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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

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“Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

Will hums, flicking his focus away from his work for a moment, eyes narrowed.

“If you’re sure. Tell me if you need a break.”

Nico says nothing. When the prick of the suture needle drags through his inflamed, torn skin, pain pushing through the numbing cream, he grits his teeth and stays still. Will notices anyway.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, brushing a gentle finger along his cheek. “Three stitches left, and then we’re done, promise.” He frowns. “It’s gonna scar, though.”

Nico huffs bitterly, careful not to move his face too much, careful to keep his eyes blank and trained forward.

“Whatever. Can’t make me look worse than I already do.”

He bites his tongue, furious with himself. He doesn’t care about a stupid scar. He has more of them than he can count. He doesn’t even count them anymore, doesn’t even bother. Werewolf scratches? Whatever. Monster in the woods leaves a gash on his leg? A little bit of nectar and a bandage, he’s out of the infirmary in an hour, the bandage staying on for even less time. Spattering burns from the lava wall? Not even worth a hummed note from a busy Kayla. He’s a patchwork, and he doesn’t have the time nor freedom to give a shit. This is his life, this is all demigods’ lives.

…He’s never scarred his face before, though.

The hellhound had caught him off guard. He’d been — distracted, stupidly, walking through the wood with his head in the clouds. It had snuck up on him, scratched him from temple to cheek before he could blink. He’s damn lucky he didn’t lose his eye.

The snip of the medical scissors startles him, eyes flicking to Will’s face on reflex. There’s a wrinkle in the space between his eyebrows, tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth. Nico can smell the pungent salve, eucalyptus and lavender and something else he doesn’t recognise. It tickles pleasantly as Will spreads it gently over his red, torn, inflamed skin. He presses a cotton pad to Nico’s eye in silence, guiding his hand to hold it while he wraps it around Nico’s head.

The medic makes a little humming noise as he pulls away, tilting Nico’s head left to right as he inspects his work. Clearly satisfied, he nods, then busies himself with removing his gloves and organizing his suture set. Nico slides off the bed and walks over to the little square mirror on the infirmary wall, next to the nurse’s station. He looks quickly around, checking that the infirmary is empty — except for Will, it is — and then squares himself in front of it, examining himself critically.

It could be worse.

The first thing he notices is how stark the sterile bandage is against his skin. He’s tanned in his time at Camp Half-Blood, obviously, endless sun and walks around camp deepening his skin back to its original shade. His hair has grown out, wavy and fine and framing his face. Freckles dot his nose. His eyes — his eye — is dark, dark, dark brown, iris barely distinguishable from pupil. His cheeks are no longer sunken (were his cheekbones always this high?) and his ears stick out a little.

He looks, to his bewilderment, like Bianca. Without the bandage on his face, and if he grew his hair out a little more, they could be — twins.

“It’s never a good thing to worry what others think,” Will muses, voice floating in the empty air. Nico startles, whirling around to face him. He slides the last sterilized instrument — tiny surgical scissors — into its case, then turns to face Nico, smile soft and eyes like clear sky. “But for what it’s worth, I’ve been crushing on you forever, and I don’t think you’re any less gorgeous. With or without the scar.”

For the split second after Will speaks, Nico’s ears ring like T.V. static. Crush. Forever. Gorgeous.

The rage bubbles up in him so quickly it burns, red-hot, sharp and painful. He recognises half of it as hurt. Another chunk as — confusion, bewilderment, childish fear.

The look on Will’s face strikes him silent before he can open his mouth to seethe.

Nico knows how to read people. He has to. He’d learnt it quickly and he’d learnt it young, because he’d be dead if he didn’t. He knows the averted eyes of insincerity, the bitten-red lips of a liar, the twisting fingers linked with a con-man’s smile.

Will carries none of them.

Apollo’s golden child, he squirms when he lies. Diverts attention when Austin asks him the last time he slept, smiles a guilty smile and changes the subject when the last pack of Twizzlers goes mysteriously missing from the Hermes’ cabin secret stash. His dishonesty is easy to read.

His smile is wide, if a little lopsided, and his too-wide eyes don’t leave Nico’s face. His hands, for once, are still.

Nico swallows.

“Stitches will be out in a week,” Will says, seemingly oblivious to Nico’s gawking. “Bandages changed twice a day. And, Nico, for Olympus’ sake —” his stare turns stern — “do not be a stranger. I’d appreciate your company. Obviously.”

He leaves Nico staring as he damn near sashays out of the Big House, humming to himself.

What in Hades.

———

part two

#wanted to finish this in one go but didn’t manage. oh well #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #will/nico #nico/will #solangelo #pining will solace #idk what else to tag truly #fic #my writing #longpost

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avaetin · 3 months

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(Untitled) AU of an AU

P.S. The thread was getting long, it was difficult to reblog on my phone, so here you go @haiseiscute333.

Also, this is 2k words, which I finished in one sitting, so apparently I'm not burnt out. Just idea and inspiration wise, in regards to my existing works OTL

-----

Break-ups sucked.

At twenty-four, Nico genuinely thought that he was past this stage and on the road of settling down with the love of his life. Well, that was the plan, but the universe obviously had something different in mind. Because after two blissful years of being in a relationship, he and Percy Jackson broke up.

For the record, it was him who broke up with America’s all-time male sweetheart, and not the other way around. Not that that information would ever become public. Just like our relationship, Nico thought bitterly as he stabbed his strawberry parfait with a metal spoon. It was one of the many reasons why they broke up in the first place - he became tired of being Percy’s “mystery partner”. Two years was ample time for Percy to come out to the public regarding his sexuality; Nico highly doubted that the public would persecute their sweetheart for coming out as bisexual. He’s not even coming out as gay, Nico scoffed, stabbing his parfait once more. But no, Percy insisted he needed more time.

To be fair, Nico was fine with that. He was willing to wait for Percy because he genuinely believed that he was the love of his life. They even shared - what Nico considered at the time - a most wonderful and magical summer together as children, for Pete’s sake! Kid Percy even knelt at his feet, professing his love for him, and claimed he would marry him in the future with one of those tacky candy ring pops. Nico wished he could shove it up his ass, along with his many broken promises in the span of two years. But, coming back to the original subject, even Nico had his limits. Percy forgetting his birthday again in their two years of relationship, and going to America’s sweetheart, Annabeth Chase’s, celebratory party was it.

In retrospect, Nico should have ditched his ass a year ago when Percy neither confirmed nor denied to the media of being in a relationship with Annabeth. Or maybe, when he forgot Nico’s birthday because he was busy shooting a film. Or maybe, when he forgot their anniversary because he was booked for photoshoots and interviews. But, for once, Nico had been stupid, just because this was his childhood sweetheart. He really should’ve known better.

Now, here he was, dressed in disguise in ‘Elysium’ - his (secretly) favorite hole-in-the-wall dessert bar - stabbing the poor strawberry parfait in his hand as he wallowed in self-pity. Did he cry over Percy? Of course, he did! But not for the reasons anyone might assume. That fucker made him waste two of his precious years on him, of course he would cry over the time he lost! This, stabbing a parfait, was just part of his self-healing. Tomorrow, he will be a better person. He’d be the industry’s charming darling, as he had been for years. But for now, he just wanted to be human without the paparazzi’s eyes on him.

“If you stab that any harder, the glass will break.” A soft voice interrupted his thoughts, making him pause mid-stab. Scoffing, and with a retort on the tip of his tongue, Nico raised his head to glare at whoever was addressing him, only for him to visibly pause, suddenly at a loss for words as he gazed directly into the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. And that was saying a lot, since there were a lot of genuinely good-looking guys surrounding Nico on a daily basis.

The man before him was either a businessman or a lawyer, or somewhere along those lines. He was dressed for the part, and he exuded an imposing amount of confidence to be the part. He possessed a lean physique, his body adorned by a pristine gray suit that surprisingly complimented his wavy yet artistically messy platinum white hair. But in Nico’s opinion, what was most striking about him was the color of his eyes - those gorgeous emerald green eyes that seemed to glisten under the dim lights, especially so when the man offered him the most pleasant smile he had ever seen on anyone.

There was, however, only one flaw: the man before him looked almost like the carbon copy of Percy Jackson.

“Do you mind if I join you?” The man politely asked, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite of Nico. “I won’t stay long.”

If Nico’s mind wasn’t malfunctioning, perhaps he would have questioned why this gorgeous man decided to sit with him when there were a lot of empty tables and chairs in the nearly empty establishment. But, at that moment, all he could do was nod his head robotically, his traitorous heart doing somersaults in his chest as the smile on the man’s lips widened and brightened in response. Almost immediately, as soon as the man sat down, a steaming cup of coffee and a glass of strawberry parfait was placed in front of him by one of the servers who, just as quickly, made themselves scarce.

“Here.” The man pushed the strawberry parfait towards Nico’s direction, much to the latter’s confusion. “That-” The man gestured with a tilt of his head towards the then unappetising-looking parfait in between them which Nico had been brutalizing seconds ago. “-can’t possibly be appetizing. Please, take a fresh one. My treat.”

Russet-brown eyes narrowed in response, logic and reason slowly starting to return to Nico. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good with the one I ordered.”

For some reason, the man looked disappointed at his refusal but nodded in understanding. “I see. I won’t force you. But, rest assured, it had nothing in it.” As if to make a point, the man scooped a little bit of everything on his spoon, his eyes never leaving Nico’s as he slipped it into his mouth, his lips wrapping around the utensil.

This man should be illegal, was Nico’s questionable thought, as he watched the movement of the man’s throat, his own swallowing in tandem unbeknownst to him. Emerald green eyes sparked with amusement and delight at his response which Nico failed to notice in his moment of (apparent) weakness.

“So, what brings you to this hole-in-the-wall establishment?” The man casually inquired, pushing aside the dessert in favor of drinking his coffee. He carefully took a sip, his eyes slipping close for a brief moment as he savored its exquisite flavor.

“I could ask the same thing,” Nico countered, still cautious. “What’s a… businessman or a lawyer doing in a place like this?”

“Both, actually,” the man answered, lowering his cup. “To answer your question, I actually own this dessert bar. One of my many ventures.”

“A failed one?” Nico blurted out without thinking, slapping a hand over his mouth a second later due to his slip.

Surprisingly, the man laughed. “Is that what you believe? Success is… subjective. As long as the Nico di Angelo continues to patronize my humble establishment, I don’t see it as a failure.”

At the mention of his name, Nico stiffened in his seat, his eyes widening in alarm. The spoon slipped from his hand, landing on the table with a soft thump.

“What…? How did you…? How long…?” Nico couldn’t finish his statements. He should’ve bluffed, denied the man’s statement, something, but he was certain that it was futile to lie in front of his person. But how did this person figure out his identity? His disguise had always been impeccable. Even the paparazzi had yet to capture any images of him in disguise, only what Nico intended for them to gather.

“I’ve known since the moment you stepped inside all those years ago,” the man admitted, taking another slow sip from his cup. “But, as with any establishments that I own, it is my policy to give any of our patrons utmost privacy. As for how I know…”

Those gorgeous eyes stared intently at Nico once more, as if he was searching for something. It was only for a second, but Nico saw sadness in them when the man, presumably, didn’t find what he was looking for.

“I would recognize those beautiful brown eyes anywhere,” the man finished, his lips curling to a small smile while Nico’s cheeks reddened at the compliment. “You’re rather famous in this establishment, if you must know. But not for the reasons you’re thinking of. You’re… notorious for visiting whenever you’re in a horrible mood, taking out your anger on the food,” the man stated, gesturing towards Nico’s recent victim. “The staff actually sent me over, just to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself, in case you break the glass.”

“I-I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” Nico said, embarrassed. It won’t happen again, because he mentally decided to never come here again, for the sake of preserving his dignity, or whatever remains of it.

“It’s fine, Mr. di Angelo,” the man said in reassurance. “I’m glad that you can find comfort here. Besides, this place is still running despite being a ‘failed venture’ because of you. If you stopped visiting…”

The man trailed off, but Nico could connect the dots. Great. Suddenly, he had a bunch of stranger’s employment in his conscience.

“Since you know me, I think it’s fair that I should know you as well,” Nico said, picking up his spoon from the table. Since the dessert was mostly liquid at this point, he simply stirred the ingredients inside the glass, combining them together.

“You do. You should…” the man murmured absent-mindedly, but with the clanking of the spoon against the glass, it was lost on Nico. Fixing a smile on his face, the man introduced himself. “I’m Aeon Oceanus. Just Aeon is fine.”

“Oh,” Nico blinked. “Not… Not Jackson…?”

To Nico, it seemed that he had said the wrong thing as those gorgeous eyes suddenly hardened marginally, a slight coldness to them.

“You’re wondering if I’m related to Percy Jackson.” It was a statement, not a question. Guiltily, Nico lowered his eyes to the table as Aeon sighed softly. “It’s fine. I get that question a lot. Perseus, that brat, he’s my younger twin brother. He took our mother’s maiden name since he ‘doesn’t want the family name to buy his position in the industry’,” Aeon explained. “Forgive me but I don’t really like talking about that child. It’s not as if we’re on the best terms either.”

Nico could tell. He had never heard Percy talk about an older sibling, let alone a twin. Then again, they… never had a lot of opportunities to talk. They couldn’t meet too much since that would spark rumors of them dating, which as true as they were, Percy didn’t want to be involved in. And when they did meet, it was only because their work schedules coincide or they were working on the same project.

Was I even in a relationship? Nico wondered, downing half of the parfait-turned-smoothie in one go. Thinking about it, they were more committed to their relationship towards their work than each other. Perhaps, that was why Percy couldn’t come out, Nico had to consider. Perhaps, in Percy’s head, Nico wasn’t offering him enough support as a partner for him to feel safe to come out.

Aeon quietly observed the many emotions that flitted across the younger male’s expression. He might not be on good terms with Percy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of the… events in his brother’s life.

“I should get going,” Aeon announced all of a sudden, rising from his seat. He fixed a polite smile on his face as he turned to address the young celebrity, handing him his business card. “It was a pleasure to have your company, regardless of how brief it was. If you need anything, please feel free to contact me.”

“Legal reasons? Or business reasons?” Nico asked.

“Anything,” Aeon said. Nico wasn’t fully aware of the weight of his words, but he soon will. “I have matters I need to attend to, but please feel free to stay for as long as you like. It’s on the house.”

“It’s fine, no worries,” Nico refused immediately, shaking his head. “I can pay for myself.”

There was a playful twinkle of Aeon’s eyes as he leaned down, the suddenness of the gesture surprising Nico who could only stare at the older male in stunned silence as the gap between their faces gradually became less and less. Nico barely registered the man’s thumb brushing lightly against the edge of his lips as his sense of smell was suddenly assaulted by the man’s pleasant cologne.

“This is enough payment,” Aeon said, showing his thumb towards Nico, who took a few seconds to compose himself and process what was on the other’s thumb. Belated, he realized with embarrassment that it was a small amount of cream. Before Nico could offer a tissue or a towel to wipe it down, Aeon brought it close to his lips, a pink tongue swiping gently across the pad of his finger. His eyes never left the younger male all this time, his gaze burning… something… pleasant in Nico.

“I’ll see you soon, Mr. di Angelo,” Aeon said, his words sounding like a promise as he bid his goodbye, leaving the flustered celebrity behind, clutching tightly yet preciously onto the business card left in his hands.

#aeon (pjo)#nico di angelo #nion #pjo #percy jackson #i don't know what to tag this yet

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fiapartridge · 5 months

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catching fire au | jack hughes ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

-> AU TIMELINE !

the first part of the au takes place during the 2021 draft. she's living in vancouver, ca. she's 18 years old.

after getting drafted to the devils (round 1, pick 32), she goes to play hockey for umich -- she meets luke there!!

riley and luke become best friends, bond over being devils, and they end up signing their elcs together in 2023

the second part of the au takes place in 2023 -- riley's rookie season (she's 20 years old)

-> IMPORTANT INFO !

jack hates her immediately. tbh, he hated her when he first heard her name get called during the draft. he thought it was absurd that the devils drafted a girl.

lindy places them on the same line.

+ once she joins the team, everything is off. jack is particularly mean to her: never passing her the puck, smashing her into the boards, stealing the puck from her, never inviting her to team meetups, and always talking bad about her.

but riley hates jack just as much as he hates her -- maybe even more

nico treats riley like a little sister, always trying to protect her, always getting on jack for being mean to her, and always fighting anyone that lays a hand on her during games

she's best friends with all of the wags; they're her best friends (other than luke) when she's there

jack was the star player before riley joined, but once she's on the team, all eyes are on her. sponsorships are begging to take her, the media loves her, the crowds are filled with jerseys of the devils' golden girl. jack was old news.

-> RILEY DELL !

red wavy hair, freckles, tall

top prospect

18 years old when drafted

her birthday is july 24, 2003

born in vancouver, canada

gets drafted to the devils

round 1, pick 32

right wing for the new jersey devils

her number: 5

joins 2 years after getting drafted (played at umich for two years w/ luke + they signed their elcs together)

besties w/ luke

20 years old during her rookie season

lives in the same apartment complex as the hughes brothers (literally like down the hall)

-> JACK HUGHES !

the devils' star player. round 1, pick 1 of the 2019 draft

he's 22 during riley's rookie season

his birthday is may 14, 2001

center for the new jersey devils

riley dell's #1 hater !!

-> IMAGINES !

the draft

the underdog

devils' golden girl

author's note: send in ideas for the au if u have any!! kay love u ! cant wait to write more! <3333

#catching fire au #jack hughes x hockey!player #jack hughes #jack hughes au #jack hughes x reader

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putting-it-into-parc · 25 days

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red (soy lago - part 3)

masterlist

part 1 // part 2

lando x carlos (carlando)

summary: Old feelings die hard. Do they die harder than a bad crash at Spa? warning(s): angst, mild description of non-lifethreatening injury a/n: shoutout to every sad reader of Soy lago and All this, just to say goodbye - this one's for you :') this was inspired by lando's real crash at Spa, but takes place after melbourne 2024 in universe.

At Spa, Lando sees red.

He sees it in the rim of the soft tyres his pit crew all but rips off his car, as the rain transforms from a mist to a drizzle to a steady downpour. He sees it in the Ferrari struggling in his rearview mirrors, an unlikely sight for the usually dominant car. He sees it in the flag the stewards wave during Q3 as a bolt of plasma splits the sky in half. And he sees it in the flash of balaclava that gets hurled to the floor in anger. Carlos never made it out of Q2.

Lando sticks his hand in his pocket, making sure the precious cargo inside has remained dry. Luckily, the fireproofs seem also to be relatively waterproof. He inhales deeply, lets the air rush out through his nostrils. Weaves his way through the paddock.

Oscar is fully unconscious, curled up like a cat on a bench in the garage, hood pulled over his wavy hair. Lando can’t help but smile at the sleepy young driver as he walks past McLaren to the red Ferrari garage. It’s all too much for little Oscar Piastri, a voice in his head sings.

Carlos gesticulates wildly to a race marshal, the tops of his cheeks flushed. His lower jaw juts out angrily, his eyes narrowed. It’s rare for the cool-headed driver to lose his temper, but Lando remembers the crevice that opens between his dark eyebrows well. He saw it after Ferrari gave him some truly dogwater strategy calls in Monaco last year. He saw it when Pierre shoved him after the Canadian qualis. And who could forget, hardly a year ago, being interviewed about that five-second penalty in Melbourne?

Lando figures it’s about him getting knocked out in Q2. A crazy idea floats into his mind.

No, he tells himself firmly. No more offering to go on a walk. You’re over this.

Less than ten paces away, Carlos is hilariously juxtaposed by Charles spread horizontally out over an armchair, legs dangling off an armest like a little kid, smirking as he undoubtedly texts some new romantic conquest on his phone.

Lando moves on.

Pierre is inexplicably in the AlphaTauri (Lando refuses to call it Visa Cash App Red Bull) motorhome, wielding a black tray of...ew, where did he get sushi? Lando wrinkles his nose in disgust as he gracefully picks up a piece of dark red fish with a pair of chopsticks and feeds it to Yuki.

“Just so you know,” he hears Pierre say, “if you’re not hungry anymore I’m finishing the rest of it.”

“Okay!” Yuki chirps happily.

Pierre’s fond chuckles fade away as Lando passes Haas—where Kevin and Nico are busy dribbling a football between their ankles—and makes a beeline for Williams. Of course George is loitering around, because Alex is there. Their heads are bent together conspiratorially over Alex’s phone. George giggles like a schoolgirl, tucks a nonexistent strand of hair behind his ear. Blushes. What a fool.

“Mates,” Lando calls out.

George and Alex shoot apart, eyes darting frantically from side to side. Lando rolls his own. It could not be more obvious if they carried around a neon sign that said “WE’RE MADLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER BUT REFUSE TO SAY IT OUT LOUD”.

“Hey Lando,” Alex says casually. “Any word on when they’re letting us back out?”

“Aw, mate,” George teases, “seeing as you’re not even in Q3, I should think it doesn’t even mat—ouch!” His jab is interrupted by Alex elbowing him between his ribs. George snatches Alex’s hat from his head in retaliation, placing it atop his dirty blond waves.

Lando fights back the sudden urge to vomit at their saccharine affection. “Er, no.”

“Carlos is giving the stewards an earful,” George narrows his deep blue eyes. The dark fringe of his lashes almost touch. “I overheard him talking about how it’s dangerous, how they should postpone Q3.”

This is news to Lando. He’d assumed Carlos was angry about his quali result.

Alex chuckles. “Who died and made Carlos the weather police?”

“Sorry, gotta go,” Lando says hurriedly, brushing past them out of Williams. George waves him off, his other arm stretching out oh-so-casually behind Alex’s slim waist.

The thing was, every once in a while, Carlos just got feelings. Eerily accurate ones. Lando remembered Silverstone in 2022 all too well—Carlos had joked to Danny that he should avoid George because he got the feeling he’d be extra menacing that day. Not that Danny had taken him entirely to heart, but if he’d pushed from the get go, it might’ve been the former McLaren hurtling over the tyre barrier instead of Zhou...

The McLaren garage comes into view when someone grabs his forearm. Lando whirls around, comes face to face with a pair of slightly manic brown eyes. The tall collar of a red racing suit.

“Carlos—”

“Lando,” Carlos says in a low voice. “I need you to be...careful.”

“Huh?” Lando asks, perplexed.

Carlos gestures to the rain, which has lightened considerably. “The marshals, they are starting up Q3 again. I don’t like that.”

Lando squints up at the gray clouds. It didn’t seem like the rain was going to get any worse. He was probably off the mark on this one. “Ooookay, Carlos. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious, Lando,” Carlos insists. Lando is taken aback by the urgency in his voice. “I just...I just have a bad feeling about this.”

Will’s radio bleats in his ear. “Lando, ten minutes to start, ten minutes, please come back to the garage as soon as you can.”

“I gotta go back,” he mutters to Carlos, and the other driver’s grip on his arm reluctantly slackens.

“Be careful,” Carlos pleads once again, finally letting him go.

Lando hurries back to the garage, shaking his head as if that would help clear his jumbled thoughts. I’m sure he was like this to everyone. To Charles. I know he begged him to be careful, too. We’re all friends now, remember?

But as Lando pulls his helmet on, watching Oscar frown up at the darkened sky, he can’t help but wonder if the desperation in Carlos’ voice was meant just for him. As he pulls forward slowly for the out lap, he sees Carlos pacing around, and when they make eye contact, the Spaniard’s face is stricken.

He can’t help but imagine Carlos fretting over him, and only him, and he smiles.

Lando hasn’t even finished his out lap when the rain starts to come down in sheets again. “It’s definitely wet,” he tells his race engineer.

“Should be good, Lando, should be good for one hot lap for those tyres.”

No way. But what can he do?

He feels the car lose control at La Source. Just enough to scare him.

“I dunno, it’s almost too wet. Some aquaplaning. Quite a bit of aquaplaning.”

“Okay, understood.”

Lando squints down Eau Rouge. Red Water. Sure enough, the rain has made the creek below the track swell, mixed with clay. He sees red.

“The rain will continue for...six more minutes,” he hears as the car aquaplanes again.

Lando hurtles down the straight with no control at all.

He closes his eyes, braces himself for impact.

A sickening crunch, and his car spins out, only after what seems like an eternity coming to a stop.

“Lando, are you okay?” Will sounds through the radio.

Lando figures he has about fifteen seconds before the damage kicks in. His fingers scrabble for the radio button on his wheel. Oh god. His hands are shaking so badly that he misses it the first time.

“Lando, are you okay?” The question is now tinged with panic.

He hits the button.

“Yeh—” Lando ekes out—“all good.”

Then, before he can turn the radio off, the pain slams into him like a truck. He groans into the mic, thinking he wouldn’t be all that surprised if all his bones had shattered with the impact of the crash.

“Can you get out of the car?” Will demands.

Mate, I can hardly lift my neck, Lando retorts silently. But he wills himself to get it together, feebly attempts to hoist himself to a standing position. No, wait, the wheel. He tries to unscrew the wheel and place it on the chassis. The twisting motion of his arms makes his chest feel like it’s erupting into flames. And it was getting steadily harder to breathe. What was happening?

He hates this. Hates that it might all end here, just like this. He wonders if Carlos saw him crash, and desperately prays he hadn’t witnessed it. Lando doesn’t want this to be his last memory of him.

Soy lago, Carlitos. Chili. I’m sorry. His fingers find the piece of soft, worn paper in his pocket. He closes his fist tightly around the paper airplane.

Lando tries his best to breathe. He knows it’s a losing battle.

He vaguely registers people shouting at each other—paramedics, he hopes. A fluorescent green ambulance, lights blazing. Two sets of hands grasp him under his armpits and haul him out of the car. His chest hurts so badly, his vision’s starting to white out at the edges.

“Ah—ow,” he hears his own voice say, and then everything—finally—goes mercifully dark.

When he opens his eyes, Lando sees someone standing in the doorway, clothed in red.

Right. The crash. He wonders whether he’d died, and some version of Carlos was waiting to take him up to heaven. He smiles, and feels a searing pain across his dry, cracking lips. Dammit. He probably wouldn’t have chapped lips if he really was dead.

“Thank god Lando, you’re awake,” the scarlet-clad driver says...in a French accent. Lando’s heart sinks.

Charles winds his way through the army of IV poles, wires, and monitors surrounding the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Lando takes a mental inventory of his battered body. He recalls his chest being on fire, which had now reduced to a dull ache. He pushes the covers down, revealing several ugly bruises encircling his ribcage. And, to his mild horror, a tube draining right out of his chest.

Morphine, he decides, is truly God’s gift to mankind.

Charles winces when he sees the chest tube. “They said one of your lungs collapsed. Your broken ribs...they punctured it.”

“Lovely,” Lando mutters.

“All that matters is that you’re okay, mate,” Charles sighs. “You will be okay.”

He pulls out a crumpled ball of paper from his pocket. Lando stares at the remains of Carlos’ note, now from five whole years ago...

Charles, noticing his recognition, places it gently on his bedside table.

“You were holding onto it so tightly...even when you were passed out.” He closes his eyes. “No one knew what it was, until Carlos—” Lando shudders reflexively at the name—“came by and found it.”

His green eyes bore holes into Lando’s blue ones.

“Carlos was scared to death,” Charles adds quietly. “He was doing an interview, and he saw your car spin, and the reporter told him it was you. He didn’t finish his sentence, let alone the interview—he went silent. If you saw the look on his face...” He shakes his head, as if doing so would erase the memory. “He heard you on radio and he looked...he looked like he wished he was in the car instead.”

Lando swallows hard. “Is he—is he here?”

“No. He’s back at Ferrari.”

He nods. It’s probably for the best.

“Thanks for coming by, Charles.”

Charles pats him gently on the shoulder and leaves. Lando gingerly reaches for the crumpled paper plane, unfolds it.

The ink is blurred from the rain and sweat and drops of maroon—which used to be bright red—bloom on it, but Lando doesn’t need to read it to know what it used to say.

He wishes, even though he shouldn’t, that he could have one more walk with Carlos.

“Landito,” comes a soft voice through the darkness.

Lando squints, because he would know that voice anywhere. His heart starts pounding, reflected in the frenzied symphony his monitors begin to emit.

“Carlos?”

“Sí.” Carlos emerges from the darkened hallway.

It’s past midnight, at least. Lando had heard the nurse murmuring to herself as she took down his vitals. “You’re not supposed to be here, I think...”

“I know. I snuck in. It was on purpose.”

Carlos snuck into the hospital? For Lando?

“Can I come in?” Carlos asks. Lando waves him into the room, grimacing at the pain shooting through his shoulder with the motion.

He wonders whether morphine can make someone hallucinate, and looks lovingly at the line connected to the crook of his arm, wondering if he could swindle a nurse into giving him some more tomorrow.

Then Lando becomes aware of Carlos standing by his bed, giving him a very strange look indeed. He clears his throat.

“Um. Hi.”

Carlos kneels beside him. Lando is suddenly conspicuous of how exposed he is, the bandages, the bruises, that damn tube…

“Lando,” Carlos says, hoarsely. “I should’ve said something. Done something.”

He feels completely bewildered. “What? Carlos, you couldn’t have—there’s no way you could’ve known—“

“But there was,” whispers Carlos morosely. “I’ve aquaplaned at that corner before, I tried to tell the stewards it wasn’t safe…I didn’t try hard enough…”

He gently traces the bruises on Lando’s ribs. Lando’s not entirely sure, but he swears he sees Carlos’ eyes well up.

Then he remembers Carlos glaring, all but going hand to hand with the stewards, and laughs.

“Oh, Carlitos,” he says, breathlessly, “you always know the damnest things.”

Carlos looks utterly baffled at Lando’s laughing.

“I have very little left to lose,” he says slowly, frowning. “But the one thing I will not...is you.”

“Carlos?” Lando’s voice trembles. He’s not laughing anymore.

“Hmm?"

“I’m sorry. About everything.”

He feels Carlos’ warm hand take his, and give him a squeeze. “There is no I’m sorry, my muppet friend.”

“Then?”

Lando can see the dim lights of the monitors reflected in Carlos’ huge, glassy brown eyes. Overflowing with warmth. Tenderness. Maybe even love.

Carlos reaches into his pocket, slowly produces a piece of folded cardstock. It’s red. Lando’s eyes widen as he takes in the pointy nose, the crisp wings. An airplane. Completely dissimilar from the hastily constructed, ripped-from-a-random-engineer’s-legal-pad one Lando had been toting around for so long.

He presses it into Lando’s palm. “I guess it was time for a new one.”

Then he leans over, and brushes Lando’s forehead with the barest whisper of his lips, leaving Lando dizzy, overwhelmed.

“Goodnight, Landito,” he breathes before he disappears, as if he was little more than a dream.

Lando unfolds the little plane with quaking fingers.

This time, six words greet him, written in gorgeous script. Slow. Intentional. Utterly deliberate.

There is only...I love you.

Soy lago, Lando thinks as a tear snakes its way down his cheek.

But this time…for all of the right reasons.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fluff #lando norris #carlos sainz #carlando #ln4 x cs55 #cs55 #ln4 #ferrari #carlos sainz x lando norris

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zegrasdrysdale · 5 months

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eternal summer au universe masterlist

last updated : december 16th, 2023 4:11 pm

KEY : ❀ = fluff | ✧ = angst | ♡ = smut / nsfw

blurbs / drabbles

coming soon

fics

coming soon

social media fics

lift off [ ❀ ]

about oc - Emilia Marie Larson

age 22

nickname(s) : mia, em

long, wavy brown hair and green eyes

originally from Sweden, moved to the US at 12 and moved to Newark at 20 - can speak fluent Swedish

attends New York University full time

a senior majoring in sports management

meets Nico the summer between her junior and senior year when she goes to Switzerland for the summer with one of her friends from NYU

#hockey imagines #nhl imagines #hockey au #nhl au #nico hischier #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier smut #nico hischier angst #nico hischier au #alternate universe

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dapperenby13 · 1 year

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Some recent Nico sketches

He’s so fun to draw and I love accenting him with sickly green

#my art #fanart #nico di angelo #pjo hoo toa #riordanverse #nico pjo #autistic nico di angelo #headphones #freckles #scars #ponytail #wavy hair nico #curly hair nico #Italian nose

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maristocratie · 1 year

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Some of my PJO/HOO + Magnus Chase headcanons

I apologize in advance for the spelling mistakes, English is not my mother tongue, I will try to do my best !

Enjoy the reading :)

Camp :

There is a winter version of the camp t-shirts for the kids who stay all year long which is an orange fleece, it is not possible that these kids are all year long in t-shirt + this fleece is a big oversized grandpa fleece

Percy :

Percy has a collection of ugly T-shirts from the gift shops of the small towns they passed through during all their quests

Annabeth :

Annabeth has a completely collapsible mug that she can slip into her bag when she goes to work for hours at the University Library in New Rome on her architectural projects. She has several of them in different colors for different drinks and she never puts tea in the coffee cup etc... because the cup takes on the taste and smell of a drink and when you drink another drink in that cup it tastes like the usual drink (it’s so specific sorry)

same when she makes a tea or coffee in their uni apartment she has a cup for each drink

Nico :

Nico has NO accent when he speaks English

Luke :

When Luke was younger he was certainly one of the oldest at camp and was like a big brother to many campers in addition to Annabeth

It happened very often that he read/tell stories to the little ones, put bandages during the trainings if the injuries did not require going to the infirmary and that he animated a lot of workshops as the one of the beads painting

He also animated the campfire in the evening and the singalongs but that was before he became a big jerk (to stay polite)

In Chiron's office there is still a box with the things Luke didn't take with him when he betrayed the camp that should have been returned to May but it was never done

Thalia :

Thalia has big feet I can’t explain why

She told Luke about Jason and he promised her that they would find him one day

She was extremely blonde when she was little

Jason :

Jason somehow knows how to play the piano.

He´s well versed in history and art history and knows a lot of random facts

At some point he has discovered contact lenses and wears them regularly when he’s doing physical activities

When he and his sister are side by side they look much more alike physically than one might think at first glance, they have the same facial expressions

Jason has small freckles on his face and shoulders that stand out in the summer even though you can see them in the winter when you are close to his face

Leo:

Leo can for sure play the drums

Frank :

Frank didn't become super thin or anything when he grew up, he stayed sturdy from the shoulders, which goes with his morphology

Will :

Will wears crocs or similar in the infirmary because he has to stand all day and can't afford to have sore feet + when he's not in the infirmary I think he wears Birkenstocks because they are more comfortable than the flip flops he wears in the books. Will = comfort shoes king

Very often during his night shift will wears the famous fleece because he’s rather cold and he wants to feel comfortable after a long day

He knows a lot about botany thanks to the medicinal plants but also because he has many plants in his bungalow and he has even placed some in a corner of the infirmary

He even has several books on plants that he reads during his breaks, big books that are a bit old and with lots of diagrams and illustrations

He has a helix piercing on his right ear and it's a gold ring

Piper :

Piper has a lot of ear piercings and she has a lot of cool jewelry. She is often asked where she found them. A big part of them are made partly by herself

Travis & Connor :

The stoll brothers are tall and skinny like not muscular just extra skinny legends. Connor is taller than Travis even though Travis is older

Connor has really curly hair while Travis' is more wavy

Magnus :

Magnus is so left-handed that he barely uses his right hand

It's canon that he's tall but I consider him taller than Jason and therefore Percy. He must be a good 6'1" minimum

He smells like head&shoulders and neutrogena intense hydration comfort balm Norwegian formula (very precise almost too precise)

not really an headcanon but I think we forget too quickly and too often that Magnus is extremely intelligent because of his looks and his natural embarrassment. And it infuriates me that he is taken for a fool.

Also, we often forget that he is an excellent pickpocket and that he and the Stoll brothers would literally be a molotov cocktail if they joined forces...

Hope you liked it !

#headcanon #percy jackson #annabeth chase #luke castellan #thalia grace #jason grace #leo valdez #piper mclean #magnus chase #travis stoll #connor stoll #will solace #nico di angelo #pjo headcanon #hoo headcanon #frank zhang

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itsmmatchaa · 3 months

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YAO MEI

will this anger ever dissapear?

♱˙⁠SEX: yes (bro can shapeshift so biology doesn't apply to him)

♱˙SPECIES: fallen angel

♱˙NAME: Yao Mei (妖媚) — yāo mèi, it means seductive/bewitching ; (angel name: Azazel)

♱˙NICKNAMES: yao yao, boss/big boss (by Nico)

♱˙OCCUPATIONS: indie singer, like to hide his face when he plays music at some pubs or sing covers in the internet/currently the owner of a cozy but known cafeteria (he does his best to scare away his costumers but somehow more and more come to see him, so he just goes with the flow)

♱˙AGE: ??

♱˙BIRTHDAY: has no day of birth so he choose the day that he decided to live like a human: 11th november

♱˙HOMETOWN: heaven (literally)

♱˙HEIGHT: 198cm

♱˙APPEARENCE:

♱˙EYECOLOR: dirty gray, his eyes are like a eternal thunderous sky. they are sharp and thin, very much like a blade

♱˙HAIR: kinda wavy, almost straight raven black hair, neck length with blonde strands on his nape, reminiscent of his angelic features

♱˙SKINCOLOR: Yao Mei has a nude skin, a bit yellowish? Has a eternal golden glow on his skin, he is a fallen angel after all (no he doesn't glow like Edward unfortunately)

♱˙BODYINFO: man is ripped, he's Niccolo's numero uno gym buddy (and the only that can go with Nico's crazy schedule and exercises without dying). Yao Mei has broad shoulders and strong arms from his training with swords by the time he was in heaven and probably has something to do with the drums he play? Yes. Has guitar player hands and veiny arms. He has a tongue piercing, a erl piercing (the one that goes through your nose bridge), lip piercing and pierced ears

♱˙ABOUT YAO MEI:

“I had another name before”

he was an Archangel, a warrior of god. highly respected amoung his peers in heaven for his serious and diligent nature until the celestial war took place. when he was still an angel, he received the name Azazel. he greatly admired Lucifer and was close to him, so when Lucifer fell, he went directly to confront God and asked: what happened? why did that happen? why him? And when he was not received, quite the contrary, he had been rejected, he decided to go after Lucifer alone.

Lucifer was smart and knew very well that Azazel had a desire, an urge to free himself. and taking advantage of the trust of the very devoted Archangel, he started to put ideas in his mind, planting seeds of doubt, twisting words into a winding path with no return, taking advantage of his good heart. Lucifer convinced Azazel to transform into a snake and tempt Eve

“Don’t you think it’s wrong, Azazel? The way they hide things from the humans?” Said the one who was once God's golden child, his brightest light.

And Azazel noded, of course, who would disagree?

“You could do that for me, couldn’t you?” Lucifer questioned again, scraping his wings on the ground and closer to Azazel

The Archangel replied, with a smile, oh poor innocent child

“But of course, for you, I would.”

And he did

if you think Lucifer was the one turning into a snake and making Eve taste the fruit of forbidden knowledge, you are mistaken. It was Azazel. And you think it was Eve biting the fruit? no my dear, it was Adam, but who would belive poor Eve? Why your think man have "Adam's apple" stuck on his throat? thank Azazel for that endless curse. And the favors for Lucifer didn't stop there, but he felt like he was doing something great for the first time in his existence. Azazel felt like a little pet, a lapdog, when he was in the heavens, he knew that they and other angels could be doing more to guide humanity, Azazel had the desire to help humanity, so he constantly took human or animal form to walk around among mortals and help them in some way.

He has a very good heart although he appears to be apathetic. and I felt that just raising faults in the courts of God was too much for him. The more he walked among humans he saw how miserable they became and saw that no being in the heavens did anything. He was tired, he couldn't take it anymore, and in front of everyone in the heavens, he rebelled.

“I can’t stand being bossed around by anyone anymore. I think I've always had that in me, that place is suffocating. Paradise is suffocating.”

It was not long before the once respected archangel was cast out, falling with many others, and raising his sword against the heavens in the war that once split the heavens.

What Azazel didn't expect was that when he joined Lucifer, the one he admired most, the one he believed, the one he trusted; he would in the end receive the same treatment as he had in heaven. He had already fulfilled his purpose, now he was nothing more than disposable to Lucifer. He followed Lucifer because he was tired of being God's pet and in the end he became Lucifer's pet.

His rebellion was of no use.

In the end, all he was left with was the unfortunate nickname of snake, the venom of god, his sword and his wings. These were the only things that had been left for the angel once respected in heaven. this was Azazel. The angel previously charged with the task of raising human faults and enumerating them before the Divine Court, during the annual judgment of humanity now limited to Lucifer's pet. The snake, the scapegoat, the poison of God, Azazel. The title that Lucifer gave him "the prince of Wrath" served more as a mock than a gift.

“I wanted too much, I think. I just wanted to do something for my own will, not His, I wanted my freedom. Look what it brought me.”

Azazel rebelled once again, without looking back.

♱˙PERSONALITY: a good person. He genuinely is. However he was so heartbroken before, so shattered that he cannot stand being around people anymore, he cannot stand the betrayal, the disappointment that would come with that. At the same time he is oh so, so desperate to be loved, to love, to be given and to give in. He is a reliable and responsible one, he cares for people around him. He knows how ephemeral and fast a human life and even moments and time itself can be, he has seen so many times before, dripping through his fingers both lives and time.

He's most serious, doesn't talk much and just hums or lift his eyebrows as a way of saying yes or no, call him emo if you like (that's what he is, this fucking emo). Can appear as cold and sarcastic, and sometimes he can be a little bit theatrical. He's the type: as-long-you-don't-annoy-me-I-won't-kill-you type of person. He's not the type to laugh, he can scoff a laugh and smirk, but a full laugh? Nah.

Values his independency more than anything and is not the type to get involved in conflict HOWEVER, if it's something that really piss him off, my god you better start praying, for real, it's not afraid to throw punches or buy a fight that its not his, he's collected but has a heart different from the other angels.

Even if he seems collected and calm, his mind is a eternal turmoil. He is the original prince of wrath after all. His calm personally comes from many years of self discipline and control. Even so, it doesn't matter how much he push away, how much he meditate, how much he tries to vent with music and singing. He still has anger in his head, his heart still ache. He's not a holy being anymore, anything is better than going back to heaven. He's not a demon either. What is he? Is he now deemed to be pure anger? To haunt the world with his pitiful existence?

♱˙LIKES: his peace, the smell of coffee and after rain, the sound of the cafe bell when someone go past the door, the rustle of paper bags when he prepare a to-go snack, the rumble of the milk blender, low bass, jazz, cold breeze, black cats and dobermans. He really enjoy cooking, most of the pastries and breads on the cafe are made by him. Loves to sing, probably is a angel thing. Black beer, and black coffee. Also likes his crucifix that he carries proudly around his neck, he do enjoy to go on church and hear the choir, probable because it scratch his brain and make his relax a bit. He's fond of paganism and often lit incenses around the cafe to whoever god or deity feels like listening to him he doesn't pray too, he's too proud to ask for forgiveness or help.

♱˙DISLIKES: the bible, however unlike Niccolo that has a disgust with the bible and churches in general, Yao Mei likes to read the bible out loud and proceed to say: "nu-uh that wasn't what happened, look at this they made me seem like I'm a fool". Hate any kind of form of betrayal, so yep if he ever hear someone on the cafe talking about being cheated he'll probably going to beat someone ass that night. It's not very much found of default vodka? Like, the no flavoured one. Hates when the cafe gets too crowded or when there's too much kids inside, specially if they're the noisy ones. He doesn't like much kids by the way, it reminds him of the times he was a guardian angel (he hated taking care of toddlers). Hates hospitals with burning passion. He claim to hate Niccolo but he know deep in his heart that Nicco is his bestie, either he like it or not, also he hates when Niccolo don't wash the dishes after he eat. Doesn't like to pray, since it bring him bad memories but it's often to see him speaking alone to himself, specially when he feels alone. He'll never admit it but he's grateful for Niccolo's noisy ass and personality, Yao Mei would be in a way bad state of mind if wasn't for him.

♱˙TRIVIA:

his name was supposed to be Mei Yao and he had a red skin

he was my second oc not related with an existing universe like anime or whatever (first was Ghostien), i wanted to draw a demon and just made him out of nowhere, i still have the sketch of him

he choose his name because it was the first thing he heard after he fell from heaven

dislikes people (me too) but his cafe is well known around town not only because of the good ambiance and music, but because the barista and the owner are very attractive

plays guitar, bass, drums, anything, it is music a angel thing? Yes

think that cats are nice, and im thinking about giving him a hairless black cat with sum very edgy but silly name like edgylord or graveyard idk

his holy weapon is a sword

The crucifix he wear was a gift. Is used to hurt and burn his skin but he got used to it, it's like a eternal reminder of his origin and also a mocking to the heavens

He also is always with two bracelets, one in each wrists, he always wore bracelets on his angel form so it's kind of a bad habit of his, same thing with the crucifix, used to hurt and burn since it was holy silver

Yes he was the snake that lured Eve and Adam. But different from what we hear, I like to think that Adam was the one who bit first and lied that was Eve, and that was the first betrayal, so Yao Mei cursed all mankind to always carry Adam's apple in their throat because of that lie

Lucifer named him as the Prince of Wrath, so he is the original Sin of Wrath

His voice when he sing sounds like Vessel

@itsmmatchaa ; don't copy, rp, translate, or use as your own ; last edited: feb/2024

#oc x reader #monster oc #oc #monster oc x reader #falleng angel #angel #angel oc #fallen angel oc #angel x reader #fallen angel x reader #nephilim

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nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx · 2 months

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I was bored

I was lying in bed trying to read, I didn't particularly enjoy reading in English but Annabeth and Percy had been helping me and I didn't want that to go to waste. Then Annabeth walked in through the half open door, holding a pair of scissors.

"Finally someone to put me out of my misery." I mutter putting the book down,

"Nope, but I will be bringing that up to your therapist. I think it's time for a haircut Nico." She said smiling like a maniac,

"Oh fuck no." I say running past her and out the front door. My hair was in a braid down my back; I ran as fast as I could but I knew Annabeth was faster than me. I saw her chasing me, I could probably shadow travel away but when her minds set to something it's very hard to get her to give up. I honestly didn't care too much but why not add a bit of excitement into this. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

"I'm bored."

"Go find someone else to annoy."

"Don't think I will Neeks." I flipped her off and continued running, she grabbed my wrist. I shadow traveled to the edge of the forest and ran towards the center, I was hoping to throw her off but she spotted me pretty quickly and ran after me. I should have been able to stay away with the lead I had but the shadow travel tired me out and Annie's fast. I was about to shadow travel away again, "You do realise if you pass out you can do whatever I want right?"

"Fuck you."

"Save that for Will." I blushed hard before shadow traveling back to my cabin, I knew I wouldn't be able to run properly after that, but I got away for a bit. "You aren't getting away that easy, Angel boy." She said walking through the door, I was honestly too tired to do anything.

"Fine, you win. But please don't fuck up too badly."

"You have such little faith in me, I'm offended."

"We both know that that is very reasonable."

"Shut up di Angelo." She quite literally pulled me into a chair and started brushing out my hair. "When's the last time you even cut it?"

"Like a month ago I think? Will cuts the ends, it terrifys him so it's always entertaining as fuck."

"You're a terrible person Nico." Annabeth laughed

"I am fully aware; what are you doing to my hair anyways?"

"I think it's time for a change."

"Oh no.... PLEASE don't dye my hair, I am never doing that shit again."

"Don't worry... but you are getting an undercut." I paused for a couple of seconds,

"Now you see the concept, I have no problem with but the thought of you doing that...."

"Oh shut up I can actually be accurate."

"Fine, I trust you." Annabeth sectioned my hair into two parts plaiting them separately, one around the bottom and edges, one on top.

"You ready?"

"I really don't care, honestly I just wanted to make this hard for you."

"Of course you did." The daughter of Athena said while cutting off the bottom braid before buzzing the now short hair, she threw the braid in front of me. "Well that was a lot of hair."

"No shit." I laughed before hitting Annabeth lightly in the shoulder, she started taking out the rest of my hair that was in a braid and brushing it out again.

"What do you think Will's gonna say?"

"He's not going to give a fuck let's be honest with ourselves."

"You seem so certain on that."

"He didn't care when I got twenty tattoo in one day, I mean he was concerned and gave me a bunch of pain killers and kept me in the infirmary for a day but that's unrelated. I doubt he's going to give two fucks about a haircut."

"I am not going to ask why you got twenty tattoos in one day." Annabeth started cutting the rest of my wavy, thick, black hair to just around my shoulders, layering it before adding some bangs, that were long enough for me to put behind my ears. "So thoughts?"

"I'd love to give them but there isn't a mirror here."

"That's irrelevant, I want to see Will's reaction."

"That's the whole reason you did this wasn't it?"

"Naaa, I was just really fucking bored." I laughed as I ran my fingers through my hair, it was so much shorter than I had, had it in years but was kind of nice. Honestly I also really wanted to see what Will would say, I didn't think he'd be judgemental or anything. But the thoughts always had to cross my mind, all the 'what ifs?' I push them out of my mind and tell Annabeth to wait for a minute so I can wash and properly do my hair. It took about a quarter of the time it used to but still that moment of time made me think of every possible reaction for Will to have, I decided to leave my hair out as we walk to the Apollo cabin. I knocked of the door and unsurprisingly Will answered it, he saw me and kind of froze, a bit shocked.

"So what do you think?" I muttered, Will pulled me closer to him and sunk into a kiss, he tasted like strawberries. He ran his fingers through my hair; he was warm always, smelling like rubbing alcohol mixed with roses and a sweet scent I could never really place. I wrapped my arms around his neck standing on my tiptoes to reach him, grabbing the ends of Will's short, curly, blonde hair. As we broke the kiss he leaned down and whispered,

"You look amazing my Angel." I blushed and that is when we realised Annabeth was recording the whole thing and was running off to cabin one to show Jason.

------------

Not a helpless chapter (sorry about that, the next chapters long and I haven't had time to write)

Pls give advice cuz I don't think the plot makes sense.

I don't know if I really like this ficlet, I started it in the middle of writing the Ariel chapter because I hated writing it so much I needed something to write that wasn't helpless.

I don't really like it but I feel like might as well post it.

I have a Angel Dust ficlet that I wrote a few weeks ago so comment if u want to see it

You will be getting Harry Potter, specifically marauders shit soon because I have far too many wolfstar ideas that I want to write that I haven't.

If you read my Wattpad stuff I promise I'll try to update Not All Hero's Have Happy Endings and if anyone wants (don't know who's reading it at this point cuz I've barely started) Mischief Managed, I was actually very excited when I started it but I think the style might change a lot cuz I started that like two years ago.

If you have any fandoms u want fics for I will try to write some, just comment.

The mystery in my mind is taking over, maybe the time is up. I will always be there with you, I promise I'll always be there.

Love,

-Siri

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