𝑱𝒖𝒅𝒆✴︎˚｡⋆

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐒

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐥

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐞

𝐱 𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝟏𝟎 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝟐

𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐚

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐭

𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢

𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

𝐲𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢

𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄

𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦

𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐬

𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊

𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚

𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

𝐬𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐢

𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANY OF MY WORK TO BE COPIED, TRANSLATED OR REPOSTED UNDER DIFFERENT NAMES OR ACCOUNTS.

DO NOT FEED MY WORK INTO AI.

𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚜? 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎

𝙲𝙰𝙱𝙸𝙽 𝟼, 𝚃𝚄𝙴𝚂𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 —𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙿𝙾𝚅

“Connor Stoll when I get my hands on you!” you scream. God, what an A-class idiot! Seriously, who the hell finds it the least bit funny to sprinkle - no, not sprinkle, cloak - someone’s mattress in glitter. Evidently, Mr Stoll finds it bloody hilarious, his obnoxious wheeze practically protruding through the cabin walls. It is simply incomprehensible to you why he would take so much pleasure in tormenting you and your siblings. As result of his shenanigans, you decide he must face some sort of consequence and so you are now chasing him across the unpleasant stretch of damp grass, pyjama ankles almost soaked. “Connor! You get back here this second!” you might like to sound more composed, were you not so blinded by irritation. Him and those stupid ugly slippers he’s always prancing about in on the evenings. Still laughing at your pursuit, he turns back, jarring grin wide across his face. He slows to a stop and you catch him, finally. Tugging on the hem of his shirt to prevent any getaways, you begin your angry spiel. He didn’t even look sorry! What a dick, smiling at the terrible inconvenience he’s caused for you.

“You’re going to go to Chiron and tell him exactly what you’ve done, and then you’re going to come back to my cabin and change my bedsheets, do you understand?” you speak to him patronisingly, as if he were a small child who hasn’t yet learned to wash their hands.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say missy.” he lazily replies, eyes rolling and grin dropping to more of a smirk.

“Don’t you ‘missy’ me, mister!” and with that, he is dragged by his shirt to the big house.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

After the ten minutes of him insisting to Chiron he’s “completely innocent” in the matter, and you insisting to Chiron he has more than just your wrath as punishment, the conclusion is finally reached Connor will help you clean up the glitter and change your sheets (as you had previously threatened him with).

Trailing behind you, he's sputtering half apologies and stupid quips about how he 'knows you like it really'. 'Likes it' my ass, you could've been reading in bed right now had he not thought it funny to cause such a remarkably unfunny (and poorly strategised) prank. He was so immature sometimes. Regardless, you were glad he was accepting his punishment so gracefully.

You stand watching, hands on your hips as he sloppily hoovers up the glitter from around your bed, then taking off the tainted sheets from your bed, replacing them with new ones, flashing you a grin over his shoulder every few moments, like this was actually amusing, Little freak was probably enjoying this. You could tell he was dragging this out to be petulant and consume more of your precious time.

"Hurry up, Connor." you said pointedly.

"I'm going as fast as I can, clever clogs." he said, and although he was facing away from you, you still could practically see the sneer accompanying the nickname. What a dick.

“Yeah, sure you are.” you quip, patience wearing thin. A minute or two of him stretching sheets, dramatically flaring duvet covers and flicking specks of glitter across the room, he finally announces his work done.

“And I present to you, drum roll please,” unimpressed silence follows, “your bed, ma’am.” He dramatically indicates to his work with an outstretched arm and smoothly flourishes into a bow. You almost smile, but, remembering yourself, catch it and immediately form it into something of what you hope is an intimidating frown. “Yeah, thanks Stoll.” you say, no real gratitude for this whole inconvenience behind your words. He just smiles widely, and as he leaves, some mumbling about ‘stupid’. At least he was self aware I suppose.

𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙾𝚁

She absolutely found it funny. I mean, not even I missed the way her lips almost stretched into a smile. Being honest, she’s probably into me. You’d think so, how she tugged me by my shirt like I was a misbehaving child. Y’know, if she weren’t so serious all the time, we’d probably get along; as much as it’s devastating to find myself facing punishment for my torment, it’s worth it, she’s really quite pretty when she’s frowning. Whatever, she’s got approximately zero sense of humour and even less levity. Seriously frigid.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

??:??

You’ve rewatched the tape for the forty-seventh time and nothing new has occurred to you. The boxy screen glares against your tired eyes and you can feel sleep clogging your brain up. You aren’t even sure of the time. Sitting at L’s desk, stuck in a looping futility of watching and drawing no conclusions. This is so stupid; running around in circles after Kira like this!

Your frustration gets the better of you and leaning forward to punch the screen off with your finger, you groan in aggravation and annoyance. You feel L’s eyes boring into you as you bring your knees to your chest and press your forehead into them, huffing out breath.

Then, a scrape along the table top drags your attention back to reality. Behold, a slice of half eaten cake sits in front of you. Pulling your eyes to meet L’s, you are met with his outstretched hand dangling a small fork within your reach. “Are you sure?” you ask, it feels immensely intrusive to take anything more from him after all he has done already. He nods in response and wafts the fork more in your general direction, motioning for you to take it. You take it, acutely aware of your hands skimming. When you take a bite of the admittedly delectable cake, you notice the small smile gracing L’s face and can’t help but smile weakly in silent answer. “Thank you, L.” you say as sweet sponge melts onto your tongue. “Of course.” his smooth voice returns, an obvious statement, like your thanks be not necessary, then leans forward and presses the screen back to life.

02:34

You feel the sleep building in your tear ducts and the sting of exhausted tears prodding at your eyes. Sitting here all night has drawn up almost no conclusions nor any new evidence. You slump in your chair, completely oblivious to the proximity between you and L, chairs hardly a foot away from each other. One of his fingers taps the seat, the other pressed into his lips; bored, you copy him, surely at this time at night you couldn’t be able to find out much else anyhow, why not? He shifts in his seat, and so do you. Ignoring the sideways glance this earns you, you continue to mirror every inch he moves.

“If you are tired you do not have to stay with me, you know.” he mumbles out, finger still pressed to his lips, distorting the words. It catches you off guard and you’re a little embarrassed. “No, I was just… I’m just bored, that’s all.” It sounded silly, but trying to come up with an excuse would be sillier. This earns only a ‘hmph’ in response and instead of returning to imitating him, you resort to fidgeting with your clothes; wringing your fingers in your shirt, picking at a hem, pulling at your sleeves. Your eyelids begin to droop and the world around you begins to fade to black.

Fade to black until, at least, you feel your pinky finger picked up gently from your lap by pale a forefinger and thumb. Tugging your hand to a loose thread on his shirt sleeve, L gives you a stare you can’t read, a slightly softer but still analytical gaze staring; you’re sure he can see straight through your eyes and into your thoughts. Admittedly, you hope the glaring computer screens do nothing to bring to light the flush you feel rising to your face, and pray that L’s touch does nothing to make how warm your hands had grown in the last two seconds apparent. As prompted, you twist and pull at L’s sleeve. His weird little trick to get you to pay attention worked, because all of a sudden the evidence lain out in front of you seemed a lot more evidential. Consequently, the gap between your seats had become a lot less and where you to lean your head, his ear might brush yours.

06:27

Sleep was a great thing. Usually. This morning it meant an aching back and a sore neck. Although, complaining is avoidable when the ache is because of the awkward position of sleeping with your head leaning entirely on a particular detective’s shoulder. In fact, it’s entirely avoidable when you wake up with a new breakthrough in the case in front of you and dark, sleep hollowed eyes watching your face as you stir awake into a softened reality of the world again. Maybes sleep was a great thing regardless. You could even go as far to say especially great when that sweet coy smile is the one gracing your eyes at such an ungodly hour as the 6am blaring from a digital clock. Well, we know who is staying back to work overtime on the case every night from now on.

— i can’t imagine him having met someone through anything other than work or the Kira case

— so you were definitely in his bizarre little inner circle before there was any shot of romantic feelings involved

— once you kind of tumble into a spiral of romance, it’s pretty straightforward

— and describing it as a spiral of romance may not be the best description, considering that his idea of the epitome of romance is to willingly share a piece of cake with you or make your tea exactly as he watched you make it earlier.

— in the whole relationship, everything is subtle.

— so subtle, in fact, its questionable as to whether you are even officially together

— hes an acts of service type of guy, which is why it all feels very big in small moments

— although he’s good at reading people and can usually tell when something is up, you have to be blunt about any problems you have with your weird situation, communication is everything

— mostly just living in parallel to each other and your lives overlapping and intertwining every so often.

— essentially just being in each other's orbit constantly, occasionally leaning in to what the other was doing and making a small contribution. if either of you is struggling with anything, it's almost guaranteed the other can fill any gaps with fresh eyes instantly

— you kind of work in sync with each other too, like picking up each other's phrases and body language pretty quickly.

—if you ever asked for anything, you would absolutely get it, but mostly, he likes giving you little things that have some level of importance to him. (you now own one of two of his favourite type of cake fork)

— it takes a long time and a lot of patience for any level of intimacy to be regular between you two

— but soon enough its standard to be sitting next to each other with your pinky fingers curled around each other

— you pick up his cleaning habits, not that you weren’t clean before, but you always have hand sanitiser in your pocket now and wash your hands at least 50% more than you used to

— if you end up living together, you both have your own rooms because space is very important, but most nights are sleepovers in each other’s rooms.

— you quite like it though because it means you don’t have to accommodate him writing thoughts he gets mid sleep on the wall of your room

— also, i think canonically he doesn’t sleep for days then has a particularly long sleep.

— you kind of get used to this though, and your sleep schedule does too, but dont expect him to be cuddled up with you every time your eyes close, yk?

— he gets you custom made tracking/emergency devices disguised as accessories (cause bsfr if any of us are self inserting into death note we are having a mean wardrobe) and he makes you ones especially suited to each of your favourite outfits.

— isn’t really the going out type so dates are usually re-consuming media you’ve watched a million times before on the sofa, discussing lore and references and importance of colour schemes in scenes (nothing can be casually watched, its meant to be something to unwind but he simply cannot and so every scene is analysed)

— not that you’re complaining cause you think its so cute when he starts whipping out statistics and random knowledge non stop.

Well, one harmless call turned into two; which turned into helping each other with homework; which turned into late night calls; which turned into night long facetimes. Which turned into a knock at your bedroom window and that’s how you ended up on your bedroom floor with lego sprawled across the floor and a Peter Parker eating your secret snack stash. Not that you can complain, you were too. “Peter,” you started, swallowing a handful of popcorn, “how’d you even get up here?” You watched as his face drew taut and eyes widened. “I- uh just…y’know, the window?” he stammered out. Oh he is so Spiderman.

Eight o’clock turns to nine, nine turns to ten, ten to eleven and each hour that passes is another of telling each other stories and laughing and idling through little bags of lego and comfortable silences splattered with eye tag. And among all that, you find yourself sitting next to Peter, your backs against the bed frame, hands brushing as pieces of a brick R2-D2 are pressed into place.

Much later into the night, when the city lights are dimmed and eyes hang heavy, you feel your room slipping away from you and a delirious stupor fogging your eyes. At some point, your head had lolled into the crook of Peter’s neck, eyelids fighting for you to cherish every moment of this blissful night. “Pete?” you yawn out.

“What is it?” he replied, voice much softer now, turning his head to undo you with those doe eyes.

“Will you stay?”

“Oh, angel, I dunno, I mean- your dad. I want to, just, y’know.”

“Please, Peter?”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.”

You’re not entirely sure if you even answered that out loud or just in that weird mixture of real and dream. You didn’t really care either, you felt safe with your face in his neck, and even if the floor was numbing your bum, it was worth it.

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Jesus, she’s going to be the death of me. If she’s not, Mr Stark will be when he walks in here and finds his daughter asleep on my shoulder. Whatever, death might be worth the twirl in my stomach when she slumps further into me. In case of not dying, I get to live my life knowing I have been privileged enough to hold her. A win or a win, decisions, decisions…

I am pretty obtusely aware of how uncomfortable she must be, so take it upon myself to pick her up into her bed, tucking the sheets over her, only earning a whine and stir in response. She’s beautiful in this moment. I consider her plea for me to stay and decide it’s best I steal one of the cushions from her bed and camp on the floor. She has a really nice carpet, so whatever.

And, despite the back ache I already feel coming on, I don’t think I’ve ever slept this well in all my life.

𝐥𝐦𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬!!

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐕

“Where are you Webster?” you sigh to yourself. This is the third week in a row he’s been late for “shared patrol”. This is also the exact reason all those stupid ship blogs on tumblr are wrong; you would never put up with bullshit like this in a relationship.

snick

“ ‘sup Slinger?”

Bloody hell, this guys irritating. You cringe at the nickname, if it wasn’t for the voice cracks you’d think he was some unemployed 30 year old. Not even gracing his greeting with a response, you pursuit a bicycle robber lurching along on some rusty old thing, swinging down to street level and webbing him to a stop. You strung him up by a web from a street sign and made a swift exit, partially in hopes to escape this patrol spiderboy insists you partake in, not oblivious to the rambling lecture and overkill of webs your comrade fumbles over.

Sitting on the roof of the old banking building, legs swinging over the edge of the crumbling stone, watching people pass by: a daughter on her dad’s shoulders; a couple refusing to part hands at the post; some kids on bikes wheelying along. Just the usual. Your people watching would probably be more enjoyable was there not some rando flipping and flopping about like a loon on a pogo stick behind you. Soon enough, the inevitable happens and he front flips to sit by you. Here we go. Again.

“So, quiet night, huh?”

“Huh, i guess so.”

An awkward silence stretches seconds into minutes.

“Y’know, I think these patrols together are useful, like, not for us, obviously you’re fine on your own, that’s not what I meant, I mean, so am I, but… I’m gonna shut up now.”

His self awareness manages to huff a laugh out of you.

“I get it, Spider-boy.”

“Yep. Okay. You, uh, wanna grab something to eat?”

“Depends what.”

It couldn’t hurt to, maybes he knows a good place, you’re sure somewhere in his ramblings there’s been mention of really good sandwiches.

“I know this sandwich place, a couple blocks over.”

Knew it.

“Sure, I’m down.”

You are very disappointed to be taking the last bite of this delicacy introduced to you, but Spidey finished two minutes ago, and you really don’t want him to hang around later than necessary just for you. Not that he would. Just, if he was.

Shit.

It’s already ten.

“Look, I gotta go, but thanks for the sandwich. It was, uh, it was good.”

“Yeah, anytime. Same time next week?”

“You say that like you aren’t gonna follow me around same time next week regardless.”

“You’re right. Later.”

Sneaking in through your window, silent for no particular reason, you breathe deeply, taking a final breath of liberty before peeling off your suit and grabbing some old pyjamas. Cold air kisses your ankles, you really need a longer pair of these. Padding in to the kitchen of the apartment, you can already smell the hoppy bitterness in the air. Sighing, you grudgingly stomp to the sofa.

“Dad?”

No response.

“Dad. Wake up, you need to go to bed.”

No response.

You shake him awake. “Dad!”

Vomit puddles out of his mouth and onto the cushion.

For fuck’s sake.

— at first he was just some intern you’d seen leaving the building a couple times, a very pretty one at that, but nothing of any significance

— then your dad started talking about “some spider-kid”

— then this intern started becoming more significant, slowly, but surely.

— and it barely required 50% of your common sense and logic to be engaged for you to work out what was going on

— cool. leverage on spider - boy for later.

— leverage for sooner apparently, since he was now leaning uncomfortably on a doorframe, trying to stumble through an awkward conversation with you

— you supposed his awkwardness was sweeter than him being some show-off prick with an ego

— in fact, his awkwardness stuck with you for far longer than you would ever admit

— by that, i mean until the next month where you found yourself in a very similar position, you were fiddling with something in your suite in Berlin, motherboard sprawled across the bed, when a suspicious thud came through the thin wall.

— after five minutes of incomprehensible elation and bumps to the wall, you had finally been provoked to knock the wall, which only earned you a knock on the door less than a minute later

— which is how you ended up in the position of Peter ALSO fiddling with somethings in your suite, PSU being picked apart.

— and imagine how overjoyed Happy was when he found spider- kid and you talking absolute geek bullshit to each other when Peter was supposed to be having a fight with Cap or something

— you definitely got a telling off from Happy later, but whatever, the computer you guys built together was sick.

— even sicker was the atbash cipher left in an open document: gsrh szh yvvm ufm, xzoo nv? accompanied by a number

(this has been fun, call me?)

— well, it would be rude not to.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧??

— any relationship with percy is inevitably slow burn because hes just oblivious to any hints (or thinks you’re out of his league so assumes he’s misinterpreting)

— but post confession it moves quite swiftly

— you’d probably already met sally before you guys got together (you and her lwk team up on him)

— he is absolutely teaching you to skateboard, you gripping his arms as the board wriggles under your feet.

— not your fault when you fall at the cost of his bad explanation of how to ollie.

— your initials are on his board and he lets you pick when he gets new trucks too

— typa guy to flick water at you after washing his hands (which results in a VERY unfair water fight)

— obviously his fatal flaw is loyalty, which means he only has eyes for you, this does not, however, mean others don’t have eyes for him, but eventually you get over the fact everyone fancies your boyfriend

— speaking of loyalty, within a matter of weeks, you are both incredibly secure in your relationship, so i don’t feel like jealousy would be a big issue

— you have both trusted each other with your lives more times than probably normal, so trusting each other with other people is kind of trivial

— kisses you all the time, he just lives for it, but usually kisses just turn into smiling on each other’s lips

— this being said, there’s never a dull moment between you, when you’re together all of a sudden everything has comedic value (even if it means having to make eye contact, look away quickly mid conversation and giggle over what happened later)

— i lied, dull moments are when you have to be apart, not the distance, but how he deals with it. Even if it’s like tops a week, his communication just drops almost completely. He tries to get better at it after the first time you bring it up, but it’s never quite perfect.

— he tries harder for you and his reassurance settles you though, and this bump in the road (catch the reference guys) is smoothed over, especially as you get older and can spend more time together.

— quality time is so so so important to him, so even if you guys go on a date, you’re gonna end up either lying in his bed with ribs sore from laughing and a snoring boyfriend or with makeshift ping pong on his dining table and a smashed vase you’ll have to explain later.

— also i feel like he wouldn’t mind you stealing his clothes because he only has like a few staple items in his rotation, so he’s not exactly complaining when the hoodie he hasnt worn in eight months disappears for a brief period of time and then returns smelling exactly like you

— i feel like hes not a big gift giver, but again, neither of you really mind this because you’re both teenagers still and understand materialism isnt a priority (especially when surviving the school year without losing a limb isn’t guaranteed)

— so when you do get him a gift, its a pretty big box FULL of all kinds of blue food

— also, he would so dance with you, but not in a slow romantic way, it’s more like AC/DC blaring through the apartment and hopping around each other playing air guitars

— you don’t really intend to end up together, like one day you’re fighting dating allegations because you’re “just friends” but then the next day you’re kissing in the armoury.

— this being said, you were definitely friends before you got together

— and at first everyone found it a bit of an unlikely friendship, but then they saw you two lead capture the flag together and EVERYONE understood.

— you kind of used to hate capture the flag but it grew on you because of how much clarisse loves it

— clarisse used to find it difficult to embrace her femininity and so has never seen a need to bother with skincare, makeup and hair care.

— but now she’s older (and has a beautiful girlfriend to teach her) she starts learning.

(or rather lets you do it for her because it would be no fun at all if it wasn’t you standing between her legs with furrowed brows over bronzer placement)

— and it’s not only physically that you have an impact, she definitely becomes more confident in herself with you around

— longggggg hugs

— as an aphrodite kid, you often find yourself with copious amounts of gossip on you hands, and how selfish would it be not to share it?

— once you guys canoed out to the middle of the lake to drop gossip in complete secrecy

— she also has a box under her bed that is just all the little trinkets you get for her

— usually the trinkets are things like handmade beaded bracelets, sample perfumes with little notes attached and things like little sylvanian families that you find.

— if you give her something, it will be kept.

— and best believe she wears a bracelet you made her alllllll the time, it’s something so specifically you that anyone who sees her with it would know

— at first, she would get jealous but after a while it simmers down because she becomes more secure in herself, your relationship and in you

— nose kisses kind of become your thing

— the world would be burned for you, but even that doesn’t seem like a stretch because you are the other half of each other’s souls

— like relationship isnt a strong enough word because you are literally each other’s whole world, imagine the most cooperative idyllic friendship ever and then multiply it by making out and dates

— she gives you the most delicate gifts + really tries hard with them

— on occasion, she’ll make you a handmade gift, like ribbon flowers or a origami piece that folds out to a picture of you two (usually wonky but its still perfect)

— this does not mean she won’t give you weapons as well btw

— future talks are biggggg, like sneaking out to see each other on a night ends up as making out, talking for hours in a secluded spot about kids pets and homes and travelling and not regretting the eye bags in the morning

— being so supportive of each other in anything you do, especially easy since she’s usually excelling

— lwk being an unlikely power couple

— his hands are probably botched, like chewed up nails, calluses, blisters and hangnails

— additionally, his hands especially are dryyyyyy because if you think lotion is even something that circulates in his mind, you are seriously mistaken

— it gets wayyyy worse in winter and his knuckles crack, but he (secretly) thinks it makes him look cool

— this being said, he probably thinks that showering also moisturises him because his skin is getting wet so it cant be dry anymore??

— also he likely only showers when its convenient, like he does not have any sense of routine, bar brushing his teeth after breakfast and dinner (futile considering he usually has a snack before bed anyhow)

— shitty handwriting

— had a weird phase when he was like 13-14 when he tried to be like some gym-bro-protein-12-eggs-for- breakfast

— gave up partly because it was halloween and who was Connor if not THE trick or treater (he functions on sour sweets) and partly because protein powder tainted his ‘flavoursome’ meals

— i think hes probably good at painting nails because like when he pays attention to something fiddly (tripwires) he can absolutely pull it off

— and he would at first steal just plain black/purple/blue nail polish from the aphrodite cabin

— then he saw one of the aphrodite kids with chrome nails and his next heist was mapped out in front of him

— i feel like bootcut jeans as well? like the boy yearnssssss for good fashion but never quite pulls it off how he does in his head

— despite this his clothes are always in a state of disarray or hes just missing an item of clothing

— LOVES summer for this reason because he has an excuse to take off his shirt and thinks the aphrodite girls are giggling over him

—theyre giggling AT him because Travis wrote something stupid on his back in black sharpie

(travis takes this as kudos from them to him)

— gets all freckled in the summer too (arms and all)

— ragebait final boss im not kidding anyone who has spent more than ten minutes with him WILL be able to tell you they have been irritated by him at least once

— he so gives baseball/badminton vibes as well

— both casually and secretly loves taylor swift’s music