wow, I was wrong”

“Yes, somehow” Rosanna rolls her eyes playfully.“Then comes Zhou, he’s shorter than KMag, then Lewis, he’s taller than Sergio. Checo is taller than Valtteri, then Fernando, and then Lando”

She finishes, refraining from voicing her opinion about yours and Yuki’s heights. “So I got them all right!” You exclaim, grinning. “Sure Y/n, you got them all right”

Grill the Grid Episode 2: Geography

“Alright, here we go” You walk into the studio, greeting Rosanna and everyone else behind the cameras as you go. “What’re we doing today?” You ask, standing on the mark on the floor.

Rosanna smirks, and you know this isn’t going to go well. “Geography”

Your face falls.

“In fifteen seconds”

Your jaw drops.

“Oh my god, I hate this game”

She hands you the clipboard. “You ready?”

“No” You deadpan.

“Okay, 3, 2, 1, go” She ignores you and starts the timer.

And then you’re dotting the paper frantically, your eyes trying to keep up with your hands. “Ten seconds”

“Shut up” you say dryly, but you’re grinning.

“Where’s Monaco?” You mutter.

“Five seconds”

“No”

“Time’s up” she tells you, the alarm going off in front of you.

“Wait” Your eyes quickly scanning the paper. “Okay, I’m done” You look up.

“The timer’s been off for like, ten seconds” Rosanna laughs.

“Oh well”

“Okay, Y/n, show me what you’ve done” You grin, turning the clipboard around to reveal a messily dotted paper.

“Oh my”

“Good, right?”

“It’s certainly something”

“Yeah, something amazing”

“Sure, Y/n. Tell me what it’s supposed to be”

“Okay so, we have Miami, Texas, Las Vegas” You point to the US on the map.

“You’ve got that bit right”

“Then Mexico, and Montreal is somewhere up here” You gesture to Canada. “Not where Mexico City or Montreal are, but I’ll give you the point”

“Australia, Brazil, and the UK”

“Yeah, then what’s the mess on the rest of Europe?” You grin. “There’s Russia, Singapore is like, down here”

“Russia’s right, Singapore isn’t”

You give her a look. “What? You got them wrong!”

“How am I supposed to win if you tell me I get them wrong?”

“Maybe you won’t win then. C’mon-”

You cut her off. “Are you doubting my skills? Fine, I’ll show you. Japan is here-”

“No it’s not”

“This is Italy”

“That one’s right”

“Belgium is here”

“Nope”

“This is the Netherlands”

“Switzerland, actually”

“That’s Bahrain” Rosanna shakes her head. “It’s not”

“Saudia Arabia is here”

“That’s right”

“See, I told you I know my stuff” You tap your head with the marker and grin.

“You’ve got like six wrong”

“That’s Baku”

“Not even close”

“And then there’s Monaco” “You did get that one” You smile proudly.

“Spain”

“Yeah”

“Austria?”

“You were on a streak! Not Austria”

“Hungary”

“You are back to being wrong”

“Qatar”

“Yes, that’s Qatar”

“And Abu Dhabi” You finish.

“And no. Congrats Y/n, you got 14/23 right”

“Yeah, I always get it right”

“I- okay Y/n”

Grill the Grid Episode 3: Youngest to Oldest

“Hi” You sing-song as you walk into the studio and on the mark on the floor.

“Today Y/n, you’re going to put the drivers on the grid in their age order, from the youngest at the top and oldest at the bottom. You have two minutes” Rosanna says, giving you 20 magnets with each driver’s name on them.

“Are you ready?” She asks as you flip through each name.

“Yeah, why not”

“3, 2, 1, go”

“Alright this is gonna be easy. Let’s find oldest and youngest first, so me, I go at the very top, and then... Fernando right here, goes all the way to the bottom” You turn to grin at the camera.

“I believe Oscar is the next youngest, and then Logan? He’s besties with Oscar and that means they’re the same age so yeah, Logan”

You flip through a few more, and suddenly pause.“Um, how old is Zhou? He’s gotta be like, 21? 22? We’ll put him above Logan”

“Then Lando, oh and Yuki, he turned 22 or 23 a few months ago?” You know you’re not getting any answers, you never do, but you ask anyway.

“Or maybe they’re the same age! Yeah, let’s go with that, Lando and Yuki same age”

“Then... Okay, this isn’t easy, who’s next? How old is Charles? I’m gonna say 25 because he’s definitely not 26 and I don’t think anyone is younger than him. So, Charles, I think Pierre because again, they’re besties and that means they’re the same age- or no, Pierre is like, a little older”

“And Max, he’s young, he’s 25 so- oh no”

“Is Pierre older than Max?”

“How old is- Pierre is 26 right? So it goes Chares, Max, then Pierre”

“No because how old is Alex? He’s gotta be like 25 right? He can’t be- how old is George?”

“Oh my god, because see, in my mind, George is like 27 but I know-”

You pause.

“I don't think that’s true so- but how old is Alex?”

“Oh jeez” You cover your face with your hands.

“Alright, let’s do me, Oscar, Logan, Zhou, Lando and Yuki, Alex, Charles, George, Max, Pierre, and then Esteban to top it all off. That makes sense”

“That brings us to like 26-wait! How old is Lance?” You groan and throw your hands up.

“He’s either 24, 25, or 26. We’ll put him in front of Pierre and behind Estie” You look at your work and nod.

“And Carlos! He’s like 27, maybe, so after Esteban, probably”

“Yeah, okay, I think after that no one else is in their twenties, so thirties”

“KMag is 31 I think, Checo is- Checo's on the younger side, 33 or like, 35, I don’t know”

“Bottas is somewhere in between, low thirties I’m gonna say, so after Checo”

“Then Hulk, I think he’s 35 actually, so we’ll put him in front of Valtteri” 

“And then Lewis right under Fernando. Wow, that was easy, I’m so good at this game” You place the last magnet and turn to grin at Rosanna.

“So, you got the first three right, but Yuki is the fourth youngest, then Lando, and then Zhou”

“I was close”

“Then Lance, George, and Charles”

You make a face. “Not so good then”

“Next goes Max, Esteban, and Alex”

“And you got the last seven correct, so you did okay”

“I think I should get extra points for trying though”

“No, Y/n”

(I only did 3 episodes because these were the only ones that I could really make a story out of, so… the end)

[twiishaa]

halloween headcannons with the strawhats (modern strawhat au!!) characters luffy, zoro, sanji, usopp, nami and robin quick a/n i whipped this up in like 20 minutes... i know this is late but should i do a second part?? (please ask me to do law he is rhe love of my life)

luffy ִֶ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.

he LOVES Halloween. he doesn’t really get the ideas and stuff behind it, but trick or treating is his THING.

he doesn’t necessarily get why he has to knock random people’s doors and say ‘trick or treat!!!1!!1!’ but he gets sweets anyways.

to me, luffy is in the middle about costumes, sometimes he just puts a stripey t shirt and is like ��im a pirate!’ but sometimes he puts effort into his costume

loves matching with you though

loves carving pumpkins!! he makes an absolute mess of it though <33

they do end up looking terrible, but that’s how they’re cute!

he loves watching horror movies too! loves the coziness of cuddling with you in the middle of the night

you guys also watch coco around this time of year, since dia de los muertos is around halloween (i am NOT normal about coco i love coco)

halloweens with luffy are funny and full of laughter <3

zoro ִֶָ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.

genuinely sleeps through it

he likes going to the parties for the drinks though

half asses EVERYTHING with it

but, he’ll sit and watch a horror movie or two with you, he likes how you get scared he thinks it’s cute

if you don’t get scared from horror movies , then you guys would laugh at the jumpscares together 😊

does not care about costumes or trick or treat or anything but he’ll tag along with you if you decide to go cos he’ll worry about you alone in the night otherwise!

overall doesn’t care but he’ll do some stuff with you because he likes seeing you get excited over it

sanji (the LOVE of my life) ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.

personally, I think he’d really be into Halloween traditions

you guys would bake cookies together and decorate them to make them spooky , how cute !

probably has dressed up as a Dracula/vampire more than once and will do it again

when Halloween comes around, you guys are the ones to arrange the party

he likes the dressing up part of trick-or-treat more than the getting candy part, definitely

so you get all the candy !

he lets you put makeup on him for parties (he looks GORGEOUS)

you guys don’t watch horror films, but like … the kinda more human… cuter Halloween films

like corpse bride! and encanto <33 (i know encanto isn’t exactly a … halloween movie of sorts but it’s has that vibe to me okay)

but yeah! instead of being outright terrifying, Halloweens with Sanji are fun and cute, with that tone of scare and horror but he would never do anything to shiver your timbers :3

usopp ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.

now…. usopp….

he is a scaredy cat and a halloween WARRIOR at the same time

as he is obsessed with pranks, he capitalises on this time to pull pranks on EVERYONE (you included, soz queen </3)

but the pranks on you are a bit more … calm one may say

watching horror movies with usopp is an experience to say the least

he’s acting all high and mighty but when the jumpscare comes he is CLINGING onto your arm for his life

but, at the end, he denies everything, and he says he wasn’t scared at all…

you both know it’s a lie

also a trick or treating warrior. he goes all out!!

nami ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.

another one who LOVES Halloween

the two of you have gone to so many parties…

you guys are planning your costumes from august, getting all the stuff early and definitely the best dressed

sometimes… when little kids come for trick or treat she tricks them by giving the sweet to them and then taking it away last minute but then she feels really bad so she gives them another sweet

you guys also bake cookies for Halloween together

the result? uhhhhhh it’s the thought that counts right

but overall, Halloween with nami is a very enjoyable and fun time where you guys get to dress up tons and no one asks 😊

nico robin ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚.

oh nico robin save me please

she likes giving little kids sweets in the most normal way possible, she thinks they look really cute in their silly little cat costumes :3 (so do i)

for some reason she’s really good at carving pumpkins like they look FIRE like they are works of ART

loves playing little harmless pranks on you, like usopp, but she makes up for it afterwards with kisses <3

alongside nami has the BEST costume for literally no reason.

you two don’t always go matching, but she helps you look for your outfit !

again, she really enjoys watching horror films with you, she enjoys your reactions to jumpscares (whether you are terrified of them or not)

probably goes as a witch or something basic but makes it look really good

note can you tell i like sanji ... send recs if you want love you bye

[vettelsvee]

YOU'RE NOT HANNA, AND NEVER WILL BE HER | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests here!

red bull sebastian vettel x reader, nico rosberg x reader

word count: 6588

summary: 2010 german gp post race party has many things in store for seb and y/n, who finally do what they both been willing to do for a long time even they're dating hanna prater and nico rosberg

warnings: everything related to gender-based violence (main trigger warning to physical and mental abuse) from nico to y/n (reminder that everything you read on my blog is fiction), curse words, "cheating", mentions of suicide and cancer

a/n: i'm quite scared and happy at the same time to be posting this fic because it's one of my favourite parts ever on history series, but still has me so worried you might not like it because of all the topics (and because history series was originally posted on wattpad and not many people liked it but don't let anyone know that pls). anyways, let me know your thoughts on this one and request anything you might like if you want pls! i'll probably be posting tomorrow another part since my town is currently on high risk alert of floods and we've been told not to leave home. let me remind you that comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! thank you so much <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

2010 Hockenheim   German Grand Prix  

You paused for a moment in front of the bathroom mirror as Valentina finished your makeup. You leaned forward to get a better look, but the your woman followed your movements with perfect synchronization and, surprisingly, without messing it all up.

Your own reflection was completely unrecognizable to you. In front of you stood a beautiful, self-assured Y/N, looking like someone who possibly had a life that, while not perfect, seemed enviable.

You feared that a simple layer of makeup could make you feel completely different from reality. It was as if all your problems had suddenly vanished, and instead had in front of you a superwoman admired by everyone, not a twenty-something whose life was falling apart.

Valentina Martínez, the girl standing beside you with whom you’d had the opportunity to become closer, was one of the Mercedes catering managers and, also, exactly the complete opposite of you. Valentina had a beauty that everyone could admire and a confidence that many, including yourself, would love to have. She could lift others' spirits with just a smile and a few words that, while not wise, were good enough to make sense.

The Argentine radiated the kind of magic you felt you lacked.

So, when Valentina’s gaze fell on yours as you continued to admire how beautiful you felt.

“Come on, Y/N!” Valentina shouted, stepping away from you and starting to bounce on her feet. “I know this isn’t your thing, but I swear you look incredibly hot.”

“Valentina…”

“None of that,” she interrupted, “you need a bit more confidence. I don’t know how you don’t have it with Nico already. He’s totally worth it!”

As Valentina’s smile grew wider, you sighed and lowered your head. You thanked her as calmly as you could for trying to transfer some of her positivity, though you knew it was somewhat of a show Valentina put on for everyone and wasn’t doing anything particularly special for you.

That was what you liked least about her: Valentina was so well-liked and appreciated by everyone that, somehow, she always played the same role, regardless of who she was with.

“I don’t know why I’m going to a party I definitely don’t want to go to,” you confessed with honesty.

Today’s race had been quite tough, and although the strategies were solid, they didn’t seem to deliver the expected results when Seb only managed to get bronze in his home race. That’s why all you wanted to do at that moment was order a good room-service dinner and eat it under the bed sheets while watching some low-budget TV show before trying to get some sleep.

"You know that stepping out of our comfort zone is the best thing," Valentina said, moving closer to you and gently taking your hands. "Besides, you're doing this for Nico," she insisted. "Remember: he's your boyfriend, and it's your duty to make him happy."

You smiled shyly even though, deep down, you shivered a bit at the tone Valentina seemed to be using with you. It was as if she wanted those last words, it's your duty to make him happy, to penetrate your mind and stay there. You tried to ignore it, as it was probably your own insecurities taking over. And, in some way, you knew Valentina wasn’t wrong. She was aware that you needed to stop being so perfectionistic and rigid, and maybe start letting yourself go a little bit more.

"You're right, yeah," you finally said. "Thanks for everything."

Without saying anything else, you left Valentina’s room to head back to your own, just a couple of doors away, not without first gathering the clothes you had been wearing earlier while your friend continued getting ready.

As you took out your room card from the small purse hanging from your shoulder and swiped it to enter, you started feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. However, the moment Nico Rosberg, your boyfriend, came out to greet you and looked you up and down, hands on his hips, all of it disappeared.

"Are you seriously going out dressed like that?" he asked, completely incredulous, pointing at your dress. "You look like a slut."

You were speechless, though part of you wanted to say everything she was feeling. Once again, fear caused you to shrink back, cautious about your actions and the possible consequences. The tone he had used on you was filled with anger and, above all, disappointment. You knew that nothing good would come from answering, so instead you held back everything you wanted to say to him.

“Nico, it's just a dress…” you tried to explain as calmly as possible, not really knowing how to make him see reason without losing your composure.

He stepped closer, and his eyes filled you with nothing but fear. You could swear that, in his fury, the bluish hue of his eyes had turned an orange-red, like fire; his pupils, fully dilated, were what sent you into internal panic.

“I don’t give a damn fuck if it’s just a dress,” he mocked you. “I don’t want you going out like that. You know there’ll be consequences.”

Be careful how you act with me, he had told you one day when you said you weren't in the mood to go out to have dinner. Since then, though you had realized many things he did to you, you’d also started to act with caution and rationality, knowing that blows could come at any moment.

You’d even considered that there was a remote possibility that you might be the one to end things, especially every time you recalled every single insult he used to hurl at you whenever you misbehaved, which had only increased in frequency in recent weeks, following your father’s death and your trip with Seb to your hometown for the funeral.

But, most especially, when the Red Bull Racing driver stayed a few days with you because he was absolutely worried about your mental health getting worse.

A lump formed in you throat as a few tears began to fall freely down your face, ruining the makeup your friend had taken so much time to apply and had turned out so well.

“If you don’t change your clothes right now and put on something that makes you look like a decent person…” He threatened, moving closer with his hand raised. “Think carefully, Y/N: I don’t want to go crazy, but I think you're forcing me to.”

You couldn’t let fear paralyze you at least, not now, as you felt his hand inching closer to your body. Another physical mark that would eventually fade, but another one that would leave a psychological one permanently.

"Please, Nico, don’t do this…” you begged, completely desperate by this point, but trying not to show it. “You said you loved me just the way I am and…”

“I just can’t believe you’re so stubborn! Don’t you get that I don’t want you going out dressed like some desperate girl who clearly wants to fuck with everyone?!” he yelled, filled with rage.

You backed up as much as you could until your back hit one of the surrounding walls. You had encountered this version of Nico before: no matter how hard you tried to reason with him, he would manipulate you until you ended up thinking it was entirely your own fault.

“Please, Nico, don’t shout. I don’t want anyone to hear us…”

“They’ll hear us if that’s what you deserve for wanting to embarrass me,” he shouted again, even more furious.

You knew the tension had reached its peak and that, from there, things would only worsen. 

Nico kept yelling at you. With your eyes squeezed shut and your hands pressed over your ears, waited for the familiar sensation of one of his limbs landing on any part of your body he fancied at that moment.

“Oh, so now you have the nerve to ignore me?”

When you heard him clearly again and saw his hand raise, you somehow found the courage to turn away and quickly slip into the bathroom, forgetting to lock the door in your haste.

“Open up right now!” he screamed.

While he pounded on the door, his yelling relentless, you leaned against the farthest wall, as if he might burst in at any moment. 

It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. 

You gasped for air in a place where there seemed to be none, your hand instinctively clutching your chest as if to shield your heart, which felt like it might burst out at any moment. You had learned to live with anxiety and panic, and both emotions had reached a point where they didn’t control each other but had fused, learning to coexist together with you.

“Nico… I’ll change my clothes,” you said, still crying, your voice choking. “I’m sorry, really,” you lied, trying to sound as convincingly as you could. “But please… don’t hurt me.”

Not again.

Your whispers seemed to have reached him because his pounding and labored breathing quieted. You hoped that the situation had calmed, and it seemed like it had.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead giving you enough time to remove the ruined makeup from your face and apply just a little mascara. A few minutes passed, enough time for you to relax and consider the possible outcomes of what might happen next, before he coldly demanded that you open the door.

You emerged and collided with his chest. Forcing yourself to look up at him, all you could see was contempt.

“Once again, you’ve disappointed me,” he stated without a hint of hesitation. “No wonder why lots of shit happens to you and people treat you so poorly. I was wrong to judge Vettel: he was right to treat you that way, and he should’ve done even more to you.”

All you could do was lower your gaze and head toward your suitcase on the floor, trying to pick something that would be ok with Rosberg’s dress code while reminding yourself that Seb did things quite bad, but he seemed to be truly sorry and apologized many times to you. The beautiful red dress, strapless and embellished across the chest, falling just above your knees, had to be replaced by another dress of the same color, but one that reached your ankles, with a much higher neckline and looser fit, so as not to highlight your nearly nonexistent curves.

“Happy now?” you asked, with as much disdain as you dared, even knowing he might match your face to her outfit.

“If you behaved like a responsible adult, yes,” he muttered as he opened the door and took your hand forcefully. “Sometimes I forget you’re only twenty-two and you have a lot to learn about life.”

Did he really know more about life than you did after all you had to go through?

That thought lingered in your mind throughout the journey, from their floor’s hallway to where the party was held, including the elevator ride where they encountered Mark Webber and a journalist from Sky Sports Germany, Eloise Schimdt. During the conversation between the four of them, though you remained silent, you had to pretend that everything was fine, even as your insides felt like they were shattering further.

As they entered the venue, the music, louder than she liked, started to throb in your ears. Your eyes opened wide to adjust to the dim lights from the spotlights, and, as you always did when in a public place with Nico, you began scanning the scene in detail.

There were more people than the space could comfortably hold. The dance floor was packed with people moving energetically, glasses in hand with the sole mission of keeping the alcohol from spilling. The bar was just as crowded, and in the center, across from shelves stocked with every type of liquor imaginable, she spotted Kimi, Fernando and Jenson with their respective partners, chatting animatedly.

But your eyes didn’t seem to waste any time and ended up settling on the guy standing a bit farther away from the others.

Sebastian was leaning back against the bar, tapping his left hand on it to match the rhythm of the song playing. In his other hand he held a glass of what she assumed was, possibly, a Jägerbomb, his favorite drink and, to him, a must-have for parties like this. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans with those Geox trainers he always wore, and his hair was completely tousled.

In that moment, you felt utterly captivated by him, and you were sure you would have dared to talk to him if his eyes hadn’t been fixed on Hanna. The blonde girl was a few steps in front of him, dancing seductively without caring where she was or who might be watching her.

You couldn’t help but wish, at that moment, to be her.

You shook off those conflicting thoughts as soon as Nico grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, snapping you out of your trance, to head toward the bar.

"Give me a Martini," he said abruptly to the bartender, "and some water for her. She’s a bit dizzy," he lied to stop you from drinking, as he often did every time you went out.

"A Jägerbomb if you can, please," you ended up telling the guy behind the bar with your best smile.

You completely ignored the words and looks Nico was giving you. Instead, you just flashed your best smile at the bartender, who kept looking at you with concern, along with the rest of the people who weren’t too intoxicated yet and had overheard your boyfriend’s words.

"I can’t believe you’re drinking again… Can’t you control yourself or what?" he snapped.

He pulled you aggressively close, and you tried you best to ignore his words, spoken in a threatening tone directly into your ear, while you took your drink from the bar, along with his, and offered it to him.

Surrounded by people, you felt a bit safer than usual. He wouldn’t be able to hurt you, at least not physically, in front of everyone here… His reputation would be ruined, and Nico Rosberg was too proud to allow that.

So you didn’t stay silent.

"Nico, leave me alone for a few hours, please," you replied, ignoring his comments. "I’m here to enjoy the party you were so insistent on coming to, not to get scolded for wanting to have fun with you."

"Damn it, Y/N!" he expressed in frustration. "Do you always have to ruin everything or what?"

You just lifted your glass to avoid spilling your drink and walked towards the dance floor, leaving Rosberg behind, hurling insults you decided to ignore.

As soon as you found yourself among the crowd, greeting familiar faces with a friendly smile, you let yourself get carried away by the rhythm of the music. Tonight your shyness seemed nonexistent, and you could only thank the alcohol for giving you the confidence you had lost. You started to lose track of time as you danced, and though you didn’t know how, each move helped free you from the intrusive thoughts of loneliness and worthlessness, of feeling like nothing more than a mere object, which had crowded your mind at a dizzying speed.

You knew that mixing liquor with the energy drink that funded your lifestyle was only a temporary fix and that, once the effects wore off, your life would return to the completely chaotic state you had come to deserve.

Suddenly, the music stopped, as did the bodies moving on the dance floor. A spotlight focused on the stage, where Seb stood, microphone in hand and swaying. There was no doubt that he was drunk.

His swaying body made it clear that he had no idea what he was doing and that, at some point, he would end up regretting something.

"Sorry, sorry!" he said into the microphone. "But I feel like making a little pause in this party we’ve got going tonight because I want to sing a song to someone I care about a lot."

You began to feel terrible as Vettel gestured to the DJ for the music he wanted. A few seconds later, the first chords of Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars was the only sound echoing in the room.

"Babe, this song is for you, and I want you to know how much you mean to me!"

You could see Hanna smiling broadly and shrugging. You wanted to leave to cry again at the beautiful scene unfolding in front of you, of which you definitely weren’t the main character.

Was it too soon to say that the boy you were in love with dedicating a song to his girlfriend hurt worse than any blow your current boyfriend had ever given you?

Yes, it was clear. Possibly, the alcohol had already taken too strong a hold, and you could no longer control what you said or thought.

You know I'd never ask you to change  

If perfect's what you're searching for  

Then just stay the same  

So don't even bother asking if you look okay

You felt confused and didn’t know what to do, but Sebastian’s voice, trembling and making his English accent sound more German than usual, had you completely captivated.

So did Prater's reaction when the German shifted his gaze from her to you.

“This is for you,” he said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. “I know you know who you are, and I want you to know it’s all for you, and that you deserve the absolute best.”

When I see your face  

There is not a thing that I would change  

'Cause you're amazing  

Just the way you are  

And when you smile  

The whole world stops and stares for a while  

'Cause, girl, you're amazing  

Just the way you are

You noticed Hanna moving to your side, visibly confused and clearly uncomfortable with what was happening.

“Y/N…”

She couldn’t say anything else, nor could you to her. As much as you wished to be Hanna, you couldn’t help feeling sorry for her at the strong possibility that her boyfriend was confessing his feelings to another girl right in front of her.

Or, at least, that’s what the alcohol led you to believe.

“I want you to know that, from the first moment I saw you, you’ve been in my heart,” Seb admitted, his words drawn out, uncaring about the reactions of those around them, especially his girlfriend’s or yours. “Right now, I can’t have what I want most, but I want you to know that being with you is the only wish I’ve made, and the one I’ll keep making on my birthday, until we can finally be together.”

That was the last straw. As quickly as she could, trying in vain to hold back tears and avoid drawing attention, Hanna left, thoroughly embarrassed, muttering something you couldn’t catch. Seb's voice still echoed in your ears, but you tried to ignore it because you couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Lost in thoughts, you moved as far away as you could, trying not to stumble. Then, you made your way to the bar to order another drink, as if that might somehow make you forget what had just happened.

Just before you could exchange words with the bartender who had already served you so many drinks that night, you felt someone take your wrist, though this time much more gently. You knew it wouldn’t be Nico; when you turned around and saw Seb, however, you were even more surprised.

Your eyes met, and butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. Once again, you felt at home and safe, though deep down, you were only afraid.

Without saying a word, he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

In that moment, you felt everything fade away. You let yourself go, unafraid of who might be watching or what might happen next. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss… your first kiss. 

Slowly, calmly, and, as you felt, full of affection, you stayed that way until you both needed air.

You felt that you had both been waiting for this moment for so long and, in a way, you deserved it, turning a simple gesture of affection into something unique and special, caring little about your partners or your sobriety.

Seb pulled back, his hands still resting on you, and your gazes shared in complicity about what had just happened. You knew he was happy but confused, just as you were. You didn’t know what to say, and knowing he didn’t either, you simply gave him a shy smile to let him know everything was okay, that he could do that a thousand times more from now on.

“Y/N…”

“What is it, Seb?”

You wanted him to tell you he loved you, that he’d left Hanna, and that he wanted you to be his new girlfriend, the love of his life.

But, instead, Seb looked at you and left you, once again, speechless:

“You’re not Hanna… and never will be her...”

After he said that, you felt nothing but your breath slipping away and the sensation of fainting.

You wanted to tell him everything you felt at that moment, but his words had hit you so hard that they only increased your confusion and pain.

All you could do was stare at him, likely making a fool of yourself with the amount of tears clouding your vision. Silence took over, and when you finally found the strength to speak, trying to hide the pain you knew your voice would show, he turned away without even saying goodbye.

"How the hell could you do that, Y/N?! You have no shame! You humiliated me in front of everyone. Kissing Sebastian like you don't care about your boyfriend... now I see what you're really up to."

You didn't have time to say anything or leave because Rosberg came running towards you, grabbing your arm with a force you'd never seen in him. It hurt, and your scream, which was more of a complaint from the pain than a surprise, was a way of expressing how much you were hurting, not just from the tight grip, but also from the shake he'd just given you.

"Nico, please, calm down..." you tried to calm him, not wanting to embarrass yourself. Some people were already looking at you, and you wished Earth would swallow you up. "It was just..."

"Don't play innocent!" he shouted too loudly. "You thought I wouldn't find out?! I saw you kissing that piece of shit who only wants to fuck you until he's bored of you," he said, referring to Seb. "Now everyone here knows what you really are: a whore! And I'm glad, Y/N… You have no idea how glad I am."

The music suddenly stopped blasting, but your boyfriend's anger didn’t.

"Nico... I love you, really," you tried to speak. "It was just a moment of weakness..."

The moment of weakness was exactly what you were feeling now, making him believe you were truly in love with him when, in fact, you were only staying in the relationship because you were afraid your reputation wouldn’t make it out alive. 

"You say you love me? Don't make me laugh! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t act like this."

You wanted to tell him that you thought the same about him, but you held back, paralyzed again by the fear that your mind was processing all the bad things that could happen.

"Nico, come on. You don’t have to act like this. We can talk about this civilly."

As you saw Edward, Vettel’s personal trainer, appear, and pull Nico a bit away from you, a little peace returned to your body. You gave him a grateful look, to which he just answered by nodding.

"You don’t have to get involved, Eddie!" your boyfriend shouted. "Stay out of our fucking business!"

"You know you don’t have to treat her like this," he said seriously.

"She’s a whore, can't you see it?" Nico spat, pointing at you. "Disgusting little girl..."

"Nico, I understand you're angry," Patterson spoke again, after the German’s words, "but neither of you is in a state to talk about this, and this is not the right place," he said, referring to the curious looks around them.

You could only constantly whisper for them not to fight anymore, while deep down you prayed to take you away from all of this and bring you back to the hotel.

"I don’t care what you say," Eddie started. "I'm taking Y/N. I don’t think being here is the best thing for her."

After saying that, he stood behind you and guided you, putting his hand on your back, toward his car. At that moment, your desperation was so great that you didn’t even think about whether he was in any condition to drive.

The way back to the hotel, less than ten minutes away, felt eternal.You hadn’t drunk much because you didn’t like it, but not being used to it was enough for a couple of curves and a badly taken roundabout to make you gag and feel like vomiting.

Slowly, the shock began to set in, and you started to act on autopilot mode, following the directions of the man accompanying you, except when he told you it would be best for you to sleep in his room that night.

You didn’t know why, but that set off alarms in your confused brain. The last thing you wanted was to add fuel to the fire by sleeping with another man who wasn’t your boyfriend just to protect you.

"Thanks for everything, Eddie, really, but I think it would be best if I went back to my room to sort things out with Nico."

The Brit didn’t seem to agree with you.

"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but I don’t think it’s best for you to share space with him tonight," he was honest.

"I just want to talk to him and try to put an end to this," you insisted, still knowing you weren't right.

"And I understand you, really, but right now everything is too fresh, and the best thing is for you to rest and let the drunkenness wear off," he said, placing one of your arms over his shoulders. "Come on, I’ll take you to my room."

You decided not to argue anymore because it would be in vain, so you let yourself be guided while he lectured you about how you shouldn’t be intimidated by Nico and how you deserved someone better than him after what had happened at the club that night.

"Edward, Y/N. Good night, guys."

You lifted your gaze and saw another Brit. Jenson was standing in front of you, coming out of the elevator you were about to take. You were greatly surprised that he wasn’t with his girlfriend, but didn’t want to get involved; your alcohol-soaked self, however, wanted to gossip.

"Where are you two going?" he asked, crossing his arms and blocking the elevator doors so they couldn’t pass.

"I’m... taking Y/N to my room," Eddie revealed, stammering a bit for no clear reason. "She’s had a rough time, and it’s best that she doesn’t see Nico’s face tonight."

"And you think the best thing is that you take her to your room?"

Button’s features went from relaxed to a kind of aggression you had never seen in him. It’s not like you had spent much time or had many conversations together, but you knew the situation you were now involved in wasn’t what you had thought it was.

Edward Patterson stayed completely silent.

"Do you want me to call someone to be with you?" Jenson asked you directly, giving you no other option. "Y/N," he insisted again, "who do you want me to call to stay with you tonight?"

"Britta… please," you said as best as you could despite your discomfort.

To your surprise, while Jenson dialed the phone number of the woman you now considered your friend, Eddie let go of you and reluctantly pushed the driver, still leaning against the elevator frame, to leave. He didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to you, something that seemed to upset Button quite a bit.

"Hello, is this Britta?" Jenson began, speaking into the phone. "Great, yes. It’s Jenson. I’m with Y/N, and she asked if you could help her," he started explaining. "I don’t know much about what happened, except that she’s not feeling well and needs help from someone she really trusts," he clarified.

After exchanging a few more words, Jenson led you back to the lobby, where Britta appeared just a few minutes later in a bathrobe, espadrilles, and her hair tied up in a completely unusual way. You had never seen Roeske like that, and all you could do was laugh.

"Come on, let’s go already," Britta said, linking her arm with yours as if you were two old ladies heading to bingo. "This is how I want to see you: laughing, not crying."

When Britta opened the door to her room, you immediately ran and threw yourself onto the bed. Your whole body hurt, and you weren’t sure if it was from the emotions of the night or because the alcohol was hitting its peak.

Whatever it was, you knew perfectly well that lying completely still, face up, and counting the total number of tiles on the ceiling, pointing at them one by one with one eye closed and your tongue sticking out was what was making your hostess laugh.

"Come on, Y/N, get up," Britta asked gently. "Do you mind if I help you get changed? It’s time to put on your pajamas."

You nodded as you sat up and moved to the foot of the bed.

Next, Britta unzipped the dress, and you noticed how she averted her gaze to give you some privacy while offering a nightgown.

"Right now, I’d love for Seb to be the one undressing me to fuck me. God... how I’d love Seb to make me scream now..."

Had you said that out loud?

"What did you just say?"

Britta’s muffled shout and the tone in which she asked, while turning her back without caring whether you had already put the garment on, making you realize that yes, you had said that out loud.

Your first time being drunk was going to be, definitely, a night to remember. Now, you just felt like saying those kinds of things, and you didn’t care at all about having a boyfriend… if he could even be called that.

"Oh…" you said, stretching the last syllable. "Didn’t you know it?"

"Know what?"

By the tone of voice, it seemed Britta thought it was related to the sudden thing you had said.

"Seb and I kissed," you told her, starting to laugh like a lovesick teen.

"This is the alcohol on you, I’m sure of it," Britta said, running to get a wet towel and starting to wipe it across your face. "You mean you and Nico kissed," she tried to correct you. "Seb is dating Hanna, and you’re dating Nico, remember?"

You started shaking your head constantly, about to collapse to the floor. A laugh started escaping you as you couldn’t control it.

"No, no, no, no," you denied while also wagging your finger. "Seb and I kissed. Nico’s an asshole."

"Y/N, you really should go to sleep, you’re not..."

"Of course I’m fine!" you said enthusiastically, getting up from the bed and standing in front of Britta.

The truth was that you only felt fine because of the effect alcohol was having on you. If it wasn’t for that, you would be crawling on the floor crying because you knew you had reached a point where you couldn’t pretend your life was perfect anymore.

"Do you really not believe me when I say that not only did Seb kiss me, but it was the best kiss of my life?"

You knew you were putting Britta in a tough spot, especially considering that the woman was probably closer friends with Hanna than with you.

"And Hanna?" Britta demanded to know. "Was she there, or had she left?"

"Oh, she was there?" you tried to pretend the best you could, using expressions that clearly showed otherwise. "I didn’t know..."

Before you could continue speaking, Britta ran to grab her phone and started making calls. You sat back down, crossing your legs and swaying while watching the blonde desperately cursing in German, since none of the contacts she called were answering.

It was possible that Seb and Hanna were busy, probably having sex. Your drunk self only wished she was in Hanna’s place.

"The only ones who tell the truth are kids and drunks, you know?"

Britta stared at you after those words. It seemed like you needed to say that phrase to make her believe you.

"Are you serious...?" Britta asked.

"What, Britta?" you insisted, urging her to speak.

"Did you really kiss Sebastian?"

You nodded.

"Yes," you confirmed. "Well, I mean, he was the one who took my face and kissed me," you corrected yourself. "Do I owe anyone something, like he owes Hanna?"

You were getting a bit defensive, and you knew it was making Britta nervous.

"Yes! You owe Nico, your boyfriend," Britta replied, giving you a harsh dose of reality.

"I don’t want Nico," you confessed. "At least, not in the way I think I should. He... I don’t know, Britta. I think he’s what I deserve. I try to understand why, but I know that his insults and those things he says to me make me a better person somehow."

You could see Britta go pale. Also, you were starting to feel worse; after all, it was the first time you had opened up about your feelings to someone since the journal Seb gifted you for your birthday last didn’t count as a personal therapist.

Britta usually had words for everything, but that day, you seemed to have left her speechless.

"Y/N..." Britta began, carefully choosing her words. "You’re a good person. You’re just scared."

"Maybe," you replied, trying not to make it a big deal. "And you, are you scared?"

"Of course. Everyone’s afraid of something."

"I’m afraid of being alone," you admitted, lowering your head because you were starting to cry again for the umpteenth time that day. "And I’m afraid of losing Nico. I know no one will ever love me, not better or worse, than he does."

Britta didn’t know what to say, and you felt bad for having to be in her room, drunk, sad, while your “friend” was putting up with you, possibly mediating between her client and her client’s partner.

That’s why you made a move to leave. Fortunately, Britta wouldn’t let you.

"Sit down, Y/N, and let it all out," Britta demanded.

And that’s exactly what you did. You told Britta everything, not just about what had happened since you started dating your current boyfriend, but about your entire life. Living with a mentally sick mother after her accident, her subsequent suicide, their move to Barcelona. Her father’s cancer and how it had worsened in less than two years. All the things Rosberg had said and done to you, even forcing you to do certain stuff you were clearly uncomfortable with.

You cried like you never had before when you told Britta about your first time, reluctantly, on a luxury yacht in Monaco’s seas, and how it gave you nightmares almost every night to the point where she was scared to fall asleep.

You could tell that Britta was truly worried when you started biting your lower lip, and a little tic appeared in your right eye.

"Have you talked to anyone about this?"

"Do you know I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her?"

You were fully aware that you had just avoided answering a crucial question, but you didn’t care at all. You were tired of talking about your burdens and your current life; from now on, you would focus entirely on your future and try to solve and finish once and for all all the problems that made your life a mess.

"But what are you saying, Y/N?" Britta asked, desperate.

"That’s exactly what I would have liked to ask Seb, but he left and Nico messed things up," you revealed, stretching your arms out and pointing to the marks, now red, that were the same shape and size as Mercedes’ driver’s fingers. "Great, yeah," you said ironically.

"But..."

"Do you think if I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her, I might have a chance to date Seb?"

Your question left Britta speechless again, unable to find the words. As Britta struggled to speak, you started playing with your fingers. Giving up, you laid on the bed, your back to Britta, clutching a pillow with the clear intention of falling asleep.

"Why are you telling me this?" Britta asked in a whisper, almost with... pity.

"Because I want Seb," you revealed, letting out a sob because, at last, you had been able to confront and reveal your confusing feelings for a guy who didn’t love you, and never would. "I’m in love with Seb, and it hurts knowing he’ll never love me back, and I know I’ll have to move on sooner or later."

Britta was about to speak, but you took the words from her before she could.

"Before you say anything else, take advantage of me and ask me anything you want: I’m a bit drunk because I’m not used to drinking."

You could tell Britta sighed, likely having lost all patience with you.

"You know... you know that Seb...?"

But then Britta stopped talking. You stood there for a while, staring at the red curtains that covered the window, waiting for the woman to continue. When she didn’t, you turned around:

"You know exactly what about Seb, Britta?" you asked, adjusting yourself on the bed, still hugging the pillow.

"Seb and you need to talk," Britta told you, leaving you speechless. "And when you do that, I’m convinced that you’re going to live the life you both deserve."

"But..."

Britta started to lie you down on the bed again, tucking you in under the linen sheets. Your yawns became more frequent, and after she kissed your forehead just like her mother used to do before your life was destroyed, your eyelids grew heavy.

"I know you won’t remember this tomorrow," Britta’s voice flooded your ears as you curled up into yourself. "But, to Seb, it’s more than obvious that you’re not Hanna and you’ll never be… And that’s exactly why that stupid, but incredible guy, has fallen truly, madly, deeply, in love with you."

You couldn’t tell if Britta’s words were already a dream, or if Morpheus was pulling you into his arms. 

"The day you stop doubting your worth, the world will be at your feet, Y/N. Sebastian has been telling me that and his closest people since you two spent the night together the day before his maiden win in Monza."

[cheriladycl01]

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 3

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

Standing up on the podium, not being able to do anything as you watched Oscar run off was torture. You had to stay there while your national anthem played that should have been amazing considering it was you, Lewis and Lando all up there together.

And of course, there were no breaks for you afterwards. Everyone wanted you, from SkySports, to F1, to Netflix. Everyone was throwing questions at you and asking how different your achievements feel now knowing that your the first woman to have completed many of them.

You were fine answering them, because like they said. All of your previous achievements were now bigger than they were as Ghost. People could tell that you weren't fully with them, you were a little spacey and sometimes struggled with hearing and answering the questions.

Most of them put it down to the post race fuzz of the win and revealing who you were, but upon getting to the Sky Sports Team who consisted of Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg, Natalie Pinkham and Danica Patrick questions turned sour.

"So Y/N aside from racing we caught light of Oscar Piastri's quick depart after the reveal, any insight on this?" Danica asks, making you look down.

"I don't think these questions are necessary" Jenson says just as the Red Bull PR manager was about to ask for racing related questions only.

"Yes please stick to racing questions only" the Red Bull PR backs up, nodding before taking a step back. You look back up, straight to Nico who had a soft look on his face.

"I'm just interested, you raced for Alpine last year when he was a reserve driver... for Alpine and you've been promoted to Red Bull this year while Piastri's made the move to Mclaren. Can't help but wonder if its underlying sexism that's made him this mad, you all cant deny he was blunt and rude in his interview with us earlier" Danica pushes and you head snaps up. You feel a hand on your shoulder as if to stop you from what your about to say but you go ahead anyway.

"I've hurt a dear friend. So how dare you stand there and try to victimize me, when he is the one that I've hurt. He knew me as Ghost's assistant and media manager... we were close and I've not been truthful to him for obvious reasons. So don't stand there and try to make him out to be a misogynistic twat when he isn't. I don't know what you experienced in NASCAR Danica but in F1 all I've experienced today is love and support. Just because your sport sucks doesn't mean mine does" you snap, and recoil shocked that you'd just said all of that. She looks at you also in shock, Jenson and Nico were trying to stop their laughter.

"Well, some strong opinions there from Y/N Y/L/N" Jenson says as he watches you turn away and walk off. You were done with interviews for the day. You just wanted to find Oscar and talk to him now.

"Lando! Lando" you shout as you see the curly haired boy ahead of you walking into the Mclaren motorhome.

"Hey, Y/N or should i say Ghost" he smiles before pulling you into a hug.

"I was not expecting that bombshell today, and I will admit I'm sorry for assuming you were some ugly guy... your very obviously not" he laughs.

"Where's Oscar" you ask, you didn't want to seem rude but of course he was your priority right now.

"Y/N, I don't think its a good idea to see him right now. I think maybe just wait for him to come to you. He's upset and" he starts but you look him dead in the eye.

"He upset me too, he just ran off... at my first race win" you say as selfish as it was... but he also ruined that experience for you.

"I know, but you did like lie to him for just under 2 years" Lando says softly not wanting to rattle your already unstable cage of self hatred.

"And what was i supposed to do Lando, tell him a secret that Red Bull had me sign an NDA over and break my contract and risk loosing my seat?" you ask, hoping he would start to understand.

"Look Y/N you really should go..." Lando pushes looking around the area you were currently in. He put a hand on your lower back as to guide you back out, but you planted yourself still.

"No, I'm not leaving till i talk to him" you grunt.

"Y/N I'm telling you this as your friend and your co-worker. You need to go" he says, you'd actually never seen his eyes this serious before and it had your head cocking to the side in confusion.

As your about to ask him why the hell he's being so twitchy, two people stumble out of the next room a little disheveled and both laughing. You eyes lock on them.

"O-Oscar?" you ask in shock, the girl looks up at him confused and his face turns red but also a sour expression comes onto his face.

Before any of them can say anything your turning away from them, everything feels slow motion, all the voices around you blur and your heartbeat comes erratic.

You couldn't understand why it hurt so much, the thought of him not even for a moment being happy for you up on a podium that he come here to be with some other girl ... or was it because in the time you'd spent with him you'd fallen for the racer.

You round the corner, stumbling behind the Mclaren motorhome so that you could just breath. You crouch down, your head leaning back against the side.

"Fucks sake" you say to yourself, once you'd calmed yourself from the initial shock you fully sat down on the metal edging outside the Mclaren motorhome.

"Y/N?" you hear a voice ask, your head peaks up and you spot Alex and Logan.

"Oh, hey guys. Great Race today!" you smile.

"Why are you just sat outside the Mclaren motorhome?" Logan asks raising an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, erm no reason. I just got lost on my way back to Red Bull" you smile standing up and walking to the long strip and turning left.

"Your still clearly lost, Red Bull's that way" Alex says pointing to the right hand side, that you weren't facing.

"Right, yeah i knew that" you smile, turning round and scuttering off the other way.

To say that the UK was the start of something spectacular was an understatement. You didn't go out and celebrate that night, you stayed in with your family.

The next race was Hungary where you proceeded to take the win away from Max in the last 3 laps, being on the fresher tires. They asked you to let Max take the win but you begged for them to let you fight it out. You shared the podium with Max and Lando, in Spa you came second, sharing the podium with Max and Charles and in The Netherlands you came 4th.

Throughout all of this Oscar hadn't reached out to you. You'd kept in contact with Lando, asking how he was and what had been going on. However Monza changed things.

An article came out about an interview Oscar had done about you and how you hadn't spoken to him since. He hadn't spoken very nicely about you when all you'd done was stick up for him. You guys got into a massive argument outside the garages that of course people caught on camera.

You had a really bad qualifying, the car just didn't have pace and your mind wasn't in the right place. So you were starting P14 on the grid, after a cry to Christian that you were so overwhelmed and him assuring you that it was today that really mattered.

You had turned off everything when you got in the car on the Sunday. No thoughts in your head just the racing. On the start you managed to get yourself to P12 overtaking Liam and Nico right of the bat.

"Excellent start Y/N lets keep pushing"

Martin Bundle - I have to say that Y/N is incredible with these races where she starts down in the back of the grid, and she gets those amazing starts where she slips in the middle of the two drivers ahead and is able to confidently get herself up too places

"Okay, and Alonso are ahead, you have DRS" your engineer tells you, and you are able to overtake Yuki who doesn't go as aggressively into the chicane as you do. You have a little spin but recover enough to pull up aside Alonso on the straight, going for the overtake.

"Amazing Y/N, that's P10 right now. Keep pushing"

Eventually you were left fighting Carlos, Max clipped a tire and was now down in 4th fighting with Charles.

"Y/N this has been a fantastic race, from P14 up to P2, Carlos is 1.8 second ahead. Lets get him and bring home a double podium. Max is fighting for P3 right now. 5 laps to go" he advises.

"Tell him to speed up, I'll give him DRS we can overtake Sainz together so its a 1.2" you advise looking seeing the Ferrari behind you. You slow down on the hairpin, breaking early, which Charles didn't expect where he was concentrating on defending from Max. You speed up, watching as he spins out a little leaving room for Max on the inside.

"Okay, Sainz has sped up there's now a 2.6 second gap"

"Copy that" you say, Max was using your slip stream, but didn't go for the overtake, you easily defended from Charles together while gaining on the other Ferrari.

"Okay last two laps, Sainz, 0.3 second gap"

"Yeah i can fucking tell I'm riding his rear end" you say, the minute you get onto the straight you and Max both go either side of Sainz, sandwiching him in as your about to go into turn 11. He breaks early falling back leaving you to take the optimal racing line and get ahead of Max.

"Is Max fighting this last lap?" you ask.

"He's been told is free to fight. Mode push and bring us another win" your race engineer advises, you breeze through the final lap, it was a close call but you came first.

"Y/N Y/L/N winner of the 2023 Italian Grand Prix" your race engineer says a big grin coming onto your face as you flip up the visor holding your fist up as you see all the Red Bull crew cheering for you on the fencing.

"Where did Oscar place?" you ask, you hadnt thought about him up until now. Even as you passed the orange 81 car, it was just another car then.

"Not a good race for Piastri, P12 behind Lawson"

"Okay. Thank you for the great drive today. Thank you Christian" you say before preparing yourself for the podium.

Would Oscar be there?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

[aroaceleovaldez]

non-exhaustive list of canon powers Nico di Angelo either has shown or is heavily implied to have:

Shadow-travel

Manipulation of shadows/darkness (also possibly use of shadows as a pocket-dimension a la Magicians using the Duat in The Kane Chronicles)

Becoming intangible/shadows

Complete control over skeletons/bones (dead or alive, including summoning, reanimation, and/or changing shape of them) and being able to sense their presence

Summoning, reanimating, commanding, and dispelling the dead/undead (Skeletons, zombies, ghosts, etc & varieties) and being able to sense their presence

Ability to understand/communicate with the dead/undead and potentially other beings of the Underworld

Inherent complete comprehension of Latin

Ability to perceive the usually unperceivable/possibly look upon a deity’s true form without repercussion (at least moreso than the average demigod, though possibly is restricted to chthonic beings) (ex: Tartarus, potentially also interacting with his parents, etc)

Interacting tangibly with ghosts (implied to be a Ghost King thing rather than a Hades/Pluto thing)

Partial or complete immunity to different effects of the Underworld/things within (can consume food/drink of or in the Underworld without repercussions, effects from the Lethe wear off over time instead of being permanent like usual for mortals, etc)

Astral projection/”Walking in dreams”

Dream manipulation and projection (Sending dreams to others, etc.) (presumably includes sharing/projecting dreams with others) alongside inflicting sleep upon others even from a distance.

Illusions

Manipulation of emotions/aura that inflicts specific emotions on others (ex.: radiating fear/death onto enemies)

Projection of emotions and memories onto others (can be so forceful it causes physical damage like a shockwave)

Geokinesis (all forms but also specifically generating black marble) (presumably also specialized control over precious gemstones & non-paper currency)

Temperature manipulation (seemingly only lowering temperature)/creating frost)

Control/manipulation of souls, including living beings (ex: ripping out Bryce Lawrence’s soul)

Perceiving/reading/judging of souls (most likely also a Ghost King thing over Hades/Pluto thing, but possibly both)

Converting living into dead/undead, aka instakill (ex: disintegrating monsters to bone with one touch)

Lowering or manipulation of own vitals (breathing, heart rate, etc)

Death Trance/pseudo-hibernation (possibly also general control over states of consciousness at least for self, in combo with control over vitals & dreams)

Sensing death (impending or when it occurs, sometimes receiving dreams/visions of it occurring)

Able to sense other children of Hades/Pluto (potentially also other chthonic beings in general/able to identify based on sense alone) and also just living beings in general, such as mortals (possibly via souls).

Improved navigation underground/in the Underworld and ability to traverse restricted or normally unnavigable parts of the Underworld

Enhanced strength/abilities when in the Underworld

Inherently unnaturally quiet (possibly able to silence sound on a designated target)

Hiding/shielding self from being perceived (seemingly related to shadows/silence)

[emma-o-yt]

Rick Riordan's problematic age gaps

Apparently reddit hates criticism because this got removed from there after a few minutes, maybe I can get it back up...anyways.

The age of consent in Texas is 17, Texas is where Rick lived (according to wikipedia) up until 2013. And yet...here we are.

Where do I even begin with this bullf*ckery? How about the most egregious of all?

Luke and Annabeth

We have two lines confirming their mutual feelings, one from The Demigod Diaries:

"Overtime, Annabeth developed a crush on Luke. As Annabeth got older, Luke developed feelings for her, too."

Mark of Athena (from her conversation with Venus):

"First there was Luke Castellan, her first crush, who had seen her only as a little sister; then he’d turned evil and decided he liked her—right before he died."

Now let me remind you, Annabeth and Luke have a seven year age difference, they knew each other at 7 and 14. By the time he died, Annabeth was just 16, while he was 23. And it's implied he begun returning her feelings a little before he asked her to run away, perhaps when she was 14. He's paralleled with Percy as Annabeth is his string in the river styx. He asks Annabeth explicitly if she loved him romantically (and she denies because Percy is there).

It's disgustingly inappropriate but at the very least they don't end up together...as for when they do...

Sadie Kane and Anubis

When it comes to immortal romance, I usually go for coded age. Anubis is thousands of years old but is mentally and physically 16, which is fine and dandy except for the fact that Sadie is 12. What do you want me to say except Rick is disgusting for promoting this.

Speaking of extreme age gaps:

Calypso and Leo

When you have a philosophy that every character must end up in a relationship, you run out of sensical options to pair up. Now, I'm a Caleo hater mainly because of how it retconned PJO and also because they are very toxic.

Now hold on, doesn't Caleo fall into coded age? Calypso is 15/16 and Leo is 15, so it's A okay! I suppose, if it wasn't for Calypso's past loves.

Odysseus, he had a wife and a son who was 20 years old in his final year on Ogygia, he is well into adult age. She also mentions the privateer Francis Drake and his wife Elizabeth, he was 45 when he married her.

If your defence is that she's actually thousands of years old, then that must also apply to Caleo. You cannot have it both ways.

Hazel and Frank

It's not that bad but it's necessary to mention for the point I will be making.

The timeline is messed up but I think they're 13 and 16 and meet at 12-15. I mean, come on.

Misogyny and Racism

What do these have in common? Well in 3/4 or 4/4, the younger one is female. In 2/4 or 3/4, the younger one is a person of colour.

Remember Nico? His crush on Percy as revealed in HoH? Well in MoA, there's a cheeky little red herring that happens a bit before Annabeth's talk with Venus (where it is revealed that Luke liked Annnabeth back). She wonders if Nico had a crush on her, but denounces him as too young. Now, Nico's age is inconsistent, I am unsure of his gap with Annabeth but I do know his gap with Percy. It's 3 years 5 months in PJO and 2 years 5 months in HoO (the series we are currently in).

So in RR's messed up mind, a white boy having a relationship with someone 2 to less than 4 years his senior is inappropriate. But a black tween girl dating someone 3 years her senior is just fine, a 12 year old biracial black girl dating a 16 year old is daijoubu, a 15 year old mestizo Latino boy dating an elderly woman is relationship goals, or the reverse a 15 year old girl dating middle aged men is a tragic romance and a 12 year old girl having mutual feelings with a 19 year old man is a "love story for the ages"!

The tv adaptation is so infuriating for this, they made Annabeth black, a lot of the changes they made came off as micro aggressions but especially her relationship with Luke. It's reduced to Luke simping for Annabeth behind her back and it's even worse because you can visibly see how large their age gap is. Heck, Charlie Bushnell and Leah Jeffries have a smaller age gap than book Luke and Annabeth.

Adultification is a huge real life issue. Children of colour and especially female children of colour are seen as less innocent than their white counterparts. Rick, who is dedicated to inclusivity should've known better than to include these illegal relationships. Stans will try and make excuses but it's there, deal with it.

As a black teenage girl who has been a fan of Rick's work for 12 years, I am disappointed.

[cozage]

Hi Coza! Congrats on the milestone! You so deserve it! Can I please have a Law x female Strawhat reader who reunited after they spent the two years together, how do they explain to the rest of the Strawhats that they ended up starting to date during that time (they are still dating now) and how do the strawhats react to the news? Thank you and congrats again!

A/N: I could’ve spent another 12 pages writing about this UGH great prompt friend. (also going to tag @nico-the-witch since they sent me a very similar request FOREVER ago <3)

Characters: female reader x Law Total word count: 1.1k

The Hats or the Hearts

You were dodgy when your crewmates asked you about your two year gap. You were certain that Luffy would feel betrayed by your decision to travel with other pirates, even if it hadn’t been your intention at first. 

You and Law had fallen in love. There was no other way to put it. Your two years had been spent training, but also learning about yourself, and in the softest hours of the night, learning about him. You hadn’t planned to fall in love, especially with another captain. But that was the way your heart chose.

And yet, at the end of the two years, you returned to Sabaody. You couldn’t abandon your family, and Law had respected that. He had business to attend to, anyway. A personal mission he needed to take care of. So you left the crew behind, just the two of you had headed off to Sabaody, and then he left you there to wait for Luffy. 

You should’ve ended things. Both of you knew how impossible it would be for two members of opposing crews to be together. But neither of you could bring yourself to end such a good thing, so you promised to call when you could, and that was that. 

And yet, you still weren’t sure how to break it to Luffy and the others. How do you admit that you spent your two years falling in love while everyone else was isolated on an island, solely focused on their training?

“Luffy, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” you finally said, once the two of you were alone. “It’s about our two year gap. I was-”

“Look!” Luffy shouted, pointing out to sea. “A volcano is erupting! Let’s go there!”

“Listen, Luffy-” you tried again. 

“Wait a minute, Luffy!” Nami shouted over you. 

“Let’s go!” Luffy shouted. He didn’t seem interested in having a heart to heart, though you couldn’t blame him with a fiery sea laid out right in front of him. 

A little while later, you were on the island of Punk Hazard, traveling with Zoro, Luffy, Robin, and Usopp. Your confession and explanation would have to come later. 

Only a few hours, as fate would have it. 

“Oh! It’s you!” Luffy called from atop the beast you rode. “Do you remember me?!”

“He’s the guy we met at the Human Shop in Sabaody,” Zoro murmured. 

You scrambled up to get a better look. A spotted hat and a black cape. But that was impossible, why was he here? He had personal business to take care of. Punk Hazard wasn’t anything important to him. 

“Luffy,” your voice filled with urgency. “There’s something you should know.”

“He’s Trafalgar Law,” Robin reported. “He’s now…”

“Torao!” Luffy shouted. “He helped me get away from the battlefield and treated my wounds.”

“Luffy,” you said again, your eyes still locked on Law. “I need to-”

But he took off running toward Law without listening to your words, and the two captains spoke for several minutes. Your heart sank watching them, watching Law’s eyes flick occasionally to you. This was the last way you wanted your captain to find out about all of this. 

But when Luffy returned, he didn’t say anything about his conversation with Law. You kept waiting for him to bring it up, but you all were being chased by the Navy. Perhaps he knew it was a conversation for later. There were more important tasks to be done. 

Your group raced around the lab and found the rest of your crew, along with some very large children. Ones who appeared to be giants. 

You didn’t rest until everyone was safe in a snowcave, and that’s when you began to notice your crewmates personalities were a little…off. 

“Law switched your minds, didn’t he?” You held back a laugh. Of course he did. He knew the Strawhats wouldn’t be able to leave without being put back into the correct bodies. And you would finally be able to see him again.

“How’d you know?” Nami asked.

“Of course he did!” the random head shouted. “That warlord is the one who cut me up, too!”

“Warlord?!” Luffy shouted, emerging from the snowball he was in. “When did Torao become a warlord?!”

“Within the past two years,” Robin said.

“About ten months ago, if I remember correctly.” Everyone gave you strange looks, and you let out a deep sigh. “Luffy, I really need to talk to you.”

Luffy’s brow furled. He didn’t like the sound of your voice. “What is it?”

You looked around the circle. Better to just tell everyone now and get it over with. “During our two year training time, I sailed with Law and the Heart Pirates.”

There was a long pause. Everyone was looking at their captain, waiting for his response. 

“Torao? Are you sure? He didn’t mention it when I talked to him earlier.”

Law not mentioning or asking about you was odd, but you had to assume he was only doing it out of respect. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, Luffy. I was just scared of what you would say. I was afraid you would kick me out of your crew.”

“Why would I kick you out?” Luffy scratched his head in confusion. “Do you want to leave?”

“No!” you cried out. “No, I want to stay with you and everyone. I just…wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

“Can’t say I blame you for sailing with him,” Nami said. “He’s an interesting character.”

“And quite skilled,” Robin offered up.

But Zoro eyed you warily, trying to figure out your true allegiance. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Luffy, I swear I want to see you become King of the Pirates,” you said, your words genuine. “I think you deserve it more than anyone.”

“Yeah!” Luffy shouted. “But I really don’t know why you were scared to tell me about sailing with Torao. We all did cool things during our time away. Brook toured, Robin joined the Revolutionary Army, and you sailed the sea. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Except that she served under another captain,” Zoro said, still locked onto you. “Another captain who is coincidentally a warlord who helps the government. And he’s coincidentally on this island with us now.”

“I had no idea he was going to be here, I swear!”

“See Zoro?” Luffy shrugged, clearly not caring about the idea Zoro was alluding to. “She says she didn’t know. She’s still a part of our crew. That’s what matters.”

And you were loyal to the Strawhats. But you were also loyal to the Heart Pirates. You just prayed you’d never have to make a decision between one or the other.

[writingwithciara]

It's The Little Things ~Nico Hischier~

summary: y/n is unaware of how nico feels about her, until quinn brings it up

word count: 3.3k

pairing: nico hischier x reader

notes: nico is so precious and doesn't get as much love as he deserves ❣ so here you go nico girlies. hope you enjoy! [jealousy & some mention of sexual content at the end]

masterlist

y/n met quinn in the library at school. quinn was the only one there who didn’t judge y/n for constantly studying and trying to keep her grades up. he was also the only one who would stay and help her when the rest of her study group decided to ditch whatever they were working on to go to a party. no matter how many times she told him to go, he insisted on staying.

he became her best friend and she was his biggest supporter, on and off the ice. so when he was drafted to play for the vancouver canucks, they were both devastated. y/n still had a few years at school and couldn’t join him, but she was proud of him nonetheless. she promised to stay behind and look after luke when he decided to attend the university of michigan. and although she graduated the year before luke was drafted, she still stayed in town to keep him company.

when he was picked 4th overall for the new jersey devils, y/n went with him to newark where they found an apartment that was an affordable price for the both of them, with luke working off his hockey salary and y/n pitching in with whatever she could from her job as a waitress.

after almost a year of living together, they both decided that in order to save a little more money, that they would both move in with jack. and that was fine, for a while. but then the pandemic hit and they were spending too much time together. the boys started getting into more and more ridiculous arguments and it culminated with y/n deciding to find a new place to live. they all agreed that it was for the best, as it would save their friendship.

and it was convenient because their teammate nico was looking for a roommate. y/n didn’t know him very much but she moved in with him anyway.

3 years later, and nico was her favorite person. she felt bad for replacing quinn but he constantly assured her it was okay. he also tried to convince her that the main reason she preferred nico was because she had feelings for him, which she denied every chance she got because she truly did not have feelings for him. there was no reason she needed to have feelings for him.

until there was.

after quinn tried to convince her the last time, y/n started noticing all the little things nico did for her. he would bring her back her favorite snacks after practice and he would run her a bath when he knew she had worked a double shift. he would leave her surprise notes all over the place and he would send her motivational texts whenever he could. when he was on the road for away  games, he would call her or facetime her whenever he had a chance & if he couldn’t, he would send her a text to check in.

he bought her flowers ‘just because’ & he made sure she got the best seats at any of the home games.

she may not have had feelings for him but it was starting to feel like he had them for her.

---

“so what did your boyfriend do for you today?” quinn chuckled as soon as y/n accepted his facetime request.

“he’s not my boyfriend, quinn. we're just roommates.” y/n rolled her eyes. “and he doesn’t do these things every day. just when i'm having a particularly tough day. well that’s how it used to be. but lately, it’s been happening more and more. i'm starting to think that nico might have feelings for me.”

“yeah, probably. he asked luke about you when you guys met but luke didn’t give him the information he wanted.”

“what did he ask about?”

“he wanted to know what your status was. if you were seeing someone or not. but luke wouldn’t tell him.”

“if luke knew all of this, why did he and jack think it would be a good idea to live with him?” y/n set her phone down and looked at the apartment door. nico was supposed to be home shortly and she wanted to make sure he didn’t hear any part of the conversation.

“because they’re idiots, obviously. maybe they were hoping you guys would get together by now but it doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen any time soon.”

“he’s my best friend.”

“ouch.”

“okay he’s my alternate best friend.” y/n smiled. “what do you think of me being with nico?”

“i honestly think you guys are good for each other. it's like you’re each others missing piece or something.”

“quinn, i obviously love him. but it’s not like that. maybe we are soulmates, but i believe it’s only on a platonic level.”

“call it what you want but i do know that your dynamic with him is way different than your dynamic with me.”

“how so?”

“he does things for you and i just don’t.” quinn chuckled.

“that’s because you just suck, hughes.” y/n smiled. she heard the door open but before she could hang up, nico appeared behind her.

“hey quinn.” he waved and then turned to the table behind him, producing a fast food bag.

“i'll talk to you later. bye huggy bear.” y/n quickly hung up and turned to face nico. “what’s the occasion?”

“nothing special. just thought you’d be hungry & i know you haven’t had a good burger in a while so i stopped by that diner you love and got you a burger and some fries. oh and one of those specialty milkshakes and a slice of cheesecake for desert.”

“it’s from tops?”

“yes ma’am.” he smiled, knowing he had just made her day.

“you are the best roommate ever, nico!” y/n threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“i know.” he hugged her back just as tightly and was reluctant to let go but he knew he had to let go eventually so she could eat.

that was the night that y/n started seeing nico differently. she stopped seeing him through her ‘platonic glasses’ and started seeing him with the ‘heart glasses’. there was no way she could tell quinn though.

the next few nights were lonely since nico had to go to a handful of away games. the apartment was empty, quiet and it lacked nico’s presence. y/n couldn’t stand it.

just as she walked into his room to look for his favorite sweater, her phone rang in her pocket. she picked it up and immediately answered when she saw his request for a facetime.

“hey. how's the trip?”

“it’s nice. we won last night’s game.”

“i know. congrats on the goal, by the way. i screamed so loud when it happened and i think our neighbors hate me.”

“that’s impossible.” he smiled. “nobody could hate you.”

“miranda might.” y/n heard jack say somewhere in the background.

“who’s miranda?”

“she’s a girlfriend of one of the guys. she's not very big on any of the single players hanging out with a girl. she doesn’t believe that a guy and a girl can be just friends.” nico chuckled, suddenly seeming tense. “i gotta go but it was nice to see your face, love. i'll call you tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“okay. good luck tomorrow.” she smiled and when nico ended the call, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. something about the call seemed a little off and she needed to get down to the bottom of it.

it was another few days before y/n heard from nico. she sent him a bunch of congratulatory texts after the team won 3 games in a row, with nico scoring at least once in all of them. she even tried calling him but it went straight to voicemail every time.

on the night the devils were set to be back at home, y/n got ready in her custom hischier jersey and the coat he got her for her birthday. luke called her just as she was about to leave.

“hey lukey boy. what's up?”

“just excited to see you. i miss you.”

“awe. well i miss you too.” y/n smiled. “can you put nico on?”

“i would love to but i have no idea where he is right now.”

“okay. just, um, let him know i called and wished him luck tonight.”

“are you coming to the game?”

“of course.” she smiled again. it was hard not to smile with luke. he was sunshine. “gotta cheer on my 2 favorite players in the league.”

“hey, i heard that!” jack shouted from behind the camera. he suddenly appeared but he had a smile on his face, meaning her comment didn’t offend him. “i'm sure quinn wouldn’t be too happy to hear that either.”

“i can have more than 1 favorite player, jack.” she shook her head. “but seriously. good luck to all of you tonight. can't wait to cheer you guys on.”

“can’t wait to see you.” jack waved goodbye before disappearing off camera. luke just chuckled and looked back at his phone.

“we gotta go. see you shortly?”

“you bet. bye luke.” y/n hung up and grabbed her keys. the arena wasn’t far and the weather outside was nice so she decided to walk to the game.

when she got to the arena, she showed her id to security and they let her in, shielding her from fans. she made her way to her reserved seat and noticed a brunette sitting in the seat beside hers. the girl looked up at her and smiled.

“hi. i'm miranda.” she held her had out and y/n shook it before taking the seat next to her. “are you here for luke?”

“no. well, yes. but not just luke.” she watched as the players began skating out onto the ice to practice. she waved to luke and jack as they passed by the glass.

“oh. are you jack’s girlfriend then?”

“what? no. just a former roommate and really good friend of some of the team.”

“oh. that’s awesome.”

“who are you here for?”

“my boyfriend is on the team.” miranda watched the players until she found the one she came to see. y/n watched as the all too familiar 13 skated by them. he waved to miranda and caught y/n’s eye before looking down and skating to where jack and luke were. “that’s him. isn’t he so cute?”

“yeah. totally.” y/n watched as nico kept glancing up at the 2 of them.

down on the ice, luke noticed nico’s change in attitude. “dude, what is going on with you lately? first you ignore y/n for days with no explanation then you have your girlfriend attend the game, knowing full well that y/n would be here & also knowing that miranda doesn’t like her already.”

“she’s not my girlfriend, luke. just a fling.”

“a fling for what? what’s the point of breaking 3 hearts at once?”

“you know why i need this.” he glanced over to the stands and only saw miranda. she smiled at him and blew him a kiss but he just waved back. “what do you mean 3 hearts? the only hearts that are going to be breaking are mine and miranda’s.”

“in case you haven’t noticed, y/n has feelings for you. i can guarantee you’re breaking her heart and making it worse by ignoring her and keeping secrets from her.”

“yeah right, luke. there’s no way. y/n and i are just roommates. she's made that point about a billion times.”

“believe what you want, but we have a game to win, nico.” luke skated over to the bench while nico took his spot on the ice. he constantly looked over at the stands to see if y/n was there. she was but he noticed she was wearing a different jersey than the one she arrived in.

after seeing nico interact with miranda, even if it was brief, y/n suddenly felt wrong for wearing his jersey number while sitting next to his girlfriend. so she went and bought a 43 jersey instead and quickly changed into that, shoving the hischier one into her bag. when she returned to her seat, miranda looked at her.

“cute jersey.”

“thanks.”

at the end of the 2nd period, the devils were up by 2 and they were playing really well. y/n looked down as jack and luke looked up at her. nico waved to her but before she could wave back, miranda was waving instead. nico smiled and looked at his teammates. y/n pulled out her phone and pretended she was just checking her messages.

“hey, i gotta head out. can you tell nico that something came up and that i'm sorry & i'll see him when he gets home?”

“yeah of course. it was nice meeting you.” miranda and y/n waved goodbye to each other as y/n left the building. the air was a lot cooler than it was when she walked to the arena. thank god her coat was able to keep her warm.

she walked into the apartment and quickly turned the game on. the game was almost over and the devils were now down by 2. y/n suddenly felt bad for leaving, having been told by jack, luke & nico that she was their good luck charm. but nothing could make her stay at the game.

when the final buzzer went off, signaling the devils had lost, y/n clicked the tv off and headed to her room to change. she would normally do something to comfort nico after a loss but she figured that since he had miranda now, he wouldn’t need her to do anything to cheer him up.

about an hour later, y/n was in her room when she heard the door slam shut. rapid footsteps could be heard in the hallway before they stopped outside her bedroom door. y/n knew it was nico just by the gentle knock.

“come in.” she set her book down and sat up straight as nico walked in.

“why did you leave?”

“it didn’t feel right being there. your girlfriend doesn’t like me and even though she was being nice, i could tell it was fake.”

“so you left? since when has one person not liking you ever stopped you from doing something?”

“when the person is dating my best friend & doesn’t like me, that’s where i have to draw the boundary line, nico. keep my distance as much as possible to convince her there’s nothing going on between us.”

“she’s not convinced at all. she yelled at me after the game because she didn’t get the right vibe from you. she also asked me to ask you to move out.”

“you’re joking right? unbelievable. un-fucking-believable.” y/n got off her bed and grabbed a bag.

“what are you doing?” nico approached her and tried to slow her down but she kept throwing clothes into the suitcase.

“what does it look like i'm doing? i'm giving you space so you can keep miranda. in the meantime, i'll just stay with luke and jack. no big deal.”

“yes. very big deal.” nico grabbed her wrist gently and halted her movement. she dropped the tshirt she was holding and looked at him. “i don’t want to be with miranda. i made sure to tell her after the game & that’s when she yelled at me. assumed it was because of my commitment to you.”

“there’s no commitment. we're just roommates, nico.” y/n went  to grab the packed bag but nico stood in her way.

“before you go, i need to ask you something.”

“what?”

“do you really believe we’re just roommates? or do you feel a connection too?”

“no idea what you’re talking about.” she went to move around him but he held her in place by placing his hands gently on her shoulders.

“why is this so difficult for you to grasp, y/n?!”

“what are you talking about?” y/n sighed.

“i’m talking about the fact that i have been in love with you for the last 2 years and i thought i was making it obvious when i would do all those things for you. like, what type of roommate buys flowers for the other person for absolutely no reason? what type of person leaves notes for his roommate to find? what kind of guy would draw a bath for his roommate after she got home from a double shift? what kind of person would drop a significant other if they even said one bad thing about their roommate? a person who has no idea how to express his feelings with words, that’s who. i am that type of person, y/n & i need you to believe me.”

“why couldn’t you just come out and tell me how you felt, nico?”

“i told you. i’m not good at using my words when it comes to feelings. but i like you. i like you a lot. and admittedly, using miranda as a way to get over you was the stupidest thing i've ever done because it didn’t work.” he looked down at y/n and sighed. “earlier at the game, i think i felt my heart break like 4 times.”

“what do you mean?”

“well, the first time my heart broke was when i saw you looking upset when you met miranda. the second time was when i saw you had changed out of your hischier jersey and into a luke jersey. made me feel like crap for some reason. the third time my heart broke was when luke scored, you cheered louder than anyone but when i scored, you didn’t get as excited. and the fourth time was when the team lost. i looked up at the stands to see your reaction, only to find that you had left. you never leave the games and when miranda told me you were gone, i got upset and she yelled at me for caring more about he fact that you were gone more than the fact that she was there.” nico reached for y/n’s hand and sighed. “i am so sorry for everything, y/n. miranda meant nothing to me because whenever i was with her, i was thinking of you.”

“i love you, nico. and i’m sorry for not noticing the underlying reason behind all the things you did for me. i thought it was just what a good roommate would do. and i didn’t do anything for you. which i now realize makes me a terrible roommate.”

“you’re not a terrible roommate, y/n.” nico placed his hand on her cheek and smiled. “you’re always there for me when i need you & you always do something to cheer me up if my team loses. you're the best roommate, whether you believe it or not.”

“but you lost tonight and i didn’t do anything for you.”

“you just being here is enough, trust me.” his eyes flicked down to her lips before traveling back to meet her gaze. he didn’t waste anymore time. nico closed the gap and placed his lips firmly on hers. y/n kissed back quickly and pulled him closer.

as the kiss deepened, all of their jealousy was swept away.

nico placed his hands on her waist gently as he laid her down against her mattress. he hovered above her and she tangled her hands in his hair, biting his bottom lip in the process.

his grip on her waist tightened and a low groan came from his mouth as she gently tugged on his hair.

“how do you always look so hot after a game?” y/n asked as she broke the kiss to take a breath.

“only after a game?” he raised his eyebrow.

“oh shut up.” she smirked and pulled him back in. she flipped them over so she was straddling him and nico gazed up at her with he most amount of love he has ever had. or was it lust this time? he didn’t care as he pulled her down for a night neither of them would never forget.

------

taglist: @worldlxvlys @heavenlyhischier @chrisloyalgf @lhughes43 @ijustreallylovethem @captainboomaray @eberles

[maybxlle]

✧˖°. 𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

masterlist | home | rules

contains: a daughter of aphrodite panicking over our favorite white boy. and vise versa (jason grace x daughter of aphrodite!reader)

warnings: shitty ass writing, language, use of yn, and CRINGE. it's pretty bad, read at your own risk ⚠️

author's note: first fic! also, its probably gonna be bad (because i'm a shit writer 😃) im SO sorry about all the cuts! i cannot write. [send in requests y'all!] ALSO if you see any incorrections, no you didn't.

special mentions: thank you so much @canonfeminine for helping me come up with the joke percy says and @hopelesslyromanticshark because i kinda stole her formatting and her amazing advice (love ya coves!)

final word count: 2,098 words

now playing 𓏧 down bad by taylor swift

jason grace was walking outside cabin 13 when he heard you tweaking.

it was only 11am and it sounded like you had been up all night.

"y'all, you know that one song from taylor's new album? down bad? that's so me about superman." you sighed, "i don't even think he cares about me. not even a little."

"now i'm down bad, crying at the gym. everything comes out teenage petulance. fuck it if i can't have him. i might just die, it'd make no difference." you sang under your breath.

jason peeked in the cabin. he saw you hanging off hazel's bed upside down, piper was on the floor painting her nails, while annabeth was sitting in an armchair, reading, and hazel was at her desk, writing a letter to chiron about why they should have state of the art, gold-plated horse feed. they were only in the hades cabin because nico was with will in the infirmary. (awww <3)

"ma'am, we know all of this before. you never shut about hi-" piper began.

"SHUT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP BEFORE I SHOVE A FOOT DOWN YOUR THROAT."

annabeth made a condescending mom face. "yn," she said gently. "maybe you should go to sleep."

you just glared at her until she looked back at her book (rolling her eyes).

"maybe he does like me! he just doesn't know it yet." you triumphantly said.

piper snorted. you got up, and whacked her with your pillow until she fell over.

"ok, geez, i get it. cough cough bitch." piper um-coughed out.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME? SAYS THE WHORE!"

hazel finally looked up, innocently, from her crazy letter, "ok, girls, let's calm down?"

you and piper obliged, scowling at each other.

"anyway, bACK TO WHAT I WAS SAYING. maybe he is in love with me, he just doesn't fucking know it yet!"

"wait, isn't superman jaso-"

"BITCH SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEFORE I GO TO THE DAMNED CABIN AND GET THE FUCKING DUCT TAPE. you don't know who the fuck is lurking."

jason took that as his cue to get the fuck out of there.

our favorite white boy RAN to his boys.

he gathered them in percy's cabin. "guys, i just overheard something."

"what? that the superman theme song plays wherever you go?” percy snickered.

while percy and leo... snort-laughed, frank actually asked what happened.

"basically, i was walking past cabin 13 and the girls were in there, right? so i overhear yn saying something about 'superman' and how this song -down bad i think?- relates to them or something."

suddenly all the boys had their thinking faces on.

"what if she's in love with the actor of superman?" frank suggested.

leo had this eerie look on his face. "grow a couple of brain-cells chinese canadian baby man. she's in love with jason."

everyone just looked at leo. "ok, think about it. who the fuck else flies here? only jason. who else flies? superman."

jason thought about it. "that would make sense since piper was about to say my name when yn cut her off-"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAD WITH THAT???"

"i didn't think that yn would ever like me back." he said matter-of-factly.

to be fair, jason had a crush on you since he arrived at camp. you were so pretty but you were so lively too. your personality was bright and radiant and maybe a bit crazy. just a bit though. but in a good way!

you just radiated positivity as if you were the sun. to him you could've been.

jason didn't realize he zoned out until leo was about to shove a shoe in his mouth.

"LEO?! WHAT THE FLIP ARE YOU DOING?!"

"oh i got him back guys! you like... died." leo said.

"so you were going to resuscitate me by shoving a shoe in my mouth?"

"yeah, basically!"

jason didn't know what to say to that so he didn't say anything!

"can we get back on track?"

"yes," percy answered. "we shall."

"first things first, we already know that you love yn so much from the bottom of your heart. but how are you going to tell her?" frank asked.

jason was at a loss.

"don't worry, i'll sleep on it."

"hey sparky!" you exclaim.

"oh h-hey yn." you side-eyed him, wondering if he heard your gods-awful conversation yesterday.

then you slapped yourself. (mentally?) of course he wouldn't do that! he's your sweet little superman who you are hopelessly in love with!

"do you wanna race to the top of the lava wall with me? don't be shy, you always lose!" you asked.

"um, i don't think i can today yn, sorry."

you were a little lot disappointed. you just really liked him and he fucking rejects you??? what if you tell him how you feel and he doesn't feel the same way? what if you become the laughing-stalk of camp? “k, bye jase.”

after he left you sprinted to your girls.

"BITCHES, CODE RED. WHO HAS AN EMPTY CABIN?"

hazel slowly raised her hand. "just don't mess it up again. if piper doesn't want your foot in her face, don't put it in her goddamn face. ok?"

you scowled at her before sprinting to hazel’s cabin.

you guys took your seats from yesterday.

“JASON WAS ACTING FUCKING WEIIIIRD THIS MORNING.” you glared at piper.

“what the- wHY ARE YOU GUYS LOOKING AT ME?!” piper screeched.

annabeth spoke up, “you were the one who practically said jason’s name.”

“annie. you just said it. SUPERMAN ONLY BITCHES.” you said.

“what if that did happen?” hazel asked. “he’s not a pretty, perfect, goody-two-shoes princess? like you think he is. ”

��YES HE IS SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH HAZEL.”

annabeth, piper, and hazel all just looked at each other, tired with your shit.

“I CAME HERE FOR HELP, NOT THE BITCHY JUDGING COUNCIL!”

"i think she's onto me." jason said to his little boy band.

percy looked up from his game of chess with frank and stroked his chin, "why may that be?"

jason scratched his neck sheepishly, "um, she, like side-eyed me?”

“this is yn we’re talking about. she side-eyes everybody.” leo said.

“BUT NOT ME!” jason panicked.

frank tsked at percy, “what move you gonna make?”

“oh, shut it frank. i’m invested. what else did yn say?”

“i… don’t remember.”

all the boys collectively looked at him.

“I WAS NERVOUS! WHAT IF-”

“SHUT YOUR BLOODY MOUTH!” leo exclaimed. “we need a fucking plan.”

“do you have a plan leo?” frank asked.

“i actually do, frank. gather round children.”

after some meticulous planning, and a couple phone calls, a plan was set.

a prom dress, a boom box, and taylor swift.

exciting right?

it was two days after that stupid conversation (that jason totally didn't overhear).

annabeth, piper and hazel came to drag you from your seat at the docks where you were reading an angsty romance (like the sad emo girl you were after being rejected by the love of your life).

"what the fuck do you whores want?"

"ok rude," annabeth replied, "but you have to come with us."

"we have something exciting for you!" hazel said enthusiastically.

you looked at hazel, "haze, 'excitement', does not exist for me anymore. ever since the love of my goddamned life rejected me- "

piper cut you off, "ok shut up yn. first of all, he didn't even reject you. he just said he can't climb the lava wall with you. just come with us. please don't make a big deal about it."

you looked at the girls suspiciously, "what's in it for me?"

the girls shared a look, "that's a secret. but believe me, everything's in it for you."

"i look like a fucking bratz doll!" you screeched.

"ok, so?" piper replied. "I DON'T WANNA LOOK LIKE A DOLL THAT GOT BOTCHED PLASTIC SURGERY!"

piper was doing and messing up your makeup while annabeth and hazel were looking for a good outfit.

"also miss bitchy," you said, "why am i wearing this much makeup? and why is annabeth and hazel trying so hard to find an outfit?"

piper could see that you were clearly becoming suspicious. she just gave you a small (knowing) smile, "oh don't worry about it sweet."

you were about to jump her when hazel and annabeth came holding ... a prom dress and two inch heels?

“are you shitting me? what the fuck is this?” you asked.

“yn, just put it the fuck on! no. arguments. ” piper said.

you weren’t someone to refuse looking good. (even if piper messed up your makeup.) “fine, but i’m watching y’all.”

they nodded while you went to the bathroom to change.

you came out and hazel to do the back. “ok, how do i look?” you asked, deadpan.

“yn! you look stunning!” hazel exclaimed.

you looked decent. you had an old prom dress that the aphrodite cabin just happened to have and slightly crusty heels.

“this will definitely work. he’ll be drooling all over her.” piper said to annabeth.

you were so confused, what the fuck is happening?

"excuse me? what's going on? cause i am about to shit my pants." you said.

annabeth, hazel, and piper just looked at each other and said, "don't worry about it dear." and burst out laughing. (about what? that wasn't even funny???)

suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"oh my fucking gods, who is it?!" you shout.

piper looked at you. "chill," she opened the door, "hey leo."

"why is leo here?!" she ignored you! leo pulled her outside, when she came back she nodded to annabeth and hazel.

"ok yn! time for your surprise!" hazel said, knowingly.

then, hazel blindfolded you, annabeth and piper grabbed your legs, while leo grabbed your arms. while you were screaming to satan.

next, y'all went on your merry way going gods-know-where!

suddenly you were dropped straight on the fucking ground so hard your ass hurt and all your bindings slipped off.

you were in the middle of the fucking woods. and you could distantaly hear hazel, piper, leo and annabeth running away.

really where you were dropped was gorgeous. you were at a clearing in the middle of the woods. it was around sunset so everything was lit up with the golden sunlight streaming through the leaves. you could hear the faint sound of a creek in the distance.

all of sudden you heard footsteps. you got up of your ass and cursed under your breath when you realized you have no knifes because somebody took them from you.

you turned toward the sound when you saw him.

jason, all dressed up in a matching suit.

"oh, h-hi jason. whatcha doing here?"

"oh, just waiting for a pretty girl so i can give her a dance."

you looked around confusedly. "jase, i think you went the wrong way. all the pretty girls are back at camp."

he chuckled, then pulled a boombox from his ass. "would you give me this dance milady?"

you were so so so baffled. what was happening? but your heart belonged to him. "um, sure?"

he clicked play on the boombox and 'you belong with me' by taylor swift started playing. he grabbed your hands and placed them on his shoulders. (TRUST ok? they're waltzing to "you belong with me", but its fine.

you felt like your heart was going a million miles a second but in slow motion at the same time. you were panicking but you felt so content.

the bridge was playing and you realized how much the song relates to you and jason.

you guys were best friends before you something happened two days ago.

y'all knew each other better than the back of your hand.

he would bring you ice cream when you were on your period and when you weren't.

anytime he had to go on a quest without you he brought you souvenirs.

you told each other about your crazy dreams. like when elmo was chasing you down rodeo drive.

the song ended.

"i-" you looked up.

"um-" jason cut you off.

"you go first." you were terrified, your heart pounding in your chest.

"well, i've had the biggest crush on you, yn. since i arrived, really-"

you cut him off, pulling his mouth to your own.

you were in euphoria for a minute until you both pulled away.

"soooo?" you were giddy, "what now?"

jason looked thoroughly confused, you were too. "i don't know but we'll get through it together."

your cold heart melted a little at that.

"i have a question," you asked, walking away. "did you have a crush only because of my fat ass?"

"oh my gods, yn!"

author's note: so yeah um... there it is. it sucks, i kinda hate it but i thought it was a good idea and i wanted to start writing.

[blorbocedes]

i was always curious about this picture of nico seemingly upset on the podium and lewis trying(?) to comfort him so I dug up the lore.

here's nico looking gorgeously upset on podium. now let's set the scene:

it's bahrain grand prix 2015, and lewis hamilton has won 3 out of 4 races this season. the other race win? sebastian vettel. you have to realise in 2014, nico took it to the last race he was the clear title contender and now lewis and seb are above him in the standings. everyone's giving him the full checo in 2023 treatment, is rosberg a second driver now is his career OVER!!! brocedes are also beefing in the previous race, china 15

is the rosberg flop era imminent?!

hamilpole, vettel 2nd and nico 3rd in quali. race start and nico gets fucking Punted into p4. everyone thinks it's joever.

nico spends this entire race fighting for his life, battling vettel for p2 and is on his ass, forcing him into mistakes. it isn't until vettel damages his front wing and needs to pit letting nico pass. however! 14 laps to go and kimi has pitted for softs is when nico's breaks start failing. these mercs are fast but they're not reliable. kimi starts gaining a second a lap and with 3 laps to go, he overtakes nico to p2.

on the podium and after, nico is upset even though he's now second in the championship -- overtaking vettel by 1 point.

but you can see the gap to lewis, and it doesn't matter how good a race you have or what issues your car has when you're compared to thee teammate of all time.

toto tried empathy simulator

thanks lewis, very helpful

nico's upset on podium because it is hugely frustrating to earn that p2 and lose it in the final 3 laps. he writes in his column:

the next race in barcelona, nico would go to win the race from pole, his first victory in the 2015 season 🏆

anyways I think of that moment where nico's miserable on the podium and lewis nudges his shoulder like chin up, bud a lot

[bansheeoftheforest]

Still refusing to reread PJO/TKC but it is still infesting my brain so woe crossover au be upon yall

Au where Anubis casually gets assigned to be Bianca's and Nico's older brother, anyone?

(messy points below, mostly from Anubis' pov coz he is my pookie, and keep an eye out in the reblogs section for add-ons/updates!)

Like, once the other Egyptian gods start dropping like flies because the magicians are imprisoning them, assuming they may also go after Anubis, he turns to Hades as a very very very last resort because, well, he would like to not be imprisoned for all eternity, thank you very much. Hades agrees on the condition that Anubis looks after his demigods, since he otherwise really isn't to any use of him, which Anubis accepts. So, Anubis is basically the Hades/Pluto demigods' divine babysitter in exchange for some protection from the magicians who may or may not also want to imprison him.

I shall say that this either works bc A) Hades kids radiate enough death so that he can be around them without a host or B) it is all just bureaucracy so when the rest of the Egyptian gods are gone those rules simply do not really apply.

Anyways, once the Big Three ProphecyTM rolls around and Maria Di Angelo kicks the bucket, Anubis is left in charge of making sure the Di Angelo siblings survive, taking them to and staying with them at the Lotus Casino and the different schools that Hades moves them around to, either as their "older brother"/guardian or as their pet dog that the authorities simply don't bat an eye at.

The siblings, with their memories absolutely fucked up, simply accepts that they either have a brother, a dog, an older brother who is occasionally a dog, or a dog that only conveniently shows up when their brother isn't there and vice versa.

And since I haven't read any RR books since I was 12 and I never read the HOO series, I can't really talk much about the logistics from here on out but. I have some thoughts in general.

Anubis makes sure that he takes the majority of the responsibilities, so that Bianca can be a little more happy and a little less stressed than she would have been if she was alone looking after her little brother.

He also happily distracts Nico when Bianca needs a break, he can genuinely listen to Nico ramble about whatever for hours, remembers it quite well and can return the conversation, which Bianca rarely has energy for.

(He was the exact same when he was young and wants to make sure Nico has someone that listens to him)

Genuinely cannot rest until he makes sure the siblings are fine and safe, which becomes a bit of a problem when Bianca goes on her first and last quest, and even more of a problem when he is more stuck in the Brooklyn House and he has to keep contacting Nico before he allows himself or Walt to rest as a result of that.

He is so so so so SO protective of the siblings. He is absolutely ready to die or kill for them. He is not a fighter, more often than not a pacifist, but when it comes to them he is the first to throw hands.

Also him absolutely being ready to kill the demigods that find the siblings at the military school coz he is so used to the "any demigod or magician is here to kill one of us and I have to protect them at all costs" mode that he has been kinda stuck in for the last 70 or so years, minimum.

He is merely an older sibling running on the equivalent of 3 hours of sleep and 2 strong coffees, which really doesn't help the situation once shit starts going down in Brooklyn/the Egyptian pantheon.

Speaking of the Brooklyn House. After being a Divine BabysitterTM for like 2000 years he genuinely cannot get rid of those base instincts, which ends up with him fussing over the Kanes/Walt/Zia and the rest of the initiates because those are CHILDREN and they need to REST and be SAFE and EAT PROPERLY and TAKE YOUR DAMN VITAMINES, WALT.

Because of those 2000 years of babysitting, Anubis is genuinely amazing with kids. You'd think they'd be scared by him, but no. He is the first one they run to when they scraped their knee and need a band aid and a hug.

He also 100% stares right into Percy's and Will's souls the moment he finds out Nico has/had crushes on them. Despite being raised in an entirely different time he definitely is a "no dating until you are at least 25 otherwise I might have a heart attack" sibling and he is not letting some random demigod break his lil brother's heart. He accepts Will well enough though coz he makes Nico laugh which in the end is the most important thing.

Will might actually be more intimidated by Anubis than Hades but that doesn't stop him. Nico is his babygirl and he knows Anubis is (probably) more bark than bite (most of the time).

No matter if Hades allows him to like. stop being a babysitter once the gods are restored and Ma'at is balanced and all, Anubis still sticks around and checks in on Nico (and eventually Hazel). He gets antsy if he hasn't heard from them at least once a day.

He probably has a good base relationship with Jason and Reyna (bc both are protective older siblings when it comes to Nico) but he keeps Percy at a distance ever since Bianca's death (not that he blames him). But he isn't particularly close to any of them, as his priorities lay with Nico, Hazel, and the Brooklyn House.

Assuming Anubis doesn't like. Introduce himself to the greeks as "Anubis" and instead says he is someone else, I have absolutely no idea when or if he would ever tell any of the greek demigods what he truly is. But I suppose Nico would eventually find out that his older brother actually isn't related to him at all, or even from the greek pantheon, and instead only happened to become his older brother as a favour to Hades. Depending on how he finds out he definitely could get upset but I like to believe he sorta figures eventually, and is just happy Anubis genuinely cares for him.

I also like to think that the greek gods they meet when the demigods take the siblings from the school to camp half-blood, just gives Anubis A LookTM. Either they are fully aware he is protecting the Hades kids or they think an Egyptian god is just casually hanging out with some random demigods. Which must certainly be a sight to behold.

Can yall for a moment imagine being the Kane siblings, trying to get the feather of truth from the god of death to avoid the impending apocalypse, who then says "sorry I am mostly on babysitting duty so I can't really help yall more than this, good luck tho."

Walt who meets Nico and is so conflicted because in one way he is slightly weirded out by this tiny depressed gremlin, but in another way the Anubis PartTM of him is just going "protect protect protect protect", which is a weird first impression.

One of the Kane siblings would be interested in Mythomagic, I just know it. Either Sadie coz it is funky or Carter bc it is nerdy. Either way, Nico has at least one Kane to bond with bc of it.

Nico just has the ultimate diplomatic immunity because he can go between Camp Half-blood, Camp Jupiter, and the Brooklyn House basically as he pleases.

On a completely different topic, the majority of Nico's wardrobe is just shit he has stolen from Anubis, he just lets it happen, in part because it is not like he as a god has a limited wardrobe, and in part bc Nico is absolutely adorable when he drowns in Anubis' jackets bc they are too big for him.

Also, Anubis helping Nico train his death magic, and teaching him the easiest ways to build endurance while using it.

Frankly the thought of the rest of the gods being banished, imprisoned, in exile or attempting to free themselves while Anubis is playing babysitter is very funny to me in general. Imagine being Isis or Osiris and attempting to ask your nephew/son what he did during the 2000 years yall were imprisoned and he goes "I took a side job as a babysitter to pay the bills".

Honestly I might reblog this with more thoughts eventually. They are all just so pookie.