#true friendship means getting into both laughing and sneezing fits

[nonhumanhermitheadcanons]

Bdubs has Plant magic, and flowers will sprout when he sneezes. Keralis gets really bad hay fever. Chaos ensues

Keralis keeps saying that he doesn't blame Bdubs, because the flowers he sprouts are always Keralis' favourites. But sneezing is contagious, and as soon as Keralis starts it triggers an endless back-and-forth of sneezing and an increasing amount of flowery plants! Thankfully, after another hermit has pulled them away from each other they can laugh about it c:

[lovren-la-vida-luka]

Te Mando Flores

Flower shop AU inspired by @tinymodric

Pairing: Modren (Luka Modrić/Dejan Lovren)

Word Count: 2021

Luka looked up from the bouquet he was arranging as the little wind chimes on the door announced with melodic clinks that someone had entered the shop.

In front of him stood a man who could not have looked more out of place in a flower shop if he tried. He was much taller than Luka, tanned and muscular, all tattoos and ripped jeans with an aloof air about him. His dark brown eyes scanned the shop, and settled on its owner.

“Do you work here?” he asked, and Luka smirked.

“No, I just spend my time breaking into random flower shops and arranging bouquets for a laugh.”

His customer raised an eyebrow, and Luka wondered if he’d crossed a line. Just as he was about to apologise for his sarcasm, the man burst into a fit of laughter.

“You’re funny,” he chuckled. “That was a pretty stupid question, I guess. Sorry. Anyway, my cousin is in hospital, she just had a baby, and I wanted to take her flowers…” he reached for the nearest bunch of flowers, but saw Luka shaking his head.

“Allow me. Is the baby a boy or a girl?” he asked.

“A boy,” said the customer with a smile, and Luka walked from behind the counter and started gathering flowers in various soft shades of blue.

Cornflowers, hydrangeas and irises in hand, he walked back and arranged them with white roses – “for innocence and purity, you see, perfect for a new baby” – and sprigs of tiny white flowers – “it’s called baby’s breath” – until he had a beautiful small blue bouquet in front of him.

“So, do they have a name for the baby?” Luka asked politely.

His customer shrugged. “Not last time I heard. I keep telling them Dejan is the best name, but they’re not having any of it.”

“I’m guessing your name is Dejan,” smiled the florist.

“It is,” replied Dejan with a devilish grin. “However did you guess?”

Luka laughed softly. “Just a hunch. It is a nice name, but you may want to ask if they prefer something like Luka. That’s much better.”

“Nice to meet you, Luka,” said Dejan with a wink.

With that, he paid for his flowers and left. “Dejan,” whispered Luka to himself. He’d never thought much about it before, but it was a lovely name.

The next day, Luka had just walked into the back of the shop to pick out some ribbon for a bridal bouquet he’d just arranged when he heard the door chimes.

He sighed to himself, of course having an endless stream of customers was a good thing but with these wedding flowers due to be picked up that afternoon, he couldn’t help feeling he could really do without it today.

He walked back out and stopped in his tracks when he saw who was standing at the counter, holding a pre-arranged bunch of flowers.

“Dejan?”

Dejan smiled. “I saw a bunch like this yesterday when I was in,” he explained. “I thought I’d come back to get some for the house. I’ve always liked lilies.”

“That’s nice,” said Luka with a slight smirk, “but those are amaryllis.”

“Are they? Oh, silly me. Could you tell me the difference?”

Luka suddenly forgot all about the wedding flowers. He explained the differences patiently, showing Dejan different types of lily and comparing them to the amaryllis he was still clutching, until the door swung open.

A tall, slim woman with long black hair walked in and took her sunglasses off, placing them atop her head.

“Ivana,” gasped Luka. “I’m so sorry, I had to help someone out… give me five minutes, I just have to finish the ribbons on your bridal bouquet, everything else is ready.”

The woman smiled warmly. “Don’t worry about it,” she assured Luka as he darted back behind the counter to put the finishing touches on her arrangement. “Luka…” said Ivana warily as she watched him work. “You haven’t been paid to… do anything to these flowers have you? No sneezing powder?”

Luka looked up at her in confusion. “Why on Earth would I put sneezing powder in wedding flowers?!” he asked, and she giggled.

“Sorry, I just had to make sure. Domagoj – my husband to be – he plays these dumb jokes, and the other day I heard him mentioning sneezing powder on the phone and I just hoped it wasn’t you!”

Luka laughed, lifted the bouquet to his face and inhaled deeply. “See? No sneezing powder.”

Suddenly, the sound of the chimes on the door made them both look towards the door, where they saw Dejan, halfway out the door, still holding the flowers. “Bye, Luka,” he grinned. “I’ll be back to pay for these tomorrow, when you’re not so busy!”

Before Luka could object, the door closed and Dejan was gone.

True to his word, Dejan appeared bright and early the next day, not five minutes after Luka had opened the shop.

“I thought I should come down early, in case you thought I’d just stolen your lilies – sorry, amaryllis,” he beamed as he burst through the door, almost knocking the wind chimes down.

He approached the counter and gave Luka the money for the flowers, then lingered aimlessly.

“Did you need help with something else?” Luka asked, and Dejan knew he had to think quickly.

“Yes, uh… it’s my friend’s birthday tomorrow,” he said. “Could you help me arrange a bunch of flowers for her?”

Luka obliged, and picked out flowers that he felt represented the friendship as Dejan awkwardly answered his questions. Before long, Dejan paid him for the second time that day and left for home with a beautiful array of yellow and orange flowers in his hand, trying to decide who to give them to.

This became a regular occurrence.

“I have a lot of friends and family with birthdays in August,” Dejan shrugged on the one occasion that Luka questioned it. Luka smiled to himself, trying to ignore the growing suspicion that Dejan didn’t know anyone with a birthday in August.

Dejan began to learn about flowers and their meanings as he watched Luka arrange his bunches and listened to his explanations. He often repeated these explanations to his friends, family and teammates after sending them a seemingly random bunch of flowers.

“Pink roses and sweet peas both mean gratitude! It’s to say thank you for being a great friend!”

However, sometimes the conversation was more along the lines of “yes, Raketa, I know it’s not your birthday, I didn’t realise he’d attached a happy birthday card, sorry…” and on those days Dejan wondered what the point was, why he was even doing this.

One day, the phone rang, and Dejan half smiled half sighed as he saw that it was the latest recipient of his floral gifts: his younger brother.

“You sent mom and dad flowers last week, on Monday it was Raketa – I saw it on Instagram - and now me? Is there anyone left in this country that you haven’t sent flowers to?!” teased Davor.

Dejan could hear him snickering on the other end of the phone, but his own facial expression switched from a smile to wide eyed realisation.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “There is.”

“You’re so fucking weird, brate,” sighed Davor, but the only response was a soft beep as his phone told him the call had been ended.

Luka sat in the shop, twirling ribbon around his fingers absent-mindedly.

He looked at the calendar – proudly displaying September 3rd – and remembered what Dejan had said. “I know a lot of people with birthdays in August.” It seemed he really did, and now that the month was over, so was Dejan’s persistent presence in the shop.

Luka wondered why that bothered him – why did he miss the loud, obnoxious, tattooed athlete with the newfound flower obsession? Why did he keep mistaking the scents of the flowers for Dejan’s musky cologne? Why was he even thinking about this?

As he contemplated, the door once again announced the arrival of a customer. Seriously, this close to closing time? Luka looked up and felt his heart jump into his mouth. Dejan. He fought the urge to run at the younger man and jump into his arms. As he calmed down and looked at Dejan’s face, he noticed that he looked worried. Scared, even.

“Dejo, are you okay?”

He’d never shortened Dejan’s name before, but it seemed to come naturally, and it brought a slight smile to Dejan’s face.

“I’m fine,” he nodded. “So, you’ve been teaching me about the meanings of flowers, so I’m going to pick out the flowers myself this time and let you arrange them for me, is that okay?”

Luka smiled. “That sounds like a good plan. Let me know if you need any help.”

Dejan barely heard. He was already wandering around the shop, muttering to himself, looking at labels and picking out blooms of various colours and sizes. Around ten minutes and some very conspicuous Google searches later, he appeared at the counter and handed over the flowers to Luka.

Luka pushed his hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear, and observed Dejan’s choices. “Orange roses, for desire and passion. Moonflowers, for the one you dream of. White roses and daffodils… unrequited love.” He looked up at Dejan, biting his lip both from confusion and to try to ward off the tears he felt stinging behind his eyes, once again asking himself why he was bothered.

“That sounds right to me,” said Dejan flatly, avoiding Luka’s eyes.

Luka worked in silence, arranging the flowers with some others that fit the theme, until he could take it no longer. “So, who is she?”

Dejan sighed. “He… is someone I’ve been in love with for quite a while now. My brother convinced me – without knowing it – that it’s time to tell him, and I couldn’t think of a better way.”

Luka nodded and tried his best to smile, dressing the bouquet in soft orange paper that worked perfectly with the colours of the flowers. Make it look terrible, urged a small voice inside his head, but he ignored it, finishing the arrangement with white ribbons and attaching a card so Dejan could write a message.

When he was done, Dejan paid and left without as much as a thank you. Of course, thought Luka. He’s got me all figured out. He knows I like him, so he came in and bought a beautiful bouquet for another man and acted as distant as possible. I wish he’d just stayed away, that would hurt less… Maybe.

A tear trickled slowly down Luka’s face as he thought back to the last time Dejan had been in the shop. What gave it away? What did he do wrong to deserve being shunned in such a cruel way?

He stood up and breathed in deeply, wiping the tears from his eyes. Closing time was ten minutes ago, and Luka had no intention of staying in the shop crying all night. A better plan, he thought, would be to head home and drink enough rakija to wash Dejan’s name out of his mouth, and his brown doe eyes and enchanting smile out of his mind, at least for now.

He took one last look inside the shop, silently cursing Dejan as he realised he’d never look at the flowers the same again, the moonflowers gave him a dull ache in his chest now, the orange and white roses stung him with more than just their thorns. He closed the door, and with a heavy sigh, locked it behind him.

But as he turned to walk away, something caught his eye. Something propped up against the wall beside the door. The damn bouquet, the unmistakable vision of orange and white that had seared itself into his mind, was sitting in front of him again.

He bent down and grabbed it, fumbling at the ribbon and paper to find the little card he’d attached. When he found it, he saw that it bore only one word. The only thing the flowers couldn’t say for themselves.

LUKA.

Tag list: @croatian-nt @zadarskabagudina @roseszymczak @true-forecast @mandzos-bitch @domo-no-domo-yes @flemishyugotalian @brandtsbabe @pachua @arduango @rebicante @bagudinahoe @winters-chiid @gnovocaine @sohandsomemyboy @no-good-ideas @skyeclops @ivapiva @living-lovren @srcevatrenoponoshrvatske @synne-sol  @ghostyghostkilledthehost @asensihoe @strangerturner @princessstradlin @crazy-for-lovren @pontoaids (as ever just ask if you want added/removed from the tags!)

[aggresivelyfriendly]

~Meet Me In The Hallway~

Chapter 6-Lookout Point

The flight from Sydney to New York was the longest of my life, both literally and figuratively. After my word vomit on FaceTime with Harry, I wasn't sure how to face him, his real face. We had spoken since then, but I had avoided more video chats. I still remembered his little kid laugh as I divulged my secrets.

The first thing I had blurted when he answered was the truest and the most damning. I'm sure I had other truths I should not have told him, but I hadn't even admitted those to myself yet.

The ‘I miss you’ came flying out, sailing through the air and landing with a flourish as soon as his damn celery rib eyes de-pixelated. He laughed and smiled goofily, dimples pressed deep and self-assurance apparent.

"You miss me, huh?"

"Yeah," I breathed and searched over his face. I fell back into my bed, if felt slow and dreamy on my end, but my world was beginning to resemble a tilt-o-whirl from the drinks and the sun earlier in the day, so it was probably much more clumsy than my blissed-out brain registered.

"You look comfy."

"Not as comfy as I am in our bed." Had I been more sober I'd have slapped my hand over my mouth.

My favorite smile accompanied the weird snort-sneeze laugh he did when shockingly amused. I sighed, and my hazy brain was pretty sure he missed it. "Which bed was ours, exactly? I recall sleeping in lots of different ones together."

"They were all ours." My drunk conviction was strong. "We were both in them, right?"

"We were," he verified. "Is that your room? Take me on a tour," I was never good at saying no to Harry.

I sat up suddenly and burped. "Woah!?" I grabbed my side table. "I need a minute."

"How much did you have, Melly?"

"I love when you call me that." I later cringed when I recalled that I had said it in a whisper,but in the moment I just looked at him, hard.

He reached up and wiped his chin, " Do I have something on my face!!"

"No, why?"

"You were just staring at my nose, I was afraid I had a bogey."

"No, just looking at you. You're like, really pretty."

HIs eyes lit up as he recognized my quote. He pulled his hand over his face, and took on a irritated look before rolling his eyes, “As if!" then repeated his gesture, “and scene.”

I giggled at his antics. "We quoting movies now?"

"What like it's hard?" I had forgotten all about my room tour with the new game.

My drunk brain was slow, but I loved quoting movies. “Boo, you Whore!” I decided to stick with Mean Girl’s.

“You smell like a baby prostitute!”

“You look disgusting.” I mimicked Colin Firth’s voice pretty well I thought.

“I’m sorry that you are jealous of me, I can’t help it that I’m so popular,” He pretended to push hair off his shoulder.

“Cheat,” I pointed at his through the screen, “You changed the words.”

“No, no, Let me think, I can beat you.”

He’d never beat me at anything, "It'll take a miracle! "I punched my arm in the air in triumph.

"Inconceivable!" He exclaimed and was apparently so proud of himself he slapped his own knee.

"This has devolved, mate, we are just quoting 'The Princess Bride' now."

"Yeah, but it's so good!" He got a gleam in his eye. "We should watch it when you get back."

"Um....Yeah, no. I am going to sleep for two days when we get to America. I’m not walking around like walking dead extra again."

I had a whole plan on dealing with my jet lag. I was going to stay awake the latter half of my flight no matter what and then crash when I found a bed, hopefully with Harry in it. The plan was so brilliant to my sobering brain, I explained it, in detail to Harry. "And for the last two hours, I'll go through my quotes journal and pick one to write on."

"You write? I thought you wanted to do make-up?"

"Um..." Crap, my loose lips had put a large hole in my privacy battleship. "I like to play around sometimes. I like make-up, but I need to get more practice, not on boys, if that's my life plan." I yawned hugely.

"And is it? Your life plan?" He had this head tilt thing he did when I got to talking. Like he was really listening to me, or he was a very attentive golden retriever eager to please his master. That distractible dog was leading me down a path that ran parallel and perpendicular to my missing him. I'd lost the plot thinking about him pleasing me.

"What?"

"You look sleepy, I asked what you wanted to do, like, um, with your life."

What did I want to do with my life? "Um, I'm not sure I know. My parents want me to go to uni after tour--- "

"Not your parents, what do you want?"

"That's kinda why I asked for the gap year, um, tour. I wanna figure that out. I'm being an make-up artist, kinda. And I'm seeing lots of things, inspiring things. I'm trying to live a life worth mining for inspiration I guess." I finished with a shrug. "Not sure I answered your question, though--"

"Are you?" He interrupted. "Being inspired?" He was laying on his bed, in his London house he admitted that he hated sleeping alone in, and all could think to respond with was the truth.

"Yeah," I breathed. He was a sight to behold with his messy hair and his thin deeply v'eed t-shirt. He really was beautiful, on his mussed up fluffy bed of white. At the time, when we were becoming something, I thought he'd inspire me to write. That if I was going to live a life that was full of inspiration it would be with him. Or, at least, whatever came of our pseudo-friendship, I'd be participating in it, rather than watching, far away from anyone else's eyes.

I think the reverse may have been true.

"If you want, I can ask Lou if she could show you some stuff." He rolled onto his back and held his phone aloft. I could almost imagine sitting astride him, his face was so close, comfy. "I know she is showing Lottie, Louis's sister stuff, kinda apprenticeship-like."

"Think she'd mind?" I felt like I'd sobered up quickly as our movie quotes had changed into life discussion. "I know my way around a bit."

"Nah," he shook his head. "She loves that shit." He laughed then, "I think it's funny you wanna do make-up."

I’d heard that before so I immediately got defensive. "Why's that funny?"

Harry sat up then and put one hand up in defense. "Nothing bad." He ducked his chin, "I just don't think I've ever seen you wearing makeup. I'm sure you do, but Lou is always full-faced and Lottie is always playing around too."

"To be fair, I'm usually coming over to you to go to bed." His tongue pressed against his teeth as I said it. “That came out different to what I meant, and you know it," I added quickly.

"Ha Ha, I know, but if you want to come over to go to bed tomorrow, feel free to come as bare as you like."

"Shut up, Harry," I yawned. "I'm gonna sleep, the next few weeks are busy and then its jetting around with you lot. Gonna build up my reserves. I’m already dreading they flight to America"

"Yeah, but then you'll get to see me! I can't wait to feel warm. It's chilly still."

"Nah, you're just spoiled, it's plenty warm here," I quipped, gesturing down to my crop top and short shorts.

"Are you sure it's warm? It would appear you have a chill in the air." He was biting his lip and I had to tear eyes away to look down to check if I had caught his meaning clearly. Shit, my nips been at attention this whole time, probably, at least since he laid back in his bed.

I'm sure my cheeks pinked as I covered my boobs with my arm and angled the camera to only my face. Harry was shaking with laughter. "Oh, cut that shit out, you're such a boy."

"I think you're right." He grabbed at his chest. "Definitely a boy, unlike you!" he pointed.

"Listen, your puffy little nips stand up all the time and I have the decency to not say anything, perv."

He just kept shaking, like he was having some kind of fit. "Are you done laughing at me, or should I just say goodbye now, who's the drunk one here?" I asked.

"Sorry, sorry, your pout is amazing. You did sober up a lot. Seriously. I'm excited to see you soon, I really have missed you." He meant it, he eyes couldn't lie that well. If my cheeks were not already red, they must be by then.

"Yeah, me too," I cut my eyes away from him and swallowed. "I'll text soon. Talk to Lou for me, yeah?"

"Course, I text her already. She likes you, worries that you're always surrounded by rowdy boys--"

"You're not rowdy--"

"She doesn't mean me, doesn't know."

"Will she think it funny, you asking for me?" I worried a little out loud.

"Nah. Don't think about it too much." When I yawned again he said, "You are shit at getting off the phone."

"Yeah, I know," I wasn't really. Only with him.

"You're so tired." He sympathized, I nodded in response.

"Hasta la vista, baby," I peeled my eyes open to watch him smile and shake his head at me.

"Here's looking at you, kid." He dimpled for me and his face invaded my dreams that night, when I was able to sleep.

[dotshiiki]

CoL, chpt 18

XVIII: PERCY

The Jackson-Blofis apartment wasn't spacious to begin with. Now, with nearly twenty people crowded into the living room, it seemed five times more cramped than usual.

None of the friends Percy had invited over for Christmas seemed to mind, though.

His mom and stepdad had pushed all the furniture to the walls so that their guests could sprawl on the floor, passing cookies, chips, and seven-layer bean dip around.

They were all here—Percy's closest friends, the ones who had voluntarily trudged through Tartarus with him, or travelled cross-country to get them out of the pit. Others who hadn't been directly involved, but were part of his weird extended family all the same.

On the couch, Jason and Frank were deep in conversation with Paul, looking for all the world like a triad of high school teachers. Piper, Calypso, and Rachel sat in a cross-legged circle around the two-foot plastic tree they were decorating. Hazel, Tyson, and Ella played patty-cake with Percy's half-sister Joy. Thalia, Reyna, and Annabeth were having a discussion (Percy couldn't hear what the topic was, but he caught his name occasionally). Grover and Nico were locked in a debate on—of all things—reincarnation versus rebirth.

Percy himself was competing with Leo and Will to see who could build the tallest tower out of tortilla chips. He was losing at the moment—his stacks kept falling apart and he'd already started over from scratch several times.

Annabeth detached herself from Thalia and Reyna and came over to observe Percy's pathetic tortilla tower.

'You need a stronger foundation,' she said.

'How would you do it?'

She thought for a moment, then smeared bean dip across his chip base as a coagulant. He stacked a couple of chips card-house-style, and they held firm this time.

'Hey, no fair getting help from the architect of Olympus!' Leo complained. His tower was almost a foot tall. Percy had no idea how he'd managed it.

Will sneezed. Both his and Leo's chips went flying into the branches of the mini Christmas tree.

'Hey!' Leo and Piper cried simultaneously.

'Sorry!'

Piper brushed chips out of her tree. It was practically dripping with tinsel and overloaded with shiny baubles.

Leo raised his eyebrows. 'For a daughter of Aphrodite,' he commented, 'you're not doing a great job dressing that thing up, Pipes.'

'Don't call me that,' Piper snapped. 'And what would you know about accessorising, Mechanic-man?'

'I like it,' Calypso said. 'It's colourful.' She glared at Leo, who raised his hands immediately in surrender.

'It does need more white space,' Rachel mused. 'We could do a better job with a bigger tree.'

'Does it look like a bigger tree would fit in here?' Piper spread her arms and smacked Jason's calves, proving her point.

'Well, if it's a bigger tree you need, why don't you dress Thalia up?' Will joked.

Thalia flipped him a gesture that made Grover shoot her an accusing look and reach over to cover the eyes of the two-year-old in Hazel's lap. Reyna grabbed Thalia's offending hand and laced her fingers in it. Thalia grinned ruefully.

'Sorry, Paul,' she said to Percy's stepfather.

Paul accepted this with a shrug. 'I don't think Joy's old enough to understand what that means. Then again, I'd rather she not copy that particular hand signal in public.'

'And I gave up being a tree for Lent,' Thalia shot at Will. 'Oh wait, it wasn't for Lent—it was to save your sorry ass.'

'THALIA!'

Percy laughed. Gaining back six years and resigning as a Hunter certainly hadn't made much of a dent in Thalia's feisty personality.

Joy wriggled against Grover's hands, which were clamped over her ears this time. 'Tree!' she shouted gleefully, and stomped right through the collapsed chip towers and bean dip to Piper, Rachel, and Calypso's trussed up masterpiece.

Annabeth snatched up the plate of blue chocolate chip cookies—only one was left—before Joy could trample it, too. Percy beat Leo to the last cookie and stuck his tongue out at his friend before popping it into his mouth.

'Real generous host you are,' Leo grumbled.

'Hey, all's fair in love and blue cookies!' Percy grinned. 'I'll get more,' he promised, taking the plate from Annabeth. He kissed her on the cheek and got up, brushing crumbs out of his lap.

His mom was bent over the oven when he entered the kitchen.

'You should come join us,' Percy said.

'I will,' said his mom. 'Once this last batch is done.' She eyed the empty plate he set on the kitchen counter. 'Looks like they're a hit.'

'Your cooking's famous,' Percy assured her. 'Thanks for letting us have the party here.'

'You know your friends are always welcome,' said his mom. 'And Paul and I love having you home. Especially after you've been on a quest.' She shook her head. 'Every year I think maybe this will be the year that you stop scaring me with your adventures, but it never ends, does it?'

Percy shrugged. 'We can always hope. I'm sorry I made you worry again, Mom.'

His mom made a little pffft noise and waved her hand dismissively. 'It wasn't your fault. And you're here now. You've always come back.' She reached up to muss his hair. 'Every time, you come back.'

He shifted guiltily, remembering the disastrous Iris-message a few weeks back, when he hadn't a clue who his family was. He was so sick of the way stuff kept coming up—it wasn't just his life it disrupted. There were his friends and family, too, who always got caught in the crossfire of his unpredictable life. He'd hurt so many people over the years, intentionally or not.

His mind flitted to Jessica. He hadn't really thought of her since their catastrophic date, which now felt like something from another life. He wondered how she was getting on with her goal of living a life uncomplicated by the gods. Maybe he should have invited her here as a sort of apology. Then again, given her distaste for her mythological heritage, hanging out with a group of first-generation demigods—not to mention a satyr, a Cyclops, and a harpy—probably wasn't her idea of fun.

'Do you think your life would have been better without all this mythological shit—er, I mean—stuff? If you didn't know it existed?'

'That's a tough question, honey. Do I ever wish things had been simpler? Yes, of course. And I won't deny that the mythological shit,' she winked at him, 'is complicated. But it's easy to blame the gods when really, that's just life. Life's complicated. You don't have to be a demigod for things to keep happening to you.'

He remembered then that her life had been pretty crappy even before she'd ended up a pregnant single mom with a child who had a big target painted on him. Still, could her life have been better if she hadn't met Poseidon, if her path had taken her straight to Paul and Joy without the detours around a delinquent son and an abusive husband?

'I wouldn't give any of it up,' his mom said firmly. 'No matter how hard or painful it was, meeting your dad gave me one of the best things in my life—you. And I wouldn't trade you for anything. Nothing worth having is easy, Percy.'

Percy knew she was right. If there was one thing he knew from all the battles he'd fought, it was that they made him appreciate what he had so much more. The friends he'd made—so loyal that they'd voluntarily descended into a land beyond hell just for him. Those friendships had been forged in quests and tempered by trials into a bond as powerful as the celestial bronze of Riptide. Their last trudge through Tartarus had only strengthened it further.

And he thought of Annabeth. He could hear her laugh rising above the chatter in the next room. He'd known forever that he wanted to build something permanent with her. Now, more than ever, he wanted to seal the deal. His eyes landed on the thin, gold band on his mom's ring finger. If his memories ever got stolen again, he wanted official proof that could remind him of what Annabeth meant to him.

His mom seemed to read his mind. 'I think if you don't pop the question, she might very well ask you.'

'We haven't really talked about it. I mean, we're only sophomores, and I don't even know if I'll make it to graduation, with all the stuff that keeps happening—'

'But you'll get there,' his mom promised. 'You know, when you were a kid, I used to tell you that you could do anything. And you survived everything your world threw at you, you passed high school, and you found a whole family sitting out there.' She waved her hand towards the living room. 'Look at how far you've come, Percy.'

Again, she was right. The future stretched out in his imagination: college graduation, Annabeth in a wedding dress, babies with black hair and grey eyes.

Percy wasn't Rachel; his visions didn't predict anything. But he could work towards making them come true.

The oven timer went off with a ding! His mom pulled out the cookie tray and refilled the empty plate.

'Nothing's impossible, Percy,' she said.

Percy looked down at the full plate. It was his mom's enduring, edible reminder that little miracles could and did happen.

'Cookies can be blue,' he said with a grin.

'Exactly.'

And together, bearing the full plate of blue cookies, Percy and his mom made their way back into the circle of love and family in the next room.

THE END

And that’s a wrap! The end of this massive project that got way out of hand. I actually wrote this epilogue twice. The first version involved Percy and Sally and a long angsty conversation, but it refused to come together and I realised ... well, I needed everyone together for the final curtain call. So here they are. Thank you for sticking with this story. I hope you've enjoyed the ride. I certainly have. And with that, I have to say one more enormous thank you to my betas, @supernaturally-percyjackson and @preciouschildrenofolympus or their help in whipping this monster of a fic into shape. They were an amazing team to have and I am so grateful for all the feedback they've given to help make this story better! 

Also, if you haven't yet, go check out @preciouschildrenofolympus‘s amazing art for the story here and here!

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