"Stop mother henning already." Clarisse scoffs, arms crossed and leg on top of the other, she sits by ares side.
They were once again welcomed to Olympus, the campers mingling with their parents, siblings and friends.
At the scoff, Percy glares. "I'm not mother henning."
A child from Demeters side pipes up. "You do go all mother hen on us sometimes, mom."
Percys face falls flat, he looks eerily like his father in those moments, and Clarisse cracks.
Her grin is broad and toothy, absolutely gleeful. "Especially after a fight, which you trained them for. Getting less confident now, aren't we?"
Bristling and grumbling, he points at her. "This is conspiracy against me. Did you put them up to this?"
Annoyed now at the accusation, the daughter of Ares drawls her next words. "The cheek comes all from you, shit head."
"Oh, I'll show you cheek," he grumbles, getting up, taking out riptide. "Where is the arena?"
In the end, they ended up beating the shit out of each other to the amusement and exasperation of the others.
("They do realise that we are their parents, right?" Apollo whispers to Will, who grinned back.
"Nah, let them have their fun.")
(Out of everything, a squabbling pair of ares and poseidon kids co-parenting while acting like a divorced couple was not on anyones bingo list. Alas it happened and now everyone looks forward.)
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Imagine getting up early on Nathan Bateman’s birthday to make him breakfast.
It’s early af and you’re getting everything prepped to make him crêpes and he comes into the kitchen all bleary eyed like “wtf are you doing honey?” Surveying the messy kitchen.
You tell him to go back to bed bc you were gunna make him breakfast. And he grabs you from behind, nuzzles into your neck sleepily, kisses your robed shoulder, “Kyoko can make it.” And then you get in a tiny giggling argument over who he thinks is the better cook “me or Kyoko?”.
Nathan sighs like he just realized he’s not going back to sleep anytime soon. “Baby. She’s a fucking algorithm. She’s the greatest chef in the world times a thousand.”
“Nathan that is so rude!”
“Rude? Honey. Please. It’s 5am. Come back to bed. Baby, please. Hey, what’s the problem?”
“There’s nothing I can give you today that you can’t already do or get for yourself!”
“Baby that’s not true, you give me the biggest pounding headaches I’ve ever had. Promise. Now, bed.”
“It’s your birthday and I’m trying to do something nice…”
“Oh shit, you’re right. In that case, as birthday boy, I command you to go back to bed. Don’t worry about your fuckin waffles—“
“Crêpes”
“Sure whatever. Kyoko will figure it out.”
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okay, eddie munson may be big and edgy and scary, and yes he snarls at wankers on the street and has most certainly thrown more punches he can count on one hand, but… well, he’s actually not all that tough once you get to know him.
what’s his favourite movie, you ask? well, you’d think something like halloween or nightmare on elm street, right? wrong! he’s riding a fine line between grease and rocky horror.
what’s his favourite song? oh, yeah, it’s totally gotta be something from one of those angry violent demon bands he listens too, right? like… breaking the law, or run to the hills… or like, master of puppets, right? nope! it’s starman, by david bowie.
his favourite artist? we’ll, sabbath and metallica come pretty close to making the cut, but in truth, it’s the beatles.
and it’s not just his taste that has you fooled, it’s everything about him.
he throws punches, but he can’t remember the last time he won a fight. they all end up with him flat on his back, blood running from his nose or a gash under his eye, and he’s laughing at the asshole who’s serving him like dinner and making jokes, and then ends up crying about it once they’re gone.
and yeah, he wears a lot of edgy, dangerous jewellery. the spikes on his leather wrist bands are one thing, the chunky rings that he surely wears for punching people with are another. but… well, he wears the rings because they’re shiny, and he likes shiny things, and he gets very fidgety and they’re fun to spin. and the leather straps? they look so cool, and he likes rolling his wrist over his thigh or knee when sitting and feeling the spikes prod at his skin, and it tickles.
his mane is actually his top priority on his physical appearance. he will leave the house with teeth un-brushed if running late, but never with tangled curls.
and he wears dorky patterned underwear and matching socks. and he has tattoos of superhero emblems and lord of the rings references and what not. oh, and don’t forget his night time routine. he won’t get a good sleep without it.
say goodbye to wayne, sit on the couch with a good snack and watch an episode of garfeild or looney tunes, or if it’s a weekend a movie, and then shower, do his hair, brush his teeth, hot drink whilst he plucks at his guitar for a couple of minuets, goes to take a piss, puts on his bedtime socks, kisses his guitar goodnight, puts on his sleepy time mix tape, turns out the big light, snuggles down in bed cuddled up to his mangled old teddy from his youth, counts the glow in the dark stars on his roof, and goes to sleep.
but the best part of all - out of all the soft little things that make up eddie munson - is his ability to fucking scare like an ant under a boot.
it’s everyone’s favourite thing, scaring eddie. what’s not fun about making him jump out of his skin? he’s so easy to startle and the pout he pulls once he realises he’s not in real danger is the sweetest little thing the sky will ever see.
jumping out behind doors. blasting loud music right by his ear. creeping up behind him. jabbing his side when he’s deep in concentration. leaning right over him when he’s napping and saying his name.
but the best one of all, is his blatant fear of spiders.
it’s even more humours when you realise he has a tattoo of one on his shoulder.
he fucking despises the cretins. they scare the ever living shit out of him.
an abandoned spider web is left curled up in an old corner? get that the fuck away from him.
a strand of hair fell from his head and lightly brushed his arm or leg? he’s slapping himself until he’s sure there’s no way anything lived through that abuse.
a plastic spider that is so obviously fake is left on his pillow? he’s shouting and running back out of the door.
and god forbid a real spider crawl anywhere near him.
wayne is the designated spider guy, thank you very much. if one’s ever about when he’s not home, we’ll… let’s just say wayne will be lucky to come back home to find the trailer still standing.
he will scream and jump onto table tops, pull out his lighter and hold out the flame to the little bug crawling across the floor about three meters or more away.
or he’ll grab a knife if he’s in the kitchen and defend himself like it was near death.
a can of hairspray is about? well, that thing is going to have stiff fur for years if it doesn’t suffocate under the toxins like eddie does himself.
if someone’s around, he’s screaming and running behind them for protection, and makes them kill the damn thing before it breeds and comes to kill them all with its little army of eight legged beasts.
“it’s an ant, eddie.”
“are you sure-“
“yes, look at it.”
“i don’t want to… oh.”
he won’t let one be crushed under his shoe though, he does not want spider goup on his shoes.
if one touches him, he’s showering and washing all his clothes like the plague has come. if it’s a shirt he doesn’t care much for? he’s burning it.
he is the biggest baby when it comes to spiders and it’s the most adorable of all his features.
wayne’s favourite thing in the world to do is point at eddie frantically when he’s walking around shirtless and scream spider! big spider on you! and watch eddie go though every emotion known to man.
the kid will slap himself and scream like a three year old girl and run and just freak the fuck out, and wayne will just stand there, sipping on his coffee, laughing at the full blown theatrical comedy taking place in his living room.
it always takes eddie like five good minuets to realise wayne’s just talking about his tattoo.
it gets him every time.
so yeah, eddie munson may be a big scary metal head on the outside, but didn’t your mum ever teach you not to judge a book by its cover?
if ever in doubt, just mention the word spider around eddie and watch the tough act die.
but please, whatever you do, don’t forget to console him after because that man is having a heart attack, and will need a good cuddle to calm down.
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