#fic: paint my nails

[skyrigel]

Simon who just can't say no to you.

It has been like this from the moment his eyes met yours, a very terrible Monday morning if he hadn't met you but now that you remembered, it's the most beautiful day of both of your lives.

“Is that seat taken ?” Simon looked up at the small morning roused and still sleep laden voice, you were as knackered as you sounded, probably runnin’ on black coffee and cuppa noodles.

“Yeah.” He wasn't even aware how quickly he said it, “Yes, ofcourse miss.”

He scooted his big thighs together, trying to make as much space as possible for you and as if some divine thought struck him, he looked up — cheeks tinting with red.

“Would ya’ like window ?”

“No, But thankyou for asking.” You answered, sitting next to him and making sure to leave some space because those legs were thick and definitely his big cock needed some room.

Fuck, look away —

“Ghost...” Another man climbed inside bus, his eyes trained on you and your partner who's apparently Ghost ?!?!

“Wot ?” He said roughly, his shoulders pressed against yours

“Nothin’ old man.” The other man smirked and sat next to a Grandma who knitted half a sweater.

“Your friend?” You asked.

“ A little...Simon.” He said, “Simon Riley.”

“Oh.” You smiled, feeling blush creep up your neck and cheeks.“I like Ghost better.” you would've booed if you weren't feeling so tingly and nervy.

“You would like Simon more.”

“I would like that.” You couldn't believe you were flirting on a Monday morning.

One month later

“Ghost...” John horribly snorted, sprawling on couch as Simon paid him no attention.

“Wot ?” He asked, giving you his pinky as you painted the last letter ‘Y’ over hot pink nail polish, completing your H-E-L-L-O K-I-T-T-Y nail art, every letter on each nail.

“Nothin’ old man.” John smirked as you clicked your tongue, beaming up at Simon.

“Done !” You blew air and flashed a grin as Simon brought his hand up to examine your work.

“Done Luvie.” He smiled, bumping your nose with ‘I’ on his nail.

And you also liked Simon better.

Grim Reaper! Simon

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[wikiangela]

look ahead up the road, you know I'll see you there (a rockin' chair, little gray in your hair)

written for @bucktommywinterfest

prompt: January 26-February 1: different era (80s, 90s, etc.) and/or painted nails/Uncle Tommy rated: G word count: 2.6k

[read on Ao3]

He walks into Tommy’s- well, now their living room and leans against the doorframe, taking a second to take in the scene in front of him before he disturbs them. Because what he sees is the most adorable sight ever. Tommy is sitting on the floor, both hands splayed flat on top of the coffee table, while Jee is very focused on painting his nails, tongue out and frowning and all. She got a whole set of kid-friendly nail polish for Christmas and apparently she’s taking it everywhere she goes now, including Tommy’s house when they’re babysitting her so that Maddie and Chim can have the whole day and night to themselves – and so she can spend some time with her uncles, of course. “Wow, that’s really good,” he hears Tommy say as Jee finishes a nail. Buck can’t see it that well from afar, but it does seem to at least cover mostly the nail and not the whole finger. “You did a great job.” “Thanks, uncle Tommy.” Jee grins, and then sets out to work on another nail. Warmth spreads in Buck’s heart.

[read on Ao3]

[hballegro]

"It's more than something. It's everything."

s8e11 "Life Time"

painted screenshot. cannot give a time estimate, i lost track long ago. still gouache brush, my beloved, with blur tools to fade edges and so on

i have to go to the zoo now and will be making the version with the clock later [i cannot express how long ive been battling with hawkeye's face, gamers]. background went very fast like i said it would lol

version 2 [as in, w/ clock] will probably be done later today, and i will edit this and add it when that happens [and prolly make a separate post too, for celebration purposes, and will link them]. i will also compile progress pics for that post. they are terrifying early on lmao

"A lot of very touching songs came outta that war" previous painting

"It was pink, and perfect, and I tossed it in the scrap bucket" previous painting

everyone say thank you to bj to being a perfect painting subject today he was very polite and he looks about how i wanted unlike SOME PEOPLE

that was me to my sibling last night, and i stayed up til 1:10ish and still didnt finish the final pass over hawkeye's eye. everything else took like 5ish minutes

also everyone say thank you to margaret and nurse kellye for also being perfect and lovely and pleasant to work with

photo used blatantly stolen from this post thank you again @remyfire i owe you my life

update edit;

clock back

[scribefindegil]

my thoughts on most crossovers are "wow what if all these characters were friends" but I do have a soft spot for the genre of GF crossover art that's "oh, this media has a teenage boy in it? Mabel Pines IS going to have a very earnest one-sided crush on him"

[tayswife]

just thinking about how glinda most definitely forces elphaba to paint her nails all the time. she hates doing them cause she gets all messy and she likes how elphaba does them anyway.

and you know elphie can’t say no her her. like there’s no way glinda wouldn’t ever get her way.

and then she always smudges them cause she gets impatient and then she’s getting yelled at -not really yelled at, elphie can’t truly yell at her- cause elphaba told her a million times to sit down until they’re dry

[odoraful]

sneak peek at my next love & deepspace fic 😳 it's an au where zayne and fem!reader grow up together based on a request ! it's definitely getting up there in terms of word count, but here's a snippet from a moment in highschool:

Zayne never wished to draw attention to himself, but it seemed to follow him regardless. He preferred to keep his head in a book (study book, sketchbook or otherwise), and he sometimes wished his fellow peers would do the same. Instead, he was the choice of conversation among the cohorts for being an enigma. Teenagers were not the most subtle people, and whispers would follow everywhere he walked. He made mental notes of what was being said. After all, those who were quiet were often the most observant.  

“He’s the one who skipped a year right?” No, that isn’t true. 

“One year? I thought it was two!” That would be more accurate. 

“The serious guy with glasses?” At least they know what I look like.

“I heard that he thinks he’s better than everyone.” Now that really isn’t true. 

“No way… is that why he’s a loner?” A loner…?

“Doesn’t he always hang out with that one girl though?”

He stopped spinning his pen around his fingers. Study period was usually the time where people would get updated on the latest news. His focus pulled away from his notes to the conversation happening behind his seat. The irony of the situation was not lost on Zayne, people were quite literally talking about him behind his back. Careful to not signal that he was eavesdropping, Zayne began to write on his page, summarising information from the textbook. Unfortunately, the pair had become more hushed, and he could barely make out what was being said. One word did slip from the conversation, however. Said in a surprised, high-pitched tone: your name. 

“Shh! Not so loud!” One of them scolded. 

Zayne quietly sighed, the breath slipping out between his lips. He got up, making little effort to subdue the sound of the chair’s legs scraping against the floorboards. After packing things away in his bag, he strode past the table behind him, the people seated there already peeking at him leaving. He levelled a look at them as he walked, adjusting his glasses. The students turned further inwards, completely blocking any prying eyes and ears. He casted the interaction aside. It was almost the end of school day anyway, which meant he could finally meet with you. 

[uva124]

What better way to start making animatics than with angst from KOW yay :D! Hope you like

@emillyverse @annymation Even though it's fictional I still feel a little guilty for drawing you guys like that ^^;

I never thought I would draw angst of ourselves lmao

[thestarlightforge]

“COME WITH ME”

[milarepas]

Will and Mike as parents always make sure nothing is missing, but there are some things that can get out of their hands

May was always an energetic baby, excited to run around and talk non-stop, but as she grew up, she began to develop small insecurities, insecurities that she hid from her parents

Mike is a little strict at times, one of the reasons they can get into arguments, but at the end of the day she's still his baby

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Hi!! Congratulations on passing 1,000 followers! I thought, maybe something cool to write about would be...

Ed and Jim talking about their feelings on gender expression/presentation, and Ed realizing they are more similar than he first thought? Maybe post season 2?

This one took a sec to ferment in my brain but when it did. ooooh when it did. Trans people talking about gender is the fuckin BEST.

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 1k word fic!

--

Ed wasn’t even sure why he’d bought the little bottle of nail polish.

The crew had come round to visit for a few days - earlier than they’d expected when they got the letter from Lucius around the start of the spring, so they had to cram them into the two guest rooms they’d been able to finish. Still, Ed had enjoyed showing them around, showing off how the master bedroom was coming along, and the kitchen (Roach promised to help furnish their growing spice rack), and Stede’s garden out front.

They’d treated everyone for lunch at their favorite fish spot down near the docks, then wandered around the market stalls, everyone offering their opinions on potential new pieces of decor for the inn.

And Ed had found the nail polish at a little stall selling cosmetics and medicines and all sorts of little trinkets. It was purple, and sparkly, with little bits of shiny glitter worked into it, and he held the bottle up, admiring how the color turned rich in the sunlight.

“That’s a nice one,” the nice old shopkeeper said. “I’m sure your girlfriend would like it, too.”

He’d winked, and Ed’s stomach had turned, and he’d almost put the bottle back. He knew the shopkeeper was just trying to make a sale, but it just reminded him - it was something Ed shouldn’t want.

He bought the nail polish, tucking it quickly into his pocket before anyone could notice.

Now, here he was, standing in the bedroom and chewing on his bottom lip, unsure what to do with it. He could hide it away, like a shameful little secret, but it would eat away at him. He could put it in the bathroom, but Stede would ask where he’d gotten it, maybe even ask if he wanted to wear it.

Wearing it seemed like a whole other can of worms.

Ed remembered the first, and last, time he’d worn nail polish. He’d painted his nails somewhere between all the poetry, after he came back to the ship alone, before the bad times. And then…yeah. All that had happened, and he was reminded that wasn’t something he got to do. He’d tried to scrape it off with a knife, back then, but he’d given up after he’d nicked his fingers too many times - hadn’t been able to keep his hands steady, for some fucking reason. He’d worn those full-fingered gloves to hide it until it had peeled off.

That was just the way it was, for people like Ed-

“Hey, man.” Jim’s voice in the doorway made Ed jump - they were as quiet as a fucking cat. 

Ed let out an extremely dignified squeak of terror, moving to reflexively hide the bottle and accidentally just tossing it away from him. It landed on the bed, thankfully, instead of shattering on the floor.

“Stede was wondering where you were - dinner’s ready.” Jim, in their infinite mercy, chose not to make fun of him, but their eyes flicked to the bed. “Why are you being so weird about nail polish?”

“Not being weird,” Ed deflected, trying to think of any good excuses for why he was being weird. “I just. Uh. Trying to decide if I want to wear it.”

Jim shrugged, bending to pick it up. They nodded at the color. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Ed mumbled, looking at the floor. 

It was the caginess, maybe, that did it, but Ed could practically feel the second Jim got it.

“Oh,” they said, and then, “look, you don’t have to tell me, it’s no one’s fucking business, but - if you’re like me, then, fuck, I get it.”

“Not exactly like you.” Ed hadn’t realized how nice it would feel, to talk with someone who got it, and the little relieved smile felt good in his mouth. “I’m a man, people just thought I was a girl when I was born.”

“You know, I paint my nails, sometimes,” Jim told him. They sat on the bed, still holding the nail polish, and Ed followed them down, relaxing into the pillows.

“Are you…” Ed took a deep breath. “I’m scared, sometimes, that things like that will make people think I’m not enough of a man.”

“That’s the fuckin’ bitch, isn’t it?” Jim shook their head. “Lucius paints his nails all the time, and he’s fine. But people like us, we have to be so much more careful.”

“Yeah,” Ed nodded. “It’s like some people are just waiting for any chance to tell us we’re not actually who we say we are.”

“Fuckin’ exactly!” Jim thumped his shoulder in agreement. “It’s like, hello, I think I know myself better than you do, and I can paint my nails if I fuckin’ want!”

Ed’s laugh felt light. 

“Hey,” Jim said, passing the nail polish to Ed. “You wanna give it a try?”

Ed let his breath out, slowly. “I don’t know.”

“If you want, I’ll do it with you,” Jim offered. “And if you don’t like it, y’know, alcohol can get it off pretty easy, and we can take it off while it’s still wet. You’re a man, you’ll just be a man wearing nail polish. If other people can do it, why can’t we?”

They sat on the bedroom floor so they wouldn’t get anything on the nice sheets, and they painted each other’s nails. Ed tried to be careful to get Jim’s just right, and they didn’t complain when his hands were still a little shaky.

They were a bit late to dinner, and Ed felt a little awkward as Jim showed off their nail polish to their partners. Archie thought it was a fuckin’ dope color, apparently, but Ed hung back until Jim said “and look at Ed’s! Doesn’t he look fuckin’ cool!”

The round of agreement from the crew as they made him pose so they could all get a good look was more than Ed had expected.

Jim caught his eye over the dinner table. They winked, and Ed winked back.

[nonranghaes]

“gimme your hand.”

without looking up, you do. hyunsuk takes it in his own, looking over your nails as you continue to scroll through social media on your phone. he hums to himself for a moment, reaching out vaguely to the small box of nail polish he’d toted out with him.

he smiles at you, eyes twinkling, “baby?” he drags out the word, always so happy to call you any and every term of endearment under the sun. “what color do you want?”

you look up for a moment with a hum, and shrug. “surprise me.”

he smiles wider, and already reaches for the black bottle of nail polish that matches some of his own. and when he starts to look at his own nails so that the two of you match...

well. you aren’t surprised when he’s proudly taking pictures with your hands side by side, blasting it all over his social media while proudly calling you his baby.

[astrobei]

watching arcane s2 act 1 with haven rn and i do fear that after we watch act 3 together next weekend im going to have to write caitvi fic about it

[nateezfics]

the painted nails….what a man 💅🏻😍

[livelaughlou]

I need a snippet for all pls 🤣❤️

💅📚 and shenanigans

lol, of course, my darling Cia. Previous snippets can be found under 'bookstore AU' and 'nail painting fic' and the shenanigans fic will be, well, 'shenanigans fic' lol.

nail painting fic--which I think I'm tentatively titling 'Life in Color' after the OneRepublic song

"You...like to paint your nails?" Buck asks.

Tommy nods, still looking uncertain. "It's sort of an anxiety thing. When I was younger, I had a terrible habit of biting my fingernails down until they bled. A friend of mine suggested I paint them and...well, it worked. I don't do it too often and obviously, I have to take it off for work. But when my anxiety is really bad and I can, I do."

"When we were together the first time...you never needed to do it then?"

Tommy considers this and then says, "Before that disastrous night, Evan, you were the easiest thing in my life. You made everything better. I just didn't feel the need to. When we broke up, I started doing it again."

Bookstore AU

Tommy smiles and Buck can feel something like butterflies in his stomach.

"Thanks," he says. "What's up with Howie anyway? Usually, he comes by himself."

"He's got a date tonight," Buck says with a little laugh. "With my sister actually, but he didn't want the hold window to be up, so he asked me to come get it."

Tommy looks confused. "That's weird."

Buck frowns. "What is?"

"Oh, it's just...my hold limits are a week. This just became ready yesterday."

Maddie, Tommy and Karen Shenanigans--Kay

This one is a fic for @herrmannhalsteadproduction, for a prompt game we did a little while ago. The prompt Kay sent me actually went really well with an idea that was already floating around in my head. Here's a little snippet.

When he looks back on it, he really does think it all started with that damn letter.

But he now supposes that doesn't matter when Evan is staring at him through the bars, flanked by Hen, Howie, and Athena. Evan looks confused and amused in equal measure, both emotions are warring on his face. Tommy does love his inability to hide what he's feeling at any given time.

"Can someone please explain," Evan says slowly. "Why my husband, friend, and sister are in jail right now?"

[angstigone]

WARNINGS: discussion of toxic masculinity, denji being a teen, implied that reader has anxiety and they paint their nails.

«alrightie, I am all done» you said promptly, setting aside everything on the table and meticulously closing the nail polish bottle «... tell me how you like them».

denji was quick to arch his fingertips as he had seen power do, after the torture that you had made him go through for the past half an hour, by filing his nails, coating them with transparent shit before passing the bright orange.

"it isn't too girly, right?" he had questioned you after he had chosen the color, attentive to your reaction as you good-naturedly shook your head and went to retrieve the bottle "... although it's already bad I allowed you so far".

still, although denji couldn't help but worry he'd be emasculated by wearing nail polish on your existence - "denji, anymore neglect and you'll have paws not hands!" - the result wasn't half bad with the color being bright enough to match his personality.

«I like them!» he promptly screeched, getting up while you urged him to stay seated, grabbing him by the hem of his sweatpants « do you think I'll pick many chicks with it?».

«first you need to let it dry, ladykiller» you ushered him, as he plopped himself down, holding his hand in front of his chest as if it was radioactive «and I am glad you enjoyed it. I do destress by putting on nail polish and as aki isn't around...».

«you pant aki's nails?» the thought startled denji, or better it unsettled him as if the sole notion had him confused «... he lets you?».

«mmh» you nodded lightly as if it was obvious, instead «girlfriend privileges».

«so... if I get a girl, she'll... she'll do this every month?» it hadn't been so bad and maybe he'd have some 'boyfriend privileges'.

«more like each week, as that's normal nail polish and it'll chip within the hour» you said slightly grimly. and not answering his question at all.

«then why do you do them?» your nails were always impeccable and albeit denji had noticed a few chips, you'd have a fresh color by the next day. maybe the toxic fumes from the nail polish had fucked with your brain.

and hayakawa's that allowed you to paint his nails.

«... if they don't last».

«because I like them».

it felt like such a silly reply and denji lightly tilted his head in confusion as if the answer itself felt like a question.

«... panting nails makes me feel good with myself and I think that's all that should matter. whether you are a boy or a girl».

«power isn't either. and I am not human... anymore» denji pointed out on the monster that had been your previous test subject, who sported pretty barbie pink nails and you had had to lock down the nail polishes so she wouldn't paint meowy's nails of the matching color.

«alright, alright. whether you are human or not» you lightly showed your tongue to him which had denji lightly fluster.

still, he couldn't protest anymore as the door opened, signaling that aki was likely off work.

and he could now be the one indulging you, although denji couldn't see how he'd allow you to paint his nails.

he didn't think that he had even seen a speck of color on aki's nails, although they were indeed groomed far more properly than his own; still, they didn't hold a candle to your colorful ones.

«I am home!» that confirmed it as denji did scatter off, a bit still ashamed of being caught with his painted nails by the sole other male member of the hayakawa household, although you cursed out to him to remind him that the nail polish was still fresh.

all of this conversation went back to denji once, after a mission, when aki went to retrieve his pack of smokes, he noticed something on his pinkie finger.

a black stain that got him thinking it might be a weird bruise or something. but upon coming closer he noticed that it had a strange shape.

an heart.

he wanted to tease him lightly, but he couldn't help but think it was cute.

strange on hayakawa, but definitely cute.

and it made him feel even more like he might just need a girlfriend.

[vivitalks]

like a burst of technicolor in a world of black and white

for the prompt "painting nails" on my @jasico-challenges bingo card. guys i am really having fun with this bingo thing have yall heard about this. this shit rules anyway imagine an AU where trials of apollo is a collective hallucination we all experienced and then decided never to speak of again. and instead jason stayed at CHB after the showdown w gaea. okay you are now prepared for the events of this fic xoxo

title from extraordinary magic by ben rector :) read here on ao3

“How come you didn't go to school?”

Fair question, but pretty random.

They're spread out on the floor of Cabin One. When Nico marched in armed with a bottle of nail polish the color of a cloudless sky and insisted on painting Jason's nails, Jason tossed his sketchbook aside. Any activity with Nico is better than drawing shrines alone. 

Nico got to work and they descended into easy silence. Jason figured that was for Nico's focus, so he didn't break it, just allowed his mind to wander aimlessly.

When he tunes back in at Nico's inquiry, he sees two nails painted — left index and middle, coated in light blue. Jason has never had his nails painted. He doesn't know if it's always this soothing, but if it is, he can understand why so many people do it.

“You mean instead of staying at camp year-round?”

Nico nods and takes the brush to Jason's next finger. His face of concentration is extremely cute: narrowed eyes, teeth digging into his lower lip, one rebellious strand of dark hair he keeps blowing out of his face only for it to fall right back in his eyes.

“You could have,” he says. “You’d only have two years before graduation. Could get a diploma.”

Jason shrugs. “Yeah, but why would I? It’s not like I was getting a formal education before. Praetor was a year-round job.”

Nico hums. He's really very good at this. If the demigod thing doesn't pan out, he has a future as a manicurist.

“Plus,” Jason adds gamely, “I don't exactly have a parent or guardian to enroll me anywhere.”

“I'm sure Chiron would be more than happy to falsify some legal documents.”

Jason chuckles. “You think so?”

“Are you kidding?” Nico snorts. “Percy told me Chiron posed as his Latin teacher for a full year when he was younger. He would love to invent a transcript for you.”

Jason gives this a dismissive laugh so they can put the topic to rest. He thought about trying to go to school, for sure. He spent about six minutes seriously considering it. I could have some normalcy, he'd mused. Be a high school kid. Sure, I don't have any surviving mortal parents, or anywhere to live during the school year, or any money, or any previous course credits, or any documents to prove I'm a real person, but. Those are solvable problems.

Then he’d thought, Or I could stay at camp, and the decision made itself.

Maybe it's bleak to say, but there's nothing for him out there. In the real world. He has no memory of being a baby living with Thalia and his mother, and after that, his whole life was the legion. Training with Lupa was the closest thing Jason had to elementary school. Everything that matters to him — his friends, his family, his sworn duty to the minor gods — starts and ends in camp. His youth is tattooed with the brand of Camp Jupiter. His freedom is a leather necklace tied by Camp Half-Blood.

Why leave?

“I'm good here,” is all he says.

Nico isn't ready to drop it. “But then why stay here? You didn't want to go back to Camp Jupiter?”

Jason raises both eyebrows. “Did you want me to?”

“No!” Nico scowls. “I'm just curious.”

Methodical brush strokes turn Jason's fourth fingernail blue. It's a pretty color; Jason wonders what inspired Nico to choose it. It's probably not Nico's first time painting someone's nails, because he's very skillfully managing not to get any polish on Jason's skin. He has good hands for the job — thin and precise. Careful. Deliberate.

“The plan was really to split my time,” Jason says, just as careful, just as deliberate. “I was already at Camp Half-Blood, so I figured I'd spend a little while here, then a while at Camp Jupiter, and, you know, so on.”

“But…it's been two months,” Nico says.

The unspoken question: why haven't you gone back yet?

“Well, yeah,” Jason says. His own stillness is becoming uncomfortable. If he moves, he risks ruining Nico's artwork, but sitting this stationary isn't in his nature. Like most demigods, he has a compulsion to fidget. It's less noticeable in him — less than, say, Leo — but in moments of extreme stagnancy, it doubles down.

“Are you planning to go back at all?”

It's not an interrogation. At least, Jason doesn't think so. It's not small talk, either. Nico is his friend. This is a friendly conversation. There are no wrong answers here.

“Eventually,” Jason says. “To visit. But…to stay?” He shakes his head. “I don't think so.”

“All your friends are there,” Nico says, and he's still looking down, focused on his task, like this statement is a reflex, requiring no thought.

“Not all,” Jason says, watching him. “You're here.”

That gets Nico’s attention. He looks up. “Me?”

“You're my friend,” Jason says.

“Don't tell me you stayed here just for me.” It comes out like a bad joke. Like it couldn't possibly be true.

“Well…” Jason pauses. “I don't know if that's the only reason, but it definitely helped.”

“What? Are you joking?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Because that's—” Nico stops halfway through painting Jason’s little finger. He gestures like words aren't enough. “That's crazy!”

“You just said I should go to Camp Jupiter because my friends are there,” Jason says, puzzled. “Why is it crazy to stay at Camp Half-Blood for the same reason?”

“I’m one person. Friend, singular. Meanwhile your entire cohort of friends is over in California.”

“Yeah, but…” Jason gnaws his cheek. He has this suspicion Nico won't like any of his answers, then decides he doesn't care. “They don't need me over there. I gave my praetorship to Frank, so I'm officially released from leadership duty, and I don't regret it for a second. It makes no difference to the legion if I'm there or not, except as this— I don't know, symbol of greatness that I…really am not.” He grimaces, examining his semi-painted pinky nail, this half-finished, imperfect thing. “Here, I feel like…maybe it matters if I'm here or not. And not because of who my dad is or my rank or anything, just because…well, we're friends.”

Nico stares. Then he lifts Jason's hand and starts painting again, picking up where he left off. With his gaze trained downward, away from Jason's, he says, “It does matter. To me.”

Jason smiles. He gets the same feeling as stepping outside in the morning into perfect weather — pleasantly, comfortably surprised.

“There you go, then,” he says. “I mean, if you want me to leave—”

“No,” Nico says quickly, then glares as if he's mad about being tricked into admitting he wants Jason to stay. Recovering, he snarks, “If you leave, I won’t have anyone to subject to my nail-polish schemes.”

“I bet Will would let you paint his nails.”

“Will wouldn't let me anywhere near him with any kind of artistic implement, as well he shouldn’t. I would absolutely deface him.”

“Honored that you've elected not to deface me.”

Nico turns a rosy shade of pink. “This time.”

This is that other kind of Nico threat, the kind reserved for friends. For Jason. The kind that, underneath, isn't a threat at all, but a promise.

This time means there will be a next time. That's Jason's favorite kind of threat.

“You're weirdly good at this,” Jason says. Nico has finished his left hand by now and moved on to the right. “Since when is this in your skill set?”

“Bianca,” Nico says. Matter-of-fact, without room to grieve. “A couple nights when we were in the Lotus Hotel, she asked me to paint hers. First time I tried, it was such a mess. She did mine to show me how, so I could learn.”

Jason catches his breath. “Clearly it paid off, ‘cause you're killing it.”

This was something Nico did with Bianca. And now he's sharing it with Jason. That gives Jason a feeling in his gut that's both warm and heavy, like a big dog is curled up in there, taking a sunbeam nap.

“You'll have to do mine after,” Nico says, still no-nonsense. “Black, obviously.”

“I don't have any nail polish.”

“I brought some. Lacy gave it to me. From Cabin Ten. Magical, so it doesn't smudge or chip.”

“I didn't even realize nail polish did that.”

“You have a lot to learn.” Nico nods sagely. “That's okay. Everyone starts somewhere.”

“It is very relaxing. I can see the appeal,” Jason admits. He wiggles the fingers of his finished hand, admiring them. “How’d you land on this color, though? Or was it just a random pick?”

 Nico looks strangely at Jason. Some of that blush from earlier returns. “You're…the son of the sky god.”

Jason studies the color. It's not quite sky blue, but close enough. “Huh,” he says, feeling silly for not having made the connection. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Besides,” Nico says, a little quieter like it's not exactly for Jason to hear, but not not for him to hear, either, “it's the color of your eyes.”

That sleeping dog behind Jason's navel starts thumping its tail.

“Oh,” Jason says. He's not sure he could confirm that, but Nico sounds utterly certain. The fact that Nico has spent enough time looking at Jason's eyes that he can pinpoint their exact shade is its own can of worms. For future opening. At a later date. “Well, I like it. It's pretty.”

“Yeah,” Nico says, and his fingers press gently into Jason's palm as he continues to paint. “It is.”