I Can't Stop Thinking About How Max Was The First Person Who Genuinely Loved El Unconditionally, Without

Phil immediately looking at Tommy after the announcer says to supervise your children

Video under cut:

From: “riding the fastest roller coaster in England” 3/21/22

Timestamp: 5:32

https://youtu.be/sR5RpqU1f60

Tommy has a wired interview?

my little boy's all grown up

When I say "defending jason online isn't enough, I need a gun" I'm SO fr i literally left the percy Jackson subreddit community on reddit because I see like atleast 5 comments/posts of people going "jason is so worthless and deserved to die, look! Percy is so much better" atleast 3x times a week.

Don't y'all get fucking bored for posting the same stale ahh shit to get upvotes lmao. The goal is to get internet validation from strangers, and the only way to do that is use Jason (aka one of the most hated characters in pjo) as the punching bag

Guess who's crying

But a part of Jason felt grateful.

As the searing pain started to flood from his chest to every molecule of his body, as his lungs started to fill with blood, as his senses numbed and his vision started to blur, Jason felt grateful.

That it was him. It was him and not Piper. It was him and not Apollo. It was him and not the demigod child he met just a few moments ago, who would have been far too young to suffer this type of fate. It was him, and by word of prophecy, that meant no one else would have to die tonight.

The cries of his friends sounded distant. He spent his remaining energy whispering his last request to Tempest, to take his friends as far away from here as the storm spirit can. He didn’t have the strength to look up and see if they made it out.

And as he lay on the broken floor of the sinking ship, his own warm blood pooling around him, his thoughts wandered to his other friends.

To Reyna, with whom he had shared many wonderful memories, who had been a faithful soldier, a reliable leader, an even greater friend, and one of the strongest heroes he had ever met. Jason was certain her name would end up in history books and tales of legend. He wondered if he had done enough to help her protect New Rome when they were both praetors.

To Nico, whom he deeply regretted ever doubting, who had shown Jason that people could be brave and true to themselves in more ways than one, who had been a friend that Jason needed just as much as Nico needed him, and it pained Jason to the end of the earth that he didn’t let Nico know when he could.

To Thalia, his sister, his family, whom he wanted to so desperately let know that he didn’t want to leave her a second time, yet knew she would understand his decision, but still wished he could have spent more time exchanging stories with, and that he could have hugged tighter and longer the last time they were together.

To Coach Hedge, that wild, old satyr, always charging ahead even when the enemy was stronger. Jason was heartbroken he couldn’t live long enough to watch Hedge’s son grow, but Jason’s certain he would grow to be as selfless and kind as his mother, and as stubborn and brave just like his father. He couldn’t have asked for a better protector.

To Percy and Annabeth, whose leadership, strength, and courage he had always admired, who as heroes he was honored to have fought alongside, and as friends he was honored to have made, and his friends at Camp Halfblood, who had taught him so much, and had given him a second life.

To Hazel, Dakota, Gwen, and his friends at Camp Jupiter, who made that place home for him. He thought about the little moments they shared: the dinners, the training, the midnight chats in the barracks. He felt more at ease knowing New Rome is in good hands with soldiers like them, and his faith in Frank as a leader had never once wavered. And in the back of his mind, he knew Hazel would be praetor one day, grieving for another moment that he would be unable to stick around to witness. He was immensely proud of his fellow soldiers, whose strength, bravery, and unity were marks of true Romans.

To Piper, the girl he wholeheartedly loved, whom he never regretted giving his heart to, because she was beautiful, because she was reckless, because she wore her heart on her sleeve, because she never turned her back on anyone who needed her, because she took her world into her own hands. He embraced her flaws, he loved her little habits, and he understood her enough to understand she wasn’t telling him everything, which was okay, because he also saw something in her that he once felt himself - the desire to understand your own identity, to feel secure with yourself, to have something to hold onto - and she deserved the chance to find it, even if she didn’t find it with him. He still loved her deeply, even after she left.

And to Leo, that crazy, wonderful, brilliant boy, the hero he was proud to have ever called his best friend. It had taken Jason all his power not to blow up a fuse and cut the power off for an entire city the moment he heard the news about his return. It had taken Jason twice that amount to look for him everywhere he could. He wished so painfully to let Leo know that they never once gave up hope of finding him, that even after his death they still wouldn’t have imagined ever leaving him out. He wished so painfully to feel the warmth that was so uniquely Leo’s once more. He would have given anything to hear him crack one of his ridiculous jokes just one last time. But even more so, Jason wishes Leo can find peace after returning to a world where they can never see each other again. “Sticking around is my specialty,” Leo once told him. And Jason didn’t doubt it one bit.

Sorry I couldn’t do the same, buddy.

He accepted his regrets. He accepted his mistakes. Moreover, he accepted his fate.

He prayed Apollo would be successful with his mission. He prayed Meg could live longer than he did. He sent out a silent apology and farewell to all of his friends, still holding the utmost respect for them until the end.

And slowly, he closed his eyes and emptied his mind, laying himself to his final rest.

The time it took for these thoughts to fly by would not be over a minute. After that, Jason Grace would exhale one last time, with the memories of the people close to his heart keeping him company up to his final moments as he lay alone in a collapsing ship.

new chapter tomorrow, i'm at the homestretch of editing and! as a bit of a treat you guys are getting two chapters :) i'll publish them within an hour or two of each other (depending on how nice i feel) around my evening time so- keep your eyes out for the usual one hour countdown 👀

I FOUND PEER PRESSURE DUO FANART OF BABY RANBOO, TECHNO, AND PHIL AT THE BEACH AND TECHNO TESTING OUT THE SUNSCREEN ON A RANDOM ENDERMAN AND I CAN'T FIND IT HELP MEEE

sometimes i forget that not everyone has been around for the dsmp as long as i have.

like i Vividly remember watching the stream of wilbur gathering tommy and tubbo to start a drug empire. i will never forget wilbur letting fundy join the crew on the condition that he yells “Fuck 12” in sapnap’s face (as sapnap had taken it upon himself to be the server police).

people talk about how niki or jack were at the revolution and i’m like *lights cigarette* “nah, those wippersnappers didn’t show up ‘til after our independence. niki’s citizenship was discussed as the walls were being constructed but she didn’t actually join until after the dust had settled and the war was done. they were fine citizens,” *chokes on smoke* “but they weren’t there for the fightin’,”

or someone will say that c!wilbur was a terrible president and i’m like

*slams caprisun* “aye, soot was a right bastard sometimes but he was our bastard. cowardly and brave that one, tongue like a silver viper. he wasn’t perfect but he got us our camarvan, our freedom, our walls. sapnap used to bust down the camarvan doors before we built up ‘em black and yellow beauties.” *obnoxious straw sipping noise as the caprisun is clearly empty but i’m stubborn* “the smp was a blazing furnace, but president soot made somewhere we could rest in the walls’ shade,”

“You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone's soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows that they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift.” ― Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus.

PREECH KATH🫡🫶❤️

a little boy doing a little dance