#just because her brother was a dumbass

[beyondbirthdayzzz]

I really feel bad for her cause she went from the sweetest character of the show to the most beautiful (and still sweet) to the most traumatized character for no reason

[salsflore]

⠀

[ladymelisande]

Me after spending four days of nice peace while 1899 was not so popular in this cursed hellsite and starting seeing the 'Eyk is Maura's brother' in the tag theories taken seriously because they think Daniel is the end because he said so: Oh, yes. Time to disappear and never touch this fandom again before the dumb kills me.

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

Y’ALL ARE GONNA MAKE ME SOB LIKE A BABY ALL OVER AGAIN

[imjustlaughingalong]

Maybe I'm misinterpreting or just being silly, but like...it very much feels like my father is making an earnest effort (whether he admits or not) to replace every aspect of his previous marriage and consequently family with this new woman and the "childless carefree bachelor" life he "deserves"

[yourknightinshiningplastic]

made a joke the other day in dollar tree and my mom got all. like she does about jokes. basically one of them has pride stuff and my mom was wondering why and I said "maybe they're homophobic idk" and she said "well they can't do that it's discrimination".

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

[astonmartinii]

insta au req about reader and charles being best friends and a rift comes between them because of his girlfriend(or whoever!!) and reader and max finally get together and she shades ferrari and charles purrrrr (if not i totally get it queen love u loads)

into the arms of another | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

after charles leaves her out in the cold, y/n falls into the arms of another.

part two part three

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, arthurleclerc and 506,823 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: dumb and dumber: vacation edition

view all comments

user1: they're really just the definition of no thoughts behind the eyes

user2: it's crazy cause we all know you have to be smart to drive an f1 car and she has a literal degree in architecture but they are always in the most insane situations ever

charles_leclerc: that's my private jet don't call me dumb

yourusername: *rented, dumbass

liked by maxverstappen1

user3: they're friendship goals like perfect example of platonic soulmates and male and female friendship

arthurleclerc: so like what does a man need to do for a feature on your instagram?

yourusername: soz arth, step ur aesthetic up x

user4: oh to be besties with an f1 driver

user5: wait so like all the leclercs and their gfs went on this holiday, right?

user6: yeah arthur’s and lorenzo’s gfs have posted about being there

user5: so it’s kinda muggy that y/n refused to post the girls?

user6: not really she’s posted with the girls loads i think y’all just want an excuse to be mad at her

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,231,907 others

charles_leclerc: summer spent with the best people

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user8: no y/n ....

user9: did yall see that tweet about the girl who met y/n in corsica when charles left her stranded on the beach to walk home on her own

user8: what ???

joristrouche: love you brother

charles_leclerc: best mate

user10: the vibes have shifted, the atmosphere is weird and the absence of y/n is the centre of it

user11: i fear i've seen this film before and y/n is defo getting iced out because charles in back in a relationship

user12: noooooo i thought he'd matured past that after the last time he fucked y/n off for a girlfriend

user13: babes please stop expecting so much from men

liked by yourusername

pierregasly: you look sunburnt calmar, did you leave it at home cause y/n isn't there to remind you?

charles_leclerc: she's here and i have been putting it on the sun just has it out for me

yourusername: i tried pierre, believe me

user14: well this is fucking awkward

user15: charles is not beating the allegations of forgetting about y/n while in a relationship LOL

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,034,667 others

maxverstappen1: simply lovely to win my home race again. the orange army never disappoint and i'm so thankful for all the support here this weekend

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user20: call me a conspiracy theorist BUT he thanked the orange army and the support separately i.e. Y/N Y/LN

user21: now you bitches usually jump to conclusions, but i'm hearing you this time

martingarrix: next set just gonna be super max on a two hour loop

maxverstappen1: i'll be there

user22: i'm sorry i'm new here why is y/n being in max's garage such a big deal? who is she? (gen.)

user23: y/n is charles' best friend, they've known each other since childhood and she's supported him through all levels of karting and single-seaters. though they haven't interacted too much in the public eye, max and y/n have known each other for as long as charles and max have. charles is a bit notorious for dumping y/n to the side for his girlfirend any time he's in a relationship and being inseparable once he's single again. after he ALLEGEDLY ditched her at a beach in corsica over the summer, y/n hasn't been seen with him or interacting with him online and was then in max's garage.

user24: maybe i'm messy but i genuinely want max and y/n to be together

yourusername: the red bull catering was defo worth breaking the cost cap

maxverstappen1: you're welcome any time

user25: can someone please check charles' pulse

landonorris: he looked like a cartoon with steam coming out of his ears earlier

user26: LANDO WHAT?

user27: tbf i think that's just a general side effect of driving the ferrari

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 542,987 others

yourusername: hard ball or soft serve

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user28: in my professional shadow identification opinion, i have deduced that it is in fact max verstappen

user29: ur so delusional (i believe you)

charles_leclerc: so that's who you've been getting our vanilla and chocolate cones with

yourusername: i'm not entertaining this argument over the internet charles you know where i live

liked by maxverstappen1

user30: she's so much better than me i'd rip him a new asshole right here right now

arthurleclerc: please come to dinner on sunday, carla can't come and i don't wanna fifth wheel plsssssss y/n

yourusername: sorry chickie i've already got plans but give mama my love

arthurleclerc: noooooo what could be better than mama's sunday lunch

yourusername: i promise i love those dinners but i've had enough experience seventh wheeling you guys and would love time with someone who loves me for me

liked by maxverstappen1

user31: yall i feel like i'm in the family group chat in this comment section this feels illegal to see

user32: max is so sly with the comments he's liking but that's MY petty king

f1

liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,304,783 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc

f1: oops. charles leclerc takes championship leader max verstappen and himself out of the race at the first corner. the two did not mince their words, verstappen saying: "i tried to stay out of trouble but trouble came to me"

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user33: the way i RAN to twitter

user34: i'm not a verstappen fan but that quote goes so hard

user35: i'm all for leaving the drivers' personal lives alone but lord the tea is piping and sky cutting to y/n in max's garage? OOP

user36: no cause someone at sky has been watchign too much drive to survive because putting "charles' childhood friend" on her name banner as she's in max's garage was pure cinema

user37: charles be chatting mad shit for the man at fault

user38: leclerc drove into verstappen and perez and thought he'd manage to get out of the blame again LOL he's such a joker

user39: i think it's a good thing that y/n is skipping that dinner

user40: the way charles' gf wasn't even there this weekend and he was clearly looking for y/n in the garage

user41: the drama is too much for me to keep up with

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 603,487 others

yourusername: only 16 years in the making but we finally got a clue

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user42: i'm going into cardiac arrest

maxverstappen1: finally now i can comment freely about my unbelievably sexy, smart and hilarious girlfriend who i love and defo haven't pined over for ten years

yourusername: awwwww maxy, if it makes you feel better i've liked you for that long as well

user43: hmmmm idk this all seems a bit fake

yourusername: babes i still fancied him when he was a lanky, spotty teenager

arthurleclerc: i can confirm this

user44: the way y/n was always so nice and constantly hyping charles and his gf in their comments ... where's charles

user45: tbf she is dating his rival

user44: oh please we all know they never hated each other and have been good friends for years, charles is just being petty

danielricciardo: never thought i'd see the day when max would grow some balls and finally ask you out

yourusername: i thought you were meant to be some great wing man, i didn't see you helping

danielricciardo: i didn't want to get ran over by charles, no thank you

user46: i'm so sad i want bestie charles and y/n back

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, martingarrix and 1,409,875 others

maxverstappen1: some girls might want to ride a ferrari but mine wants to ride a red bull

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user47: THE CAPTION? THIS MAN IS SO UNHINGED

user48: mad max returns and in the form of shady instagram captions

yourusername: but you didn't even let me drive :(

maxverstappen1: babe i love you but you don't have a license and that's a very expensive car

user49: wait don't make me depressed didn't charles say in an interview ages ago that he was going to teach y/n to drive? did this never happen?

yourusername: sorry to ruin your day but i'm still illegal on the road

landonorris: so no photo credits? i watched you guys kiss for so long to get that shot

yourusername: i didn't hear you complaining on the day

maxverstappen1: let him be lonely in peace

landonorris: that's really not the save you think it is but thanks mate

user50: i am so happy that y/n is happy but the way charles can't be happy for her relationship like she always is for me is so sad to me

user51: i get that the charles and y/n situ is sad but she's clearly happy with max leave them be

fin.

note: hope you enjoyed my love, i hope this was kinda what you were envisioning, i'm happy with it but would be up for a part two if people want it lol xx

[evilminji]

Oh... Oh No(TM) :Dc

You know how occasionally? Ra's has to get dunked to rehydrate in that good, good Youth Soup? And probably comes out looking Damningly Fine AF, as a chisled warrior man in his late to mid 20s?

........okay, so HEAR ME OUT.....

You ever date a Hot Passionate Bad Boy, that you KNOW is probably bad for you? Because he is REALLY charismatic? Remembers all the important dates and details. Has Hot Blooded roof top sword fights and dramatic cliff side brawls, with you? Talks like the most Dramatic! Nerd! You have? Ever Heard! *mysterious musical sting by full orchestra*

Swishy cape?

VERY Impressive muscles.

But so High Drama that even you, "Commit To The Bit" Danny, of the Good and Noble House "WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE!?" Fenton, find him... occasionally A Bit Much(tm)?

Just? A REALLY Bad Idea in attractively form fighting luxury wear.

You get too fight ninjas.

..........Danny's not SAYING he gave into his worst Dumbass Thirst Impulses... but, uhhh, he's also? Not NOT saying it?

And it's becoming a problem.

Cause apparently their whole family is CLINGLY (Bruce, in the background of the call: No. REALLY? You DONT SAY?) when they decide they've found The One. And he was unaware of the Murder Cult. Yes! He KNOWS! Should have asked where the ninjas came from! But in his defense...

Hot man, no shirt-y, Danny brain go Dumb and Drools.

He had a fancy sword and wanted to fight, Jazz.

Danny was FLUSTERED!

He refuses to be Mrs. Cult Leader, Jazz! You dealt with hot bad boy Exs! What does he do!?

And just? Jazz? So... so tired. Dear lord, she thought Dani was bad. But no. No Dani came by her... EVERYTHING, honestly, didn't she? It's genetic. It has to be. Danny what the FUCK? When she said "you should get out more and see the workd" this is NOT WHAT SHE MEANT!

Danny? Is not really feeling the helpful vibes here, Jazz. Fine. He'll hunt down Talia. She'll help him! Surely SHE won't want him to be her new step-dad! Hmmmph! *click*

And THAT! Is how the Bats meet their new Son/Brother-in-Law, Danny. Jazz's baby brother.

@hdgnj @nerdpoe @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

[starkeyisthelastname]

stepbro!rafe jealous of reader and her bf at the christmas party.. then following her upstairs and fucking her while everyone else is out there

I went a little overboard. 🥴 this is very dirty. You’ve been warned

Rafe had no idea what you saw in that bozo, Chad. He was a kook who was perfect in the eyes of Ward and your mother. Attending Chapel Hill, excellent grades, a gentleman, gave back to the community. All things he was not or had given up due to his addiction to coke or constant disappointment from his father. The problem was that Chad didn’t know you like he did. He watched with squinted blue eyes as you giggled at something the douche had said. You two stood by the glittering Christmas tree as Sarah took a picture of the two of you.

The mini Burberry skirt you wore that barely covered your ass, had his cock straining against the khaki pants he wore. The fact that, that asshole got to be by your side all a night during this party had his blood boiling. He downed the amber liquid in his glass as he watched you tell Sarah that you had forgotten something upstairs. With the party busy, he easily followed you up the immaculate staircase towards your room.

Humming a Christmas song, you skipped over to the decorated pink Christmas tree in the corner of your room. Bending down, you picked up the gift you had forgotten only to hear the door shut and lock behind you. You turned around to see Rafe, eyes almost black as his jaw tensed while he looked at you. “You are quite the good little actress aren’t you.” He cracked out, voice low. “Your perfect little boyfriend has no idea that the same lips that kissed him tonight were wrapped around my cock this morning does he?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the memory of sucking your step-brother’s cock in the shower that morning. It was more than wrong. Not only because you had a boyfriend but hello because he was your step-brother. Your step-brother who had a dick that was made for you. You began to stutter out something when his tall frame stalked towards you, hand gripping your throat. “You are gonna lay here and take my dick while your dumbass boyfriend looks for you downstairs.”

He shoved you onto your perfectly made bed, ring adored hand ripping the $340.00 designer tights. The red jeweled thong you wore was torn off, while his hand that was on your neck came down to release his monster from the confinement of his Calvin Klein’s. He pulled you closer, one leg resting on his broad shoulder while the other was bent back towards your chest. “Gimme your phone.” He demanded.

You didn’t even have time to ask why when he grabbed it from where it sat on one of your furry pillows. He unlocked it, the familiar ding of taking a video making your head perk up. “Rafe- what are you do-..” You were cut off by him slamming in all nine inches into your slick cunt, making you let out a gasp instead. Your phone getting a closeup view of your step-brother’s cock sliding in and out of your leaking pussy.

“Shit- look at that my man Chad. Look at the mess your girlfriend is making on my dick.” Rafe chuckled as the camera captured the sounds of your squelching pussy. His thrusts sped up at at a pace, you knew only Rafe could make happen. Whimpers and whines being the only sounds you could make out, as he bruised your cervix. You knew exactly what he was doing. Taking a video to send to the same boyfriend you were just taking pictures with.

“Tell him that you are taking your step-brother’s dick like a good slut.” The older boy spit out, his free hand gripping your hair to make you look directly at the camera. You couldn’t find words, looking completely cock drunk, despite your makeup still being flawless. Your breath began to shallow as you could already feel your orgasm coming strong.

“Tell him or I’ll fucking spot right now.”

You shuttered, your hands gripping the fluffy duvet while you looked at the camera. “No- please don’t daddy.” You cry out, Rafe’s favorite nickname making him want to blow right there. “I’m taking my step-brother’s dick like a good slut.” Your climax hitting hard as you squirted all over Rafe’s NorthFace fleece.

Your thighs shook as you came down from your high, collapsing onto the bed and listening to the sounds above you.

“Open your fucking mouth.” Rafe grunted, pulling out quickly as he aimed his seed on your tongue, your pretty face accidentally getting covered in it as more unexpectedly shoots out.

The video was sent to Chad with the caption underneath reading.

Merry Christmas.

[myangelscrimson]

I NEED TO PLAY BIOSHOCK INFINITE

[pixeljade]

Laios/Kabru is such a funny ship to me because there's precisely ZERO chance Laios is interested in a non-monster romantically or sexually, but also, he's absolutely got the exact balance of "wanting to please those around him" and "having no clue what constitutes human romance/friendship" that Kabru could be like "Hey I have decided I'm OBSESSED with you and DO YOU WANT TO MAKE OUT???" and Laios would probably have a thought process like "Huh. Is making out normal for best friends slash royal advisor and king? I dont actually know! But I trust Kabru and I want him to like me so...sure!" And this could slowly and steadily escalate to a full relationship while Laios is just sitting there like "Haha we're besties. :) such good friends!!" And eventually Kabru mentions casually that they're dating and Laios has a short crisis about it, before realizing that it doesnt matter too much and he enjoys spending time with Kabru even if theres not actual attraction beyond platonic on his end, and Laios just. Decides SURE I guess we're dating haha!

Meanwhile from Kabru's perspective, each step of the way, he's overanalyzing every fucking interaction. He gets one-word answers from Laios sometimes and spends days agonizing over it only to find out that Laios was just distracted rotating different monsters in his empty head, and didnt mean anything by it. Both of them are so utterly clueless in such completely different ways and they'd LOOK like just a regular couple to most onlookers but anyone who knows them even a little would know the MASSIVE WELL OF TENSION underneath the surface. I imagine that Kabru ends up going to Marcille & Falin's place to drink and ask for advice quite often, which mostly turns out as Marcille saying "MY BROTHER-IN-LAW IS A DUMBASS WHY DO YOU EVEN LIKE HIM STOP COMING HERE I WANT TO GET BACK TO SMOOCHING FALIN" and Falin giggling and being like "You're doing fine sweetie :)" knowing her brother is absolutely going to go with the flow straight into marriage with this nerd who once wanted to murder them

[flynnriderishot]

this may be a lil crazy but can you do a vinnie fic where reader is one of the sturniolo quadruplets? maybe like the fandoms colliding, the “triplets” fans all collectively fake bullying vinnie (I truly feel like if they had a sister she’d be like everybody’s girl crush like maya hawke) and just how they’d be such a cute internet power couple

a/n: i’m so in love with this idea it’s kind of insane 😭 the second i saw it, i started writing. def not the best but i did what i could :)

exposed - v.h

vinnie leant back in his gaming chair as he stared at his screen. he had taken a pause on his game of valorant to focus on the questions or comments his viewers had for him.

one in particular caught his eye

who’s your celebrity crush?

“i don’t really have a celebrity crush. i mean, you guys know how i feel about margot robbie but if i had to pick someone else, i think i’d say yn sturniolo. she’s freaking gorgeous.”

lmaooo 😭

bro get in line

don’t tell him to get in line, he might as well cut to the front 🙄

she’s so pretty

YN ?!?!

“i take it you guys know her?”

know her⁉️ we love her

that’s bae right there😪

love of my life fr 😫

vinnie stifled a laugh as he eyed the way his phone lit up with a text almost immediately after what he said.

yn 💋

gorgeous???

oh, how generous 😔

he had unknowingly made a habit of responding to your texts as quickly as he could. so without much thinking, he reached forward to grab his phone and respond.

vinnie 🤭

gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, absolutely perfect

i can keep going

yn 💋

please do 😌

i’m kidding. pay attention to your stream, your fans are getting curious

he looked up from his phone, his cheeks flushing a bit at the idea of you watching him. his eyes trailed over to the chat,

what’s bro smiling about?

what are the odds he’s actually messaging yn right now?

zero. bro has no game^^

“bro has no game.” he repeated, chuckling slightly, “you’re not wrong. i’ll play one more game of val and i’m off.”

he placed his headphones over his head, shaking his head slightly, hoping he was nonchalant enough to push away their wonders.

•••

you sat in the backseat of the car with your brother, nick as he spoke to the camera set up on the dashboard.

you could hardly pay attention to what was being said with the way chris kept pushing his seat back against your knees.

“stop!” you hit the seat, instantly getting him to start an arguement.

“you stop yelling!”

matt sighed, he had grown used to yours and chris’ banter, having dealt with it for his entire life. he chopped it up to the two of you being the youngest siblings of them all.

though, with the banter came the closeness between you two, so he knew you were only joking. however, the loud groan nick let out told him to get involved before the argument could escalate to anything more.

“leave her alone, chris.”

“she’s messing with me—“

“no, i’m not.” “no she’s not.”

“shut up! question is: who’s your celeb crushes?”

“i don’t think i have one.” matt shrugged,

“i’ll play it safe and say jacob elordi.”

“i’ll go vinnie hacker.”

chris frowned, turning in his seat to look at you, “that’s not your crush, that’s your boyfriend—“

“um— shut the fuck up?”

“dude, what the hell?”

“just cut it out, nick.” he waved off the eldest triplet, turning his attention back to you, “you can’t say your boyfriend is your celebrity crush, that doesn’t count.”

“they don’t know he’s her boyfriend, dumbass.” matt pointed out.

“just say someone else, we’ll re-film it.”

“no, because then it wouldn’t be authentic.” nick rolled his eyes, “i’ll cut her clip out. way to ruin it.”

“shut up! i was confused.”

“you’re always confused.” you scoffed, earning an offended look, “turn around.”

•••

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comments

vincenzohacks WHAT⁉️ @/lovelyyn you seeing this?

| lovelyyn i’m seeing it 🤔

yn.sturniolo bro…

liked by creator and 24,454 others

mattxliamneeson WTF HAPPENED TO HAVING NO GAME 💀😭 @/vinniehacker

secretlysturn not nick exposing them 🌚

| nicksgiraffehat it was technically chris…

>>> secretlysturn ‘it was technically chris 🤓’ nick edited the video 😒

vinniehacker huh

liked by creator and 42,397 others

| letstrip123 this kind of annoys me 🌝

| hackerxsturn IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

hackerslovevin it’s the way nick and chris exposed them and have yet to comment 😭

| nicolassturniolo we messed up… @/christophersturniolo

>>> christophersturniolo yeah…

yn.sturniolo @/matthew.sturniolo have i mentioned how you’re my favorite brother?

| matthew.sturniolo once or twice 🤷‍♂️

| christophersturniolo it wasn’t my fault 🙄

| @/yn.sturniolo @/vinniehacker sorry ?

vinniehacker made a post !

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yn.sturniolo made a post !

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taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo

[teapartyprincess4two]

Candy- C. Sturniolo

pairing: influencer!reader x Chris

classification: fluff

warnings: Latina reader, use of Spanish (brief), use of y/n, mention of alcohol, suggestive content but no smut, online scandal

translations: pendeja- dumbass (feminine)

inspiration: Candy by Plan B

summary: You were sweet as candy and Chris couldn’t stop himself from taking a bite, leading to an internet scandal neither of you anticipated.

—

Influencer parties were never Chris’s thing, he usually just let himself get dragged along for appearances. Today is one of those days, he got ready and acted excited, but deep down all he wanted to do was go back home. Currently, he’s making his rounds around the event, dabbing people up and introducing himself to the strangers he hasn’t met yet.

As he walks around the crowded party with his brothers, he realizes that there’s more unfamiliar faces than he accounted for. Maybe he’s seen a video of theirs once or twice, but for the most part he has no idea who these people are.

Nick finds a friend and disappears amidst the crowd, dancing to the beat of the music as he follows his friend towards a different area of the house. Matt has started a conversation with someone he recognized, bonding with them over God knows what. Chris lingered around Matt for a while, debating whether he should insert himself in the conversation or not, but it sounded boring and there was sure to be something more interesting at this party.

So, he allows himself to wander around, grabbing a drink along the way. Candy by Plan B plays loudly over the speakers, shaking the walls with each beat. He’s never heard this song before, but he makes a mental note to add it to his playlist, bopping his head slightly to the music. Chris takes a long swig of his beer, eyes scanning the room for something or someone interesting.

The room is crowded, the music is loud, and the strobing lights don’t help him recognize anyone. He walks further into the crowd, holding his beer by the neck as he weaves past sweaty people. He’s about to give up and walk back to where he left Matt, but that’s when he sees you.

You’re in the middle of the room, dancing shamelessly to the song. You’re swaying your hips, grinding against a friend as your hair falls in front of your face. Despite the commotion surrounding him, Chris feels the world stop. He’s never seen someone so beautiful, and maybe it’s the alcohol, but he’s instantly addicted to you. In that moment he made it his mission to learn your name and get your number.

You feel Chris’s watch on you, following the burning sensation until your eyes lock with his. You don’t know who he is, but you’re immediately in awe. He was so handsome that if this was a cartoon you’d have heart eyes.

You continue dancing, looking Chris up and down with a slight smirk before finally prying your eyes away. Just because he was cute didn’t mean you weren’t going to make him work for it. He senses the challenge and mentally accepts it, ready to do whatever it takes to make you his. The song fades out, a completely different beat playing over the speakers as Rompe by Daddy Yankee plays.

You’re swiveling your hips to the song, turning towards your friends as you begin singing the lyrics to each other. Chris takes another swig of his beer, finishing it off for some liquid courage before finally walking over to you. “Look who’s coming,” your friend comments, her eyes darting behind you to signal at Chris.

Usually you’d find boldness like Chris’s obnoxious and creepy, but he had a certain charm to him that made up for it. Before you knew it, you found yourself drunkenly dancing with him, his hands on your hips and yours around his neck. The alcohol, loud music, and his ability to dance on beat is enough to convince you that you’ve found the man of your dreams.

“What’s your name?” he shouts over the music, hands holding you in place as you grind against him. Chris feels like he’s in heaven, he’s never had a girl this hot this close to him, let alone grinding on him. “Y/n,” you exclaim as he leans into you so he can hear you better. “I’m Chris!” he replies, face so close to yours that his breath is fanning across your neck.

Despite the loud music, the moment is intimate and it feels like you and Chris are the only two people in the room. He pulls away from your ear, keeping his face close enough for your noses to touch while you dance. Before he can stop himself, he’s leaning in for a sloppy, drunk kiss. His hands are all over your body and yours are tangled in his hair.

You’re making out, grinding against each other as loud reggaeton plays in the background. The alcohol running through your veins caused you to forget that this isn’t just a random party, this is an influencer party; where everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows Chris. But the room is so chaotic that neither of you notice people taking pictures, the strobing lights serving as a mask for the nosy onlookers. They sneakily snap pictures and take videos, posting them online in a matter of seconds for the world to see.

At this point, you’ve been dancing with Chris for hours, both of you becoming a sweaty, drunk mess. People kept taking pictures, all of them trying to get their 15 minutes of fame by creating a scandal. If it weren’t for your friend who managed to pull you away, you would’ve stayed clung to Chris for the whole night. You were so drunk that you would’ve surely led him to a room and created an even bigger mess for yourself.

“Girl you can’t be dancing with that dude,” she says, dragging you outside of the party and to the car. “What? Why not?” your words are slurred, your heels clacking on the pavement as you struggle to keep up. Just moments before you were dancing expertly, but now you can’t even remember which foot is left and which is right. “Because he’s famous, pendeja,” she quips back, pulling you along aggressively towards the car. Who cares if he’s famous? He’s fucking hot.

“So? I’m famous too,” you’re slurring your words, stumbling with each step.

It’s true, you had your own group of fans, but you were a fairly new content creator. So, even if you were ‘famous,’ you weren’t as popular as Chris. “Exactly my point, bitch. Everyone was taking pictures of you guys. That’s gonna look so bad on you,” she says, throwing her hands up in the air. She was still pretty sober, leaving you on the dance floor to use the restroom and getting distracted along the way, only to come back to you grinding on a stranger.

When her hands flail in the air, she lets go of you causing you to lose your balance and fall on the grass lawn. She looks down at you annoyed, “Girl, oh my God. Get up.” Her hands wrap around your arms, using all her strength to hoist you up.

Your friend explained the situation to you, going into full detail about the story and of how she obtained the information in the first place. You’re so drunk that if all sounds like jibberish to you, but you listen anyways. Apparently she heard from a friend of a friend that Chris was extremely famous, he and his brothers sharing a YouTube channel that amassed over 6 million subscribers. These numbers didn’t really matter to you, you were never the type to measure someone’s worth based on followers, but it obviously mattered to your friend.

You were tuning her out now, your mind occupied with thoughts of Chris; his lips against yours, his hands that roamed your body, his body heat while you two danced to the music.

If the internet wanted to cancel you for having fun with a hot guy that you’d probably never see again, so be it.

—

Two days have passed since that party and Chris’s phone has been going crazy because of those pictures, there’s even videos of the two of you practically undressing each other mid dance floor. He was so drunk that he hardly remembers that night at all and he didn’t even manage to get your number because your friend pulled you away before he could ask. Although he hates the negative attention the videos and photos have brought, he can’t stop watching them.

“You need to fucking fix this,” Nick says through gritted teeth, scrolling on his laptop. Their Instagram DM’s, YouTube comments, emails, Snapchat messages, all of it was full to the brim with crazed fans. There were even YouTube drama channels reacting and talking about the photos, claiming that this was the ‘downfall of the Sturniolo Triplets.’

Nick pulls up the main photo everyone is going crazy over, enlarging it so it takes up the whole laptop screen. In the photo Chris’s hands are firmly gripping your ass, fingers ending right below your dress. Your right hand is tangled in his hair, the left one holding onto his bicep for support. The two of you are locking lips, and because you were dancing, the picture is blurry, but there’s no doubt that it’s Chris in the picture. There’s even less doubt that it’s you, your outfit matching the one you posted on your Instagram just hours before the party.

“Dude you’re fucked,” Matt chuckles as he shakes his head at Chris, he found the situation slightly amusing. “It’s not funny, Matt. Read these comments,” Nick responds, tilting the laptop so Matt can do a once over. Matt’s eyes gloss over the screen, reading so many messages that all said the same thing, ‘who is she and why is she with Chris?’

“They can’t be that bad,” Chris finally says, glancing at the laptop from over Matt’s shoulder. After reading about 5 messages he realizes that they were that bad, the fans were actually going insane over these photos. They managed to find your social media and kept tagging you in posts, one of the notifications popping up on the screen as Chris reads comments. “Wait click that,” Chris instructs, pointing towards the right hand corner of the laptop.

Nick clicks the notification swiftly, managing to catch it before it was replaced by another one. The notification leads them to your Instagram account, your aesthetic and page layout immediately jogging Chris’s memory. Suddenly he remembers every detail from that night, Candy by Plan B playing in his head as images of you flash through his mind.

“Is this her?” Matt asks, shooing Nick’s hand off the mousepad so he can scroll through your account. Your account was full of photo dumps; all of them including pictures of you with friends, family, out partying, and a lot of provocative selfies. There was a sexy, mysterious edge to you that could put anyone in a trance, and it was evident in your suggestive poses and the amount of likes under each post. Matt clicks on one of the photos, you’re wearing a little black dress and holding a beer, sitting on a lounge chair outside of a bustling party.

It was the exact dress from that night, and Matt instantly recognizes the background as the same venue from the party. Your legs and chest are visible, black pumps and a gold necklace on full display; all of them being the same details from Chris’s scandalous photo. “Dude you’re so fucked!” Matt reiterates loudly with a laugh, zooming into the background of the picture.

In the background, among other drunk people, you can faintly see Chris, Matt, and Nick. Chris squints his eyes at the screen, trying to see if he was distinguishable in the photo, but he clearly was. He couldn’t lie his way out of this situation even if he tried, all the evidence pointed directly at him.

“Fuck!” He groans, running an anxious hand through his hair. What the fuck was he going to do? What if this singular night and these photos managed to ruin their career?

Matt laughs, he understands that this is stressful, but even he had to agree that you were hot, “Dude, don’t worry. I’d get cancelled for her too.” Chris sends him a warning look and Nick rolls his eyes, this was no time for jokes.

Nick takes control of the laptop again, opening up a chat with you. “Wait, what are you doing?!” Chris asks immediately, watching as Nick types up a lengthy message. “Fixing your damn mistake,” he replies, pressing send without hesitation. Chris groans, facepalming as he thinks of what that message would lead to.

“Like I said dude, you’re fuuuucked,” Matt comments in a sing song tone, chuckling as he retreats to his room. Nick shuts the laptop, standing from the table and doing the same, grumbling a “fucking dumbass” as he walks upstairs.

Chris is left to think about the situation, mind replaying that night on loop. Although he doesn’t regret it, he feels like a high schooler getting in trouble for having a girl over and locking the door.

He was a grown man, he could kiss as many strangers as he wanted, but he still couldn’t help but wonder what he was supposed to do now.

—

Despite all the comments and backlash you were receiving, you didn’t learn your lesson. Instead of hiding from the world, you dolled yourself up for another night out. Your outfit is sensual, it screams ‘I don’t care what you think about me,’ and turns heads when you walk in a room.

You were still in the infancy stage of your career as an influencer, and if you’ve learned one thing from watching your friends get involved in scandals it’s that these things come and go. Tomorrow something more exciting will entertain people and they’ll forget all about you, so why stop having fun?

The strings of your thong peak from above your low rise jeans, a fitted crop top hugging your figure perfectly. You’ve styled your hair and done your makeup, ready to get drunk and ruin it with more mistakes at yet another influencer party. Hopefully Chris would be there too, not only because you’d love to dance with him again, but because you need to talk about the elephant in the room.

Of course you didn’t really care how this affected your career, but you knew that he and his brothers would take a slight hit from this. They were more established in this field, people held high expectations of them and scandals like this only tainted their image.

You do a once over of your outfit in the mirror, making any last minute finishing touches before walking downstairs. As you’re making your way downstairs, you grab your purse and begin shoving random things in there, your phone being one of them. The phone vibrates in your hand indicating a notification, nothing out of the ordinary especially right now, and when you inspect it your eyes just gloss over your phone before turning it off.

It was a message from the ‘triplets,’ apologizing for their fans behavior and for the entire scandal, even inviting you to meet in person to discuss what comes next. If you weren’t so excited to go out, and if you would’ve clicked the message, you would’ve realized that it was from the actual triplets and not a troll account. But at this point you’ve received so many notifications just like it from a plethora of sources, so you didn’t pay it any mind.

Instead of stressing yourself out, you shove your phone in your purse and walk out the door to meet your friends. You were going to enjoy your night with or without a scandal.

—

Chris is apprehensive, not sure if he should join Matt and Nick on their night out, especially not after what happened last time. Matt and Nick are dressed and ready, waiting for Chris in the living room so they can leave. Maybe attending another influencer party so soon after the scandal wasn’t the best idea, but Matt already promised he’d go and Nick had friends texting him asking if he was coming. So, if Chris didn’t want to go that was fine, but the other two were definitely making an appearance.

Chris is torn between two choices: stay home and protect his image or attend this party in hopes of seeing you again. He chews on his cheek, mulling the decision over before mumbling a quiet, “fuck it,” and getting dressed. Everyone was already raining hell fire on him, what difference did it make if he made mistakes now?

He throws on a casual outfit, ruffling his hair in the mirror before exiting his room and jogging up the stairs. Matt and Nick look up from their phones once they sense Chris’s presence, a little shocked that he’s joining them.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go,” Chris comments nonchalantly, tilting his head towards the door to encourage the other two to get up. Nick is more conscious of his actions than Chris is, and he knows that as soon as Chris enters that party all eyes are going to be on him. And, if you’re already there, the attention this’ll bring is worse. “Don’t you think you should-“ Nick begins, but Chris cuts him off because he knows where this is going and he doesn’t want to chicken out now.

“I said I’m ready. Let’s fucking go.”

Matt rolls his eyes at Chris’s tough guy act, grabbing his keys and walking past him, “Watch your fucking mouth, kid.” Chris ignores him, following closely behind him as they walk downstairs and out the door. He suddenly feels excited, he can’t wait to get drunk and lose all his inhibitions.

—

The party is like any other, full of drunk people and loud music, the smell of alcohol and weed being the only thing wafting through the air. Chris was excited on the car ride there, but as soon as he hops out of the car he can feel everyone’s eyes on him, and that’s when the anxiety kicks in. What the fuck was he thinking? That he could saunter into this party and go unnoticed?

Chris tightens his jaw, trying to keep his composure and show zero signs of weakness. People are murmuring, pointing, some of them even laughing. If Chris didn’t have Nick and Matt at his side he would surely break and let the anxiety consume him. The three of them are doing their rounds, greeting friends and grabbing drinks along the way: the usual. Chris wills the bad thoughts away, taking a swig of his beer as his eyes scan the room.

Last time he was scanning the room for anything or anyone exciting, this time he’s scanning the room for one person; you. He hasn’t been able to spot you in the crowd, and after the scandal he dragged you into, he wouldn’t blame you for not showing up. Chris takes another long swig of his beer, practically chugging the drink as he tries easing his nerves with the alcohol.

“Go slow with that shit,” Nick comments with a scoff, pointing at the beer that was already halfway finished. Chris holds his hands up in defense, he definitely had to pace himself tonight, especially with so many haters lurking around every corner. “I’m gonna go find my friend, don’t do anything stupid,” Nick continues with a warning glare, pushing past Chris and disappearing into the crowd

Chris’s eyes follow Nick, watching as his figure weaves between people until he’s no longer in view. He allows his eyes to scan the room one last time, mentally claiming that if he doesn’t find you then it wasn’t meant to be. Just as his eyes reach the far left corner, and he’s about to give up, he sees you. He swears he feels his heart skip a beat, butterflies in his stomach, and heat rise to his cheeks.

You’re sitting on the arm of the couch, legs crossed and rocking back and forth as you groove to the music. In your hands is a cold beer, you take small sips from it in between conversation with your friend. Chris is silently grateful that you’re here with a friend and not another guy because it means he stands a chance with you. Usually he wouldn’t be psyching himself out this much, but you were easily the prettiest girl in the room, he’d even go as far to say that you were the prettiest girl at the party.

“I’ll be back,” Chris says to Matt, slapping his brothers back and abandoning the group he was standing with as he walks towards you. Matt, who was previously engaged in a conversation, is now watching Chris intently. Either Chris was going to come out as the underdog who got the girl, or he was going to make an idiot of himself and become a viral sensation once again. The group Matt is standing with is watching too, ready to watch Chris fail to impress you and walk back defeated.

Chris pushes past dancing couples, apologizing to anyone he bumps into as he walks towards you. His eyes are locked on you, afraid that if he looks way you’ll disappear and become a figment of his imagination. You’re too busy talking to your friend to notice Chris approaching, one of your arms rests on the back of the couch as you lean into your friend. The music is loud, the lights are blinding, and the alcohol is beginning to muddle your senses.

When you pull away from your friend you see him, standing so dangerously close to you that if it were anyone else you’d be startled. But for some reason you feel comfortable, you feel like you’ve known Chris for forever and he’s just a friend coming to say hi. So that’s what you do.

“Oh! Hi,” a big smile grows on your face, the alcohol making you extra confident and cheery. Chris chuckles, finding your drunken state only slightly amusing. “Hi,” he replies with a goofy smile, taking a step closer to you on the couch.

He’s now standing in between your legs, gentle hands landing on your thighs before he continues, “our kiss broke the internet, huh?” You laugh, Chris had an unmatched charm to him that could make anyone fall in love.

“Tryna break it again?” you ask, feeling extra bold now that he’s standing so close. He smirks knowing that in that moment, despite all the online drama and rumors, he came out with the girl. “We can try,” he replies coyly, leaning into your touch as he allows his lips to hover over yours.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, the music, or the crowd of people watching, but Chris feels the need to claim you as his in front of everyone at this party. His lips attach to yours, both of you moulding together as Candy by Plan B plays in the background.

You were sweet as candy and Chris couldn’t help but take a bite.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Latinas for Chris🚨Latinas for Chris🚨

Had this one in the drafts for a while. I just had to write something for my Latina girlies 😋

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[mediumgayitalian]

“Hide me hide me hide me hide me hide me.”

Nico blinks, watching blankly as Will ducks under his arm, situating himself behind the door and peeking around it. When Nico doesn’t move, he cranes his neck to look at him, face urgent, and says, “Close it, dude, hurry up!

“Solace!”

“Fuck,” Will curses.

Nico blinks again. He squints across the common, trying to suss out what Will’s staring at. It doesn’t take long. She’s hard to miss, especially in full armour.

“Are you…hiding from Clarisse?”

“Am I hiding from —” He scoffs. “No, I’m just behind this door for fun. Fucking obviously I’m hiding from Clarisse, Nico, now get with the program and close the damn —”

“Solace!”

Both of them jump. When Nico looks, Clarisse is already way closer than she should be. Before he can process enough to slam the door, and heedless of Will’s increasingly-harried oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods fuck fuck fuck fuck, Clarisse is closer, and closer, and then suddenly she’s barging inside, pushing Nico aside like it’s not his damn cabin.

Will groans. “Aw, come on, Clarisse!”

She doesn’t bother to humour him with words, choosing instead to grab him by the collar and drag him bodily out. Will does not make it easy, going completely limp and getting his clothes grass-stained beyond belief, because Clarisse tugs him along like a sled behind her, bouncing over every stone. Nico follows, on the grounds that it’s not being nosy if Will dragged him into it technically.

“You have siblings! You have a boyfriend!”

“And yet I’m choosing you,” Clarisse says easily. “I’ve already told Chiron. It’s a done deal, weatherboy. You’re chariot racing with me.”

Will groans, trying in vain to squirm out of Clarisse’s grip. “There is no reason for me to be your partner in the stupid chariot race, I am a healer, I am at camp to heal —”

She shakes him a little to shut him up. “All the more reason. You focus too much on one thing, brat. All you do is heal and study like a big nerd. You need to get out of your comfort zone.”

“Um, no way. I’m very comfortable in it. That’s why it’s called a comfort zone.”

“You could use some training,” Nico pipes up, and the betrayed look Will gives him would be more effective at making him feel bad if it wasn’t so funny. “Last time I tried to teach you how to use a sword you almost sliced off your own face, so.”

Clarisse looks at him with appraisal. “Maybe you do have some sense in you, di Angelo.”

Nico chooses to take that as the compliment it is.

“Ugh,” Will says dramatically, and finally manages to wrench out of Clarisse’s grip in order to embed the appropriate level of drama in his face-down flop to the floor.

Clarisse kicks him. “You’re pathetic.”

“Ugh.”

Notably, he stops protesting. She kicks him again, affectionately this time, and stomps away.

———

“If I work myself into another coma, I don’t have to chariot race,” Will says gleefully, shoving the bottles of nectar Nico hands him onto a shelf. He’s been buzzing around the infirmary all day, healing things he is meant to be healing with a band-aid and a stop being a clumsy dumbass, dumbass with hymns and salves. “I’m gonna try to cure cancer again.”

Kayla, walking by, reaches out and smacks him. “Try it and I’m crack your country CDs in half.”

Will turns to her, opening his mouth —

“Every single one of them,” she stresses, green eyes narrowed.

— and closes it again, huffing.

“I’ll find a way,” he says glumly.

Nico pats him delicately on the back. “There, there.” A pause. “I mean, personally, I can’t wait to watch you fall out of a chariot.”

The look Will shoots him is nothing short of wounded. “You think I’m so uncoordinated I’m gonna fall out of the chariot?”

“Gracefully!” assures Austin from across the infirmary, smiling supportively. He grins brightly when they turn to look, nose scrunching with the force of his smile. “I’m sure!”

Will’s scowl twitches in the face of his brother’s blind enthusiasm. (It is impossible not to be endeared by Austin. He is genuinely the sweetest kid in the entire universe. Nico even gets, to his horror, the occasional urge to squish him. Gently.) He sighs.

“Thanks, Austin.”

“Of course! Love you Will!”

The twitching scowl melts into a full smile. “Love you too, kiddo.”

———

Watching chariot race practices, very quickly, becomes Nico’s favourite pastime.

He sees, now, why Achilles would bring them up, unprompted, wistful look in his eye, every time Nico visited. There’s a beauty in the rawness of it; the whipping winds, wild horses. Squealing wheels and bending axels, open-backed and inches from death at all time. Dangerous, exhilarating. Humanity, at it’s most thrilling and old — some of the first tools, the first domestic animals, the first machines, all at once. It’s pure, raw excitement.

Also, Will falls out of the chariot, like, eight whole times. And there’s nothing funnier than watching him lose his shit at a splintered pile of wood that was once a carriage, helmet thrown to the ground in a fit of rage, accent so thick he’s literally incomprehensible. Nico never gets to see him like this. His stomach actually hurts from laughter on several occasions.

Slowly, though, he starts to get the hang of it. He’s smart — incredibly so — and when he stops spending half his time complaining, and the other half pouting, he actually gets pretty decent. He’s fast, after all, and quick to observe, to respond; the other teams struggle to land hits on him, in practice runs, and sabotage is difficult when your opponent seems to have an almost prophetic gift to see things coming.

He can’t, however, steel himself to hit back.

And therein lies the trouble.

“For fuck’s sake, Will, I’m not asking you to kill anybody,” Clarrise snaps. “You need to get your head in the game!”

Will’s shoulders curl defensively. “I know! I’m trying! It’s just —” He kicks at their broken wheel, in two clean pieces on the ground. “Do no harm.”

“Do some harm. Or I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Will brightens. “And then ask somebody else to be your partner?”

“No, and then make you my partner forever.”

“Oh.”

Will’s sullen face is hard to look at. He’s got those big, puppy dog eyes, round and sad and pouty. Not even Clarisse is immune. (And certainly not Nico, who finds himself halfway off the spectator’s stands and jogging to the tracks before he wonders what exactly, the fresh fuck, he is doing, and sprints right back.)

“Shit, Solace, don’t look like I killed your goddamn mother.” She cuffs him on the shoulder, sending him sprawling with a muffled oof. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s go again.”

Accepting the spare chariot someone wheels towards her, she pulls herself up, making space for Will to do the same. He doesn’t get on immediately, still looking miserable, but concedes eventually.

His forearms look kind of nice when he grips onto the rails for dear life, Nico notices. From a totally objective perspective.

The four practicing teams guide their horses to the starting line, running a few last minute checks. To avoid spilling any secrets or strategies, everyone uses the same practice-issue wooden chariot and wears the same armour, but it’s still obvious who’s who.

The Hephaestus team’s chariot, despite being standard issue, gleams like it’s brand-new. The wood is polished and looks to be altered, barely; a carved groove here, a sharper wing there. Nothing that could really be considered an upgrade, but definitely making the whole thing look smoother. The spears they hold promise a plethora of untold ability hidden within.

The Hermes chariot looks deceptively beat up. There’s a chunk missing from the top of the left side, and one of the wheels appears to be just slightly out of alignment. Upon careful inspection, though, Nico can see clear, hollow tubing attached along the rails and open to the back — definitely a quick rig of some sort. Base (not acid, Cecil had happily lectured him on the benefits of using a base rather than an acid when dissolving anything from steel to human flesh), if Nico has to guess, or maybe Greek fire.

The Aphrodite-Iris chariot doesn’t have to do much to look great. The whole thing seems to coast gracefully to the beginner line, and neither charioteer looks particularly bothered or preoccupied with the competition — if Nico recalls correctly, and he does, their goal is to win through “gay audacity”, which Nico does not understand but supports wholeheartedly.

Will and Clarisse’s chariot, by comparison, is pretty run-of-the-mill. They haven’t done much training with the Ares horses or the Apollo flying chariot, because Clarisse is primarily concerned with training Will — she knows the equipment is fine.

Lacy, standing at the edge of the track, puts a sparkly pink whistle to her lips and blows loudly. It’s not nearly as loud as one of Will’s sonic whistles, but it does the trick, and the teams are off in a blur of movement; Will and Clarisse in the lead, Hephaestus behind them, Aphrodite-Iris in third, and Hermes lagging slightly behind.

As they turn their first corner, positions largely unchanging, Nico hears footsteps from his left — Lou Ellen smiles at him as she climbs the stand, settling into the space he makes next to him.

“What’d I miss?” she asks, brushing dust off her hands.

He shrugs. “Not much. They were in the lead the last practice round, too, but on the last lap Hermes caught up.” He gestures to the heap that was once their practice chariot. “Julia had her sword at their wheels. They were on the inner ring, nowhere to move; the only way to get rid of them would have been to knock her arm, probably dislocate her shoulder. Will couldn’t do it.”

Lou Ellen winces. “Ah.”

There’s a ripping sound, followed by cackling — the Hermes chariot has finally made use of their hasty rigging, setting off an explosion behind them that rockets them forward. It has the added bonus of shaking the ground, slightly, unsettling the other drivers for just barely long enough for them to pull into third place. Far ahead, still in first, Nico can see Clarisse yelling instructions at Will, although he can’t hear what they are. His grip on the rail has tightened.

“Why,” starts Nico carefully, and based on Lou Ellen’s pinched face she knows exactly where he’s going, “does she make him — well, you know.”

Lou Ellen is silent for a good long while, watching the practice chariot race with eyes that aren’t paying attention. Hermes is gaining, but Hephaestus is gaining faster.

“Clarisse has always liked Will,” she says eventually. She meets Nico’s incredulous expression, snorting. “Well, as much as Clarisse can like people. I got here way after he did, so I don’t have any more details there than you do, but he’s never been afraid of her, and she likes that. He’s never been mean to her, either. I mean, I know she can be a bully, but people aren’t exactly light on her, to be fair.”

The Aphrodite-Iris chariot turns out to have some tricks up its sleeve — it starts to glow; barely at first, but quickly blinding. At its crux, everyone has to look away, allowing them to pull into first.

Well, except that Will doesn’t seem nearly as staggered as everyone else. In fact, he doesn’t look bothered at all — for the first time that Nico has seen, there’s something like competition pulling a crooked smile on his face. He stares straight at the still-too-bright chariot, reigns wrapped around his arms as he yanks them forward.

“Is that why she drags him away sometimes?” Nico asks. “To train?”

“Something like that. Most of his training was with —” she falters. “Well, you know who. Medicine and some archery.”

They’re both quiet for a while. Neither of them ever knew Lee or Michael well, if at all, but over time Nico has found himself almost clamming up at the mere thought of them, the way one might tiptoe around an authority figure when they have something to hide. Forbidden subjects, where before Nico simply didn’t think of them often.

“You can’t just not train, though,” Lou Ellen murmurs, eyes trained on the chariots. Hephaestus throws one of their spears, lodging it in the spokes of the Aphrodite-Iris chariot. They come to a very abrupt and very screechy halt, knocking them out of the race in any real capacity. “Not at Camp Half-Blood. She taught him hand-to-hand because she was the only one strong enough to physically drag him to the arena. Everyone else gave up after the first few tantrums — I think she was kind of amused by the challenge. Or something.”

“Or something,” Nico agrees. Privately, he thinks that there is something about Will Solace that makes you want to protect him. Not frailty — he is not by any means incapable — but something about his smile, his genuineness. The stubborn belief that people are good and kind and worthy of everything he has to give. A naivety, except someone who’s been through what he has (what they all have) cannot be naive — his hope in the world is hard-earned and well-won. It makes people want to protect his hold on it, by any means necessary.

Even, Nico reasons, ornery old fuckers like Clarisse LaRue.

The three remaining chariots start the last leg of the race — Apollo-Ares, barely squeezing out in front; then Hephaestus, quickly gaining; and finally Hermes, lagging slightly but not to be discarded. As they round the bend, Nico watches as Clarisse cuffs Will briefly on the arm, clearly proud. This is the farthest they’ve made in first so far, after two weeks of training. Will, reigns safely transferred back to Clarisse, beams at her — bright enough that Nico can see it from dozens of yards away.

With sudden, calculated speed, the Hephaestus chariot surges forward.

As if coordinated, Nico and Lou Ellen inhale sharply, leaning forward. He sees the scattered few other campers so the same in his peripherals, watching with single minded focus as the chariot levels exactly with Will and Clarisse. Nico eyes the spear nervously — of all weapons, they’re the easiest for Will to dodge, to fight off. More impersonal.

But the sons of the smartest god around would know that.

For at least a hundred feet, nothing happens. Ares-Apollo and Hephaestus stay neck in neck, every urge forward matched, every pesky road-blocking stone avoided. The finish line is dangerously close, but no one pulls ahead, nothing changes. Four shoulders remain tense, four helmets stare resolutely forward.

Then, in a quick movement, the taller Hephaestus charioteer hands the spear off to the shorter, swiftly taking the reigns, and the shorter lunges — aiming right for Will’s shoulder. Will’s quick, though, and has his own spear poised to parry in an instant. There’s a barely perceptible nudge from Clarisse, and then Will’s eyes harden, and he lifts his spear to jab right back, needle-thin tip gleaming in the late afternoon sun, right for the chink in the charioteer’s armour and then —

The charioteer rips their helmet off, dropping it at their feet.

It’s Harley.

Hephaestus’ darling; hell, the camp’s darling. One of their youngest and brightest, with big, mischievous brown eyes, contagious smiles, endless enthusiasm. Cute, clumsy Harley, the only one of Hephaestus’ children Will doesn’t have to nag to get treated, who walks dutifully over the infirmary every time he gets so much as a second-degree burn and treats each one of Will’s overcautious instructions with utmost seriousness. Who Will sends away each time with an affectionate kiss on the forehead and a prized purple sucker — who Will, frankly, favours. Who Will would never, in a million years, even consider hurting.

A dirty trick by the Hephaestus cabin.

But an effective one.

Immediately, Will flinches back, spear dropping from his hand and splintering under thundering hooves and spinning wheels. Without a second of hesitation, Harley launches his spear in the same move as before — sticking it in the wheel’s spokes, inertia sending the charioteer’s sprawling, knocking them out of the race.

Except, maybe it’s different when the chariots are so close. Or maybe the chariot was faulty to begin with. Because as soon as the spear gets wedged, the fragile floor of the chariot seems to implode — sending Will and Clarisse under the still-moving machine, instead of flying over. The horses, disoriented from the sudden change, rip free of their harness, adding more force to the already precarious tumble.

There’s a sharp, sickening crack, so loud Nico can hear it as if it’s next to him. In the brief nanosecond immediately afterwords, he closes his eyes, sending a prayer to his father: please be the axle. Please be the axle. Please be the axle.

As the Hephaestus and Hermes chariots rocket past the finish line, Clarisse lets out a shrill, blood-curdling scream.

———

Nico’s off the bench and halfway towards the crashed chariot before he can blink. He’s not the only one — he processes, barely, everyone else’s quick convergence, including the remaining charioteers — but he’s there first, diving into the wreckage seconds before anyone else is close enough.

There’s not a lot of actual debris, chariots being as small as they are, but the dust cloud from the track is so huge and the pieces of wood are so splintered that it feels like there is. As the dust settles, and he kicks some debris out of the way, he starts to see the shape of Will, kneeling, in front of a prone Clarisse and an ever-growing pool of blood.

There’s a bone sticking straight out of her thigh.

As the rest of the campers converge upon them, Will looks up and meets Nico’s eyes. His own blue eyes are dark, steely — determined, but afraid.

“I don’t have time,” is the only thing out of his mouth before he braces both hands on Clarisse’s leg, immediately starting to sing urgent hymns.

Nico understands.

“Lou, Julia, Chiara,” he barks, taking charge in absence of Will’s voice. The three girls snap forward to him immediately. “Sprint the the infirmary and tell them what happened. Austin’s on duty — make sure he doesn’t come with you, we need him to prep a surgical suite. Send everyone else and send them fast. Bring a stretcher.”

He turns to the Hephaestus kids. “Jake, Harley, start clearing the debris to make space. Damien, join them; move the big stuff first, small stuff is secondary. We need a space for Will to work and a space to lay the stretcher. Jen, Butch, Lacy —”

He barks off a list of orders, doing his best to channel the commands he’s watched Will give dozens and dozens of times. In minutes, he has the track cleared, Will’s medical bag dragged over from the stands, and everyone who is not helping stabilize out to the infirmary to help as needed.

As soon as there’s an opening, he rushes over to Will and Clarisse, kneeling by her head.

“Help is coming,” he promises, watching the glow dim and flicker in time with the rhythm of Will’s chanting. The bleeding has slowed, marginally, but he can tell from the volume of blood alone that this was an arterial hit. It’s going to take more than Will’s raw healing power, although there is a lot of it, to keep Clarisse alive and keep her leg functioning in recovery. He needs tools, he needs nectar and ambrosia; he needs the surgery suite. He needs time.

“Is it helpful for me to knock her out?”

Clarisse, of course, is still conscious. Barely — and in so much pain Nico will be surprised if she’s processing anything at all — but enough that every few seconds she lets out an agonised shout of pain, writhing and flinching so hard Will has to focus on steadying her as much as healing her.

Without breaking his song, eyes still trained on the injury, Will nods. Nico breathes, squaring his shoulders, then shuffled forward to rest Clarisse’s head gently in his lap, fingers pressed to her temples. He presses, hard enough to feel the beat of her heart — weak — through his fingertips, and squeezes his eyes shut.

He’s no son of Hypnos, but dreams are the Underworld’s domain. Are his domain, as heir and prince of the Underworld, in every way that matters, that can be counted.

He lets himself sink into careful limbo; body in physical space, mind and soul elsewhere. Not too much — he’s no use if he falls unconscious — but enough to slip into Clarisse’s mindscape, step into her subconscious.

The whole place bleeds white, hot anguish.

Nico stumbles when he first walks in, nauseous despite being nothing but his own mind. It’s been a while since he’s experienced this kind of pain, his own or not, and he has to consciously beat back memories of brimstone and rot; liquid fire, endless red, red, red.

“Clarisse?” he calls, softly as he dares.

She doesn’t respond. He’s not sure she knows how to respond, even if she could. Cautious of the memory and emotion swirling around him, he steps forward. If he focuses, her anguish is pointed — is central. She will be at the centre of it.

He has volunteered, but he’s not sure he wants to follow.

Steeling himself, he shoulders through swirling masses of pain, of hurt, of fear. It’s blisteringly hot, and feels not unlike the sandstorm he was once stranded within, in the middle of the New Mexico desert four years ago. His face prickles; he’s blinded.

He trudges forward.

“Clarisse? Clarisse! Can you hear me? It’s Nico!”

Desperately and uselessly, he wishes he had more practice. Will has offered, the few times he’s needed to anaesthetize someone, but for the most time Nico has foolishly declined. Why on Earth he would pass up a much easier mindscape to navigate through in preparation for something like this is a mystery to him. Fuck.

“Clarisse! Try to — focus on me, can you hear me?”

He forces himself forward, a few more — well, there’s no distance in a mindscape, nothing measurable, anyway. He forces himself to look up, braving the assault to his face, and try to scan his surroundings. The swirling mass is more centralized, now, almost hurricane-like and conal. He’s closer than he was before, but if he can only find…

He looks up, and almost cries in relief: weak against the roaring storm, but still present, is a flickering, golden light. A very familiar light. Nico squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting out his own energy in an uncoordinated mass — boy, is that going to be uncomfortable to extract later — and flails wildly until he finally feels the warmth of Will’s energy entangling with his own, grounding him. He opens his eyes, and suddenly everything is clearer.

Clarisse kneels in the centre of her mindscape, hands pressed tightly to her ears, eyes screwed shut, mouth open in a silent scream.

“Hey,” Nico murmurs, kneeling in front of her. It takes a few seconds, and a few moments of gentle coaxing, before she looks up.

“It hurts,” she croaks.

She’s more vulnerable than he’s ever seen her — eyes brown and big and wet, pained, face twisted and chin trembling and achingly, unbelievably young. She is nineteen years old, but in that moment she appears almost childlike. The years of warrior’s hardness has abandoned her; she is armourless.

Nico swallows the lump in his throat. “I know.”

“Help me. Please.”

“Come here, Clarisse.” He reaches out and wraps a gentle hand around hers, tugging her close. The knee jerk discomfort at close contact is barely a flicker — he is so entwined in her right now that her fear has started to bleed into his; her rawness. He needs this comfort almost as much as she does. Right now she is a person, in agony, and so is he, and it is unbearable.

He holds her until the pain slowly stops.

———

Will is in the surgical suite for seven straight hours.

“Bed,” Nico says softly, rising up to meet him as he exits. It says something about how exhausted he is that he doesn’t even protest, letting Nico place a hand on the small of his back and guide him past the on-call room, past the patient cots, past the Big House living room couches, past Cabin 7. He leads him across the common and right into Cabin 13, with its double beds and blackout curtains, with its insulated, soundproof walls. With Nico.

He helps him out of his bloodstained scrubs, peeling them off his skin and tossing them directly into a trash can. He’d guide him to the shower, usually, but there’s a — glassiness, to his eyes, that there usually isn’t after surgery. Nico chooses instead to skip it, guiding him into the sweatpants he left behind the last time he was here and an oversized The Doors t-shirt of Nico’s, and then to the spare bed he always uses, across from Nico’s. He peels the covers back for him like he’s a child, tucking him in, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He’s asleep in minutes, curled tightly around a pillow, furrowed crease not leaving the space between his eyebrows, even in sleep. Nico smooths it away with his thumb.

“Goodnight, Will,” he murmurs, brushing the backs of his knuckles across his forehead.

He watches him sleep far past what is normal, and then slips back out of the cabin.

———

“On the bright side,” Will says, squeezing the hand that has left to leave Clarisse’s arm, “you’re free from your chariot race obligation! As am I!”

Predictably, she only glowers.

“Not a chance, Solace,” she rasps.

Will helpfully gets her a glass of water, fussing over her blankets while she drinks until she bats him away. Chris watches the whole thing with great amusement, shoulders brushing Nico’s.

“He’s a mother hen, isn’t he,” he comments, tilting his head in Will’s direction, who narrowly avoids having his fingers bitten off trying to feed her a square of ambrosia.

Nico snorts. “Yeah.” He watches the fussing for a few more seconds, making note of Will’s shaking hands, his shakier smile. “He’s guilty.”

“He didn’t do anything. She doesn’t blame him.”

Nico meets his dark look, mouth twisted in understanding. They both know this logic is futile.

“Yeah, well, someone tell him that.”

“Will — stop it.” In a startlingly quick move for someone on as much morphine as she is, Clarisse darts out and clutches Will’s fluttering hands. He hesitates, wondering if it’s worth it to pull out of her hold and possibly jostle her leg. “I’m fine. And you’re still charioting.”

“You’re not fine,” Will frowns, conveniently ignoring the part of the sentence he doesn’t want to deal with. “Your femur snapped in half and tore through your femoral artery on its way out of your leg. You’re going to be on bedrest for a week at least, and it’ll be tender for a good long while besides. That’s what we in the medical business call a Big Fucking Deal.”

She tightens her hold, staring at him until he finally meets her eyes.

“Will.” She narrows her eyes. “You are still participating in the chariot race. I’m not asking.”

“It’ll have to wait until you’re better,” he says lightly. “Besides, we’re focusing on you right now.”

Nico can see in her face when she decides to switch strategies.

“Okay,” she says, stubborn glean in her eye, “then I’m asking you, as a personal request, to stay in the race. Or else I’ll drag myself onto a goddamn horse myself, killing myself in the process, and that will be on your head.”

The tactic works.

Will scowls. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Clarisse doesn’t bother repeating herself, letting go of his wrists and readjusting her blankets.

“I am done talking now. I believe it’s time for morphine-induced unconsciousness. Please remember that I took down a drakon with my own bare hands; it is well within my abilities to drag myself out of heroin-haze and onto a chariot with no legs, let alone one. Good talk.”

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she leans back on her pillows and passes out. Genuinely, actually passes out — not closes her eyes, not behind to fall asleep; she is unconscious. Snores ring through the air.

“Well,” Chris says carefully, unfolding his arms. “It might be time to let Clarisse rest for a while.”

Will, healer that he is, cannot exactly argue with that. Will, drama queen that he is, decides to make his fury known by stomping out of the room, a feat in flip-flips possible by him alone.

“She is so infuriating!” he shouts the second they’re in the main room, startling several people. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “I put effort in! I failed! She can’t even — it’s not even about spending time together, obviously, since I still have to do it! What does she want from me?!”

Chris, like Nico, has wisely decided to let the hypothetical questions remain hypothetical and stay silent, lest his fury be turned onto them. Ten minutes into Will’s rant, Chris excuses himself to go sit by Clarisse. Nico waves him off.

“Will,” Nico suggests the next time he takes a breath, “let’s maybe go for a walk.” He glances at the group of wide-eyed patients. “I think you’re scaring people.”

Deflating, Will nods, following Nico out the door. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go for a walk.”

The fresh air probably doesn’t fix things, per se, but as they lap around the cabins, Will seems to droop further and further, curling in on himself. The anger recedes from his features.

“I feel really shitty,” he admits softly. “Just, like, generally.”

Nico softens like a goddamn slab of ice cream on hot pavement. For the second time in three days, he opens his arms in offering, although this time it’s significantly less difficult.

“Come here.”

Without even a beat of hesitation, Will collapses into him, arms around his waist, head tucked under his chin. Nico fights the urge to wince — Will, usually, takes quite a bit of pride in his height. He likes to be the one to wrap around people, not the other way around. Nico has been indoctrinated into Will-affection, in the time since the Giant War, and if Will is the one curling into him, seeking comfort, than he is struggling.

Nico hates it when Will struggles. He always feels out of his depth.

“There, there,” he hedges, feeling a good bit like an NPC. “It’ll be okay.”

Will makes a small, wounded noise. “You don’t know that.”

“Um, yes I do, I know everything forever. I’ve never been wrong even one time in my life.”

His awkward attempt at lightening the mood is rewarded by Will’s laugh. It’s slight, and nowhere near the brightness it usually is, but it’s there and it’s genuine and that’s all Nico wanted, really.

“You good?” Nico asks softly, squeezing his arms.

Will nods. “Yes.” He hesitates. “Can I stay here a little longer?”

Nico wraps his arms impossibly tighter, aching at the quiet vulnerability in his voice.

“As long as you need.”

———

The last practice before the chariot race is nowhere near as fun to watch as the others. In fact, it’s not fun at all.

Clarisse, casted and upright, appoints her brother Sherman to race in her place, much to both his and Will’s very vocal complaints. Will’s, because he still doesn’t want to race at all and especially not now that Clarisse is out of the running, and Sherman’s because, well, when isn’t Sherman complaining about having to breathe the same air as someone or whatever.

Clarisse silences both of them with a glare. “Do it,” she orders.

They comply, stomping over to their practice chariot.

The practice race is awful. Nico is surprised, frankly, that they managed to finish at all, as badly behind as they managed. He could practically hear their squabbling all the way from the stands. For as much as Will is generally easy to get along with, he’s impossible when he’s stubborn, and worse when he’s petulant. He takes every command from Sherman like it’s a personal offence, and Sherman, being who he is, does too. Every shout to veer right or deflect an attack somehow sounds like a jab at Will’s speed, or a remark about his general intelligence. When they stomp off the track, helmets thrown in a heap with the rickety chariot, Nico is almost relieved.

“We’re going to lose, tomorrow, and I can’t wait,” hisses Will darkly, fists curled at his sides.

Nico watches him warily. “You’re not even going to try?”

“What, so he can remind me that even when I’m trying I’m a useless idiot? Not a chance.”

Nico has to almost jog to keep up with him, striding as powerfully as he is. He’s not even sure where he’s going — he seems to be, mostly, going away from the track and from Sherman, wherever that may be.

“You’re not a useless idiot,” Nico offers, when some of the stormcloud has lessened its hold on Will’s usually sunny face. “Nobody thinks you’re a useless idiot.”

Will closes his eyes, sighing. “I know.”

“And Sherman is just a generally grouchy person.”

“I know.”

“It feels very, very weird to be the optimistic and comforting one, right now.”

Will snorts, finally meeting his eyes. “I know.” He flops onto the ground, cheek resting in his knees, and pats the space next to him. Nico sits much more delicately. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole lately.”

“You’ve been stressed,” Nico points out. “A little assholery is warranted.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Nico knocks their shoulders together. “I forgive you, then.”

Will smiles. “Thank you.”

For a while they sit in comfortable silence, watching the hustle and bustle of camp. Will’s presence is a comforting one, even though Nico can feel the turmoil leeching off of him. Strangely because of that, actually — sometimes Nico feels like he’s the only one who struggles out of the two of them. Will spends so much of his time smiling and joking and lecturing, hands on his hips, that Nico had almost forgotten that he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, either. He’s just good at faking it.

“I’ll be watching, tomorrow.” He bites his lip. “And I won’t, like, bring pom-poms, or anything, but I’ll be cheering you on.”

Will grins tiredly. “Silently and in your head?”

“Uh-huh.”

His smile softens considerably, melting into something almost shy, before he turns back to face forward.

“Well, then, damn. I guess I’ll have to try.”

———

On the morning of the chariot race, Will acts like Nico is escorting him to his goddamn execution.

“It is a race that will last a maximum of twenty minutes,” Nico says with no small amount of exasperation, “including prep time.”

Will looks no less grim. “A twenty minutes that will never be returned to me.”

Nico rolls his eyes and decides to stop humouring him.

He drops him off at his chariot with a quick pat on the shoulder, jogging back to the stands. They’re full, today, as expected, with every camper and countless others cramped into the minimal space. Nico looks at the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, and is about to consider breaking his promise and fleeing back to his cabin before he sees a doodled-on hand stick in the air, waving wildly. He exhales in relief and heads over to sit in the spot Kayla and Austin have cleared between them.

“How miserable is he?” Kayla asks brightly, tapping her purple shoes. “He left before we woke up this morning. Assumedly to sprint around camp a few times like a feral cat.”

“Pretty miserable,” Nico answers. He reaches over to pat Austin’s head when he rests on his shoulder, knowing he’s nervous even if he tries not to show it. “A lot of it is self-induced, though. Like, yeah, Sherman is going to be a dick and it’s going to be stressful, but I feel like, in the grand scheme of things, this is among the least stressful things he’s ever been forced to deal with.”

“There was that one time he had to remove a brain tumour in the middle of the forest,” Austin muses. “I think that was probably pretty stressful for him.”

Nico opens his mouth. He closes it again.

“Demigod life is a nightmare,” he settles on eventually.

“Hear, hear,” both siblings mutter.

They lapse into silence as they turn back to the racetrack, evaluating the turnout.

Competition will be hefty.

Sherman has finally arrived, Ares horses in tow. The garish things look almost wrong next to the brightness off the flying Apollo chariot, but that may just be the tension between the team’s charioteers that’s so potent it seems to warp the air around them. Nico is vaguely surprised that they’re managing to stand so civilly next to each other, even if they could not be more visibly uncomfortable. Will, at least, tries for a smile, which drops immediately when Sherman mutters something too quiet to be picked up this far.

Nico sighs. This is going to be hard to watch.

There are about twenty other chariots lines up. Hermes, Hephaestus, and Aphrodite-Iris, like at practice, but Athena is competing too, as well as Nike, as per usual, and Tyche. In fact Nico, and by extension Hades, is one of the few cabins not participating — everyone else seems primed and ready for a chance of laurels and extra dessert. And, of course, settling personal rivalries via bloodshed, et cetera, et cetera.

The biggest competition, if Nico had to quantify it, will be Hephaestus, tricky as they were during practice; Athena, for obvious reasons; and Will and Sherman themselves will be their own worst enemy. He can’t tell if it would be better for them to fail out early to avoid racketing tension up further, or last close to the end to keep things at a healthy simmer.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. The second warning whistle goes off, and the chariots rush to the starting line — Will and Sherman at third position, Demeter to their left, Dionysus-Hypnos to their right. The stands go silent, the charioteers get in position, and with a sharp, shrill whistle, they’re off.

The first few seconds, as always, are chaotic.

In the ground with the settling dust are three separate chariots, including, surprisingly, Hermes, whose rigging backfired and sent their entire chariot up in smoke. They are luckily unharmed due to their unusually well-prepared fireproof armour, but neither Julia nor Connor seem too pleased about being out so soon.

The rest of the race continues on without them. Athena has a decent stretch of first place, but Nike is following fast. Behind them, barely a hair’s breadth of distance, is Will and Sherman, rocketing forward smoothly. Unlike Clarisse, Sherman does not care for giving Will any learning opportunities — despite the horses being Ares’, Will is on the reigns. Sherman is armed with his sword and his spear, slashing and jabbing at anyone who gets too close. Neither Ares or Apollo is big on tricks, not like some of the craftier cabins, but together they’re fast and strong and make a formidable opponent.

Or, well, they would. If they were working together, rather than two people simply being in the same chariot.

They cross into the second lap, Will guiding them across the innermost ring to move them up past Nike. They’re gaining on Athena, now, but that won’t be an easy task — challenging the camp’s wisest never is.

Kayla hisses through her teeth. “Shit.” She purses her lip at the trailing Nike chariot — they’re gaining, and they’re seething. Damien — at least Nico thinks it’s Damien, it’s hard to tell with the helmets — has an arsenal of throwing knives poised in his left hand, and as his teammate steers them steady, he takes aim. Nico has to resist the urge to shout a warning.

As the short knife sails towards the reigns wrapped around Will’s hands, though, aim ringing true, Will’s spine goes ramrod straight. Almost as if he can feel it. With an eighth of a second to spare, he shifts and jerks his hands out of the way, avoiding the knife and managing, somehow, to stay on track.

With a skill and ferocity that has Nico’s jaw brushing his toes, Will dodges all eight of the knives lobbed in his direction. In one memorable manoeuvre, he rips his left hand from the reigns, holding them in his teeth, and uses it to shove Sherman down behind the wall of the chariot right before a knife would have lodged itself in his uncovered cheek. Out of weapons, he steers their chariot right next to Nike, allowing Sherman to sever their reigns and send them rolling to a sad, victory-less stop.

Without pausing to look behind them, they race on.

Athena’s chariot has a lead, but their chariot is built for stability, not speed. They’ve accounted for every possible sabotage and built accordingly. They have not accounted for, however, stubbornness and sheer force of Will. The Ares-Apollo chariot gains on them, helmets glinting, skeletal horses gaining faster, faster, faster. Both Sherman and Malcom, Nico believes, have their spears drawn, ready, as the space between them gets smaller and smaller, to fight barbarically for first — for honour.

Nico doubts even Rachel, powers of prophecy fully restored, could predict what happens next.

Either too furious to accept a loss or simply deciding to throw the game, one of the Nike charioteers crawls out from their carriage, darting onto the live track. They scan the ground, looking for something. When they stand in the dead centre of the track, body perfectly tense, gripping something glinting in their hand, Nico gets it.

Austin gasps, nails digging into Nico’s arm. “Oh, no.”

Before anyone can say anything, they take aim. They measure once, twice, and then let the knife loose with deadly precision, knife cutting through the air with ease and hurdling with impossible power towards to two finalists chariots.

If the knife hits the Athena chariot, it will slice clean through the axle. Architectural wonder it may be, the chariot cannot withstand Celestial bronze at terminal velocity, and it will give, and the chariot will crumple. In an effort to lesson the chariot’s load, the Athena charioteers have largely forgone armour. Their fall will be painful and disastrous; as deadly as Clarisse’s, if not moreso. A hit to the Ares-Apollo chariot will be similarly as race-ending, but both Will and Sherman are in full armour. It will be bruising, but not deadly. They will lose, but they will survive.

All they need to do to win is shift, just slightly, so that the knife hits the Athena chariot.

Will, like with all the others before it, seems to feel this knife coming. Unlike the others, he glances backwards, looking at the knife, looking back at the Athena chariot. Sherman follows his gaze, and seems to realize what Will has calculated a split second after he does. He shouts something — presumably an order to move, to shift, to sabotage.

Will hesitates.

The knife hits the Ares-Apollo chariot, slicing through the left wheel.

It careens around, unbalanced, dragged into a heap by untethered horses.

The Athena chariot pulls forward to victory, the remaining functioning chariots quickly following.

The Ares-Apollo canon is left broken and humiliated only a few feet from victory, the almost-first-place.

———

As soon as they come off the track, things get messy. Both Will and Sherman are covered in dirt and grime, striped with grease from the broken wheels, bleeding sluggishly from various scraps. Sherman has his non-flailing hand clamped to an oozing wound on the side of his neck, and Will is limping.

“—and I cannot fucking believe you, Solace! All I asked for was effort!”

“Oh, forgive me,” Will says sarcastically, finally close enough to hear. “In the hustle and bustle of being shot at, I made a couple errors.”

“That gonna be your attitude in battle? ‘Oh, sorry, there was a monster chasing me so I lost all focus —’”

“Battles are not usually fought on a chariot going a hundred fucking miles per hour!”

“That’s no excuse! You need to be —”

“What, Sherman, fucking what? What indisputable flaw do I have, oh great one, that needs to be so desperately remedied?”

It’s startling when Will’s composure cracks. When he goes from bitey and sarcastic, eye-rolling from his usual distance, to right in Sherman’s face. It’s eerie to see him at his full height, no slouching, reminding anyone watching that yeah, actually, their laidback medic is six-two, strong, capable, in more ways than what they’re used to.

Sherman, in usual Ares kid fashion, doesn’t even flinch.

“Your reflexes, for starters,” he says coolly. “No matter what you do, Solace, you’re always one second too fucking late.”

A collective gasp ricochets through the gathered campers. The tension rackets up so rapidly that Nico coughs, lungs suddenly constricted. Will rears back so violently Nico is half-convinced Sherman actual punched him.

Sherman, for his part, seems to realise he’s crossed some kind of line. The cold look on his face twists into a scowl, uncomfortable and apologetic at once. “Look, Will, I just mean —”

“You don’t get to say that to me.”

Will’s quiet voice seems to echo through the entirety of the valley, cutting through laboured breathing of charioteers, pegasus neighing, even the crashing of the waves in the distant shore — everything goes silent.

Nico likes to think he knows Will pretty well. He knows what he sounds like when he’s giggly, watching his siblings argue about nothing; when he’s excitable, rambling about his newest obsession; when he can’t choose between amused and stern at whatever dumb thing Nico has gotten himself into. He knows what he sounds like when he’s exhausted, too, overworked and done with everything; when he’s annoyed, when he’s hurt and sad.

But he’s never heard Will sound so dangerous.

“Of all people.” His words are articulated, deliberate. The usual warmth of his eyes is gone. He’s completely still in a way he never is outside of surgery — no shaking in his perpetually trembling hands, no bounce to his curls, none of the constant energy that seems to constantly exude off him. Still, cold. Icy. “You do not get to talk to me about being one second too late.”

Sherman looks stricken. Guilt is written across each of his features, and for a second he steps back — as if afraid.

“Will, I —”

The son of Apollo turns without another word, striding over to the distant tree line and disappearing into the woods. No one chases after him.

No one even moves.

———

Predictably, the silence does not last long.

“You fucking idiot!” Clarisse explodes, the second Will is out of eyesight. She bats Chris’s hand away from her, and he, surprisingly, lets her go easily — his usually understanding face has hardened. She hobbles towards her brother, remarkably quick with her clunky cast, and starts truly tearing into him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing! One!”

Sherman quickly gets defensive under the scrutiny. “Well, you didn’t make it fucking easy! Just because he’s your protege doesn’t mean he’s my fucking problem —”

Nico doesn’t stick around to listen to their argument. He searches around the gathered crowd until he meets Kayla’s eyes, flicking his head towards the woods. She nods frantically. Knowing he’ll make sure they have privacy, he takes off, aiming for the same place Will went, barely slowing down once he enters the forest.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Will?” he calls, well aware he’s not going to get an answer. “Where are you?”

While there’s definitely no response from Will, he damn near jumps out of his skin when a dryad melts from her tree, shuffling towards him.

“Blond boy?” she asks, leaning close so he can hear her whisper. “Tall? Crying?”

Nico swallows. Fuck. “Yeah.”

“Headed down southeast, ways past Zeus’ fist.“

“Thank you,” he says, hoping she understands how much he means it.

She nods, then disappears back into her tree.

Following her directions, Nico jogs down beaten paths, heading in the direction that he is vaguely sure is southeast and mostly praying that he’ll find Will eventually. He shouldn’t have that much of a head start, since Nico left maybe five minutes after he did, but who knows. Will’s fast, and sometimes this forest seems bigger than it really is. It’s easy to get lost.

He searches for what feels like hours, and might actually be hours; sky darkening as the sun disappears into the lake. The temperature drops significantly. Nico is hoping that he won’t be spending the night sleeping in the dirt when he hears sniffling.

Heart pounding, he freezes, focusing on the sound. It’s muffled, sobs choked-off and sound hidden behind cupped hands. The echo sounds strange, too; it’s close, that much is obvious, but Nico almost can’t tell if it’s coming from the left or the right. Truthfully, it doesn’t sound like either.

On impulse, he looks up. Almost invisible in the branches of a large oak tree is Will, stained clothes blending in with the scratchy bark, leaves covering the rest of him.

Except, perhaps fittingly, his bright, golden hair.

Worried that calling out to him might startle him right off the tree, Nico begins to climb. He’s not great at climbing — he doesn’t have a natural sense of what is and isn’t a good foothold — but oak trees are easy. Every half-step has a branch, and this tree is old enough that the branches are thick, sturdy. He’s twenty feet up before he even realizes, barely breaking a sweat.

He pauses a few feet shy of his target, straightening until he’s standing on an almost flat branch, arm looped tightly around the trunk.

“Will.”

Will startles. He looks around frantically, struggling in the dark, until his bloodshot eyes finally land on Nico. He bursts into more tears, shoulders shaking as he sobs.

Alarmed, Nico crawls all the way up.

“Woah, Will, breathe, vita, breathe —”

He’s not sure what tree-sobbing etiquette is, but regular sobbing etiquette often involves some kind of comforting physical touch, so he goes with that. And Will, he knows, likes to be crowded, likes to be almost suffocated with the sights and touch and smells of other people, to remind him he’s not alone, even if he feels it. So Nico scoots as closely as he dares, legs wrapped around the branch, and slides one arm around Will’s back, one against his chest, and tugs him closely.

Will comes easily.

With a bit of manoeuvring, he’s tucked under Nico’s chin, shoulders hunched and shaking, enveloped entirely in Nico’s arms. He can feel a wet spot growing on his left sleeve, and honestly he should be at least a little bit disgusted, but he barely even notices. He’s too busy fighting the lump in his own throat, blinking back his own tears.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Will’s curls. “Let it out, Will. You’re allowed.”

Will wails, a deep, choking, broken sound, and Nico loses the battle with his own tears. He’s never heard Will like this. He’s never heard anyone like this, except himself, in the echo of this same forest, years ago. It hurts like biting ice.

“It hurts, they’re gone, they’re gone, and I hate them, I hate them so much —” he heaves, dragging in breath like it cost him to say it, like part of his soul was dragged out of his vocal chords — “and I hate myself for hating them, I hate, they’re gone, I’m never —”

He dissolves into sobs, again, words breaking into nothing understandable, crying around the same repetitions over and over again. Nico hides his crumpling face in Will’s hair, wincing at every broken cry, every hitched breath, every moaned word. His heart feels like it’s breaking into a million fractals. He’s never felt so out of depth in his life.

“Let it out,” he whispers again, for a lack of anything else to say. “Let it out, sweetheart, let it out.”

For a long time, Nico had no one to hold him.

When he lost Bianca, he was by himself. And when he thought he had someone to guide him, someone to fix him, he was wrong — he was vulnerable and easy to manipulate. He had no one to hold him until he was too bitter and too closed off to let himself fall apart, anyway, and losing Bianca stayed somewhere rotten inside him, a bruise that never, ever stopped aching.

Until Will.

Last December he had cracked like an egg. He hadn’t meant to — it wasn’t even in the back of his mind — but he’d opened the door to Will’s smiling face on the morning, cold and sad as it was, and just started bawling. Some part of him, some deep, buried part, stomped it’s way from the prison Nico had kept it in and took the hell over, yanking open the floodgates, forcing him to expel every last drop of shadowy, strangling pain that had stayed inside him so long. He thought he was going to die. His entire body shook and jerked like a rowboat in a deep ocean storm, and it had been Will’s lighthouse, his endless, light eyes, his warm hands, his firm hold that had held him steady until he’d dragged himself out to the other side. It was and is the most painful thing he’d ever done in his life. And the most important.

He doesn’t think Will has had anyone to hold him, before, either. Not ‘til right this moment. Not Chiron, not his mother, and certainly not an older sibling. Will has been running on empty for as long as Nico has known him. Longer.

“Let it out,” Nico whispers again, and holds him tighter.

———

By the time either of them move again, it’s pale, early morning, and they’re damp from the dew and Will’s tears. Nico is as stiff as the tree he’s sitting on, but doesn’t dare say a word about it.

“I don’t want to go back,” Will croaks, the first either of them have spoken in hours.

Nico tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, resting a gentle hand on his cheek. “Okay.”

“We can’t stay here forever.”

“We can stay a while.” Nico pulls away slightly, just enough so that he can cradle Will’s face in both hands, tilting his chin up to meet his gaze. “I mean it, Will. As long as you need.”

“What if I’ll never have enough time?”

“Then I’ll stay with you until time runs out.” He presses a tentative, careful kiss to the centre of his freckled forehead; staying when Will shudders, leaning into it. Against his skin, he murmurs, “But you’ll have enough time, vita. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I don’t want to be strong.”

“So don’t, I gotcha.” He presses another kiss slightly above the first, and another, resting again at the crown of his head. “But you can be.”

They stay like that until Nico’s face starts to go numb, and even then he doesn’t go far, shifting so his cheek lays on the top of Will’s skull. He ignores the slight tickle of his curls against his nose, focusing instead on the brand of his hands on his waist, the shakey but constant inhales, holds, exhales, again, again, again.

“Clarisse is my friend,” Will starts. “She was as important to me as — as Cass, before the war.”

Nico hums. “But she betrayed you.”

“All of us.”

“And you resent her for it, a little.”

Will nods. “It’s disgusting.”

“It’s human, Will, Christ.” He moves them around so they’re both sitting facing each other, Nico’s eyes firmly meeting Will’s. “I will never fully forgive Percy for letting Bianca die. Never. It’s not fair to him, and I love him anyway, and I am choosing to move past it. But I will carry that burden. Am I disgusting for that?”

Will glances away. “No.”

“Will, you — look at me.”

He does.

“Clarisse actively chose her pride over her people. So did the rest of her cabin. She’s not fully responsible for that choice, and the blame, as always, lands on Kronos’ shoulders, but —” Nico laughs, a bitter, defeated sound. “Out of all of us, you lost the most. No one lost as many as Apollo. No one burned as many shrouds. You’re allowed to be hurt, allowed to be angry.”

“I forgave them,” Will admits. “I did it publicly and called off the stupid rivalry right after the war. It was the first thing I did as head counsellor.”

“Trying to do what Michael would have done?”

“Are you kidding me, he —” Will scoffs, swiping at the tears trickling down the corners of his eyes. “If Michael were alive, and he found out I forgave them after what happened to Lee, too Diana — he would have been furious. He would stop speaking to me. If I was trying to be like Michael, I might’ve refused them treatment.”

Nico tries to imagine that for a second — Will refusing anyone treatment. It makes something sour uncurl in his stomach, something unsettling.

“You would never refuse someone treatment. I didn’t even — I didn’t think you guys were allowed.”

Will shrugs. “There are no rules to our practice. I just never made refusal an option, and the kids are too young to know any different.”

‘The kids’ — as if Kayla and Austin aren’t as old or older than Will was when he was in charge, when he held the bashed pieces of his brother’s brain as it oozed out of his skull. As he sat, exhausted, hands shaking, next to Nico, and embroidered twelve shrouds. As if Yan and Gracie are his, rather than Apollo’s.

“You forgave them so your siblings wouldn’t grow up bitter,” Nico realises. “Oh, gods, Will.”

He shrugs again, picking at his nails. “For me too. Grudges aren’t healthy.” He tries for a teasing smile. “You’d know.”

“I would.” Nico tries to smile back. It’s easier than he thought it would be, although it fades back into something serious quickly. He reaches out, linking his hands with Will’s to stop him picking before he bleeds. “You can be selfish sometimes, you know.”

“Not in front of anyone.”

“You’re admitting it in front of me,” Nico points out.

Will hesitates. “That’s — different.”

“How?”

“You get it.” He looks down, voice quiet. “You get me. I can —” He meets Nico’s eyes again, a kind of helpless smile on his face. “I dunno. You’re safe. You’re okay with me, even when I’m ugly.”

“Even then,” Nico echoes quietly. He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind Will’s ear again, even though none were loose. His fingertips linger, and the skin under his touch warms. “Especially then.”

“You can, too, you know, I lo —”

“I know.”

Will exhales in relief. “Good.”

He slumps forward until his forehead rests on the swell of Nico’s shoulder, breaths warming the air between them. Nico tries to match his rhythm — in, out, in, out. Hold. Out, in.

“Can we — hide here, for a little bit? Just a little longer.”

“Of course,” Nico murmurs, squeezing his wrists. “I’ll hide you as long as you need.”

[magics-neptunes-things]

A Year of You

Hi guys!

This is a part 2 for "A Baby for Christmas" that I wrote months ago. It took me a long time to write because I wanted to have different ideas and not to write something to get over it.

So please enjoy this one ♥

December

Charlie being born on December 8, her first Christmas is naturally celebrated a little less than two weeks after her birth. It was normally up to you and Leah to throw the party, but Amanda seemed to think your daughter’s arrival gave you a valid excuse to skip your turn. It took a few years of adaptation, but you and Leah managed to find a twist between your two families, so that you could spend time with both of them. The Williamsons have invited your loved ones to come and celebrate with them several times, and that is the case today.

Usually you celebrate the 24th with Leah’s parents, her brother and girlfriend. On the 25th at noon with ALL Williamson and the 25th at night you are at your parents where you sleep and also spend the day after.

This year, however, to avoid complicated journeys, the two families are reunited and it suits you very well like that. You came home from the maternity ward after three nights, finding your bed and Leah’s arms to sleep with relief. Charlie is a rather calm child, it’s only when she is hungry that she gets angry and you don’t hesitate to tease Leah by pointing out that she already takes from her. She answered that if it was right, Charlie would only eat ham sandwich.

For sleep, she always has the rhythm of a newborn. That is, she falls asleep anywhere and anytime, waking up after four hours since her last meal. And since your daughter’s arrival in your lives, you’ve been wondering which dumbass invented the phrase "Sleeping like a baby" to mean you slept well.

"Is the most beautiful girl hungry?" coos Leah sitting next to you on the couch while you hold Charlie in your arms.

"No I'm okay, thank you" you answer with a sarcastic smile.

Leah laughs softly and puts a kiss on your cheek, although you had time to see a hint of guilt in her eyes. She nevertheless hands you the bottle that she has skillfully prepared for Charlie and you don't waste time before proposing it to her. She calms down quickly and you smile when you hear her gurgling with pleasure.

"I love you" Leah whispers to your ear, putting her two arms around your waist.

You leave Charlie’s face to look at your wife tenderly. With her elf headband and Christmas sweater, you find her particularly adorable. You answer her "I love you too" in the same way before kissing her tenderly, determined to enjoy a little of her. The world revolves around you, trying to digest the main course before tackling the army of desserts planned by your mother-in-law. Your parents are talking to Leah’s father about their last trip, the cousins have embarked on a game of Uno and the youngest enjoy the gifts they received.

"Oi, you just had a baby, maybe this is not the time to try to make another one"

The couch pops up next to Leah when her brother drops down next to her, interrupting your moment. If it amuses you, Leah gives him a cold glare.

"You better hurry up and make one, so my daughter has a cousin to play with."

January

Despite the fact that Alessia, Lia and Katie drove Leah to the maternity ward, none of them have had the chance to meet Charlie yet. It must be said that this little lady was born during the holidays, many people returned to their families. So, when Leah’s first practice of the year takes place, your decision to go surprise her and officially introduce Charlie to everyone was not hard to take.

Maybe a little helped too by the trouble Leah had leaving you both this morning. You almost had to throw her out, after promising to send her regular photos of Charlie.

"We’re here, Buba" you tell your daughter, using the nickname Leah gave her.

The baby has just eaten and slept almost all morning, so it’s relaxed and awake that she gets out of her car seat to get installed it in her stroller. With her fox onesie and her beanie with fox ears, you could eat her alive. Her eyes don’t leave your face when you go to the training field, the time of the lunch break being over since a few minutes.

Also, you didn’t expect to practically rush into Alessia who seems to be running to catch up. The shock of the almost collision passed, she gives you a big smile that gets even bigger when she realizes that you have Charlie with you. In two seconds she is leaning over the stroller.

"She’s so tiny" she whispers

You smile and look with amusement at your daughter looking at Alessia with a mixture of mistrust and skepticism.

"She inherited Leah’s glare and frown. It's kind of scary" mumble Alessia before getting up to look at you with hope. "Can I take her?"

You accept without hesitation, gently taking Charlie from her stroller to tender her to Alessia. You are perfectly confident, despite her chronic clumsiness you know that she will be very careful.

Alessia puts a kiss on Charlie’s cheek and looks at her smiling for a few minutes, before giving her back to you.

"Let’s go, we’re not gonna deprive Leah of a few extra seconds with you."

You follow her to the gym where the sports machines are, learning with joy that the girls will not return to the field until tomorrow. The training was adapted with the weather and it seems that snow is announced in the middle of the afternoon. You continue your chatter, until Alessia opens the door of the room.

"Late, Russo!"

You smile when you hear Leah’s voice sound, but Alessia is the first to speak again.

"I have a good excuse. Look who I’m bringing you"

Busy pedaling on a bike, Leah raises her head with curiosity, her face lighting up when seeing you. It only takes a few seconds for her to jump off her bike and join you, passing her arms around your waist to drop dozens of kisses all over your face, making you laugh.

"What are you doing here?"

"Charlie missed you" you maliciously pretexted.

"Ooooh is it right Buba? Did you miss me?"

Leah smiles softly and leans over the stroller, once again taking Charlie out to take her in her arms. She starts talking to her while rocking her. You smile softly, letting them have their moment and take the opportunity to greet the teammates of your blonde. After a few minutes they are all arguing about which one will have the chance to have Charlie first and you watch them do it while laughing softly.

You are not surprised to see Leah opting for Lia, the reassuring calm of the Swiss inspired as often trust. In the meantime, you’re sure of one thing, Charlie has an entire team to rely on in case of trouble.

February

Leah growls as she hears your daughter’s crying sound in the night, for what it seems to be the tenth time, turning on her stomach to hide her face in the pillow. For your part you sigh with despair, you have not even had time to fall asleep since her last awakening.

"What the hell is happening to her?"

Leah’s voice is muffled by the pillow and you rub your face as you get out of bed.

"I don’t know" you whisper, completely lost.

Usually, Charlie only wakes up once in the night to get a bottle, two if she ate not enough during the day. Which is more than reasonable for a three-month-old baby. But tonight, something doesn’t seem right and you don’t understand what. She ate well, had a good day and everything was fine yesterday. She fell asleep as usual except tonight, something’s wrong.

You checked her temperature, offered a bottle, water, changed her diaper several times and even undressed her from head to toe to make sure everything was okay. You had the misfortune of falling on the story of a baby who lost a toe because a hair had wrapped around it. Since then, you’ve been carefully examining Charlie’s ten toes several times a day.

Arriving in your daughter’s room, you take her out of her cradle once again to take her against you and rock her, installed on the armchair in her room. Like other times she finally calms down and looks at you at length with her blue eyes before finally letting herself go in sleep.

You realize you fell asleep too when you feel Charlie being gently removed from your arms. Your first reflex is to tighten her against you, but Leah’s whispered voice gently reassures you.

You watch her do it, dropping a kiss on Charlie’s forehead before turning to you to lift you from the chair and carry you a little bit the way she did with your daughter. Smiling tenderly, you put your arms around her neck and let her bring you back to your bed. She lies you on it and lies on you, her head in your neck.

"Don’t take this position for what it isn't, I’m too exhausted for anything to do with sex" Leah mutters against your skin.

You laugh softly, fondling her long blond hair tenderly.

"It was worth marrying a professional athlete" you point out by yawning.

"Tomorrow" answers Leah already half asleep.

"Sure"

You’re amused and close your eyes. Leah’s comforting warmth against you allows you to fall asleep faster than before and you are already almost gone when you hear your wife speak again.

"Love you"

"Love you more" you manage to whisper before sinking completely.

March

Becoming a parent has brought a lot of positive things into your life, you can’t say otherwise. Ever since Charlie was born, you’ve discovered a form of love you never knew existed. But you also have to admit that you miss spending quality time with Leah alone. So you took advantage of Leah’s birthday to ask your mother-in-law to look for your pretty princess for the night, to have the opportunity to offer Leah an evening.

Amanda obviously accepted without hesitation, idolizing her granddaughter. Leaving her at home wasn’t easy, however, especially for you. You never left Charlie for more than several hours, when Leah was looking at her for you to go for a medical appointment or a haircut.

"Will you let us know how it's going?" You whisper in Amanda’s ear saying goodbye, Leah covering Charlie’s laughing face with kisses next to you.

"Sure." Amanda smiles at you before fondly tapping your cheek. "Take good care of my daughter, I’ll take care of yours."

You can’t help but smile at her remark and you take a look in the direction of Leah and Charlie, to be once again invaded by a wave of love for the two human beings in front of you.

A few hours later, you enter the restaurant you booked. This is the first restaurant you shared with Leah and the smile on her face is enough to make you understand that she remembers it too.

"Very good choice of restaurant" teases Leah, once installed at your table.

"I thought it would be good to go back to basics"

Leah smiles and you thank the waiter who brings you the menu cards before taking your choice of drink. The beginning of the meal goes quietly, conversations passing from football to Charlie, to your work and the holidays you plan to do this summer.

"Do you remember what you said to me after our first date?" Leah suddenly asks while poking a French fry with her fork.

"Mmh?"

You have a full mouth and are therefore unable to give her an answer right away. Anyway, you have the impression that Leah wants to formulate the sentence herself.

"I’ve been warned of your flirtatious temper. I don’t want to be another scratch on your bedmarks. If you want something from me, it must be something serious."

You smile at that memory and Leah seems amused too. You quickly fell in love with the blonde, how could you have done otherwise anyway?

"You’ve been running your boat pretty well so far" you’re joking mischievously.

"And right after you threw yourself at me to kiss me"

That too, you remember perfectly well, obviously. Far from being calculated, this kiss had been intense. The first one you two shared.

"I was afraid you were less interested in me than I was in you. I wanted to leave you a little memory."

"By slamming the door of your apartment in my face right after?"

Leah’s face is laughing, amused at the thought of teasing you for your behavior. But you can’t blame her, you’re even laughing now.

"What do you want me to say? I just panicked."

Leah mixes her laughter with yours and you smile softly, still loving to hear her laugh. People sometimes define Leah as serious and narrow-minded, what she is. But she’s not just that. You love the gentle, relaxed, tender Leah.

"It didn’t prevent you from writing to me a little hour after actually" you point out while bowing an eyebrow.

"Contrary to what you seem to think, I’ve always been the most in love between the both of us"

Bowing your eyebrow at her, you point your fork in her direction. She is about to revive a long debate between you two. And her dirty kid's smile tells you she knows exactly what she’s doing.

"Don’t start here, Williamson."

Throughout the meal, you receive occasional news from Amanda to inform you of the evolution of Charlie’s evening. You received a photo of Charlie in her bath, a photo of Charlie with Amanda’s dog, a photo of Charlie with her uncle Jacob and a photo of Charlie deeply asleep in her bedroom at her grandmother. You’ve repeated several times that it’s not necessary to have a room made for Charlie at her place, but Amanda is as stubborn as Leah.

"Aren’t we going home?"

Leah’s surprise voice pulls you out of your thoughts, for once she’s the passager princess. You look at her quickly to stay focused on the road, smiling at her.

"Who do you think I am? It’s your birthday, we’re not going to end the evening with a chamomile in front of a soap opera"

You’re a little more relaxed than at the beginning of the evening, relieved to learn that Charlie fell asleep without being difficult to her grandmother. She has finally regained her sleep habits after a short spell.

"Where are we going?" Leah said, standing up on her seat and looking out, as if signs were going to give her the right answer.

You end up stopping your car at a palace in the Westminster district, in which you booked a suite with a balcony offering you a magnificent view of London. This is one of the few times you find yourself facing a silent Leah.

"What do you think?" you ask timidly after joining her on the balcony.

"I don’t know what I did to have the chance to have you in my life, but know that I don’t intend to let you escape one day" Leah whispers in response, putting her two arms around your waist to hold you tight.

"I really think that I'm the lucky one but never let me go" you mumble against her lips, passing your arm around her neck.

"Never let you go" she answers before kissing you hard, promise of a more than pleasant end of the evening.

April

The first time you took Charlie to see Leah play, it was primarily to support your wife who play today on her national team. To say that Charlie didn’t see much of the first half is an understatement, but she's now a great sleeper.

So that you can enjoy the game, your mother and Leah’s mother volunteered in turn to watch over Charlie who was peacefully napping inside the VIP corner, away from the cold in the bleachers. Awakened at halftime for her bottle, she is in your arms when Leah put the ball on the net, cheered whit the crowd around you. You gently take Charlie’s hand in yours and make her say hello to Leah who sends you a big smile.

Dressed in a panda jumpsuit on which you passed a jersey obviously flocked with Leah’s number and your last name, Charlie is particularly adorable. Well, you’re not impartial. But since you’ve had all the families of Leah’s teammates come to see Charlie, you don’t think you’re the only one who thinks so.

The game went great and the spring sun allows you not to be cold. You can’t tell what Charlie sees from the game, but her attention seems to be focused on the pitch. Even if sometimes she seems more attracted by the images that pass on the big screen. Charlie stays on your lap for the rest of the game and when the whistle rings to announce the end of the game, Leah goes straight to you.

"My Love" coos Leah taking Charlie in her arms immediately.

"Ouch. That hurts." you grumble in a low voice

Amanda next to you laughs and puts her arm around your shoulder. Leah gives you an apology smile while dropping kisses on Charlie’s cheeks making your daughter pat Leah’s cheeks. You can’t be angry for real obviously, especially when you feel your heart melt when you see the scene.

Leah is quickly joined by some of her teammates, Alessia at the top of the list. She’s taking Ella with her and you can see that Georgia isn’t following very far behind. If Charlie looks at Ella and Georgia with a scepticism that can only be linked to her genes, she smiles a big smile at Alessia.

"I’m her favorite" she proudly says, reaching out to Charlie.

Leah rolls her eyes and gently give her your daughter. Over time, Alessia seems to be more comfortable with Charlie. She developped a sweet spot for your daughter, asking you from time to time if she can join your afternoon stroll.

When Leah turns to you, you hurry to remove your smile from your face and look at her with an arch of an eyebrow.

"Are you sulking Williamson?" Leah mischievously pinched your ribs.

"Absolutely" you answer by wriggling to escape her attacks.

Leah smiles as you try to get away but doesn’t hesitate to put her arms around your waist to take you against her. You let it happen, of course. She understood that you're not really angry when you said you were. You smile in her arms, passing your arms around her neck.

"I’m proud of you, Lee" you say in the hollow of her ear.

You feel Leah’s smile against your skin and she puts a kiss in the hollow of your neck. The glance she throws at you and the caress on your cheek are largely enough to make you understand that you too are "Her Love". After releasing you, Leah turns to her mother and yours to exchange a few words. For your part, you turn towards Charlie who is still in Alessia’s arms.

"Beware the…" you begin, before Charlie grabs Ella’s hair in full hand to pull it, triggering Ella's cry of pain and Alessia's laughter. "…hair."

May

"Baby she's doing it again!"

Hiding your smile, you leave your work on your computer to go to Leah and Charlie in the kitchen. Your daughter started to eat vegetable puree and everything went great until Kyra came on time during Charlie's lunch and show her how to spit her food.

"I'm going to kill Kyra" Leah mumbles, giving you the little spoon and Charlie's vegetable.

"Alright but wash the carrots before, maybe" your smirk.

You hear Leah grunts before heading to the bathroom and you turn yourself in Charlie's direction. Arching an eyebrow, you look at your daughter with seriousness before pointing her with the plastic spoon.

"No spitting, baby Williamson!"

Charlie give your one of her toothy smile and you can't help yourself but smile too. She definitely have you wrapped around her little finger, but you still tries to set her boundaries and rules, not wanting Charlie to become one of those unbearable children who listens to nothing.

You carefully give her a spoon that she's swallow easily before opening her mouth again. You feel yourself relax as the spoon were eaten easily and some minutes after Leah is back in the kitchen with a new shirt.

"Thanks baby" she says, kissing your cheek before taking back the spoon and the bowl.

"You're welcome. Can I go back to my office now?"

"Yep" Leah says, popping the p of the word.

"Be wise with Mum, Baba" you say to your daughter before going in your office again.

After your pregnancy, you didn't start working again. It was to hard for you to leave Charlie for now, maybe you will start again after she start school. You had a long discussion with Leah about it, not wanting to be the one using the other's money. Leah was shocked that you thought that she can think about you that way, saying that she didn’t mind you taking care of your daughter for the first few months of her life.

In exchange, you offered to take care of all the administrative papers of your couple life and this is what you are currently working on.

At least you try, because five minutes later you clearly ear the characteristic sound of a baby spitting.

"What the... Charlie!"

June

You might have thought that having a child would take you and Leah away from your friends, but over the months you’ve found out that you were wrong. Charlie having the facility to sleep everywhere (you like to emphasize that she must take this from you), Leah and you have no difficulty in making her sleep anywhere and moving her without her waking up in her car seat, then in her bed. You know it can make some parents jealous, but it's your reality.

The proof again tonight, at the party organized by Viv and Beth at their home. Charlie is deeply asleep in her stroller, her cuddly llama tight against her, after taking her last bottle of the day. The temperature of the day allowed you to eat in the garden and this is still where you are. You rock Charlie’s stroller mechanically from time to time, despite the fact that Leah made you sit on her lap after the dessert.

"So when do you give us a second one?" asks Beth with a little a smirk.

"Clearly not right away" Leah replies immediately, making you smile.

It was a discussion you had a few weeks ago, to know if you wanted to have a second child and when. You were a little afraid to admit to Leah that you didn’t see yourself with a second child at the moment, but when Leah told you it was the same for her, you were very relieved. Charlie is adorable, easy and it’s a pleasure to have her by your side. But you want to enjoy it and honestly now that you have found a functioning that seems to suit to all three of you, you would be afraid that it would change if had a second child so quickly.

"Just make one yourself" you add with a mischievous smile.

Viv almost chokes on her drin, causing the amused laughters of the people around you.

"We have Myle, it’s going very well like this" Viv replies as Beth gives her little pats on the back.

"Did you just compare my baby princess to your dog or am I dreaming?" said Leah with a frown.

Feeling the argument getting ready when Beth in turn frowns and bends over to Leah to answer, Lia jumps on her legs and takes the blonde with her to help bring more water. Wise decision in your opinion and you mask your amused smile by laying a kiss on Leah’s cheek.

July

For your first summer family vacation, you and Leah decided to take off in the sun so that Leah could rest a little after a rather tiring season. You chose Spain and one of its islands. And the least you can say is that Charlie seems to acclimatize very well to the Spanish climate. Luckily for her, she doesn’t seem to have inherited Leah’s English skin, which is hard to tan.

You’re actually fighting with Charlie who hates sunscreen prodigiously and pushes your hands back every time you approach her face with it. She tolerates when you put it on her body, but on her face you have to arm yourself with patience. A distraction is however quickly brought by Leah, even if you would have done without it.

"What the hell are you doing with a giant inflatable llama?" you ask skeptically.

"He’s so handsome! And Charlie loves llamas"

That’s right. Her favorite to sleep is actually a soft, hairy llama that was given to her by Leah’s brother. You cowardly take advantage of Charlie’s distraction to quickly spread sunscreen on her face before letting her crawl to the llama. She skillfully climbs on it before sitting on it and applauding.

"See?" Leah smiled big before taking Charlie under one arm and the llama under the other.

"And where are you going?" you ask, with an amused smile.

"Having fun. Go back to your lame reading"

Leah pulls her tongue at you and you roll your eyes with an amused smile before sitting on the sun lounger decorated with sunscreen. But you don’t lie there, preferring to watch Charlie and Leah play in the water from afar. You make some photos and videos that you send to each of your mothers before deciding to join them.

The two blondes greet you with big smiles and you simply sit down next to her in the sand. It's impossible for you not to smile when you hear Charlie's laughter mixed with the laughter so recognizable and that you adore from Leah.

While you admire them both, you can’t help but wonder what you’ve done in your life to be so lucky. And you’re not just saying that because Leah’s swimsuit allows you to get a great view of her abs.

Your eyes are quickly intercepted by Leah, who addresses you her famous cocky smile.

"Haven’t you finished staring at me like that?"

"Never" you answer with a smile.

Leah laughs softly and you stand from the sand in which you sat, finally joining them in the water. One hand in Leah’s back, you kiss her. The blonde smiles tenderly, tightening against you but your moment is quickly interrupted by Charlie. Until then sitting on the llama, the little blonde seems to have suddenly decided to get on all fours and almost fall in the water.

"We’re going to have to work on your survival instinct, Baba" Leah says after preventing her from falling head first in the water.

September

Like every Sunday night, your meal consists of pizza since it's Leah’s cheating meal day. This lunch, also like every Sunday you don't have a football game, you went to eat at her parents' for the famous Sunday roast. When you got home, Charlie taking her last nap in the car, you bathed her before you ordered pizzas over the phone. Margarita for Leah and all cheese for you.

Meanwhile, Leah sat in the living room with Charlie and turned on the television to watch the Arsenal men’s football match. Dressed in her pajamas in the colors of Arsenal, Charlie is sitting next to her mat. Why sitting on something comfortable when you can have something cold? And she puts the shapes into her toy by lifting the plate rather than passing them through the holes, but nothing surprises you with this young lady anymore.

"Pizza orders" you tell Leah by sitting next to her

"Great baby" Leah says without leaving the screen.

You roll your eyes with a slight smile, watching Charlie continue to play. You enjoy watching your wife play with her teammates, but that’s not what made you want to watch other people play. Well, until you…

"Leah" you almost shout abruptly by grabbing her arm abruptly.

"What" jump the blonde.

You don’t answer, searching for your phone on the couch without leaving Charlie with your eyes. Leah quickly turns her gaze in the same direction as you, only to realize that Charlie has risen. And that she is walking.

Her first steps.

That you manage to immortalize with a "What the f…luff" from Leah in background. On the rest of the video, we see Charlie turning towards you with an interrogative look. But it's quickly erased by her big smile when you rush to take her in your arms.

December

"I can’t believe she’s already a year old" Leah whispers from behind you, her arms around your waist.

"I know" you sigh softly as you let yourself go against her.

You both watch Charlie sitting on the floor with Kyra and Alessia, playing with one of the toys she received as a gift. Even though she seems to have enjoyed the idea of tearing off the gift wrap more than anything else, the game finally seems to catch her attention.

You set up her first birthday party and probably exaggerated a bit about things, but Charlie seems to have enjoyed her day. Your close family was there, as were some of Leah’s teammates who eventually also play the role of aunties to Charlie.

Your daughter probably received too many gifts and seems to have taken a malignant pleasure in destroying the cake planned for the photo shoot. Photos you’ll cherish in a few months.

When you gently turn your face towards Leah to kiss her, you realize that tears are visible on her face.

"Are you crying?"

Well, maybe the question is stupid. Anyway, Leah is burying her face in the hollow of your neck before answering.

"No"

You smile softly, touched by your wife’s emotion. Leah’s breath is hot against your skin and it makes you shiver. Turning in her arms, you pass your arms around her.

"Come here, you big softy"

You lull her tenderly against you, happy that all the attention of others is on Charlie or on the remains of cakes that are still on their plates. If Leah likes to give an impression of mastery and distance in everyday life, her friends and family know that her sensitivity is one of her main characteristics.

"I love you" whispers Leah after a few seconds. "So much"

"I love you too" you smile tenderly.

When Leah pops her face out of your neck her eyes are dry but her cheeks still wet. You gently wipe them with your thumbs and kiss her tenderly, as you wanted to do at the base.

"And well done for the organization" Leah continues after your kiss. "That was perfect. Thanks for organizing that."

"Of course. But you helped me too"

Leah laughs at your amused smile. It’s true that she helped you a lot, especially when she learned that you had an appointment with a pastry chef to taste different mixes of tastes for Charlie’s birthday cake.

Your eyes turn to Charlie walking in your direction, leaving behind Alessia and Kyra who continue to play with her animal zoo. Since she took her first steps, the times you have seen her on all fours are counted on the fingers of the hand.

"Hi Baba" you smile as you lift her off the ground to take her in your arms.

You kiss her cheek and Charlie laughs when Leah does the same on the other side of her face.

"Photo!" cheerfully makes your mom when she appears suddenly in front of you.

You just have time to turn to her before your mother capture the moment. A photo that will end up enlarged above your television, then followed by many others when time will continue to offer you millions of other good moments and memories with them. All your life.