Percabeth Oneshots

Midlife Crisis

By me.

Annabeth sat on the porch of the Big House, resting her chin on her hand as she gazed out at the horizon. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink. It was a beautiful evening, but her mind was elsewhere.

“I think Percy and I are having midlife crises,” she declared suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence.

Grover, who was perched beside her with a bag of ambrosia-flavored chips, nearly choked. “You’re 15! You can’t have a midlife crisis. That’s like having a freakout over which flavor of soda to drink!”

Percy, lounging on the steps and pretending to read a comic book upside down, looked up, his brow furrowed dramatically.

“We could absolutely die at 30!” he proclaimed, throwing his hands up as if he were delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “Do you know how many quests we have left? It’s like the clock is ticking, and I still haven’t figured out how to pay taxes!”

Grover raised an eyebrow. “Dude, do you even know what taxes are? I barely understand the concept of ‘showering regularly.’”

Annabeth chuckled, shaking her head. “Grover, your version of adulting is using soap that smells like a campfire.”

Percy flopped onto his back dramatically, arms spread wide. “But seriously! What if I’m just an average guy with an average job? Like, what if I end up working at a fast-food joint? ‘Hi, welcome to Poseidon’s Burgers! Would you like fries with that?’”

Grover’s eyes widened. “Oh no! You’d definitely get fired for trying to add fish to the menu. ‘Our special today is... Salmon Surprise!’”

Annabeth rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “And you’d have a meltdown when someone orders a salad. ‘You know this is a burger place, right?!’”

Percy shot her a mock glare. “You’re just jealous because I’d have a job before you. Imagine me wearing a visor and an apron. I could be the coolest fast-food employee ever!”

Grover leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “Or we could open a food truck! ‘Percy’s Prawn Palace!’ It’ll be a hit!”

Percy perked up. “I could be the king of seafood! I’d be like a demigod version of Gordon Ramsay! ‘This is raw! What kind of mortal serves raw fish?’”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Gordon Ramsay would literally throw you out of his kitchen, and you’d still be trying to charm him with your seaweed fries.”

Percy gestured dramatically, “And then I’d get kicked out of the culinary world, and my life would spiral out of control! Next thing you know, I’m on a reality show called ‘The Lost Chef: Cooking with Sea Monsters!’”

Grover put his hands to his cheeks. “And I’ll be your sous-chef, fighting off the Kraken while we prepare sushi! I can already hear the dramatic music!”

“Meanwhile, I’m at home, trying to explain to my mom why there’s a giant squid in our kitchen!” Annabeth said, cracking up. “Can you imagine?”

Percy sat up, his eyes wide with mock horror. “And I’ll be like, ‘Mom, it’s not what it looks like! I’m not trying to bring a monster home! We just needed a new food truck mascot!’”

Grover howled with laughter, leaning back against the porch railing. “Forget the food truck! I say we just embrace this whole midlife crisis thing. Let’s buy matching leather jackets and ride around on scooters!”

Annabeth couldn’t help but laugh at the image of them, a trio of demigods in ridiculous leather jackets, zooming around Camp Half-Blood on scooters. “Yeah, because nothing screams ‘mature adults’ like scooters and midlife crises.”

Percy put his hands on his hips and struck a heroic pose. “What if we start a trend? The ‘Young Demigods on a Midlife Crisis’ movement! We’ll host fashion shows in the middle of quests!”

Grover’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “And we can set a record for the most dramatic sighs in a single day!”

“Not to mention the most absurd ‘life is hard’ monologues!” Percy added, putting on a faux-serious face. “I’d go something like, ‘Life is but a fleeting moment filled with eternal snack shortages!’”

Annabeth shook her head, still laughing. “You guys are ridiculous. But honestly, it’s good to know we’re all in this together. Midlife crises or not, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

Grover nodded earnestly. “As long as we don’t start buying sports cars or adopting pet dragons, I think we’ll be okay.”

Percy raised an imaginary glass. “To midlife crises, bad food truck ideas, and the best friends a demigod could ask for!”

They all laughed, the warmth of friendship enveloping them like the fading sunlight, ready to tackle whatever absurdities life threw their way—together.
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Don't forget to check out my new story 'Golden Trio Tales'.