there are a billion other productive things to do
Allright I have nothing better to do than angst and wait for a phone call, so let's do a meme that I'm hoping will distract me.
Gimmie characters/pairing, and the first line, and I'll write you some kind of ficlet-y thing.
Gimmie characters/pairing, and the first line, and I'll write you some kind of ficlet-y thing.
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"When did this become a 'thing'?"
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She has her back turned to Nico when he asks it, and her back stiffens at the amusement in his tone. No matter that she'd sort of been wondering the same thing herself.
"I don't know," she finally answers thoughtfully, twisting a wet cloth around the bristles of her paintbrush, trying to clean it off. "When you started sleeping in our guest house? When you started mooching lunches off of me? And sucking up to my dad at family dinners?"
When she turns around to look at him there's an alarmed look on Nico's face. He gestures to the sculpture in front of him. "I meant this. It was a mess of popsicle sticks and clay yesterday."
Her stomach bottoms out, and Rachel instantly feels heat flood her face. "Oh. Um."
Nico puts down the palate that he'd been fiddling with. His eyes are dark and unreadable. "Now what about your father?"
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A true friend never gets in your way unless you happen to be going down. ~ Arnold H. Glasow
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Ed reminded himself that best-laid plans really worked out the way he wanted them to.
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"What in the world ever possessed you to use this... this... what is this?!"
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"Togas are hot okay? Just deal with it." Percy's hoping his tone is successfully coming off as playful, not defensive, and, judging by the smile that twists across Annabeth's face, he thinks he's accomplished just that.
He thinks, based on his memories of her, that she must be very overwhelmed; by the new camp, by the enormity of the task facing them, by seeing him again after such a long separation. Her eyes, exactly how he's remembered them, calculating and sharp, have taken everything in, but what she's mostly focused on in conversation, to his chagrin, is the fact that he greeted her in a purple toga.
She doesn't mind the toga, he's reasonably sure. He can tell that she's tired and anxious, and this is the first time they've been alone since he kissed her goodnight all those months ago, and she's scared to find out if the toga is the only thing that's different about him or if it's so much more than that.
"Well I'll admit that I've never been partial to them before," Annabeth says softly, and there's an ( ... )
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What's up with the abandoned house in the woods?
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